Musica Mundana: Spiritual Engineering

[Anarion]

"You're being sarcastic," said the plump Seer. He took a drink, waved his hand. "It's fine. If it were anyone else you were talking to this would be the proper reaction. But it's true. I am the devil. And I know... everything,"

He took a deep sniff, and puts his arm around your shoulders.

Hold it, stop, freeze frame right here. [Wits+Composure: 4, 3, 10, 4, 9, 4, 3, 1. 10 again is a 10, then a 7. 3 successes. Keynes gets to react before he's grabbed unless the Seer matches 3 successes on Dex+Stealth.]

[Thanqol]

Hold it, stop, freeze frame right here. [Wits+Composure: 4, 3, 10, 4, 9, 4, 3, 1. 10 again is a 10, then a 7. 3 successes. Keynes gets to react before he's grabbed unless the Seer matches 3 successes on Dex+Stealth.]

He makes that roll - when I say freakishly fast I'm talking 'active enhancement magic' fast. If you were a Sleeper that'd definitely be pushing the limits of the Veil without quite being a breach yet.

[Anarion]

He makes that roll - when I say freakishly fast I'm talking 'active enhancement magic' fast. If you were a Sleeper that'd definitely be pushing the limits of the Veil without quite being a breach yet.

Then Keynes is caught. The smell of the man's breath is disgusting, and the sniffing. That sound of sniffing, right in Keynes ears is horrific. A mage can be filled with all sorts of cosmic power, but he's still a human, and the animal part of his brain cares about precisely one thing at this moment: getting away from that horrible sniffing right in his ears. It's absolutely impossible to stand. That part of Keynes brain would happily, gleefully kill the man at this instant to stop the sniffing, would set the whole room on fire and fling the both of them to their doom to make it stop.

It is, perhaps, the pure adrenaline that such a reaction unleashes that allows Keynes to muster up practically supernatural strength of his own without any magic and shove the man away from him, regaining his footing in just an instant. Or perhaps it's not even Keynes and the effects of the PCP reaction are worse than the fat man anticipated. But whatever it may be, Keynes somehow pulls himself free and takes up a stance that won't be quite so easily thrown again.

[Chance die to escape: 10. Reflexive activation of time armor for 1 mana brings Keynes up to 11 defense. Initiative roll is a 1, so Keynes acts at initiative 9, probably after the Seer.]

"I find your perspective grotesque" is all Keynes says as he prepares for whatever is to come next.

[Raz_Fox]

Rebecca is confused - she still has a point of firm opposition despite her haphazard psychic blow. Picture a drunken man realizing his first punch has missed - awkwardly he sways and attempts to balance himself, taking in the scene a little more before making another more careful attempt than his first clumsy blow. This time she is bypassing the crowd all together and focusing on your mind directly, grasping around to find something she can use against you - an attempt to grab your shirt and hold you still so future blows can be launched more firmly.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" said Rebecca, frowning a little as she begins to come off autopilot. "Because you obviously seem to know me."

"I'm a guide, Ms. Beasley. And, if I may be frank- you are talented. Fantastically so. And you are wasting your talent on a scale that has become the talk of Sydney." All true, technically speaking. Compass is using some of the vaunted cunning of the Silver Ladder here, trying to push Rebecca into the right mindset. "Do you even have ambition, or is all this-" She makes a gesture at the room and its tense, barbed conversations. "The limit of what you can do? If you walked that maze, what would you do when you came out the other side? Take a selfie and post it on Instagram so that the world can keep looking at your face?"

She takes a flute of champagne off a tray and sips it, watching the emotions on Beasley's face, even as she sweats, trying to brush aside the hooks that Rebecca throws out on instinct, trying to wrap their way into her mind. "When you know what you want, live like it. Good evening, Ms. Beasley."

And with that, if possible, Compass shifts from the distance band of Speaking to Rebecca into the distance band of Thinking about Rebecca. There is a very good chance she just pressed too hard, too fast- but it's so frustrating. Thank God she never entered Pandemonium. The Mind is a terrible thing to have mastery over, and those who possess its power are held to a high standard.

What a wild wreck of a person.

Could she even Awaken here, or would she have to move away, to change cities, in order to see?

A city without Awakening. What keeps these people away from the sky?

[Thanqol]

Then Keynes is caught. The smell of the man's breath is disgusting, and the sniffing. That sound of sniffing, right in Keynes ears is horrific. A mage can be filled with all sorts of cosmic power, but he's still a human, and the animal part of his brain cares about precisely one thing at this moment: getting away from that horrible sniffing right in his ears. It's absolutely impossible to stand. That part of Keynes brain would happily, gleefully kill the man at this instant to stop the sniffing, would set the whole room on fire and fling the both of them to their doom to make it stop.

It is, perhaps, the pure adrenaline that such a reaction unleashes that allows Keynes to muster up practically supernatural strength of his own without any magic and shove the man away from him, regaining his footing in just an instant. Or perhaps it's not even Keynes and the effects of the PCP reaction are worse than the fat man anticipated. But whatever it may be, Keynes somehow pulls himself free and takes up a stance that won't be quite so easily thrown again.

[Chance die to escape: 10. Reflexive activation of time armor for 1 mana brings Keynes up to 11 defense. Initiative roll is a 1, so Keynes acts at initiative 9, probably after the Seer.]

"I find your perspective grotesque" is all Keynes says as he prepares for whatever is to come next.

There's no flicker of recognition when your Time shield goes up - this guy has no skill in the Time Arcana. He's not an Acanthus and you just got ridiculously lucky because he still believes you're a Sleeper. (He didn't recognize Compass using Prime magic earlier which rules out Obrimos as well)

"You think I like this?" hissed the Seer. "You think I like having this responsibility? You haven't taken responsibility for anything in your life. You have no idea the suffering better men go through on your behalf."

He takes a moment to weigh up lunging at you - there is the craze of the drugs in his eyes, naked aggression filtered through the lens of hostile Pandemonium. The move doesn't come. It's not the 'rational mind applies willpower and forces the body to back down', it instead settles into an ongoing state of tension. He's not letting this go, he's just waiting for something.

Now that you know you've got a free hand with Time, you know that what he's waiting for will happen within 20-30 minutes. Possibly less, but you'll be able to sense the change when it moves into the final stages of the countdown.

"I'm a guide, Ms. Beasley. And, if I may be frank- you are talented. Fantastically so. And you are wasting your talent on a scale that has become the talk of Sydney." All true, technically speaking. Compass is using some of the vaunted cunning of the Silver Ladder here, trying to push Rebecca into the right mindset. "Do you even have ambition, or is all this-" She makes a gesture at the room and its tense, barbed conversations. "The limit of what you can do? If you walked that maze, what would you do when you came out the other side? Take a selfie and post it on Instagram so that the world can keep looking at your face?"

She takes a flute of champagne off a tray and sips it, watching the emotions on Beasley's face, even as she sweats, trying to brush aside the hooks that Rebecca throws out on instinct, trying to wrap their way into her mind. "When you know what you want, live like it. Good evening, Ms. Beasley."

And with that, if possible, Compass shifts from the distance band of Speaking to Rebecca into the distance band of Thinking about Rebecca. There is a very good chance she just pressed too hard, too fast- but it's so frustrating. Thank God she never entered Pandemonium. The Mind is a terrible thing to have mastery over, and those who possess its power are held to a high standard.

What a wild wreck of a person.

Your words here don't make an impact at all; they weren't couched in the language and logic of Pandemonium. You can see demons snatch them out of the air and feast on the ideals of the angels like a fisherman sucks the guts of lobsters. They hollow out the sentiment and leaving empty and confusing noises to hit Rebecca's ears. Ambition? Ambition is another demon still, wrapping his arms around Rebecca's shoulders and telling her how she can change the world, prove you wrong. Desire? Desire kneels at her feet and licks her ankles. You see her attention turn to those two on your advice and they are delighted to guide her restless will.

Your conversation here was not all a failure; you had moments of connection, and you did not do harm, but you did not help either.

Could she even Awaken here, or would she have to move away, to change cities, in order to see?

A city without Awakening. What keeps these people away from the sky?

There must be a mechanism, and that mechanism must have a manifestation in the Fallen World.

Percival was obsessed with this the last time you met him. Then he went off the grid and had his cabal start mass producing mothmen with the intention of tearing down the Harbour Bridge. Mad or enlightened? That's one angle you could follow up.

Perhaps you'd be able to observe the mechanism if you could just push a potential Mage a little closer to the line. If the barrier (curse?) was active constantly it'd be visible, observable - you'd see Rebecca's soul slamming up against it right now. If she encounters a moment of gnosis that could genuinely push her over that line and you observed what happened when she failed to Awaken you'd learn more. Whatever it was, it would have to be visible then.

(And you do not need to do this alone. It takes humility to accept that Pandemonium is beyond your current understanding, and the Order will respect that. You're part of a global wizard conspiracy in and of yourself, and you are also good friends with Keynes, a mage from an Order intimately familiar with Awakening. Either one of you can use your Order Status to call in a Mentor from out of town to go over this problem in more detail and help you carry through on your theories.)

[Anarion]

There's no flicker of recognition when your Time shield goes up - this guy has no skill in the Time Arcana. He's not an Acanthus and you just got ridiculously lucky because he still believes you're a Sleeper. (He didn't recognize Compass using Prime magic earlier which rules out Obrimos as well)

"You think I like this?" hissed the Seer. "You think I like having this responsibility? You haven't taken responsibility for anything in your life. You have no idea the suffering better men go through on your behalf."

He takes a moment to weigh up lunging at you - there is the craze of the drugs in his eyes, naked aggression filtered through the lens of hostile Pandemonium. The move doesn't come. It's not the 'rational mind applies willpower and forces the body to back down', it instead settles into an ongoing state of tension. He's not letting this go, he's just waiting for something.

Now that you know you've got a free hand with Time, you know that what he's waiting for will happen within 20-30 minutes. Possibly less, but you'll be able to sense the change when it moves into the final stages of the countdown.

"I cannot abide the way you have spoken about my friends." Keynes maintains his stance. He's not going to rush the guy, but neither is he letting his guard down. He is just going to speak. "I care not what responsibilities you have. You may well be Lucifer, set by the very order of the heavens to act as foe to humanity, and yet it still does not excuse your rudeness, nor make your lies into truth. You are also something of a coward, I should say, trying a surprise attack rather than fighting man to man."

[Thanqol]

Once upon a party dreary, while she pondered on the theory,
Over the deep subtleties of Awakened lore -
While she pondered, mind a'wandered, suddenly there came a clapping
As if some dancer swiftly tapping, clapping on the dance floor.
"'Tis some drunkard," she muttered, "clapping on the dance floor
- only this and nothing more."

Presently, her soul grew stronger, hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said she, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore,
"But the fact is I was thinking and so wildly you came clapping
"And so surly your hands were clapping, clapping on the dance floor
"That I tried to ignore you," and here, she turned to gaze upon the floor -
- Lily was there, and nothing more.

Back into contemplation turning, all her soul within her burning,
Soon again Compass heard a sound somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said Lily, "this party is doomed to madness, springing from the hostess,
"So let us see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let our hearts be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
So we are not exploded across the dance floor!"

But Compass, sitting lonely on the violet couch, spoke not
One word, as if in contemplation of the dancer her soul did outpour.
Nothing further that she uttered - not a word that she muttered
Till the silence Lily cluttered "And the drinks have been drugged before -
"Within the hour she will clap her fingers and the timer's fuse will linger -"
Then Compass said, "Nevermore."

"I cannot abide the way you have spoken about my friends." Keynes maintains his stance. He's not going to rush the guy, but neither is he letting his guard down. He is just going to speak. "I care not what responsibilities you have. You may well be Lucifer, set by the very order of the heavens to act as foe to humanity, and yet it still does not excuse your rudeness, nor make your lies into truth. You are also something of a coward, I should say, trying a surprise attack rather than fighting man to man."

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer,
Swung by spirit-shades whos feet rumpled the tufted floor,
"Wretch," he cried, "thy God stands with me - and by these angels he has sent me -
Respite from thy arrogance upon me on this, the dance floor
Fie, fie and flee, and no more beset me or thy life shall be"
He quaffed the liquor, "Nevermore!"

[PhoeKun]

TIMELINE 1

A lot of it is incomprehensible, like trying to predict the behaviour of birds by reading their DNA code. This is programming that's interfacing with instincts and it's incredibly advanced. Not alien - it's coded in English, just using ideas humans haven't had yet.

But there is a data centre full of plaintext facts; pieces of information that are meant to be accessed in the format of a fully-formed thought or memory. And the content of it is pretty mindblowing: It's a list of facts about other kinds of common, predatory supernaturals. Vampires have negative reactions to sunlight and fire. Their primary method of defense is a psychic effect that obscures their presence in observers minds. Secondarily, they can demonstrate inhuman speed. They need to kill once a week to feed, or take smaller doses multiple times...

This information focuses on grouping habits, defenses and mechanisms to identify and kill. If someone wanted to give a bunch of Sleepers all the knowledge they needed to go out, hunt and violently murder all kinds of supernatural monsters it would probably look a lot like this.

Ooh, paydirt! You know how sometimes you accidentally create a race of self replicating cyborgs with brain computers that can be influenced by the specialty of a guy you've just met who introduced himself by agreeing to work with you but then cautioned you that he was pretty much guaranteed to betray you and steal all of your work someday, and then the cyborg you created converts an entire police precinct in the time it takes you to go to the zoo, and despite being the driving force behind all of this happening you still have no idea what they're actually supposed to do? No? Just me?

Oh. Well, trust me, it's really scary. But this stuff changes a lot, because if you look at this database in the context of one hundred percent of converts so far being cops (other than, you know, Patient Ze-- hm. Note to self: invent better prototype nomenclature), it's enough to form a valid hypothesis. There's a future on the horizon, and it's glittering and beautiful. As long as I can still see that in front of me, honestly, I can put up with a lot.

You can make a Wits+Empathy roll at -4 if you care to.

Hahaha, I wish. Dude's a sphinx. Wrapped in an enigma. Wrapped in prosciutto. I got nothin'. It's cool though, I trust him. That's a choice I made.

There are a bunch of people hanging around in the lobby of the station. Two people are running some sort of charity collection thing and there's a bunch of bystanders milling around there chatting. There are a couple of people at the security desk but this is more an administrative branch, not a station with extensive holding cells so there aren't that many members of the public. It's a fairly large room, clear lines of sight, a glass case filled with various sporting trophies.

Abigail is happily chatting to a Korean plainclothes detective (who's frankly overdressed for this kind of weather), and after a few minutes a group of uniformed officers will shuffle out into the lobby standing in a very close formation - they're your guys, and they look kind of jumpy.

Nervous shuffling meets a bright, eager smile. Lily smooths out a wrinkle in her vest and gives the assembled crowd a small wave, determined to put her best foot forward.

"Hello, thanks for coming out so politely! My name's Lily Mason, and I'm... hm, what's the best way to put this? Okay, for the purposes of this conversation, consider me a computer scientist and robotics engineer. I mean, to be perfectly honest with you the most technically accurate job description would be 'Wizard' or I guess 'Mage', but you all probably maybe definitely don't care about all that. I think. The point is, I'm very very qualified to talk to you about any recent... um, changes you may be experiencing. I don't want to panic anybody, but the long and short of things is that your bodies have become host to a supercolony of nanomachines, you know, super duper tiny robots that have gone and made a bunch of modifications to your bodies. Enhanced strength, reflexes, physical toughness, I'm also pretty sure any pre-existing medical conditions any of you might have been dealing with are pretty well gone now, so that's neat!

Anyway, I, I'm sure there's a hundred different things on your minds and I'm going to answer any questions you have to the best of my ability, but please just know that my number one priority for all of you moving forward is to make sure you're safe and happy. Believe me, there are huge changes coming to this city and I know that sounds ominous but you and I, us, we are going to make things so much better for so many people, and I just... I'm your friend, okay? More than anybody you'll meet for the rest of your lives, I'm here to help."


TIMELINE 2

So here's what's weird. You see the moment when she decides that she doesn't like you, and it's not the usual expression of 'ew' or 'oh god why am I talking to this person'. It's an expression of relief. She actually looks genuinely happy when she sees the conversation go south, and that death-wish in her heart thumps a little louder.

"Oh, I see," she says, "you're a gatecrasher! How exciting! What a scandal! Please, take a drink -" she hadn't actually offered you one before now, "- and make yourself at home. I'm sure with a wit like that you'll impress a lot of people before the night is through! Oh - Skylar!" she says, catching sight of someone else and drifting away from you.

The Supernal creature with the flaming crown watches you with interest, but you don't feel the same sense of pressure as when you met The Hounds. It's curious about you and what you do but it doesn't seem like its life depends on you in the same way the other entities you encountered have.

Lily sees the rejection painted in the other woman's eyes, and it cuts much deeper than normal because there's no tinge of disgust. It's not estrangement or derision, but recognition and withdrawal. She can see her hand reaching out into the darkness, and instead of finding another very much like hers, she only startles the shadows and makes them shrink away and coil tighter around the crumbling soul of a woman lost to Death but without the wisdom to draw any real power from that. Her head turns, and sad eyes soak up the sight of the Supernal being watching her watch it.

"So what do you see in her, I wonder?" she muttered the question idly, knowing better than to expect an answer and given recent experiences rather doubting that getting one would be good for anybody here, "I dig the horseman look. Very chic. I'd love to get to know you better, but I have to go punk our hostess now."

And Lily drifted off, but caught up in the flow of Rebecca's verge and in a place she wasn't really equipped to understand, she could only really float across the waves of space that formed the party space. And while she drifted, her shadow stayed behind, flirting coyly with the figure with the crown of flaming jewels, enraptured and silent. Across banal conversations and mystifying imagery, Lily slips around the room like a verse trapped inside the meter of a poem, straining to express herself but confined by the form around her on the page. She still has the drugged champagne in her hand, untouched.

And she knows, step one should be to whip up an antidote after all, but because she's Lily and she's lonely and there's so very few footholds for her to step on anywhere, the currents inevitably carry her to Compass, where the words tumble out of her lips about everything she'd seen.

[Thanqol]

TIMELINE 1

Nervous shuffling meets a bright, eager smile. Lily smooths out a wrinkle in her vest and gives the assembled crowd a small wave, determined to put her best foot forward.

"Hello, thanks for coming out so politely! My name's Lily Mason, and I'm... hm, what's the best way to put this? Okay, for the purposes of this conversation, consider me a computer scientist and robotics engineer. I mean, to be perfectly honest with you the most technically accurate job description would be 'Wizard' or I guess 'Mage', but you all probably maybe definitely don't care about all that. I think. The point is, I'm very very qualified to talk to you about any recent... um, changes you may be experiencing. I don't want to panic anybody, but the long and short of things is that your bodies have become host to a supercolony of nanomachines, you know, super duper tiny robots that have gone and made a bunch of modifications to your bodies. Enhanced strength, reflexes, physical toughness, I'm also pretty sure any pre-existing medical conditions any of you might have been dealing with are pretty well gone now, so that's neat!

Anyway, I, I'm sure there's a hundred different things on your minds and I'm going to answer any questions you have to the best of my ability, but please just know that my number one priority for all of you moving forward is to make sure you're safe and happy. Believe me, there are huge changes coming to this city and I know that sounds ominous but you and I, us, we are going to make things so much better for so many people, and I just... I'm your friend, okay? More than anybody you'll meet for the rest of your lives, I'm here to help."

A change hits the officers after you finish speaking; it's subtle but intimidating. They go from a bunch of nervous people, each carrying a deep and deadly secret, to a pack. They're unified, predatory, and deeply capable of violence. Fortunately, Death Sight indicates that you're in no immediate physical danger.

They defer to the largest of them, an extremely tall man with a bald head and short red beard, who speaks to you in a low voice. "This is some mad science bullsh*t," he said, "and I speak for all of us when I say that you should probably be in jail for it. But. If this knowledge you have put in our heads is true then I can see why you did it. Every man in this station has a folder full of weird unsolved cases hanging around their necks like an anchor. Invisible perps, cameras that don't work, exsanguinations, cannibalism - every one of us has seen enough sh*t to question their reality. Now we know."

He thought for a moment, exchanged a series of meaningful glances with the other officers like wolves assessing their packmates. "We're not going to say thank you. But we are going to do the job. And if the stuff you put in us goes bad you're first on the list. Here," he gives you a card with his name and number - Sargent Nathan Tripswitch. "Treat us like a superhero team and not a science experiment and everyone will be happy."

[Anarion]

TIMELINE 1

TIMELINE 1


Anyway, I, I'm sure there's a hundred different things on your minds and I'm going to answer any questions you have to the best of my ability, but please just know that my number one priority for all of you moving forward is to make sure you're safe and happy. Believe me, there are huge changes coming to this city and I know that sounds ominous but you and I, us, we are going to make things so much better for so many people, and I just... I'm your friend, okay? More than anybody you'll meet for the rest of your lives, I'm here to help."

"Well spoken" Keynes said quietly by Lily's side, (though privately, he thought the ending might have verged into desperate, but the overall speech was good). "Well spoken indeed."

TIMELINE 1
He thought for a moment, exchanged a series of meaningful glances with the other officers like wolves assessing their packmates. "We're not going to say thank you. But we are going to do the job. And if the stuff you put in us goes bad you're first on the list. Here," he gives you a card with his name and number - Sargent Nathan Tripswitch. "Treat us like a superhero team and not a science experiment and everyone will be happy."

Keynes stays back a little behind Lily. She's the point person, and his stance, position, and neutral expression are all designed to make it clear that nobody should be looking to anyone but Lily for what to do here.


TIMELINE 2

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer,
Swung by spirit-shades whos feet rumpled the tufted floor,
"Wretch," he cried, "thy God stands with me - and by these angels he has sent me -
Respite from thy arrogance upon me on this, the dance floor
Fie, fie and flee, and no more beset me or thy life shall be"
He quaffed the liquor, "Nevermore!"

Though he put on a good front, Keynes was intimidated by this Lucifer. The fat man was enhanced by magic in a place where Keynes dared not use his own, and he clearly cared nothing for life, or well-being of others. He had the measure of the man, and a sense of his magic besides. It was time for a withdrawal of the tactical variety.

And with that, Keynes found it remarkable that neither he nor Lucifer seemed to have at all been thinking about Rebecca or looking at her. And just like that, there he was sitting next to other people looking at Rebecca, as he joined Compass and Lily, conversation already in progress.

[Raz_Fox]

TIMELINE 1

They defer to the largest of them, an extremely tall man with a bald head and short red beard, who speaks to you in a low voice. "This is some mad science bullsh*t," he said, "and I speak for all of us when I say that you should probably be in jail for it. But. If this knowledge you have put in our heads is true then I can see why you did it. Every man in this station has a folder full of weird unsolved cases hanging around their necks like an anchor. Invisible perps, cameras that don't work, exsanguinations, cannibalism - every one of us has seen enough sh*t to question their reality. Now we know."

He thought for a moment, exchanged a series of meaningful glances with the other officers like wolves assessing their packmates. "We're not going to say thank you. But we are going to do the job. And if the stuff you put in us goes bad you're first on the list. Here," he gives you a card with his name and number - Sargent Nathan Tripswitch. "Treat us like a superhero team and not a science experiment and everyone will be happy."

"You are right," Compass says, from behind Lily. Not hiding, mind you. Just observing. But maybe a little more behind Lily than Keynes- at least at first, at least until she starts talking, taking the stage. "This is the stuff of superhero comics: an experiment gone wrong, a virus that changes you, sets you apart from normal people, an accident that no one could have predicted. And when this happens to you, when you are hit with the radioactive leak, what do you do, what's the first thing on your mind? You protect people. Speaking for myself, I'm glad that when real superpowers started showing up in Sydney, you're the people who got them."

Magicians aren't superheroes. Magicians are- complicated.

"Allow me to introduce myself. Gabriella Jalloh. Ms. Mason's associate, and it's my job to know everything that's going on in Sydney. It's a pleasure to meet you all, even though the circumstances are somewhat bittersweet. I don't know whether this can be reversed, but if it can't, I'll make damn sure that your civic representation has got your back. Funding, reparations, and the paperwork to have you assigned your own precinct are available in the budget, as long as we're both working for the health of the city." There's a glow in her voice, a timbre that's hard to hit if you don't believe. "Again, thank you all. You didn't ask for this to happen to you, and you didn't have to take up this vigil, and yet, look at you! Ready to take salt and turn it to sugar."

A business card is offered to Sargent Tripswitch. It's shining-metal-silver on white cardstock, and offers him a phone number.

If God is working through Lily, through this strange phenomenon, it's her job to make sure it's done right. And if this is a huge mistake, well, better to already be on good terms with the werecops before they rampage through the streets.

And Lily drifted off, but caught up in the flow of Rebecca's verge and in a place she wasn't really equipped to understand, she could only really float across the waves of space that formed the party space. And while she drifted, her shadow stayed behind, flirting coyly with the figure with the crown of flaming jewels, enraptured and silent. Across banal conversations and mystifying imagery, Lily slips around the room like a verse trapped inside the meter of a poem, straining to express herself but confined by the form around her on the page. She still has the drugged champagne in her hand, untouched.

And she knows, step one should be to whip up an antidote after all, but because she's Lily and she's lonely and there's so very few footholds for her to step on anywhere, the currents inevitably carry her to Compass, where the words tumble out of her lips about everything she'd seen.

"First priority," Compass says, already starting to go cold and focused, like a scalpel: "First priority is removing the bomb. Maybe relocate it? If she's being influenced by the Supernal, possibly stirring in sleep." A glance to Lily for confirmation. "Casualties unacceptable. Could blunt explosive, if unable to move it. Or just trigger the fire alarm, get everyone outside, even if sedated."

Can Compass discern the potential energy of the explosive, and thus locate it, given her skill in Forces?

[Thanqol]

"You are right," Compass says, from behind Lily. Not hiding, mind you. Just observing. But maybe a little more behind Lily than Keynes- at least at first, at least until she starts talking, taking the stage. "This is the stuff of superhero comics: an experiment gone wrong, a virus that changes you, sets you apart from normal people, an accident that no one could have predicted. And when this happens to you, when you are hit with the radioactive leak, what do you do, what's the first thing on your mind? You protect people. Speaking for myself, I'm glad that when real superpowers started showing up in Sydney, you're the people who got them."

Magicians aren't superheroes. Magicians are- complicated.

"Allow me to introduce myself. Gabriella Jalloh. Ms. Mason's associate, and it's my job to know everything that's going on in Sydney. It's a pleasure to meet you all, even though the circumstances are somewhat bittersweet. I don't know whether this can be reversed, but if it can't, I'll make damn sure that your civic representation has got your back. Funding, reparations, and the paperwork to have you assigned your own precinct are available in the budget, as long as we're both working for the health of the city." There's a glow in her voice, a timbre that's hard to hit if you don't believe. "Again, thank you all. You didn't ask for this to happen to you, and you didn't have to take up this vigil, and yet, look at you! Ready to take salt and turn it to sugar."

A business card is offered to Sargent Tripswitch. It's shining-metal-silver on white cardstock, and offers him a phone number.

If God is working through Lily, through this strange phenomenon, it's her job to make sure it's done right. And if this is a huge mistake, well, better to already be on good terms with the werecops before they rampage through the streets.

Sgt. Tripswitch looks honestly a little bit shocked to see the government involved in this - but he's actually reassured more than anything, especially by your choice of language. Funding, reparations and paperwork are good, familiar things to a career lawman; the implication that he has options, can union up, can even go to the media with hard evidence in extremis. You have created the idea that the system still works, the system still works for him and he doesn't need to become a vigilante relying on force and personal morality alone. That is a huge thing and the entire tone of the scene changes.

"Thank you ma'am," said Tripswitch. "Is there anything we should prioritize, anything that's urgent? Otherwise we were going to start working our way through cold cases."

"First priority," Compass says, already starting to go cold and focused, like a scalpel: "First priority is removing the bomb. Maybe relocate it? If she's being influenced by the Supernal, possibly stirring in sleep." A glance to Lily for confirmation. "Casualties unacceptable. Could blunt explosive, if unable to move it. Or just trigger the fire alarm, get everyone outside, even if sedated."

Can Compass discern the potential energy of the explosive, and thus locate it, given her skill in Forces?

Yes! Lily's Matter would normally be able to do something similar but it's being really thrown off by the Pandemonic verge here. Forces is uninhibited, though, and homing in on the bomb is just a case of filtering for potential energy. It is, naturally, in the basement. A fair amount, too, enough to knock down the entire house. Interesting detail: There's a lot of unnecessary incendiaries there, the bomber wants a fire along with an explosion.

Keynes, you have Time: Do not trigger the fire alarm. That just makes the bomber hit the detonator. Maybe Compass can catch that signal - maybe she can't. That is a throw of the dice, and you don't know the specifics without deeper magic but it's less in your favour than you might initially think. (Also, this is a private residence so it doesn't have a fire alarm to yank, you'd either have to hold a match up to a smoke detector or have Compass trigger it with Forces).

Now, here's the catch: you're in a Pandemonic verge and 'the basement' doesn't actually exist as a place.

Keynes could maybe manoeuvre there with some quick thinking and spatial awareness but it's a really fragile thing to bring others along, especially when any three of you losing your trains of thoughts for a second could teleport you right back up here - exactly the sort of pressure you'd want when trying to defuse high explosives, right? The cleanest approach would be to drag Rebecca down there somehow, or convince her to create a new 'space' in this Pandemonic vortex. There may be other options if you're feeling particularly inspired.

[Raz_Fox]

Sgt. Tripswitch looks honestly a little bit shocked to see the government involved in this - but he's actually reassured more than anything, especially by your choice of language. Funding, reparations and paperwork are good, familiar things to a career lawman; the implication that he has options, can union up, can even go to the media with hard evidence in extremis. You have created the idea that the system still works, the system still works for him and he doesn't need to become a vigilante relying on force and personal morality alone. That is a huge thing and the entire tone of the scene changes.

"Thank you ma'am," said Tripswitch. "Is there anything we should prioritize, anything that's urgent? Otherwise we were going to start working our way through cold cases."

TIMELINE I

"Well, the city always has interesting problems- case in point, werewolf techno-virus spreading among the police- but I wouldn't feel comfortable using you as a hammer to expedite resolution of any of the current problems on our radar. We're public servants, after all. Accountable." The system works. We work. Motion, synchronicity: eucatastrophe. "That said, I would love to assist you as a case consultant: I can flag certain cases, help you ascertain what's going on behind the scenes."

A selfish request, if we are to be honest: Compass burns to know whether there is evidence of scelesti activity in her city, similar to how the architect of a cathedral might want evidence of structural instabilities. She must be honest with herself in this, but she is honest enough to know that she can also do good in helping these people adjust to what has happened to them.

After all, they never asked for this.

Now, here's the catch: you're in a Pandemonic verge and 'the basement' doesn't actually exist as a place.

Keynes could maybe manoeuvre there with some quick thinking and spatial awareness but it's a really fragile thing to bring others along, especially when any three of you losing your trains of thoughts for a second could teleport you right back up here - exactly the sort of pressure you'd want when trying to defuse high explosives, right? The cleanest approach would be to drag Rebecca down there somehow, or convince her to create a new 'space' in this Pandemonic vortex. There may be other options if you're feeling particularly inspired.

Compass sears her way from "thinking about Rebecca" to "in conversation with Rebecca" like a comet once the conviction comes into her mind. One moment, she is not in that place, the next, she is there and she has a hand on Rebecca's shoulder, maternal, in command of this situation. The card: Strength, one hand in the lion's jaw, her feet braced against the floor. The planet: Jupiter, the monarch fruitful crowned. She is fire and white lightning falling from heaven.

"Beasley," she says, "I need you to come with me. We're going downstairs." She holds up one finger, forestalling the question: forceful, trying her best to bowl Rebecca over socially, put her on the off foot, put her in a place where she twists the Verge through instinct and reaction. And as even Compass knows, the Warlock must always Descend.

[Thanqol]

TIMELINE 1

"Well, the city always has interesting problems- case in point, werewolf techno-virus spreading among the police- but I wouldn't feel comfortable using you as a hammer to expedite resolution of any of the current problems on our radar. We're public servants, after all. Accountable." The system works. We work. Motion, synchronicity: eucatastrophe. "That said, I would love to assist you as a case consultant: I can flag certain cases, help you ascertain what's going on behind the scenes."

A selfish request, if we are to be honest: Compass burns to know whether there is evidence of scelesti activity in her city, similar to how the architect of a cathedral might want evidence of structural instabilities. She must be honest with herself in this, but she is honest enough to know that she can also do good in helping these people adjust to what has happened to them.

After all, they never asked for this.

"Of course, channels and all that," said Tripswitch. "We have a hundred years of case files to go through, so how do you want this to work?"



TIMELINE 2

Compass sears her way from "thinking about Rebecca" to "in conversation with Rebecca" like a comet once the conviction comes into her mind. One moment, she is not in that place, the next, she is there and she has a hand on Rebecca's shoulder, maternal, in command of this situation. The card: Strength, one hand in the lion's jaw, her feet braced against the floor. The planet: Jupiter, the monarch fruitful crowned. She is fire and white lightning falling from heaven.

"Beasley," she says, "I need you to come with me. We're going downstairs." She holds up one finger, forestalling the question: forceful, trying her best to bowl Rebecca over socially, put her on the off foot, put her in a place where she twists the Verge through instinct and reaction. And as even Compass knows, the Warlock must always Descend.

Through eyes of Prime you can see harmonic convergence in this moment and this action - an opportunity, if you care to take it. She'll acquiesce to your request inevitably, maybe with a little hemming and hawing, but her curiosity will win out - and that will lose the potential of the moment. The power is condensed around your hand, your grip, the chains it implies. If you, instead of waiting for her agreement, force her to where she needs to go, cast yourself as jailer, kidnapper, police officer, tormenter, demon - then you will be aligned with the mystery play on a deeper level. Prisons and prisoners are deeply evocative concepts in this space and there is immense power in them.

Be cautioned, however, that once that role is accepted it may be hard to put down, the roles of jailor and prisoner are reversible, and the logic of it may lead you to places you do not wish to go.

[Anarion]

TIMELINE 1



"Of course, channels and all that," said Tripswitch. "We have a hundred years of case files to go through, so how do you want this to work?"

"If I may be so bold" Keynes begins. He's speaking to Lily more than to Tripswitch here, though he's talking a way that can be heard. "One might imagine a classic sort of prioritization would be applicable. A product of greatest threat, highest likelihood of occurrence, and highest likelihood of success relative to required resources. If the, shall we say, modifications present allow for improved calculations about the information you have, I imagine it should be possible to make such a determination and then work from greatest threat down to least. Forgive me if I have misunderstood, of course."

Again, Keynes is not Compass or Lily here. He's a friend, a helper, but no official role, no particular authority in his statements. At least not at the moment.

[Raz_Fox]

TIMELINE 1

"Of course, channels and all that," said Tripswitch. "We have a hundred years of case files to go through, so how do you want this to work?"

TIMELINE I

Given that Compass is a professional in bureaucratic fields, one assumes that she would know at least something of the protocol here. She's likely to yield to someone in the field- i.e. allow the police to follow their own protocols of prioritization, and provide her with information on the cases that they have highlighted themselves.

TIMELINE 2

Through eyes of Prime you can see harmonic convergence in this moment and this action - an opportunity, if you care to take it. She'll acquiesce to your request inevitably, maybe with a little hemming and hawing, but her curiosity will win out - and that will lose the potential of the moment. The power is condensed around your hand, your grip, the chains it implies. If you, instead of waiting for her agreement, force her to where she needs to go, cast yourself as jailer, kidnapper, police officer, tormenter, demon - then you will be aligned with the mystery play on a deeper level. Prisons and prisoners are deeply evocative concepts in this space and there is immense power in them.

Be cautioned, however, that once that role is accepted it may be hard to put down, the roles of jailor and prisoner are reversible, and the logic of it may lead you to places you do not wish to go.

TIMELINE II

Meddling in her mystery play without proper study first sounds like the most Hubristic action possible right now, short of seizing her forehead and opening up her head to the truth by peeling away the scales of the Lie from her eyes with brute force. There will be other opportunities to meddle in the instruction of Rebecca Beasley, Trashy Heiress, and help her grope towards proper understanding of the universe.

[PhoeKun]

TIMELINE 1

Lily's face is still a smiling mask, but behind it her mind is spinning. So many turns, so much change, response to stimuli, still so important. So unstable and suggestible, this magic... it's incredible. Like nothing she's ever seen before. And just when she thinks she's got it on lock, there's another tiny nudge to push the boundaries of the relationships she's forging in this brilliant, golden moment. She calls herself Compass... you're darn right.

"It's like I said, I'm here to help. If you feel hard done by, please know you can always talk to me. I'll listen. I'm good at listening, even if I seem better at talking. None of you guys are just some science project to me. Which, actually, while we're on the subject, as part of your work getting settled in you should think about what your department wants in terms of a new uniform. I dunno how serious you were about being treated like superheroes, but legit I also do costume design in my handfuls of spare time, so if you guys wanted something I could whip it up for you no problem. Functional armor and everything."

She grins, but it falters just a tiny bit when talk of logistics crops up.

"They're cold cases, right? A century's worth? If you want my advice, follow up on the warmest trails first. Focus on solvability and keep an eye out for patterns, because, well, think of the sorts of things you're about to be investigating. Frankly, some of the newer stuff might involve the same perps as the OG files. Not everything's going to line up according to traditional human timelines anymore, be prepared for that. And... y'know, be careful. You're not experiments, but you are Gen 1. For obvious reasons, the modifications caused by the, um, The Hounds have never been field tested."



TIMELINE 2

In a snap or maybe a flash, Lily has moved to With Rebecca, not really able to stop herself from trying to be conversation-adjacent. God, what a headache this is. Like being an atom observed for velocity and position in rapid alternation, except also you're self aware of the shifts. Or is it like being an ant on a 4-dimensional plane? Whatever, it sucks. Her lips press together, tight and thin, and she self consciously grabs one of her elbows and draws her shoulders inward, watching and waiting and trying not to destroy the potential of the moment.

Had Becca been drinking? She hoped not.

[Thanqol]

TIMELINE 1

"Which, actually, while we're on the subject, as part of your work getting settled in you should think about what your department wants in terms of a new uniform. I dunno how serious you were about being treated like superheroes, but legit I also do costume design in my handfuls of spare time, so if you guys wanted something I could whip it up for you no problem. Functional armor and everything."

Tripswitch straightens up, puts his hands on his hit, lifts his jaw a little and strikes a pose. "This uniform already represents everything I want to stand for," he says, totally straight faced while both his friends cack themselves laughing - this is some joke you're not in on. "It stands for community service," Tripswitch went on. "It stands for civic engagement. It stands for the trust a citizenry can put in their government. No soldier in history could have half the pride in their uniform that I feel for mine."

He paused as though for applause, and then smirked and said. "We'll call if we need anything,"


TIMELINE 2

In a snap or maybe a flash, Lily has moved to With Rebecca, not really able to stop herself from trying to be conversation-adjacent. God, what a headache this is. Like being an atom observed for velocity and position in rapid alternation, except also you're self aware of the shifts. Or is it like being an ant on a 4-dimensional plane? Whatever, it sucks. Her lips press together, tight and thin, and she self consciously grabs one of her elbows and draws her shoulders inward, watching and waiting and trying not to destroy the potential of the moment.

Had Becca been drinking? She hoped not.

"Baby doll!" said Rebecca upon seeing Lily. She doesn't smell of alcohol - she had a period when she went through every drug she could think of in an attempt to find enlightenment at the bottom of one of them, but that time seems to have passed. "Come on! Your friend is propositioning me and we may as well make an afternoon of it -"

Space warps in an extremely haphazard way. Rebecca is collapsing the world into two places: In the basement or anywhere else. It's a slightly nauseating and janky teleport, like a drunk driver 'tactile navigating' her way out of a driveway. And you're all dragged down into a room...

... covered in Atlantean runes. Elaborately traced characters in High Speech, painted in regal ultramarine - old fashioned, hand mixed, made with ground lapis lazuli. Deeply resonant with the Death Arcana, a great Weaving pattern. Around the symbols, barrels of petrol, sinks full of chemicals, handmade explosives piled around support beams, canisters of napalm. This is the sanctum of one of the Wise. The horseman with the flaming crown is here too, though of course, only Lily can see him. The magic here is alive, deep and crackling, a ritual that has been worked on for weeks.

And as you take it in you feel a cold and playful wind brush your shoulders and hear distant carnival music, and you know that the Abyss is here too.

"What -" says Rebecca, trying to take all this in. She can't. The Sleeping Curse still weighs upon her. Everyone knows that you shouldn't cast magic around Sleepers, everyone's had a brush or two with the Abyss, but not everyone has brought a Sleeper into a ritual chamber this charged. Under the Sleeping Curse symbols of true, Awakened magic cause physical suffering to the Sleeper and they can't accept their reality - and so the Abyss offers its corrupt anti-symbols in its place and the Sleeper can't tell which is the worse. Her bravado is already slipping away and a deep, primordial fear is working its way into her heart. "I shouldn't be here," she says. Everywhere the ritual symbols are being overlaid with Abyssal ones. "This isn't right," she says in the dry, hollow voice of someone about to break.

But she can't help but look. And the Abyss comes through her.

She looks at the horseman with the flaming crown and it flinches and recoils, physically injured. She can see it - whatever that means.

The door is locked.

[Paradox: Every round Rebecca is exposed to the Supernal she's going to build up Paradox. Paradox ticker 1]

[Anarion]

TIMELINE 2


And as you take it in you feel a cold and playful wind brush your shoulders and hear distant carnival music, and you know that the Abyss is here too.

"What -" says Rebecca, trying to take all this in.

Keynes glances at his watch, and briefly, for just a few seconds, there is a warp, a ripple in reality. This is a different sort of distortion than the space teleportation that Rebecca just did. Keynes steps back a handful of seconds, stands in the room with the Atlantean runes, alone. Takes one step so that he's standing right next to where Rebecca materializes, and watches as the group of 4 appears in the room just like they have already done. Only this time, his hand is over Rebecca's eyes before she can look, his grip is firm, and he looks to Lily and to Compass and to himself for assistance. The abyss must not be allowed to spread here.

[Shifting Sands Praxis cast, one yantra: 5, 9, 3, 3, 7.]

[Raz_Fox]

TIMELINE II

Compass takes in the situation at a glance. Runes, a great ritual working associated with death, the practice of Weaving: to change, to make malleable, to make manifest. Things begin to arrange themselves as being understandable. The question remains as to whether the hostess is the magician who has done this, or is simply a weapon wielded by someone else's hand - but that mystery can wait a moment.

Her laser pointer is smooth and cold under her gloved fingers, and she turns, presses the button firmly with her thumb, traces the symbol for the Sun on Rebecca's forehead. Not what she'd intended to have happen tonight, but when the devil drives, what can be done but to run alongside? There is resonance in the symbol, in the idea of the glorious all-revealing Sun, that which reveals when you have exited the cave. If she were not using her tool of command, the tool that decrees what shall happen in the world, it is possible that the strain of forcing a conduit of Solar symbolism with the wild mind of Rebecca Beasley would crack the world open even further - but this tool was a gift, and it is hers.

Behold.

[Casting Stolen Fire, turning Rebecca into a Sleepwalker for a scene; spending a reach to make it instant and reaching to toggle Advanced Duration; as the laser pointer is her Dedicated tool, -2 to Paradox dice pools. 4, 4, 9, 3 - 1 Success.]

This done, she clicks off the laser pointer and nods for Keynes to let Rebecca see what is going on.

Herself, she turns to the ritual and looks at it with the eyes of Jupiter's magician. The monarch, crowned with authority over all things. She seeks to understand more fully this willworking, and any way it might be undone. Wizard ethics generally take a dim view of killing dozens of people in a vast explosion, after all.

[Thanqol]

TIMELINE 2

One - two. The carnival passes in the distance, heading for a different town. Your victory here is complete, and in more ways than just stopping the Abyss. See, the mage responsible for this would have been able to sense a Sleeper's presence in their sanctum and the resulting buildup of Abyssal energies, and they would have come running. That response got over-written with time travel and while the Abyss might remember the opposing mage does not. No one knows you're here, there's no countdown, you have a totally free hand.

Compass, as soon as you begin expanding your mystical senses you're immediately accosted by a spirit - a disgustingly handsome young man wearing a suit of mirrored black glass and a smile like diamonds even though he's obviously distraught. "Oh! A shaman! Please, I need your help!" he says. "I am 44 Seabreeze and my owner's spouse is attempting to murder me! I have no idea why! Is it the insurance? Oh! It must be the insurance!" he brushes tears from his eyes and stomps on the ground. "Damn her! Over money! No wonder she hasn't talked about anything else! Look, please, now that you're here everything will be fine. I have a plan. Step one is to clean all this horrible graffiti off the walls - oh my god, do you see it? Do you see the consequences this is having on my property value? What would the neighbours say if they found out there was a bomb workshop in my basement!? I'd be ruined!"


Lily and Compass both get this: There are two big components to this spell. The first and most potent is a large scale Soul Jar - everyone who dies in this place is going to have their souls collected and stored in a comprehensive and expensive set of machining tools, on soul per tool[1].

The other big component is a combination Death Weaving/Veiling spell. It's going to find about five specific corpses, animate them as zombies, and conceal the fact that they are dead at all. You can presume that if this is linked with an enormous explosion these people will 'miraculously survive'. Zombies created with the Death Arcana are surprisingly adept, with attention from the caster (and maybe the Mind arcana) they can easily perform all the ordinary functions of a human.


For her part, Rebecca starts when Keynes grabs her, starts to struggle and fight and stops when he releases her. She opens her mouth to give what's sure to be an acidic rant - then she sees the walls. She gasps in awe and pushes past you to start going over every inch of the room, staring and analysing and murmuring under her breath. A great symbol of advanced intelligence is forming around her head as she wills herself to become smart enough to understand what she's seeing - if you talk to her now you're going to be conversing with a legitimate occult genius, not an arrogant dilettante.


[1]: The Pentacle's position on magic involving souls is 'it's not inherently evil, but it's super easy to become evil'. See, the most common (unconfirmed) theory is that after you die then the Exarch of Death brutalizes your soul, rips out your enlightenment, and tosses you back to earth - she stands at the gates to with a flaming sword and cuts down all who approach. Therefore there's not really any harm in keeping a soul around with magic and research into souls is an important area of study.

The problem is that having a bunch of souls on hand is an enormous temptation to start Reaping. Reaping is well and truly into Left Handed territory. As a result, mages engaged in soul research tend to get sh*tloads of scrutiny and a mage doing secret soul research is regarded about as well as a nuclear physicist messing around with uranium and improvised explosives in his creepy shed.

[Raz_Fox]

TIMELINE 2

Compass, as soon as you begin expanding your mystical senses you're immediately accosted by a spirit - a disgustingly handsome young man wearing a suit of mirrored black glass and a smile like diamonds even though he's obviously distraught. "Oh! A shaman! Please, I need your help!" he says. "I am 44 Seabreeze and my owner's spouse is attempting to murder me! I have no idea why! Is it the insurance? Oh! It must be the insurance!" he brushes tears from his eyes and stomps on the ground. "Damn her! Over money! No wonder she hasn't talked about anything else! Look, please, now that you're here everything will be fine. I have a plan. Step one is to clean all this horrible graffiti off the walls - oh my god, do you see it? Do you see the consequences this is having on my property value? What would the neighbours say if they found out there was a bomb workshop in my basement!? I'd be ruined!"

"Really? She's been talking about the money lately?" Compass asks the spirit, in her best "please, tell me more of this gossip" voice. It's not the most sophisticated, but hopefully it'll do well enough to convince a rather flighty house-spirit to talk. "What with owning such a handsome and expensive house, I'm surprised she'd be concerned about that. Has she been meeting with anyone- you know- odd lately?"

[Thanqol]

TIMELINE 2

"Really? She's been talking about the money lately?" Compass asks the spirit, in her best "please, tell me more of this gossip" voice. It's not the most sophisticated, but hopefully it'll do well enough to convince a rather flighty house-spirit to talk. "What with owning such a handsome and expensive house, I'm surprised she'd be concerned about that. Has she been meeting with anyone- you know- odd lately?"

"Oh, well," said Seabreeze, putting his arm around your shoulder conspiratorially and lowering his voice to a stage whisper. For this guy good gossip takes precedence over explosives strapped to his support pillars. "Between you and me, I've always thought Mrs. Ainsworth was a bit of a, well, a gold digger - but it seems she's actually a black widow instead! She was one of Mr. Ainsworth's nurses, don't you know, and the whole thing is a bit of a scandal but old age does silly things to a man's brain. But if she wanted to kill Mr. Ainsworth for his money then surely she's had opportunity to do it quietly by now!"

Seabreeze tries to think about that a little further but, really, he's not very clever and can't really infer anything deeper than salacious implication.

"There aren't any weird visitors," he went on, and he sounds quite put out by that. "She's been talking about money a lot, but other people's money mostly," he muses. "I assumed this was some sort of 'keeping up with the Johnsons' thing. She wasn't talking to her own accountant, she's been working out who the most valuable and powerful people in Sydney are. Most of them are here actually -" Seabreeze gasps. "Do you think that's what it's about? She wants to kill everybody richer than her so she'll finally be the wealthiest person in town! By my solar powered lamplights, I think I've cracked the case!"

[Anarion]

Since Compass appears otherwise engaged with an otherworldly entity, and they have what appears to be two occult experts in the room, Keynes takes the next step of comparing notes. "So, Rebecca, what do you make of all this?" He asks, hoping to simply prompt her to start talking as she works through it. For that matter, what does he make of it with his occult skills? Is there some broad sleeper tradition or symbolism that this seems to fit into and might give insight into the caster's plans?

[PhoeKun]

TIMELINE 1

Lily blinks as if exposed to harsh light, quite sure she's just been hecka burned but not at all knowing why or even how. She half-giggles awkwardly and tries not to look as put out as she feels.

"Right, well. If you guys don't have any other questions or immediate concerns, I'll just get out of your hair. I do want to meet the lot of you in no more than a week from now to check up on you and make sure everything's still, y'know, working the way it's supposed to. Thanks again for not beating me to death. I wouldn't have blamed you for trying."

Her lips curl upward despite the weight of her words hanging in the air. She offers a goofy, two-fingered salute. "Right, you've got my number, keep in touch!" And she turns and skips outside.

She's exuding confidence by the time she returns to Western, stopping dramatically and even puffing out her chest ever so slightly.

"See?" she chirps, "I told you this would work out. The really important thing right now is that we've got a pretty good grasp on the likely trajectory of this thing for the time being. There's a lot of latent potential in the magic still that's going to take time to tease out, but that's a matter of stepping into the role of the super scientist. For now it's stable, and, dude. We are going to change the world."

The light around Lily surges, and her shadow briefly stretches out across the pavement, its 'mouth' split open in an impossible smile.


TIMELINE 2

"Wow, you really have to admire the dedication to theatrics here. Technically, there's not much a reason why you'd have to use actual explosives here if you goal is," Lily gestures around at the room, "all this, but they went and put a heck of a bomb in the center of it anyway. It's not even like it could mask the ritual, because something like this'd light up like a hecking beacon in the rubble if it triggered. Wonder if they're creating a storyline? And how much Mrs. Suicide Pact is in on it..."

Idly, Lily can't help but wonder why the caster chose machining tools as their vessel for the Soul Jar. It's not an idea she'd considered before and she can't help but try to puzzle out what the benefits of Soul Tools could be. Would they acclimate? Reach a higher plane of functionality? Reveal something new about the nature of souls? Or were they just innocuous enough to be able to leave around to do... something? There's nothing more frustrating than running up against the limits of your imagination, of realizing the difference between Enlightenment and Omniscience.

With a shrug and a sigh, she opens up her Death Sight on the ritual, looking for the inevitable frays where it could be pulled apart, and how it might be undone. Without even thinking about it this seems like the sort of experiment Key and Compy are pretty explicitly against, at any rate. But also, she looks around for a signature, because it seems stupid to think that somebody would set up an undertaking on this level and not mark it. 'Cause if not, doesn't that imply some pretty creepy intentions if they're cool with a free-for-all?

"And what's your interest in all this, I wonder? You just here to see the fireworks, or are you after something more?" She mutters quietly, watching the Horseman. So far as she can puzzle out, both the Father of Death and this other entity's real interest was in the hostess who made this extremely excellent DIY bomb. But one was haltingly unsure, and the other pretty gosh darned enigmatic. She watches and she tilts her head, inviting it to offer some sort of clue into its designs.

[Thanqol]

TIMELINE 1

"See?" she chirps, "I told you this would work out. The really important thing right now is that we've got a pretty good grasp on the likely trajectory of this thing for the time being. There's a lot of latent potential in the magic still that's going to take time to tease out, but that's a matter of stepping into the role of the super scientist. For now it's stable, and, dude. We are going to change the world."

The light around Lily surges, and her shadow briefly stretches out across the pavement, its 'mouth' split open in an impossible smile.

Professor Western looks... daunted. Impressed. His goons are already packing up and getting ready to leave. "Forgive me, I am not used to seeing... decisiveness like that," he said. "I couldn't have... are you really ready for a war? Our hunters are going to begin a campaign of extermination against every monster in the city and there will be blowback on us. Please, let me assign you some security."


TIMELINE 2

Idly, Lily can't help but wonder why the caster chose machining tools as their vessel for the Soul Jar. It's not an idea she'd considered before and she can't help but try to puzzle out what the benefits of Soul Tools could be. Would they acclimate? Reach a higher plane of functionality? Reveal something new about the nature of souls? Or were they just innocuous enough to be able to leave around to do... something? There's nothing more frustrating than running up against the limits of your imagination, of realizing the difference between Enlightenment and Omniscience.

It's an interesting topic. You naturally understand how Souls move and flow - it's an intrinsic part of the Death arcana - but the logic of this isn't immediately obvious to you. If Stygia's arcana are Death and Matter, both of those forces are at opposite ends of the spectrum. Death is subtlety, memory, the shape that things hold when there is no matter left to comprise them - Matter is raw, inert, brutal, crude, the building blocks that are subject to entropy. If you grab a bunch of death-stuff and force it into a bunch of matter-stuff that isn't going to make the matter stuff better. It hardly makes sense. For a Mastigos, a Mind can have a relationship which is governed by Space, but giving a relationship a Mind of its own is hardly a coherent sentence.

So you don't get the feeling that this is a process designed to "empower" the tools. Whoever did this is clearly a Moros, they should understand this as well as you. But thinking instead as a scientist, the way that this is set up has all the markings of an experiment. There aren't a bunch of materials standing by ready to build something specific. There isn't an immediate follow through or sense of purpose to this design like there might be if Step One is build soul tools Step Two is build giant laser with those soul tools Step Three is take over the world.

You think there's as much a question in this as you yourself are asking. And it's a really weird and specific question to ask. Obviously Mages get obsessed over things, that's the whole nature of being a Mage, but this thought in particular is so out there and the execution is so specific that you think that this isn't someone's crazy idea, this is a hard-headed attempt to comprehend something they've experienced elsewhere.

[Obviously there's a point of Arcane XP if you can get to the bottom of this, amongst other benefits.]

With a shrug and a sigh, she opens up her Death Sight on the ritual, looking for the inevitable frays where it could be pulled apart, and how it might be undone. Without even thinking about it this seems like the sort of experiment Key and Compy are pretty explicitly against, at any rate. But also, she looks around for a signature, because it seems stupid to think that somebody would set up an undertaking on this level and not mark it. 'Cause if not, doesn't that imply some pretty creepy intentions if they're cool with a free-for-all?

So, High Speech is great. It's a fantastic Yantra with powerful magical associations, uniquely capable of holding the energies of the Supernal. But the catch is if you break the words then the entire ritual falls apart like a house of cards. All you've got to do to terminate this thing is splash some paint around on those painstakingly prepared ritual symbols. That will instantly inform whoever's ritual this is, though, so you might want to disarm those bombs first. [Disarming the explosives is a simple intelligence+science roll. There's no penalties - the person who set this up didn't bother making the bomb mechanisms complex, probably because no one was meant to find the room in the first place]

There absolutely is an arcane signature here. High and fiery, like a staircase through a burning building. No one you know but you'd easily recognize them if you saw anything else they cast after this.

"And what's your interest in all this, I wonder? You just here to see the fireworks, or are you after something more?" She mutters quietly, watching the Horseman. So far as she can puzzle out, both the Father of Death and this other entity's real interest was in the hostess who made this extremely excellent DIY bomb. But one was haltingly unsure, and the other pretty gosh darned enigmatic. She watches and she tilts her head, inviting it to offer some sort of clue into its designs.

The Horseman considers, considers, considers. It offers a symbol - incomprehensible - and another that could mean any one of a dozen things. It considers again, frustrated, like a man trying random languages to try and find one you'd comprehend.

Then it snaps its fingers in a shockingly human gesture of understanding and it puts on a Guy Fawkes mask. Crowned by fire - electric fire, fire through glass - it spreads its hands confidently around the explosives and then gives a large double thumbs up. There's music there, too, muffled as though from a distance.

Since Compass appears otherwise engaged with an otherworldly entity, and they have what appears to be two occult experts in the room, Keynes takes the next step of comparing notes. "So, Rebecca, what do you make of all this?" He asks, hoping to simply prompt her to start talking as she works through it. For that matter, what does he make of it with his occult skills? Is there some broad sleeper tradition or symbolism that this seems to fit into and might give insight into the caster's plans?

"You did this?" she asks, suddenly turning her attention on you. Your mind goes white, transparent, her gaze holds the intensity of an MRI - and then she glances away when she realizes you don't know sh*t.

"Some of this stuff is incomprehensible, but some of it is French or French-inspired," said Rebecca. "Check it out. This timer on the bombs? Decimal time - that's from the French Revolutionary Calendar. And see here - the pattern of the explosives? Some of them are support beams but some of them look like they're spaced randomly, but that's actually the pattern Guy Fawkes was trying to lay the bombs to blow up Parliament."

She's right. It's crazy. You might have figured some of that stuff out if you were really lucky or spent a week in a library.

"The theme is bringing the high low. Freedom, violent revolution. But more than that. They want to make something of the rich. They don't just want to kill them, they want to take their stuff."

With that thought in your mind, Keynes, you can see the Free Council influence here. But it's influence. This doesn't look like the Libertine stuff you're trained to recognize and, importantly, this is all the work of one person. A real Libertine wouldn't do anything like this without a vote and teamwork. Maybe a former Libertine, or someone trained by one, or who moves in Libertine circles without buying the ideology completely. A member of that Nameless Assembly that doesn't recognize the Consilium, probably.

[Anarion]

"An excellent read. This is clearly influenced by a belief in equality. Really, quite the jolly irony that this appears to be a single independent actor who has taken it upon themselves to determine who should be brought low and how." Keynes chuckles to himself and walks over to Compass and Lily. "My recommendation is that when we are prepared to do so, we undo the working here, it is obviously quite harmful. I don't mean to rush you in dealing with the equipment though, or investigating the working as needed first. I'm going to chat with the hostess upstairs and see if I can discern any of her involvement in the matter. Circumspectly, of course. If you could be so kind as to not blow us all up while I'm gone, that would be smashing."

Then Keynes takes a few steps and pulls himself back to the "upstairs" section of this verge, where he looks for the hostess mixing her drinks and places himself next to her. "Madame, a most excellent party. Do I have you to thank for the arrangements this evening?"

[Raz_Fox]

TIMELINE 2

"There aren't any weird visitors," he went on, and he sounds quite put out by that. "She's been talking about money a lot, but other people's money mostly," he muses. "I assumed this was some sort of 'keeping up with the Johnsons' thing. She wasn't talking to her own accountant, she's been working out who the most valuable and powerful people in Sydney are. Most of them are here actually -" Seabreeze gasps. "Do you think that's what it's about? She wants to kill everybody richer than her so she'll finally be the wealthiest person in town! By my solar powered lamplights, I think I've cracked the case!"

TIMELINE II

Compass nods, looking carefully at the spirit. It really isn't funny, as much as its patter seems taken straight out of a good satire. Rather, it is- well, an impression. The weight that human interaction and expectation presses down upon the world, the imprint made within the Shadow. Just human enough to emphasize with, and just alien enough that she must not forget to not treat it too much like one. It is not her friend, it is not a being with a soul, it just is, and while she will treat it with respect enough not to laugh at it, she will not adopt it and scratch it behind the ears.

"That's a good theory, Seabreeze. Thank you for your help. You are a beautiful house and I will make sure that you are not a smouldering wreck in the headlines tomorrow." She offers a slight bow, and then turns her attention to Lily, who is also speaking to thin air. An eyebrow is raised. A ghost? Possibly.

She waits until Lily seems at a lull, seems not to be listening intently or studying whatever is going on in front of her, and then points out: "We should probably disable the bomb. This seems more your territory than mine." It would be so easy to spark the explosives- to change potential energy, all bound up tight inside the explosives, into kinetic, pushing everything outwards violently, changing everything around it with a terrible and unshaped strength, and all it would take would be a thought and a push- but disabling them would be something else entirely.

Saturn, master of the philosophers, would be much more suited to dealing with breaking something down, making it not possible, castrating the potentiality and closing the lid on the terrible tale of The Bomb Which Destroyed The Entire Party.

[Thanqol]

Then Keynes takes a few steps and pulls himself back to the "upstairs" section of this verge, where he looks for the hostess mixing her drinks and places himself next to her. "Madame, a most excellent party. Do I have you to thank for the arrangements this evening?"

"You do indeed, you well dressed stranger," Mrs. Ainsworth says with an expensive smile. "I saw you talking to Mr. Yates over there before, I hope he wasn't too much of a boor." She's referring to the Seer, who looks like he has descended deeply into his drug-haze.

Mrs. Ainsworth is shockingly cool. You've seen trained spies less twitchy than her. It takes a unique kind of woman to walk around making elaborate small talk while standing on top of several kilograms of high explosives hooked up to barrels of oil. It's human nature to show stress but she has that perfectly under control. You live in a world of spies and assassins and you could list on one hand the people who might be this cool in a scene like this without extensive use of magic. [If you want to read her, wits+empathy at -8]

Time, Fate and Space at a passive scan don't really get you anything you don't already know. If you want to know something specific ask directly.

TIMELINE II

Compass nods, looking carefully at the spirit. It really isn't funny, as much as its patter seems taken straight out of a good satire. Rather, it is- well, an impression. The weight that human interaction and expectation presses down upon the world, the imprint made within the Shadow. Just human enough to emphasize with, and just alien enough that she must not forget to not treat it too much like one. It is not her friend, it is not a being with a soul, it just is, and while she will treat it with respect enough not to laugh at it, she will not adopt it and scratch it behind the ears.

This is a worthy and wise thought. It demonstrates true understanding of the Shadow, and somewhere your mentor is proud.

She waits until Lily seems at a lull, seems not to be listening intently or studying whatever is going on in front of her, and then points out: "We should probably disable the bomb. This seems more your territory than mine." It would be so easy to spark the explosives- to change potential energy, all bound up tight inside the explosives, into kinetic, pushing everything outwards violently, changing everything around it with a terrible and unshaped strength, and all it would take would be a thought and a push- but disabling them would be something else entirely.

Saturn, master of the philosophers, would be much more suited to dealing with breaking something down, making it not possible, castrating the potentiality and closing the lid on the terrible tale of The Bomb Which Destroyed The Entire Party.

Perhaps a less worthy thought: If you were to witness this explosion, either through evacuating the house and then pulling the trigger, or recovering the explosives and painstakingly recreating the occult setup elsewhere, the resulting insight would be worth a point of Arcane XP.

[Anarion]

"You do indeed, you well dressed stranger," Mrs. Ainsworth says with an expensive smile. "I saw you talking to Mr. Yates over there before, I hope he wasn't too much of a boor." She's referring to the Seer, who looks like he has descended deeply into his drug-haze.

Mrs. Ainsworth is shockingly cool. You've seen trained spies less twitchy than her. It takes a unique kind of woman to walk around making elaborate small talk while standing on top of several kilograms of high explosives hooked up to barrels of oil. It's human nature to show stress but she has that perfectly under control. You live in a world of spies and assassins and you could list on one hand the people who might be this cool in a scene like this without extensive use of magic. [If you want to read her, wits+empathy at -8]

Time, Fate and Space at a passive scan don't really get you anything you don't already know. If you want to know something specific ask directly.

Keynes looks suitably pained at the reference to Mr. Yates, his lips turning ever so slightly downward and his hand pulling to adjust his sparkling vest to use up a bit of nervous tension. "To be quite honest, madame, he was entirely a boor. Where on earth did you find him?" Keynes asks, both to continue the conversation and out of a fair bit of actual curiosity.

Keynes is thinking now about what he can do to rattle this woman. There's almost no hope of getting a good read on her as things are, the difficulty is practically insurmountable without magic he's not willing to touch within sight of Lucifer/Yates over there. Remind me, is there any concern with using Space here, or is it only Fate that's likely to be a problem? If Space is usable, Keynes is going to look for what sorts of sympathy lie on Mrs. Ainsworth. If not, well, he'll try the more old-fashioned method of asking.