[Wharil Choc]
There were, in general, two reasons people came to Chinatown: Business and Pleasure. Depending on your luck the two might mix. Depending on how good you were, no one would possibly be able to tell which was on your platter that day.
Chicago had seen colder nights, and colder still when the wind cut through the streets. But even those couldn't stop the city's population from churning along. A mere -2 degrees would hardly stop them now. Chinatown, if anything, is even more active. there's all the more reason for the vendors to be out making sure their produced looked its freshest. All the more demand for hot, spicy food prepared from steaming food carts or sidewalk stalls. And all the more need for the women to be out prowling in their tallest heals and their shortest skirts, promising a warm night, or half hour, depending on the price.
Somewhere around here, a man in a black wool coat with black gloves, a man few would even notice much less remember, stands by a noodle cart. Occasionally he checks his watch. Mostly, he just waits.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Meanwhile, a man in a dirty brown trench coat was trudging along the main street, throwing the occasional glance at the dark alleys along the way to make sure nothing foul was waiting for him. He'd just returned from an extended 'business' trip, it'd taken him a few months but he was much richer for it though it was never the money for him, it was the feeling of accomplishment and the chance to learn something new along the way. Tonight, he headed for a local restaurant he'd heard was quite good, nothing helped with the hellish cold like some good Chinese.
[Ashley McGowen]
Winters in Boston are hardly mild, but something about Chicago's makes her want to run back to the east coast anyway. It's probably the wind, which, at present temperature, is apt to make one feel as though her lips, nose and ears are being gnawed off by a particularly vicious and persistent toy chihuahua. That, and its public transportation systems are nowhere near as well put together.
Winding her way through the carts and sidling around the short skirts is a small figure nearly swallowed up by a black wool peacoat, short dark hair mercilessly touseled by the wind. Driven by what one would expect - hunger, though this variety seems to be for a book vendor right -next- to a pair of noodle carts than whatever the vendor is selling himself. Antiquated books.
She hovers near it and pauses, trying to edge in to a place where the wind doesn't reach.
[Wharil Choc]
Its not long before a black sedan pulls up. Two burly men pile out first, their shoulders barely fitting out of the car door. A moment later they're joined by a smaller, older man. He wears dark eyeglasses, even though the sun has more or less set. One of his hands finds the arm of a burly man, and the three enter a restaurant.
The restaurant is called Happy Family, though the Asian Kanji symbols suggest the true title is something slightly more elaborate. The man and his two associates are known here. They have a table here, far from but facing the front door. Close enough to run to the rear exit. They have a favorite meal here. One that is prepared just to their liking. One that they have with regularity.
Outside the man in the dark coat watches them as they enter. He waits a few more moments and checks his watch again. Perhaps eating inside would be better.
[Nathan Spriggs]
The man in the trench coat stopped for a moment, he surveyed the black sedan and its owners carefully before continuing at a slightly slower pace. Still far off from Happy Family, he was trying not to look unnatural as he continued to make his way towards the restaurant but he put both his hands inside their respective side's rather large pockets, his right searching for the Five-SeveN handgun he usually had on him. It wasn't until a few moments later that he realized it wasn't on him due to having just gotten back from the trip and customs.
The man cursed his luck in a whisper barely audible to himself as he continued to make way, his mind already at work on a plan. He could pretend the mafia-esque men had scared him off but what if they already knew what he was? It'd seem too unnatural to suddenly avoid them if so, he had to be careful, though luckily even without his gun he was still carrying the near-perfect replica of an FBI badge he usually carried as an excuse for carrying a handgun around.
[Ashley McGowen]
A black sedan pulls up.
Instinctively, Ashley smashes her small frame into a space between two wooden bookshelves, reaching out a hand to steady one of them before the dusty titles topple off onto the sidewalk. It's a clumsy job of hiding, but she's no longer visible from the street, which was her intention in the first place. She only relaxes after she peers out around the corner and notices the three men - the mob perhaps - extricating themselves from the car and walking toward the restaurant.
No, chances are those are not the Operatives she chanced to hear about. With an exhale that is a little shakier than she'd like, the Hermetic steps back out into the open. Prepared to let the mobsters go their way until she catches, out of her peripheral vision, a glance at Wharil.
She walks up next to the Euthanatos with a polite cough, a decision she will probably regret later tonight.
[Wharil Choc]
He takes a step toward the doors, and stops suddenly, turning to the sound of the cough as if suddenly spinning on an assassin. But its not. Its only Ashley.
"Oh. Hey Ashley. Listen I uh...I have to go take care of something. Is there...something you wanted?"
[Ashley McGowen]
I'm pretty sure I make that guy nervous, and not in a good way, Ashley had almost mentioned to Kage the other night, when the Orphan came calling at her apartment. Considered it and then had dropped the subject. It's easy to see how she'd get the impression: Wharil, spinning around, making excuses and intending to run off.
"Hey, Wharil," she replies, straightening and eying him for a moment. Because the excuses, at least, are not typical behavior. "Is everything okay? Or..." And here she glances over her shoulder toward the Happy Family, putting two and two together. She probably shouldn't offer. "Do you need help with anything?"
[Wharil Choc]
"Help? Help with what?"
Smooth, Mister Choc. Real Smooth.
Meanwhile the black sedan drove off, leaving its previous occupants there until some other time. Perhaps they were planning on staying for a while. Or, perhaps they simply didn't want to advertise their presence any more than they needed to. Wharil isn't smiling his usual charming 'everything's okay' smile. He's glaring, in fact. Looking at the Black Sedan as it goes by.
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley just raises an eyebrow at him and tilts her head toward the sedan, toward the restaurant. "Those. Just seems like there's a few and it'd be easy to get in over your head."
The Hermetic tucks her hands away in her pockets, as though she offers to help friends kill other people every day (which she doesn't.) And isn't even sure if she is right now. "I could at least pull you out fast if things got out of hand."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Continuing his journey towards the restaurant, Nathan's eyes followed the sedan momentarily as it left, at least there wasn't any backup in case things got hairy. Now that he was nearing the entrance, only about 20 feet away now, his hands were shaking slightly as he headed for the door. Nathan was used to dealing with people as well as doing things that would be bad for him if he got caught and usually didn't get nervous, but this was a totally different situation and on his first day back at that. If this was how things were gonna go from here, he prayed to whatever God existed for some mercy.
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil's lips pressed into a line the way it did when he was unhappy with what he'd previously said, or with what he was about to say.
"I don't know what you're talking about." He says, and checks his watch again.
"You hungry? Lets get some dumplings."
And turns on his heels heading for the Happy Family.
The inside is your usual Asian Restaurant fare. There's a small counter at the Entry way where a woman waits, sharply dressed and hair styled high on her head. As Nathan enters he's greeted with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes, and a faltering English Phrase: "Party of One?"
[Ashley McGowen]
The other day, Ashley ran into Rene on the street, after the unsettlingly beautiful woman had been out hunting - and only in speaking with her did she realize that she was not actually that comfortable with the concept of Awakened hit men. Prior to, she had never really given it that much thought. Some of that discomfort and confusion is evident as she glances sidelong at the restaurant, then back to Wharil.
"...Yeah, sure. Lead on." And she follows him in.
[Nathan Spriggs]
"Yes please." Nathan spoke with a level voice that made it nearly impossible to tell his hands were still shaking inside of his pockets, he'd always been very good at hiding his emotions even at the worst of times, he had to be. "Also, if you don't mind, I'd like a window seat." Nathan accompanied his request with a smile that meshed perfectly with his already attractive features.
[Wharil Choc]
The woman smiles nods and turns to head for the dining area proper now, expecting Nathan to follow. The dining tables are many and spaced evently apart. The ones near the window are decorated most elaborately. Made that way to make the place seem more inviting from the outside.
In a far corner the old man sits with the two men, obvious body guards, flanking on either side. The two large men eat greedily from deep bowls of noodles. The old man only sits there. His shades are folded on the table. He glances around with eyes that seem to be completely white from a distance.
When Wharil and Ashley enter, there's no one there to greet them. Wharil takes the moment to take up one of the menus on his own, and leafs through it as he speaks.
"So, what are you doing around here? Just out for a stroll?"
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan followed the woman silently, his eyes casually scanning the area around him for the three men, when he got to his table he sat in an angle that hid him from them a bit and proceeded to wait for a waiter.
[Ashley McGowen]
"Yeah," she tells him, leaning back in the seat and opening up her own menu. His shaking leg appears to be contagious, right at this moment in time; her own is bouncing up and down occasionally. She's removed her jacket; beneath it she's wearing a black T-shirt (advertising a Boston pub) over a black and silver buttondown shirt.
"I wander down here a lot when I get bored. My father's a Fist and once in a while I can find some text he'd actually be interested in."
[Wharil Choc]
"A fist? What's that exactly?" Wharil asks. Albeit he was obviously distracted. He seems to have found what he was looking for, however, and places the Menu back where he'd found it.
"A waitress will be by shortly to take your order." The greeter says and heads back to find Wharil and Ashley waiting. She gives him them the same smile, and similar inquiry.
"Party of two? Right this way."
[Ashley McGowen]
"An Akashic Brother," Ashley says, her tone quiet as she explains this - she'd hoped the nickname would be self-explanatory, but then again Wharil is obviously distracted. She, too, tucks the menu away after making a decision and follows the hostess and Wharil back.
She glances sidelong toward the men, suspecting that Wharil will fill her in. But it seems slightly outside the bounds of subtlety to have to ask, so she decides to keep her mouth shut.
[Wharil Choc]
"You're shitting me!" Is Wharil's immediate reaction. One that gets him a bit of a glare from the greeter, which he blanches at. The two are seated at a table near the kitchen, possibly as a punishment. Wharil however, doesn't seem to complain.
****
There's a bit of a grumble from the corner and the greeter pauses, turning to the three Asian men. The two larger gentlemen pause in their eating and turn to Nathan. The old man mumbles weekly, his sightless eyes dancing blankly at this angle and then that.
The greeter nods, as if interpreting the mumbling, and heads over to Nathan's window table. "Mister Fung asks if you would join him." She says to Nathan. "This is a great honor. He is a very important man in our community."
****
At their table, Wharil glances over toward the table where the three Asian men sat. He nods slightly with his head towards them, and leans in to whisper to Ashley.
"Hey, how old do you suppose that guy is?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Wharil's reaction gets a glare from the greeter and a grin from his shorter Hermetic companion. "Yeah. Vajrapani," she says, sliding into the seat across from him. It's noisy close to the kitchen, but she simply sits with her left side toward it - ironically, it helps her hear him a little better.
He draws her attention, momentarily, toward the man who has just been asked to sit with the mobsters. Ashley squints at the elderly man, tugging a bit at the short hair on the back of her neck. "I'm not sure. Fifty-five, sixty or so? Why?"
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan looked momentarily discomforted by the request, but his face quickly changed to eliminate any trace of unease he definitely had. "In that case, tell Mr. Fung that I'll gladly accept his offer," he spoke with the same level tone as when he'd addressed her before, though at this rate even he couldn't mask the unease he was feeling. It took him a moment of hesitation before he got up from his chair, walking at a steady but careful pace towards the three men as he surveyed what he could of the restaurant from the corner of his eye.
"I'm grateful for your invitation, to what do I owe the pleasure?" His question was spoken in a tone that didn't betray any suspicion, or so he hoped.
[Wharil Choc]
The greeter walked Nathan over to the other table, pulling out a fourth chair as he sits. Soon a waitress follows and sets a fourth set of plates and cups for Nathan.
All the while the old man mumbles. His voice sounds fractured and scarred, and his sightless eyes dance around the perimeter of his form. At once, as if extensions of his mind, the large man on the left speaks for him.
"Master Fung says, he can no longer see the physical world. He was robbed of that gift many years ago."
And then the one on the left fills in where he left off.
"But still, he can see that which is unseen. He sees the energy of your spirit."
"Master Fung finds you very intriguing. He has met a handful of others with similar spirits."
"He has enjoyed conversations with these men. He would enjoy conversation with you, Mr..."
"Master Fung apologizes. He does not know your name."
****
Wharil shakes his head at Ashley's response. "Multiply that by three. That's Yam Ko Fung. He's sort of been running things around here for...well...centuries. Looks good for his age, doesn't he?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley eyes the old man, suddenly fascinated. "He does. So what has he been doing?" Her eyes flicker for a few moments, as though she is trying to figure out exactly how he's doing this, what he would need to do. Academic interest, of course - there's no spark of envy - merely the sort of interest one has in carnivorous plants, for example, as a child.
As Nathan walks over to seat himself, though, Ashley catches Wharil's eyes and then nods toward the table.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
"You can call me Nathan, and the pleasure's all mine." Nathan finished speaking and took his seat without another word, staring intently at Mr. Fung, trying to read his expressions, or maybe lack thereof. He was trying to see if he could feel a vibe or something of the like coming from him, he'd felt this kind of thing before around other Awakened he'd met.
[Wharil Choc]
One of the first things one learns upon entering the world of the awakened was how to recognize others of the same fraternity. This man, this Master Fung, was not one of those. He was, however, very old. Nathan could feel it in the creak of his own bones. The ache of his own muscles. The sluggish way that the liquid seemed to crawl through his paper thin veins. That power wasn't his, however. It was something borrowed.
The two men seemed eager to get back to their meal, but the old man, who didn't look as old as he felt, wouldn't stop mumbling. Which meant they couldn't stop translating.
"Master Fung asks if you would like some Tea." Says one.
"Master Fung asks How old you are." Says the other.
****
Wharil only shrugs. He's not looking in the direction the the old man's table anymore. He's looking down at the table instead.
"Dunno. Rene had a tussle with a guy named Jonas Blackheart some time last year. He was twice as old as Fung. Supposedly the two were associates. Black arts. That kinda thing. Rumor has Fung has a special place where he keeps those who've crossed him, until he can--"
Wharil's gaze wandered back over to the table as Ashley nodded over, and he too watched perplexed as Nathan sat down.
"What the...Who the hell is that guy?"
[Ashley McGowen]
"I don't know," Ashley says, watching the other table out of the corner of her eye, but trying to keep most of her attention on Wharil. Both to be polite, and so it's not as evident that she's watching Fung. That she's staring. It's rather difficult for her, though, what with the limited field of vision.
"Someone he's meeting with, maybe. Or...maybe things like this are how he's accomplishing what he does?" She scratches the back of her neck, frowning. "Wish we were close enough to hear what they were saying, I speak fluent Mandarin. Can't catch more than a couple of words though."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan's insides untangled a bit as the comforting thought that this man was not a Technocrat in all likelihood washed over him. Feeling much less nervous, Nathan sat up straight and studied Mr. Fung's appearance, this was his first time meeting someone like this so he'd gather as much information as he could. "I would love some tea, Mr. Fung. As for my age, I'm 29, which I'm sure makes me look like a child in comparison to someone with your experience." Nathan spoke carefully, making sure to measure his words, he'd tried to word it so that Mr. Fung would understand he knew he wasn't as young as he appeared but so that he didn't offend him by calling him an old man either.
[Wharil Choc]
"Master Fung asks: What do you know about his experiences." Asks one burly man. The other pours Nathan a cup of tea. The steam swirls in front of him and for a moment it flickers and swirls around the old man, almost as if reaching out to him. Surely its just a trick of the light.
****
Realizing he'd been watching too closely and for too long Wharil instead turns back down to his napkin. From the depths of his pockets he produces a pen, and on hit he begins to scribble, colouring an elaborate border and filigree.
"Maybe, Ashley. Maybe you can help afterall. I want you to think about...pride. Envy. Jealousy. Y'know, the ugly kind. Hubris. That's the word. Hubris. We're gonna take it, and focus it on...this"
One last flourish of the pen and Wharil folds the napkin before she can see it, pushing it forward to the centre of the table.
"Do you think you can we can pull that off?"
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan had a feeling he might have said something he shouldn't have, so he decided to play it safe for the time being. He didn't miss what happened to the steam, due to being focused on noticing any little details that was off with Mr. Fung, but he put it aside for now. "I know nothing of his experience, but I have no doubt he must have much more than I could possibly imagine."
[Ashley McGowen]
"Yes," she says, looking back over the table at him.
He wants her to think about pride and envy and jealousy. Hubris. And she summons memories forth, times when she had reason to feel that - as much reason as anyone does - so that she can set the emotion alight in herself. Contemplate it. She remembers lying there on Kage's floor, pride stinging like a thousand papercuts, before her consciousness faded out.
She can remember watching Bran and Justine before she left Boston, wondering...and she can remember being eighteen years old, in the darkness of the hospital room, -refusing-...
"Do you want me to project it to them?"
[Wharil Choc]
The old man laughs. Its a frightening, dry, hacking kind of laugh. And when he's caught his breath, he continues in his low, indiscernible speech.
"Master Fung says: If he didn't know any better he would think you were trying to flatter him."
"Please. Drink your tea."
****
"No, no." Wharil says. "On this. Put it all in this." And he pushes the napkin even closer to her.
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley looks down at the napkin in front of her, taking the pen from his hand, and gives another hesitant look to the napkin sitting there between them. "You want me to write down how it feels, or what it makes me want to do, or a memory of when I felt that way...?"
And she opens the napkin, calling forth those memories, the tip of the pen hovering over the fabric as she tries to consider the phrasing, giving a quick look up at him.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan kept his cool through the laughter, he knew better than to act rashly in the position he was in right now. As he sipped his tea quietly, he felt like he was treading a minefield right now, every action, word, even the smallest movements counted at this point. Nathan decided to take a gamble, he'd put his neck on the line on this one, something he didn't do usually, but he also didn't encounter this kind of situation usually either. "I don't mean to sound rude after your gracious welcome, Mr. Fung, but when you called me I'm sure you had your own expectations and wished to do more than simply exchange idle pleasantries. So if it isn't too much to ask for, I wish for us to have a straight forward conversation, you must know what I am and while I'm not so sure, I know you are special as well. What is it you wish of me?"
[Wharil Choc]
For a moment the old man is stil. Quiet. His eyes linger along the edges of Nathan's face. But little by little they stop their divoting dance. They come closer to home. The center of the white Orbs settle on Nathan's eyes. His lips curl up into a smile. And the old man croaks quietly.
The two men look first at their patron, and then slowly turn to their guest.
"Only your--"
"Time. Only your time."
****
"I don't know if you're understanding me, Ashley. I want you to put the emotion itself in that note. Charge it with envy. Tuck pride into the folds. If Fung is just a lonely old man he might not even be bothered by it. If not...well then we'll know."
He glances back over at the Old man's table. At the new stranger. At the two burly men.
"And if there's something wrong with either of his three dinner guests, then we'll know too, won't we?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
Ashley raises her eyebrows, looking at him with sudden understanding. "Ah. All right." And, with a few sweeping gestures, symbols are sketched onto the page: runes, Words.
And she summons forth all of that hubris and pride and anger and envy (hunger) and pours it into the pages as though from a decanter. Expressing them so fully that anyone who opened it would not be able to help but to feel them.
[Manipulation + Expression to communicate the emotions...]
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 3, 9 (Success x 4 at target 3) [WP]
[And Mind 2 + Prime 2 to imbue the note, -2 diff from the Expression roll, -1 for using a focus.]
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan was taken by surprise by that, he should have been expecting it'd be something like this as a wave of dread hit him. He made sure his expression didn't betray any fear, as though he hadn't quite understood the implications, but he was already formulating plans for an escape. "Ah, in that case, excuse me for my rudeness, however would you mind terribly if I play some solitaire as we speak? It's a bad habit of mine at the table," he took out a packet of playing cards from his pocket and placed it on the table as he spoke, looking at the two men from the corner of his eye to make sure they didn't make any sudden movements.
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil watched carefully as Ashley made her additions. All the while his leg shook like mad under the table. She'd barely folded it back up before he grabbed it, clutching it in his palm, and stood from the table.
"Now's probably a good time to leave. No telling how they might react to this."
Without another word, he headed over.
****
The old man grinned still, showing Nathan his grey teeth, and mumbling away.
"If it pleases you, Master Fung will allow it."
"But, he suggests you play a more interesting game. For interesting--"
The translation of the two men is disturbed by a sudden hiss. Fung reels back in his seat, his hands coming up to his face suddenly as if startled. And there, directly behind Nathan, Stands the man in the black coat. Wharil Choc. The two translaters/bodyguards start to get to their feet, and Wharil places one hand up, as if relenting.
"Gentlemen, please! I'm only here to drop off a gift."
And he tosses the napkin over the table. It lands just in front of Nathan's still steaming tea, and the smoke wafts it just so, so that the mess of ink and words faces up to world. Its a chaos of adjectives. A mish-mash of emotions. And at the center of the word-storm is a simple phrase.
~For the Greatest Among you.~
[Nathan Spriggs]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Ashley McGowen]
Wharil suggests that she leave. She, of course, gets up out of her seat and then remains firmly rooted to the spot. Watching as he walks over to the table. She reaches beneath the collar of her shirt and hooks her index finger around the glass link there.
And then the Hermetic waits, eyes trailing Wharil as he drops the "gift" on the table. Taking in the room around them and noting things: whether there are candles. Where the lights are positioned. How many Sleepers there are in here. There's no telling how they might react, so she prepares herself to either attempt to pacify or, if necessary, to get them both out of there.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
Nathan pulled back from the table as fast as he could, just in time too as the two guys suddenly dived for the napkin, colliding against the table with an audible crack as the table gave way. Meanwhile, Nathan who had felt a pull from it knew better than to stick around, something about it was off and he didn't want to be caught in it. That and he had a clear cut chance to escape now, so he got up from his seat, taking the cards and shuffling them relentlessly as he focused on them for comfort and something else, hoping it wouldn't come to it. He tried to sense around the room and see if he could find out where it had come from and what had done it, but meanwhile he was headed for the door at a fast pace, though not quite running yet.
[Nathan Spriggs]
He felt something strange from the atmosphere, but especially the napkin, a relentless feeling of some sort. It felt like magic to him, though he couldn't be sure as he was bolting for the door and couldn't quite focus.
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil Rolled toward Nathan, hands reaching out from among black wool to try and grab the stranger and just missing. He was about to call out to Ashley. About to shout for her to stop him when he heard a hiss from his left, and saw Fung reeling toward him with a knife.
The coat breezed through as the blade whizzed by, just nicking at his chest. Somewhere a button clattered under a far table, and Wharil's normally pristine white shirt turned slowly red. The two guards were still busy trying to dispense with one another, trying to claim the prized napkin before the other. Each, after all, was certain they were the greatest. The Strongest. The best at the table. Each of them completely wrapped in their own pride and jealousy. Each ready to show their might to the other, even if it meant they had to choke the life from their very lungs.
But Fung didn't get to be this old because of his choice in bodyguards alone. The old man croaked and hacked, and slowly turned on Wharil again. And again, Wharil seemed more concerned with the stranger trying to leave.
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 4, 5 (Success x 3 at target 4) [WP]
Wharil calls toward her to try to keep the stranger from leaving. He seemed, to Ash, more likely to be a victim than someone who is actually dangerous to either of them - but it's a good idea to keep him here to ascertain that. Of everyone, he's the unknown figure.
And so, hooking her finger around the copper link instead, she Wills the laws of physics around Nathan's feet to break. His shoes don't generate the friction necessary to keep him moving, his feet won't seize on the ground in the manner necessary to propel him forward and out of their sight. He isn't frozen in place, so he could try - he probably just won't be very successful.
[Forces 2, using a focus and spending WP.]
[Nathan Spriggs]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
((Rolling Awareness first))
[Nathan Spriggs]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 4) [WP]
Nathan had been so preoccupied between his shuffling and escape that he'd continued to try moving even when he'd stopped, not noticing until the moment he was stumbling forward and smashed against the floor, his left forearm and elbow stopping him from going face-first. He looked around for a while, this time he'd noticed something, the same relentless feeling but stronger, a hint of some kind of hunger mixed in with it, he was trying to find out who and where as he tried to get up from his fall. It was then that he noticed Mr. Fung wielding a knife and attacking someone, no doubt was that the man responsible for whatever had happened.
With that in mind, Nathan did his best to clear his mind, focusing solely on the two men fighting, the table had sent the tea flying and spilled all over the floor. In his mind, he was imagining the two men happened to slip over the mess on the floor near them as they weaved in and out in combat, the shuffling cards being his focus to get it across.
[Entropy 2, subtle in accordance to my resonance and using a WP]
[Wharil Choc]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 8)
[Blind man Lunges!]
[Wharil Choc]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Wharil Dodges, split action]
[Wharil Choc]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 10 (Success x 1 at target 8)
[Wharil Beats blind old man with a chair]
[Wharil Choc]
Again Fung recovers. Its unclear how he finds Wharil. His face swings about the room until he homes in on...the smell, perhaps? Or the sound of his frightened heart? Or perhaps he saw him, the same way that he saw Nathan Spriggs.
Before even Wharil has time to puzzle it out, the old man is lunging again. His feet don't carry him as well as they should. He falters and slows on the spilled tea, and though Wharil does the same its enough for him to sidestep just out of the way. And, still slipping himself, he reels suddenly with a chair in hand, and swings the bulk of it against the old man's back.
Even if he were as young as he looked. Even if he were merely a blind fifty year old, that blow would have still sent him sprawling the way that it did. The two guards continue to tussle on the ground. And Wharil, not yet satisfied, lunges for the collapsed baster Fung.
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 4) [WP]
It's chaos. Nathan falls, and so do the two mobsters who were there with Fung. They roll around on the ground, beating each other and getting covered in tea, consumed and overwhelmed with their negative passions.
Wharil picks up a chair and begins to hit the old man with it. The image makes Ashley's mouth quirk into a grin for a moment - it wouldn't, of course, if he weren't a goddamn Nephandus - and then she's lifting up the candle on the table to help the Euthanatos. She waits until Wharil is clear and on the other side, hooks a finger around the gold and copper links, and then she blows on the candle. Out springs a gout of flame, so hot it steals the oxygen from a person's lungs, bright and vibrant with primal energy, jetting toward the old man and hopefully setting alight.
[Prime 2 + Forces 2, using a focus, spending a WP and a Quintessence. Delaying Paradox until the end of the scene.]
[Nathan Spriggs]
People capable of breathing magical fire on others were never good for your health, so Nathan decided that while the two fighters were preoccupied, and since the woman was busy breathing fire like a dragon straight out of Medieval fantasy stories, he'd get the fuck out of Dodge. Unfortunately, attempts to get back on his feet were catastrophic so he decided to crawl his way out in the chaos, keeping low to avoid being seen as he crawled full-force for the door, he didn't feel like becoming tasty human barbecue tonight.
[Wharil Choc]
That was not candle fire. There was no coincidence there. Perhaps she'd been pocketing some kind of flammable liquid in her cheeks. Perhaps she had a jet of gasoline strapped to her chin. Or perhaps...perhaps the dragons had come to Chinatown.
Wharil drew back suddenly as a gout of flam shot by him. He could feel it, tightening his skin to leather, eating at the hair on his arms, on his face. He turns to Ashley, amazed. Frightened.
"Holy SHIT!"
Not even the awakened could believe that one. And while the two men gouged at each others eyes, and while Master Fung squealed and steamed and crackled on the ground, surrounded by black scorch marks and covered in tongues of flame. Wharil pulled himself together, turning to Ashley with that same amazed, fightened look.
"Lets get out of here!" He said as he headed for the door. Both hands came down on Nathan's collar and dragged him up to his feet.
"You're coming with us!"
[Ashley McGowen]
And, yes, they get the hell out of there, leaving the old man screaming and writhing on the ground as the flames devour his flesh. His hair, his human expressions. When Ashley's eyes meet Wharil's they, too, are a little frightened. It's an expression that says that she hadn't expected it to be that effective, and that it was impulsive, propelled by visceral Hunger.
Wharil runs and he seizes Nathan's collar, and Ashley lets the effect on Nathan's feet fall away as she runs after the two of them, ducking her head as though she can hide it from the Paradox that will be coming down.
Moderation, moderation.
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Mmm, backlash.]
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Soak]
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan considered resisting for a moment but then let them carry him away, struggling still to get back on his feet. Back one day and already fire-breathing awakened were dragging him around town, hopefully the fact he wasn't on fire yet meant they were at least willing to have a word before getting violent.
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley staggers for a short, blinding instant, and then straightens again, blinking away the pain of a migraine, clapping a hand over her right ear and continuing on her outward trajectory. But, in spite of that, there's a wide grin on her face that she can't suppress: utter exhileration.
And they dart out onto the street.
[Wharil Choc]
Out into the street, and immediately into a crowd. People were beginning to crowd around the window, watching the two men inside fight still, while their employer writhed in the final throes of a fiery death.
Wharil slipped out easily. The man who he held by the collar sightly less so. Ashley follows out, and the attention of the crowd shifts to her instantly. Someone points. Someone shouts. Wharil, unused to attracting attention, keeps walking, dragging Nathan with him and ducking into an alley.
...Even as a small crowd breaks off, and follows behind them.
"Alright." Wharil says, and he gives Nathan a shove. "Who the hell are you?"
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan had already gotten used to the rough treatment from Wharil so when the shove came, he was already prepared mentally and managed to avoid smashing into a wall too hard. He'd been going over the words to say all of the trip, so at least he wasn't at a lost for words now. "Innocent awakened bystander who unfortunately caught the interest of an ancient apparently soul sucking monster. In short, name's Nathan. What's your name?" Nathan spoke with the same level tone he'd used on the woman at the entrance, shockingly unfazed by the recent happens, or at least that's how he was pretending to be.
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 4) [WP]
People are watching Ashley, pointing. The Hermetic eyes the gathering crowd nervously, unsure of what to do about them; she's never had to try to actively make people -forget- about something that happened before.
Wharil ducks into an alley, and taking cues from him, Ashley follows behind, gripping the iron link and trying to keep her face hidden, trying to imitate Wharil's body language, the way he slides into the alley, the way their attention slides off of him like water off a duck feather. She Wills the crowd to disperse and believe that she's gone. Trying to imitate that blur that Wharil always has about him, for at least a few minutes.
Nathan, she leaves up to Wharil. If she can't get the crowd to go away she might have to meet up with them later anyway.
[Mind 2, using a focus, spending a WP.]
[Wharil Choc]
The crowd comes to the mouth of the alley, peering in for a moment. Their eyes settle on Wharil, Ashley for a moment. On Nathan. They dance over Wharil. Then the move on, continuing to look for the fire-breathing lady.
"Not quite ancient. I'd bet you haven't seen ancient yet. What'd he say to you?" The other question, apparently, was either overlooked or straight out ignored.
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley lets out a soft exhale, letting her shoulders relax as the crowd passes on by. Relieved. She's going to murmur an apology to Wharil but then decides to save it, folding her arms and looking at the young man.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan might be in a very bad position, but he wasn't enough of a coward to just bend over and do everything asked of him. If they didn't play ball and at least introduce themselves, then he figured negotiations had already broken down anyway. "First your name, then I'll answer your questions, I'm not liable to trust someone I just met and saw burn another person to cinders, am I? I'll trust you're not out to kill me or are a techie from your presence and the fact I'm not gone, but that's all I know so far." Nathan spoke in the same tone as before but altered it just enough to let it be known that he meant what he said in no uncertain terms.
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil glares at the man. But the brightness in his dark eyes just won't let him look menacing. He knows this. And relents.
"Fine. Fine, that's...only fair. My name is Wharil Choc. This is my associate."
He nods over to Ashley who, it seems, can give her own name if she chooses.
[Ashley McGowen]
"Ashley McGowen," the Hermetic says. Her breaths are no longer gasping, greedy things that devoured the cool air outside; they've become steadier, easier, as she tucks her hands away in her coat pocket. Her pupils are still dialated with fear and adrenaline and the raw, lively joy that can't help but accompany both, in spite of the gravity of the situation they just ran out of and in spite of the consequences there will probably be for her.
"You next," she tells Nathan, fixing blue eyes on him and shrugging up the collar of her jacket against the wind that creeps down the alley.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan finally betrayed a sign of weakness, even if only a slight one, he took a deep breath to calm himself down before starting his story.
"I arrived back from an extended business trip just tonight, haven't been in the city all that long though I knew a lot of people in it, not awakened mind you. The cold was horrible, still is, and I was in the mood for Chinese so I headed for the restaurant, once inside I had the unfortunate luck of being noticed by that... that thing. He knew what I was and called me over, I didn't know him or what he was but given how he was dressed, I figured he might be a Technocrat and busting into a run wasn't the best way to go. Once over there, he said he'd invited me because he'd met others like me," Nathan paused, taking a deep breath before continuing as he looked back on the events that had just occurred.
"His henchmen's exact translations to what he said was 'Master Fung says, he can no longer see the physical world. He was robbed of that gift many years ago. But still, he can see that which is unseen. He sees the energy of your spirit. Master Fung finds you very intriguing. He has met a handful of others with similar spirits. He has enjoyed conversations with these men. He would enjoy conversation with you."
Nathan stopped his story there, letting them digest what he'd said and understand the implications after what they'd just seen. Luckily, he'd given them the precise words to avoid the confusion of explaining it in his own words, thanks to his photographic memory he remembered precisely what they'd said and how they'd said it.
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil's gaze dropped when Nathan recounted what he was told. Fung had met others like them. Could pick the awakened out in a crowd. But he hadn't noticed Wharil or Ashley until they came closer.
A handful of others. The energy of the spirit. Conversations.
"Conversations. Yeah, I bet. Its just what I thought then."
"Blackheart was a necromancer." He says to Ashley, continuing their previous conversation. "Whatever pacts he ade, he must have extended them to Fung. And Fung found a way to continue them on his own, feeding on others to keep himself young."
His lips tighten again into that uncomfortable line.
"Too bad we can't ask him exactly how he did that, now that he's dead."
[Ashley McGowen]
She listens to Nathan, eyes intent as she puts everything together with what Wharil told her about Fung earlier that evening. And she looks sidelong at the Euthanatos as he begins speaking, nodding once or twice.
Only to clear her throat and glance down at the ground as she sees his mouth form that thin line, well aware of what he's about to say before he says it. Ashley raises a hand to the back of her neck. "Yeah, sorry, I didn't think that was going to kill him. He was coming at you with a knife, so I'd just meant to hurt him and put him down, not..."
[Nathan Spriggs]
"That's why I tried to trip him, sorry if you got caught up," Nathan added in response to Ashley's comment, conveniently keeping the fact he'd tried to trip them both for some mutually assured destruction to himself.
[Wharil Choc]
"...With fire? He's a hundred and fifty year old man, not a...a...thing that you throw fire at."
He sighs, shakes his head, and waves his hand in the air to brush the whole thing away.
"Well...Nathan. You're not dead, and you've got your soul intact. What's your plan now?"
[Ashley McGowen]
"You hit him with a -chair-!" Ashley says.
And then Wharil brushes the matter away so she does too. Even the vaguely guilty, apologetic look fades after a few seconds as she looks back at Nathan, waiting to hear the man's answer.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan thought for a moment before replying to Wharil's question. "I was hoping you could tell me. If this is what's waiting for me, all I can say is I was lucky to run into you two."
[Wharil Choc]
"Lucky. Right. Well, don't know how long you've been on your extended trip, but we've got ourself a situation you have a right to know about. There's a Marauder on the loose, so you might want to keep your guard up. There's also evidence of Nephandi activity all over the city. We're trying to get a handle on it but its...not easy. The awakened in the city are pretty disorganized but we--"
Wharil stops himself, suddenly glancing at Ashley before continuing.
"We're...trying."
[Ashley McGowen]
Wharil stops himself, and Ashley looks back at him and gives him a quick nod. Appreciative, almost. "You'll probably want to keep your guard up and make sure you get in touch with other people around the city," she tells Nathan. "Network and all that. Find allies."
[Nathan Spriggs]
"...Something I should be worrying about asides from Marauders or Nephandi? Sudden pauses and meaningful glances from one person to another never seem to help with uneasy for some reason." He didn't even try to hide the suspicion or annoyance in his tone, if they were going to be suspicious of something, they might as well wait until he was out of earshot and speak behind his back.
[Wharil Choc]
"That depends. When's the last time you ate a baby or sucked out someone's soul?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley folds her arms and watches Nathan as though she is, in fact, taking that question seriously. Who knows, maybe she is.
Then, after a minute, she asks, "Do you have a Tradition?"
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan observed Wharil and Ashley carefully for a moment before answering. "Never to both of your questions, Wharil, and Cult. Though I don't exactly do the whole drug-craze thing we're usually stereotyped for, not really my style."
[Wharil Choc]
"Huh." Wharil says, and his entire posture changes. His face lightens as he glances at Nathan again, as if seeing him for the first time. A moment later he's jutting out a hand to shake.
"Euthanatos. Not many cultists in the city. Not that I'm aware of, at least. The last two were...uh...well..." And that ease and relief in his eyes falls away again as he makes another quick glance to and from Ashley.
"Glad to meet you."
[Ashley McGowen]
"Oh, good. Means I can take you seriously," Ashley says when he says he doesn't fall into Tradition stereotype, leaning her left shoulder in against the wall. Her cheek twitches a bit, a pull of muscles near her nose; she's noticing the headache more now that most of the adrenaline has faded.
"I'm with the Order of Hermes. Nice to meet you, Nathan."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan leaned back against the wall, taking Wharil's hand and looking him in the eyes as he sighs, the fear that he'd felt during the restaurant was finally starting to fade. He could feel his heartbeat slowing down and his hands stop shaking quite as much as before. "An Euthanatos and a Hermes, huh... I won't pry how many of us awakened are in the city since this is our first meeting and that would look suspicious, but man I can't believe I never ran into anyone before."
[Wharil Choc]
"I can. A lot of folks seem to be a little...self serving. Doesn't matter what the rest of the awakened are doing, as long as they're comfortable and safe. That's how we wound up in the situation we're in today.
"All the more reason for us to keep in touch now, don't you think?"
[Ashley McGowen]
"I don't even have numbers on how many people there are. It's a big city. I don't think we've found everyone," Ashley says, before glancing down toward her pocket. After a moment's pause she's delving into it, finding a packet of business cards among pens, receipts, a folded collection of Kafka's short stories, other business cards, and a packet of mint gum. Who knows how she managed to fit it all into her coat pockets.
She pulls one card free and extends it toward Nathan. "Here. My name and phone number, if you need to get in touch with me."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan took Ashley's card and looked at it, making sure to memorize the content before he took a lighter and burned it. "Thanks, don't want it to fall in the wrong hands. I don't carry a cellphone though, or any other way of tracking me down for the most part, but I can tell you where my apartment is. I'll try to keep in touch with you through payphones if I can find any working ones."
((Insert random Bridgeport location there until I can decide a specific spot in it through google))
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil smiles at the whole procedure, and at the continued arms-length mix of trust and mistrust.
"I like you Nathan. You kinda remind me of me."
[Ashley McGowen]
Nathan lights the card she gives him on fire, explaining that he doesn't keep a cell phone and works only through pay phones. The Hermetic's mouth seems like it can't decide whether it wants to smile or hang open, and the incredulous expression that results is somewhere between both.
"...A little paranoid, huh."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan looked at Wharil and smiled, before turning to Ashley with an amused look on his face. "Paranoid. Aware. Po-ta-to. Po-tah-toh. I just like thinking that the extra hardship makes life just that little bit more secure."
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley looks back at him, shrugs, and says, "Hardship usually does that. However you want to live, I guess." She roughs a hand through the shaggy hair on the back of her head, looking sidelong at Nathan. "There's a chantry house, too, and it's almost safe to go back to at present. Soon, hopefully."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Considering the situation from the way she'd spoken, Nathan wondered if the chantry had been compromised at some point, though he decided it was best not to ask for now. He took a moment to consider his words before he spoke again, "Sounds like you've only just started to get organized, any idea on places to avoid by the way?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley's mouth thins as she considers this question. To the Tytalan, 'places to avoid' generally means 'places to go and check out and explore,' really. The woman is not afraid of much, which, of course, has its merits and its drawbacks.
"The supernatural threats around town could pop up anywhere. There's a Technocratic presence that you might want to watch out for, but I don't know where they're headquartered. Other than that...it's pretty much just a city."
[Nathan Spriggs]
After a momentary expression between disappointment and relief, his face reverted to the usual unreadable expression he always had. Nathan had bit back on saying 'Thanks for nothing', she'd been trying to help so the least he could do was be nice to her. "I'll hope that means their presence hasn't been noticed enough to merit investigation on the matter."
[Ashley McGowen]
"They hunted us down," she says, with a sidelong look at Wharil to confirm this, "and wanted us to back off from our investigation into the Nephandi and the Marauder. I don't really intend to honor that request, so if you want to keep your head down, that's all you."
[Nathan Spriggs]
"Normally I wouldn't hesitate to save my own ass, however I have a feeling that if Nephandi and Marauders are running wild, keeping my head down won't keep them off my back for long." Nathan said this with about as much honesty as he could muster on any good day, even being the self-serving prick he usually was.
[Ashley McGowen]
"No, probably not," Ashley agrees, "which is the conclusion most of us have come to." She shuffles the business cards that are still in her hand and stretches the rubber band around them once more. "...That's really about it, though. Just talk to people. Been trying to encourage people to form their own groups and networks and stay organized."
[Nathan Spriggs]
"Thanks for the info, and I'll be in touch soon. Hopefully next time we see each other it won't be in a situation like this one."
[Ashley McGowen]
"Hopefully not," Ashley agrees, raising a hand in a wave as she turns to walk out of the alley. "Call me if you need anything."
She peers out into the street, cautiously, waiting to make sure that there aren't any more people waiting out there for her. And, having ascertained that it is safe, the Hermetic steps out into the night.
There were, in general, two reasons people came to Chinatown: Business and Pleasure. Depending on your luck the two might mix. Depending on how good you were, no one would possibly be able to tell which was on your platter that day.
Chicago had seen colder nights, and colder still when the wind cut through the streets. But even those couldn't stop the city's population from churning along. A mere -2 degrees would hardly stop them now. Chinatown, if anything, is even more active. there's all the more reason for the vendors to be out making sure their produced looked its freshest. All the more demand for hot, spicy food prepared from steaming food carts or sidewalk stalls. And all the more need for the women to be out prowling in their tallest heals and their shortest skirts, promising a warm night, or half hour, depending on the price.
Somewhere around here, a man in a black wool coat with black gloves, a man few would even notice much less remember, stands by a noodle cart. Occasionally he checks his watch. Mostly, he just waits.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Meanwhile, a man in a dirty brown trench coat was trudging along the main street, throwing the occasional glance at the dark alleys along the way to make sure nothing foul was waiting for him. He'd just returned from an extended 'business' trip, it'd taken him a few months but he was much richer for it though it was never the money for him, it was the feeling of accomplishment and the chance to learn something new along the way. Tonight, he headed for a local restaurant he'd heard was quite good, nothing helped with the hellish cold like some good Chinese.
[Ashley McGowen]
Winters in Boston are hardly mild, but something about Chicago's makes her want to run back to the east coast anyway. It's probably the wind, which, at present temperature, is apt to make one feel as though her lips, nose and ears are being gnawed off by a particularly vicious and persistent toy chihuahua. That, and its public transportation systems are nowhere near as well put together.
Winding her way through the carts and sidling around the short skirts is a small figure nearly swallowed up by a black wool peacoat, short dark hair mercilessly touseled by the wind. Driven by what one would expect - hunger, though this variety seems to be for a book vendor right -next- to a pair of noodle carts than whatever the vendor is selling himself. Antiquated books.
She hovers near it and pauses, trying to edge in to a place where the wind doesn't reach.
[Wharil Choc]
Its not long before a black sedan pulls up. Two burly men pile out first, their shoulders barely fitting out of the car door. A moment later they're joined by a smaller, older man. He wears dark eyeglasses, even though the sun has more or less set. One of his hands finds the arm of a burly man, and the three enter a restaurant.
The restaurant is called Happy Family, though the Asian Kanji symbols suggest the true title is something slightly more elaborate. The man and his two associates are known here. They have a table here, far from but facing the front door. Close enough to run to the rear exit. They have a favorite meal here. One that is prepared just to their liking. One that they have with regularity.
Outside the man in the dark coat watches them as they enter. He waits a few more moments and checks his watch again. Perhaps eating inside would be better.
[Nathan Spriggs]
The man in the trench coat stopped for a moment, he surveyed the black sedan and its owners carefully before continuing at a slightly slower pace. Still far off from Happy Family, he was trying not to look unnatural as he continued to make his way towards the restaurant but he put both his hands inside their respective side's rather large pockets, his right searching for the Five-SeveN handgun he usually had on him. It wasn't until a few moments later that he realized it wasn't on him due to having just gotten back from the trip and customs.
The man cursed his luck in a whisper barely audible to himself as he continued to make way, his mind already at work on a plan. He could pretend the mafia-esque men had scared him off but what if they already knew what he was? It'd seem too unnatural to suddenly avoid them if so, he had to be careful, though luckily even without his gun he was still carrying the near-perfect replica of an FBI badge he usually carried as an excuse for carrying a handgun around.
[Ashley McGowen]
A black sedan pulls up.
Instinctively, Ashley smashes her small frame into a space between two wooden bookshelves, reaching out a hand to steady one of them before the dusty titles topple off onto the sidewalk. It's a clumsy job of hiding, but she's no longer visible from the street, which was her intention in the first place. She only relaxes after she peers out around the corner and notices the three men - the mob perhaps - extricating themselves from the car and walking toward the restaurant.
No, chances are those are not the Operatives she chanced to hear about. With an exhale that is a little shakier than she'd like, the Hermetic steps back out into the open. Prepared to let the mobsters go their way until she catches, out of her peripheral vision, a glance at Wharil.
She walks up next to the Euthanatos with a polite cough, a decision she will probably regret later tonight.
[Wharil Choc]
He takes a step toward the doors, and stops suddenly, turning to the sound of the cough as if suddenly spinning on an assassin. But its not. Its only Ashley.
"Oh. Hey Ashley. Listen I uh...I have to go take care of something. Is there...something you wanted?"
[Ashley McGowen]
I'm pretty sure I make that guy nervous, and not in a good way, Ashley had almost mentioned to Kage the other night, when the Orphan came calling at her apartment. Considered it and then had dropped the subject. It's easy to see how she'd get the impression: Wharil, spinning around, making excuses and intending to run off.
"Hey, Wharil," she replies, straightening and eying him for a moment. Because the excuses, at least, are not typical behavior. "Is everything okay? Or..." And here she glances over her shoulder toward the Happy Family, putting two and two together. She probably shouldn't offer. "Do you need help with anything?"
[Wharil Choc]
"Help? Help with what?"
Smooth, Mister Choc. Real Smooth.
Meanwhile the black sedan drove off, leaving its previous occupants there until some other time. Perhaps they were planning on staying for a while. Or, perhaps they simply didn't want to advertise their presence any more than they needed to. Wharil isn't smiling his usual charming 'everything's okay' smile. He's glaring, in fact. Looking at the Black Sedan as it goes by.
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley just raises an eyebrow at him and tilts her head toward the sedan, toward the restaurant. "Those. Just seems like there's a few and it'd be easy to get in over your head."
The Hermetic tucks her hands away in her pockets, as though she offers to help friends kill other people every day (which she doesn't.) And isn't even sure if she is right now. "I could at least pull you out fast if things got out of hand."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Continuing his journey towards the restaurant, Nathan's eyes followed the sedan momentarily as it left, at least there wasn't any backup in case things got hairy. Now that he was nearing the entrance, only about 20 feet away now, his hands were shaking slightly as he headed for the door. Nathan was used to dealing with people as well as doing things that would be bad for him if he got caught and usually didn't get nervous, but this was a totally different situation and on his first day back at that. If this was how things were gonna go from here, he prayed to whatever God existed for some mercy.
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil's lips pressed into a line the way it did when he was unhappy with what he'd previously said, or with what he was about to say.
"I don't know what you're talking about." He says, and checks his watch again.
"You hungry? Lets get some dumplings."
And turns on his heels heading for the Happy Family.
The inside is your usual Asian Restaurant fare. There's a small counter at the Entry way where a woman waits, sharply dressed and hair styled high on her head. As Nathan enters he's greeted with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes, and a faltering English Phrase: "Party of One?"
[Ashley McGowen]
The other day, Ashley ran into Rene on the street, after the unsettlingly beautiful woman had been out hunting - and only in speaking with her did she realize that she was not actually that comfortable with the concept of Awakened hit men. Prior to, she had never really given it that much thought. Some of that discomfort and confusion is evident as she glances sidelong at the restaurant, then back to Wharil.
"...Yeah, sure. Lead on." And she follows him in.
[Nathan Spriggs]
"Yes please." Nathan spoke with a level voice that made it nearly impossible to tell his hands were still shaking inside of his pockets, he'd always been very good at hiding his emotions even at the worst of times, he had to be. "Also, if you don't mind, I'd like a window seat." Nathan accompanied his request with a smile that meshed perfectly with his already attractive features.
[Wharil Choc]
The woman smiles nods and turns to head for the dining area proper now, expecting Nathan to follow. The dining tables are many and spaced evently apart. The ones near the window are decorated most elaborately. Made that way to make the place seem more inviting from the outside.
In a far corner the old man sits with the two men, obvious body guards, flanking on either side. The two large men eat greedily from deep bowls of noodles. The old man only sits there. His shades are folded on the table. He glances around with eyes that seem to be completely white from a distance.
When Wharil and Ashley enter, there's no one there to greet them. Wharil takes the moment to take up one of the menus on his own, and leafs through it as he speaks.
"So, what are you doing around here? Just out for a stroll?"
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan followed the woman silently, his eyes casually scanning the area around him for the three men, when he got to his table he sat in an angle that hid him from them a bit and proceeded to wait for a waiter.
[Ashley McGowen]
"Yeah," she tells him, leaning back in the seat and opening up her own menu. His shaking leg appears to be contagious, right at this moment in time; her own is bouncing up and down occasionally. She's removed her jacket; beneath it she's wearing a black T-shirt (advertising a Boston pub) over a black and silver buttondown shirt.
"I wander down here a lot when I get bored. My father's a Fist and once in a while I can find some text he'd actually be interested in."
[Wharil Choc]
"A fist? What's that exactly?" Wharil asks. Albeit he was obviously distracted. He seems to have found what he was looking for, however, and places the Menu back where he'd found it.
"A waitress will be by shortly to take your order." The greeter says and heads back to find Wharil and Ashley waiting. She gives him them the same smile, and similar inquiry.
"Party of two? Right this way."
[Ashley McGowen]
"An Akashic Brother," Ashley says, her tone quiet as she explains this - she'd hoped the nickname would be self-explanatory, but then again Wharil is obviously distracted. She, too, tucks the menu away after making a decision and follows the hostess and Wharil back.
She glances sidelong toward the men, suspecting that Wharil will fill her in. But it seems slightly outside the bounds of subtlety to have to ask, so she decides to keep her mouth shut.
[Wharil Choc]
"You're shitting me!" Is Wharil's immediate reaction. One that gets him a bit of a glare from the greeter, which he blanches at. The two are seated at a table near the kitchen, possibly as a punishment. Wharil however, doesn't seem to complain.
****
There's a bit of a grumble from the corner and the greeter pauses, turning to the three Asian men. The two larger gentlemen pause in their eating and turn to Nathan. The old man mumbles weekly, his sightless eyes dancing blankly at this angle and then that.
The greeter nods, as if interpreting the mumbling, and heads over to Nathan's window table. "Mister Fung asks if you would join him." She says to Nathan. "This is a great honor. He is a very important man in our community."
****
At their table, Wharil glances over toward the table where the three Asian men sat. He nods slightly with his head towards them, and leans in to whisper to Ashley.
"Hey, how old do you suppose that guy is?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Wharil's reaction gets a glare from the greeter and a grin from his shorter Hermetic companion. "Yeah. Vajrapani," she says, sliding into the seat across from him. It's noisy close to the kitchen, but she simply sits with her left side toward it - ironically, it helps her hear him a little better.
He draws her attention, momentarily, toward the man who has just been asked to sit with the mobsters. Ashley squints at the elderly man, tugging a bit at the short hair on the back of her neck. "I'm not sure. Fifty-five, sixty or so? Why?"
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan looked momentarily discomforted by the request, but his face quickly changed to eliminate any trace of unease he definitely had. "In that case, tell Mr. Fung that I'll gladly accept his offer," he spoke with the same level tone as when he'd addressed her before, though at this rate even he couldn't mask the unease he was feeling. It took him a moment of hesitation before he got up from his chair, walking at a steady but careful pace towards the three men as he surveyed what he could of the restaurant from the corner of his eye.
"I'm grateful for your invitation, to what do I owe the pleasure?" His question was spoken in a tone that didn't betray any suspicion, or so he hoped.
[Wharil Choc]
The greeter walked Nathan over to the other table, pulling out a fourth chair as he sits. Soon a waitress follows and sets a fourth set of plates and cups for Nathan.
All the while the old man mumbles. His voice sounds fractured and scarred, and his sightless eyes dance around the perimeter of his form. At once, as if extensions of his mind, the large man on the left speaks for him.
"Master Fung says, he can no longer see the physical world. He was robbed of that gift many years ago."
And then the one on the left fills in where he left off.
"But still, he can see that which is unseen. He sees the energy of your spirit."
"Master Fung finds you very intriguing. He has met a handful of others with similar spirits."
"He has enjoyed conversations with these men. He would enjoy conversation with you, Mr..."
"Master Fung apologizes. He does not know your name."
****
Wharil shakes his head at Ashley's response. "Multiply that by three. That's Yam Ko Fung. He's sort of been running things around here for...well...centuries. Looks good for his age, doesn't he?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley eyes the old man, suddenly fascinated. "He does. So what has he been doing?" Her eyes flicker for a few moments, as though she is trying to figure out exactly how he's doing this, what he would need to do. Academic interest, of course - there's no spark of envy - merely the sort of interest one has in carnivorous plants, for example, as a child.
As Nathan walks over to seat himself, though, Ashley catches Wharil's eyes and then nods toward the table.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
"You can call me Nathan, and the pleasure's all mine." Nathan finished speaking and took his seat without another word, staring intently at Mr. Fung, trying to read his expressions, or maybe lack thereof. He was trying to see if he could feel a vibe or something of the like coming from him, he'd felt this kind of thing before around other Awakened he'd met.
[Wharil Choc]
One of the first things one learns upon entering the world of the awakened was how to recognize others of the same fraternity. This man, this Master Fung, was not one of those. He was, however, very old. Nathan could feel it in the creak of his own bones. The ache of his own muscles. The sluggish way that the liquid seemed to crawl through his paper thin veins. That power wasn't his, however. It was something borrowed.
The two men seemed eager to get back to their meal, but the old man, who didn't look as old as he felt, wouldn't stop mumbling. Which meant they couldn't stop translating.
"Master Fung asks if you would like some Tea." Says one.
"Master Fung asks How old you are." Says the other.
****
Wharil only shrugs. He's not looking in the direction the the old man's table anymore. He's looking down at the table instead.
"Dunno. Rene had a tussle with a guy named Jonas Blackheart some time last year. He was twice as old as Fung. Supposedly the two were associates. Black arts. That kinda thing. Rumor has Fung has a special place where he keeps those who've crossed him, until he can--"
Wharil's gaze wandered back over to the table as Ashley nodded over, and he too watched perplexed as Nathan sat down.
"What the...Who the hell is that guy?"
[Ashley McGowen]
"I don't know," Ashley says, watching the other table out of the corner of her eye, but trying to keep most of her attention on Wharil. Both to be polite, and so it's not as evident that she's watching Fung. That she's staring. It's rather difficult for her, though, what with the limited field of vision.
"Someone he's meeting with, maybe. Or...maybe things like this are how he's accomplishing what he does?" She scratches the back of her neck, frowning. "Wish we were close enough to hear what they were saying, I speak fluent Mandarin. Can't catch more than a couple of words though."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan's insides untangled a bit as the comforting thought that this man was not a Technocrat in all likelihood washed over him. Feeling much less nervous, Nathan sat up straight and studied Mr. Fung's appearance, this was his first time meeting someone like this so he'd gather as much information as he could. "I would love some tea, Mr. Fung. As for my age, I'm 29, which I'm sure makes me look like a child in comparison to someone with your experience." Nathan spoke carefully, making sure to measure his words, he'd tried to word it so that Mr. Fung would understand he knew he wasn't as young as he appeared but so that he didn't offend him by calling him an old man either.
[Wharil Choc]
"Master Fung asks: What do you know about his experiences." Asks one burly man. The other pours Nathan a cup of tea. The steam swirls in front of him and for a moment it flickers and swirls around the old man, almost as if reaching out to him. Surely its just a trick of the light.
****
Realizing he'd been watching too closely and for too long Wharil instead turns back down to his napkin. From the depths of his pockets he produces a pen, and on hit he begins to scribble, colouring an elaborate border and filigree.
"Maybe, Ashley. Maybe you can help afterall. I want you to think about...pride. Envy. Jealousy. Y'know, the ugly kind. Hubris. That's the word. Hubris. We're gonna take it, and focus it on...this"
One last flourish of the pen and Wharil folds the napkin before she can see it, pushing it forward to the centre of the table.
"Do you think you can we can pull that off?"
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan had a feeling he might have said something he shouldn't have, so he decided to play it safe for the time being. He didn't miss what happened to the steam, due to being focused on noticing any little details that was off with Mr. Fung, but he put it aside for now. "I know nothing of his experience, but I have no doubt he must have much more than I could possibly imagine."
[Ashley McGowen]
"Yes," she says, looking back over the table at him.
He wants her to think about pride and envy and jealousy. Hubris. And she summons memories forth, times when she had reason to feel that - as much reason as anyone does - so that she can set the emotion alight in herself. Contemplate it. She remembers lying there on Kage's floor, pride stinging like a thousand papercuts, before her consciousness faded out.
She can remember watching Bran and Justine before she left Boston, wondering...and she can remember being eighteen years old, in the darkness of the hospital room, -refusing-...
"Do you want me to project it to them?"
[Wharil Choc]
The old man laughs. Its a frightening, dry, hacking kind of laugh. And when he's caught his breath, he continues in his low, indiscernible speech.
"Master Fung says: If he didn't know any better he would think you were trying to flatter him."
"Please. Drink your tea."
****
"No, no." Wharil says. "On this. Put it all in this." And he pushes the napkin even closer to her.
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley looks down at the napkin in front of her, taking the pen from his hand, and gives another hesitant look to the napkin sitting there between them. "You want me to write down how it feels, or what it makes me want to do, or a memory of when I felt that way...?"
And she opens the napkin, calling forth those memories, the tip of the pen hovering over the fabric as she tries to consider the phrasing, giving a quick look up at him.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan kept his cool through the laughter, he knew better than to act rashly in the position he was in right now. As he sipped his tea quietly, he felt like he was treading a minefield right now, every action, word, even the smallest movements counted at this point. Nathan decided to take a gamble, he'd put his neck on the line on this one, something he didn't do usually, but he also didn't encounter this kind of situation usually either. "I don't mean to sound rude after your gracious welcome, Mr. Fung, but when you called me I'm sure you had your own expectations and wished to do more than simply exchange idle pleasantries. So if it isn't too much to ask for, I wish for us to have a straight forward conversation, you must know what I am and while I'm not so sure, I know you are special as well. What is it you wish of me?"
[Wharil Choc]
For a moment the old man is stil. Quiet. His eyes linger along the edges of Nathan's face. But little by little they stop their divoting dance. They come closer to home. The center of the white Orbs settle on Nathan's eyes. His lips curl up into a smile. And the old man croaks quietly.
The two men look first at their patron, and then slowly turn to their guest.
"Only your--"
"Time. Only your time."
****
"I don't know if you're understanding me, Ashley. I want you to put the emotion itself in that note. Charge it with envy. Tuck pride into the folds. If Fung is just a lonely old man he might not even be bothered by it. If not...well then we'll know."
He glances back over at the Old man's table. At the new stranger. At the two burly men.
"And if there's something wrong with either of his three dinner guests, then we'll know too, won't we?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
Ashley raises her eyebrows, looking at him with sudden understanding. "Ah. All right." And, with a few sweeping gestures, symbols are sketched onto the page: runes, Words.
And she summons forth all of that hubris and pride and anger and envy (hunger) and pours it into the pages as though from a decanter. Expressing them so fully that anyone who opened it would not be able to help but to feel them.
[Manipulation + Expression to communicate the emotions...]
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 3, 9 (Success x 4 at target 3) [WP]
[And Mind 2 + Prime 2 to imbue the note, -2 diff from the Expression roll, -1 for using a focus.]
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan was taken by surprise by that, he should have been expecting it'd be something like this as a wave of dread hit him. He made sure his expression didn't betray any fear, as though he hadn't quite understood the implications, but he was already formulating plans for an escape. "Ah, in that case, excuse me for my rudeness, however would you mind terribly if I play some solitaire as we speak? It's a bad habit of mine at the table," he took out a packet of playing cards from his pocket and placed it on the table as he spoke, looking at the two men from the corner of his eye to make sure they didn't make any sudden movements.
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil watched carefully as Ashley made her additions. All the while his leg shook like mad under the table. She'd barely folded it back up before he grabbed it, clutching it in his palm, and stood from the table.
"Now's probably a good time to leave. No telling how they might react to this."
Without another word, he headed over.
****
The old man grinned still, showing Nathan his grey teeth, and mumbling away.
"If it pleases you, Master Fung will allow it."
"But, he suggests you play a more interesting game. For interesting--"
The translation of the two men is disturbed by a sudden hiss. Fung reels back in his seat, his hands coming up to his face suddenly as if startled. And there, directly behind Nathan, Stands the man in the black coat. Wharil Choc. The two translaters/bodyguards start to get to their feet, and Wharil places one hand up, as if relenting.
"Gentlemen, please! I'm only here to drop off a gift."
And he tosses the napkin over the table. It lands just in front of Nathan's still steaming tea, and the smoke wafts it just so, so that the mess of ink and words faces up to world. Its a chaos of adjectives. A mish-mash of emotions. And at the center of the word-storm is a simple phrase.
~For the Greatest Among you.~
[Nathan Spriggs]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Ashley McGowen]
Wharil suggests that she leave. She, of course, gets up out of her seat and then remains firmly rooted to the spot. Watching as he walks over to the table. She reaches beneath the collar of her shirt and hooks her index finger around the glass link there.
And then the Hermetic waits, eyes trailing Wharil as he drops the "gift" on the table. Taking in the room around them and noting things: whether there are candles. Where the lights are positioned. How many Sleepers there are in here. There's no telling how they might react, so she prepares herself to either attempt to pacify or, if necessary, to get them both out of there.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
Nathan pulled back from the table as fast as he could, just in time too as the two guys suddenly dived for the napkin, colliding against the table with an audible crack as the table gave way. Meanwhile, Nathan who had felt a pull from it knew better than to stick around, something about it was off and he didn't want to be caught in it. That and he had a clear cut chance to escape now, so he got up from his seat, taking the cards and shuffling them relentlessly as he focused on them for comfort and something else, hoping it wouldn't come to it. He tried to sense around the room and see if he could find out where it had come from and what had done it, but meanwhile he was headed for the door at a fast pace, though not quite running yet.
[Nathan Spriggs]
He felt something strange from the atmosphere, but especially the napkin, a relentless feeling of some sort. It felt like magic to him, though he couldn't be sure as he was bolting for the door and couldn't quite focus.
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil Rolled toward Nathan, hands reaching out from among black wool to try and grab the stranger and just missing. He was about to call out to Ashley. About to shout for her to stop him when he heard a hiss from his left, and saw Fung reeling toward him with a knife.
The coat breezed through as the blade whizzed by, just nicking at his chest. Somewhere a button clattered under a far table, and Wharil's normally pristine white shirt turned slowly red. The two guards were still busy trying to dispense with one another, trying to claim the prized napkin before the other. Each, after all, was certain they were the greatest. The Strongest. The best at the table. Each of them completely wrapped in their own pride and jealousy. Each ready to show their might to the other, even if it meant they had to choke the life from their very lungs.
But Fung didn't get to be this old because of his choice in bodyguards alone. The old man croaked and hacked, and slowly turned on Wharil again. And again, Wharil seemed more concerned with the stranger trying to leave.
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 4, 5 (Success x 3 at target 4) [WP]
Wharil calls toward her to try to keep the stranger from leaving. He seemed, to Ash, more likely to be a victim than someone who is actually dangerous to either of them - but it's a good idea to keep him here to ascertain that. Of everyone, he's the unknown figure.
And so, hooking her finger around the copper link instead, she Wills the laws of physics around Nathan's feet to break. His shoes don't generate the friction necessary to keep him moving, his feet won't seize on the ground in the manner necessary to propel him forward and out of their sight. He isn't frozen in place, so he could try - he probably just won't be very successful.
[Forces 2, using a focus and spending WP.]
[Nathan Spriggs]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
((Rolling Awareness first))
[Nathan Spriggs]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 4) [WP]
Nathan had been so preoccupied between his shuffling and escape that he'd continued to try moving even when he'd stopped, not noticing until the moment he was stumbling forward and smashed against the floor, his left forearm and elbow stopping him from going face-first. He looked around for a while, this time he'd noticed something, the same relentless feeling but stronger, a hint of some kind of hunger mixed in with it, he was trying to find out who and where as he tried to get up from his fall. It was then that he noticed Mr. Fung wielding a knife and attacking someone, no doubt was that the man responsible for whatever had happened.
With that in mind, Nathan did his best to clear his mind, focusing solely on the two men fighting, the table had sent the tea flying and spilled all over the floor. In his mind, he was imagining the two men happened to slip over the mess on the floor near them as they weaved in and out in combat, the shuffling cards being his focus to get it across.
[Entropy 2, subtle in accordance to my resonance and using a WP]
[Wharil Choc]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 8)
[Blind man Lunges!]
[Wharil Choc]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Wharil Dodges, split action]
[Wharil Choc]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 10 (Success x 1 at target 8)
[Wharil Beats blind old man with a chair]
[Wharil Choc]
Again Fung recovers. Its unclear how he finds Wharil. His face swings about the room until he homes in on...the smell, perhaps? Or the sound of his frightened heart? Or perhaps he saw him, the same way that he saw Nathan Spriggs.
Before even Wharil has time to puzzle it out, the old man is lunging again. His feet don't carry him as well as they should. He falters and slows on the spilled tea, and though Wharil does the same its enough for him to sidestep just out of the way. And, still slipping himself, he reels suddenly with a chair in hand, and swings the bulk of it against the old man's back.
Even if he were as young as he looked. Even if he were merely a blind fifty year old, that blow would have still sent him sprawling the way that it did. The two guards continue to tussle on the ground. And Wharil, not yet satisfied, lunges for the collapsed baster Fung.
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 4) [WP]
It's chaos. Nathan falls, and so do the two mobsters who were there with Fung. They roll around on the ground, beating each other and getting covered in tea, consumed and overwhelmed with their negative passions.
Wharil picks up a chair and begins to hit the old man with it. The image makes Ashley's mouth quirk into a grin for a moment - it wouldn't, of course, if he weren't a goddamn Nephandus - and then she's lifting up the candle on the table to help the Euthanatos. She waits until Wharil is clear and on the other side, hooks a finger around the gold and copper links, and then she blows on the candle. Out springs a gout of flame, so hot it steals the oxygen from a person's lungs, bright and vibrant with primal energy, jetting toward the old man and hopefully setting alight.
[Prime 2 + Forces 2, using a focus, spending a WP and a Quintessence. Delaying Paradox until the end of the scene.]
[Nathan Spriggs]
People capable of breathing magical fire on others were never good for your health, so Nathan decided that while the two fighters were preoccupied, and since the woman was busy breathing fire like a dragon straight out of Medieval fantasy stories, he'd get the fuck out of Dodge. Unfortunately, attempts to get back on his feet were catastrophic so he decided to crawl his way out in the chaos, keeping low to avoid being seen as he crawled full-force for the door, he didn't feel like becoming tasty human barbecue tonight.
[Wharil Choc]
That was not candle fire. There was no coincidence there. Perhaps she'd been pocketing some kind of flammable liquid in her cheeks. Perhaps she had a jet of gasoline strapped to her chin. Or perhaps...perhaps the dragons had come to Chinatown.
Wharil drew back suddenly as a gout of flam shot by him. He could feel it, tightening his skin to leather, eating at the hair on his arms, on his face. He turns to Ashley, amazed. Frightened.
"Holy SHIT!"
Not even the awakened could believe that one. And while the two men gouged at each others eyes, and while Master Fung squealed and steamed and crackled on the ground, surrounded by black scorch marks and covered in tongues of flame. Wharil pulled himself together, turning to Ashley with that same amazed, fightened look.
"Lets get out of here!" He said as he headed for the door. Both hands came down on Nathan's collar and dragged him up to his feet.
"You're coming with us!"
[Ashley McGowen]
And, yes, they get the hell out of there, leaving the old man screaming and writhing on the ground as the flames devour his flesh. His hair, his human expressions. When Ashley's eyes meet Wharil's they, too, are a little frightened. It's an expression that says that she hadn't expected it to be that effective, and that it was impulsive, propelled by visceral Hunger.
Wharil runs and he seizes Nathan's collar, and Ashley lets the effect on Nathan's feet fall away as she runs after the two of them, ducking her head as though she can hide it from the Paradox that will be coming down.
Moderation, moderation.
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Mmm, backlash.]
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Soak]
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan considered resisting for a moment but then let them carry him away, struggling still to get back on his feet. Back one day and already fire-breathing awakened were dragging him around town, hopefully the fact he wasn't on fire yet meant they were at least willing to have a word before getting violent.
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley staggers for a short, blinding instant, and then straightens again, blinking away the pain of a migraine, clapping a hand over her right ear and continuing on her outward trajectory. But, in spite of that, there's a wide grin on her face that she can't suppress: utter exhileration.
And they dart out onto the street.
[Wharil Choc]
Out into the street, and immediately into a crowd. People were beginning to crowd around the window, watching the two men inside fight still, while their employer writhed in the final throes of a fiery death.
Wharil slipped out easily. The man who he held by the collar sightly less so. Ashley follows out, and the attention of the crowd shifts to her instantly. Someone points. Someone shouts. Wharil, unused to attracting attention, keeps walking, dragging Nathan with him and ducking into an alley.
...Even as a small crowd breaks off, and follows behind them.
"Alright." Wharil says, and he gives Nathan a shove. "Who the hell are you?"
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan had already gotten used to the rough treatment from Wharil so when the shove came, he was already prepared mentally and managed to avoid smashing into a wall too hard. He'd been going over the words to say all of the trip, so at least he wasn't at a lost for words now. "Innocent awakened bystander who unfortunately caught the interest of an ancient apparently soul sucking monster. In short, name's Nathan. What's your name?" Nathan spoke with the same level tone he'd used on the woman at the entrance, shockingly unfazed by the recent happens, or at least that's how he was pretending to be.
[Ashley McGowen]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 4) [WP]
People are watching Ashley, pointing. The Hermetic eyes the gathering crowd nervously, unsure of what to do about them; she's never had to try to actively make people -forget- about something that happened before.
Wharil ducks into an alley, and taking cues from him, Ashley follows behind, gripping the iron link and trying to keep her face hidden, trying to imitate Wharil's body language, the way he slides into the alley, the way their attention slides off of him like water off a duck feather. She Wills the crowd to disperse and believe that she's gone. Trying to imitate that blur that Wharil always has about him, for at least a few minutes.
Nathan, she leaves up to Wharil. If she can't get the crowd to go away she might have to meet up with them later anyway.
[Mind 2, using a focus, spending a WP.]
[Wharil Choc]
The crowd comes to the mouth of the alley, peering in for a moment. Their eyes settle on Wharil, Ashley for a moment. On Nathan. They dance over Wharil. Then the move on, continuing to look for the fire-breathing lady.
"Not quite ancient. I'd bet you haven't seen ancient yet. What'd he say to you?" The other question, apparently, was either overlooked or straight out ignored.
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley lets out a soft exhale, letting her shoulders relax as the crowd passes on by. Relieved. She's going to murmur an apology to Wharil but then decides to save it, folding her arms and looking at the young man.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan might be in a very bad position, but he wasn't enough of a coward to just bend over and do everything asked of him. If they didn't play ball and at least introduce themselves, then he figured negotiations had already broken down anyway. "First your name, then I'll answer your questions, I'm not liable to trust someone I just met and saw burn another person to cinders, am I? I'll trust you're not out to kill me or are a techie from your presence and the fact I'm not gone, but that's all I know so far." Nathan spoke in the same tone as before but altered it just enough to let it be known that he meant what he said in no uncertain terms.
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil glares at the man. But the brightness in his dark eyes just won't let him look menacing. He knows this. And relents.
"Fine. Fine, that's...only fair. My name is Wharil Choc. This is my associate."
He nods over to Ashley who, it seems, can give her own name if she chooses.
[Ashley McGowen]
"Ashley McGowen," the Hermetic says. Her breaths are no longer gasping, greedy things that devoured the cool air outside; they've become steadier, easier, as she tucks her hands away in her coat pocket. Her pupils are still dialated with fear and adrenaline and the raw, lively joy that can't help but accompany both, in spite of the gravity of the situation they just ran out of and in spite of the consequences there will probably be for her.
"You next," she tells Nathan, fixing blue eyes on him and shrugging up the collar of her jacket against the wind that creeps down the alley.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan finally betrayed a sign of weakness, even if only a slight one, he took a deep breath to calm himself down before starting his story.
"I arrived back from an extended business trip just tonight, haven't been in the city all that long though I knew a lot of people in it, not awakened mind you. The cold was horrible, still is, and I was in the mood for Chinese so I headed for the restaurant, once inside I had the unfortunate luck of being noticed by that... that thing. He knew what I was and called me over, I didn't know him or what he was but given how he was dressed, I figured he might be a Technocrat and busting into a run wasn't the best way to go. Once over there, he said he'd invited me because he'd met others like me," Nathan paused, taking a deep breath before continuing as he looked back on the events that had just occurred.
"His henchmen's exact translations to what he said was 'Master Fung says, he can no longer see the physical world. He was robbed of that gift many years ago. But still, he can see that which is unseen. He sees the energy of your spirit. Master Fung finds you very intriguing. He has met a handful of others with similar spirits. He has enjoyed conversations with these men. He would enjoy conversation with you."
Nathan stopped his story there, letting them digest what he'd said and understand the implications after what they'd just seen. Luckily, he'd given them the precise words to avoid the confusion of explaining it in his own words, thanks to his photographic memory he remembered precisely what they'd said and how they'd said it.
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil's gaze dropped when Nathan recounted what he was told. Fung had met others like them. Could pick the awakened out in a crowd. But he hadn't noticed Wharil or Ashley until they came closer.
A handful of others. The energy of the spirit. Conversations.
"Conversations. Yeah, I bet. Its just what I thought then."
"Blackheart was a necromancer." He says to Ashley, continuing their previous conversation. "Whatever pacts he ade, he must have extended them to Fung. And Fung found a way to continue them on his own, feeding on others to keep himself young."
His lips tighten again into that uncomfortable line.
"Too bad we can't ask him exactly how he did that, now that he's dead."
[Ashley McGowen]
She listens to Nathan, eyes intent as she puts everything together with what Wharil told her about Fung earlier that evening. And she looks sidelong at the Euthanatos as he begins speaking, nodding once or twice.
Only to clear her throat and glance down at the ground as she sees his mouth form that thin line, well aware of what he's about to say before he says it. Ashley raises a hand to the back of her neck. "Yeah, sorry, I didn't think that was going to kill him. He was coming at you with a knife, so I'd just meant to hurt him and put him down, not..."
[Nathan Spriggs]
"That's why I tried to trip him, sorry if you got caught up," Nathan added in response to Ashley's comment, conveniently keeping the fact he'd tried to trip them both for some mutually assured destruction to himself.
[Wharil Choc]
"...With fire? He's a hundred and fifty year old man, not a...a...thing that you throw fire at."
He sighs, shakes his head, and waves his hand in the air to brush the whole thing away.
"Well...Nathan. You're not dead, and you've got your soul intact. What's your plan now?"
[Ashley McGowen]
"You hit him with a -chair-!" Ashley says.
And then Wharil brushes the matter away so she does too. Even the vaguely guilty, apologetic look fades after a few seconds as she looks back at Nathan, waiting to hear the man's answer.
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan thought for a moment before replying to Wharil's question. "I was hoping you could tell me. If this is what's waiting for me, all I can say is I was lucky to run into you two."
[Wharil Choc]
"Lucky. Right. Well, don't know how long you've been on your extended trip, but we've got ourself a situation you have a right to know about. There's a Marauder on the loose, so you might want to keep your guard up. There's also evidence of Nephandi activity all over the city. We're trying to get a handle on it but its...not easy. The awakened in the city are pretty disorganized but we--"
Wharil stops himself, suddenly glancing at Ashley before continuing.
"We're...trying."
[Ashley McGowen]
Wharil stops himself, and Ashley looks back at him and gives him a quick nod. Appreciative, almost. "You'll probably want to keep your guard up and make sure you get in touch with other people around the city," she tells Nathan. "Network and all that. Find allies."
[Nathan Spriggs]
"...Something I should be worrying about asides from Marauders or Nephandi? Sudden pauses and meaningful glances from one person to another never seem to help with uneasy for some reason." He didn't even try to hide the suspicion or annoyance in his tone, if they were going to be suspicious of something, they might as well wait until he was out of earshot and speak behind his back.
[Wharil Choc]
"That depends. When's the last time you ate a baby or sucked out someone's soul?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley folds her arms and watches Nathan as though she is, in fact, taking that question seriously. Who knows, maybe she is.
Then, after a minute, she asks, "Do you have a Tradition?"
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan observed Wharil and Ashley carefully for a moment before answering. "Never to both of your questions, Wharil, and Cult. Though I don't exactly do the whole drug-craze thing we're usually stereotyped for, not really my style."
[Wharil Choc]
"Huh." Wharil says, and his entire posture changes. His face lightens as he glances at Nathan again, as if seeing him for the first time. A moment later he's jutting out a hand to shake.
"Euthanatos. Not many cultists in the city. Not that I'm aware of, at least. The last two were...uh...well..." And that ease and relief in his eyes falls away again as he makes another quick glance to and from Ashley.
"Glad to meet you."
[Ashley McGowen]
"Oh, good. Means I can take you seriously," Ashley says when he says he doesn't fall into Tradition stereotype, leaning her left shoulder in against the wall. Her cheek twitches a bit, a pull of muscles near her nose; she's noticing the headache more now that most of the adrenaline has faded.
"I'm with the Order of Hermes. Nice to meet you, Nathan."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan leaned back against the wall, taking Wharil's hand and looking him in the eyes as he sighs, the fear that he'd felt during the restaurant was finally starting to fade. He could feel his heartbeat slowing down and his hands stop shaking quite as much as before. "An Euthanatos and a Hermes, huh... I won't pry how many of us awakened are in the city since this is our first meeting and that would look suspicious, but man I can't believe I never ran into anyone before."
[Wharil Choc]
"I can. A lot of folks seem to be a little...self serving. Doesn't matter what the rest of the awakened are doing, as long as they're comfortable and safe. That's how we wound up in the situation we're in today.
"All the more reason for us to keep in touch now, don't you think?"
[Ashley McGowen]
"I don't even have numbers on how many people there are. It's a big city. I don't think we've found everyone," Ashley says, before glancing down toward her pocket. After a moment's pause she's delving into it, finding a packet of business cards among pens, receipts, a folded collection of Kafka's short stories, other business cards, and a packet of mint gum. Who knows how she managed to fit it all into her coat pockets.
She pulls one card free and extends it toward Nathan. "Here. My name and phone number, if you need to get in touch with me."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan took Ashley's card and looked at it, making sure to memorize the content before he took a lighter and burned it. "Thanks, don't want it to fall in the wrong hands. I don't carry a cellphone though, or any other way of tracking me down for the most part, but I can tell you where my apartment is. I'll try to keep in touch with you through payphones if I can find any working ones."
((Insert random Bridgeport location there until I can decide a specific spot in it through google))
[Wharil Choc]
Wharil smiles at the whole procedure, and at the continued arms-length mix of trust and mistrust.
"I like you Nathan. You kinda remind me of me."
[Ashley McGowen]
Nathan lights the card she gives him on fire, explaining that he doesn't keep a cell phone and works only through pay phones. The Hermetic's mouth seems like it can't decide whether it wants to smile or hang open, and the incredulous expression that results is somewhere between both.
"...A little paranoid, huh."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Nathan looked at Wharil and smiled, before turning to Ashley with an amused look on his face. "Paranoid. Aware. Po-ta-to. Po-tah-toh. I just like thinking that the extra hardship makes life just that little bit more secure."
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley looks back at him, shrugs, and says, "Hardship usually does that. However you want to live, I guess." She roughs a hand through the shaggy hair on the back of her head, looking sidelong at Nathan. "There's a chantry house, too, and it's almost safe to go back to at present. Soon, hopefully."
[Nathan Spriggs]
Considering the situation from the way she'd spoken, Nathan wondered if the chantry had been compromised at some point, though he decided it was best not to ask for now. He took a moment to consider his words before he spoke again, "Sounds like you've only just started to get organized, any idea on places to avoid by the way?"
[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley's mouth thins as she considers this question. To the Tytalan, 'places to avoid' generally means 'places to go and check out and explore,' really. The woman is not afraid of much, which, of course, has its merits and its drawbacks.
"The supernatural threats around town could pop up anywhere. There's a Technocratic presence that you might want to watch out for, but I don't know where they're headquartered. Other than that...it's pretty much just a city."
[Nathan Spriggs]
After a momentary expression between disappointment and relief, his face reverted to the usual unreadable expression he always had. Nathan had bit back on saying 'Thanks for nothing', she'd been trying to help so the least he could do was be nice to her. "I'll hope that means their presence hasn't been noticed enough to merit investigation on the matter."
[Ashley McGowen]
"They hunted us down," she says, with a sidelong look at Wharil to confirm this, "and wanted us to back off from our investigation into the Nephandi and the Marauder. I don't really intend to honor that request, so if you want to keep your head down, that's all you."
[Nathan Spriggs]
"Normally I wouldn't hesitate to save my own ass, however I have a feeling that if Nephandi and Marauders are running wild, keeping my head down won't keep them off my back for long." Nathan said this with about as much honesty as he could muster on any good day, even being the self-serving prick he usually was.
[Ashley McGowen]
"No, probably not," Ashley agrees, "which is the conclusion most of us have come to." She shuffles the business cards that are still in her hand and stretches the rubber band around them once more. "...That's really about it, though. Just talk to people. Been trying to encourage people to form their own groups and networks and stay organized."
[Nathan Spriggs]
"Thanks for the info, and I'll be in touch soon. Hopefully next time we see each other it won't be in a situation like this one."
[Ashley McGowen]
"Hopefully not," Ashley agrees, raising a hand in a wave as she turns to walk out of the alley. "Call me if you need anything."
She peers out into the street, cautiously, waiting to make sure that there aren't any more people waiting out there for her. And, having ascertained that it is safe, the Hermetic steps out into the night.
