WYRDYSM GAMES

"Fine. Give me your phone numbers, and I'll contact you tonight. I can't be sure when we'll get our chance, but I'm sure you're willing to sacrifice a little if needed," Samekhel said with a glance at Pia, passing around a sheet of paper and his pen.

"It could be that we have a chance as early as tonight, so be ready. In the mean-time, I need to get back to school; my excuse for being absent won't hold the entire day," he said as he took back the paper and pen.

Nammu was shocked by this proposition. Stuttering, she asked "B-but Balthazar, I am Faustian, we want more mortals on earth, not less. Killing these mortals would be the thing a Ravener would do, unless these mortals are demonhunters, then I would be proud to save our brothers and sisters from them", while hating thee idea that she might have to kill a mortal, she was ready to see how Suzanna fared in combat, she did take swordfighting lessons after all.

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Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.

"Are you saying you'd never kill any mortal for any reason? What stupid, foolish talk." Balthazar said, snorting, "Humans are tools. We keep the useful ones. We groom and shape them as we desire. Some tools are dangerous or unwanted, however, and those we need to discard. You will do as I command, Nammu. My other servant has the names and details of these mortals that need to die. Do not fail me."

The clawed, hooded man stepped up to Suzanna, chuckling a little, "Remember, subtle. As subtle as you can manage, at least."

******

((The rest of you can go about your own business for now, 'cause right now there's nothing for NPCs to do with you. ))

_________________
Founder and Event Coordinator for the BSF Beauty Pageant. Founder of the Pseudo-Chainship Project. Admin. Games Master.
Quality Control Enforcer

Right, bad tools, of course, they would be useless for the overall plan, stupid mortal host, the compassion is twisting her. These 'mistakes' must die and WILL die. Replying to the sword she said "as you wish master".

Through her mind she had a plan going, she would use her kowledge of storms to create a mist around the mortals, then close in with a sharp weapon, going for the throaghts to cut of their screams, yes, the perfect plan. Before leaving, Nammu asked the question "master, are there any other weapons inside this house? My body can handle a sword and it will be able to kill them quickly and quitely."

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Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.

Pia stood up from her seat, brushing a lock of her hair out of her face with all the grace of an Italian chef swatting at a fly. She gave Danielle a quick nod in acknowledgement.

"Good luck with that", she said. "I think I'll need to take my leave as well. Need to settle a few things. Ask around about the lectures I missed this morning. I'll try to pick up when you call."

In truth, she also wanted to get prepped for the investigation. Preferably armed. Church wasn't the most dangerous of places, but it had been a while since Svarog had seen action. Naturally he wasn't planning to go out of his way to start a shitstorm, but it was best to bring an umbrella when the forecast amounted to "cloudy, with a chance of Earthbound".

"Rest of you, stay frosty", Pia grinned, tongue in her cheek.

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"Please consider the environment before printing out this email."

That's an example of a good signature file, not the thing you have now where you say you're white and your symbol is a sunburst and your enemies are blacks and reds.

Gabriel quickly scrawled his number onto the paper, before passing it back to Samekhel. He drew out his Sig Sauer and placed it on the table.

"Think we'll need this, Nisariel? If we do..." He took a quick glance at Pia, making hammering motions at the gun with his right hand. "I think I better prep a med kit just in case."

"Not much I can do from my end, though. I'm afraid all I can do is turn up when you call."

Adirael hated waiting. He hated being unable to get anything done. Just sitting there just didn't feel right when a psychopath was running around butchering people and ruining the good name of the Fallen. Whatever good name they had left, anyway. But that was all that he could do. Rushing in right now would cause nothing but a shitstorm.

"Sig Sauer, eh?" Pia rolled her eyes and sighed in mock exasperation. "If you want work done on that gun, you'll have to part with it for a bit. Shouldn't take more than a few hours, though. It's the least I can do."

Svarog, for one, felt that when push came to shove, the team would need all the armament they could carry. And therein there would lie plenty of opportunities for him to chase the glories of old.

_________________
"Please consider the environment before printing out this email."

That's an example of a good signature file, not the thing you have now where you say you're white and your symbol is a sunburst and your enemies are blacks and reds.

Gabriel picked the gun up, tapped the magazine release, then placed the ejection port close to the table before ejecting the round in the chamber onto the table and pocketing the magazine and bullet.

"Here. Treat her well, saved my host a few times in Afghanistan." He offers the pistol's grip to Pia. "Up til I got the body, of course..." He mutters.

Swiss and German engineering was top-class, but he was sure an Anunnaki could do even better. He would owe Svarog for this, but hopefully he wouldn't be paying it back soon.

He didn't have much money; the only way he was going to be able to pay Svarog back was to heal him from near-death, and Adirael hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

Nathaniel sat rather uninterested as the conversation drifted onto weapons. He took the piece of paper that Samekhel offered to him and slowly penned his mobile number, taking enough time to commit the other numbers to memory. Who knows, they might come in useful. While the others continued their talks, he pulled out his pda and composed a quick message to his secretary:
'Do with have any info on the church murders this morning? we'll need to draft a press release, just in case. i'll be in later; a couple of hours at most. thanks'

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There is no OP, there is only more boosters...

Nathaniel's secretary sent a message back stating that she'd have the police report for him once he got into work.

******

Nammu heard the voice of her Master again, "Take this blade. It is not my true shell, it is merely an extension of myself. Though it, I will be able to watch you and communicate with you. It is a potent blade. Treat it well, obey my commands, and it will serve you well."

_________________
Founder and Event Coordinator for the BSF Beauty Pageant. Founder of the Pseudo-Chainship Project. Admin. Games Master.
Quality Control Enforcer

Pia tilted her head momentarily as she regarded the weapon. "Right", she said. "I'll give it my best shot."

She shoved it into her sling bag with a adroit twirling motion, intending to exude some confidence. She probably exuded something else entirely, but the thought never crossed her mind. Either way, Svarog derived a good feel for the weapon's weight and balance in the process; crucial parameters for a Malefactor craftsman.

"If there's nothing else, I'll be going now", Pia said.

_________________
"Please consider the environment before printing out this email."

That's an example of a good signature file, not the thing you have now where you say you're white and your symbol is a sunburst and your enemies are blacks and reds.

With weapons being discussed, Danielle quickly excused herself, and left the theater.

Driving back to school, Samekhel turned the situation over in his thoughts. It's certainly nice to have formal permission to investigate, for whatever it's worth, but do I really want to have them get in my way while checking things out? They're a lot harder to explain, and I honestly doubt I need them, he thought while keeping an eye on traffic.

I could just neglect to inform them, and investigate alone the first time? No, there's no point in elaborate deceit when they haven't proven themselves incompetent or unreliable. They'll probably be much more useful to me than I am to them. I guess I'll see how much progress is made as a team player.

Pulling into a parking spot, Danielle pulled out her cellphone and started scrolling through her address book, before dialing. After being directed to voice-mail, Danielle put on a cheerful voice. "Detective McArthur? This is Danielle Blackwell, and I'm writing an article for the school paper on that horrible incident this morning at the church, and I was hoping you could help me out? I'd really appreciate a list of the victims and witnesses, in particular. If the police don't release the names to the public by the paper's publishing date, I promise I won't reference a single name on the list! Oh, and one other thing; I'd really like to look at the scene to help write the article, could you arrange a time soon where I could see it? And you don't even have to spare a police guard for it, I promise I'll be a good girl and bring a chaperon to keep me safe and out of trouble. I really appreciate the help!" Danielle then left her number at the end of the message requesting him to call when he can, then cuts the connection.

((I reserve this space to write a conversation between Danielle and Serena later, but I want to get the important half of the post up now.))

Danielle then worked out a text message to her best friend, Serena. While she was plenty aware Serena wouldn't get this immediately, the school rules being as strict as they were, time was not ultimately pressing.

'hang out w me l8r 2day? havnt shopd 2geder in a wile. -Dani'

Having sent the message, Danielle turned her phone off, got out of her car, straightened her uniform, and went to join class.

She lifted the blade, It was perfect, more like an extension of herself rather than a weapon, she did acouple of lunges to get used to the blade but it wasn't really necessary, this blade seemed made for her. Thanking her master for the sword, she opened her bag and put it in, after all, not many people walk round LA holding a sword.

Turning towards the twisted man she actually got to have a proper look at him and he was disgusting, like a tormented Araru, some stange pulsing muscle was connected to his cheek, half his face was skinned, there was an odd peice of flab hanging off his brow, and just looking at him made Nammu happy that she chose Suzanna as a mortal host. focuusing away from his face, she asked him for the list staring at his twisted hands.

_________________
Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.

Balthazar's twisted servant grinned at Suzanna, pulling back his hood. Somehow, her initial impressions had been mistaken. His face was certainly twisted, but not in such a mundane way as that. His bald head had thick, boned spikes protruding through the skin, in three ridges along his skull, his face was leathery and twisted, drawn into a grin far too large for a human face, revealing rows upon rows of shark-like teeth. He had no nose, just a flat bump with two nostrils, and his eyes were a sickly shade of yellow.

"I am Lord Balthazar's servant," He said, his voice gravelly and seeming to echo, as if he were speaking with two voices at once, "Call me Undra. If you need aid, contact me."

He gave her a PDA. On that PDA was a list of names and addresses.

At the top of the list was the name "Fiona Westridge", with an Address to an apartment building in Hollywood, and a picture attached, a dark-haired woman of perhaps thirty years age.

"I left my number on the PDA. Get to work, Nammu."

******

Danielle recieved a text message response from McArthur a few moments later, 'Always happy to help you, Danielle. I'll organise all that ASAP. btw, your dad is on the witness list. He's being kept in the hospital. Your mother tried calling apparently?'

_________________
Founder and Event Coordinator for the BSF Beauty Pageant. Founder of the Pseudo-Chainship Project. Admin. Games Master.
Quality Control Enforcer

Gabriel quietly made his way out of the theater and headed to the nearby subway station. It wasn't exactly the best mode of transport, but it was the easiest way to get back to the care center. It wasn't the best-decorated of places, and neither did it contain state-of-the-art medical facilities(It didn't matter for Gabriel, though. He always used his powers to "cheat".). The lumbering, inefficient bureaucracy didn't help with the lack of funding and resources, so the center had to cut back on most non-essential things, like actually making the place look good. The pay was also crap, which was one of the reasons why Gabriel had little-to-no resources to call on, but the job was stable and the staff there were flexible with work hours.

It also let Adirael help as many people as possible. Even though he was no longer a Guardian Angel, humanity was still his flock. He would continue to serve and protect them until the Morningstar returned.

He walked up to the reception booth.

"So, any new cases?"