Fantasy What Came Through the Rift - A modern fantasy RP

[Mykinkaiser]

RECAP
CURRENT EVENTS

- The Reclaimers have bombed the mansion of prominent philanthropist Selias Carthrange
​

Format

Feel free to format your posts how you like, but make sure to include tags for whoever you're characters interacting with and the location​

 

[Mykinkaiser]

• The News
• The Rift District
• The Docks

• Hello listeners and welcome back to the Edgewater Daily Bulletin. The date is currently September 1st, 2042 and it is 54 degrees and rainy out.
  
  Our main story of the day is yesterday's bombing that has left the city reeling. The attack took place late last night in the Rift District, at the residence of Selias Carthrange, a prominent figure in local politics. His home was destroyed when a van laden with explosives ran down his gate and barreled partway through his front door before detonating. Selias and his family are currently in critical condition as a result.
  
  This is the latest of a series of attacks claimed by the terrorist organization known as The Reclaimers aimed at nonhumans. Selias himself was a succubus who had come through the Rift two decades ago. It is believed he was targeted due to his work to ease human-nonhuman relations, with many seeing him as one of the foremost figures in bringing us to where we are now.
  
  We have reached out to R.I.C.T. regarding this incident but they have yet to release an official statement regarding the suspects, though they have announced that they will be increasing officer presence in the streets to safeguard our city against further action by the Reclaimers. Our thoughts and prayers are with the Carthranges and the victims of previous attacks.
  
  
• 
  Morna was seething. She had just learned that there had been another attack by those damned Reclaimers. She hadn't especially liked Selias, and she had liked his methods even less. How could he just ignore the humans' hatred and violence to offer them the hand of friendship? The foolishness of it had baffled her. Still, she realized that he had the best intentions at heart, even if he was horribly misguided, and because of that it enraged her to see him attacked like this.
  
  To her this was another example of humans reveling in savagery and bloodlust. It was almost enough to push her over the edge, for her to give in to their ways and to fight fire with fire. almost. But she was better than them, more controlled than them. She would bide her time and gather knowledge and then she would leave this accursed place and go home. She had kept the Order secret for this long, now was not the time to undo all of her hard work.
  
  That being said, it wasn't as if she had no tools at her disposal. Snapping her fingers she summoned one of the lower ranking members of the Order who was working as her attendant. "Fetch our members more suited to dealing with unpleasant people," she commanded, her gaze steely and her voice almost quivering with anger. There would be retribution coming.
  
  
• 
  The Reclaimers were getting really annoying. At least, that's what Shin thought. Because of them and their attacks there had been more R.I.C.T. officers around on the streets recently. Now, Shin wasn't especially scared of them, but the definitely were a killjoy. He couldn't pick a fight without them catching wind and coming running. Then they'd deploy their dampeners which pissed him off as well. And lastly, which was their worst transgression in his mind, they weren't even fun to fight. Everything they did was by the book and boring. They made fighting, which was supposed to be fun, feel more like a chore most of the time.
  
  Due to this, Shin had been lazing around the warehouse for the past few days, working out and playing video games mainly. However, the lack of legit action was starting to grate on him. He wanted to do something flashy, something fun. He wanted to do something to stick it to those R.I.C.T. assholes. Only problem was, he didn't quite know what yet. There was no point in bombing anywhere, the Reclaimers were already doing it and it was no fun to begin with. They could start a turf war with one of the other gangs around, but R.I.C.T. would likely break it up, and tear gas wasn't fun. They could organize a drag race, but they'd done that last week and Shin's pride was still smarting. That bastard had 100% cheated and everyone had conveniently missed it. Bottom line was, Shin was restless but didn't know what to do about it. Fortunately, he had other people to think about it for him.
  
  "Yo," he called from where he was sitting upside down in an old, saggy armchair, "Anybody got any ideas for something to do? I'm gonna fuckin die of boredom over here at this rate."

 

[SadSnake]

Viviane opened her eyes. She was in a jungle, snoozing in a tree.. or.. was she? She remembered quite clearly to have went to sleep somewhere else. As soon as those thought crossed her mind, she woke up. She was in a rather large room, with overgrown foliage all around her. Her room. The order of the lost didn't want her to sleep around in the wilderness with those dastardly reclaimers around- So they picked a special room, just for her. They even had a long, tall pole for her to coill her tail around.

Despite all her magic talent, she never really found memories of the old place she used to live in, only small glimpses from the times where she was just a baby. She let out a small hiss and glanced around her room, littered with the scrolls she used for physical arrays. Her door was open just a crack.. she felt like such an insomniac. Why did she tire of counting sheep when she was far too tired to fall asleep?

She shook those lyrics out her head and made herself stand tall. She needed to be proud! Anytime, they'd be back to these promised lands, and she could find the jungle, her parents, the other lamias...maybe even more powerful wizards, and better ways to train. In a nutshell, everything she wanted. And it could happen anytime, so she needed to be ready. She slithered out of her room, looking around for any other members of the order of the lost. To her, they were almost her family- Well, they were. She just had another one out there.

Her thoughts were interrupted by one of the lower members of the order. Nodding slowly as she heard his bickering, making sure to stand extra tall to be higher than him. Apparently, her help was needed by Morna. While she didn't know her as much as her mentor, 25 years in the order definitively got her some time around the fae. The lamia took on the most serious expression she could as she entered the room. "What'sss going on, Morna?" She had made sure to lower herself so they were of equal height.
Mykinkaiser

 

[Sybil]

• Nami Domsen, The Docks
• Slate Hardgriff, Downtown, R.I.C.T. HQ

• 
  Bombs. Bombs were always weird to Nami, at least she thought as she dragged the razor across the table, sipping on a handle of whiskey. She was hard-pressed to pay full attention to the news since it only offered buzz kill stories, but some people clearly like that shit she thought. The table soon held a long line of coke, easily two feet with a quarter inch thickness, to which the red-skinned Oni just grinned at their work before pushing her head down and inhaling as she ran her nose down the line that was straighter than her sexuality wasn’t. Once finished her head snapped up, the yellow eyes dilating before settling slightly as her jaw hung open to process whether the current high she was developing was good or painful. Soon her mouth settled on a smile, the large woman pushing the table away from her booth seat only to viciously headbutt another table that wasn’t her’s and causing it to crack in half.
  
  “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! FUCK THAT IS GOOD SHIT!” All in all? A normal day for the gang’s towering Oni. She ruffled her own hair, getting ready to work out to see how far she could push her heart, only to hear Shin speak up over the monotone newscaster on the TV across the room.
  
  “We could rob a liquor store like old times! That shit was fun, or maybe break into someone’s house and scare the shit out of ‘em? OOOO maybe we could go visit the shitty corners looking for something with a tight ass to be bought for an hour?” The Oni rattled off, more suggesting what they might do today rather than what Shin might find enjoyable. “.... speaking of we need more chicks. My eyes get no rest lookin at this damn sausage party, we only got a few butch no names and then the cute succubus. Do the cute human girls not like fun??”
  
  Seems she is rambling again thanks to her accelerated heart rate.
  
  
  Directly interacts: Mykinkaiser
  Mentions: somber
• 
  Stack to following forms, pick up and straighten the stack against the desk, staple the related forms, and now sort into the filing cabinet. Stack, straighten, staple, sort. The four S’s as Slate would call it in paperwork for any law-abiding law-enforcing organization. A form for everything, whether it be a burden or a blessing, which meant organizing and tidying up such an archive would need precision. Thankfully Slate’s retrofitted body was made for precision despite its looks, though it was more believable at times when he began working and people could see his rhythm. Just as anytime he worked in the office, he kept his gas mask attachment off to give people at least somewhat of a face to relate to it being relatively human-like... if you squinted across the room. A face is a face, but mechanical gears and small plates can’t compare to the flesh everyone had covering theirs.
  Stack. Straighten. Staple. Sort.
  ...
  After a bit of finishing paperwork for their investigation of the bombing, the mechanized face showed signs of relief, now leaning back into their chair and stared at the ceiling. How could an officer not try to de-stress whenever a few moments they could in times like these. So much work to be done, so many leads to try to nail down, so many papers needing to be filled out.
  Stack, straighten, staple, sort huh?
  
  With his work done for now, he would look around, trying to see if any other fellow officer or maybe the old Fae had decided to move about. Knowing the Chief he probably was making speech’s or trying to deal with the situation. I’m sure he will cook things off...
  
  Directly interacts: No one
  Indirectly mentions: Croaker Renny somber

 

[Nenma Takashi]

Downtown Liquor Store

"This is the latest attack claimed by the terrorists organization The Reclaimers..." The tv behind the old man went on ignored by him and his customer who purchased two bottles of some cheap booze. Muteki hated the way it tasted but it was better than nothing she was running dry on cash and needed more. Looking at the old man as he bagged her drinks it'd be an easy robbary especially with her skill set. She could empty the register and be gone before cops were any the wiser. Yet she couldn't not with the baggage she had with her that very same baggage was watching the news very intrigued. A ghost girl named Yumi who was bound to Muteki and made being a do whatever ya want type of person hard for Muteki. "Here you are have a nice day." The old man handed Muteki the bagged liquor she took it and nodded. "Yea you too." She walked out of the store her ghost friend close behind. "Can you believe it another attack isn't it just awful people would do such a thing why can't the humans and nonhumans simply get along?" Muteki ignored Yumi and stood bored at a street corner drinking her terrible booze. Yumi crossed her arms as she hovered near Muteki pouting that she was ignored. Muteki hoped she could somehow get Yumi to rob someone otherwise she might have to get....a job!!!!

 

[Zamasu]

Timothy Garfield

The yesterday's attack was reported to the public, and even the Torga Detective Agency got a word about it. From the main office is "Torga" himself, watching news on TV while slurping into some hot instant ramen. Along with his are his associates Gummo, the assistant, and Gotti, the secretary. Both of them are named after the songs of rapper 6ix9ine. Its too bad he won't make a concert here in Edgewater, but pretty much he won't be able to get out so there's that. After the report has been said, Timothy finishes up his noodles and begins to speak to his friends. "Reclaimers, such a dangerous terrorist group. I just don't get why the hell would they be causing a ruckus here in this rather peaceful and weird city." He says with a concerning tone "What a bunch of radical racists."

"Can't say I agree with you, Tim." Gummo replied "Lots of shit has been happening for the past years. I guess R.I.C.T. isn't doing a great job on handling those terrorists." Timothy thought for a moment before saying "I guess you're right. Aren't they supposed to be peacekeepers? I mean they're basically a S.W.A.T. team for non-humans and mages, and yet they couldn't do their job right. I think they should step up a bit." His two friends would nod in agreement. For now, business is slow as usual, and the team is waiting for a client to give the detective a case...so long that it doesn't involve apprehending a dangerous mage or a really strong oni.​

 

[xAlter]

Coriander and Myra Muir​

"That fucking idiot!!!" one enraged Guildmaster of Ouroboros shouted out as a gash appeared into the wall of the office. Growling in frustration and anger, Cor Muir, slumped down into his seat with a displeased noise. "I told him to take our services and not rely on those fucking R.I.C.T twats!! Now look at him!" Resting his head on his desk, Cor simmered down from his enraged state, and looked over the scattered papers strewn throughout his office. Selias was a prominent client and secret supporter of the Ouroboros Guild. On multiple occasions had he come to them to deal with political rivals. Disappearances of his political rivals were not uncommon, but no one could call him out on it. Hearing a knock on his door, Cor looked up. "Come in..."

Coming through the door was his elegant and lovely wife. Smiling to himself, Cor stood and moved around his desk to hug her. "Myra darling, you know I'm working right now. If Selias were to die, we'd lose a good chunk of our funding. I'm just trying to put all this together."

"But you missed dinner last night dear..." she sighed out, burying her face into his chest. "I was so lonely too. You promised we would yesterday. You promised..."

Internally sighing, Cor let go of the hug and brought his forehead to touch hers. "Tomorrow." he said looking into her golden eyes. "Tomorrow we'll eat dinner together. Right now, I need to deal with this attack on Selias." Kissing his wife on her forehead, Cor went back to his desk and sat down. All traces of a loving husband gone, now replaced by the leader of the Ouroboros Guild. "We've received a contract from a friend of Selias to hunt down and kill these Reclaimers. I will be personally leading this mission. Myra, Codename: Equinox, you will be second in command. Find a team and report to Rendezvous Point F. Dismissed."

Saluting, Myra walked out to find K-Squad, a squad that specialized in assassination and killing. "And so the darkness tightens its hold on this land..."

 

[Croaker]

• R.I.C.T. Chief Officer Pascal Krisven
• High Priest Bast Kanaan

• 
  
  
  Sovereign cries from birds shattered the air, declaring the time to be morning. It was a pleasant tune, though distant at the moment. Pascal surveyed the skies and nearby trees. Not a bird was in sight. Likely they had dispersed when the smell of chemical smoke refused to do so. The air was miasmic and pungent at this point.
  Pascal grimaced and stared at the horizon. Mornings were wonderful, the Chief decided. It was too bad that they came at such an inconvenient time of day. Mornings proceeded long and terrible nights here in Edgewater, nights where ruffians and rouges had their fun. It was left to people like the Chief to clean up after them and return order to the waking world.
  
  The ground around the wreckage of the explosion was charred and blackened, the driveway to the Carthrange estate cracked and crumbled. Pascal turned his steely gaze from the center of the incident to the surrounding plots of the immaculate neighborhood. This was the wealthy side of the Rift District. Trimmed trees, manicured lawns, and large manors contrasted the blast site. It was jarring. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Had he not been burdened with smelling it, one could almost pretend a terrorist bombing hadn’t taken place at all. He imagined that’s what most would be doing.
  Across the street, Pascal took notice of a woman standing at her house’s window, watching the R.I.C.T. officers as they conducted their business. Around the perimeter of the scene, the local news team had their reporter covering the incident. Pascal grumbled under his breath, “Fucking vultures.”
  Spinning on the heels of his newly shined dress shoes, Pascal marched over to the forensics tent that had been set up. Pushing aside the tent flap, he was greeted to the thrum of chatter as a dozen R.I.C.T. officers sorted through the wreckage and oodles of data on sight.
  Pascal demanded over the din, “Any updates? I wanted a lead an hour ago!”
  A wiry human with a mess of wild ginger hair popped up from the crowd. They rushed over to the chief with a nervous smile on their face and a look of fiery determination in their eyes. A brief salute was given, followed by an adjustment to their spectacles before they finally spoke, “Chief, we got something. In the wreckage, I managed to find a vehicle identification number, AAVBH41JXMN109186. We’re currently running it and we should have a report back in by noon, but we’ve managed to determine that the car was a Volkswagen EuroVan. Security footage confirms this. We also haven’t been able to pick up an organic residue from the blast, which means there was no bomber in the actual vehicle. It was operated remotely. Oh! And we found some hardware scattered about that would likely belong to dampeners...”
  Though Pascal was listening, the Fae’s eyes were elsewhere, slowly drawn to something they had not noticed before. Through half-lidded gaze, the chief starred out a ventilation window in the tent at a water tower in the distance. A thought crossed their mind.
  “Good work so far, Winston.” Pascal patted the officer on the shoulder. “Send me the report on the VIN when you get it. I want to know how many owners the vehicle had; I want odometer readings and rollback alerts, liens, titles and accident history. Everything...” Pascal paused, before managing to put their thoughts into words. “Remotely, hmm? I need you and your team to keep working. See if you can determine the range on the detonation device and the remote control. Salvage what you can, and by tonight all of this needs to move back to HQ. We’ve got other jobs to handle; our resources are spread too thin.”
  Winston gave Pascal a salute as the Chief removed himself from the tent.
  
  Delegating orders over a period of hours, Pascal dedicated a team to interview the neighbors, in hopes of one of them being able to make mention of any suspicious activity in the neighborhood. From the attack site, Pascal also began to choose officers he’d elect for patrolling the streets later that night. He wanted some members of the task force to go incognito and case magical officials of the same caliber as Selias, in hopes of determining who the next target for the Reclaimers might be.
  Lastly, the chief set to casting a rudimentary scrying spell of his own, in hopes of finding something new, however, the Fae only managed visions of the protection spell Selias employed to keep his family from being turned to ash. That at least explained how the family survived the incident, and the dampeners Officer Winston had hypothesized would have justified the delayed activation of the spell.
  Another grimace took Pascal’s face. Their cold gaze turned towards the water tower in the distance once again. A sigh escaped the chief as he finished delegating their final orders, before dismissing himself and setting out towards the tower.
  
  Spoiler: Final Orders

  Sybil somber
  Slate has been tasked to go on an unofficial RICT patrol with the new trainee, Bluy. This will serve as experience for the rookie, as well as alow to them to case the streets.
  Renny
  Devin has also been tasked with patrol duty.
  Areas of interest right now are the Rift District, the Docks, and streets where wealthy magic folk might live.
• 
  
  
  In the cold shadow of a derelict building, Bast sat upon a verdant hill and gazed out over the bustling Docks below. An industrious din filled the air – even from this distance – accompanied by a mild lake breeze. Smoke mingled with the fishy aroma of Lake Felburn. Despite the terrorist attack that had taken place earlier, folks were forced to continue their menial routines, slaving away for the sake of industry and profit. All was a cycle in Edgewater, not even the threat of radicalism could stop the wheel from turning.
  Regardless, most would likely not be in high spirits today; there were few who sympathized with the Reclaimers. That made today a perfect day for performance. The common folk would pay even a hapless leper like Bast if he could take their minds off of the dread of reality for but a few minutes.
  
  Moving to their feet, Bast felt pain suddenly rip through his chest. Like the hooked legs of a spider, the agony swiftly scurried around his diaphragm, spinning a web of misery within his very being. The pain buried itself deep, and the mage’s mind began to cloud with insanity, however, through sheer force of will, the high priest managed to shake off the encroaching madness before it could set in. Shuddering violently, Bast stifled an involuntary scream and walked into the crumbling wood treatment facility behind him.
  Navigating the collapsing passageways of the building, Bast came upon his stashed “performer’s pack”, which contained cloth to be fashioned into a makeshift stall as well as a rug and several other props for his street performances and readings.
  Performance in of itself was a ritual for Bast, the pleasures it gave the leper fed his dark patron’s voracious hunger, and it gave the high priest opportunities to scout for possible followers. It wasn’t infrequent that someone disillusioned with their own life would come to a fortuneteller looking for answers.
  Bast tried to stifle another howl of pain but failed. The wail ripped through the silence of the dilapidated building, echoing through the mite-infested bones of the facility. Something was wrong. There was a disturbance in the air and the smell of foul magics. The atmosphere seemed to buzz around the ruined building, and Bast let out another involuntary shriek. Slowly he clasped his deck of tarot cards in his crippled hand, readying a spell for whatever was coming.
  Arthro
  

 

[Arthro]

A sovereign, overwhelming sense of primal solicitude could be felt from deep within any soul-bearer nearby -- unease akin to the dread felt moments before the first drop of a torrential downpour. While certainly unnatural, one couldn't pinpoint whether the presence brandished malice or came in peace. Overbearing silence met Bast, drowning what little activity was present in the building with a thick mildew scent. Clawing through the building's interior, the presence grew, and it finally presented itself:

The Swarm.

Gnats arrived first, flowing freely in a cloud akin to a thick, cohesive gas, flooding the building from each sewer pipe present. Roaches soon followed, coating all surfaces with thousands of shiny, fluttering tiles of spines clattering in unison. Arachnids, harvestmen, their thick, spindly legs waving from behind the roaches, their ovoid bodies bobbing with each step, legs bounding like live hairballs. All bugs were searching through the building quickly and thoroughly, falling from ceilings, pushing, and batting against windows in flight -- a panic?
Finally, their numbers maxed, and the creatures ceased to flood from the pipes, and the glistening flood of insects and arachnids finally reached the room containing the Leper. They stopped as one, every leg, every antenna, each gnat, and harvestman ceased their bobbing. Their stillness seemed to gently waft genderless, playful, yet unstable voices into the mind of the man, each new phrase overlapping the last.

"New." "Odd."
"Strange." "Weird."
"Dislike." "What?" "White."
"Food." "Please."
"Big." "Scared."
"I don't." "I don't."
"Please?"
"Eat." "Eat."
"Run!" "Turn!"

The thoughts ceased after a short, seemingly endless time. Each and every beady eye glared at the cloth covered man. Again, all voices spoke directly into his mind -- this time in near perfect sync.

"WWWhatt aaree yyyououu?"

Croaker

 

[Sybil]

Slate Hardgriff, Downtown, R.I.C.T. HQ
​

It was always a strange interaction with the magically animated bunch of cogs, not just because of their lack of any facial expressions, but because of their seemingly ancient ways about technology at times. Example? The elderly soul still uses his pager from way back in the day. There is was, clipped onto his side, buzzing now and distracting him from the stack of papers he was about to start on. Damn, I seriously forgot how much paperwork I had to when I wasn't the second in command...

They thought about that as they saw their current job, which proved to be exactly the thing they needed to make their job as they burst out laughing at the small pager. Incognito? Me? Maybe the old Fae finally is getting dementia, HA!...

"Mmmmhmmhmm~, ahh I better find that paper and coffee fetching rookie, make sure they know we need to head out..." The old soul stood up, stretching their body and bending slightly back despite not ever needing to stretch anyway, now looking around and asking around for the rookie. Once he had a general level and direction he grabbed his trenchcoat and headed towards the rookie. Maybe he may reach him halfway? Who knew.

Directly interacts: somber
Indirectly Mentions: Croaker

 

[somber]

• Myla: Good Times Inc HQ
• Bluy: R.I.C.T HQ

• 
  
  Myla lazily swung in a hammock she had tied between two support beams, near the center of the gang's warehouse. She was trying to read some generic young adult novel she lifted off the rack of a thrift shop. Sadly, Myla wasn't in any mood to be relaxing and putting the focus into reading a book, especially one as shitty as this. This protagonist is so clueless, he's almost senile! How can he not be picking up on the hints that Rebecca is leaving him? She left a drawn-out exasperated sigh and tossed her book onto the floor, giving up on literature for the day. Books are for geeks anyway. She listened to Shin and Nami's conversation, hoping they could come up with something maybe she could join in on.
  
  Myla watched Nami snort a line of coke big enough to revive a dead horse. Her hairs on the back of her neck rose as the Oni slammed on the table and yelled about. Myla didn't mind the loud noise, but there was alot about Nami that intimidated her. Maybe it was her brutish nature, or her sexual preference... she shook that thought after meddling with it for a few seconds. Myla sat up in her hammock at the mention of human girls, deciding to butt into the conversation. "It's because human girls are wimps who get upset when their hair gets out of place." She said, a hint of what seemed like envy in her tone.
  
  "Also I wouldn't suggest doing anything fun today... as result of that bombing you can bet on a bunch of those RICT piggies sniffing about, trigger happy." Myla looked outside and pouted at the muggy scene. Gray skies, with a drizzle of chilling rain. It was the first crappy day of the year, officially marking the beginning of 'September Weather.' "It's crummy outside anyway. I dunno, maybe we should start a party or somethin'..." She suggested, returning to her cocoon of a hammock to keep warm.
  
  Direct Interaction: Sybil Mykinkaiser
  
  
• 
  Bluy walked with swift purpose, through the corridors and offices of the R.I.C.T Headquarters, heading out to find her assigned partner. She held her folder, containing her most recent assignment in one hand, while straightening her outfit with the other. This was her first job with an officer, and she was going to make sure to leave a good, professional impression. Thats what this whole business was about: connections and good impressions. Her steps kept up a quick tempo, a product of her brisk pace, her hard-soled shoes, and her short legs. Not only was this assignment important to her, but she was also decently frightened of her temporary partner. She had seen the figure around the HQ a few times, but never interacted with them. In fact, she had never interacted with any Arcane Dolls in her life, and had no idea what mannerisms to use in front of them. She also had a sleight fear of mannequins so it will take effort not to flinch of fright if Slate caught her off guard.
  She stepped inside of the elevator, pressing on the floor where Slate was located, and took a deep breath, trying to soothe her nerves and stress.
  
  The elevator doors began to open with a pronounced 'ding' and Bluy got ready to step out. However as the doors opened, they revealed Slate to be standing right in front of her, waiting for the elevator to arrive. Bluy suppressed a yelp and tried to hide the fact that she almost jumped out of her own skin at the sudden surprise. "S-ah-um-ahem-... Officer Slate sir, I believe I am your partner for t-today's assignment." She said, standing rigidly, her arms pinned to her sides. Her face glowed red, from the embarrassment of all her mental preparations coming crashing down on her. As she mentally berated herself, she tried to regain composure, hoping to recover herself from this terrible moment of shame.
  Direct Interaction: Sybil
  

 

[Croaker]

High Priest Bast Kanaan

At first, it came in waves, with each new breed of creature that entered the rotting chamber adding to the clamor, akin to the building of an orchestra. Thousands of weightless wings and flimsy legs punctuated the stale air with their own tune until eventually, the cacophony of noise reached a crescendo, in which a flood of voices washed over Bast. Had the leper not already been privy to the experience of having their mind regularly violated by an elder god, they would have surely been overwhelmed. Instead, they stood at the center of the swarm, simply in awe of its magnitude and the implications behind such a thing.
For a moment, Bast’s mind wandered to the book of Exodus and the eighth plague beset upon Egypt by God; a swarm of locusts said to turn the sky and earth black with their numbers whilst consuming all vegetation. The leper wondered for a moment – as insects swarmed around him –if perhaps Hadar had a hand in this.
The Swarm’s question pulled Bast from his thoughts, and back to the reality of the situation. It seemed the body of insects meant him no harm for now and so the leper let a rotten smile spread across his lips as he looked out at his captive audience, his vibrant blue eyes twinkling with delight.
“I, my friends, am Bast Kanaan.” As Bast spoke he raised his crippled hand – still holding the tarot card – and gave it an exaggerated wave, causing the card to seemingly disappear. “Also known as Jester Halfgrip. Or if you prefer,” Bast stifled a howl as he gave an eccentric bow, “Howler.” The mage stood upright and looked out into the now silent swarm. “Although, I realize that does not answer your question, now does it? No. You’ve asked me a much more complicated question, a good question most don’t bother to ask. You’ve asked me what I am.” The leper paused. Beneath the shadow of his tattered cloak’s hood, Bast’s twisted smile seemed to grow tenfold, showing off a set of crooked and jagged teeth, the man’s blue eyes lighting up with madness as his body shuttered. Another wave of pain hit the mage, and a guttural shriek erupted from deep within Bast. “Perhaps it has become apparent to you, my friends, but I am a creature rotting whilst still living, existing on the edge of death at all times. I am a human, twisted and perverted into the form you now see before you. I am agony, but I am alive.” The mages wild eyes took in the swarm’s magnitude as a thought suddenly surfaced.
“Tell me, are you alive? Can you answer me that, my friends – or rather, ‘friend’? I am beginning to suspect you are one.”
Arthro

 

[Bang Bang]

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Location: OotL HQ, Rift District

Morna was a ferocious woman at the best of times, so most would do well to fear when suddenly summoned by her, riding on the coattails of a Reclaimers victory. However, Maria being Maria, apprehension was the least of what she was feeling; though she'd never name it thus, a sense of excitement thrummed through her muscles as she departed from her chambers and strode to the the arranged meeting location. Besides her thighs, her fingers hung loose, forefingers twitching in mimicry of a meaningless beat. The way the Reclaimers were carrying on, she knew that Morna surely couldn't afford to keep playing things safe. They had to answer in kind.
Such a task was exactly what Maria had been awaiting for months, if not years.

The bombings were proof of humanity's irrational and irrepressible appetite for destruction. In all honesty, Maria was long past the point of pretending she was after anything different. It was easier to fight them back with the same fire they'd shown their over-worldly visitors; Maria had never been the strong one, that had always been her wife. Perhaps, if she had been the one to die, her counterpart would have found a way to resolve the interracial tensions through diplomacy. Maria just wanted revenge, though the Order provided a nobler front to hide behind.

"Morna. Good morning," Maria said with a curt nod as she opened the vast weight of the doors, repeating the gesture to the lamia present. Viviane was barely out of childhood, really, despite her enormous size, and though Maria was far from the paternal sort, seeing her there nonetheless paused the urgency for action. "Viviane." Though that was as verbose as she would get this early in the day, she gave them both a perfectly pleasant smile and came to stand beside the lamia, back straight, arms crossed behind her back, chin up.

A slow smirk then graced her lips as she gave Morna a customary bow of respect. "I presume you've already decided on our response?" She said with obvious relish, not thinking it necessary to state the subject she referred to; the whole HQ had spoken of little else the whole morn. As she spoke, her mobile - a loathsome device that she tolerated purely for its practical advantages - bleeped in her back pocket. She gave Morna an apologetic grimace, checked the text, tapped a brief reply, and returned the device accordingly.

Tags: Mykinkaiser SadSnake [/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContentWilder" style="display: none;"]

Location: A.R.S HQ, Southshore

The bombings were starting to get on Wilder's nerves.

It was not that she did not appreciate the suffering they caused, but her main point of irritation was that they marked yet another notch of severity in the mounting tensions in Edgewater. Twenty-five years, and she had hoped they'd all be over and done with this nonsense. Then again, from what she understood from human racial tensions when it had been merely humans bickering among themselves over shades of skin and continent (as opposed to dimension) of origin, she perhaps shouldn't have been surprised to awaken to yet more news of terror attacks.

Thanks to the Reclaimers, her morning was spent managing paperwork. Certain still-classified procedures and A.R.S members were loaned out to help with the clear up of the mess in a purely neutral capacity; no need to get they themselves targeted by the next idiot dappling in explosives. To R.I.C.T... she hesitated on this one. Under no circumstances ought their own guild to become involved in the squabbles of politics, but she always didn't want the Society being publicly persecuted for complacency in city-wide issues. As such, after a long while of contemplation, she drafted a letter to its commander, Pascal Krisven, notifying him that the A.R.S would be willing to lend a hand for purely defensive purposes— to a certain extent, of course.

With that out of the way, she send a Society wide email round notifying members that they were to continue with their projects as before; any and all required to be outsourced would be contacted privately. The next message she sent via a text, a quaint little human invention which was similar to Arcane Letter Swapping, but less recognizable as from herself. Marisela, one of the Lost's members, couldn't afford to be caught consulting with someone of her own profile and affiliation, so for now, mobile communications would have to do.

M.R

me

I assume M will have a response for Rc.

me

Please notify me of red zones ASAP

them

In meeting. Talk soon.

Last, but certainly not least, she drafted a quick message to Everett, inquiring after if he could still make their usual scheduled meet-up given the commotion occurring elsewhere.

Tags: Mykinkaiser Croaker YumenoTsukishiro SadSnake [/div]

 

[Arthro]

Spoiler: Music

"Bast." "The Bast."
"Bast."
"Bast." "The Bast." "Howler." "Bast."
"Bast."
"Bast." "The Bast." "Howler."
"Bast." "Bast." "Bast." "Bast." "Jester."
"Howler." "Bast." "Bast."
"Bast." "Bast?" "The Bast."
"Bast." "Bast."
"The Bast."
"The Bast." "The Bast." "The Bast."
"MMMeeee..."
"He." "He." "The Bast."
"Lost!" "They!" "Lost!"
The voices whispered collectively.
"Sick!" "Sick!"
"Bast!"
"Rid!"
"MMMMMeee..."
"Get!" "Run!"
In one unified, sweeping motion around the room, each bug continued their fluid motions once more. Harvestmen bobbed, roaches clattered, flies bumped, centipedes skittered, spiders weaved, and crickets sprung. Orbiting The Leper, coating the floor, ceiling and walls, The Swarm surrounded the fearless walking dead -- yet not a single one came closer than a meter to him.
"Danger!"
"IIII hhhavee nnnothingg tto sssayy aaaboutt mmee..."
"There!" "There!"
"Head!" "The Bast!" "Lost!"
In the chaotic rush of the insects there seemed to arise a harmony. All movements gradually shifted into a rhythmic, coordinated beat of scraping and drumming of their small bodies. Roaches tilted their bodies in waves, reflecting sunlight in waves of iridescent, spindly glamour. Arachnids tumbled in groups from the ceiling like clumps of snow, and centipedes glided over all other creatures in rivers of flowing legs. All forces came together to form a musical, a chitinous ensemble working together as one to form a percussive instrument.
"BButtt wweee... AAAree ttThe sSwarmm... IInn sssearchh oof fffoooodd..."
"Food!" "Eat!" "Hunger."
"Please." "Food!"
"Food!" "Yum."
"Eat." "Where?" "Food!"


Thoughts ceased for a bit, and the music continued.


"Food." "We."
"We." "We." Friend."
"Food."
"Help."
"Help." "Friend." "We."
"Where?"
"RRRatss aare nno lllongerr aappetizingg tto myy chchilderenn... AAndd Ththeyy feell thththee sssssameee aabouttt yyyouu..."
The music ceased, and the voices spoke with a more serious tone.
"BButt III fffeel aaann aaauurraaa ffromm yyouu uunllikee ootherr pprayy... YYouu ttrulyy aaaree aagonyy... ThThenn yyouu mmayy hhelpp uusss..."

Croaker

 

[Mykinkaiser]

• Shin
• Morna
• Everett

• 
  
  
  
  Shin watched bemused as Nami did well more than enough cocaine to cause him to instantly OD. He had never understood her drug habit personally, but neither had he ever judged her for it. It was GTI's philosophy to not get in the way of other's good times if at all possible after all, even if that good time was consuming vast amounts of drugs.
  
  He looked over to where Myla, a relatively new member, was sitting in a hammock as she chimed in following Nami's enthusiastic suggestions. "Why you gotta be so damn logical for a killjoy?" He asked with mock annoyance before turning back to Nami, "But she's right, doing any of those is gonna get us caught and I'm not up for spending another week in the pen, 'specially now that they got cells that can hold you. Plus, we ain't gonna be able to get any girls after what you did to the last one, she's still in the hospital since you got yourself high and forgot to hold back you horny bitch."
  
  As Shin finished saying that he slid off of the chair, using his hands to spring himself athletically to his feet. He had a gleam in his eyes as if he'd just had an idea, which was usually a sign that things were going to get very messy very quickly. "Speaking of holding back, I reckon I know what we could do," he said, a wolfish grin creeping across his face as his hand went to the everpresent sword at his waist, "I figure we're overdue for a spar, and since it's crummy outside as Mlya said, it's the perfect time for one. don't you think?"
  
  Location: GTI HQ, The Docks
  Tags: Sybil somber
  
• 
  
  It wasn't long after she had sent the messenger that Viviane and Marisela arrived in her office, which was good as Morna didn't tolerate tardiness at the best of times which these certainly were not. She didn't return the greetings but instead got straight to business.
  
  "As I'm sure you've heard by now, Selias Carthrange's residence was targeted by the humans last night. While the man was a fool, he was a relatively useful fool as well as one from beyond the Rift like us." She paused to shoot a glare at Marisela as the horrid communication device that she kept in her pocket, for reasons that utterly escaped the Fae, produced an unnatural chiming. She would have to reprimand her later, but for now there were more pressing issues. "As you've deduced Marisela, we will not be remaining silent in the face of this," she continued once the other woman had pocketed the grotesque perversion of the natural resources that formed it, "I am tasking you both with uncovering the specific culprits behind this act of savagery, and dealing with them. You shall have the full support of the Order in this task, and it is up to your discretion how you dispose of them."
  
  Reaching into her drawer, she drew out a small notebook with runes inscribed on the leather cover and placed it on the surface of her richly carved desk, in front of Viviane and Marisela. "Use this to send reports of your progress, I expect to be kept well informed," she continued, he tone booking no argument, "I shall send you any pertinent information I uncover as well." She then stood up, meeting their eyes in turn with a gaze that hid the roiling anger she felt behind a mask of resolve and calm. "I need not remind you that there is no option but success in this endeavor. We will show the humans we are not to be trifled with," she said, her voice carrying a note of finality that served as their dismissal.
  
  Location: OotL HQ, The Rift District
  Tags: SadSnake Bang Bang
  
• 
  
  Everett had been walking through downtown, eating a sandwich when he saw the news that there had been a bombing in a store window tv. The bombing itself wasn't too surprising, he'd gotten pretty used to them recently, but he still couldn't help but worry about Wilder. From what he could see this Selias guy was pretty important, and the fact that he was bombed was a pretty big deal. If they were getting that bold, maybe they'd try to bomb her as well. Now, Everett knew she could handle herself, but she was also the closest thing he had for a friend in Edgewater so he couldn't help but be concerned.
  
  In all honesty, he wasn't entirely sure if they could be counted as friends, but if nothing else she was trying to help him figure out what he was which was something. Thus, he began to make his way across the city to the headquarters of the society so as to quell the small but insistent worry in the back of his mind. Though that worry wasn't enough to stop him from picking up and consuming another two sandwiches and a hotdog along the way.
  
  Once at the HQ, he made his way up to Wilder's room, nodding politely at the A.R.S. members he passed. Just as he was about to knock on her door, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He still wasn't entirely familiar with the device, but he could at least call and text, which were the primary reasons he had it in the first place since he couldn't use magic to perform those functions on his own. He pulled it out and unlocked it to see a text from Wilder asking if he'd still be able to make their meet up. A wry smile crept onto his face at the coincidence, extending a bit farther than it probably should have, before he knocked on the door to her study. "Hey, just got your text," he called through the door, "I swung by to make sure things were alright here after last night.
  
  Location: Downtown --> A.R.S. HQ, Southshore
  Tags: Bang Bang
  

 

[Sybil]

• Nami Domsen, GTI HQ, The Docks
• Slate Hardgriff, RICT HQ, Downtown

• 
  “Hey I paid that bitch good money, not my fault her ribs broke! Like Myla said, human girl’s are wusses! Humans can seem pretty pathetic too though so maybe it’s just in their souls~” The demon grinned, poking fun at her partner’s. Did she believe it? Possibly, more like a general rule when dealing with humans, assuming they will likely add up to nothing. And guess what? Just like that prostitute’s ribs, they crumble under pressure....She did have to explain how she accidentally slammed the poor working girl into a wall hard enough to cause it crack like her bones. What? She couldn’t help it the human was soft! At least the Oni took her to the hospital! Even if it was to see if she was still fit to continue her moneys worth of time...
  
  Regardless of the past, Nami could practically smell the challenge being issues to her, the cocaine only fueling her eccentric personality. The woman almost seemed to be unable to talk using a volume less than her lungs could hold. “I am telling you a few things right now! One, those cells can’t hold me I swear, I just didn’t have enough time! Second, watch your mouth I’m in need, not horny ha! Three, I will put you back in the hospital, sure you want to do this~?”
  
  With her peace she extended her arms down at her sides and slightly out, almost like she was aiming to pick an invisible person up, only to motion towards herself with both hands. Her scars from last scrap they had were all healed, a perk of being an oni of course.
  
  
  Directly interacts: Mykinkaiser somber
  
• 
  
  The search for the newest ring of their litter of employees was thankfully short, the girl practically appearing before him as those chrome doors opened up to the elevator. His mechanical and magical eyes adjusted to the surprise, small cogs and wisps of magic in where retinas should be. His face, lacking most of any actual capacity to show emotions besides the smallest smile he could manage along with varying degrees of closing his eyes with ‘eyelid’ shutters used to keep debris out of his optical sensors used voluntarily.
  
  Speaking of the smile, the corners of his mechanical mouth slightly lifted as he let out a soft chuckle witnessing the nervous rookie, unable to feel anything but flattered.
  
  Ha, seems I can still make women stutter and blush even now~! Poor thing probably is nervous about her first job.
  
  “Yes, Bluy I assume? You are stuck with me for today so try to hang in there yeah? Sort of short notice, but are you ready? Time is priceless after all.” He walked inside, of Bluy left room for him by stepping aside, a machine dressed in a button up collared shirt and pants with dress shoes now pressing the down button. Seems he was eager to get out of the office despite her response.
  
  Directly interacts: somber

 

[SadSnake]

The lamia waved at her mentor and smiled, before she looked down, eyes searching through the floor as the order's head explained things to them both."As I'm sure you've heard by now, Selias Carthrange's residence was targeted by the humans last night. While the man was a fool, he was a relatively useful fool as well as one from beyond the Rift like us." She didn't have knowledge of the events, being a pretty big sleeper, and no one waked her up to warn her- But she had gotten enough scolding when she was younger to know this wasn't the right time to interrupt her. Pretty much.. no time was the right time to interrupt her.

"As you've deduced Marisela, we will not be remaining silent in the face of this," Viviane listened intently- But she couldn't help but look at the phone. She didn't hate technology- She was moreso.. curious about it. But the other members of the order didn't seem to like it at all, and so she wasn't able to try out those wonderful things. She.. thought they'd be, anyways, if her mentor used them despite the bad opinion. Mari had given her a simple lesson- How to turn them off and on, and how to "unlock" them, while there was no keyhole to be found.

"I am tasking you both with uncovering the specific culprits behind this act of savagery, and dealing with them. You shall have the full support of the Order in this task, and it is up to your discretion how you dispose of them." She had a small smirk at that. Last time she had been sent in a mission like this- She had the chance to snare one in her tail, watch them cry as their bone broke. Maybe it wasn't needed- But it sure as hell felt good to see them suffer.

She looked at the book, before glancing at Mari. As her mentor, she imagined she'd be the one to pick up the book. "I need not remind you that there is no option but success in this endeavor. We will show the humans we are not to be trifled with," She looked at them like they shouldn't waste time to get to work- And so, she made sure her mentor took the book before slithering out, taking a good ten seconds for her tail to disappear from the room once she was gone.

Once the whole of her left the room, she smiled at the succubbus. "So, we're going fool hunting and fiend murdering. I wonder how long it'll take us to find them and purge the evil of this laannnd!" She said, taking on a serious face before looking at her mentor giggling and doing a fistpump. "Heheheh-... oh, uhm. By the way. Any progress on going back into the rift yet?" While she asked the question weekly, she knew full well what the answer'd be. Otherwise taking care of the humans around here wouldn't be the most important concern.

Bang Bang Mykinkaiser

 

[xAlter]

Coriander and Myra Muir​

Watching as his wife left his office, Cor turned to the paperwork that had somehow multiplied on his desk. He then looked to the clock in the room, realizing it was still the morning, and they had a few hours before the operation commenced on the Reclaimers. Grabbing a pen, Cor went to signing the papers after browsing through them real quick. Most were just confirmation of easy jobs that had been completed. Jobs ranged from pest control, security details, robbery, and full out militant operations. Taking another look at the clock and the never ending stack of paper, Cor stood up and made a decision. Leaving his office, he went to find his wife.

Leaving the double door office, Cor walked through the halls of the Ouroboros base at a leisure pace. The subterranean tunnels did little to take away from the overall peace of the walk, nor did it contribute to anything negative. Members of the guild ran and walked by, saluting and greeting their guildmaster as he passed. He returned all greetings and salutes, a trait his predecessor did not possess, the ability to respect the wishes of his subordinates. Heading to the main armory, Cor was pleasantly surprised to find Myra going through a checklist.

Members ran back and forth getting everything ready, that she did not notice her approaching husband. All the members stopped, stiffened, and saluted. Myra looked up in surprise at the sudden cease in movement, but nearly yelped when a pair of arms encircled her waist. "Cor!!" she shouted, trying to not let the surprise filter into her voice. as she turned in her husband's arms. "What are you doing here? I thought you had work to do."

Chuckling to himself, the guildmaster shook his head. "I mean, I did, but I thought spending time with wife was more important." he responded. "How about we go get some breakfast? Make up for last night." he suggested, letting go of his wife, only to rest his hands on her waist. "I heard this really good cafe opened up recently. We should go."

Giggling, Myra pecked her husband on the lips, her eyes twinkling with a happy shine. "Of course darling. Let me put someone else in charge." Breaking free of her husband's loving hold, Myra found a high ranking officer to take over. Handing him the checklist, she turned back to Cor. "Shall we?" she asked, holding out her arm. Linking arms with her, Cor started to walk in step with Myra as they exited the base and went onto the streets.

There, people were none the wiser that two of the most feared mercenaries were walking with them. All they saw was a young, happy couple walking through the streets on the beautiful morning. People would politely greet them and they would respond back in kind. No one would ever think of the coming conflict that the streets would soon feel. No one knew that in a few hours, red would flow like a river, and Edgewater would shake with war.

 

[Nenma Takashi]

Street corner Downtown

Drinking from her bottle of cheap booze Muteki began to think. As things around her were getting crazy Muteki hadn't been having any fun. "Muteki?" Finally snapping out of thought Muteki looked at Yumi and smiled. "Hey Yumi, your my friend right?" Yumi gasped at the question trying to grab Muteki's hands only to phase through her. "Of course I am Muteki! I told you the day we met I'd be your best friend." Her overzealous friendship speech brought a smile to Muteki not cause she genuinely enjoyed what Yumi had said but because it meant her plan was perfect. "Well as my friend will you please help me join a club. I wanna make more friends and I heard about this group called Good Times Inc." Yumi was happy Muteki finally was saying something she could get behind.

"Of course I'll help you what do you need?" Muteki finished off the rest of her bottle and explained. "Well their club is full of really cool people and i was hoping you'd show off how amazing we are. Then maybe they'll let me in!" In truth Muteki wasn't sure how open Good Times Inc was to humans but if she made them think she was some kind of super mage that'd send her ratings with them skyrocketing who wouldn't want a badass babe like her on their side. They'd be fucking morons not to want her around she couldn't even begin to fathom the idea of not being the baddest bitch in the gang. Plus Yumi was cute but can't bang a ghost or at least as far as Muteki knows.

 

[Renny]

Devin Amari
Rift District​

As far as the eye can see, people of all different races went about their daily businesses. This was a daily sight in the enclosed city of Edgewater. Devin took a deep breath, looking around his surroundings. Though this should just be a normal patrol, with him going through familiar routes through the district, he still couldn’t shake off the unmistakable air of tension as he walked. Every so often, he would see other R.I.C.T. officers who much like him was all clad in their respective uniforms and roaming the streets. Patrol cars passed by every so often, and the buzz of a helicopters rotors can be heard in the distance. It was a little obvious that their overall presence in the city is much more conspicuous recently.


Devin thought that this was to be expected, and that this was a good response considering that there was essentially a direct act of terrorism in the middle of the largest non-human zone in the city. With over two decades of coexisting in a single area, I assumed that all of us would get used to it already. Apparently not though.

He knows that this can still have the potential to unnerve the citizens, seeing a much higher amount of R.I.C.T. activity. But with the city being hit with a string of terrorist attacks though, Devin thought that they would understand.


Devin arrived and stopped at a busy intersection. The cause of the slow flow of traffic most likely from a checkpoint visible in the distance, set up on one of the bridges connecting the district to other parts of the city. Let’s just hope we can manage to stop even more attacks from ever happening very soon, or this could snowball into something bigger...

 

[Croaker]

High Priest Bast Kanaan

Thoughts of stars and sickly memories of Hadar’s abysmal visions consumed Bast’s mind as he stared out at the swarm, its primordial dance and tune filling the mage with a sense akin to being trapped in Hadar’s eldritch plane – the place Bast’s mind was forced to when communing with the elder evil.
Stray beams of sunlight managed between breaks in the cloud coverage, violently cutting through holes in the crumbling roof of the destitute facility, like radiant sabers splashing onto the chitinous sea surrounding Bast. Light reflected and twinkled in the dark hoard like starlight, as the feral song of the Swarm rose and fell, a choir of voices shaking the stale air into a wave of excitement, forcing motes of dust to dance laconically about. Only an insane man – or perhaps a prophet – could find the circumstance rapturous.
The Swarm’s presence was beginning to feel like portent; Bast would have to be careful not to misinterpret it.
A fascination omen, nonetheless.
“Perhaps...” Bast looked out at his new acquaintances, regarding them with a twinkle of corrupted madness in his eyes. “Perhaps I can indeed be of service to you. I understand your hunger. I sympathize.” Bast’s voice was raspy and sickly. It was clear the man’s vocal cords were shredded from years of screaming.
He coughed and briefly succumbed to a fit of low howls, before regaining his composure, a smile taking its place back on the leper’s face. A dark stain began to spread down the bandages on his arm, hinting at a fresh wound opening up on the mage’s papery skin. It would be gone soon enough, however. Wounds came and went, the flesh contorted and bent like clay at the mercy of some demented sculptor.
“Yet, I must beg the question, why not simply stalk the people of this city at night? We are trapped here like cattle, ripe for the slaughter, wouldn’t you say? There is a fire brewing in the bowels of this putrid place, I know you can feel it too. It is a simple task to whisk another away and blame the disappearance on the idiocracy of the current political tensions...” Bast, of course, was speaking from experience. Killing and making bodies disappear was becoming tradecraft.
“But perhaps I have misinterpreted your situation. Perhaps it is not the hunting you need help with. What exactly is it can I do for you?”
Arthro

 

[somber]

• Myla, GTI HQ
• Bluy, RICT HQ

• 
  Myla watched Nami get into position, ready to fight. I haven't seen a spar here in a while, this may be fun to watch. Especially because of the build difference between the two, Myla thought, sitting up in her hammock. She had no intentions of getting involved however, since combat isn't her area of expertise. She is more of a runner when it comes to close combat. Even when it does come down to fighting hand to hand, she would play dirty, nothing held back. Myla felt worry for Shin, seeing the size difference, plus the fact that Nami was all coked up at the moment. There was no telling what she was capable of at this point. "Try not to get blood everywhere..." she commented with a playful tone, her voice tinged with concern.
  
  Interactions: Sybil Mykinkaiser
  
• 
  Bluy stepped aside, letting her partner into the elevator. "Y-yes sir, I am ready." She stuttered, as the elevator doors closed and the machine brought them to the ground floor. "So are we going on a patrol near the crime scene of the bombing? Hope we can get clues about the attack." She said, trying to make small talk while they made their way to their assigned area to patrol. Bluy had no idea what to expect, or what a typical patrol consists of, but she hoped they won't run into any trouble on the job. The smoother this first assignment went, the better.
  
  Interactions: Sybil

 

[Life.]

• Joan Archer, The Reclaimers
• Roan Okane, GTI

• 
  
  
  Location: Reclaimers HQ, The Docks
  
  A ripple brought onto the fragile peace of Edgewater. The bombing was but only a small act from the Reclaimers. There was so much more to come. So much more. In order for a cleansing to take place, Joan needed to test the waters. Plus she wanted to make a statement for herself and the Reclaimers. It was all she wanted, attention. And what better way to capture the eyes of society but through an exploding way of a bombing? Especially to a Rifter. Joan was well aware that there were certain species to the creatures that came across from another world, but she could care less for they were not human. And since they were not human, they were pests in her perfect world. Pests that immediately anyone should have the sense to get rid of, yet it appeared as though her and the Reclaimers were the only sensible humans who saw it that way. It was frustrating to the woman on how incompetent the rest of the population of Edgewater was when it came to the pests.
  
  "Miss Archer? Miss Archer. Is everything alright?"
  
  Joan's golden eyes peered over the monitor she sat in front of to a scrawny, curly-haired boy standing at the doorway of the makeshift surveillance room. "Marc great timing actually. Would you mind retrieving Kingsley for me?" Without giving the boy a chance to try and say anything back, the woman returned her attention back to the screen. She clicked a key to play the video. Her eyes watched through the recording from the van that they had sent to the latest Rifter's home, Selias. It showed the whole ordeal from the dashcam that they had attached to the van that sent live footage to HQ before it was destroyed in the explosions. Despite the situation receiving the expected results, Joan couldn't help but feel dissatisfied with it.
  
  There was no change brought from the event, only uneasiness. The woman was aware that a change of her desires would come in small steps, but starting it small was torturing her. The longer these acts and phases took, the longer the Rifters were occupying the same world as her. Just the thought of knowing that an anomaly could be walking behind her or be living right next to her, disgusted Joan. They didn't belong here. They didn't belong in her world.
  
  "You don't seem pleased from what you see."
  "The bombing was a sloppy act. Surely there was a more...spontaneous way to send a bomb. A vehicle is something that can be traceable which is why I need you to tell the branch that owned the vehicle to clear out. We cannot have the bastards of R.I.C.T up our asses. You know what, have them burn the building. No trace must be left behind. We cannot let them interfere my plans." The man, named Kingsley, who had just entered the room smiled a knowing smirk as he listened to Joan's orders. They were as extreme as always.
  "Yes ma'am. I will get right onto it. Is there anything else?"
  Joan's eyes had not left the screen the whole time the blonde hair man stood there, "Yes. I want our engineers to figure out a better way to enhance the Dampeners. We need more power to their effect." Kingsley softly chuckled and shook his head. He knew there was no use in arguing with her orders despite their difficulties, "Yes ma'am. I shall leave you to your peace now."
  
  "Ha, peace. I have not felt such a state in decades," Joan muttered to herself as Kingsley walked away.
  
• 
  
  
  Location: Good Times Inc. HQ, The Docks
  
  Fear. It was an emotion of great magnitude, and one that could easily influence the dynamic of business. Roan sighed as he listened in on the news. A bombing. While it might strike anger, fear, or uneasiness in people's hearts, it brought annoyance to Roan's. "Great now business is going to be slow," he slammed his hands onto the makeshift desk he sat at. There was a usual pattern that followed after a terrorist act; an increase to the law enforcement, which brought a decrease into the flow of drugs and other services. This meant that GTI was going to need to be on their toes at the moment when participating in their dealings.
  
  Roan stood up from his desk and walked over to a huge map that hung to his right. Lines, pins, and stickers decorated the map of Edgewater. His eyes looked over the current locations of some dealers they had contracts with as well as the areas where their most loyal customers lived. The man knew he was going to have to enforce to his members to lay low the next few weeks. The last thing they needed was for R.I.C.T to hunt them down. Roan was aware that they were known to the organization, but he also didn't want them to associate them with any terrorist acts. GTI was created for the good times and excitement, not fear and destruction.
  
  This latest bombing was going to dampen their fun at the moment, but Roan was not going to let it stop them.
  
  Roan walked over to the railway of the second floor he stood on at the moment and looked down to where Shin, Nami, and Myla were at. He could tell that his friends were not pleased with the bombings either, especially Shin. The man was not one to sit back, which was something most of the members were going to have to do in the meantime. Roan smirked as he heard his friend complain about being bored which was followed by Nami finding her high place and talking about girls, again. Myla on the other hand was voicing out Roan's concerns. He silently thanked the overloads above for Myla's sensible reasoning. If she had not said anything, then Roan would have. Although he probably would reiterate it to the organization as a whole later today.
  
  But deciding to set aside his leadership responsibilities, Roan descended down the metal stairway to meet up with his gang. Right as he reached them, the tall man overheard Shin challenging Nami. A smirk lifted Roan's face as he jogged over to them, "Loser fights me as well."
  
  Mentions: Mykinkaiser Sybil somber
  

 

[Bang Bang]

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​

Location: OotL HQ, Rift District

Normally Maria would apologise for the phone thing - which clearly pissed Morna off - but she didn't want to risk raising it as a subject for debate, since there really wasn't an option of explaining who was on the other end. Maria was in every way the perfect Order member save for one detail, and she had every intention of keeping that detail under wraps. Trying not to spend Morna's speech planning her own reply, Maria nodded along patiently. Playing detective wasn't exactly her area of experience beyond identifying marks and learning their habits, but she supposed they would involve the same skills: vigilance, observation, and what could crudely be described as stalking.

Plus, 'the full support of the Order' sounded very nice. Maria had no desire to be in a position of absolute power and responsibility like the Fae, it'd hold her back, but getting to throw a little weight around was always a delight. That and she wouldn't have the deal with the usual red tape. Being lumbered with the lamia was an unfortunate extra though. Perhaps that was unfair; Viviane was talented, and Maria didn't dislike her, a fact that could not be said for most people. Having said that, Maria was a lone wolf to the core. She did not take much joy in the knowledge that for what could be the beginning of the end, she'd be having to defer to another's opinion the whole way through.

Taking the book, Maria saluted her thanks. "This will be ideal. And naturally; we will report on the morn and eve. If we fail to check in with you, please, do look into it, as it will only mean that we've failed you, be it through death or poor organisation." The tone Maria took made it clear that 'poor organisation' was not something she was physically or emotionally capable of; death was honestly preferable. "Thank you, ma'am. We will not let our people down."

Accompanying the lamia outside, leading the way through the corridors with a quick stride, heels clacking on the stone floor. "You seem excited," she remarked of the other dryly, trying to resist rolling her eyes even if her face was obscured from the other. Viviane could be such a child sometimes, but given her age, perhaps Maria ought expect it. Despite being caught up in the resentment of the pairing up, Maria was caught off guard, quirking an eyebrow at the closing question. "The Rift?" In all honesty, she'd given up. She didn't want to go back. Everything she had was here now, even if most of it was six feet underground. The humans who were responsible for such arrangements lay this side of the Rift, as as such, Maria must too. "I confess, none at all. I've been focused on other matters. Fool hunting and fiend murdering, as you put it."

Retrieving her phone once more, Maria split her attention between the two women asking after her. To Viv she said, "Well, I believe we'd be best to investigate the last known scene of the Reclaimers. RICT will likely be there, but if Morna's given us full power, we can use bullshit to get our foot in the door. Say something about wanting to commemorate the occasion, try and bring the Rifter community together in these trying times. Put a little Succubus shine on the lies and we ought not to have too much trouble." She had to force herself to remember to add, "Does that work for you?"

Meanwhile on her phone she shot back,

M.R

them

I assume M will have a response for Rc.

them

Please notify me of red zones ASAP

me

In meeting. Talk soon.

me

Red zones pending. Will update when confirmed. Deleting past messages.

Tags: Mykinkaiser SadSnake [/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContentWilder" style="display: none;"]

​

Location: A.R.S HQ, Southshore

Grumbling to herself over the useless reply from the Order informant (what a refined way to refer to one's lover), Wilder was grateful for the relief that was Everett's voice from across the door "Gods, you're a sight for sore eyes, you. Anything that's not the trivialities of admin work." Shoving aside her paperwork with relish, she stood from the desk to walk around it, opening the door. "Come in, please. Give me a good excuse to ignore everyone for the rest of the morning; as could be predicted, they're all losing their heads like chickens. Is that the expression? You'd think twenty-five years would be enough to pick up the basic idioms and yet, here I am."

She was, without a doubt, rambling. Everett made her nervous in all ways but the sexual, an academic wonder, cool as a cucumber, and actually something of a real friend. That he had come over to check on her had her getting all flustered with endearment. His appearing in her bedroom all those years ago, she'd been terrified - and still was on occasion, for good reason - but by now she'd come to feel almost protective of him. Not that someone like him needed protecting in the physical sense, but she worried about him; did he have enough friends, was he grounded enough to stop him from flying off the handle, was he happy. Honestly, she wasn't normally this much of a sap— she needed to get out more.

"Kind of you to think of me. But no, aside from having to deal with the consequential paperwork, I am just fine. You? You seem the type to wander into danger so I don't think my concern was warranted, unlike yours. If they'd bombed a library, then your worrying is justified." Exhaling, she ran her fingers back through her hair and gestured for him to have a seat. Going to a short coffetable pushed up against one wall, she glanced back at him. "Tea, coffee, or something stronger?" She asked, touching a finger to a crystal decanter housing warm brown fluid. She was no budding alcoholic, but if there was ever a morning to take it up, this was it. Once he'd answered, she set about filling his order and matching it for herself. "How have things been with the usual?" She inquired without looking at him, focusing on pouring.

Tags: Mykinkaiser [/div]

 

[SadSnake]

Viviane rubbed the back of her head as Mari commented on her attitude, making it sound more like a reproach than anything. "Well, it's much less boring to practice magic on the field.." She let out a soft sigh as her mentor said she didn't work on the rift. It felt like she was the only one actually trying- Maybe that was her narrow point of view, though. She still wanted to at least know who her parents looked like, and live in her lands a bit. The others seemed to have lost hope, only after 25-... well... yeah, they kinda were.. justified, actually. She looked down and sighed.

She listened closely as she heard the plan. Sounded.. basic. She didn't really know why they wouldn't use their magic to clean house- After all, most of the "RICT" or whatever, were humans. Where they? Well, it didn't matter. She looked up at down at the succubbus, nodding. "Well.. we'd still have to be careful, since they're here.. besides.. wouldn't it be better to cause a distraction? Make a nearby mansion blow up, or something. No one would miss the humans inside." No one that mattered, anyways. She was confident she could do a nice job making sure none would escape- It could even be fun!

She smiled at the thought before looking at Mari's stern expression. Right. Maybe it would've been better to shut up and let her do her thing- But it was too late, anyways. She looked at her and muttered. "I could pose as an human, too.." She'd let her have the final word- After all, she was much more experienced.

Bang Bang