Everybody Wants the Crown [Pactverse Quest]

"Jack?" Your mom's voice snaps you out of your focus, as you were nervously checking over your outfit. "Sweetie, are you ready?"

You give yourself a last look. Your hair's alright, your hoodie (copper-colored and with gears over the heart) isn't backwards, your t-shirt with the symbol of the Adeptus Mechanicus isn't dirty, your pants are on with the zipper on the right side, shoes are tied but not to each other and the socks under them were only kinda dirty.

Which only left... you look at your left wrist, where a strap of leather is bound to your wrist. It's half as thick as your belt and decorated with a single brass gear in the middle, with blue circuit lines going out from it.

"Yeah, I'm ready!" You call back, once you're sure the rune-covered chains around your Token were tight. Your dad had told you they couldn't be taken off by accident, only through intent and a small amount of power. But you kinda like not turning into a blood-thirsty mechanical monster, so it never hurts to check it over.

Your relationship with your Patron is kinda complicated. Ever since the day...

[] The Deal: Just how did your deal with Vox Mechanica begin?
-[] She saved you: You were recently Awakened and making every mistake you could, despite your parents' efforts. You almost got your face eaten by some rogue Ghoul before a nearby screen started glitching and a smooth voice offered salvation in exchange for your services. You accepted, and Vox never really stopped being protective of you. (Gain Guardian Patron trait, making rolls based on defending and healing yourself slightly easier.)
-[] You found her: Mystic powers or not, you're a member of Gen Z, and you couldn't help but search the internet for magic crap now that you had Awakened. You found a little ritual on a forum, a rumor of a being that could grant wishes in exchange for service. In a puberty-driven rush of feeling inadequate, you asked to be made better and she followed through. (Gain +1 to any one normal stat.)
--[] Write-in what stat you improve.
-[] You found your boomstick: You were new with the Practice and had recently, on a friend's recommendation, gotten into the Wield TTRPG, so naturally you went looking for a magic tool of some kind. Well, Vox answered (as she loves to do), but everything comes with a price. (Gain Magic Weapon that deals damage according to a Puissance roll every hit.)
--[] Melee Range Uses 'Tough' stat to hit.
--[] Long Range Uses 'Sharp' stat to hit.
-[] Your parents introduced her to you: It was the same day you Awakened, actually. Once the ritual was through, your parents summoned her and made the introductions. It was kinda awkward, but they'd seemed happy with her for giving you a Token, for some reason. (Gain Family History trait, granting a better Execution stat and one combat trait. Your parents are Harbingers like you with this.)
-[] Your parents introduced you to her: It was the same day you Awakened, actually. Your folks explained that they basicaly worked for her and how they would have preferred you did the same kinda work, but Vox needed a certain kind of follower and you were available. The deal was mostly arranged for you, but you wouldn't have made a much better one anyways. (Gain Second Stormwind trait, granting a second, more dangerous (to you and everyone around you) version of your berserker form. Your parents are Priests with this, exchanging Vox's favour for power.)

... you'd essentially been Vox's indentured servant, but she hadn't asked for much of you once you told her you were waiting until you finished high school to get serious with the Practice. She'd said something about how she had enough resources to survive until then, but that any delays past that would be 'taken from your mortal hide', whatever that actually means.

Well, now you had graduated, summer was starting, and it was time for you to get introduced to the greater Practitioner community of Poet's Hill. Partly because you don't wanna find out what it feels like to have bits of your mortal hide punished, and partly 'cause you have plans. Not that you've confided them to anyone.

Done with your woolgathering, you ignore the Token and walk out of your room. Your parents, Edgar and Laura Alexander, are waiting by the door. Neither is dressed too fancy, since they've been meeting with these people twice a month for as long as you can remember and kinda hate most of them, but they clearly made a bit of effort since it was your debut.

"Hey, there's the man of the hour," your dad grins at you. "How are you feeling?"

"Kinda nervous," you admit. "Excited, though."

"Eh, don't get too eager," he says, opening the door and holding it for your mom and you to exit the apartment first. "The way these things tend to go is that Johan will act the part of an asshole, Patrick'll get mad at him, Jeanne and Eustace will either make peace or stare into each others eyes depending on if both show up and the rest of the small timers will just sit quietly and wait for someone to need dirty work they can't be bothered with to be dealt with."

You give your dad a look. "... well, you don't need to make it sound too intense."

"Sorry, sorry," he chuckles. "Well, things may be a little more interesting this month. You know that family that moved last week?"

"Yeah, Millie from the cornerstore mentioned something." Namely, something about them having a 'cute little thing of a daughter' who 'dresses weird like you sweetie' and was 'bound to get along with you, no doubt'.

"Turns out they're Practitioners. More than that, Scourges!" He raises his eyebrows at that. "Maybe they'll deal with the House on Foxglove Hills."

"One can only hope," your mom mutters, giving you a meaningful look.

Which was rude, really. You'd only tried to pick a fight with the haunted house full of slasher movie monsters twice, and you hadn't tried again in years!

... okay, mom was kinda justified with that look. You smile and shrug at her, earning an eyeroll and dad's chuckling.

What? It was your brand to be a bit cheeky.

Your footsteps echoed as you went down the stairs.


It wasn't much of a walk to leave the Flowers Apartment complex and make your way to the Glassbreaker Crow - Bar & Cafe, one of the three local hangouts. Coffee house by day and irish bar by night, it was grudgingly shared by people on both sides of the legal drinking age, with the ocassional cordial nod exchanged as one group left and the other entered.

(Of course, that hadn't stopped you and some of the guys from the old gaming club from trying to sneak in after hours. You'd even been allowed in a few times, if Bartender Nick knew you'd been getting good grades.

It's hard to get into mischief when everyone knows everyone.)

Still, this is the first time you were allowed into the back. With some little attention blocker runes from your dad, you walk through the side alley without drawing looks from the passerby, and your mom knocks three times on the metal door in the back of the shop.

[Sharp Roll (2d6): 4,5=9]
[Weird Roll (2d6+1): 6,3=9+1=10 ]

As you wait for someone to answer, you catch something in the corner of your eye that draws your attention. What at first glance looked like a bunch of frankly mediocre graffiti appears to actually be a pretty complex array of runes. Sigils were spray painted in little places in discreet grey and black paint, almost hidden among the more colorful paintings, which actually connected and tied the runes together.

You're not quite familiar with all of them, or even most of them, but going from the ones you did recognize and the way they were arranged--three major groups of runes, all arranged in vaguely circular shapes and aimed outwards--it seems to be an attention blocker directed at three specific groups. Or, rather than block attention, it redirects it... to the front!

Suddenly, it was easy to remember a lot of times you'd thought about sneaking in only to settle for a cuppa coffee. Which is, y'know, disturbing, but also cool in how elegantly incorporated and designed this was.

You're not sure what the groups are, though. Why isn't it affecting you anymore? Maybe if you got a closer look-

"Seems like he's got good eyes, at least," a dry male voice notes, snapping you out of your focus and making you see that a slot had been opened and a pair of cold blue eyes are peering out at you. "Not so sure about his ears, though."

Heat floods your face, but your mom steps in before you can make an ass out of yourself. "Do spare us your opinion, Martin. Now, will you be letting us in or should we have brought a tent?"

An aggrieved sigh rings out, but a lock comes undone and the door is opened. A hairy man with the general body shape of a bag of wet cement and an expression like what it must feel like to be wet cement is standing there, looking displeased at your presence. If the dark red hair and blue eyes are any indication, this is a member of the Byrnes family, which came into Poet's Hill from Ireland around the same time as the phrases 'say, these British fucks are taxing a bit much for tea, aren't they?' and 'I know, let's call this place "Poet's Hill"' started getting popular.

"Welcome to the meeting. The usual oaths-" he looks at you, sighs for roughly five seconds and starts over. "Welcome to the meeting. By attending this meeting, you are agreeing that you are whom you appear to be, that your name has been yours since you've had a name, that you will not bring harm to any of the others and Others attending the meeting unless they do so first for the duration of this meeting, that you will not set things in motion so that harm comes to any of the others and Others attending the meeting after they leave while in the meeting, that you will not get intoxicated by your own will during the meeting, that you will not intoxicate another attendee, that you will not set things in motion so another attendee gets intoxicated, that you have not set up the building to explode, implode, burn down, flood, freeze, vanish, be consumed by the Abyss, or come to harm into any way, that you have not poisoned the air around the building, that you will not lock the doors after the meeting is done and do any of the previously stated acts, and that you, in fact, will not get naked and dance on a table until the meeting is done and everyone else has left."

... maybe that five second sigh was justified, actually. Especially since, with a new family in town, he'd have to do that twice.

With that being said...

"Is that bit about getting naked and dancing on a table negotiable?" you ask, and when the only person that seems to find it funny is your dad, you sigh and nod. "Got it, no fucking around. I'll attend."

Martin Byrne nods and walks into the back of the store, followed by your family. The interior is much bigger than it has any right to be, with there actually being a little room for people to hang off their coats and a door that separates the actual meeting room.

Once you walk through the door-

[Sharp Roll (2d6): 1,3=4]

- you completely fail to identify anyone.

Well, more exactly, you fail to remember their names. You've seen them around and you knew they were involved in the Practice, so they're familiar but you couldn't tell who's who with a gun to your head.

Still, some are so notorious that it would have been harder not to recognize them.

Sitting at the head of a table, the heads of the three biggest Practitioner families in Poet's Hill observe your arrival with varying reactions.

A thin old man, severely wrinkled, clean shaven and with a full head of bone-white hair slicked back, sits at the very end of the table. He wears an all-black three piece suit, tailored perfectly to his boney frame, which only serves to bring out how he appears to be made solely out of sharp edges. He holds a black walking cane with a gilded gold grip across his lap, rolling it with one hand.

The other hand is tightly gripping a golden chain, the other end attached to a red velvet collar around the neck of a fairly large black goat with four horns. You really hope that's his Familiar, otherwise you're gonna be really confused.

He gives you a single look, snorts dismissively, and goes back to ignoring everyone. What a dick.

To his left and a seat down is a much burlier man, seeming to be of age with your parents. Maybe a little older. His torso is almost square in its broadness, and his long hair that he keeps in a ponytail is starting to go white at the edges. His beard on the other hand is wrapped into two thin side braids and one large one down the middle, all kept together by wooden rings.

Sitting on his shoulder sat a little raccoon. Again, you really hope that these are Familiars and that you didn't walk into a room full of people with unusual taste in pets. Or if you did, that today would end with you getting a pony.

When he looks at you, you see that his eyes catch the light oddly for a moment, then go down to your Token before turning back to your face as he makes a bit of a grimace, then turns back to his conversation with the woman in front of him.

Said woman is a bit older than the second man, but much cheerier than both combined. She has suntanned skin, soft blond hair in a pixie cut and a modest sense of fashion. She wore a t-shirt depicting a cartoon cow wearing four boxing gloves with a speech bubble that declares 'Go Green or I'll Get Mean!' and blue jeans that seemed to be covered in old grass stains. From the side of her belt hangs a brass horn shaped like a loop, for some reason. She has wrinkles around her eyes from smiling, and demonstrates why when she beams at your parents as soon as they come in.

At her feet, dozing peacefully, is a huge wolfdog, which is refreshingly normal.

When you come in, she looks at you, beams at your parents and gives you an excited little wave. You return it a bit awkwardly, which is enough for her to triple the energy of her waving.

Respectively, these were Johan Byrne, the 302 year old patriarch of the Byrne Family and the guy your former high school had been named after. Patrick Calloway, patriarch of the Calloway family and, according to your parents, someone with an actual army on call at all times. And Jeanne Wayne-Flowers, head of the Untamed--an enviromentalist cult with sects all around the world--and someone with Others on par with Vox Mechanica on speed dial.

And they'd all looked at you. Holy crap.

[] Do you look at them with the Sight? The Sight is basically a filter that gives you a better look at the Spirits surrounding everything, represented in a way that makes sense to you based on your Awakening, personality, Practice, etc. Every Practitioner has it.
-[] Yes: You just gotta know if these people are walking around with a normal-ass goat and raccoon with them at all times.
-[] No: Might be seen as rude to do it the first time you meet them if any of them are particularly prickly, and you can do it any time you see them.

But whatever notice was lent to you, the fact remained that you were only seventeen and this was your first time at a meeting, so you were redirected to the kids' table while your parents sat on the far side of the table, where there was only a severe-looking woman in a dark grey pantsuit whom you didn't recognize, meaning she was probably one of the newcomers.

The kids' table, which was actually covered in snacks and beverages, has seven people around it.

A boy and girl maybe a bit older than you that look enough alike to be twins, wearing formal-casual clothes and talking quietly but animatedly between themselves.

A kid around your age in a wheelchair that has a black and yellow backpack slung over the back of it is enjoying some cookies and ignoring with practiced ease the older boy that talks away at him.

A girl wearing a black sundress with sunflowers painted on it, smiling and talking with a girl wearing a leather jacket, both of them throwing looks your way and in the direction of the other newcomer.

And speaking of which, there was someone there that you didn't recognize even the face of, a short girl wearing goth fashion. Probably the daughter of the woman in the grey pantsuit.

... welp! Time to make your debut!

[] Who do you talk to? All your friends left for college instead of pursuing careers in magic like losers, so you gotta make new friends (Pick up to Three)
-[] The Twins: Maybe with Practice that bit about psychic twins is true?
-[] The Kid in the Wheelchair and the Ignored Guy: You think you can see some runes on the kid's wheels and you gotta know what that's about.
-[] Butch Rocker and the Sundress Kid: If they're so curious about you then you might as well just go and talk to them.
-[] The Other New Girl: Hell, at least you know what you can talk about. Probably shouldn't offer to introduce her to others, though.


QM's Note: Well, things are getting started. Not much to vote on, just the finishing starting details from your character and setting up some of the future characters. Leaving what the vote should look like again for your convenience:

[] PLAN NAME
-[] The Deal
--[] Your Choice
-[] Do you look at them with The Sight?
--[] Your Choice
-[] Who do you talk to?
--[] Your Choice(s)