Fantasy The Order of Seven - closed for now

[Cashi]

- Krishna -​

The dismissal of their assembled party was abrupt enough that Krishna was momentarily at a loss as to what to do. He cast about the canopied space, watching Thaddeus and Maggie leave with some trepidation. He was still unsure what the conclusion was on how they would place security on the prima donna, and he still had questions and hypotheses he wished to present to the team while they were still together.
However, as all present seemed inclined to disperse, and some seemed inclined to purge the headquarters wine cellars, Krishna relented that the meeting had been adjourned and that he must find somewhere else to be.
Sleep was out of the question: for one, it was night time and he now found it made more sense to sleep during the day. For another, his mind was awhirl with theories and ideas, each new slice of information filling in bits of the big picture, like a jigsaw puzzle where some of the key pieces were frustratingly missing.
Krishna glanced to Lilith to garner from her face any inkling of her thoughts on the murder, the automaton, or their task force of novice detectives. After watching her for a moment, her face schooled into a mask of well-hidden emotions, Krishna leaned forward to address her.
"Ms. Beaumont--ah, thank you for the tea--I am impressed with your performance this evening. When you have some time, I must ask--oh, only if such a request is acceptable to you--that you show me how you turn into a...er, a bat so easily."
Again, that temperate, shy smile with lowered lashes.
"I'm still a bit hopeless at this vampire business."
Krishna faced Bryony, feeling only a little as though he were facing down a very polite, very tame tiger. He accepted the calling card she offered, and admired it momentarily in the glimmering fae lights, noting with approval the neat spacing and font that was easy on the eyes. As good as any well-crafted business card--but for some reason he found he expected no less.
"An utmost pleasure to be introduced into your acquaintance, Lady Byng. I do not have much to offer, but if I may be of assistance to you in any way please allow me the honour."
With that he stood and gave her nod, then nodded to Lilith as well, with a murmured "by your leave," to them both. Then he strode out from under the canopy and towards a pair of large double doors on the East side of the chateau.
He knew how he would occupy the remainder of his time this evening.

“Your left side is wide open, Mr. Jameson,” Amelia grunted, as she lashed out with the longer end of her staff, knocking Krishna off balance. She took a swift step under his guard then dropped to the floor.
“And this,” a kick at his ankles that had him toppling to the ground, supernatural grace be damned, “is called Sweeping the Leg.”
Amelia stood, sweaty, but a firm grin fixed upon her face. She offered Krishna her hand where he lay on the floor, head back against the ground, staring at the ceiling.
"I don't believe that that's a proper sparring move, let alone a proper term."
He sighed, one hand on his chest and the other coming out to rest next to him, a dagger in each fist.
“I’m never going to get the hang of this.”
Amelia nudged his shin with the steel toe of her boot, her braid falling over one shoulder as she then leaned over him, the wisps of hair that had come free clinging to her damp neck.
“You’ll never get the hang of it if you give up. Come on.”
Krishna gripped her wrapped hand and was hauled to his feet. He straightened his shirt and brushed a bit of straw from his shoulder, passed his daggers to one hand, and used the other to push his thick hair from his face.
Amelia leaned on her staff, then said, “Get some water, Jameson. We’ll take a half hour break. After that, I expect to run you through your footwork. It’s sloppy.”
Krishna huffed out a quiet laugh. “You don’t hold back.”
Amelia waved a tired hand over her shoulder as she walked away.
“You’re a vampire, Jameson. It’s not training if I hold back.”
With that, she let the door close behind her, and Krishna was alone. He half-limped to the bench against one wall, then sat slowly, leaving his daggers next to him and leaning back against the cool limestone wall.
What a time to be...well, not alive. He thought.

((@ anyone who would like to join Krishna in the training hall))

Mentions: SilverFlight BELIAL.
Interactions: Dominaiscna Epiphany

 

[idalie]

Clémentine d'Avignon​

As the American began the night, he ended it with a glass in his hand. The very nature of it made Clem cover her mouth with a small laugh, it was not as if the locals were any better. However, his inebriated attack on Michael was of a personal grudge, passionate yet foolhardy and entirely on brand. Nevertheless, Joseph resumed his stumbling with a surprisingly coherent speech before collapsing back into his seat without air nor grace to aid him down.

Turning her head to Gabriel’s mention, D’Avignon nodded sincerely. “I can only hope it would help until the killer is caught, it would be wise to keep any prospective victims under a careful watch. After all, is it not our first priority to protect?”
Folding her hands into her lap, she sighed through her nose in a short huff. It would be some busy weeks ahead and at last, returned the heiress to her second home that was headquarters. In truth it was a happy thing to stay the night in another place, the family home often too nostalgic or quiet to be put at ease. HQ eliminated those fears in an easy, communal nature with its fair share of hard work; the sort that let you avoid heavy thoughts.

Thaddeus brought the discussion to a close, gathering up the plates and cups as the team began to head off in their various directions for the night. Margaret, among them, showing a level of worry for the worst of the intoxicated pair whilst wishing goodnight.

“Bonne nuit! Look after yourself now, sleep well -” Clem stood, pushing against the arms of the chair to stand and returning it to the table. Her gaze drifting again to the American as Maggie had wished, only hoping that the wine hadn’t upset him as much to make him sick. Red wine was hard to get out of carpets, a lesson from experience.

Approaching Joseph, Clémentine tapped the fellow on his shoulder and motioned her head inside of the warmer building. “Let’s go, Monsieur Jospeh was it? You Yanks are a little unconventional with names, know that? I bet it’s exotic.” She winked amusingly, keeping the upbeat nature of her already optimistic demeanour. “No fighting it, orders from the top after all.” The french of her accent lisping words with a selection of heavy-handed pronunciation.

Offering an open palm, she wondered if this was payment for leaving Margaret earlier that evening among the company of strangers (as lovely as the strangers seemed, bar the ill-mannered demon). Even so, Clem had plans to corner her at breakfast and drag her dear cousin to catch up in private. Thoughts and theories could change, one just had to sleep on it.

“If you wanted, we could grab you some water from the kitchens, hm? I’m sure the cooks can spare something to eat, I don’t know about you but I’m ravenous when I drink - not so good on the waist, and still plenty to forget the day.”

BELIAL. SilverFlight ADarkAndStormyNight MechanicalSnake

 

[MechanicalSnake]

Surprisingly enough, once the invenstigation relevant discussion was over, Gabriel had no idea what to do with himself. The night was too young to go to sleep, but it was a little bit too late to try and find a night club that would suit him. Regular pubs would probably be closing soon and he didn't feel like visiting one alone, anyway. The lab seemed marginally tempting, but the tone in which Margaret announced she could be found there, if necessary, clearly expressed the wish to be left alone, and if their previous interactions were anything to go by, neither of them would enjoy each other's company. More wine was always a good choice, except there was very little of it left in the bottle. The American must have claimed it when Gabriel wasn't looking, and... he must have claimed more than that, because there was no way in Hell he could have gotten this drunk on half a bottle.

Gabriel quickly emptied the last few drops into his glass, which he then tipped into his mouth, not quite satisfied. There was a certain restlessness sitting in his chest, perhaps because the discussion had ended so abruptly and his mind hadn't had a chance to rest, the wheels still turning like a well-oiled machine. If he were to be honest, he wished to be right. Not because he couldn't accept other theories than his own, but because the case was right within his area of expertise and there would hardly be a better chance to prove his worth than this. When it came to supernatural matters, everyone else was better suited to deal with those, especially because Gabriel hadn't even believed in anything that couldn't be explained by science prior to his first contact with the Order. Similarly, the others seemed to be reluctant or unable to understand scientific advances. He could certainly benefit from proving to them that his knowledge was of value.

With slight bemusement, he watched Clémentine, on Margaret's order, fuss about Joseph. Luckily, Gabriel himself hadn't even started yet and could hold his liquer better than that. From where he stood, the scene looked thoroughly awkward, and he had to wonder if they would have behaved similarly, if it had been him to get wasted. Something was telling him that thanks to being American, Joseph was given a certain leeway. No need to hold the man up to British standards, right? In any case, Clementine's attempt to entice Joseph to a glass of water and something to eat served as an inspiration. "You know what else is in the kitchen?" he smirked as he passed the pair. "More wine. I suppose I'll meet you there... Those I won't meet, enjoy your evening."

Followed by the pitter patter of Sir William's paws, Gabriel made his way into the castle and followed his nose, making a couple of wrong turns before arriving in the kitchen. A couple of surprises awaited him there: first of all, Thaddeus was engaged in the process of cooking some vegetables, blind to everything else, an expression of absolute delight on his face. It was an oddity for a man to enjoy such a mundane activity, which even women who could afford it typically hired help for; the fact that Tadd was a werewolf made it truly bizzare. And along with him, there was a strange creature Gabriel hadn't encountered before and failed to learn about during his training. It reminded him of a leprechaun, except it didn't have ginger hair or beard; not that he'd ever seen a leprechaun, but there had been a picture of one in a book of celtic fairy tales father had given him when he was a child. Apparently, they were in the habit of hiding pots of gold at the end of rainbows. He hadn't believed it as a boy; now it seemed remotely possible.

"Good evening," he said quickly, wiping the surprise off his face. "I was wondering if you would have something to eat and a bowl of water for my ferret?" He smiled at Thaddeus, briefly peeking into the pot before beginning to explore the shelves. "Don't let me disturb you. I'm just here for the wine. You seem terribly familiar with the kitchen, I take it you have been in the French headquarters before... Would you know where I might find some?"

 

[Naberius]

Michael O'Sullivan

Michael watched with a cocky grin as the rather tipsy man stood from his seat and tried to throw insults at him. The attempt was laughable at best, and in fact he found himself laughing in his face as he scrambled for the chair again.

"You might want to take a seat, drunkard, before you make a poor decision that you will deeply regret. Before you try to actually fight me....Well, not really fight...more like ineffectual, angry flailing. Either way, at least we agree on one point. The sooner I get to be rid of your foul stench and idiocy, the better."

It appeared everything was winding down for the night. Their discussion had brought up several interesting points and theories, even he had to admit that as loathe as he was to do so. The most painful thing in the world aside from silver, at least as far as he was concerned, was giving these people credit for good work. But he had to, unfortunately. He wasn't in the habit of boldly denying what was in front of him as many humans did. He watched the others disperse, going their separate ways and doing whatever it is that humans and the other supernatural individuals were want to do in their free time. Some headed off in the direction of the kitchen and dining areas, which meant he was going to stay far away from those for the time being. Others went towards the training spaces, and seeing as he himself already possessed centuries of training, he felt it needless to fool with for the moment. He didn't want to mingle at all with the scum he was forced to work with, though when he thought about it the lab did sound fun. Maybe he could find some way to make silver bombs, or something else fun to cause as much chaos as possible even if it was just for their enemies.

"As riveting as your company is, I believe I shall busy myself with being as far away from you people, and I use the word lightly, for the remainder of the evening."

He took his leave, knowing that for the most part, they couldn't care less. And to be fair, neither did he. He made his way towards the laboratory area, fully intending to try and throw something together to cause as much havoc as he could manage. Which usually would be a great deal indeed, but thanks to the pesky Order and their binding, and that gods damned wizard and his Oaths, it was significantly less. However, this did not dissuade him, and in fact it only made him more determined to stir things up as much as he could. Entering, however, he noticed that one of the mortals had seen fit to take residence here. Evidently he had neglected to hear her claim she was going to be here or else he would have chosen a different destination. Either way, he was already here, and decided to just start grabbing things at random. It's not like he personally had to worry about hurting himself, though he did have to watch out for anything containing silver, or anything that might cause a poisonous cloud or large explosion. He still couldn't hurt the other, more fragile individuals residing in the building.

SilverFlight Cashi laceanddoodles BELIAL. MechanicalSnake ADarkAndStormyNight idalie Dominaiscna

 

[BELIAL.]

Margaret Bowles

Location	Paris HQ - Alchemy/Chem Lab
Company	Michael
Tags	Naberius

She could only watch with a grimace as Michael began to simply grab things within the laboratory, no doubt seconds away from knocking into noxious chemicals or splashing a sliver of lithium into a pool of water. Her fingers dug into the counter-top, idly watching and waiting for something near catastrophic to occur in his experiments. The chemist in her could only gasp, nearly clutching her own heart. Although she hadn't any kind of professional schooling in chemistry, in the mad scramble within three years of waiting and looking for some lead in finding her husband, she'd torn through his books, lesson notes and old academia from his school days. Nathaniel had been a brilliant chemist, and a knowledgeable man in general. She almost regretted not asking him to teach her earlier, before he ruined their family, and his own life.

Seeing Michael made Maggie, a normally withdrawn woman, at least want to be helpful. Being in the lab made her a tad more enjoyable, and at least a lot less irritable around others. Pure idiocy would not be tolerated, but she wasn't beyond giving a pointer or two (and showing off her own skills). Hopefully the demon hadn't been living under a rock in hell for two long, and was at least passable with attempting compositions.

It was a useful skill to have, and she was sure that the Order would benefit from as many minds coming together to come up with ideas. Although she abhorred the idea of anything demonic, and the Catholic in her winced to be in the vicinity of him (as well as the majority of her rational senses), she had made an oath to the Order. No time like the present than to confront her newfound appreciation for patience. It chilled her skin and made her head pound, but at least she could let it out with a few controlled explosions.

"I do hope you know what you're doing Mr. O'Sullivan," Maggie said with a wince, raising an eyebrow in his direction. "I recognize your... fleshy skin may be expendable, but I can promise that the rest of us don't have that luxury." Ever curious, she slowly made her way over, arms crossed over the apron she had thrown in whilst in the lab.

"Chemistry has become a sort of... outlet for me, in recent years. There is something so gratifying about creating, while within the laws of nature, that calms the nerves. The fact that there is so much left to be explored... well, part of me wishes that I could have your immortality to witness all of that."

She took a breath, the wicked ghost of a smile on her lips. "But where's the fun of flirting with a bit of death and metals if you can't nearly die from it?"

 

[Naberius]

For his part, Michael barely took notice of the human. Or, to be more realistic, chose not to do so as a conscious decision. He knew she was there, he just didn't acknowledge that fact until she in turn made it absolutely impossible to ignore. He gathered his arms full of random assorted chemicals, compounds, and non-pure metals and substances and dumped them unceremoniously onto a work table. Several of the small vials of things cracked slightly but thankfully nothing truly toxic or dangerous on its own. For the moment, anyway.

"Calm yourself fleshy, I know enough to keep from blowing you or anyone else up. On accident, anyway. I've been around for every major advancement your kind has ever made for the past few centuries. Sure, I didn't pay attention to them all, or in fact very many, but still."

It was when she mentioned demonic immortality and the advances of the future that he actually turned and looked at her for the first time. He raised an eyebrow, smirking in his devilish way.

"You should enjoy what 'advancements' your kind has made thus far, I don't foresee your kind lasting more than another thousand years. But if you're truly. Interested in seeing it, you could feed yourself to a rabid vampire and get turned. At least you wouldn't be so... Disgustingly human."

BELIAL.

 

[SilverFlight]

Thaddeus heard the footsteps before Gabriel walked in, he had just finished adding the last seasoning and looked pleased, if a little sheepish. He offered Gabriel the plate he had just served for himself, there was plenty left, and went to fetch a small saucer of water for Gabriel's pet. After this was done he opened a trap door in the floor and disappeared into it, returning with a pitcher of fine-smelling, fruity wine, setting it on the table before the mechanist. Only then did he serve his own portion of food.

"I hope you don't mind, there isn't any meat, I can't eat it, or, avoiding it helps with control. I have heard the wine is good, the Order supply officer has a deal with a local vineyard...though, I tend to avoid that too."

His gaze found the ground, as if it were an old friend. "I must seem quite boring to you mustn't I? I'm sorry for that."
He couldn't help but study the ferret Gabriel had brought, the interconnected parts, man-made limbs and spine. It was exquisitely crafted. A small smile and a touch of wonder appeared on his face. He was obviously very curious.

MechanicalSnake ( idalie ADarkAndStormyNight maybe?)

 

[MechanicalSnake]

Somewhat surprised, Gabriel accepted the plate. He hadn't expected to get a late dinner, but as he saw it materialize in front of him, he realized he was in fact rather hungry. "Thank you. I really couldn't care less whether there is meat or not," he smiled, taking in the pleasant aroma. "I will eat anything, as long as I don't have to cook it myself." Sir William Florence seemed tired enough not to be too nosy in the kitchen and he eventually settled down, sticking his nose in the water. He began to lap at it rather carelessly, stepping in the saucer with his front paws and spilling left and right. Hopefully the leprechaun wouldn't get pissed off.

With a grateful smile, he poured himself a glass of wine, filling it nearly to the brim, because why hold back. "And you don't need to apologize for not drinking either. I admit it is somewhat inconvenient, because when one drinks alone, it makes one look like a terrible drunk, but I have no worries there, since Joseph has already earned that title!"

Was Thaddeus boring? Gabriel couldn't decide based solely on his reluctance to get drunk, when there was a good reason for it. Going a little bit wild on a Friday night, for a werewolf, could easily get out of control, as far as he understood. Was that perhaps why the man seemed so shy, even fearful all the time? Constantly having to worry that you might do something you'd hate yourself for, once back within your senses, would take its toll on a person. It made him wish he had known Thaddeus before, as a human, so that he could make a comparison.

"If anything, I think you are too kind for the standards of this job," he spoke openly, because it sounded much less offensive than "timid", and he wasn't out to offend the one person who had enough friendliness in him to treat even Gabriel in a friendly manner. "But someone has to be, right? With so many completely different individuals on the team..."

 

[SilverFlight]

Thaddeus considered the words carefully, taking their meaning.
"I do have my doubts about being here." He admitted sheepishly. "But...thank you for your faith in me." He seemed pleased.
"You don't have to worry about cooking with me around, I'm always happy to do it."
MechanicalSnake

Thaddeus had a hard time sleeping that night. The pieces to the puzzle kept dashing about in his head. What would they find tomorrow he wondered?

*~*~*

It was daytime, and the city streets bustled with activity. There were booksellers and grocers, carts filled with fruits and nuts or fine cloth. There were paper boys calling out the headline for the day: a new murder at a salon in Montmartre. Thaddeus lead the way, guided by a map drawn for them, and he kept to the shaded parts of the street to better suit their vampire colleagues. They were in the lower part of the city now, Notre Dame keeping a silent vigil in the background above the trees lining the river Seine. The inventor's workshop was in the attic of an elegant apartment complex, complete with intricate plaster mouldings and wrought iron balcony railings. Thaddeus stopped at the entrance, waiting for everyone to catch up. There was a passageway for carriages that lead from the street into an inner courtyard. The gates were shut up tight and ivy obscured the view inside, but Thaddeus could hear no sound from within.

After their morning trip to the market Thaddeus felt much refreshed. There was a small notice on the door in French, and Thaddeus knew enough of the language to know it was a notice left by the police, the top floors had restricted access due to an investigation. Outside the doors of the building there was a solitary officer standing watch. He caught sight of the order members and waved them over.
"We 'ave cleared the building for you today." He said dutifully. "Zere is not a soul in here, so you may explore as you see fit." He held up two pieces of paper, names carefully transcribed on each.
"Some members of your group requested a list of names from us last night, one of all the important inventors come to Paris during this time, and the other for all the famous vocal performers. Here zey are. An interesting point," the man added finally, as he handed the lists to their respective investigators, "is zat most of the well known inventors and singers...will be at the Opera Garnier for the exhibition tonight."
Thaddeus glanced at Gabriel and Krishna. "That is interesting indeed."

Spoiler: Small clue

On the ground by the carriage entrance something glints in the sunlight pouring through the leaves of the trees. It is a tiny cam, not unlike the ones found in the automatons on display last night, it is a valuable piece and not likely to be lost by its owner in any casual way.

Epiphany Naberius Cashi MechanicalSnake BELIAL. laceanddoodles Dominaiscna idalie ADarkAndStormyNight

 

[Dominaiscna]

Lilith Beaumont

With one hand gently rested on Krishna's arm, Lilith quietly followed the rest of the group towards their destination: the inventor's workshop. Since it was still early in the day, she had her parasol open to shade both her and her fellow vampire. Her face was cast into darkness by the shadow of her bonnet, and any expression was masked by a black, lace veil. Despite being covered from head to toe, the vampire still appreciated their resident werewolf's choice of sticking to the shadier parts of the streets.

Upon their arrival at the carriage entrance, she quietly watched the exchange with the lone guardsman. While she listened, Lilith's gaze flickered over the facade of the building before them, sparkling slightly with intrigue. So far, the team had uncovered many bits in pieces in their investigation, yet these were not enough to come to any solid conclusion. There were so many questions... many loose threads and trails that seemed to be important to the case at hand...yet it was at this moment impossible to conclude anything with the information they had. However, the vampire was confident that they would find at least something of significance or use within the inventor's workshop..

While she quietly mulled over the theories about the case, a tiny glint of light in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Her eyes snapped to the object of interest, and a beat after, her body turned to follow her gaze. "I must trouble you for a moment, Mr. Jameson," she murmured quietly to her partner before passing him her parasol. With gentle but swift steps, she approached the carriage entrance and, with her skirts in one hand, Lilith knelt down and carefully picked up the small, metal object. It appeared to be a rather intricate gear of some sort. Carefully holding it between two gloved fingers, she lifted it to the light for a moment, studying it with narrowed eyes.

"Perhaps this is something of interest?" Lilith spoke up, voice just loud enough for the group of order members to hear. She quickly returned to her colleagues and held out the small cam in the palm of her hand, for anyone to pick up and inspect. "This resembles gear pieces from the automatons we saw last night. I would imagine this is quite valuable...so it does beg the question how it was so carelessly lost in such a place?"

Mentions: Cashi

 

[MechanicalSnake]

Without a doubt, most people would say that feeling excited about a murder investigation was wrong on multiple levels, but Gabriel couldn't help himself. He had been looking forward to visiting this workshop so much that if the hot Asian guy from before hadn't actually been Michael, he would still rather have come here than gone on a date. Alright, he would have probably made sure the young man had his address before leaving, but still... The suspense was literally killing him, for there was no telling what they would discover. He allowed himself to hope that the workshop would be cluttered with other, similar pieces of art, or perhaps that there would be plans, drawings and notes to find - designs that hadn't been brought to life yet - for him to peruse. As much as he hated to admit it, there could be something for Gabriel to learn from this. But it was also quite possible that the opposite was true. Maybe what they'd find would be the experiments of a much less competent scientist, botched attempts and tiny clockwork toys. Maybe the muse wasn't the child of this particular inventor at all - a loud, alarming thought that had formed in his mind during the night.

Eager to be let in as soon as possible, Gabriel quickly thanked the policemen for the list and was about to fold it so as to put it in his pocket for later, when the man's last utterance hit him like a ton of bricks. "Most of them...?" Alarmed, he exchanged a quick glance with Thaddeus, confident that the werewolf was similarly displeased about these news. "That can't be good. Perhaps we should ask the police for assistance and place guards inside the opera house?" Unfolding his paper again, Gabriel counted the names on his piece of paper, peeking over Krisha's shoulder at the list of singers. If more than ten of the names attended, they found themselves in a problematic situation, because even if they distributed the possible victims and murderers evenly among themselves, there would always be someone left unguarded. Perhaps if they could get a head start and eliminate some of the inventors beforehand, although...

Deep in thought, he hardly noticed that Lilith had gone off exploring, but the object she had brought back was, indeed, of interest. "May I?" he inquired, reaching for the cam carefully. It really could have come from any mechanism, there was no telling what it had been a part of, but the material was expensive and the work on par with what he'd seen last night. "I don't suppose anyone in their right mind would be carrying those in their pockets. It is too soon to make assumptions, since we haven't seen the inside, but I guess the killer might have stolen something from the workshop and dropped this as he left in a hurry. We should make sure to check if the place has been searched or robbed." Gabriel half expected that someone - no, he was not looking at Maggie at all - would suggest the cam had fallen out of the mechanical muse, on one of her night quests for vocal chords.

BELIAL. SilverFlight Dominaiscna

 

[ADarkAndStormyNight]

Joseph
​

The rest of the night was something of a blur to Joseph. He blamed it mostly on the alcohol- he had severely underestimated the power of French wine. He could only feel embarrassed the morning after, while he had sobered up. In reality, he had far more than the two glasses of red wine they saw him drink, at the meeting, but those glasses were the tipping point between coherency and drunkenness.

Joseph pretty much blacked out after he was left in Clem's care- which, while he saw the necessity of it, he was quite embarrassed by. Something about the way Maggie pawned him off made him feel like a child. Granted, he was probably a little too much trouble to be left alone. For Joseph to make an incredibly poor first impression was a rule, and not an exception. A rule which Joseph disliked, and yet always seemed to fall right back into.

The last thing he remembered of the night was slipping into the kitchen with the french girl and the werewolf for a quick bite, and a glass of water- quick planning for the inevitable hangover he'd feel the next morning. Clem was a sight for sore eyes- her overwhelming optimism and happiness not only put away Joseph's stress of the previous evening, but allowed him to forgive the fact he was being babysat. And seeing her after dealing with a group of people taking themselves just a little too seriously helped him ease back into life.

That temporary refresh was immediately overcome by a skull splitting headache the next morning. It appears that, despite the precautions taken the night before, Joseph had fell into drunkenness' far more cruel cousin- the hangover. In fact, Joseph didn't even know where he was the morning after. He patted his coat down for a little something he had to help out with that, to discover he was stark naked. Great. Hopefully that detail happened AFTER I got to my room. He rolled out of bed, and stumbled over to his coat, laying on his trunk. From one of it's many pockets, he retrieved a bit of the dog that bit him, and gulped it down quickly. He checked out the window, and his senses were flooded with sunlight, echoing in his school. He drew the curtains back with haste. The brightness of the sun outside was an unfortunate shock to him, and it occurred to Joseph that he unfortunately had missed an invitation to the marketplace with his new coworkers.

Joseph quickly washed his face and hair, and buttoned up his shirt. He denied the protection of a coat, instead slipping his trusty weapons into his trouser's deep pockets, and rejoined society quickly, deciding to simply meet his compatriots at the crime scene, stopping only to get himself an apple and a cup of coffee, to ease any lasting effects of the hangover.

When he arrived at the apartment where the late inventor used to reside, when he was in better relations with life- it wasn't much to behold on the outside to be completely honest. Joseph didn't know exactly why, but he expected something a little bit more charming. Though, reality told him that an inventor most likely was not the recipient of any significant amount of money, to provide himself with interesting enough lodging.

Joseph rejoined the rest of the party, trying to slip in without making his previous absence too noticeable. He was much better off at this point, his hangover treating him surprisingly well.

 

[Naberius]

Aside from the few interactions he was forced to endure during the previous night, Michael actually managed some peace and quiet at one point. He locked himself in the room that had been provided to him... Until he was rudely disturbed to be dragged away on yet another 'investigation' the following morning. He grew increasingly tired of this already, and it was but the second day. Their defacto leader had some sort of map and lead them through the streets, Michael decided the best way to be the leaast helpful and annoy them most would be to conduct the entire trip, and investigation, in his cat form as long as he could get away with. He plodded along next to the group, acting much like any random stray cat waiting for scraps would.

They approached their destination, a rather upscale housing unit for several dozen humans at the very least. He shuddered, not liking the idea of so many in one place but at least they would have the building to themselves, if what the uniformed worm had to say was to be believed. While the others preoccupied themselves with the guard and a few sheets of paper, he slipped past the guard and waited on the other side, laying down and twirling his tail in sheer abject boredom. He already wanted to leave but had to obey the oaths he had given. Besides, he might be able to have a little fun while they were here.

I hope I at least manage to entertain myself a little, or this whole trip will have been a complete waste for me. Though I suppose if we manage to track down the murder, I could have all kinds of fun since it falls within the parameters of both the bindings and the oaths to... Dispatch them at my leisure.

SilverFlight Cashi laceanddoodles BELIAL. MechanicalSnake ADarkAndStormyNight idalie Dominaiscna

 

[Cashi]

- Krishna -​

The sun was particularly brutal that unforgiving morning as Krishna rose from the dark, canopied bed. Sleep, he had learned, was not a boon granted to those who walked the night--the closest thing he got to sleep was almost like daydreaming, an alert trance that he chose to devolve into when the sun was unbearable and there was no present work.
Thaddeus had invited them out for a morning stroll through the central market, and while Krishna had had no desire to meander under the hot sun, he had been curious about the little café he'd passed by shortly after settling into the organisations lodgings for him.
He drew back the thick, burgundy curtains surrounding his borrowed four-poster bed, and stepped neatly onto the Persian rug. The slice of sunshine that intruded into his bed chamber through the crack in the blackout curtains razed his eyes, forcing him to look away. He wasted no time in dressing, choosing a black three-piece-suit paired with a grey shirt and black cravate. He wrapped a gold-patterned black kashmiri scarf around his neck that covered his nose and mouth, slid on his black leather gloves, and plucked up his dark blue sunglasses as he went out the door.

The walk to the inventor's workshop from the little café was not brief and, barring present company, was entirely unpleasant. The sun made Krishna slightly nauseous, and his stomach had begun to cramp after the training session the night before--a clear indication that he would soon need his monthly quota of donated blood. The small coffee he'd had earlier did little to appease the hunger he could feel sizzling through him.
Later, he thought.
With Ms. Beaumont on his arm, sharing with him her mercifully light-cancelling parasol, the journey was tolerable so long as Krishna did not dwell too long on the discomfort. He'd had to remove his top hat to fit under the parasol. When she murmured her apologies and passed him the parasol, Krishna dutifully held it aloft and waited for her to return under it. It appeared she had spotted something of curiosity by the gate.
The officer handed Krishna a list of singers that would be in attendance at the event that evening, and Krishna felt the dread settle on him at the task of managing so many people. Perhaps their best course of action would be to plant watchers around the room, at various levels, and to signal to the rest of the party should a person of interest disappear through any doors, or should any suspicious activities catch their eye.
As Gabriel peered over his shoulder, Krishna stepped closer so he might see the list better, similarly glancing over at the roll call of names handed to Gabriel.
"Gracious," he murmured, "this is quite an attendance."
It was at this point that Mr. Lassiter joined their entourage. Krishna had not had the pleasure of interacting with him much since they had met the other night, so he gave a cursory nod of his head and shuffled to one side to make room for the man.
"Mr. Lassiter, a good morning to you. We have the run of the upper apartments for investigation." He gestured to where Lilith held the cam and Gabriel had drifted to join her and wonder at the item discovered. "As you can see, we are already making headway with our detective work."

Mentions: SilverFlight MechanicalSnake
Interactions: Dominaiscna ADarkAndStormyNight

 

[Vacuum]

Morvan
The natural grease on Morvan's skin felt like a stain this morning. That's what led to him walking through Paris rubbing at his face. His handkerchief felt like it was just spreading the grease around, so he swapped to the hand to pant method. He wore a casual breton outfit, a brown base with red accents. Perhaps the brown will do better at hiding the grease. Morvan't grease levels were quite normal, but his mind seemed to believe otherwise. He stopped in a small store to purchase another kerchief to sponge his skin with. Settling on a lovely pale green shade with marine imagry along the trim.

As he approached the workshop, his skin feeling adequately grease-free, Morvan noticed a group of individuals standing ouitside. His vision was watery, but a quick smack to his own temple brought him back out of water. "How likely" Morvan murmured, a smile coming to his lips as he saw his fellow members. He though it rather lucky his Kerchief detour set him up to arrive just in time, and purposefully approached the group. He looked around at the air surrounding the members of the order. He thought it seemed to shimmer about them, swirling in odd patterns, Might've just been the heat of the sun though. The group seemed intent to look upon some doo-dad, the significance of which was mostly lost on Morvan. He decided it best to let them work, so he gave those who noticed him looking a lift of his hat, and a small wink.

Mentions: General Group

 

[SilverFlight]

Thaddeus frowned at the very comment that Gabriel had taken issue with.
"Most?" He repeated politely. The policeman nodded.
"Zere are a few others who will not attend, shall I put men to watch zem?"
Thaddeus thought, and with a quick look at Gabriel to confirm, nodded and thanked him. "I would request a detail at the Opera house too, guarding the entrances."
"That has already been arranged."
Thaddeus turned to his companions and added in a low voice: "If our culprit is human, then it is best to let the officers handle it, however, if they are more supernatural in nature, the police may end up encumbering our efforts, best keep them at a distance for now."

The appearance of the new face wasn't unexpected. Thaddeus had been informed of the Breton, and though he seemed a little self-conscious, came across as a polite and perhaps roguishly-friendly sort. Thaddeus smiled and tipped his hat in return.
"Morvan Surcouf I believe. A pleasure." He extended a hand. "Thaddeus Grey. I trust headquarters has informed you of our progress on this case?" If it could be called that. Still, Thaddeus was hopeful that the workshop would fill in the missing pieces.
"A most peculiar affair."

It wasn't long before an officer came out from the building to unlock the gate for them.
"Please have respect for the scene, only touch or move what is absolutely necessary for your investigation, do not break anything or tread on the papers. The room is...quite a mess."

They climbed the staircase slowly, light, marbled stone with a black wrought iron railing. The building was well-kept, if aging a little and Thaddeus scented the daily lives of it's occupants: home made bread, rose perfume, dust from feather pillows, but as they climbed Thaddeus caught the metal tang of copper and brass, the thick scent of industrial glues and the singed smell of soldered metal...there was also an old smell of blood.


The room was on the highest floor, the ceiling in the bent shape of the roof overhead. The door was made of dark wood, and scratched in places, but otherwise there didn't seem to be any sign of a forced entry.
The officer opened the door and let them inside.

The workshop was indeed messy, papers were scattered everywhere, and remnants of failed parts, half-soldered bits of metal, torn blueprints and other items. The walls were bare wood, dark and unpainted and there was a single area rug on the floor, stained with oil from a spilled can. A metal-framed cot sat in the corner, unmade, but ultimately inconspicuous. Though there was a small, decorated box underneath it. A narrow door lead to a second room through which sunlight filtered lazily.

There were a set of completed blueprints on the work bench, placed aside from the general disarray, and open, on the bench as well was a leather bound book.

((The game: There are several things to examine in the room, listed as a set of spoilers. You can look at them all, but please reveal only one IC and let other players reveal some. You can state which one you want to write about on the discord chat in "important messages", to reserve them, but please only do this is you are going to post right away. You can ask as many questions as you like, but I will only be able to answer specific things without giving up the game.))

Spoiler: The Blueprints

They are extremely detailed, and reflect the genius of their maker. Each piece of the Mechanical Muse has been planned out in excruciating detail. Sometimes there are small drawings on the edge of the pages, almost as if a child has been doodling where they shouldn't have been. The stack of these blueprints is quite large. If gone through every piece is there...save the Muse's voice box. On papers scattered about the blueprints are many failed attempts at designing the voice box, some crumpled, some ripped, the frustration is obvious.

Spoiler: The Journal

The leather bound book is a written account of the Muse's construction. The writing at the beginning of the book is neat and clear-minded. It details successes, failures and drawings of new pieces. All of the writing is in French.

The beginning is as follows: "I have been given a position as the lead mechanist for Napoleon's exposition. I cannot describe how thrilled I am. I have been working on the Muse for eight years with little success, and not enough money to bring my dream into reality. Mia lost one of her shoes today, so I have had to buy her a new pair. My opportunity to acquire the new alloy that would withstand the pressure of chest cavity movement is therefore lost. I have made many sacrifices raising my child alone, sometime sit seems I must choose between my dream, and my daughter."

Another passage reads: "I gave little Mia a puzzle box today. Just a crude thing, with a special key. She wears that key around her neck always, and the box contains her greatest treasures. She is so happy with such a simple thing. I love her dearly, but I am saddened by her complete obliviousness to the importance of my work..."

Close to the end of the journal the writing becomes more frenzied. There is mention of the voice box, and hasty but inaccurate drawings.
"...I have only days to deliver a working prototype to the minister of science and technology. I am so close to completing the final piece, but I simply cannot get it to work...I am drawn to my last option like a moth to a flame..."

The next page contained drawings, stunningly accurate depictions of a human voice box, and slowly, the mechanical transformation of it. This final drawing is the mechanism that Gabriel examined within the real Mechanical Muse.

The final entry has text that is scrawled over the page in a shaking hand, large looping letters are stopped and started again, as if the writer is being shaken. What is legible is as follows: "...unspeakable...and now I am paying the price. The door will not hold. I gave up everything to grasp at what I thought was the ultimate treasure, but what I traded I now realize was worth far more. Please dear God forgive me for what I have done...I am sorry..." The pen trails off the page.

Spoiler: The Box Under the Bed

It looks like a brush box or a jewelry box, with an intricate mechanism designed for a very special key. There is a pattern on the top of the box in cut wood. The pattern resembles a flying bird.

If one tries to break the box open one would find that it is reinforced with metal and quite heavy, and trying to open it without the key might lead to irreparable damage to the contents.

Spoiler: The Second Room

This room is painted, white walls with pink and blue flowers on vines trialing up the sides. The bed is small but lavish, with down pillows and lace-trimmed bed sheets. There is a rack of pretty dresses made for a young woman and on the desk by the bed there is a sketched portrait of two people: an aging man with messy hair, a mustache and glasses, and a little girl with flowing locks of light hair. The girl, if imagined older, bears an uncanny resemblance to the Mechanical Muse.
The window at the head of the bed is broken, but there are no glass shards on the floor, only a few pieces on the sill outside of the room.

Spoiler: The Rug

The rug is imported and not uncommon in Paris. Strangely, there are faint traces of blood, a lot of blood, that someone has tried to clean away. The scattered objects are clear signs of a struggle, and as the inventor was murdered in this room, it is expected, however, the inventor was strangled to death, with no clear evidence of any other wounds.
There is a corner of the rug hidden under the bed that has been upturned, like someone has moved the rug recently.

If the rug is brought up to reveal the floor beneath one will find something very peculiar:
A circle, intricately drawn in blood. To someone knowledgeable, this circle is a dark magic circle made to amplify resentful energy of spirits and ghosts, it powers them to perform feats beyond their original ability but beyond that, it's effect can be strengthened by blood sacrifice, meaning if the target of the circle kills, they become stronger.

If examined by a vampire or a werewolf, it can be determined that the blood used to make the circle, is not the same as the blood that soaked the carpet, and the blood from the circle is older.

Epiphany Naberius Cashi MechanicalSnake laceanddoodles Dominaiscna ADarkAndStormyNight Vacuum The Gunrunner

 

[Cashi]

- Krishna -​

The apartments were more more lavish than Krishna had expected for a recently deceased inventor: the stairs were polished marble, the ceiling vaulted high overhead, and the general ambiance delivered a state of living that was more upscale then he had imagined. Then again, Krishna did not personally know many inventors, so perhaps this was an err in character on his part. He had expected narrow wooden steps, a pokey hall, and a chimney that smoked at best, but the inventor's accommodation appeared to be very comfortable.
Once inside, he deigned to remove his wide brimmed hat and tug his scarf downward, as was courteous, though he kept his dark shades on and avoided the windows inconspicuously.

The inventor's rooms were on the very top floor, and though Krishna kept out a discerning eye for any sign of forced entry, there seemed to be none. He pushed open the dark wood for the rest of their merry band of murder investigators, and allowed people to pass through before following suit.

The mess struck Krishna. So familiar it was, like stepping into Nate's old offices by the Thames--sans smell of literal death (Krishna hesitated and took another whiff. Alright, the smell of death was present.) The papers scattered around the room, he knew, would seem like the result of a whirling dervish to outsiders but he was almost certain that had the inventor been living he would have known exactly where to find what he needed; order in his chaos.
Krishna stepped lightly around tipped piles of books and discarded blueprints, examining the room with his eagle-like sight, plucking bits of information out of common or out-of-place objects, theories already awhirl in his mind.

Krishna turned slowly on his heel, taking in the room, and his eyes fell on the open doorway to his left. The rays of purifying sunlight told him that this was not the best place for a-- a ...vampire... to explore, but he felt drawn to the room, and his insatiable curiosity won the bout of logical fisticuffs between his ego and superego. He fixed his gloves, then put his hat back into place, pulling it low over his eyes. A soft tap on Lilith's shoulder with a nod to the door to indicate where he was headed, then he walked to the doorway and peered in.
The sunlight made him wince, forcing him to enter the room with two long strides and back into a corner that was slightly shadier.
This was a young girl's room, if Krishna was not mistaken. The light caught the reflection of glass on a miniature portrait and Krishna picked it up to look. His eyes widened and a faint chill went up his spine at the uncanny resemblance of the clockwork Muse staring back at him with soft, human eyes. Over the top of the frame he spied the broken window, and distractedly replaced the picture to take a step closer.
Sunlight pooled swiftly against an exposed bit of cheekbone and Krishna hissed in a breath whilst recoiling, his hand flying to his cheek. He clenched his teeth in pain, fangs scraping his lower lip almost hard enough to break skin. It took a moment to compose himself, but once he did Krishna looked out of the window again, albeit more carefully, to see what had fallen below.

 

[SilverFlight]

Thaddeus followed the vampire into the second room, just in time to see him shy away from the sunlight.
"Be careful!" Thaddeus said urgently, his hand outstretched, then he seemed to remember himself and shrunk back, slipping along the edge of the room to stand by the window as well and look down.

The shards that would have been all the way on the ground had been cleaned away, though there was something glinting in the grass.
"No human would have survived a jump like that. And there wasn't a record of a body, or anything else at the bottom of this window." He observed quietly.
A slight movement caught his eye. There was a figure standing in the courtyard, under a tree, silent and robed all in black. They were looking up at the window, and the two men staring out from it.

((smol post to find out what's at the bottom of the window))

Cashi ( Dominaiscna ?)

 

[The Gunrunner]

Adrianus van de Beenhouwer ​

"Vampire, vampire, werewolf, demon? Human, human- ugh." Adrianus is walking through the street, the sun casting a shadow off the brim of his flat cap. He sighs, blowing a cloud of smoke over the papers in his hand; "God-damned vampires." He lowers the papers from his view, checking the street names and running the directions through his head; the officer had told him his 'friends' were going to the apartment complex, and Adrianus is keen to finally end his absence from their team. A day or two late, he muses while wondering what excuse to use, though perhaps one would not be necessary; his dislike of vampires is plain enough - he is the 'butcher of Estertown,' after all. Still, he has no intentions to thin the ice he is on with the order. Sadly, that would mean passable pleasantries with the suckermouths. Again, he sighs, equally adverse to playing nice as he is to the growing awkwardness of his absence. He shakes his head, looking up and following the next appropriate sign. He decided against taking a carriage - Partially because of the day, primarily to extend his time to think; he is behind on the investigation, and had to take care to play 'catch-up' with the rest of the task force. His hand was a blur as the officer recited what he knew, pages from his notebook flying to the next and the next. He has no doubt it is not as thorough as the prior investigation was, though it will be enough to ensure he can contribute upon arrival. Another turn. He sighs, another cloud of smoke from his cigarette, "Maybe the demon will make good company. Demons are always entertaining." And deadly. Another turn.

The apartment building is well made, with iron balcony railings and a gated courtyard. Adrianus stuffs his papers away inside a plain dark-red coat, stepping into the courtyard and approaching the building - An officer approaches him from the steps, hand raised "Ze property is closed for inspection." Adrianus opens his mouth to speak, before the next sentence stuns him into momentary silence, "And if it were not, you do not belong here." Adrianus blinks, his mouth twisting into a frown, "I am with the investigatio-" the officer cuts him off, gesturing to the clothes - Adrianus is plainly dressed, as he often is, in a manner quite indistinguishable from a commoner - "You do not belong." Silence, but for a few moments. Adrianus pulls the cigarette from his mouth, dropping it to the ground and crushing it under a boot. "Frenchman, when those men inside leave the building, they will tell you I am with them - and then I will slap you, for being an idiot." The officer frowns, placing a hand on his club, "Zat is enough. Leave." Adrianus snorts, and spits at the man's feet, "Misschien een pak slaag voor een goede maatregel." He turns, beginning his walk out of the courtyard - he would wait for the others by the carriage entrance.

Halfway to the gate, he stops and squints his eyes; a figure stands in the yard, under a tree, staring into one of the upper-floor windows. Adrianus follows the gaze, squinting away the sunlight - Thaddeus and Krishna are immediately visible, that is whom he surmises to be such. Strange, and suspicious. Though the robe was suspicious enough. His eyes analyze the man, neither overly certain nor doubtful of foul intent; the figure could, after all, merely be a suspiciously dressed bystander. Regardless, should he be noticed he would tell the stranger to remain in place for questions.
SilverFlight Cashi ( Dominaiscna ?)

 

[Vacuum]

Morvan
Thaddeus, who seemed to be serving as a leader of sorts, offered his hand to Morvan. He clasped it with an even grip, and felt a flow of trepidation pass through him. It clearly jolted from the Thaddeus's hand. Unable to make proper sense of the sensation, Morvan tried to center himself with visual observation. "You have wonderful hair monsieur Grey." With another glance around him, Morvan gleamed "In fact you all look splendid today!" Then the question Thaddeus had asked hit Morvan's brain with urgent energy. Morvan was stricken with flash of bewilderment, swiftly answering "Th- the case! Yes! I was informed adequately." He gave a quick nod after finishing to appear confident. Hoping he had not made a poor impression, Morvan stepped back and focused on taking in building before them. It reminded Morvan of a small government building. Showing a lack of cohesion with it's surrounding brethren, and an aversion to originality. Something simple to look at. Morvan's heart began to slow.

Morvan's nerves had calmed completely by the time he was following the group upstairs to the Inventor's rooms. He ducked through the doorway, walking in on extreme disorder. The room made him feel uncomfortable as his vision was overloaded by the disorder the inventor lived in. Perhaps it was a ransacking that had caused this mess. Either way Morvan needed something to focus on, as his mind was flowing too fast. The area rug on the floor had a lovely symmetrical patterning. Morvan's mind focused intently on the rug, following it's lovely flowered pattern. It seemed like a great loss to Morvan that such a fantastic work had been stained with oil, destroying the artist's creation. He tried to imagine what the rug was like in mint condition, and slowly Morvan noticed another sort of stain. It looked to him like blood had soaked this carpet at some point. it was very well cleaned out, only some few visual traces remained. Perhaps the base of the rug was harder to wash. Morvan carefully lifted the edge of the rug to observe the bottom, and noticed a familiar symbol. His mind clouded with a dark stoic storm as he thought of what must have transpired here. With a vacantly angry face Morvan glanced about the room. Krishna and Thaddeus had left to another room, and appeared preoccupied. "Ms. Beaumont" he strained to say in a neutral tone "I require your skills, if you would be so kind." Taking a deep breath, he thought of sunshine glinting off calm waters, and a storm slowly clearing.

Interacted: SilverFlight , Dominaiscna , General Group
Mentioned: SilverFlight , Cashi

 

[ADarkAndStormyNight]

Joseph
​

The party had now begun to the investigating of a variety of different tools and objects scattered about the inventors mess of a workshop- and what a mess it was. Joseph hadn't expected it to be clean, but he did expect someone who worked in a field that required, as his party members made sure to remind him on the first night, such extreme precision, to at least have something resembling an amateur organization system. Instead... well, it reminded Joseph of his own room, and that was not something he was proud of.

Joseph's eye was drawn above the noise of clutter, and his gaze focused upon a small, leather bound notebook, sitting upon the bench. He retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket, and carefully flipped through the pages, making sure not to damage the pages or binding at all. He read through a good deal of the journal, from it's first update, and watched the inventor's slow retreat into madness.

Now, Joseph was only vaguely familiar with the language of romance, having only begun to study it recently, under the Marquis, so when he began to read the inventors... how shall we put it? More, imaginative hand writing, he presumed it to be his own lack of expertise with the language setting him back. However, on closer inspection, this was not an error originating on Joseph's side, but instead the inventor. Scribbles constituted letters, and he had to guess what each letter was supposed to be, and how they tied together.

"...unspeakable...and now I am paying the price. The door will not hold. I gave up everything to grasp at what I thought was the ultimate treasure, but what I traded I now realize was worth far more. Please dear God forgive me for what I have done...I am sorry..."

That was the final entry. The journal primarily consisted of updates about his life, and a desperate search for the solution to the Muse, ending with a vivid and lifelike voicebox- the one seen inside her mechanical chest. However, what was most intriguing to Joseph was the mention of the inventor's daughter, Mia, whom he had given a treasure box, and a key she had worn around her neck. Mia vanished from the narrative, and he knew, from Gabriel, that the key was found in the muse.

The presumption was horrific, but Joseph knew, from his childhood, that horrific things were more than common place. The journal was more vivid, more horrific than any penny dreadful he had read. If his guess on Mia was correct, then they had a substantial case to make, and an impressive lead to follow. Joseph felt his hand shaking, so he set the book down, on the bench from where it came.

Joseph walked around, looking for the officer that had let them in, and when he had spotted the man, he began to speak to him.

"Je suis désolé de vous déranger, monsieur, mais ce journal mentionne que l'inventeur avait une fille, nommée Mia. Que savez-vous d'elle?" Joseph spoke, in less than perfect French.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interactions:
SilverFlight (Officer), Journal.

(The google translate French is canonical, I swear!)

 

[MechanicalSnake]

Sometimes, Gabriel completely forgot that there were people in the world, who believed that vampires, werewolves or fairies were the stuff of myths and children‘s fairytals, or that ghosts were the product of false, yet so very human hopes in the existence of life after death. It was Tadd‘s remark that reminded him of the fact that regular police officers might not be beneficial. Still, they needed all the eyes they could get in the Opera, even if the patrols indeed were to do nothing but guard the entrances… and, from experience, windows.

Meanwhile, a large part of their group had assembled, but a number of the people and humanoid creatures he remembered from last night were missing. Instead of the women he‘d been expecting to see, a man whose dossier Gabriel didn‘t remember headed towards Thaddeus, not wasting a moment before openly complimenting his hair. Half amused, half consumed by jealousy, since there had been times when people complimented his own hair, but he couldn‘t remember when was the last time that happened, Gabriel recited a line of a French poem in a mockingly elated tone: „O fleece, that down the neck waves to the nape! O curls!“ With a smirk, he shrugged and followed the officer and the much faster Krishna inside.

The inventor‘s abode, with its aging luxury, reminded Gabriel of his own home in England – well kept, spacious, comfortable, in a good part of town, perhaps even a little on the expensive side, but not quite what an aristocrat would be proud of. The smell of various metals, rubber and glue made him feel right at home, adding spring to his step, right until the moment when he actually entered the workshop and living quarters in one and noticed the overall disarray. Robbery, then? He had suspected as much. Even in a fit of rage, any half-decent inventor wouldn‘t treat precious materials, blueprints and parts with such disrespect, especially not if he didn‘t have the riches to warrant such a sacrilage. And what was up with that cot? Did the guy keep a child in here, or was that for one of his inventions?

While others filtered into the back room, likely to get a complete picture of the murder scene, Gabriel didn‘t hesistate and literally threw himself at the blueprints, piling them all on the bench – the larger stack as well as the crumpled or otherwise damaged papers scattered haphazardly on the floor. Having seen the insides of the Mechanical Muse, Gabriel could immediately place each blueprint, stopping only shortly to marvel at the precision, Every now and then, he noticed some scribblings in the corners, which could perhaps be attributed to the mysterious child, and finally he arrived to the rejected voice box designs. Except none of them was as elaborate… or even vaguely similar to the wonder he had seen earlier.

„Well, unsurprisingly perhaps, our man most likely did not invent the voice box,“ he announced to whoever was listening – Tadd, any of the vampires, or maybe the new guy. „Or… not alone.“ Carefully, he folded the blueprints and put them into his bag. If Sir William were to walk, they‘d fit perfectly. He was going to have great fun with those later, applying the ideas in some of his inventions back in London. By the time he was finished, Joseph had already managed to peruse the small, leather bound book that had also been on the bench, and dropped it without comment, heading downstairs.

„Hey, what was in there?“ Gabriel called after him, and when there was no immediate reply, he opened the notebook himself. And truly, it was like finding a gold mine - a step-by-step diary of creating a masterpiece; an inventor‘s dream. However, it changed into a nightmare really fast. Even before things got really weird, Gabriel already felt existential dread reading through the notes. Eight years? Eight years spent on a single invention? God, if he began immediately and worked on something for so long, he would be thirty-thee by the time he finished; the age Jesus died and every gay man with a bit of ego should follow in his footsteps, because beyond that age, there was nothing but slow descent into obscurity. Simply horrible!

And look, the child made a random appearance, so she was real. Entries about her mixed with those about the Muse, forming one big twisted family chronicle. They even shared the key, which now needed to be retrieved as soon as possible. He skipped a few pages, eager to inspect the pictures he had briefly sighted before, if slightly ashamed for the professional curiosity that made him less horrified than he probably should be, given the final entry. It was scary that to a certain extent, he could understand the man and his mindless quest for perfection, in which he was willing to sacrifice everything for the ultimate knowledge. It was an ancient trope, that some might consider a cliché, but a true inventor knew that for progress, sacrifices had to be placed on the altar of science. But here, everything was telling him that the sacrifice had been the inventor‘s daughter. Gabriel had no children and there wouldn‘t be any in his future either, which made the concept unimaginable, but despite that…

„Well, there goes my theory...“ he said lightly, trying to get rid of the tension, as he walked into the second room, where Krishna and Taddeus were, for some unfanthomable reason, staring out of the window. „Whatever happened to this overly ambicious guy, he had brought it upon himself. And I have the nagging feeling he made a pact with someone, or something, which cost him his daughter, not just his life.“

 

[Dominaiscna]

Lilith Beaumont

Lilith followed along with the rest of the group as they ascended the stairs into the building. Upon reaching the highest floor where the workshop was located, Lilith took a moment to lift the front portion of her veil over her bonnet, so that it no longer obscured her face. There was fortunately barely any direct sunlight bouncing around the main room, so the vampire was free to do her work without much discomfort. Upon fixing her veil, Lilith turned her dark gaze to the messy workshop, beholding it in all its chaotic glory. The air was slightly musty, and there was a faint tangy smell of blood. A small frown pulled at the corner of her lips as she noted the scattering of torn papers, discarded metal and rubbish that lay over all surfaces in the room. The vampire favored order and tidiness, and put in a good amount of effort in making sure her own living spaces were clean and neat at all times. As such, she was somewhat horrified with the idea of working or living in such a messy and chaotic environment.

A tap on Lilith's shoulder brought her attention to Krishna, who after a brief nod made his way towards a second room - a room that seemed to glow faintly of sunlight. She found it odd that of everything he could investigate, her fellow vampire was so very eager to explore the brightest room in the place. Nevertheless, she trailed behind him, curious as to what had drawn him in. While Krishna investigated, Lilith silently patrolled the darker sides of the room, studying every aspect of it with great interest. The room appeared to have been the bedroom of a small little girl. Its walls were decorated prettily with vines and pink and blue flowers. There was a small but lavish bed, trimmed with lace and stacked with down pillows. A rack with pretty dresses stood nearby - no doubt belonging to the little girl who once lived in the room. Compared to the decrepit condition of the workshop, the bedroom was delicate and pleasant. Lilith figured that the little girl - whom she assumed was the Inventor's child - had been greatly favored and pampered by her father.

The vampire was returning to the main room when she heard someone call out to her. Her head snapped in the direction of the voice and she spied one of the new additions to their crew, a human by the name of Morvan Surcouf - if she had remembered correctly from the dossiers. Her eyes narrowed slightly at his odd expression...the man appeared to be somewhat troubled or displeased, for reasons she did not know. "Of course, Mr. Surcouf, I would be delighted to help," she responded to him, quietly approaching her fellow Order Member. "What exactly do you require of me..." Lilith continued, but her voiced trailed off when she laid her eyes upon the object of interest : a large and rather worn rug with beautiful and intricate designs. Morvan had one side of the rug peeled away from the floor, to reveal a circle carefully drawn in blood.

"Well well well, what do we have here..?" The vampire murmured quietly, eyes widening slightly as she studied the situation before her. She had some basic knowledge on dark magic and understood that the circle was involved in some form of ritual. Judging by the faint splatters of blood on the rug, she figured that some poor soul had been killed in this very spot, potentially as some sort of sacrifice to do with the circle of blood. The blood splatters most likely did not belong to the Inventor as he had been strangled to death, and there were no reports of any other physical wounds on his corpse. Lilith had a faint idea as to who might have been murder for the ritual... but there was not enough evidence to confirm identities just yet.

Upon closer examination, Lilith came away with several important pieces of information. "There were at least two people involved in whatever had transpired here," she began, eyes flickering to Morvan to observe his reaction. "The blood staining the carpet and the blood used to draw the circle do not belong to the same person. Furthermore, the latter is older than the former, so one could assume the circle of blood had been drawn and prepared before some other person's blood was spilled here." Having finished speaking, the vampire stood up, carefully brushing her skirts down with gloved hands.

"Pray tell, what do you make of all of this, Mr. Surcouf?"

Mentions: Cashi
Interactions: Vacuum

 

[Vacuum]

Morvan Surcouf
Stormy waves crashed against Morvan's mind, and attempts to break through the storm were failing. As he moved out of Lilith's way, all his senses opened fully overloading his mind's preoccupation. He saw the others in the room carefully sifting through the dead man's clutter. One he believed to be Gabriel had gracefully sorted through the blueprints, leaving them in a sorted stack. The quieter man who had been paging through the diary walked past him, possibly to find clues outside of the flat. Morvan listened to the house. The door behind him swinging softly on it's hinges. The slow creaks plucked out by the bodies above. He felt the house as an entire entity. The calm air like a stale breath in it's wooden lungs.

Morvan's trance faded when Lilith told him the information she could gather. He considered why the blood on the carpet was from a different source. While Morvan had come to know of these evil focus symbols, he didn't go so far as learning how they might be used. This was a clear gap in knowledge that must be addressed. Perhaps the blood from what Morvan assumed was a sacrifice would disrupt the integrity of the symbols' formation.

Processing Lilith's formality made Morvan realize how his actions must have looked to those around him. No, perhaps she was just a peticularily formal person. "Ah, but the question at hand." Morvan laughed to himself, finding the drifting thoughts amusing. "Well Lili- oh, I mean Ms. Beau-" apologetically he turned to face her, saying "I never know how formal to be with you people, my mistake if this is a bad thing to say." With a slight frown Morvan sighed "Analyzation has never been a power of mine, but-" a sudden pause. He took a moment to compose his thoughts while his eyes unfocused. Springing back, "This man could not create a voice box, so perhaps he used some device to capture a spirit or ghost he had pulled here" then his frown deepened. "I did not see this creature in motion, do you believe a binding or deal could have taken place?" he asked Lilith his eyes squinting a bit in concentration. The squint had Morvan notice the light freckles on Lilith's nose, and he couldn't help but fall back into an old repeating thought. "Why are humans so chaotic?". Snapping out of it, he gave his full attention back to Ms. Beaumont.

Interacted: Dominaiscna
Mentioned: MechanicalSnake ADarkAndStormyNight

 

[Naberius]

Michael O'Sullivan

Michael followed the others up, taking in the surroundings. If he actually cared to take note of such things, he'd have considered the place at least passably well decorated and posh. Bouncing up the stairs in his cat form, he made his way to the scene they were meant to investigate. Seems someone had been very busy here. And speaking of busy...by the time he padded into the room, the others had already split off to start the investigation. The interesting things were mostly already taken, and he walked around the room still in his cat form looking under things. Perhaps someone had dropped something and it ended up under a dresser or a table or the bed...Or, that rather intricately made box might just be what they were looking for. Walking closer, he slid under the bed to look at it from up close, taking in the details from all angles. It was rather impressively made, for humans anyway, and quite heavy. He pushed against it to try and move it, but in his cat form he couldn't get quite the amount of leverage he needed. Though eventually, it moved once he braced himself and pushed against it, sliding it out from under the cot and into the open. He extracted himself as well, looking at the top and seeing the symbol and the locking mechanism. He'd never be able to pick the lock on something like this, he doubted much of anyone could. He was no master locksmith but it might just take one to do so if the person trying to open it didn't have the right key. There was no magic signature on it, or the contents inside so there was that, at least.

He stood on his hind legs, and straightened out his spin, and started shifting back into his normal humanoid meat suit that he wore around then, stretching a little once he had assumed it entirely. bending, he picked up the box and took a look at it again, not finding any silver and thus no danger to himself, he examined the lock more but didn't find a weakness. It was heavier than would be normal for just a plain wooden box, most likely reinforced with iron or steel or some other metal. He looked around, and watched their de facto leader walk into the next room, and so he followed. He and one of the others, one of the pair of leeches that were a part of their crew, were glancing out a window at something. Approaching, he held out the box.

"Here you are, oh fearless leader. Found an odd box, no trace of magic. Ornate, most likely for storing valuables. Odd symbol on the top, you or one of the other fleshies might know what it is though. I certainly don't. No silver, but it's certainly heavy enough that it ius most likely reinforced by some kind of metal. My guess would be iron or steel, most probably steel considering this seems to be a more high end homestead and the resident that stayed here seems to have had enough mortal currency to at least afford decent things. The lock is too intricate to be picked, at least by myself. It would take someone of truly remarkable skill to do so, best bet would be to find the key that matches the lock. As difficult as that might prove to be. Trying to smash it would likely just destroy whatever is inside, not that I would care either way but my Oaths demand I share as much as I can simply because if I don't, one of you squishy fleshbags might get hurt and I'm unfortunately not allowed to let you get hurt."


SilverFlight Cashi MechanicalSnake ADarkAndStormyNight Dominaiscna Vacuum The Gunrunner Lioness075