Houston Strong IC

[Celticbear]

The trip to Dallas, no matter what direction you take, is always a long one if you aren't coming from Fort Worth. For hundreds of miles, the great plains of Texas spread as a seemingly endless abyss. Dallas itself is quite lively to make up for its barren absence of neighbors, the streets are alive and teeming with energy. It seems to be brimming with all different cultures all in one, but they are not part of your story. Houston, and the malevolence surrounding it, is.

You arrive at an unmarked warehouse, a quite common meeting place for those dealing with the white council. It's been cleared for your meeting, with no places to hide behind or gather your intentions. Runes cover the exterior of the place, protecting it from outside view and acting as a deterrent for unwelcome guests. Under the newly risen moon, and standing near the door is Bill, the regional commander for the southern united states.

Howdy. Didn't find the journey too bad, did ya?

[DoctorFaust]

A vaguely European looking man gets out of the car the group drove in and takes a moment to straighten his suit before replying. "It was the same as it has been every other time," Patrick says. "What did you call us out here to talk about?"

The Sidhe looks as put together as ever thanks to a Glamour, but his stare at Bill betrays his annoyance at being pulled away from Houston and his job.

[Starbin]

Grim approached the meeting sight late as usual, slowly approaching it as he checked the place out. He looked for potential ambush points and sniper roosts, as well as exits and escape paths. Once he was satisfied no one was lurking, and more importantly he had a bug out path, he moved slowly to the entrance to join whoever was already there. It wasn’t that he prowled or snuck forward; Grim was normally languid and deliberate ... except when he wasn’t.

He sniffed the air and cussed under his breath. He recognized two of the scenes. The firs wasn’t an issue - it was that Summer outcast, Patrick. Grim had worked with him before and the fey was okay for a Summer poser, but they didn’t exactly run in the same circles. Still, better to know at least one person in a new town than none.

The other scent smelled of power - White Council at least. After a moment, he realized it was familiar, too. He had smelled it before, at a big gathering in Houston at some Council Rag-Rah bullish!t meeting. Belonged to a Warden, Bob .. or Bart ... or something suitably Texan. Grim didn’t know much about the man, except he was a head of the local magic police. One the one hand, this might be an opportunity to earn a favor from a Warden. Of course, it probably wasn’t going to pay a lick of cash.

Grim had come because Murdoch had mentioned a job, and the exiled Winter scion could always use the money. Hell, the bus fare and a Whataburger had cost him twenty bones ... and four hours next to a guy who smelled like musty feet. But it was looking like Grim would have to keep an eye out for opportunities later.

When Grim stepped around the corner, he saw Patrick nearby talking with the Warden. Grim sauntered up to stare unblinkingly at the two. He wore weathered jeans and a short sleeved tee that read ‘Schrödinger's Cat Wanted - Dead and Alive’ under a flannel long sleeve shirt. As he approached, Grim nodded his head to both individuals. ”So officer ... who else are we expecting, and when do we get started?”

[Wuff]

Anna Clark allows her form to drift into view, drawing more energy to herself, thus becoming more visible and detectable to those around her. Bill, clearly, had already picked up on her presence. Her form is an idealised one, perhaps the type of look you might see framed in a lucky photograph. There's something about the look that is strikingly similar to those surviving, flattering paintings of royalty, and even a touch of sepia in her shade, brushed romantically. Her hair rests unmoved about her head, perfectly styled, defying gravity and the wind. A delicate wrap about her form finishes up the look, baring elegantly shaped shoulders and a prominent collarbone. She seems unmoved by the weather or temperatures.

Her eyes fall upon Grim, their weight resting on him momentarily, before flitting to Patrick. Anna makes a curtsy in greeting, though the motion is clipped and accompanied with a snorting laugh incongruous with the act.

"Hello from the other side, mortals. Or... Well, Mortal, I suppose." Her head dips slightly, as her shoulders rise, then fall with a dissonant, trilling laugh. "It's always a pleasure to meet you, even if I had to trudge through a mile of an uncharted hellscape to get here today."

[Eternis]

Harris makes a generally-uncomfortable-looking stretching motion with his shoulders and back, still stiff from clambering out of the too-small, third-hand bucket of bolts that had technically gotten him here in one piece, but not comfortably and still cost him more in maintenance and repairs than it had to buy from the dealership in the first place. eyes flitting quasi-methodically between the others at this meeting. The faces are familiar enough that he's pretty certain it's not another trap laid for him by spooks not too fond of his tendency to stickybeak, but that doesn't mean he can afford to let himself relax.

"I wasn't a fan of my trip, but I can't speak for the rest of us. Anyways, Bill- are enough of us here that you can tell us what you need, um..."

He pauses, taking a look about him. Much as it freaked him out sometimes, what he's found out about the world in the past while has brought him a sense of comfort in the people he's currently surrounded himself with. A phantom, a magical head-shrinker, and... Grim- these folks, while undoubtedly spooky, and would have freaked him out of his skin when he was just a bit younger, were as close to good as he's found at all in his life.

"...non-council-members for? And, uh, probably one of the biggest questions on my mind is why you said you'd still need me for this?"

[Starbin]

OOC - hullo? Are we done, I guess?