- Location
- Scotland
[X] Calm yourself. Keep in mind how he wanted to stay informed. You could at least tell him something. If he has what the Arcanum is looking for, even if it's only the smallest chance, then he should probably know.
Empire Undone--An LGBT Noir
- Thread starter Disparate Dawn
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Guys, we're recovering from a concussion and supposed to avoid stressful situations. I really don't think that talking to something like him when we both likely aren't going to have total control over what we say (concussions can do that) and something that will raise our stress level is the way to go. I'm voting backing out. If we want to play conservatively, we should play conservatively.
[X] Grab medicine, pay, leave. Quickly.
[X] Grab medicine, pay, leave. Quickly.
Ultramandalore
Errant Quester
- Location
- just south of Parts Unknown
[X] Calm yourself. Keep in mind how he wanted to stay informed. You could at least tell him something. If he has what the Arcanum is looking for, even if it's only the smallest chance, then he should probably know.
- Location
- Somewhere.
[X] Grab medicine, pay, leave.
-[X] If noticed, say you were recently concussed and are supposed to be resting and recovering, avoiding stress, so you don't really have much to report right now. And that he might want to watch out himself, since the thing you ran into was around where we last met. You'll be back on the case soon, though.
-[X] If noticed, say you were recently concussed and are supposed to be resting and recovering, avoiding stress, so you don't really have much to report right now. And that he might want to watch out himself, since the thing you ran into was around where we last met. You'll be back on the case soon, though.
Last edited:
Walk and Talk
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
You take a moment to breathe, keeping your head down as you do. Then you think. The enforcers are looking for people that Joseph knew, and Abhilash has some of Joseph's things. And those things might include what they're looking for. A directory or something like that. Which could very well mean that they'd come looking for him. Yeah, that's entirely within their modus operandi. Or at least it used to be. You shoot a glance over to where he's talking with a pharmacist.
You wish you didn't have to share this with him. If he reacts anything like how you had when you left the Arcanum, it'd be hell. The city, the crowding walls, towering builds, the glass that hid and warped everything, it made you feel like there was someone behind you, someone watching you all the time. It had made you not want to go out, made you feel like any little thing you did could be interpreted wrongly, or could justify violence against you. When you had been among their ranks, you'd always felt safe, comfortable with the knowledge that you'd accrued. Of course, you now knew how it felt in both places. If you weren't an enforcer, you were little people. They take an issue with you, they could find some way to justify their actions.
That was the sword that you had lived with for a long time, knowing you had to be on their radar. It only began to fade after years of being free. Now, though, it was all coming back. And you're about to put Abhilash into that mindset. Of course, that might just be necessary if he were to survive.
You hope not. You expect it to be the case, though.
You pull yourself out of your thoughts right as he turns to see you. There's a momentary glimpse of shock in his face, then he starts walking forward, umbrella on his wrist bobbing—you hadn't thought it was going to rain, but you also hadn't checked. Hopefully he's just being cautious. Abhilash quickly closes, giving you a slight smile as he does so. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"Didn't expect to be here," you reply. "But, uh." You lift up the bottle of acetaminophen you've been projecting your anxiety towards for the last few minutes. It falls out of your hand as you raise it. Traitor.
"What's that for?" he asks, leaning down to pick it up faster than you can.
"Concussion."
"Oh, okay." He hands the bottle back, idly rummaging with his envelope of pills. "Depression over here. Can I ask about that?"
"My concussion?" He nods in response, concern evident in his eyes. "Of course. I actually wanted to talk to you about that, actually. If we can find a good place to talk discreetly." You say that last bit just as an old woman, maybe in her seventies, walks past, giving you both an odd look.
"Right, right," he mutters, looking around for a moment. "There's a place nearby where we could grab some lunch. I know the owner, but it's a bit of a walk. If you want some. Lunch, that is." You nod along. It is getting to that point in the day, and honestly sitting down sounds better with every passing moment.
He lets you pay for your meds along, meeting back up with you at the entrance before walking the few blocks to the restaurant. The weather continues to actually be rather nice for Seattle, a cool breeze drifting up from Elliott Bay. A stronger gust rushes in from below, and as it does Abhilash pulls his scarf up and closes his leather jacket closer around himself. It almost seemed that the intent was to make him look intimidating. Personally, you think it just makes him look nice. There you go. Keep getting distracted.
As it turns out, the place he had in mind was some hole in the wall in Pike Place, across the street from the main marketplace. The sidewalks are crowded and you have to close up behind him to keep pace. Even still, your head is starting to hurt a bit, and you slip for a moment, getting knocked into by some touristy-looking prick. Right as your about to fall over, Abhilash puts his hand against your shoulder to stop you. Your eyes catch, and his hand traces down arm. You pause as it reaches your wrist, unsure of how things should go.
[ ] Pull hand away
[ ] Put hand on his shoulder then pull it away
[ ] Let him continue
(A/N): Smaller update today, mostly because there wasn't a good way to continue on from this moment without this decision seeming smaller than intended.
You wish you didn't have to share this with him. If he reacts anything like how you had when you left the Arcanum, it'd be hell. The city, the crowding walls, towering builds, the glass that hid and warped everything, it made you feel like there was someone behind you, someone watching you all the time. It had made you not want to go out, made you feel like any little thing you did could be interpreted wrongly, or could justify violence against you. When you had been among their ranks, you'd always felt safe, comfortable with the knowledge that you'd accrued. Of course, you now knew how it felt in both places. If you weren't an enforcer, you were little people. They take an issue with you, they could find some way to justify their actions.
That was the sword that you had lived with for a long time, knowing you had to be on their radar. It only began to fade after years of being free. Now, though, it was all coming back. And you're about to put Abhilash into that mindset. Of course, that might just be necessary if he were to survive.
You hope not. You expect it to be the case, though.
You pull yourself out of your thoughts right as he turns to see you. There's a momentary glimpse of shock in his face, then he starts walking forward, umbrella on his wrist bobbing—you hadn't thought it was going to rain, but you also hadn't checked. Hopefully he's just being cautious. Abhilash quickly closes, giving you a slight smile as he does so. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"Didn't expect to be here," you reply. "But, uh." You lift up the bottle of acetaminophen you've been projecting your anxiety towards for the last few minutes. It falls out of your hand as you raise it. Traitor.
"What's that for?" he asks, leaning down to pick it up faster than you can.
"Concussion."
"Oh, okay." He hands the bottle back, idly rummaging with his envelope of pills. "Depression over here. Can I ask about that?"
"My concussion?" He nods in response, concern evident in his eyes. "Of course. I actually wanted to talk to you about that, actually. If we can find a good place to talk discreetly." You say that last bit just as an old woman, maybe in her seventies, walks past, giving you both an odd look.
"Right, right," he mutters, looking around for a moment. "There's a place nearby where we could grab some lunch. I know the owner, but it's a bit of a walk. If you want some. Lunch, that is." You nod along. It is getting to that point in the day, and honestly sitting down sounds better with every passing moment.
He lets you pay for your meds along, meeting back up with you at the entrance before walking the few blocks to the restaurant. The weather continues to actually be rather nice for Seattle, a cool breeze drifting up from Elliott Bay. A stronger gust rushes in from below, and as it does Abhilash pulls his scarf up and closes his leather jacket closer around himself. It almost seemed that the intent was to make him look intimidating. Personally, you think it just makes him look nice. There you go. Keep getting distracted.
As it turns out, the place he had in mind was some hole in the wall in Pike Place, across the street from the main marketplace. The sidewalks are crowded and you have to close up behind him to keep pace. Even still, your head is starting to hurt a bit, and you slip for a moment, getting knocked into by some touristy-looking prick. Right as your about to fall over, Abhilash puts his hand against your shoulder to stop you. Your eyes catch, and his hand traces down arm. You pause as it reaches your wrist, unsure of how things should go.
[ ] Pull hand away
[ ] Put hand on his shoulder then pull it away
[ ] Let him continue
(A/N): Smaller update today, mostly because there wasn't a good way to continue on from this moment without this decision seeming smaller than intended.
WanderingEye
smol skeleton
[X] Put hand on his shoulder then pull it away
It's a polite friendly gesture I think
Also @Disparate Dawn you forgot to threadmark.
It's a polite friendly gesture I think
Also @Disparate Dawn you forgot to threadmark.
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
Thanks for the catch there Wandering Eye.
[X] Pull hand away
Ultramandalore
Errant Quester
- Location
- just south of Parts Unknown
[X] Put hand on his shoulder then pull it away
Opening Up
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
[ ] Put hand on his shoulder then pull it away
You quickly move and pat him on the shoulder. That's the right response, yes? The one that isn't exceptionally awkward. The look he gives you—it appears to be one of puzzlement. There's something else underneath of it, but you can't read it. You just hope that he isn't better at reading faces than you are. Then, finally, Abhilash smiles and keeps moving. He's slower now; however, making sure that the two of you don't get seperated by the crowd.
It takes a little while longer but you both finally get into a small restaurant, pulling yourselves into a small corner booth. Orders are taken and then you both are finally alone. You can tell him what needs to be said now.
"That was definitely longer that 'a few blocks'." Wait, that wasn't it.
"I like this place, okay," Abhilash replies as the drinks arrive. "Besides, we're here anyways. Sláinte. Anyways, what'd you want to talk to me about?"
"I," you stop for a moment, scan around to make sure there's no one else around you both. "I got attacked last night. By an Enforcer."
"What?" Abhilash hisses. He mimics you, looking around briefly before running a hand through his hair. "Holy shit. You alright?"
"I got concussed." For whatever reason, you find that utterly hilarious and start giggling. It takes a second, but you manage to pull yourself back together. This is a serious issue. A very serious one, and you can't blame Abhilash for looking pissed, scared, and concerned all at the same time. "Okay, okay. I'm serious too. But yeah, they figured out I was investigating Joseph. I don't know who came after me, but they threatened me if I kept investigating. Threw me into a wall for my troubles."
"So the Arcanum took him?"
"Looks to be the case. My theory is that there's a warlock—a forbidden magic user—or an oraculari somewhere in Seattle, someone who Joseph knows. The Arcanum is aware of them, but can't identify them."
"But Joseph could," Abhilash says, connecting all the dots himself. "So they kidnapped him, grilled him for who they're looking for." His eyes are wide—it's about what you'd expect for a reaction to that news. "So what now? Going up against a group like that . . . I hope Tracy didn't ask you to bring Joseph's killer to justice. Because you will not be able to do that."
"Believe me, I know. But I can find who they're looking for first. I can maybe find Joseph—he may still be alive after all. We aren't going to get retribution, nor justice. But I can maybe protect them."
"And . . . the things that I have. Joseph's stuff, you think that the Arcanum is going to want that?"
"They might. If you want I can take them from you. Might make you less of a target."
"I've scrapped with people before. If any of them come for me."
You sigh at his bravery. You've seen people with that sort of confidence before. Hell, you've fought people with that sort of confidence before. It generally didn't work out that well. "Unless you've scrapped with an Enforcer before, that isn't going to count for much. I appreciate the sentiment, I really do. But if you try that, you're just going to end up dead." He breathes out at that, collecting himself. You're thankful for that. The amount of emotions that he must be dealing with at the moment, all the while trying to keep them under control, under the surface. You're good at that, but you've certainly seen when it goes for the worst. That thankfully isn't the case here.
"What can I expect?" he eventually asks. "In case one of them comes after me. I want to be able to defend myself." You nod along. Couldn't hurt, at the very least.
"Their staves are powerful magical artifacts. They've been crammed with dozens of spells: defensive abjurations, various magical projectiles, some basic divination tricks. They can see through illusions, create powerful shields, launch telekinetic force. Their staves can become blades which disintegrate anything they touch—it won't kill just from touching you, but they are nevertheless lethal. And that's on top of whatever the individual can do."
"Any weaknesses?"
"Only as tough as the average human," you answer. "Get hurt just like any of us. If you can take one by surprise, might be able to take them out with a baseball bat to the head or a gun. If they know you're there, don't bother with a gun. Shields can absorb the energy just fine."
"So," Abhilash breathes out. "The trick is to pray that I don't get noticed."
"Basically."
"Huh. I . . . is it okay if we talk about something else now?" You nod. Too much time thinking on things that you can't control, worrying about specters hanging over you, it'll destroy anyone. So instead you both jump from topic to topic. The one you both end up staying on the longest ends up being family. You learn his last name is Loinsigh, coming from his mother's side of the family, that he's an only child. You give him small bits of information about yourself: your childhood, how you figured out you were gay, your time as an apprentice in the Arcanum, the time that . . .
[ ] Skiing trips in the Alps. Better part of your apprenticeship, as far as you're concerned.
[ ] The time you figured out a magical theory problem that had stumped your mentor.
[ ] The time you and another apprentice enchanted the cantina's soda fountain to turn everyone's hair green.
That sort of thing. It's actually more relaxing than you thought it would be, there's a definite rhythm to the conversation that you find easy enough to follow along with him, even if you get confused once or twice. Still, the hour eventually passes by, food is eaten, and soon the both of you are back on the streets. You feel exhausted, but good. Even if the day wasn't the most productive, you at least got something done. And you have a pretty good excuse for why you didn't do more.
"What're you planning on doing?" Abhilash asks when you both get clear of the crowds.
"I've got a few leads I'm thinking of following. Might help me track down Joseph, or our Enforcer. Assuming there's only one, that is. But for right now, I'm resting."
"We have a ticking clock." Wow, he has a reaction to everything.
"I know, but I got my head cracked against a wall, so until I can think straight again I'd best not do anything too taxing. A wrong move is worse than no move." He nods along to that. Hopefully he'll see the wisdom there, decide to let you work as you do.
"Need me to do anything for you?" Well, never-mind on that. "I can use magic myself. Sure, I can't investigate things like you can, but I'm skilled enough with our gift, and I'm pretty smart. Just tell me what you want me to look at, and I'll give it a fair shake." You wave him off, you don't need someone else messing things up, before he gives you an honest look. "I want to help my friend. Please, let me. At the very least, let me make sure you're okay. If you're concussed, you won't be able to defend yourself properly if an Enforcer shows up. I can at least do that."
[ ] "I appreciate the offer, but that'll just make you more of a target." Go home and rest by yourself.
[ ] Accept his offer
-[ ] Rest while he watches you
-[ ] Transport Joseph's things over to your place
-[ ] Have him look at the mirror
[ ] Other (write in)
You quickly move and pat him on the shoulder. That's the right response, yes? The one that isn't exceptionally awkward. The look he gives you—it appears to be one of puzzlement. There's something else underneath of it, but you can't read it. You just hope that he isn't better at reading faces than you are. Then, finally, Abhilash smiles and keeps moving. He's slower now; however, making sure that the two of you don't get seperated by the crowd.
It takes a little while longer but you both finally get into a small restaurant, pulling yourselves into a small corner booth. Orders are taken and then you both are finally alone. You can tell him what needs to be said now.
"That was definitely longer that 'a few blocks'." Wait, that wasn't it.
"I like this place, okay," Abhilash replies as the drinks arrive. "Besides, we're here anyways. Sláinte. Anyways, what'd you want to talk to me about?"
"I," you stop for a moment, scan around to make sure there's no one else around you both. "I got attacked last night. By an Enforcer."
"What?" Abhilash hisses. He mimics you, looking around briefly before running a hand through his hair. "Holy shit. You alright?"
"I got concussed." For whatever reason, you find that utterly hilarious and start giggling. It takes a second, but you manage to pull yourself back together. This is a serious issue. A very serious one, and you can't blame Abhilash for looking pissed, scared, and concerned all at the same time. "Okay, okay. I'm serious too. But yeah, they figured out I was investigating Joseph. I don't know who came after me, but they threatened me if I kept investigating. Threw me into a wall for my troubles."
"So the Arcanum took him?"
"Looks to be the case. My theory is that there's a warlock—a forbidden magic user—or an oraculari somewhere in Seattle, someone who Joseph knows. The Arcanum is aware of them, but can't identify them."
"But Joseph could," Abhilash says, connecting all the dots himself. "So they kidnapped him, grilled him for who they're looking for." His eyes are wide—it's about what you'd expect for a reaction to that news. "So what now? Going up against a group like that . . . I hope Tracy didn't ask you to bring Joseph's killer to justice. Because you will not be able to do that."
"Believe me, I know. But I can find who they're looking for first. I can maybe find Joseph—he may still be alive after all. We aren't going to get retribution, nor justice. But I can maybe protect them."
"And . . . the things that I have. Joseph's stuff, you think that the Arcanum is going to want that?"
"They might. If you want I can take them from you. Might make you less of a target."
"I've scrapped with people before. If any of them come for me."
You sigh at his bravery. You've seen people with that sort of confidence before. Hell, you've fought people with that sort of confidence before. It generally didn't work out that well. "Unless you've scrapped with an Enforcer before, that isn't going to count for much. I appreciate the sentiment, I really do. But if you try that, you're just going to end up dead." He breathes out at that, collecting himself. You're thankful for that. The amount of emotions that he must be dealing with at the moment, all the while trying to keep them under control, under the surface. You're good at that, but you've certainly seen when it goes for the worst. That thankfully isn't the case here.
"What can I expect?" he eventually asks. "In case one of them comes after me. I want to be able to defend myself." You nod along. Couldn't hurt, at the very least.
"Their staves are powerful magical artifacts. They've been crammed with dozens of spells: defensive abjurations, various magical projectiles, some basic divination tricks. They can see through illusions, create powerful shields, launch telekinetic force. Their staves can become blades which disintegrate anything they touch—it won't kill just from touching you, but they are nevertheless lethal. And that's on top of whatever the individual can do."
"Any weaknesses?"
"Only as tough as the average human," you answer. "Get hurt just like any of us. If you can take one by surprise, might be able to take them out with a baseball bat to the head or a gun. If they know you're there, don't bother with a gun. Shields can absorb the energy just fine."
"So," Abhilash breathes out. "The trick is to pray that I don't get noticed."
"Basically."
"Huh. I . . . is it okay if we talk about something else now?" You nod. Too much time thinking on things that you can't control, worrying about specters hanging over you, it'll destroy anyone. So instead you both jump from topic to topic. The one you both end up staying on the longest ends up being family. You learn his last name is Loinsigh, coming from his mother's side of the family, that he's an only child. You give him small bits of information about yourself: your childhood, how you figured out you were gay, your time as an apprentice in the Arcanum, the time that . . .
[ ] Skiing trips in the Alps. Better part of your apprenticeship, as far as you're concerned.
[ ] The time you figured out a magical theory problem that had stumped your mentor.
[ ] The time you and another apprentice enchanted the cantina's soda fountain to turn everyone's hair green.
That sort of thing. It's actually more relaxing than you thought it would be, there's a definite rhythm to the conversation that you find easy enough to follow along with him, even if you get confused once or twice. Still, the hour eventually passes by, food is eaten, and soon the both of you are back on the streets. You feel exhausted, but good. Even if the day wasn't the most productive, you at least got something done. And you have a pretty good excuse for why you didn't do more.
"What're you planning on doing?" Abhilash asks when you both get clear of the crowds.
"I've got a few leads I'm thinking of following. Might help me track down Joseph, or our Enforcer. Assuming there's only one, that is. But for right now, I'm resting."
"We have a ticking clock." Wow, he has a reaction to everything.
"I know, but I got my head cracked against a wall, so until I can think straight again I'd best not do anything too taxing. A wrong move is worse than no move." He nods along to that. Hopefully he'll see the wisdom there, decide to let you work as you do.
"Need me to do anything for you?" Well, never-mind on that. "I can use magic myself. Sure, I can't investigate things like you can, but I'm skilled enough with our gift, and I'm pretty smart. Just tell me what you want me to look at, and I'll give it a fair shake." You wave him off, you don't need someone else messing things up, before he gives you an honest look. "I want to help my friend. Please, let me. At the very least, let me make sure you're okay. If you're concussed, you won't be able to defend yourself properly if an Enforcer shows up. I can at least do that."
[ ] "I appreciate the offer, but that'll just make you more of a target." Go home and rest by yourself.
[ ] Accept his offer
-[ ] Rest while he watches you
-[ ] Transport Joseph's things over to your place
-[ ] Have him look at the mirror
[ ] Other (write in)
Ultramandalore
Errant Quester
- Location
- just south of Parts Unknown
[X] The time you figured out a magical theory problem that had stumped your mentor.
[X] "I appreciate the offer, but that'll just make you more of a target." Go home and rest by yourself.
[X] "I appreciate the offer, but that'll just make you more of a target." Go home and rest by yourself.
WanderingEye
smol skeleton
[X] The time you and another apprentice enchanted the cantina's soda fountain to turn everyone's hair green.
[X] "I appreciate the offer, but that'll just make you more of a target." Go home and rest by yourself.
Everybody needs a little green in their life
I feel like the second vote could be worded more diplomatically but I have no idea how, in the meantime I'll vote for the one that will lead less possible harm.
[X] "I appreciate the offer, but that'll just make you more of a target." Go home and rest by yourself.
Everybody needs a little green in their life
I feel like the second vote could be worded more diplomatically but I have no idea how, in the meantime I'll vote for the one that will lead less possible harm.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] The time you and another apprentice enchanted the cantina's soda fountain to turn everyone's hair green.
[X] "I appreciate the offer, but that'll just make you more of a target." Go home and rest by yourself.
I like the green option. It's cute and innocuous and just seems like the sort of thing you'd playfully chat about to a possible new friend. In terms of the offer, I don't see much motivation to not just have him back off. We just established that he probably doesn't stand a chance against an Enforcer, why would we risk putting him in harm's way by having him stick around and protect us or help? Have him back off, it's the wise thing to do in my opinion.
[X] "I appreciate the offer, but that'll just make you more of a target." Go home and rest by yourself.
I like the green option. It's cute and innocuous and just seems like the sort of thing you'd playfully chat about to a possible new friend. In terms of the offer, I don't see much motivation to not just have him back off. We just established that he probably doesn't stand a chance against an Enforcer, why would we risk putting him in harm's way by having him stick around and protect us or help? Have him back off, it's the wise thing to do in my opinion.
Down
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
[ ] The time you and another apprentice enchanted the cantina's soda fountain to turn everyone's hair green.
[ ] "I appreciate the offer, but that'll just make you more of a target." Go home and rest by yourself.
He nods, understanding. You're thankful for that. "Alright, just promise to call me if something comes up that needs me. Please?" You pause, before nodding. Besides, if he can't handle it you can simply not tell him. You're actually proud of how well you manage to handle that one. "Thank you, Mhlanga. I hope to see you again."
"Same." With that, he shakes your hand with faint touch, before slowly walking away from you. You watch as he disappears into the crowd, before turning yourself.
You spend the next two days recovering from your concussion. It's somewhat boring, as you lay around, occasionally popping your pain pills. You manage to be productive in your downtime at least: you finally finish watching Jessica Jones' second season while laying upside down on your couch, you get some casual reading done.It would be nice, where it not for the anxiety of a potential murderer running about Seattle. You've never been good at ignoring that sort of thing. Made you restless when you were with the Arcanum, and it's starting to reappear. It keeps you from sleeping well at night, making you wake halfway to REM, the image of an Enforcer bringing their blade down onto you searing in your mind. Instead you end up feverishly sleeping on your sofa a few times when exhaustion utterly consume you. That seems to work a little bit better, thankfully.
You do end up reading a bit more of Joseph's journal when you're feeling a little bit better. The second day of your rest is mostly unnecessary, you feel, as you're mostly feeling compos mentis then. You don't take any medicine that day, and everything starts to have a bit of a more sober light.
Still, you have to do something that day, and so you go out, impulse buy some hair dye, and work some highlights into your hair, reading through the pages as you wait for the bleach to take effect in your dark black hair, continuing to skim as the hair turns dark green, mimicking the colour which you had once turned many peoples in the Arcanum as a prank. It actually makes you feel a bit soothed. That's at least one part of the past which you were proud of back in the time. And now, it was something which you had taken for yourself. It feels . . . right. Recontextualizing the past, reconquering old, alienated memories in a way that made them yours.
Okay, maybe you're still feeling a bit fuzzy if you're feeling this postmodern.
Even still, you scribble down several notes from Joseph's journal. For a while you skim through what appears to be meaningless pieces of gossip: something about some guy named Cedric and his boyfriend, how the panini place nearby got more expensive recently. All mundane, boring things that wouldn't be the sort of thing that would be useful to an Enforcer. For the most part, all you get out of it is that Joseph is a gossipy bitch. But then, late at night, you notice something. Towards the front, there was a page missing. At first you hadn't noticed—Joseph wrote very loosely and didn't seem to write daily. Furthermore, as you run your hand along where it was ripped out, you realize that it had been done very finely, as if . . .
You open up your inner eye, and sigh. As you had expected, he had severed it with a spell, making sure to cut as close to the binding as he could. The cut was about a week old now, judging by the wear the magical energy had taken. Still, there are little scraps of the piece left. You could maybe track the other half down . . . assuming that Joseph hadn't burned it or destroyed it in another way. If he had, then there wouldn't be much you could do. But if he hadn't . . .
You go to bed thinking about that, and for once in the last few days you don't have a nightmare in the early morning.
You rise. The date is Thursday, November 8th, 2018. You dress for the weather, eleven degrees, gather all your artifacts, and review your options. You've got two people you could get into contact with if you needed to, and could likely contact this Henry if you wanted to. There's the mirror back at the office, all ready to be looked at. There's a sliver of wood. And there's a missing journal page.
[ ] Contact Abhilash Loinsigh
-[ ] Get in touch with Henry
-[ ] Get Joseph's other items
[ ] Contact Tracy Uin to get in touch with Henry
[ ] Inspect mirror
[ ] Investigate sliver of wood
[ ] Track down journal entry
[ ] Other (write-in)
[ ] "I appreciate the offer, but that'll just make you more of a target." Go home and rest by yourself.
He nods, understanding. You're thankful for that. "Alright, just promise to call me if something comes up that needs me. Please?" You pause, before nodding. Besides, if he can't handle it you can simply not tell him. You're actually proud of how well you manage to handle that one. "Thank you, Mhlanga. I hope to see you again."
"Same." With that, he shakes your hand with faint touch, before slowly walking away from you. You watch as he disappears into the crowd, before turning yourself.
You spend the next two days recovering from your concussion. It's somewhat boring, as you lay around, occasionally popping your pain pills. You manage to be productive in your downtime at least: you finally finish watching Jessica Jones' second season while laying upside down on your couch, you get some casual reading done.It would be nice, where it not for the anxiety of a potential murderer running about Seattle. You've never been good at ignoring that sort of thing. Made you restless when you were with the Arcanum, and it's starting to reappear. It keeps you from sleeping well at night, making you wake halfway to REM, the image of an Enforcer bringing their blade down onto you searing in your mind. Instead you end up feverishly sleeping on your sofa a few times when exhaustion utterly consume you. That seems to work a little bit better, thankfully.
You do end up reading a bit more of Joseph's journal when you're feeling a little bit better. The second day of your rest is mostly unnecessary, you feel, as you're mostly feeling compos mentis then. You don't take any medicine that day, and everything starts to have a bit of a more sober light.
Still, you have to do something that day, and so you go out, impulse buy some hair dye, and work some highlights into your hair, reading through the pages as you wait for the bleach to take effect in your dark black hair, continuing to skim as the hair turns dark green, mimicking the colour which you had once turned many peoples in the Arcanum as a prank. It actually makes you feel a bit soothed. That's at least one part of the past which you were proud of back in the time. And now, it was something which you had taken for yourself. It feels . . . right. Recontextualizing the past, reconquering old, alienated memories in a way that made them yours.
Okay, maybe you're still feeling a bit fuzzy if you're feeling this postmodern.
Even still, you scribble down several notes from Joseph's journal. For a while you skim through what appears to be meaningless pieces of gossip: something about some guy named Cedric and his boyfriend, how the panini place nearby got more expensive recently. All mundane, boring things that wouldn't be the sort of thing that would be useful to an Enforcer. For the most part, all you get out of it is that Joseph is a gossipy bitch. But then, late at night, you notice something. Towards the front, there was a page missing. At first you hadn't noticed—Joseph wrote very loosely and didn't seem to write daily. Furthermore, as you run your hand along where it was ripped out, you realize that it had been done very finely, as if . . .
You open up your inner eye, and sigh. As you had expected, he had severed it with a spell, making sure to cut as close to the binding as he could. The cut was about a week old now, judging by the wear the magical energy had taken. Still, there are little scraps of the piece left. You could maybe track the other half down . . . assuming that Joseph hadn't burned it or destroyed it in another way. If he had, then there wouldn't be much you could do. But if he hadn't . . .
You go to bed thinking about that, and for once in the last few days you don't have a nightmare in the early morning.
You rise. The date is Thursday, November 8th, 2018. You dress for the weather, eleven degrees, gather all your artifacts, and review your options. You've got two people you could get into contact with if you needed to, and could likely contact this Henry if you wanted to. There's the mirror back at the office, all ready to be looked at. There's a sliver of wood. And there's a missing journal page.
[ ] Contact Abhilash Loinsigh
-[ ] Get in touch with Henry
-[ ] Get Joseph's other items
[ ] Contact Tracy Uin to get in touch with Henry
[ ] Inspect mirror
[ ] Investigate sliver of wood
[ ] Track down journal entry
[ ] Other (write-in)
[X] Investigate sliver of wood
- Location
- Scotland
[X] Inspect mirror
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
I'm afraid that the next update is going to be coming out tomorrow due to scheduling difficulties. In addition, I'm going to be out of the state on Sunday and as such that update will be a day late as well.
Put Jewels On It
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
[ ] Inspect mirror
Alrighty then. Time to finally go through the mirror. Or at least take a look at it. At least now you'll know what it's deal is. At least that's the plan. You gear up for the day, grabbing all your various artifacts, clean yourself up, get out. After the past few days it feels as though you have a new lease on . . . well, not quite life, but at least on your head, which is the important bit. You're refreshed and energized as you head out and down the street, ready to tackle the day.
You move straight to the mirror as you enter the room, plucking the sapphire off of it and placing it on your desk. Then, after getting a kettle set up for tea, you turn your attention to the jewel, draw a symbol with your hands and pull back away from it. Thin golden threads flow outward, crisscrossing the office space, composed of small runes. You take it in and get to work.
There's actually relatively little spellwork on the mirror, you've found. Lots of people like to enchant their mirrors this way and that until the diagnostics looks like an unspooled carpet, but this piece was actually relatively simple. Most of the complex work was spent on getting it to serve as a portal to the mirrored world, a weave of spells which, while they can be done quickly, are nevertheless complicated. You've seen a few amateurs over your time who have managed to put together spells like this one, but those people are rare. While you can't say whether it was Joseph or his attacker who cast this spell, they were definitely trained. While you already know that the Arcanum is likely behind this, it still serves as yet another piece of evidence in favor of that conclusion. There are other magical organizations like them out there, but ever since the 1700s the Arcanum has become a stronger and stronger international presence. Having finally absorbed most of the other organizations of European origin, the Parisian-based Arcanum had slid into the Americas. As a power-vacuum formed among the African communities, the Arcanum brought themselves there as well. Same story came time and time again, until the Arcanum dictated magical politics on a global scale. A few groups existed here and there, but none with the might to challenge the Arcanum. Even today, when the Arcanum slipped back to their older territories, they still had the furthest reach, the largest collections of knowledge, the greatest resources. The same resources and knowledge you had learned from.
You focus back to reality, and continue studying the threads. A number appear to be filler—meaningless spells which are cast solely to make it more difficult to find the actually important ones. Noise hiding the signal. Fortunately, none of this is strong enough to defeat the sapphire—and you manage to successfully find the other two spells. The first is a simple, effective notification spell. Anyone who enters into the mirrored world through this particular point causes an alert to be sent to the one who cast the spell, alongside a link back to the mirror that can be traced. Easy way to monitor pursuers, but also only able to catch pursuers who were dumbasses. You nullify that spell with barely a thought.
The other, though, takes you quite a while to figure out. At first it appears to be some sort of clairvoyance spell, looking forward for danger, mixed with telepathy, but it isn't making sense. Then you realize that it isn't clairvoyance which you're looking at, but retrovoyance. The runes are reversed and from that you realize fully what it is. A spell that looks into the target—whoever enters the mirror—and searches their memory for a traumatic moment. Then it dials that moment up to eleven and shoves it into their mind, making it consume them. A spell designed to cause a panic attack, instantly, to anyone who intrudes. That way, the caster would have time to get to the mirror while the intruder was pulling themselves back together, and to confront them. It's clever, cruel, and subtle. This one takes much longer to undo—particularly since you don't want to interact with it yourself. Still, you manage to do so. The mirror is now unguarded.
You take a moment to drink your tea and rest once you've done your work. Diagnostics is tricky, and spell nullification, while something you've done plenty of times, was never your strongest subject. Still, you're certain you got everything. You ponder as you drink your bancha tea: should you go in now? You feel like there's no time like the present, but in case you have anything else you want to tie up first, you should probably get that done. Whatever is in the mirror was guarded. It's going to be big. And you don't want to be caught unawares.
(A/N): While there generally aren't points of no return in this quest, the mirror is as close to one as there is going to be at this point. As such, I felt it important to signpost it appropriately.
[ ] Enter the mirror
[ ] Wait. You've something you should do first
- Write in
Alrighty then. Time to finally go through the mirror. Or at least take a look at it. At least now you'll know what it's deal is. At least that's the plan. You gear up for the day, grabbing all your various artifacts, clean yourself up, get out. After the past few days it feels as though you have a new lease on . . . well, not quite life, but at least on your head, which is the important bit. You're refreshed and energized as you head out and down the street, ready to tackle the day.
You move straight to the mirror as you enter the room, plucking the sapphire off of it and placing it on your desk. Then, after getting a kettle set up for tea, you turn your attention to the jewel, draw a symbol with your hands and pull back away from it. Thin golden threads flow outward, crisscrossing the office space, composed of small runes. You take it in and get to work.
There's actually relatively little spellwork on the mirror, you've found. Lots of people like to enchant their mirrors this way and that until the diagnostics looks like an unspooled carpet, but this piece was actually relatively simple. Most of the complex work was spent on getting it to serve as a portal to the mirrored world, a weave of spells which, while they can be done quickly, are nevertheless complicated. You've seen a few amateurs over your time who have managed to put together spells like this one, but those people are rare. While you can't say whether it was Joseph or his attacker who cast this spell, they were definitely trained. While you already know that the Arcanum is likely behind this, it still serves as yet another piece of evidence in favor of that conclusion. There are other magical organizations like them out there, but ever since the 1700s the Arcanum has become a stronger and stronger international presence. Having finally absorbed most of the other organizations of European origin, the Parisian-based Arcanum had slid into the Americas. As a power-vacuum formed among the African communities, the Arcanum brought themselves there as well. Same story came time and time again, until the Arcanum dictated magical politics on a global scale. A few groups existed here and there, but none with the might to challenge the Arcanum. Even today, when the Arcanum slipped back to their older territories, they still had the furthest reach, the largest collections of knowledge, the greatest resources. The same resources and knowledge you had learned from.
You focus back to reality, and continue studying the threads. A number appear to be filler—meaningless spells which are cast solely to make it more difficult to find the actually important ones. Noise hiding the signal. Fortunately, none of this is strong enough to defeat the sapphire—and you manage to successfully find the other two spells. The first is a simple, effective notification spell. Anyone who enters into the mirrored world through this particular point causes an alert to be sent to the one who cast the spell, alongside a link back to the mirror that can be traced. Easy way to monitor pursuers, but also only able to catch pursuers who were dumbasses. You nullify that spell with barely a thought.
The other, though, takes you quite a while to figure out. At first it appears to be some sort of clairvoyance spell, looking forward for danger, mixed with telepathy, but it isn't making sense. Then you realize that it isn't clairvoyance which you're looking at, but retrovoyance. The runes are reversed and from that you realize fully what it is. A spell that looks into the target—whoever enters the mirror—and searches their memory for a traumatic moment. Then it dials that moment up to eleven and shoves it into their mind, making it consume them. A spell designed to cause a panic attack, instantly, to anyone who intrudes. That way, the caster would have time to get to the mirror while the intruder was pulling themselves back together, and to confront them. It's clever, cruel, and subtle. This one takes much longer to undo—particularly since you don't want to interact with it yourself. Still, you manage to do so. The mirror is now unguarded.
You take a moment to drink your tea and rest once you've done your work. Diagnostics is tricky, and spell nullification, while something you've done plenty of times, was never your strongest subject. Still, you're certain you got everything. You ponder as you drink your bancha tea: should you go in now? You feel like there's no time like the present, but in case you have anything else you want to tie up first, you should probably get that done. Whatever is in the mirror was guarded. It's going to be big. And you don't want to be caught unawares.
(A/N): While there generally aren't points of no return in this quest, the mirror is as close to one as there is going to be at this point. As such, I felt it important to signpost it appropriately.
[ ] Enter the mirror
[ ] Wait. You've something you should do first
- Write in
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Can't think of anything else important to do at the moment so nothing ventured...
[X] Enter the mirror
[X] Enter the mirror
Don't Get Captured
Disparate Dawn
Extrasolar Cuddle Being
- Location
- Roy Batty's Psychedelic Gay Bar
[ ] Enter the mirror
Alright. Deep breaths, deep breaths. It's time to go through the mirror. The actual motion of it is rather boring, as you step toward the mirror, pushing your body against the glass until it gives, shards reorienting around you. Reality wavers for a moment, then shifts in rainbow kaleidoscope shift, fluid neon origami trick (you take your expressions from the maestros), and then the focal point is expanding, filling your vision as you fall into the mirror and through it. And then you're through and into the apartment. It takes a few moments for you to get your bearings—always the case when entering into the mirror world—but then you look around. The apartment is more or less how you had expected it to be. Everything in the mirror world remains undisturbed unless someone actually entered into it. Then you notice some of the smaller issues: the scorch marks on the wall are still there, the chair is still knocked askew. So, the connection to the mirror world was created after the fight. That doesn't bode well. And then you look down on the floor, and things get even worse.
The floor has been clearly bleached, something which hadn't been the case in the real apartment. You inspect around the edges of the bleached areas, trying to find a spot that they missed. Finally, you spot it. A tiny fleck of rusty brown. You check it with your inner eye, magnifying your sight, determining what it is. Sadly, you're on the ball with your expectations. Blood. Human blood, and likely Joseph's blood. You glance about the room. There's—there's a lot of space that is bleached. You swallow nervously. Even still, you can work with this. First thing first, scrape off some of the blood, and you can use it to trace—then a noise catches your attention. A low groan emanates from the bathroom, so quiet you almost hadn't noticed it. It sounded broken. Joseph would be going on several days without water, without food, losing blood. He'd be weak. Like he sounds right now.
You move to the bathroom, throwing the door open and looking into the . . . empty room. And then something slams against the ground beneath you. You swivel your head, gas rising from the ground. You glance down briefly, foot sweeping against shattered pottery, and a speaker in the corner. Oh—oh! You move out the room, hand over your mouth, keeping yourself from breathing. Even as you take control of the moment, panic slams into you. It was a clever trick, some powerful anaesthetic and a speaker with audio from Joseph recorded. Completely nonmagical, the sort of thing you wouldn't expect. It's—you cough, stagger and nearly drop into the hallway. You stumble about, head pounding, trying to think. The Arcanum, they set a trap for anyone who would investigate. It's actually a bit clever, for a bunch of uninspired jackasses . . . you giggle at the thought. Okay. Giggling was a bad sign. That, wow, whatever they hit you with was good. Okay, you need to formulate a plan. You, you're going to be unconsh—uncon—you're going to be knocked out soon. You need to formulate some sort of plan for that, or you're gonna be fucked. The best bet is to . . .
[ ] Find a place to hide
[ ] Try and formulate a spell to negate the effects
[ ] Get your phone, call for help
Alright. Deep breaths, deep breaths. It's time to go through the mirror. The actual motion of it is rather boring, as you step toward the mirror, pushing your body against the glass until it gives, shards reorienting around you. Reality wavers for a moment, then shifts in rainbow kaleidoscope shift, fluid neon origami trick (you take your expressions from the maestros), and then the focal point is expanding, filling your vision as you fall into the mirror and through it. And then you're through and into the apartment. It takes a few moments for you to get your bearings—always the case when entering into the mirror world—but then you look around. The apartment is more or less how you had expected it to be. Everything in the mirror world remains undisturbed unless someone actually entered into it. Then you notice some of the smaller issues: the scorch marks on the wall are still there, the chair is still knocked askew. So, the connection to the mirror world was created after the fight. That doesn't bode well. And then you look down on the floor, and things get even worse.
The floor has been clearly bleached, something which hadn't been the case in the real apartment. You inspect around the edges of the bleached areas, trying to find a spot that they missed. Finally, you spot it. A tiny fleck of rusty brown. You check it with your inner eye, magnifying your sight, determining what it is. Sadly, you're on the ball with your expectations. Blood. Human blood, and likely Joseph's blood. You glance about the room. There's—there's a lot of space that is bleached. You swallow nervously. Even still, you can work with this. First thing first, scrape off some of the blood, and you can use it to trace—then a noise catches your attention. A low groan emanates from the bathroom, so quiet you almost hadn't noticed it. It sounded broken. Joseph would be going on several days without water, without food, losing blood. He'd be weak. Like he sounds right now.
You move to the bathroom, throwing the door open and looking into the . . . empty room. And then something slams against the ground beneath you. You swivel your head, gas rising from the ground. You glance down briefly, foot sweeping against shattered pottery, and a speaker in the corner. Oh—oh! You move out the room, hand over your mouth, keeping yourself from breathing. Even as you take control of the moment, panic slams into you. It was a clever trick, some powerful anaesthetic and a speaker with audio from Joseph recorded. Completely nonmagical, the sort of thing you wouldn't expect. It's—you cough, stagger and nearly drop into the hallway. You stumble about, head pounding, trying to think. The Arcanum, they set a trap for anyone who would investigate. It's actually a bit clever, for a bunch of uninspired jackasses . . . you giggle at the thought. Okay. Giggling was a bad sign. That, wow, whatever they hit you with was good. Okay, you need to formulate a plan. You, you're going to be unconsh—uncon—you're going to be knocked out soon. You need to formulate some sort of plan for that, or you're gonna be fucked. The best bet is to . . .
[ ] Find a place to hide
[ ] Try and formulate a spell to negate the effects
[ ] Get your phone, call for help