Encounterlogs
Yasmins Odd Encounter Sr Tomas
Yasmin, prepared for an unexpected meetup, ventures out into Boston Public Garden at night to meet her mysterious contact, Vesper. Vesper presents Yasmin with a cylindrical case containing maps and a tantalizing offer: embark on a treasure hunt in the crypts of Boston's Underground, a challenge faced only by the most elite of geo-cachers. Despite the dangers of underground exploration and the alluring pull of the full moon, Yasmin accepts the challenge. As she pores over the detailed maps, plotting her next moves, Vesper fades into the background, content to let Yasmin take the lead. The stage is set for Yasmin's next grand adventure, surrounded by the enigma of hidden treasures and the yawns of imposing crypts.
Meanwhile, Magnus encounters an untimely disturbance during his training routine: a young man enamored by an unexplained phasing event desperately seeks to capture it on video. In the midst of their confrontation, a would-be assassin emerges, prompting Magnus to defend himself fiercely. The poison from the assailant's blade is no match for Magnus, who shifts into a massive Kodiak bear to overpower his foe. Amid the young man's bewilderment, Magnus ensures the safety and secrecy of their supernatural world by taking the intruder for a memory-erasing potion at the Goblin Market. The young man's phone is destroyed in the scuffle, and he is left in the hands of a merchant, his awareness of the night's happenings erased. Magnus's decisive actions protect his family and maintain the veil of secrecy over their otherworldly existence.
(Yasmin's odd encounter(SRTomas):SRTomas)
[Tue Dec 26 2023]
In a Pristine and Elegant Master's Bedroom
The decor in this bedroom, based on a modern theme with the red and white colour combination reflects efficiency in structure and oozes stylish convenience. Red is a dominant colour here, and white helps to enhance its brightness. The subtle interior design of this room with the stunning wooden cabinet, and chandelier displays breathable comfort. The cushions and bedspreads are in different shades of pink, ranging from pale pink to bright, glamorous pink. Even the sheer curtains have glimpses of pink in them that allow abundant daylight to stream into the room. The entire room is so pristine, and the beauty of the design can enamour and unquestionably stands out with its elegance and cool vibes matching the simple furniture and evokes comfort. There is a perfect meld of elements in this compelling setting.
It is night, about 39F(3C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waning gibbous moon.
(The characters discover an ancient, cryptic map that leads to a treasure hidden deep within Haven's oldest cemetery. They must decipher the map and navigate the labyrinth of tombstones and mausoleums while fending off restless spirits and other supernatural threats who guard the hidden wealth.)
*DING!*
There's a message on Yasmin's phone, from one Vernon Clarke. Vernon? Evidently she had bumped into autocorrect as she filled out her screen ID - or maybe she just didn't give a shit.
hey found something interesting with your last delivery, we should meet
That's all that comes for now - quiet, discreet, not too imposing: Clarke was a professional, surely. No hints as to what it might have been that caught her eye, though - that must be the bait, hoping for Yasmin to bite down on it, and probably get roped into a little bit of side-business.
Yasmin squints down at the little message bubble that pops up on her screen; it's 11pm, and it's a full moon. Neither of those things make her want to get out of bed any. It would look like she's got little choice in the matter though, and there's a soft sigh before she pulls off the warm, warm cover of her blankets.
What is it, and where?
While she waits for a reply, Yasmin sees to dressing herself. Something a little suited to athletics, and her warmest coat on top of it - if Vesper's asking to meet, it's definitely not going to be anything /boring/.
Her name /is/ Vesper, after all - of course her meetups are going to be in the heart of the evening.
if you've ever heard of geo-caching, it's like that. one of the laptops you handed in had some interesting info on it.
i'll be at boston public garden. come meet me
Well, then - that was about as direct as Yasmin could hope for. Geocaching was basically making a sport out of leaving dead-drops to people; for it to have caught Vesper's attention, whatever must be in this 'cache' must be worth a pretty penny, or be otherwise... interesting. As for having the angelborn be the one to fetch it - well, maybe that was just honour among thieves... or maybe the fence simply expected this to be a difficult job, befitting one of the less fragile thieves she had on dial. Either way, the offer's been presented - it's up to Yasmin whether or not to take it, now.
Her name /is/ Vesper, after all - of course her meetups are going to be in the heart of the evening.
if you've ever heard of geo-caching, it's like that. one of the laptops you handed in had some interesting info on it.
i'll be at boston public garden. come meet me
Well, then - that was about as direct as Yasmin could hope for. Geocaching was basically making a sport out of leaving dead-drops to people; for it to have caught Vesper's attention, whatever must be in this 'cache' must be worth a pretty penny, or be otherwise... interesting. As for having the angelborn be the one to fetch it - well, maybe that was just honour among thieves... or maybe the fence simply expected this to be a difficult job, befitting one of the less fragile thieves she had on dial. Either way, the offer's been presented - it's up to Yasmin whether or not to take it, now. (fix)
Yasmin does not, in fact, know what geo-caching is, but it's nothing a quick google search of 'what is geocaching' can't solve. She pauses with wardrobe doors still open to look it up, eyebrows arching in intrigue - she's definitely interested, and there's another answering message of
30 minutes.
Don't ask on full moon night next time.
Before leaving, there's a little detour: a trip to the car to put her duffel bag with her bow and vest in it in the trunk, and then ensuring the cats are fed and good for the night before she grabs a snack - and a bar of fancy chocolate, as a belated Christmas gift for Vesper - and locks all the doors securely. There's a pause to consider the apartment door next to her's, and she shoots out another message on her way out, to one Tomas on her phone: Going to be in Boston for business for a few hours. Nothing to worry about.
It may or may not be something to worry about. Time will tell.
It's an easy enough place to find, at least - the Public Garden being something close to institutional, as far as the city was concerned. The city itself wasn't far away, either, and Yasmin had a /very/ fast car... even if putting on a full demonstration of that power would bring far too much attention. There's a good thirty minutes before the next text - nothing out of the ordinary; business was through, and only the banter was left, which was lower-priority on Vesper's List Of Things To Do. It does come, though:
it's not like i waited for the full moon, you know - business happens when it happens. i could've got someone else in on it >:(
She's not really that angry, even if she did sometimes find Yasmin's superstitions to be a bit eyeroll-worthy. Then, finally, there's the open sky and a /lot/ of greenery - and somewhere, sitting in the park-garden-whatever on a little bench, would be Yasmin's favourite fence. Probably... /that/ one, over there. No text back from Tomas, though - he may well have thrown his phone out, for all the good it was doing his self-reported hangover.
I am here.
Yasmin ignores the banter - she's said her part, Vesper better make the business happen on non-full moon nights next time; as it is now, it's not too hard to find the woman. Yasmin's got an exceptionally good nose, and it's only mildly creepy to literally scent someone out to find them if you planned on meeting anyway, right? Her gear remains in her trunk for now, unless she knows it's needed - she's not here to draw too much attention, even if the population of people visiting a park at midnight is sparse.
"Happy holidays," Yasmin tells the woman when she reaches her at the bench she's sat upon, fishing the bar of chocolate out of her pocket and handing it over. Dark chocolate with caramel and sea salt, and it's even wrapped with a red ribbon and everything; she was definitely not skimping.
Yasmin takes a seat next to the woman on the bench after, hands in her pockets while she tilts her head back to look up at the sky, the light of the full moon shining down from above. "... the stars are less visible here." She's literally thirty minutes away from Haven, surely there can't be that much of a difference. Still, is she going to just make random observations until Vesper actually gets down to business? Probably.
Thirty minutes does make a reasonable difference, when it comes to a major city's light pollution. Still; this is one of the city's better stargazing sites.
"Happy holidays," Vesper smiles over at Yasmin, accepting the dark chocolate as seriously as legal tender. "Thank you very much," she says, and offers up a gift of her own - a cylindrical case, a little too narrow to fit a bottle of wine in it, but around the right length. "This," she says, "Is a number of maps of the Boston Underground, and the level below that. This is about as close as we're going to get to a straight up movie plot, Yasmin - you're looking for treasure in a crypt." There's a wry, twisting smile as she unwraps her candy bar - ribbon first, with proper appreciation - and nibbles at it a little. "So, in this 'geocaching' community your old laptop-haver was taking part in, there was mention of this unidentified crypt - maybe Underground Railroad honouring their dead in a way that wouldn't give them away, maybe murder victims hidden in a shrine-slash-trophy room, who knows - which was a site for some of the bigger players. The place is apparently difficult enough to get into that only their... top level cachers, whatever, could get in and out - and the prizes being left behind from whoever /else/ uses the spot are always quite valuable. You should see about getting in yourself - see if you can get your hands on some of these supposed riches."
It's almost comical, the way Yasmin's face falls at the mention of 'Underground'. She doesn't let that stop her from peering into the case anyway, a considering look crossing her features. "Treasure hunting," comes the musing thought, as though weighing the pros and cons of whether she should be looking further into this.
Pros:
- treasure hunting is cool as fuck
- Who doesn't want to be rich via a grand movie-esque adventure?
Cons:
- The air is awful underground, this is a far cry from Yasmin's usual 'jobs', it sounds dangerous, and she could potentially die.
So, obviously: "I will do it." Yasmin says, and she pulls out the first of these maps now to spread across her lap, seeing if she can make sense of it - how detailed are these, even? Can she figure out the location of the supposed crypt from here? "Difficult to get into, you said? Tell me you got me an exploring kit? I don't carry rope or anything around." There's a batting of her eyelashes at Vesper, definitely unnecessary; Yasmin's going to make her fetch the necessary supplies anyway even if she didn't already, while she looks over these maps. "Is it time-limited? Someone else going for it? Where is the closest entrance?" She doesn't ask if the other woman will be joining her - probably not her style.
Some of these maps are pleasantly modern and easy-to-read; there's the train lines, and most of the sewer system is covered pretty robustly, as well - but the older maps, of tunnels and dead-ends and not-council-approved little additions... Those are widely less trustworthy, less useful, and more likely to be written in some esoteric European language that may or may not have been written by a double amputee.
They're all laminated, water-proofed copies, though, so that's nice.
"Lady, I'm just giving you work because you're the one who turned up the lead," Vesper sniffs. "I assume there are tight spaces and pockets without air circulation that are causing the difficulties, but we haven't done a full investigation on what would appear to be a hobby group, Yasmin - you bring whatever sort of prep you want to. If there's anything worth having at the end of your trip, then I'll buy it off you - but it's no big loss if you don't check it out." The fence shrugs. Some of her dispassion has to be affected, which makes sense for a salesperson, but this clearly isn't the Job Of The Century for her - just one that looked fun, and that an adventurous young thief with surprisingly good returns might be interested in. "Closest entrance is going to be accessible by the closest train station - you'll need to run through the tunnels a little, then access a maintenance hatch to get lower." There's a brief pause, then an addition: "Well, there's /one/ closer way, but you're going to have to wade knee-deep in the sewers for that one..?"
Okay, so clearly /she/ doesn't want to be featured in the most exciting heist adventure of the century; there's a little returning sniff to mirror Vesper's and a turning up of Yasmin's nose at the perceived spoilsport, but she's listening closely enough to follow. "... I will go to the train station," she decides. No wading through sewers, thank you. Yasmin may not be the most squeamish, but she's also not up for a walk through poopy water. She does remember her manners eventually, while she's flipping through maps and arranging them in whatever order she finds most relevant, and tells Vesper, "Thank you. I will get back to you after it."
And then she's fully engrossed in the maps, her eyes bright and mental notes being made; Vesper may as well cease to exist for now.
OOC: We'll call it here for now, and pick up soon! Feel free to have Yasmin gather a friend or two for this if she likes, or go about this alone - I'll make a plot to do some point this week or next. Thank you for taking part <3
Having been sparring with a friend earlier in the sparring hall, Magnus has been doing some training this evening. A long Broadsword is held in his hands as he swings, stops, checks his stance and guard, and then resets to do another guard, swing, and check. A few more repetitions of this get him to a place where he is satisfied with his form, and he sets the sword aside to take a drink of water.
(Someone in Haven has found out about the supernatural and is freaking out about it. They're at risk of exposing the secret, hurting themselves, or hurting others. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
Suddenly, the door swings open, and a young man stumbles in, his eyes widened in surprise. Spotting Magnus - he calls over, "Was that you just now?" He asks, though what he's referring to might not be immediately obvious, he fumbles about in his pockets, fingers dancing in a hurried rhythm as he searches for his elusive phone which he whips free and begins to tap away at, "That was AWESOME, man. Do it again."
"Hrmph." Magnus says as he looks to the man, taking his long drink of water as he picks up his Broadsword and strides across the room, opening the sliding glass doors outside he turns to the man and asks, "Did you trample my tulips? This is my house, sir." he raises up to his full seven foot height as he looms over the man, "What are you recording, I did not consent."
The determination of this heckler seems to override Magnus' very reasonable objection. Ignoring Magnus, he raises his phone with a swift motion, the lens capturing the unfolding scene despite the spoken dissent, "Look, man, I'll fix those up later and be out of your hair real quick." He promises, just brushing aside the man's concerns, "Just do it once more. That trick where you phased through the wall like that."
Narrowing his eyes, Magnus bears down on the man, sheathing the broadsword as his hand slowly comes up to put on the man's shoulder of the hand holding his phone. "Sir." Magnus says sternly, "I did no such thing, where did you see that happen? It must have been a trick of the light or a magic trick, my friend." he rumbles with a chuckle in mirth.
A sudden running of footsteps disrupts the silence behind Magnus. Instinctively, Magnus turns, just in time to catch a glimpse of a middle-aged, heavily-scarred man charging towards him with a knife. With split-second reflexes, someone contorts his body, narrowly evading the deadly trajectory of the blade of this would be assassin. However, the respite is short-lived, as the assailant, undeterred, readies for a follow-up strike.
In the midst of the escalating confrontation, the young man, phone in hand, stands at a safe distance, a recording spectator. Oblivious to the gravity of the unfolding fight, he cheers with an enthusiastic tone, his focus more on capturing the spectacle than comprehending its potential repercussions.
A sudden running of footsteps disrupts the silence behind Magnus. Instinctively, Magnus turns, just in time to catch a glimpse of a middle-aged, heavily-scarred man charging towards him with a knife. With split-second reflexes, Magnus contorts his body, narrowly evading the deadly trajectory of the blade of this would be assassin. However, the respite is short-lived, as the assailant, undeterred, readies for a follow-up strike.
In the midst of the escalating confrontation, the young man, phone in hand, stands at a safe distance, a recording spectator. Oblivious to the gravity of the unfolding fight, he cheers with an enthusiastic tone, his focus more on capturing the spectacle than comprehending its potential repercussions.
Growling as he defends himself, broadsword in hand, Magnus keeps giving ground to the attacker until he gets closer to the recording man, attempting to use his strength to swat the phone out of the man's hand and into the wall to destroy it.
Oblivious to the impending threat, The young man continues to record with his phone, until Magnus' a broadsword arcs through, connecting with the unsuspecting device in his hand. The phone is sent tumbling through the air, into a brief, weightless fleight before it crashes against the wall, practically exploding into a clatter of dislodged components punctuate the clash, "HEY MAN, WHAT THE FUCK!" He snaps. And that's when it dawns on him too. That the other man is wielding a knife, and he stumbles back in fright.
Seizing the opportune chaos, the middle-aged, heavily scarred, man with the knife slips through, he lunges, the blade grazing the vulnerable expanse of Magnus' shoulder. Suddenly Magnus' body feels incredibly heavy. The tell-tale signs of the beginnings of poison taking hold.
Sensing the poison, Magnus groans as he needs to call an audible, he needs to get bigger, so he looks at the attacker and then to the recording man and sternly says, "You idiot, now I'll have to clean this up." to the assassin as he begins to shift into a Colossal Kodiak Bear.
The air crackles with energy as Magnus begins a startling transformation. Muscles twist and bones realign with a series of sharp snaps, his skin sprouting thick fur of brown. His face elongates into a ursine snout, and his blue eyes flicker with a feral light. Within moments, the massive figure reshapes into the form of a colossal kodiak bear, his human features lost to the powerful, lumbering body of the powerful ursine. He stands on hind legs before settling on all fours, shaking out his new coat and letting out a roar, a formidable presence even in this new animal form.
Magnus(Dog) oops wrong form
Magnus(Bear)'s form contorting and shifting as he undergoes a transformation, emerges into a larger, more formidable presence, the poison is clearly intended for a man-sized opponent, and there's a sudden newfound resilience to that previously oppressive poison. the young man finds himself caught in a moment of stark disbelief. His eyes widen, and a sudden paralysis grips him, when he really ought to be running.
Realization dawns on the middle-aged man's features, a flicker of frustration in his eyes as he comprehends the foiled nature of his elaborate plan as the poison ceases to take hold. With a swift, practiced motion, he produces a smoke bomb from the folds of his coat and hurls it to the ground. A sudden eruption of dense smoke engulfs the hall. By the time it's cleared up, he's gone, leaving just Magnus(Bear) and the young man who's phone had been shattered.
Growling as he looks around, shaking his snout as he pads over to the man sans phone, sniffing him as he raises a massive paw to pin him, Magnus(Bear) uses his weight to make sure the man stays put.
The young man remains freezoen in his tracks as Magnus(Bear) approaches, "Oh fuck." He mumbles, "You're like.. the x-men. I didn't see shit." He says, palms outstretched toward Magnus(Bear) in a pleading way, "I'll just- I'll just go, man. I just thought there was some movie stunt tricks or some shit happening."
The bear's form quivers as if responding to an unseen command, fur retracting into skin as the ursine frame enlarges and reshapes. Bones audibly crack and shift, realigning to human anatomy. Muscles expand, filling out a towering, human physique. The snout shortens back into a human face, the fur giving way to pale, alabaster skin. Blue eyes, once feral and canine, regain their human depth and intelligence. In a matter of moments, the kodiak bear has transformed back into the massive mountain of a man, standing seven feet tall with noble, carved features, his transformation complete. His hand presses down on the man, holding him down just like the bear did, as Magnus shakes out his long hair and braids, fully naked as his glacial blue eyes pierce down into the man. "We're going for a ride, my friend. I'm sorry to do this, but you've seen too much."
In the raw struggle for dominance, the young man's lack of strength compared to Magnus becomes glaringly apparent. He's easily pinned and over powered as Magnus' weight presses down on him, "What the fuck, man." He hisses, still squirming in a futile way, "Let me GO!"
"You'll thank me later." Magnus says as he drags the man physically out of the sparring room, picking up his clothes on the floor as he hastily puts them on one handed, "We're going to a place, I'm going to get a thing, and you're going to forget this all happened. Stay out of town for awhile, I'd rather you be mad about a phone than dead."
Magnus drags the man out of his home, yelling "Janette! I'll be back. Gotta run into town for something!" as he ties the man up, shoving him in the back of his dad-like minivan, and driving off to the Goblin Market.
Against his fervent attempts at escape, the man finds himself forcibly dragged into the goblin market by Magnus. Several shady traders look their way. Clearly abductions are such a common sight that no one feels the need to comment or intervene, it's more like they're trying to appraise if there's an opportunity for them to make a sale.
Heading to the alchemy lab as he gives some mean mugging looks at the others in the market, Magnus grumbles, "Unawares need to be kept that way, fucking Syndicate or whatever coming after me." he tosses the man into a chair and pays a man to mix up a memory potion, "I need the last hour or so of this guy's life to disappear, or the Venetians will fucking hear about it, you got me?" he says with a glare at the man making the potions as he says, "I don't care how you make it, tea, syringe, whatever. I just need it done."
A shady trader effortlessly produces a small, gleaming syringe, "This one's on the house." He tells Magnus, sliding it across the table within reach, "Unawares becoming aware is bad for business."
Bound to the chair in a claustrophobic marketplace, the young man squirms in futile resistance. His attempts to break free are met with unyielding restraints as the merchant Magnus is dealing with moves to hold him still, "Go on. You can leave him with us, we'll drop him off after it kicks in." They dubiously promise.
Narrowing his eyes at the man, Magnus says, "I shattered his phone in the process, he was recording. Can you get his ID and see if you can wipe anything he had streaming? Or get him a replacement phone? He's going to be pretty pissed when he has a blank spot in his memory and no phone to call anyone on." he reaches up to offer a hand to shake to the man, "As long as this gets taken care of, I don't care what happens the the guy. I have a family to keep safe."
Off in a corner of the bustling goblin market, the merchant extends his hand toward Magnus with a congenial smile, firmly shaking the hand, "Leave him with us." The very shady, infant-heart selling trader offers, "I'll make sure this is all cleaned up nicely." The syringe is injected into the young man's neck, who promptly passes out. Seems like it did more than just wipe his memories. The trader nods, "That's it. Done." He makes a dismissive gesture with a hand, "You've done plenty already. No need to concern yourself with this any further."
Weather or not the merchant would clean this in a moral way is questionable. But the traders are definitely known to be discreet.
"Good, good. I'll take my leave of you and get a beer from the bar here. Glad to be of service and thanks for the help." Magnus says with a smile as he strides out of the market and back home to relax from a job well done(?)
Meanwhile, Magnus encounters an untimely disturbance during his training routine: a young man enamored by an unexplained phasing event desperately seeks to capture it on video. In the midst of their confrontation, a would-be assassin emerges, prompting Magnus to defend himself fiercely. The poison from the assailant's blade is no match for Magnus, who shifts into a massive Kodiak bear to overpower his foe. Amid the young man's bewilderment, Magnus ensures the safety and secrecy of their supernatural world by taking the intruder for a memory-erasing potion at the Goblin Market. The young man's phone is destroyed in the scuffle, and he is left in the hands of a merchant, his awareness of the night's happenings erased. Magnus's decisive actions protect his family and maintain the veil of secrecy over their otherworldly existence.
(Yasmin's odd encounter(SRTomas):SRTomas)
[Tue Dec 26 2023]
In a Pristine and Elegant Master's Bedroom
The decor in this bedroom, based on a modern theme with the red and white colour combination reflects efficiency in structure and oozes stylish convenience. Red is a dominant colour here, and white helps to enhance its brightness. The subtle interior design of this room with the stunning wooden cabinet, and chandelier displays breathable comfort. The cushions and bedspreads are in different shades of pink, ranging from pale pink to bright, glamorous pink. Even the sheer curtains have glimpses of pink in them that allow abundant daylight to stream into the room. The entire room is so pristine, and the beauty of the design can enamour and unquestionably stands out with its elegance and cool vibes matching the simple furniture and evokes comfort. There is a perfect meld of elements in this compelling setting.
It is night, about 39F(3C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waning gibbous moon.
(The characters discover an ancient, cryptic map that leads to a treasure hidden deep within Haven's oldest cemetery. They must decipher the map and navigate the labyrinth of tombstones and mausoleums while fending off restless spirits and other supernatural threats who guard the hidden wealth.)
*DING!*
There's a message on Yasmin's phone, from one Vernon Clarke. Vernon? Evidently she had bumped into autocorrect as she filled out her screen ID - or maybe she just didn't give a shit.
hey found something interesting with your last delivery, we should meet
That's all that comes for now - quiet, discreet, not too imposing: Clarke was a professional, surely. No hints as to what it might have been that caught her eye, though - that must be the bait, hoping for Yasmin to bite down on it, and probably get roped into a little bit of side-business.
Yasmin squints down at the little message bubble that pops up on her screen; it's 11pm, and it's a full moon. Neither of those things make her want to get out of bed any. It would look like she's got little choice in the matter though, and there's a soft sigh before she pulls off the warm, warm cover of her blankets.
What is it, and where?
While she waits for a reply, Yasmin sees to dressing herself. Something a little suited to athletics, and her warmest coat on top of it - if Vesper's asking to meet, it's definitely not going to be anything /boring/.
Her name /is/ Vesper, after all - of course her meetups are going to be in the heart of the evening.
if you've ever heard of geo-caching, it's like that. one of the laptops you handed in had some interesting info on it.
i'll be at boston public garden. come meet me
Well, then - that was about as direct as Yasmin could hope for. Geocaching was basically making a sport out of leaving dead-drops to people; for it to have caught Vesper's attention, whatever must be in this 'cache' must be worth a pretty penny, or be otherwise... interesting. As for having the angelborn be the one to fetch it - well, maybe that was just honour among thieves... or maybe the fence simply expected this to be a difficult job, befitting one of the less fragile thieves she had on dial. Either way, the offer's been presented - it's up to Yasmin whether or not to take it, now.
Her name /is/ Vesper, after all - of course her meetups are going to be in the heart of the evening.
if you've ever heard of geo-caching, it's like that. one of the laptops you handed in had some interesting info on it.
i'll be at boston public garden. come meet me
Well, then - that was about as direct as Yasmin could hope for. Geocaching was basically making a sport out of leaving dead-drops to people; for it to have caught Vesper's attention, whatever must be in this 'cache' must be worth a pretty penny, or be otherwise... interesting. As for having the angelborn be the one to fetch it - well, maybe that was just honour among thieves... or maybe the fence simply expected this to be a difficult job, befitting one of the less fragile thieves she had on dial. Either way, the offer's been presented - it's up to Yasmin whether or not to take it, now. (fix)
Yasmin does not, in fact, know what geo-caching is, but it's nothing a quick google search of 'what is geocaching' can't solve. She pauses with wardrobe doors still open to look it up, eyebrows arching in intrigue - she's definitely interested, and there's another answering message of
30 minutes.
Don't ask on full moon night next time.
Before leaving, there's a little detour: a trip to the car to put her duffel bag with her bow and vest in it in the trunk, and then ensuring the cats are fed and good for the night before she grabs a snack - and a bar of fancy chocolate, as a belated Christmas gift for Vesper - and locks all the doors securely. There's a pause to consider the apartment door next to her's, and she shoots out another message on her way out, to one Tomas on her phone: Going to be in Boston for business for a few hours. Nothing to worry about.
It may or may not be something to worry about. Time will tell.
It's an easy enough place to find, at least - the Public Garden being something close to institutional, as far as the city was concerned. The city itself wasn't far away, either, and Yasmin had a /very/ fast car... even if putting on a full demonstration of that power would bring far too much attention. There's a good thirty minutes before the next text - nothing out of the ordinary; business was through, and only the banter was left, which was lower-priority on Vesper's List Of Things To Do. It does come, though:
it's not like i waited for the full moon, you know - business happens when it happens. i could've got someone else in on it >:(
She's not really that angry, even if she did sometimes find Yasmin's superstitions to be a bit eyeroll-worthy. Then, finally, there's the open sky and a /lot/ of greenery - and somewhere, sitting in the park-garden-whatever on a little bench, would be Yasmin's favourite fence. Probably... /that/ one, over there. No text back from Tomas, though - he may well have thrown his phone out, for all the good it was doing his self-reported hangover.
I am here.
Yasmin ignores the banter - she's said her part, Vesper better make the business happen on non-full moon nights next time; as it is now, it's not too hard to find the woman. Yasmin's got an exceptionally good nose, and it's only mildly creepy to literally scent someone out to find them if you planned on meeting anyway, right? Her gear remains in her trunk for now, unless she knows it's needed - she's not here to draw too much attention, even if the population of people visiting a park at midnight is sparse.
"Happy holidays," Yasmin tells the woman when she reaches her at the bench she's sat upon, fishing the bar of chocolate out of her pocket and handing it over. Dark chocolate with caramel and sea salt, and it's even wrapped with a red ribbon and everything; she was definitely not skimping.
Yasmin takes a seat next to the woman on the bench after, hands in her pockets while she tilts her head back to look up at the sky, the light of the full moon shining down from above. "... the stars are less visible here." She's literally thirty minutes away from Haven, surely there can't be that much of a difference. Still, is she going to just make random observations until Vesper actually gets down to business? Probably.
Thirty minutes does make a reasonable difference, when it comes to a major city's light pollution. Still; this is one of the city's better stargazing sites.
"Happy holidays," Vesper smiles over at Yasmin, accepting the dark chocolate as seriously as legal tender. "Thank you very much," she says, and offers up a gift of her own - a cylindrical case, a little too narrow to fit a bottle of wine in it, but around the right length. "This," she says, "Is a number of maps of the Boston Underground, and the level below that. This is about as close as we're going to get to a straight up movie plot, Yasmin - you're looking for treasure in a crypt." There's a wry, twisting smile as she unwraps her candy bar - ribbon first, with proper appreciation - and nibbles at it a little. "So, in this 'geocaching' community your old laptop-haver was taking part in, there was mention of this unidentified crypt - maybe Underground Railroad honouring their dead in a way that wouldn't give them away, maybe murder victims hidden in a shrine-slash-trophy room, who knows - which was a site for some of the bigger players. The place is apparently difficult enough to get into that only their... top level cachers, whatever, could get in and out - and the prizes being left behind from whoever /else/ uses the spot are always quite valuable. You should see about getting in yourself - see if you can get your hands on some of these supposed riches."
It's almost comical, the way Yasmin's face falls at the mention of 'Underground'. She doesn't let that stop her from peering into the case anyway, a considering look crossing her features. "Treasure hunting," comes the musing thought, as though weighing the pros and cons of whether she should be looking further into this.
Pros:
- treasure hunting is cool as fuck
- Who doesn't want to be rich via a grand movie-esque adventure?
Cons:
- The air is awful underground, this is a far cry from Yasmin's usual 'jobs', it sounds dangerous, and she could potentially die.
So, obviously: "I will do it." Yasmin says, and she pulls out the first of these maps now to spread across her lap, seeing if she can make sense of it - how detailed are these, even? Can she figure out the location of the supposed crypt from here? "Difficult to get into, you said? Tell me you got me an exploring kit? I don't carry rope or anything around." There's a batting of her eyelashes at Vesper, definitely unnecessary; Yasmin's going to make her fetch the necessary supplies anyway even if she didn't already, while she looks over these maps. "Is it time-limited? Someone else going for it? Where is the closest entrance?" She doesn't ask if the other woman will be joining her - probably not her style.
Some of these maps are pleasantly modern and easy-to-read; there's the train lines, and most of the sewer system is covered pretty robustly, as well - but the older maps, of tunnels and dead-ends and not-council-approved little additions... Those are widely less trustworthy, less useful, and more likely to be written in some esoteric European language that may or may not have been written by a double amputee.
They're all laminated, water-proofed copies, though, so that's nice.
"Lady, I'm just giving you work because you're the one who turned up the lead," Vesper sniffs. "I assume there are tight spaces and pockets without air circulation that are causing the difficulties, but we haven't done a full investigation on what would appear to be a hobby group, Yasmin - you bring whatever sort of prep you want to. If there's anything worth having at the end of your trip, then I'll buy it off you - but it's no big loss if you don't check it out." The fence shrugs. Some of her dispassion has to be affected, which makes sense for a salesperson, but this clearly isn't the Job Of The Century for her - just one that looked fun, and that an adventurous young thief with surprisingly good returns might be interested in. "Closest entrance is going to be accessible by the closest train station - you'll need to run through the tunnels a little, then access a maintenance hatch to get lower." There's a brief pause, then an addition: "Well, there's /one/ closer way, but you're going to have to wade knee-deep in the sewers for that one..?"
Okay, so clearly /she/ doesn't want to be featured in the most exciting heist adventure of the century; there's a little returning sniff to mirror Vesper's and a turning up of Yasmin's nose at the perceived spoilsport, but she's listening closely enough to follow. "... I will go to the train station," she decides. No wading through sewers, thank you. Yasmin may not be the most squeamish, but she's also not up for a walk through poopy water. She does remember her manners eventually, while she's flipping through maps and arranging them in whatever order she finds most relevant, and tells Vesper, "Thank you. I will get back to you after it."
And then she's fully engrossed in the maps, her eyes bright and mental notes being made; Vesper may as well cease to exist for now.
OOC: We'll call it here for now, and pick up soon! Feel free to have Yasmin gather a friend or two for this if she likes, or go about this alone - I'll make a plot to do some point this week or next. Thank you for taking part <3
Having been sparring with a friend earlier in the sparring hall, Magnus has been doing some training this evening. A long Broadsword is held in his hands as he swings, stops, checks his stance and guard, and then resets to do another guard, swing, and check. A few more repetitions of this get him to a place where he is satisfied with his form, and he sets the sword aside to take a drink of water.
(Someone in Haven has found out about the supernatural and is freaking out about it. They're at risk of exposing the secret, hurting themselves, or hurting others. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
Suddenly, the door swings open, and a young man stumbles in, his eyes widened in surprise. Spotting Magnus - he calls over, "Was that you just now?" He asks, though what he's referring to might not be immediately obvious, he fumbles about in his pockets, fingers dancing in a hurried rhythm as he searches for his elusive phone which he whips free and begins to tap away at, "That was AWESOME, man. Do it again."
"Hrmph." Magnus says as he looks to the man, taking his long drink of water as he picks up his Broadsword and strides across the room, opening the sliding glass doors outside he turns to the man and asks, "Did you trample my tulips? This is my house, sir." he raises up to his full seven foot height as he looms over the man, "What are you recording, I did not consent."
The determination of this heckler seems to override Magnus' very reasonable objection. Ignoring Magnus, he raises his phone with a swift motion, the lens capturing the unfolding scene despite the spoken dissent, "Look, man, I'll fix those up later and be out of your hair real quick." He promises, just brushing aside the man's concerns, "Just do it once more. That trick where you phased through the wall like that."
Narrowing his eyes, Magnus bears down on the man, sheathing the broadsword as his hand slowly comes up to put on the man's shoulder of the hand holding his phone. "Sir." Magnus says sternly, "I did no such thing, where did you see that happen? It must have been a trick of the light or a magic trick, my friend." he rumbles with a chuckle in mirth.
A sudden running of footsteps disrupts the silence behind Magnus. Instinctively, Magnus turns, just in time to catch a glimpse of a middle-aged, heavily-scarred man charging towards him with a knife. With split-second reflexes, someone contorts his body, narrowly evading the deadly trajectory of the blade of this would be assassin. However, the respite is short-lived, as the assailant, undeterred, readies for a follow-up strike.
In the midst of the escalating confrontation, the young man, phone in hand, stands at a safe distance, a recording spectator. Oblivious to the gravity of the unfolding fight, he cheers with an enthusiastic tone, his focus more on capturing the spectacle than comprehending its potential repercussions.
A sudden running of footsteps disrupts the silence behind Magnus. Instinctively, Magnus turns, just in time to catch a glimpse of a middle-aged, heavily-scarred man charging towards him with a knife. With split-second reflexes, Magnus contorts his body, narrowly evading the deadly trajectory of the blade of this would be assassin. However, the respite is short-lived, as the assailant, undeterred, readies for a follow-up strike.
In the midst of the escalating confrontation, the young man, phone in hand, stands at a safe distance, a recording spectator. Oblivious to the gravity of the unfolding fight, he cheers with an enthusiastic tone, his focus more on capturing the spectacle than comprehending its potential repercussions.
Growling as he defends himself, broadsword in hand, Magnus keeps giving ground to the attacker until he gets closer to the recording man, attempting to use his strength to swat the phone out of the man's hand and into the wall to destroy it.
Oblivious to the impending threat, The young man continues to record with his phone, until Magnus' a broadsword arcs through, connecting with the unsuspecting device in his hand. The phone is sent tumbling through the air, into a brief, weightless fleight before it crashes against the wall, practically exploding into a clatter of dislodged components punctuate the clash, "HEY MAN, WHAT THE FUCK!" He snaps. And that's when it dawns on him too. That the other man is wielding a knife, and he stumbles back in fright.
Seizing the opportune chaos, the middle-aged, heavily scarred, man with the knife slips through, he lunges, the blade grazing the vulnerable expanse of Magnus' shoulder. Suddenly Magnus' body feels incredibly heavy. The tell-tale signs of the beginnings of poison taking hold.
Sensing the poison, Magnus groans as he needs to call an audible, he needs to get bigger, so he looks at the attacker and then to the recording man and sternly says, "You idiot, now I'll have to clean this up." to the assassin as he begins to shift into a Colossal Kodiak Bear.
The air crackles with energy as Magnus begins a startling transformation. Muscles twist and bones realign with a series of sharp snaps, his skin sprouting thick fur of brown. His face elongates into a ursine snout, and his blue eyes flicker with a feral light. Within moments, the massive figure reshapes into the form of a colossal kodiak bear, his human features lost to the powerful, lumbering body of the powerful ursine. He stands on hind legs before settling on all fours, shaking out his new coat and letting out a roar, a formidable presence even in this new animal form.
Magnus(Dog) oops wrong form
Magnus(Bear)'s form contorting and shifting as he undergoes a transformation, emerges into a larger, more formidable presence, the poison is clearly intended for a man-sized opponent, and there's a sudden newfound resilience to that previously oppressive poison. the young man finds himself caught in a moment of stark disbelief. His eyes widen, and a sudden paralysis grips him, when he really ought to be running.
Realization dawns on the middle-aged man's features, a flicker of frustration in his eyes as he comprehends the foiled nature of his elaborate plan as the poison ceases to take hold. With a swift, practiced motion, he produces a smoke bomb from the folds of his coat and hurls it to the ground. A sudden eruption of dense smoke engulfs the hall. By the time it's cleared up, he's gone, leaving just Magnus(Bear) and the young man who's phone had been shattered.
Growling as he looks around, shaking his snout as he pads over to the man sans phone, sniffing him as he raises a massive paw to pin him, Magnus(Bear) uses his weight to make sure the man stays put.
The young man remains freezoen in his tracks as Magnus(Bear) approaches, "Oh fuck." He mumbles, "You're like.. the x-men. I didn't see shit." He says, palms outstretched toward Magnus(Bear) in a pleading way, "I'll just- I'll just go, man. I just thought there was some movie stunt tricks or some shit happening."
The bear's form quivers as if responding to an unseen command, fur retracting into skin as the ursine frame enlarges and reshapes. Bones audibly crack and shift, realigning to human anatomy. Muscles expand, filling out a towering, human physique. The snout shortens back into a human face, the fur giving way to pale, alabaster skin. Blue eyes, once feral and canine, regain their human depth and intelligence. In a matter of moments, the kodiak bear has transformed back into the massive mountain of a man, standing seven feet tall with noble, carved features, his transformation complete. His hand presses down on the man, holding him down just like the bear did, as Magnus shakes out his long hair and braids, fully naked as his glacial blue eyes pierce down into the man. "We're going for a ride, my friend. I'm sorry to do this, but you've seen too much."
In the raw struggle for dominance, the young man's lack of strength compared to Magnus becomes glaringly apparent. He's easily pinned and over powered as Magnus' weight presses down on him, "What the fuck, man." He hisses, still squirming in a futile way, "Let me GO!"
"You'll thank me later." Magnus says as he drags the man physically out of the sparring room, picking up his clothes on the floor as he hastily puts them on one handed, "We're going to a place, I'm going to get a thing, and you're going to forget this all happened. Stay out of town for awhile, I'd rather you be mad about a phone than dead."
Magnus drags the man out of his home, yelling "Janette! I'll be back. Gotta run into town for something!" as he ties the man up, shoving him in the back of his dad-like minivan, and driving off to the Goblin Market.
Against his fervent attempts at escape, the man finds himself forcibly dragged into the goblin market by Magnus. Several shady traders look their way. Clearly abductions are such a common sight that no one feels the need to comment or intervene, it's more like they're trying to appraise if there's an opportunity for them to make a sale.
Heading to the alchemy lab as he gives some mean mugging looks at the others in the market, Magnus grumbles, "Unawares need to be kept that way, fucking Syndicate or whatever coming after me." he tosses the man into a chair and pays a man to mix up a memory potion, "I need the last hour or so of this guy's life to disappear, or the Venetians will fucking hear about it, you got me?" he says with a glare at the man making the potions as he says, "I don't care how you make it, tea, syringe, whatever. I just need it done."
A shady trader effortlessly produces a small, gleaming syringe, "This one's on the house." He tells Magnus, sliding it across the table within reach, "Unawares becoming aware is bad for business."
Bound to the chair in a claustrophobic marketplace, the young man squirms in futile resistance. His attempts to break free are met with unyielding restraints as the merchant Magnus is dealing with moves to hold him still, "Go on. You can leave him with us, we'll drop him off after it kicks in." They dubiously promise.
Narrowing his eyes at the man, Magnus says, "I shattered his phone in the process, he was recording. Can you get his ID and see if you can wipe anything he had streaming? Or get him a replacement phone? He's going to be pretty pissed when he has a blank spot in his memory and no phone to call anyone on." he reaches up to offer a hand to shake to the man, "As long as this gets taken care of, I don't care what happens the the guy. I have a family to keep safe."
Off in a corner of the bustling goblin market, the merchant extends his hand toward Magnus with a congenial smile, firmly shaking the hand, "Leave him with us." The very shady, infant-heart selling trader offers, "I'll make sure this is all cleaned up nicely." The syringe is injected into the young man's neck, who promptly passes out. Seems like it did more than just wipe his memories. The trader nods, "That's it. Done." He makes a dismissive gesture with a hand, "You've done plenty already. No need to concern yourself with this any further."
Weather or not the merchant would clean this in a moral way is questionable. But the traders are definitely known to be discreet.
"Good, good. I'll take my leave of you and get a beer from the bar here. Glad to be of service and thanks for the help." Magnus says with a smile as he strides out of the market and back home to relax from a job well done(?)