Encounterlogs
Illyanas Odd Encounter Sr Ash 241007
Illyana's day begins with the mundane task of overseeing the construction activities at the Vetr-Mart store, an ordinary start that soon veers into the extraordinary as she finds herself ensnared in the beguiling complexities of Temple politics, thanks to an overly chatty Frenchman. Her expertise allows her to escape using shadow-walking, deciding to report the peculiar interaction to the Hand. Attempting to find solace in the sanctuary of her home, the concept of safety is heavily questioned. This sanctuary is disturbed not just by the physical remnants of past intrusions but also by the looming, unsettling presence of someone or something casting rituals in her absence. As she delves deeper into her feelings and the sensory distortions of her living space, she combats the manipulation she suspects with her angelborn and demon aspects, showcasing her struggle between wanting to flee and asserting dominion over her haven.
The mysterious shadows plaguing Illyana's apartment, though possibly imagined, retreat under her determined effort to dispel them, allowing her a momentary respite. However, peace is short-lived as she receives an urgent text pleading for help from someone who had apparently observed her light from outside and sought her assistance. Driven by a mix of skepticism and the need to confront whatever awaits, Illyana steps outside, prepared to face the unknown. The ensuing encounter with Margeret "Maggie" Key-Hale swiftly escalates as Illyana uncovers the true nature of the request – a retrieval mission for a powerful artifact guarded by the undead, set against the backdrop of the Black Flame's cultist activities. The situation quickly resolves with Illyana's decisive actions, leaving no loose ends and reaffirming her control over her domain and the broader, shadowy maneuvers at play within Haven. Through sharp intuition and supernatural prowess, she neutralizes the immediate threat, a sobering reminder of the constant vigilance required in a world teeming with clandestine dangers and the blurred lines between ally and adversary.
(Illyana's odd encounter(SRAsh):SRAsh)
[Sun Oct 6 2024]
In a Cozy Living Room
The walls of this room shifts in shades, from the blue of the entryway shifting to teal to the kitchen in the east, swinging to a vibrant green after coming back in, dipping into the book nook, before turning teal and blue more rapidly on the western wall, so that it fades perfectly into the blue of that doorway.
The walls of this room shifts in shades, from the blue of the entryway shifting to teal to the kitchen in the east, swinging to a vibrant green after coming back in, dipping into the book nook, before turning teal and blue more rapidly on the western wall, so that it The booknook to the south counterpoints directly to the TV setup on the north end, with its modern console and hidden wiring. The couch, black leather, sits against the western wall, with an ottoman against the southern wall perfect for whoever is in the corner to put their feet on. In the western half of the center of the room, in easy reach of the couch, is an old, round wooden table, where anyone can place their food and drinks.perfectly into the blue of that doorway.
Soft plush carpeting round off the room, cut off sharply at the eastern end by the kitchen's linoleum, no wall between the two areas. This allows those in the kitchen to watch the TV, or easily speak to those lounging in the living room.
It is dawn, about 41F(5C) degrees, and the sky is partly covered by dark grey clouds.
(A member of The Black Flame, disguised as a simple townsfolk, approaches your target for assistance. They claim to have lost a valuable family heirloom in the local graveyard and are too frightened to retrieve it. Unbeknownst to your target, the heirloom is a powerful artifact used in the cult's rituals. This encounter will force your target to unravel the truth behind the heirloom and the cult member's real intentions.)
Having dealt with the early, sunday morning business of arranging for the builders to continue generating the improvements to the Vetr-Mart store at fourty five paine avenue within Haven Township, Illyana began to travel home when a frenchman with too much time on his hands and a deterministic outlook on Temple politics drew her into the deep nightmare. Frustrated with this very fact, Illyana used that time where the french decided to monologue about things not being so simple, to shadowwalk away, wherebye she decided to report the encounter to the Hand, returning home to spend the rest of the day in the protection of a nightmare warded safe space.
In the blue-green fade of the living room, safety proves an ill-conceptualized idea. Is it safe? Can it truly *be* safe? In haven? Such intrusive thoughts are common in this town, but certainly far, far more so for someone. After the kidapping in the past, waking in the woods to find smash doors and the smell of wolf in the house, it's a reminder that this place won't ever be the bunker in the woods.
In the blue-green fade of the living room, safety proves an ill-conceptualized idea. Is it safe? Can it truly *be* safe? In haven? Such intrusive thoughts are common in this town, but certainly far, far more so for Illyana. After the kidapping in the past, waking in the woods to find smash doors and the smell of wolf in the house, it's a reminder that this place won't ever be the bunker in the woods.
No, this apartment isn't safe at all... the shadows on the wall are too long, too deep, too dark for this dawn already breaking through. They seem to move, undulating, reaching for Illyana. *Especially* from the east, as if the sun couldn't possibly find purchase on these slippery shadows.@line
Someone must have cast a ritual in here while she was out. Someone must have summoned something. Someone broke in, and let something loose. Someone might still be in here, looking for Illyana, waiting.... Maybe for her to blink. Maybe for her to lower her guard. Maybe to wait for the shadows to reach her. Maybe they're just playing with her, watching her every move for the exact right moment.
You want to go outside. You want to leave this place. You want to be out in the open, where no ambushes lie in wait for you to think that you might be allowed to enjoy your own home. The angelborn tango begins, the want and desires, none foreign, because they all simply must be her own. And there's no one else here for them to be... right? Illyana is all alone in here. Surely. So, she must want to go outside... right?
The shadows aren't reaching from the west, at least. That way is clear.
The desire to go outside is indeed strong; Pervasive, clawing and the shadows, though deep have an answer. Two, in fact, as with the angelborn, there is also demon- And that aspect of Illyana which is demon makes its own demands. The demand that this is Illyana's home. This is Illyana's safe space. Even here in Haven, a nightmare protected zone offers more protection than outside where predators are. And that then draws back to the angel, as Illyana simply cant see herself as a predator in her own right. Wrong, of course, Illyana is a monster, but even still. So angel and demon war, and Illyana remains suspicious. So then what must the outcome be? The shadows are easy to deal with for now. Illyana can simply thrust them back. If they are magical that is a different matter, but at least she will know either way. And so she calls upon that power from within- The light and the fire. She draws it from deep within, her skin beginning to radiate with a soft incandescence that thrusts back the dark space between night and day, where the shadows grow long... Or at least, this is the intention. If successful or not is to be seen, but the demon refuses to relinquish its hold on what it sees as its domain, even as the angel shrinks back, desiring nothing more to yield to that compulsion. That then is but one answer to this. And Illyana has two. The second then. What could it possibly be? Is it equally as supernatural as the light that bathes her home? Is it some other ability that makes itself known? Is it a supernatural fortitude- or some curious mystery of her hybrid nature? Yes and no. For angel and demon war, so when Illyana's mind is filled with a need to leave, there is an equally powerful desire to deny that which seeks to manipulate her. So equalibrium is restored- At least for now. Go and stay which leaves Illyana in an abstract, discombobulating state of hesitancy- Perfectly natural in Illyana's life. So what then? What must happen next, where that enforced indifference and empathic shield has been raised to protect herself. The calculation takes over, but what of the shadows?
The shadows escape, shriveling back - probably naturally. Probably not *actually* wriggling and writhing from the light, and *definitely* not hissing. It's just really easy to imagine the hissing. And the shadows are gone. The anxiety and pressures are gone. The desires to go outside - all gone. Everything is fine, and good, and Illyana is able to rest. Good thing that strangeness is over and done with, time to enjoy the dawn.
The apartment, this safe place that she's claimed as her home, is quiet. The aquarium tank gurgles quietly. The plants chatter and talk to each other... but they speak in plant, which is too quiet for even supernaturals to hear. The books are booking, and in the kitchen, the fridge is making a low, audible hum. As they do, easily regulated to background for most. The sun wakes, and the gray clouds in the sky float slowly.
Everything is quiet, and peaceful.
Everything is safe.
What a wonderful da-
There it is, there's the interruption! There's the buzzing of their phone, the breaker of suspense. It's... a spam text. Vetr is probably selling Illyana's data, or maybe it was wherever she used her card last. Maybe the service was just choosing from a list of numbers. Regardless, it's so boring that it's almost easy to ignore the next text, which is from an unlisted number. It reads: Please help me. I saw your light, and I'm sorry but I looked up your number. I'm outside, I need your help. Just to find something I lost... I'm afraid.
How dare the plants not speak audibly. That's criminal, but at least things are qui-- Fuck. And the light is removed. That's not for anyone else. That's for Illyana. It's Illyana's own. But Illyana has no way of verifying who sent the text, or knowing why they are afraid. So what to do- What to do? Well first, the light goes. But Illyana has enhanced vision, so she goes to the fire escape and looks out. Passing through the living room- Quiet. Through the kitchen- Quiet save the sound of the appliances humming away. But hmm. What is this. If someone is watching, it's not as innocent as it would appear. And if they can look up a number in such a short time they have more connections than they let on. Illyana knows research time. She knows personal protection and data, and how one requires a team or an adept skill in hacking, so there is one choice; Illyana opens the fire escape, steps out and... drops into the street. This person has questions to answer and Illyana wants answers. She owns homeless people who live on the fire escape for just such an eventuality and they've clearly not done their jobs. So with the kind of leap only an angelborn can make with ease- At least so early in the supernatural evolution of awakening, and an equally gentle landing, Illyana exits and locks her apartment. And what might she see? Who is this person and what will their responce be when Illyana's approach is supernaturally fast and not telegraphed until she's found a likely candidate.
The woman falls falls over, right onto her ass, as Illyana leaps down to her. Her phone clatters on the ground at her feet, the screen lighting up yellow... It's the Yellow Pages app. It has a list of addresses and known numbs on them. The phone, in its bedazzled phone case, is now, sadly, cracked. So is, just slightly, the ground under Illyana's feet.
The woman seems fairly influential - she's wearing a nice matching skirt and top, easily worth hundreds, made with delicate fabric. Her heels - one now snapped - are latex shiny, looking practically new. She has a warm light brown, mixed skin tone, with parted pink lips and wide hazel eyes, focused on Illyana.
"Why, you... you really *are* a superhero! Th-then, this should be easy! My family heirloom, the amethyst locket... I saw something in the mist at my grandfather's grave... I ran too quickly, and I... well." She blinks, then gasps with a gloved hand, working her way up into a presentable seated position. She dusts herself off, before continuing in her polished voice. "My name is Margeret Key-Hale, though I go by Maggie. I... you're the one they call Glory, hero? Or... heroine?"
"There's no such thing as a superhero so don't try to butter me up." Illyana flatly tells the woman. Her arms are folded, though she's not bothered even removing her sunglasses. Dressed herself in a jacket, cowboy boots and street clothes, she looks down from her imposing five foot and six inches- Masterfully, though thanks only to the fact this thing is on its ass right now. "There's the answer to my first question." Illyana tells Maggie, pointing at the phone. "So firstly, knock on the door. I'm sick and tired of people being mysterious." Grimacing, Illyana sniffs- It might be contemptuous, but more than that, there's a scenting of the air. Accute sense of smell at work for anything that scents as unusual. At the same time she listens, accute hearing at work for anything else that shouldn't be as she perceptively looks Maggie over. Then, because she cant help herself, Illyana rejoins her own monologue; "The idea of heroics is a dream. It's a contextualized ideology invented by the masses to explain away that which they cant explain with sudoscience. It's propaganda and rumourmill nonsense, so no. There's none of that. And anything you've heard about me- Good or bad is likely not true, so get ideas of tights and flights out of your head." Waiting for the woman to stand, Illyana waits, allowing the moment to grow pregnant with awkwardness before speaking again. "Your amethyst locket. If you think I'll do anything about that you have questions to answer first. No one leaves jewellery at grave markers. It's horror movie nonsense that you're playing on so maybe /explain exactly why I should help you with no lies or omitions and without obscuration/. I'll know if you're not telling me the truth." And of course, that last is delivered with full eye contact, the weight of pressure from a hypnotic instruction behind it.
Illyana can smell... not fear, for one. Or perfume, on a woman dressed so nicely. She smells leather - like new shoes. She can hear the scratching of paper against skin and cloth, and calm breathing. And she sees... the woman's face fall, about partway though the monologue the expression just dropping. There's the beginning of "I don't get paid enough...." before she is caught, the instruction in her ears and out her mouth. "The artifact is in that graveyard, guarded by an undead protector. Once we have it in our hands, the ritual can begin."
Illyana snorts. Of course it's something to do with a ritual. And of course there's an undead guardian. That look, too. I don't get payed enough; A clear sign that this woman is not entirely truthful. So she layers another compulsion. One more subtle and hidden within plane wording. Less overt. Less obvious. More insidious. "I /need to know who you work for/ before I can help you." she tells Maggie, arms still crossed, tone still casual. Clearly, Illyana has had enough of mystery, lies and intrigue, and has no intention of becoming embroiled in cultists rituals. It doesn't matter who it is- Golden Shadow, BlackFlame, Sapphire Martyrs- It has to be one of those, and Illyana is getting answers, because as things stand, she's likely already decided what this course of action is. Her stance shifts slightly- imperceptably, her feet shoulder width apart and she's ready for /something/.
Maggie rolls her eyes, her personality still in there as she says honestly, "I work for the Black Flame. Or... maybe I won't... we've tried so many fucking things to get you to do it... I feel like just telling them I failed, and take that trip with Erica that I planned. Also, did you know that they picked me because they saw a couple of girls living with you, and they went, 'Oh, Sara, you're a lesbo, right? Go play innocent and seduce this angleborn to fulfill our desires'. Like, who the fuck straight up says that?" She wants for a bit, as easily as if Illyana was her best friend, and they are in a busy starbucks. Such is the power of a good pressure.
Nodding as Maggie explains this, there's a gesture behind her back; Illyana has summoned her muscle, a hulking, startlingly clean homeless guy, who lumbers up behind Illyana in a Dave Convenience uniform. At the same time, Illyana reaches out with angelborn speed and strength to snap the woman's neck. This isn't happening and Illyana is done being nice. Was there a more subtle way of dealing with this? Yes. Is Illyana too enraged to think of that? Yes. But living here, and with who else lives here, Illyana knows that it's hand controlled. There are no CC TV cameras that Nikolai doesn't control the feed of, and Illyana has her own team. So as she steps back, she lets the homeless guy, Bob deal with the corpse. Calling in the happening, Illyana provides all of the information, leaving the dispozal to her muscle. The phone is picked up, crushed and pocketed, and with no evidence, Illyana gets on with her life, one cultist down.
And so, the day is saved... *from* the Black Flame. Funny, why hasn't anyone else thought of just killing all of them to fix the problem? The world may never know... just as no one will ever know what happened to Sara/Maggie, as the Hand makes sure nothing happened. Nothing ever happened. Illyana gets a mild nod of respect from a few agents over the next day or two, but they're probably newer agents, and even they forget after a few days. In the end... this is just Haven, as it is every single day.
(Your target and their allies have been given a tip by a trusted source that a meeting of The Sapphire Martyrs is taking place at a secluded location in Haven. The group has been tasked to infiltrate the meeting, gather intelligence on their plans, and if possible, sabotage their efforts. However, they must tread lightly. The Martyrs are known for their ruthlessness and won't hesitate to kill anyone who stands in their way. The encounter will involve stealth, strategy, and possibly combat, depending on the actions of the players. They may find themselves up against powerful members of The Sapphire Martyrs, who are ready to die for their cause. Will their mission be successful? Or will they fall into a trap? Only time will tell.)
Nico strolls on into the diner, settling himself down next to the counter and ordering a quick cup of coffee. For all the weirdness that may be going on, there's something in the little things like that first cup of coffee in the morning.
It is a sunday morning in Haven township; The weekend has been a crawl for the mundane, but for the supernatural, the world has pervasively crept ever closer, the shadows clawing, the nights lumbering, haunted things that invite those things that should, in any reasoning world be considered fiction- The monsters under the bed, the creatures in the night, the red eyes in the darkness. But this is Haven. The gate is here, and the supernatural lingers, like the ever fluctuating mists to trouble and beguile all that loiters within the phobotic miasma that is life for those awakened to the /true/ world. Even here, where Nico finds himself within Mister Ash Starling's establishment for relaxation, consumption and libation, Nico is not left to his own devices. In Rosie's Diner upon Hart Avenue, where the atmos is always the 1950s, and cholesterol is a thing for the future, there is mystery a foot! The waitresses wiz around for the mid day rush, their dresses brightly colored and the music is of course Elvis. The scents and sounds of a sunday lunch time are all around Nico, the grilling meat, the chocolate and fizz of the shakes, the frying tatertots and onion rings. The flash-snap-hiss of the char grill and the conversational buzz of many innocent people relaxing- Enjoying their meals and their lazy sunday afternoons. someone someone So as Nico sits- One among many and his coffee is delivered by a waitress behind the counter, he is in for a treat. The first coffee- Fragrant and thick is ideal and its dark nectarous flavour- Bitter, crisp and nutty starts to wake him. He is, at least for now, at peace, and it seems as though nothing could break his reverie. And that then might be what strikes Nico as the most odd.... This is Haven, after all. So why are things so peaceful? Why are they- someone someone Then Nico sees it. Nico recognizes one-- No, he recognizes three of the figures sitting at a booth. He knows them from that encounter just under a week back, where he found himself embroiled with the crazies with the glowing knife. These people too are wearing those blue- No, sapphire shirts, the legend 'Jesus died for your sins' emblazened across their shoulders. But how? Wern't they all dealt with in the church basement? They were all caught-and-or sacrificed? The geist-light of the phantom crimson glow that bombarded Nico, even through the doors. Surely there cant be any left, can there? It seems impossible. It must be impossible, right? And how exactly could it be that Nico is the one who finds himself neck deep in this exact situation again? someone someone But this might be an opportunity... Nico knows about them. They don't know about Nico. Perhapse he could get some answers? Perhapse he could listen into their conversation? Maybe there's a way to get to the bottom of why they seem to be so active in Haven and/or find a way to keep clear of them for good. someone someone So then... What can Nico do?
It is a sunday morning in Haven township; The weekend has been a crawl for the mundane, but for the supernatural, the world has pervasively crept ever closer, the shadows clawing, the nights lumbering, haunted things that invite those things that should, in any reasoning world be considered fiction- The monsters under the bed, the creatures in the night, the red eyes in the darkness. But this is Haven. The gate is here, and the supernatural lingers, like the ever fluctuating mists to trouble and beguile all that loiters within the phobotic miasma that is life for those awakened to the /true/ world. Even here, where Nico finds himself within Mister Ash Starling's establishment for relaxation, consumption and libation, Nico is not left to his own devices. In Rosie's Diner upon Hart Avenue, where the atmos is always the 1950s, and cholesterol is a thing for the future, there is mystery a foot! The waitresses wiz around for the mid day rush, their dresses brightly colored and the music is of course Elvis. The scents and sounds of a sunday lunch time are all around Nico, the grilling meat, the chocolate and fizz of the shakes, the frying tatertots and onion rings. The flash-snap-hiss of the char grill and the conversational buzz of many innocent people relaxing- Enjoying their meals and their lazy sunday afternoons. -- So as Nico sits- One among many and his coffee is delivered by a waitress behind the counter, he is in for a treat. The first coffee- Fragrant and thick is ideal and its dark nectarous flavour- Bitter, crisp and nutty starts to wake him. He is, at least for now, at peace, and it seems as though nothing could break his reverie. And that then might be what strikes Nico as the most odd.... This is Haven, after all. So why are things so peaceful? Why are they- Then Nico sees it. Nico recognizes one-- No, he recognizes three of the figures sitting at a booth. He knows them from that encounter just under a week back, where he found himself embroiled with the crazies with the glowing knife. These people too are wearing those blue- No, sapphire shirts, the legend 'Jesus died for your sins' emblazened across their shoulders. But how? Wern't they all dealt with in the church basement? They were all caught-and-or sacrificed? The geist-light of the phantom crimson glow that bombarded Nico, even through the doors. Surely there cant be any left, can there? It seems impossible. It must be impossible, right? And how exactly could it be that Nico is the one who finds himself neck deep in this exact situation again? -- But this might be an opportunity... Nico knows about them. They don't know about Nico. Perhapse he could get some answers? Perhapse he could listen into their conversation? Maybe there's a way to get to the bottom of why they seem to be so active in Haven and/or find a way to keep clear of them for good. -- So then... What can Nico do?
Nico wonders, at that. What *can* he do? He could run, as he did then. He could listen in, passively, diving for more information. Or... It's been a long few days, for Nico. A lot of learning, for him. Sure, maybe set back by a mental flashbang from someone he had trusted, but that all loops around. He's made new friends, in that time, who (at least in theory) would help him out if he got into a jam. Could he call them? Maybe... But for now, he sips his coffee. Who's to notice if he slides forward a little bit, ears perked up to try and listen in on the cultists.
The diner is loud- Of course it is, and the music is blaring, just at that point between quaint and obnoxious. But that's the case for all diners of this ilk; They are theme places, and that's perhapse why the cultists in sapphire have chosen here. Nico watches as the waitress by their table takes their orders and they laugh and chat between each other. He sips his coffee as the waitress behind the counter rings in order after order, and Nico is asked if he would like to order anything else himself. So this then may be the first time that Nico hears it- The first time he hears one of them say the name 'Sapphire Martyrs'. He may not know exactly what that is, but he is at least afforded some insight- And of course, a name that Nico may choose to research at a later date, should he wish. The place is a hum of activity, and people come and go. They weave in and out of each other, the throng heaving and wild- Oh-so-alive in that way of the american small town, where apparently everyone knows everyone else. Indeed, even as Nico watches on, he notices two more people joining the group of martyrs- These perhapse more recognizable. One of them is a guy that Nico remembers seeing at Rude Doggs Smoke Shack. He was the one that sold Nico some rollups. And the other is that pretty gal in the dress who saw Nico go to the church last week. But they don't seem to be upto anything. Perhapse this is a casual outing for them as it is Nico Maybe not. Nico notices that one of the group is the same news man who held the knife last week... What was his name? Paul Dobs? Yeah, that was it. -- But he was inside the church when that red light struck, though curiously, he seems none the worse for ware. And likely more fortunate, he has not recognized-- Or doesn't care about seeing Nico. Five of them then, and all potentially within this cult. A cult that is apparently, at least according to one of the group over in that booth, named the Sapphire Martyrs. And then it comes to Nico. He remembers hearing something, but he might not recall from where. The Sapphire Martyrs were crazies who wanted to break the earth away from the other planes- Those mentioned by Ash Starling in their lecture- The Gardrealm, the Wilds, Hell and so on. They were the ones who think that by sacrificing the earth the rest of the universe might survive, right? -- So... A name, and intent, but as Nico listens in, there's not much of note past that. Though they are apparently going to a meeting in the Great News community center on Deadwood Street. That was the homeless shelter, right? They couldn't be planning on something there could they?
Nico presses his lips together tightly. The Community Center? Ironic, that one... Alright. He's outnumbered and under-gunned to do anything about them or their meeting. For now, at least. Still, knowledge is power. Sapphire Martyr's? That's a start, at least. Give it time, and he'll be able to do something about it, maybe cut them off their bullshit entirely. But, for the time being... The coffee is good, the day is young, and there's no need to go and spoil it by getting himself in over his head. For now.
If Nico were with one of the various supernatural groups, he might be tasked with infiltration. If he had friends with him, they may be tasked with infiltration, but as Nico has decided; He is outnumbered, out-gunned and is in no place to do that much more. It may be unfortunate that Nico can do little more right now, but the information can be useful to share with those fully in the know- And then, that is where Nico hears it. Paul Dobs begins to speak. But then their meals are delivered, and the waitress blocks Nico's view. Once she leaves, Nico has half a conversation. The Sapphire Martyrs are intending to meet in the Great News community center in the early hours when the doors are closed for the night. It would appear that the intention of said meeting is to break in, disguising their infiltration as an attack from the Scions of the Inferno. Nico manages to hear that using some ritual or other, the Martyrs will summon Gonthorian, the red dragon eidolon, who's one intention is to burn the world to ash. Empowering and ascending it, they plan to release Gonthorian, enhanced with the lives of everyone in Haven so that the earth can be sacrificed to the dragon in the hopes that by eradicating this world, the others can be saved. -- To Nico, this sounds insane. It would quite literally be playing with fire, not to mention higher powers. So why? What? How? Who could Nico tell? Who does he know who could take advantage of this information in order to stop them?
Nico lets out a soft sigh, shaking his head. Well, fuck. Getting involved? Probably bad. Letting a cult destroy the world? Definitely bad. Lesser of the evils seems to be the word of the day as Nico reaches for his phone, snapping out a quick text to JR. 'Hey, situation. Culty shit, bad times had by all. They're meeting at the community center, tonight.'
As Nico sends his text, there is no signal. JR is likely off world- Though it does send and there is a responce; Intercepted or his phone was hacked, there is a text returned. No number, Lack of ID entirely. The words are block capital, stamped as though inevitable. "Understood. Do nothing. This will be taken care of." -- So Nico avoids an encounter, and shortly after, the group leave. The guy from Rude Doggs, the girl, Paul Dobbs, and two more people that Nico recognizes in passing. One Nico has seen working in the Black Rose book store. The other he saw at the college during Ash's lecture. And still, does this run deeper? It must, but it is seemingly being taken care of. The Sapphire Martyrs pay their bill, they leave and they don't notice Nico. And when Nico checks the news the day after, he finds that there was a meeting of delinquents broken up. Rumour has it that this group, discontent with the Great News community center had planned to burn it to the ground. The reasoning? Apparently it was a group from the Order- Who ever they are- Who upon finding out the answers to mass thieving originated in the center decided to take their revenge with pipe bombs molotov cocktails and other incendiaries. Fortunately, the Haven police were also able to break up a meeting of cultists who were defacing Great News, apparently trying to summon some fire god who had intended to burn the world to ash. But more than that was swiftly covered up and with gusto. -- Nico never does find where the text came from however. There is no further interaction, though he sees no other members of the Sapphire Martyrs... That is save for one. Minding his business, Nico stumbles across one man, one of the christians who escaped the Webstor clinic. He was raving about the world needing to end to protect the universe. But thanks to intervention from the orderlies, this slight problem is resolved, leaving Nico with more questions than he originally had, and with one toe further into that nightmarish realm of day and night, where with the gloaming, the dark beings of the night start to awaken, stalking the world of Haven once again.
The mysterious shadows plaguing Illyana's apartment, though possibly imagined, retreat under her determined effort to dispel them, allowing her a momentary respite. However, peace is short-lived as she receives an urgent text pleading for help from someone who had apparently observed her light from outside and sought her assistance. Driven by a mix of skepticism and the need to confront whatever awaits, Illyana steps outside, prepared to face the unknown. The ensuing encounter with Margeret "Maggie" Key-Hale swiftly escalates as Illyana uncovers the true nature of the request – a retrieval mission for a powerful artifact guarded by the undead, set against the backdrop of the Black Flame's cultist activities. The situation quickly resolves with Illyana's decisive actions, leaving no loose ends and reaffirming her control over her domain and the broader, shadowy maneuvers at play within Haven. Through sharp intuition and supernatural prowess, she neutralizes the immediate threat, a sobering reminder of the constant vigilance required in a world teeming with clandestine dangers and the blurred lines between ally and adversary.
(Illyana's odd encounter(SRAsh):SRAsh)
[Sun Oct 6 2024]
In a Cozy Living Room
The walls of this room shifts in shades, from the blue of the entryway shifting to teal to the kitchen in the east, swinging to a vibrant green after coming back in, dipping into the book nook, before turning teal and blue more rapidly on the western wall, so that it fades perfectly into the blue of that doorway.
The walls of this room shifts in shades, from the blue of the entryway shifting to teal to the kitchen in the east, swinging to a vibrant green after coming back in, dipping into the book nook, before turning teal and blue more rapidly on the western wall, so that it The booknook to the south counterpoints directly to the TV setup on the north end, with its modern console and hidden wiring. The couch, black leather, sits against the western wall, with an ottoman against the southern wall perfect for whoever is in the corner to put their feet on. In the western half of the center of the room, in easy reach of the couch, is an old, round wooden table, where anyone can place their food and drinks.perfectly into the blue of that doorway.
Soft plush carpeting round off the room, cut off sharply at the eastern end by the kitchen's linoleum, no wall between the two areas. This allows those in the kitchen to watch the TV, or easily speak to those lounging in the living room.
It is dawn, about 41F(5C) degrees, and the sky is partly covered by dark grey clouds.
(A member of The Black Flame, disguised as a simple townsfolk, approaches your target for assistance. They claim to have lost a valuable family heirloom in the local graveyard and are too frightened to retrieve it. Unbeknownst to your target, the heirloom is a powerful artifact used in the cult's rituals. This encounter will force your target to unravel the truth behind the heirloom and the cult member's real intentions.)
Having dealt with the early, sunday morning business of arranging for the builders to continue generating the improvements to the Vetr-Mart store at fourty five paine avenue within Haven Township, Illyana began to travel home when a frenchman with too much time on his hands and a deterministic outlook on Temple politics drew her into the deep nightmare. Frustrated with this very fact, Illyana used that time where the french decided to monologue about things not being so simple, to shadowwalk away, wherebye she decided to report the encounter to the Hand, returning home to spend the rest of the day in the protection of a nightmare warded safe space.
In the blue-green fade of the living room, safety proves an ill-conceptualized idea. Is it safe? Can it truly *be* safe? In haven? Such intrusive thoughts are common in this town, but certainly far, far more so for someone. After the kidapping in the past, waking in the woods to find smash doors and the smell of wolf in the house, it's a reminder that this place won't ever be the bunker in the woods.
In the blue-green fade of the living room, safety proves an ill-conceptualized idea. Is it safe? Can it truly *be* safe? In haven? Such intrusive thoughts are common in this town, but certainly far, far more so for Illyana. After the kidapping in the past, waking in the woods to find smash doors and the smell of wolf in the house, it's a reminder that this place won't ever be the bunker in the woods.
No, this apartment isn't safe at all... the shadows on the wall are too long, too deep, too dark for this dawn already breaking through. They seem to move, undulating, reaching for Illyana. *Especially* from the east, as if the sun couldn't possibly find purchase on these slippery shadows.@line
Someone must have cast a ritual in here while she was out. Someone must have summoned something. Someone broke in, and let something loose. Someone might still be in here, looking for Illyana, waiting.... Maybe for her to blink. Maybe for her to lower her guard. Maybe to wait for the shadows to reach her. Maybe they're just playing with her, watching her every move for the exact right moment.
You want to go outside. You want to leave this place. You want to be out in the open, where no ambushes lie in wait for you to think that you might be allowed to enjoy your own home. The angelborn tango begins, the want and desires, none foreign, because they all simply must be her own. And there's no one else here for them to be... right? Illyana is all alone in here. Surely. So, she must want to go outside... right?
The shadows aren't reaching from the west, at least. That way is clear.
The desire to go outside is indeed strong; Pervasive, clawing and the shadows, though deep have an answer. Two, in fact, as with the angelborn, there is also demon- And that aspect of Illyana which is demon makes its own demands. The demand that this is Illyana's home. This is Illyana's safe space. Even here in Haven, a nightmare protected zone offers more protection than outside where predators are. And that then draws back to the angel, as Illyana simply cant see herself as a predator in her own right. Wrong, of course, Illyana is a monster, but even still. So angel and demon war, and Illyana remains suspicious. So then what must the outcome be? The shadows are easy to deal with for now. Illyana can simply thrust them back. If they are magical that is a different matter, but at least she will know either way. And so she calls upon that power from within- The light and the fire. She draws it from deep within, her skin beginning to radiate with a soft incandescence that thrusts back the dark space between night and day, where the shadows grow long... Or at least, this is the intention. If successful or not is to be seen, but the demon refuses to relinquish its hold on what it sees as its domain, even as the angel shrinks back, desiring nothing more to yield to that compulsion. That then is but one answer to this. And Illyana has two. The second then. What could it possibly be? Is it equally as supernatural as the light that bathes her home? Is it some other ability that makes itself known? Is it a supernatural fortitude- or some curious mystery of her hybrid nature? Yes and no. For angel and demon war, so when Illyana's mind is filled with a need to leave, there is an equally powerful desire to deny that which seeks to manipulate her. So equalibrium is restored- At least for now. Go and stay which leaves Illyana in an abstract, discombobulating state of hesitancy- Perfectly natural in Illyana's life. So what then? What must happen next, where that enforced indifference and empathic shield has been raised to protect herself. The calculation takes over, but what of the shadows?
The shadows escape, shriveling back - probably naturally. Probably not *actually* wriggling and writhing from the light, and *definitely* not hissing. It's just really easy to imagine the hissing. And the shadows are gone. The anxiety and pressures are gone. The desires to go outside - all gone. Everything is fine, and good, and Illyana is able to rest. Good thing that strangeness is over and done with, time to enjoy the dawn.
The apartment, this safe place that she's claimed as her home, is quiet. The aquarium tank gurgles quietly. The plants chatter and talk to each other... but they speak in plant, which is too quiet for even supernaturals to hear. The books are booking, and in the kitchen, the fridge is making a low, audible hum. As they do, easily regulated to background for most. The sun wakes, and the gray clouds in the sky float slowly.
Everything is quiet, and peaceful.
Everything is safe.
What a wonderful da-
There it is, there's the interruption! There's the buzzing of their phone, the breaker of suspense. It's... a spam text. Vetr is probably selling Illyana's data, or maybe it was wherever she used her card last. Maybe the service was just choosing from a list of numbers. Regardless, it's so boring that it's almost easy to ignore the next text, which is from an unlisted number. It reads: Please help me. I saw your light, and I'm sorry but I looked up your number. I'm outside, I need your help. Just to find something I lost... I'm afraid.
How dare the plants not speak audibly. That's criminal, but at least things are qui-- Fuck. And the light is removed. That's not for anyone else. That's for Illyana. It's Illyana's own. But Illyana has no way of verifying who sent the text, or knowing why they are afraid. So what to do- What to do? Well first, the light goes. But Illyana has enhanced vision, so she goes to the fire escape and looks out. Passing through the living room- Quiet. Through the kitchen- Quiet save the sound of the appliances humming away. But hmm. What is this. If someone is watching, it's not as innocent as it would appear. And if they can look up a number in such a short time they have more connections than they let on. Illyana knows research time. She knows personal protection and data, and how one requires a team or an adept skill in hacking, so there is one choice; Illyana opens the fire escape, steps out and... drops into the street. This person has questions to answer and Illyana wants answers. She owns homeless people who live on the fire escape for just such an eventuality and they've clearly not done their jobs. So with the kind of leap only an angelborn can make with ease- At least so early in the supernatural evolution of awakening, and an equally gentle landing, Illyana exits and locks her apartment. And what might she see? Who is this person and what will their responce be when Illyana's approach is supernaturally fast and not telegraphed until she's found a likely candidate.
The woman falls falls over, right onto her ass, as Illyana leaps down to her. Her phone clatters on the ground at her feet, the screen lighting up yellow... It's the Yellow Pages app. It has a list of addresses and known numbs on them. The phone, in its bedazzled phone case, is now, sadly, cracked. So is, just slightly, the ground under Illyana's feet.
The woman seems fairly influential - she's wearing a nice matching skirt and top, easily worth hundreds, made with delicate fabric. Her heels - one now snapped - are latex shiny, looking practically new. She has a warm light brown, mixed skin tone, with parted pink lips and wide hazel eyes, focused on Illyana.
"Why, you... you really *are* a superhero! Th-then, this should be easy! My family heirloom, the amethyst locket... I saw something in the mist at my grandfather's grave... I ran too quickly, and I... well." She blinks, then gasps with a gloved hand, working her way up into a presentable seated position. She dusts herself off, before continuing in her polished voice. "My name is Margeret Key-Hale, though I go by Maggie. I... you're the one they call Glory, hero? Or... heroine?"
"There's no such thing as a superhero so don't try to butter me up." Illyana flatly tells the woman. Her arms are folded, though she's not bothered even removing her sunglasses. Dressed herself in a jacket, cowboy boots and street clothes, she looks down from her imposing five foot and six inches- Masterfully, though thanks only to the fact this thing is on its ass right now. "There's the answer to my first question." Illyana tells Maggie, pointing at the phone. "So firstly, knock on the door. I'm sick and tired of people being mysterious." Grimacing, Illyana sniffs- It might be contemptuous, but more than that, there's a scenting of the air. Accute sense of smell at work for anything that scents as unusual. At the same time she listens, accute hearing at work for anything else that shouldn't be as she perceptively looks Maggie over. Then, because she cant help herself, Illyana rejoins her own monologue; "The idea of heroics is a dream. It's a contextualized ideology invented by the masses to explain away that which they cant explain with sudoscience. It's propaganda and rumourmill nonsense, so no. There's none of that. And anything you've heard about me- Good or bad is likely not true, so get ideas of tights and flights out of your head." Waiting for the woman to stand, Illyana waits, allowing the moment to grow pregnant with awkwardness before speaking again. "Your amethyst locket. If you think I'll do anything about that you have questions to answer first. No one leaves jewellery at grave markers. It's horror movie nonsense that you're playing on so maybe /explain exactly why I should help you with no lies or omitions and without obscuration/. I'll know if you're not telling me the truth." And of course, that last is delivered with full eye contact, the weight of pressure from a hypnotic instruction behind it.
Illyana can smell... not fear, for one. Or perfume, on a woman dressed so nicely. She smells leather - like new shoes. She can hear the scratching of paper against skin and cloth, and calm breathing. And she sees... the woman's face fall, about partway though the monologue the expression just dropping. There's the beginning of "I don't get paid enough...." before she is caught, the instruction in her ears and out her mouth. "The artifact is in that graveyard, guarded by an undead protector. Once we have it in our hands, the ritual can begin."
Illyana snorts. Of course it's something to do with a ritual. And of course there's an undead guardian. That look, too. I don't get payed enough; A clear sign that this woman is not entirely truthful. So she layers another compulsion. One more subtle and hidden within plane wording. Less overt. Less obvious. More insidious. "I /need to know who you work for/ before I can help you." she tells Maggie, arms still crossed, tone still casual. Clearly, Illyana has had enough of mystery, lies and intrigue, and has no intention of becoming embroiled in cultists rituals. It doesn't matter who it is- Golden Shadow, BlackFlame, Sapphire Martyrs- It has to be one of those, and Illyana is getting answers, because as things stand, she's likely already decided what this course of action is. Her stance shifts slightly- imperceptably, her feet shoulder width apart and she's ready for /something/.
Maggie rolls her eyes, her personality still in there as she says honestly, "I work for the Black Flame. Or... maybe I won't... we've tried so many fucking things to get you to do it... I feel like just telling them I failed, and take that trip with Erica that I planned. Also, did you know that they picked me because they saw a couple of girls living with you, and they went, 'Oh, Sara, you're a lesbo, right? Go play innocent and seduce this angleborn to fulfill our desires'. Like, who the fuck straight up says that?" She wants for a bit, as easily as if Illyana was her best friend, and they are in a busy starbucks. Such is the power of a good pressure.
Nodding as Maggie explains this, there's a gesture behind her back; Illyana has summoned her muscle, a hulking, startlingly clean homeless guy, who lumbers up behind Illyana in a Dave Convenience uniform. At the same time, Illyana reaches out with angelborn speed and strength to snap the woman's neck. This isn't happening and Illyana is done being nice. Was there a more subtle way of dealing with this? Yes. Is Illyana too enraged to think of that? Yes. But living here, and with who else lives here, Illyana knows that it's hand controlled. There are no CC TV cameras that Nikolai doesn't control the feed of, and Illyana has her own team. So as she steps back, she lets the homeless guy, Bob deal with the corpse. Calling in the happening, Illyana provides all of the information, leaving the dispozal to her muscle. The phone is picked up, crushed and pocketed, and with no evidence, Illyana gets on with her life, one cultist down.
And so, the day is saved... *from* the Black Flame. Funny, why hasn't anyone else thought of just killing all of them to fix the problem? The world may never know... just as no one will ever know what happened to Sara/Maggie, as the Hand makes sure nothing happened. Nothing ever happened. Illyana gets a mild nod of respect from a few agents over the next day or two, but they're probably newer agents, and even they forget after a few days. In the end... this is just Haven, as it is every single day.
(Your target and their allies have been given a tip by a trusted source that a meeting of The Sapphire Martyrs is taking place at a secluded location in Haven. The group has been tasked to infiltrate the meeting, gather intelligence on their plans, and if possible, sabotage their efforts. However, they must tread lightly. The Martyrs are known for their ruthlessness and won't hesitate to kill anyone who stands in their way. The encounter will involve stealth, strategy, and possibly combat, depending on the actions of the players. They may find themselves up against powerful members of The Sapphire Martyrs, who are ready to die for their cause. Will their mission be successful? Or will they fall into a trap? Only time will tell.)
Nico strolls on into the diner, settling himself down next to the counter and ordering a quick cup of coffee. For all the weirdness that may be going on, there's something in the little things like that first cup of coffee in the morning.
It is a sunday morning in Haven township; The weekend has been a crawl for the mundane, but for the supernatural, the world has pervasively crept ever closer, the shadows clawing, the nights lumbering, haunted things that invite those things that should, in any reasoning world be considered fiction- The monsters under the bed, the creatures in the night, the red eyes in the darkness. But this is Haven. The gate is here, and the supernatural lingers, like the ever fluctuating mists to trouble and beguile all that loiters within the phobotic miasma that is life for those awakened to the /true/ world. Even here, where Nico finds himself within Mister Ash Starling's establishment for relaxation, consumption and libation, Nico is not left to his own devices. In Rosie's Diner upon Hart Avenue, where the atmos is always the 1950s, and cholesterol is a thing for the future, there is mystery a foot! The waitresses wiz around for the mid day rush, their dresses brightly colored and the music is of course Elvis. The scents and sounds of a sunday lunch time are all around Nico, the grilling meat, the chocolate and fizz of the shakes, the frying tatertots and onion rings. The flash-snap-hiss of the char grill and the conversational buzz of many innocent people relaxing- Enjoying their meals and their lazy sunday afternoons. someone someone So as Nico sits- One among many and his coffee is delivered by a waitress behind the counter, he is in for a treat. The first coffee- Fragrant and thick is ideal and its dark nectarous flavour- Bitter, crisp and nutty starts to wake him. He is, at least for now, at peace, and it seems as though nothing could break his reverie. And that then might be what strikes Nico as the most odd.... This is Haven, after all. So why are things so peaceful? Why are they- someone someone Then Nico sees it. Nico recognizes one-- No, he recognizes three of the figures sitting at a booth. He knows them from that encounter just under a week back, where he found himself embroiled with the crazies with the glowing knife. These people too are wearing those blue- No, sapphire shirts, the legend 'Jesus died for your sins' emblazened across their shoulders. But how? Wern't they all dealt with in the church basement? They were all caught-and-or sacrificed? The geist-light of the phantom crimson glow that bombarded Nico, even through the doors. Surely there cant be any left, can there? It seems impossible. It must be impossible, right? And how exactly could it be that Nico is the one who finds himself neck deep in this exact situation again? someone someone But this might be an opportunity... Nico knows about them. They don't know about Nico. Perhapse he could get some answers? Perhapse he could listen into their conversation? Maybe there's a way to get to the bottom of why they seem to be so active in Haven and/or find a way to keep clear of them for good. someone someone So then... What can Nico do?
It is a sunday morning in Haven township; The weekend has been a crawl for the mundane, but for the supernatural, the world has pervasively crept ever closer, the shadows clawing, the nights lumbering, haunted things that invite those things that should, in any reasoning world be considered fiction- The monsters under the bed, the creatures in the night, the red eyes in the darkness. But this is Haven. The gate is here, and the supernatural lingers, like the ever fluctuating mists to trouble and beguile all that loiters within the phobotic miasma that is life for those awakened to the /true/ world. Even here, where Nico finds himself within Mister Ash Starling's establishment for relaxation, consumption and libation, Nico is not left to his own devices. In Rosie's Diner upon Hart Avenue, where the atmos is always the 1950s, and cholesterol is a thing for the future, there is mystery a foot! The waitresses wiz around for the mid day rush, their dresses brightly colored and the music is of course Elvis. The scents and sounds of a sunday lunch time are all around Nico, the grilling meat, the chocolate and fizz of the shakes, the frying tatertots and onion rings. The flash-snap-hiss of the char grill and the conversational buzz of many innocent people relaxing- Enjoying their meals and their lazy sunday afternoons. -- So as Nico sits- One among many and his coffee is delivered by a waitress behind the counter, he is in for a treat. The first coffee- Fragrant and thick is ideal and its dark nectarous flavour- Bitter, crisp and nutty starts to wake him. He is, at least for now, at peace, and it seems as though nothing could break his reverie. And that then might be what strikes Nico as the most odd.... This is Haven, after all. So why are things so peaceful? Why are they- Then Nico sees it. Nico recognizes one-- No, he recognizes three of the figures sitting at a booth. He knows them from that encounter just under a week back, where he found himself embroiled with the crazies with the glowing knife. These people too are wearing those blue- No, sapphire shirts, the legend 'Jesus died for your sins' emblazened across their shoulders. But how? Wern't they all dealt with in the church basement? They were all caught-and-or sacrificed? The geist-light of the phantom crimson glow that bombarded Nico, even through the doors. Surely there cant be any left, can there? It seems impossible. It must be impossible, right? And how exactly could it be that Nico is the one who finds himself neck deep in this exact situation again? -- But this might be an opportunity... Nico knows about them. They don't know about Nico. Perhapse he could get some answers? Perhapse he could listen into their conversation? Maybe there's a way to get to the bottom of why they seem to be so active in Haven and/or find a way to keep clear of them for good. -- So then... What can Nico do?
Nico wonders, at that. What *can* he do? He could run, as he did then. He could listen in, passively, diving for more information. Or... It's been a long few days, for Nico. A lot of learning, for him. Sure, maybe set back by a mental flashbang from someone he had trusted, but that all loops around. He's made new friends, in that time, who (at least in theory) would help him out if he got into a jam. Could he call them? Maybe... But for now, he sips his coffee. Who's to notice if he slides forward a little bit, ears perked up to try and listen in on the cultists.
The diner is loud- Of course it is, and the music is blaring, just at that point between quaint and obnoxious. But that's the case for all diners of this ilk; They are theme places, and that's perhapse why the cultists in sapphire have chosen here. Nico watches as the waitress by their table takes their orders and they laugh and chat between each other. He sips his coffee as the waitress behind the counter rings in order after order, and Nico is asked if he would like to order anything else himself. So this then may be the first time that Nico hears it- The first time he hears one of them say the name 'Sapphire Martyrs'. He may not know exactly what that is, but he is at least afforded some insight- And of course, a name that Nico may choose to research at a later date, should he wish. The place is a hum of activity, and people come and go. They weave in and out of each other, the throng heaving and wild- Oh-so-alive in that way of the american small town, where apparently everyone knows everyone else. Indeed, even as Nico watches on, he notices two more people joining the group of martyrs- These perhapse more recognizable. One of them is a guy that Nico remembers seeing at Rude Doggs Smoke Shack. He was the one that sold Nico some rollups. And the other is that pretty gal in the dress who saw Nico go to the church last week. But they don't seem to be upto anything. Perhapse this is a casual outing for them as it is Nico Maybe not. Nico notices that one of the group is the same news man who held the knife last week... What was his name? Paul Dobs? Yeah, that was it. -- But he was inside the church when that red light struck, though curiously, he seems none the worse for ware. And likely more fortunate, he has not recognized-- Or doesn't care about seeing Nico. Five of them then, and all potentially within this cult. A cult that is apparently, at least according to one of the group over in that booth, named the Sapphire Martyrs. And then it comes to Nico. He remembers hearing something, but he might not recall from where. The Sapphire Martyrs were crazies who wanted to break the earth away from the other planes- Those mentioned by Ash Starling in their lecture- The Gardrealm, the Wilds, Hell and so on. They were the ones who think that by sacrificing the earth the rest of the universe might survive, right? -- So... A name, and intent, but as Nico listens in, there's not much of note past that. Though they are apparently going to a meeting in the Great News community center on Deadwood Street. That was the homeless shelter, right? They couldn't be planning on something there could they?
Nico presses his lips together tightly. The Community Center? Ironic, that one... Alright. He's outnumbered and under-gunned to do anything about them or their meeting. For now, at least. Still, knowledge is power. Sapphire Martyr's? That's a start, at least. Give it time, and he'll be able to do something about it, maybe cut them off their bullshit entirely. But, for the time being... The coffee is good, the day is young, and there's no need to go and spoil it by getting himself in over his head. For now.
If Nico were with one of the various supernatural groups, he might be tasked with infiltration. If he had friends with him, they may be tasked with infiltration, but as Nico has decided; He is outnumbered, out-gunned and is in no place to do that much more. It may be unfortunate that Nico can do little more right now, but the information can be useful to share with those fully in the know- And then, that is where Nico hears it. Paul Dobs begins to speak. But then their meals are delivered, and the waitress blocks Nico's view. Once she leaves, Nico has half a conversation. The Sapphire Martyrs are intending to meet in the Great News community center in the early hours when the doors are closed for the night. It would appear that the intention of said meeting is to break in, disguising their infiltration as an attack from the Scions of the Inferno. Nico manages to hear that using some ritual or other, the Martyrs will summon Gonthorian, the red dragon eidolon, who's one intention is to burn the world to ash. Empowering and ascending it, they plan to release Gonthorian, enhanced with the lives of everyone in Haven so that the earth can be sacrificed to the dragon in the hopes that by eradicating this world, the others can be saved. -- To Nico, this sounds insane. It would quite literally be playing with fire, not to mention higher powers. So why? What? How? Who could Nico tell? Who does he know who could take advantage of this information in order to stop them?
Nico lets out a soft sigh, shaking his head. Well, fuck. Getting involved? Probably bad. Letting a cult destroy the world? Definitely bad. Lesser of the evils seems to be the word of the day as Nico reaches for his phone, snapping out a quick text to JR. 'Hey, situation. Culty shit, bad times had by all. They're meeting at the community center, tonight.'
As Nico sends his text, there is no signal. JR is likely off world- Though it does send and there is a responce; Intercepted or his phone was hacked, there is a text returned. No number, Lack of ID entirely. The words are block capital, stamped as though inevitable. "Understood. Do nothing. This will be taken care of." -- So Nico avoids an encounter, and shortly after, the group leave. The guy from Rude Doggs, the girl, Paul Dobbs, and two more people that Nico recognizes in passing. One Nico has seen working in the Black Rose book store. The other he saw at the college during Ash's lecture. And still, does this run deeper? It must, but it is seemingly being taken care of. The Sapphire Martyrs pay their bill, they leave and they don't notice Nico. And when Nico checks the news the day after, he finds that there was a meeting of delinquents broken up. Rumour has it that this group, discontent with the Great News community center had planned to burn it to the ground. The reasoning? Apparently it was a group from the Order- Who ever they are- Who upon finding out the answers to mass thieving originated in the center decided to take their revenge with pipe bombs molotov cocktails and other incendiaries. Fortunately, the Haven police were also able to break up a meeting of cultists who were defacing Great News, apparently trying to summon some fire god who had intended to burn the world to ash. But more than that was swiftly covered up and with gusto. -- Nico never does find where the text came from however. There is no further interaction, though he sees no other members of the Sapphire Martyrs... That is save for one. Minding his business, Nico stumbles across one man, one of the christians who escaped the Webstor clinic. He was raving about the world needing to end to protect the universe. But thanks to intervention from the orderlies, this slight problem is resolved, leaving Nico with more questions than he originally had, and with one toe further into that nightmarish realm of day and night, where with the gloaming, the dark beings of the night start to awaken, stalking the world of Haven once again.