Constance’s Friday night odd encounter(Jakem)
Date: 2025-06-27 00:21
(Constance’s Friday night odd encounter(Jakem):Jakem)
[Fri Jun 27 2025]
On Mariner Avenue/span
It is night, about 61F(16C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. The mist is heaviest At King and Blackstone/span
There is a waxing crescent moon.
Constance is hanging out outside Highgate Stationery in the middle of the night, organizing her fighting tournament for this Sunday.
smirks to someone “Eh, I’m sure it’ll get worked out eventually who it is.” He looks back to someone “Oh, one moment, I’ll tell yah about the Sons in a bit if you’re interested.”
(Your target and their allies are charged with tracking down a supernatural criminal on the run from the factions, what they do with them then is up to the players to decide.
)
Jakem says, OOCly, “What is Connie doing right now to organize her tournament? Talking to people, figuring out logistics, organizing things?“
Constance is speaking with the woman at the front desk aobut how her plan is to just have them fight in the sand outside, since it’s a beach store, so they don’t need any prep except a bunch of chairs on the patio.
The woman is clearly tired and wants to go home after a long day, and seems just about ready to agree to anything. Brawl in the middle of the beach? Sure. Why not? Blood on the sands? The tides will wash it away. “Look, Connie was it? I’m not entirely sure this is the front face we’re trying to put for our establishment, but I’ll tell you what. You sign all the liability waivers and agree to do your own security, including keeping small children from the event, and slip me fifty bucks and you can do whatever. you. want.” She says wearily.
A voice behind the two woman calls out “Oh hey, what’s this about a fighting tournament?” The voice belongs to a man in a slick black suit. He’s not large, but has a wiry build. “Are there prizes?”
Constance turns and nods, beaming as she looks down on the man. It’s almost impossible for her to not look down on people. “Mhm.” She calls over her shoulder, “We’ll have it covered. You already do us so many favors that this is a small one in comparison!”, at the woman. “Anyway, the winner will get seventy five percent of the pot, twenty five to charity. I’m calling it ‘broken bones for broken homes.'”
The woman gives a little nod “That’s lovely of you dear, your community spirit is truly touching.” she says with no inflection and a customer service smile.
“Hey don’t listen to her, you guys do great work. You’re the shelter folks right, the ones that operate outa Northview?” the man asks cluelessly. “And that’s a really slick name. Anyways, the name’s Greg Gallagher, and I’d love to participate. You mentioned it’s a pot? That mean there’s an entry fee?” He asks.
Something about Greg seems familiar.
Constance agrees. “Yeah, twenty five dollars.”, she comments. She squints down at him. “I’m Connie. Have we met before?”
At the question, Greg subtly stiffens, but no emotion registers on his features.
Greg smiles “I think I’d remember meeting you.” He comments looking upwards, his own frame barely sporting a 5’9″ height. “You didn’t mention what group you represented?” he asks with a mask of cheeriness.
Constance shrugs. “The Hollow Conclave,” she replies, pulling up her cross and showing it off.
Greg nods as he spots the cross. “Right, course. I really admire what you lot do for the community.”
The woman has some forms she’s placed on the desk and the man glances around Constance to watch “Looks like you’ve got some paperwork to fill out, but before you do, you mentioned you were going to provide security?”
Greg smiles in a smarmy manner “Been a long night, why don’t you relax, take a load off, settle, sink, obey.” his words fade into a strange sonorous tone that buzzes the mind. “Tell me what security you’ll have.” He says softly.
How much couldGenerousity, Curiousity, and Lust be used to lull Connie into revealing details on her event’s security to this man?
Constance shrugs, cracking her neck. She’s a pretty generous person, so she’s open about “Why the hell would I need security for an event where the whole point is bringing all the city’s most violent people together to fight for money? If anyone interrupts it, they’ll be paste faster than I can open my mouth,” she laughs.
nods a bit, scratching his jaw “Ah, no no, you’re right, I can’t imagine anyone would come interrupt something so… what’s the word I’m looking for? Rambunctious. It’d be just asking for a beating.”
A little mote of recognition; She hasn’t met Greg, but she’s seen his face before. He’s got a file on him in her Conclave records. Maybe a person of interest?
With that, Greg gives a little wave and a smile “Well expect to see me there, front and center.” he says with a wink before shoving his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket and turning to start to slink off.
Constance scratches at her chin idly and then takes out her smartphone once Greg starts to slink off, checking over the files again.
There’s no Greg in there, but there’s a notification that’s recent on one of the files. The notification is for one Kyle Alistar, and it popped up when you searched for Greg.
43Kyle Alister: Known aliases Marshal Bishop, John Allen, Greg Gallagher.
Used supernatural powers to alter minds and memories during various competitions and events in order to secure bets, prize money, or sabotage competitors. Was apprehended on May 13th. Recently escaped. Apprehend immediately. Do not speak to the target.
There’s a note at the bottom of the file “I was right in the middle of a ritual with him. I just turned my back for a second! Ugh, sorry guys.”
Constance squints. “God damnit,” she mutters, looking back up at the guy who is probably Fucking Gone. If they aren’t, though, they might be in for a surprise, considering Constance’s psychotic levels of Always Preparedness involving ‘having guns on her’ and ‘being a magnokinetic.’
Greg was quick as soon as Constance turned her attention to her phone, drastically increasing the pace of his retreat. Still, she does look up quickly enough to see a glimpse of a polished black shoe dissapearing behind an alley.
Alleys tend to have some interesting metal objects in them. And it’d be like shooting fish in a barrel, though apparently this fellow was being used as a ‘ritual asset’ by the conclave before he escaped.
Constance emits a faint hum to herself, and then says to herself, “If he’s dumb enough to show up at the thing, I’ll just deal with it then,” shrugging. She is egregiously overconfident, it seems.
Will Greg be dumb enough to show his face at the fighting tournament? Will Connie be clever enough to catch him before he swindles his way into some of the prize money? Will Agatha manage to get the paperwork processed in time to get some sleep before her 8 am yoga appointment?
Find out by Tuning in next time for; Encounters by Jakem!