Encounterlogs
Fayads Odd Encounter Sr Chara 240916
In the midst of the bustling and gritty Great News Community Center, Fayad grapples with the frustrations of daily management and an unexpected visit from state police, hinting at a mix of corruption, suspicion, and weary routine. Amidst this backdrop, a tapestry of community effort and individual struggles unfolds, displaying the center's role as a sanctuary for those battling addiction and seeking solace. The encounter with the officers, laden with insinuations of a quick, under-the-table resolution, underscores the pervasive challenges Fayad faces, managing not just the center's operations but also navigating the murky waters of law enforcement and societal expectations.
Parallelly, Lilah and Harriet confront a pressing dilemma as an ambitious college student, Emily, threatens to expose the supernatural realm to the public. With the potential to gravely endanger their secretive community and those involuntarily thrust into its shadows, Lilah and Harriet work to contain the situation. Through understanding, persuasion, and the promise of more responsible guidance, they seek to educate Emily on the potential consequences of her revelations and redirect her fervor towards more constructive avenues. Their efforts culminate in a moment of cautious optimism, as Emily, swayed by their arguments and the prospect of contributing more meaningfully, agrees to reconsider her actions. This convergence of personal determination and communal responsibility highlights the ongoing battle against ignorance, fear, and the weight of untold stories within the heart of this hidden world.
(Fayad's odd encounter(SRChara):SRChara)
[Sun Sep 15 2024]
In the busy foyer of Great News Community Center
The community center's foyer has a gritty, lived-in feel. Harried volunteers weave through a mix of individuals, some bearing the weight of hard-lived stories on their way to addiction counseling. The aroma from the soup kitchen mingles with a sense of desperation and hope, while a small chapel to the north offers a quiet corner of solace, its doors open to all. Nearby, the religious bookstore stands as a beacon of faith amidst the tangible air of struggle.
Mounted prominently on the wall opposite the entrance is a large cross, along with a slogan: Jesus didn't just give good news, he gave GREAT NEWS!
Aside from it, on the wall next to the entrance to the chapel, a large painting of Saint George engaged in a heavenly battle with a ferocious, massive red dragon dominates the wall, a poignant symbol of the ever-present battle against addiction.
Signs give directions to parts of the community center:
(North) Chapel
(East) Soup Kitchen & Multi-Purpose Room
(South) Bookstore & Gifts
The southeastern wall bears a decorative mural of Jacob observing the ladder to Heaven.
It is afternoon, about 76F(24C) degrees,
(Someone has sent the state police after your target. Perhaps they're a real criminal or perhaps they've been framed, in either case it's up to them to get their arrest warrant handled and removed.
)
Fayad is simply doing paperwork at the front desk of Great News, maintaining his status as proprietor.
The foyer of the Great News Community Center is alive with activity. Volunteers hurry past with armloads of supplies, their footsteps echoing faintly against the gritty floors, worn by years of constant use. The scent of fresh bread and warm soup wafts from the nearby kitchen, mingling with the faint smell of incense drifting from the chapel to the north. A few visitors sit in quiet reflection under the watchful gaze of the large cross. A soft hum of conversation fills the air as individuals use the many amenities of the center
Through the normal buzz of activity the front doors swing open allowing two state police officers to enter. The brightness of the foyer casts sharp reflections off their badges as they pause, scanning the room before locking eyes on the front desk. one of them reaches for a piece of paper tucked in his pocket looking Fayad and comparing something on it giving a nod to the second. They both step forward hands on their holsters as they cut through the throng of people directly to the front desk
Fayad sighs and glances up at the policemen, extremely aggravated. "This is the fourth fucking time," he mutters. "What is it this time?", he asks, placing his hands on top of the desk, folding them together, his gauntlet gleaming in the light.
The first officer, a burly man with a thick mustache, steps forward, his eyes flicking between Fayad and the paper in his hand. Without a word, he slaps the folded warrant onto the desk, the sound sharp in the quiet that follows. Fayad something, he mutters, squinting at the name. "This you?" His tone is flat, but there's an undercurrent of boredom, as if this is just another stop on a long, monotonous shift.
The second officer a leaner man with a sharp jawline keeps his hand casually on his holster, eying the room casually. "Nice place you've got here.. seems like you're running a real successful operation." His gaze lingers on Fayad's gauntlet for a moment giving the first officer a look, his tone light but suggestive. "We could make this a quick in-and-out. No fuss. Maybe... save you some trouble?"
The first office shrugs a the second, his tone nonchalant as they both keep their voices lowered so others dont easily hear. Its been a busy day, and we wouldnt mind calling this a misunderstanding. You know, something that doesnt need to hit the paperwork. His eyes meet Fayads, a subtle implication hanging in the air, but delivered with an easy smile.
Lilah needs just a moment please!
(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.
)
Currently, as is usual for the foolishly determined and overburdened redhead, Lilah sits on her bed in her dorm room, nose deep in a pre-law textbook, with a tablet open beside her on which she appears to be taking notes. On occasion, she reaches over for a nibble of a reheated falafel, entirely distractedly. She might not even truly be tasting what she's eating, she's so deep in her study.
It's a day as any other, Lilah occupied with her studies. It's a nice day, even - slightly too warm but with the window cracked the breeze gently brushes through, caught by the ocean and filtering in the delightful scent of sea. But it's not outside the dorm room that's the problem for Lilah. It is inside. For today and now, there is a meeting. A call to arms. Designed by the other roommates that do not possess much more than a deeply abiding interest in studies.
At first it was something silly. Practicing witchcraft, crystals, and pulling up tomes that lack knowledge or power, the common smokescreen and curtains of nothing. But today. Oh, today of all days, the email beeped on Lilah's computer. Images of the supernatural. Manticores, and other beasts, people showing off inhuman powers and flagrantly wearing the imagery of The Order in their fight and practices. And the excited chattering, flying of emails, the intent to create an exposure of the world - mingled with information of The Order's members, their homes, their safehouses, places to bother them, to locate: Dangerous information and things that would be awkward to share as a group as a whole.
One of her roomies, planning to have an expose and a press release to throw it out into the world as wild proof with excited notes about GRADES and maybe even AWARDS and how AMAZING it is and how well her life will go if those goes out.
But of course, it's a little dangerous for everyone to know where you live, hm? Not all of them are as innocent as college students - though Lilah may of course want to reach out to someone to help put a stop to the other, electronic end of this.
For a few moments, Lilah just ignores the beeps of her email. She's good at that, these days. It's been a long time since she has really had any kind of a social life, thanks to her choices and the lack thereof over the past year, and only recently that anything close to friendship has lingered on her horizons again. So the beeping? The texts? They're ignored at first as she turns another page. But when they keep on coming? She starts to worry.
And so Lilah reaches over for her phone, not the tablet on which she works which is deliberately cut off from any wifi. Pulling up the emails, she reads, then rereads, her brow furrowing a bit. "What the hell?" she finally mutters. "Father Jack would have an absolute fit if he knew people were..." And then she notices a little more, and her train of thought leaves the campus all together as she reaches for her phone, forwarding the emails on to one Harriet. Moments after, she's speaking over comms. "Harry? Check your email. I think we've... possibly? Uhh, got a problem."
"Good evening, Lilah, I will have a look," comes through the Order comms as Harriet replies to Lilah. She heads over to her desk where her laptop is set up, settling down upon the wheeled chair to slide in and pull up her email with a few clicks of a wireless mouse. As she views the images, hazel eyes narrow and soft lips thin as outer corners form a deep, creasing frown. Reaching up to touch a finger to her earpiece, the Warden speaks into the comms again, "Lilah, are you all right? Where are you?" as she pushes away from the desk and rises to stand, gathering some items from the room to prepare for whatever may be coming.
"I'm fine," Lilah says. It's her usual claim, the litany said whether she's covered in bruises and bleeding or perfectly contentedly curled up with her books. Which she is, today, though her back still shows off some pretty bright and colorful bruises gained the night before. "Little stiff from studying so long. I'm just in my room." She pauses there, then asks over the comms, "Do you think it's something to worry about?"
The source of the emails is a person Lilah knows but, probably doesn't think about. One of the normal, everyday, mundane friends. A reporter-in-the-making by the name of Emily, brown hair, sort of mousy, keeps to herself. Always carries that notebook around with her and juggles that and the recording apps on her smartphone. Her neighbor, even, who's likely still there, firing this message off and ccing everyone in the dorm. Thankfully when Lilah studies it more carefully she discovers it went straight into the spam filter, destined to end up in the trash due to how everything is worded and likely other protections.
But some of them images are even of Harriet and Lilah both!
Defending humanity from the life-draining scourge that is stronger supernaturals, or even other humans, stopping the abuse of dark magic, harvesting the hearts of children en masse, and perhaps even attempting to save those that have fallen under the thrall of those that possess various mental powers, surely. Surely Lilah and Harriet can both think of many examples to mind where they have spent efforts to rescue people.
Returning to the laptop once more to scroll a bit further, Harriet sees an image of herself. She tilts her head to the right, eying it with a fair amount of uncertainty and then scrutiny. The woman doesn't have the vanity of a demigoddess at all. "Stiff from studying too long?" gets asked, tone sounding doubtful over what Lilah has claiming, but she does not press, answering the question that is posed by the younger woman instead. "It is certainly not the sort of thing we wish to have widely advertised. However, with the advent of AI and its growing tendency to propagate falsehoods via fabricated imagery, attempting to pass off fiction as fact across the internet, it has -- rather ironically might I add -- worked to our advantage," Harriet is saying whilst pressing a finger to her earpiece as she navigates the halls of her massive home. "While some individuals are easily deceived, and these images spread like wildfire, they are, more often than not, quickly dismissed as absurd. From the 'three-fingered Pope' addressing a grand crowd in Lisbon, to the discovery of 'giant, ancient skeletons' supposedly buried beneath the ancient remains of Mesopotamian rivers -- and let us not overlook the tales of Elon Musk's supposed robot wives, each of these falsehoods has actually made it far easier to sweep the true supernatural occurrences quietly beneath the rug when genuine evidence does surface." After her rambling, she does say, "But it is best to attempt to stop this from getting out any more than it has. We really don't need any more attention, and there are already creepy people waiting outside of my home now and then..." Her voice trails off a moment. "I'll come by. Do you know the person responsible for this?"
"Getting to the point where my back's starting to hurt and everything's shifting around," Lilah explains mildly, pressing a hand to her almost-six months-along belly as she sighs. "Wait. Wait. The robot wives aren't real? Damn," she snaps her fingers with a determined attempt at humor, though it probably falls flat. "That would make life easier for -real- women." She nods then, though of course Harriet can't see that, and rises. "Yeah. Yeah I know her. Emily. She lives next door. But other than like threaten to burn all her notes... or turn her in to Father Jack, I'm not sure how to handle it."
"Getting to the point where my back's starting to hurt and everything's shifting around," Lilah explains mildly, pressing a hand to her almost-six months-along belly as she sighs. "Wait. Wait. The robot wives aren't real? Damn," she snaps her fingers with a determined attempt at humor, though it probably falls flat. "That would make life easier for -real- women." She nods then, though of course Harriet can't see that, and rises. "Yeah. Yeah I know her. Emily. She lives next door. But other than like threaten to burn all her notes... or turn her in to Father Jack, I'm not sure how to handle it. (re just in case)"
"I can only imagine," the British woman who has never been pregnant before states over how the mother-to-be must feel growing a fetus inside of her womb. "What a boon the robots would have been for humanity," Harriet replies with a chuckle in response to Lilah's attempt at humor, which does not land flat on the tall brunette. "I think the Japanese already have successful alternatives available, though." Growing more serious, Harriet's voice over the comms repeats the name, "Emily," followed by a thoughtful hum. "It is a delicate situation, as it can put some of us at risk and jeopardize the safety of those who remain blissfully ignorant to the supernatural world. If we can -- we should contain this before it spirals into something potentially perilous. We need to convince Emily and anyone else involved that they are meddling with things far beyond their comprehension. I'll meet you shortly. Father Jack might be a good choice to take her to." The Warden drives to her intended destination after, and then approaches Lilah's door, giving it three firm knocks to declare her arrival.
"I'll..." Lilah begins, before there's a knock on her door. Pushing herself forward, the redhead opens the door with a smile, then says, "Let's go talk to her then, shall we?" She steps out, tugs her own door shut, and gestures to the one next to hers. "Here." And without waiting on Harriet, the girl repeats that three firm knocks on Emily's door, instead. "Em!" she calls out, as cheerful and bubbly in voice as usual, no hints of her concern there. "You in babe?"
The drive across town to the college, and the walk with the hustle and bustle of students - a higher percentage of supernaturals than the average population, but still largely humans doing their normal, human things - continue about their lives. Someone walking hurriedly and with determination hardly draws any eyes across the campus.
Tick, tock, goes the clock. While the two of them idle and chat, Emily is gathering her things, her materials, intent on her presentation. There's a long silence in response to the knock. A momentary breath held. You would think that nobody is there, but... the door cracks. A suspicious brown-eye belonging to a brown haired girl: Dullness personified. Perfectly average. Perfectly normal. Slightly widening as she spots Harriet behind Lilah. But her tone is annoyed, spiteful, accusatory. Angry. "How long have you KNOWN. What have you been DOING?"
"Hmm?" Lilah offers a little quirk of an eyebrow, accompanied by her usual smile. "Oh, Ems. I think you should meet my friend Harry," she offers cheerfully, with a gesture to the proper woman standing behind her own pregnant curves. "She can explain it a bit better but... what I've been doing? Besides studying?" A hand casually lays over her belly, a motherly instinct even if she's not terribly pleased about being so pregnant. "Protecting people. Like you, love. Let us in, mmm? We can call Father Jack too, if you like? Just so you know it's all above board. We'll chat, yeah?"
Standing confidently beside Lilah, Harriet waits as the redhead knocks on Emily's door. As he pregnant young woman calls out in her usual cheerful tone, the brunette nods slightly, prepared to step in if needed, her British accent adding an air of precision to the situation. "Lets hope shes receptive," she murmurs quietly, but seriously, glancing over as they await a response. The way Emily looks at them when the door opens has her hazel eyes locking upon hazel ones, and she listens to Lilah before she speaks in her polished British accent, "I understand you are upset. Before you jump to conclusions, we need to talk. You've stumbled across things that are complicated and dangerous -- more than you could possibly imagine." She steps forward slightly. "The safety of this town and your own depends on how we manage this." Then she says, "Father Jack might be a good addition," Lilah's way.
there's a momentary tension, a clenching of the doorknob and it seems like she might almost slam the door right in Lilah and Harriet's face. But there's something there, the way they talk, and perhaps the images of them doing their job for The Order in intent to help people. Perhaps the added benefit that, admittedly, Harriet is famous in her own way. And she carefully relents, pushing open the door and letting it swing open. Revealing the messy room. Notes are all over the walls, strung together with red string, decorating the room, the first thing that comes to mind. A building-block of tracking, planning, stalking, and information-gathering all without getting caught. Beneath that are more typical things to a girl's dorm room - an array of stuffed animals, messily scattered, a full-length pillow for the body, colorful sheets, a glowing computer, the desk around it covered with empty and half-drunken cups of coffee, empty containers of noodles, some of them gathering dust and adding to the distinct odor of the room.
Truly someone who has been busy. The computer monitor still a-glow with all that damning evidence.
"Fine. But don't touch anything," she says, sullenly, Emily depositing herself upon the bed.
Lilah steps inside, her curves still subtle enough that she can move with grace and fluidity, even if it's getting harder. "Thanks," she says. Without pause, she walks over to sit down beside Emily, reaching out a hand to lightly touch her arm. "I get that it's wild, right? Crazy and probably terrifying," she murmurs to the girl. "People aren't supposed to find out like you have, without someone to guide them through the understanding of it all." There's a breath and then she says, "Father Jack or one of the other priests can. Or Harry can. Or I can. But whatever you decide, you're not alone in it now. Just..." She waves at the girl's notes and crazy mind-spill of fear and evidence. "Not this way."
As Harriet steps into the room with Lilah, her eyes are immediately drawn to that chaotic web of red strings that are crisscrossing the walls. What a conspiracy board that is -- except that's a reality board, all in all. She doesn't know whether to be impressed or horrified, but her attention slowly shifts to Emily who clearly has a mind that is trying too hard to make sense of a world she's realised she doesn't even begin to understand. The Warden takes a moment to think things through before daring to speak. "Emily," she addresses the stranger, trying to choose each word carefully. "You have done an extraordinary amount of work to piece all of this together, and your determination and intelligence is evident. I really do understand that it must feel overwhelming, even terrifying, to suddenly be faced with these truths."
wraps her arms tightly around a massive stuffed bunny that is almost the same size as the hoodie-wearing girl, putting her head upon the shoulder of that as hair falls somewhat over her eyes, narrowing it into slits as she studies Lilah and Harriet. A puff of breath to blow it from her hair, a slow unwinding at the compliments. "Yeah. It's been..." She raises a hand, gesturing after it, her face a mixture of despair, weariness, a lack of makeup and the deep circles under her eyes. She's exhausted. "It's been a lot." She mumbles into the animal "But. I was going to make sure other people knew. Try to - save them. Get them educated. Knowledge is power," She protests, some, now, to Lilah's words.
Emily wraps her arms tightly around a massive stuffed bunny that is almost the same size as the hoodie-wearing girl, putting her head upon the shoulder of that as hair falls somewhat over her eyes, narrowing it into slits as she studies Lilah and Harriet. A puff of breath to blow it from her hair, a slow unwinding at the compliments. "Yeah. It's been..." She raises a hand, gesturing after it, her face a mixture of despair, weariness, a lack of makeup and the deep circles under her eyes. She's exhausted. "It's been a lot." She mumbles into the animal "But. I was going to make sure other people knew. Try to - save them. Get them educated. Knowledge is power," She protests, some, now, to Lilah's words.
"It is babe, it is," Lilah agrees firmly. "People who know what's what don't usually end up in the messes I've been in." She pauses there, that smile twisting wry and self-effacing before she returns to her urging of someone. "But there are right ways to do it and wrong ways and... doxxing people like me and Harry isn't going to help. It's going to let those monsters know where to find us... or people that hate anything to do with the supernatural and want to hunt us down." She turns those wide, sea-green eyes on Emily then and says, "Why don't you let us help you truly understand what's going on, and then we can help you find a place of strength to reach out. Like... I've got a friend who works with the homeless, but it's really an outreach group for people... who need help beyond just homelessness." Maybe she's stretching the truth by claiming Fayad a friend after one meeting but Emily doesn't know that!
"Maybe you can do something like that too. I know you're deep into journalism. Maybe you can use that to help a group like the Order -protect- people. Let us help get you there? Put all this..." she says as she waves at the chaotic room again. "On hold? I think it'll help put your mind at ease a lot." There's a pause and then she adds, "I can get you in touch with my friend Emmanuel, too, if you don't really want to deal with people with power of any sort. He's totally, completely human, and he does so much to help people anyway."
"It is babe, it is," Lilah agrees firmly. "People who know what's what don't usually end up in the messes I've been in." She pauses there, that smile twisting wry and self-effacing before she returns to her urging of Emily. "But there are right ways to do it and wrong ways and... doxxing people like me and Harry isn't going to help. It's going to let those monsters know where to find us... or people that hate anything to do with the supernatural and want to hunt us down." She turns those wide, sea-green eyes on Emily then and says, "Why don't you let us help you truly understand what's going on, and then we can help you find a place of strength to reach out. Like... I've got a friend who works with the homeless, but it's really an outreach group for people... who need help beyond just homelessness." Maybe she's stretching the truth by claiming Fayad a friend after one meeting but Emily doesn't know that!
"Maybe you can do something like that too. I know you're deep into journalism. Maybe you can use that to help a group like the Order -protect- people. Let us help get you there? Put all this..." she says as she waves at the chaotic room again. "On hold? I think it'll help put your mind at ease a lot." There's a pause and then she adds, "I can get you in touch with my friend Emmanuel, too, if you don't really want to deal with people with power of any sort. He's totally, completely human, and he does so much to help people anyway."
Listening to Lilah, Harriet nods along gently in agreemen as Emily is spoken to. A glance is given to Lilah when she mentions the homeless assistance thing, naturally arched brows furrowing as she immediately seems to be thinking about a certain centre. "I can see how much this has taken from you," she says softly, acknowledging the exhaustion etched into the girls face. "And you are absolutely right that knowledge is power," she repeats that Francis Bacon quote. "But it is also a great responsibility." Maybe Emily already knows a quote similar to that from Spiderman. "And a dangerous one, at that, especially when it involves things that operate outside of the world most people understand." Her voice remains just as serious as she expresses honestly, "The truth is, Emily, that exposing what youve found might not lead to saving people, but instead it might lead them into a far greater danger. Some of what youve uncovered could attract attention from forces you aren't prepared to handle, and the people you want to help wouldn't be able to protect themselves. That's why we are here. We can help manage those risks." A gesture is made towards the wall of evidence and notes. "You heart is absolutely in the right place, but if you truly want to protect others, there is a better way. Let us help we can ensure your safety and the safety of others." Lilah's suggestions are met with more nods as Emily is spoken to, but then she's awash with something tha makes her moan so very faintly, like she's just experienced a bit of a rush, and the stoic positioning of her lips shift to make an uncalled for smile.
The woman sits there, curling in on herself for a long moment at the conversation, her head tilting up and gaze meeting Lilah's bright greens, captivated, briefly, rocking herself back and forth. And then - she huffs. Reaching out to take Lilah's hand. "Ok." She concedes, a small thing, slowly unwinding - aborting her plans to just throw the news all over and consequences and suffering be demaned with information. And the fact that she's told that her way was correct causes her to drop the animal that Emily clings to, straighten out her shoulders and stand. "I'll come with you and... come see." She concludes, eventually, her words measured. Cautious. But there's the tremor of excitement underneath it all, and an intent, inquisitive mind.
Emily is drawn into the rest of those, the scouts and little helpers that keep The Order running and perhaps, maybe, save humanity.
But that's a story for another day.
"Wonderful." Exhaustion escapes Lilah in a tiny little sigh from parted lips, but with that exhaustion comes genuine relief. "Wonderful," she repeats, and this time with a spark of hope as she and Harriet turn to getting Emily the help she needs.
Parallelly, Lilah and Harriet confront a pressing dilemma as an ambitious college student, Emily, threatens to expose the supernatural realm to the public. With the potential to gravely endanger their secretive community and those involuntarily thrust into its shadows, Lilah and Harriet work to contain the situation. Through understanding, persuasion, and the promise of more responsible guidance, they seek to educate Emily on the potential consequences of her revelations and redirect her fervor towards more constructive avenues. Their efforts culminate in a moment of cautious optimism, as Emily, swayed by their arguments and the prospect of contributing more meaningfully, agrees to reconsider her actions. This convergence of personal determination and communal responsibility highlights the ongoing battle against ignorance, fear, and the weight of untold stories within the heart of this hidden world.
(Fayad's odd encounter(SRChara):SRChara)
[Sun Sep 15 2024]
In the busy foyer of Great News Community Center
The community center's foyer has a gritty, lived-in feel. Harried volunteers weave through a mix of individuals, some bearing the weight of hard-lived stories on their way to addiction counseling. The aroma from the soup kitchen mingles with a sense of desperation and hope, while a small chapel to the north offers a quiet corner of solace, its doors open to all. Nearby, the religious bookstore stands as a beacon of faith amidst the tangible air of struggle.
Mounted prominently on the wall opposite the entrance is a large cross, along with a slogan: Jesus didn't just give good news, he gave GREAT NEWS!
Aside from it, on the wall next to the entrance to the chapel, a large painting of Saint George engaged in a heavenly battle with a ferocious, massive red dragon dominates the wall, a poignant symbol of the ever-present battle against addiction.
Signs give directions to parts of the community center:
(North) Chapel
(East) Soup Kitchen & Multi-Purpose Room
(South) Bookstore & Gifts
The southeastern wall bears a decorative mural of Jacob observing the ladder to Heaven.
It is afternoon, about 76F(24C) degrees,
(Someone has sent the state police after your target. Perhaps they're a real criminal or perhaps they've been framed, in either case it's up to them to get their arrest warrant handled and removed.
)
Fayad is simply doing paperwork at the front desk of Great News, maintaining his status as proprietor.
The foyer of the Great News Community Center is alive with activity. Volunteers hurry past with armloads of supplies, their footsteps echoing faintly against the gritty floors, worn by years of constant use. The scent of fresh bread and warm soup wafts from the nearby kitchen, mingling with the faint smell of incense drifting from the chapel to the north. A few visitors sit in quiet reflection under the watchful gaze of the large cross. A soft hum of conversation fills the air as individuals use the many amenities of the center
Through the normal buzz of activity the front doors swing open allowing two state police officers to enter. The brightness of the foyer casts sharp reflections off their badges as they pause, scanning the room before locking eyes on the front desk. one of them reaches for a piece of paper tucked in his pocket looking Fayad and comparing something on it giving a nod to the second. They both step forward hands on their holsters as they cut through the throng of people directly to the front desk
Fayad sighs and glances up at the policemen, extremely aggravated. "This is the fourth fucking time," he mutters. "What is it this time?", he asks, placing his hands on top of the desk, folding them together, his gauntlet gleaming in the light.
The first officer, a burly man with a thick mustache, steps forward, his eyes flicking between Fayad and the paper in his hand. Without a word, he slaps the folded warrant onto the desk, the sound sharp in the quiet that follows. Fayad something, he mutters, squinting at the name. "This you?" His tone is flat, but there's an undercurrent of boredom, as if this is just another stop on a long, monotonous shift.
The second officer a leaner man with a sharp jawline keeps his hand casually on his holster, eying the room casually. "Nice place you've got here.. seems like you're running a real successful operation." His gaze lingers on Fayad's gauntlet for a moment giving the first officer a look, his tone light but suggestive. "We could make this a quick in-and-out. No fuss. Maybe... save you some trouble?"
The first office shrugs a the second, his tone nonchalant as they both keep their voices lowered so others dont easily hear. Its been a busy day, and we wouldnt mind calling this a misunderstanding. You know, something that doesnt need to hit the paperwork. His eyes meet Fayads, a subtle implication hanging in the air, but delivered with an easy smile.
Lilah needs just a moment please!
(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.
)
Currently, as is usual for the foolishly determined and overburdened redhead, Lilah sits on her bed in her dorm room, nose deep in a pre-law textbook, with a tablet open beside her on which she appears to be taking notes. On occasion, she reaches over for a nibble of a reheated falafel, entirely distractedly. She might not even truly be tasting what she's eating, she's so deep in her study.
It's a day as any other, Lilah occupied with her studies. It's a nice day, even - slightly too warm but with the window cracked the breeze gently brushes through, caught by the ocean and filtering in the delightful scent of sea. But it's not outside the dorm room that's the problem for Lilah. It is inside. For today and now, there is a meeting. A call to arms. Designed by the other roommates that do not possess much more than a deeply abiding interest in studies.
At first it was something silly. Practicing witchcraft, crystals, and pulling up tomes that lack knowledge or power, the common smokescreen and curtains of nothing. But today. Oh, today of all days, the email beeped on Lilah's computer. Images of the supernatural. Manticores, and other beasts, people showing off inhuman powers and flagrantly wearing the imagery of The Order in their fight and practices. And the excited chattering, flying of emails, the intent to create an exposure of the world - mingled with information of The Order's members, their homes, their safehouses, places to bother them, to locate: Dangerous information and things that would be awkward to share as a group as a whole.
One of her roomies, planning to have an expose and a press release to throw it out into the world as wild proof with excited notes about GRADES and maybe even AWARDS and how AMAZING it is and how well her life will go if those goes out.
But of course, it's a little dangerous for everyone to know where you live, hm? Not all of them are as innocent as college students - though Lilah may of course want to reach out to someone to help put a stop to the other, electronic end of this.
For a few moments, Lilah just ignores the beeps of her email. She's good at that, these days. It's been a long time since she has really had any kind of a social life, thanks to her choices and the lack thereof over the past year, and only recently that anything close to friendship has lingered on her horizons again. So the beeping? The texts? They're ignored at first as she turns another page. But when they keep on coming? She starts to worry.
And so Lilah reaches over for her phone, not the tablet on which she works which is deliberately cut off from any wifi. Pulling up the emails, she reads, then rereads, her brow furrowing a bit. "What the hell?" she finally mutters. "Father Jack would have an absolute fit if he knew people were..." And then she notices a little more, and her train of thought leaves the campus all together as she reaches for her phone, forwarding the emails on to one Harriet. Moments after, she's speaking over comms. "Harry? Check your email. I think we've... possibly? Uhh, got a problem."
"Good evening, Lilah, I will have a look," comes through the Order comms as Harriet replies to Lilah. She heads over to her desk where her laptop is set up, settling down upon the wheeled chair to slide in and pull up her email with a few clicks of a wireless mouse. As she views the images, hazel eyes narrow and soft lips thin as outer corners form a deep, creasing frown. Reaching up to touch a finger to her earpiece, the Warden speaks into the comms again, "Lilah, are you all right? Where are you?" as she pushes away from the desk and rises to stand, gathering some items from the room to prepare for whatever may be coming.
"I'm fine," Lilah says. It's her usual claim, the litany said whether she's covered in bruises and bleeding or perfectly contentedly curled up with her books. Which she is, today, though her back still shows off some pretty bright and colorful bruises gained the night before. "Little stiff from studying so long. I'm just in my room." She pauses there, then asks over the comms, "Do you think it's something to worry about?"
The source of the emails is a person Lilah knows but, probably doesn't think about. One of the normal, everyday, mundane friends. A reporter-in-the-making by the name of Emily, brown hair, sort of mousy, keeps to herself. Always carries that notebook around with her and juggles that and the recording apps on her smartphone. Her neighbor, even, who's likely still there, firing this message off and ccing everyone in the dorm. Thankfully when Lilah studies it more carefully she discovers it went straight into the spam filter, destined to end up in the trash due to how everything is worded and likely other protections.
But some of them images are even of Harriet and Lilah both!
Defending humanity from the life-draining scourge that is stronger supernaturals, or even other humans, stopping the abuse of dark magic, harvesting the hearts of children en masse, and perhaps even attempting to save those that have fallen under the thrall of those that possess various mental powers, surely. Surely Lilah and Harriet can both think of many examples to mind where they have spent efforts to rescue people.
Returning to the laptop once more to scroll a bit further, Harriet sees an image of herself. She tilts her head to the right, eying it with a fair amount of uncertainty and then scrutiny. The woman doesn't have the vanity of a demigoddess at all. "Stiff from studying too long?" gets asked, tone sounding doubtful over what Lilah has claiming, but she does not press, answering the question that is posed by the younger woman instead. "It is certainly not the sort of thing we wish to have widely advertised. However, with the advent of AI and its growing tendency to propagate falsehoods via fabricated imagery, attempting to pass off fiction as fact across the internet, it has -- rather ironically might I add -- worked to our advantage," Harriet is saying whilst pressing a finger to her earpiece as she navigates the halls of her massive home. "While some individuals are easily deceived, and these images spread like wildfire, they are, more often than not, quickly dismissed as absurd. From the 'three-fingered Pope' addressing a grand crowd in Lisbon, to the discovery of 'giant, ancient skeletons' supposedly buried beneath the ancient remains of Mesopotamian rivers -- and let us not overlook the tales of Elon Musk's supposed robot wives, each of these falsehoods has actually made it far easier to sweep the true supernatural occurrences quietly beneath the rug when genuine evidence does surface." After her rambling, she does say, "But it is best to attempt to stop this from getting out any more than it has. We really don't need any more attention, and there are already creepy people waiting outside of my home now and then..." Her voice trails off a moment. "I'll come by. Do you know the person responsible for this?"
"Getting to the point where my back's starting to hurt and everything's shifting around," Lilah explains mildly, pressing a hand to her almost-six months-along belly as she sighs. "Wait. Wait. The robot wives aren't real? Damn," she snaps her fingers with a determined attempt at humor, though it probably falls flat. "That would make life easier for -real- women." She nods then, though of course Harriet can't see that, and rises. "Yeah. Yeah I know her. Emily. She lives next door. But other than like threaten to burn all her notes... or turn her in to Father Jack, I'm not sure how to handle it."
"Getting to the point where my back's starting to hurt and everything's shifting around," Lilah explains mildly, pressing a hand to her almost-six months-along belly as she sighs. "Wait. Wait. The robot wives aren't real? Damn," she snaps her fingers with a determined attempt at humor, though it probably falls flat. "That would make life easier for -real- women." She nods then, though of course Harriet can't see that, and rises. "Yeah. Yeah I know her. Emily. She lives next door. But other than like threaten to burn all her notes... or turn her in to Father Jack, I'm not sure how to handle it. (re just in case)"
"I can only imagine," the British woman who has never been pregnant before states over how the mother-to-be must feel growing a fetus inside of her womb. "What a boon the robots would have been for humanity," Harriet replies with a chuckle in response to Lilah's attempt at humor, which does not land flat on the tall brunette. "I think the Japanese already have successful alternatives available, though." Growing more serious, Harriet's voice over the comms repeats the name, "Emily," followed by a thoughtful hum. "It is a delicate situation, as it can put some of us at risk and jeopardize the safety of those who remain blissfully ignorant to the supernatural world. If we can -- we should contain this before it spirals into something potentially perilous. We need to convince Emily and anyone else involved that they are meddling with things far beyond their comprehension. I'll meet you shortly. Father Jack might be a good choice to take her to." The Warden drives to her intended destination after, and then approaches Lilah's door, giving it three firm knocks to declare her arrival.
"I'll..." Lilah begins, before there's a knock on her door. Pushing herself forward, the redhead opens the door with a smile, then says, "Let's go talk to her then, shall we?" She steps out, tugs her own door shut, and gestures to the one next to hers. "Here." And without waiting on Harriet, the girl repeats that three firm knocks on Emily's door, instead. "Em!" she calls out, as cheerful and bubbly in voice as usual, no hints of her concern there. "You in babe?"
The drive across town to the college, and the walk with the hustle and bustle of students - a higher percentage of supernaturals than the average population, but still largely humans doing their normal, human things - continue about their lives. Someone walking hurriedly and with determination hardly draws any eyes across the campus.
Tick, tock, goes the clock. While the two of them idle and chat, Emily is gathering her things, her materials, intent on her presentation. There's a long silence in response to the knock. A momentary breath held. You would think that nobody is there, but... the door cracks. A suspicious brown-eye belonging to a brown haired girl: Dullness personified. Perfectly average. Perfectly normal. Slightly widening as she spots Harriet behind Lilah. But her tone is annoyed, spiteful, accusatory. Angry. "How long have you KNOWN. What have you been DOING?"
"Hmm?" Lilah offers a little quirk of an eyebrow, accompanied by her usual smile. "Oh, Ems. I think you should meet my friend Harry," she offers cheerfully, with a gesture to the proper woman standing behind her own pregnant curves. "She can explain it a bit better but... what I've been doing? Besides studying?" A hand casually lays over her belly, a motherly instinct even if she's not terribly pleased about being so pregnant. "Protecting people. Like you, love. Let us in, mmm? We can call Father Jack too, if you like? Just so you know it's all above board. We'll chat, yeah?"
Standing confidently beside Lilah, Harriet waits as the redhead knocks on Emily's door. As he pregnant young woman calls out in her usual cheerful tone, the brunette nods slightly, prepared to step in if needed, her British accent adding an air of precision to the situation. "Lets hope shes receptive," she murmurs quietly, but seriously, glancing over as they await a response. The way Emily looks at them when the door opens has her hazel eyes locking upon hazel ones, and she listens to Lilah before she speaks in her polished British accent, "I understand you are upset. Before you jump to conclusions, we need to talk. You've stumbled across things that are complicated and dangerous -- more than you could possibly imagine." She steps forward slightly. "The safety of this town and your own depends on how we manage this." Then she says, "Father Jack might be a good addition," Lilah's way.
there's a momentary tension, a clenching of the doorknob and it seems like she might almost slam the door right in Lilah and Harriet's face. But there's something there, the way they talk, and perhaps the images of them doing their job for The Order in intent to help people. Perhaps the added benefit that, admittedly, Harriet is famous in her own way. And she carefully relents, pushing open the door and letting it swing open. Revealing the messy room. Notes are all over the walls, strung together with red string, decorating the room, the first thing that comes to mind. A building-block of tracking, planning, stalking, and information-gathering all without getting caught. Beneath that are more typical things to a girl's dorm room - an array of stuffed animals, messily scattered, a full-length pillow for the body, colorful sheets, a glowing computer, the desk around it covered with empty and half-drunken cups of coffee, empty containers of noodles, some of them gathering dust and adding to the distinct odor of the room.
Truly someone who has been busy. The computer monitor still a-glow with all that damning evidence.
"Fine. But don't touch anything," she says, sullenly, Emily depositing herself upon the bed.
Lilah steps inside, her curves still subtle enough that she can move with grace and fluidity, even if it's getting harder. "Thanks," she says. Without pause, she walks over to sit down beside Emily, reaching out a hand to lightly touch her arm. "I get that it's wild, right? Crazy and probably terrifying," she murmurs to the girl. "People aren't supposed to find out like you have, without someone to guide them through the understanding of it all." There's a breath and then she says, "Father Jack or one of the other priests can. Or Harry can. Or I can. But whatever you decide, you're not alone in it now. Just..." She waves at the girl's notes and crazy mind-spill of fear and evidence. "Not this way."
As Harriet steps into the room with Lilah, her eyes are immediately drawn to that chaotic web of red strings that are crisscrossing the walls. What a conspiracy board that is -- except that's a reality board, all in all. She doesn't know whether to be impressed or horrified, but her attention slowly shifts to Emily who clearly has a mind that is trying too hard to make sense of a world she's realised she doesn't even begin to understand. The Warden takes a moment to think things through before daring to speak. "Emily," she addresses the stranger, trying to choose each word carefully. "You have done an extraordinary amount of work to piece all of this together, and your determination and intelligence is evident. I really do understand that it must feel overwhelming, even terrifying, to suddenly be faced with these truths."
wraps her arms tightly around a massive stuffed bunny that is almost the same size as the hoodie-wearing girl, putting her head upon the shoulder of that as hair falls somewhat over her eyes, narrowing it into slits as she studies Lilah and Harriet. A puff of breath to blow it from her hair, a slow unwinding at the compliments. "Yeah. It's been..." She raises a hand, gesturing after it, her face a mixture of despair, weariness, a lack of makeup and the deep circles under her eyes. She's exhausted. "It's been a lot." She mumbles into the animal "But. I was going to make sure other people knew. Try to - save them. Get them educated. Knowledge is power," She protests, some, now, to Lilah's words.
Emily wraps her arms tightly around a massive stuffed bunny that is almost the same size as the hoodie-wearing girl, putting her head upon the shoulder of that as hair falls somewhat over her eyes, narrowing it into slits as she studies Lilah and Harriet. A puff of breath to blow it from her hair, a slow unwinding at the compliments. "Yeah. It's been..." She raises a hand, gesturing after it, her face a mixture of despair, weariness, a lack of makeup and the deep circles under her eyes. She's exhausted. "It's been a lot." She mumbles into the animal "But. I was going to make sure other people knew. Try to - save them. Get them educated. Knowledge is power," She protests, some, now, to Lilah's words.
"It is babe, it is," Lilah agrees firmly. "People who know what's what don't usually end up in the messes I've been in." She pauses there, that smile twisting wry and self-effacing before she returns to her urging of someone. "But there are right ways to do it and wrong ways and... doxxing people like me and Harry isn't going to help. It's going to let those monsters know where to find us... or people that hate anything to do with the supernatural and want to hunt us down." She turns those wide, sea-green eyes on Emily then and says, "Why don't you let us help you truly understand what's going on, and then we can help you find a place of strength to reach out. Like... I've got a friend who works with the homeless, but it's really an outreach group for people... who need help beyond just homelessness." Maybe she's stretching the truth by claiming Fayad a friend after one meeting but Emily doesn't know that!
"Maybe you can do something like that too. I know you're deep into journalism. Maybe you can use that to help a group like the Order -protect- people. Let us help get you there? Put all this..." she says as she waves at the chaotic room again. "On hold? I think it'll help put your mind at ease a lot." There's a pause and then she adds, "I can get you in touch with my friend Emmanuel, too, if you don't really want to deal with people with power of any sort. He's totally, completely human, and he does so much to help people anyway."
"It is babe, it is," Lilah agrees firmly. "People who know what's what don't usually end up in the messes I've been in." She pauses there, that smile twisting wry and self-effacing before she returns to her urging of Emily. "But there are right ways to do it and wrong ways and... doxxing people like me and Harry isn't going to help. It's going to let those monsters know where to find us... or people that hate anything to do with the supernatural and want to hunt us down." She turns those wide, sea-green eyes on Emily then and says, "Why don't you let us help you truly understand what's going on, and then we can help you find a place of strength to reach out. Like... I've got a friend who works with the homeless, but it's really an outreach group for people... who need help beyond just homelessness." Maybe she's stretching the truth by claiming Fayad a friend after one meeting but Emily doesn't know that!
"Maybe you can do something like that too. I know you're deep into journalism. Maybe you can use that to help a group like the Order -protect- people. Let us help get you there? Put all this..." she says as she waves at the chaotic room again. "On hold? I think it'll help put your mind at ease a lot." There's a pause and then she adds, "I can get you in touch with my friend Emmanuel, too, if you don't really want to deal with people with power of any sort. He's totally, completely human, and he does so much to help people anyway."
Listening to Lilah, Harriet nods along gently in agreemen as Emily is spoken to. A glance is given to Lilah when she mentions the homeless assistance thing, naturally arched brows furrowing as she immediately seems to be thinking about a certain centre. "I can see how much this has taken from you," she says softly, acknowledging the exhaustion etched into the girls face. "And you are absolutely right that knowledge is power," she repeats that Francis Bacon quote. "But it is also a great responsibility." Maybe Emily already knows a quote similar to that from Spiderman. "And a dangerous one, at that, especially when it involves things that operate outside of the world most people understand." Her voice remains just as serious as she expresses honestly, "The truth is, Emily, that exposing what youve found might not lead to saving people, but instead it might lead them into a far greater danger. Some of what youve uncovered could attract attention from forces you aren't prepared to handle, and the people you want to help wouldn't be able to protect themselves. That's why we are here. We can help manage those risks." A gesture is made towards the wall of evidence and notes. "You heart is absolutely in the right place, but if you truly want to protect others, there is a better way. Let us help we can ensure your safety and the safety of others." Lilah's suggestions are met with more nods as Emily is spoken to, but then she's awash with something tha makes her moan so very faintly, like she's just experienced a bit of a rush, and the stoic positioning of her lips shift to make an uncalled for smile.
The woman sits there, curling in on herself for a long moment at the conversation, her head tilting up and gaze meeting Lilah's bright greens, captivated, briefly, rocking herself back and forth. And then - she huffs. Reaching out to take Lilah's hand. "Ok." She concedes, a small thing, slowly unwinding - aborting her plans to just throw the news all over and consequences and suffering be demaned with information. And the fact that she's told that her way was correct causes her to drop the animal that Emily clings to, straighten out her shoulders and stand. "I'll come with you and... come see." She concludes, eventually, her words measured. Cautious. But there's the tremor of excitement underneath it all, and an intent, inquisitive mind.
Emily is drawn into the rest of those, the scouts and little helpers that keep The Order running and perhaps, maybe, save humanity.
But that's a story for another day.
"Wonderful." Exhaustion escapes Lilah in a tiny little sigh from parted lips, but with that exhaustion comes genuine relief. "Wonderful," she repeats, and this time with a spark of hope as she and Harriet turn to getting Emily the help she needs.