I haven't seen you here before

Detective Black

[General info about this SL:

These introductory scenes are mostly about introducing little pieces of a broader scenario, so everyone's scene is going to be a bit different and it may or may not initially seem as though there's any connection between them. I'm not sure yet how fast this thing will progress, but don't feel as though there's anything in particular you're expected to do. However this thing develops (or doesn't develop) organically is fine.

About this scene in particular:

Threat level is low to nonexistent. (Unless Alex decides he wants to play target practice with other humans for some reason, in which case that's on you.)

No warnings of note.]

Detective Black

The Denver Police Department maintained a couple of indoor and outdoor firing ranges for the training of their officers. Even the lowest ranked among them were required to log a certain amount of practice hours with their weapon as a matter of general safety. This particular range was housed in the basement of one of the central offices. Perhaps Alexander was there out of duty, or perhaps he just liked to keep his shooting technique well-honed. Certainly an Awakened mage had more than enough reason to need that kind of skill.

When he arrived, there were a few other cops making use of the range. A couple of men were firing off rounds in the first two lanes, smiling and joking with each other about keeping score. Further down and all the way at the end, a woman in her late 20's was busy assembling a sleek chrome pistol. She was in plain clothes, with her hair tied back in a temporary ponytail. Had Alex been to the Chantry in recent months, he would have known Sasha by sight, but he hadn't, so her resonance (if he picked up on it) would be new to him.

Officer Brandt

[Awareness?]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )

Detective Black

The woman in the far lane - there was something almost ghost-like about her. She was beautiful, but easy to overlook. As though the eye wanted to slide past her. Her movements were silent and agile, even in the act of something as mundane as cleaning her firearm. The closer one approached her, the more it seemed as though she were trailing some kind of spectral echo: Illusive and Whispering.

Officer Brandt

For some, the requirement to practice is nothing more than an irrelevant drag. They can shoot, dammit, and it’s pointless bureaucracy that makes them scrape through on the minimum hours year after year. Mostly, they were the guys who had been around for years and were just sitting out their time until retirement. Also the guys that weren’t the pick of the crop when it came to being paired up.

Alex, though, did practice and not just here. He’d taken to maintaining the weapons kept out in a certain warehouse’s firing range, as well as practicing there. He didn’t often see others there, but if any of them did want guidance... No, he’s here because his shift had finished and he didn’t much feel like heading anywhere else just yet. There wasn’t anything much to go home to. He could find Kalen, but they just didn’t seem to be ending up in the same place since that encounter in the park. There’s the Chantry, but he knows that the original owner had moved back in and that made it feel... awkward.

No, it’s as good a time as any to get some practice in. It had always been the closest he’d come to meditating before being show how to do it. The need to clear the thoughts, feel the weapon, calm the breathing...

Alexander arrives in uniform, not having yet gone to shower and change after getting back to the station. Equipment still hooked onto his belt, cap carried under one arm. After smiling and greeting the pair in the first rows, he pauses as the first sensation of the woman washes over him. She’s unfamiliar. It’s not exactly unusual to see an unfamiliar face – people come and go for various reasons all the time – but to have a new face radiate a sensation of being Awake? That’s new.

He could turn and walk away, hopefully while she’s still distracted by cleaning and assembling her gun. But that wouldn’t really answer any of the questions that want to pull him towards her. Like who is she? Why is she here, beyond the obvious firearms practice? And... Is she a danger? In general, but to him in particular. Weren’t the Union supposed to be scattered all through the government organisations?

There’s a breath and then he walks on, taking a lane near to her but leaving a clear one between them. And then it’s Alexander’s turn to unholster his pistol, unpack the bullets, and get ready to practice.

Detective Black

[Awareness]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 4, 7, 9) ( success x 2 )

Detective Black

[doo be doo]

Dice: 3 d10 TN3 (4, 4, 8) ( success x 4 ) [WP]

Detective Black

[Dex+Firearms]

Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )

Detective Black

When Alexander took up his place two lanes over, the brunette glanced up from her pistol. There was a click as the chamber snapped into place, oddly noticeable in the brief beat of silence while the two officers at the end of the room reloaded. Then the room filled with the crack and echo of discharged rounds. The woman went still, watching Alexander while she waited for the sound in the room to die down again. If he glanced her way, perhaps he might notice the subtle movement of her lips - the whispered prayer or mantra that she used to focus her Will. Then she turned and sighted down the line of her weapon, firing off a shot at the paper target. It hit somewhere in the chest, near the heart.

A moment later, the two officers at the end of the room holstered their weapons and turned to leave. Once they were gone, the woman turned to Alex and spoke.

"I haven't seen you here before." She set her weapon down and approached Alex's side, reaching a hand out to offer a formal greeting. "Sasha Black. Homicide."

Officer Brandt

[Dex+Firearms, just the old fashioned way]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 3, 3, 6, 8) ( success x 2 )

Officer Brandt

[And what the hell, it might change things a bit. Awareness for the effect.]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 6, 7) ( success x 2 )

Detective Black

Alex felt the push of Sasha's Will. It washed over and past him in a rush of delicate whispers, but whatever effect she'd cast, he wasn't the target. The men at the other end of the room were. Whatever the intention of the effect was, though, it was something he had no familiarity with.

Officer Brandt

Alexander doesn’t spend time cleaning and readying his pistol, that had been taken care of after the last time he’d used it. The last time he’d used it on a range. He glances over at the woman as she closes the chamber of her gun, watching her brace the pistol and take aim at the paper target some way down the range. But he doesn’t watch her fire – he knows what’s coming before the sound of exploding gunpowder resonates through the room. He raises his own pistol and lines up the sight against his own paper adversary. One breath, then hold... And hold a little longer as he feels something from Sasha, but nothing he can exactly put a finger on. She’d changed something. But what..?

And squeeze.

There’s a second shot as Alex places his own round in the target. This one isn’t as close to the centre as Sasha’s had been – if it had been a real person they wouldn’t be using one shoulder and they’d probably be having a lot of trouble breathing right now. Close enough, but could be better. It can always be better...

Round fired off, he glances over to the door where the two men were leaving. Suddenly it was the two of them, which did at least give them privacy. But it also pulled away any witnesses. Alex takes a breath, letting it out in a slow sigh.

I haven’t seen you here before. He’d been wondering how to break the ice –even whether to – but she’d beaten him to it. Flicking the safety back onto the pistol, he lowers it to the counter and turns to her. “Oh, I’ve been around. Transferred here last year.” Alexander reaches out to return the shake. “Alexander Brandt. So are you new in town? I don’t recall hearing your name around station.”

Detective Black

"That's probably a good thing, knowing how people talk." Sasha's mouth curled into a brief smile as she gripped Alexander's hand. "I moved here back in February." There was a pause as she dropped her hand back to her side, watching Alexander with this considering gaze. Finally she added, "With Annie."

They were alone now. And without the accompanying echo of gunfire, the long underground room felt a bit cavernous. There were security cameras installed in two corners of the ceiling, but perhaps these only provided video feed because a moment later Sasha turned to regard Alexander's target, as though analyzing his aim, and said, "You aren't a Technocrat, are you?"

The tone of her voice was light - almost playful. Reminiscent of the way drug dealers might ask a potential client whether or not they were a cop.

Officer Brandt

Alexander laughs. “It depends on what people are saying, and whether it’s anything they’ll say to your face.” Gossip networks are interesting things to watch. The good news spreads and sprouts and flowers for all to see. The bad stuff? That maybe spreads even faster, but takes a much more roundabout route. There’s always the worry that the target will find out, and that leads to awkward conversations. Of course, I don’t think that. I’m not sure who told me.

With Annie. Alexander pauses again, one eye squinting slightly as he places the name. It’s not a rare one, by any means, but seems to be one with some significance based on the way she drops it into the conversation. Again, not anybody he’s met, but Alex has at least heard of her. “Annie. Lives out Morrison way? I’d heard she’d moved back into town and had some friends with her.”

Sasha turns to check Alex’s aim, and Alex crouches to fetch the spent casing from his shot. You aren’t a Technocrat, are you? He’d been so close to setting the casing back on the counter, but the question was so unexpected that he fumbled it between his hands a couple of times before it fell back to the padded floor again. “What? Er, what’s that?” He straightens, sighing again before laughing a little to himself. Maybe there had been enough information dropped, enough hints that fit in with his knowledge of who has been coming and going, to make him relax a little. “Ah hell. No, I’m not Union, but I’m not exactly traditional either. You?”

Alex has no idea who or what Sasha might know about the other people in the city, but there is someone she’ll at least be aware of. A name he can offer in a way of offering confirmation of who he is – or isn’t – too. “How’s Callisto?”

Detective Black

[Not that she really needs it, but Per+Subterfuge]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 10, 10) ( success x 2 ) Re-rolls: 2

Detective Black

Annie. Lives out Morrison way?

Sasha nodded. For a moment she cast her eyes down to watch as Alexander fumbled with the shell casing, and if she found the sight of it amusing, she was at least polite enough to keep it to a light smile. She angled her face away from the cameras again when she responded.

"That's a tricky question to answer, considering what she is. She and I took a walk under the stars last week. I think she likes to watch the sky. And I'll tell you something, Alexander. If I'm in the Union, then you're pretty much screwed." Her tone stayed light, quietly wry in a way that felt a little incongruous to the seriousness of the subject matter. When she looked at him, she tilted her head lightly.

"Lucky for you, I'm not." She paused to consider what he'd said about Traditions. "You seem a bit old to be an Orphan. Surprised no one's snatched you up yet."

Officer Brandt

“Ah, crap.” Alexander turns to the range, leaning forward while resting both hands on the counter. “I’m still pretty new to all this, you know? I thought, because you knew...” Another sigh, no amusement lingering behind this one. More... resignation? There’s a shrug and he turns back, half-sitting on the counter which keeps his mouth conveniently out of sight of the closest camera. “And now do I take you at you word that you’re not, and spill all my secrets? Ah what the hell, I’m screwed either way if you are.”

Alexander rummages in a pocket and there’s there’s a split second, just a fraction of a moment, that seems to last longer than the one either side of it. A fragment of time where the air conditioning feels just a little more efficient than it did before.

“Tell me you’re not again.”

[Arete: Entropy 1, sensing lies (thanks Lavinia!). TN4]

Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (8) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Detective Black

[Awareness]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )

Detective Black

Sasha outranked him, in more ways than one. If she wished to withhold information, she probably could. But she didn't. And when Alex asked her again to tell him that she wasn't a technocrat, Sasha's expression grew calmly serious. There was weight to her words when she stepped forward, looked him in the eyes and said, "I am not with the Union."

Perhaps she knew what he was trying to do, but if so, she didn't try to hinder his effect. And the clarity of her words rang true in his head. Unless she had some hidden means of tricking his senses, she wasn't lying. Her eyes cast down to her hand, which she opened up for him to see. Tattooed onto her palm was an image of a spoked white wheel. "I have other affiliations." She dropped her hand back to her side.

"But you should know the reason why I asked. I saw one here about a week ago. Young. Maybe... twenty three. Male. Sandy hair. He was charming the hell out of the receptionist. I don't know why he was here, but they like to get their claws into law enforcement so... be careful who you trust."

Officer Brandt

Alexander meets her eyes. “Thank you. And I’m... sorry. I’m not very good at this.” No kidding. “I’ve been warned about them, but so far it’s all been very... theoretical. Hell, I’ve probably got more of an idea how to handle an unhappy spirit than I do the Union.”

The tattoo gets a glance, but it’s not particularly meaningful in itself. Oh, there had been other Mages in the city who the wheel would have had much more meaning for. He’d met one, once, but that hadn’t been a conversation to talk about such things. There had been an offer of help, but that had never been taken up. And now? Who knew where Eleanor was. It seems so many of them drift in and out of the city. “I don’t know what that means. I woke up last year. The guys in the city have been helping out some, but from the little I’ve seen of the Traditions? I’m not sure I fit in with them any better than they fit me.” There isn’t really any sadness or regret at that. It’s simply that he’s accepted that it’s the way things are. Others seem to do alright on their own. So why can’t he do the same?

He sinks a little more when Sasha tells him that she’d seen one. “Can they tell what we are? The same way we can spot each other? Do they feel... like things too?”

Detective Black

This wasn't really the place to have this sort of conversation. True, they had a reasonable degree of privacy at the moment, apart from the eyes of whoever happened to be manning the security booth (and let's face it, they were probably reading a magazine - not trying to read the lips of a couple of innocently chatting cops who had every right to be there.) But the knowledge of that surveillance was enough to make the place feel a little less than secure. And if someone - the Union, perhaps - did happen to want to spy on them, they certainly had their resources. Sasha didn't seem to think they were in danger at the moment, but it was enough to give her pause in answering Alexander's questions. She reached out and touched his arm lightly - a gesture of quiet reassurance. "You're doing fine. Better than most rookies I meet."

She paused a moment to mull over her answer. "They can. I'm not sure they're actually all that different from us, in some ways. It's more... what they believe. And what they do. The ones I've encountered have felt... very structured. But they're different from each other, the same way we are, so you can't ever really be sure. I wasn't sure at first, with the one I saw. It was more... how he was acting." She seemed as though she wanted to say something else, but she didn't. One would imagine that to be so sure, she had to have seen or sensed something more definitive, but whatever it was, she wasn't willing to talk about it here. After a moment's consideration, she fished her wallet out of her pocket, extracting a business card which she passed to Alex. It had her name and rank and department information on it, as well as a phone number for her desk.

"We should talk more. Why don't you come see me at Annie's place? In the meantime, if you need anything... call me." There was a beat before she added, "People like you... who don't feel they fit in with the Traditions. You're exactly the kind of person they like to recruit. That's why you need to be careful."

Officer Brandt

“Well I’m not dead yet, so I suppose that’s a start.” He snorts, but there’s a smile. “Not that there’s been a shortage of things trying to make that happen, but that’s another story for another time. Alex takes a deep breath, but he seems to inflate with it rather than it turning into another sigh. He may be out of his depth – again – and may have just completely screwed up if Sasha had been Union, but he was still here. And life and experience are, if nothing else, very effective teachers.

The card is taken, and one is offered in return. He considers scribbling one of the mobile numbers he has on the back, but he holds back just as he’s about to reach for a pen. He’s happy that she was telling the truth about not being Union – not unless she was able to mess with the effect, in which case he’s screwed anyway – but he still holds back. It’s something that ties back to him and, suddenly, it feels like he needs to ramp up the paranoia again. How the hell does anyone live like this? Maybe it’s why some drift away from the lives they had before waking up.

“I wasn’t sure about visiting once I heard you guys had moved in. It didn’t feel quite right, somehow. It’s your home. But... I will. Thank you.”

Alexander pushes back up from the counter, retrieving his gun. He moves his hand, examining the side without really paying attention to it. “Anything I can do to not be noticed if they come back? Other than not ramming my foot squarely in my mouth again.”

Detective Black

"There are ways of hiding, but it might be beyond your ability. In the meantime, I'd suggest avoiding strangers in suits who act like FBI and feel like one of us. Especially if they're wearing sunglasses." Shasha slipped Alexander's card into her wallet and returned it to the back pocket of her jeans. They'd been speaking of fairly serious matters, but if she had anything else to say, she saved it for another time (and a safer place.)

"Now, let's see how well you shoot, Officer Brandt." Sasha smiled and picked up her gun, stepping over to the lane beside Alexander's. She'd come her to practice, after all. And she wasn't going to let the thought of a nosy Technocrat deter her from the task.

Officer Brandt

There’s another snort of amusement. “Now there’s something I never get tired of hearing. One day.” One day, he might finally get the understanding that has been coming to several of the others. One day. If he lasts that long.

“Oh, shooting I can do.” Alex turns back to the range, checking his pistol again. “Best of three, winner makes coffee?” Safety flicked off, he takes aim again and starts to drown himself in the flow that comes with the practiced movements.

Do any of us really know anyone?

Alexander

[Arete, sensing Time. TN 4, taking time -1, target 2 successes]

Dice: 1 d10 TN3 (6) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Alexander

Washington Park: home to the beginnings, middles and ends of stories. Chance encounters and purposeful introductions sparking new friendships and relationships, or maybe bringing them to an end. People pass through on their way to other auspicious – or hopeless – places and people. Sometimes, though, it is simply a place to be.

Everyone needs to be somewhere, and Wash Park is where Alexander is once again found. The clear skies, bright sunshine and warmth have brought him outdoors again. Although, honestly, driving snow and wind isn’t all that likely to keep him cooped up indoors when he wants to get out. But this is a good day to relax, rather than throw himself against nature. He doesn’t have anywhere to be – no work today, no errands to run, no monsters to track down. Oh, there are things that need to be taken care of. But beyond putting what he’d managed to dig up at a certain campsite out on Ginger and seeing what help could be garnered from others in the city, he’s at a little bit of a loose end.

And so here he is, lying on the grass by a lake. Cargo shorts and a tshirt cover him, with boots and a shirt sat on the grass next time him. His lower legs are in the water, slight waves occasionally submerging the parts that aren’t already covered. He’s watching the sky. The afternoon sun is still high in the sky and it’ll be a few hours yet before it starts to get close to the horizon, replacing the vibrant blue of the sky with deeper oranges and reds. Time to pass. Time to feel. And he does feel. To those attuned to such things, Alex has created an effect that lets him do just that. Just like the water flowing and lapping at his legs, he’s feeling the flow of time as it passes by.

Ian

[Awareness]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 6, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Ian

There was a time in Ian's life when spending a Friday night alone in the park would have seemed... well, like a waste of a Friday. And maybe later he would find something (or someone) to occupy himself with, but right now he wasn't thinking about that. Not long ago, he'd been sitting on a bench near one of the flower gardens with his knee tucked up to his chest, just... watching. Listening. Feeling the warm breeze play against his skin. But then he felt a little stir of winter - subtle and prickling just at the edge of his awareness - and after a while he abandoned his bench in favor of the lake, making his way toward the shore at a slow, relaxed gait.

Inevitably, Alexander would find his solitary moment interrupted by the dawning awareness of a steadily encroaching animal. Ian came up behind him, paused a moment, then sat down in the grass at Alexander's side. He had boots on, so he folded his legs rather than trailing his feet into the water (for now.)

"The lake's pretty today," he observed quietly, gazing out across the rolling water at the sun's golden reflection.

Alexander

[Awareness?]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 7) ( success x 1 )

Alexander

[Alertness?]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 6, 6, 7, 8) ( success x 4 )

Alexander

Alexander isn’t lost in sensation today. That last time, with Kalen, hadn’t exactly ended well. Hell, he still needed to track down Kalen to work out what the hell had happened. And maybe to apologise to him. But wasn’t a little paranoia good for survival?

Either way, Alexander is aware of what’s going on around him. The approach of a certain resonance is a stealthy thing, prowling through the grass as it approaches the Frozen water near the lake. It’s there though, and it’s enough to tug at Alexander’s attention, though, and he looks around at his surroundings. The lake, with some ducks drifting by. A couple of people running along one of the tracks. Ian. He feels different – deeper and more complex, just like Grace and Kiara and Elijah and... Well, nearly all of the Awakened that he knows, really. They’ve all changed, gotten some kind of closer relationship with reality.

He can’t help wonder when his turn will be.

But it’s a passing thought, and he goes back to watching the water once he’s picked up on Ian’s approach. He doesn’t leap away, ready to protect himself, when Ian sits. Alexander stays, comfortable that there isn’t any immediate risk of strange occurrences.

Alex takes a deep breath, smiling a little, when Ian speaks. “It is a beautiful day.” He looks across at Ian, adding, “You’ve changed.”

Ian

Alexander could have meant that in any number of ways, and all of them would have been true. Though Ian was not so changed as to be unrecognizable. Unlike Kalen, he hadn't undergone any dramatic mystical transformation. He'd just sought out (and found) a deeper piece of himself. In more ways than one.

"People do that, it seems." Ian turned his eyes toward Alexander's face, squinting just a little against the glare of the sun. "I can leave, if you want me to." He left a beat of silence there, giving Alexander a chance to tell him if the company was unwelcome. "I saw the message you left on Ginger."

There was always something, wasn't there? Some threat or concern or new piece of business to be discussed. It almost felt like an insult to the beauty of their surroundings.

Alexander

“Up to you. If I’d wanted to be alone, I wouldn’t have picked a park to sit in. Especially not this park.” He smiles, adding the humour that lies behind the comment. “Although given how often we just ‘happen’ to run into each other, I wouldn’t be entirely surprised to have Kalen and Grace appear with a picnic if I was sat on the top of a mountain.”

The smile and the humour fade as Ian asks about the message on Ginger. “Yeah. Skye didn’t want to bother anyone with his problems, but I think he’s gotten to the point where he knows he needs help to sort things out with Claire.”

It could almost sound like any other regular conversation about a couple having relationship issues.

“And I still have no idea what created those animals. I don’t suppose the symbols meant anything to you?”

Ian

There was a brief smile when Alexander mentioned Grace and Kalen and the notion of a surprise picnic on a mountaintop. It faded though, more of an echo than a real smile. He sighed when Alex mentioned Skye - this soft, almost defeated sound - and looked away toward the water.

"No. Not really my area of expertise." Ian hesitated before asking his next question. "Was he okay? I tried to call him, but I just got his voicemail. Probably shitty reception."

Alexander

Alexander’s attention is back on the water – or maybe on something else fluid – as he sighs. “Worth a try. Maybe the others will find something.”

“He’s...” There’s a pause, a moment of contemplation. Maybe a search for the right words, the right way to put something. “Disconnected, I guess. He’s been beating himself up about what happened to Claire, blaming himself for it. I don’t think he’s had much to do with other people since she went missing.”

There’s another moment of consideration, but of Ian this time. Alexander watches him, curious. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d asked Ian about Skye and been told that he hadn’t seen him in a while. That he’d just been a guy that Ian had slept with. It might have been puzzling at the time, given what they’d gone through to find the guy, but Ian wasn’t easy to read. And Alexander and Ian weren’t exactly close, for that line of questioning to really carry on.

“Lousy reception, or a dead phone, or a changed number. I swapped numbers with him, if you want it. Just in case.”

[Per+Empathy – what’s going on with yooou?]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6, 6) ( success x 2 )

Ian

[Oh, are you trying to figure me out? Subterfuge]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 5 ) Re-rolls: 1

Ian

Sometimes there were things that Ian let slip through. He wasn't always cold; detached. Often there seemed this gossamer-thin slide of emotion that never fully manifested in his expression - enough to hint at some inner thoughts without giving away the truth of the story. Perhaps it was a defense-mechanism (too ingrained to really shed) or perhaps he was just naturally difficult to read. Either way, there were no answers in Ian's eyes when Alexander looked at him. Just this calm, murky darkness.

He looked over when Alexander offered Skye's number. After a moment, he nodded quietly.

"Yeah, I should make sure mine's still current." He slipped his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts to find Skye's number, offering it to Alexander to compare. As though they were talking about any ordinary contact who'd just gone off the grid for a while. As though their lives weren't mired in ghosts and corpses.

But then he said, "You probably think I'm an asshole. For Skye. For a lot of things. I guess you're not wrong."

Alexander

Alexander keeps studying Ian while he searches for his phone, but there’s just nothing slipping through Ian’s self control. Whatever Alex is going to find out is going to have to be offered by Ian. Alex unearths his own phone, though. The one that could easily be tossed into a fire, if it ever became necessary. The one that doesn’t get used for his mundane life. Finding the new contact entry for Skye (no surname listed), the numbers match up.

“As I said, he’s kinda disconnected from people at the moment. He thinks we all have enough of our own crap to deal with to help out with his, especially as we don’t know him and he doesn’t know us. He... thought that you’d already done enough to help him.” There’s another shrug, as if to say that he doesn’t know whether that’s true or not. Because he doesn’t. The conversation with Skye about Ian was even less detailed than the one he’d had with Ian about Skye.

The temptation to ask is sidetracked when Ian continues. Surprise crosses Alex’s face, at the bluntness of the statement. “I...”

It wasn’t a conversation he’d ever expected to have with Ian, so his thoughts took some time to order themselves enough to come to a response. His gaze returns to the water as he thinks. “I did, when we first met. I thought you were playing games with me, and I didn’t like that. I don’t know, but only because I don’t know you. Not really. I don’t know what happened between you and Skye. But who the hell am I to judge, anyway.”

Alexander turns to watch Ian again. A question rises and escapes, before Alex can decide if he should ask or not. “Does anyone really know you?”

Ian

Sera had said something similar to him once. She'd been more blunt. More confrontational.

Ian grew quiet at the question.

"Do any of us really know anyone?" It was a rather grim thing to say, and perhaps not the kind of thing that Alex would find comforting. Ian seemed about to say something else, but then he just looked away. Something changed in his eyes, this slow etching of expression. Tendrils of some abyssal sadness creeping in around the edges. It wasn't dramatic, but it was there. He unfolded his legs and brought his knees to his chest, draping an arm over them.

"I don't like it when people assume I owe them answers. But I was a dick that night, and for what it's worth I'm sorry." He let his gaze turn back, watching Alex in this reserved, careful way. "Do you want to know me?"

Alexander

Do any of us really know anyone?

It’s Alexander’s turn to grow quiet again, studying the water again. To feel the bite of second after second after second as he thinks of his answer, feeling the moments pass by to be caught up and frozen in time. He thinks of the people he knows here, of the people who know him. Hell, of the people he thought he knew so well a lifetime ago. Do they really know each other? Some know more, others know less. Nobody in his ordinary life – the beat cop, living out the clichéd ideal of serving the public – knows anything about his Awakened life. The Awakened that he knows, those he keeps his ordinary life away from – because it’s easier for them – for him – to do what needs to be done without worrying about what unAwakened justice would end in. What other attention would be attracted.

“No. I guess we don’t.” It suddenly didn’t feel quite so warm by the lake. The temperature hadn’t changed, but maybe there was more of a suggestion of a drop towards freezing that there had been just a few minutes earlier.

“I don’t think you owe me anything, least of all answers. Not unless what you do affects me, anyway. It’s your life. And it’s ok. That night, I mean. I gave up thinking it was anything personal a long time ago.”

Alex closes his eyes, legs still in the water of the lake and the wash of time ebbing and flowing over the rest of him. It seems that he’s spent more time recently pulling apart the pieces of the universe that are within his reach. Thinking about where they had all come from and where they were headed. Big questions, for sure. But... important ones? Maybe all that really mattered what where and when they were. This place, this moment.

He turns his head to Ian before his eyes open. There might have been ice there, coldness numbing him from what was around him. There had been before. There probably will be again. He’d been compared to a comet before. Perhaps this is the ice just starting to burn off.

“If you want to know me.”

Ian

Ian smiled a little, tipping his head in this way that felt contemplative. "I haven't decided yet." The tone of his voice was lower, softer and a little resonant. There was subtext to it, but if Alexander didn't notice it, he might at least notice the way that Ian's eyes lingered on him.

"There are different ways of knowing people, but I'm only really good at one of them."

He didn't make any move toward Alexander though. Perhaps he'd already decided that it wouldn't be welcome if he tried. Instead he said, "I suppose I could try and manage an actual conversation one of these days."

(They were having an actual conversation now.)

Ian's expression grew heavier for a moment. "I think I need to go talk to Skye. Can you tell me where you found him?"

Alexander

In some ways Alexander has hardened since his time in the city. Since he Woke Up with capital letters. Given what their kind are prone to running into and fighting against – monsters, people who are worse than the monsters – that’s hardly surprising. But he’s softened a little too. He doesn’t pull away from physical contact, even offers it when he thinks it’s needed. That doesn’t mean that he’s hugging strangers, but he’s not as distant with people he at least knows a little. Or maybe just knows will be there when things hit the fan. Some things, though, are a little too far. Things like Ian’s usual way of ‘getting to know’ people.

But he can at least joke about it, and his tone is lighter. “You are so not getting into my boxers. But conversation I can do. I think it was... Did you ever meet Alyssa? She had lots of useful advice. A lot was how to tell the more uptight members of the traditions about what it would be appropriate for them to sit on before rotating at speed. And something about alcohol being a good way to bond too.” He smiles, a warm memory in his mind. A memory that brings Sid to mind, a curiosity about where she might be. How she’s doing. “Do you sing?”

Alex lies back again on the grass, waving his feet gently in the water. Mud from the bottom is stirred up, drifting and settling back down again. “Reynolds Park, but I doubt you’ll find him there. He was too worried about the possibility of werewolves. That, and I’m not sure it was actually Claire he’d managed to track there anyway. Whatever had her feels like decay, this was more like... contamination.”

“You asked what I can do. That first night. Do you still want to know?”

Ian

"Boxers? Man, you really are straight." There was an equally teasing tone in Ian's response. "I've met Alyssa. We hit it off about as well as you and I did." Whatever had gone down between the two of them, though, it didn't seem he'd taken it personally.

Do you sing?

Ian raised his eyebrows at that, smirking quietly. "Once in a while." (This was a somewhat misleading answer, though not precisely untrue - at least not these days.)

Skye was worried about werewolves, and something about the mention of them made Ian's eyebrows draw tight. Made him remember that night he'd met Sabine by the fountain - though he would never think to describe her as wolfish. (No, she'd been rather a lot more like him.) "Well, I'll see if I can track him down. I suppose worst case scenario I can ask Grace to help."

Do you still want to know?

Ian was slower to answer that, less out of reluctance than because he felt the subject deserved a thoughtful response. That kind of sharing, whether through words or experience, was intimate to him. "Yes. But... I really can't stay. Another day, maybe?"

Alexander

“Hey, they’re comfortable! And lace chafes.” Alex laughs a little. “And, just to clarify, I have never worn lace underwear. Anyway, I was introduced to Karaoke not so long ago. I haven’t been...” Since Sid disappeared. “...in a while, but if you fancy it sometime..?”

He leaves the offer hanging. He doesn’t know if that’s really Ian’s idea of fun, but then he hadn’t thought it could be fun before he gave it a try. Never say never, right?

“If I bump into him again, I’ll tell him that you’re trying to get in touch. He was talking about going to California to get some help, but I think he’s happy to hang around for a bit longer to see what we can come up with. I was actually wondering if Grace would be able to help Skye track down Claire. He said that wasn’t really his thing – he was better at sorting things out once they had been found.”

The pause in the answer catches Alexander’s attention, and he wonders what’s up. Ian had already apologised for being a dick that night, was it an unwanted reminder? Was it something personal that he didn’t like to share? Was it..? Yes.

“Sure. Another day. And I would be interested to see yours too.“ Alex smiles. “Way of working, that is. I’m still figuring a lot of this out. Most of what I’ve seen from the more traditional guys doesn’t really resonate with me, so I’m curious how you see things. If you don’t mind sharing.” He’s asking, but there’s no expectation. Because it’s still not clear to him if this is something Ian is happy to share, especially with someone who’s barely more than a stranger. A stranger he fought beside – twice – to bring down monsters. But still a stranger.

Ian

Ian had shared his senses twice since coming to Denver. Once with Elijah just before they'd done something they could have gotten arrested for in a public park. And once with Kalen, because Kalen had asked to know how Ian practiced Life magick. The latter had arguably been one of the most intimate experiences he and Kalen had shared. The look on Ian's face when Alex suggested they try it was... complicated and difficult to gauge.

"We'll see how things go."

This was probably the closest Alexander was likely to get to a positive response on that subject (at least, at the moment.) Ian got to his feet, brushing a few stray bits of grass from his jeans. Before he turned to go, he suddenly stopped, as though remembering something. "Oh, I don't have your number." So he pulled out his phone again and went to add Alex into his contacts (assuming Alex was willing to give him that information.) "I usually have to be a little drunk to do karaoke, but it might be worth it to see you sing." He winked there, and maybe there was a bit of a challenge in it.

"It's good I ran into you. Have fun watching the sun set." Ian gave the picturesque landscape one final glance before turning and making his way back the direction he'd come, eventually disappearing down the trail.

And please don't shoot my friend

Grace

The Office is not an imposing structure, nor is the Warehouse that sits beside it. The Warehouse sports old, flaking paint on the outside that vaguely resembles the shape of a cow. Maybe this was an old dairy at some point in its lifespan? Call it camouflage. No defunct dairy would be protected with steel doors and biometric locks.

The invitation has been sent, multiple times. Samir, come to the Office. Samir, I have presents for you. At first glance, the place might be... dare we say it... disappointing?

Alexander

[Awareness?]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )

Samir

Sam has the uncanny ability to ignore his phone and his email inbox if the phone or email inbox require a response that would have him leaving the apartment to do anything other than collect money from someone to whom he was delivering illicit substances.

To be fair he has only been known to a few of the city's Awakened population for about a week now but in that week he has ignored shit knows how many invitations. It finally reached the point where he had to respond.

He didn't respond though. He just showed up. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Except for in order to rip off the Band-Aid he had to check the windows and the faucets and the stove x number of times and the less said about what he has to do to even walk through the door the better.

So he just showed up and now he has to find the entrance to this dungeon. He's already regretting this decision. And when Alexander shows up the first thing he feels is something piercing. Something piercing and Mind magic.

Grace

[Awareness Too!]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 4, 8) ( success x 1 )

Samir

[ah fuck it. awareness.]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 7, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Alexander

Alexander isn’t a stranger to the Office or the Warehouse. He may not frequent the library as much as others, but he makes up for that with the time he spends in the firing range. Yes, there’s a firing range. And that’s not even the most impressive part about the complex.

He’s only just arriving, though, after some hesitation at the gates. He spends time reaching out for the awareness of who else might be around. There’s one that he’s looking for and another that he’s looking to avoid for the moment. Someone who has changed way too much in a very short period. There is someone else noted, though. Someone new. Always someone new.

The coast is clear, though, and Grace is in! So the sound of a motorbike idling a short distance away is replaced with the roar of an engine as he finishes his approach. A blue sports bike parks up close to the entrance to the office, and a helmeted figure in biker leathers gets off.

Samir

At the sound of the motorbike the newcomer stops what he's doing and turns to look.

Said newcomer stands of average height for a western male and is darkly complected. His hair is black and long enough that he can tie it into a knot at the nape of his neck and he has no other distinguishing features. He's handsome, maybe, but he also fades from memory so quickly that even the government doesn't have much in the way of memory of him.

In this moment though he feels like a needle in the second it stabs into a vein. That kind of sharpness. Like the gaze of an overly perceptive stranger.

And he looks like he wants to bolt when he hears the engine. The best way to describe his fashion sense is "punk-bohemian." A leather jacket overtop otherwise nondescript clothing. His hands are in his pockets. He has found the front door but he is holding off on announcing his presence until he sorts out who the fellow on the bike is.

Grace

Somebody's not expecting visitors. Here's the thing about Mages, right? They do as they like. And that includes showing up without warning. It's not much of a shock that neither Alex or Sam bothered to let anybody know they were dropping by, it just means Grace is woefully unprepared for the prospect of people.

Right at the moment, she only vaguely notices the presence of something cold, and this being almost Summer, that's enough to prick the ears and go 'huh?' at. The motorcycle arriving and stopping makes it more obvious who that is.

Fucking Hell, she thinks, looking down at her hands, covered in long yellow gloves. Somebody has to clean things, and in the spirit of mutual cooperation and shit, they have a rotation going on in the place. It's just fantastic to get visitors while you're scrubbing a toilet, no?

On the other hand, this is a good excuse to quit.

She gets up, stows away the brush, doffs the gloves in the sink. The bathroom is a mess of cleaning products, so hopefully nobody needs to take a piss.

Alex can just deal.

With that done, she goes to open the door. He probably doesn't need it -- hadn't Kalen made sure the door recognizes him? But just in case...

Alexander

Alexander has no illusions that he’s as close to the comings and goings of the Awakened in the city. Maybe it’s his efforts to retain his ‘normal’ life that pull him a touch further away from the usual storms of chance that pull them together and throw them apart again. There are some in the city that he just hasn’t really crossed paths with much. Maybe that will change. Maybe it won’t.

Either way, there’s a new face – and a new resonance to go with it – lurking outside one of their meeting places. It’s not obvious whether he’s here by invitation or chance or for some malicious intent. His helmeted head cocks to the side, the only display of puzzlement through the darkened visor, and a muffled voice says, “Hi.”

Alex, by the way, is not a small man. Tall, broad, dressed in biker gear and with his head masked, he may well come across as an imposing figure. And those who pay attention to such things might note the aura of cold around him. Something timeless, Frozen in the heart of the comet.

Samir

"Uh..."

This fellow in the bike helmet is if not One of Them then at least capable of tweaking the fabrics of the Tapestry. He may or may not be freaking out the newcomer but the newcomer doesn't have a stellar track record insofar as convincing other people that he isn't constantly freaked out goes. If this is a Fallen or a Marauder he'll figure it out sooner rather than later.

Sam points to an area somewhere near his temple. He isn't wearing a helmet so when he frowns Alexander can see it.

"I don't..." I can't see your face dude help me out here. And then he realizes he's not responding appropriately and puts his hand back in his pocket. "Hi."

Grace

Grace comes to save the day from awkward greetings by opening the door. Alex is there, as expected. Someone else is with him, who isn't.

"Alex, hey, what's up? Come in," she says, opening the door wider, and giving the other guy a quizzical look. "This a friend of yours?"

No, wait... That guy is familiar, isn't he?

"Oh, hey! You're that guy from the pho place! With the emails! I remember now."

Alexander

First encounters don’t always go smoothly. Sometimes it’s like old friends – who knows, even friends from past lives – reuniting and hitting it off like they had always known each other. This isn’t one of those times. This time, there’s caution. Distance. Barriers. Things that ward off connection, unless some way is found to breach them.

It’s either surprising or fitting that Grace is the one to start those connections forming. Given her choice of Tradition, it could possibly be considered poetic. Assuming any of them had a poetic heart to consider it.

Alexander hadn’t made any attempt to be overtly threatening, but he hadn’t done anything to lessen the threat that his size and presence and anonymity created. He noted the head-tapping but didn’t do anything about it. He’s about to ask something when the door opens – the visor turning to see who was emerging.

“You know this guy? He ok?” One interesting question would be who of the two of them would be best suited for taking care of an unwelcome visitor. They each have their own skills and approaches for dealing with problems.

Samir

Grace recognizes him after a time. He knew she would have trouble. He said so in the first email he ever wrote her. She remembered him in text but in person is a different fucking story. In person he would prefer not to exist. In person he is stuck inside his own head. In text the entire world is open to him.

That doesn't mean it doesn't jolt him when Alexander refers to him like he isn't standing right there. They can both see it jolt him. Excuse me? writes itself across his face though he doesn't voice it. He doesn't voice anything. He can actually understand where the man wearing the bike helmet is coming from. He waits for Grace to respond anyway.

Grace

"He's ok, yeah. Samir. I told him he could come by and meet the robots," she says, to Alex.

"Samir, this is Alex. He's a friend." And a cop. But also, unlikely enough, a friend.

"You guys want uh... coffee? There's also waffles. Listen, I don't want to sit here with the door hanging open because Pomegranate likes to bolt for the outside and then cries when she can't get back in."

Alexander

He’s a friend. There’s a one-shouldered shrug and the leathered figure moves to remove the helmet. Like the others present, he does have a slight tendency to slide from notice or memory. Maybe not as much as they do, but he does tend to blend in with a crowd more easily than most. When the helmet does come off, they might notice some bruising around his face. It doesn’t seem to be anything that’s bothering him, though.

“Sorry about that. Hi, Samir. Alexander.” Sorry Grace, that stick is still up his ass about that one. He pulls the glove off his right hand and offers it in greeting. “I wasn’t sure if you were meant to be here or not.”

Grace offers coffee. “I’d love some, but this is a bit of a flying visit. I wanted to ask you about that text message you sent.” Which one? The one about Kalen, who he’s deliberately not mentioning because he doesn’t know how much or little Samir know about the people in the city. “You’re sure he’s… Not a clone? Or anything else funky? Because that man I saw in the park really didn’t feel like him.”

Samir

Nothing overt in his desire not to shake Alexander's hand but there is hesitation. Like he has to gauge the social implications of not doing so and weigh it against his own discomfort and Samir can't lie for shit so they can both see he is uncomfortable for a second before forcing a smile and putting out his right hand to grasp the bigger man's.

"No problem," he says. Note the accent: he's Canadian. Or learned to speak English in Canada. "Sorry to show up unannounced."

And then the offer of coffee and the text message Grace sent and someone may or may not be a clone and Sam is frowning but not interrupting. Fidgeting a bit. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other and tries to fight the urge to check his phone but fails the more Alexander talks. Okay. He's been here four minutes. Fuck.

Grace

Neither of them are getting the hint that Grace Evans is not a doorstop, so she steps outside and shuts the door behind her. She wasn't lying about the cat being catlike and indecisive about what constitutes her territory.

"Right," Grace says, looking at Alex. "I've told you about Seekings before. When I have had them, I change, but not everything. Kalen is different. The connection he has? His Avatar? It's a thing of changes. Metamorphosis. When he goes to find himself, he is another person each time. He told me that once, a long time ago. Now, when I first saw him after, you know, I thought the same as you. But he hasn't been not-Kalen, and his memories check out. You can stay away from him if you think it's wise, but personally, that would be kind of sad. You know?"

She keeps eye contact as she talks -- rare for Grace. But it can get uncomfortable, with how she can stare a hole into you. There's a sigh, and then she looks to Samir. "Don't worry about the unannouncing. I don't care. Gave me an excuse to stop cleaning the bathroom."

Samir

For what it's worth Sam did not go inside because Alexander did not go inside. Some sort of cultural thing or he's nervous or he thought he had more than a few seconds to decide whether he was going inside or fucking it and leaving.

"Why would you want to stop cleaning the bathroom?"

It sounds like he's joking. Maybe he is joking. Neither of them know him enough to say whether he's joking for real or joking in a self-depreciating way of joking or just not joking at all. It sounds like he's joking though. Nobody actually likes cleaning the bathroom.

Alexander

Alexander wasn’t planning on staying, so heading in seems rather pointless when he’s going to be leaving again in the next few minutes.

He does nod thoughtfully as Grace explains Seekings again. It wasn’t exactly that he was unfamiliar with people changing. He knows several people who have grown after Seekings. But it had always been the case that it was a growth – the way they felt deepened and became more complex. Kalen was the first who had completely replaced what he was with something else, regardless of whether he’d chosen it or it had happened to him.

“I won’t shoot him when I see him then.” Alex grins a little, but a little awkwardly. “Naah, I’ll talk to him. I think that maybe the circumstances weren’t the best for finding out that it had happened to him, you know?”

Alex looks to Samir, after almost forgetting that he was standing there. “Sorry to interrupt. If you’re here for the grand tour then I can leave you guys to get on with it. I still want to see mecha-Gamera, though, Grace. Next time, though.”

Grace

She rolls her eyes at Samir. "I know, right? Pinnacle of human endeavors, cleaning the bathroom. So pleasant and enjoyable. Wouldn't want to ever stop..."

"And please don't shoot my friend, Alex," Grace says, rubs her eyes. "I'd have to shoot you back, and the blood would get everywhere. Talking to him sounds like a great idea, yeah."

Okay, so, with Alex on his way out, this leaves Samir, and getting him through the door. Grace turns around, puts her finger on the print scanner and heaves the door open again with a crunch of machinery noise.

Samir

So much talk of shooting. Sam definitely looks uncomfortable now. Some combination of meeting people in the meatspace and this occurring outside of his already slim comfort zone and the helmet and fuck. He puts on a tight smile and lifts his hand to give a likewise tight farewell wave to Alexander and then there goes the print scanner.

"Nice to meet you," says the voice belonging to the man Alexander won't be able to recognize later.

Okay. Inside. Yes. Good.

Alexander

“Hey, I’d only shoot him for a really good reason! I’m happy to just throw stuff at him when he’s being his usual dense self. If you bump into him, tell him I’ll be in touch.”

To Samir, “Nice to meet you too. Sorry if I scared you and all. And… I really don’t go around shooting people.” Well, not unless they’re mad cannibalistic Adepts. Or spirit-possessed-and-corrupted human hosts. Or they shoot first. But those things don’t really need to be said. “Enjoy the tour!”

Alex throws them a wave before returning to his bike, to disappear to do whatever it is he needs to be doing. Probably not shooting people.

Samir

Vague hand gestures that indicate oh no you didn't scare me okay you did scare me I'm a shitty liar I'm pretending to be cool with this entire thing yeah okay great bye in the slow span of about three seconds before he plunges it back into his pocket and follows Grace inside. Harder to get shot if you're inside. Hypothetically. Statistically you're more likely to get shot inside than outside but Sam hasn't got much use for statistics.

Grace

Inside, Samir will find the place decorated to an eccentric Hermetic's taste. It looks different on the inside, with walls painted in jewel-hues, and expensive wooden furniture. There is a Bengal cat staring at the door, pissed off that it's closed again, and not at all concerned about the New Person. She flicks her tail and walks off in disgust, the way cats do when they've had their plans stymied.

"So yeah, this is the place. I work here, and only technically live in my apartment, you know? It's nice here. More secure than any apartment at least. Had a... bad experience at my actual living space with some witch-hunting pieces of shit, and this place has nice comfy couches. Speaking of which, you are welcome to crash here if you need a place that's safe."

Grace talks and talks, and also starts making her way up the stairs without paying much attention to Samir. He can follow, or he can wander around. You get the impression that basically anything goes with her.

"Kalen's my 'business partner', he works here, and his apprentice Elijah lives here. We get others from time to time too. We have a gun range in the Warehouse next door, a laser-tag arena, a library in dead tree and digital form, some servers because Kalen was certain we needed multiples of them so that they would have other machines to talk to when they got lonely... You met him right?"

Save who?

Nightmare

Our Scene Guidelines (like we do)

1. I feel like post time limits in one-on-one scenes are ridiculous. Post when you have a post done.

2. There is very low physical risk in this scene. (I expect zero, but IDK, maybe you'll fall into a ravine?) I can't imagine how you would die in this scene, but even if you somehow find a way to do serious bodily harm, this scene is non-lethal.

3. This scene might cause some psychological trauma.

4. If there are any things you really don't want to see in a scene, you should maybe tell me. [I don't recall you having much for concerns in that regard, but it's been awhile.]

5. If you would remind me about Merits/Flaws, that would be awesome. [Again, it's been awhile.]

Alexander

[The player doesn't have any particular squicks to avoid. Alexander has Concentration, Light Sleeper and Concentration.]

Alexander

To the east of Denver lie miles and miles of uninspiring, unimpressive landscape where only an occasional road or town or farm breaks up the monotony. There isn’t usually much in that direction, beyond the long, open roads and scarce highway patrols that allow him to push his motorbike to its limits, that attracts Alexander too far in that direction. No, there are far more interesting places to go and to be and to explore.

The mountains bring foothills, and the two of them together bring canyons and peaks and forests and lakes and... And the wilderness. Not the tamed and captive and safe parks that the city contains, for those city dwellers who don’t believe in getting their SUV muddy or getting too close to nature (i.e., bugs). The wild. Nature spreading and growing and dying and decaying as it will. The Rangers are there to protect the land and its occupants from people, rather than the other way around.

But Alex isn’t any great stranger to being here. This may not be the Cascade range that he’d grown to know before his old life ended and the new one began, but it makes it all the more interesting having new places to explore. So here he is, very much off the beaten track somewhere in Reynolds Park. Well-worn walking boots sink into the soft earth, still wet from the regular rains that the changing seasons bring to the area. Mud streaks the bottom of his trousers. A rucksack hangs off his shoulders, containing the bulk of his cold and wet weather gear because, right now, it’s actually quite pleasant out. There’s a breeze but it’s otherwise warm, with the sun beating down from a blue sky dotted with the occasional high-altitude cloud.

Where he’s going? Nowhere in particular. That way. That looks interesting.

Alexander

[Perr+Aware}

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 6, 7) ( success x 2 )

Alexander

[Per+Alert]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )

Nightmare

Alexander has grown accustomed to the sounds of these new mountains, and the forest he's walking through seems to have caught its breath. Birds are softer, there is the sound of fewer small feet in branches and in brush. The wind carries the scent of decay; not close to hand, not yet at least. And now Alexander begins to catch the feeling of magic, cold, dead magic. The imprint of fear, sharp and clawing at his stomach, as though whatever part of him can sense this would tear itself free of his body to run. And, overshadowed by that but not entirely hidden, there is a somewhat familiar sense of sunlight and oak and rich earth.

Alexander

Alexander shivers suddenly, unexpectedly, and skids and slips and slides to an abrupt halt. It’s almost as if someone had walked over his grave, only it’s not his. He doesn’t have one – not yet or that he knows of, at least – but there’s still that feeling of something having passed on. What happens to magic when it dies? Does it just fade away? Wait to be resurrected and reworked and reborn into something new? Or does it linger and slumber and see out eternity in stasis? Whatever it is, it’s possibly more that he’s starting to walk over the grave of something long dead.

And whatever it is, it’s out there somewhere. Something new (and old!) and strange, and something with a sense of the familiar but not yet clear enough to trigger any particular memory or reaction. There’s a fear pulling, tearing, bordering on the desperate to escape. It’s... a strange feeling, but a new one. As if the part of him that Awakened has a thing about graveyards and wants to steer well away.

But he’s dealt with the dead before. It hasn’t often been pleasant, but it has more often been rewarding. It’s also something that he’s wanted to learn more about. With the disappearance of Lucy and Alyssa, the number of people who he has to ask about that kind of thing has thinned out. And so it’s back to what works for him best: To do and to experience and to learn the hard, and sometimes painful, way. He holds still for a moment, one hand resting on the trunk of a tree as he freezes and tries to feel where this curious new thing is coming from. Before Alex heads off, though, he slips the bag off one shoulder so that he can dig around in one of the pockets for a mirror. He isn’t trying to see the other side of the Gauntlet – not yet, anyway – but he can at least see if his extra sense can focus on what’s going on and where it might be.

[Arete: sensing spirits, sensing decay. TN 4, -1 taking time, 2 succs to last the scene]

Dice: 1 d10 TN3 (8) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Nightmare

Alexander can sense decay, off in the same direction from which he can smell it. He cannot see a ghost, but now he can hear crying. And the echoes of screams that do not fade away - terror and grief and rage commingled into one horrible scream that lingers in the memory of the shadows in another world not so far separated from his own.

Alexander

Alexander turns on the spot until he’s facing towards the smell of decay, the sense of things coming apart as the eternal wash of entropy grinds it to nothingness. He holds where he is, though, thinking. There are echoes in the wind now, screams and cries that weren’t there before he expanded his awareness beyond the merely physical. The screams mirror the sense of terror that the other, indefinable part of him fears. There’s something there and it’s something wrong and he really should be trying to get away from it before it notices that he’s there.

But amongst the fear and rage are... tears? Crying. Someone else, someone alone? There’s only the one voice crying buried in the screams. Alone, then. Alexander may not be the same as Lucy – there to guide the dead to their rest – but, then, he is what he is. And part of that is to try to help the weak and lonely and scared. Arionna had said that so many of them had hero complexes. Maybe that is what pushes him into walking towards whatever it is that so many things are screaming to run away from. Maybe it’s a desire – a need? – for that solo crying voice to stop feeling afraid and alone.

Whatever the reason, he moves towards it. He’s slow, though, and cautious. Because however stupid an idea it might turn out to be, especially given all the warnings Alyssa had tried to beat into him about spirits being dangerous, he isn’t inexperienced in approaching risk.

Nightmare

It isn't far. It isn't hard to find.

Alexander crests a slight rise and finds himself overlooking the remains of a campsite. There is -or at least was- a tent. Its wreckage is a roughly ten foot long tangle of shredded fabric and broken poles. In the trees and brush that ring the clearing, little scraps of fabric, no few blood-soaked, flutter in the breeze like the frantic wing beats of a bird that cannot take flight.

The campfire shows signs of disturbance, charred bits of wood lying apart from the ashes. Tiny flames quickly spent on the rocks and bare earth that surrounded the fire.

To one side of the clearing, not far from the remains of the tent, lies a large, misshapen feline creature. It is perfectly still; and, remarkable considering that Alexander can hear the steady drone of insects nearby, the air around it is nearly so still as the creature. Nearby that, a heavy section of wood, just shy of being called a log. One end charred to ash, signs of flame down much of the length. All around that spot, disturbed earth.

And a bit farther out, half-shadowed by trees is a human figure. Live, judging by how the form is crouched up on a rock in a way that suggests balance. The cold, dead magic and the fear that seems to have settled under his skin now and the sunlight are all strongest in that direction. Alexander only met Skye the one time, and that not for long, but the person he sees through the trees could be Skye.

The sound of the scream echoes all around the clearing, but the sobbing too is in that same direction through the trees.

Alexander

Alexander halts as he gets his first look at the camp before slowly stepping up to stand on the crest of the rise, taking in the destruction below him. Just looking, whatever happened had to have been bad. The mass of tent, the blood, the ash. Add to that the relentless screaming from across the Gauntlet, the tension that has taken hold of his body, and that fearful pull to get away. He really shouldn’t be here.

Or maybe he should. The urge to leave is tempered and controlled by the crying voice and his need to know what had happened here. Seeing a crouching figure through the trees – possibly Skye, from what he remembered of the man the only time they met in, thinking about it, not entirely dissimilar circumstances – only bring more chaos to his thoughts. Thoughts which fly back to another forest, another spirit...

No, enough. Alexander clamps down on the wild chains of thought and reclaims the discipline that has served him before. The focus and concentration that brought him face to face with Victoria. The chaotic thoughts are still there, but separated by that frozen focus. He slowly walks down towards the camp, careful not to slip or fall and careful of what may come next. The path he takes is towards the crouching figure but it isn’t direct. He passes near the log, the cat, the upturned earth on the way so that he can try to piece together what might have happened here. He looks but doesn’t touch, all the while listening for movement nearby

Alexander halts just outside the clearing, looking around at what else might be there before he thinks about entering. Looking and listening for the source of the crying. He calls out to the figure, gently and quietly given the situation, “Skye? What happened?”

Nightmare

[Go ahead and roll for me Perception + Investigation. (I'm going to assume that Alex has that. Enigmas/Alertness could also be substituted.)]

Alexander

[Per+Inv]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

Nightmare

[Perception+Awareness - Do you know Alex is coming?]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 5 )

Nightmare

There was quite the fight here. Someone fought. Hard. Pulled that branch from the fire and beat that feline thing with it until the great cat spilled not blood but decaying strips of cloth. Hit it so hard its head and part of one shoulder tore until only a few strips of hide hold the body in some semblance of shape. There are sigils of some kind on the rags and what Alexander thinks might be hieroglyphics. A few strips have been unfurled, perhaps by Skye.

The trail of the fighting leads toward where Skye is, brush broken here, blood spilled there. Singed twigs here, bits of fur and cotton there. Near the rock where Skye is perched, looking down into a ravine, there is more blood. So much blood it sprayed and soaked into the rock. There is more disturbed earth. Cotton rags and scraps of fur and a large glass eye.

There is a path of disturbed earth and brush to the ravine. And Skye, from up on the rock is looking down into it. Alexander though...Alexander can see what perhaps Skye has missed. There is another path, a much harder one to trace as it lacks the signs of struggle of the other, leading away.

Down in the ravine, pressed by sluggish waters against a muddy shoal on the opposite bank, is a tangled mess of a bear skin, cotton rags, and the body of a woman whom Alexander would guess to be older than twenty but younger than thirty-five. The spectral form of a woman with that same athletic form and long strawberry-blonde hair is standing in the ravine. Closer now, Alexander can tell that she is trying to get Skye's attention, screaming and crying.

Her voice sounds far away, hard to hear over her other echoing screams and the sound of sobbing that does not stop. Now though, closer, Alexander can make it out. The ghostly woman is begging Skye to save someone. But Skye is unmoved in a way that suggests he can see the body but not the ghost. His eyes though...his eyes are unfocused as though he is not really looking at the body below him at all.

"Something wrong," is all that Skye says at first. But then his attention comes back from wherever it was. "Ah." He can't seem to decide what to do here, with this moment. There is an uneasy pause. "I'm not sure about much more than that yet."

Alexander

Alexander is silent, beyond the noise of his boots on the ground, as he steps around the camp. There is a pattern in trail of destruction that he can pick out, but the thing that attracts his attention most is the cat. Initially he had thought it maybe a corruption of something natural – a wild cat twisted and deformed by whatever dead magic was nearby. Only maybe it was the magic that had created the thing, out of cloth and hide and... And that was something for later. Maybe he’d pick up one or two of the rags and show them to Kalen later.

The blood, though, wasn’t from the cat. It probably never had any blood inside it to spill, certainly not in such large quantities. Skye didn’t look – physically – in particularly bad shape. So there had been someone else here. Someone down... He closes his eyes for a moment. Had he been a religious man, there may have been a prayer for the woman. But such acts are meaningless to him, beyond the act of respect to the departed.

Alexander looks at Skye as his gives what little explanation as he has to offer, although it isn’t anything that Alex couldn’t have worked out on his own. Presumably Skye and his friend had been camping here when the cat had attacked them. Skye had managed to... maybe not kill – had the thing even been alive? – but certainly stop it. But not before the woman had been thrown into the ravine. Seconds pass as Alex debates what, how, to tell Skye. Would knowing that her ghost was there, desperate to talk to him help? It would help her, though, in her desperation to have someone saved.

“This will make sense in a minute,” he offers Skye gently. Then Alex turns back to the ravine and calls down to the woman, “He can’t hear you yet. Give me a minute to help him.” Alex turns back to Skye, stepping up to him so that he can see his own reflection in the other man’s eyes. He tells him, asks him, “trust me.” Then he pushes back at the universe again to let him see and hear his friend.

[Arete, giving Skye the ability to see and hear her. TN4, -1 for practiced. 3 succs to target Skye and have the effect last long enough for them to talk]

Dice: 1 d10 TN3 (10) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Alexander

[Extending]

Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (4) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Nightmare

[Oh. Damn. Things we were not hoping to look at with all our other effects running. Does this make us extra crazy?]

Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 9) ( success x 1 )

Nightmare

Skye blinks at Alexander, still a little distracted. Off balance. Not for the reason Alexander thinks, though that will become clear soon enough.

The woman stops screaming at Skye. Turns to Alexander, Alexander who can see her, and screams, "What are you waiting for, save her!"

There is a second where Skye realises what Alexander means to do and his eyes widen. But before Skye can quite wrap his mind around what is happening, it is done. He can see the woman, yes. She gets a glance from him before his eyes widen in horror. Not at the sight of the ghost herself, not for her terror or her pleading. But at the sight of the bear. At the sight of the world around them.

[Can you even understand what you see? Beyond that it is terrible?]

Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

Alexander

Having pushed a deeper sense of the universe onto Skye, Alexander moves back to the edge of the ravine. Between the fear and the shouting, his explanation is rather more abrupt that it would have been in better circumstances. “Your friend’s spirit is down there and she has something to tell you.”

He turns back and yells down to the woman’s spirit. Again, somewhat less kindly than he normally would have, but hell... Nothing about this whole situation is either normal or feeling anything remotely right. “Save who? What the fuck happened here? Was there someone else here with you?”

It takes a moment for Alexander’s mind to put a few things together, but then his eyes turn to the other path nearby. “Where did she go?”

Alexander

[Per+Alert]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 5, 6, 6) ( success x 2 )

Alexander

[Per+Aware]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 7, 9) ( success x 2 )

Nightmare

Alexander is faintly aware that the world around them, or the reflection of it, is shifting. It was subtle at first, gradual enough that it isn't until now he's really aware of it as it starts to happen faster. The shadows are deepening. Tree branches growing skeletal and menacing. Bushes are sprouting thorns. The reflection of the water is starting to stir restlessly.

The ghost seems, at first, to understand only that Alexander can hear her. She is, as no few of them are, only an echo of her last moments. Terror. Desperation. But there is a tiny flicker of understanding. For a second the water stills. For a second there is the sound of birds.

And she stops screaming. Only for a few precious seconds. And points in the direction of the trail that Alexander saw.

Skye is still mostly focused on the bear. Though he is, almost certainly, at least peripherally aware of what Alexander is doing.

Alexander

Alexander shivers, although it’s not down to the temperature. The shifting world, the ever-present tension hanging in the air, the question not so much of what happened here as why – and who... The world suddenly seems like a much darker and less hospitable place. Nature had never been kind, but the creeping changes seemed to be turning it... malicious.

There are blessed moments when whatever hangs over them clears, but they are only seconds. Are the changes going on around them because of her? Is her calm because of that fleeting moment without them? Or is Skye’s focus more on holding it all back than the simple, assumed reason that the death of the woman has left him shocked.

What the fuck is going on here...

The answers don’t seem to be forthcoming in the clearing. Maybe along that path, then? ‘She’ – whoever she is – went that way and would seem to need help. He looks down at the woman and nods before stepping towards the path. Arms up, ready to fend off an attacker, and with his heart in his throat, he moves forwards. Quietly, though. Carefully.

[Dex+Stealth]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 4) ( botch x 1 )

Nightmare

Alexander sneaks.

Well. More accurately, Alexander does not sneak. Reconciling the nightmarish landscape with the physical landscape is not easy.

He follows the trail and the direction of the trail. Reaches one of the main trails. There is no sign of the woman he is chasing now, not really. One might guess that she made it out? But for the lack of any sign of park officials or police approaching. Unless he passed them as he cut through the woods.

Alexander

Alexander gets to the end of the trail and there’s nothing. Nothing? The woman had been so adamant that someone needing saving had come this way, but there’s nothing here. He stands at the junction, turning to look each way with a hand on his forehead and confusion on his face. Maybe she had hidden somewhere, scared by his completely screwed up attempt to hide his presence from whatever nasty might have been lurking? Or had she passed and was already long gone?

He turns back to the path, looking for more clues about whether she had made it this far. Someone running away was pretty likely to have broken branches, kicked up mud, and generally left big obvious clues that they had been there.

[Per+Survival]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 6, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 4 )

Nightmare

Focusing on the physical world Alexander discovers two things:

First, the woman did make it so far as the main trail.

Second, she was, shortly before that point, joined by another person who crossed that last distance with her. Where they went after they reach that main trail though, Alexander cannot tell. Maybe if there was some sign that they had veered off of it, back into the woods. But there is not.

Alexander

He spends seconds trying to work out where the footprints lead once they hit the main trail, but it’s just not possible to tell. The main trail seems to be a busy one and any individual tracks are lost amongst the dozens of vague prints in the hard, packed ground. So no clue, even, which way they headed.

He sighs, frustrated in his chase. There’s no clue as to whether the person meeting her had good or bad intentions, but he’d guess bad given the dead woman’s desperation for her to be saved. But perhaps there are other ways of working out where they went.

Alexander concentrates on that extra sense of awareness that waking up blesses their kind with. Maybe magic was involved in the disappearance somehow.

[Per+Aware]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (6, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Nightmare

There is no lingering sense of Resonance here. If there was magic here, it wasn't anything that left any trace.

Nightmare

[Le pause. Alas.]

Alexander

Alexander is limited. His knowledge of magic isn’t enough to reach out and sense the patterns of life, or look back in time to watch what had happened. Chance could be manipulated to nudge a coin into sending him in the right direction. With more ability with Spirit, maybe he could have even spoken to the spirits of the forest to find them.

But he can’t. At least, not yet. Some time in the future, there is always the potential for those things to happen. Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. Nothing is laid down and tied down by fate. For the moment, though, he’s at a figurative dead end. With no clue where the woman went Alexander turns back onto the small trail to find his way back to Skye and the spirit.

Nightmare

Alexander searched, but could find no sign that the woman had left the trail with her new companion anywhere but at one of the parking lots. There are a handful of cars in the lots, but whether one of those could be her car is difficult to guess.

As he approaches the ruined campsite, he can see that Skye has dropped down into the ravine, is near both the bear-thing and the body of the woman. He is speaking softly, presumably to the ghost. He seems...distant from the signs of violence so close at hand. Has he, like so many of them do, acclimated to these horrors? Perhaps.

"We should clean up this place," Skye says as he senses Alexander's approach. "And then get out of here. Quickly. It isn't safe to stay here." He could mean because of authorities and questions. But there is an underlying tension to his voice, a wariness to the way that his eyes flick into the woods at the sound of anything that could be approaching footsteps, that seems to indicate he is expecting a different kind of threat.

Alexander

She’s gone. This unknown woman who needed saving has vanished. Saving from what? From whatever had wrecked the campsite? That seemed to have been the cat and the bear, now... dead? How can they be dead if they were never alive? Broken, then. Stopped. Who had sent them, though? The owner of the second set of tracks that had been left along the trail? Had there been any sign of a fight where they had met, or had it seemed that they had met without incident?

There were many questions hanging over this camping trip of their, and no answers to be found standing where the trails meet. So Alexander returns. To check on Skye and his now-spiritual friend. To work out what the hell had happened.

Alexander stays silent when he returns, seeing Skye talking with the woman. He doesn’t know the woman, so it’s perhaps best to give them whatever time they want together before he intrudes. He thinks to go back to the cat, maybe take some of the sheets to show others later. Others who might have more of an idea what they mean and what they’re used for. But he’s noticed before he steps away again.

That something so violent and strange had happened would already have turned up Alex’s wariness a notch or two, but it had seemed like it was all over. Skye’s tension is contagious, though, and Alexander turns to scan the treeline and the parts of the paths that he can see.

He spares a glance for the two – the physical and the spiritual – in the ravine. “She’s gone. I’m sorry, I lost her tracks when she hit the main trail. There was someone with her, though.” The glance lingers on the bear skin and the body before returning to the trees.

“What the hell happened here?”

Nightmare

"Magic," Skye says. "But not like ours, quite. This was something else. Out here, that might be werewolves. Those...are generally not at all friendly and very dangerous. Also rarely alone, so if this was their doing, and they find us here, I doubt that will go at all well."

He rises from beside the body of the woman and the bear. "At least these look like animals that actually could have been here, if not in their condition. We should-" Should what? Burn the bodies? Hide them?

"What did you find?"

Alexander

Vampires, and now werewolves? Well, there had already been spirits and boatmen and Sendings and all sorts of other strangeness that, even just a year ago, would have seemed like it belonged in bad fantasy literature more than it would ever occur in reality. But then that just goes to show how fickle reality can be.

“Werewolves? Get bitten and you become one? Why would they be here? And...” His attention returns to the bear, with its spilled contents, at the bottom of the ravine. “If they’re that dangerous, why would they send these things?” He considers jumping down to take a closer look at the bear, but the remains of the cat by destroyed tent is much easier to get to.

“There’s a cat, back by the camp, with... I’d say its guts spread out, but it was stuffed with cloth. Whoever that other woman was, and whoever it was that joined her, they’ve both disappeared. I lost them when they hit the main trail, and it didn’t feel like they’d used magic to get away.” He considers for a moment that the magic that had happened here hadn’t been, quite, like their own. Would that have meant that the lingering resonance that their bending of reality leaves wouldn’t have been there? The sense of old magic lingered here, so perhaps it still would? Who knows?

Alexander’s attention returns to the tree line, scanning and listening for anything unpleasant approaching. If they are in more danger, finding a decent branch to swing probably isn’t a bad idea. “If we’re going to clear up here, I want to grab some of those bits of cloth to show some others.” His gaze swings back down into the ravine, but to the woman this time. “And I’m sorry. For what happened. I wish I had some advice for you about what comes next.”

Skye

Skye shakes his head a little. "I think it's their nature, just as magic is ours. I don't think that being bitten by a werewolf makes a werewolf thing is true. I know you can be bitten and not turn. But that is also true for vampires, and those can turn. In my experience though, and everything I've heard, the few of us who survive werewolf bites never turn.

"But there are more things under the heavens, no?" Skye sighs as he listens to Alexander speaking. The ghostly woman near him doesn't really seem to much notice them now.

"I don't know. This doesn't make any sense to me. Maybe there was something they wanted here. Maybe. I don't know though. I don't know much about them, but what I do know...it doesn't make sense with this. Except...there's something about this energy. It's like whatever took Claire. Twisted. Wrong.

"You find this in some of the places I've worked to reclaim. It's like a spiritual corruption. It twists everything around it. Maybe them too." He looks up at Alexander's apology, seeming more confused than anything. "About Claire? I haven't found her yet, but she's still alive. I can sense that much. All hope is not lost."

Alexander

More things under the heavens... Alexander snorts, with what would pass for amusement in better circumstances, and mutters quietly, “no shit.”

“Maybe they wanted you. Or they wanted you gone, if they get territorial. Do you think this is related to Claire, then? If this all feels the same, then maybe it’s her that they wanted gone.” He shrugs, not really sure of any of this. It sometimes seems so easy for the others to dig up answers when the weirdness hits the fan. But is there really going to be much of a paper trail to find for dead animals stuffed with sheets? Hell, who knows?

“So were you here clearing up after Claire, or whatever it is using her? What’s it been doing out here? And who was she? The woman who’s missing.” Alexander nods his head towards the trail.

It takes a moment to realise that Skye’s confusion comes from thinking that Alex is still talking with him. Skye gets a glance before he looks back at the fading woman. “Sorry, I was talking to your friend there. I think I know where she’s headed to eventually, but I don’t know how she gets there. My knowledge of spirits is patchy at best.” His attention switches back to Skye again. “I’m glad she’s still alive, though. I don’t really know what happened to her – or to you – but maybe she can be helped in the same way?”

Skye

"This is like what had Claire, I thought...I was looking for her. If this thing wanted me, I have no idea why it would attack these girls. Maybe those things were meant for me, but this was over before I got here. If these girls were like us, I see no sign of that. Nor of them being like werewolves. Maybe they knew to attack with fire but...it looks like they just fought. And hard.

"But if they were successful in killing these creatures, I suspect these creatures weren't meant to kill me." Successful, Skye says. As though there is not a ghost only feet from him and one girl missing. He seems disconnected from any emotions about either of them.

The ghostly woman looks up at Alexander. Slowly. She seems almost as disconnected from herself as Skye. And she is fading. More and more translucent. More and more a wisp of fog than a woman. But she smiles at Alexander. Just for a second.

"Claire isn't here. This is...similar. But different. I...maybe I will go back to California. I know some people there. I can get to some books. I've just been chasing anything that seemed like it might be her. Or out looking for it. I'm not sure that's really working. I'm just afraid if I leave she'll know. I don't want her to think I've abandoned her."

Skye rises, starts for the creature that hasn't been soaking in a bloody creek bed. He pauses as he draws closer to Alexander. And there is a second where he seems to really, properly register his existence. Not as some abstract thing. "She's not so trapped in her death now. She knows you went to help her friend. I think she just lets go." He reaches out, a little warily, to squeeze Alexander's shoulder. He isn't used to touching other people now. Isn't even used to talking to them, really.

And, whether or not Alexander lets him touch him, he adds, quietly. "As much as she can be saved, I think you've done it. But, if you want to, she might like it if you stay with her." He glances at the nearly faded ghost. "I don't think it will be very long now."

Alexander

“You mean..?” Alex looks to Skye before closing and rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, I thought you were camping with her.” He lowers his hand and nods to the fading spirit below. “That’s why I thought she was trying to tell you something when I saw her shouting.” Alex shifts to the rock where Skye had been crouched, leaning against it.

“Maybe they just used whatever was to hand. If they had a campfire going, a flaming branch sounds like a good weapon to use.” Alex shrugs, offering the best theory he has. One person dead, another missing with an unknown third person. Success is debatable. “There was someone else out there, though. Maybe the plan was to kidnap one of them? I don’t suppose you can look back and see what went on..?” He’d seen Sera and Kalen both do similar, so it doesn’t seem like an unreasonable expectation. Hell, maybe one day he’d be the one looking.

“I don’t know how close you guys were, but maybe she’ll trust that you’ll come back for her? If going is your best chance to get her back... There are some other Awakened around Denver, you could try asking around before you go. Someone might be able to help. Ian?”

Alex doesn’t pull away from the touch, but doesn’t do anything to reinforce it. He simply takes the contact that is offered as comfort for his lack of education. He does nod, though, confirming that he’d heard Skye. He crouched by the edge of the ravine, giving the woman what little comfort he can. “I don’t even know her name,” he says without looking round. Then, quietly, he speaks to the ghost.

“Sleep well. You’ll be well cared for.”

Skye

Skye shakes his head. "No. I'm-" He makes a soft sound, more just tired than either bitter or amused. "Well...was is probably more the word now, a healer. I think I might qualify as more of a hermit, these days. Ghosts and mysteries and whatever kind of magic this is, get torn up when you find it, and I can help you." His eyes track to the ravine. The dead woman. "Hell, if you need it torn up when you find it, I can help you. But finding it...no. I'm sorry."

There is a silence after Ian's name. "No," Skye says quietly. "He's done enough. And I don't really know any of the others here. I assume they have their own problems, and don't need mine. It's alright. One way or another, I'll find her."

The woman looks up at Alexander. Then at where Skye is walking away. Back to Alexander. Meets his eyes with her hazy ones. After a moment she opens her mouth and her lips move, but even with his effect up, Alexander cannot really hear her. He thinks, maybe, that what she tried to say was 'thank you.'

Alexander

[Per+Emp - what's going on with you?]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (4, 6, 6, 6, 9) ( success x 4 )

Skye

[Skye is...broken might be the best term. He was, barely having survived, warm the night Alexander met him. He'd reached out to heal him the same way he'd reached out to kiss Ian's hand, easily and readily and with a kind of sense of connection. Whatever happened between then and today, that connection is shuttered now. This newer version of Skye could barely keep his hand on Alexander's shoulder for a few seconds and barely meets his eyes. Even this offer of help is barely there, not in his intentions or willingness to follow through, but that like everything else it seems practically mechanical. There was a moment where he was willing to reach out to Alexander, and judging by the ghost's changed demeanor and the way Skye was speaking to her when Alexander arrived (and the way she looked after him leaving) he did connect with her a little after all. But even when he mentions Claire, there's not much of anything in his voice. It's as though all the warmth and emotion have been either bled out or shut away.]

Alexander

Alex’s attention shifts to Skye for some moments, trying to get a better idea of the man. He’s been searching for months now for Claire, and whatever he’d been through in that hunt it something he could only guess at. But he’s different. They all change – it would be impossible not to be touched by what they see and do. But where Alex had finally started to see the wonder in this life, Skye seems to be pulling away from it all. Walking away.

Alex floats between wanting to stay with the woman until she completely fades and wanting to reach out to Skye, to try to give him some kind of connection to hang on to. He stays where he is, leaning on the rock, but turns to look at Skye as he walks away. “Wait. Please.” Whether he slows or stops, Alex continues. “Like you said, it won’t be long before she leaves completely. Her body might be beyond healing, but we can still help her spirit heal.” A glance back again. “Right?”

It may not be much of a connection to what Skye used to be, but it’s something.

Skye

Skye does stop. At first, that's all he does, stops and stills and waits. But after a few seconds he turns and comes back, so that he and Alexander and the fading ghostly presence have a moment together. The ghost is quiet because she's barely there, and Skye...well...much the same. But at least, for that last moment of hers, they are all present.

And then she is gone.

But Skye, leaning on a tree not far from Alexander, is a little bit more present. Present enough that he seems at a loss for what to say, now that he isn't mechanically moving on to the next thing.

Alexander

Skye stopping is something that Alex had hoped would happen, but hadn’t necessarily expected. That it had? Well...

The woman finally having passed on, Alex pushes up from the rock and walks towards Skye. “Did she ask you to climb down and talk to her while I was gone?” His tone is gently, quiet, but enough to be heard across the distance between them as he takes the first steps towards bridging the gap.

Skye

Skye shakes his head. "I was...examining her body. And the bear. I was talking to her because she was there."

Alexander

“Because she was there? Or because she was hurt, and scared, and all alone?” Alexander gets closer to Skye, but not so close that Skye might feel his personal space being intruded on. If the man is already feeling separate, disconnected and isolated, then pushing him away wouldn’t do much to help. Alex crouches on the ground nearby - making himself small and unthreatening.

“I don’t think that part of you is as lost as you think it is. Hell, you’re still trying to help Claire after all this time. If you weren’t a healer still, I think you’d have given up long ago.”

Skye

Skye watches Alex, and if it registers to him that Alex is taking an approach that might also be taken with an unknown dog, it seems not to bother him. He watches Alex approaching, definitely, but not with any real wariness. He is a lot of things, Skye. But even now he is not so much jealous of his space. Hesitant to reach out and touch someone, yes. Concerned about someone being close to him, not particularly.

He also crouches down, because he has no real desire to loom. "You are very invested in my mental state for a practical stranger," Skye says. "Though I suppose I understand the impulse well enough.

"I am looking for Claire because I got her into this. She's...just a girl. I showed her a beautiful, impossible world. And she followed me right into it. And then right into a trap she had no defenses against. I'm not doing that because I want to fix it, I'm doing that because it's my fault. Tracking missing people and...doing whatever I'll need to do to get her back is...probably not so much like healing as fighting with whatever spirit took her. There's a certain balance in it, sure. Setting something back into its natural state. And yeah, that is kind of what healing is, broadly speaking. But that's not the kind I'm really much good at.

"Unless you substitute evil corporations for corrupting spirits and virgin forest for girls. Even then, my real work was setting to right a whole different kind of corruption. What's happened to Claire. She'll need a different kind of healer than me, probably. The same way different people operate on people and rabbits. Same theories. But they're not the same on application."

Alexander

Whether or not Skye considered Alex’s approach as appropriate for dealing with a dog, he’s simply sticking with what he knows. As some of the others have found out by reaching out when Alex has been in a bad place, he pushes them away and withdraws. It’s just the way he defends and protects himself when there are... less physical things to battle with. It’s not that he’s necessarily against touch itself. Context plays a bit part in it too and, well... it’s just complicated.

“I guess we don’t really know each other, but I came to help rescue you from the spirit. Ian, Alyssa and me. Two strangers and an acquaintance, all with their own issues that they had to look after. I bet you don’t even know how new I was to this whole Awakened world when I was there. Now there are some issues that needed to be taken care of. Then there were others who helped track you down and work out what was happening.” He smiles, amused as he remembers an accusation throw offhandedly by one of the other Awakened in the city at the moment. “Maybe we do all have massive hero complexes. But I prefer to think that I’m making things better for people where I can, even if I don’t know them.” He shrugs. It may sound corny, but it is essentially true. “So it might not hurt to ask the guys in town before you jet off. The worst they can do is say no, right?”

Alexander sighs as Skye tries to blame himself for everything that’s happened. He’d been the one to drag Claire into this world, he hadn’t been able to save her yet. He’d survived... Alexander’s voice is a little less soft when he responds to that part, but only because the conviction behind the words makes him sound harder. “It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault. You didn’t know that spirit was out there, or what it was capable of, or what it would do. You were just trying to get evidence that some company or other was illegally dumping stuff in the reservoir. And anyway, for all you know she would have Awakened herself and ended up in deeper trouble, trying to work these things out by herself. Or she might have been hit by a bus leaving college. There’s no point in running over and over what might have happened and what you would have done differently. You can’t. You’re stuck with what’s happened and you have to deal with it.”

His voice softens again as he carries on, hoping that he’s t least gotten Skye to at least consider that he wasn’t to blame. “I’m impressed – really – by how much and how long you’ve been doing that. Hell, you’re still going for it, even if it means you have to trek across states to do it. And who the hell cares if you don’t think you’re any good at trying to chase away spirits and set things right. You’ll only get good at it if you keep on trying. Or you give up on it all. But you don’t seem like the kind of guy who’d do that.”

Skye

There is a soft sound that doesn't quite become a laugh.

And then a pause.

"Right." It is less agreement, and more acknowledgement that Skye actually noticed Alexander was using words, but it's something at least. "And as much as discussing our motivations and coming to a moment of perfect clarity appeals to me, I'd prefer to do that while I am both much more stoned and much less concerned about werewolves."

Alexander

It’s a start, and that’s all that Alex can really hope for. It sounded like the guy had been alone, chasing his demons, for months. When you shut yourself away, it can be hard to remember that there are other people out there who might want to make a connection, to offer a hand, or a shoulder, or a couch and large quantities of mind-altering substances.

Alexander stand, reaching out a hand to help Skye up. Another connection.

“I’m going to grab some of the rags out of the cat to show around, see if anyone can figure out what they are and who made them. You think we should burn everything else when we’re done?”

Skye

Skye takes Alexander's hand, with significantly less hesitation than he reached out to touch him with earlier. He rises with little enough assistance that he clearly took Alexander's hand more because he was accepting the offer than because he had any real desire for the help standing.

"Yeah. This isn't our magic, but we still don't anyone finding it and getting curious. We might get werewolf hunters. We might get witch hunters. We might get the Technocracy. We might get those kids who got way too into Twilight looking for dates. The possibilities for this getting found going badly are generally not great for us."

He looks at the cat thing. "Maybe take pictures too, if you have a phone that does that? Be careful with anything you take from here. If we can trace our magic, they might be able to trace theirs. Like a sympathetic bond.

"Not that you shouldn't do it. Just...be careful where you take it."

Alexander

“All of those sound great. As if there aren’t enough things out there already out to get us. Did you know there are vampires in the city, by the way?” Because of all the things Skye needs right now is something else to worry about. But better to be forewarned, right?

“I’ve got somewhere in mind to leave the parts, somewhere out of the way where they shouldn’t get stumbled over.” Alexander kneels down by the remains of the cat, taking a closer look before he starts handling it. He may not be able to actively look for the threads of magic yet, but there’s still that sixth sense that comes with the opening of their eyes. And there are still other ways to open your eyes that he hasn’t tried yet. He shrugs out of his pack and pulls out a bottle of water, rolling it around in one hand while gripping something in a pocket with the other hand.

Alexander

[Awareness specifically on the cat]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 5, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )

Alexander

[Arete - Sensing Entropy and Time. Just a quicky this time. TN4. 1 WP left after this.]

Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (5) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Skye

The cat feels like something from which something liquid and cold and a little oily is seeping, like those rags were immersed in that first slick of oil and water on a highway when it starts to rain. That sense is strongest on the cat, but the sense of it is starting to seep into the ground around it. There is a similarity to whatever took Claire, but that was more corruption by decay. This is...corruption by contamination.

There is, strictly speaking, no Entropy magic here. But something did manipulate decay to create this cat and there is a heightened decay in this place as whatever magic created that thing oozes out of it, and so Alexander can sense the disruption in the force there, if not precisely the nature of the effect as he might with Sphere magic. There is no similar sense that time has been disrupted around the cat.

Skye

The effect of this was, more than entropy, manipulating the spiritual nature of it. There is that spiritual corruption oozing out of the creature, and at the center of the essence of the thing a sort of negative space where a spirit used to be, similar to the negative impressions that remain in Pompeii, nothing but hollows after the flesh decays. This is fuzzier, fuzzy enough Alexander can't be sure if the spirit of the original animal or another spirit altogether was bound inside it. Whatever it was, he can feel the fading echoes of its hunger.

Alexander

Alexander visibly shudders when he looks closer at the remains, suddenly less keen on the idea of picking up pieces of it to take away. “I... have no idea what happened to this thing. There used to be a spirit in this, but it’s... not there any more. It didn’t leave. I think it might have been consumed by something. And something strange has been done to Entropy here, too. It’s been messed around with, and it’s spreading.”

“That’s about as much of it as I can sense. Can you see any more?”

He stands, leaving the pieces well alone for now. One of the bent and broken tent poles will do to try to rearrange some of the pieces so that they can be looked at. Alex isn’t expecting to recognise any of the symbols, but you never know. Stranger things have happened.

Skye

"Vampires?" Skye asks. "I would assume so. They are in most cities, at least. Some more than others. You know their hunting grounds here, I take it?"

"No. But I have seen things like this before. I may be able to help you stop what caused it. Burning that thing may stop or slow the spread of that...energy. But fixing what's already done will take someone with more ability to work with spirits than I have." Skye looks around. "Anywhere you leave parts of that thing will become...like it. It's a contagion. Like a mold. It colonizes what it comes in contact with.

"Unless you know someone who can treat that, it might be better to get rid of it entirely. Or at least bring it to a place with enough strong energy to counteract its effects."

Alexander

“That’s... complicated. There was something of a fight between a couple of factions, and I think the dust might still be settling. Best to avoid the Black Orchid, though. Just in case.”

Alexander sighs as he drags back a piece of pole. Tupperware may well protect from bad odours, but probably not bad spirits – it probably is best to burn the lot. Maybe keep one piece to one side and see how pernicious the contagion seems to be, though. “I’m not sure who’s around who can deal with spirits these days. We haven’t been able to get hold of the woman who helped free you in a while, and the only other person I can think of has vanished too. There have been some new faces in town, though. I’ll ask around.”

“What kind of energy would counteract it? I can think of one place that might work, but there’s no way I’m getting that spiritual crap anywhere near its guardian.”

Alexander starts using the pole to pull parts of the cat’s stuffing out, trying to unfold it to see what might be written on it.

Skye

"I might be able to counteract it, at least for a few days. I don't know how to render it permanently harmless without destroying it, but I can create something it cannot destroy that will last long enough for you to ask around. It might alter the nature of the thing a little, but, honestly, that may not matter.

"How are you for people who can read minds? We both saw this for what it was, which means we can share our memories. Like pictures, only more intimate. But then we could destroy it without much concern. Maybe a small sample, if you think its chemical composition will tell you something the symbols themselves won't. It might.

"But I doubt it won't be anything you couldn't guess or would need to know."

Alexander

“Containing it might not be a bad idea. That way I can try to get it to more people who might have more of an idea about this stuff that I do. Especially when it comes to Life, Mind, and Prime. Or anything particularly in depth about Spirit. This is just way beyond anything I’ve picked up so far.

“We...” He pauses, thinking about the time that Sera tried creating a telepathic link with him to show him the wonder of her universe. “If you’re happy, I can probably get you in touch with someone who can take a look at your memories. But it’s not something I want to do.” For a man trying to encourage connection not so long ago, it might seem odd that he pulls away from this way of doing it.

“Or there are a few of us who can look through Time. Any idea if this stuff would stick to someone doing that?”

Skye

"Hey," Skye says. "It's fine. I used to do that kind of thing a lot. Not everyone likes having people in their head. I...mostly didn't look at thoughts so much as emotions under very different circumstances, but having someone else inside my head isn't going to freak me out." He looks at the symbols. "So I won't understand those, but I could let someone see them.

"Time magic...for as long as they would need to be here, probably would be fine." Skye watches as Alex unspools lengths of cloth covered in sigils that look to be hieroglyphics, or something similar. At the center of some of the tangles of cloth are bits of mostly decayed flesh. That gets a little wince from Skye the first time, but Skye has never shied away from blood magic. Corrupted blood magic and corrupted magic are, in no few ways, almost the same thing to the Verbena.

Alexander

“I’ll see what I can sort out. We can swap numbers once we’re done here.”

With a decent sample of cloth unfurled and flattened out, displaying their runes or hieroglyphs or whatever the hell those things are, Alex fishes around in his bag for a phone. Not the nice one he uses for his normal life, the cheap brick that could easily be thrown in a fire or under a wheel if needed. He turns off all of the synching and backups and data connections and anything else that might leak photos to unwanted places and unexpected eyes.

Grace would be so proud!

He asks, while taking photos of what’s laying on the ground, “any idea what they might have been?” He nods at the decayed flesh.

Skye

"Assuming that those are hieroglyphics," Skye says quietly, "My guess would be organs. But they could have been prime cuts of lamb as offerings to the spirits. Magic is...personal. Their magic...is usually spirit magic. So some kind of offering, I'm sure. But whether it relied on removing the organs of the body that housed the spirit, or organs as an offering to attract a spirit, or if it was about the blood or flesh or death of a thing-" Skye sighs.

"There is power for the taking in all of those things, if you're willing. It could have been any of them. And it could be more than one of them." Skye does not take pictures. He was hardly looking until the subject of sharing memories came up.

"And I suppose, since it looks like I'll be here awhile, numbers would be good. If I'm going to be much good for anything, I'll probably need to visit a chantry." He waves a dismissive hand. "Which I'm not asking for now. Hell, considering the company we may have any moment, please don't tell me now. Regardless, I don't expect an invitation yet. You hardly know me.

"By the time we're ready to fight this thing, that may have changed. Particularly if anyone does go for that mind reading offer."

Alexander

Pictures taken and, hopefully, secure, Alex tucks the phone back where it was and starts prodding and poking things back into a pile. He looks back at the tent. “How about all that? If we can clean out the spiritual crud, I’d like to try to leave the place so that things can be found and the woman given a decent burial by her family. If you think we can do that without risking the stuff from spreading on her..?” He looks questioningly at Skye – he really does want to offer the closure to the family as much as he’s already given it to the girl, but the idea of the contamination spreading through a cemetery? That’s not a great thought

There’s also the other remains at the bottom of the ravine to be fetched and checked and disposed of. There might be differences between the two, they might be important. Or there might be nothing. There’s only one way to find out.

“I’ll see what I can arrange.”

Skye

"Honestly. Leave her where she is, give it a few good rains, maybe only one...track down stream. She can have her burial regardless. It might not be pretty. But there's nothing to prevent that. So long as we don't leave her with that thing much longer, there shouldn't be enough of that to really render her dangerous to be around."

[And lo, there was a bonfire without marshmallows and information gathered and at least one person needing to go to bed.]