Graycloak and Old Gimlet Eye
New York isn't an old city. It's a place without the domains and the claims of thousands of overlapping little beings, the residue of belief and strife ingrained into the fabric of the city. It is, in short, akin to few other places on the planet. When the Warden comes into the city it's as if his senses weren't stifled, as if an internal radar system simply ceased to ping contacts.
New York is large, bustling, and filled with mortals - and yet there are few claims to the city. Yet.
Near the Brooklyn Navy Yard is a bar which fittingly enough gets most of its mortal custom from the military. The bottom floor is all cheap furniture, cheaper booze, and half-drunk off-duty sailors in the middle of the day. The barkeep takes one look at the hooded gray cloak and the slim tube the Warden bears, and nods at the stairs.
Accorded Neutral Ground reads the certificate next to the bar license, and the barkeep likes to think it's because there are so few Marine-Navy barfights in his tavern.
The Warden is greeted by a slim man in flowing robes, Asian in appearance and with not a hair out of place as he waits next to another in an ill-fitting suit. The other man at the only occupied table has a sandwich in one hand and another tapping the wood as he waits, thin face and receding hairline making him look vaguely out of place among the other two.
The others - the Warden and the Asian - nod at one another as the latter speaks softly in unaccented English, "I have been named as the mediator here. The deed is after all, in my domain."
"Loosely." The Warden sits with blade in easy reach and eyes on the other two, and his growled reply is met with a gentle nod.
"Very well. We move to the heart of the matter, then." The Asian man's nose wrinkles a little, "I would prefer to leave soonest."
The American snorts and takes a big bite of the sandwich while waiting for the Warden to speak, and the Englishman in the gray cloak does so with palpable anger. "General. Your idiots have done the
unthinkable in China. The balance of power is teetering in Asia as it is, and your little assassin has destabilized it."
"Mm." The general swallows and seems to consider the words for a moment, "
If what I've been told is true, then my agent did what was needed. You know, your man failed to track that thing. We killed it."
"You
bound it. With a city god that we left asleep
for good reason." The Warden's glare and anger are shrugged off with the experience of three decades and more in the military, and the general takes it all in stride.
"We did what was needed. You want to make us pull out of China, you take it up with the President." The general shrugs and goes back to his sandwich, and the Warden seems almost apoplectic.
"
Listen here, general." The blade almost comes out before the Asian man's eyes gleam bright flame-red, and the Warden continues more with speech than naked force. "The United States is not an Accorded entity. The Black Chamber is not an Accorded entity. You are, at present, protected by the aegis of the White Council. Don't make us change that, not now. Not with what stirs in Europe."
That gets the general to set the half-eaten sandwich down. Two gimlet eyes stare back at the Warden and pin him to his seat, "Listen here, English. We are
not fucking around here. You want to remove that aegis? So be it. Do it." A grin flashes across that face, "If you want the United States to shop around for allies, well, that's a great way to it. What's coming is something that we need to prepare for, we're not sitting pretty waiting for you to move."
"So what would satisfy the government?" The words are ground out and the calmness of the Warden clearly a facade, as the general opposite laughs at the question.
"Get out of the way." He starts ticking off points on his fingers, "One, we have the Japs making super soldiers in China, which you don't give a damn about. Two, we have the Germans dabbling in Kemmler, which you haven't dealt with. Three, we have that...fracas...in India, and your Senior Council aren't going
near Kedarnath since then. We have-"
He gets cut off by the Asian, calm voice cutting the tension. "That will be enough, General. We are not here to discuss the policy of the American government. We are here to discuss what is to be done in China."
"I submit that the U.S. pulls its occult units out. We need no more interference."
The general replies to the Warden with a flat
no, and the talks go from there. Things remain tense, the threat of Wardens pulling out of the U.S. met with laughter. "You actually had
people here? Damn, we never noticed 'em."
The Warden gets up and leaves as the general stands to go, and leaves with a warning. "You think it's easy now, general, but mortals getting involved never ends well. You are powerless unless in numbers, and the veil is best left alone."
"I think, Warden Morgan, that you're a bit behind the times." The general shakes hands and walks out alongside him, "I think you remember the Red vampires, eh? President's sending the
Colorado to show the flag in the Caribbean, and maybe fire off a few rounds."
"Which won't help, General Butler. Leave things alone."
"We have a duty, Warden. Defense of the homeland, that's the one war I can get behind. So get out of the way, or do your damn job."
AN: Interlude: Your actions have sparked more tension between Wardens and the Black Chamber. Smedley Butler isn't backing down on the whole 'occult defense of the homeland' angle, either. 
