The Dresden Files RP- "Edge Town"

"Right here, buddy." Terry produced the requested invites, doing his best to seem relaxed. His actual feelings on the matter were a matryoshka doll of distinct flavors of apprehension. Doll one, the last whamp-run shindig he'd been invited to had gone excitingly to shit in short order, and that was on his home turf. Doll two, he was an ocean and a continent whichever way you went from having any idea who all the players here were and what they wanted. Doll three, in particular as it pertained to the mysterious and definitely on the level benefactors who'd given him the invitations. Doll four, he could not quite rule out the possibility that those invitations included hidden instructions to whack the bearers. Dolls five through eight, fucking Loki.

Tim gave the museum a quiet sigh and then got out a couple of items from his bag. First a set of nine chandeliers and fitting candles, a small jar of putty and chalk.

Ignoring Katelyn for the moment, he drew nine points before him and then connected three sets of them with triangle before finally enclosing it all in a circle.

The enneacle so prepared, he took a little bit of the putty, put it in the chandelier and then a candle on top, placing it outside of the circle between two points of the star. Quietly, Tim then put another piece of putty into the center of the circle and empowered it with a effort of will.

Drawing Magic into it, he flipped open his iron cased spellbook to the proper page. Covered entirely in magic formula, medieval runes and kanji, it would be hard to understand even for other spellworkers, but he simply placed his left hand, the energy absorbing one, on the pages and pointed the open palm of his right, the projecting one, at the circle and whispered a hushed "Crebain"

The magic in the circle began to swirl and after a moment and a metaphorical 'plop', it coalesced into a outsized black raven just as the candle caught fire. Staring at Tim for a moment it let out a 'Caw!' and then flapped off into the evening air, taking its position as scout around the museum perimeter. If anything would happen, the candle that was connected to it with the putty inside its ectoplasmic body would either flare or wink out, alerting them to trouble on its area of observation.

Tim sighed and prepared the next candle. Thaumaturgy like that was, with proper time to prepare, not as taxing at doing it with evocation on the fly, but he still hated the blind spot they had until he was done setting up. And he hoped Katelyn did her part while he was occupied.

One down. Eight to go.

Leon was somewhat less anxious then Terrance, though most of his anixity was due to the fact that he was about to walk into a building full of supernaturals with only a bare smattering of his combat gear. The sword felt out of place while wearing his brand new fancy suit courtesy of Loki's credit cards, and the lightning darts weren't all that comfortable in his pocket either. At least the force bands were fine jangling around in his pockets.

Sadly, his mask was rather simple, and surprisingly not a reference to something. As tempted as he had been to go for something silly or over the top, they were trying to be low key here, and showing up with gaudy Batman mask, didn't really fit that. Instead it was a rather simple thing that covered the eyes nose and cheek bones, brushed blue. Mask

There were few things Jarl hated more than formal wear. Something about suits and ties made him not only deeply uncomfortable, but almost stifling. Maybe it was just the fact that they were stiff as Hel.

Then again, one of the few things he hated more than formal wear had a proverbial knife to his throat. The other one was inside, holding the kind of social event that was basically a hunting ground.

All in all, the day could be better. The only thing that made him somewhat comfortable was the fact that the definition of 'formal' was loose enough that he could have a longsword strapped to his hip.

Of course, he did find a way to spruce things up. Namely, his mask was a cheap tourist version of an old theater mask depicting a caricature of a smiling man.

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Dress to impress.

The wolf following at his heels also made him feel a lot better. Funny how proximity to a fuzzy apex predator calms the nerves.

edited 20th May '16 3:29:56 PM by math792d

Katelyn sighed, and turned to Tim, handing him the shard of glass.

Upon looking through it, he would find the world...tinted strangely. More clear. Like he was looking through a filter that pulled away some of the noise and sharpened details. Specifically, the criss-crossing web of silver threads that interlocked together around the entire building.

Magic. Wards. But...not human. To clean cut, to precise, without any of the error of emotion and heart poured into mortal spells.

"They're not great, and they wont last till dawn." Kat was saying, tapping her foot. "But without a threshold to draw on...it's good work."

The bald man took the invitations in hand, inspecting them with intent eyes that seemed trained and steady. There was a long beat where nothing happened and then he pursed his lips and handed them back to Terry.

"Have a nice evening." He says curtly, waving them through without any kind of actual courtosey.

Alex steps outside of the limo (Jessy's doing, and gotten at a steal price is zir was to be believed), just in time to see Terry, Jarl, and Leon ascend the steps to the great okaen doors.

The others followed out in quick fashion. As Jessy had been left with the kids, Lelaine and Venari where joining Alex, Ayda, and Anne this evening. Lelaine looked more or less like always- deadly and beautiful. Having not at all hesitated to dip into her closet of Couture, donning a white-and-silver gown◊ for the evening, her blonde hair pressed straight and falling over her shoulders. Her mask◊ is white as well, already on, as she rises out out the limo and hooks one arm with her brother's.

Venari takes the other as he steps out- he's put on a black chiton, barely knee length, with a red trim to the hem and collar. To those that look closely enough, the hem is a line of tiny stylized thorns, and the neck a series of shapes that barely make out to roses. They match his barefoot sandals◊, the red stones of which glitter in the low-light. Completing the look is his mask◊ black and red as well, the corner of it sporting a fresh scarlet rose.

M finds himself down a dark alleyway, at roughly the same time, shielded from the lights and people by high walls and damp stone floor. Downtown Rome is hardly as bad as New York, or Las Angeles, but it still has it's urban fixtures and holes-in-the-wall.

Nothing should bother him here, should he make the push into the Nevernever.

"Indeed." Tim said, stroking his beard as he considered the work before him. "Someone took obviously great effort and research into putting these together." He said, still seeing some...well, if he was honest he was more considering them flaws of elegance. Elements that could have done easier with more thought behind. Parts where energy was wasted or unneeded redundancy was required to keep it all together.

Then he started a quiet smile. Whoever put that up was good, probably skilled. One of the better Sorcerers for hire around, he'd wagered. Strong, but not strong enough to not end up working for bigger fishes.

But then, on the other hand...He was a Wizard of the White Council. And he had read the Books the like of Arthur Langtry had written on the subjects of Wards.

"What do you think would happen if we start pulling threads on it? Not triggering it, but starting to dismantle them from the outside? We do need a distraction after all."

edited 22nd May '16 10:37:16 AM by 3of4

Katelyn seems...thoughtful. "It's White Court magic. The Whites they're....they are the great Linux of the Magical World. Stuff that runs easy for Red Court or mortal magic is going to be a crap shot at best with Whites."

She holds out her hand for the shard of glass. "It takes years of work for a White Court to be able to do more then your average tracking spell reliably- intense studying and training that has to start practically from the moment they Turn. The Queen Dowager might know some magic, but this is probably the work of a more dedicated mage in her inner circle- someone who's skill is magic and little else." She shrugs. "If we just start pulling on threads, who knows what might happen- it's likely they've prepared for something like that. I wouldn't try it without a better picture."

edited 22nd May '16 10:42:02 AM by LMage

"I wasn't suggesting doing it now. But we have time to study it carefully and see if we can do it properly." Tim said with a slight shrug. "We can do a more mundane diversion as Plan B anyway if we can't find anything from here."

He gave Katelyn a look over the rim of his glasses. "And finally, I am a Wizard. Dedicated and intense studies of the fields of magic in all its forms is what I do. I do not doubt that whoever did this is a skilled individual." Another shrug. "But so am I. And unlike him I come from a tradition of magic craft, lore and studies and not from a place where the libraries are filled with various translations of Lady Chatterley, the Kama Sutra and 50 Shades of Grey."

"So I'd say we give it a shot. Maybe we find a way to make the Wards give a false positive or something like that."

edited 22nd May '16 10:51:07 AM by 3of4

This was as good a place as any. M considered staying in the hotel room but figured it'd be more interesting to see the other side out in the city proper. He needed to relax. Dionysus helped, but the whole thing with the party the others were attending were only getting him worried again.

He wanted to return to the spirit world for a little while. For many it's a frighting and strange world, entirely unpredictable and filled with creatures whose purposes were confusing and destructive. But to him it was a wondrous place to explore. Another home filled with friends. Friends that wouldn't die because of his screw ups. They had rules that kept them safe.

He reached into his pocket and held a screwdriver. Not a proper screwdriver, he made it himself and it was not the most functional, so it was more of a symbolic flat-head screw driver. It was marked with words and symbols and was colored a bright orange and gold. A lot of his enchanted objects were odd in that way, nothing anyone would expect for their intended purposes and based on references only he got.

He held it before him and considered: Dramatic or non-dramatic?

He snickered and held it before him. He made some fancy faux-martial arts looking poses and then dramatically brought the screw driver the ground.

"DIVIDEEEEEEEET FERROOOOOOOOOO," He cried and light erupted from the tip of the driver with no effort need from him. he yellow energy cruised across the concrete and stopped about a yard away from him and shot up. There was a pause and then the crackling of reality being split open as a hole opened before him into the Nevernever. He got up, put it away and stepped into the world, curious to see what was in Italy's other side.

Another day, another White Court gala. It reminded Alexander of what he had missed about Rome. Each day brought something new—a whirl of sensations, beautiful masks hiding sharpened daggers, bedmates to be won, battles of wits and words to be fought. Friend and enemies were indistinguishably and mercurial, alliances treacherous and fleeting. It was the truest testing ground he knew.

At the same time—he had been glad to see it go, when his father left to Vegas.

He gave a sidelong glance to his companions—the three unknowns—Ayda, Anne, and Venari. How would they handle themselves here? Accorded ground or not, this was going to be one hell of a first mission for the two practitioners. Venari's intentions, of course, remained unknown. Lastly, there was the matter of the late lord Malrose.

It was not to be a boring evening.

He reached up, putting on the fitted leather mask he had commissioned for the occasion, and smoothed the steel-grey silk of his suit, flashing his companions a smile.

"Welcome to White Court central. Tonight's entertainment will involve a murder mystery. As in, we're going to try to find out who wants to kill me, and who killed a man named Lord Malrose."

edited 22nd May '16 12:21:33 PM by DrTentacles

Annette stepped out on the far side of the limousine, which gave her time to take in a breath before she turned around to look at the gala. The whole situation felt eerily familiar: being surrounded by vampires in fancy clothes, the possibility for things to go horribly wrong, and her grossly unprepared for what could happen. The only difference was the color of the Court. And last time, Caleb was here.

Slipping the black ribbon of her mask◊ behind her ear and tying it tight as she could Annette went to stand near Alexander Thorne and his sister and his...whatever Venari was to him, she'd find out eventually. Maybe. Do I really want to know is the question.

"Any, um, specific names t-to listen for? Or...walk away f-from very, very fast?" she spoke with an anxious attempt at a smile, adjusting the knee-length hem of the lender-dress◊ from Lelaine Thorne. It didn't fit her right in more ways than fabric, and though Jessy Thorne had done their best to fix the sizing differences, not even the jacket she added to cover her shoulders made her feel particularly comfortable in the dress. "And I...guess...how c-close should we stay to you?"

Try not to sound too scared, Annie, you might ping something's appetite.

edited 22nd May '16 12:36:00 PM by KeiranGold

"No one is above suspicion. Malrose, obviously. My family name, equally obviously. A White Court named Penelope is an ally of mine, which means she's especially suspicious."

Noting Annette's nervousness, he entertained a fleeting hope that the entire Malvora bloodline had come down with something deadly.

"Oh. I think I'd enjoy having you in my sight at all time, if possible. Adds a little something to the room."

He tried to make the glance following that statement charmingly flirtatious, and slightly chivalrous rather than a dire warning.

edited 24th May '16 9:18:05 PM by DrTentacles

This post was thumped by the Eldritch Flyswatter of Horror

Terry adjusted the dark-feathered bird mask he wore as he headed inside. Truly, the perfect disguise. Everyone knew werewolves wore their animal form on their sleeves, getting named things like Wolfgang Lupus or Siria Barker and vacationing at Wolf Lake while they read lots of Jack London and listened to She-Wolf and Werewolves of London on repeat. Obviously if one had a chance to wear an animal mask, it was damn well going to be a canid. Between that and a dark suit he had been assured was entirely tasteful, nobody should connect his current appearance to Terrence Talbot, Werewolf of Vegas.

Well, assuming they didn't ask the doorman. No scheme's ever perfect.

"Right then," he murmured to Jarl and Leon, "we've all done a great job not stabbing anyone so far. Just gotta keep it up."

Leon glances at the gladius at his hip when Terrance mentions not stabbing anyone so far, as he follows the bird mask wearing werewolf inside.

"Ideally, I won't even have to unsheathe my blade while we're here. But given what I heard about the last major party you were invited to, I suspect that won't be the case."

"This is a different crowd, though. Posh and shit. I think they're supposed to be more into catspaws and convoluted Monte Cristo bullshit than randomly starting brawls."

Annette rolled her eyes at Alexander, taking momentary advantage of her mask hiding the little gesture. "In his sight at all times". Pffah. Aren't White Court supposed to sound less cheesy and more...slimy? Eh, I can handle cheese.

But despite the flirty kidding, she could figure out that he was being serious. And right now, it helped to soothe her nerves knowing that he'd have an eye on her in the mass of things that could kill her eight ways to Sunday. Sure it was an accorded event, but that hadn't helped her much in the past.

"Alright th-then. Try not to, um, stare t-too hard...this d-dress seems highly f-flammable," she mumbled, more into the collar of her jacket than to anyone in particular. Maybe he heard her. Did vampires have better hearing?

Questions to ask Caleb...ah, and now I've made myself nervous again. I should stop doing that.

edited 24th May '16 9:17:16 PM by KeiranGold

Ayda climbed out of the near side of the limousine, one hand clutching her trusty notebook and a pen, and took in the scene. Already, there were very many people (Do they count as people?) attending the gala, swirling around gracefully, but carefully, and with well-concealed contemptuousness, like a roomful of very dignified cats. Classical music floated softly out of the venue, setting the mood as "elegantly dangerous" and sending a chill down Ayda's spine.

She fidgeted with the strap of her mask◊ and tried to avoid meeting Mr. Thorne's gaze. Their sparring session had gone a bit... off the rails, so to speak, and Ayda was still rather embarrassed about the whole thing. She took a deep breath and forced down the tiny hurricane of stress and confusion that had been whirling around inside her ever since she had left that parking garage what seemed like forever ago (which the sparring had not helped in the slightest), and instead admired her dress◊, which she had found hanging in the back of Lelaine's closet. It had been a bit dusty, but after Ayda gave it a good smack or two the dress was good as new.

After Mr. Thorne answered Annette's question about who to watch out for, Ayda promptly committed the names he said to memory. Malrose, Thorne, and Penelope. Don't trust people with those names. Got it. ...Does that include Mr. Thorne? I assume so.

Ayda's face flushed slightly. A little part of her (the cartoonish-looking bit with hearts for eyes) couldn't help thinking that maybe, just maybe, he had meant that romantically. The rest of her decided that it was just common sense, since she had it on various words (mostly Mr. Thorne's) that the party was going to be filled with what amounted to predators, both of a sexual nature and otherwise. The thought of having someone she at least sort of trusted (and knew for a fact was capable) watching her back for the evening helped calm Ayda's personal maelstrom slightly, though it still raged on in her heart. She swished her dress slightly and gave Anne what she hoped was a reassuring smile, though inwardly she wasn't feeling very confident herself.

edited 24th May '16 9:37:38 PM by Tojin

Jarl adjusted the collar of his shirt, his hands shaking just a little. Going into this room felt wrong. At heart, he had a very simple approach to problem-solving: Talk until talking fails to solve anything, then fall back in ye goode, olde fisticuffs if everything goes south.

This was a room where the latter wasn't an option. More importantly, it was a room full of vampires, among the absolute worst schemers and backstabbers in the supernatural world, likely to shiv you for a wrong word.

More importantly, there was no way of knowing who was hiding behind the mask. Who was friend and who was foe.

Of course, he thought, his fingers tightening around the collar, he'd been schooled by the very best in backstabbing and conniving, and he'd managed to steer himself true in that. He leaned down and patted Tjalfe for reassurance. Maybe he could smell what Jarl couldn't see.

This was gonna be okay.

"As long as no Spaniards appear brandishing rapiers and yelling about how we killed their parents, I'm sure we're going to be okay."

Team Fuck Loki

Terrance, Jarl, and Leon reach they great double-oak doors just in time for a pair of beautiful twenty-somethings to appear, clad in sterling white chitons. The girl's showed off plenty of cleavage, while the boy's hem was higher-cut threatening to give off more then appropriate skin levels with every step.

They pull the doors open before the group can make a motion too, and bow their heads in difference.

Right through the door is a grand ballroom full of fine suits and finer gowns. the center space was already showing off a few couples waltzing back and forth the low-volume classical music that a band was playing to the right most-wall. To the left where refreshments, and an open bar tended to by another twenty-something in a chiton. Across the dance floor, and straight forward was a pair of spiral staircases that curved in downward half-circles around a statue of Juno, Queen of Heaven. At her feet the vampires where lounging, Queen Juliana Raith the only one seated, fanning herself and laying across a carved-wood lectus tricliniaris, apparently bored by everything around her.

It's not quiet a slam, but the doors do make an impress booming sound as they close behiend the group, sealing them in with the crowd.

Team Vampire/STD Bait/A

The bald man holds out his hand, glaring as Alex, Anne, Ayda, Lelaine, and Venari approach. "Invitati-"

Venari releases his arm from Alex's before the man can finish the word and pulls off his mask, his cherry-blonde curls bouncing every so slight as he completes the motion. Color instnatly drains from the man's face.

"Cicisbeo I didn't see recognize-"

"It's alright." Venari's smile was...warm, sweet, sunny. But not real. Not to anyone capable of selling the same kind of false warmth. "The Queen is expecting us." A small touch of the arm, twinkle of the eye, the slightest shift in posture.

"I just would need to see your invitations. You know how it is- since Antivar bit the dust..." He blinks and then cusses. "Shit I didn't mean to-."

"It's fine." Venari didn't miss a beat. "But, at the risk of sounding foolish, we only have the one be invitation between the five of us, and then Queen expressed a desire to meet Baron Throne's full entourage- it's my mistake. Stupid and clerical."

The bounce gulped. "No problem. None at all. Say hello to Regina Matter for me."

And just like that he stepped aside, waving them through. Venari smirked, just when he thought no one was looking and replaced his mask.

Lelaine whistled softly into Alex's ear before Ven could rejoin them. "No wonder he gets along well with the court."

Team Nevernever

The veil splits apart, and before M can so much as blink he's standing...

In Rome. The real Rome. The original Rome. The Rome of Augusts, Nero, and all the rest.

The warm sun hangs in the near center of the sky, a orange-and-white tint covering everything. On either side M is surrounded by grand white marble rising around him and covered with Latin grifit that roughly runs along the lines of Thaddeus was here.

Underneath M's feat, is the rough earth instead of the concert of the real world, and to his right, the mouth of the alley, opening up to a street packed with carts and horses, vendors selling necklaces and bracelets.

Their all spirits- men and women made out of wind and clouds, the occasional green-skinned nymph running up and down the streets, or the stayer carrying a bundle of sticks. But there Roman, dressed in Chitons or the occasional toga, and carrying themselves with the air of the Empire, the pride of their world.

There is a skittering, as M's famialir pops the lid on the jar and scuttles onto M's shoulder, whistling, even though his clay-body shouldn't really let him. "Mille viae ducunt homines per saecula Roma"

edited 26th May '16 1:45:02 AM by LMage

"Oh hey, a statue of Juno. I hope the presence of a god most well-known for poisoned snakes, turning people into cows and other creative acts of vengeance isn't a bad omen."

"Because that would be terrible."

He heard the door slam behind him and something in the back of Jarl's mind clicked. The game was afoot. They'd a job to do. And if all went well, it was going to be mayhem at the end of it. That other half of them, the other guy who occasionally reared his head, was almost a little overjoyed at the prospect. The hunt was on. He realized he was grinning.

"Well, then. Game on."

M was awestruck. Sometimes it was a gamble, what the spirit world held at any particular time or place, however in this case it was though he stepped through a time machine, his senses filled with the sounds of an ancient Rome, much grander than the modern day counterpart he left behind.

He had no idea where to begin, his attention already considering the bracelets and trinkets in carts that passed by when his little Loa approached, not in any particular guise other than a facsimile of the fetish he usually had for him.

"Every road no matter which reality...." M mused with a small smile, recognizing the Latin Ntikuma spoke. A smile that quickly turned snide when he looked at this god again.

"So you've been keeping close watch after all. Some personal god you are, letting me get caught up with the local wine spirit. I should be ask for a refund," M muttered sardonically.

Alexander gave a Venari smile that read somewhere between praising and sardonic.

"Thanks."

He leaned in back to Liliane, voice low enough that only the two of them should be able to hear it.

"He certainly can flirt. I'd be more impressed if he allowed me to speak. He keeps...jumping in."

edited 26th May '16 6:59:44 PM by DrTentacles

"Glad someone's having fun," Terry murmured, eyes already drawn to the free food. "Drugging the nibbles would probably be gauchely unsubtle, yeah? Hard to aim, too," he added as he started drifting over in that direction.

Leon resisted the urge to stare at the excess of cleavage on the female servant that had opened the door, and instead devoted himself towards scanning the room. In particular looking for the VIPS to know who to avoid and where ever the music box might be. He contemplated for a few scant seconds on hitting up the bar, but figured, it probably would be best if he didn't. He's never really drank alcohol before, and this was quite possibly the worst possible party to take that for a spin for the first time.

He rested his right hand on the hilt of his sword, and started tapping on it somewhat nervously. "Yeah, the food should be fine. If only because of hospitality. I think drugging guests in the middle of Rome, in a supernatural shindig, is a really really quick way to get lightning bolts up one's ass."