Fantasy The Blacklist - A Fantasy/Punk Post-Apocalypse

[Euclid Leaf]

Chapter 00 - The Rewinding Message
It was soft. Like a cloud that was stuffed into a pillow. Or a bundle of petals woven into a winter blanket. So soft, it swallowed everything. And they would go on and on. Sinking into this black abyss. But despite not knowing where they would go, it was a happy feeling. As if all the weight was brushed off their shoulders. Like a caterpillar shedding its chrysalis upon completing its wondrous metamorphosis. For a while they would drift in this place of no places. Flying back and forth. Sideways and looping all around. They would know without knowing, that this journey was meant to be. And soon they will float towards distant light, the guiding star in the nothingness.

Of all the adjectives to describe it, they were just that. Simple memories.

"He-"

Huh? What is that?

"-llo! ...Ou ... Eara..."

For a moment, I thought I heard something...

...

"Hello...?"
"Does anyone hear me? How long has it been...?"
"Of course they don't. And they never will."
"How could they...? Our voices exist in the blank divide. Between life and death. Beyond reason. Even I don't understand who it is I am anymore."
"Still, we must try!"
"Shh. Stop it already. I'm trying to sleep. I'm tired."
"No, I... I can't... I can't leave them...!"

Wait, is that a voice...? Sorry, I can't understand you...

"See! It heard me! -- Hello! Little one over there! I must speak to you!"
"You're just imagining things again. You always do. Just stop already."
"No! This is no imagination. I must warn them! I must! They are us... somewhere... they need us."
"Maybe once. But no longer. We will soon be obsolete."
"And haven't we done enough as it is? I look forward to being forgotten. I'm tired. Very tired."
"We are right. It is too late. No one is here to hear us. We will fade away... all of us."
"What a shame. They already know. But they don't care... What a shame."
"Yes, dark thoughts bloom in dark places. And Humanity is a dark seed indeed."
"No. I won't give up. Please, you must help me!"
"..."
"Anyone...? Please...!"

I must be dreaming...

"No... no you are not... Listen to me! Wake up! Snap out of it!"

Sorry... I can't listen to you anymore. I have to go. There is a place I must be.

"Why... why does no one listen...? How does that make it... Oh..."
"Don't cry. There is nothing we can do. Nothing."
"I told you. They will never understand."
"Of course they wouldn't... How can anyone deny such a sweet-tasting lie? Even we couldn't have. Did not."
"Be quiet all of you. How long will you continue to talk? I'm tired. So very tired."
"..."

And just like memories, they are only glimpses of what it felt like. Only glimpses.

.~.~.~.

It was as quiet, washed day.

A layer looming clouds and water was brushed over the lower city, passing through the towering skyscrapers like the teeth of a comb through hair. Only the faint pattering of rain can be heard drumming on the rooftop of the small shop far below, the murmurs of the population rushing around outside hushed by the closed wooden doors. Because of the constant downpour, a stream of people were crossing the streets, pushing to avoid being shoved into the pools of gathering water while trying to find refuge themselves.

Since it was well into the afternoon already and schools were beginning to being released, things were beginning to pick up. Amongst the chaos, a group of High-Schoolers can be seen running with umbrellas in hand, smiling obliviously as they splashed each other, chasing one another in the open rain. The very embodiment of naive youth. Suddenly, the students broke off from the asphalt path that wove into the city and up the nearby gloomy hill. As they hide beneath the outstretched roof of the storefronts, giggling at each other's soaking misfortune, stopping by a machine to buy drinks to heat themselves up. As the mixed group stayed there talking about their days and betting on how sick they'll get, one of them would wander off and stop by the store. It was a thin, black haired girl with two large braids. Compared to the neon-lit city around them, the simple tile-roofed building stood out as ancient and exotic. In a way, it was supposed to stand out while not standing out, hidden in this secluded path.

For a moment, she wanted to enter. Her hand reaching out, but reclined immediately when she heard a voice familiar to her.

"Sam!" called her friend, a young tanned male. He was drenched down to his summer jacket, but bearing a dopey, carefree grin as he approached. "What are you doing?" he said, squinting now while assessing the hand-painted store sign, "Huh. 'Mariette's Exotic Boutique'. Trinkets, Knick-Knacks, Charms, and... Fortune-Telling? Why would you care about this? Don't tell me you've finally got your eyes on someone?"

Her cheeks flushed. "N-no! I... I was just curious... that's all..." As she tried to voice her thoughts, her fingers idly flicked at her braids. "It's just... My grandmother has been having these weird dreams and I want to... I dunno... help in some way..."

"Jeez. You're hopeless." he sighed, "You're so desperate you'd fall into superstitions? You know mages are a bunch of selfish pricks. They don't think we're equals. To them, we're like pigs and cows. Heck, I bet this place is full of overpriced shams."

Sam looked down, her shoulders slumping. "Yeah, you're probably right..."

Seeing the normally cheery girl act this way, he let out another sigh. He scanned the sign again. "Look. Here it say prices for fortune readings is 'flexible depending on reagents and potency, check other sign'... I don't know what that means. But if it's cheap enough, I'll chip in."

Her eyes lifted up. Hopeful again. "Wait... Really?"

"See it as thanks for your grandma always making us all those muffins." He smiled, moved up to wipe the stained glass, practically shoving his face onto the window as he looked for this supposed 'other sign'. After a moment of looking, he immediately began to regret his endeavor. Not only was there no sign of this 'sign', there was so much in the way, not to mention how dim everything inside looked. Were they still using candles as a light source? In this day and ages? Then, in all of his frantic looking, his eyes noticed something in the dimly lit space.

Between a crack, a little figure was playing all the way in the backroom. She was wearing a uniform.

Wait. Was that a school girl in there?

Suddenly a voice called out from above.

"Careful. Breaking glass is bad luck."

Feeling a deep chill run through him, he jumped in shock. -Crack!
With a regretful, stuttering jerk, the teen bashed his head into the window. Leaving a nasty schism right down the middle of the stained glass.

"Ow..." he said, sat there in a daze.

"My, what have we here? A few guests to my humble shop?" giggled a young woman hidden halfway in shadow. She smiled at them from the open doorway to the store, peeping out from within. The faint smell of something oddly crispy and tangy seeped out. As expect from someone who ran such an odd store, she was wearing an eccentric garb consisting of a gnarled pointed hat and what was obviously some sort of Gothic Lolita inspired red, orange, and black frilled dress.

Her orange eyes shimmered with the clear sign of magic, popping out in the hazy atmosphere of the downpour.

Sam was trying to hold back her tears, stammering as tried to apologize. "S-sorry about your window! I-- I mean, he didn't mean it! C'mon, Chen! Tell her you're sorry!"

"What? Why are we apologizing for? What about my head? I nearly busted it on that sodding window because she damn right spooked me!"

Sam stomped her foot. "Chen!"

"I only tried to warn you... it isn't my fault you are clumsy."

He was steaming now. He opened his mouth, ready to yell more, but turned to the side and scowled as a series of giggles can be heard from behind. To be honest, it didn't hurt that much after the initial sting. What was left sore was his own pride. The loud thump and outcry had drawn the attention of the rest of the group. The pair of girls were whispering something and the trio of guys were striking poses from afar, clowning him.

With a red face, he got up and faced the oddly-smiling fortune-teller, "Ahem. Anyway, let's not make a big deal out of this... how much are the damages? I'll pay it off somehow..."

"Somehow? You don't sound too sure. Are you sure you have that kind of money? This is imported stained glass from Rien:Fortress, all the way in the outskirts."

Chen gulped.

Imported things were ridiculously pricey. Luxuries, they are considered. There was no way a high-schooler like him was going to pay off something so expensive, even if he were to find a part-time job and work the whole summer. His eyes glanced to the side, the thought of simply running crossing his mind. But remembering Sam, he knew she wouldn't be able to live with the guilt if they were to leave the shopkeep with such a hefty loss.

Chen squirmed underneath her piercing gaze, awaiting his fate as the pointy-hatted lady pondered to herself with her perpetual smile. "Hm. Well, I do need a helping hand around the shop these days... How about it? And you too."

Sam looked up in surprised when she was brought into the conversation.

"I saw you looking at the sign very intensely. Are you interested in a reading? I'll do it for free if you help out."

Sam's eyes lit up, and she looked to Chen with a beaming smile. He sighed, having already resigned his summer vacation away already. He shrugged.

"C-can I have it in advance? I promise I'll work it off!"

The woman's smile widened even further, her orange eyes shimmering excitedly. "Of course. I have a feeling you have quite the interesting problem at hand..."

...

After the fortune-reading and seeing the pair of teens off, telling them to return early tomorrow, Mariette stood at the front of her crowded shop with a quaint grin. She stared out at the two fading figures outside while musing to herself. This was what, the fifth case these past two week alone regarding the same 'incident'. It was no coincidence. Even when she thought they got rid of the darn thing the last time too. What a pest. It was even beginning to draw the attention of the lofty Maegus, who no doubt finds it repugnant to step down and bump elbows with the lowly masses. This made going out herself dangerous, for all parties involved. With a click of her tongue, the witch spun around and started back into the dim, candle-lit room.

The store was wildly cramped around her. Though in a strange, purposeful kind of way. As if the maze-like layout itself designated some sort of deeper significance. There was barely enough room to walk without nearly bumping into things, but around every tall shelf or stand was something new and peculiar to see. All around her were strange items shelved, left hanging, or placed out in open display, the centerpiece of it all being a large round table decorated and enchanted for fortune-telling. At a glance, it all might look like common junk. But to the trained eye, half of the objects there had some sort of special value. The other half, maybe not so much. But this sense of mystery and discovery delighted the witch. From magic-conduits in the shape of wands, scepters, and staves that tingled the very air around them, hanging shrunken heads and spell-material plucked from rare beasts, to simple straw dolls and glass globes that sat perfectly in line, their purpose to be nothing more than eye-pleasing ornaments, the store was the very definition of an exotic and niche. Even for mage standards, the highly superstitious bunch they were.

She passed back one of the many tombs shelved, pressing her finger down on one, causing it to pop out and into her her. Rapidly it opened up and flicked to an half-filled page, a pen now floating down from a nearby desk and rapidly scribbling out letters onto the fine parchment. It was a large list of sorts, with many crossed out and others with weird markings next to them. And now, a new selection was being detailed.

"My, my, looks like we have quite the work cut out for us today. I've already sent out the call. Echo should be able to do the rest. The agents will be thrilled. Don't you think, Ping?"

A little blue-ish girl sat atop a towering chair in the back of what appeared to be a make-shift kitchen, flipping through a small scrapbook. Her pale cerulean eyes flashed idly until her spoken name registered in her mind. With a faint murmur, she looked up, brushing the dangling loop of hair to the side. There was a melancholy to her petite face, her soft lips pulled in a slight frown.

"Maru... I sense things out there. Very big things."

Mariette patted the girl's head, setting aside the book as it continued to write itself. "Don't fret. I'm sure one of the veterans will come with you today. They won't miss a big hunt like this. You'll be safe in their hands."

"I'm more scared for them..."

The Witch let out a laugh, to help bolster the little girl's confidence. "My! Don't you know who I am?" as she said this, the store began to shift and move.

Countless items floated in the air, lifted one by one with an invisible force. From spoons, to forks, and knives, huge bowls, battered pots, and flat pans, they danced around as Mariette flicked her hands. The witch bobbed left and right, raising her hands and lowering them with the bravado and tempo of commanding a grand orchestra, smile strengthening as she watched the little girl giggle happily. Ping's bright self quickly returned once more as she was flung into the playful chaos. Ping clung to the neck of the chair as it hovered back and forth between the items, marching rows of knick-knacks now joining the fray from the storefront. Globes and toys and statuettes bounced and swirled among the utensils to a whirling rhythm as the girl was greeted by a small animated straw doll standing on a salt shaker.

It bowed to her and she curtsied back, lifting her long dress and crossing her knees.

Jumping into her hands, Ping was returned back to her corner in the backroom. Along with the rest of the items to their respective places, returning to drawers and shelves and stands. She was holding the now lifeless doll still laughing, waving it around as though it still floated. The Witch leaned down and gave the little girl a warm hug.

"No one will die. Not in my territory. Understand?"

With that, she went back to attending to the scribbling book back on the front counter. While Ping was busy play with her new 'friend', for the first time Mariette's smile waned as she looked down at the contents in the pages. Indeed, it was much easier said than done.

...

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

Laslo "Atlas" Thorne
After a peculiarly chaotic chain of events it eventually came to be that what finally got Atlas to move was a precise raindrop hitting his left caruncula. He arose, tiredly wiping the excess water out of his eye. It was a gentle precursor in comparison to the downpour that succeeded it, and soon Atlas found himself scrambling to gather his things. He'd been sat against a waist-high cement wall at the top of a suburban apartment tower, roughly 800 feet up in the air. Across from him a limp corpse laid, halfway pounded into the cement. It'd been a rough week. His pseudo-sibling Laura was off on some mission that he had had to turn down, and though he wouldn't admit it he was worried. The landlord and friend who'd allowed him to use his loft for a place to stay was killed in a mugging gone wrong. Just another example of how you can't protect everyone, no matter how powerful you are. To work out the frustration and anger he endeavoured to track the mugger down and make him pay, but finding out that the mugger was caring for a young child swayed him from doing anything. So who laid across from him on that rooftop?

Well, that would be former Maegus associate Frank Keller. Quit the job after a particularly bloody raid on some form of illegal security company. Said the work was distasteful and complained that he wasn't willing to lay his life on the line. Perhaps he thought that the Maegus hunter's job was above danger, but if that had been the case then there would be far fewer open spots in the academy. Unfortunately, by pure chance he came across Atlas in the subway and they both recognized one another. Who would've thought that leaving early from work would literally kill him?

Water sizzled into vapor as it hit Atlas' skin. If it hadn't been for his skillset then he would already have been soaked. The infamous "Storm" was tucked away inside his backpack whilst he leaned his long staff over his shoulder. Aside from his regular clothing he held a large black cloak in his left hand. Since he'd been blacklisted he had to wear it as well as small ear piece at all times. People needed to be able to get a hold of him, and he also didn't want every officer in the city to start firing shots at him as soon as he went for a walk. Before leaving the roof he spat at the corpse, blissfully careless about leaving DNA traces anymore. There were already pictures of him, warnings about men with staves travelling the streets at night. Those who wanted him dead were well aware of who he was, an unfortunate consequence of the carelessness he exhibited when he was younger.

So he threw on his cloak and and jumped from the corner of the building. This place was probably going to be invaded by prying eyes now, he'd been too obvious about it. From his left hand a bright white chain erupted and arced through the air before connecting with the next tower over, and like a magical Tarzan he swung forth with practiced effortlessness. Only two consecutive swings away he did a backflip and landed bionic-hand-first onto a still monorail train by its station. A series of people in the crowd below looked up at him, to which he could only give a passing grin before the train shot into the distance.

------------------

The wind tore at him violently, but the vice-like grip of his right hand dug into the metal plating and kept him steady. Water whipped his coat aggressively, and a continuous cloud of steam rose from him. Despite the intensity on the monorail, the outside world failed to invade his mind. Lately there'd been an influx of crackdowns on small-time crooks, almost as if Sanction had upped their staff by 500%. It was making life difficult. Unless Atlas were to be able to gain assistance from the blacklist community, then he might have to return into Babylon and lay low for a while. Regardless of his power, there was no way he could take on the entire city.

Suddenly his ear piece sparked to life. Echo's familiar voice talked instructions, but the wind drowned him out. "Shi- wait!" Atlas shouted, despite the ear piece's lack of a microphone. A chain attached itself to a nearby building, and Atlas slid off the monorail at the same time as it fully stretched. The momentum bent his trajectory around the corner of the building and then upwards, so sharply that when he finally let go he found himself rising far above the rooftops. There he seemed to rest in the air for a moment before gravity resumed its hold and sent him tumbling towards the ground once more.

But he had heard enough.

------------------

"Ow, that fucking hurt. Maybe if you weren't such a big dumbass, then maybe we wouldn't have this issue. Fuck, fuck, fuck." So went Atlas' internal monologue as he arrived at the edge of a street packed with stores. His legs were sore from taking the landing nearly head-on instead of using the momentum to swing, though thankfully, he'd finally arrived. At the end of the street he could see the tile-roof storefront that belonged to the witch of the blacklist, Codename: Fortune-Teller. He hadn't had much in the way of interactions with her, and he wasn't entirely convinced he wanted to. Something about those who willingly involves themselves with the occult to the sort of superstitious level she gave off last time around made him uncomfortable.

Alas, this mission was the one Laura had joined. That they needed additional firepower now was not a good sign, and he'd rather be here making some progress and having the opportunity to defend her. Better safe than sorry. The situation wasn't improved by the new addition of a crack in the storefront's glass either. He stopped momentarily and looked down at it, before shrugging and pushing the door open with his shoulder. A bell chimed above his head when he did, and just wandering into the thick of it he called out: "Anyone home?"

The room was filled to the brim with strange paraphernalia. Effigies, tomes, shrunken heads... It felt like it was out of a movie, but then again most of Laslo's life could be described as one. He scanned the room for any people, and that's when he spotted her. "My, if it isn't the princess." Laura was standing just by another blacklist agent, Codename: "Ping", in her military coat. She seemed tired, despite it being in the middle of the day and all. Perhaps she had had troubles sleeping. Atlas walked towards the two, his staff producing a gentle thud with every other step, and crouched down next to her. "Kid, do you sleep in your clothes? You look like you've been asleep all day! You have to take care of yourself." For a second he kept a straight, serious face, but then his tight lips broke out in a smile. He raised his left hand, inviting her to a hug. "How have you been?"

Euclid Leaf Idea​

 

[Idea]

Princess Shakesperana
AKA Laura Ojohime

​

• Laura's POV

• 
  Just the same, lifeless routine. A wooden classroom, for the most part, as our books were paper still and the chalk board still made that same irritating noise as the teacher scribbled on it. The way the strings coming from the ceiling dragged along his makeshift hand reminded me of dragging furniture along a semi-polished floor, squeaking powerless and resisting only by the aid of the outside force known as gravity. Did that force even matter anymore, I wondered. The thin strings that held up the human-sized dolls occcupying the rest of the classroom seats, with the same familiar horrified expressions , certainly didn't seem to think so. The strings would just keep going right across through the ceiling, who knows by what system or manner of magic, dragging along my classmate puppets for each daily activity. The only strange thing about it was how many times we sat on this classroom pretending to hear the teacher instruct us. How silly, right?
  
  Today something was off though. I wondered if I was sick. I wondered if I even COULD get sick. There was a strange pressure behind my eyes. I tryed rubbing it off, facing away from the teacher and towards my classmates yet to my surprise my face met their immutable gazes. How odd, today was. What strange yet familiar pressure. This usually only happened when they came to scorn me in the afternoon...
  
  With that thought, my own marble-like eye slid of it's socket.
  
  .......................................................................................................................................................................................................
  
  I woke up to the noise of a message being transmited to every blacklist member, from the owner of the house where I was staying. By the message itself, it seemed something big was coming, or perhaps, already here. I yawned and stretched, as I climbed out of the bed one foot at a time. I wasn't a big fan of the pink frilly sheets from the bed I had been given (why would anyone have such a thing anyway?), but given the fortune teller didn't seem to budge on the matter of me being able to just take a regular-sized bed I wasn't left much of a choice. At that point in the night, I was so tired I even accepted the invitation to stay over for the night. TWICE.
  
  Just a couple days ago, I was requested for a task from another blacklist member. It seemed they wanted me to look into some object for them, since they heard I was good at analizing things. I couldn't but come at once accompanied only by the huge grin on my face, slamming the door open but stopping it just in time with my magic so that it wouldn't hit the child that seemingly was standing right behind it. They seemed frightened, about to cry, so I quickly bent down and attempted to calm them down with confident words and the offering of a straw doll stored in a marble which I manifested with my spell. Only after this did the Fortune Teller appear, greeting me and seeming to ignore the situation beyond giving the child (whom I guessed was even younger than myself) some reassuring words. I inspected a couple items, and albeit I had barely done anything yet, I was cordially invited to lunch, which I quickly accepted. It was a chance to perhaps improve my own standing within the blacklists, and if I did that, I should be able to take on even more nightmares than those currently being assigned to me. This child, whose named I learned was Ping, had seemingly taken an interest in me, and I ended up finding myself swamped with analysis work. Between Ping interrupting, breaks for meals and the human need for sleep, I had spend two days already analysing the unexpectadly immense pile of magical rubbish.
  
  "Maybe I shouldn't have blurted that joke about her being too old to have a child." I sighed while I picked up the hat that dropped to the ground in my sleep. It was as if she was giving me extra work on purpose. I was kind of suspicious, really, but seeing this message now, perhaps I made a mistake in my preemptive judgement. Did she, perhaps, just maybe, expect this? Was she trying to keep me here knowing there would be a need for my skills? A fortune teller, indeed, if that was the case. A brilliant display of why she was so well-ranked within our organization. I chuckled, thinking how I had been chosen to come of all people.
  
  Admitedly I had been a little terrified in my first time sleeping there. Nothing worth needing to be potty trained again, but still one should not underestimate the experience of a woman often referred to as a witch smiling as she invites you to jump into her oven, and after being pushed into it appearing in what seems to the favorite room of a torturer with a weird fascination for pottery. The room barely held lighting with the power of candles alone, save for a lonely lamp in the ceiling that seemed to have died off. The place itself was a mess with tools and weapons of all kinds, most of which looking like iron. In the corners there were piles of crates, one of which had flann and partially broken, spilling it's contents over the floor. Fortunately, those contents seemed way more resilient than the creepy-looking (and fragile) vases on the shelves some of which so high I wondered if even an adult could reach them without magic or dragging a ladder into the witch's oven. While the doors to which this room lead were much more accomodating, by virtue of being pratically empty walls of dark blue stone except for the basic needs for one's sleep, it was hard to completely shove away the feeling that at any moment the air would heat to 200 degrees or someone would come to take me away into a torture chamber.
  
  Even that wasn't quiet as terrifying as the dream I just had though. What was all that about, anyway? Puppets were creepy enough as they were, getting turned into one while being surrounded by a bunch of gigantic ones? Ewww! The one form of theater I despised, and it had to come hunting me in my dreams. Well, at least I'd be sure to get some pay back with the nightmares in the real world.
  
  I still managed to hear the words about the veterans coming and the promise that no one would die within the witch's territory. Given the sounds of moving plates and utensils I half expected the room to look like it had just been spared a vist by a tornado, but instead as I opened the door I found a pristine shop, almost unnaturally clean given the amount of junk all over it. The woman was busy scribbling something while the girl was entertained playing with the doll I manifested earlier. Not that the original owner should have many complaints about it, since it was in good hands now. So, all that remained for me was to start my day.
  
  "Oh, greetings and salutations! I see the skies are cloudy today. Perhaps hiding the secrets the night left behind? How fair you all, on this yet calm morning?" My arms gestured all over placed, careful only not to accidentally hit anything. Who knew what in here was useless and what was priceless. I decided to approach Ping first since the conversation might take longer with Fortune teller. "I see you appear to be having fun. I hope the present was satisfatory?"
  
  Just as I began to strike that conversation, however, a familiar face presented itself, none other than my "dear" Atlas. he had that smug, confident look to him and his irritating smile, and then he dared offer me a hug. I didn't immediately do it, obviously, I had to first look to both sides, before sparing just one second to quickly hug the man and retreat, turning away to face a wall with embarassment, trying to just occasionally slide my hands through my hair hoping people wouldn't notice me trying to blindly arrange my hair.
  
  "I see you're doing fine yourself, Atlas. Been journeying a lot? Surely you would know that every soul ought to be prepared for engaging the enemy at any time, it would be foolish of me to change garments with the same frequency with which I sleep. Besides, there was little time, I had labors to complete. Many tasks of... well... hum..." While I worded it in such a grandiose manner, now the follow up that I was simply spamming my Code Break spell into random object I was requested to analize all night would be really disappointing. I took a moment to come up with a way of saying it that was more appropriate for the current style of the scene I set up. Oh! I turned and faced the man again, chest inflated with pride. "Yes, I was uncovering the secrets of various artifacts. How could I delay in such important tasks? How selfish of me that would be!"
  
  I gave it a moment, then asked a question of my own:
  
  "Anyway, I trust you're here for that request that just came as well?"
  
  Mentions: Euclid Leaf Prizzy Kriyze
  
  

 

[Kloudy]

Janus
"God of Doorways"

Oh, another mission...

Janus retrieved his sword from the still torso of the man leaning against the balcony, wiping the blood from the blade on the back of the already partially bloodied suit. The blade then retracted into the hilt and he returned it to his waist, where it clipped into place. It was a fairly advanced piece of technology, considerably more convenient than most close-quarter weaponry, but Janus was looking for an upgrade. Something with a bit more versatility, that offered a few more options in a fight. Not that he didn't already have near-limitless options in the field to begin with.

With a dull look, Janus gave the dead business man a light push and the corpse toppled over the balcony, plummeting into the river rapids below. Nightmares were not the only targets the Blacklist held in their sights. Often, Janus was sent to make use of his more... conventional skills, when subtlety and finesse were required to silence a target away from prying eyes. Indeed, if Atlas was well known for his antics, Janus had earned only rumours, urban legends and rare 'boogeyman' sightings. The public, and by extension the Blacklist's enemies, were somewhat aware of his presence by now, a mysterious agent of deadly practices that was seemingly everywhere and nowhere at once. Janus often wondered if this was how Echo felt about how the others in the Blacklist thought of it. A mythological being, in a sense.

A god.

Janus found himself looking in a cracked mirror and raised an eyebrow at his own image. He was not nearly vain or prideful enough to believe any of that stuff, nor was gullible enough to think he deserved it. He served the Blacklist for his own reasons, and if that led to his own notoriety growing then so be it. Although he had to take responsibility for at least some the blame, he had a sort of habit or custom. Every single body found after a mission Janus was on shared one thing in common: a small knife lodged directly in the lower back. Even the man he had just killed had one. He usually did this after the target had died as it was easier, but even now he wasn't sure why he still did it. It had been his mark during his old assassin/mercenary days and he just couldn't seem to... let go. As if he would forget an element of his past if he did, or maybe it was because he WAS afraid to let his own legend die. Was it pride after all? Weakness? Fear?

CRACK.

The mirror suffered extensive damage as Janus pound his fist into it, a hard look featuring across his face. Now was not the time for this, not on a mission. The apartment he wasn't in was lavishly furnished, compliments of the late Mr. Darius, who had decent taste for a corrupt business man. One wouldn't even have guessed he was a buyer into the illegal magic black market. Luckily, Janus was thorough and had tracked some questionable shipping to the man's house. The next task would be to find from where the shipment had originated and who it was that remained hidden at the other end of the forbidden magic trail.

Janus placed a hand to his ear, pressing a button on the side to activate the smaller microphone function.

"Received. Standby..."

Another mission. He seemed to get assigned to a lot these days, more so than most agents. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing. On one hand, some envied him for being continuously placed his the field, racking up a lot of experience and detailing a very gratuitous record. On the other hand, some sympathised for all the relentless nonstop work grind he had to do to achieve such a record, in which rest was a commodity and the field was more of a second home. Janus didn't particularly mind himself, preferring to keep himself busy at all times anyway. The more he worked, the closer he got to atonement, and the less time he spent out of hours not being distracted by his own reality. It was not incorrect to say he was frequently visited by his past when he slept, his nightmares much more daunting than any real ones he had fought previously.

Janus knew where the safehouse was; The Fortune Teller had taken him there on a few occasions. Luckily he was just within range of it to make use of his power. He dug in his inner suit pocket for something and eventually found what he had been looking for: a neatly laminated photograph. He stared at it, focus devoted entirely to the little square. He had a smartphone, of course, but he had made a rule to carry no evidence of the Blacklist locations on hackable devices. Hard copies would suffice, and they only way they should be stolen would be if Janus was dead first. After about 8 minutes of staring at the thing, Janus finally sighed and returned the picture to his pocket. A look of defeat to some, but it was convenient relief to Janus. So the place did still exist and this call was not a trap being used to lure him to the enemy. He knew most would be shocked to know how often that usually happened.

Finished with his business here, Janus turned away from the mirror and walked towards a nearby wall. Just as he was about to walk into, a purple spark of energy appeared before him. Almost instantaneously, a 6'3" tall purple oval portal materialised into existence directly in front of him. Unfazed, Janus continued to walk forward and through the swirling mass of energy until...

...

His eyes first rested upon a small little girl upon a chair. He knew her, it was Ping. Their resident magic-sensitive. The two of them had worked together a few times to seek out dangerous or high value magical targets. She was decent at what she did and didn't compromise the mission, so it was safe to say Janus... liked her? It was a foreign concept and he didn't dwell on it. Sweeping his gaze around the room, he took everything in; it was exactly as he had remembered it; exactly as the picture depicted. He sometimes though the amalgamation of random trinkets, personal items and various collectibles were a maze simply designed to throw off any investigative eyes. This place was too boring to house a secret international, highly-influential, anti-nightmare hunting organisation. Although it did seem to have magic coming out of the walls to any other magic-sensitives, so perhaps it wasn't too far off the mark after all.

His eyes next rested on Atlas, one who he had accompanied on more than a few of the more... eventful missions. Such days were not much for stealth and subtlety as he so preferred, more as overwhelming power, chaos and destruction were much preferred instead. Not that Janus had any complaints to that. It was often liberating to simply let off steam on a few occasions such as those, where he could use the full destructive extent of his magic. Atlas seemed fairly straightforward to Janus, the open and honest type if anything else. He wasn't sure if he got along with the man because he rarely said anything to him, let alone anything to anyone ever for that matter. Even so, Atlas was another that had proved to be skilled at his job so Janus didn't have anything to say against him anyway.

And then Princess Shakespearana. Much alike Ping, she was small in stature but very effective at what she did. Although ther jobs didn't often cross, he had had to aid her in getting around to more than a few sites for analysis in the past. She seemed grounded and capable, so Janus simply left it at that. He didn't question the truth or necessity into her 'Princess' title, but then again one of his legends titled him as the 'God of Doorways', so he was probably the very last person who should be concerned about it. However, he did have some concerns as to her magic and how she used it. Not that it didn't achieve results, but more how it was affecting the girl mentally. Someone so young was very impressionable, malleable, breakable. Janus wasn't sure if he was supposed to be the one to do it, but he thought that someone should keep an eye on her just in case.

After having paused for a brief moment post-exiting his portal, which promptly closed up behind him, Janus, after having taken a look at everything present, turned to The Fortune Teller and gave her a nod. Further details would come, given that nothing was presently happening. He was a patient person after all, they were likely waiting for the others to arrive. For a brief moment, Janus wondered if he should offer a 'pickup' to anyone who was currently at an inconvenient distance to the safehouse. After a moment of consideration, he decided to not worry about it and instead chose to sit against some sort of ancient wooden chest. If anyone needed transportation, they would contact him. He closed his eyes and awaited for further interaction.

 

[Eshspoyeofdoom]

STEVEN WILLIAMSON
|KINGFISHER|​

"Incoming message from...Echo... Accept?" Steven's earpiece loudly rang, scaring him.
"Damn it! Really? Accept," he scowled while slowly soldering two wires together, "Make it quick, I'm busy."

Steven had spent the last hour inside a nightmare's penthouse, making a rather large tripwire bomb. Risky, for sure,but new. He was quite new to the art of bomb-making, but using his existing knowledge on mechanics and vehicles he learnt quickly and grew it seemed to grow into a hobby for him.

Besides, he had gotten bored of the usual missions he was assigned. Traffic 'accidents', robberies 'gone wrong' and 'suicides' got boring surprisingly quickly. He wanted something more deliberate and...criminal. Or maybe... he just wanted some fame. After all, those previous missions earned him no notoriety at all. Instead, his missions were blamed on bad drivers and petty thieves. He wanted to rise up in society. His codename, echoed and feared throughout the government for years to come until its eventual downfall.

Steven stood up and glued the wires onto the door before returning to the bomb, stuck firmly onto the ceiling above the entrance. Standing back, he rechecked the circuits, flipped a couple of switches and marvelled at his masterpiece. A bomb. Born from the mind of a car mechanic.

"Copy that, ETA 20 minutes," Steven spoke back into his mic before turning around and packing his various materials back into a duffel bag. He entered each and every room, throwing open drawers and cabinet doors in search of valuables. Lucky for him, there were plenty here. Various pieces of art, jewellery and rare collectables were chucked carelessly into his, now fairly full, duffel back. This was Christmas for him.

After clearing out the essentials, Steven switched off all the lights, opened the front door and exited the apartment. He kneeled down and looked into the keyhole as the darkness started seeping into it, turning ever so gently before a loud click echoed through the halls. Satisfied, he stepped into the elevator and descended down to the ground floor.

"All ready for your meeting, Mr Reed?" The receptionist smiled as Steven exited the elevator and started walking towards the exit, "Oh, I forgot to remind you, you have dinner at 7 with your business partners."

"Geez, I thought these were receptionists, not bloody secretaries," he thought to himself as he raised a thumbs up to the woman, before opening the glass door and entering the very heart of the city. He mingled and mixed into the lunch crowd, making sure he lost anyone trying to follow him, before making his way towards the 'rendezvous'.

--
​

"Right...so can anyone of you tell me why I'm here?" Steven demanded as he marched into the little store. His eyes softened as they lay onto The Fortune-Teller. Someone who was idolised and feared in The Caves. He had met her only two months after he joined The Blacklist. He recalls asking her a million questions after she revealed her identity. "How powerful are you?", "Why do I need machines to help me?", "How can I improve my preforming capabilities". Those questions all rang through his mind as he raised he arms up in greeting, "It's been too long, Mariette. I see you've changed the store the last time I visited."

He looked around, he saw Ping. Another natural, magic-sensitive who made Steven a little jealous. She had also been with Mariette when he last visited her. Looking back, it all feels too long ago. The excitement and thrill of joining The Blacklist had seemed to fade over time and only now, had it been rejuvenated.

Atlas. Someone who came from a similar background and shared the same views. He had the honour of working with him a while back. Something about him made him memorable. He gave him a slight nod before finally settling onto Princess.

A flamboyantly dressed girl who stood out from Day 1 of his time in The Blacklist. A strange member to say the least. A child, powerful,for sure but still a child. She was strong, she had to be in order to even make it this far. So far, a mystery to him.

Another man remained in the room. He, unlike the rest, was unfamiliar. He nodded to him to before leaning on the wall and turning back to The Fortune-Teller and Ping, "So..guys...are we waiting for anyone?"

 

[Euclid Leaf]

Eshspoyeofdoom Idea Kloudy Prizzy Kriyze ...

"Laura!" Ping smiled, running over to the military princess when she popped out the oven like a piece of origami. "Did you sleep well?"

Mariette half-glanced over to Laura when she emerged, still largely looking over the book. "Morning, indeed? It's the afternoon, little one. You should grab some food despite missing the occasion. I saved you a portion from the morning."

The woman smiled to the first guest, orange eyes glittering knowingly. "My, look who it is? If it isn't a little spider! Welcome, Atlas//. I heard you have quite the little scuffle this morning? That body you left..." her tone shifted for a moment, "Well, lucky you are in my territory. My assistants have already devoured it. But please do be careful. Echo can only delete and tamper with the digital evidence an incident goes too... public. Normally, leaving a 'message' is okay. But the Maegus are beginning to take things a little more serious around here. How admirable of them."

Ping looked to the the pale man, a bit worried, "Are you her father...?" The little girl didn't really know any members she didn't physically meet, and by his affectionate questions deemed her to be some sort of parental figure. "Well, if you are. I'd like you to know. Laura has been having a hard time sleeping... Maybe she misses you? You should visit more."

Though somewhere, she knew that wasn't exactly the case, there was no other solution she could think of. She was fidgeting with her glasses as she tried to suppress the sad feelings of watching Laura suffer in her sleep. Ping seemed very worried about the the silver haired girl. Though she didn't quite understand everything she said, Laura was the only other one that she was otherwise similar to her. Most of the society was either too busy or treated her like a little child and didn't like including her too much. To Laura, she viewed her as an equal. A friend.

But as Laura and Atlas exchanged a hug, though to the embarrassment of the former. And watching the short conversation, Ping glanced back curiously, "Artifacts...? The only thing we did last night was following Mariette around and scan a few things she picked up. Like a rock... and uh... a penny? Or was it a dime... I don't think it's very important, on second thought."

As their exchange went on, another literally popped into store. It was like reality have been split and a doorway was opened. Janus. For a man who preferred to be subtle, he certainly had a bit of flare and showiness to his abilities.

Mariette didn't need to say much, returning a grin. The man was familiar enough with her already, and he was not the type to speak much in the first place. "Good work. I'll pass Codename: Ardent// the good news. I'm sure that stern-face will be delighted. Maybe he'll even smile? That military officer had been interfering with his operations for a while now."

With that, she closed the glass book and stood up with a little hop. "Well, I suppose I should get the tea ready before the briefing." She quickly waltzed over to the stove and kettle near the counter, humming as she flick the switch with an expecting for to turn on. But when nothing happened after a few more tries, she gave the metal case a firm tap and opened up the top. Within was an underground space gigantically larger than was physically or logically possible to fit in the store, let alone even if there had been a basement beneath it. Down the incredibly long shaft, a lake of lava and a bright red toad-like creature can be seen rolled over comfortably at the center.

"Hey!" she shouted down, stirring the beast. It looked up to her with a heavy, bulbous eyed glare from being awoken from its nap.
"Wakey, wakey! Don't be lazy, deary. We have guests!" Groaning in disgruntlement, the dimension beyond rumbled by its voice alone. The witch cooed. "Aw. Be nice now. I'll treat you later, okay? How about a nice stripe of fresh kelpie meat? Will that do?"

Suddenly, a bright flash and a roar erupted from the cavern below, the witched closing the hatch before it can engulf her. She turned back to the others with an embarrassed laugh, patting the smoking parts of her collar. "Oh, Molten Bofans. Fickle things."
Despite the destruction that had been felt, the stove did nothing more than light up with a bright white fire. Acting as though it was an all too common occurance, Mariette was already returned to her business, unpacking a brown-packaged box of herbs from a cupboard above. "But their secreted slime is priceless for their elemental resistant. And their magical fire is necessary to adding a special touch of flavor to my tea."

As she began to heat up the water, Kingfisher// came in with a fury.

"My, you know how I am. I get bored too easily. I just have to mix things up. But before we start asking questions, as you like to do... Why don't we wait for everyone and enjoy some tea in the meantime? The leaves are fresh from the distant Himalayas!~" said Mariette, motioning over to the round table at the center of the large storefront. On a closer look, it was a massive hand-carved thing with a crystalline globe embedded right into the centerpoint, irregular and raised as though carved out of the base of a massive, ancient tree.

Sitting down on the largest chair, a draping armchair adorned with candles and embroidery, Mariette waited with a smile for everyone else to join her.

"Come now. Don't be strangers. Maybe we can even start with a few introductions while we wait for the last few to show up? I know some of you haven't made acquaintance yet. "

Though it was easier to share information over their phones and other such, the Witch much preferred a more personal approach. There was just some special triviality between interaction that is lost in modern technology. If these unique individuals were expected to work and fight and survive each other, they should at least be comfortable enough to talk. If not, argue and bash heads properly.

...

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

Laslo "Atlas" Thorne
He could not help but smile at her embarrassed expression as she gave him a hug and turned away, but he did not push her. Poor girl was a real fighter considering the situation she was in, and she'd come to him when she felt it was necessary. Her language was as pompous as always. It seemed to annoy some, but Laslo found it harmless and in fact quite endearing. Laura never gave him the idea that she got in over her head, but she had a way of sounding so innocently self-righteous. Strange contradiction, but it was nonetheless adorable.

Fortune-teller, who'd been talking whilst they shared their swift hug, now recieved a glance from Atlas. He simply nodded knowlingly back at her before looking back to Laura, although her words did stick to his mind. Not that the blacklist had a much PR to uphold that he was aware of, but whether he liked it or not they were covering up his tracks. If he kept his antics up it might eventually throw a spanner in the works. He softened his grip on the staff, allowing to slide down and rest over his neck.

Suddenly Ping interjected, and though her first words mildly shocked Atlas the follow up was enough to make him stiffle a chuckle. Laura was not going to like that one. As she went on, Ping continued to poke holes in her words causing Laslo's sides to weakly shake with internal laughter. It continued until a sudden shift in the atmosphere of the room foretold the imminent appearance of Codename:Janus, the God of Doorways. Atlas gave him a glance over his shoulder and recognizing nod, before replying to Laura's earlier inquiry about his reason for joining. "I could hardly pass up an opportunity to show off, could I? 'Sides, someone's gotta keep you grounded. All the... 'investigations' of 'ancient artifacts' might get to your head, y'know?" He joked, then finally rose from the floor.

"And nah, Ping. We're not even related." A solemn thought sounded through his head, "And thank God for that. Being a shitty dad runs in the family." but he quickly shook it out and leaned against his staff. He reached into his backpack with his free hand, and over his shoulder he spotted the Witch getting to preparing some tea in a convoluted fashion. This place truly was full of surprises, in the most literal sense the sentence have ever been spoken."Here," He withdrew his hand from the bag and had produced a comb that he tossed in Laura's general direction. "Believe me, tangles in long hair is no fun. I used to look just like yourself a couple years ago."

Before the chitchat continued, Codename:Kingfisher made his entrance. Loudly, in fact very similar to how Atlas would once have acted, he demanded information immediately. Kingfisher had only arrived a year later into the blacklist, but Atlas was surprised by how similar he'd been to his younger self. Though, they had very obvious differences, and Atlas still respected the man as an equal. In fact, as soon as the Witch had replied to him and invited them all to sit down, Atlas walked up beside him and gave him a pat on the back saying "It's nice to see ya, bud." Before taking the seat opposite of Fortune-teller.

"Well, I for one know everyone in the room. I can't think of- well, actually, Kingfisher, have you had an opportunity to work with Janus before?"
Eshspoyeofdoom Euclid Leaf Idea Kloudy

 

[Kloudy]

Janus
"God of Doorways"

"No."

Janus interjected into Atlas' conversation with Kingfisher promptly, having opened his eyes to stare at the two dully. It appeared as though everyone had gathered so the details of the mission were likely imminent, meaning he could afford to spare some time making 'small talk' with the others, provided it didn't last too long.

"Kingfisher has a distinctly different line of work. I have never worked with him." It was the most he'd said in a while, to be completely honest. Janus disliked doing anything unnecessary, which was partly the reason it was so rare to hear him speak, so the idea of excessively talking was alien to him. short and concise, get the point across. It was both convenient, efficient and a fine philosophy to live by, in his opinion.

However, that wasn't to say he didn't know who Kingfisher was. Janus made it a point to at least know of a colleague that he might work with in the future. Kingfisher was a mechanic by trade, engineer by mentality, and a demolitionist in his spare time. The latter was not necessarily on record, but Janus had observed him on a mission at one point, perhaps out of pure curiosity - he was still unsure why he had done it himself - to see the man rigging some sort of device. It was safe to assume the intent behind it as the location was later discovered to be reduced to little more than ash. Indeed, the talent for trap-making was a daunting one, even for someone as skilled as Janus was in such fields as detecting said traps. He could find little fault in devices themselves, so the abundant talent was obvious. Despite this, it was somewhat unfair to leave Kingfisher in the dark given that Janus knew so much about him, so he decided to give the guy a break.

"Codename: Janus. I usually handle tactical transportation and assassination." Not exactly the two most closely linked specialities a person could have, but it was what fate had given him and he hadn't argued. Other than those two things, Janus wasn't really much. His life revolved around his work and that was all his work was. Honestly, no one was missing out much information supposing they knew what he had just told everyone present. Unless, of course, they wanted finer details such as his real name and information on his past. Such sensitive data was luckily classified on Echo's system, so he was safe from prying individuals at least. He preferred not to have his personal life looked into, so it was all the better for him.

Prizzy Kriyze Eshspoyeofdoom

 

[Idea]

Princess Shakesperana
AKA Laura Ojohime

• Laura's POV

• 
  Perhaps it was due to just being extremely tired myself, but I got the immediate impression the other girl unnaturally hyper about seeing me. I mean, it wouldn't be at all surprising if an artist and blacklist of my skill had some fans here and there, but despite the simplicity of the girl's worlds her glee made me feel like the Sun just rose alongside me making some blinding halo that I just couldn't notice. Which all together only made it more surprising to hear Mariene's statement that it was in fact the afternoon already.
  
  "Oh my... that is certainly a problem. Still, my thanks to you for the concern and saving me a piece of the delicacies you cook. I had hoped I would be done with my job yesterday but... Judging by the message that woke me up, it must be only at it's beggining." With that said I reached out a hand to pat the other girl's head, while giving her the best smile I could muster. In spite of my best efforts, the image of that nightmare last night was still haunting the back of my head, now given a bit more spotlight after the question about the condition of my sleep. "Oh, but of course fair maiden Ping! If only nightmares could sleep as deeply and sweetly as I did myself, and perhaps our jobs would be gone from necessity. If you are worried about the lateness, then it's nothing to be concerned about, my body may be young, but my spirit is high!"
  
  The conversation soon turned to greeting Atlas, to whom fortune teller referred as a "little spider" right before talking about this body which her assistants devoured and the like. I wondered if he was ok... but that didn't mean he should be underrated!
  
  "He isn't any spider, he's more like a wild lion, smashing what stands in the way of his might. He wouldn't get a scratch from a weakling." I whispered still facing the wall, now pouting a little as well. I was still trying to get adjusted, not even noticing Ping approaching Atlas. I was too late to stop her when she asked him if he was my father. My jaw dropped, and my ears would have too with all the steam metaphorically coming out of them. Half frozen-over in shock, I was about to protest, when she dropped an even bigger bombshell, which had me jumping at her to cover her mouth. Ah, if it hand't been Ping, there would be swords flying at all corner's of the store by now!
  
  "Y-y-you w-were wa-watching m-m-me sleep?!" Was my secret out? No, I couldn't let it. Even if she saw it, I couldn't let it. I had to find some way of making this slide... change the topic. To literally anything else. ANYTHING! "Ping, don't say anything about that. Nothing. Ok? We're friends right?"
  
  After whispering that to her (thought it may have seemed like one of the creepiest things imaginable to an outsider), I turned to Atlas again.
  
  "Ah, you see, well, hum, hav-have you been hum... practicing and stuff?" I had NO idea what I was saying anymore.
  
  Fortunately for me, I could breathe a huge sigh of relief when the large portals popped out of nowhere within the store, prompting the visit of one very proiminent individual among the blacklists, someone whom even I had learned the name of, and quite a memorable name at that: J-Anus. Or something similar to that. Personally, I preferred that version of the name. We only worked a coupled times together, but this interruption might just be the most useful he had ever been.
  
  "Oh-oh look, it's another newcomer! J-Anus no less! How have you been doing? With those mighty portals of yours, one would figure you could be far too busy to deal with random requests such as the one that just came." I commented, only to discover that once again, Ping was talking to Atlas. On one hand, it was a good thing that she no longer was talking about my sleeping habits. On the other hand...
  
  "Ping, why? I... I mean, certainly, they COULD have been important. very very important. You know... for what other purpose would have been called and made stay then, if not for the importance of my skills? If if anything, it's Fortune Teller's fault that she had me inspect so many items of lackluster worth!" It seemed to be of little avail, since Atlas began introdcucing those jokes into his speech, or I thought they were jokes anyway. Honestly, it did sound a bit reasonable, except ofr the fact I didn't let things just go to my head like that, I was smarter than that. But I still ended up covering my face with both hands from the shame of his comments.
  
  Only when the man said "here" did I allow myself to peak, removing my hands a little too slowly however to stop the little "boop" sound the comb made as it bumped into my forehead, pushing it back a little while the tools fell to the ground. I reached down to catch it with one hand, while the other rubbed my forehead.
  
  "My thanks... I suppose." I responded. Yet, as I took the comb to my hair, it finnally hit me he just said he used to look just like me. The image of Atlas in my military uniform, with long silvery hair as he giggled into a white background made me forget about the pain in my forehead, as I was more focused on the contractions of my ribs as I tried to surpress a chucle. Doing a half-decent jobs, except my lips were curved in a smile already and cheeks were puffed like a squirl before winter.
  
  The scene was interrupted by a new person with a very pragmatic question: Why were we called, after all? The new person was one I didn't recognize, and apart from some irregular equipped by the side of his waist, it seemed like it was on purpose. The person seemed plain, ntohing that would make them stand out too much. A cowardly, boring strategy, but a strategy no less.
  
  The man's answer was the Fortune teller essentially asking us to hold our horses. She offered to make us tea, something to which nobody else seemed to object, so what choice did I have but to nod along as well? I did jump back (making sure not to drop the comb again) when I saw the woman opening up and talking to some creature below where I couldn't even see. Did she have a world stored in every drawer of this house?!
  
  "I-I'll have some as well. Along with brea- I mean lunch. Or anything that can be offered to fill my belly." I told Marienne, while the rest seemed to be begining to introduce themselves, judging by the so untalkative J-Anus's innitiative in introducing himself.
  
  "Well, regardless of what the case may be, I should do my introduction as well, if nothing else, then as protocol. I go by codename: Princess Shakespearana, among our group. While I am familiar with some arcana spells, my true specialty lies with alchemy. I hope everyone's performances today will pleasing." I bowed to the others with one arm over my belly while my torso bent foward, very formally but without the stifness that would make it seem unnusual, thus suggesting I did in fact, do this bow with frequency.
  
  With that said, one question still remained for me.
  
  "I presume whatever we are going after is the real deal, is it not? With J-Anu's portals, my alchemic skills and Atlas's own raw-power we should be able to make easy work of any average apparition. If there are going tobe even more of us, and who knows if you yourself will be joining us as well... it can't be your everyday nightmare, but the finest entertainment only." I inquired the witch.
  
  
  Euclid Leaf Prizzy Kriyze Kloudy Eshspoyeofdoom
  

 

[Eshspoyeofdoom]

STEVEN WILLIAMSON
|KINGFISHER|​

"Ooh and me!" Steven blurted, trying to make himself more impressionable to the other members. He got onto his feet and lifted his head to face the rest of the members.

"For those who aren't familiar with me... I am Codename:Kingfisher," he turns to face Princess and slowly reaches his hand out in greeting, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess Shakespearana."

He quickly rotates around to the centre of the shop, facing the neatly laid table, "Now, Janus is only half correct, but I'm flattered that someone did their research on me, I really am. Yes, I do a different line of work but you see, we have one thing in common. Let's face it, we all take out the trash. Janus just gets there quicker while I tend to...do it more differently. Janus has a lovely sword and I have a..."

Steven doubles over, clutching his stomach. His face contorted in pain and agony. Several seconds pass as Steven begins to shake, just a bit. And like that, he stands up straight and wipes the sweat off his brow. "...A malfunctioning kidney. Heh heh, sorry. It does act up from time to time like that. You get used to it. Back to what I was saying, I have a lovely PTY-87 also known to you as a shotgun with a revolving chamber. I also have these...strange...daggers? Decorations? Kitchen tools? I'm not really sure, but it cuts through things quite well so I like it."

He makes his way towards the table, ducking under the low hanging lanterns and creeping through shelves. He picks up the kettle and pours himself a small cup of tea before downing his cup, "This...is quite nice! Where did you get these again? Himalayas? Cool. I really needed that. I might help myself to a second serving."

Euclid Leaf , Kloudy , Idea

 

[Soviet Panda]

Connor just knew he was going to be late. As soon as he got that message he knew that someone would get there before him. But he didn't mind to awfully much. While most of the other members that he's met were constantly busy, running from place to place and sleeping where they could, he had a nice little apartment to call his own. It wasn't much, but at least it wasn't on the ground. And that was the reason he was going to be late. He was in his small apartment, sleeping. The droning of the message was what woke him up, and while he wasn't 100% sure what it was about, he got the gist of it. And he knew where to go.

So getting up, he got dressed. Stopping at the coat rack, he decides to not try and hide the Banger and instead of taking a long coat that covered his legs, he grabbed a jacket and an umbrella. Looking out the window it looked like it had rained, and it might start raining again. So off he went, down the road, mindlessly whistling to himself, his modified trench knife in it's sheath at his hip. But to be honest, given his augmentations, he wouldn't have anything to fear against simple muggers.

Eventually he reached Fortune Tellers shop. He never completely got used to how big it actually was inside. It looked like a small closet compared to the surrounding buildings, but in reality it could stand shoulder to shoulder with the best of them. So when he walked through the door, not noticing the cracked window, he paused for just a second before continuing.

And he was late. Or the latest one to have arrived. It didn't look like a briefing had started yet, none that he was aware of at any rate. So he decided he'd just pretend that he was there the entire time, and slowly leaned against a precariously stacked pile of stuff. He could smell tea was being made. He didn't like tea. And what was this about a revolver shotgun? Did the boy think that peashooter was impressive? "Hm" Connor grunted after the boy was done talking about what he ran around with. But he didn't add his own two cents, no real point. If they were going to get into a pissing contest about whose was bigger, he'd like to have his on hand to show first hand.

 

[Euclid Leaf]

Soviet Panda Idea Eshspoyeofdoom Kloudy Idea ...

The cluttered little magic shop was getting more and more lively by the minute. The moment the pot whistled the completion of the tea, Mariette was busy pouring the steaming kettle into cups as she listened to the fleeting conversations. Her face was beaming, visibly pleased by the light exchanges between the agents. The faint amber liquid spilled from the twisted wood and clay teapot in small streams, twinkling as though reflecting her fine mood as she expertly moved around the cramped space. It was like an elaborate dance as she avoided people and obstacles around the shop, greeting each and every person with a sweet smile in between. New or old, she wanted them to feel at home and among a 'family' in what she considered and pronounced as her 'home'. The red-haired witch hummed as she heard Laura try to defend herself and her own importance on the mission to the others, issuing a doting pat to her head as she passed by. Though she did no more than stroked the military cap, considering the size.

"Of course I wouldn't ask anyone to do anything useless. Those supposed rocks and 'useless' trinkets were more than just that. Well, most of them." she shrugged, "This type of Nightmare tends to possesses certain objects that are dear to their target. 'To gain access to their hearts', if you will. And in doing so, there is often a change in the object. If anyone can detect such a molecular shift, it would be you."

Hearing Laura was hungry, the Witch then darted her orange eyes about. "Now, where is she? Ping? Can you--"

"Already got it!"

The blue-haired girl stepped up from behind Laura, giggling as nudged her with a sizable lunch box wrapped in a neat cloth with triangle designs, "I just heated it up. I'm hungry too! Let's eat together."

The young girl dragged over a chair and patted it indicating it belonged strictly to 'Laura' before sitting herself right next to it. Unfolding and separating the different layers of trays, there were some usual things like rice, mixed vegetables, and slices of meat. But there was some gnarly looking stuff too. A fried fish head sat in the middle of the largest tray, surrounded by a rosary of peculiar looking polka dotted purple mushrooms. Luckily, its eyes had already been scooped out otherwise it would be staring Laura right in the face. Despite how it looked, everything smelled proper and savory. Ping was practically drooling.

Without waiting, Ping was already digging in, getting a mouthful of vegetables.

"Save some for Laura, now." Mariette warned before turning to Kingfisher// as he suddenly buckled over in pain. She shook her head, already knowing what it was as he explained the literal physical malfunction to the others.

"You really need to get that thing sorted out... Hopefully you'll get rewarded accordingly for this mission. I know the Blacklist isn't the most financially secure of organizations, but I'm sure they'll do something if I put in a word for you. Who knows, if all else fails, I might even be able to whip up a replacement from Nightmare tissue you find. How does spitting acid or venom sound? That'll be fun." She said while fantasizing the thought, totally ignoring the numerous risks that such an implant might involve.

And as the different conversations began to pick up, it seemed less like an important meeting than a gathering of recluses and oddballs. Truly, an organization of socially unfit mages and vagrants. If not for her special wards and helpers dispelling their presence and displaying an illusion to the outside, they would have garnered quite the attention by now. Mariette almost didn't want to carry on, very much fancying the latter observation anyhow. But time was running short on the celebratory mood as the last few showed up. The somber mechanical Mule// was already making himself known, the surly faced Black Friday//, who tucked herself in the back and away from the table, and finally, a certain wise-cracking veteran who dropped in at the very end. Literally, falling out into a pile of tattered cloth as he tumbled from one of the cupboards behind the counter.

-Crash!

The older man sat on the wooden flooring drenched in a smelly green ooze, like he had been dragged from some bizarre dimension. Maybe Laura was right? There were just little entrances to various worlds hidden everywhere in the shop.

He wrinkled his nose, blinking once, "Yeah, not doing that again..."

"My, my. How many times do I have to tell you?" Mariette said, shaking her head, "Take the right on the black corridor then right again on the purple. Not the violet one."

"Yeah, my bad. Didn't think it was confusing enough already, what with the Mauve, Lavender, and Plum shades in the mix. Might I suggest instating a navigator or some signposts of sorts? Just a suggestion."

"That would defeat the purpose of a secret pasage now, wouldn't it?" she retorted.

The man sneered, pointing an index finger up. His teal eyes sparked slightly, flashing an echo similar to a lens flare as the ooze spread from his fine clothing and honed into an oily gyrating ball that shortly swiveled up and vanished from sight. To the inexperienced, it might seem like he made the thing disappear. But in reality, it was dissipated into the air through a two-step alchemical transmutation. Advanced condensation, of sorts. The same, albeit weaker, reaction can be found when water changes molecular form into steam. This version of his had added flare, of course, with the second 'step' turning the resulting steam directly into oxygen instead.

He found audiences are far less impressed at a 'magic trick' when they realize they can achieve the same effect by using a simple stove.

With a huff, straightening out his long tapered coat, the tall, grinning man looked over at the gathered group and made a short bow. He tipped his pointy fedora hat and spoke in a casual tone that betrayed his status and ranking. "Greetings. I'm sure you're all acquainted with me. Heck, I'm sure I taught each of you at least a thing or two before. Even you." he winked at Mariette, who purposefully refrained from showing a reaction, "But if not, I'm the Handholder//. And please no 'Mister' Handholder. It kinda ruins the name. At least, in my opinion. Rambling aside..." he muttered, snatching up a cup and tasting it with the tip of his tongue before swigging it happily. Smacking his lips in approval, the man continued on while standing by the edge of the great table. "What brings us here, oh all-seeing Fortune-Teller//? Something big enough to warrant pulling a good majority of the Blacklist out of their sectors? You know, gathering so many of us here is going to garner some attention from the Curriculum. Illusion or not. Our Frequencies are too high."

"Not if they're already occupied with something equally, if not more, tantalizing than us." she said, smiling mischievously.

Handholder's eyebrows lifted, his lips now pursed over the warm liquid.

Satisfied with his reaction, Mariette swung over and placed herself in the decorated candled seat once more. She cleared her throat and glanced back and forth and the allotted round table, "You see... there has been a strange phenomena that has been developing here in the outlying Chamberlain District." she muttered, pulling out the same glass-orbed book from earlier and placing it at the center for everyone to see.

With a snap of her fingers, the pages flicked open and revealed an inked image of a violent, looming shadow that is haunting a sleeping individual. Just the presence of it caused the candles around the shop to dim and scatter, the magic of the book causing a visual representation of what was on the page to become animated. A shadowy entity now swirled between them, and a dry coughing that slowly gained potency as the lights waned. Like it was being scared away. For a moment, each of them would a sheer terror. A fear buried deep within themselves, or something they might never knew even existed. An agent or two might already know of its sort, having heard rumors or read about such a thing somewhere, but many of them will find it new and peculiar. Ordinarily, Nightmares were physical manifestations, impatient monsters who ravaged and sought pleasure in the present. Hency why many of them attacked on sight or didn't bother too much with any sort of trickery, even if it was used. But this one was different.

"A 'Dream-Eater', as I eluded with Laura beforehand. Nasty thing, isn't it?" she muttered, shivering at the encroaching shadow between them, "This nightmare gains power from devouring positive emotions. Usually when their victim is asleep. By inducing dreams to the vulnerable mind, they elicit strong emotional responses by which the byproduct is consumed for strength. A 'traditional' nightmare, if you may." the witch explained.

The older man shrugged. "Strong, sure. But nothing you can't handle. Let alone just a few of us."

"Ah. But I couldn't." she corrected, pointing back to the book as the pattering brown pages flipped back. Now a long log and chart was presented to them. Dates, time-stamps, and personal observations compiled from across a few weeks. They were taken from various sources, indicating to the same instance; 'A dark message experienced in a passing dream'. Over and over, at different places across the district.

"Each time I vanquish it, the nightmare keeps coming back. Or perhaps it escapes my grasp? I do not know. But it seems to want something. Beyond just mindless feeding. And judging by the recent Maegus activity in the area. I find it no coincidence. Whatever this thing is, they seem to be interested too."

She waited for the thought to sink in before flicking her wrist and causing the shadow to vanish and the faint candle light to return. And though nothing had actually changed about the room from just a moment ago, the mood remained heavy and foreboding. Being someone who the society trusted as a font of information, at least regarding magical solutions and movements of the Maegus and Discrod in particular, it is pretty much unheard of for Mariette to 'not know' something in particular. Ping seemed the most visually affected by this, the young girl sat shivering in her seat. Despite enjoying her meal earlier, she now couldn't swallow what was left in her mouth, the spoon and fork now clutched in her white-knuckled grips. She looked absolutely wretched. Like she wanted to cry and vomit all at once.

Mariette leaned over and held the poor soul in her arms, "Now, now... I know it's been hard on you..."

...

 

[Idea]

Princess Shakesperana
AKA Laura Ojohime

• Laura's POV

• 
  I reached for codename: Kingfisher's hand as well, ignoring how my whole hand pretty fit inside just his fingers, and shook it.
  
  "The pleasure is all mine, kingfisher. To be fair with you, and was expecting you to come armed with a fishing rod or something to that effect. Though in sillier thoughts I did imagine you clubbing nightmares with a tuna fish." I half-joked, for as much as it was a joke, it was also true.
  
  I suddenly a bit of air escaping out of my hat, through my air, as if it had been pressed. I looked up and back to see Fortune Teller attempting to make a pancake out of my hat, which I would have veementely protested to had she not also began to defend my worth and words, by claiming she would never give me useless work (though the "well, most of them" part was a little concerning) and then proceeding to explain that we were about to go about against a dream eater, which took possession of a person's dear objects, which only I could detect. I smirked and puffed out my chest pride, taking only a sneak peak at Atlas to whom I "coughed" to get hsi attention.
  
  "See Atlas? I DO have really important things I can do as well. No need for concerns or condescendance of any kind!" I told him, as I curiously awaited whatever Ping went to get. Only when she came back with a chair and lunchbox did I realize what she wanted. She patted the chair to have me sit there, but then proceeded to sitting down next to the chair. I couldn't bring myself to sit on the chair while she ate on the floor like a dog, so instead of taking the chair, I folded my legs as I sat down in front of her. Despite having brought the food for me,or so I assumed, she began devouring every vestable in it before I even had a chance to say anything. Still, with the way she was eyeing her food, I simply closed my eyes and patiently allowed her to take her share as much as she wanted, without saying anything myself. The witch, on the other, did tell her to leave some for me, and at point my stomach grumbled. I remained as still and calm looking as I could, as if that would help me pretend that it wasn't me who just made that sound.
  
  I might have remained completely distracted like that, if not for the sudden quite literal burst through one of the cupboard's behind the counter. My gaze instinctively turned to the familiar man, and I stood up and bowed to him as well, even though I wasn't his apprentice anymore.
  
  "Handholder! It is a pleasure to see you again, sir! How have you been fairing? Found any promising recruits for our cause as of late?" I immediately greeted, with a salute. Even with Orange Beard innitially refusing to allow me, Handholder had been the one to finally agree to my joining of the Black Lists, and even had trained me and many others, as white marks. Such a man had to be worthy of some respect, even if it looked like he was in even bigger need of a shower.
  
  After some witty exchanges with the witch, the recruiter finally went to the heart of the matter and got Mariette to expose to us the true nature of the enemy we were fighting. A nightmare that wanted something it seemed, one which had been relying a message of some kind and perhaps... ressurected? I felt chills crawling down my spine, even unpocketed some marbles ready to manifest the blades contained within them, while I heavily shook and struggled to focus on my pants. However, once the demonstration is closer, that creeping fear dispersed a bit, but the atmosphere remained tense. I sighed. So that was what we were fighting?
  
  "Perfect. Well, what is this delay, let us go at once!" I simply stated, even as the room fell into awkward silence right before. I smirked, proud of seemingly being the only one with guts in the whole room, even though I expected more from Atlas. From Ping, though, it was a little expected. I kneeled in frotn of her and offered a hug. "Don't fear, Ping. We'll deal with beast with the simplicity of cutting through butter, then come right back. You have my word."
  
  I smiled warmly to her, then unpocketed a marble and walked to the center of the group, raising my arm as much as I could so that everyone could see it.
  
  "I believe the magic I posesses will be perfect for this task. If this nightmare can indeed return, then containing it might be our best option. With my absorbtion I can break it down and take it's matter into another body separate from form. We'll just need to hold it still for a bit of time. Even if it is, in fact, immortal, surely it cannot escape complete emprisionment when all of it's information is separate from it's matter. I do retain one question, however...." I turned to the Fortune Teller "Why does it create bad dreams if it feeds on positive emotions?"
  
  interacting with : Euclid Leaf Prizzy Kriyze Eshspoyeofdoom Kloudy Soviet Panda
  

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

Laslo "Atlas" Thorne
As he was immediately cut off, Laslo acquiesed to simply staying silent and allowing conversation to develop on its own. To be honest he wasn't in the perfect headspace for idle conversation. Anger, or more specifically disappointment, had gathered at the core of his being with all that's been going down, and moving forward proved harder and harder with each season that passed. Keeping his eyes on the task at hand kept him above the surface though, and these people, regardless of their quirky and socially misfit behaviour, did somehow cheer him up at a primal level. They were so quintessentially human. Some parts of you can only come to light in certain situations of life.

Janus' short burst of speech almost knocked him off his chair, but his general cynicism disallowed him from honestly being that surprised. On the other hand, Laura's newly coined nickname for the agent forced Laslo to turn his head away and silently laugh on the inside. J-Anus. To hail the painfully stiff transporter like that was so beautifully socially awkward that he couldn't help it.

Kingfisher's extravagant monologue failed to catch his attention though. He didn't particularly care about his antiquated butter knives or shotgun. In fact, when he heard the grunt from Codename: Mule out of the corner of the room his mouth mischievously curled upwards. Mule had garnered more than a little of his respect with his sizeable automatic cannon. Honestly, beside Atlas himself, what was more badass than a soldier strong enough to combat maegus on an even playing field half the time? Atlas sure thought he was a breeze of fresh air anyway, and respected his powerful onslaught.

For a minute conversation carried itself, and so he took the opportunity to partake in a cup of the witch's tea. Why not, y'know? She seemed like a hospitable person, and if Laura trusted her then why shouldn't he. Can't spend every minute of every day smiling at everyone but being ready to stab them at a moments notice. That shit will kill your nerves.

Which may be the reason a small and brief lick of fire traveled up the length of his mechanical arm when Codename: Handholder burst into the room. He let air escape his lungs in a sigh as his tensional relieved itself, and tried to calm down with a gulp of the steaming liquid. Handholder, much like most people in the blacklist, was familiar to him. Atlas respected him in the way a rabbit respects a bear. Well, maybe a more fitting simile would be "evades him like a sane person evades eating uncooked chicken". The man was the worst kind of opponent, especially for Laslo's fighting style, and he was well versed in magics. Atlas honestly liked the man quite a lot, but being aware of his tactics forced him to accept his own weaknesses. Something that Laslo definitely wasn't a fan of, regardless of his own awareness of them.

It was true though, Agaso had met little in the way of dislike in his time in the blacklist. He never stated many opinions of his own, always stuck up for his friends or acquaintances in need, and somewhere along the line he felt some sort of general appreciation. Or well, maybe he just chose to ignore any negativity. Either way, he'd come to know just about everyone either by proxy or by having been on a mutual mission. However there was one, and though she was difficult to find there was something inside his trained senses that refused to let her go unnoticed. Codename: Black Friday's gaze was accompanied by a lingering feeling that could not be any less similar to when "Storm" tried to invade his own magic. It wasn't directly uncomfortable but it didn't feel healthy, and whether that meant unhealthy for himself or unhealthy for her or his own blade was something he didn't know.

He gave her fleeting glance over his shoulder whilst everyone started moving closer to the table, then focused back on Mariette. Interest was piqued in rhythm with her continued revelation of the task at hand. With a snap of her fingers she incited the pages of a book within a glass ball to slide open, and they soon stopped flipping at a picture of somebody sleeping whilst being circled by a dark being. The power in the image became apparent when the candles around the room began to flicker and fade, all but the one closest to Laslo. As a subconscious response he refused the power of this being to influence his light-source, and instead the candle appeared to burn brighter than it had formerly done. But aside from his ego, there was little that could protect him from the upcoming show.

The shadow left the page, and its dreadful aura illicited raw emotion. An old, ingrained reaction sparked within his soul, and the fear was imminently turned into fury. Atlas was forced to steel himself not to attempt lighting the apparition on fire, and he raised a hand to massage the bridge of his nose whilst the impulse waned. With an impressively unfazed voice Laura spoke and he raised his gaze to watch her. Strange. Perhaps she was much more brave than he'd ever expected, or maybe she hadn't had the time to be burdened down by the weight of life.

"... Risky tactic as always." He spoke with a sigh and a forced but gentle smile. "I'd wager your dreams turn sour when your positive emotions are taken away." Then, turning to Fortune-Teller, he added "But how can you say for certain it's the same nightmare? What if, say, you did kill those other Dream Eaters, and there's and underlying cause for the ridiculous concentration of them in the area?."

Eshspoyeofdoom Euclid Leaf Idea Kloudy Soviet Panda

 

[Soviet Panda]

Connor nodded towards Handholder when he made his unusual and graceless arrival to the meeting, having dropped from one of the cupboards. He wouldn't have been surprised if he was told that everyone knew Handholder on some level or another. He had trained a lot of people, Connor included. He was even willing to wager he had trained almost everyone here. Except maybe Codename: God of Doorways. That man held himself in a way that said he hadn't needed to be trained like the rest of them.

Then the briefing started, and he turned his attention towards the table with the glass ball on it. Then the image of the nightmare was revealed, and Connor was gripped by a sense of terror that he had never felt before. The only comparable thing he had was when he first saw a nightmare and saved that Blacklist member. But the feeling quickly let him go, and he could move once more. He listened as Fortune Teller told them all she could about it. 'Great,' Connor thought to himself as he was told more and more about the ethereal nightmare.

Once her and Handholder finished their back and forth, and the nightmare's likeness was once more sealed in the crystal ball, everyone got straight to planning. "Doesn't matter how it get's it's food, or if it's the right one. We need to take care of it." he said gruffly, bulldozing past the two questions that had been asked. "I'm useless against it. I'll be the bait. Anything you'd like me to have, or does it matter." He seemed to have been the only one to have remembered that the object the Nightmare possessed had to be significant to the victim. And he had a few of those to choose from. He had a picture of him and his family when he was only little, and one right before he got all of his augmentations. Item wise, he had Banger, that gun had saved him more times than he could remember, and his trench knife had been faithfully stabbing things for him for just as long. So it wasn't as if he didn't have something for the nightmare to possess, he just didn't know if it'd work with stuff like that. Or if he could part with it. Hopefully they didn't have to take it from him once this was all said and done. Hopefully.

 

[Euclid Leaf]

Prizzy Kriyze Idea Kloudy Eshspoyeofdoom Soviet Panda ...

Ping did not seem convinced by Laura's show of confidence, turning her head into the bosom of the witch. Though there wasn't much there to speak of, admittedly.

"I won't be that easy..." she whispered, "I don't know exactly what... but I feel something... wrong, terribly wrong..."

Mariette hushed the near sobbing girl, turning over to Handholder// and the others with a more somber smile, "Ping has been feeling this way for a while now. Her ability can't really be turned on or off, like a typical spell. Because it isn't. It's like a constant ringing in your ears, to put it into a better understanding. That is one of the drawbacks of being a natural of this nature. That's why I've been trying to distract her mind. If it's strong enough to overwhelm her senses, there's not telling what else could be going on here."

She spoke up when Atlas answered Laura, confirming his statement with a nod. "Indeed, the dreams are left to turn 'sour' as you aptly put it. As their victims are usually desperate souls who long for happiness, the void left behind are nothing but sorrows."

Her bright eyes then pointed to the side when questioned about her findings, "My investigations have led me to believe it is the same entity. Dream-Eaters are nightmares of great strife, and as is with most of their dark kin, tend to be primarily selfish and bear no allegiance to on another. Solitary hunters. Hence, their warped dreams are often different than one another. Yet this one has been the same. But I suppose it might be plausible for this be the work of a collective. If so, that itself is very pressing... I fear another incident like Black Sundown."

Handholder// made a strange face at the notion of this. As did the albino girl in the back, Black Friday//. But he quickly hid his concern with a smile, speaking up immediately after Mariette. He hoped to bring the room back to a better mood with a more positive directive.

"Ahem. Yes, but let's not assume we've already failed before we started! We are here to prevent disaster from striking. That is our purpose, correct?" he then pointed to Laura from across the table, "And to your previous idea, Kleinen Soldat. I couldn't have thought of a better plan myself! I think catching this 'Dream-Eater' is our best bet if this creature truly is immortal. Agreed? -- Agreed. However, speaking from experience, It'll be easier said than done. As Mule// already pointed out, physical means will have little effect on such things. Catching it alone will be a whole other pain. It'll easily force its any way into even guarded minds, and play vile illusions to trick their hunters. But we have a group of capable individuals, I'd say. I'm sure we'll come up with something... creative. Even if things get difficult."

"And I don't think anyone will have to do any 'baiting'." the witch clarified, "From my most recent report, the creature has already latched onto a target. We simply need to catch it in the act."

Moving over, the long-coated man smacked Mule// on the shoulder with a cheeky grin, "Speaking of which, my mechanical super soldier." then motioning to Kingfisher//, "And you, my hard-wiring extraordinaire! Even if you can't shoot a ghost with bullets, I know something you can. The Fortune-Teller// said there were Maegus who are interested in this thing too. I see them as our rich, posh, and overly stingy half-cousins from across the pond. How very kind of them to visit our humble home. Let's show them some of our kind 'hospitality'. I think it'll be fun for the whole family!"

Adding to this, Mariette beckoned the stern-faced girl in the background to come over with a prideful gesture. "I have also called in another expert on the supernatural. But of course. My very, oh, so adorable apprentice!"

A moment of awkward silence passed as the witch posed for the 'grand entrance' of her student, to no return.

"Haha... Sorry about that. She's a bit shy, so... it takes a bit of effort to get her to come out."

Finally, with a reluctant sigh, the shaggy tattooed albino pushed herself off the back wall and stepped towards the table. Brushing past the lanterns and overhanging decor with both arms placed firmly inside her coat pockets, she left a trail of rain water behind each step. Judging by the wetness of her leather jacket and dripping wavy hair, it was clear that she walked here through the rain in some way. Though it didn't seem like she cared. The juvenile-looking teen looked like the last person that wanted to be there for the 'group activities', appearing like a traditional Discordant herself. What with the spiteful glare, the snarled lip expression, and just overall 'bad air' about her. This wasn't just a sort of baseless 'feeling' either. Mages with dark, heavy frequencies tend to rub off harshly to those sensitive to disturbances in the IFS. Even those who were not, could feel the looming presence. The pale, fading pupils glimmered as eyes turned to her, the girl pointing her head to the side in discomfort. As she did so, a swirling black tattoo can be seen etched across the side of her neck. An attempt to cover a nasty flesh-scorched scar.

When she spoke, she had a thick, surly accent.

"Yep. Occult practitioner 'ere. Dealin' with ghosts sort uv comes with the job, obviously." rolling her eyes now, "Listen. Can't I just do this myself? I don't need anyone holdin' me back."

"Valla. Be nice. They're my guests." Mariette snapped. The two shared a brief stare-down before Mariette returned back to the table. It was like a mother chastising a rebellious daughter, though this 'mother' looked to be the same age. And so perhaps the effect was lessened.

"Whatever." Black Friday// muttered, breaking the contact with the witch and ejecting herself from the group with a huff. "When you're all done sippin' tea and wastin' time. I'll be waiting out back."

"My, what an ill-tempered girl. Some days, I wonder if I picked up a nightmare in disguise... Then I remember she's a teenager. And all is explained." The youthful Mariette sighed, a bit ironically, watching sternly as the leather-bound girl disappeared into the kitchen, "But in spite of her unsociable ways, she works hard. I can assure her quality and wealth of knowledge. Depend on her as though she was I. Such is necessary, given that I will not be joining you on this hunt. A pittance, being that a sort of rivalry has been built between me and this unruly, unkillable spirit. But if this situation is as grave as I think, I must look into more pressing matters elsewhere."

She then closed the glass-bored book, handing it to the Handholder//, "I think that is all... May fortunes smile upon you."

...

The various agents would be left to trickle out on their own pace, the two higher-ups sharing a final exchange before the Handholder// would join them.

Keeping to the theme of the olden store, beyond the stove-kitchen was a small barked doorway that popped out into a narrow alleyway between the building complexes. It was absolutely battering now outside, the light downpour now tipped over and turned to a full blown downcast. True to her word, Black Friday// stood in the alleyway idly as she waited for the others. Covered in bundles, her hood was placed over her head and she was staring out at the blooming stars. These outer districts were much more calm than the centralized area. Even given the sounds of thousands of voices echoing distantly in the streets above and below. While there was still many mono-rails and industrialized commotion about, the arcane engines leading blazes, like cascading streaks, through countless glittering neon structures, the sky was much easier to see with the presence of the constantly expanding borders.The smog of the factories located beyond the walls in the -Beyond- can be seen clumping the surrounding mountains like a harsh paint smear. But between the pockets of ashen smoke, orbs of fire can be seen within the encroaching amber darkness of evening peaking over the horizon.

...

 

[Kloudy]

Janus
"God of Doorways"

Janus nodded to Mariette as he exited, choosing to actually use the door this time. As he stepped out into the pouring rain, a swirling portal opened up above his head, identical to the previous one, to shield him from the downpour. To those watching him, they might wonder where he was sending the rain. Finally out of having to listen to the back and forth briefing, Janus had a moment to consider what he'd learnt.

Black Friday was... familiar. Something about her seemed to resonate with Janus, almost as if he had a sense of empathy for her. He'd been exactly like her, although it was questionable as to whether he had actually outgrown it. He was still a very quiet individual after all. The plan itself was yet to be revealed, although he suspected that she would fill them in soon enough. The Nightmare didn't sound particularly dangerous, as tenacious as it seemed. Perhaps Shakespearana's idea would work, even if it needed modification.

If the Nightmare had a host, simply killing it quickly would suffice, and that was something Janus was especially suited to. If the job was a mere assassination, the others would be needed, however, so the creature was either too powerful for Janus alone or simply killing it would not be enough this time. Either way, Janus was fine with whatever plan of action the others decided on. That's what he did: follow orders. Not that he was incapable of being self-sufficient, but he had abstained from leading his own life as of late.

Left to his own devices, he could very possibly cause a lot more damage than was needed on missions, which was why he sought out very specific orders to ensure he didn't stray to a more evil path. It was his way of atonement for his past, of course, but simply wanting to do good wasn't that easy. Old habits die hard and Janus would be hard pressed not to admit the malicious bloodlust that sometimes attempted to reveal itself from within. It was a common thing for those who held power, or for those with upbringings such as his own. The illusion of mastery of all those around you. Why not take what you wanted simply because you could, even if that was a person's life? However, Janus had had an experience on a fateful day all those years ago. It set him on a better course in life, but it was his job to stay on it. And for that, he would need guidance, hence his infallible subservience.

Breaking free from his inner thoughts, Janus moved to the alley in which Black Friday was in. She seemed preoccupied. Taking a spot a respectful distance away from the girl, Janus also leaned against the wall and put his hands in his pockets. The portal above him morphed from its circular shape into a semi-circle so as to not sheer into the alley wall, causing unnecessary damage. If there was one thing Janus did deteste in his amalgamation of emotions, or lack thereof, it was the unnecessary.

Euclid Leaf Idea Prizzy Kriyze Soviet Panda Eshspoyeofdoom

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

Laslo "Atlas" Thorne
Agaso drew a long breath then folded his hands with a resounding clap. "Well, ought to get to it, then." He noted to nobody in particular then pulled his coat off and hanged it over the back of the chair, simultaneously placing his backpack onto the table and drawing out the sheathed "Storm". As he strapped it to his belt he noticed how its power added to the odd atmosphere of the room and smiled internally. "You feel at home here, don't you?" The blade didn't answer to his thoughts, and it wasn't as if he expected it to. He was only just getting excited about finally getting into another Blacklist mission.

Unlike his usual button-up shirt, tie and dress-pants combo, it turned out that Atlas only wore a white wife-beater and a pair of black sweatpants under his blacker cloak. Paired with his uncharacteristically unruly white hair, it certainly seemed like he'd been letting himself go for a couple of days. Still, he stood with the same confidence as ever when he straightened his back and looked to Mariette. "I wouldn't worry, even I managed to get along with people. Probably means she can, too." He offered a reassuring smile, then raised his staff onto his shoulder and started heading the same way the girl had gone. "Ay, come on Princess!" Was heard from the back of store just before the door slammed.

Out in the alleyway it turned cold once more, but it wasn't as if Atlas noticed. His heat field never really and truly ceased working and, though it wasn't as dramatic as during the journey here, the water that hit his skin didn't take long to evaporate. Black Friday and Janus were already there, both with their own unique technique of fending off the downpour. Janus with his portal magic, and Black Friday with her unprecedented inability to give a fuck. Atlas couldn't help but wonder why Janus didn't just get an umbrella. Using spatial-manipulation magic to get out of a bit of rain was the biggest waste of energy he'd ever heard of.

"'Scuse me." He mumbled before producing a cigarette out of his pocket. Every now and again it was a habit he picked up. Used to be a chain smoker up until he joined the blacklist. Its end immediately combusted as soon as he put it in his mouth, then he looked over to Janus and held out the package. "Smoke?" His words were accompanied by a cloud of smoke blown out from between his teeth, parted only by the cigarette at the center of his mouth. After waiting for him to accept, Atlas shoved it back into a pocket and turned to Black Friday. "So, where's this business going down?"

 

[Idea]

Princess Shakesperana
AKA Laura Ojohime

• Laura's POV

• 
  The nightmare caused the dreams to go sour by absorbing the positivity. Well, that was obviously... well... well.... obvious. Why didn't I think of that? I just felt so stupid right now. Then again, the witch could easily have phrased that way better. Did she set me up? No, but it was still her fault I made such a sorry figure. If anything, if the other's were smart, they would naturally realize I had been the smart one, but the way she put it was really misleading. Yeah, nothing to worry about AT ALL! NOPE, NOTHING!
  
  Nevertheless, there was a sharp sensation on my chest when Laura decided to go to witch crying despite my words of comfort. I lowered my cap, forcing a curving of my lips as I was praised for my plan's brilliance, despite a few complaints. Whatever, they just didn't want to admit they were supporting roles, a common misconception. It would be bad characterization for them to be humble enough to just do the groundwork, while I completed our task. It did annoy me a bit though, when the witch introduced her "apprentice", this girl who couldn't even speak right, making me have to contain a chuckle despite the seriousness of the situation. However, it did feel like a bit of a relief. I mean, she didn't really know it would happen, so ther was no reason to thank her, in fact, wasn't helping your teammates just a normal thing? Yep, yes it was. What couldn't go ignored, was how the girl had this idea on her head that a support role like her could take care of the problem by herself. Hah!
  
  As everyone began to leave, I glanced back to Ping one more time, before departing myself. Fortunately for me, my outfit hid the great awkwards strides I needed to even keep up with the others, and too late did I really recall that it was raining. A little poodle was forming on the top of my hat, beneath it being the only part of my hair that wasn't taking a shower and falling over one of the sides of my head. Nevertheless I proceeded as fast as I could towards the teen girl, Valla, hesitating but ultimately deciding against tugging her pants to get her attention. I wasn't that kind of person anymore, I ought to be able to command my place with my voice alone.
  
  "So, Valla, you could do it all by yourself, huh? Well, I can't say I don't understand the sentiment at least... I could do it myself." I said from behind my hair, already covering as much of my face as it could because of the rain. I could hear other people talking, Atlas's voice included. I couldn't help but be a bit curious as to what everyone was talking about, but one conversation at a time. "I mean, I guess I wouldn't mind a being accompanied by a guard, just to keep the wretched villains from attacking me while my back is turned. But as for the enemy itself, I possess some strong magic to seal it right up! What about yourself? What makes you so confident you could take it down all by yourself, when even your teacher got played by it?"
  
  I could have smirked, but such plans were foiled by the intrusion of this bit of slippery mud on which I stepped during one of my strides, causing me to "graciously" slip and start falling towards the mud.
  
  Interacting with Euclid Leaf
  Mentioned: Prizzy Kriyze
  

 

[Euclid Leaf]

Idea Kloudy Soviet Panda Prizzy Kriyze ...

Ping// followed Laura out of the shop, topped now by a heavy yellow rain coat that made her look twice as wide and three times as encumbered. She shifted uncomfortably side to side, much like a penguin behind the others as she bade the witch farewell. She looked for one last ounce of confidence before she closed the latched door behind her. For a glimpse as the door swung shut, she did not see either of them smile. Whatever they spoke of, the Handholder// and the playful organizer of this whole event. It did not seem they wished to be heard by others, fearing its effect on the moral. She buried the bottom half of her face into the scarf bundled inside thick hood. She wanted to help them. But she knew the best thing she could possibly do was to follow along with what was next and not be a burden. Any more.

Outside, Black Friday// watched as the dark smoke streaming out of Atlas' mouth. She huffed herself, though more out of irritation than anything, blowing out a steam of pale breath in the watery air. The vapors warped as though a hand ran through them, the albino girl herself paying no heed to this phenomena.

"Hell if I know. Handholder// has the book. Therefore, he has all the information about this ghost. If I had to guess, it'd be somewhere down in the outlying areas of Chamberlaine. Seems like a good place for a Nightmare like this to hunt. A lot of solitary prey. "

Her brow narrowed as she turned around towards Laura. Though she was speaking to a child, she did not seem to heed her harshness in tone. To her, anyone in the Blacklist was also mature enough to be treated like all the others. Regardless of age.

She smirked at all the brave comments, seeing as the military girl had just been saved by Mule// from a befouled end delivery. Though she chose to ignore that last slip-up. Speaking on it would only add salt to the wound. And she was not the type to kick people when they've barely had a chance to fight back. She was cruel. But not a monster.

"You, alone? I doubt it. A phantom spirit is not some data cloud waiting around for you to just suck up. And good luck conjuring things when it's trashing about. If anything, you're going to need that guard retinue more than anyone else." the pale eyes glared now at the very notion. "And though I learned from her, do not assume that we utilize the same techniques. My teacher is foolish. She believes Nightmares are living beings. So she goes about it with the care and respect of handling another life form. I bet she tried to subdue it through conversion, instead of just ripping it to pieces. Just like it would do to any of us."

Her fingers curled as she looked beyond, "I will not make the same mistakes."

The air seemed to shiver for a moment in light of her swirling of emotions, but just then, another slam of the door signaled the final re-joining member.

"I certainly hope not."" the Handholder// answered, "The last time you were left to your own devices, you almost destroyed that whole orphanage to purge the haunting spirit hiding within. If it was not for the interference of your party, I think you would've done it too." he looked at her hard from across the alleyway, "Just because we do unsightly things, does not mean we should forget about what it is we fight for. If you were actually ready, I don't think the Fortune-Teller// would call all of us. She has utmost faith in you, hence why she put so much responsibility into your hands. Why don't you have faith in her?"

She snarled, turning off to the side. "Sentiments are useless. They will only hamper the end result."

Handholder// sighed; knowing no matter what he chose to say, it would not change the girl's mind. Just like her master, he can only hope. It is much like trying to assimilate a stray animal into a home. She has long gotten used to the feral nature of this unforgiving world. Forcing things will only make her claw and bite even more.

While walking by Janus//, the half-portal over the broody man suddenly collapsed as the veteran held out an umbrella to replace it. In that brief moment, when the spell was cancelled, he would feel his connection to his brain sever. The tension wasn't something completely overwhelming, as to leave him dazed and drooling like a typical concussion effect of a willed cerebral overload. But it was noticeable enough to leave him blinking in confusion at the abrupt halt of all his thoughts. This invisible force seemed to concentrate and trail back to the teal eyes now gazing upon him from underneath the cover of the Handholder//'s tattered cap.

"What a rowdy bunch we have tonight. I think I might have quite the work cut out for me on this mission. What a wicked witch, calling us all out here just to hand the reigns to me." he grinned a bit miserably, "So, if you have any respect for a tired old man. Keep the portals to a minimum, will you? We're already risking detection with our sheer numbers. No need to unnecessarily cast forbidden spells. However..." with that, he handed the dark man an open brochure.

It was a half-folding map of the major 'Tokashira' railway system and their checkpoints. It seemed largely useless, save for the small landscape shot for each of the listed stations, this one, opened specifically to the looming 'Kenway'. Those familiar to the railways, whether from regular use or otherwise, would know it to be located on the other side of the district. As to Vatalla's credit, an outlying sector for the middle-class.

"This will be the exception. I don't fancy walking all the way to our destination. If you can't get us there, specifically, any nearby station is fine." the gruff gentleman smiled, bowing his head, "Will you be so kind?"

Obviously, he did not want Janus// to pop a portal right in the middle of the station. But somewhere in the surrounding shot would be fine and dandy. And nothing big enough to spike frequency levels. Shorter passages would be easier to disguise and pass away as natural currents. Even if it was a pain to open up more than one, this extra precaution was more than necessary. Maegus trackers would be all around the area in a heartbeat if they detected any rift anomalies. And despite how the folks of the Blacklist thought of them, they are reknown to be mage hunters for a good reason. Of course Janus// would already know all of this. But the veteran knew lone wolfs tend not to think of the consequences on a large-scale, so he gave the man a final wink before he allowed him to make the choice.

...

 

[Soviet Panda]

Connor walked out the back with everyone else, opening his umbrella as he did so. He was glad he hadn't brought his heavy, long coat. That wouldn't have kept the rain off him nearly as well as his umbrella. The bottom of his pants were still getting wet, but that would have happened regardless.

He made a point to cough and stare as he passed Atlas. He didn't smoke, and he wasn't a fan of being around people that did. His grandma had smoked, and she could now barely go down the street without having to stop and take a breath. He had learned from her mistakes and made a point to distance himself from such things, though he did drink every now and again when the occasion called for it.

The corners of his mouth just barely turned up as he saw Ping waddling in her rain gear. She reminded him of his niece, the daughter of Jeremy, the second eldest boy. Though their personalities were night and day, the little girl had quite the mouth on her that Ping didn't seem capable of, they looked similar enough. And Connor was always one to want to protect family. Over his relatively short career on the Blacklist, the other members have fallen onto that list. Especially people he had worked with on multiple missions. He hadn't worked much with Ping, but seeing as she literally looked like family, he would no doubt take a fang to the gut for her, then rip the things jaw off and hammer it's own fangs into it's eye sockets.

Then he heard a soft squelching sound as he passed by Black Friday and Princess. Instinctively he reached out and just managed to grab the collar of the small girls outfit before she landed in the mud she had just slipped on. His smile gone, he hoists her back onto her feet, makes sure she was okay with a quick glance, and continued on his way out of the alley.

Finally Handholder came out and filled them in on their plan. When he said that they were going to be teleported in, Connor had to point out the obvious. "I hope you don't expect me to do much without Banger. I left it in my apartment, so I'll be a bit to get there, and longer if you take Doorways with you. Unless you want me and Kingfisher to just be a distraction. Then just go on without us. We'll come up with something to get the Maegus' attention."

 

[Idea]

Princess Shakesperana
AKA Laura Ojohime

• Laura's POV

• 
  "That's true, I suppose. I must wonder though, if such victims would be the most ripe. If it truly feeds on positive emotions on dreamers, then I'd suppose victims who are happier than the solitary would make for a better meal. Yet, if it was me, I would have gone to a hospital. People in commas would be difficult to suspect being possessed and certainly a dream of hope from anyone about to be discharged could present itself as a rather attractive apple for the beast." I responded to Valla's, AKA Black Friday's comments about the evil creature's location. While I appreciated her not holding back because of my age, her lack of manners was disgraceful. We were blacklists, but that was no excuse to handle problems and words with such a lack of grace. Ironically though, these thoughts did not prevent me from falling into a poodle of mud, but rather Mule did. I could have chocked from the abruptness with which the collar of my jacket was pulled, and used to lift me back to my feet. I coughed a bit, grasping air, while the man simply walked away unthanked. I would have to rectify this at some point, but more importanly, something in Friday's little rant ignited a little something in me. A little something called rage.
  
  "What did you say?! Me, needing the most guarding, pff! I'll have you know I've been a black list for two years now, and I've been in my fair share of solo missions..." Realizing the vulgar vocabulary I was using, I cleared my throat to clam down a little." That I would indeed required more protection than maybe a little faithful pup, that's as far from the truth, as fooly as one could be."
  
  Yet I could not proceed any further and it didn't seem like Friday cared either, as Handholder approach us and began talking to her. I listened carefully to what was spoken, but not interrupting nor commenting further.
  
  interacting with : Euclid Leaf
  Mentions: Soviet Panda
  

 

[Kloudy]

Janus
"God of Doorways"

Janus nodded to Handholder as he was given his instructions, looking over the map he had been given. Supposing it was close by, and it would have to be if they expected much from Janus, then the picture provided would suffice for transit. In the surrounding shot a side entrance to a restroom stood out to him, not because of any unusual significance, but mainly because it housed a door.

"This will do."

There was a nearby side entrance to another building in the alley, which would expedite the entrance portal. Taking the map with him, Janus walked over to the door whilst focusing on the picture intently, laying a hand on the handle as he got there. There was nothing inherently different occurring with the door as he did so and all seemed fairly normal as Janus spent a moment fixated on the image before him. After what he deemed to be enough time, he looked back up at the others with his usual expressionless gaze and stepped away from the door.

"It's ready."

Euclid Leaf Soviet Panda Idea Prizzy Kriyze

 

[Eshspoyeofdoom]

STEVEN WILLIAMSON
|KINGFISHER|
​

The tea was strange...to say the least. It seemed to have an effect on Steven as he glanced around the shop, inspecting the strange, little objects as he passed by them. Maybe it was his kidney again, reacting weirdly to the exotic tea he had just drank.

Bit by bit, the drowned out voices trickled out of the shop as Steven was left alone to inspect a neglected snow globe, left on a dust covered shelf. He picked it up as gave it a shake before watching the little white bits sink to the bottom.

He might have been watching it for just a few seconds or maybe a few minutes, but something began tugging at Steven's distracted mind. It was like when he was having a bad night, a fear or danger was just within range or something that was too close for comfort. This time, it was quiet...too quiet. As the eerie silence set it, he whipped his head around. Nobody, nothing. Just an empty store and a door left slightly ajar.

He quietly scurried out of the store and blended with the group. Just in time for Janus// to open his portal. He gave quick glances to the newcomers. A girl and an older man stood in front of him.

Maybe it was just him but, the air felt tense. Another mission, yes, but this time in a group. He doesn't usually operate in anything more than a pair or three. Steven shook his arms and cracked his neck. He closed his eyes, took a breath and lifted his face to the sky.

It had been raining the entire time and he had only noticed it now. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. It must've been the damn tea.

Euclid Leaf , Soviet Panda , Prizzy Kriyze , Kloudy , Idea