Edge Town-City of Light

"Oh dammit, what did you do?" asked Terry as he tried to eyeball how viable vaulting the ring of fire would be. It said a lot about his life that his reaction to the threat of spontaneous immolation was less frightened than frustrated.

Leon opens his eyes at the sudden feeling of heat filling the room.

"Huh. Well at least we don't have to worry about the winter chill for a bit."

He eyes the ring of fire warily, wondering just how hot it really was. Trying to dive right through it would be painful one way or the other, but if he did it fast, and cloak first, he could probably avoid the worst of it. But that would be the emergency plan if they didn't figure out a safer way first.

"So we clearly just sprung a trap of some kind. How long do you think it'll be til whoever or whatever set the trap shows up?"

Leon briefly summoned up his magic to see if the ring of fire was also functioning as a circle to cut them off or not. It was nothing more then a simple light cantrip on his shield focus.

They Fell Into A Burning Ring of Fire

Tim tried, but it really was no use. Something still felt like it was jamming a thumb into his Sight, and the more he tried to push against it, the deeper it went, and the worst the headache got. In fact, it was starting to get to the point where he could feel his knees getting wobbly, which is the absolute last thing you want to happen when you're surrounded on all sides by a ring of fire.

Leon's shield lit up just fine. Whatever had caused the fire, it wasn't interfering with their ability to use magic. Then, as if by magic, when he asked the question of 'who sprung the ambush showing themselves,' Terry suddenly felt something press against his cheek. Then, a split second later, a lance of pain went up through his jaw, and he realised two things:

First, he was currently staggering, and his mouth tasted like iron.

Two, someone had just punched him in the face. But the darndest thing was that whoever had just performed this dastardly act was not visible. He hadn't even felt a faint disturbance of air as someone had hit him like an oncoming freight train. Also, in being staggered backwards, he was perilously close to those flames, and boy did they ever feel hot.

Jarl

The man watched Jarl with prenatural stillness the sorcerer approached, Bruno following a step behind. When Jarl was a few steps from him, the man stood. He was just about the same height as Jarl.

“I would not be alone were I here for blood.” The man replied, locking eyes with Jarl, either unafraid or uncaring of a soulgaze. His voice was rough, with a faint Scandinavian accent that oddly, Jarl couldn’t place. Somewhere rural. “Nor alone. Nor in sight.”

The smell of thick animal musk came from the man. Oddly, it was a little like what Tjalfe smelled like. The man’s nostrils flared, as though he were searching for a scent as well.

After a moment, the stillness broke, and the man started to move more like a person—but not exactly. Instead, he rocked from foot to foot like an excited child, almost bouncing in place.

“Geri.” He growled by way of introduction, reaching out with a weathered hand tipped by stubby, pointed yellow nails to clasp Jarl’s wrist—a handshake, sort of? “Of the house of Vadderung. We have met. Is the boy yours? I carry news.”

Edited by DrTentacles on Mar 29th 2019 at 4:39:09 AM

Jarl

Oh, fuck me. Jarl felt a cold chill run down his spine when the wolf shook his hand. Because that's what was behind that mask. It might, for all intents and purposes, look like a person, but Jarl knew the name, and he knew its reputation. Geri and Freki were the lesser-known servants of the Allfather, The Ravenous and the Greedy, the wolves who were snapping at his heels.

Tjalfe recognized him too. Or, at least, the wolf was like its companion - too brave or too stupid to know when to fold 'em. His fur stood slightly on end, and he bared his teeth as Geri approached, saliva dripping onto the frozen ground until Jarl managed to wave a hand to calm him down. He didn't want anybody to get hurt, Tjalfe least of all. Jarl dared to clasp his wrist back, just barely meeting Geri's eyes, wary. Huginn and Muninn were too spooky for him to soulgaze. He wasn't going to try with a beast just as powerful and much, much more vicious.

"We have. He's not mine, but he's with me. You can speak freely." He forced himself to keep his tone neutral, maybe a little on the proactive side. Showing too much weakness might just convince Geri to go for the jugular. He needed to show some spine.

Alexander

Alexander couldn't decide whether to snicker, or sigh on relief at Ms Wagner's response. He expected the little alchemist's issues were going to be harder solved than he'd like, but that was the price of the job, wasn't it?

The fact that she had a biting sense of humor certainly helped it seem more worthwhile.

~~~~~~~

As a criminal, dealing with the law was always a gamble. Sometimes, contrary to common sense, you actually had less to fear than your average, nominally law-abiding citizen. After all, Alexander was wealthy, foreign, and unlike your average sclub, had a pretty good idea of what he had to hide. Someone like him could be very inconvenient to investigate as a cop, and very lucrative to ignore.

Of course, some officers didn’t care about any of those things—taking down a foreign vice dealer with a history in armed violence had the potential to be a great career-boost, the sort of arrest that was a fast track to promotions, fame, and a lucrative book deal.

It was very important to figure out which type of police you were dealing with before you appeared on their radar.

That’s why Alexander had decided to call Sebastian Rodriguez first. He could have gone to the Duchesse, but he had a pretty good idea what sort of price she would ask for. The Poisoners, on the other hand, were a wild card. They’d offered help, however.

Besides, Benjamin Franklin had written that the best way to befriend someone was ask them for a favor. It wasn’t an approach that Alexander was used to, but the dead old American could almost have been a White Court himself with the rumors of his exploits.

A few minutes after his conversation with Ms Wagner, Alexander was curled up on the windowsill again, phone in hand, eyeing the scrap of paper he’d been given two nights ago.

At least true love doesn’t transfer over the phone.

He dialed in the number, and the moment someone picked up, spoke in the best “calm and measured” tone he could muster.

“Mr Rodriguez? Alexander Thorne here. I might need to ask for a favor.”

Edited by DrTentacles on Mar 30th 2019 at 9:47:33 AM

"Invisible? Oh fuck off!" Terry yelled as he staggered back. Being nearly knocked into the flames by some jackass without the decency to be visible both pissed him off and gave him an idea, a combination that most observers would find concerning.

"It's got fists, whatever it is," Terry called as, with the practiced speed of a skinchanger, he yanked off his shirt and dipped the end of one long sleeve in the fire until it caught alight. That gave him a flaming weapon he could whip in front of him. He didn't expect to set the invisible asshole on fire or anything, but it should at least give them less room to maneuver and, significantly, less opportunity to sucker-punch Terry like a goddamn chode.

Unless the guy who decided to fight in a fire barrier was fireproof, in which case they'd at least gotten another piece of info.

Edited by rikalous on Mar 29th 2019 at 2:16:24 AM

What A Twist

Well, Terry should have been left with a burning rag where he had a perfectly nice shirt before.

Only, he continued to have a very nice shirt. And there wasn't even a hint of any burnination on it. The fire hadn't caught. If anything, it felt eerily cold instead. Rime started trailing up the collar where Terry'd stuck it in the fire.

____________________________________________________________

Alex

"Ah, hello there mister Thorne." At least Rodriguez sounded like he was in a good mood. "Well, depending on the kind of favor, I will do my best to provide some assistance. What do you need?"

"Why," said Terry, in the calm voice of someone who has passed beyond the agitation of mere anger, "is the fire cold." He brandished the semi-frozen shirt like he was demanding to speak with the manager about it. "Fire has thus far been reliably hot. Even when I nearly fell into it it felt hot. I found the consistency comforting. Are there truly any constants left in this world beyond me getting punched in the face?"

Edited by rikalous on Mar 29th 2019 at 2:36:43 AM

"...fire that feels hot but is actually cold? The hell?"

Leon stepped closer to Terrance since it turns out he didn't have a flaming shirt fail, mostly in case one of them got slugged hard again the other would be in a better position to ensure they didn't get frozen in the fire ring. He slid into a guarded stance as he pondered how to deal with the invisible entity that was attacking them. If Tim's situation was any indication, the Sight wasn't an option here for one reason or another.

"Chroma, you picking anything up asides from us three?" he asked his handy shoulder familiar.

The Church Boys

Chroma tapped the side of their head, then shrugged. "I...hmm, what's the feeling? Disappointment? Wait! It's gone now!"

As if punctuating the tiny painterly familiar's words, the wall of fire parted for less than a second, and almost as suddenly, Leon and Tim (though Tim was still struggling with Regrets) felt a slightly tingle in the air around them.

Then, the 'fires' began to swirl and dance, slowly moving inward, threatening to, through means unknown, freeze them all. Or, at least, give them a real bad case of frostbite.

Also, Terry felt another tap on his face, though this one was less an outright knock-out punch and more of a condescending boop on the nose. It didn't even feel like a hand had touched him, more like a slight nudge.

Alexander

No businessman liked to conduct important business over the phone. Reading vocal intonations alone was so much harder than having a face to react to. Beyond that, it was especially galling for a White Court—the hunger didn’t exactly work long-distance.

Then again, if phone sex hotlines managed, Alexander would find a way. Just...maybe not off the bat.

“My sister got picked up by the police. I suspect it’s old family business, rather than her fault, but I haven’t been able to look at the charges. If I’m right...well, it may be more than a matter of bail.” Alexander explained, pulling a pen out of his pocket and spinning it so he had something to toy with. It helped him sound calmer. “Your group mentioned assistance—I know it’s very early, but…”

Hot ice fire was not a problem Terry was particularly well-equipped to deal with. An invisible asshole, though? That he had some ideas for. So when his new friend booped him, he was ready to whip his arms up to grab where a limb would go, hoping to restrain them at the one moment he knew their position.

You know, assuming they were slow enough to catch.

And their anatomy worked more or less like he thought it did.

And they had for some reason chosen to stick around to boop in person, rather than bailing before they set off the trash compactor. Hey, it was worth a shot.

"You mooks got a magic thing that can fix this, or do we just climb Tim to safety?"

Edited by rikalous on Mar 31st 2019 at 10:16:33 AM

"As amusing as that would be..."

Leon grabs Tim, who still hadn't seem to have come out of whatever funk was messing with him, as the ring starts shrinking, pulling him close to himself and Terrance as he focuses his will into his shield focus, creating a wedge of energy that he forces backwards into the contracting ring of freezing flames, to hopefully give them safe passage through them and out of the ring. He was quite thankful for once since coming to Paris he actually had his focus and wasn't over an abundance of running water.

Edited by Kosjurake on Apr 2nd 2019 at 3:20:16 PM

Tim just focused on trying to build up his mental shields against the agony and let himself be pulled by Leon.

Church Boys

Almost as soon as Leon started feeling the tugs on his mind that so often accompanied the shaping of magical energies, something peculiar happened. The fire that had raged just a few short moments ago completely vanished, leaving nothing behind to indicate it was ever there in the first place. The marble floor below where, just prior, the flames had begun to rage inward towards the trio, didn't even look the least bit scuffed.

And there was laughter. They couldn't tell where it was coming from - it seemed to echo from all around the building at once - but it was there, occasionally punctuated by an extremely condescending slow clap that also seemed like it echoed throughout the church.

Tim's head, meanwhile, was still agony. No amount of shielding seemed to actually lessen the pain. However, something about the sliver of information that was filtering through his forcibly-closed third eye seemed...familiar, somehow, though placing it through the miasma of pain was difficult.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alex

"That we had. I take it you would very much like to know what kind of information the authorities have on your sister?" Rodriguez didn't sound like he was gloating. If anything, he sounded genuinely curious about the state of affairs. "I would need to reach some friends in the police department. It might take a few hours before I can pass an answer on to you."

Edited by math792d on Apr 2nd 2019 at 8:55:36 PM

Tim closed his Third Eye and fought the urge to dig out the not-quite-legal 1600 mg Ibuprofen from his bag. "Something about this is...familiar." he groaned as he tried to get his normal vision back into focus.

As Tim closed the Sight, the pain almost immediately subsided, becoming little more than a dull ache at the back of his mind. On the plus side, the memory of it wouldn't haunt him forever. However, that sliver of 'familiar' that he'd noticed become a lot more clear as the pain receded. Something about all of this reminded him...

Well, it reminded him a little of Jarl. It reminded him a little more of the few times he'd seen Vadderung use magic in the same way mortals used magic, as opposed to as pure manifestation of will.

Most of all, though, it reminded him somewhat strongly of Loki.

"The magic...I think it is Aesir." He said, his wits finally returning. And then..."Or maybe, it's Aesir-related."

"Norse-flavored illusions?" Terry frowned. "That sounds suspiciously jotuny. If Jarl bailed on an opportunity to nail giants in the face with lightning I am going to rub his face in it so hard."

Alexander

“My alternative involves an woman who feeds on fear.” Alexander replied, his voice turning wry. “I suppose I can wait a few hours. At worst, I’ll be properly marinated.”

Rodrigo’s curiosity didn’t offend Alexander. If anything, it was preferable to sympathy.

“My thanks. Is there anything you need?” Alexander asked. To tell the truth, he was a little curious about the Poisoner as well.

Edited by DrTentacles on Apr 3rd 2019 at 9:40:02 AM

Jarl

Geri glanced down at Tjalfe, a strange note of warmth in the wolf-man’s eyes.

“Proud pup.” Geri growled. It was likely that that he saw Tjafle as something like a cocksure young teenager—less a threat, more of an over-eager youth.

There was far less warmth in his eyes when he turned back to Jarl. Not hostile, either, but maybe more dangerous for that. If the wolf-man were to tear out Jarl’s throat, it would be as natural and untainted by anger as any other hunt.

“Mr Vadderung is checking in. Has questions. Bail money.” Geri stated, shifting back and forth on his feet in again in his odd, child-like bounce. “And what you found last night.”

Leon released his grip on Tim when the flames went away and sighed in annoyance at the entire situation. Not only did they not get anything useful to track the necromancer that did something to the angry ghosts, now they had an invisible jotun just messing with them... and that was probably Loki then.

"So, was there a point to all this beyond it being amusing to you? Or are we done here?"

Leon wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with an invisible prankster when they had a necromancer to track down.

Church Boys

The laughter eventually died down, though echoes continued to linger in the air. Eventually, a shape materialized just in front of them.

When people conjure in their minds the Jotun, they usually picture giants. Towering figures of raw, primal strength, with arms like oak tree trunks and footsteps that shake the earth as they walk. Monstrous caricatures of men and women blown up to unnatural proportions, driven primarily by anger and raw power.

...She was like five feet. Five two, tops.

She didn't look all that unusual. A woman somewhere in her late 40's, the first spots of grey hair appearing in a mane that was otherwise a deep, vibrant brown, dressed in clothes that wouldn't look all that unusual for a Parisian winter. She was still clapping as the illusion disappeared, and the gesture still echoed through the room.

"Congratulations," she said, speaking in pronounced RP with an almost sneering regal-ness to it. "You're not as stupid as you look. No, I'm afraid we're not quite done here, but in honor of you managing to not get yourselves killed doing something ignorant and stupid, I thought I would at least dignify you with an introduction. I am Brynja of the folk of Jotunheimr, and the necromancer you are looking for is long gone. I just placed a lure that I knew would drag you in."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jarl

"Well, let's start with what I saw last night, so that way the Old Man gets to deliver a scathing retort by proxy at the end." He was regaining a little bit of his glibness, if not his courage. "It was a necromantic ritual meant to invoke Mimir. No two ways about it. Well full of magic, skull inside, some kind of creature living in the well that was being sculpted by necromancy. I deleted the whole thing, but I don't think it was the only place they were trying to pull off a ritual like this. Or at least, the people who were behind that one are still alive." He shrugged. "I'm still working on fixing that."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alex

"Not at present, no. And while I certainly do not know who put a thumb in the eye of a criminal organization that deals in delivering firearms to deeply unsavory groups, if I happened across that person, I would certainly owe them a small favor like digging up some old, probably-defunct criminal records." Rodriguez let out a small laugh. "If you would like an elaboration, I can always come to you with the results in person."

Tim looked...down and raised an eyebrow. "Wizard Timotheus von Hochberg, of the White Council." He introduced himself politely before asking "And why would you place that lure?"