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Thread: Prologue team Silver: Rock smashes glass.

  1. #1
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    Default Prologue team Silver: Rock smashes glass.

    It is friday evening the 13th of january 2017. Unlucky for some.
    The weather is cold and dreary with no sunlight getting through the thick cloud cover all day and the city almost dark already even if it is only 5:30 pm.
    Where are you and what are you doing?
    Characters:
    - Executor Divine Katharina Durmond - Rise of the Runelords
    - Freya 'Forcefox' DeVos - Power Corrupts
    - Tycho Boughbreaker - Fall of Melior

    Campaigns:
    - Against the Shadow - Pathfinder Midnight campaign
    - Chronicles of Misthaven - Pathfinder Homebrew campaign

  2. #2
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    Niels is manning the counter at Li's Lost and Found, but he's alone, so he's sitting on the back-supporting wheelie chair watching (aghast) Thank You for Smoking on the laptop under the counter.
    He's got his magickal reading assignment from his grandmother open on his lap. He should really be studying--it'd assure Min Li of his otherwise absent dedication to the magickal world and maybe she'd stop hating him, but that's a long shot. Besides, these Red Vines weren't going to eat themselves while this fast-talking lobbyist makes his pro-smoking case.
    Niels can't tear his eyes off the screen long enough to spare a glance at the candy. He has to feel his way through the package, but that's part of the experience. If only he had a bucket of salted, buttered popcorn to go with.
    He rolls the Red Vine from one side of his mouth to the other like a cigarette. A red, overlong, and droopy cigarette. Katie Holmes was in this movie?

  3. #3

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    Sarah's just got home. Her hands tucked in her pockets and head buried deep in her grey hoodie, she makes a beeline straight for her room, nodding if anyone happens to be home. After making sure the door's shut, she falls into her chair and unlocks her computer, quickly clicking through until she loads up Titanfall 2 - her current video game obsession.

    Shoving on her headset, she stretches out her arms and then picks up her controller - it's better for the wallruns than the keyboard - before curling her legs up under her and settling in for her favourite kind of evening. After all, any night you can spend in parkour-gunbattles and giant-mech-fights is a good night in her book.

  4. #4
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    Quitting time was just over half an hour ago and while her coworkers had headed to the bar Zoe had found herself penniless once again, the perks of apprenticeships. While she'd prefer to keep on working at the scrapyard and bunk in the employee lounge both Lucy and her boss had heavily suggested that Zoe find some accommodation further in the city. Wandering out of an alley as non-chantey as she could she crossed the street for another suitable trove. Her search was not just for a place to spend the night but something to eat as well, a half eaten burger, a solitary slice of pizza or perhaps some beans on the eve of their expiration date. She'd not had too much luck though. It would be best to hit the cafes after they had closed up, they always tended to have some stale cakes or pastries that lasted little more than a week tossed out back, but it didn't hurt to look now. It's not like she was doing anything else.

    She slipped off her green bandana, freeing the knotted mass of pale blonde dreadlocks that had formed from months of neglect, and stuffed into a front pocket. No need to shield from the sun when the clouds were doing it for her as she neared the entrance to the alley. She paused, there was something familiar on the air, something she recognized about this place. She cast an eye around, she knew the area but she couldn't place why. That was until she spotted one sign six buildings down Li's Lost and Found. She rolled her eyes, had her position truly been cemented as the packs gofer that she might as well live under the damned shop? Maybe that was why she'd been given a fetish that could be contacted from a payphone, 'Yeah just nip in and get us that weird looking cat skull, you know the one next to the scroll that smells vaguely of the Wyrm. Cheers darling.' Her hands curled tightly around the devise hidden in her side pocket, though she soon relaxed and caressed the casing.

    "No its not your fault, I just wish they'd give me a chance for something more important." Her eyes met with a passing business man who stepped around the strange pale girl talking to herself. Sighing she entered into the alley and continued her scrounging. 'Pestering that guy at Li's might be worth it if there's nothing around here. Probably won't get somewhere to stay but he might be nice enough to toss a sandwich my way.' She thought as she lifted the lid of a dumpster. 'Hmm, should I trust a mage sammich though? I dunno.' She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, the night was barely born and she had plenty of other avenues to explore for her meal.
    -Active-
    Bright-eyed idealist Briar Williams and her Vigilante façade Poppet


  5. #5

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    Just across the street from Li's and a bit to the side is the Beauty Sleep Bay, a bit of a chintzy motel that actually keeps pretty clean. It's not much of one, but it's a small Chantry, a gathering point, and likely one where some of the others on the block have taken lessons. In any case, sitting down against the wall, case open, a particular busker is at it again, aviators on and blonde locks flowing free from under a floral bandanna. Her leather coat is worn over a tunic, almost too much scarf all around, a denim skirt, and what look to be some pretty heavy-duty leggings along with boots. She even has some fingerless gloves on, but it'll get too cold eventually for her to be out here.

    This is Elena, though, bobbing her head slowly as she plays her choices for the day in the vein of the blues. Her fingers know every note, her voice doesn't miss, and she doesn't do too bad on the cash for having a bunch of local townies walk by. "...ain't no sunshine when she's goooone, and this house just ain't no home anytime she goes away..." Definitely a day for the blues.

    She always keeps her eyes closed while playing, lost in her world. That isn't to say she's unaware of people around, but if she were to peek, her view would be all kinds of distorted. The Extrasensory Mode engaged today is a combination of Time Sense, Empathy, and Quantified Energy. To see people would only be colors and emotions, although that would also let her see stronger auras, perhaps, distortions...the former most important for sensing Garou, as is her task. Hence, though, her shades, to give the mystery of just appearing stoned for now. Her eyes are completely clear, not bloodshot, which would be a giveaway. This isn't an ability she so readily advertises, although some mages learn eventually what the Cult of Ecstacy can really do.

    At the moment though, she's just a music-playing girl-next-door.
    Last edited by Theprettiestorc; 01-13-2017 at 02:29 PM.
    "A good speech should be like a woman's skirt: Long enough to cover the subject but short enough to keep people interested." -Winston Churchill

    The very Prettiest Orc avatar done by the talented Letty Wilson.








  6. #6
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    With a mild wind in his beard, Hagrid is enjoying what he can of the last few bits of daylight. After his third trip around a couple city blocks, he decides that the engine sounds good enough and turns to head back home. One of his duties while manning this station was making sure all the bikes were in working order- oiled up, repaired, even shiny if they wanted to pay- in case a member needed them. He didn't mind it much, even if some of the seats were made for those bony-asses newbies that liked having a narrow seat shoved up their behind. Being an old member, he preferred his custom shovelhead Harley, with its wide leather seat and extend front wheel for his long arms. Thinking about how much he spent on it made him wince a little that quickly turned into a grin as he remembered his last road trip. Great times just cruising the roads, no time in mind, just you and the wind........ he shook his head a little to snap back to the present and made a left turn to drift to his garage/apartment/armory/safe house/ what have you.

    Hagrid takes the time to glance at the Bay, where he sees a hippie girl playing music. He nods casually and keeps going down the street.
    As he did he glanced through the alleyways for anything suspicious like a dead body or a bunch of drifters huddled in a group. Guys were always trying to sell crappy product for a quick buck. What he did see though was a pale shape digging around in a dumpster a house down from his. Not ANOTHER friggin' hobo. This was the fourth time this week and Hagrid was getting sick of telling them where they could get food. Not in the trashcan, that's for sure! With a heavy sigh he uses the last of his momentum to glide into his driveway and flip out his kickstand. The neighbors knew better than to mess with his bikes, so he felt confidant that he could leave it there for a second.

    The large biker twist his neck from side to side, getting out the stiffness that the cold brought. Another reason he was glad to have a decent house to go into. He approached the alley and stood at its opening, blocking the most obvious route of escape.
    "HEY! You in the there! Get out here and stop diggin' through peoples trash like a raccoon!"


    “Defend the weak, protect both young and old, never desert your friends. Give justice to all, be fearless in battle and always ready to defend the right."

    —The law of Badger Lords”
    Brian Jacques, Lord Brocktree

  7. #7
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    ((Ghoul and Grensen, feel free to play out your meeting.))
    At this point an unexpected flash of light appears and shortly after it a roll of thunder. Uncommon for this time of year. At the same time as the thunder your smartphone vibrated to announce the arrival of a message. Checking it you see it's an e-mail:
    --------
    From: Dante (3ntropyaintwhatitusedtobe@councilofnine.com)
    To: *insert mages name*
    Subject: suspicious dissappearance
    Hi,
    My name is Dante. I'm the council's representative for Detroit.
    Fancy title for a shit and thankless job.
    Anyway, an Akashik reported possible 'trouble' to me a few days ago along with the mention she was gonna look into it. Her name is Svea Carlyle. Since three days ago I have been unable to track her or her phone down.
    I guess she found what she was looking for.
    I'm designating you all as a cabal and ask that you look into this.
    She said she was heading to an abandoned mental hospital. I'll tag it on your maps app. I'll also try and dig up a photo of Svea.
    She's a bitch but not someone to just disappear like that.

    Greets,
    Dante

    Ps: Sarah, you suck at Titanfall. Tag me @Dante456 if you want a real game.
    ------
    Characters:
    - Executor Divine Katharina Durmond - Rise of the Runelords
    - Freya 'Forcefox' DeVos - Power Corrupts
    - Tycho Boughbreaker - Fall of Melior

    Campaigns:
    - Against the Shadow - Pathfinder Midnight campaign
    - Chronicles of Misthaven - Pathfinder Homebrew campaign

  8. #8

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    Slowly playing her song out, Elena comes down from her music high, opening her eyes to look up at the man. Looking him over, just as he's done to her. In a myriad of color, he's...muted. Normal. Emotions concealed. The other purpose of her shades seem to be his, too - what mysteries lie within his eyes, just as hers? Gateways to the soul, they are. But his is hidden from her, this impenetrable wall of a man, this...gold tattoo, gold shades, gold hair. The Golden Man. Her playing stops, and she works her way to a stand, slinging her guitar over her back and closing her case, picking it up. "Thanks for the tip, brother-man." She tips her head, and only pauses at the clap of lightning and thunder, before checking her cell. It's a bit hazy because she's also seeing its energy, but she gets the message - putting that back in her pocket, her destination becomes a contact at Li's Lost And Found.

    Stepping inside the antiques shop, the fair-haired hippie-child takes a good look around...and is utterly-fascinated. History, through and through, some objects with tiny hints of emotion left...and she easily sees the trend. Stepping further in, she just hovers by those relics from the Vietnam War area, humming a bit as she rocks back and forth on her feet. Doing her best to appear nonchalant.
    "A good speech should be like a woman's skirt: Long enough to cover the subject but short enough to keep people interested." -Winston Churchill

    The very Prettiest Orc avatar done by the talented Letty Wilson.








  9. #9

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    Sarah blinks at the flicker and message, registering it as probably being from another Adept, and then frowns at both the abruptness of the message and how it was sent. 'Rude.' She doesn't look at the email right away, being almost at the end of the round. The lightning strike, however, makes her flinch. She finishes up quickly, aiming her saved Titan drop to land on the enemy dropship as it escapes, and then quits the game once the scoreboard comes up. Quickly, she unplugs her computer, not really trusting the surge protectors enough if the house does get struck by lightning.

    Once all that's done, she checks the email. Her eyes flick over the list of people it was sent to, and then she raises an eyebrow at the 'cabal' part. 'Great.' When she reaches the 'PS', her head tilts. Given Titanfall 2's small playerbase, if 'Dante456' did play she'd probably faced him before, unless he hid away on private games with his friends or something. It would make sense. Since he was a Mage, most likely another Adept, he probably only played with other Mages so they could hack the game with their magic.

    Her fingers flash over the keyboard, typing her response:

    K.

    That done, she heads into the rest of the house and unplugs the TV, but then she pauses by the window. 'Lightning. No rain.' Fairly certain that, by mundane standards, that was not possible, she waits for a few minutes to see if another strike occurs.

  10. #10
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    Somewhere In England
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    While there had not been anything a normal person would consider edible beyond a few discarded teabags this particular dumpster held the treasure of paper casings of a good few cupcakes, perhaps a birthday party recently, regardless the thin paper along with the few crumbs could serve her purpose. Sadly for her efforts it seemed the residents here practiced recycling, not a tin nor a magazine in sight, good for Gaia, not so much for her servant. Without a pot, spoon or balled up paper for insulation Zoe peered into the last bag. Her nose was hit by a particularity foul odor, which was impressive considering what else lay in the dumpster. There was some oozing yellowy-brown liquid filth towards the bottom of the bag, she could tell it was some kind of sausage but it looked as though it was made of bacon with a light dusting of white sugar coating its top half. While such a gift would normally be thanked, if given a weird look, this specimen was clearly maggot ridden, the dusting being fly eggs yet to hatch. While she needed something watery and preferred not to spend ten minutes spitting up the needed amount, or using other bodily fluids, she had to turn down the maggot sausage juice on this occasion just call it being picky.

    With one metal cornucopia spent Zoe turned her attention to its untapped neighbor she opened the lid but before she could get a good scrummage around she heard a gruff voice yell out into the alley. She turned her head in the direction of the large man and looked him up and down, a large man to be sure but unless leather was added to the new uniform he wasn't a cop. At best he was some homeowner hitting a midlife crisis, might explain the racoon remark rather than the more colourful language she was used to, or at worst he was an actual bike ganger and he'd "teach her a lesson" for being in the wrong turf or something, they'd struggle, she'd take a dive, he'd give her the pummeling of a lifetime and she'd be up and back digging through trash in a few minutes in the next block. She weighed her options and leaned on the open dumpster, surveying its spread.

    "Look mister," She called back to him, "I'll be gone in a few minutes alright? I'm not stealing anything and besides its not like there's anything in here you're going to mi-" She was cut off by the sudden flash of lightning. Her sensitive taffy pink eyes burst into a brilliant red before she was forced to close them as a sharp pain surged momentarily through them. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her glove as her eyelids struggled to flutter open. They'd be no actual damage due to her nature but that didn't prevent tears swelling from their ducts. "Son of a bitch... That wasn't normal." Zoe moaned as she tried to focus on the biker.
    Last edited by Grensen; 01-13-2017 at 09:32 PM.
    -Active-
    Bright-eyed idealist Briar Williams and her Vigilante façade Poppet


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