City of Light, City of Night
21th of November 2006 A.D.
Mexico City is the kind of place you can get lost in so many ways, as a mouse in a maze of tangled streets and little nooks of history hidden away yards away from the rumble of busy tragic, as a viewer set before the colorful canvas of a city that stretches out over the hills from the golden vaults of churches to the awnings of street carts, as one awoken to the voice of power that sings beneath these streets as it had done since the time when yet the waters flowed and before than when an eagle stood perched atop a cactus. Power flows like water, like blood under the feet of people uncounted, tourists here for a day and a few flashy photos, old and wizened grandmothers giving them a gimlet eye, kids on holiday and men in grey suits and flashing sunglasses, phones at their ears, the fate of the world on their lips, or so at least they think.
In cool air conditioned halls, the shadows broken up by buzzing white light, lighting caged by artifice, old stones lie bare of sacred pommp, hollow eyes staring glaring at the curious crowds, unblinking in the glare of furtive camera flashes.All that was holy had fled from here, all that was mighty and great and yet.. and yet... the darkness in the hollow eyes is deeper, the anger writ in the stern line of a king's jaw, perhaps a god's still makes the onlooker uneasy. You catch sight of one elderly woman clutching a rosary even while the pair of teens with her, perhaps her grandchildren roll their eyes at their nann's 'superstitions'. In this old eyes see truer.
You wonder at what those priests of old would have thought of what had become of their city, their land. As evening's grey fingers reach across the sky the lights spring into being. Maybe it's just you, maybe you're projecting, but as the lights spring forth, burning behind glass, advertising show and movies, cars and bars and energy drinks it almost feels fearful, as though the earth has had its glut of blood and the sky would turn away from what is done here by night. Where once the priest-kings of the Mexica ruled not only horrors feast and name themselves lords over those they feast upon. All it would take is wandering down the wrong street, speaking to the wrong beautiful stranger and things far, far worse than any mortal kidnapper or drug pusher would find you. Granted it would be the last thing they ever find, but you are not here to fish in murky waters, to catch one, two or a dozen darting trout. You are hunting bigger game...
Restored Willpower to 9/9 from Sightseeing
Restored Essence to 15/15 from Charred Sinner Renewal
And as little as you might wish to think about it you have help. Perched next to the golden eagle there's another bird, a shadow among the city's bright lights, no doubt the wrecker of many a holiday photo. The visitors should count themselves lucky that this is all he's ruining. Broken Seeker is of the 'hiding in plain sight' school of deception.
This place, this crossroad of the land was once a Dragon's Nest and even with the lake dried, the old temples in ruins there's enough of a dip in the arcane tomography of the city that is it not the least bit strange for a bit of the old dark to gather here. Still
that's a bit much... "A three winged bird? Why are you doing that?"
"Mortals see less the more light they cast into the night, it amuses me so" comes the croaking answer. "A simple pleasure yes, but one must enjoy to appreciate such things if one is to endure."
"Here," you shove a pair of headphones at him, not sanctuary-made, not even as small as you had made your own, certainly not containing any spirit, if he can veil having three wings, he can deal with hiding a pair of green headphones. "So we can keep in contact."
At this Broken Seeker rolls his eyes and then he rolls his whole head back with a sickening crack, revealing the stump of his avian neck from which blooms a flower of gore, a cocoon of flesh that then pulses and splits open into a human... humanoid at least form in a long fur trimmed coat and wide brimmed snake-skin hat.
You could have lived your whole life and been happy without knowing that those were all made of the same substance as his own flesh and blood, skinned and tanned by sorcery in the same smooth motion as changing shapes, without even dropping the veil , but no Usum just
had to tell you.
The skinwalker snaps on the headphones and then just jabs the wearable mike into his sternum where it remains rooted like a strange plastic growth. Much to your annoyance he catches on how to use them all too easily as the pair of you jog towards the airport at a smooth even pace no entirely mundane human could have kept up with.
Is there anything you would like to tell Broken Seeker before you set off?
[] Yes
-[] Tell him not to hurt civilians
-[] Try to convince him to accept surrenders as well as not harming civilians
-[] Write in
[] No, you're sure he will go for Arianna first, after he has been sated by her death screams odds are good he will be much more amenable to rules of engagement
[] Write in
OOC: Sorry this took so long guys, my chair just broke and I tried way too long to fix it before giving up and using something else. 
