Encounterlogs
Ashs Odd Encounter Sr Lucas 240828
In the eerie ambiance of Arkwright Cemetery under the dim light of a waning gibbous moon, Ash and their companions, Fayad and Novel, find themselves recovering from supernatural tussles only to encounter a strange new presence. This figure, revealing himself as a member of The Black Flame, entices the group with cryptic messages of a looming disaster and the promise of a cleansed new world. Fayad, Novel, and Ash engage with the man in a mixture of skepticism and curiosity, their banter veiling the wariness of his true intentions. The discussion veers into the man's pitch to join their forces to bring about 'The Next,' an end to all suffering through the destructive vision of The Black Flame. Despite the dire conversation, there's an underlying tension, a sense of potential conflict brewing beneath the surface of casual dialogue.
The situation escalates when Novel, spurred by Fayad's secret messaging, attempts to coax the man into a trap by pretending to align with his ideals, proposing a scheme to replace the real world with a dream of how things should be. Unexpectedly, the encounter takes a deadly turn due to a series of misfortunate events: a pat on the back leads the cultist to trip and tumble down the cemetery hill, resulting fatally. The bizarre and accidental demise of the stranger induces a mix of shock and dark amusement among the group. Ash finds the tragic end hysterically ironic, while Novel expresses a grim satisfaction mixed with disappointment at missing the opportunity for further interrogation. The group concludes to dispose of the body, hinting at their own murky affiliations and capabilities, as they humorously contemplate the absurdity of their encounter, underlining the night with a grim but fitting twist of fate.
(Ash's odd encounter(SRLucas):SRLucas)
[Mon Aug 19 2024]
At Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 81F(27C) degrees, There is a waning gibbous moon.
(Your target and their allies are approached by a seemingly harmless stranger in Haven's local coffee shop. The stranger, who introduces themselves as a "friend," begins to speak in cryptic riddles and prophecies, hinting at a looming disaster that will engulf Haven and potentially the world. As the conversation progresses, the stranger reveals that they are a member of The Black Flame, seeking to recruit new disciples. The characters must decide how to respond. They could attempt to infiltrate the cult, try to dissuade the stranger from their destructive path, or confront the cult directly. Their decision could have far-reaching consequences, placing them in direct conflict with The Black Flame and their dangerous ideology.)
OOC: I appreciate the time you're taking to give me some of your day! Go ahead and give me some posts about what you had going on and we'll work this prompt into your scene!
Fayad is busy choking on salt and doing his best impression of a beached whale on the ground of the graveyard, desperately trying to recover from being hit in the solar plexus very hard and then being doused in non-breathable powder while sucking air.
While Fayad is having a moment, it seems that Ash and Novel won't quite pick up just yet the arrival of a new presence. Nothing insidious (yet) but rather a silouhetted figure slowly approaching; perhaps watching the antics of this group that's gathered in the late hours here on Hanging hill and within the Cemetery made so famous by the mauseleums of the Arkwrights and their sordid history.
Ash climbs up as the spectral vines fall away into the aether, and inspects their skin. No, the scratches from the ghosts' vines are all gone, or didn't happen... as is the norm. Their cracked ribs and bruises, sadly, still seem to be there, being formed from being thrown against tombstones. Still, they seem to be healing, at least, and make their way to their bare feet, grunting in pain, then wiping a few tears out of their eyes. "Fuck, man...."
Novel is covered in grass stains, bruised (though they're rapidly fading), torn up around the legs and pants by magically conjured thorns (again, fading), and brushing himself off from the exciting adventure he just had. While other people are groaning in pain and suffering he looks to be in a jolly good mood, his face flushed with good health and delight from the rousing rigamarole caused by rumbling wraiths and wrights engaged in desperate battle. He stabbed a few ghosts, he got to sample some suffering, and it gave him some IDEAS to do things in the future. He pocketed some of the astral ashes that were left behind and is now sidling out from where he took cover behind a tilted angel monument to head over to the others. "I know, right? That was fucking INCREDIBLE. I wish we could fucking do this shit every day!" He says merrily to Ash as he beelines over to Fayad to slap him way too hard on the back to get the dust out.
Fayad has absolutely fuck-all for regeneration and flops pathetically onto his stomach.
Ash grumbles befoore telling Novel, "What are you talking about? You *can* do it about every day. This graveyard is *fucked*, man. Ghosts and spirits and shit are always getting up to party and possess people... I just hate that the party is usually to my detriment... but, training, you know?" They shrug, then looks over at Fayad. "You, uh... broke anything, my man? If there's cuts, I have bandages...."
What comes from these little jaunts in the darkness and shadows where nobody else can see? Experience. Knowledge of the reality of the world even as it slowly ticks on toward it's own damnation. "This is just the beginning you know" comes a voice out of the shadow. Despite the native talents of those here, the owner of the voice seems to have escaped notice until now. "Just the beginning" he repeats, that silouhetted figure slowly beginning to approach out of the faint, dim lights that from the old Gallows road that leads up the hill, or the faint lights that minimally dot the landscape of the cemetery itself.
Ash perks up, flaring their nose then tilting their head, trying to find the source of the voice. Then, they summon their will o' wisps again, the little balls of pale fiery light bobbing about them as they look around. "Who are you," they ask, narrowing their eyes.
Fayad gets up to his knees, wheezing as Novel batters the salt out of his body. Truly, this would be a miracle if it was not for the fact he is not speaking in metaphor at all - Fayad spits up congealed white powder onto the grass as he gets up onto his feet, exhaling.
"Fuck, I can? That's fucking INCREDIBLE." Novel has the appearance of a manchild who, for the first time in his life, has realized that he has disposable income and can now buy as much pocky and bacon as he wants at Ash's words, straightening up and giving another extra hard SMACK before leaving off casually abusing Fayad under the guise of 'helping' before someone can call him out for it as he rolls his shoulders. "So much fucking mayhem. Ahh..." He sighs, deeply, taking in a deep breath of that warm nighttime air. It takes him a few moments to register the voice's name, craning his head to turn to it and squinting out over there. "Man, fuck off you homeless bum," he mentions casually.
The seasoning of the earth, it doesn't taste any better as Fayad finishes sputtering the last grains of the tangy substance out of his mouth. Novel and Ash both turn their attention to the new arrival with suspicion and perhaps rightly so. "Just somebody. Nobody. Not much different from you folks" he says cryptically, his words chosen with care even as his tone tries to achieve the epitome of casual disregard. "Man, I wish" comes that too-casual reply to Novel's words. "Rent is killer, and whatever this election bullshit says, I don't see it going down!" He flashes a normal man's grin - everyday problems for everyday people. "You guys handled that as well as could be expected though, given the circumstance. This place is never gonna settle, you know. Too much turbulence."
Ash tries to get a good look at the guy with their will o' wisps providing light, so that they can see who they're talking to.
Of course! This man approaches and as he does so he's bathed in light from the faint cast of the will o' the wisps. He's average in height and build but his eyes are piercing, capitvating. Not in that tell-tale way that comes with power or corruptuon but rather a more natural kind of charisma. Not gold, but not amber they rest in that burnished honey kind of color, soft flecks of brown and green throughout his irises.
Fayad wipes at his mouth and draws himself up to his full height of five-foot-nothing, eying the man suspiciously. "H-hey," he wheezes, and then finally gets his breathing under control. "Yeah. Real turbulent.'"
Novel nods back at the guy. Yep. The other dude gets it, "Fucking right, you know? Just goes up and up and up every fucking day, makes you want to throw politicians into the woodchipper as they casually accept backhanded deals and bribing was openly made legal in this country it's some real goddamn BULLSHIT," the man easily rants out, able to go off on the lightest touch about how THE MAN is horrible and how THE MAN is screwing everyone else over. But he's still a crazy person. How does he know this? Like recognizes like. "Why the fuuuuck would I want it to settle? In spite of what the big man said-" He jerks a thumb over his shoulder at Fayad, who's like, half his size, "I think it'd be fucking incredible if the ghosts caused some problems. Maybe they can burn the DMV down to the ground on the way out."
Ash nods to the man, eyes settling on his, with their own very similar pair, down to the golden cast with bits of green. Not that it's easily seen under their sunglasses, but they smile softly. They say, "Oh, it's settle down... give it 13 years or so." Their smile cracks into a grin as they wobble their hand, amused by their own joke. They listen to Novel ramble, though, not competing as they push their hands in their pocket and wait. People don't generally wander into a graveyard to casually chat... probably? It may actually *be* a Haven thing... but still, they wait and watch.
"I mean, why wait, right?" This man offers the most friendly smile in the world, spreading his hands a little bit as he speaks, all but nodding in co-sign to the fringe rantings that start to come from Novel. He points to Fayad, "He's all banged up, yeah? I mean, why keep suffering? The fight ... it's a war of attrition, man!" His own words take on that tinge of fevered belief, that pitch bringing a fresh glow to his eyes. "But there's a better way, you know? No suffering, no worries. Just ... the Next."
meant that as a private ..... yeah a private.
Ash does not respond to the man's words, as he whispers to Novel, it seems.
Fayad rolls his eyes. "Oh, fuck, the Next?", he says, recognizing this immediately. "God. Last time I was at this graveyard I helped two of your men close a rift they could only half-open. Only one of them survived. You barely fucking train your ritualists, come on. That was amateur. I've been aware for less than a year and even I know that was amateur. Do you have any idea who you're proposing to euthanize?", he glares at the emissary. "I am Fayad al-Munaqadh, the Scion of the Inferno. We share many ideas but not many means or methods."
Fayad adds, as an aside, "I recruited him, after, actually, he's doing well in New York. Thomas."
Novel sort of zones out as the man goes off on a rant in a completely different direction, apparently used to these sorts of sales pitches, but also, probably because he's a demonborn who wants to prolong and create more suffering, remarking, "Right? it's fucking TERRIBLE." He starts texting on his phone. He doesn't actually care. "Hey it's interesting that you fucking mention that, I think I got a way to go that way. You ever heard of a bar named the AMBITION? Great fucking ambiance. I think you'd love going there, me and you, could have a lot of fucking fun. Bring your friends along too, right?" He's not even bothering whispering. Also, people might want to pop if they have acute hearing. Or whatnow.
Ash listens to the others, as the conversation goes into a rather Scionic direction. They do smile as Fayad asks if the guy knows who he is, introducing himself. Almost like they're proud of him, but since that doesn't make much sense, it instead may be interpreted as being reminded of something nice. After a pause, though, they change their mind, speaking up. "What's this Next stuff?"
"All it takes is one" this man says to Fayad first, his words catching his attention and openin his smile even more broadly. "We always work toward the End, friend. Why not consider it? It seems like you have the eyes open to see the futility of it, right? Let the Flame consume, and cleanse us all!" Oh yeah, this man is truly a nutjob it sounds like - and now Ash and Novel can denote the small but significant patch on the man's nondescript jacket. A small globe of the world wreathed in black flames.
Novel agrees, "Yep, futility." before snapping the phone shut after shooting Fayad a text - or at least attempting to - that crudely says 'hey can u help me fuk this guy w/zeitgeist' as he doesn't bother looking at the patch and sort of wanders his gaze around his face with a slow 'hmmm' of thought. "You know, when you're right you're fucking right, right?" He turns a wink over towards Ash, the face of a plotting man. "Nothing fucking matters, burn it all to the goddamn ground, like the bones sift through the fucking ashes. What do we gotta do?"
Fayad exhales quietly as he checks his phone, frowning as he considers the logistics of the request. He permits the other two to speak to the emissary for now. "I prefer the flames of the dragon. At least he's a spirit born of this world and not an outsider trying to gatecrash onto our plane," he mutters.
Ash lifts their chin slightly at Novel's wink, at least proving that he has their attention. They tilt their head in the Next man's direction, their dreadlocks shifting slightly with the movement. Their golden eyes, shifting a bit green, remain on Novel, though the prismatic coloring of their lenses makes that less obvious than it could be. Their hands remain in their pocket, still waiting for a proper spiel, or at least listening for the response to Novel's question.
Perhaps not recognizing the danger of the lure that Novel provides as they dangle that elusive possibility of a recruit in front of this man. He doesn't seem to recnogize the potential danger he's in, either! "That's right! You just have to let go! Just let it be, and it will come!" He sounds excited, stepping forward and putting himself into a postition of vulnerability without meaning to while Ash and Fayad provide more measured responses to the man's attempt to persuade them to his vision of a world wiped clean.
Fayad begins the practiced art of texting to Novel, giving him some advice over text. 'tell him that you're working on supplanting the real world with a dream of the way things should be, and invite him to get attuned with the otherworld so he can help you drag it onto the prime material plane. see if he 'approves'. but actually i'll dreamsnare him and then he'll be fucked.'
Fayad considers that whether Novel can actually give the man intelligible ritualistic gobbledegook might be beyond him, but...it'll be funny either way.
Ash decides, on a whim, to give the man a particular look, moving their eyes from Novel to the recruiter. They smile, impish, and tilt their head forward, as if listening. They take off their glasses, as it's night, anyways, and their will o' wisps aren't *that* bright. With their clear eyes, those with a sense for such things might notice something off about the way they look at him. "You just said why wait, now you say let it be? You should make up your mind." Mal de ojo, the Evil Eye - a fae curse upon the man, though those outside of the Sensitives likely would not have a clue that it's happening.
Fayad is, in fact, not sensitive at all and thus has no idea what's going on.
Novel pats himself down as his phone beeps, drawing it up and out of his pocket, his own eyes drawing forth a certain amount of sanity. He checks his phone. He grins. It's horrible. There's a humor in it, but it's the sort of humor a wolf has when they see the doe they've been chasing get stuck in a beartrap. He reaches over with his other man to slap the man right on the back, parroting what comes out from Fayad's instructions. "So fucking... I'm working on a uhhhh... yeah, Ash here is right, right? Fucking - take it all into your goddamn hands, I've been doing something like that! Supplanting the real world with a Dream of how things should be. We help each other out, right? Get it set up and we can get the fires started earlier, but you gotta help us out with it a bit you know?"
Novel has no idea about the luck thing either.
Ash suddenly takes from their pocket what they've been holding in there. They have not merely been idle... they've been preparing, and, at last, they are ready. In there hand comes an object wrapped in parchment paper... except, surreptitiously, they've been undoing the folds, opening it up so that they can act at a moment's notice. They grin, widely, and act.
The serendipity of things that come together without intention. Ash takes off his sunglasses to take a closer 'look' at this man who's looking to try and convert this to his nhilistic death-cult - and turning the tune of his luck into a sour note of dischord! Just then, Novel is seeming to agree with the man who's emboldened by thbe seeming attention he's maintaining even if not all of the group of three are being completley receptive. "Why wait thirteen years, I mean" he says toward ash, as Novel pats him on the back. "Just let it end n-" That pat sets in motion of unfortunate series of events; The slap to his back causes this man to stumble forward just a half-step, but it's enough. As Ash watches over a bite of doughnut, the step forward causes him to catch a pebble on the ground, or a bump from some forgotten headstone or grave buried in the soil that catches his sole. He trips forward, and manages to somehow thread the three people he's approached and he's falling down the hill toward the base of the cemetery! Even before his body comes to a stop a couple of dozen feet away however, it's clear to tell that those first few tumbles went poorly for the vertibre in his neck. The man through his own misfortune, (no?) seems to have ... perished. Leaviung the three with an entirely different problem now.
Fayad drily comments, "Look like Jack fell down the hill," staring after the tumbled corpse with an air of disbelief.
OOC: Thank you guys very much for participating I haven't had the chance to write in some time so I'm glad for the chance to get back into it a bit! Assume you'll need to contact your cult/society/sect etc. to take care of the body but the main focus of the prompt has been met! YOu may continue and I will respond of course, but you're free to head down at your leisure.
Ash laughs, and laughs, and laughs. They bend over in half, cackling, as if this is the best thing to happen to them in weeks. "He just... he just fucking died!" They wince, their ribs still sore, but still chuckles. "Just... decided to not wait, and fucking end it now!" They wipe tears from their eyes, sighing as they groan with satisfaction. "Oh... oh man, that's great. Y'all're taking care of that, right? Since Novel murdered him, sounds like it's a Scion thing." They pull out their phone, so they can text someone about what just happened, grinning.
Novel blinks at the corpse. He blinks at his hand. He looks back over to Fayad and Ash and then makes a slow, disappointed, "Awwwwh," noise, putting his hands in his pockets, kicking a pebble and looking disappointed. "I wanted to fucking torture him first." He siggggghs -- but then looks buoyed by Ash's words. "Fucking TRUE! That was GREAT fucking timing. Guess he wanted to..." He pauses for emphasis, grinning downwards, "Rush HEADLONG to his grave." Ayyy. He still got it. "Yeah sure, we're pressed up right against the forest right? I spotted a few fucking manticores. We'll just chuck 'em there and they can take care of it."
Ash sighs, rubbing more tears out of their eyes, only to laugh again at Novel's pun. "Fucking great, man. Though... not saying that that's dumb... but you can literally just burn it, with your...." They wave at Fayad, then takes a bite of their donut before heading out. No, they don't finish the sentence.
The situation escalates when Novel, spurred by Fayad's secret messaging, attempts to coax the man into a trap by pretending to align with his ideals, proposing a scheme to replace the real world with a dream of how things should be. Unexpectedly, the encounter takes a deadly turn due to a series of misfortunate events: a pat on the back leads the cultist to trip and tumble down the cemetery hill, resulting fatally. The bizarre and accidental demise of the stranger induces a mix of shock and dark amusement among the group. Ash finds the tragic end hysterically ironic, while Novel expresses a grim satisfaction mixed with disappointment at missing the opportunity for further interrogation. The group concludes to dispose of the body, hinting at their own murky affiliations and capabilities, as they humorously contemplate the absurdity of their encounter, underlining the night with a grim but fitting twist of fate.
(Ash's odd encounter(SRLucas):SRLucas)
[Mon Aug 19 2024]
At Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 81F(27C) degrees, There is a waning gibbous moon.
(Your target and their allies are approached by a seemingly harmless stranger in Haven's local coffee shop. The stranger, who introduces themselves as a "friend," begins to speak in cryptic riddles and prophecies, hinting at a looming disaster that will engulf Haven and potentially the world. As the conversation progresses, the stranger reveals that they are a member of The Black Flame, seeking to recruit new disciples. The characters must decide how to respond. They could attempt to infiltrate the cult, try to dissuade the stranger from their destructive path, or confront the cult directly. Their decision could have far-reaching consequences, placing them in direct conflict with The Black Flame and their dangerous ideology.)
OOC: I appreciate the time you're taking to give me some of your day! Go ahead and give me some posts about what you had going on and we'll work this prompt into your scene!
Fayad is busy choking on salt and doing his best impression of a beached whale on the ground of the graveyard, desperately trying to recover from being hit in the solar plexus very hard and then being doused in non-breathable powder while sucking air.
While Fayad is having a moment, it seems that Ash and Novel won't quite pick up just yet the arrival of a new presence. Nothing insidious (yet) but rather a silouhetted figure slowly approaching; perhaps watching the antics of this group that's gathered in the late hours here on Hanging hill and within the Cemetery made so famous by the mauseleums of the Arkwrights and their sordid history.
Ash climbs up as the spectral vines fall away into the aether, and inspects their skin. No, the scratches from the ghosts' vines are all gone, or didn't happen... as is the norm. Their cracked ribs and bruises, sadly, still seem to be there, being formed from being thrown against tombstones. Still, they seem to be healing, at least, and make their way to their bare feet, grunting in pain, then wiping a few tears out of their eyes. "Fuck, man...."
Novel is covered in grass stains, bruised (though they're rapidly fading), torn up around the legs and pants by magically conjured thorns (again, fading), and brushing himself off from the exciting adventure he just had. While other people are groaning in pain and suffering he looks to be in a jolly good mood, his face flushed with good health and delight from the rousing rigamarole caused by rumbling wraiths and wrights engaged in desperate battle. He stabbed a few ghosts, he got to sample some suffering, and it gave him some IDEAS to do things in the future. He pocketed some of the astral ashes that were left behind and is now sidling out from where he took cover behind a tilted angel monument to head over to the others. "I know, right? That was fucking INCREDIBLE. I wish we could fucking do this shit every day!" He says merrily to Ash as he beelines over to Fayad to slap him way too hard on the back to get the dust out.
Fayad has absolutely fuck-all for regeneration and flops pathetically onto his stomach.
Ash grumbles befoore telling Novel, "What are you talking about? You *can* do it about every day. This graveyard is *fucked*, man. Ghosts and spirits and shit are always getting up to party and possess people... I just hate that the party is usually to my detriment... but, training, you know?" They shrug, then looks over at Fayad. "You, uh... broke anything, my man? If there's cuts, I have bandages...."
What comes from these little jaunts in the darkness and shadows where nobody else can see? Experience. Knowledge of the reality of the world even as it slowly ticks on toward it's own damnation. "This is just the beginning you know" comes a voice out of the shadow. Despite the native talents of those here, the owner of the voice seems to have escaped notice until now. "Just the beginning" he repeats, that silouhetted figure slowly beginning to approach out of the faint, dim lights that from the old Gallows road that leads up the hill, or the faint lights that minimally dot the landscape of the cemetery itself.
Ash perks up, flaring their nose then tilting their head, trying to find the source of the voice. Then, they summon their will o' wisps again, the little balls of pale fiery light bobbing about them as they look around. "Who are you," they ask, narrowing their eyes.
Fayad gets up to his knees, wheezing as Novel batters the salt out of his body. Truly, this would be a miracle if it was not for the fact he is not speaking in metaphor at all - Fayad spits up congealed white powder onto the grass as he gets up onto his feet, exhaling.
"Fuck, I can? That's fucking INCREDIBLE." Novel has the appearance of a manchild who, for the first time in his life, has realized that he has disposable income and can now buy as much pocky and bacon as he wants at Ash's words, straightening up and giving another extra hard SMACK before leaving off casually abusing Fayad under the guise of 'helping' before someone can call him out for it as he rolls his shoulders. "So much fucking mayhem. Ahh..." He sighs, deeply, taking in a deep breath of that warm nighttime air. It takes him a few moments to register the voice's name, craning his head to turn to it and squinting out over there. "Man, fuck off you homeless bum," he mentions casually.
The seasoning of the earth, it doesn't taste any better as Fayad finishes sputtering the last grains of the tangy substance out of his mouth. Novel and Ash both turn their attention to the new arrival with suspicion and perhaps rightly so. "Just somebody. Nobody. Not much different from you folks" he says cryptically, his words chosen with care even as his tone tries to achieve the epitome of casual disregard. "Man, I wish" comes that too-casual reply to Novel's words. "Rent is killer, and whatever this election bullshit says, I don't see it going down!" He flashes a normal man's grin - everyday problems for everyday people. "You guys handled that as well as could be expected though, given the circumstance. This place is never gonna settle, you know. Too much turbulence."
Ash tries to get a good look at the guy with their will o' wisps providing light, so that they can see who they're talking to.
Of course! This man approaches and as he does so he's bathed in light from the faint cast of the will o' the wisps. He's average in height and build but his eyes are piercing, capitvating. Not in that tell-tale way that comes with power or corruptuon but rather a more natural kind of charisma. Not gold, but not amber they rest in that burnished honey kind of color, soft flecks of brown and green throughout his irises.
Fayad wipes at his mouth and draws himself up to his full height of five-foot-nothing, eying the man suspiciously. "H-hey," he wheezes, and then finally gets his breathing under control. "Yeah. Real turbulent.'"
Novel nods back at the guy. Yep. The other dude gets it, "Fucking right, you know? Just goes up and up and up every fucking day, makes you want to throw politicians into the woodchipper as they casually accept backhanded deals and bribing was openly made legal in this country it's some real goddamn BULLSHIT," the man easily rants out, able to go off on the lightest touch about how THE MAN is horrible and how THE MAN is screwing everyone else over. But he's still a crazy person. How does he know this? Like recognizes like. "Why the fuuuuck would I want it to settle? In spite of what the big man said-" He jerks a thumb over his shoulder at Fayad, who's like, half his size, "I think it'd be fucking incredible if the ghosts caused some problems. Maybe they can burn the DMV down to the ground on the way out."
Ash nods to the man, eyes settling on his, with their own very similar pair, down to the golden cast with bits of green. Not that it's easily seen under their sunglasses, but they smile softly. They say, "Oh, it's settle down... give it 13 years or so." Their smile cracks into a grin as they wobble their hand, amused by their own joke. They listen to Novel ramble, though, not competing as they push their hands in their pocket and wait. People don't generally wander into a graveyard to casually chat... probably? It may actually *be* a Haven thing... but still, they wait and watch.
"I mean, why wait, right?" This man offers the most friendly smile in the world, spreading his hands a little bit as he speaks, all but nodding in co-sign to the fringe rantings that start to come from Novel. He points to Fayad, "He's all banged up, yeah? I mean, why keep suffering? The fight ... it's a war of attrition, man!" His own words take on that tinge of fevered belief, that pitch bringing a fresh glow to his eyes. "But there's a better way, you know? No suffering, no worries. Just ... the Next."
meant that as a private ..... yeah a private.
Ash does not respond to the man's words, as he whispers to Novel, it seems.
Fayad rolls his eyes. "Oh, fuck, the Next?", he says, recognizing this immediately. "God. Last time I was at this graveyard I helped two of your men close a rift they could only half-open. Only one of them survived. You barely fucking train your ritualists, come on. That was amateur. I've been aware for less than a year and even I know that was amateur. Do you have any idea who you're proposing to euthanize?", he glares at the emissary. "I am Fayad al-Munaqadh, the Scion of the Inferno. We share many ideas but not many means or methods."
Fayad adds, as an aside, "I recruited him, after, actually, he's doing well in New York. Thomas."
Novel sort of zones out as the man goes off on a rant in a completely different direction, apparently used to these sorts of sales pitches, but also, probably because he's a demonborn who wants to prolong and create more suffering, remarking, "Right? it's fucking TERRIBLE." He starts texting on his phone. He doesn't actually care. "Hey it's interesting that you fucking mention that, I think I got a way to go that way. You ever heard of a bar named the AMBITION? Great fucking ambiance. I think you'd love going there, me and you, could have a lot of fucking fun. Bring your friends along too, right?" He's not even bothering whispering. Also, people might want to pop if they have acute hearing. Or whatnow.
Ash listens to the others, as the conversation goes into a rather Scionic direction. They do smile as Fayad asks if the guy knows who he is, introducing himself. Almost like they're proud of him, but since that doesn't make much sense, it instead may be interpreted as being reminded of something nice. After a pause, though, they change their mind, speaking up. "What's this Next stuff?"
"All it takes is one" this man says to Fayad first, his words catching his attention and openin his smile even more broadly. "We always work toward the End, friend. Why not consider it? It seems like you have the eyes open to see the futility of it, right? Let the Flame consume, and cleanse us all!" Oh yeah, this man is truly a nutjob it sounds like - and now Ash and Novel can denote the small but significant patch on the man's nondescript jacket. A small globe of the world wreathed in black flames.
Novel agrees, "Yep, futility." before snapping the phone shut after shooting Fayad a text - or at least attempting to - that crudely says 'hey can u help me fuk this guy w/zeitgeist' as he doesn't bother looking at the patch and sort of wanders his gaze around his face with a slow 'hmmm' of thought. "You know, when you're right you're fucking right, right?" He turns a wink over towards Ash, the face of a plotting man. "Nothing fucking matters, burn it all to the goddamn ground, like the bones sift through the fucking ashes. What do we gotta do?"
Fayad exhales quietly as he checks his phone, frowning as he considers the logistics of the request. He permits the other two to speak to the emissary for now. "I prefer the flames of the dragon. At least he's a spirit born of this world and not an outsider trying to gatecrash onto our plane," he mutters.
Ash lifts their chin slightly at Novel's wink, at least proving that he has their attention. They tilt their head in the Next man's direction, their dreadlocks shifting slightly with the movement. Their golden eyes, shifting a bit green, remain on Novel, though the prismatic coloring of their lenses makes that less obvious than it could be. Their hands remain in their pocket, still waiting for a proper spiel, or at least listening for the response to Novel's question.
Perhaps not recognizing the danger of the lure that Novel provides as they dangle that elusive possibility of a recruit in front of this man. He doesn't seem to recnogize the potential danger he's in, either! "That's right! You just have to let go! Just let it be, and it will come!" He sounds excited, stepping forward and putting himself into a postition of vulnerability without meaning to while Ash and Fayad provide more measured responses to the man's attempt to persuade them to his vision of a world wiped clean.
Fayad begins the practiced art of texting to Novel, giving him some advice over text. 'tell him that you're working on supplanting the real world with a dream of the way things should be, and invite him to get attuned with the otherworld so he can help you drag it onto the prime material plane. see if he 'approves'. but actually i'll dreamsnare him and then he'll be fucked.'
Fayad considers that whether Novel can actually give the man intelligible ritualistic gobbledegook might be beyond him, but...it'll be funny either way.
Ash decides, on a whim, to give the man a particular look, moving their eyes from Novel to the recruiter. They smile, impish, and tilt their head forward, as if listening. They take off their glasses, as it's night, anyways, and their will o' wisps aren't *that* bright. With their clear eyes, those with a sense for such things might notice something off about the way they look at him. "You just said why wait, now you say let it be? You should make up your mind." Mal de ojo, the Evil Eye - a fae curse upon the man, though those outside of the Sensitives likely would not have a clue that it's happening.
Fayad is, in fact, not sensitive at all and thus has no idea what's going on.
Novel pats himself down as his phone beeps, drawing it up and out of his pocket, his own eyes drawing forth a certain amount of sanity. He checks his phone. He grins. It's horrible. There's a humor in it, but it's the sort of humor a wolf has when they see the doe they've been chasing get stuck in a beartrap. He reaches over with his other man to slap the man right on the back, parroting what comes out from Fayad's instructions. "So fucking... I'm working on a uhhhh... yeah, Ash here is right, right? Fucking - take it all into your goddamn hands, I've been doing something like that! Supplanting the real world with a Dream of how things should be. We help each other out, right? Get it set up and we can get the fires started earlier, but you gotta help us out with it a bit you know?"
Novel has no idea about the luck thing either.
Ash suddenly takes from their pocket what they've been holding in there. They have not merely been idle... they've been preparing, and, at last, they are ready. In there hand comes an object wrapped in parchment paper... except, surreptitiously, they've been undoing the folds, opening it up so that they can act at a moment's notice. They grin, widely, and act.
The serendipity of things that come together without intention. Ash takes off his sunglasses to take a closer 'look' at this man who's looking to try and convert this to his nhilistic death-cult - and turning the tune of his luck into a sour note of dischord! Just then, Novel is seeming to agree with the man who's emboldened by thbe seeming attention he's maintaining even if not all of the group of three are being completley receptive. "Why wait thirteen years, I mean" he says toward ash, as Novel pats him on the back. "Just let it end n-" That pat sets in motion of unfortunate series of events; The slap to his back causes this man to stumble forward just a half-step, but it's enough. As Ash watches over a bite of doughnut, the step forward causes him to catch a pebble on the ground, or a bump from some forgotten headstone or grave buried in the soil that catches his sole. He trips forward, and manages to somehow thread the three people he's approached and he's falling down the hill toward the base of the cemetery! Even before his body comes to a stop a couple of dozen feet away however, it's clear to tell that those first few tumbles went poorly for the vertibre in his neck. The man through his own misfortune, (no?) seems to have ... perished. Leaviung the three with an entirely different problem now.
Fayad drily comments, "Look like Jack fell down the hill," staring after the tumbled corpse with an air of disbelief.
OOC: Thank you guys very much for participating I haven't had the chance to write in some time so I'm glad for the chance to get back into it a bit! Assume you'll need to contact your cult/society/sect etc. to take care of the body but the main focus of the prompt has been met! YOu may continue and I will respond of course, but you're free to head down at your leisure.
Ash laughs, and laughs, and laughs. They bend over in half, cackling, as if this is the best thing to happen to them in weeks. "He just... he just fucking died!" They wince, their ribs still sore, but still chuckles. "Just... decided to not wait, and fucking end it now!" They wipe tears from their eyes, sighing as they groan with satisfaction. "Oh... oh man, that's great. Y'all're taking care of that, right? Since Novel murdered him, sounds like it's a Scion thing." They pull out their phone, so they can text someone about what just happened, grinning.
Novel blinks at the corpse. He blinks at his hand. He looks back over to Fayad and Ash and then makes a slow, disappointed, "Awwwwh," noise, putting his hands in his pockets, kicking a pebble and looking disappointed. "I wanted to fucking torture him first." He siggggghs -- but then looks buoyed by Ash's words. "Fucking TRUE! That was GREAT fucking timing. Guess he wanted to..." He pauses for emphasis, grinning downwards, "Rush HEADLONG to his grave." Ayyy. He still got it. "Yeah sure, we're pressed up right against the forest right? I spotted a few fucking manticores. We'll just chuck 'em there and they can take care of it."
Ash sighs, rubbing more tears out of their eyes, only to laugh again at Novel's pun. "Fucking great, man. Though... not saying that that's dumb... but you can literally just burn it, with your...." They wave at Fayad, then takes a bite of their donut before heading out. No, they don't finish the sentence.