Green Flame Rising (Exalted vs Dresden Files)

9th of July 2006 A.D.

You stretch as you begin to rise, and that proves too much for the seams of your abused dress, which split, falling around your belted waist and exposing the gleam of mail underneath. Shrugging mentally you move your chair towards the waking lycanthrope and sit down. "You know, my mother is going to be really unhappy that you ruined my dress. Which makes me unhappy." With a flick of your wrist you flick your chair backwards

The man, shaven-headed of course, though with as much stubble on his head as on his chin and the less said about the state of his teeth the better, sneers. "Fuck off bitch, I ain't squealin'..." Whatever he was going to say next is lost as you start to carve patterns into the headrest of the chair... barehanded. A skull may be a bit too on the nose so you go with a snowflake.

As if you hadn't heard the insult you continue with a pleasant tone and your second best smile. "I have questions about that. You really, really want to make me happy by answering them."

"I... I'm ready to die for the cause, for my people..." he manages to a get out, but you can see the way he strains against the bonds like he is about to try to dive off his chair and crawl off.

Rather than speak you just continue to doodle on the chair and let the waves of cold radiating off him hit him properly. There are words in what he says next, but you are not sure you would call them sentences, more like hate and fear and rage like a scattering of poison barbs,. The pauses get longer and longer, filled with the sound of your nails scraping wood as your eyes never leave his face.

"I have a family... please... please I can't tell you... they'll kill them then the'll kill me."

Part of you wonders if he is telling the truth, feeling some pity for him, after all even Nazis have families while another part of you notes that kind of desperation could make for a devoted servant.. That's... you won't touching how right the thought of having minions feels with a ten foot pole right now.

Instead you split the difference, stopping the carving of the rather nice snowflake if you do so yourself and note: "It does not sound like those people are not very worthy of your loyalty, in fact it does not sound like they would react very well to you returning empty handed at all. Maybe we can help. It can hardly get any worse for you," you slide adroitly between offering some hope and leaning on the threat.

"I... alright." The fear flows out of him like water from a broken glass, all that's left is resignation.

That is how you learn that the tragically misnamed Ace got into 'the cause' by falling in with a street gang in Philadelphia, the kind that sold 'protection' to what it deemed were the right people and vandalized the shops of everyone else. His career as a foot soldier in the latter day armies of a war lost sixty years ago was cut short when he 'heroically' drove into a wall trying to get away to get away from the cops after a botched kidnapping. The crash didn't kill him unlike the other two gang members in the car, but it did mangle his right arm and break his spine in three places. On the third night in the hospital he had a visitor, one who had apparently been impressed by Ace's 'courage' and 'conviction'

A weaver of plots looking for fodder to feed into them, Usum recognizes and you have no reason to doubt him.

The sorcerer Gorefel, had 'brought out his rage' and something about how he describes this part of the story, haltingly in places monosyllabic, makes you think he must have done something messed up even by whatever passes for his standards, but you do not have the time, nor honestly the wish to find out just what it is.

What matters to you is how he describes being recruited into 'The Real Fight' of the Thule Society and and how the Nazis supposedly never really lost the war, but just went underground under the command of 'the Kaiser' who is supposed to be the... like reincarnation of the True Emperor of the World who would rule in a Ten Thousand Year Reich.

You bite back the snarky question if he'd upgraded the number because Hitler said his Reich would last a thousand. It might stop him spilling the beans.

'Pontifex Gorfel' the magician is apparently one of the Old Guard, which is to say he fought in the war, a faction that makes up much though by no means all of the upper echelons of the... international magical Nazi underground. There's a bunch of words that manage to somehow be both very creepy and incredibility stupid.

Of course the higher ups could have lied to Ace about the scope of their organization, you realize. That would have been a good way to keep the goons in line and Ace admits that his was his first big mission alongside Gorfel. "Never knew what was in the bag, didn't need to know, I was there for my hands and my eyes not my brain. Only thing I knew was shoot for the man in white because he was a mutant soldier of the Masonic Order."

Somehow you manage to swallow a laugh at the last 'revelation' from the vicious, absurd, sad little man. "And what of Lictor, who's he?"

"He's one of the New Men, but close to the Kaiser, too close Pontifex Gorfel says, warmed us that he might have men in the city looking for the package, I thought you might be one of his with how... strong you are."

This time you don't bother holding back a snort at the compliment and its source as you turn to Gorfel, about to shake him awake when your dad walks back in. "Marcone's agreed to a drop off of the funds not far from here." He rubs his temples like he is fighting back a headache.

"And what of them?" Brother Divsimar asks, motioning as your prisoners, awake and not.

"I explained that we had been attacked and a rough description of by whom, but I reminded him that none of us here answer to him to keep prisoners in his name."

What do you say?

[] Argue that they might deserve whatever Marcone has planned for them (Manipulation+Empathy; may use Excellency)
-[] Write in stunt

[] You still have a bit more time to try your luck interrogating (Strength+Intimidation or Charisma+Intimidation; may use Excellency)
-[] Write in stunt

[] Write in

OOC: Infernal Exalt is scary, news at eleven. A pity Michael missed it, but someone had to take on Marcone.