Empire Undone--An LGBT Noir
- Thread starter Disparate Dawn
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
- Location
- Europe
[X] Take the mirror and focus on something else
-- [X] Try to identify the splinter of wood
Look, I know they are called the Mirror Marches, but you really shouldn't go there through a mirror. There are other, much safer ways.
-- [X] Try to identify the splinter of wood
Look, I know they are called the Mirror Marches, but you really shouldn't go there through a mirror. There are other, much safer ways.
[X] Take the mirror and focus on something else
--[X] Keep looking around the apartment
--[X] Keep looking around the apartment
Dramatic Personae and Inventory
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
Kept Updated
Dramatic Personae
Inventory
Dramatic Personae
Wizard detective who was once a powerful member of the Arcanum, the organization that rules the magical world. Has since dealt with severe emotional and mental issues from an undisclosed event in his past which caused him to leave. Born in Harare, Zimbabwe in 1985, though he ran away from home at a young age to join the Arcanum. Introspective, intelligent, and thoughtful, though not averse to the occasional bit of humor. Pronouns: he/him/his.
A fellow wizard, though one who is missing, and is as such the current focus of Bongani's investigations. Was apparently a prominent member in the Seattle magical community, and knew everyone who was anyone. Ran away from home at a young age to escape from familial abuse due to homophobia. Pronouns: he/him/his.
Irish-Indian wizard and friend of Joseph who works as a bartender at the club Silver Pulse. Dislikes the Arcanum. A friendly individual who has taken interest in the case, offering to assist in the investigation. Pronouns: he/him/his.
Once a doctor, Chase is a healer who uses their magical skills to keep Mhlanga and their other clients alive and in good shape, while also running an alternative medicinal shop. Pronouns: they/them/theirs.
A friend of Joseph Belor, and the one who first got into contact with Bongani. Pronouns: she/her/hers.
Essentials (Phone, Wallet, Car Keys)
Joseph's Hidden Journal
Full-Body Mirror, Splinter of wood, Silver-Bladed Knife (Located at office)
Pamphlet for Silver Pulse
Magical Artifacts:
Gem used to analyze magical effects
Socks used to slow your fall
Ring used to create magical barriers
Joseph's Hidden Journal
Full-Body Mirror, Splinter of wood, Silver-Bladed Knife (Located at office)
Pamphlet for Silver Pulse
Magical Artifacts:
Gem used to analyze magical effects
Socks used to slow your fall
Ring used to create magical barriers
Last edited:
- Location
- Volksstaat Hessen, Deutsches Reich
[X] Take the mirror and focus on something else
-- [X] Try to identify the splinter of wood
-- [X] Try to identify the splinter of wood
WanderingEye
smol skeleton
[X] Take the mirror and focus on something else
-- [X] Keep looking around the apartment
Let's look around more before doing an Alice
-- [X] Keep looking around the apartment
Let's look around more before doing an Alice
Ultramandalore
Errant Quester
- Location
- just south of Parts Unknown
[X] Go into the mirror
Searching
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
For a moment you step towards the mirror, letting your reflection grow large against you . . . but then you stop, take a moment, and step away. You can't be rash, not now. It won't help anybody. Besides, you imagine that there are still a number of things you could find here. Leave no stone unturned, and all of that.
You step away from the mirror, only returning once you've grabbed a post-it note and written "take this" on it. Satisfied, you move back to the bedroom. More signs of an unexpected departure become clear as you move around the room: a can of coffee lies half-drunk at the desk, on which is Joseph's laptop. You push it open, but it's password protected. That presents a bit of an issue, but you might still be able to find someone to unlock it. Behind the laptop are a collection of framed photos. You pick one up of a man you assume to be Joseph: shorter, blond-haired, green-eyed, probably in his late twenties, a few scars along his chin. He's standing next to Tracy, and from her appearance you guess the photo was taken a few years ago. They're both with an Indian man of the same age, brown-black hair pulled back into a ponytail, neck hidden behind a light green scarf. They're all smiling at the photographer, standing next to the sign for Gas Works Park. The others are fairly normal pictures, graduation photos, family pictures, the like. You doubt they'll be important.
You continue looking around, shuffling through stacks of mail and piles of books that are scattered across the various surfaces of the apartment. You don't find anything, after a while even dispelling your inner eye as the swirling magical auras eventually come to be more annoying than anything else. Something that briefly grabs your attention is a fairly large spot on the bookshelf that is empty, and noticeably clean compared to the dust on the rest of the shelf. There was something there, taken either by Joseph, or by the one who took him.
From that point, you focus on trying to find that item. The first potential for it you find is a yellow pages, but that gets discounted very quickly. Besides, who uses those these days anyways? Then there's a cookbook, at which point you start to think you might be over-analyzing a complete coincidence. After all, Joseph might have simply taken it down earlier and not put it back up on the shelf. So you give up that search, continuing to move around. Finally, you're checking the drawers around the kitchen, just in case, when you come across a unique looking knife, double-edged, and too straight to be anything but a combat knife. The blade is inlaid with a metal, and, operating on a hunch, you cast a weak spell. You feel the energy from the spell get pulled greedily into the metal, dissipating into nothingness. So, a blade made out of silver. Not the most practical of items, unless you were afraid of going up against a mage and wanted to nullify their magic. In which case, very practical. You'd always thought of getting something silver yourself, just in case. And if Joseph was in danger from another mage, then it couldn't hurt to bring something specifically forged to fuck them up.
With that, you lean up, flipping the knife in your hand, only for it to fall. It lands, blade stuck between the floorboards, and as you reach down and pull it back up, you encounter a level of resistance which you wouldn't have expected to. With a grunt and a tug you pull it out, and then you luck down. "Wow. You amazingly clever bastard," you mutter softly, looking down at the book hidden underneath of the floorboards, barely visible thanks to your attention being drawn to it.
You look around for a little while, trying to find a way to get it out normally, but none of the boards are cut so they could move. That makes you smile just a little bit more—they clearly knew their magic. What Joseph did here was actually pretty incredible, a piece of magic which requires very extensive theoretical knowledge, and a fair degree of concentration. Fortunately, both of those are things which you possess yourself.
You raise your hand up and begin to craft the symbol to distort space, the distance between the floorboards slowly increasing, three dimensional space being squeezed apart under your watchful gaze. Eventually, it comes apart just enough, and you reach your hand in and pull the book out, snapping the spell and letting space normalize itself as soon as you can.
The effort of the spell takes a lot out of you, and you have to lean back, breathing hard from it. "Okay Mhlanga, you did it. Take a bit of a break." You check the time, and are surprised to learn that it's already the afternoon. You suppose you had just finished carefully going through the entirety of someone's apartment, but still. The reality of that time is beginning to set in, you feel tired, thirsty, the works. You quickly grab some water, but you feel odd about eating someone else's food, even if they are missing.
"Looks like we're done," you tell yourself, pulling the book close and inspecting it. The tome is thick, a black leather cover traced along with fractals of red, and when you flip it open you find rough pages that are written in Joseph's hand. The journal is densely written, and you imagine it would take you several hours to comb through it. Still, it being hidden meant that Joseph knew who was coming after him, and that this was worth hiding.
At the same time, you still have a number of options. You have the mirror and the piece of wood. You could always go back to your office, drop things off and pick up any useful gear. It'll also serve as a good place to store items like the mirror, the shard of wood, and the like to be investigated further at any later time. You could go to the Silver Pulse—it'll be opening in a few hours, and the staff should be getting ready for the night now. You know a place where you could get the shard of wood looked at—an enchantress in town who might be able to tell you more than you already know. You could go to any of these places and keep the book on hand, in fact, you'll probably do so. There might even be other possibilities which you aren't thinking of at the moment.
[] Go into the mirror
[] Go back to the office
[] Go to Silver Pulse
[] Go to enchantress
[] Other (write-in)
You step away from the mirror, only returning once you've grabbed a post-it note and written "take this" on it. Satisfied, you move back to the bedroom. More signs of an unexpected departure become clear as you move around the room: a can of coffee lies half-drunk at the desk, on which is Joseph's laptop. You push it open, but it's password protected. That presents a bit of an issue, but you might still be able to find someone to unlock it. Behind the laptop are a collection of framed photos. You pick one up of a man you assume to be Joseph: shorter, blond-haired, green-eyed, probably in his late twenties, a few scars along his chin. He's standing next to Tracy, and from her appearance you guess the photo was taken a few years ago. They're both with an Indian man of the same age, brown-black hair pulled back into a ponytail, neck hidden behind a light green scarf. They're all smiling at the photographer, standing next to the sign for Gas Works Park. The others are fairly normal pictures, graduation photos, family pictures, the like. You doubt they'll be important.
You continue looking around, shuffling through stacks of mail and piles of books that are scattered across the various surfaces of the apartment. You don't find anything, after a while even dispelling your inner eye as the swirling magical auras eventually come to be more annoying than anything else. Something that briefly grabs your attention is a fairly large spot on the bookshelf that is empty, and noticeably clean compared to the dust on the rest of the shelf. There was something there, taken either by Joseph, or by the one who took him.
From that point, you focus on trying to find that item. The first potential for it you find is a yellow pages, but that gets discounted very quickly. Besides, who uses those these days anyways? Then there's a cookbook, at which point you start to think you might be over-analyzing a complete coincidence. After all, Joseph might have simply taken it down earlier and not put it back up on the shelf. So you give up that search, continuing to move around. Finally, you're checking the drawers around the kitchen, just in case, when you come across a unique looking knife, double-edged, and too straight to be anything but a combat knife. The blade is inlaid with a metal, and, operating on a hunch, you cast a weak spell. You feel the energy from the spell get pulled greedily into the metal, dissipating into nothingness. So, a blade made out of silver. Not the most practical of items, unless you were afraid of going up against a mage and wanted to nullify their magic. In which case, very practical. You'd always thought of getting something silver yourself, just in case. And if Joseph was in danger from another mage, then it couldn't hurt to bring something specifically forged to fuck them up.
With that, you lean up, flipping the knife in your hand, only for it to fall. It lands, blade stuck between the floorboards, and as you reach down and pull it back up, you encounter a level of resistance which you wouldn't have expected to. With a grunt and a tug you pull it out, and then you luck down. "Wow. You amazingly clever bastard," you mutter softly, looking down at the book hidden underneath of the floorboards, barely visible thanks to your attention being drawn to it.
You look around for a little while, trying to find a way to get it out normally, but none of the boards are cut so they could move. That makes you smile just a little bit more—they clearly knew their magic. What Joseph did here was actually pretty incredible, a piece of magic which requires very extensive theoretical knowledge, and a fair degree of concentration. Fortunately, both of those are things which you possess yourself.
You raise your hand up and begin to craft the symbol to distort space, the distance between the floorboards slowly increasing, three dimensional space being squeezed apart under your watchful gaze. Eventually, it comes apart just enough, and you reach your hand in and pull the book out, snapping the spell and letting space normalize itself as soon as you can.
The effort of the spell takes a lot out of you, and you have to lean back, breathing hard from it. "Okay Mhlanga, you did it. Take a bit of a break." You check the time, and are surprised to learn that it's already the afternoon. You suppose you had just finished carefully going through the entirety of someone's apartment, but still. The reality of that time is beginning to set in, you feel tired, thirsty, the works. You quickly grab some water, but you feel odd about eating someone else's food, even if they are missing.
"Looks like we're done," you tell yourself, pulling the book close and inspecting it. The tome is thick, a black leather cover traced along with fractals of red, and when you flip it open you find rough pages that are written in Joseph's hand. The journal is densely written, and you imagine it would take you several hours to comb through it. Still, it being hidden meant that Joseph knew who was coming after him, and that this was worth hiding.
At the same time, you still have a number of options. You have the mirror and the piece of wood. You could always go back to your office, drop things off and pick up any useful gear. It'll also serve as a good place to store items like the mirror, the shard of wood, and the like to be investigated further at any later time. You could go to the Silver Pulse—it'll be opening in a few hours, and the staff should be getting ready for the night now. You know a place where you could get the shard of wood looked at—an enchantress in town who might be able to tell you more than you already know. You could go to any of these places and keep the book on hand, in fact, you'll probably do so. There might even be other possibilities which you aren't thinking of at the moment.
[] Go into the mirror
[] Go back to the office
[] Go to Silver Pulse
[] Go to enchantress
[] Other (write-in)
Last edited:
Ultramandalore
Errant Quester
- Location
- just south of Parts Unknown
[X] Go into the mirror
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
Knew there was something I'd forgotten in the update. Thanks for bringing that up--the mirror can be investigated with tools that you have at the office.
WanderingEye
smol skeleton
[X] Go back to the office
We could always go to the enchantress later I suppose.
We could always go to the enchantress later I suppose.
[X] Go back to the office
Home Sweet Home
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
It takes you a while to get back to your office—in particular because you end up taking a rather circuitous route there, making your way around the location where you know there to be an Arcanum safehouse. You're fairly certain that you wouldn't actually cause problems, you certainly haven't been using any forbidden magics, but at the same time you don't want to come up on their radar. Any more than you already are—you're fairly certain that they've kept tabs on you, but you hope they aren't being too meticulous. The image of an Enforcer showing up at your door has featured in plenty of your nightmares. You know it wouldn't be the most logical thing to happen, but Enforcers weren't always that logical.
A few people give you odd looks as you enter the large building your office is inside of, carrying a mirror, a large book, and a plastic baggy in your arms. They don't ask you about it, thankfully. They're used to your madness.
You manage to get to your office, a fairly spacious one located on the third floor, without any issues, placing the mirror in the corner and setting yourself down behind your desk. There are a number of letters and papers scattered across your desk, and you take a moment to rummage through them all. Most are spam, but you do find the I-90 you'd been working on. You take a little while to work on that while cooling down from your magic use earlier—you've still got a month or two before you'll really need to be taking it seriously, but you really don't want to risk your green card. Not to mention that it's actually a nice distraction, a nice little bit of mundanity. While you're thumbing through documents and jotting down numbers you also cook up some microwavable veggies and have a very light lunch, exceptionally thankful that you put in the mini-fridge. Then, somewhat better fed and focused, you set to work.
There's a safe in the corner of your office, and you open it up, revealing a small collection of magical artifacts you've gathered over the years. Channeling the emotional connection of the one who wielded them to cast prescribed spells, they've served you well over the years. The first you pull out is a gift from your old mentor, one that had been passed down through her line for generations, a sapphire that would clip onto a surface and gradually pull apart nearby enchantments and relay their information to you. You go ahead and place it on the mirror, watching as its interior clouds. It'll probably take a dozen or so hours, but after the jewel was done you'd be able to carefully examine every single thing another wizard had done to it. Not to mention it allowed you to take a break from using magic. The more you used, the more frequently people used magic, the closer they got to their emotions, and you don't feel particularly comfortable with your emotions at the moment. Haven't for a long time.
With that done, you pad back over to the safe. This investigation, you have a feeling it could get hairy at some point in the future. May not at the same time, but if another magic user was trying to kill Joseph, you get the feeling you might come under threat in the future. You'd rather avoid it though. Thinking those things through, you also pull out your lucky pair of socks, the ones you first interviewed with the Arcanum for, which you'd enchanted will very, very drunk. Still, they slowed your fall no matter the distance fallen, which on rare occasions had come in handy. Alongside those, you also pick up . . .
[ ] A ring given to you by your partner when you were in the Arcanum one which allowed you to summon barriers, whether to defend yourself, attack your foes, or anywhere in between. Really, even you're surprised by the versatility of it.
[ ] A pair of eyeglasses, old and just a bit cramped these days. They'd been your mother's reading glasses, and now they work much like binoculars, though you can see the remnants of spells, people's auras, and half a dozen other normally invisible things.
[ ] A faded leather glove that had belonged to your first boyfriend, and that he'd not bothered picking up after you'd broken up with him. Not only was it comfy, but you could also tell the general emotional states of those around you when you wore it. Only general states, though. Otherwise it gets creepy.
Once you've grabbed your artifact, you retrieve Joseph's journal, flipping through the pages while eating the last bits of food. Most of it is what you expect, discussions of the daily goings on in his life (turns out Joseph is a mechanic by trade, that his parents live in Oregon, and that he tries to run daily), but you stop on one page.
"Henry says that an old member of the Arcanum moved into town," you read aloud slowly. "Some guy named Mhlanga. Henry doesn't think he'll be a problem. A bit on edge about it, but I trust his gut. I guess we'll see." You look at the date when this was written—several years ago, when you first arrived in Seattle. You shudder, biting into your fist. Explains how they knew you were a wizard, but if they knew . . . and how did they know? "Things just got more complicated."
You flip to the back of the book. "Henry was quite today. The sort of way he gets when he knows something bad is about to happen. He asked me to tell Abhilash. Of course, he didn't take things well, because god forbid my friends appreciate when I try to help them. We're still on at the Silver Pulse, tonight, though. Don't think I've ever seen him so excited to get a job. Hopefully we'll patch things up there." That was dated three days ago. The bad thing Joseph talked about—his kidnapping? "But how would Henry, whoever he is, know that?"
It sticks to you, the warning. You've seen the likes of it before, back when you worked for the Arcanum, but this couldn't be the same sort of thing.
You check the time when you finish reading: it's five-thirty in the evening, and you can feel exhaustion and excitement stirring together into a deadly cocktail. It's too late now for going to the enchantress. In all honesty, you don't see a lot of options now. You could call it a night, try and get some rest, but that might just end up wasting time. You could go to the Silver Pulse, but even if this Abhilash fellow is there, he may not want to talk to you. You also suppose you could call Tracy and try to find out how to get in touch with Henry, but he already knows a lot about you, and you aren't sure you're comfortable with talking to someone who has leverage of that sort on you. You look out your window, and see the sun, starting to set in the fall sky. The night could always bring you opportunities.
[ ] Call it a night.
[ ] Go to the club, try and talk to Abhilash.
[ ] Call Tracy Uin, try and get in touch with Henry.
A few people give you odd looks as you enter the large building your office is inside of, carrying a mirror, a large book, and a plastic baggy in your arms. They don't ask you about it, thankfully. They're used to your madness.
You manage to get to your office, a fairly spacious one located on the third floor, without any issues, placing the mirror in the corner and setting yourself down behind your desk. There are a number of letters and papers scattered across your desk, and you take a moment to rummage through them all. Most are spam, but you do find the I-90 you'd been working on. You take a little while to work on that while cooling down from your magic use earlier—you've still got a month or two before you'll really need to be taking it seriously, but you really don't want to risk your green card. Not to mention that it's actually a nice distraction, a nice little bit of mundanity. While you're thumbing through documents and jotting down numbers you also cook up some microwavable veggies and have a very light lunch, exceptionally thankful that you put in the mini-fridge. Then, somewhat better fed and focused, you set to work.
There's a safe in the corner of your office, and you open it up, revealing a small collection of magical artifacts you've gathered over the years. Channeling the emotional connection of the one who wielded them to cast prescribed spells, they've served you well over the years. The first you pull out is a gift from your old mentor, one that had been passed down through her line for generations, a sapphire that would clip onto a surface and gradually pull apart nearby enchantments and relay their information to you. You go ahead and place it on the mirror, watching as its interior clouds. It'll probably take a dozen or so hours, but after the jewel was done you'd be able to carefully examine every single thing another wizard had done to it. Not to mention it allowed you to take a break from using magic. The more you used, the more frequently people used magic, the closer they got to their emotions, and you don't feel particularly comfortable with your emotions at the moment. Haven't for a long time.
With that done, you pad back over to the safe. This investigation, you have a feeling it could get hairy at some point in the future. May not at the same time, but if another magic user was trying to kill Joseph, you get the feeling you might come under threat in the future. You'd rather avoid it though. Thinking those things through, you also pull out your lucky pair of socks, the ones you first interviewed with the Arcanum for, which you'd enchanted will very, very drunk. Still, they slowed your fall no matter the distance fallen, which on rare occasions had come in handy. Alongside those, you also pick up . . .
[ ] A ring given to you by your partner when you were in the Arcanum one which allowed you to summon barriers, whether to defend yourself, attack your foes, or anywhere in between. Really, even you're surprised by the versatility of it.
[ ] A pair of eyeglasses, old and just a bit cramped these days. They'd been your mother's reading glasses, and now they work much like binoculars, though you can see the remnants of spells, people's auras, and half a dozen other normally invisible things.
[ ] A faded leather glove that had belonged to your first boyfriend, and that he'd not bothered picking up after you'd broken up with him. Not only was it comfy, but you could also tell the general emotional states of those around you when you wore it. Only general states, though. Otherwise it gets creepy.
Once you've grabbed your artifact, you retrieve Joseph's journal, flipping through the pages while eating the last bits of food. Most of it is what you expect, discussions of the daily goings on in his life (turns out Joseph is a mechanic by trade, that his parents live in Oregon, and that he tries to run daily), but you stop on one page.
"Henry says that an old member of the Arcanum moved into town," you read aloud slowly. "Some guy named Mhlanga. Henry doesn't think he'll be a problem. A bit on edge about it, but I trust his gut. I guess we'll see." You look at the date when this was written—several years ago, when you first arrived in Seattle. You shudder, biting into your fist. Explains how they knew you were a wizard, but if they knew . . . and how did they know? "Things just got more complicated."
You flip to the back of the book. "Henry was quite today. The sort of way he gets when he knows something bad is about to happen. He asked me to tell Abhilash. Of course, he didn't take things well, because god forbid my friends appreciate when I try to help them. We're still on at the Silver Pulse, tonight, though. Don't think I've ever seen him so excited to get a job. Hopefully we'll patch things up there." That was dated three days ago. The bad thing Joseph talked about—his kidnapping? "But how would Henry, whoever he is, know that?"
It sticks to you, the warning. You've seen the likes of it before, back when you worked for the Arcanum, but this couldn't be the same sort of thing.
You check the time when you finish reading: it's five-thirty in the evening, and you can feel exhaustion and excitement stirring together into a deadly cocktail. It's too late now for going to the enchantress. In all honesty, you don't see a lot of options now. You could call it a night, try and get some rest, but that might just end up wasting time. You could go to the Silver Pulse, but even if this Abhilash fellow is there, he may not want to talk to you. You also suppose you could call Tracy and try to find out how to get in touch with Henry, but he already knows a lot about you, and you aren't sure you're comfortable with talking to someone who has leverage of that sort on you. You look out your window, and see the sun, starting to set in the fall sky. The night could always bring you opportunities.
[ ] Call it a night.
[ ] Go to the club, try and talk to Abhilash.
[ ] Call Tracy Uin, try and get in touch with Henry.
WanderingEye
smol skeleton
[X] A ring given to you by your partner when you were in the Arcanum one which allowed you to summon barriers, whether to defend yourself, attack your foes, or anywhere in between. Really, even you're surprised by the versatility of it.
[X] Go to the club, try and talk to Abhilash.
Barriers are great
[X] Go to the club, try and talk to Abhilash.
Barriers are great
- Pronouns
- She/Her
How'd I miss this
In terms of our item, I kind of don't want something that is more likely to get us caught in fights; I'm a conservative kind of woman and prefer to play things more cautiously, and I think the eyeglasses work pretty well for that; they allow for us to pick up on non-circumstantial clues that we otherwise wouldn't see, potentially avoid traps (through sensing spell remnants or other invisible traces, potentially), and other clues that we could easily miss.
I'm honestly inclined to take a mild risk and call it a night here. I don't think that giving Tracy more leverage is that smart an idea at this point until we have more information, and I don't think that Abhilish is going to give us much info at the moment; overall I think that we need to know more before we start pursuing these leads, getting the rough data like we have is advantageous enough. Let's call it a night and see where that takes us.
[X] A pair of eyeglasses, old and just a bit cramped these days. They'd been your mother's reading glasses, and now they work much like binoculars, though you can see the remnants of spells, people's auras, and half a dozen other normally invisible things.
[X] Call it a night.
In terms of our item, I kind of don't want something that is more likely to get us caught in fights; I'm a conservative kind of woman and prefer to play things more cautiously, and I think the eyeglasses work pretty well for that; they allow for us to pick up on non-circumstantial clues that we otherwise wouldn't see, potentially avoid traps (through sensing spell remnants or other invisible traces, potentially), and other clues that we could easily miss.
I'm honestly inclined to take a mild risk and call it a night here. I don't think that giving Tracy more leverage is that smart an idea at this point until we have more information, and I don't think that Abhilish is going to give us much info at the moment; overall I think that we need to know more before we start pursuing these leads, getting the rough data like we have is advantageous enough. Let's call it a night and see where that takes us.
[X] A pair of eyeglasses, old and just a bit cramped these days. They'd been your mother's reading glasses, and now they work much like binoculars, though you can see the remnants of spells, people's auras, and half a dozen other normally invisible things.
[X] Call it a night.
[X] A pair of eyeglasses, old and just a bit cramped these days. They'd been your mother's reading glasses, and now they work much like binoculars, though you can see the remnants of spells, people's auras, and half a dozen other normally invisible things.
[X] Go to the club, try and talk to Abhilash.
Lets see what we can see
[X] Go to the club, try and talk to Abhilash.
Lets see what we can see
[X] A pair of eyeglasses, old and just a bit cramped these days. They'd been your mother's reading glasses, and now they work much like binoculars, though you can see the remnants of spells, people's auras, and half a dozen other normally invisible things.
[X] Go to the club, try and talk to Abhilash.
[X] Go to the club, try and talk to Abhilash.
MariBari
Lackadaisical Content Creator
- Location
- Wisconsin
[X] A ring given to you by your partner when you were in the Arcanum one which allowed you to summon barriers, whether to defend yourself, attack your foes, or anywhere in between. Really, even you're surprised by the versatility of it.
[X] Go to the club, try and talk to Abhilash.
I'm hoping that versatility is going to be key here.
[X] Go to the club, try and talk to Abhilash.
I'm hoping that versatility is going to be key here.
Ultramandalore
Errant Quester
- Location
- just south of Parts Unknown
[X] A ring given to you by your partner when you were in the Arcanum one which allowed you to summon barriers, whether to defend yourself, attack your foes, or anywhere in between. Really, even you're surprised by the versatility of it.
[X] Call it a night.
[X] Call it a night.
Silver Pulse
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
You grab your ring, slip it on your middle finger, and grab your keys. The journal, splinter, and—after you decide that bringing a knife to a club isn't the best idea—knife all go into the safe. You take a short moment to freshen up before hand, and then head out.
It takes you about half an hour to get to Silver Pulse—while it's located closeby, nestled within the downtown area, that also means that its too close to justify driving to, especially once you factor in trying to park. You end up arriving at a squat building near Occidental Square a little bit after the sun has set. There are a few people out front, but it's obvious that today isn't a busy day for them. Deciding that bodes well for you, you head inside, the bouncer giving you a nod after a short, appraising look at your ID.
The first thing that hits you about the club is how it, oddly, smells like oranges. The interior is mostly scattered tables, with a long bar on one side of the room and a wall mirror on the other, all barely illuminated by purple and blue lights strung along the walls. It's all very kitsch, if you're being honest. At the far end is a raised portion, likely for any performers. There are a few people chatting at the tables, sipping from their drinks. You look to the bar, and notice the man from Joshua's photos, who you figure is Abhilash. He's certainly grown in the time since the picture was taken, his lanky frame obscuring a cabinet behind him. His hair is a bit shorter now, and curls lightly dyed green are matched by a thin green scarf he's wearing, tucked into a black collared shirt. You take a moment between seeing that and approaching him in order to avoid the urge to swoon. This really isn't the time to start crushing on someone.
You begin to school yourself, but as you do so he notices you. "Can I help you?" he asks, voice soft and low. He sounds tired. Still, he gives you a small, cordial smile as you approach. He speaks again as you reach the bar: "What's your poison?"
"Shirley Temple. And, can I ask you some questions? You are Abhilash, aren't you?"
". . . yes?" he says, voice slowly rising, alongside an eyebrow. After a moment, he sighed. "You're the guy Tracy was thinking of hiring, aren't you? Guess she got her wish. Here, I'll start working on that Temple, and then we can chat." You nod and watch as he moves around the bar. When he returns you take a small sip before you speak again. He's looking at you intensely, and there is anxiety evident beneath his brown eyes.
"I just want to ask you a couple of questions. You don't mind if I record this, do you?" He waves in acceptance, and you quickly set your phone up for that, thankful that it's still so early in the night that music hasn't started playing. "Now, Uin said that the last time she saw Joseph three days ago. Is that also the case for you?"
"Yeah, at the same time as her. It was just the three of us—we've been friends for years. It was a bit tense though."
"Tense? Are you referring to Henry?"
"Oh, yeah. One of our other friends. He and I had some . . . issues recently." There's a bitterness just barely keeping out of his words. "Joseph and Tracy got caught in the middle of it. Pretty sure it isn't related to Joseph though."
"Okay. Now, is there anywhere that Joseph might go. Other friends or family he might be with that he forgot to tell you all about?" You feel silly asking that; after all, you know that someone was going after him. Still, on the off chance he had escaped, it's entirely possible he may have gone to hide out with someone, kept communications silent to keep information from spreading.
"He has a number of friends. He's liked helping people, always has. That said, we were by far his closest friends, the others were more of acquaintances, really. As for his family, he never liked to talk about them. They threw him out in the early 2000s. Homophobia. As far as I know, they haven't changed."
That narrows the options considerably. Still, you can't help but feel empathetic to Joseph's plight. "My family was similar," you admit. "Ran away from home when I was young because of it." You leave out that you also left because you were offered an apprenticeship in the Arcanum, and that sounded more ideal than spending another minute at home. It seemed a bit extraneous. Still, Abhilash reaches over the counter and grips your shoulder warmly. You appreciate the gesture, even if its a bit personal for you. Besides, you've still got some ground to cover. "Now, when did you both meet?"
"A few years back. There's a group of us, you know, magic users." His voice drops just a little there, and you plan to follow suit. "The two of us met there. After that, we kept on spending more and more time together. If you don't mind me asking, how come I've never seen you there?"
"Didn't know it existed."
"Really? We've got a Facebook page and all that."
"That's . . ." you have to stop for a moment there. "That's such a breach of secrecy that I can't even begin to describe. Telling a friend was risky, but that—"
He laughs—giggles—at the statement. "You serious here. I haven't seen anyone outside of the Arcanum get concerned about that sort of shit. Besides, with the rise of neopaganism, with all the curious young kids and the rise in fantasy, no one pays attention to this sort of thing. I could go on for hours about spells and people would think I'm talking about Dungeons and Dragons."
"I—it's reflexive."
"Oh?" He gives you an inquisitive look as he speaks, one which you ignore.
"One last question: anyone you know who would want to cause trouble with him?"
"A few. He was probably the person most connected to the local magical community I know of—knew everybody, all the local debates. You inevitably get people that disagree with you or don't particularly like you. But, if you're suggesting someone hurt him or scared him off, I can't think of anyone who would do that. He was always open to us, but he never told us about anyone causing problems. Now, before you finish your drink, can I ask you a question?" You nod. "How can I keep in touch with you? In case you have some more questions, or I find something else to tell you."
"Oh, here." Retrieving your business card, you flick it over to him and finish your drink. You aren't actually a huge fun of Shirley Temples, but it wasn't alcoholic and you're on the job. You're looking at the bottom of the glass when you hear Abhilash swear. You look up to see him staring at you with wide eyes. "What?"
"I recognized your name. Henry told us about you years ago—I was so afraid when he had." The journal, you remember with a start. "Get out." You freeze for a moment there: you don't like hearing people be scared, you want him available as a contact, and you don't want to be remembered as a member of the Arcanum. And yet that clashes fiercely against the pain, the fear, and the anger all held within his voice. For a moment you try and think of what to do, before eventually deciding:
[ ] Just walk away. If he's in pain then maybe you should acquiesce to his wishes.
[ ] Take the card back.
[ ] Leave the card with him.
[ ] "I understand, and I'll go. But please, call me if you need to tell me anything."
[ ] "I'm trying to help find Joseph, do you not want that?"
[ ] You've noticed that he seems a bit inquisitive, maybe being honest is the best policy right now. "I had once been with the Arcanum yes, but I left a long time ago because I came to hate my time there . . ." (S)
(A/N): The (S) at the end of an option signifies that it is due to your Social stat exceeding the required amount for that option to be available. While not always the most 'optimal' choice, it is nevertheless available due to previous choices, which should be taken into account. The symbols (P) and (K) will also appear for those choices obtained due to your statistics in Physical and Knowledge respectively.
It takes you about half an hour to get to Silver Pulse—while it's located closeby, nestled within the downtown area, that also means that its too close to justify driving to, especially once you factor in trying to park. You end up arriving at a squat building near Occidental Square a little bit after the sun has set. There are a few people out front, but it's obvious that today isn't a busy day for them. Deciding that bodes well for you, you head inside, the bouncer giving you a nod after a short, appraising look at your ID.
The first thing that hits you about the club is how it, oddly, smells like oranges. The interior is mostly scattered tables, with a long bar on one side of the room and a wall mirror on the other, all barely illuminated by purple and blue lights strung along the walls. It's all very kitsch, if you're being honest. At the far end is a raised portion, likely for any performers. There are a few people chatting at the tables, sipping from their drinks. You look to the bar, and notice the man from Joshua's photos, who you figure is Abhilash. He's certainly grown in the time since the picture was taken, his lanky frame obscuring a cabinet behind him. His hair is a bit shorter now, and curls lightly dyed green are matched by a thin green scarf he's wearing, tucked into a black collared shirt. You take a moment between seeing that and approaching him in order to avoid the urge to swoon. This really isn't the time to start crushing on someone.
You begin to school yourself, but as you do so he notices you. "Can I help you?" he asks, voice soft and low. He sounds tired. Still, he gives you a small, cordial smile as you approach. He speaks again as you reach the bar: "What's your poison?"
"Shirley Temple. And, can I ask you some questions? You are Abhilash, aren't you?"
". . . yes?" he says, voice slowly rising, alongside an eyebrow. After a moment, he sighed. "You're the guy Tracy was thinking of hiring, aren't you? Guess she got her wish. Here, I'll start working on that Temple, and then we can chat." You nod and watch as he moves around the bar. When he returns you take a small sip before you speak again. He's looking at you intensely, and there is anxiety evident beneath his brown eyes.
"I just want to ask you a couple of questions. You don't mind if I record this, do you?" He waves in acceptance, and you quickly set your phone up for that, thankful that it's still so early in the night that music hasn't started playing. "Now, Uin said that the last time she saw Joseph three days ago. Is that also the case for you?"
"Yeah, at the same time as her. It was just the three of us—we've been friends for years. It was a bit tense though."
"Tense? Are you referring to Henry?"
"Oh, yeah. One of our other friends. He and I had some . . . issues recently." There's a bitterness just barely keeping out of his words. "Joseph and Tracy got caught in the middle of it. Pretty sure it isn't related to Joseph though."
"Okay. Now, is there anywhere that Joseph might go. Other friends or family he might be with that he forgot to tell you all about?" You feel silly asking that; after all, you know that someone was going after him. Still, on the off chance he had escaped, it's entirely possible he may have gone to hide out with someone, kept communications silent to keep information from spreading.
"He has a number of friends. He's liked helping people, always has. That said, we were by far his closest friends, the others were more of acquaintances, really. As for his family, he never liked to talk about them. They threw him out in the early 2000s. Homophobia. As far as I know, they haven't changed."
That narrows the options considerably. Still, you can't help but feel empathetic to Joseph's plight. "My family was similar," you admit. "Ran away from home when I was young because of it." You leave out that you also left because you were offered an apprenticeship in the Arcanum, and that sounded more ideal than spending another minute at home. It seemed a bit extraneous. Still, Abhilash reaches over the counter and grips your shoulder warmly. You appreciate the gesture, even if its a bit personal for you. Besides, you've still got some ground to cover. "Now, when did you both meet?"
"A few years back. There's a group of us, you know, magic users." His voice drops just a little there, and you plan to follow suit. "The two of us met there. After that, we kept on spending more and more time together. If you don't mind me asking, how come I've never seen you there?"
"Didn't know it existed."
"Really? We've got a Facebook page and all that."
"That's . . ." you have to stop for a moment there. "That's such a breach of secrecy that I can't even begin to describe. Telling a friend was risky, but that—"
He laughs—giggles—at the statement. "You serious here. I haven't seen anyone outside of the Arcanum get concerned about that sort of shit. Besides, with the rise of neopaganism, with all the curious young kids and the rise in fantasy, no one pays attention to this sort of thing. I could go on for hours about spells and people would think I'm talking about Dungeons and Dragons."
"I—it's reflexive."
"Oh?" He gives you an inquisitive look as he speaks, one which you ignore.
"One last question: anyone you know who would want to cause trouble with him?"
"A few. He was probably the person most connected to the local magical community I know of—knew everybody, all the local debates. You inevitably get people that disagree with you or don't particularly like you. But, if you're suggesting someone hurt him or scared him off, I can't think of anyone who would do that. He was always open to us, but he never told us about anyone causing problems. Now, before you finish your drink, can I ask you a question?" You nod. "How can I keep in touch with you? In case you have some more questions, or I find something else to tell you."
"Oh, here." Retrieving your business card, you flick it over to him and finish your drink. You aren't actually a huge fun of Shirley Temples, but it wasn't alcoholic and you're on the job. You're looking at the bottom of the glass when you hear Abhilash swear. You look up to see him staring at you with wide eyes. "What?"
"I recognized your name. Henry told us about you years ago—I was so afraid when he had." The journal, you remember with a start. "Get out." You freeze for a moment there: you don't like hearing people be scared, you want him available as a contact, and you don't want to be remembered as a member of the Arcanum. And yet that clashes fiercely against the pain, the fear, and the anger all held within his voice. For a moment you try and think of what to do, before eventually deciding:
[ ] Just walk away. If he's in pain then maybe you should acquiesce to his wishes.
[ ] Take the card back.
[ ] Leave the card with him.
[ ] "I understand, and I'll go. But please, call me if you need to tell me anything."
[ ] "I'm trying to help find Joseph, do you not want that?"
[ ] You've noticed that he seems a bit inquisitive, maybe being honest is the best policy right now. "I had once been with the Arcanum yes, but I left a long time ago because I came to hate my time there . . ." (S)
(A/N): The (S) at the end of an option signifies that it is due to your Social stat exceeding the required amount for that option to be available. While not always the most 'optimal' choice, it is nevertheless available due to previous choices, which should be taken into account. The symbols (P) and (K) will also appear for those choices obtained due to your statistics in Physical and Knowledge respectively.
Last edited:
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] You've noticed that he seems a bit inquisitive, maybe being honest is the best policy right now. "I had once been with the Arcanum yes, but I left a long time ago because I came to hate my time there . . ."
I definitely think that honesty is the best policy here- we really don't want to alienate a potential contact, and it's likely we can elaborate enough without necessarily revealing all the details that our narrative is believable enough to convince him that we can at least somewhat be trusted, which is really all we'll need. And it'll do good for us to not somebody hate our guts for a misunderstanding that isn't at the core our fault.
I definitely think that honesty is the best policy here- we really don't want to alienate a potential contact, and it's likely we can elaborate enough without necessarily revealing all the details that our narrative is believable enough to convince him that we can at least somewhat be trusted, which is really all we'll need. And it'll do good for us to not somebody hate our guts for a misunderstanding that isn't at the core our fault.