Re: Chapter 001: The Enlightening

Sebastian Mosely Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:50 pm

FORTUNATE ISLES PENTHOUSE; LIBRARY

With every person coming in, he felt more and more like he was part of a council and pretty much could relate to how Frodo felt in The Lord of the Rings. Sebastian sat back and was taking in everything that was going on, and he found that that was the best policy at the moment. Wasn’t that another good quality to have as a hunter? To be aware of your surroundings and take in everything you could when given the opportunity? It sounded justifiable to him and he would stick by his decision. Not far after the woman walked in – it seemed to start a domino effect. A few seconds after her, a man who seemed to be with her came in and gave Sebastian the ol’ stare down. He didn’t know if this was an ‘I don’t like you stare’ but nevertheless, he smiled some and nodded toward the man. Hey, it was a polite thing to do and he wasn’t going to do that whole waving his hand and saying his name again, things were too tense for that. Well, he thought they were tense but a tuxedo man walked in and lightened the mood a little bit, a least for the mini-Eldritch. The quip from the man showed that he wasn’t freaked out about the letter which was a nice change to all the chaos that was going on. Logan followed suit and answered his question about researching and he nodded in response. Researching could be something that Sebastian could get used to – it was a strength of his and he enjoyed getting lost in a book once in a while. It also didn’t hurt that he couldn’t get killed that way.

Minute by minute more things were being revealed; Gavin having amnesia (and why he was researching ways to regain memories) and at one point at time knew everyone’s name that were in the room. It was no surprise when another person entered the room questioning the letter and even he was getting a bit irked by hearing the same things over and over again. It was nothing personal to the girl, but he couldn’t help but roll his eyes, and try to mentally prepare himself for more people to walk in as well. He was finding out quickly that this was going to be a very long night if things continued to progress this way. As the turns of talking switched around, Lorelei had a couple of issues to resolve and she let everyone know that with distain in her voice and the volume being raised slightly. Blue eyes couldn’t help but shift from Logan to Gavin to Lorelei as the pieces started to fall into place. It was hard to understand what exactly the female enchantress was going through especially with what she had revealed. If someone he knew had died and no one told him different but secretly they knew – he’d be peeved to say the least. Words escaped him as he processed the information that followed: it had indeed been an enchanter’s doing and that they now had a mission. The word mission seemed to make his stomach twist into knots because he knew that eventually he would be going out with both Logan and Taylor and really getting to see what being a hunter was all about. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he thought of him being the one disappearing and out secretly saving the world. Then, just as peanut butter always needs jelly, the fear soon followed and he had to come to grips that he would be out there putting his life on the line. That was a big deal and there was a lot to consider being a hunter. A new found appreciation for the way Logan and Taylor handled everything in their lives crept into his mind as he continued to watch and listen.

Turning his attention to Lucas, all his questions were starting to be a tad much. The idea of a decaying dog didn’t make Sebastian feel any better considering he hadn’t been prepared for such a new thing, but he knew he would be seeing a lot of weird things for the rest of his life. He was getting used to the whole shock and awe of it all. Eyes went back down to his book, reading line by line; if nothing else, it was really interesting and the topic was something he was interested in. In was then he heard a familiar voice and the same snippy attitude that he had known years before. Heart started racing as he dare not look off of his book. It couldn’t be. That’d be impossible. Well, that was a big fat lie considering Sebastian now knew that anything that was impossible was now possible. “I’m pretty sure we’ve established the basic idea of what’s going on right now. Asking a million questions at the moment is most likely not going to help out the situation nor make anyone’s mood any better. Weird things happen, yes, and will continue to happen – so hold tight and be patient.” Statement was directed at Lucas as he finally took his eyes off the paper. Blue eyes fell upon the new visitors of the room and unfortunately, his suspicions were confirmed. There he was, plain as day looking beat up and.. gross. Before he could even get out words, he took his eyes away from the blond and back to Brayden. Teleported? His mind was going a million miles a minute; wondering why Riley was in Los Angeles, why he was involved in a battle!, and how many secrets he kept from him. Granted Sebastian wasn't all innocent in this either - but still! This very long night turned into a night that would never end..

Gavin Sterling Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:50 pm

FORTUNATE ISLES PENTHOUSE; PATIO. //

It all started getting too claustrophobic in the library, people were frustrated and ignorant to the war that surrounded them. Then there was the group of people that he suspected knew him previously. Normally when Logan and Serik spoke about him in his presence he didn’t care. They would express theories and solutions for restoring his memories, they didn’t coddle him like a child. When Logan stated his concern to these aforementioned strangers about how keeping him away from them was helpful he was inflamed. There were plenty of times the two could have used a few more hands.

The blood in Gavin’s veins tensed and he could feel a swelling around his wrists. Arcane energy in him was calling to be released especially after several years of lying dormant. Mystical traces around the deceased dog that everyone seemed to notice pulled at his attention. Sliding his feet off the table he planted them on the ground. A smoldering energy radiated on the surface of his skin, lightening the hue with an angelic disguise. Potent magic sailed out from the middle of his chest, ribbon-like coils lacing around the dog and reconstructing him from the paws up. Inside the dog’s withered and decomposed organs were brought back to bright fleshy life. The creature itself was resurrected to the dog it once was. The playful spirit of the dog must have also returned because the giant companion padded across the floor with a huge grin and circled Gavin’s legs.

The conjurer reached down to pet the dog and another trickle of raw energy sent the being off instantaneously. He flashed on a hiking trail and a patch of woods but before he could gather any idiosyncratic details he returned standing in the library, without the loyal mutt. The use of his abilities was disorienting, there was a rising in his stomach he eagerly fought. He looked up at Logan confused and then shifted his focus to Lorelei and Brayden. He didn’t give his attention to anyone else before bolting for the den. The moonlight was loosing the war with the approaching sunlight casting an imposing purple glow on the patio. Gavin drew open the sliding glass door and stepped outside dragging his feet as he reached an outside recliner chair. Its rubbery cushions conformed to the weight of his body in a comforting manner. Although his attention centered on his breathing, inhaling and exhaling to drive back the sickness overcoming him. Unexpectedly he jumped to his feet and ran for the stone railing of the balcony. Thick sweaty fingers gripped the edge as he leaned over to hurl, except nothing came out, and the sweat on his forehead seeped back into his skin. Was he healing? The magic was making him sick and then curing him of the sickness as well? What kind of messed up game was his body playing?

[-1 spell point; Resurrection Spell + Guard Dog]
[-1 spell point; Teleportation Spell + Guard Dog]

Logan Kilmartin Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:50 pm

-FORTUNATE ISLES PENTHOUSE-

The tension was still boiling in the library and they didn’t seem to be going anywhere with the fresh faces. Did the enchanter behind the letters hand these things out to the most oblivious? These people were a joke; clearly none of them were soldiers. Well of course except Seiko, and what could she possibly have in common with the rest of them?

“Listen up new guys, because I’m only saying this once. The horde is a faction of ugly looking m*therf*ckers. We’ve discovered that the beings that make up the horde themselves are called “Kreelocks.” They are strong, fast, and organized. They know very little about our world, but they adapt quickly, enough so that they’ve slaughtered towns and towns without us being the wiser. Since I know Taylor ain’t teaching mass classes to a bunch of wet behind the ears types like yourself at the Y, you don’t play on my team. I’m guessing you’re all arcane-noobs. That means you’re this ladies problem.” Logan angled the edge of his books binding at Lorelei “Technically she’s the ‘lucid’ mojo rep.”

Logan’s attention shifted to his hunting pal watching as Dog of the Dead was revived to the living once again. It was a trick he’d always wondered if Conjurer’s could master, and the fact that it was produced with very little effort meant Serik was right about Gavin being tapped into the wrong channel. Before he could utter a word in response though his friend bolted.

Eve Cassidy Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:50 pm

Eve sat there with the letter still in her hand. Questions were still racing through her mind but they were interrupted by two new visitors who at the moment were covered in mud. Eve was wondering what had happened to them. They both looked as if they were attacked and Eve started to think that it might be who the note was speaking of. She crumpled the note in her hand hoping that she wouldn’t have to go through what they both went through.

Eve caught the one new visitor saying that they were teleported here and once again she was wondering by whom. Was it the same girl who was here who just did magic? Surely not for she was in this room before they arrived. Eve knew the lady would have to be near or even with them in order to teleport them. This meant there had to be many people who could do magic. Could she possibly do magic too? Maybe that was why they were here.

Once again Eve’s thoughts were disrupted when someone else started speaking. She looked over and saw a man but she didn’t pay much attention to him for there was a dog by him, a half decaying dog. Eve looked away she couldn’t stand to look at the dog. She knew there had to be much magic behind keeping the dog alive or even bringing it back to life. Eve’s stomach church as the image of the worms crawling out of its fur was burned into her mind. She almost didn’t catch what the man was saying but when he mentioned the lady, Lorelei; Eve looked over to her and was glad that she was finally getting answers.
So the Horde is not just a person but a group of Kreelocks. Eve started to picture an Orc from Lord of the Rings but she doubt that’s what the Kreelocks looked like. Eve also heard the man say that she was an arcane noob. She didn’t know what that meant. What was an Arcane, was it the same thing that Lorelei was or any of the others in the world? Eve turned her attention to Lorelei hoping she would be the next to give her more answers to her unvoiced questions or even just explain everything more.

Lucas Emmerson Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:51 pm

Finally. Answers. It was a bit like talking Greek, but he made the notes anyway. Kreelocks = Hoarde. Ugly, Deadly. Self = arcane noob ( i.e. ask fewer questions and just nod). Surly guy = fount of knowledge. Legs = Fearless leader.

Ok, so it didn't look like much on his little electronic device, but it was leaps and bounds above where he was moments prior. Fido had returned, others seemed to fill out the penthouse, but Luc was pretty sure snooping might have him being turned into a toad. Maybe, maybe not. But he wasn't taking the chance. With his luck, he'd be an amphibian on crutches with his legs fried and served by some waiter named Jean le Fleur with paisley socks.

He knew like most that arcane meant magic, but he was haivng a hard time mentally equating it with the real world. His world. His thoughts niggled at him, flashes of memory, instances that seemed strange at the time that he had passed off as his imagination. Those thoughts had a voice within telling him that magic was not as far fetched as he would like to believe. It wasn't CGI and it wasn't some hippie voodoo. It was real, it was dangerous, and it was now a part of him.

Tanned fingers pushed through his hair, palm resting at the base of his neck to squeeze out the tension residing there. It was a lot to take in, a lot to accept without question. But the guy in the mud was right, the letter was pretty self explanitory. So what were his choices? Luc was a big fan of personal freedom, but in this case it seemed his options were slim. Leave and die. Stay and fight...then die. Or maybe he'd tap into whatever power was lurking within him and manage to survive it?

Luc realized that as he lapsed into his own thoughts that he'd started pacing. So the movement stopped and he dropped his phone back into his pocket for later usage. Brown eyes fell once again to the others, waiting for the next shoe to drop. Hopefully, not atop his head.

Carolina Kenyon Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:51 pm

As Riley talked to the tuxedo wearing gentleman, Carolina stuffed the letter back into her pocket, or attempted to anyway. Taking down the partial updo, she pulled the wet strands into a rough ponytail, the gold threads now a tangled mess within the black.

Her attention shifted to the others as they spoke, noting the papers in some of their hands, very similar to her own. Carolina frowned. Had they received a text message earlier as well, but had been smart enough or rather just not curious enough to not follow it’s directions? The sight of the dog made her stomach turn a little bit , but really atop of everything else that had happened that day, it fit right in. And then it wasn’t as dead looking as before. Her lips moved to form the words that had been spoken by about everyone there, but didn’t need to be said as Logan answered hers and everyone else question.

Well.. That was enough to make anyone a little depressed. Not only was she a ‘noob’ but worse, she’d not even known she was a noob at anything. Hadn’t known there was someone more experienced with what was going on. And now that she was finally getting answers, it came from someone who didn’t seem too terribly interested or thrilled to be giving them. Really. What a Debbie downer. Not that Carolina felt like a ray of sunshine herself.

She looked to the woman, who might be able to tell them more, and hoped that she’d be willing to do so. Carolina would really like her blood to stay where it was, thank you very much. She didn’t think it would make a good bath.

Plotline Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:52 pm

the griddle café / ofelia's apartment
ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST

The Griddle Café had seen its share of visitors and employees. The rain, while curiously out of the blue, hadn’t put much of a damper on the establishment. The closing hours dwindled closer, and the customers were leaving as soon as they had finished the last of their meals. One customer stood in the rain with a multi-colored umbrella, waiting for her chance to partake in the experience of eating the café’s food. Once Ofelia Doncella had finally waited out her turn, she was sat in the establishment and quickly served – as one of the last customers of the day, she was treated with care and generosity that may have been interpreted as mannerisms for a bigger tip. Her waitress seemed nice enough, though; her bubbly personality fit well with Ofelia’s, so the redhead shared no ill will towards the employee.

“The grilled cheese is fabulous; I’ll get one to you quickly, sug.”

The waitress’ words tickled the redhead. Los Angeles was turning out to be way better than she thought it was going to be after her attack. The fear that she had hiding away within her was trickling down to nothing – maybe she had been too quick to judge the city. Not everyone could be bad, right? A vibration in her pocket alerted her to a new text message, but when she checked it she found that her inbox was too full – thus her phone deleted it. Shrugging off the missed message, she continued about her time, not thinking much of it. Her food didn’t take too long to reach her, and when she finished, she thanked her waitress and headed out into the rain.

Had Ofelia been paying attention to her surroundings when she reached her apartment, she would have noticed the air around her steadily dissipating. At times, green hues would catch minute glimpses of the changes, though she wrote it off as her eyes being tired. The silver-skinned being stalked her all the way home, unnoticed by Ofelia’s deceiving eyes. Stealthily, the lone creature hunted its prey, much like it had done to escape its home plane – without its tricks, it would have perished along with the rest of its clan. Ofelia made it to her apartment complex unscathed, though not unharmed – a headache throbbed on, perhaps as a warning for what was to come.

Gingerly moving down the long hall, she stopped, placing her hand against the wall for support. The headache pounded harder, causing a dizzy feeling to wash over the girl. Blinking, she tried focusing her eyes, which made her catch sight of a friendly womanly figure just in front of her. A hand was placed on her shoulder, and Ofelia back away, before recognized the stranger as the waitress from the café.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you at first. I didn’t know you lived here.” Trying to make polite conversation, the dancer stared forward at the polite waitress – though the woman in front of her only smiled. What stood in front of her was not who she thought it to be, though the headache that pressed against her brain masked the enemy in illusions created from Ofelia’s own hands. The waitress moved towards Ofelia, cold hand gripping along her throat and pushing her up against the wall. Another hand reached up, pinning her mouth closed to keep her from screaming. As Ofelia’s head slammed into the wall behind her, the illusions wrapped around the silver-skinned foe tweaked back and forth, fading the imagery around her from the form of the waitress and back again.

The scaly hand cut thin lines into the redhead’s cheek, and a wicked smile tugged at the creature’s mouth. Quickly, the hand covering Ofelia’s mouth was removed, but as the young Illusionist went to scream, the creature’s mouth opened in unison. The sounds that surrounded the two seemed nonexistent, nothing reaching either’s ears no matter how much the girl tried screaming. The only sound to eventually be heard was the sick vacuuming noise that accompanied the creature’s inhaling breaths – and as Ofelia continued screaming, an eerie mist leaked from inside her body, being greedily swallowed by the Mephit. Dinner was served, and as the last of the mist-like substance was drained from the girl, her skin lost its color and sunk tightly against its bones. The blood inside was still, though it was the main cause of the Mephit’s hunt – deliver a young Arcanist’s blood to the Horde and be rewarded.

Taking Ofelia’s body with it, the creature sank into the vapors it created. With no signs of struggle, no one would be missing the Doncella girl.

Taylor Sullivan Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:52 pm

LOS ANGELES HIGHWAY

The rain had slowed down some but it was still enough to annoy her. Things would be so much easier if it just stopped. Heaven forbid her job was easy for once then we’d really have an issue. Hazel eyes fell on the brunette who ruined her perfectly good vase. After everything was said and done, she was still being questioned about whether or not her decisions were the right ones. Really? How, after everything, could there still be doubt in someone’s mind? Granted, it’s easy for her to say to get out of the bus, but to the scared civilian they wouldn’t leave without hardcore proof. Before she could respond, the young woman’s friend chimed in and said what Taylor was going to say except nicer. “It's ultimately your choice, but if you’re not going to listen to me – at least listen to your friend.” The point was put across in a way that wasn’t too harsh. For how Taylor felt, that was a big deal for her not to be more blunt about the situation. As the injured passengers exited the battered bus one by one she took out her phone and put it under the shelter of the bus (mostly because she didn’t want the rain to kill it). Before the screen was covered with rain drops, Taylor texted a quick message to Logan. It was nothing special but it was to let him know she was on her way to the penthouse. The only catch was she wasn’t going to be alone and she would be bringing four people with her. If the Kelfazu showed up on the bus that meant that either they were terrorizing people for pure entertainment or they tracked arcane blood and wanted to cash in. She figured it was the latter considering the shadow kind focused on the people she would eventually pull aside. Unfortunately if she was right, there would be a lot of trouble coming to Los Angeles. Except, she wasn’t 100% sure about the most injured one who took her dagger. He attacked over and over again to the point where she couldn’t make a distinction. Whatever, he was coming too. The friend of the young woman came out and handed Taylor her weapon and they weren’t in little pieces! Grabbing it by the hand strap, there was no way that was going over her shoulder considering she had an idea of how bad they looked. “Thanks.” A small smile appeared on her face and nodded. “I promise I’ll let you know what happened.” Even though she could barely breathe, soaked to the bone, and felt like she had gashes in her shoulder – there was nothing like being reunited with her weapons and knowing they were all in one piece. At least to this huntress her weapons made her spirit raise in the midst of chaos.

The four people she needed to talk to were closest to her and she took the opportunity to let them know what was going on, “I’ll bring you to a safe place. Again, I’m not going to force you, but it'd probably be best for you to come – plus, you’ll get answers. I’ll tell you on the way there.”

FORTUNATE ISLES PENTHOUSE; 30 MINUTES LATER

As the minutes passed, Taylor was starting to feel the effects of the small encounter on the bus. Whatever wounds she had on her shoulders now were covered with dried blood that had run down her back earlier. It didn’t matter if she was hurt or not, she just wanted to get back and get out of her soaking wet clothes and into some warm, dry ones. Looking back to her small group, she finished explaining why she thought they were targeted and where they were going. If not more importantly, she explained what exactly the Horde was and things were about a thousand times more dangerous then they were earlier this afternoon. The mere fact that they had arcane blood in their system automatically put a big bullseye on their chests. She didn't want to freak them out, but there was really no time to sugar-coat anything. Also, she didn't feel like answering a million questions once they got to the penthouse. That’s all the information they needed to know while she was dealing with her injuries simultaneously. She really hoped that Lorelei wouldn’t mind what was about to happen and hoped that she was in a good mood. Logan was there, so there was a good chance that wouldn’t be her current state of mind. Walking a tad slower that she usually did, the small group made its way to the front door of the penthouse. On the bright side? No one was dead and everyone had all their limbs – that was always a benefit. A blood covered hand (courtesy of the Kelfazu and not her) reached out for the doorknob and went ahead opening the door. “Shut the door behind you.” The statement wasn’t directed at anyone in particular just being respectful of the apartment. Dropping her back to the floor, she felt weight lifted from her abdomen and shoulders. Wincing, she moved further into the living room and turned back to the group. “I’ll try and get towels and first aid supplies.” By this point everyone was dripping wet and looked utterly tired by the events that happened, Taylor included. Hearing voices in the distance she knew people were in the apartment but she wasn’t about to leave a group of strangers in the middle of a new place. They were most likely in the library considering Taylor sent Sebastian to help Logan research something. It's like she had a stand in now! All joking aside, Taylor turned back on the newbies and tried to remember where the towels and such were. It didn't help that her body was screaming at her. Wonderful.

Seiko Ishitomo Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:52 pm

-Fortunate Isles Penthouse-

"Gah!"
She made no attempt at being polite or modest as that audible breath ripped through supple, unpainted lips as she forced herself up from her seat. Slender arms crossed beneath the ample swell of breasts barely contained by a snug fitting, black tank top. As she would turn, the silky, crimson strap of her bra fell from the ledge of her tattooed shoulder while narrowed emerald pools bore deep into the eyes of Lucas. The man's insistence, though understandable given the dire message in the letter, wore her nerves as thin as paper.

"I swear to God if you don't shut the f*ck up and pay attention.." Though the threat never formed in her throat, the words that had left it should have served well enough warning; Incessantly, she turned and looked upon Logan, an arm leaving it's perch beneath those breasts to push its servant hand through shimmering black locks, exposed the numerous chrome rings dangling from her ears.

" I'll be in the shower. Don't let anything fun happen while I'm gone?" A final glance over her shoulder toward Lucas and Eve caused her to smirk; Inwardly, she knew that these two were oblivious and they couldn't be held accountable for that. But she would never let that little secret leave the sanctuary of her thoughts. So, with surprising grace for someone so brash, the beauty slipped from the overly crowded library and took a left, making only one short side trip to collect the bag she'd dropped just inside the foyer before heading for the nearest guest bedroom. Fortunately, she was a few seconds ahead of Taylors entrance or all hell would have broke loose, to say the two didn't like each other was an understatement.

Inside, she used the heel of her boot to push the door shut, but it failed to close completely. Tossing that red and gray jansport onto the bed Seiko placed the tantalizing curvature of her ass into the plush cushions of a chair. As she tugged away the laces of those boots, she couldn't help but think of how simple it would all be if she hand never known about Logan, the arcanists or this god forsaken war. But anything was better then constant sedation and behavior altering medications that left her so lethargic, you could have easily thought her one of the Kroman families manifestations. Free from those boots, she procured a towel and shed various article of clothing on her way to the bathroom. Within minutes, steam rolled from the cracked bathroom door and the sound of water against a naked body was all one would hear from Seiko..

Daphne Fuller Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:52 pm

…Abducted by a Madman
Entrance, The Forunate Isles Penthouse

Arrogant prick was the first thing to come to Daphne Fuller’s mind. The nerve he had! The thought of him made her blood boil and her skin crawl. Never in her life had she met a more presumptuous male. Which was odd considering her life back in New York, few would dare to man handle her the way he had and for no reason at all! Her day had started out like any other day with an agenda to follow. Her goals had been simple—browse the blvd, attempt to look for a place to rent, and find the nearest kick boxing school. Relaxed and easy. That’s what it should have been, yet it was nothing but. Ever since the odd dream she had, her life had been one revelation after the next. She couldn’t shake the strange feeling that eyes were watching her everywhere she went. A feeling deep in the pit of her stomach had churned, something just didn’t feel right. Those feelings were only compounded when she had received a text message earlier to visit a graveyard at night. Why on earth would anyone expect her to go? She had no friends or acquaintances in Los Angeles and it was a graveyard! What low life prankster would draw its prey out by suggesting a burial cite? What idiot would even go?

Daphne ignored the summons and went about her day as if nothing happened. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had somewhere to be. Night descended quickly and the rain poured in. When she finally arrived at the hotel desk in the Four Seasons, a message had been waiting for her. Curious, no one knew she was staying there nor did anyone know she had left. Her trip was supposed to be an escape. Taking the letter from the woman, she offered a nod and headed towards the couch situated off to the side. Emerald hues glanced from one way to the next as she unfolded the note. It was heavy since it was wrapped around something large. Tipping the letter over a crystal fell into her awaiting palm. Eyes wide, it was the same exact crystal from her dream. Frustrated, a low growl escaped as every muscle in her body tensed. Was this some kind of joke? Was someone watching her in amusement because of this? Daphne wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Without a second thought, she stuffed the note and crystal into her bag, deep into the abyss of her mind. This had gone on long enough and she no longer would play the part that was given to her. Determined, she left the hotel behind and made her way out. She wouldn’t take a taxi as she pulled an umbrella out of her bag to ward off the rain. Blindly she walked out into the storm as she refused to look back at the elegant archway.

It only took fifteen minutes before chance left her on her ass, sprawled on the wet sidewalk. “Are you just going to stare or are you going to help me up after you rudely plowed over me?” They were a mess of tangled limbs as she practically cried out. Her black romper was soaked through, but that was the least of her worries. With a mess of scattered belongings and her knitted chestnut locks, Daphne reached over to collect her things as she cursed under her breath. She didn’t even look at the steamroller that had collided with her. What should have been an apology had been anything but that. In the course of ten seconds, the petite socialite had found herself in a vice like grip. “Get your hands off me!” Her protests did little to snap his mind from its stubborn gorilla-like manner. He was a wretched beast with absolutely no sense. The letter in his hand was what caught her attention, the root of all her problems. She had barely read what was on it, yet he had been intrigued by the words. It was futile to fight him, yet she didn’t care. Dragged by the hand, she pulled in the opposite direction. When he stopped to tug harder, a wicked smirk curled at the corners of her lips. In one fell swoop, she jammed the heel of her scandals into his thick shin. His yell of surprise had given her enough of a distraction to wrangle her wrist out of his hold. Her success though only lasted momentarily as his lightening quick reflexes snatched her back. “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m not going anywhere other than a police station!” She was furious and all she had been able to do was incite his own fury.

Their trip wasn’t far—he might have overpowered her but she refused to make it easy for him. Squinting her eyes, Daphne looked up towards the condo before them. She had promptly ignored him the entire way with her nose high in the air as he pulled her inside.

Dominic Hayes Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:53 pm

Fate’s Prey
The Fortunate Isles Penthouse

“Come on already!” A firm grasp jerked the limp hand lying in his large palm. Growling in frustration, this was not what Dominic Hayes had in mind when he came to Los Angeles. Babysitting was not in his job description, yet that was exactly how he felt at that very moment. Honey brown eyes narrowed at the brunette he was tugging behind him. He had never met a woman quite like her before, she was just as bad if not worst than one particular Eldritch Hunter he had known. The ends of his lips briefly curled up in amusement at the thought. A year and a half ago his life had been very different. The last place he ever expected to be was on the Pacific coast. His life was back in Baltimore, working with the smell of salt in the air while his nights were spent in a classroom. It was the typical story of a man in his twenties—nothing special or extraordinary about it. All that had changed and since then his life had been one long, never-ending rollercoaster. Words couldn’t describe it. Mentally shaking his head, heavy footsteps would exit the elevator and walk towards the large double doors situated at the end of the hall. He was met with little resistance, but he could have sworn he heard a hmph from behind him. The hunter refused to acknowledge her for the time being. Shortly everything would be set straight, and she would directly be out of his hair and deposited off on another unsuspecting victim. While he had never personally met the owner of the Penthouse, Dominic had heard stories of the spitfire former-enchantress who currently resided there. She may have no longer had her powers, but the Head of the Enchanter family had supposedly given Logan a run for his money—quite literally in fact. His friend and mentor rarely crossed paths with Lorelei Ashford, but when they did, sparks were known to fly even at hundreds of miles in distance from one another.

Ironically their path would bring them face to face, how fate liked to play with all their heads. It had been by sheer coincidence that he had run into that when he was already on his way over here. Sebastian had sent him a text to come by, and on his way her ran head long into the stubborn wench. Catching sight of the little black number she wore, his eyes lingered for an instant until that big mouth of her’s opened. The spell only lasted for a moment before any attraction could take place. He knew her kind well. She had fallen to the ground as she immediately proceeded to bite his head off. During the chaos, the contents of her bag had poured out which included the infamous note. He had barely glanced at the parchment only to catch the word Horde. Dominic couldn’t believe his eyes. After that, the rest was a blur. Her protests were brushed off, but it was obvious to him that she was somehow an intricate part of the puzzle. She unfortunately had to come along until the rest was sorted out. He had to give her props though, his shin still ached from the kick she had given him with her heel. If it hadn’t been for the sole fact that he was trained and twice her size, she would have gotten away. Dominic would have been left with more than just a bruised leg but a bruised ego as well.

Gritting his pearly whites together, he reached for the door and entered what seem to be the twilight zone or a zoo. One arrogant brow raised as he looked around the richly polished furniture, his eyes catching sight of another he was well acquainted with. “Well aren’t you a piece of work, rolled around with the dogs again?” Laughter tinged the end of his words as those warm chocolate hues scanned the cuts and scarps on the woman she her back was turned towards him. Without a second thought he practically tossed the arm of the girl towards the others standing around looking just as bedraggled. “I must say though Sullivan, you might want to wipe your feet first. Wouldn’t want you soiling the oriental rugs.” He closed the distance between them as he caught sight of her gaze with nothing but amusement sparkling and reflecting in his own. “I’ll leave you to it though.” Patting her on the back and turning his head towards the unknown woman who had accompanied him, a finger was curled to beckon her. “Everyone is in the library so it’s best if we all stick together and await assignment.” Sebastian had briefed him earlier, but that still left a big gapping hole in their plans of attack. What happened next was anyone’s guess. He was just happy not to be in charge at the moment.

(Dominic continues here.)

Riley Cameron Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:54 pm

MUD ON THE CARPET
FORTUNATE ISLES PENTHOUSE

“Someone teleported you here? That sounds like.. It sounds like a Conjurer.”

The man who answered him stood beside the femme fatale he had addressed, though Riley was just thankful for some sort of explanation as to how the kind stranger had performed the feats he had. Even though the art of Conjuration was lost to him, it didn’t take much explaining – obviously a Conjurer could teleport and heal; any other details could be figured out later. Nodding his head towards the taller male, Riley then looked towards the businessman he had spoken to before. He had been about to make another snappy comment, but a voice from the other side of the room spoke before he had the chance. The voice sounded all too familiar to him, though the tone left no room for doubt. If Riley were to turn around and look, he would have found Sebastian sitting at the table. His stomach felt like it was doing somersaults. As the day progressed, stranger things kept popping up.

A gruff voice cut through Riley’s thoughts, and the blond turned to listen to the rough male. As Logan spoke, the young Evoker felt his nerves running on end. Kreelocks? The very term sent mini-quakes down his spine. Taking in his bottom lip, he nibbled it anxiously; apparently, he was an arcane-noob, though that also made him a target for these demonic creatures. The blonde casted a glance towards Carolina, but found her gaze focusing on the brunette woman from earlier. If she was their leader, then what would they do to protect themselves?

“He was killed by what woman?”

Brayden’s words echoed in Riley’s head, causing the scenes from the graveyard to play once more throughout his mind: being tackled to the ground by the woman, attacked and then attacking back, running to the mausoleum and being assaulted by zombies, and then climbing atop the alcove and offering help only to watch the nicest stranger teleport him away to be left at the hands of the creatures. The idea didn’t settle very nicely, and Riley had to fight back the guilt that was forming on his conscious. He hadn’t been able to do anything, but he had been trying to – it just hadn’t been enough.

“She looked young, maybe my age, with dirty blonde hair. She attacked us all in the graveyard, but whenever I hit her, she morphed into this hideous, skinless beast. I’m not sure if it helps, but it was like she was controlling the things around us. At one point, she even had gravestones flying at us. The odd thing was, they all had one word etched into them: ‘Abrams’.” If that meant something to any of the experienced ones in the room, maybe they could get somewhere – maybe it was the key to saving the stranger, if the witchbitch had taken him prisoner instead of murdering him. He hoped no harm had come to the older male, but he knew the other hadn’t been spared; he just didn’t want to think about it.

(Riley continues here..)

Brayden Abrams Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:54 pm

[ of course there's more ]
FORTUNATE ISLES PENTHOUSE

Brayden watched with Gavin with a curious eye, still not sure how to handle the news that his friend was alive and amnesiac, rather than dead like he and Lorelei had thought him to be. The energy that erupted from the Conjurer’s chest had him gasping, and he barely managed to catch a last glimpse of the deceased Chuckles before he was resurrected before his eyes. The dog pounded its feet across the floor as it bounded towards Gavin, passing Brayden and leaving him speechless. He had known that his childhood friend had been able to heal those in need, but he hadn’t known that he had been able to resurrect with his powers. Had he always been able to do that? The information that was enveloping his mind was overwhelming, and it certainly didn’t help the headache that was still angrily beating against his skull.

Logan’s words snapped him from his reverie, and he looked towards Lorelei as she was appointed as the leader for the new Arcanists. When had new ones been called? It had always been something that he had thought about over the past two years; in fact, he feared that the calling of new crafters meant that he and Lorelei would be powerless for the rest of their lives. It seemed like this wasn’t the case – the mana once more coursing through his veins was reassurance. Whether he admitted it or not, he was glad that Lorelei had been the one chosen – she had more than stepped up to the plate whenever her time had come when their powers were taken, so it seemed fit that she’d be the one leading everyone now. His eye caught Gavin’s, and as the other dashed for the den, the Evoker felt a tug to follow – could speaking with him jog his memory? He didn’t even know if mystical amnesia induced by the Arcane plane was the same as regular amnesia; how did someone recover what was lost there? Or did they ever?

“The odd thing was, they all had one word etched into them: ‘Abrams’.”

He coughed. If that was some sort of sick joke, the Evoker didn’t find it funny in the least bit. His hands balled up into fists, his thumbs crossing over each of his fingers as he popped them to relieve stress. “Abrams?” His whole family had been wiped out in the wars. Everyone was buried, all of their bodies recovered – save for the youngest of his family, Alison. The girl’s body hadn’t been found after Alec had died protecting her, but everyone else rested underneath the soil like regular corpses. Could Alison have survived? The first description sounded like her enough, but the transformation was far from her abilities. In fact, the latter description sounded similar to a lich – nasty, undead creatures that had attacked the Arcanists before. Could Alison have—? No, he wouldn’t think of it.

The vibration of his phone alerted him to a call, and while the timing was somewhat inappropriate, he picked up the cool metal as a welcome distraction. He didn’t bother screening the number before he answered, though perhaps it would’ve been the best thing to do. Stepping out of the library and into the den, he answered and watched as Gavin dry-heaved over the balcony. “Yes, this is Brayden Abrams.” The voice on the other end held another confusing loop to throw him – he was gruffly informed that a family member of his needed to be picked up from downtown.

“Excuse me? I think you have the wrong Brayden Abrams.”

“Nah, he’s askin’ for you. You’re the doctor, right?”

“Uh, yes, I am. What’s the name?”

“Says his name is Sam. Yah know him or not?”

Sam. He groaned, raising a hand to his forehead to press against his temple. Sam Breyand was Serik – hadn’t he just disappeared again around two hours ago? Today was truly the day from Hell. Clearing his throat, Brayden answered the police chief and agreed to come bail the other out of his cell. Brown hues continued to watch as the Conjurer outside continued dry heaving. What else did the day hold for him?

“Good, make sure yah bring a change of clothes. Yah brother’s missing his.” Click. He could only imagine what the Essentian had done in order to land himself in jail of all places. He wouldn’t waste too much time in telling the others where he was going, but he did slip in through the library to whisper his reason for leaving into the sole Ashford’s ear. ‘Serik’s in jail,’ seemed like a good reason to bail on the chaotic situation in the Penthouse – he didn’t pay any attention to the newcomers he passed on his way out either; the less he had to deal with, the better.

Alisa Madison Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:54 pm

Entrance, The Fortunate Isles Penthouse

After everything that happened that night, Ally was surprised to find herself still…well surprised by the night’s events. But as she stared up at the building, she let out a deep breath. First attacked by monsters, now about to enter a lavish and obviously rich apartment building. When she woke up this morning, she certainly didn’t expect this. But of course who could be prepared for the events of the day? Well, besides the woman leading them of course.

Realizing that as she was gawking, everyone else was following the woman inside, she snapped back to attention. Sweeping her dark dripping lock out of her eyes, she hurried to follow them, thankful for the shelter and warmth that enveloped her as soon as she entered the doors. Quickly, they went through the lobby and into the elevator, all the while absorbed in the rapid explanation of the brunette woman. Even though she was listening, Ally still couldn’t understand what she was talking about. Arcane blood? Horde? It just didn’t make any sense. Still, she didn’t speak up, even though she wanted to. She just slowly followed them down the hall into a penthouse. Somehow she knew she needed to get some answers before the day was over.

“Shut the door behind you.”

When nobody moved, Ally hurriedly did as instructed, all the while wondering if she should just leave now while she can. While the door was open. But the moment of doubt as well as the door shut within an instant. Even though she didn’t exactly believe the explanation she was given, she decided to stick around. Ally just knew that she didn’t want to go home. Especially alone. And even though she couldn’t explain it, she felt safe with these people. Although perhaps this wasn’t too hard to believe seeing as they had just survived an escape from death together. And ironically, she still didn’t even know any of their names besides Brian.

Before anyone could speak up, the door sprang open again and a handsome man and beautiful but seething mad woman came strolling in. Well, him strolling as she was dragged before being shoved at the rest of them. Caught by surprise at the sudden movement, her thin arms flew out to steady herself, but alas those years of ballet went down the drain as she lost her balance. Stumbling into the others, Ally steadied herself on the wall with one arm as she reached out to help the other girl up. She let out a deep breath before giving the woman-Sullivan an inquiring look. “Assignment?” She couldn’t help asking as her gaze trailed to the man who spoke.

Logan Kilmartin Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:55 pm

-FORTUNATE ISLES PENTHOUSE-

After his “enlightening” verbal reposite to all the newbie’s questions the Eldritch hunter had taken a seat once again. Although his focus was derailed again when his pant’s pocket vibrated in response to Taylor’s text message. Logan leaned back and dug his hand into his jeans pulling the device up and into his line of sight. A bright flashing mail icon alerted that there were two unread messages awaiting him. The first and most recent one came from his long-term hunting partner, Taylor. She was all business and even her text messages had a stoic demeanor to their voice. Generally Logan had a tendency to swing towards the role of a serious soldier, but with all of Gavin’s “good” influences he also persuaded Logan to indulge more often. From Taylor’s message it seemed as if he hadn’t been the only one randomly surrounded by horde-snacks. Of course she was probably handling it better. Logan had no desire to be involved with anyone newly enhanced with arcane juice. He still had problems with the old crowd.

The former Order of Eldritch hunters were originally suppose to protect those that wielded magic, but most of the time the spell wars were more frequently waged between the families and not the real enemies. Now that it seemed as if the Arcanists were chosen randomly without specific bloodlines it looked as if there was a chance for a free-for-all.

Logan’s thumb grazed across the “save” button while scanning to see if there was anymore to the message and then he jabbed his appendage into the “delete” button. Instantly the screen took him to the second message, but before he could even identify his contact he whipped his head around to catch the words of his fellow hunter. Seiko wasn’t a people person, one trait he sometimes admired. In his earlier Eldritch career his behavior had been very similar. When the behemoth wiped out the order and left all the responsibility on the shoulders of Sullivan and himself he had to man up. Seiko was able to say and do things he had a craving to own himself, so at least his perspective was being represented.

Logan pointed his toes up while sliding his right foot along the ground underneath the table. He gingerly bit the right side of his lower lip while forming suggestive images in his dirty mind as soon as Seiko revealed her intention to shower. He was at a loss of words, truly there had to be a joke in there somewhere. A steamy bathroom with her busty naked body soaking wet … there’s no way anything out here could possibly be more fun. Of course, just as he was having inappropriate thoughts Taylor appeared. She looked a little worse for wear, but he’d seen her wearing worse so technically it wasn’t out of the ordinary.

Afton Kroman Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:55 pm

-The penthouse, where else?-

The door that had been used to shield the Necromancer only moment's prior; consequently, tore itself wide open with such emmence ferocity that with the conclusion of its swing, embedded its intricate knob deep into the sheet rock of the wall beside it. From this clatter stepped that sinewy Russian whose abundant muscle contracted beneath a snug fitting, black dress shirt. Rolled sleeves constricted around meaty forearms as fists coiled in response to the sudden vanishing of his creation. Adelina was not there to address Afton's violence and perhaps it was this reason alone that the necromancer was near the point of destroying the one responsible. Heavy foot falls hit the floor with intent as Afton started his way toward Gavin but in the moment before he would reach the room leading to him, a voice, both ethereal and domineering commanded him otherwise. The voice belonged to no one in the penthouse, but to the only female that could ever abate his ire.

Nyet...

That single, soft flowing word came to his mind, that familiar tone so vivid he nearly swore that she were there.. Malevolent gold eyes shielded themselves behind fleshy lids as the voice echoed through each passage of his subconscious mind. A quick shake of his head cleared the fog of anger in his mind before those eyes shifted to Brayden stepping out of the library to take a phone call. Overhearing a bit of the conversation, Afton waited for the youth to dismiss himself and exit toward him. As Brayden neared, Afton pushed from the wall he'd taken a temporary lean aganst and stare at Brayden, perhaps a bit more intensely then needed before he spoke in that gruff, heavily accented baritone that sounded more a guttural growl then anything else.

"I will go with you.." Mind you the w's sounded like v's and the r's rolled heavily off his tounge. "The echoes of death are heavy here..." To Brayden, this may have seemed like a trait of the Kroman lineage. to hear the dead, but strangely, Afton only just started hearing faint echoes of what he could only guess where spirits. whispering warnings of their demise. So, with or without Brayden's approval, Afton took to leading them to the elevator, and once the two were inside Afton bypassed the lobby button and hit G.

"We will take my car.. Much faster." He spoke in clips as if he were still getting the hang of the English language, learning only phrases taught to him by Adelina. Though he sounded nieve, it was a bad idea to underestimate The Necromancer's intelligence.

Serik Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:55 pm

YOU WON'T TAKE ME ALIVE COPPERS!;
DETENTION CENTER, LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT. >>

When Brayden and Afton reached the Los Angeles Police department they were promptly brought to the short-term detention center. The building was like a mini prison with several guarded and high-security doorways. The officer in charge of Serik’s release was a short, curvaceous woman with a warm dark mocha complexion. Her ebony locks were braided and rolled into a severe bun that served to remind those that gazed upon her just what role she held. Officer Bates rarely curled the ends of her lips when she spoke to them, and the slight hint of bags under her eyes professed just how much she withstood in her line of work. If not for the make-up they would see a reflection of her service behind the badge.

When they reached one of the sterile conventional conference rooms she sat the two of them down and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. Behind her was a large two-way mirror and on the other side Serik was handcuffed to a table in a small room with dark walls. In this setting she seemed to lighten up a little as she spoke with them. Most certainly it was Brayden’s magnetic charm that lifted the stone cold demeanor.

“Now ya’ll know this is the city of drunk driving starlets so we’ve ‘ad auh fair share-a crazies, but I ‘ave to say boys this is one odd-situation. Your buddy Sam was originally found buck neked breaking into an Urban Outfitters on Melrose and North Stanley Ave. Cops on-da scene chased ‘im all around the store and eventually they ‘adda taze ‘im when ‘e almost escaped out the employee parking garage.”

Meanwhile behind the officers back Serik had stood up from the chair and began dragging the table with him to the only door in the room. He eventually realized if he turned the table over he could slip the cuff off the object. He hastily turned the table on its side and slid the metal restraint from the leg. Now there was the little problem of the locked door, meanwhile the officer continued addressing Serik’s crimes completely oblivious. “Then when ‘e was apprehended ‘e said and I quote ‘I will ‘ave you all for dinnah polyester paladins.’ Suffice to say they were no amused.”

As the officer recounted the story of Serik’s run in with the law there was a droning rhythm to her voice, as if she was exhausted from meeting the fallen Essentian, although what hadn’t made itself clear was her sympathy for him. In the short amount of time she’d met the strange boy he’d began to grow on her. She’d never outright admit it of course. Like so many movies Serik’s eyes rose to the air vent, he turned up the table and climbed onto the surface to reach the grate. He used the loose metal cuff to bend the flimsy cage and when the holes were big enough for his fingers he yanked continuously at the barrier.

“When ‘e was brought in originally they threw ‘im in the drunk tank. An ‘auh later there was a ruckus going on about missing wallets and we found them all in Sam’s possession.” Eventually the cage gave way and Serik flung backwards startled by the release and his body tumbled to the ground hitting the chair with his fall. The former Essentian screamed in agony and consistently echoed a tiny release of cries in response. The throbbing pain from the chair and the fall was too potent to shrug off, why did everything hurt being human, he felt so weak.

“Cops figuad, well let’s give ‘im a taste of the cold ‘ard streets. So we put ‘im in with the ‘ookers and streetwalkers. What does ‘e do? The guy starts choreographing them all to perform Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance. The whole messed up thing woulda been cute if ‘e ‘adn’t knocked one out so ‘e could steal-‘er blond wig. Finally we put ‘im inna cell by ‘imself, but the little guy kept trying to break out. I don’t know what makes you tink you can take care of ‘im, but goodluck to you. I suggest you seek some serious methods, because I’m pretty sure ‘e’s clinical.”

In the background Serik had finally climbed into the vent and his legs were dangling out from the small crevice, if only Officer Bates would have been more observant she would know just how true her words were.

Brian Botner Fri Mar 26, 2010 8:02 pm

LOS ANGELES HIGHWAY

The woman smiled briefly and nodded as she took back her weapons. “Thanks. I promise I’ll let you know what happened.”

Brian returned the nod, his insides bubbling with a happy-scared eagerness. As much as he desired to know what was happening, a part of him was afraid. All of his life he had been normal enough, and he'd been content with it. Until now. The thought that there was another world hidden inside of the one he had lived in for twenty-three years was unreal - but welcome. This was why he had moved to L.A., right? Some new experiences. But why was so much changing all of a sudden? What forces were at work, what had brought them all together? Why had he not only been attacked by a harpy, but had had to fight some ghastly, unnamed creatures on a metro?

But the woman's promise kept his questions unspoken, for now, and he concentrated on getting the rest of the people out of the bus. Someone had called the police, and within minutes Brian could hear the sirens and see the flashing lights of approaching cop cars. He and Ally, along with the lance-happy individual and the woman who had stood up to the expert fighter, were near said fighter. She got their attention, saying in an undertone, “I’ll bring you to a safe place. Again, I’m not going to force you, but it'd probably be best for you to come – plus, you’ll get answers. I’ll tell you on the way there.”

The small pack edged out of the crowd that was anxiously waving down the police, and disappeared into the darkness. The exhaustion Brian had felt when he had gotten onto the bus had crept back up on him in the few minutes he had been out of it, but it was pushed out of his system by a new rush of adrenaline. He and the others followed the woman down and off the highway until they reached a condo, hanging on to her every word.

By the end of her explanation, Brian was a believer.

FORTUNATE ISLES PENTHOUSE | ENTRANCE

“Shut the door behind you.”

Ally hurried to obey the woman, who dropped her bag to the carpet. She winced as she took a look at the lot of them, dripping rainwater, grime and, in some cases, blood from not-yet-clotted cuts, onto the plush fabric. Even from what Brian had seen of the penthouse so far, virtually nothing, he was impressed. Whoever had decorated the place had good taste...and would probably be furious at the state he or she found the place in after he and the others had left footprints all over.

“I’ll try and get towels and first aid supplies,” said the woman wearily, and was about to leave when a man and woman burst into the room. The young woman was seething, and he violently thrust her into the pack. They collectively stumbled as she tumbled into them; Ally reached out a hand to help her up. The man then addressed their guide.

“Well aren’t you a piece of work, rolled around with the dogs again? I must say though Sullivan, you might want to wipe your feet first. Wouldn’t want you soiling the oriental rugs," he said snidely, patting her on the back. Brian winced; her injuries were extensive, and that had had to hurt. And who was this man, to speak to her this way? She - Sullivan - had saved them all! "I’ll leave you to it though. Everyone is in the library so it’s best if we all stick together and await assignment,” he said to the woman he had practically dragged inside.

"Assignment?" asked Ally. Brian turned his attention back to the man, ready to learn more about this new life.

Brayden Abrams Fri Mar 26, 2010 8:02 pm

[ jailhouse blues ]
DETENTION CENTER - LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT

As he passed the new intruders – sans Taylor and Dominic, who he actually knew – he fought the urge to turn around and head back into the library. Part of him felt guilty for leaving Lorelei in the middle of the ensuing chaos, but he couldn’t leave Serik at the station any longer. Before he made his way out, he made sure to pick up an extra set of clothes from a guest bedroom, not bothering to check whose they might have been or how old they were; his only focus was getting out of the Penthouse before the Enchantress brought it down. The thick Russian accent breezed past him as did the Necromancer it rolled off from, though Brayden didn’t mind the company—he suspected that the Kroman wanted to escape from the Penthouse just as much as he did. No matter what whacky situation Serik had gotten himself into, he was silently thankful that it was enough of a distraction to lead him away from the madness.

“We will take my car.. much faster.”

The Evoker nodded, thankful that he didn’t have to walk downtown. He didn’t live too far away from the penthouse, so he had walked there to begin with that morning. Brayden slid into the passenger seat of the slick BMW, hands cradled in his lap and his attention focused mostly on the passing environments on their way to pick up the Essentian; he wasn’t purposely trying to avoid conversation, but the activities of the day had left a heavy weight on him. What exactly was going on? Logan had mentioned that everyone showing up were arcane-noobs – they had power. But how? The powers had been passed down through bloodlines, and the families had been wiped out. How were new Arcanists being called? Pinching the top of his nose with his thumb and index finger, Brayden huffed as silently as he could. He would try not to let it bother him so much.

“I’m glad you’re alive.”

It might not have been the most appropriate thing to say to the Necromancer, but Brayden wasn’t going to hide the fact that he was glad. The two had shared a makeshift bromance back during the days spent at the Azoth Manor, with the Abrams being one of the few who would actually approach the undead dogs that Afton liked to raise. While the laid back Russian took to himself and his family most of the time, Brayden had taken the time to try getting to know him better. When the last remaining Necromancers had revealed themselves earlier, even amidst the hostile situation, he had been happy that they hadn’t perished so long ago – he hadn’t known that their revelation would be the start of a domino effect, though. The precedence set by those two had only alerted him to the survival of others he had thought dead.

When the two reached the detention center, the stumpy officer lead them back to a conference room. When she sat and motioned for them to follow, Brayden took a moment before he followed suit. Brown eyes peered past the two-way mirror, focusing on the lithe form handcuffed to the table just beyond his reach. Serik had taken another form; a new body to adapt to and new experiences just waiting to unfold. The small tug on his heart didn’t go unnoticed by the Abrams, and he even felt somewhat guilty for allowing the Necromancer to come, if only for him seeing Serik in the state he was in. Inwardly he wished that the Essentian would not be angry with him for allowing someone else to see him like this; he didn’t want to embarrass him.

“Then when ‘e was apprehended ‘e said, and I quote, ‘I will ‘ave you all for dinnah, polyester paladins.’ Suffice to say, they were not amused.”

The rough words rolling from her tongue had Brayden stifling unneeded laughter. Covering a small laugh with a cough, he cleared his throat and nodded in response. That certainly did sound like something Serik would have said – but why had he broken into an Urban Outfitters? Did his new body not come with clothes to begin with? It was then that Brayden noticed the antics of the other. Stood atop the table, Serik began pulling at the air vent, eventually falling off and yelping – the noise didn’t reach their ears. Officer Bates continued yammering on, expressing her concern for the captive, and explaining his escapades while in the center.

“He taught them the dance to .. what? .. And he tried to steal her wig?” That was very odd – considering Brayden hadn’t turned on a pop station in god knows how long, the song was lost to him. The art of thieving still seemed to be prevalent in his Essentian’s personality, though he shook his head as the voice promising to try and quit rang throughout his head from earlier. Rolling his shoulders back, Brayden pulled up one of his arms, revealing a small bag being held up by his hand. He placed the object on the table, which contained the set of clothes he had quickly grabbed on his way out. Hopefully, they fit the frame of the blond beyond the window. He had been about to answer the officer whenever he noticed an unusual scene playing out before him.

Serik still rested on the other side of the window, though his form was hanging from the ceiling, legs dangling as he struggled to reach the top. Two police guards had rushed into the room, though thanks to the thick walls still nothing was heard. They grabbed at Serik’s feet, one officer managing to grip his ankle and use his weight as a means to pull him down. As the chubby officer fell to the ground, so Serik fell from his vented sanctuary. Officer Bates went to turn her head, though Brayden quickly spoke so as to draw her attention away from the chaos.

“Why, Miss Bates, I’ll certainly do my best to take care of him. He usually doesn’t act up like this, but I do apologize for the craziness that he’s put you and your department through today. There’s no reason for such a lovely lady like yourself to be worrying about his mishaps.”

He smiled politely towards her, taking in the blush that was forming on her tired cheeks. She had been through a lot – that was evident. In a way, she had fought through her own battles, and while they certainly weren’t as mystical as his own, he admired her for enforcing the laws and putting herself in the dangerous situations the force had to. Police, while they made his heart beat faster when they were behind him on the road, were right up at the top of his list of respect, right there along with firefighters. He watched as Serik wrestled with the cops on the floor of the room, not sure how much more he could take.

“May I take him back home now? I’ll pay whatever the bail is. Thank you so much for taking care of him.”

And as she smiled and nodded towards Afton and him, he had to shrug off the feeling that things were only going to get crazier when he brought the Essentian back to the Penthouse with him. He had plenty of questions for him, though they could wait until they were back in the safety of the Enchantress’ home.

Seiko Ishitomo Fri Mar 26, 2010 8:02 pm

Rub-a-dub-dub
[there's a psycho in the tub]
-Fortunate Isles Penthouse-

For what may have been half an hour, perhaps a few minutes more, psycho cleansed each succulent curve of her body before letting her head rest beneath the near scalding spray. Feeling the thick, heavy steam fill her lungs brought a wash of serenity over her. Nothing beyond this tub even gained a mere thought as it was her time to simply enjoy the hot water pounding her scalp. delicate hands pressing upon the sweating marble wall clenched as the diminutive femme began to allow thoughts to invade upon her. The Horde.. Why the hell did the archanists have to reappear after so long a slumber? Each and every one of those douche bag sorcerers brought this great evil upon themselves and, according to Logan, it was their only duty to protect them.. Slender hands by now had curled into loose fists whose knuckles pressed against the marble. As was natural, her thoughts manifested into a dull rage in the pit of her stomach, allowing thoughts of her stay at the psych-ward to follow in the wake of the first. The torment she underwent in that hospital was nearly as nightmare-ish as her mental scope of the horde. With a feral cry she withdrew herself from beneath the spray.

Whipping her head up, she'd send doused hair in a wide vertical arch over her while her body tensed and right arm drew back. As if triggered by the clapping of heavy, wet hair upon her naked back, that poised fist dove forward into the solid wall, striking with pure intent. At first, the contact caused an ache to spread across her knuckles until the second and third impact of her fist brought pain followed by blood spotting on the unmarred marble. As if it were the blood she sought, she stopped at the sight of it and growled. flipping her hand around for inspection she'd lick the third knuckle to clear away the pooling blood, the resulting sting told her before her eyes this was where the majority of the damage was. Pulling the fist back she'd inspect the third knuckle and see that it was split open along an old scar. Flinging her hand to the side, she'd send a volley of red droplets across the tub which the water, just before being shut off, washed away.

Using the other hand, psycho swept the shower curtain aside and collected a towel to wrap about herself muttering as she did so.. So fuckin' much for tranquilly.
Snatching her things from the rim of the tub as the hem of the towel found itself stuffed in the asian's cleavage. Nearly throwing the razor, shaving gel and various other items into her bag as she exited the balmy bath room she'd recall the pain in her hand and look to it, realizing the bleeding hadn't stopped and had her third knuckle and it's belonging digit covered in blood. Back in the bathroom and to the mirror she went. It would be a long shot but there had to be a bandage of some sort lounging about. Flipping the mirror from the wall she'd rummage through the various things. Band-Aids.. She'd discover after pulling the box from it's shelf that the self adhering bandages were too small for her and were tossed absently to the side. It was beneath the sink that she located a roll of gauze, anesthetist ointment, and surgical tape in a convenient little box marked 'First-aid kit.' Quick work was made of wrapping the hand and tapping it off, either forgetting or abandoning the idea of the ointment. Taking her time to study herself in the de-fogging mirror she'd smile, quite pleased with her reflection, save the mess of sodden hair, which now gained a brush running through it to tame it's rebellious ways.

Returning from the bathroom she rummaged a bit more, this time through her own things before settling on an outfit that she could tollorate. Dropping the towel, she would half dress herself before flopping onto the bed, her blue jeans and black sport bra having made their way onto the beauty before she did so. With one bare foot upon the edge of the bed, supporting a bent and upright knee and the other leisurely dangling, she knew if she was needed, Someone would scream for her.

Alex Sorschal Fri Mar 26, 2010 8:03 pm

Fortunate Isles, Penthouse Entrance

Alex was late. This was nothing new in Alex's life--he had rarely, if ever, been on time for anything, but if ever there was an excuse, the complete incredulity of the situation warranted it. One night of 'Drunken Munchkin' (a card-based drinking game he swore he would never partake in again), a massive, agonizing headache, and a series of progressively bizarre events later, and Alex found himself suspecting his friends of a prank of such elaborate schemes that it defied their usual actual initative to do anything. What the hell was the letter even talking about? Maybe another one of Mike's Avant Garde roleplay starts--some module he had constructed, or god help him, some way to rope them into the live action circuit. It was a pretty good job though. The letter looked so... authentic. And the thing that came with it. He couldn't have made that, right?

By the end of his trip, he could not begin to fathom why he had chosen to see where this whole thing led, he just did. He wasn't used to feeling compelled to do anything, and he had to admit that it was fairly novel. The young office jockey threw on some of his better clothes--a striped black and white shirt, his riding jacket and matching denim jeans--ran a comb through his hair as much as was strictly necessary, and stepped out. In short order, he was at the door of the penthouse, and he could not help but wonder--for the probably the 30th time, if he had simply lost his mind somewhere between the next few nights. too late to back out now he thought.

With a level sigh, he pushed open the doorway and slipped through on the other side, putting on his best, charming smile on the off chance that whatever was on the other side was friendly, female, and not immune to his particular set of charms.) "Hello? Uh... is the right place to meet? I got a note." which he brandished betwen two fingertips with a bit of a flourish before moving to cross the threshhold entirely. He tried to dismiss the sense of foreboding that came with it, but like so many of the events that transpired, he found it a hard thing to ignore...

Serik Fri Mar 26, 2010 8:03 pm

YOU WON'T TAKE ME ALIVE COPPERS!;
DETENTION CENTER, LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT. >>

Two clerks had entered the conference room around the end of the conversation. Officer Bates nodded giving them the signal that Serik’s two guardians should follow them to process the bail and wait for their friend on the other side. She took the duffle bag with clothes and headed for the door leading into the back hallway. At this point Serik was restrained and calm. From the window Brayden and Afton could see the Essentian receive the new clothing and when he took the bag the fight washed off his face. It was so symbolic of where things had gone that Brayden was saving him. He couldn’t fend for himself, not anymore. For a dragon, one of the Arcane worlds most glorious creatures, being so weak and knocked down was a hard pill to swallow. When Serik had been called several years ago to take up the mantle of Essentian he’d given up ever seeing his family again. Not only was he physically unable to ever return home, but also his initial absence set in motion a long time feared draconic war. Officer Bates guided Serik off to a bathroom where he could change. She mentioned that his friends were taking care of all the paper work and he’d be home before he knew it. Her comforting words fell on deaf ears, and instead he was annoyed at her ignorance regarding his depowering.

Serik was surprised when he was able to shut and lock the bathroom door; so far the police had been wary of just about every action he took. The fact that he was left alone for even a minute was astonishing. Opening the bag he found a plain white tee and a hoodie folded on top of some jeans and a pair of shoes. Brayden had forgotten socks and underwear. However having anything decent to change into at this point was a welcome change. Like a bat out of hell he pulled off the black shirt and tossed it onto the sink, looking down once to glare at the cartoon detective graphic that once adorned his slender torso. Surely, if being naked was a mortal’s crime, than wearing something so hideous should be just as arguable. When fully dressed Serik turned on the faucet and ran the water, adjusting the temperature to a lukewarm. He cupped some water up into his face and fought the liquids ability to slip through his fingers. It wasn’t as refreshing as he expected and his emotions overwhelmed him still. Without a gradual build he switched into a barbaric state and flung anything not bolted down about the small space. He steered his furry into the mirror expecting a larger dramatic response, but of course it just ended in an epic fail. The mirror was made of an alloy that specialized in impact resistance. Of course if you have insane people coming in and out all night and day it stood to reason that he wasn’t the first person to have a fit in there.

Looking down at the black tee shirt he didn’t have to contemplate what course of action to take next. He tossed the article of clothing into the toilet and zealously began flushing. The cotton soaked up quickly as the water spun around from the inner rim of the bowl. Except the shirt didn’t seem to disappear. Instead it just rested at the bottom of the bowl and the water kept going. Apparently, there was no winning tonight. Exiting the detention area he made his way to Brayden and Afton’s side quietly. He didn’t know what to say or how to act; so far everything he’d done had gotten him in trouble. If zipping his lips meant he could go with Brayden and away from the handheld lightning devices, than he’d swallow his pride. For the time being of course.

Taylor Sullivan Fri Mar 26, 2010 8:03 pm

FORTUNATE ISLES PENTHOUSE; LIVING ROOM

Where were those damn supplies at? She could’ve sworn that she knew exactly where they were because she’d needed them once or twice. Refusing to let the pain she felt all over her body particularly in her abdomen and shoulders, she could visualize what exactly she needed but it irked her she had no idea where they were. Knowing the crowd was close, she debated whether or not to go in and interrupt them considering her patience was wearing thin on her. Not a moment too soon, that patience would be tested again as the warning of more people would be entering the penthouse any second. Door opened and she saw Dominic and a pretty pissed off young woman. Did he actually kidnap someone to bring here? God damn, it wasn’t that important! His comment about the dogs only made her narrow her eyes in response. “Really Dom, kidnapping? Is that what Logan has been teaching you?” Strike one. She could feel her patience literally leaving her body with each passing moment. Poor girl, even Taylor felt bad with Dom doing what he did – no doubt a habit he picked up from the oldest Eldritch Hunter. Dom continued to push his luck with the injured Huntress as he commented on wiping off her shoes. Strike two. Closing the distance between the two, hazel eyes watched intently as the buff noob-eldritch hunter (at least compared to Taylor) giving her permission to continue with what she was doing. When he accentuated it with a pat on the back?! Strike three! Brian’s assumptions were correct and her reaction proved to be out of pure instinct. Pain surged throughout her body and exited out her clenched fist connecting with Dominic’s jaw. She may be hurt, she may be soaking wet, AND be smaller in stature - but if you hit her in a spot where she’s already in pain? Heads up. The huntress reacts out of instinct and Dom happened to be at the end of that. Oops? Maybe he would think twice about patting the huntress on the back after looking like she rolled around with dogs considering she packed a mean bite.

Of course, after hitting him out of reflex, the pain that had once been isolated to her back and shoulders had now spread to all over her body. Clenching her jaw and trying to she looked back in Alisa’s direction, “He likes to pretend he’s on a special mission when he uses the term assignment. As far as I know, you won’t be involved in anything life-threatening tonight.” Keyword: Tonight. Hey, she couldn’t promise what the rest of the week would show, but as for right now she could pretty much assume that the new and scared arcane noobs would not be going into battle tonight. As for the Eldritch Hunters, she couldn’t make such promises. Hazel eyes fell to the newcomer who Dominic rudely brought against her will. “Next time – kick him in the balls or something? It’ll drop any guy.” Words of wisdom and mostly said due to the fact that her annoyance was getting the better of her. However, she knew that deep down this was bigger than everyone and also that Taylor looked like a crazy lady for such a reaction. Regrettably, whether she liked it or not, this whole new arcanist thing was happening now and she had to grind it out and do what needed to be done. Personally, she’d rather not go back and have to deal with any events related to those that happened in Seattle and Florida. She still had a handful of people who were part of the original bloodlines, but she had lost a lot in the process and refused to relive that. Looking back to Dom who hopefully still had his pride intact, she apologized, “You really need to think before you do things,” in her own sort of way. “Make yourself useful and go get some towels and first aid supplies?” Request, order, demand – he could take it however he wanted. Taylor could tell that the once clotted blood was replaced with a fresh supply due to her quick, jerky movement. Damn it, this could’ve all been avoided if Dom only had a brain.

(Taylor continues to here.)

Eve Cassidy Fri Mar 26, 2010 8:04 pm

”Gah!”

Eve quickly turned around in her seat and noticed an Asian woman who had tattoos on her body. At the moment she seemed a little irritated but Eve couldn’t blame her. She probably would be too if a whole bunch of clueless people entered a room and started asking the same questions again and again. She silently told herself that she would listen first to what everyone had to say and ask questions later. The Asian woman however then left to take a shower. Eve, however, was once again lost in her thoughts. She just wanted to make sense of everything and just thinking it through was her best method right now.

Everything just seemed so unreal to her. Looking around the room she knew that this just had to be one of her crazy dreams. A half dead dog could not still be alive and Lorelei could not do magic. She was just dreaming it all up, but everything seemed much realer then her dreams. There was no way she was an arcane which, after much thought, she had decided were people who could perform magic of some sort. Eve had never preformed magic of any kind and nor had she shown signs of it before. How could she be an arcane if she never shown signs of performing magic? She was certain that the note she had crumpled in her hand must have belong to someone else if this was all real. Eve was just some girl from Pennsylvania who was working to get her teaching degree but yet she had received the note and she was still here. Eve didn’t know what kept her from just leaving the room.

” Hello? Uh... is the right place to meet? I got a note."

Eve was ripped from her thoughts as she looked up and noticed another new comer. Looking around the rest of the room she also saw that many had just left. Eve was wondering where they had gone and cursed herself for not paying more attention. She just felt so lost and wanted answers now but she knew she would have to be patient to get what she wanted. Eve looked up at the man and answered his question.

“Yes this is the right place” She held up her own crumpled note to show that she receive one just like his. “Come and join the party.” She added giving him a weak smile. Eve just wanted the day to be over and her life to be back to normal.

Alex Sorschal Fri Mar 26, 2010 8:04 pm

'Come and Join the Party'
Fortunate Isles Penthouse

"Come and join the party."

Alex's smile widened a fraction before slipping through the doorway entirely, shutting the heavy door accompanied by yet another sensation that the very act had a signfigance greater than he was aware of. He really hoped this wasn't going to be a habit. Desperately wishing the letter had been a little less vague, Alex meandered across the room in Eve's general direction, letting his eyes wander in an attempt to take in his new surroundings. Mentally, he put the possability of Mike's avant garde attempt at putting together some sort of new session. Mike was not at his most skilled when dealing with even remotely attractive women of any kind, and he would have horribly mangled any attempts to court a game out of one into something that would have earned at best, a slap, and at worst, a horrible beating by the woman-in-questions' boyfriend--or girlfriend, depending on how badly Mike had misjudged the situation.

"Hi," Alex said, the word sounding sheepish and more than a little confused. A hand slipped out of his pocket to follow the gesture with a wave, unnecessairly, and the smile was all charm and a hint of teeth. "So... you got the creepy note too, huh? " That was odd. Either his buddy had found some newfound courage between last night and today or it was a prank. At least the phrasing meant he hadn't missed... whatever it was he was supposed to be doing here, he hadn't missed it. If there was something to be missed. Man, what was he even doing here? Frustration mounted in the corner of his mind, and threatened to ruin his attempt to be even remotely charming.

He shook his head irritably and immediately regretted it, a spike of pain playing along his temples, aftershocks of the skull-splitting headache before. He grimaced, visibly, and withdrew a bottle from his rider's jacket, popping out a pair of pills and tossing them into the back of his throat. He'd been doing it, more or less, for the entire day since he woke up. The act left him more than a little embarrassed--ultimately he chose pain relief over looking like some kind of drug addict in front of the new girl, but as far hungovers went, this was a strange and terrifying experience.

"Actually, I gotta be honest with you. I really, really kind of hope this isn't one of those kind of parties, because, I guess I had a little too much fun last night. Monster of a headache, all day." smooth, Alex. He rubbed his eyes again for good measure, picking up the sounds of others in rooms ahead. Not alone, it seemed. "Maybe this is an intervention. Didn't think I drank all that much last night." Shut up about last night! Was he borrowing from his friends' damn playbook, he was sounding like a burnout already!

Rallying himself, he turned a quarter towards her and offered a hand. "I'm Alex, by the way. Nice to meet you." At least the girl looked as confused and hopelessly lost as he was. Maybe the night wouldn't end up so bad. Could be worse...

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