Witchcraft Actors (IC)

[SpoonyViking]

The Rover & DIOMIDIS
Night (Phase 0)
DIOMIDIS's Castle

"But please, forgive my rudeness. Could you tell me your name first of all before we old fools have our fun later?"

The Rover wanted to sigh, but didn't. Names. Mortals living and dead both placed a great deal of importance on names, didn't they? The Rover had used a few over the centuries, but could not remember if he had ever really cared about them. Blood by any other name would taste just as sweet, and shit would smell just as badly.

Then again, he mused wryly to himself in an unusual bout of self-awareness, the fact his own name was reviled even centuries later might have had something to do with it.

Names. Well, there was one name by which other bloodsuckers knew him, even if only as one of Altrouge's "envoys". He paused in his idle wandering and looked back at DIOMIDIS.

"I am The Rover," he said simply, lending the "name" no more significance than any other would have received. "As for the 'heart of the discord'..." He shrugged. "I imagine it's London - it's where the mages congregate, after all. Or we can just tail this army that's about to come through here."

He blinked; if his flesh still remembered how to do it, he might have even furrowed his brow in confusion.

"We". Did he really propose to band together with this DIOMIDIS? It seemed he did, even if he couldn't understand why.

Perhaps the companionship I sought was not that which is found among humans or beasts.

The thought was... Strangely appealing. To wallow in the stench of living death, to share in the misery of another existence unfit even as one of the Corpse-Father's sacrifices...

To confirm that which was already known.

Spoiler:

To sleep, to dream no more.

It was almost enough to teach his flesh to smile again.

[SleepMode]

Sahar Pneuma Artamenes
Afternoon (Phase 0)
The Judith

"Alright, I've decided. I want you to escort our two guests into town for the night and show them a good time. Entertain them and make sure no harm comes to them, got it? I'm counting on you!"

"Aye, sir."

-

–

— - What.

It took several instants for the Captain's order to finally sink in. Too preoccupied foreseeing the impending storm, he failed to realize a proverbial vortex beneath his feet. Taking a quick breath to compose himself, the bubbling curse within Sahar was flattened to a strangled grunt and tightened fist. Though the three are thankfully preoccupied in discussion, the pilot was already mulling over the current state of affairs.

By the moon, is this fool for real…

Delightful. His charge's impulse has already derailed the mandatory dealing with the Clock Tower by significant margins. All to play escort with secondaries -- who said charge took in, no less -- he will likely never see again once reaching Oxford. Were it not for the mission and guise, Sahar would have given the Captain a good earful about entertaining such frivolities, but as if "he" would listen to anyone or anything, much less him.

The Captain's orders were law, in the end.

Having the chance to examine their guests of honor proper, their presence in close proximity does strike a clear if curious contrast. The red-coated one has a well-traveled air, traces of well-treaded earth and raw herbs faint but apparent. The bespectacled one, in contrast, had a familiar aroma between sugar and ink; a cloistered academic through and through. Honestly, the two couldn't be any more different.

Sahar's mouth curled to a frown. A sniff.

Yet something more peculiar stuck to him, its hint at the back of his tongue.
The red-coated one has a certain clarity for all the cloyingness, not unlike the ocean air. And in the bespectacled miss… A dust-like staleness— –

"So, Mister... uh, Sahard?"

The mispronunciation of his name brought Sahar back to the deck, one of the duo's attention now on him. The pilot sniffed. Having been part of The Judith's crew for a reasonable duration, the struggle of the Englishmen handling a foreigner's name was hardly a new affair. At least the scholarly miss was known enough to correct her. Now that was a rare sight, one so familiar with his land's inflections. Didn't they mention her being a dealer of records? Makes sense of one with mercantile leanings.

Relaxing his knuckled grip, Sahar faced the scarlet traveler in earnest.

" Virginia Gilbert. It looks like we'll be walking together for a bit."

Not letting the gesture linger, the pilot accepts the outstretched hand with a stiff, if uneasy, smile of his own. If he were to accompany them for the duration, best play the part of the cooperative aide if only for convenience. Now to recall this nation’s etiquette…

"Just Sahar. As my captain wills, I shall be of assistance to the best of my ability, mistress Gilbert." Glancing to the bespectacled one, Sahar added, "And who should I address towards, noble madam…?"

[Sunny]

Virginia Gilbert
Afternoon (Phase 0)
The Judith

The dark-haired sailor didn't seem half as outspoken as his Captain, that was for sure. He was quick enough to give his assent to her orders, but after that, he was the quiet sort and seemed lost in thought while Virginia and the others talked.

There was nothing wrong with the quiet sort, mind, but it felt like he was using that quiet to size them up, and no mistake. His eyes were as alert as anyone's, which made sense for someone in the crow's nest, but hmm. Right to work as an escort, maybe, or perhaps feeling a bit put upon...

Well, he did just get saddled with a job outside his usual responsibilities. Virginia supposed not even the ship's crew--especially not the ship's crew--were safe from the Captain's sudden changes of direction. It was a wind that blessed her, Virginia knew, but it could just as easily be a curse for him.

There were some sorts who welcomed any excuse to slip off and cut loose and some who wanted to stay on task, where they feel they are needed and where they need to be. Not much question which kind this fellow was, then.

He wore it so clearly that Virginia couldn't tell if he was actually trying to hide his disagreement or not.

...Either he wasn't, or he wasn't very good at it, she thought.

"Just Sahar. As my captain wills, I shall be of assistance to the best of my ability, mistress Gilbert."

...But he was willing to take her hand, stiff as his grip might have been, and that made his manners kinder than many gentlemen she'd dealt with.

Well, Virginia realized too late that because of that, she might have been overenthusiastic shaking his hand, and she’s forgotten to restrain herself, but no sense worrying about that after the fact.

He seemed well-muscled enough to take it.

In the meantime, he had turned his attention to the noble lady behind her.

"And who should I address towards, noble madam…?"

"Jane Nowell, and well be with you, Master Shipman," her companion remarked, lifting the hems of her skirt lightly as she curtseyed. "Just Jane would be fine, if it pleases you. Truly, I've gotten accustomed to hearing my name unvarnished from Virginia already."

A cough. Her cheeks still faintly flushed, Virginia scratched at the side of her face and made a low grumbling noise. "Ah, I said I would, uh, try to speak more properly, if you prefer..."

"It's fine, it's fine," Jane waved her off quickly, giggling into her hand before turning back to the sailor. "I'm but a daughter carrying out her father's business, so pay me no special mind. My father is a scholar and antiquarian, so you can consider me merely a humble bookseller on his behalf on my way to do business in Oxford. It's a pleasure to meet you, Master Sahar."

As Virginia understood it, that was underselling matters somewhat. Of course, traveling to deal with the University of Oxford as a bookseller was the official story for Jane's travel to Oxford, but that cover story only worked because the books and manuscripts she dealt in were important enough to make it believeable.

...But then, Virginia was only particularly versed with one Book, so that was the extent of her knowledge on the subject. Codexes and manuscripts were quite beyond her.

Apparently though, Jane's collection and knowledge was valuable to the Holy Church, so Virginia wanted to make sure she arrived safe and sound before setting to work on her own assignment. Their meeting had been happenstance, but kindness should be paid with kindness.

Looking back to the Captain, then to Sahar, Virginia’s smile brightened up again.

”This will be my first time in the city, so we appreciate the kindness, and I’ll treat your lad well! We’ll have him back safe and sound!”

Not that she seemed aware of it, but Virginia’s tone seemed to have already taken on that of a visiting big sister or aunt.

”Ah, say, you don't have a curfew, do you?” She wondered aloud and questioned the sailor, inclining her head to the side. "If I need to have you back at a certain time, I'll do my best!"

…Yes, she certainly had.

[zikari8]

Nomine Aeve-Retinansia
Afternoon (Phase 0)
Aylesbury – Outskirts

"Yaaayyyy~! Courtesy is how you get into Empress Nero's good side! Keep it up and I guarantee you will quickly rise through the ranks smoothly!"

"Oh my, you should save this kind of thing to someone more deserving, such as the charming Queen this kingdom had. Don't waste it on a common folk like me. Besides..."

"You want to play this secretly, right?"

Briefly, Giovanni’s eyebrow rises at the Empress remark, but he quickly lets it go – either deeming it a simple mistake or just considering it not worth a comment.

When Nomine fails to follow his lead and take his hand, though, he sighs and awkwardly retracts it.

“I have no need of courting the favor of Empresses and Queens. The only royalty I believe in is our Lord in Heaven. But I guess you wouldn’t understand something like that…” He mutters in a resigned manner.

“I suppose you have a point, though. The darkness is our ally as much as it is theirs.” He accepts before stepping back into the unnaturally dark carriage, the door closing behind him without either of them touching it.

He plops back down on the cushioned seats and folds his arm in serious expectation of Nomine’s plan when—

"With that in mind, we better choose the darkest place and most accessible area we can find to stay. Places with a lot of alleyways and sewer access will be ideal."

“… huh?”

Giovanni tilts his head at her suggestion, the surprised confusion evident on his face even in the dark. After a few more moments of trying to wrap his head around his words, he finally realizes what she means and immediately cringes.

“Oh, right… I forgot how backwards you are.”

He groans as if having a migraine before lifting his head back up and shifting back into reprimanding mode.

“Idiot, this isn’t Rome. They don’t have sewers in this country anymore, at least not the type you’re thinking of, and definitely not in a town like this.”

He quickly wonders just what other parts of the owl’s knowledge were outdated. Could it be that this birdbrain still thought that Britain was part of the Roman Empire? Surely not… right?

“Anyways, putting that aside, you make a good point. Let’s look for a place out of sight and with lots of avenues of escape.”

With that said, Giovanni knocks on the back of the carriage wall to notify the driver – an ally who had been charged with bringing them here but would not be joining them in the fight.

“My apologies, dear fellow. Before we go, could you tour us around the town a bit? We’ll get off once we find a suitable place to stay – one nestled in the shade and far from a watchful eye hopefully. Thanks!”

The driver readily obliges, and the carriage start moving again into the town center.

It happens in but an instant, but it is a rare sight for Nomine. For just a moment… Giovanni had been smiling.

As he addressed his fellow man, his voice shifted from its usual harsh tones to a gentle, friendly hum. His perpetual frown melted away to reveal a soft smile brimming with warmth and care. But the moment he finished talking and turned back to Nomine, all there was to see was the usual stern grimace that seemed to always plaster his face. As if that smile had been a lie the whole time.

But just like that, the carriage continued onwards, and Giovanni faces his partner with his usual countenance as he likely always would…

---

Nomine Aeve-Retinansia
Afternoon (Phase 0)
Aylesbury – Town Center

Riding the carriage, Nomine and Giovanni enter the town of Aylesbury under the cover of the carriage’s dark interior. From within, the two can look through the windows and get an – admittedly dim – glimpse at the lively town.

As expected of a market town, traffic is heavy even after midday. Carriages like theirs enter and exit the town at a constant rate while pedestrians of all sorts run about the sides of the stone-paved road with a spirited pace.

A merchant yells at a customer trying to haggle for a better price on the textiles being cold. A child loading a carriage drops the basket in their arms and lets the apples within roll onto the ground. A woman hauls a heavy bucket of water from the well and glowers at her husband for not helping her.

From their carriage window, all these sorts of people minding their own business fill their view.

After a while of silence, Giovanni finally decides to comment on it.

“… we’re being watched.”

Nomine is able to feel it too: the distinct, indescribable feeling of eyes on you. It is an unshakeable sense that someone is watching them. But at the same time, it’s weird.

The gaze isn’t consistent. It isn’t like someone is following them and constantly keeping an eye on them. Instead, the feeling just pops up randomly and then disappears after a while. After travelling a few more yards, the feeling comes back but this time the gaze is coming from a completely different direction. The sense of being watched just keeps coming and going arbitrarily at about every other street they go down, making it difficult to track where and who it’s coming from.

After some silent contemplation, Giovanni turns to his partner.

“What do you make of this, Nomine?”

[King Prussia]

Cuthbert Ronwedehouse
Afternoon (Phase 0)
Westminster – Collegiate Church of St Peter

Leaning towards his interlocutor with his head resting upon his right fist, Cuthbert was politely listening to the story being told to him. Or considering its content, maybe it should rather be considered as a report… a fable ? … He didn’t quite seem to fit the definition despite certainly including a particular moral lesson when it came to his new comrade here.

Of course it may be that already calling him ‘new comrade’ was being a bit too forward but if anything, wasn’t sharing stories one of the most traditional ways of bonding with someone ? Nearly as much as sharing a meal in one’s home, even if he feared that opportunities to share such a communal occasion couldn’t be afforded until they were all done with those hard times.

Or may never be afforded to happen, of course.

But as this thought was far too dispiriting to consider and as such, it was better to focus back on the story that despite not being particularly cheerful was at least cheerfully told !

And it was an interesting look into the first impression his interlocutor wanted to give him. Or maybe into the kind of person that he simply was, even if in the Lord’ experience people were rarely so helpful as to give him a clear perspective into ‘who they are’ on a first meeting.

But his new friend here seemed intent on putting him to the test, maybe even trying to test what his limits and those of his authority were ? Under a certain light it was quite nostalgic, reminding him of a certain number of star students and teachers both that had wanted to see how far they could push the Lord of their new department before he pushed back.

Oh, well ! He knew what his own demeanour was and how it could inspire such attitudes so he had just learned to enjoy the back-and-forth that usually came with it !

“Therefore, Lord, the only thing that I want to know is if you have the proper mindset for this expedition. Ah, sorry, but it seems I’ve answered your question with a question of my own. But don’t worry, I have confidence in your ability!”

“ Ah ! You are not bothered by starting with the hard ones, are you ? “ Thoughtfully tapping and stroking his beard as he contemplated the question, a grin on his face. As much as the timing was inconvenient, this type of back-and-forth was still familiar and thus enjoyable.

“ If you are worried that I would censor actions such as those you told me about, I would see little point in doing so. If you would forgive me for the comparison ! If you were to ask a famous singer to compose a ballad for a feast you were hosting, it would be gauche to oversee how they are writing every verse wouldn’t you say ? “

“ But ! “ Clasping his hands together and offering a bright smile at the man in front of him, Cuthbert was straightening his posture in an elan of enthusiasm. “ This is not yet ‘answering your question now’, is it ? So let’s just jump straight together into the matter ! “

“If that’s the case, please tell me what you would like to do first. A play requires more than a single actor, and a battle is no different. If I could make a suggestion, it would be to put a face to the name of your enemy as quickly as possible. It would allow me to better serve the Clock Tower’s mission that way.”

“ I do agree with you here if not for one caveat: our first effort should be to assemble with our fellow magi recruited from the Clock Tower and sister organisations to work as a true hunting party. To pursue the metaphor, we need the crew assembled and the stage set before the play can truly start. “

“ And if you would believe me, those words are not simply those of a dreamer seeing cooperation as an innate moral good. Rather it is guided by my own vision of the situation in this conflict. “

“ Which is that simply by fighting it, we are losing. We cannot afford a prolonged war in the shadows against those invaders and monsters because every battle to be fought changes this island, from the dominion of the Crown and backyard of the Clock Tower to contested lands. Unless the victory is a crushing one, we will show that we have to fight to keep foreigners from acting in our home and that the idea of them coming here without invitation isn’t purely ridiculous. “

“ Every folly committed by the Dead Apostles will only strengthen the faith of the Holy Church that they can and have to come here as missionaries and protectors ; every one of us that falls in battle will excitate the appetites of those same Dead Apostles, thinking what is chaos for us will be a banquet for them. “

“ So here is my trouble: speed is of the essence when it comes to acting but we need every action, every effort to be nothing less than overwhelming if we are to retrieve our peace. “

“ Of course. “ Clapping his hands with a small sigh, he still doesn’t let go of his smile. “ I may have the vision but what you do seem to have in troves compared to me is experience and I would be a fool to not use it. “

“ So here if you were to indulge my curiosity: what are your talents best used for ? “

[Spartacus]

Nomine Aeve-Retinansia
Afternoon (Phase 0)
Aylesbury – Outskirts


"Oh... right."

Her smile slowly fades from her lips.

Normally, Nomine is carefree enough to not be bothered by cold treatment and unkind remarks. Neither does she holds a firm stance whenever her belief is insulted by someone. She always chooses the path with the least conflict available to her, just like thousands of worthless plebians like her once were.

But-

You wouldn't understand. Backward. Not Rome.

"Ahaha... you are absolutely correct, what am I thinking?"

Indeed, why would she be deluded by the time she always sees, when no one on Earth is capable to share that distant but nostalgic view? Just like the third time is the charm, she can't handle reality more than three.

The stone road was made without care?

The brick houses make the town monotonous?

The buildings were made with a lack of care?

The woods? The blocks? The people? She can't help but sneer at what she sees.

"How unsightly."

Her eyes remain shut for the rest of their travel.

---

Nomine Aeve-Retinansia
Afternoon (Phase 0)
Aylesbury – Town Center


"..."

Nomine can't care less about the trip they are currently having anymore. Whether it is the outskirts of Aylesbury or its noisy center, she no longer can recognize them as what they aren't.

“… we’re being watched.”

"Mhm."

Her life experience has certainly honed her sense that she can instantly feel the blatant attempt to watch over their movement. But she has never been a hunter, she can't detect anything her eyes can't see. Even after she opened her eyes again to spot where these watchers lurk, she can't locate anything obvious around the town.

If there is something that she noticed, is the fact that these observers need to be close enough to them for their presence to be felt, they need their vision.

Then the obvious answer is to rob them of that vision.

"As long it can't be traced at us by the public, anything fine, right?" She give a smile to Giovanni, as it wasn't an actual question for him to answer. "Expand. My shadow."

It happens in an instant.

One could say that it's like a flash, but what's currently happening is the far opposite of it.

Not just the light that enters the carriage but also the city lights and sun rays. Not just the carriage interior but also the exterior. Not just their carriage but also the dozen or even hundreds of carriages in that town. Not just Nomine and Giovanni but also the merchants, women, and children around them. All of it, either inanimate or animate, without any exception, has now been drenched in a town-sized pitch black.

She can't contain her monstrous grin, clearly enjoying the situation.

"What are you gonna do?"

wise-up!

Shadow Manipulation
Type: DA Ability
Rank: ?

She is very proficient in controlling her shadows. She can extend her shadows to more than 50 meters, and she makes the area in complete darkness whenever there is light to be around. (One-Line / 40 Prana)

[zikari8]

Ella Alderman & Hanserl Albenheim
Afternoon (Phase 0)
Clock Tower – Spiritual Evocation Department

"What is our compensation for our labor. We are not slaves after all, surely they do not expect magi of all people to work out of the kindness of their hearts?"

Perhaps already expecting this kind of question, Ghislaine answers it coolly and immediately, without any need for thought.

“Of course. You will be monetarily compensated accordingly for your labor and risk.” She states before taking out a quill and parchment to quickly write something down. “We can offer you each this much for your involvement in the conflict.”

She slides the piece of parchment over to the two of them to show them the sum of money that they will receive. It is a substantial amount, but not a fortune by any means. To put it in relative terms, it is about equal to four months of salary for a second-grade lecturer.

“The Clock Tower’s resources are spread a little thin due to the war, so this is the most that we get.” Ghislaine dramatically sighs, throwing up her shoulders.

Then, with a slight smirk, Ghislaine closes her eyes and starts speaking slightly louder than before.

“Ah, but now that I think about it, I had heard a rumor that the higher-ups are paying a lot of attention to the merits of everyone who’s participating in the war. Well, with the chaotic scrambling and tragic deaths from the battle, it is true that quite a few seats and titles have opened up. I reckon those who make big contributions to the battle will probably be the first on their minds when choosing who to fill those seats.”

Her smirk shifts into an assured smile. Opening one eye, she gazes at the two other magi with a wink.

“Well, that’s just a rumor. Would be nice if it were true, don’t you think? I’d be happy if I could come out of this war with a cozy, secure position.”

Then, just as smoothly as she started her abrupt addendum, she shifts back into her previous professional grace as if it had never happened.

"... Very well, if that is all you require of me then I have no cause to refuse. When are we expected to depart, and for how long should we expect to be occupied with these preparations? I may need to make some arrangements."

“Glad to have you onboard, Mr. Albenheim.”

Ghislaine gives him a confident nod without any emotion or hesitation, as if his participation had already been a foregone conclusion.

“We’ll be departing for Oxford by boat in four days’ time. Including travel, the estimated timeframe for completing the base is two weeks. As for preparations, you are free to make your own and take whatever you require, but we do ask that you refrain from bringing any luggage too large or heavy for naval travel.”

With that, Ghislaine makes one last sweep through the two magi’s eyes to see if there were any more concerns before continuing.

“Well then, if that’s everything, I think we can call this meeting here. Thank you both for your time. I do have another meeting I have to head to, but I’ll keep in touch with further details and if you have any other questions. Other than that, I’ll see you two in four days at the dockyard.”

Saying that, Ghislaine heads picks up her stuff and heads for the door… before suddenly turning on her heel and facing the two of them once again.

“Oh, right. I almost forgot one thing. Your question of compensation just reminded me, Ms. Alderman. I should inform you of something before I go.”

She turns her gaze to Ella with completely stoic expression, making it clear what she was about to say was not the result of her own will but the orders of someone else.

“You may already know this, but the Atlas Institute is lending us their assistance in the war with the Holy Church. Due to their expertise in creation, they are also sending some of their agents to assist in the construction of the base.”

“I’m mentioning this because they were actually the ones who specifically requested that you be added to the construction team for this mission. They even offered to cover the cost of your compensation. So, if you wish to discuss further compensation, you may be able to do so with one of their representatives.”

With that final piece of information, Ghislaine leaves the meeting room.

Only Ella and Hanserl remain in the room now, unsupervised. Whether they choose to return to their residence immediately to make their preparations or stay and speak with each other was now up to them.

[Bugs]

Altis Laramie Falstaff
Afternoon (Phase 0)
Westminster – Collegiate Church of St Peter

“ So here if you were to indulge my curiosity: what are your talents best used for ? “

Altis laughed, then, a tinkling wind chime to stir the tepid church air. He couldn’t help it, his new bearded friend was as entertainingly earnest as he’d been led to believe.

Surely he wasn’t actually this naive. No, that can’t be it. A lordship presenting itself as a cushy job for elderly do-nothings was exactly that: a presentation. Smoke and mirrors. Though the battles may have been bloodless, it’s no doubt Cuthbert had probably experienced his own white-collar battlefield in the past. And if he was truly this green…Altis would take the liberty of introducing him to the real world.

Unfortunately, speculation of his own teammates was not why Master Dee had called him out here. Another glance exchanged with the calm man all but confirms that fact. It was time to lay the appropriate cards on the table. Clearing his throat, Altis made a show of adjusting his posture to match Cuthbert’s in a pantomime of the situation’s seriousness.

“Pardon my outburst, Lord, I merely believe that the specialties of those labeled priest hunters like myself should go without saying.”

“Therefore, I would like to inform you of the kind of weapon you’re receiving. I would also like to present some issues of my own, after which I will be looking forward to getting started.” The blonde man held up two gloved fingers as he illustrated his point.

Altis sat back, briefly playing with a piece of his chopped fringe as he considered the best way to present himself. Though he was on loan, he was still a magus in his own right. To reveal too much, even to one’s friends, spelled potential death on an intergenerational level

“Let’s see…if we were to hypothetically use the pieces of a chessboard as a temporary analogy, I suppose you could call me a knight. Do you understand, Lord?”

The knight. The only piece capable of moving through others, of instantaneously exchanging locations in order to gain a beneficial position. One might be surrounded on all sides, but the unorthodox movement of the knight guaranteed that neither defense nor offense would ever be as simple as either would appear. An incredibly cliche metaphor, but Altis still hoped Cuthbert would find it satisfactory.

“Frankly, I was never worried about either the Department of Spiritual Evocation or its illustrious Lord condemning my actions. If your faction was worried about appearances, I daresay any consideration of hiring me for the job would have been met with some objection. I can consider the situation desperate–by your own admission, no less–but not so desperate that the mission cannot forgo its original clandestine nature.”

“But the last thing I wish to do is repeat information of which we are both aware. A dog I might be, but I fail even at playing the faithful, unquestioning hound by way of my insatiable curiosity. My greatest wish at this moment would be for you to find a suitable outlet for this energy, Lord. I do not believe your expectations will go unmet.”

“I am a simple hunter, Lord, with an appropriate skill set that matches the others who enjoy my occupation. I gather all pertinent information regarding my prey, after which I track my quarry until a viable shooting opportunity presents itself. I will track my prey to the ends of God’s Creation, at which point–and perhaps this is a little embarrassing!--I am quite confident I will never miss my target.”

“That being said, your explanation still leaves me with questions. Questions that I will need answered one way or another if I am to perform at max capacity, so that we might both expedite this conflict.”

Altis paused, searching Cuthbert’s face for a sign unknowable. Apparently satisfied with what he’d seen, the blonde man continues.

“Dead Apostle…if I’m not mistaken, this is the first time that title has ever come up in our conversation thus far. I am not accusing you of concealing information, Lord, but the inclusion of the bloodsuckers into the equation has me wondering a few things. Specifically, the nature of the factions I am to believe we are up against. ”

“Up until now I was under the assumption that this assault was not being administered from multiple angles. That may still be the case. It might not. The particulars of any conflict between the Church and the Dead Apostles alone are something I don’t care to ever know. If the bloodsuckers are simply feeding off the dead left by the Church, so be it. The fact remains that both are threat enough to this country that you have sought my help. I need only as much information as you have gathered on the foe, the remainder of which I shall find for myself in the course of this hunt, at your leisure.”

“With all of that in mind, I have two favors to ask before I lend you the power of my bow.”

“The first is that in the event of an encounter with a Dead Apostle, you allow me to end its life.”

Altis’ expression remained unchanged, but the tension in the room had definitely undergone some kind of alteration. It might have been an illusion, but for the first time that day something approaching anger had crept into Altis’ voice at the very fringes. A glistening wine bubble of ephemeral rage, one that disappears the moment it’s put under any manner of scrutiny.

“The second is, well, how do I put this…can I call you Gramps instead? The word ‘Lord’ is already beginning to sound unpleasant, like a toad squatting in my throat. Hahahaha!”

[GilgameshKingOfMemes]

Ella Alderman
Afternoon (Phase 0)
Clock Tower – Spiritual Evocation Department

The status of the association seems to be about in line as she would have expected, nothing too dire yet but their struggling is optimal for advancement. Continuing with the plan to increase political capital seems to remain the reason to get involved. With loss comes opportunity, that's just the kind of place the Clocktower remains to be. She was never one for making personal connections but business dealings are fine enough as long as they remain short. She'd have to see who is directly involved in this war and the area she'll be fortifying. It will probably be quite tedious. Then of course there's filling power vacuums, that can be it's own kind of pain.

As a woman with lots of stuff, the concerns over luggage prove to be bothersome as well. Perhaps living frugally again for the first time in the past decade might be healthy for the soul but the pillars could prove an issue to carry. Those things remain more valuable than any meager, fort she'd have to give them the highest security. That probably means standing right next to them to ensure they are always in her sight, the thought is already agonizing. She’d have to see what Emet could get away with carrying to try and fit all the required luxuries of life onto a single ship. If she doesn't then how will the slog across the water be anything but unbearable.

Originally Posted by Ghislaine Beaudet
“I’m mentioning this because they were actually the ones who specifically requested that you be added to the construction team for this mission.”

An annoying answer to a rather important question. Who else but Atlas? They would be one of the only groups of people around with the gall to make a request such as this. She hoped it wasn’t Zafeiriou who did this. At least she thought that was their name, it had been so long since she bothered to remember the name of that random alchemist. They met once fifty years ago and the old bastard’s still sending letters about nothing worthwhile. Though considering this is a violent affair it probably isn’t him, too much of a pacifist. Not that cutting him out narrows it down for her. It seems her darling has connections who are persistent as they are surprising. Still, as good as they can be for business, it’s the bitter taste these folks leave in her mouth after everything before that ruins their involvement with this affair.

For now she’d have to put it aside and instead spend some time playing with the lecturer. She can’t help sympathizing with the young man. The futile attempts to remain stoic, the harsh annoyance hidden unsubtly below the skin.
Such agony is an unmistakable burden on the heart Ella could easily recognize anywhere. She had seen such pitiful sorrow a thousand times over, a common sight that plagues the age. Yes, this tragic commonality should be the essence of her approach to their haphazard alliance. It’s as she said, magi can try their best but they can’t help but be human.

Indeed, this boy should learn just what wrath can do.

“What bothers you so Grumpy sir? You’re quite inexperienced when it comes to hiding your ire, the troubled feelings are unmistakable. Such a grated stoic expression doesn’t suit you, your pretty face might get stuck that way….. I’ll be clear. A suppressed wrath will only be troublesome for the both of us. A magus should be efficient, you’d need not explain everything but I can help enough to avoid stepping on each other's toes. Surely you understand.”

[Ayr]

"We’ll be departing for Oxford by boat in four days’ time. Including travel, the estimated timeframe for completing the base is two weeks."

Hanserl accepted the information with a curt nod. The compensation was generous - far more than his cynicism had allowed him to expect - and four days would be more than enough time to put things in order.
Less acceptable was the length of this planned absence. His

garden

workshop

could continue to operate with just minimal preparations on his part, and he had no doubt his classroom would survive on even less, but those were not the full extent of his responsibilities. While almost anyone halfway competent could be left behind to monitor his ongoing projects, none could be trusted with this last duty but himself. Watching Ghislaine leave, he attempted to make peace with the single, obvious, awful solution: he was just going to have to take them all with him. To a place filled with strangers. And on a boat trip, at that. Lovely.

Fortunately, he would have to put this oncoming bout of catastrophic thinking on hold, as it seemed his fellow guest wished to address him.

“What bothers you so Grumpy sir? You’re quite inexperienced when it comes to hiding your ire, the troubled feelings are unmistakable. Such a grated stoic expression doesn’t suit you, your pretty face might get stuck that way….. I’ll be clear. A suppressed wrath will only be troublesome for the both of us. A magus should be efficient, you’d need not explain everything but I can help enough to avoid stepping on each other's toes. Surely you understand."

Ah, so she just wanted to

express her concern

probe him for weaknesses

. How kind. But if she was going to be poking her nose into his affairs, it's better he answer than let anyone else speak for him. Perhaps it would be good for him.

"Would you believe me if I said it was the climate? That I simply find the air here disagreeable, even after all this time? No, I suppose not, so let's save that unsatisfying prattle for the next busybody."

Frankly, the air quality had come to be one of the least disagreeable things about his time on this dreadful island.

"It is no great secret that my current situation resembles that described by Lady Beaudet earlier, of those families driven from their homes by the hounds of the Holy Church. The chief difference is simply one of distance, as I hail from the mainland. I arrived on this country's grey shores just a few years back, and have since then strived to continue in my duty as a magus despite the circumstances. But in practical terms, that duty is now simply to survive until the time where we might reclaim what's been lost.

"And sometimes, in the name of that survival, we allow ourselves to put up with slights we never would have tolerated before. What value has dignity when the alternative is so dire?"

For instance, one might find themselves selling precious heirlooms for a mere pittance to secure safe travels, or passing the secrets handed down by their ancestors into the hands of ungrateful children, or bending over backwards to the whims of talentless fools with little better to do with their lives but sit around talking about nothing.

"Hah, for what little it matters now that I learn even here won't be safe from their depredations. But let me assure you, Miss Alderman, that should the time for it come I will have no issues expressing my 'wrath' towards that end as well."

Hannes willed his face to relax into a tired expression that might have halfway resembled a smile. This small concession was allowable, and there was just the one point left for him to address anyway.

"Ah, but, I really do appreciate your candour, and so - in the spirit of not stepping on each other's toes - I'll tell you now that it would be in our partnership's best interest if you refrained from commenting on my appearance like that, even in jest. Surely you understand."

After all, there was only one person in the entire world he would permit to tease him so, even in this sorry state.

[Bird of Hermes]

DIOMIDIS... & Rover
Night (Phase 0)
DIOMIDIS's Castle


London. The capital and the throne from where the royalty ruled their rapscallions. Some would call it the heart of the nation and modern civilisation! Those people would have poor taste or be woefully foolish. It was naught but a gilded cage with enough smiles and sights to make the simple man not realising he was in a festering rot, a hive of scum and villainy. The idea of the crown being crushed beneath his foot, setting all the buildings ablaze, ripping and tearing his way through the commonfolk, nobility and knights alike then ripping the skys themselves open with thunder and lightning... Cut off the head and the body dies. If London would be destroyed so completely then the nation would be in dissaray.

So much chaos, so much destruction, so much FUN. It would be an action that was genuinely worthwhile. Why, DIOMIDIS could not think of a better way to spend the evening!

And... was that a proposal of companionship as the two waged war on the soul of the country?

"Why Lord Rover, to tail the army to the hear before ripping it asunder sounds WONDROUS I tell you!"

Not one to waste the gesture, DIOMIDIS sprung up and leapt from his position in a single bound, landing before his newest compatriot in a single beautiful motion that was as loud and subtle as a bag of potatoes being swung at a crying orphan. The lord of this golden castle was many things, quiet was not one of them as The Rover was likely already regretting. Standing before him, DIOMIDIS stood before him in all his radiant and gauche glory that was equal parts genuine power and sheer obliviousness.

Not that the one who named himself after the divine in all his ego would have noticed.

"Now Lord Rover, I DIOMIDIS shall be in your care as you presume to have knowledge of the land and trail. Good sir I trust you follow the rules of hospitality and do not conduct yourself in a manner that would betray me. And in return you have the word of DIOMIDIS that I shall be a good guest, not devour your food and when we arrive in jolly london, I shall perform a dance of blood that you shall not forget."

—

—

- "Simply stay out of my path. I shall give warning but if you remain in my vicinity when the dance begins, I promise to slay you last."

[SpoonyViking]

The Rover & DIOMIDIS
Night (Phase 0)
DIOMIDIS's Castle

Now Lord Rover, I DIOMIDIS shall be in your care as you presume to have knowledge of the land and trail. Good sir I trust you follow the rules of hospitality and do not conduct yourself in a manner that would betray me. And in return you have the word of DIOMIDIS that I shall be a good guest, not devour your food and when we arrive in jolly london, I shall perform a dance of blood that you shall not forget."

—

—

- "Simply stay out of my path. I shall give warning but if you remain in my vicinity when the dance begins, I promise to slay you last."

There was a brief, hoarse sound, something akin to a corpse's last breath. The Rover paused, mildly puzzled - where had such a sound come from?

The sound repeated itself, and The Rover frowned in utter bewilderment.

The sound repeated itself again and again, growing in strength but not length, staccato bursts of something that now sounded more like a bark than anything.

It took him too long to realise the sound had come from him.

A walking corpse that hadn't even smiled in over a century was now re-learning how to laugh.

He hesitantly raised a hand to his face, as if he needed to confirm by touch what his mind couldn't comprehend, but paused with it in mid-air - and then he let out more of that strange, barking laughter, and finally the merriment reached his eyes.

When the strange sound finally subsided after a few minutes, his eyes still shone.

"So be it... Lord DIOMIDIS. Frost for the hellfire without, stew of nails and scorpion tails for the farer from beyond the mountains, blood and vinegar to they who come for the feast; all of that I promise to share with you, in exchange for a look at your dance. And if it truly is as beautiful as you say it is..."

His mouth formed into a horrendous rictus, nothing more than a mockery of a smile by flesh which had long forgotten such joy, but a soft tremble of excitement was unmistakable as he finished:

"Then I shall happily take thy hand and dance with thee."

Let no more songs of failure be sung, no memories of a false paradise lost torment; from now on, only the killing wand shall play the orator for me.

Let both Heaven and Earth my worthless life deplore.

All that is not Heaven shall be Hell.

[King Prussia]

Cuthbert Ronwedehouse
Afternoon (Phase 0)
Westminster – Collegiate Church of St Peter


It wasn’t because one of the participants of this conversation had been silent since its near beginning that Lord Ronwedehouse wasn’t dialoguing with his dear friend John Dee.

Realistically the only way for his new young friend (currently in the middle of an informative speech) to not be “accepted” into this very special project was if none of them made it alive out of this room. And even then the magus amusedly thought to himself, he might still be enrolled post-mortel as the first martyr of this task force entrusted with the defence of the English soil.

But refusing the priest in any shape or form would be dealing an unneeded blow to the alliance between the Clock Tower and the kingdom’s government.

Such an act would go far beyond mere idiocy and rudeness into the specific kind of conduct that would make someone forever immortal in medicinal treaties related to the various attitudes and products that could cause the permanent loss of one’s mental faculties.

And yet it didn’t mean that he had the luxury of accepting too quickly either.

Asking for help as they might be (begging some would say, having replaced their own reasoning with dramatic declarations), his fellow magus and Lords of the Clock Tower would not appreciate it if the offered help was accepted too quickly.

But so would Lord Dee.

It wasn’t a mere banal deal that was being concluded in this room and it needed to be given the proper amount of consideration. If he had to make a slightly rude comparison, you didn’t buy a prized horse in the same manner you would a basket of breads and eggs.

The mere opportunity to make such a deal should be properly appreciated, the process itself should be savoured for the unique opportunity that it was and not simply solved with expediency. Pigging on your plate in front of the chef himself was the height of rudeness.

The ‘prospective’ recruit could enjoy a good chance of being impressive in front of his superior by leading the conversation, while Cuthbert himself may enjoy the simple pleasure of a new interesting meeting with someone who wasn’t lacking in bravado !

It would be uselessly mean to think his interlocutor’s attitude was a facade to be put during important meetings. Or at least he hoped that it wasn’t the case, as it was entertaining him more than it should ! He was wondering how much this new colleague would be willing to push him before they all left the room.

“The first is that in the event of an encounter with a Dead Apostle, you allow me to end its life.”

“ This isn’t ‘knowledge’ but depending on how optimistic you feel, you could call it either a ‘prediction’ or a ‘fear’. “

The topic was heavy enough for the Lord’s voice to make itself more sober, not losing any of its friendly touch but instead gaining a certain focus to mark the discussion to come as more than amical banter. His posture was slightly adjusting too, his left hand resting on his lap and his right one coming to softly tap against his chin.

“ We have at the moment no reason to suspect that Dead Apostles are planning to join the confrontations to come. But if we let ourselves be dragged into a prolonged war, the kind of chaos that would emerge is the one that would attract bloodsuckers. The Clock Tower and the Holy Church bloodied and fighting each other would give the daring ones a cover for their own activities, if not opportunities to aggravate the situation by trying to deal with us. “

“ Of course, if a particularly problematic bloodsucker was to make itself known during the course of this collaboration… “

There was a short pause in Cuthbert’s answer as he contemplated the matter, a bemused smile coming to him. It wasn’t every day that he had to contemplate what force would make the worst kind of (hopefully temporary) neighbours: the Catholics or the Dead Apostles ?

“ … I can think of very few situations in which we would like to conserve such a specimen ‘alive’ and none where it would be anything close to practical. “

His answer is finally delivered with his hands joined together over his chest and a pleasant smile. This had been a simple matter to consider as his mind hadn’t been on the ‘bloodsucker’ problem: his commitment to the task at hand was fuelled by his devotion to the cause of reaching the Root.

If his young friend was feeling as strongly towards the extermination of Dead Apostles then well, who was he to judge ?

“ It would be quite hard to deal with the current issues if we allowed more of those issues to come and go as they please. So if we were to encounter ‘them’, consider what is left of their life as yours to end. “

“The second is, well, how do I put this…can I call you Gramps instead? The word ‘Lord’ is already beginning to sound unpleasant, like a toad squatting in my throat. Hahahaha!”

This time it was truly too much for the Lord to take without reacting.

Truth to be told he had expected this sort of attitude would come at least a few hours after the meeting had properly ended.

(He had quickly discounted the notion it would last beyond the day, as he fully knew how certain types of personalities reacted to him)

But the brazenness of the question was enough for Cuthbert to laugh without hesitation, his head coming to rest on his left fist as he took the seconds necessary to regain his composure. Softly sighing as his cheerful laughter finally died down, he thoughtfully caressed his beard as he seemed to muse over the question.

“ I could be tempted to believe my personality has already won you over “, he answered with good humour as he amusedly glanced towards Lord Dee. His friend had certainly brought an interesting person for what was such an important mission.

Should he consider his attitude as ‘rude’ ? Probably but he didn’t really see a good enough reason to care.

Both of them were from essentially unrelated hierarchies at the moment and if he had to be honest with himself, bringing an academic title to what was a ‘military’ situation was not as impressive as centuries of philosophers and poets have wished it would be.

As long as he could ensure certain guidelines were being followed and the mandate they had been entrusted with was accomplished, he could laugh it off and wave his hand at the matter.

It was after all unbecoming of a magus to focus too much on earthly matters.

“ Then I suppose, ‘why not’ ? At my age I could use the reminder that I shouldn’t let my dear friend Lord Dee be the only one to have proud descendants to carry his name. “

[GilgameshKingOfMemes]

Ella Alderman
Afternoon (Phase 0)
Clock Tower – Spiritual Evocation Department

Originally Posted by Hanserl Albenheim
“Ah, but, I really do appreciate your candour, and so - in the spirit of not stepping on each other's toes - I'll tell you now that it would be in our partnership's best interest if you refrained from commenting on my appearance like that, even in jest. Surely you understand..”

“I do, I do! It's just.... I mean what I’ve said in earnest. God has granted you a chance and I have taken notice. This may be a stage for one's vexations and innumerable sorrows. An opportunity that cannot be wasted, a means to placate melancholy. Dreams may not always come true, even so, there is no other path but to return to the world the same as it has given you. Perhaps unbecoming of a magus, but I can only speak from the heart, kindred spirits and all. It’s a vow. I’ll help you find the only solution I’ve ever known to work.”

Somedays, when the whims of God decree, the heartless can have their blood flow. A tiny spark in an empty husk feels like a turbulent cascade as the muddy reflection of memory found in him is glimmering back. The man who was perhaps a confirmation of all she believed and the cycles of the world which led them here. It was something to prove and something which sates, an unfathomable curiosity and bubbling dread.

Perhaps it is fitting for a selfish soul to only find empathy in the mirror. Regardless, as the wisdom of her better would claim, it’s still true. Therefore, she can only do as she always does. She enact on the regrets she sees. Things said and unsaid in past days are a curse drowned in sorrow contained by our own hollow shells. It becomes the only thing which tethers you. So in turn, they shall continue to wash this blood with blood.

“In fact, to show my goodwill I leave the doors of my estate open to you. Shouldn’t be too hard to find if you ever want to visit. We don’t get guests often, consider it an honor.”

There is rarely a rush to a relationship of any kind. She had certainly learned from dating and marriage that the ideal is patient persistence. Pushing too hard would just scare him away, but if she just lets him escape her grasps, it will be harder to pull him in. Thus, for the time, her mind was drawn to more important concerns….

Such as Emet. Hopefully she didn’t leave him waiting too long, he’s so diligent but she knows he gets lonely. She’ll have to find something more interesting for him to do rather than just standing and waiting. Maybe a new outfit she thought, he will be seeing those alchemists again so it’s good to look his best. Forgetting her new mission for a moment, her mind drifted to this new, far more pressing matters.

[Bugs]

“ Then I suppose, ‘why not’ ? At my age I could use the reminder that I shouldn’t let my dear friend Lord Dee be the only one to have proud descendants to carry his name. “

“And God blessed them, and sayde vnto them: Growe, and multiple, and fyll the earth, and subdue it, and have domynion ouer the fish of the see, and ouer the foules of the ayre, and oure all the beastes that crepe vpo the earth.”

The words spilled out of Altis as he closed his eyes, reciting from memory the text held sacred by the ones he was sworn to destroy. An interesting fellow, God.

“Thus spoke God, a divine commandment that our enemies posit as justification for their actions, while at the very same time denying that promised dominion to their fellow man. A bit hypocritical, in my humble opinion.”

Well, it’s not as though interesting people were without their flaws. That’s what made them interesting, in all honesty. The imperfections of life, reflecting outwards like cracks in a mirror. Too often the word “perfect” was bandied about with little consideration for actual perfection.

“Ah, but then, I was never much a believer in needing explicit permission to participate in something I was tailored and designed for by nature. I suppose that makes me something of a heretic, which makes my position of employment all the more fortuitous, don’t you agree?”

Green eyes peered at the two men with feline slits, mildly reflective in the afternoon sun. As much as he liked playing with his food, there was artistry in pressuring the responses he desired out of his prey. A suggestion here, a penetrating question there, a subtle flexing of his own might to dissuade certain foolish thoughts. Feints within feints within feints. But he didn’t have time to truly savor the experience, because his masters wouldn’t allow it.

Time.

Time is such a fickle mistress. Do everything in your power to make her feel more at ease, and you will find she has already departed. You search, pleading for her return, but she remains one step out of reach. Maddeningly so. Only when you have given up, when you turn your mind away from her, does Time surprise you with her presence once more.

These magi understood time’s futility more than the rest of their species, but to their own detriment. To magi, it was not the future that was an abstraction, but the present. So many of them that Altis met have proven no more than wandering husks. Waiting, always waiting for Then to become Now so that they might turn to their peers and proclaim: “I was right. Genuflect upon my genius, as I have made reality a thing of my own.”

Unlikely.

The world of the present is more beautiful than the world of the future, by virtue of its own existence. A self-evident truth, perhaps. Would it still be beautiful if the present was devoid of observers, that it was impossible to verify? Altis had no doubts. He never did much.

But the opinions of something like Altis were never in high demand in the first place, but that was fine.

“What I’m trying to get at, Gramps, is that by entering into this contract with me, you might as well be forfeiting what little time you have left. Confident as I am, we could totally die! Therefore, I am willing to begin early in your stead, so that you may prove yourself fruitful to a woman in the event that either of us should meet our fate and perish in an untimely fashion.”

“It would be economical to not rely on someone like me for that, right? Wait, this is a situation in which I should be extremely flattered for the opportunity…”

“Regardless, my requests have been answered satisfactorily, and for that I thank you. I shall be as the wolf or the wildcat, as the buzzard picking through its feast of corpse-flesh.”

That was a cool line, wasn’t it? Oh, but it feels like he was forgetting something important…

“That being said, I shall sum up with one final word of, um, caution. I may be called a mannerless boor–and those perceptive parties may well be correct!--but I am still a representative of my order; one amongst many. For my Master’s sake, I ask for the barest consideration of his honor, though I have the utmost faith you’ll do well by us, Lord Gramps.”