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1. Throme

Excerpt from 101 Must-Visit Locations by the APA Travel Agency

Throme. The city of the future. There's no doubt that this is a tourist attraction that everyone must visit. Not only does it contain enough delights to entertain the whole family, but as the home of world-famous celebrities, including the famed fantasy writer Micah Faret, it is a must-see. While not the capitol of our nation, its mayor, Ms. Aline Cosette has become a major player on the world stage. Numerous observatories dot the newly-founded city, just ten years in age, as it lacks that ever-present layer of smog and pollution.

Important landmarks include the City Hall, popular shopping district Little Maybelle, classy Sagaro Mall, and of course, the Museum of Throme Art and History.

Due to its open-door policy, the City Hall is always full of spectators. Be sure to ask for one of the secretaries for a tour of the grand building, and you will not be disappointed. Not only might you catch a glimpse of the mayor herself dealing with the day-to-day issues that pop up to the city, but also visiting dignitaries. Do pay attention to the artwork on the walls - especially the one in the mayor's office. It is the late Tabytha Clarking's masterpiece, Oceans of Crystal, itself.

After dipping your feet in the luxurious but chic atmosphere of the City Hall, be sure to continue down 21st to check out Goatstone Bridge. It spans the blue Liron River. Do pay the toll collector - and don't be too scared of his face. This was the recent location of the recent reenaction of Romeo and Juliet's touching balcony scene. If you have an affinity towards water, boats can be taken on a short cruise around the area as the river is calm and soothing. Keep out an eye for the Golden Angelfish, native only to this area and quite rare indeed.

If shopping is your thing, Little Maybelle is one of the more crowded districts of the city. Once simply an avenue, it's since spread block after block into a whole district of its own. Here, the greatest fashions and styles line the street. Everything from the buildings to the vendors themselves is modern and chic. Should you have a hour to spare, Brio is not to be missed. Although not the cheapest café in the district, it offers anything you should desire and much more. It's the favorite haunt of model Noel Delari, so should you wish to go celebrity hunting, this is as good a place as any other.

Sagaro Mall provides a more classy alternative. As its goods are more expensive, the local citizens are prone to visiting it for other purposes. This multistoried building rises directly opposite the City Hall in a genius design that combines both tradition and innovation. The auditorium inside is the new venue for the upcoming musical, Dreams of a Lost Spring, costarring popstar Emma Matia and actor Damon Ito. It never lacks visitors, whether lured by the promise of ice skating, movies, the arcade, or its numerous rooftop family attractions.

Just down the block is the headquarters of the Throme News Station. The most reliable source for current events in Throme, it's since gained credibility throughout the world - with its ever-cheerful anchor Megan Mariot and the never-right weatherman, Kenneth Park. While the general public is not allowed to enter, note that many photo shoots take place here. If lucky, you may spot one of the more-interesting denizens of Throme arriving for a live interview.

Should learning interest you, the Museum of Throme Art and History (MTAH) is a must-see. The one major museum in Throme, it displays artwork, sculptures, and various historic replicas of the city's development. New exhibits open monthly, so there is always something interesting and new. All of its exhibitions revolve around Throme in general, so you can always learn something more about the beautiful city that you're visiting.

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Denizens of the internet, you will be pleased to hear that after 3.8 months, the March Hare has returned from his indefinite hiatus. In other words, he has discovered something rather... intriguing. Thus, this website is now open once more. As always, all comments and discussions are to remain anonymous and do be careful - any personal information that can be traced has been and will continue to be used against you. You have been warned.

And with that, the March Hare is at your service once again.

Views: 3,758

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Location:
Liron Pier, Warehouse 34

Description of the scene and crime:
The body, the third in a recent string of crimes, is mutilated in a similar manner to previous. Cuts not dissimilar from paper cuts litter the entire body, the victim probably bled to death slowly, while enough of the right muscles were cut to make moving agonising.

There is no evidence, on the body or in the wounds, that gives us a clue to who did it, and there are no actual footprint marks or other signs of anyone other than the victim having stood there any time recently.

The victim in question is an old sailor, Sr Blane Harker, who had entire charge of a block of the warehouses. This is in keeping with the recent murders of a store caretaker and a bank guard. All three of which guarded items of import. The actual items they guarded are untouched, oddly enough, and all three were murdered in uniquely horrible ways.

The murderer never leaves a sign of their passing.

Passing case to:
*Name scribbled out*

Good luck inspector.

Amara's offices were growing ever larger. She could barely believe this had all started a few years ago, and now the company was beginning to be respected. She had worked hard, brought dedicated people on board, and it was all paying off. The staff now consisted of around twenty-five people, and they were all working hard on their task, most of the time anyway. Writers, investigators, those who took the pictures used as evidence. News From Throme was a small company, but it was important, not just for the city of Throme to reveal just what was going on, deep below the surface, all the conspiracies that grew and maybe died out, but also for the Masked in their fight against Itex.

There was no question about it; Itex was guilty. They had killed her mother, and Amara was determined to get revenge. Knowledge was power and the first step in taking down such a huge corporation. They reached everywhere in the city, and all of the connections had to be revealed and unraveled, piece by piece until the whole structure crumbled to dust. It was risky as well; they had their own resources and could take care of things once they found out. If they found out. All Amara could do was stay behind the scenes long enough to gain the information needed to stop that fate. She had a lot of work ahead of her, but she wasn't alone. She had her Masked companions, and they would be meeting again tonight, to discuss something of importance.

Amara glanced out the window. It was still raining, and it likely wouldn't stop for a while yet. Sighing, she turned to pick up her jacket and addressed those still in the office. "I'm going out to get farther on another lead I've recently discovered. Hopefully this turns out more fruitful, and I can get another story to add to tomorrow's issue. In the meantime, finish with your editing and get these articles done before you head home. I'll finish up tonight and add the finishing touches. Rain or shine, we still have to get this paper out to the world if we're going to be some competition. Oh, Lara, did you get the pictures I asked you to? We'll need them by tomorrow, so get them if you haven't yet. And Kevin, your story still needs editing, unless Ivory took care of that. You all have things to do? Good. I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow."

Taking her umbrella from the stand near the door, she headed out into the wind and rain, off to Dullahan Library. Once she was a great enough distance from her offices, where no one could be seen, she muttered under her breath, "When you're not used to it," pausing to finger the mask and smile, "being happy is a lot of work." Her poise grew less stiff, more relaxed, and a grin spread across her face, new clothes replacing the ones she had been wearing, a bright white parasol replacing the umbrella she had previously been carrying. Karim had arrived. Now things could get interesting...

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Skipping along, Karim twirled her pretty parasol and recited in singsong, "Rain, rain, go away! Come again some other day! Cats and dogs raining down, pets abound for those around!" Grinning, she pulled a rose from her hat and held it in the rain, watching it unfurl. "Rain for the roses, roses are red. Red for the blood, blood from the dead. Dead are them, or soon they will be. Them and these, them versus we... Ahahaha! Roses are red, the sky is blue. Rain falling down, nothing to do." The parasol went away, rain not mattering, she pulled out a deck of cards, letting her feet continue carrying her where they would.



By now, she was near Dullahan Library, and the voice nagging from behind reminded her to head inside, down to the underground parking lot. Heading in, she pulled a card from the deck. "What will it be? Joker? Ahahaha! What a joke-reporting for duty!"

As the other students filed out of the lecture, the teacher shook her head at the slumped figure in the back. The nametag, Shannon Ba'rel typed across it in easily readable letters, was lying on the floor next to the desk. She'd seen the boy fiddling with it early on in the class, having taken it off his lapel. She would never understand this boy who could sleep during class and yet match all necessary grades with ease.

'Master Ba'rel, I'm afraid you can't sleep there anymore.' The prim and proper reminder came with just a hint of amusement. She'd done this so many times the two almost had a schedule at the end of each lecture. 'My, Mrs Weatherby, what a loud voice you have.' The still half-asleep voice almost slithered from between the arms, coming from the head whose lips had hardly moved, and whose eyes still stayed firmly shut.

'All the better to wake you up.' With a wry smile, she picked up the last booklet lying around, the one on Shannon's desk, and tapped him on the head with it. 'You can't sit in here, mister.' Languidly, Shannon shifted in a slow manner that was reminiscent of a snake sleepily uncoiling. With a yawned 'On it.' he stretched back, and then stood up. His bag was quickly slipped up and onto his shoulders as he almost staggered out.

Whirling his mind back into gear as he waved goodbye to probably his favourite teacher, he half boredly checked the time on his mobile phone, and immediately came to life. The meeting was just about now, was it? Shannon, too distracted by his phone and his dreams, didn't even notice the rain outside the lecture building until he'd stepped right into it. As he paused to look up once, he smirked at the sky. 'Well, hello there Mr Weather. Thanks for the wake-up, I needed it.' Having paid his respects to the rain, he walked, unworried by getting wet, towards his dorm-room.

It was a very short while later that, to the sounds of his dorm-mates telling him to change his clothes and try using an umbrella next time, he shut the door to his room and dropped his bag onto his bed. A weary sigh escaped his lips as he flicked the computer's powerswitch on, causing the surprisingly high-tech piece to flicker with bluey light. The reflected light danced over the young student's face as he flicked the screen on, sighing and sitting down in the seat.

The comfortable upholstery made him uncomfortable, but lazily he ignored the slight irritation, instead hovering his hand over his mouse as, with a few clicks, he brought up the program he'd received by email shortly after joining Itex. It was a specialised chat program which allowed bypass into one special chatroom, one he'd be using today. Typing in the first password, Shannon Methusela Ba'rel leaned back, staring at the second password a moment blankly.

'Come, dance with me.' The words were akin to loving caresses, each one more valuable than a teardrop. Each a diamond of its own. The mask in his hand, that had materialised, was held with an almost reverence as the sleepy man seemed to wake up. Slowly fitting it to his face, he drew in breath, once, and exhaled. And then, he spoke again. 'And leave the midnight skies ablaze.'

As the words left his lips, it was almost as if the mask sunk into a pool of water, his face accepting the adornment into its very body, as the hair flickered around it, lightening to a pale blond. The other parts changed in a slow and languid fashion akin to the former holder of the body. The Chariot looked at his own hand in something similar to contempt. Reaching forwards with one finger, and pecking out keys one by one, he activated the second password, and the chatroom came into view.

Fitting headset to head, the blond haired warrior flicked it on. 'Chariot, reporting for duty.' The crisp voice lit up into the silence. The nametag had been forgotten.

Cold. Miserable. Rain.

With a sigh, Aki Evedane, blue-eyed junior and cherry gobbler, laid his fine point pen to the side and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. He’d just managed to finish all of his homework, and a Chemistry worksheet rested on the mahogany table in front of him, covered in his immaculate handwriting. Getting ready to do some extra practice, he picked up the pen again, flipped it around his fingers, and read the question carefully. Before he could even finish the first calculation -

“Aki!” shouted his father from down the hall.

The boy pushed back his seat, before covering the meters to the door in a few long strides. “What is it?” he asked, poking his head out from behind the door.

What caught his eyes was something very normal - for his family that is. A tall, well-built Caucasian man ruffled an embarrassed hand through his sandy brown hair. “I can’t find my jacket - and I’ve got a class to teach in a few minutes. Do you mind going back down to the library and looking for it?” Seeing Aki’s impassive expression, he gave a nervous laugh. “Come on, you know how my brain is. Scattered everywhere. But please?”

His father had the best puppy-dog eyes in the entire world. There was no denying him anything.

“Fine, I’ll stop by the library. Next time remember that you should check that you have everything before leaving a room.” Aki’s face didn’t change at all, but he really wanted to hit his head against a wall. “Now get back to getting ready. Your 6 o’clock students are going to be here any moment now - and look at you! You’re still half-dressed!” It was times like this that Aki thought that he was the father, and his dad … er… something young and immature.

“Thanks! I love you, Aki!” thanked his father, before returning to something more important. And with that he retreated back into his room, before rummaging through the piles of sweatpants on the ground, making it look even more like a pigsty. “Don’t forget an umbrella! I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold!”

Yeah, sure.

Aki swung past the shoe cabinet, chose a dark-colored umbrella, and finally strode out of their cheery home. Fingering through the important objects in his pocket, he prepared himself to walk a kilometer or two -- again. It was remarkable that he had even finished his homework because his father managed to lose six objects throughout Throme in the time of one single twenty-four hour day.

What’d that be? One object every four hours. Yesterday, he forgot both hat and that spare pair of tennis shoes at the gym. And then, just a few minutes later, he left his umbrella at Brio. After going out to dinner with his friends, he spent twenty minutes looking for his car keys that had been in his pocket for the entire time. The next morning, he grabbed Aki’s bag, went on a sightseeing trip, and left the planner in the middle of Cherry Grove Park where it got promptly scribbled on by a toddler. And now this.

Aki’s long fingers found his MP3 player and with deft, calculated movements, lost himself inside his music. Since he was undergoing a long period of time when he was relatively uninjured, things such as viola practice had somehow become a must. His mother, worried that her son wouldn’t be skilled enough to perform with the school group during their concert, had forced upon him a private tutor and insisted that he listen to their boring, classical pieces as often as humanely possible. Cue gift of new MP3 player.

By the time that the second song had finally ended, he could see the brown dome of Dullahan Library just up ahead. And remembered that it would’ve closed an hour ago.

Great.

Hoping that some of the librarians would have stuck around to deal with a few other duties, he climbed up the stairs to try to peer inside the blackened building. And then realized that there were actually no windows - just mirrors. So all that he could see was a slightly discolored image of himself frowning at nothing in particular. Knocking on the door with a smooth movement, he waited as patiently as he could.

---

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"Yer not goin' ta 'cause me much trouble, are ya? I really don' feel like kickin' yer sorry ass. I've got shit to do, 'n yer kinda in my way." Haru leaned against the wall of a backstreet alleyway, feigning a yawn. "So why don't we jus' drop this whole shenanigans?"

"Why you little...! You think you're cute, don'tcha?" A group of guys surrounded him menacingly, one of them right in Haru's face. "You're just the fallen leader of a piece-of-shit club. We're members of the Silver Fangs! You'll regret comin' over to our turf..."

At this, Haru stopped his fake yawn, suddenly glaring intensely at the man who had spoken. Then, he got off the wall to get closer to the man's face. "You guys? Yer all part 'o the Silver Fangs or whatever?" He pointed past the guy, waving his finger around to indicate all of them. Then, he began to laugh. He laughed and laughed, until suddenly the man went to punch him in his gut. Without missing a beat, Haru knocked the man's arm away and delivered a punch of his own. He punched him so hard he went down like a sack of rocks.

"I'll get back ta that in jus' a sec. Now, what were ya sayin' 'bout my little club?" As he spoke, he rushed the other supposed gang members. One by one, he took them out, making quick work of them. "A piece 'o shit, ya say? No good, ya say? That ain't nice, you know...." He hissed as he beat them up mercilessly, breaking bones here and there. Soon enough, they were all sprawled on the ground, incapacitated. "Silver Fangs." He scoffed, "Don't make me laugh. If you guys were really part 'o that group, ya woulda known better than ta corner a former gang leader. Wannabe fuckfaces." He scoffed once more as he stepped over their bodies, making his way out of the alleyway.

As he entered the street, he looked at his watch, then looked up at the sky. Blast it. Now I don't have time to go to the bar on my way home, much less change out of these ridiculously wet clothes. He began to walk down the street, until something caught his eye.

It was a motorcycle, complete with a helmet, leaning next to the entrance of the alleyway. Curiosity instantly piked, Haru walked over to it. Well, well, well. Lookie what I found. Finder's keepers, losers weepers! He walked back into the alleyway, then exited once again, smirking wickedly as his jingled a set of keys in one hand. Then, he turned back to the motorcycle and got on it, putting the key into the ignition and turning it on as he did so. Finally, he took the helmet and put it on, strapping it tight. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered with it, but the rain would have made it hard to see.

Without any further ado, Haru took off. As always, he completely ignored the speed limit, and soon made it to his place in what seemed like no time at all. Currently he lived in an old, run-down, abandoned house in what looked like the middle of nowhere- he simply couldn't afford anything better at the moment. He sure as hell didn't like it, but he had only recently gotten out of jail so there wasn't much he could do about it.

"Home sweet home, eh? Ha." He muttered to himself as the bike came to a stop inside of the garage. The door to it was broken, so the garage was doomed to stay open forever. Haru didn't really care, although he made sure to park the bike in the darkest part of it so as not to tempt thieves. Not that there would really be too many out in such a place, but he didn't feel like taking chances with it. Once he was done, he left the bike and went inside the house.

The door in the garage led to the kitchen, which opened up to the living room and the bedrooms. The house itself was pretty empty, save for a cheap couch in the living room. It was a meager living at best. Haru knew he could have asked for a couple of favors among the former members of the Plague Riders, but he simply wasn't that type of person. He hated asking people for money, and it was something he would rather die than do.

He immediately made his way to his room. It was a very simple room- just a bed, a dresser, and a computer that a sat on a computer desk. Without even bothering to change his clothes, he sat down at the computer desk.

"Time to play my trump card...."

A mask appeared in Haru's hand. It was a bit small and a silver-blue in color. Gold highlighted where the eyes where, and intricate gold lining decorated the mask. It was a pretty thing, something Haru didn't much care for. He put the mask on.

"Information is power."

Haru felt the mask sink into him as if it were becoming part of him. His hair turned black with blue highlights, and his emerald green eyes turned to that of sapphire blue. An auxiliary wire formed at the base of his neck, a direct connection to his brain. His once constantly smirking expression turned blank- an expression completely devoid of emotion.

Hanged Man, the technological mask that specializes in the collection and usage of data. He opened his eyes, looking to the computer in front of him, and immediately got to work. It took him no time at all to bypass both the first and the second passwords, as he simply logged into the chatroom as he usually did. It was practically second nature for him to hack his way through; things like passwords and firewalls were little more than mere annoyances.

"Hanged Man, reporting for duty. Chatroom security has been updated. Standing by." His voice, although pleasant to hear, was flat and monotone.

Wasn't there always those last second fiddles you had to make, when going anywhere? Always. There was always the little hold ups that made you unable to be early. That, or fate was conspiring against him, as usual. James sighed as he looked himself in the mirror. He wanted to look professional, even though he knew it would go to waste when he transformed into Axilious.

Sighing once, and shaking his head, he grabbed the brush one last time and ran it as quickly as he could through his short hair, making sure not to leave a single knot before walking to his apartment's door. Nothing left for him to do but lock up, and hope to hell that he got something interesting to do as a Masked Task.

After all, he had one of the most special masks, even if he was the most average normally. Ugh. How he hated reminding himself of that. Shaking his head, he clicked the lock shut behind him, leaving his apartment darkened for the evening. If they were actually doing something tonight, he wouldn't be back for a while.

Checking his wrist-watch/communicator, he confirmed both that he'd be on time, and that there were no last minute changes of plan sent by Liesel. SHE was special. She didn't even have a mask. Frigging King too. The both of them were standouts without the masks, where he was only in there because he had the mask. He felt bitter just contemplating it. Everyone had luck but him.

Shrugging that back off, he made his way across the city, pausing here, waiting on traffic there, but the estimated time was just about the same. As he now stood metres away from the side entrance down into the underground carpark, he took refuge behind the conveniently placed greenery that was the start of the Library gardens.

'There's a man, deep within' The mask appeared. It was glorious. Unique. Brilliant. It was the side he wished he could fade into every day. 'Who feareth not the deadly sin.' As the mask touched his face, ecstasy crossed his features for a moment, before the plain brown hair flushed a brilliant blond, and the clothes shifted into the almost outlandish costume of Axilious.

'Ohho, mission me, mission my. Where else do we go to die? Hahaha.' Laughing to himself, he stepped, flourishingly, out of the cover, and strode confidently into the exit down to the underground carpark. 'There is no place like home.' Is all that the flamboyant Jack says upon entry, smirking around at the already arrived, before attempting to seek out the figure of Liesel, who was probably smoking somewhere around here.

Kaden walked into Sagaro, as always awestruck by the elegant beauty within. He had drawn a few pictures spurred from various parts of the mall: a cold, icy civilization from the Ice Rink, a map of stars from the observatory, the bustling crowd, grand clock, and floor-by-floor architecture viewed from above, and there was still so much more that he could draw from. Whenever he needed to relax or find inspiration, he walked somewhere, anywhere, and most of the time that place was here. Today, like every Friday, that Easter clown was here, selling his balloons. They had always seemed enticing for some strange reason (it wasn't like he was a kid, but for some reason they held an appeal that he couldn't explain), but he had never gotten around to asking about them. Why not? Now would be the day. He had some time before the scheduled meeting. It was worth a shot, and if it started to take too long, he'd just leave. Here goes nothing! "Excuse me, how much for a balloon? That black and silver one over there, to be exact?"

The clown turned at the question, glancing at the balloon and then glaring back at Kaden. "Balloons? How much are they worth? The price of happiness? The purchase of a balloon." He looked back at the black and silver balloon, the only one of that color in the shop. "Twenty argen for the silver-black pretty." With a hopeful expression at a sudden thought, Easter's eyes lit up, and he glanced through his stock before settling on a partially-deflated green balloon. "This one's 69 cents. You should buy that one instead. It's green. It would be good for you. It likes you more than the black-silver pretty." Glaring at Kaden once again, he gestured away from the black and silver balloon to the green one.

It was almost funny how worked up this clown was getting, enough for Kaden to actually want to buy that exorbitant price just to spite him. He brought out the money, "Here, may I have that delightful black and silver balloon?" He smirked at the clown's cross muttering as he took the money and went to take the balloon. He only could make out a few words, but they seemed to be repeated. "Pretty," "dead," "silver," "boss," "bad," "forever," and maybe a few more that Kaden just couldn't catch.

Kaden took the balloon and tied it securely to his wrist (It was pretty, wasn't it?) before going up the escalator to the second floor. The main attraction here: a movie theater. Well, eight to be exact. The good news was, people didn't care as much about other people in public movie theaters. It was dark, people always talked, and "kids these days" were always on their phones. He'd just be another one of "them." Now all that was left was to pick a theater, and it didn't matter which show was playing, just that he was safe within the theater from prying eyes. For which movie might they think he's just a cosplaying young man and pay him little regard? Well, they'd think him strange at the very least, but strange may be normal. It would be best to avoid using powers until they were essential. It would be simpler just to wear the mask, not transform into the meddlesome, ignorant Caine, but rules were rules, and you never messed with Itex. Whatever. If Caine caused any trouble, that was his problem, not Kaden's.

Skinwalkers. That sounded interesting and maybe cosplay-acceptable. Kaden had heard something about it, and it was from a post-apocalyptic world. He'd be able to get by, make something up as needed. Kaden walked up to the box office, bought a ticket at the student discount, digging through his pockets for 7 argen (he barely had that much with him after the balloon), and proceeded to theater 7. There were quite a few people here, more than expected, so it was apparently a new movie or maybe just a good one, who cares. Kaden walked up to the top of the theater, sitting in the back rows and whispered a few words. What they meant wasn't important, but what they did was.

"Ingredere rem ignotam." His mask appeared, and he slipped it on, another's voice whispering chaotically through his head, offering ideas or just random thoughts here and there. A jumbled painting and accompanying story had resulted from this, but enough of that. The final words. "Mens amens coepit."

---

It was dark. Who was he kidding? It was always dark, but that mattered little. Magic, sound, smell, whatever it was that gave Caine a highly-tuned perception of his surroundings eliminated that problem. It was some sort of "theater," as the counterpart called it, and the screen in front would display images (which he couldn't see), and the speakers around would project the sound (which would be distracting, to say the least). It wasn't the best place for a "chat," but who was he to tell the counterpart how to live his life. Just so long as that counterpart (Caden, he called himself? Something like that...) didn't mess up as monumentally as last time. He's just an idiot who has no idea what he's messing with, and yet he thinks it's in his best interests to pull an unwilling subject away from his daily life. Learn your place and stay there.

And there was something on his wrist, a string, held up in the air by... a thing, something he couldn't name or even describe. Was it simply air? Did this world have powers which his counterpart had neglected to inform him of? They would have to have a talk later. This device was intriguing, even if the purpose was concealed. Turning his minds to more important things, Caine brought out the "writing tablet" to take care of business, putting in the "headphones."

Fiddling with the device, a click may have been heard, passcodes scrawled, and the private chat began. "Caine here. Or... I suppose it's 'The Moon' you want. I'm he, me, go on whoever's here. What's new?"

-Brandon Clavell. His apartment-

"Those arrogant, self important, sanctimonious pieces of crap."

The lights of the apartment automatically snapped into life as Brandon Clavell strode through the front door, wrestling with the buttons of his rain sodden jacket. Straight into the living room, finally tearing the jacket free he tossed it aside, barely registering the stark, obviously expensive cleanliness of the room, all sheer white lines and aluminium. An expensive leather couch dead centre, top class laptop sitting on the glass and steel coffee table, massive plasma screen fitted directly into the windowed wall that took up the entire far side of the apartment and looked out over the city, it was like an art deco take on a temple, outfitted for modern life. Zen connectivity. It landed with a wet slap on the back of the couch, left a dirty smear as it slid down, came to rest in a crumpled heap amongst the cushions, leaking water.

He paid it no heed, caring little for the fact that it would probably mark the leather, or that his cleaner had obviously been here earlier today. That was what he paid her for, after all, and another couch could always be bought.

Stalking into the kitchen, he wrenched open a cupboard, still muttering under his breath. "Department harbours cause for concern, oh, of course." Snatching a glass from the row of pristine, identical glasses inside, slamming it on the counter hard enough to leave it ringing, he span, all flailing limbs, wrenched open another cupboard, twisted the top from a randomly snatched bottle of alcohol, half filled the glass with what turned out to be Talisker 57 whisky, downed it in one. "Certain practices may be out of line with company policy. Yeah."

Glass refilled, bottle left open on the countertop, he marched back into the living room, slammed the glass down, flipped the laptop open. It's not like anything he'd been doing was illegal. Not like other departments hadnt done the same thing in slower times. No, far as he knew, the entire damn industry was a grey area, and his boss hadnt been quite so contemptuous when profits had been higher. Oh no. As long as the money was flowing, everything was fine. Now the economy was screwed, morals apparently mattered again.

He took a deep breath, leant back, looked up at the ceiling as the laptop whirred through its boot process. It didnt matter now, anyway. No. What mattered now was the message from Itex. Those few words meant something was happening. The laptop beeped once as he ran his fingertip across the inbuilt scanner and fired up the secure chat program then rose, pacing back and forth whilst it sought connection.

"Come on, what's taking so long." His fingers drummed a staccato rhythm on the arm of the couch until, finally, the login window swam into view, and for a second the only sound was the rattle of the keyboard, the smack of the enter key loud enough to send the glass sat halfway across the table ringing. Standing, letting out a held breath, Brandon ran both hands up his face, back and through his hair, paused before speaking the words of calling.

"Control is everything." Fingertips shivered as the mask materialised, gold and white, expressionless. He raised it to his face, spoke the second set of words as if singing a hymn. "And all I witness, I own." and bucked, snapped backwards, hit by a sudden and singular shock, a blast of wind that affected only him, vanished quick enough that a witness would have questioned it had even happened.

The man who stood where Brandon had been a second before stood in complete silence for a moment, dispassionately regarding the room around him, lingering on the whisky for a second. He blinked, picked it up, took a small sip, smiling gently as the smoky taste blossomed across his tongue, and only then turned his attention to the laptop, the screen blankly stating he had less than one hundred seconds to input the second password.

Sinking into the couch, pushing the abandoned jacket aside with a flicker of distaste, he leant forward, tapped the keys with steady, even precision, then simply sat back and waited for a connection. With earbud in place he took another sip from the glass, thumbed the mic, then spoke with a voice low and melodious, but full of self assurance.

"This is Strength. What needs to be done."

Sometimes, Cecil worried the weather would grow so dark it would blot out memories of Tania and the iced teas they spent drinking on hot summer afternoons. He worried for his plants, for his disowned sister’s glimmering smile, and for his own father’s safety. But that’s all he ever did – worry. He never actually went out and did something about it, and for that, he couldn’t forgive himself.

Cecil stared at his own hands, and peered outside the custom bulletproof windows of the Mercedes. The only sunshine these days ever brought were nothing but isolated rays bleeding through grim clouds. Sad, really.

The car slowed to a stop in front of a gardening store. Cecil preferred to walk around Throme most days, but given how temperamental the weather had gotten, he’d chosen to take the car. Besides, walks weren’t the same without Tatiana by his side. The chauffeur stepped out of the car, opened the umbrella, and – thump - the car door opened.

Rain spattered on Cecil’s crisp white button-up. What was that Tania used to tell him? That he was too pretty to ever really be strong? She was right, as always, but… Well, he was going to have to try, wasn’t he? Cecil drew a deep breath, closed his eyes and counted to three, puffed his chest out and –


Cecil Vogel stepped out of the car, self-assured and calm, with long strides that betrayed no fear. Slung over his arm was a black suit jacket, and by his side was a chauffeur struggling to keep his boss safe from the persistent rain.

“CLOSED”

Aw man. Cecil maintained an unperturbed expression. Now, where was he supposed to get some fertilizer? Honestly, Cecil knew stores would be closing around the time he left home, but how was he to know how tough the traffic would get? Scratch that. He knew. He just didn’t want to admit that maybe he’d taken too long to study for his exam next week.

The blond scoffed and returned to the car, leaving the chauffeur scrabbling behind him. He ducked into the safe confines of the car and leaned back into the leather seat with an unhappy sigh.

Er. What now? Oh, right. He ought to give the driver instructions. Cecil crossed his legs and looked out the window, waiting for the driver. The poor man was dripping wet by the time he entered the car again, and Cecil almost handed the driver his jacket before stopping himself. First of all, Father would disapprove if he ever caught wind, which he would, eventually. Father always heard when Cecil did something wrong. Secondly, the driver would probably be too afraid to take it anyway. Reinhart Vogel had instilled a strict sense of fear in his employees, constantly reminding them of their supposed inferiority.

What was that? Oh yeah. ‘It is better to be feared and loved than just loved.’ Or something like that. Cecil didn’t know, didn’t remember. He wasn’t very good with memorizing stuff. Besides, he had more important things to attend to – like how to spend the remaining hour and fifteen minutes he’d allotted for his break. After this, he’d have to go right back to studying before rushing to a dinner party being held by one of his father’s senior partners in the firm. Ack. He winced at the thought of his busy night. He’d deal with that later – his schedule was flawless, anyway. For now, he just needed some place nice and cozy, some place that felt like home, but didn’t have his father or older sisters stomping about.

Maybe Eden was still open.

“Let’s drop by Eden,” Cecil said.

The driver glanced at Atty. Vogel's only son through the rear view mirror, opened his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it.

The car drove on in silence.

When they finally arrived at Eden, it was a little past six. Closed as well, Cecil thought. Still, he thought he saw someone moving behind all the flowers arranged by the window, and decided it would be worth getting out and taking a look. He was a regular at Eden – surely Ms. Rozenmare would take that into consideration?

Hopefully.

Cecil bit his lip as the driver ran out into the rain and opened an umbrella for Cecil again. He had to stop with all these hopefullies. Father wouldn’t approve. Hope was for the weak. The strong knew the facts. There was no room for hope – just would or would not.

The car door opened again. This time, Cecil slipped into his suit jacket, buttoned it, and smoothed imagined creases away before stepped out of the car. Through sheets of rain pouring down over the umbrella, a stunning young man stood at Eden’s door.

He supposed the door wouldn’t be locked yet, if Ms. Rozenmare was still inside. Common courtesy wouldn’t hurt, though. He knocked at the door and patiently waited for the woman inside to take notice of him.

Her flowers were beautiful, as usual. He wondered if he could perhaps ask her where he could get peonies for his garden. He especially wanted blood red ones; they were so striking – or some orange Japanese lantern flowers. Those were equally beautiful. Cecil contained his excitement with a small cough and, after waiting a minute or so, peered through the window to see if Ms. Rozenmare had noticed someone at the door. If she didn’t, he’d have to knock again.

A few seconds later, he averted his sapphire blue eyes. Staring at his own reflection seemed to be unproductive, even when he was in such a bored state. Plus, since his entire figure was tinged copper and his appearance was impeccable like always, there really wasn’t anything to look at. Well, while he was still here at the library, there were only a few things that he could actually do.

One. Go home, explain the current unfortunate circumstances to his father, dig one of the spare jackets up from the closets, and well, tell him to come back tomorrow and look for it himself. That’d be fine - except his father wasn’t the type to do any work that he could escape from.

Two. Try to find a way in. Maybe there was a few unlocked windows somewhere - no, that strayed too far from disobeying the law, and he already had enough cops on his tail. Didn’t need a couple hundred tailing him, itching to finally get the ‘highschooler with the bandages’ for breaking and entering? So what did that leave him with -

His train of thought was broken off when he caught sight of a young male, with an umbrella, walking down the street. With his brown hair and very boring appearance, Aki would usually have never noticed him. Other than the fact that he was traveling in the middle of Throme’s less busy districts, really - he had to emphasize the point that this person was probably the most boring person in the entire city. But why would anyone be here on a Friday afternoon? Well, obviously, Aki himself was an exception to that rule, but there really wasn’t anything to do in Throme around these parts anyways. Other than visit the unfortunately closed library, of course.

His interest piqued, he stared at the guy until he disappeared and turned the corner. Aki breathed out once, trying to persuade himself that whatever the guy was doing - it wasn’t going to be interesting. He failed, of course, and found himself quickly climbing down the stairs, before following Guy stealthily. Just in time to see him hide behind a bush as though he was trying not to be seen.

Now that was interesting. No matter how Aki ever tried to rationalize it, there could be nothing normal about a guy who was trying to escape notice. Guy was doing something hidden there, and even as Aki tried to get closer without being too noticeable, Guy stepped out from his cover. “Ohho, mission me, mission my. Where else do we go to die? Hahaha.” Except for the fact that he wasn’t the same Guy. This Guy, with his eyeshattering blond hair, and flamboyant clothing, looked nothing like the mousy brown-haired one from before. He didn’t act the same either, walking down the side path as though he was the king of the world.

There was only one thing that could explain this. A simple, magical explanation. A mask. Either that or the ability to unfurl his skin and exchange it for another appearance.

Aki sighed, before he backed away from the dogging of Guy’s steps. While normally he wouldn’t have gone through such a hassle - really, Fortune was as bad as they came - but it was the one tool that he had at his disposal to get to the bottom of the mess. He knew enough to know that whoever these people were, they wouldn’t take kindly to an eavesdropper, and he’d probably have to do away with his relatively uninjured state.

Stepping to the side of the street, he chose one of the larger pruned trees from the library gardens and hunched behind it. Checking to be sure that the coast was clear, he held one hand in front of him. “When you’re bored,” he watched as the mask faded into his hand, its silver metal eyeholes staring into his. Flipping it over, he placed it firmly on his face, feeling a familiar chill down his spine, before he finally enunciated that stupid-sounding phrase. “Gamble on my luck.”




Black hair turned sandy, blue eyes transformed into a gleaming gold, and a white scarf twisted its way over messy clothing. The Wheel of Fortune was in the house, and it was time for some fun! Looking around, he exaggeratedly contemplated his surroundings. Really? A stubby little tree? Bouncing up on the balls of his feet, he poked his head over the poor-looking plant, and saw something interesting.

A manboy with pfft clothing.

Maybe he thought that he was good enough to attract the attention of the Wheel of Fortune himself. He could barely stop himself from sticking out his tongue and blowing Pfftboy a raspberry, but some thought stopped him. Perhaps it would be more fun to just follow him for a bit, watch the show for a few hours, and then pop up out of nowhere. Well, Mr.Pfft was certainly having the time of his life walking down that street. Maybe he got the thrills from being watched. From the way he dressed, that certainly was a possibility.

There was nothing that he liked more than an actor that could put on a show. “You’re boring me… see you later then!” he finally whispered in an uncharacteristically muted voice. His form turned into a streak of black, and before long, he found himself joined into Pfftboy’s shadow. Almost like Siamese twins but without the twinness. The manboy went straight into the garage, as the Wheel of Fortune bounded on his feet and made strange faces at his back.

Liesel Moringmer | Dullahan Library Underground Car Park

How long had she been waiting? An hour? Maybe two?

How many clicks had it been?

Well, then again, she was the one who came early.

One wouldn’t have thought the woman anxious if it weren’t for the lighter in her tight grip. Even now, the click, click, clicking of the empty lighter persisted, growing more frantic with each passing second. With her free hand, she braced herself against one of the columns in the lot. ‘Get a hold of yourself, Moringmer,’ the she told herself, but the crease wouldn’t leave her brow. Her lips were still pulled in that terribly agitated scowl. Damn it. She heaved a sigh tired sigh, letting her unlit cigarette fall to the ground – she was far too worked up over this, over one measly change. She had thought that he couldn’t surprise her anymore… and then he went and pulled this stunt.

“Just what the hell’re you thinking this time, Torrings?” she murmured. One would think that she’d be used to the man’s antics by now… ha. She’d like to see anyone who could read Arthur Torrings. After all, she’d known him for all of four years and she still didn’t have a clue. Just when she thought she had him all sorted, was finally dancing to his tune, he always went and changed up the rhythm and tripped her up. That man had a real knack for making her want to throttle him. Her gaze idly followed one of the last cars leaving the car park. About time. The library had been closed for quite some time now.

click, click, click

With another agitated sigh, she pulled up her left sleeve, glancing at the customized com-unit at her wrist.

Outbox: 12
Inbox: 0

click, click, click

“Fuck you too, Arthur,” she muttered, eyes narrowing just ever so slightly. Damn it. Why wouldn’t he answer? It was always like this with him – he says what he wants then just disappears for another week or two or if, she was lucky, even a month. He was never there when she needed him… well, no. That was obviously just a frustrated lie. He was always there at the right moments… but never anytime else. Like right now. His little present for a certain someone was weighing rather heavily on her mind (and lightly in the pocket of her coat). She was always the messenger, wasn’t she?...

The woman was snapped out of her thoughts and to attention at a sudden footstep. Hm? "What will it be? Joker? Ahahaha! What a joke-reporting for duty!" Ah, it was her. The first of the lot, finally. The lighter was tucked away into her pocket.

“Took y’long enough, eh, Karim?” Liesel called, an irritated smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Where’s the rest of the deck?” As soon as the question left her mouth, the second arrival showed himself. And then there were two… there were only two. And here Liesel had thought that she was being a kind and considerate person by setting the meeting this far into the day, but hey, what did she know? This obviously wasn’t a good time, despite everyone agreeing to it, or whatever happened to suddenly pop up in their schedules was more important than the fate of the city itself. Obviously, otherwise everyone would have been on time like she had told them to over and over.

She gave the missing members ten seconds benefit before her patience snapped. “Damn it, is it just you two?!” Her voice echoed in the car park, making it seem even louder than it was. A glance at her wrist told her the time: too late. She couldn’t wait much longer. “Leave it to you idiots to throw a wrench into plans first thing. Damn it.” She had planned to send three to one location and two to the other, but that wasn’t going to work right now. Sinking deeper into her thoughts, the woman began to pace, eyes shut in concentration. “Damn it! And you,” she said, pointing blindly at the Jack, “you’re not even complete yet. I can’t send you off alone, can I? Don’t answer that, I know I can’t.” Not unless she wanted more blood on her hands.

She could… no… or maybe… … all of a sudden, Liesel stopped, just heaving a sigh.

“Okay, you know what? We don’t have time for this,” she said flatly. She looked up, eyes narrowed, and gave both the Joker and the Jack a firm look. “Bottom line, Itex is acting up – getting more active – and we’ve got word on certain hotspots.” She glanced at her wrist once more. “There’s no time for questions – we don’t know when they’ll hit,” she continued, “so for now I want you two to head on over to Lil’ Maybelle. Not the main district, but that shady little area behind that… that spot apart from the popular bit, behind that rental shop or whatever.” They’d know where she meant. Probably. And if not, they should be used to her directions by now, so not her problem.

“Your job is to intercept whatever Itex plans to do there. If y’need specifics or got any questions, you got the units,” she lifted her wrist, “that I passed out. Just shoot me a message on the go.” Well, with that, she was done. The red-haired woman simply folded her arms and leaned against one of the supporting pillars… oh no, wait. “And you know the drill – keep away from civilians. You aren’t superheroes. You aren’t vigilantes. You have a mission, so focus on that. And Ax, you in particular, be careful – believe it or not, you have a bigger disadvantage than you realize with that mask of yours.”

And now she was done… and while they were on their way, she would be spending God-knows-how-long waiting on the rest of them.

To all in the chat, a sixth voice finally spoke, though it almost seemed as if it had been there the whole time. "I see that the Tower has deigned to grace us with his presence," the voice chimed, as though congratulating the absentee on his arrival. "But it seems we've no more time to waste."

The flippant tone of the voice suddenly vanished, replaced instead by a colder tone – one which demanded obedience. "Chariot." the voice rang, before being replaced by more chipper tones. "You are in charge of the first group of three – though you'll only have two." It was almost as if he found the Tower's absence, and the subsequent hole it made in the first team, humorous.

"Strength. You're going with him." The order was delivered in the almost carefree manner it had started talking. "Both of you will be headed to Orion Street, in the backstreets, where you'll pick up a package. Chariot shall keep the package tonight, and tomorrow he will receive directions to where it will be delivered."

Not even waiting for acknowledgement from the two ordered, the voice changed targets. "Hanged Man." the chiming voice fleetingly paused on the name, "you will be leading the second group." The voice sounded like a verbal pat on the back – as if this were a gargantuan task finally completed. "Hermit. Moon. You're going with him." No accolades for them, though, just a fleeting pass over as if they weren't worth the effort.

"You three are heading to Liron Pier, where you'll meet a contact. They will recognise you, so you needn't worry about finding them." A little tiredly, the voice paused and thought for a moment, "And be careful..." the trailing sounded drawn, as if to hold the implication he cared for the Lower Itex for a moment, "of the packages. There will be quite a few angered if contents are either lost or broken." the chimed words were almost cruelly said, but before a reply could be given, the voice spoke one last time.

"That is all. Be about your tasks. And do not attract the attention of anyone while doing your tasks." There was no false warmth or happiness in this statement, blank and hard as it was. The second he finished speaking, the signal on the screen showed all present that he'd signed out.

Strength cocked one eyebrow, the only indication of emotion on his face as Judgement logged out, just as swiftly as he'd logged in. Though the face was stolid and calm, the mind behind whirled, processing the information, or lack of, that had been given, working plans, tactics, eventualities.

"Chariot, this is Strength." Despite the familiarity in tone, Chariot was as unknown to him as the place they would be sent tonight. As were most of the names he'd heard spoken. Idly, he wondered if Brandon had set something up to automatically record the conversation, as he nearly always did with important communiques, whether it was from work or otherwise. All the better to dissect and disseminate for information, for blackmail material. Amazing the things people let slip sometimes, and just as amazing how little people actually picked up in general conversation. Hence the repeated listenings.

Whilst Orion street wasnt somewhere he'd visited before, it was close by, maybe twenty minutes brisk walk, half a dozen subway stops. Thumbing the mic again, he snapped up a browser based map site, flicked it to the area they were headed. "I can be at Orion street in thirty minutes." he said, taking a deep breath and committing the labrynthine streets around their target to memory. "I'll be on the eastwards approach, just outside the.." A slight pause, one blink to recall. "Coffee shop on the corner. Meet me there."

Whilst Judgement had ostensibly put the Chariot in charge, simple things such as meeting points mattered little. Besides, whilst he wouldnt share the opinion, judging from the twisting sing song lilt of Judgement's voice, alternately harsh and lyrical, and the sheer amazing lack of actual hard information he'd given them, their boss wasnt the most professional of gentlemen. To not even be told what the package was or where or who they would be expected to retrieve it from left him cold. Still, that was none of his concern. This was the objective. It would be completed.

Without another word, he signed off, shutting down the laptop and placing the earpiece and microphone carefully on top of it. For one long moment he simply sat there staring into the black screen, as if the distorted reflection of himself held all the answers, then snapped to attention and strode into the master bedroom.

Two minutes later and he was at the door, leather bomber jacket on over the same shirt and trousers Brandon had come home in. Taking a moment to check pockets, make sure he wasnt carrying any identifying items, Strength clicked off the light and left the apartment.

"Hermit. Moon. You're going with him. You three are heading to Liron Pier, where you'll meet a contact. They will recognise you, so you needn't worry about finding them." There was more as well, but this was the main portion. His destination. The orders ended, and a click informed him of Judgement signing off. This was a strange form of communication; meeting in person was so much easier, especially if they'd meet eventually anyway. This was too much of a hassle, going from place to place. But Caine always seemed to be cleaning up after Kaden, and his own world was no different. "This is Moon, headed to the destination. I'll see you there," and he was signed off, just like that.

Just in time, the "movie," it was called, was just starting, and overview music was playing. It was probably showing flashes between different scenes which illustrated the points. Over it all was a male voice, theatric, with some echo effects thrown in as well. "In a world that's ended, the remnants of human life struggle to survive... Genetic mutations cause human-animal hybrids, some dangerous and feral. The others... are outcast and have one refuge of their own. There, a battle ensues regarding those humans who cast them out, ...who exiled them. Here... is the story of the Skinwalkers, Changers, and the humans they hate and love... The story... of a cat. ...ehehehehehe..." The voice changed, becoming more childlike and energetic. "See General Man over there? He's freaking out with his posse over there over a little speech. The town needs order, he gives it, but they still need these 'speeches' for 'morale' or some such boring little thing... and boring things they are! He can't even make a speech! Even I could do better! And I'm a cat! Look, over there, that's me, no a little over... there! Yeah, lookout, smookout, there were supposedly 'Rebels' around, but they weren't making a move. It was boring, can you blame me? Here, listen, it's a speech! Anyone could do better! See for yourself..."



Ah, he had gotten drawn in, wasting time. And there wasn't any to waste, was there. Without waiting for more, Caine rushed from the aisle where he had paused in irritation and confusion at the voice and headed out the door. He headed through the rest of the mall mostly unnoticed. He had some sort of knack where people would just let him be. However, near the entrance someone said something strange... "The black-silver pretty! Who?" But it was of little consequence, and Caine was out the door and headed through the city, digging through his contact's head for a map of where he'd be going. It needed to be close to exact, or he might make a mistake. Luckily, Kaden never seemed to fail him there, as he visualized everything when he drew it out on paper. Everything was laid out in his mind, and there was a bridge to cross along the way. Why would he start off on the wrong side of the bridge? The idiot...

Grumbling, he walked along, drawing murmurs from his strange eyes. Sure, they'd forget about him soon after, but the less people took notice of him, the better. He remembered something Kaden had told him, about blind people using canes and to use one where possible. Sitting down against a building on the sidewalk, Caine pulled out his sketchpad, sketched what he needed, and muttered a few words before drawing the cane from the sketch. He staggered for a short instant, drawing a deep breath before continuing onward. Magic had a cost, it always did, but the cost was more here. He'd have to take more care than usual, or his life could be at risk. It was just his luck to be pulled into a world of stagnant magic. If only they knew what it could do, there'd be no need for this... "technology" thing. Sure, it was handy, but was it worth it? No technology could have saved her, no medicine. Only magic could, and he hadn't known... No, this wasn't the time. He was on the bridge, and the cane caught on a statue. He pushed his way around it and walked past with little hindrance. Someone may have offered a hand that was simply shrugged away. It was of little importance.

Finally there, he heard the water, felt the change of texture under his feet at the wooden pier, smelt the fish that must populate the water. But no one was there yet, so he sat down, his feet hanging over the edge of the pier. The suspended pocket of air hovered above him, still held in place by its string, a curiosity Kaden had left him but of which he knew nothing. Well, others would know, no doubt. The sketchpad came out again, and he drew a face, a girl's, one of the few that mattered, one of the few he remembered. One which had fled from his hand many times but never his mind. He drew her face and waited, a mask of indifference on his own face, and a wary ear out for anything approaching.

Ohho, and so, the backstage players were late! A smirk replaced the casual benevolent expression, as Liesel outlined her belief that he wouldn't do his job! Well, well, the script was drawn, and the audience in their positions. The play was ready to begin, surely?

'Of course, of course, I'll try to be careful, and not alert the presence of the baleful. But seriously, mademoiselle, your doubt in my abilities wounds me.' Feigning, quite obviously, and injured look, the flamboyant man suddenly spun around towards the other Masked there.

'Very well, Ms do tell, shall we be on our way?' And before there could humanely be a reply, it seemed he already assumed a yes. 'Alright, alright, the stars alight. We've but things to do tonight! A play awaits, the play dictates. We've a job to do, after all!'

Prancing along, almost bouncing every step of the way, Axilious vanished from the car park, continuing to walk as if the world was watching him from every angle. Of course, there was not a single soul around the library car park entrance at this time of night, but that didn't matter. Head tall, eyes forwards,each step a measured, controlled pace with just enough saunter to make it look sauve.

Cedric Valsche- Location Unknown

"Oh, Cedric..."

"Not yet, my queen, for the night is still young."

"Oh, Cedric!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Some time later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cedric put on the last of his clothing as he shut the door to his current mistress's apartment, a rather expensive trenchcoat that disguised his body features. He walked down the hallway, carrying a small duffel bag. His hair was slightly untidy, the only indication that he'd been having a most interesting night- he had brought an entire new change of clothing to help disguise his activities, not to mention hiding behind a pair of shades and a wide-brimmed hat just in case.

Oh! What time is it? Stopping for a moment, he checked his watch. Oh dear, it would seem that I'm terribly late for my meeting.... He picked up the pace as he headed out to where his personal chauffeur was waiting. Quickly getting into the car, he gave him directions and sat back for the ride.

Dullahan Library Underground Car Park

"Sir, we have arrived."

Without another word, Cedric left the comfort of his rather expensive-looking car and stepped out into the parking lot. He wore a mask, a pure white one to match his pure white suit.

"Have no fear, we can start now, for I have arrived! I do hope you'll all forgive me for my lateness, as I was attending to rather......delicate matters."

The voices washed over the Chariot. The greetings, the orders, and lastly, his teammate being decisive. He smiled. He didn't mind, he preferred allies that could think for themselves. In fact, this one would do splendidly with their initiative, their lack of patience, even, for others to decide the course of action.

'I will be there. Welcome to the Lower Task Force, Strength.' The greeting wasn't even in the script. Hell, the group wasn't even named the 'Lower Task Force', but that didn't matter to Chariot. He was already bored of orders, and wanted action. Flicking the connection off, the computer down, Chariot stood up, recalling the immediate area from Shannon's memory. Dorm room. Wouldn't be good to come out of Shannon's room at all. After all, no grabbing attention, he said.

Grinning, Chariot opened the window, glancing around. The few students out and about had no focus on the window or the dorm, and would hardly notice one man. Besides that, this wasn't even anything but the small rest area, or outdoors study area. Or whatever people called it. Chariot lost all interest in it beyond -- 'Huuuup' -- dropping down into it. It was still raining, of course, but it hardly even bothered the Chariot. It pleased him, if anything.

Cold, chilly, easily makes someone hunch into their shell. A hazard when fighting, due to the various dangers it could cause, from muscle issues to the lack of solid ground to keep balance. It didn't matter to him anyways. He was a champion of battle, and even a hazard wouldn't touch him.

Forcing himself to slow his pace, he entered the small cluster of people with umbrellas that marked the street next to the campus. Pretending to hunch his shoulders and clutch at the jacket, he let the flow of feet carry him as he worked towards his destination. He could've easily doubled his speed, or even tripled it, but 'don't stand out' rang in his mind.

Sure, there wasn't even a full crowd of people pushing and pulling, and often there was a little space. But who remembers the average trundlers over the rushers? And besides, there was no harm in letting Strength get there first. Might even be a boon in the end.

It was a little longer until he arrived at the coffee shop, straightening and looking around for the aura of Strength. That one would never hide in a crowd.... Let alone the sparsity of a rainy day's traffic.

Two hundred meters from his house, Strength looked up at the sky and shook his head. Rain still hammered down relentless, the sun invisible behind grey clouds, thick on a sky that was also somehow itself grey. Ducking under the eave of the nearest building, another cut and paste residential block, he glanced both ways down the street, assessing options. Amazingly, despite the city traffic, there were no cabs in sight and the subway was another block away. Despite himself, he shivered in his jacket. Half a mile in this would soak him to the bone.

With no other option, Strength flicked up his collar, turned, and broke into a run. Dodging between the few people still on the streets, attracting more than a few questioning looks, he sprinted for the nearest supermarket, two blocks out of the way, barreling through the doors in a spray of rainwater. Barely two minutes later and he was back outside, unfurling a cheap black umbrella, the days newspaper tucked under his arm.

In a way, the rain was a boon. Whatever it was they were doing tonight was obviously clandestine, and the rain would provide a modicum of cover. After all, who'd be mad enough to be out in this weather. Except people like, well, him, obviously. Allowing himself a thin grin, Strength checked his watch, nodded at the clock in satisfaction, then doubled his pace, examining each person he walked past. Barely one in ten even looked at him, and the ones that did didnt give him a second glance. That was the problem with people these days. No one paid any attention to the world around them.

The rest of the journey was relatively uneventful, though he did make it a point to stop twice and let the traffic, foot and vehicle, flow on. From his vantage point across the road, the little coffee shop, some local joint called, inexplicably, the Muffin Break, was almost empty. The lights turned red and he crossed quickly, dodging between two cars as they slowed. One of them was a cab, its on duty light glowing, and the corners of Strength's eyes crinkled in wry amusement as he pushed open the door.

He'd been right. It was almost empty. Automatically breaking the room into quadrants, he strode towards the counter. The young couple giggling to themselves in the corner hadnt taken their eyes off each other, the businessman in the rumpled suit sitting at the table across rolling his eyes at each cutesy noise they made. The only other customer was a middle aged guy, alone at his table, half eaten sandwich sitting in front of him. Strength met his eyes, and the man gave him a half nod, running one hand across his shaved head.

He knew, in that half second, that the other man had sized him up in one practiced glance, just as Strength had assessed him. Mid 30s, dressed exactly nondescript enough to attract no attention, military, or ex at least, from the way he held himself. To put it bluntly, an operator. Someone who could handle himself. The guy stood, rising lithe and easy, reaching into his jacket, and Strength tensed.

"Guess it's my turn to brave the elements, eh pal."

His voice echoed with wear. Of too much hard liquor and tobacco. Smiling, or at least showing his teeth, the guy pulled a cheap cigarette from inside his jacket and stuck it between his lips. Without another word, or even waiting for a reply, he sauntered past, so close their shoulders brushed against each other, and pushed open the door. Strength watched him go in the mirrors behind the counter, only turning his eyes to the barista behind the counter when the door had closed again completely. Petite, one too many facial piercings just taking the edge off her cuteness, with a badge that proudly stated that her name was Laura and she would love to help him choose the right drink, the girl gave him a smile that almost looked genuine and rolled her eyes at the door.

"I know, right. Awful out there."

She paused, and he nodded his assent that, yes, the constant driving rain was awful. Grinning, this one real, she swept her left arm out towards the pastry counter and kitschy collection of mugs stacked against the back wall. "So, what can I get for you?"

His eyes flicked up to the board behind her head, read nothing on it. Didnt need to. His order wasnt complicated.

"Coffee. Nothing fancy, just black, one sugar." He hesitated, intentionally, followed the line of her arm with his eyes as he span slowly on his heel towards the cakes. The boy in the corner chose that second to say something hilarious, sending his girlfriend into peals of laughter that echoed oddly around the room. Glancing their way, he considered the cakes for another long second then turned square back to Laura.

"And everything in here looks good." The last word was purred, a low rumble that made her smile. And it was true. It all did. "What would you," he made a point to recheck her name badge, "Laura, recommend to me from the selection over there?" She opened her mouth to speak and he held up a hand, interrupting whatever it was she was about to say. "You know what, I love surprises. I'm going to take my seat. I'll have whatever you bring me."

The girl rolled her eyes at him, though she was smirking as she turned to make his coffee, moving with practiced efficiency. He took a seat at the table furthest from the door, back to the wall, and unfurled the paper. Looks like he'd beaten the Chariot here. He'd half expected the guy to be here when he'd arrived, had entertained the fact for half a second that maybe Mr Spec-ops might have been him, at least until the guy had spoken.

Ah well, he thought, flicking his eyes to the clock on the wall. Taking a deep breath, he lounged back in his chair and raised the paper, looking up every few seconds to check the street outside. With nothing to do but wait, might as well check what's going on in the local news.

“Took y’long enough, eh, Karim? Where’s the rest of the deck?” Karim picked a few cards from her deck at random: a Jack, Queen, King, and Ace (wow, what luck!) and threw them into the air. As they hit the ground, a man walked in, the only face-up card: Jack. “Damn it, is it just you two?!” Of course it was! The cards rarely lied, though circumstances did change from time to time... “for now I want you two to head on over to Lil’ Maybelle. Not the main district, but that shady little area behind that… that spot apart from the popular bit, behind that rental shop or whatever.” Ahaha! A shady part like that? Sure, Itex might go there, none ever populated the area. It was worth checking out anyone there. “And you know the drill – keep away from civilians.” Yes, mother. It wasn't like Amy always ranted on and on and on and on about... the Jack left, wind from his cape scattering the cards and flipping two of them in the process... Karim should be getting on her way as well. A car drove in as Karim left, probably a poor soul left to face Liesel's wrath... Ahahaha! Sadly, it wasn't worth getting caught up in the back-draft to stay and watch.

It was still raining. The parasol came up, and it twirled as Karim pranced through the back streets on the way to Lil' Maybelle. So much had happened, so little, but it was time to face Itex! Who could they be? Would they be excited at all to meet them? Hahaha, of course not. But fights were just boring, weren't they? This was... thievery, yes, guile, deception, trickery... magic. Would they see it coming? Not at all, but it would help to have more than just the two versus them, however many. Oh, they were there weren't they. Amy pushed her back to attention on the streets, to the mask she kept on her. Ah, masks! They were such fun! People never knowing who you were, always guessing, guessing, guessing... And who was this lovely mask? It seemed like only yesterday it was another... Was it?

---

Amara walked out of the News From Throme offices, holding her umbrella and notepad as she walked through Throme. There was a meeting today, and a chance to confront Itex; Karim needed to be prepared. Amara shook her consciousness into awareness, making her keep watch for anyone interesting, pointing it out to her as needed. Masquerade needed a new target, and it would be stupid to let the enemy know Karim as herself from the get-go. Wrapping her coat around herself, Amara walked out toward Sagaro Mall, where people would still be walking even on miserable days like today. Karim kept a lookout and pointed toward one, a man walking briskly with a suit and briefcase, some businessman. Him? Karim gave assent. Whatever you want...

Amara walked up to the man, "Hello, could I have a few seconds of your time? I'm Amara Calen, from News From Throme. It's nice to meet you." She held out a hand which the man accepted and shook cautiously. "Umm... may I help you? I'm- I'm in a rush, you see? Business, you know, as usual?" "Oh, I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, but I'm conducting a survey for the papers; it won't take more than a moment of your time, and then we'll be on our separate ways again." The man sighed and pushed up his glasses, "Alright, but... only a few questions. I have an important meeting to go to, you know?" The conversation continued for not long after that, but habits didn't escape Amara's eyes. He shifted from foot to foot, answered questions evasively. He adjusted his tie, pushed his glasses up constantly, his eyes darted from here to there in conversation. He kept looking at his wrist for a watch that wasn't there. Whatever he was doing, he seemed nervous of it; the briefcase never left his hand for a moment. It looked heavy.

They parted, and Karim took over, following from above, making adjustments to the mask as needed...

---

Yes, Amy, no need to remind me... Ahaha! Hah. The mask went on, and Karim transformed, an Arthur Thorne standing there instead. The white suit was replaced by a darker one, a navy, dampened by the rain. His black umbrella (no longer the well-designed white parasol) did little to stop the rain hitting his legs or even the lower part of his suit. His glasses were taken off from time to time to be wiped clean then pushed back on and periodically pushed up again as they slid down the bridge of his nose. His brown briefcase by his side was wet and not getting any drier. He picked it up and began walking briskly through the backstreets of Maybelle. From time to time, he shifted his items in his hands: putting down the briefcase to wipe his glasses, moving it to the same hand as the umbrella, setting the umbrella aside quickly to dry his glasses using both hands (this got his already damp, dark brown, close-cropped hair even more wet).

The man paused in the alleys, looking for a signpost, any directions to get anywhere. "Drat. Umm... where was it. He said we were meeting... forgotten, as usual. Gosh darnit, write these things down sometime! Hmm... what was the name?" Arthur continued on his way through the backstreets of Lil' Maybelle, that bit behind the rental shop. He may have looked distracted, but he was ever on the lookout for potential meeting spots and strange characters in meeting...

There was no Strength in the rain. For some reason, this absence, and obvious abscond to the interior of the coffee shop, made Chariot smirk. It seemed even the mighty had fallen to the weather. Pretending to hunch into his coat, he slipped easily under the eaves of the coffee shop door, loitering there a moment as another man passed him. Pulling the flames of his powers out, underneath the clothes, he dried himself off slightly, allowing the flames to be mostly dampened by the soaked clothing and wet atmosphere.

Shaking himself off like a wet dog, Chariot swooped into the shop. The coat sitting on his shoulders, although without arms in the sleeves, hung surprisingly stiffly for what it should have endured, and the hair was perhaps a little too dry, but only the close observer would notice the slightly off details.

Moving quietly, swiftly, up towards the counter, he pretended to completely ignore the current conversation between the server girl and the man whose mere presence seemed to single him out from the entire customer base. 'One cup coffee, black, no sugar, cream.'

The words were like an incision into the flow of casual talk, like a sergeant barking orders, except with less force and volume. 'The ride is tough out there.' The casual remark was as he turned away, moving towards an empty table at the back, glancing once over his shoulder with a slight smirk. He wondered if Strength got the small reference or not. At least he'd recognise the cold voice of the Chariot, for it hardly changed from voice chat to actual conversation.

Liesel Moringmer; Dullahan Library Underground Car Park

A set of footsteps.

And then another.

Her usual smile was on her face before she knew it – oh, it was anything but pleasant. Those familiar with a Moringmer knew that, like any beast, teeth were never a friendly sign. The grin grew wider at Cedric’s… explanation, which went unacknowledged as slowly approached the newly arrived pair.

“Well, well, look who’s finally here!” she exclaimed, stepping up to the deck the Joker had left scattered on the ground. Crouching down, she flicked her finger and flipped the cards over one by one. “The King,” flip, “and the Ace,” flip. The King of Hearts and Ace of Spades were clear against the concrete. She blew the dust away, sighing through gritted teeth, before straightening.

Damn it, she really needed that smoke right about then or she was going to throttle someone.

“And it’s only half-past late.” It was her own words that sent Liesel past the ‘pleasant’ stage of her rage. Grin dying into a grimace, the woman closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. “Damn it, when there is a set time, there is a fucking reason! No message, no warning… you might have been caught in traffic or you might have been caught by Itex. How the hell am I supposed to know?” Her glare was turned to the king, who had been her fellow ‘strategist’ for quite some time now. “And I think you of all people know just how impossible any mission is with even one damn missing link… so where is that goddamn royal pain…”

Of course, Liesel meant the Queen… but she’d deal with that one later.

Now, the woman could have easily gone on her tirade for the next week and a half, but fortunately for the present pair, there was no time for that. She’d have to make it brief. “We’re out of time, so change of plans.” ‘Again…’. “There’s been a tip off that a certain warehouse by the river, a short ways off the pier, has something valuable to Itex. I don’t think I have to say that what’s valuable to Itex is valuable to us, hm?” Right, and she had the delivery to make… how to go about doing this... Liesel pondered a solution as her hand drifted to the package in her pocket. “Crow. You’ll head over first. I’ll send over her majesty when she arrives.” To the King, she signaled for him to be quiet and wait. “But be on your guard. I can’t assure the… reliability of this source. At least, not yet.”

She waited until the Ace was gone before addressing Cedric. “Now, don’t say a word, this is Torrings’ decision, not mine. You’re not going to be sticking around with me anymore,” she sighed, closing her eyes, looking almost weary… almost. Not quite. Liesel was a woman who needed no rest. “So, apparently you’re not needed here,” she stated slowly, circling around, trying to find the best way to approach the topic. In the end, she chose the only way she knew how: the direct approach. “You’re needed out on the field.”

She only gave the younger man a glance, a cursory gauge of reaction, before pulling the box from her pocket. “And we both know that’s pretty damn well impossible without a mask,” she continued. “And frankly, I don’t know what Torrings is thinking, as per damn usual, and in all honesty I think he’s acting like a goddamn fool…” Rambling. She needed to get to the point. With another sigh, she thrust the slender box towards the King and recited the proper phrase: “But I don’t have a choice. As Liesel Moringmer, proxy for Arthur Torrings, I gift this mask to you.”

With that said, there was no turning back. What the hell was Torrings thinking. She never knew. Never. “In case you haven’t put two and two together, that’s the moron’s mask. His. It’s complete, but it’s not originally yours, so the personality will be overwhelming. Before you head on to help out Crow at the warehouse, give it a test run. I’ve gifted the mask, so you should be able to sense it – can you hear the words ringing in your head?”

Well, Liesel was going off second-hand information, but she hoped that her understanding of the masks was accurate enough to let the King transform.

Another voice cut through the background murmur, a voice he recognised. Without even needing to look around, Strength knew. Cursing inwardly for not noticing the Chariot's approach, he spoke without looking back, face calm, voice steady.

"Yeah."

The single word held no inflection, no indication of what was running through his mind. It was almost bait, a lead in, for the Chariot to respond to, to open up first. Despite himself, Strength was intrigued as to what the other man would bring up, what he found important.

Chosing not to sit down, Chariot stayed standing, glancing around the coffee shop. "Not much of a crowd today." The murmer of casual conversation probably irritating, Chariot almost seemed disinterested. Instead he chose to furrough his brow before striding around into his compatriot's field of vision.

"Wonder who the deliveryman with the package is." A flicker of a smile, then, for the crowd, or lack thereof, in the cafe. "Wouldn't be out on the street where delicate things could be ruined..."

Casting an appraising eye over his companion, Strength grunted an assent, raised an eyebrow in question. "Honestly, I expected you to know who we were here to meet." Between the apparent apathy of the Chariot and the fact that neither of them knew concrete detail, still, alarm bells were ringing in his head.

Giving the room another quick glance, Strength leant forward, fixing the Chariot with a steady stare. "Do we have nothing to go on? At all?" A slight pause, one almost followed with criticism, but held back. Either way, it seemed their organisation didnt believe in handing out detailed briefs.

"Judgement is one of the more caprious superiors." The reply was fired back, casually daring the obvious criticism that even Chariot, not a skilled conversant, knew hung behind the comment. "He leaves information willy nilly, but nothing coherant. It's supposed to make the operatives think on their feet."

Frowning as he stared closely at the renewed giggling in the corner, Chariot's eyes thinned to slits. "I hate peaceful missions."

Whatever Strength was going to say was interrupted by the waitress bringing over their drinks. Giving her a nod of thanks, he reached out, taking his own coffee, staring down into the murky liquid as if in deep thought. Purposefully stretching out seconds, he took a sip, set the mug back on the table, every movement slow and controlled, designed to put the Chariot even less at ease.

"I have no strong feelings either way. Whether it's peaceful or not. I just dont like not knowing exactly what I'm doing." He stressed the last few words, waited for the other man to reply, watching the steam from the two cups twining patterns into the air.

Accepting the cup, but immediately discarding it in favour of the constant stare around the room. It was almost as if the Chariot couldn't help but keep a constant surveillance on the entire shop, just in case an enemy burst from somewhere.

"Then you'd prefer several of the other superiors. It's a pity that Judgement is the most common one to give out orders." There was... not very well hidden irritation in this comment, though much less of Strength's distaste for the lack of details. "Package means it's large enough to be noticable."

From his seat, back to the wall, Strength could see the entire room, even with his attention focused on his coffee. The seat had been chosen for this purpose, and he'd also known, in the back of his head, that the Chariot would have to sit with his back to a blind spot. Glad to see that the other man was at least keeping his eyes open, Strength took another long slug of the coffee, set the cup back down with a decisive snap.

"Well, Judgement said something about the backstreets. I came in here as we didnt seem to have a timeframe, and, honestly, to get out of the rain." He stood, pushed his chair back under the table, fished a note out of his pocket and tossed it onto the table, set a spoon on top of it. "Sitting here is accomplishing nothing. The sooner we start searching, the sooner we can find this package."

Again, Strength noticed that he was taking charge, despite the assertations that Chariot was to be the leader of the two. Calm and steady as a mountain, he simply stood and waited for the younger man's response.

Flicking his eyes back to Strength, Chariot turned his lips up in a smile. It certainly wasn't the casual cruel smile, more of a.. somewhat startled, but completely amused smile. He had always found those with initiative despite put in a lower position an amusing type. And certainly one that Itex could use. That she could...

"Indeed." Still not having touched the coffee, he stood with Strength. "The package wouldn't be out in the rain. More likely it'll be in a public meeting place out of the rain. This shop is actually one of the few places that could be described like that around here. But obviously is barren of the contact. So, all that remains is the small local mall down the road, and the covered food court that competes with here." The eyes had flashed cold, as the minutae detail of the map of the area was recalled. He paused long enough to almost imply he was deciding where to go...

Then. "So, which do you suggest?" The smile returned as he stared. Eyes unblinking in a gaze which seemed to expect something.

'The package wouldnt be out in the rain.' So Chariot did know something about this mission he wasnt sharing. Interesting. Strength met his gaze, returning the smile with one of his own as he spread both arms in a half shrug.

"What do I suggest? I seem to remember you being put in charge." The smile widened, fractionary, for a moment, then was gone, replaced by a pure and focused, businesslike calmness. "What do you suggest?" A slight pause, then a semi-sardonic, "Sir"

The smile from Chariot vanished just as fast as the eyes narrowed again. He never was good at expecting changes in conversational flow, and the persistant feeling that Strength was trying to get something from this that he couldn't fathom irked him.

"I suppose I was." The admission ruined the attempt to draw a suggestion, but then, the other had chosen that route quite intentionally it seemed. "On a rainy day, the Mall is likely the least likely place to be spotted in a clandestine meeting, so I suppose that is my suggestion of where to start."

"Well then." Gesturing to the door, Strength kept his face carefully straight. On a rainy day, a mall, the only covered place in the area, would be the least likely place to be seen? Still, it didnt matter, every word, every passing moment brought fresh information forward. Like how the Chariot was still deferring to him, or at least acting at it.

For some reason, Strength couldnt grasp the other man. Couldnt read him. The erratic changes in personality, the twitchiness. None of it was congruent with what he'd been expecting. Filing it away, to be dealt with another time, he nodded once. "Lead the way."

Well, game over. The new recruit was more than what had been expected, certainly. And Chariot hated how the conversation was turned around on him. Oh well, the game was over, the report would be filed back after this was over. Closing his face into the cold reflection of a perpetual icy stare, he nodded and headed towards the door himself. It was time to get this done with. No more reason to loiter, after all.

Striding out into the rain with nary a glance to see if the other was following, the Chariot seemed to ignore the wetness, despite the coat not being much protection against the heavy driving rain. And he never stopped his roving eyes, taking in anyone on the street. Anyone passing by. The very fact that Itex suddenly called a meeting not originally scheduled, and upping activity around the place, meant that something big was happening. And whenever something big happened, there was always danger.

(Written by Alasund De'astion and Harlequin Smile)

The umbrella wasn't helping at all. Arthur put aside his umbrella once again to dry his glasses; he had no idea where he was. Wandering the streets of Maybelle would only get you something if you were lucky, and that hadn't happened yet. Well, he was finding where suspicious people weren't, narrowing down the search. Maybe Liesel was wrong? Ahaha! A quick response, No, we were sent here for a reason. Quitting halfway would only bring punishment. But they were turned around; where was a sign? The glasses went back on, see-through-able again for now (sure, they weren't needed, but a disguise was a disguise; it needed to be perfect). A nearby street sign proclaimed this Orion Street, and a quick glance showed a coffee shop nearby, with eaves which would at least stop the rain for a little while.

Arthur walked past, as a man in a coat walked up to the door before him. He paused, waiting for something, as Arthur walked by. A voice in the head, Why'd he pause? Take note, pay attention. I will not have you slacking off here! So Arthur slowed down and paid attention. And felt a slight wave of heat... that shouldn't have been there. A quick turn of the head, a whispered "Decoy" followed just as quickly by "End." An onlooker might have seen another "Arthur" for a split second, less, actually. It started to appear in the back of the head before disappearing as quickly as it came, facing the other man, and its information was conveyed to Karim, the other image of Arthur.

The man was dry; his hair at the very least, his coat stiffer than it should have been after walking through however much rain. Coupled with the sudden heat, there was something strange going on here. A coffee shop was a meeting place, and this was no normal customer. Call it investigator's intuition or whatever. Keep track of that man. And don't be seen... ...Yes, yes, 'mother.' No need to remind me twice! Ahahaha! This looks to be an interesting day! Haha! At the end of the eaves, the end of the building, Arthur sat with his briefcase to the side, his umbrella down, his glasses wiped. The watch that wasn't there was fidgeted with, as a message was input to the communicator. "@J2: Orion St Cafe, suspiciously-dry man, keeping lookout, following if needed. Come here and help. P.S. you won't recognize me. Ahahaha! ;)"

Sitting there, an organizer was brought out from his coat and looked at, scribbled-in additions entered from time to time. Suddenly, the cafe door opened once again, and a pair came out, one the dry guy, the other a man with... some presence. Something just felt... strong about him, confident. As they walked off, Arthur finished his dry spell and packed up, opening the umbrella and picking up the briefcase. With safe distance, he headed off in a... similar direction, where he could keep tabs on the duo. Back at the end of the eaves, a piece of note paper was left, left for Jack when he arrived looking for her, the Joker.

Chilly rain, small refrain, why didn't he bring an umbrella. Ax laughed as he half-mocked his human host internally. Well, it wasn't exactly correct, because James had taken an umbrella the entire way. He'd just left it in the greenery when he transformed into Axilious.

But what fun was it to be the star and forget a part of the play? Always others to blame it on. Always a person who deserved the guilt and who ought to be taught a lesson. Always someone else. After all, that was something the common human was good for. Taking blame, that is.

'Hum, hum, hummity hum.' The tune was bland at best, but it was the preoccupation that mattered the most to him. There would be a while before anything came of watching backstreets, and besides that, it'd just look like an obvious trap if there was a man unpreoccupied on a rainy streetcorner. Which is why he was now standing underneath an overhang, glancing casually over the shop's display.

"DAMN IT!" out of nowhere, the Wheel of Fortune stumbled back into view. "I forgot the time!" Then, almost as though he just realized that Axilious was there, he bounded up onto his toes with a smirk. "Just pretend that I was never here and go and do whatever. I wanna see a show!"

Shocked at the sudden appearance out of what seemed like thin air, he stepped back for one single moment before grinning fiercely. 'I am the star of the show.' The pronouncement shortly followed by an almost feral leap from the elegant prancer towards the new figure.

WoF stood there for a nanosecond, mouth agape, before he leapt backwards. "What are you doing, Lacey?!" he complained with a petulant frown on his face - more suitable for a child than anyone else. "You're not supposed to do that!"

'What, supposed to do my duty and catch an Itex agent? Hah!' Rolling forwards over the soaked road, and coming up smoothly, he stared down the other, soft blond locks plastered to his face by the driving rain. As the bladed staff materialised in hand, he flourished it, stepping closer. 'So, whelp, duel me and die honourably?'

That obviously wasn't WoF's idea of fun. Ignoring the completely incorrect statement, he continued stepping backwards, seemingly unworried of the extremely sharp object in Fluffy's hand. "But dueling is so ... boooooring. Why don't we do something else? You can duel with the," he glanced around then pointed at the shop display. "funny fake person in there. It even has clothes that are as pff as yours!"

Now, that did raise a grin, but it wasn't exactly 'haha I won't attack you anymore'. This was the 'What did you just imply? I think you need to be stabbed' grin. And sure enough, twirling the staff expertly, he stepped forwards measuredly, keeping pace with the retreating figure before lunging, staff directly out in front of him, attempting to skewer the other like a shishkebab.

He leapt backwards as quickly as he could, the staff not plunging into his chest - yet. After spending a few valuable seconds blowing a raspberry at the highly dangerous Lacey, he spun around and started running down the street as though his life depended on it. Which it probably did.

Growling as the blade missed, Axilious dismissed it and began haring after the vanishing figure. Trust Itex to turn tail and RUN. And this rain wasn't letting up either...

Trying to pump his legs as quickly as they could go, WoF alloted the vast majority of his brainpower to trying to remember one of his skills. Mainly because he wasn't really paying attention to where he was doing, his feet slid on a piece of slick sidewalk. A few seconds later, he was on the ground - bruised but not yet broken, completely wet, and a few meters farther away from his pursuer. And did he mention the pain?

To be honest, he'd expected a longer and better chase. However, he wouldn't pass up this opportunity. Slowing to a walk, he sauntered over towards the now injured prey. His movements designed to bring hype to the audience that... that... Holy hells. There was a one man who was staring at him strangely. Well, that sure put a dampener on things. Pretending to be going to check on the prone figure, he desperately prayed to whatever god was out there that the man keep on walking.

It seemed as though seeing threatening people walk closer made WoF's mind move faster. Without even noticing the other man, WoF quickly shouted, "Haha! I bet you're surprised!" and with hardly a transition, there was suddenly a rapidly spinning roulette wheel looming over his head.

Right. Itex was cowardly AND had no sense of presence. Well, the wheel certainly wasn't something that could be explained away, and the man now peering closer to try and work out what he was seeing was starting to become an annoyance. Even moreso when his wristwatch suddenly vibrated against his wrist. 'Goddamn all you pretentious self-absorbed critters.' Hopefully the man hadn't seen either of them well in the driving rain, and Axilious preferred to retreat while the Itex lackey made a fool of himself and became easily recognisable for the future. So, he jumped to the side, rolled, and vanished around the streetcorner...

The wheel gradually slowed, but WoF paid that no mind. There was no opponent, who had suddenly vanished around the corner. So, of course, he decided that the best course of events would be to -- there was a man? Who dared look at him as though he was the show? With a pout, he slowly picked himself off of the cold, hard ground and decided to follow Fluffy. At least he didn't stare as much. So, taking a cue from the other strange man, he bounded in the same direction.

Safe and sound around the next corner, Ax allowed himself a few moments of closed eye imagined adoration at his excellent exit. Well, whatever. He may have lost that due to a bystander, but he still had that message. Ah, Karim. Frowning and trying to recall the location of the Orion Coffee Shop, or of Orion Street itself, he paused, stretching the consideration out for just long enough...

And then his thoughts were interrupted by the Itex Lackey. Seems he'd realised the scene he was making too. 'Well, well, see what the gutters brought up...'

Ignoring the comment, the Wheel of Fortune merely blew the weirdly-dressed man a loud raspberry. "Your clothes, right? I knew they were gutter style." He reached forward to try and grab the elaborate material and surprisingly held it fairly easily.

Ax, completely shocked by the sudden aggresive reaction, stared for a moment before he tried to swat the hands away. 'Hands off my personage, if you please.'

WoF seemed to be just as amazed by his ability to place one hand on his opponent. However, he didn't dwell on it for very long. Despite the swatting hands of his opponent, he continued to hold on to the fabric before rubbing it between his palms. "Heavy." Looking up into Lacey's blue eyes, he seemed to find the entire thing quite amusing. "Yep. Gutter style. You should pick something that doesn't make you look like a jellyfish with legs."

And he dared to comment on his choice of clothes? Axilious literally seethed with rage, pivoting forwards to try and heave his fist right into the other's face. 'Gutter?!?!'

Leaping backwards, he was forced to relinquish his hold on the ornate material. Instead of trying to punch him (it was somewhat of a lost cause), he allowed a huge black book with peeling golden letters to materialize in hand and awkwardly thrust it towards Fluffy.

'Oof' Caught by surprise, failing to realise this was a masked opponent and therefore armed with a weapon not visible, Ax founds himself biffed on the chest by a book, staggering back despite the awkwardness of the blow. 'You use a BOOK to fight?'

There was a brief pause as WoF bounded up (with a loud giggle) to look at the stumbling Fluffy's face. "It's the Art of Escaping Boredom," he chimed. "You should read it. You wouldn't be as bored as you are."

'And you can tell I'm bored?' Laughing once, Axilious recalled the twirling bladed staff, grinning still, message forgotten... With one shout of 'Hah!' he struck out, joining battle in both word and weapon. While there weren't any observers due to the nature of the streets, and the rain driving even the lurkers of the backstreets away, Axilious performed as if to an audience.

And then there was the Wheel of Fortune, book cut into as he blocked the deadly blade, quite disinterested in the battle, took his part in the play as well. Pouting for every mark on his 'weapon', and always looking for a reason to escape his pursuer.

The rain fell onto the rooftops with a soft hiss and the occasional plunk as the raindrops struck a metal surface. It pooled in slight depressions in the surface of the roof, or in the corners where the level of the building wasn't quite perfect. A few sullen looking pigeons huddled together on the nearby lip of the building, doing their best to cram underneath the overhanging gantry of a billboard, but not wanting to disturb the black hooded figure already beneath it. He radiated wrongness to them. The deep hood of the figure turned ever so slightly towards the pigeons, barely acknowledging their presence. They scattered, flying off through the rain in hopes of finding a safer sanctuary from the rain.

Dek watched the pigeons fly off with a small smirk of satisfaction on his face. Rats with wings. But they know better than to stay around someone like me. The tall pale man leaned forward slightly to glance at the street below, several scant drops of rain falling on the back of his hood with faint snapping sounds. Watching. His least favorite task. Too much waiting, observing. Not enough destruction, or fighting. Nothing worth doing any work for. His smirk quickly turned into a grimace. What's taking them so long? Surely they have it by now. Or are they doing something fun without me? Surely they wouldn't. His hand reached into his pocket, taking out his mobile.

For what must've been the tenth time in the past five minutes, Dek read the same message on his phone:
From: Anon.
Orion Cafe. Overwatch, 2 Itex w/ package. Approach after retrieval. Do not be late again, Tower. Punishment will be severe.


Dek snorted derisively before putting the phone back into his pocket. Christ he hated waiting. Again, he peered over the lip of the rooftop to stare at the people below. Almost like insects. So weak, so fragile. Not knowing who or what watches them. Not knowing of the dangers they could be in. A minute more of watching before he withdrew his head back underneath the gantry on the billboard. It wasn't that Dek hated the rain. In fact, he quite enjoyed it when he wasn't being forced to stand by idly. Then it wore on his patience as obstinately as an itch that was just out of reach. One final glance, then he'd go find something more interesting to do. Punishments be damned.

Within moments of looking over the edge of the building, he saw who he was looking for. Heh. Those two. They couldn't blend in if they tried, not with that kind of presence. Dek smiled as he turned into the rain as he placed his hands into his pockets. With those two exuding the presence they did, try as they might to blend in, any Masked would be drawn to them like flies to an open garbage bin. Dek followed the two on the street, keeping close to the edges of the buildings, barely staying visible. He hoped the Masked would follow, that'd make his day much much more interesting. And his day had been mind-crushingly dull so far. Oh what a day what a day this will turn out to be. What a day, what a day...

Sharp teeth bared into a smile meant anger - which was bad for the heart. Brought with it promises of future heart attacks. What a shame. She needed her bodies to be healthy in life.

“And it’s only half-past late. Damn it, when there is a set time, there is a fucking reason! No message, no warning… you might have been caught in traffic or you might have been caught by Itex. How the hell am I supposed to know?”

Yes, this was probably anger. Although whether or not Itex even had the means to capture a jinxflinger was doubtful. Very. There was a reason why magicians were always in demand. Because they were helpful.

“And I think you -”

Crow ignored whatever she said. There was no point. She was talking to the royal bastard who had no powers whatsoever. Really useless. Could be taken down with an arrow to the head. Probably aimed between the eyes. Would be simple enough.

Listening to the instructions to the warehouse with a quarter of one ear, Crow simply stood there, unmoving, not reacting, even as she inched her back closer to a wall. Always nice to have some backup. Her senses were at the top of her game - making her almost hypersensitive - and for a second, she was aware of the constant smell that always surrounded her.

So she was supposed to leave?

Exiting the room with the same blank expression that she used when entered, she paused after a few steps, just in turn to hear voices from inside start as soon as she left.

The two of them leaned together closely, whispering in each other’s ears with the appearance of common criminals. A tiny wavering smoke curled around their faces. ‘How soon are we going to do the deed. Well, of course, it will have to be done soon. Very soon. A poisoned blade will do the trick very well. Yes we have to be careful. The girl is only valuable to us dead.’ Faces marred with deadly smirks. A weapon fingered lovingly.

Yes, they had to be plotting against her. To destroy her life and steal her magic. They coveted her mask. They wanted her dead.

Arriving there did not take that much time. Walking in the center of the sidewalk, ignoring all of the little in number, hapless, brainless mortals that dared to be in her way. Fists clenched tightly, making her knuckles whiter than the rest of her skin, as she tried to drive back the urge to see them all to the loving embrace of death with a well-placed arrow.

The warehouse came into view faster than she expected. A quiet burbling from the river continued to annoy Crow even as she looked at the slightly open door that beckoned her closer.

A

Trap.

Refusing to get any closer, Crow stood there and looked at the opening, half expecting to see skeletal fingers curl over the wood. Then, a few minutes later, she continued walking forwards. The Queen could have fun setting off the trap because Crow was not going to waste her life on any dangers. Not if she could help it.

Just ahead, a wooden surface jutted over the silver-blue surface of the water. Skin tingling with the feeling that someone was going to kill her, Crow strode closer, magical sparks dancing from her fingertips.

There was someone there.

A boy.

With black clothing and white hair. Almost like her. Drawing one of her Lirael arrows from the air around her, she flicked it into the air, aiming a few centimeters away from his face. A warning shot across the bow. And if he moved into its trajectory, it wouldn’t be too much of a loss anyways.

A few minutes later, the arrow was arching elegantly towards the pier, leaving a faint trail of light as it traveled. Keening the siren call of death as it went.

With deft movements, Crow continued to pull a second arrow out of the air, letting it sit dormant in her hand. Always good to be prepared. Tongue tripping through the complicated incantation to control her still-flying arrow, the magician looked at her target through disinterested eyes. ‘How would the body react?’

It was taking a while. Was everyone of this world as inept as his contact? How long had it been? They all should have made it here by now, the contact, the others... anybody at all. This was taking far too long, but Itex's orders were Itex's orders. They wouldn't be disobeyed, and Caine was not as inept as the others. He would wait as long as needed or until he could wait no longer. The drawing complete, Caine flipped to the next page and noted with slight confusion the dampness of the book. Oh, right. It was raining. Not that it mattered, the rain never seemed to bother him. It calmed him, actually, or tried to. Speaking of, how was Kaden dealing with the rain and his friends? Oh well, he couldn't make a huge mess of things, right? Not as badly as the last time...

No, it was no use worrying about things he couldn't fix at the moment. And at the moment the main problem was meeting anyone at the meeting place. Itex had done its job and cleared the area, so there was no one around. And who would want to be around during such a wet day at a pier? People surely had better things to do. But seriously, where was the contact? There was a package, correct? It needed to be received and delivered to Itex. The contact would meet them; he had no need to move from this spot. But the others should have been here... it took nowhere near this long to get here. Maybe it should be reported? That the... leader of this mission did so well that he never showed? Hanged Man, indeed... and where was the Hermit, being reclusive as its name implied? Idiots. If he'd have to complete this mission by himself... If there were... complications. Did they concern themselves with their own well-being? Idiots, the lot of them...

Caine closed his sketchpad, his pen pressed inside, and sat on the pier, his legs swinging back and forth as he listened to his surroundings. Rain, hitting the water. Ripples from what may be fish underneath the dock; their smell was pervasive as well. The wind blowing around him. No people. Not yet. He waited, and waited, and he waited some more. Eventually, after what seemed like forever, there was the sound of footsteps. Was it finally one of the others? Or was it the contact? The footsteps paused and continued toward him before stopping again.

Suddenly, a sound. A keening, a projectile? A projectile. And... muttering, an incantation? The Magician wasn't sent on this mission; was there another? An invoker of sorts? Curiouser and curiouser... Turning, his head cocked to listen, sightless eyes staring in the direction of the projectile inquisitively, he stood up, his sketchpad catching the projectile mid-flight, his body reacting in "surprise." His fingers felt the projectile, a feather? Confusion likely clear on his face, he spoke in an almost-quivering voice, "Who's there? W- What do you want from me?"

It was strange; if it were Itex, there would be no need for attack. If it were the contact, would there truly be need for attack? And would the contact have a mask, for what else allowed magic in this otherwise magic-less world? Was there a third party interested in Itex, and how had they heard of the meeting? Had their location been compromised? Well, Caine would get what information he could from this person, and then it could be taken care of. Killing was no problem... no problem at all...

???; Liron Pier

“Don’t kill the messenger, eh?” the young woman scoffed as she nudged the limp body with her foot – red shoes, no heels, practical. After all, she was a very practical person. Don’t kill the messenger because, after all, he’s only delivering a message. That’s what he’d told her after their brief little exchange. Well, it seemed that for once, she’d actually listened – she hadn’t killed him, at least. However, the drying brown hue at her heel was a testimony to what she had done.

A note of trivia: she might not kill, but she didn’t have anything against a bit of blood.

Really though, in the end, she was sure no one would have minded if she’d chosen to off this particular messenger… especially when he didn’t seem to have a damn clue who he was supposed to be delivering to. After all, the young woman now possessed the ‘delivery’, a plain little package, right in her hands, and she certainly wasn’t the recipient. Well, she wasn’t unless her name had changed to ‘Itex Pawns’ overnight. “All I had t’do was flash a smile and give a nod,” the woman chuckled under her breath, tossing her prize into the air.

Finally, it something interesting was brewing in Throme at last.

This seemed worth observing.

---

The pier was dreadfully calm as the second half hour ticked past. So far, all the young woman had seen from her high off little perch was the occasional sailor trudging by with rods, reels, and who knows what else – hardly ‘suspicious recipient’ material.

Boooooring.

Hell, was that messenger so incompetent that he’d been on a rendezvous at the wrong place? Pff. She wouldn’t have put it past the gap-toothed creep. Or… perhaps he was… a decoy? A red herring sent out in the world to confuse any – hell no, if he was a member, this shady Itex organization couldn’t possibly be so cunning. Besides, the package was waaaaaay too much of a disappointment to even be a decoy – a decoy would’ve been… what, like a bomb or something.

Hm? How did she know it wasn’t a bomb?

Well, she had long since carefully opened and its contents thoroughly examined for her curiosity, but… well… there hadn’t been much to examine.

Packing peanuts.

Packing peanuts.

More packing peanuts.

Siamese twin packing peanuts.

And then just a small drawstring bag with an even smaller little sliver of… some kind of rock?... inside it. It wasn’t even anything significant – dull grey, not stronger than the concrete, not pretty to look at, nothing. Really. Way too boring to even be a decoy. The young woman creased her brow at that, her mouth twisting into a pout. What, that was it?! This was what that shifty incompetent was so suspiciously trying to deliver?

Booooring…

… or maybe, just maybe… it was important?

She couldn’t exactly rule out that possibility either. Hell, what did she know about geology? She hadn’t even finished high school. Maybe it was something important. Yeah.

And in that case, she was going to hang onto it… oh, but she’d be delivering the package alright… just with a little switcheroo.

***

The true package is hidden in the yet unopened exhibit of the MTAH. Good luck finding it.

With this, she could see how big a deal these Itex people were. If they called her out, then no big deal. If they took the message seriously and actually paid a ‘visit’ to the museum… well…

“Stop right there! If you do not, I’m calling the police!” a woman’s voice rang out. Startled, the observer flipped her position, again staring down by the riverside. Oh? How had she missed such an interesting development?... But all the same…

Throme just got a lot more fun.

"Hm, so you're the one they're givin' this mission to?" Something was tossed to Caine, and he grabbed it. The box. The package. It was slipped in his bag, and his attention was turned once again to his opponents. The projectiles had been stopped with the sound of water, and of course the lack of cries of pain helped confirm that. Well, if that didn't work... "Fulmen." The hands turned once more to his opponents, and from them shot bursts of electricity.

With a startled gasp, Caine's hands jerked back at the shock. That was going to be more dangerous than normal... Why, was there water around beside the river? Had one of the others done something he hadn't noticed? Well, they'd react to this attack at least... Meanwhile, the messenger was speaking again.

"The higher ups'll wanna know." Hmm? This messenger wanted an explanation? Of what was happening? If the higher ups wanted to know, they could be told by him. And believe me, they'd find out what happened here... When I question the disappearance of the leader and the third on such an important mission. This was not supposed to have as many complications, and of course the higher ups would be told. But now was not the time to hold idle conversation.

Taking the box away from the meeting place, Caine broke into a run, the memories of Kaden telling him when to turn, as he tried to lose the others. Once it was secured, the delivery could be completed...

Angry out of her mind, Crow was not in the best of moods to deal at the incoming wave of energy. The muffled thanks was just to be expected, as she was the magician in this scenario - but really, she paid it no mind.

What was the best way to get rid of this mage?

The lightning bolt spread, jumping from drop of water to drop of water before - whelp, getting a little charred isn't going to do anything, right? Angling her body so that the least amount of surface area was facing the wave of energy, she made sure that her left hand was stuck at her side and was rewarded by a - albeit irritating - shock. The energy transferred directly down the right side of her body, making it feel temporarily numb.

But mind over body, so she shook off the effects pretty quickly.

Then dancing fingers plucked two arrows this time and slung them through the air towards the running mage. What a shame. Magic was rare enough, but killing the apprentice would be necessary. Allowing the two to weave together, this time making sure that the singing of the arrows was deliberately confusing and slightly disorienting, she saw the two feathers speed through the air - faster than last time - one right after the other.

The fake messenger could only watch as the eccentric young man hurried off with the package. "Tch, knew that was pushing it," she sighed... but no, she was far from done. Her attention was drawn to the other figure, who seemed to be readying some magical attack. It was too dangerous to step in, but too interesting to miss - she'd adopt a spectator's seat once more.

Something sparkling caught by her vision, Thia's attention as she angled herself sideaways. There she saw bolts of lightning heading towards them. She instinctively opted to dodge which she did at the nick of time. Although, she could feel the close call as it passed ever so closely to her face. The fizzle of the air among with the watery environment they were in rather added a logical effect to the lightning sent from the boy's hands. Thinking about it, she smelled something singed and noticed that some portion of her hair were not so lucky to dodge the tender licks of lightning.

However, before she could do anything about it. Another set of feathers were released by the woman who had protected her from the earlier attack. This time all she could do was watch in silence and worry if it would connect with its intended target. It seemed that her morality was once more battling within her once more.

More feathers. They'd never hit with that sound. That one wouldn't hit him... Caine dodged to the side, muttered the command to his next spell: "Obturberis morerisque," and a shimmering emanated from him. There. If they weren't distracted by- Ouch! There was? Another one? It had hit Caine in the shoulder, cutting and drawing blood... that would need to be covered up soon, or he'd be as easy to follow as, well, kids who left breadcrumbs in a forest.

As he was saying, if they weren't distracted by whatever distractions resulted from that... it wasn't called a shield for nothing. It would help him get away, though they wouldn't forget about him. All that mattered was that it lasted long enough for him to complete his delivery. The box was safe. It was with him. Now, he only needed a return to the chat room... Then Kaden could be back to clean up his mess, and all would be good. There was no need to look back to see if they were still chasing; they wouldn't be for long, but he'd find out soon enough.

Coldly, approaching the runaway apprentice boy, Crow -

What was that?

Turning her head to the side, her cold, empty white eyes glanced down at the creaking wood floor of the pier. It was an annoyance, something to be destroyed, yes. But, there was somehing that she could just not remember.

The dark haired human was some sort of clue, right?

Oh, the apprenti -

...

The red shoes were really obnoxious. Really. Maybe it would be better if Crow helped the girl out of them. And destroyed them for good measure. Crow, stepping forward to do just that, suddenly remembered the package that was whipped out so flamboyantly.

Where had it gone in the first place?

She just couldn't remember. Even thinking about it was hard -

What was going on?!

The false messenger, who had been enjoying the spectacle, noticed the peculiar shift in the air as well. Her smile faded as she narrowed her pale brown eyes - strange. There seemed to be something like... a glitch in her memory? She knew that something was amiss because there was a hole in the mental print of her plan. She never had holes in her plans.

Her attention was diverted by the sound of weight on pavement, someone stepping towards her. Potential danger. Move.

In almost a reflexive response, the outsider spun on her heel to face the other 'costumed freak' - the girl - keeping wary watch for sudden movements. See, this false messenger knew the street life well. She didn't even forget to smile and pretend like she was calm, even though she was far, far from it. Inside, she was frantically searching for the missing piece of the puzzle - it almost felt as if she wasn't supposed to, with everything else, every movement, every sight and smell assaulting her senses, but she wasn't about to just gloss over the glaring inconsistency in her thoughts.

What was she missing... maybe this other girl had some answers. Oh, it was dangerous for sure - what could she do when the enemy could use magic? But hell, she was willing to take the risk.

"Hey," she started with a tilt of her head. "You there, freak number two - mind filling me in on what just happened?"

The mall loomed ahead as the two wanderers in the rain approached. Still silent, still unreacting to the rain, Chariot strode ahead. As if sensing that something was going to happen very soon, the rain beat down harder, the small drops of rain hitting hard enough to sting on exposed skin. And yet, that hardly stopped either man from Itex.

Chariot, pausing to look around once as they arrived at the mall entrance, grimaced in distaste while glancing around, his face shielded from his current partner's. Of course he'd been caught on the spot and said the most logical sounding thing that came to mind, and now he would look like a fool to Strength, most likely. Especially with the clusters of people inside the mall. So much for being as deserted as he wanted it to be. Not that it effected the mission in any way..

Shaking his head, he stepped into the covered entrance, before stepping to the side to 'allow' his partner to also get out of the rain, although the entrance was easily wide enough for them to have gone abreast and still have room for more. No, the action was to obscure him while affording him a clear view of both in and outside the shop for people paying undue attention. After a moment finding nothing, a simple 'Let's go.' and the cloaked man was off at a brisk walk again. There was no hesitancy for where to go, or a pause for Chariot to get his bearings.

With one glance back out into the rain sodden street, Strength shrugged his shoulders and followed his partner into the mall, unable to shake the feeling that something was up. Maybe it was losing the jump in the coffee shop, or Chariot's twitchiness, or even the underlying distaste he felt for the way the missions were being handled around here, but then, maybe it wasnt. When it came to his own intuition, Strength trusted himself implicitly, despite knowing full well he'd despise someone else for using 'just a feeling' as a justification.

The mall was far from busy, but far from the ghost town Chariot had suggested it'd be. Aware that Chariot was doing the same, Strength settled into the same, familiar pattern of easy stride, head on a swivel, eyes flicking across each knot of people, each storefront, looking both for their contact, not that he knew what he was looking for, and for the out of place. Anything odd, strange, anything that could become, as he'd once heard it euphemistically described, a situation.

"So." It wasnt really a question, his tone flat and low, demanding response. "We're here. Now what."

Pausing at the base of the stairs to the second floor, Chariot carefully watched a pair go past. 'As soldiers, we're here to await contact.' There was no give in the words of Chariot. Turning to regard the man with him, Chariot's smile, pasted on for the passers by, was wiped away. 'I thought it was understood that trust with information should be earnt.'

Through blind obedience, or if not that, at least measured and patient obedience. 'Anyone with information regarding us should find us fairly easily. Where as the contacts we work with specialise in fading into the background.' As if this explained the entire situation, Chariot turned away again.

For a long second Strength gave no indication or response to the Chariot, just kept the same steady flat gaze on the other man, then nodded with a curt, 'Understood."

Trust for information should be earned? They were, as low level 'soldiers', not privy to information he'd assume was obvious for completion of their objective? Despite his misgivings increasing with every new word, every piece of information given, Strength kept quiet. From the other man's reaction either he wasnt used to being questioned so incessantly, or Strength had pushed simply too far. Showing no emotion beyond stolid readiness, he placed his back at the wall and waited for their contact to show.

Chariot nodded once to himself, satisfied by the other's response, and went back to casually surveying the surrounding people. The escalator above, hardly teeming with people at all, suddenly had a bit of a commotion as someone went barrelling down it, drawing the eyes of the surrounding people. The older man in the business suit merely muttered at everyone in a hostile manner as he barrelled past them.

For those not just watching the stairs, the man that paused right next to Chariot might have been an interesting person to watch. Wide brimmed hat and rather casual clothes masked his figure quite well, though his face was fairly visible. After watching the spectacle for a moment, he nodded at the two Itex people and continued on his way.

Chariot, meanwhile, now had his hands in his pockets while watching proceedings. 'We wait until another potential contact could give us information in some way before we move.' Resisting the urge to look at the written instructions that he'd received in the commotion, he left it in his pocket as he waited.

Before long, as the preacher with the pamphlets moved past, forcing one each on the pair, Chariot put the useless article inside his coat as he motioned for the duo to move to a more isolated place.

It seemed that the boy was now escaping the scene. However, he did not leave unscathed. One of the feathers connected with his skin and the sight of blood made Thia feel an amount of guilt. Still remembering the earlier events, she justified it as something deserving for his likes. Which goes to say, the woman who seemed to suffer a certain amount of anonymity both in the mind and presence appeared to be bothered. Thinking about it, this woman might have saved her yet, it does not change the fact that she destroyed her phone from the very beginning.

Fortunately, Cala was not able to linger on the emotions of irritation as the mysterious woman who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere was now before them. Along with that, the woman had a question. She would have taken the initiative to answer the query. Unfortunately, she was not also certain what was going on or why did she ever think to intervene on the matters where magic and mumbo jumbo ruled the possibility of all things.

Caine looked behind him, pausing in his run and listening. There didn't seem to be anyone following him. Now was the time to stop this infernal bleeding, give an end to the trail that would lead them to him. He could spare some more time using this wasteful power, but he was getting tired, from lack of energy and lack of stamina. Blood loss wasn't really a factor; it was a minor wound. Caine brought out his sketchpad and drew once more: a roll of bandages, used to cover his wound, stop it from bleeding, and above all stop that blood from falling. With a gasp, he drew it out and applied it, getting rid of the excess as ink, mixing with water and new-fallen blood on the ground. His time here was running out, and this disastrous mission would have to be completed soon. There'd be no more interruptions. Not if he could help it.

The bleeding stopped, Caine continued a ways, stumbling here and there in his fatigue. But that magician... who was she? Not that it mattered... Far enough from the trail, he muttered "finis" and took out the writing tablet and headphones Kaden had instructed him with, that he'd used so often before. For the second time that day, Kaden signed into the Itex voice chat and spoke. "Moon, signing in. There were t- two complications. Neither of them Itex. And I can't say much about your messenger. Or the rest of our crew... Hanged Man and Hermit never showed. I have the package, though. Where to?" Someone had to be on, right? Someone who knew what was happening, what to do? Because Caine sure didn't, and his time here was running ever shorter.

Freak number two? What was that supposed to mean?

Her eyes flickered towards the calm smile that the second mortal wore. Somehow she had the feeling that she was being mocked. Yes, somewhere behind that smile was a joke at Crow's expense. She balled her hands into fists, colorless sparks flying from her fingertips. Then, taking a step forward, she licked her pale lips. Her voice came out absolutely neutral. "What do you intend, mortal?"

Her fingers twitched again, violently. It just didn't feel right not to be slinging arrows and pulverizing the bodies. But, with the hole in her mental facilties, she needed some cannon fodder. Who knew what was going on right now? And there was something important going on.

"Mortal?" the stranger echoed, before giving into a bout of snickering. Spinning on her heel, she turned away from the masked woman, throwing out her arms. "Ahh, Throme really has become more interesting!" the mere human exclaimed, laughing all the while. Glancing back, she added, “I don’t ‘intend’ to do anything. I’m more of the spontaneous sort, myself.”

Lies. She never acted thoughtlessly.

“Do tell me though. What do you intend to do, hm?”

Reckless and sometimes, stubborn, those were Thia's ever present traits. However, she was not an idiot not to to understand the there is trouble brewing between the lady with red shoes and the woman with magic syndrome. She was certain things could get ugly in an instant with one wrong move. Still, she had no more energy to interefere with anything at all. The recent events had drained most of her spirit and more importantly, she was too cold and too battered to care anymore. Why was she here anyway? This was not her jurisdiction.

"I will leave you two now but I suggest you two do the same."

In the distance, one could heard the closing sound of sirens. It would proper to conclude that those were police cars and all. Cala did not find that odd as they did cause some ruckus with all the explosion and all. Even with the falling rain that could be used to mask such noises. There ws still a distinctive sound to differentiate it. Adding to that ongoing increase of crime rates in the city, the citizen and its security forces are quite vigilant nowadays. Turning her back at them, she walked away but not before stopping midway.

"I hope to never see all of you again."

After stating that, Calla continued on her way without looking back. She definitely would need to take a bath and to remember never to interfere with anything again. This was going to be the last time she would have an encounter with Masks and such things called magic. She returned to the pathway above and continued on her way wanting to take a cab, After all, she had no more energy left to walk towards her home.

Yes. The mortals were really laughing at Crow. Her white eyes narrowed as she took in the two females that dared tell the resident magician what to do. What courage. Stupid courage. She refused to answer, merely -

The damn apprentice.

It was all his fault.

So there had to be some magic going on, if he was able to escape without anyone remembering anything. With balled fists and pursed white lips, Crow twirled on the ball of her foot away from the red-shoed stranger. How would she be able to find him now? He had left with something - something important. There had to be some clue that would lead straight to him.

All the same, before she made her escape, she took careful note of her two new 'acquaintances', committing to memory their faces, their figures, their movements... because in a small world and an even smaller city like Throme, one never knew who they'd run into again. She'd learned to be careful.

With that done, the stranger merely gave a mock salute before darting off away from the pier.

Darn this blasted rain. Wiping off glasses every so often was beginning to be a large pain. Where was this pair headed on such a rainy night? Hopefully somewhere interesting, or this would be all for nothing. Arthur continued to follow after the two, hoping they wouldn't notice him, clutching his briefcase under his umbrella to keep it safe. The good news was, they were headed under cover: the mall in Lil' Maybelle, it was. Shaking off rain as he ducked through the entrance, Arthur collapsed his para- no, umbrella and wiped off his glasses once more.

Arthur Yes, that's who I am turned around, looking through the crowd and his watchless hand now and again. Now and again, his eyes alighted on the pair. And passed over them again before returning in another pass. Unless they suddenly sped up quickly, she... he wouldn't lose them in the crowd. What were they doing? Waiting at the stairs? Boring. Waiting again... would this night ever get interesting? Jack would respond. Eventually. They'd do something. Hopefully.

It was too far to hear them or see their expressions. Hopefully something would happen that she could see, but until then, seeing was all that would happen. Karim drummed her fingers on her- Snap out of it! Amy was getting cross again because... right. Arthur looked at his watch in impatience and shifted from foot to foot. Ugh... waiting. He had things to do and places to be, but it would have to do. His gaze scanned the crowd again, and he waited...


Dek looked upward at the face of the mall, pausing for a moment before following Strength and Chariot into it. He waited for just a moment, reflecting on nothing before heading into the mall. The automatic doors slit open noiselessly, allowing the noise, smells, and sights from the inside of the mall to crash over him in a gentle wave. The faint smell of various foods combined with the dull hum of a massive crowd. He gave a slight smile, imagining all the different ways he could make these people trample over themselves in terror.

However, lost in his imagination, Dek almost lost sight of Chariot and Strength. For the first time in his memory, a small knot of terror wormed its way into his stomach. Fear of the repercussions from the Itex higher ups if he failed the assignment. That thread of fear vanished in an instant when he saw the two again standing at the foot of a large staircase, seemingly idle. He pouted. More waiting? This is bull. There's nothing to do but wait and wait and WAIT nowadays. I want the masked to come and play! He hummed as he considered how to best attract their attention.

Nothing came to mind for the moment, so Dek decided to lean back against a decorative column and just scan the crowd for anyone acting odd. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he just stood there and waited. I HATE waiting. He scowled at the crowds, occasionally sticking his foot out to trip someone with a large amount of parcels and laughing as they tried to recover before inevitably falling on their face. Commotion from near where the two last were caught his attention. Some guy barrelled down the staircase, knocking people to their feet in some kind of rush. Dek laughed at the man's attitude, then something caught his eye.

A man seemed to be acting strangely, constantly fidgeting with his glasses, wrist, and clothing. The man was shitfting from foot to foot. Dek almost dismissed the man as a nervous wreck waiting to run to the bathrom when he realized that the man's nonchalance was just a sham. To the passerby, he seemed as normal man, just busting for a piss. When Dek stared at him again, he noticed the man's head movements were calculated, even occasionally lingering on Chariot and Strength. Now there's something you don't normally see. Finally, something to do! To hell if he's Itex or Masked! I'm so BORED. He pulled his hood back slightly, allowing the single glowing red eye to just catch the light enough to shine menacingly. A few people in the crowd noticed the sinister glint and gave him a wide berth. Others who bumped into him had their retorts die in their throats when they saw him before scurrying away. He strode directly towards the strange man, hoping he'd see him so he could glimpse the face he made when he saw Dek.


Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Watch, glasses, shifting feet. Boring, boring, boring waiting. They were still doing nothing, and no one else seemed to be approaching. Arthur shifted his feet again and turned his gaze... right into the glowing red eye of someone approaching. What? Arthur dropped his briefcase in surprise, his mouth dropping open in surprise, shock, and... well, just a little bit of fear, no words coming out. The briefcase fell to the floor with a thud... Yes, it thudded. And hit the floor. Briefcases are supposed to do that, right? Karim? Yes, it must have hit the floor with a thud, even if it was muffled by the crowd. Shaking away the shock, Arthur glanced back at his watchless arm and then everywhere but that man.

So they did come. Liesel was right this time... Where's that Jack when we need him? That man, he wasn't- he's not coming at me, is he? What madness was behind that red- Karim! Right. Behind the illusion, Karim gripped a knife in her suitcase-hand. Itex wouldn't cause trouble, not much anyway with such a large crowd around. Right? All that was needed was to hold out until Jack arrived, escape was possible, or the pair did- He knows. He knew he was on to them. This third knew he- she was watching the pair. How didn't matter, but he knew. Somehow.

Escape rose in importance. She knew two, no, three, of them, and they didn't know her. Yet. And time was running out. It would be best to escape for now and let Jack handle the rest. Karim- no, she was Arthur - Arthur looked up to see what the man was doing, to find some escape if it was at all possible. He wasn't fit to fight this man, at least without backup, even if the other two weren't nearby. The red-eyed man hadn't reached him. Yet.

Dek slithered through the crowd towards the twitchy man, occasionally shoving hard to create a bit of a distraction. First impressions are most important. In no time at all, he had wound his way to the man. As he drew up to the twitcher, Dek drew a knife from his coat and gently pressed it into the man's side. He cleared his throat just enough to get his attention over the obvious point of the knife. He spoke just loud enough for the man to hear clearly, but not loud enough for the surrounding shoppers to hear.

"Good evening, friend-o! I see you're getting a good look around here, it's a lovely day for people watching, isn't it? But I'm sure you aren't REALLY people watching, right? If not, what ARE you doing?"

A knife. A KNIFE! Who in their right mind would just walk up to someone and put a knife to their- Oh, wait. This is the person holding a knife in her- his hand just in case. Still, that's just so terribly rude of him, wouldn't you say? Karim, he's talking to you. Who? What? Oh... right... him. A KNIFE!!! Really! The nerve!

Arthur turned to the red-eyed man, shaking visibly. "Ah! What are you-? Umm... I don't know, you know? Ah! Calm down, there are people watching! Ummm... wouldn't want to cause a commotion, I'm sure? Anywho, my- my boss, you know, he- he set up some... meeting of sorts here? I was to meet hereabouts, you know? But, you see, I'm still here after waiting this long. I was to meet someone, but they've not shown, you know? Hence the watching! This meeting's, well, it's- it's rather important, you see? Umm... you do see, right? Can you- you know, can you be on your way? It's just, umm... well, I've answered your questions, you know? Aha." This was said softly, of course. Others weren't to hear. Important business, you know? ;)

Dek chuckled menacingly while shaking his head. "You just don't get it. Not at all. Not. At. ALL." Dek pressed the knife further into Arthur's side to punctuate his remark, but not enough to pierce the skin. "You see, I've never been the trusting sort. As for causing commotions, well, you mistake me entirely. I quite like causing commotions. You could call it... a hobby. Or my specialty. I've gotten quite good." Dek turned to look at Arthur, fully revealing the massive red eye, and the utterly blank other side of the mask. "Now, you don't mind if I enlist you for some company do you? I'm feeling rather bored while I wait for my friends to finish their meetings. Unless you're wanting to cause some commotion, in which I'd be more than happy to oblige you." Dek just stared, waiting for the inevitable response.

"A-ah!" The knife was poking. Commotions? Company? All Karim was looking for was a way out of this mess... This man was definitely Itex, and he was with that other pair. They were here for some meeting, or so it appeared, and somehow this monster had caught her gaze. Ugh. Why must stealth be so... stealthy? Can't I just... stab him? Just once? No, not yet. Yes, I know. Meanwhile, Arthur cringed back from the knife, gripping his suitcase harder, and began looking around frantically, licking his lips and obviously nervous. "Uh, sir... Uh, sure... Uh... as long as it's... just company, right? You know, no commotions. Terribly, terribly difficult to sort out, you know? Umm... ahah? Could you maybe? Umm..." Arthur trailed off, looking down at the knife to his side, and continued to look around frantically. For an escape. Maybe for information. Was the other pair still just waiting? How boring...


Chariot, beginning to lead the way out of the main thoroughfair, paused as an almost invisible haze spread across the mall. 'Keep an eye out. There's someone in here with us.' He didn't need to say the word 'Masked' to emphasise what he meant. The subtle mental pressure that was little more than a buzzing fly to the mental bastion of the Chariot hovered with the accompanying haze.

Turning back to the direction he was heading, towards a small corner shop that seemed to be rather unfrequented, which sold sports equipment, Chariot tried to blend into the surrounding crowd, even though his partner's aura made that rather difficult..


Axilious almost slouched into the mall. He'd almost lost his way after the annoying braggart of an Itex agent escaped his clutches, and he was far from dry. His flambuoyant clothing almost dribbled all over the floor beneath him as he looked around rather curiously, trying to find either the Joker or another annoyingly riddled code to tell him where she'd gone haring off to this time.

Despite the unusual appearance and sopping clothes, most people passing him seemed to not even take a passing glance at the soaking figure or even at the world around them. Most seemed to be losing a grip on reality, though a few minds broke the haze to realise on some level how inappropriate the man was and that they were doing nothing at all anymore. At least it wouldn't seem like a big deal to them in a while. Shaking himself as if to dislodge the cold placidness, he strode boldly into the mall, an obvious figure to anyone whose minds broke the numbing haze.

Grunting assent at the Chariot's instruction, as if watching the crowds wasnt what they'd both been doing for the last few minutes, Strength followed, a apace behind, still reflexively quartering and scanning the mall as they moved. He glanced towards the easternmost entrance as they passed by, took another few steps then hesitated. Something was wrong. A slow blink, brow furrowing minutely as he realised that, despite looking towards the doors, he hadnt actually seen anything.

"Wait."

The instruction was barked, he was already turning back the way they had come. Confused, Strength paused, tilted his head a fraction to one side at the sight of the sopping wet man, dressed almost as if he'd stepped out of a romance novel, walking into the mall. Out of nowhere the guy seemed to swim out of focus, the air shimmering like a desert mirage and Strength squinted, eyes twitching. It last barely a second and only took a moment longer to realise that no one else was paying the guy any attention either, and from the looks of the him, swaggering forward without a care, barely even looking at anyone he passed, it was obvious he didnt expect them too. Which was odd. Dressed the way he was, he'd have drawn attention in a carnivale parade.

"Something's up." Strength turned to face the Chariot, indicated the anomaly with a nod, watching him move in the mirrored glass of the doors. "That guy, Mr Ren Fair. You know him?"


Dek almost rammed the knife home in the man's side, but a strange sensation prevented him from doing so. Something was "off". A feeling of absurdity hung in the air, making the hairs on the back of his neck begin to tingle and stand on end. He swept his gaze over the crowds, trying to find something to clarify the sense of wrongness. He couldn't see anything wrong at first. The masses were too busy going about their lives to care at all, as if they didn't feel anything at all. They didn't even notice someone just sitting in the crowd with a fog machine on full blast. Hold on. Fog machine? What jerkoff brings a fog machine into a mall? Dek looked back and forth to see if anyone else noticed the fog, but nobody seemed to notice the fog.

Dek's suspicious were roused immediately. He stared at the fog, trying to see what it was hiding. After a short moment, the fog dissappeared and the most bizzare dressed man was just standing in the middle of the crowd. Nobody noticed him at all, bizzarely. "Hey. Bud.", he said to his hostage, poking him with the tip of the blade to get his attention. "Do you see the fog?"

The knife was poking into his side. Arthur's glasses were slipping. He pushed them up, and then noticed a strange quiet around the room, as conversations were momentarily cut off. His gaze slipped around the room, and passed a patch of... haze. Ahaha! Finally made it, did he? Quickly, the haze solidified into Axilious, and Karim almost laughed! ...until she remembered just where she was, and the knife poking into her side...

The start of a smile disappeared as Arthur's eyes glazed over. For a short while, there was nothing, then a pain in his side as the knife pushed farther, and the end of a voice "-see the fog?" Arthur started. "Ah! Uhh... hmm?" As he looked for the fog this other man spoke of, his eyes glazed over once more, and he became motionless. Hahaha! Go after Jacky, and leave me alone! I'm as useless as these other normals, you know? Hahaha!

Chariot, Axilious, Dek, Karim, Strength ; Sagaro Mall

Post written by spudjohnson, Alasund De'astio, Harlequin Smile, and Witless.

"He's not ours." Chariot tensed, his right foot stepping out as he settled back into a battle-ready stance as he turned to check who Strength was referring to. "If he keeps this stasis on the civilians he could cause a situation." But there were also other concerns that could be dealt with quickly using this to their advantage. "Hold him or force him to leave for a moment, I'll retrieve the target." As much as his instincts yearned to fight, and self-control wavered under the chance to bring blade against a proper enemy of some bent, he had a mission to complete. And his last failure Judgement had been sure to burn rather solidly into his memory. Stepping back, Chariot turned to swiftly make his way through the currently unobservative crowd.

"Boring boring boring." Oh yes, how boring this had been so far. As he waved magnaminously to the various subjects around him who were so awestruck by his presence that they had seemed to lose grip on reality, Axilious continued to scan the floor for the almost customary piece of paper left by his erstwhile partner. "How a lord must bow before the demands of his people." The dramatic muttering continued as he finally found something in the crowd that was not quite like the other things. The figure which seemed to be talking almost scandelously closely to a normal civilian against a pole, it didn't matter that both were male, as Axilious had no prejudice to speak of for the peasants sexual relations, squinted in his direction and seemed mostly uneffected by the fog around. "Greetings." Axilious held his left hand carefully, ready to summon his weapon at a moments notice. "Have you perchance seen a rather eccentric lady pass through here?"

Power. Yes. Sweet power. Oh smell its intoxicating aroma. Oh GOD I want to fight them! Fight fight fight! Dek shook his head vigorously in an attempt to dissipate the bloodlust that boiled at his core. It was then that he realized that Renaissance Man was addressing him and his hostage. Dek cocked his head quizzically, then cracked his neck. "Well! Mr. Mist! Where have you come from then, ey? Time portal? Time traveler? Or do you just enjoy looking like a peacock? Nonono, you enjoy the grandeur. Nobility then! Maybe. I don't really care." Dek shifted Arthur slightly to the side so he could address Axilious properly, all the while keeping the knife tip in Arthur's back. For now.

"Now! Strange woman.." The volume of his voice dropped slightly as he feigned trying to remember something. "Strange woman strange woman strange woman strange woman... NOPE! No strange women about here, Just these cattle! My newfound friend and I were just people watching. Nothing too serious, mind. Just observing these ignorant, pathetic, idiotic masses that are so intent on buying new shoes or clothes or whatever else they waste their money on. They never want to do anything more with their lives. Just consume, and consume, and consume. It's like they get some sick high off of it. It's really quite strange. Isn't it, friend-o?" Dek looked at Arthur, hoping for a response. When he saw his eyes glassed over, a petulant tone crept into his voice. "Aww. Look at that. Your little parlor trick seems to have taken out my only friend here. And we were going to have SUCH fun in this crowd. A little slicing, a little dicing, and a LOT of panicking! But, alas, he's gone for now." Dek pushed Arthur roughly towards a concrete support pillar in hopes of knocking the man out. He spread his hands widely, flourishing the knife before hiding it in his coat with a bit of slight-of-hand. "Well, looks like youuuuuuuuuuu're my new play-mate! How do you wanna play, mister? Nice and easy?" Dek held his right hand out to the side, preparing to bring his axe-hammer into existence. "Or will we do this the rough and tumble way?"

"Understood." Already moving before he'd even finished the single word, Strength strode across the plaza towards the oddly dressed man. Whatever it was the guy was doing, it was getting worse. Most of the people in the mall were stumbling around with glazed expressions on their faces, looking at nothing in particular. Damn right it would cause a situation if it carried on. Not often a few dozen people fall into a hypnotic trance in the middle of a public place. The tiniest of smiles crossed his face as he moved towards his target, who seemed more than preoccupied with a pair of guys standing close to at the edge of the plaza.

Obstruct or remove target. That was an objective he appreciated. Obvious. Straightforward.

Easy.

Another step and the smile was gone, replaced only with calm readiness as he ran through an automatic checklist, scanning over the entire situation. Target currently unarmed, seemingly unaware of incoming. Focused on pair of men, standing too close together. Threatening body language from the taller of the pair, pinning the other to the wall, one arm flourishing a blade before concealing it in the jacket he was wearing. Strength narrowed his eyes. The guy who had his back to the wall was the same one that had rushed past as he and the Chariot had been waiting earlier. It could be coincidence, but that was unlikely. Especially as the newcomer, the one who was playing with everyone's minds, had gone straight for them.

He flexed hands, confirmed they were free from possible restraint and prevention of weapon retrieval, both arms relaxed and ready. Approaching at an oblique angle, coming in from slightly behind Axilious so that he had to turn to face him, and wouldnt be able to keep the other two men, and presumably the Chariot, in view whilst looking at Strength, he stopped maybe fifteen feet away from the group and took a breath, projecting his voice so that all of them would hear him.

"Excuse me." A seconds pause to let them register him. "Mall security. Someone mind telling me what's going on here?"

Obvious gambit, and whilst he looked vaguely like a security guard in dark jacket and heavy boots, it was more than obvious to any intelligent onlooker that he really wasnt. But then, that wasnt the point. The point was to break flow. To get the attention on him, so that Chariot could do whatever it was he was going to do. And for that it would do just fine.

A shock of pain shook Arthur out of his daze, and he looked up to see what was happening around him. A pillar was to his side, obviously what he had been pushed into. His assailant was in front, turned to address another person... Karim's eyes widened in recognition as she noticed the Jack standing there confused. And they widened further as she saw one of the pair she had been watching walking toward them. Mind racing, she tried to think of a way to get her identity away to Jack without attracting too much attention. What to do, what to do... there wasn't much time...

Aha! Karim left a flower, a rose, against the pillar as she scrambled back out behind it. That should be enough of a hint, if that Axilious would take the chance to spot it. Message given, Arthur scrambled back to his feet and sputtered out, "Who- who are you... you... who? Get- get away!" And the backward steps turned to a full run, through the still still crowd, toward the area where the second had walked from, where the third was hopefully still waiting. These people were important, and Liesel would be furious if they let them out of their sight! Let Jack take the other two... Arthur didn't turn to see what was going on, but he could hear someone saying something about security. This would have to be done quickly, it would seem.

Axilious smiled almost cruelly as he regarded the one who had just threatened him. "Why would you like to know? I think that if you--" Suddenly cut off by multiple sources of sound, Axilious swirled irritated at the more self-important sounding one, leaving the peasant to scramble away in fear at the awe of the lords. "You attempt to beguile us peasant." Formal, blunt, and putting the villian down with his very demeanour, the audience must even now be booing at the man who dared interrupt the protagonist's witty remark. A very fast glance easily told him that he wasn't regular security, and mall security isn't ever likely to go undercover. Which meant that this was a plot twist, putting a third variable into the already explosive cauldron of antagonist and protagonist. "Explain yourself."

Haughty, the gesture demanding obeisance was calculated just right, the dramaticism adding flair to his movements as the shimmering energy, very distinctively showy calling of his weapon, formed into the double bladed staff that was his hallmark. "I am to be unseen. Let me make it so." The grave pronouncement of the good guy being forced to do evil. The performance was about to start.

"Hmm. So we're going to go there, already? Really? Fine by me!" Dek shrugged his hood back and revealed his masked face. At the same time, he held his right arm out above his head, mentally invoking his weapon into existence. The shadows around Dek all shot towards his hand with such force that they moved the clothing of the people around them. The shadows formed a midnight black sphere above his hand before stretching into the sillouhette of his weapon, then materializing into existence. Dek slowly brought the hammer towards the floor before firmly planting the base of the handle on the floor. The tile beneath the handle cracked slightly under the weight of the hammer-axe and the force of his strength.

"So." Any trace of levity in Dek's voice had evaporated, leaving a cold emptiness that verged on murderous. "Where do you want to begin, whelp?" Rather than waiting for a response from his now-opponent, Dek spun his hammer and unleashed an Arc of Chaos directly at Axilious. Without waiting for the Arc to hit or miss Axilious, Dek gripped the chain surrounding the handle of his weapon and threw it towards the floor. The chain unwound from the haft with a mind of its own. Instead of piling on the floor, it sank into the ground as if it were water. Nothing happened for a short time before chains burst out from the shadows of various objects surrounding Axilious. The chains, hovering in midair, seemed to absorb the light before streaking off towards Axilious. Deep down, Dek hoped that his new friend would dodge the otherworldly chains. It would at least indicate that he'd found some real fun for a time.

The situation escalating fast, Strength took a half step back, raised both his arms, fingers curling in until his fists were clenched tight, ready and willing to summon his own weapons at a moments notice.

"Explain myself?" He raised an eyebrow at Axilious, utterly calm and rational despite the chaos erupting around them all."I think it's you that should be.."

Whatever it was he was going to say was cut off as the other man, the one who'd summoned a giant, and to Strength's eyes, completely impractical axelike thing, swung it outwards, a wave of something that twisted in the air like shimmering heat erupting from its blade, aimed at the other man. The dodge was reactionary, two quick steps back and to the right, even though it wasnt aimed his way. The summoning of the gauntlets was just as instinctual. A moment after he willed, metal wrote itself into existence, curling first across his knuckles then shot backwards, twisting so close to flesh it was like a steel tattoo that covered his entire arms in dull grey up to both elbows.

He kicked forwards, aiming for the taller man, Dek, the one who seemed by far the most threatening. With no strategy in mind save simply ploughing into and through, he was content just to pit himself against the situation and see what came of it. Lips peeled back in a grin that came just from the joy of joining battle, he amended the ever present objective list that was running through his head.

Obstruct or remove targets.

Chariot, not looking back to watch Strength's progress, weaved quickly through the scattered people to disappear into a smaller shop at the back; one of the more specialised shops, this particular one in handbags and other personal accessories. Giving the note in his hand one more glance, Chariot tightened his fingures around the missive and let the words burn as he activated his own powers for a moment. A moment later he had retrieved the target package and had moved to secure it before moving back to mop up the situation if Strength hadn't cleaned it all up by himself. As he exited the shop, he glanced once around, not that carefully but enough to pick up the more casual of persuers, and moved towards the emergency exit at the rear of the mall.

Eenie, meenie, miney, moe, where'd that stupid third guy go? Karim looked through the crowd, searching for the last suspicious guy, the only one not confronting Ax. Where'd he go, where'd he go... Ugh, this endless searching and searching was getting boring. "Ah, let's end this charade..." as Karim reached up and pried off the Arthur mask. "Where oh where has the strange guy gone, oh where oh where could he be?" she singsonged and walked toward the back of the mall, keeping an eye out every which way for him. Suddenly, Karim spotted her target exiting a random shop, something about bags or somesuch. With that, she rang her bell, "Let the race... begin!" Karim took out two knives and began pursuit, hoping a good chase would arise.

Metal besought metal, and air parted for the true showing of power as Axilious brought his double bladed staff into existance, lips firm in a straight line of disapproval. "Axilious, brave knight, who stands against the tide of darkness." The words hummed with power as he stepped right into the wave of energy humming towards him, gritting his teeth against the flicker of energy attempting to twist his very organs against him. "He who guards the nine seals, and holds the highest of praises amongst the lords of the realm." As the chains darted towards Axilious, the stoic knight began to twirl his weapon, using it as a shield against the darkened objects. "Fear the guardian of truth, for the world is his battleground, to enact victory after victory."

As the Litany of Praise continued, Axilious felt the amazing powers buried within him envelope his body in a now visible almost-halo that emerged from the dust blond hair, and slowly seemed to envelope the rest of his body in an unearthly glow. The blade rotations stopped as the last chain was slashed and knocked away, but Axilious did not attack. After all, it would not befit a leading role to be drawn into battle first. "Fight for the judge of the Air and Earth." He proclaimed, taking no note of what the other man had said, but simply letting him move in to attack his assaulter.

Behind his mask, Dek's eyes narrowed to irritated slits. This wasn't who he wanted to play with. Didn't he realize one of his comrades? This must be someone newer, someone who hadn't met Dek already. Emitting a faint sigh, he shifted his stance so that he'd be able to dodge at the last moment. The hammer hung loosely in his arms, ready to move at a moments notice. Despite it's size and probable weight, it felt no lighter than a normal hammer to him, but to his enemies it felt much MUCH heavier. Just before Strength's fists impacted with his face, Dek rolled and evaded the strike. Dek landed on his feet, hammer held with one arm at his side. "Well well, sir. It appears you've made a bit of a mistake. The person you want to maim is up there", he pointed at Axilious, ",not me. I'm on your side, I believe. Unless you've defected. Then you're meat. But it doesn't really matter to me, a fight is a fight." He shifted his weight back slightly, with his weight over his rear foot and ready to spring.