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Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

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  • [3e IC] Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

    Arcadia, Louisiana - February 7th, 2009:

    ~Somewhere in a darkened room, lit only by candles.....

    A man clad in older, worn clothes sat back in his chair at his desk, considering the list of names before him. It had taken him a great deal of time and effort to assemble the list and would, with luck, prove to have been a worthwhile effort. Arcadia was about to become a very interesting place, more so than usual, and there seemed to be a noticeable lack of guardians to deal with those responsible thanks to the way they wanted to handle things. He pushed down the urge to spit as he thought about them then resumed looking over the list, it was almost time for him to begin gathering those who should be able to deal with the dangers that concerned him but he either lacked the time to deal with himself or else his hands were tied up by their rules.

    Setting the list aside minutes later, Balthazar Blake rose from his seat. It was going to be a busy couple of days for him, time he hoped would be well spent.


    ~Over the next few days.....

    Elspeth D’varte & Starke Wolfherz:

    Things have been fairly quiet lately with none of the usual oddities popping up and needing either of your personal attention, and while that
    bothers you both, the two of you have decided to make the most of the free time and have been straightening up ye ‘ole subway terminal.

    It’s really amazing what those dust bunnies do if you don’t get the lid on their jar screwed on tight enough and they mix with the goblin snot…..

    But amid the organizational efforts both of you just make out the sound of someone beating on the stone archway that leads to access tunnel from the
    city, and it’s followed by a man’s voice. “Hello. I wish to speak with Elspeth D’varte and Starke Wolfherz. Are either of them home?”


    Umbra:

    It’s a lovely and dark evening tonight you think to yourself as you make your way down the street, enjoying the feel of the shadows on your skin as
    well as watching how they fight the few remaining slivers of light for the right to color all the surfaces surrounding you in a never ending battle
    between like two siblings fighting for the same toy.

    Suddenly a man calls out to you from one of the few public benches that are all over the city. “Greetings Umbra, would you care to take a seat next to
    me and talk a few moments?” The tone is friendly, which is odd since normally others are bothered by the darkness that accompanies you but this
    man either is not bothered by it or does not notice it.


    The Immortal:

    The spare and small room that you currently call home might not have very many creature comforts but it puts a roof over your head and four sturdy
    walls around you that keep you out of the elements. You also like the fact that the proprietor of the establishment doesn’t ask you any questions
    about why you live on such odd hours compared to other people – it’s not too normal to leave home just before dusk and return shortly after dawn.

    His only question is if you are going to have the rent on time and weekly you answer with crisp, new bills. After that you don’t see or hear anything
    from him until that same time the following week. Unfortunately several of the other “residents” of this place you do see more of, often times their
    bodies lie strung out on one kind of drug or another or else in the company of women of loose morals and horrible clothing choices. Though like you,
    they value their privacy and never say anything on those rare times your eyes meets theirs. All of you understand that unwritten rule of this place
    – keep to yourself and I’ll do the same.

    So when the sounds of someone knocking suddenly come from your door, you are not surprisingly both curious and on guard.


    Galatea Frank:

    As you walk down the halls of Hospital at this late hour the only noticeable sound is that of your heels clicking on the title floor, which means that what little bit of a night shift that is working is busy elsewhere. This of course makes it much easier for you to find your way into the records room unnoticed and pick up the patient file you're wanting.

    In the records room you find a kind of cold comfort that reminds you of a library with the shelf next to shelf filing system the hospital uses and it is with a hint of regret you realize that modern technology will make places like this non-existent in the next few years as electronic storage is growing by leaps and bounds in popularity. Thankfully you already know the filing number for the patient’s charts and you pull them out and give them a quick once over – nodding your approval at the woman’s “miraculous recovery” thanks to the hand scribbled notes you’d added last month when you were here to test out one of your theories on how to treat her particular strain of cancer.

    “So the treatment is working as you expected?” A raspy man’s voice asks, breaking the silence and almost causing you to react in an aggressive
    manner but you easily regain control over yourself and turn to face the owner of the voice.

    He’s not someone you know, or even the relative of someone you once knew for that matter, as you’ve made a habit of keeping up on the lives of your former friends once you’d moved on, but he seems to know you somehow and that makes you slightly uneasy and you take stock of him trying to learn something about him based on his appearance.

    There is a presence to him – wearing rough and worn jeans topped with a dark grey button up shirt that’s been left hanging over top the jeans
    instead of being tucked in and doesn’t seem to have seen an iron in a long time. The overcoat he wears also has a very rugged and used appearance to it, almost like it is often times discarded without a care for where or how it lands before eventually being put back on. And while his hair is long,
    passing the man’s shoulder in length, it is in good condition but the 5 O’clock shadow of stubble that is growing into the well trimmed goatee that covers the lower half of his face could stand to be dealt with.

    Then there are his eyes – a deep and intense brown. There is a deep well of knowledge held behind them; the kind one gains only by experiencing life, a hard lived life. But despite that the man still has a friendly and warm smile that he apparently doesn't mind showing.

    "Hello, I'm sorry to have startled you. My name is Balthazar Blake."



    Jack Frost:

    The shack that you've been living in the last couple days isn't the most ideal place to live but you understand why your friend suggested you use it - nobody would EVER think to look for you in a swamp in Louisiana. Even in the end of winter this place was warm, just enough that most people would wear a coat (not you specifically, but others would) and you can tell that in the following weeks you'll begin to be a touch uncomfortable with the natural warmth this place is known for.

    At least the insects haven't come out yet.

    It's this train of thought that is interrupted by a rapping coming from your door, a firm and determined tapping that clearly announces you have a visitor. Something or someone you were not expecting here of all places and then there is a pause followed by the voice of a man you don't recognize. "Hello? I've come to only speak with you. I believe we can help one another if you'd like to spare me a few moments of your time."


    Haggle:

    Looking over the stash of amber colored crystals you smile to yourself. Business has been good lately, very good indeed as people here in Arcadia have been more willing to make deals lately. Of course given some of the things that have been working their own agendas here that doesn't really surprise you. As you divide up the crystals into two piles - your cut and the cut of the man who brought you here, you sense the presence of someone nearby.

    A smile forms on your lips as once again you can't help but enjoy the results using those cards have produced. Just approaching those who might take you up on your offer to "help" them better their life and giving them a glossy orange card that magically gives them a location to find you was just too good not to "borrow".

    Disappearing into a cloud of amber smoke only to reappear you find yourself face to face with someone you hadn't given a card to despite the fact the older man holding one of your cards in his hand. "Greetings Haggle." Balthazar Blake says with a knowing smile. "It's been a while hasn't it?"
    Last edited by Tattooedman; 10-23-2014, 07:23 AM.

  • #2
    Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

    Haggle
    HP: 1, Condition: Normal

    "Balthazar, Haggle responds with a grin, showing off a mouthful of pointed teeth. "What a pleasure to see you again. You've been so quiet lately. I was beginning to wonder if you had finally given up on the whole 'betterment of mankind' thing and settled down to live a quiet life of retirement. I wouldn't have blamed you if you did. These mortals can be such troublesome creatures to look after. However..." Haggle disappears in a puff of orange smoke to reappear on Balthazar's back looking over his right shoulder, "I see you have one of my cards and there is only one reason anyone comes to have one of my cards..." Haggle disappears again to reappear off to the left, casually leaning against a wall. ...you must want something. Haggle smiles greedily, excited at the prospect of a possible deal.

    Comment


    • #3
      Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

      Jack Frost
      HP: 1 Cond: Swamp Shack

      Jack stirred the cocoa in with the milk, mixing the powder of hot chocolate with some small shavings of chocolate into the drink, before stirring up the small gas light stove. Hot chocolate was a common drink up north, where the winters were cold and icy. Back where it felt more like home. Down here in the swamp, Jacob DeWinters wouldn't be noticed by anyone. And while it bugged him to no end (though the solitude was definitely welcome, he did like company on occasion), he understood the need to lay low. His last little bit of "harmless fun" had drawn a little too much attention, and there was a trio of trolls that apparently didn't have a sense of humor. Besides, how was he to have known that the trolls would object to him turning their little cave hidden under the Manhattan Bridge into a sculpture garden depicting caricatures of various fey individuals, as well as the release of their supply of food back to the normal world? The ice would melt after a while anyways, and trolls should know better than to eat children anyways. Not to mention what the Gruffs would say...

      Still, the place was beginning to feel a little more like home. The Staff of Winter had made some... improvements, shall we say, to the little domicile that kept in the cool, and made sure it didn't slip into the swamp any further. Just a bit of Winter magic, nothing anyone would notice this close to running water. A lot of nasty creatures weren't very comfortable around running water, and the few creatures Jack Frost had noticed in his short stay in Louisiana had been wise not to bother him. Or were so magnificently powerful that they considered the changeling beneath their notice. Surprising how useful the latter of those could be.

      Sipping on the hot cocoa, Jacob DeWinters glanced up as he noticed the knocking at the front door. Strange. He wasn't expecting anyone. Hadn't been expecting anyone in weeks. Those he had been expecting were more likely to smash the front door down and ignore the rules of hospitality. Hells, he was pretty sure that the threshold on the shack was falling apart at the seams, it wouldn't take much to barge in here. Not to say it was non-existent, but it wouldn't be much against any serious threat. Just slow them down a little. Like those three trolls...

      "Unless those are Girl Scout cookies, don't bother." Jacob answered the unknown man's voice, speaking through the door after having walked to it. He sipped the hot cocoa once more before glancing at the slender, gnarled staff with an arch at the end that was leaning against one of the corner walls. Jacob DeWinters (as he had settled into the identity of) was a dark brown haired man with dark eyes that glittered in the moonlight. He was of average height, a little lithe, and didn't seem in any way truly out of the ordinary. Well, except for the fact that he was rather good looking. Some might have said movie-star good looking, but Jacob paid that compliment little mind when he was only average compared to the beauty of many true fae.

      As an afterthought, Jacob added, "You can try the neighbors... just follow the path in the swamp to the main road, then head out that way for a while. Can't miss it."

      Comment


      • #4
        Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

        ELSPETH HP 1, condition dusty

        The girl smacked the last mobile dust bunny out of it's existence, cursing a little at the way the wellspring of magic in the subway terminal tended to react strangely to the surroundings. At least the dust bunnies were more annoying than dangerous. "We really need to hire a maid or a brownie. This is getting ridiculous." she told her room-mate as she swept the now inert dust into the trashcan with a wave of her hand.

        “Hello. I wish to speak with Elspeth D’varte and Starke Wolfherz. Are either of them home?”

        "Yeah, if you want penny love potions, go get some chocolate. I don't indulge in that juvi silliness!" she told the voice.

        Comment


        • #5
          Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

          Umbra

          Umbra delighted in this time of evening. It was shifting of the balance once more towards victory. The Darkness once more chasing away the Enemy and showing love towards the entire world. The shift from day to night brought changes to her as well, her consciousness spreading outwards even as her form began to disappear, merging into the shadows and becoming more than she was during the day. It was so very easy to feel alive, the flow of life breathing in and out of her like the play of the waters upon the coast. It was an opportunity to open herself to the more.

          She smiled sweetly as she gazed upon the lengthening shadows, her world slipping out and touching this one. The denizens of her plane greeting her as their representative upon this world. This was as it should be.

          The shimmering echoes splashed over the street, reflecting back the subtle noises of this world. The car rolling past, the heartbeat of the engine. There, the owls taking wing upon soft wings, searching to break their fast. That clicking song of the crickets, a record of the time upon this humid evening.

          And there, a voice, calling out by name. She does not recognize it and her attentions tune towards it. Male, that is for certain. A smoker? A heartbeat? Breathing? Even the accent catching her attention as she listens in. There are dangers out there but also the potential for friends. The people who had not yet heard the lesson of the Darkness distrust her, but it is the Truth, how can they not see it? How can they not know it already?

          She smiled, letting it spread across her lovely porcelain features. "Hello there? I can hear you but I don't recognize your voice?" Slowly she turns her face towards the stranger, her blessed sight hidden behind dark sunglasses, a comfort to those that have not yet heard.

          Comment


          • #6
            Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

            Galatea
            HP: 1 / Status: Fine

            "Balthazar? Zat is hardly a common name in this day and age." Her lilting Rhineland accent attracted attention most places outside Europe, but anything French-derived seemed to pass muster in Louisiana and it was nice not struggling to conceal it. "But then you are clearly no common man."

            She eyed the chart a few more minutes and made a few notes in her own notebook. With a name like Blathazar, he was either as immortal as she, or believed himself to be. Either way they could both afford to wait, while Mrs. Mullins might not.

            "It is not easy to sneak up on me." She'd grown one of the ears herself; the other came from a virtuoso in Cannes--organ donor, of course. "And common gentleman seeking medical consultation don't schedule their consultations for the witching hour. It seems safe to assume you are not here for my opinion as a doctor."

            Comment


            • #7
              Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

              Jack Frost:

              “So if I should happen to run into a small group of trolls should I tell them you’re not interested in anything they might be wanting to give you?”

              “An unhappy looking gaggle they were from the look of them, all them grumbling and complaining about making the trip in this weather and something. It is a touch chilly and all but not really too bad I thought. Maybe it’s just them.”

              “But if I were to come in and talk with you it’s highly likely I’d not see them any time soon. And if it helps to convince you to let me in, I can get some girl scout cookies since they do go well with hot chocolate.”

              Comment


              • #8
                Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

                Elspeth & Starke:

                “That’s good to know, but I’m not here for anything so trivial.” The man says. “I have a proposition for both you and Mr. Wolfherz. Is he here by chance? It’d be less wasteful of our time if he were.”

                Comment


                • #9
                  Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

                  Haggle:

                  "What a pleasure to see you again. You've been so quiet lately. I was beginning to wonder if you had finally given up on the whole 'betterment of mankind' thing and settled down to live a quiet life of retirement. I wouldn't have blamed you if you did. These mortals can be such troublesome creatures to look after."

                  Balthazar doesn’t react to your teleporting all about him; he just continues to smile while you talk. Nodding in agreement at certain parts but like usual giving away very little as to what was going on in his head. He simply shakes his head from side to side slightly. “No, retirement is something I’m a long way from just like giving up on mankind is the furthest thing on
                  my mind.”

                  "However..." Haggle disappears in a puff of orange smoke to reappear on Balthazar's back looking over his right shoulder, "I see you have one of my cards and there is only one reason anyone comes to have one of my cards..." Haggle disappears again to reappear off to the left, casually leaning against a wall. ...you must want something. Haggle smiles greedily, excited at the prospect of a possible deal.

                  “You’re right, I do want something but not one of your usual ‘deals’.” Balthazar says the last word while making air quotes, “I think we’ve known each other long enough to know that each of us are trustable enough, as long as the terms of any arrangement we work out between us are clear from the beginning.”

                  “That said I’m bringing together a few people to deal with an assortment of other people and things and I’d like you to be part of that group.” The whole time he is speaking, Balthazar's tone is light and friendly as he moves to take a seat on a long forgotten crate. "Now that said I know you need to barter for most of you dealings and I'd prefer we work this out now before going any further. So tell me Haggle what would be your terms for accepting my deal?"
                  Last edited by Tattooedman; 10-23-2014, 11:14 AM.

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

                    Umbra:

                    "That would be due to the fact that you and I have never met before, but I am hoping to change that. I am known as Balthazar Blake and I'd like to get to know you." He pats the space next to him, the sound of his hand hitting the wood easily reaching your ears. "Come, sit. Lets you and I talk some."

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

                      Galatea Frank:

                      "Balthazar? Zat is hardly a common name in this day and age." Her lilting Rhineland accent attracted attention most places outside Europe, but anything French-derived seemed to pass muster in Louisiana and it was nice not struggling to conceal it. "But then you are clearly no common man."

                      "Nor is Galatea all that common a name, but then again you are not a common woman either." Balthazar says.

                      She eyed the chart a few more minutes and made a few notes in her own notebook. With a name like Blathazar, he was either as immortal as she, or believed himself to be. Either way they could both afford to wait, while Mrs. Mullins might not.

                      "It is not easy to sneak up on me." She'd grown one of the ears herself; the other came from a virtuoso in Cannes--organ donor, of course. "And common gentleman seeking medical consultation don't schedule their consultations for the witching hour. It seems safe to assume you are not here for my opinion as a doctor."

                      "Again you are correct my dear. While I have sought you out for your knowledge it is not for your medical expertise, in fact it is your experience in things that are much more unknown by most people of this time and relate them to the stuff of legends."

                      "I know you've lived a long and interesting life, seen things and been to places that others wouldn't or couldn't understand. The kind of things that the others I am gathering to deal with could benefit from having the experience of someone like you among their number."

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

                        Jack Frost
                        HP: 1

                        Jacob DeWinters froze in place at the mention of the trolls. Almost literally. He was quite good at it actually. An uncanny stillness that was almost eerie. A lot of Winter Fae could do that, and made them quite fearsome. Well, unless you were also a Winter fae, in which case one was really used to the stillness. The cold and quiet. Solitude...

                        Jacob swung the door open a crack, the chain on the door drawing taut with a slight creak in the wood. Glancing outside, Jacob looked to see who was threatening to reveal his location to those trolls. Honestly, he had worked hard to find this little shack, and it had been difficult having to escape to someplace where it was usually warm. And those trolls would smash it up - and likely try to smash him for good measure. That didn't sound pleasant at all.

                        "Who are you supposed to be, then?" Jacob DeWinters asked, peering through the small opening at the man standing on the piecemeal planks that apparently served as a porch.

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

                          The Immortal
                          HP:1

                          The Immortal was lost in a meditative trance when the sound of crisp, sharp knocks at the door brought him back to reality. This was not the kind of "establishment" where such disturbances were common. Rising from the floor, the Immortal reached under the small, humble bed to retrieve his blade. The weapon was never far from his hand, but he had not lived so long by taking chances. His muscles still ached from the previous night's work. He had come to this particular corner of the swamp based on rumors of a small hive of the Red Court vampires. It had turned out to be little more than rumor, a few common blood-suckers masquerading with delusions of Dracula. It had been a pleasure to separate them from their heads.

                          Pressing a palm against the solid wood door, the Immortal called out in a voice heavy with irritation, "I left instructions not to be disturbed. I've given you your damn money for the month".
                          Eppur si muove

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                          Gauss - Twin Forks Defenders
                          Starstorm - Established Heroes Shape the Multiverse
                          Dragon Fist - Power Struggle

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                          • #14
                            Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

                            Jack Frost:

                            Through the cracked door you see an older man, late 30's to early 40's at most that is wearing rough and worn jeans topped with a dark grey button up shirt that’s been left hanging over top the jeans instead of being tucked in and doesn’t seem to have seen an iron in a long time. The overcoat he oddly wears also has a very rugged and used appearance to it, almost like it is often times discarded without a care for where or how it lands before eventually being put back on. And while his hair is long, passing the man’s shoulder in length, and his chin and upper lip is covered by a well trimmed goatee.

                            Then your eyes meet his – they are a deep and intense brown, showing that he's lived a kind of life that is difficult but survived. He smiles in an honest manner despite the veiled threat he'd spoken. "A possible ally and someone that could help you. I don't care to start things out this way but you're leaving me little other choice, but I spent a great deal of effort to locate you so I could make an offer that could be beneficial to both you and I."

                            Comment


                            • #15
                              Re: Mystic Troubleshooters: A Gathering of 7

                              The Immortal:

                              "Undoubtedly you have but I am not the owner/operator of this establishment. My name is Balthazar Blake and I would like to speak with you concerning your chosen line of work and the potential for you to do more on a larger scale."

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