Moonrise [M] (IC)

[Manic]

A safe haven for all walks of supernatural life

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Start whenever you guys are ready!

Do keep in mind, my darlings: "the entity" is evil, and it's spreading it's evil throughout the city. Think of it like an invisible blanket of malevolence, which will effect your character's thoughts and actions.

[Adjectives]

Aedan was thumbing through television channels, trying to pass the time, when he noticed the glare of the sunlight through the window was disappearing beneath his windowsill. He dropped the remote control on his leather sofa, his heart thumping a little faster as he made his way down into his basement. He always got that feeling before he made a run; maybe it was from the danger of selling the drugs, or being out at night amongst hungry Vampires or other dangerous supernaturals. Whatever it was, it wasn’t fear.

He reached the door to his basement; it stood in the downstairs corridor, near the kitchen and living room. There wasn’t anything fancy about it – there certainly weren’t any books to pull to activate it or statue heads to twist. But if anyone but him touched its worn down door knob, they would be in for an electrifying experience to say the least. He jogged down the rickety wooden stairs, fully aware of the time as he glanced down at his Armani watch. He stopped between one of the many rows of magical plants which crowded the room, illuminated by unnatural pale blue lights.

Amongst the rows of plants which were still nearing their fruition was a large old chest – one which belonged to Aeden’s grandfather from his days in the military. Just like most things below ground level of the house, it was spelled to open only for Aedan. Out of it he grabbed a few small plastic bags of enchanted cocaine as well as a bag of weed and shoved them in his pockets before heading out of the house and stepping into his shiny-new mustang, reversing it down the street and tearing out into the night.

Very shortly afterwards, the mustang rolled to a stop outside the local Vampire bar. There were Vampires moving in a small stream towards the bar – most would have just woken up – slowing down around the mustang to glance inside for humans. Sometimes Aedan forgot that this is their breakfast time; they must be starving. From the shadows surrounding the club appeared a human woman – she had long, dark hair and piercing blue eyes. At some point Aedan would have considered her beautiful, but her body was covered in scars and dark circles clung to her face as a reminder of sleepless nights. No doubt from nights spent with Vampires crawling all over her.

“Hey Aedan.” The woman cooed, her voice muffled behind the glass window. Aedan rolled it down and discreetly passed the woman a couple of the small white bags, which she quickly concealed somewhere down her top. “You feel like sticking around? It’d be kinda nice t-” The woman began, but Aedan wasn’t going to bother with the fang banger and quickly accelerated the car the way he came.

As he drove away through the winding road away from the Vampire bar, his heart skipped a beat. The all too familiar Portland Police car was driving in the lane towards the Vampire bar. The vehicle wasn’t half as powerful as his Ford Mustang, and the cops were most likely humans, but only an idiot wouldn’t be cautious of the cops. As he suspected might happen, the cop cars lights flared at the sight of the young man driving a Mustang and swiftly switched lanes.

If he had thought he could be apprehended for anything, Aedan would have shot off into the night, but he was sure that this would be a quick once-over and he would be let off scot-free. Aedan quickly pulled over the car to the side of the road, readying his drivers documents to show before glancing in the rear-view mirror at an approaching pair of police officers. Police officers with unusually pale skin. Aedan shoved the papers into the passenger’s seat and shoved the keys into ignition, but before he knew it he was being thrown out of the car and down a steep hill into the foliage off the side of the road.

He landed hard on his shoulder at the bottom of the hill, just short of slamming into a tree, giving a wince as the pair of Vampires bounded down the hill and landed nearby almost silently. “You know what I hate, Jim?” One of the Vampires said nearby, moving towards Aedan, his police boots crushing twigs beneath his feet.
“What’s that, then?” The other, Jim, replied curiously. He moved in from the other direction.
“These arrogant little punks who think they can drive around in flashy cars that stink of all kinds of illegal substances and think nobody is the wiser.” He spat, appearing before Aedan in a blur.
“I think we should teach him a lesson, don’t you?” Jim grinned, appearing beside his comrade in a blur, his fangs popping out from his salivating mouth.

As the pair of hungry Vampires approached Aedan, he tried to block out the pain and focus on his powers. There was no way in hell he would be able to outrun a pair of Vampires at night through a forest, especially with his only real means of escape up a steep hill. With the Vampires appearing before him in a blur too dark to see, Aedan turned his attention deep within to his magic. All magic inside a Witch is different; it depends on their bloodline, their personality and what they practise.

For Aedan, his blood was thick with destruction magic; he was his father’s son. It was second nature to him to tap into the magic inside of him and draw it up to his fingertips, transforming the energy into flames with only a thought. The flames leapt out of Aedan’s hand almost as if they were a sentient being, launching themselves at the Vampires with the speed of attacking snakes.

The Vampires fell away, their eyes wide in shock at the sudden ferocious attack. One of the flames whipped out at Jim, wrapping around his hand and evoking a scream from the Vampire – Vampires burned almost like paper. It was their only weakness that Aedan could take advantage of unless he was carrying a sword or silver chain. “Am I worth your trouble, officers?” Aedan yelled smugly at the officers, his adrenaline spreading through his body. Part of him, the destructive part which belonged to his father’s bloodline, wanted the Vampires to fight through the flames so that he might burn them to the bone. There was something so wild and enchanting about destruction magic that it made him want to keep fighting, as if there was nothing else beyond doing just that.

He heard some frustrated noises from beyond the amounting circle of flames before the officers ran off and the cop car disappeared. Aedan lifted his hand to rub his shoulder and let the flames sizzle out into the damp earth, leaving a circle of charred autumn leaves around him. He loved the smell of fire and the rush of adrenaline, but he was glad the Vampires left. Better alive and kicking than a missing drug dealer.

He stumbled back up the hill, careful not to slip and tumble back down, and fell into the driver’s seat with a sigh. He drove quickly, checking his rear view mirrors for any sign of the Vampires, considering how to go forward with the incident. He knew that the Vampire bar customers were a main source of income to him, so he couldn’t risk running into those Vampire cops every time he went there. He would need to deal with them – get them out of the picture.

But Vampires were some of the trickiest sons of bitches to take down. Fire could kill them eventually, but they’d never stand still long enough to let that happen. He decided he’d resolve it in the morning and before he went to Moonrise to drink away his worries, he’d drop off some weed to one of his human clients.
He drove into the town centre, parking the car on the curb of an expensive apartment building which looked like the entire thing would smash if he threw a rock at it. Aedan always found it amusing that the humans mused over how his weed was almost magical, when it literally was. Not that humans would notice magic even if they were smoking on it. Stepping out of the car, Aedan whipped out his cell phone and dialled the guy up.

“I’m outside. Hurry up and get out here, it’s freezing.” Aedan muttered, quickly hanging up again and folding his arms. He let some of his magic trickle along his skin, briefly heating it as he waited for the human to collect his weed.

[Naril]

Remy woke, smooth cotton of her sheets pleasant against her skin. Late-afternoon sunlight slanted in through the large windows, motes of dust dancing in the golden beams. She left her eyes closed, enjoying the moments before true wakefulness, her body relaxed and warm. At length, she stretched, felt the arm draped around her waist, a hand held softly against her stomach. She grinned a little, then shifted and put her own hand on top of it, fingers spread.

"Morning, Rem," A woman's voice said in her ear.

"Morning, Laine," Remy murmured, face still pressed into the pillow.

"You missed the whole day, sleepyhead," came Laine's voice, playfully petulant in Remy's ear, "Why do you stay up all night?"

"Mmph. You were up with me, and I didn't hear you complain," Remy said, her accent thicker than usual from sleep, "Besides, a lot of my customers are nocturnal." The hand slipped away from Remy's stomach, and the mattress flexed as its owner got up. Remy groaned and finally opened her eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the light.

She turned over and looked up at another woman. Laine didn't stand as tall as Remy but shared the same lean build, with long dark hair that fell in messy waves around her face. Large, green eyes, almost like a cat's, scanned the room as she picked her clothes off the floor with dainty motions, precise as a ballerina's. Remy, by contrast, hauled herself out of bed and snatched a bathrobe off its hook with all the apparent coordination of a landed fish. She actually managed to stumble on the hem of the robe as she tied the belt closed.

"There's coffee in the kitchen," Laine said as she tugged blue jeans on, amusement in her voice.

"I don't get on with mornings," Remy said, running a hand through her hair and yawning.

"You don't get on with mornings, or afternoons," Laine replied, ticking them off on two fingers. Her dark T-shirt dangled from the other three, "And from what I hear your…clients are lucky to get ten words out of you in the evenings. I don't think there is a time of day you get on with."

Remy mumbled something in French under her breath, and made her way to the kitchen. More windows let in burnished light and long shadows, and she used them to find a mug, then fill it with black, steaming coffee. She added cream and enough sugar to cover an anthill, then leaned against a countertop and took a long drink. As she did, the lights started coming on in her mind, either charged by the coffee or, possibly, by simple force of habit. She took another drink, slower this time, and blinked her eyes once or twice. Another day rolled out in front of her mind; plans, expectations, hopes. In the doorway, Laine slid into view, dressed as she had been the evening before, still a little disheveled but nothing that wouldn't pass for fashion in the city.

"Feeling human again?" Laine said, grinning.

"Don't start singing," Remy said, and set the mug down next to her on the countertop.

"I won't. This time," the dark-haired woman said, and smiled. She glided into the kitchen with an easy grace and poured herself a cup of coffee. She dropped a couple of sugar cubes into it, then took the spoon still rattling around in Remy's mug and used it for her own, the metal scraping and chiming on the ceramic. Laine took a drink, then swallowed and sighed, looking around the kitchen; at the cupboards, out the windows. Everything except Remy, whose scowl had begun to fade with the caffeine.

"Hey…Rem?" Laine said, sounding uncomfortable. She fidgeted, and spun a week-old issue of the Star around, looking down at the foreboding headline.

"Yes?" Remy picked up her mug and took another drink from it. Her eyes sought Laine's, but she seemed to be looking at the paper.

"I…I'm gonna leave town for a while, I think," Laine said, her tone pensive, "I think something bad's going on. Something I don't wanna be here for."

Remy sighed and pushed herself off the counter, moving to stand by the other woman, "I think you're right," she said after several moments of looking at the headline.

"I wish I could be like you," Laine said, "I wish I could…fight things. Make things." She leaned against Remy, put her head on her shoulder.

"I would rather you be safe," Remy said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle, "Then be in the middle of something, trying to do something brave."

"You could come with me," Laine said, at once hopeful and resigned, "Just go stay in a cabin in the Cascades for a month. Maybe two."

Remy thought about it. The idea tempted her more than she wanted to admit. She'd already stayed through a small handful of supernatural upheavals; pack disputes with the werewolves, a clan war between a couple of vampire groups, and even a full-on magical duel that had left part of her shop smashed. With a killer on the loose that not even the supernatural creatures could find, the future had taken a decidedly foreboding hue. The prospect of staying in the mountains for a couple of weeks with Laine seemed almost to be the more sensible option.

She had never known exactly what kind of supernatural blood Laine had, but she did know that the woman didn't have much. As a result, whenever something ugly darkened the horizon, she tended to leave the city, and come back when she thought things might have settled down. Sometimes it would be months or even years before she came back. Remy didn't think of Laine as a coward; only as someone who recognized their limitations. She knew that Laine felt guilty about that. She couldn't do much when the fangs came out, the swords flashed, and the bullets flew.

But Remy could. There may have been safety in obscurity, but Remy had left that veil behind long ago. She had real power, and perhaps more importantly, real control over that power. If it came down to it, Remy could help stop these things from happening. So, she shook her head, slowly, and slid a hand around Laine's waist, pulling her close.

"I can't do that," Remy said, her voice quiet, "I have too many obligations here."

"Got to live up to being the Toymaker?" Laine replied, tapping the paper, a tiny fleck of bitterness in her voice.

"And other things," Remy said, gently, and gave Laine another squeeze before letting her go. There didn't seem to be much more to say.

An hour later, Remy watched as Laine's green Subaru pulled out of the driveway, then drove off into the setting sun. The back, as usual, had been stuffed with camping and survival gear; enough to vanish for months at a time if she needed to. As the car disappeared around a corner, Remy couldn't help but wonder when she would see Laine again. She hoped that she would be all right. Then she took a deep breath and blew it out through her nose. She told herself Laine would be fine - she had always managed it before - and there were things to get done.

Remy picked her keys from a hook on the wall, then tucked a small wooden box under her arm. She made her way to the old, dark-red pickup in her driveway, a relic of a time long past. It thundered into life, and she backed it up, following the street in the opposite direction from Laine's departure, further into the city. The tires crunched over the asphalt as the radio played the top 40 for the week, and Remy found herself unconsciously singing along and tapping her foot as she turned down another street. As the truck trundled down another street, Remy caught herself and with an irritated look at the radio, switched it off.

"Damn Katy Perry," she said to herself, then pulled up to a two-story red-brick building in an older part of town. The tall, black door stood as it always did, the knob a tarnished brass. She felt the familiar web of magic around the place; a subtle diversion charm that tended to keep the normal folk of the city away. Remy let it brush away from her senses, then reached out and pulled the door open.

The large, open barroom of Moonrise greeted her, sparsely populated this soon after sunset, and it felt comfortable. Remy had wondered, occasionally, if that feeling might also be a spell, but she hadn't ever felt any underlying power behind it. The place simply seemed welcoming - or, at least, welcoming to people like her. She took a deep breath and looked around. A couple of werewolves she recognized, a vampire she didn't, and a couple of humans at the bar - including the one Remy wanted to talk to. She made her way across the wood floor, boots thudding under the music.

"Evening, Harper," Remy said as she set the box on the table, "You let Faraday have the evening off or something?" She set the polished wooden box on the table, a little bit larger than her hand with the fingers extended, "I finished your commission."

Remy flipped the top off of the box on little brass hinges. Inside sat one of her automatons, this one tiny, about the size of the first joint of her thumb; a little beetle. Parts of it seemed to drink the light with matte darkness, others shone with little flecks of burnished brass. Its wing covers were inlayed with some kind of dark violet material that shifted with blue and pink iridescence. The little creature sat in its own felt-lined recess in the box, another recess behind it holding a small brass key.

"You know," Remy said, giving the box a little poke toward Harper, "For what this is going to cost, you could have gotten quite an advanced security system in here."

[Hellis]

The Lacrimosa wasn't a club you went to for class. It as more place you flocked to if you had a morbid fascination with the macabre, the unusual and the men and women who wears it. Lacrimosa as a fang bangers ball, the gimmick so reat of a cover that vampire frequented the place even if they had their on territories. And all of it as under the watchful eyes of a relatively young vampire. Akira had arrived and made a real impact from the get go. He had hit the round running and aged a bloody ar on his fello kind. Why? He needed territories, and there was enough low blood vampires in the same situation as him to make a small army.

Raising said army had been the easy part. Feed them blood, give them the name of some exposed stronger vampires and promise them a place in the vampire society. Then watch the undead piranhas swarm his target before he himself He knew how to turn said piranhas on one another as well. Offer names, weaknesses and a bit of territory. Then watch them tear one another apart while he made real connections with the stronger vampires. To call him a parasite would probably be quite accurate, because he was a power player. He leached off the powers of others, used people as shields and weapons and constantly moved up the ladder by the use of trickery.

But back to the present, the vampire sat on the second floor of his club. His rather fril looking for was leaned back comfortably into a red leather sofa in the VIP section of the club. The table in front of him having a a bottle of unopened champagne. Around him sat vampires and humans both. The latter were personal blood dolls to the vampires present. Akira himself as leaned back against the thick leather, purring like a cat. A boy, somewhere around the age of 22-23 was resting his head on the vampires lap. His name was Nathaniel, Akiras latest toy. The boy, blonde and very pretty, seemed to be in a state of sleep. His master, Akira, as wide awake however.


“Let me get this right... You want us to pay you, so that we can take care of your problem” One of the vampires, a large black and bald man spoke out in anger. His name was Leon. One of his subodinates had stuck out on his on ang gathered a bunch of gangbangers to run his on dope dealing buisness. Leon himself as on of the many people involved in the drug scene. Specifically heroin, and many of the small dealers got their drugs from his organization.

“No. You will pay me. I will offer up the names of the three lowlifes that crossed the line and killed a girl outside my club yesterday. The lowlifes are YOUR problem. You should not keep a better eye on your subjects. There is rules to our life style.” Akira grinned at the Leo while running his had trough Nathaniel's hair. He was contemplating what to do next. The two Vampires were both older and more powerful then him. If he pissed them off, he could loose a lot of the ground he gained these past years. No he had to appease them. “I am willing to cut you a deal.”

“We are listening.” Leon grumbled. He was hard pressed to tae care of the problem himself. He didnt want to get pulled into the latest killing spress as suspect.

“I'll give you their names. And I'll give you the location of their safe house. “In turn, you dont hunt near the club again. And you don't mess with the stragglers under my protection. Like those cops of yours. Tell them to stay the fuck away.” Akira shapened his tone, making sure they got it. There was no need to push hard, but he had to make them know he wasn't someone they could just bulldozer.

“Fair enough Akira.. I'll have my boys know this place is off limit.” The smaller of the two spoke. The mans name was Miguel. He was dressed much like a wall street business man. His hair as swept back and of the two, he was the hardest to read. He glanced at his clock before looking back at Akira. A a smirk matching Akiras on son found itself to his lips.

“T'ill next time, Akira.” The big man grunted as he got ouf his chair, the sheer exertion of the chair being unloaded spoke volumes about the mans weight. Not allvampires were hot and slender. Leon was moer then a little overweight.

“Leon, Miguel.” He nodded two the two as they rose to leave. As soon as they ere out of sight he relaxed with a sigh. “God that was close. You can wake up now sweetie. Fetch me new girl. I am in mood for some latina.” He spoke with a lazy drawl.
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[Manic]

Blood filled her mouth, dripping past her cracked lips and down her chin as she grinned jubilantly at the waning moon.
Crimson soaked her shirt, coated her hands and arms to the elbows from tearing into the body lain before her, led along
it's path to death like a dessert cart presented to a dining table full of socialites. She sucked the juice from her fingers,
sweeter than any chocolate drizzle, crawling forward through the remnants that had been a man as Evil approached,
presenting one pale hand for her to take.

Harper struggled to wake herself, breaking into consciousnesses through roiling waves like a surfacing mermaid. She was shaking, sweat dampening her brow and she fumbled to stand, falling off her big white couch and onto the floor with a thud and a groan. She felt awful, as though she'd eaten cotton candy for dinner and chased it down with pop rocks and a large coke. She'd been dreaming about something, but she couldn't recall what. Her feet smacked together and she realized she'd passed out fully clothed. As she looked down the length of her body, she realized that wasn't entirely true; while she still wore dark jeans tucked into a pair of her favorite green boots, she'd lost her shirt at some point, her breasts threatening to tumble out of the simple black bra twisted around her torso. With a number of curse words and a lot of fumbling and maneuvering she managed to stand and straighten herself, tugging at the bra while shoving errant hair from her face.


"Well, then," she told her couch, taking a few shaky steps toward the kitchen, beyond which lay her bedroom door. Refuge. Behind it spells kept out...everything. It was the one place in all of the world where nothing and no one, not even Faraday, could invade her personal space. Faraday's room, which was more or less a walk in closet where he disappeared, was against the adjacent wall. The glowing yellow light that seemed to emanate from the very walls of the building - Faraday's magic - shone brightest around the door, so Harper knew he was inside. She gave it a hello pat as she passed, sending a little pulse of her own magic out, knowing her friend would feel her. The purple energy that Harper emitted swirled with the yellow, creating an ugly brown which pulled a smile to her lips, until Faraday's energy absorbed her magic completely. He had a way of making her feel better.


Harper slipped into her room, shutting out the rest of the world. It was dark and cool, her own energy filling the space and casting everything in a purple haze. In bright red letters the clock on her bedside table alerted her to the time, late afternoon. She decided to go man the bar, for something to do. She yanked a new shirt from her closet, simple black cotton which she slipped over her head. She caught her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall and grimaced. Her face was obnoxiously innocent. At the best of times it could come in handy when she needed to deceive someone, at the worst of times she looked like she was out of place, which really peeved her. With a grumble she reached for the blue Lucite bong on top of her dresser, filling her lungs with the last of her weed.


Harper exhaled slowly as she left her room and crossed her flat to the door that let out into the communal section of her home. There weren't many staying in the rooms at the moment, the only constant a young shifter girl who'd been there for about two months. Harper never could remember her name, but she worked as a barista down the block and brought Harper various flavored coffees on a regular basis, so she'd decided she liked the girl. Speak of the devil, as Harper descended the stairs the girl's bright blue eyes peered at her over the brim of an old leather bound book. The cover had no words, just a picture of a snarling bear. Harper was offered a small smile which she returned with a sarcastic salute as she took the next set of stairs two at a time. The THC was kicking in.

By the time she reached the club section of her home Harper was humming a tune that consisted of three or four songs, smooshed together. "Let there be music!" she shouted to the lack of people there so early in the afternoon. A song began blasting from every direction and it only took her a few chords torecognize it, singling along slightly off key as she danced her way behind the bar. "Black rum, sugar cane, dry ice, somthin' strange. La la la la la la la la la la la, la la..."



A handful of hours later, as the sun dropped below the horizon, Harper was extremely bored and debating dancing on the bar top, maybe taking a few shots. Getting plastered was never a good idea - she tended to conjure crazy things with too much ethanol in her system - but she could limit her intake. She had the patron bottle in hand, shot glass on the bar in front of her, when a familiar red head of hair wandered through her door.

"Evening, Harper," Remy greeted as she took a seat at the bar, setting a shining wood box in front of the shot glass The woman's energy was like shimmering copper, and she left remnants of it on everything she touched. Softly glowing footprints trailed behind her a moment before dissipating. "You let Faraday have the evening off or something? I finished your commission," she told her.

Buzz forgotten, Harper shelved the bottle and the shot glass disappeared as her forearms landed on the counter as a grin spread her lips. "Oooh, hey Rem. Goodies for me?" she asked, wide eyes sparkling in wonder as she took in the box. She was vibrating impatiently, waiting for Remy to present her with the little commissioned spy. "Faraday is upstairs in his room... I like to man the bar sometimes, he deservs time off too."

Remy lifted the lid to reveal the prettiest little beetle Harper had ever laid eyes on. It was barely the size of her finger nail, sucking in light like a black hole and reflecting it back in shimmers of blue and pink that overlapped into purple. It held a touch of Remy's copper glow, seemingly leaking from within. "You know," the woman said as she pushed the box toward Harper, "for what this is going to cost, you could have gotten quite an advanced security system in here."

A security system? Harper's nose wrinkled in disgust. "We're magic, Rem. Faraday and I are the security system. I know you like your mechanisms, but I find it much easier to just turn perpetrators into a frog and dump them in a local pond. And besides, don't those things alert the human police? What could they do against a rouge wolf or a pissy dark witch? Nada. People would just get ripped apart and I'd have to clean blood off my floor." She gave a little nod of her head, eyes still on her new toy. "Frog; much easier."

Harper's fingers hovered over the little automaton, wiggling about though she didn't yet pick it up. "Okay, I'm afraid to touch it," she admitted finally. It looked like it'd be crushed between her clumsy fingers. "Show me how it works?" she asked.

[Adjectives]

Five minutes went by and the coldness wasn't getting any better. Ten minutes went by and a sudden cold gust of wind lashed through Aedan's heating spell, igniting fresh anger. Where the fuck is this human? Aedan thought angry, stepping back to look up at the windows. No sign of him. "Fuck this..." Aedan muttered beneath his breath, letting go of his anger and stepping back into his car. He shoved the bag of weed under the car seat; he could pawn it off to Harper. She was a total pothead. He sped off from the apartment building, pulling up across the street from Moonrise a few moments later. It wasn't any adrenaline rush like the Vampire bar. Most Witches couldn't manage much more than a flame from their fingertips, Werewolves preferred the company of their own packs and the Fae were too rare and old to be caught at the local club. But there was something that seemed to attract him anyway; maybe it was just the fact that he could get served underage.

Aedan made his way across the street and through the bar; it wasn't so busy it was difficult to move, but busy enough that he could be pissy at drunken young purple-haired Witches stumbling in his way. He noticed Harper at the bar speaking to a red headed woman and perched himself next to the woman, noticing that it was Remy. He hadn't spoken to the woman more than a couple of times, but he'd visited her shop from her reputation alone for some amendments to enhance his athame's ability to channel power and resist damage. He glanced down at the small box in front of her containing the unnatural looking beetle and key, but it didn't really interest him enough to question her about it. "Cool beetle thing." He said, acknowledging her before turning to Harper. As he had expected, the woman was clearly drunk and giggly.

"Harper," He smiled, folding his arms and leaning forward on the counter casually. "The usual, if you can remember it. You wouldn't be interested in taking a little stock off my hands, would you?" Aedan asked, so sweetly he could be mistaken for an overgrown yet innocent nineteen year old rather than a magical drug dealer.

[Hellis]

Joel was dead beat tired. Sitting trough a pac meetin of lycans as about as relaxing as bathof adrenaline. Despite his best efforts, reasoning came last in the freal minded debate that had taen place. Twice had the male itch had to force the hostilities to sieze trough force. And oel could be forcefull indeed. Tice had he reinded hem of the oder of things, and that they had called him there for a reason. In the end thou. There was a new, accepted alpha in the pack and the two packs were now one big, albeit rowdy, pack. SO he had taen a cab from there to his apartment. The moment he approached the dorr, it lit up lie christmas light show for him. Someone had unsuccesfully try to break trough his spells. They could try all they like. His protection magic was some of the hardest to figure out in all of the city. He made I icredibly complex for a reason. His key clicked in the lock and the spellls dispersed for a second lettin him inside. His apartment as rather spacius. Hehad the money after all. He picked up a cigarr and took a long, happy drag from it. The nicotin kicked his brain in motion immedietly. He sitched out of his rather stoik looking combination of dresspants and a suit to a muscle shirt ant a pair of a black jeans. Then he complete the look ith a blazer and went back outside, ciggars in his pocket. He grinned at the lady ho rode the elevator down with him. She didnt have clue he was a witch.

“Should see how Harpers doing. And get me a drink while at it.” The german grey itch muttered as he strolled over to his car. The ride was rather event less, his head bopping to the classical music that flooded the interior. Wagner was a great way for him to get in a good mood. By the time he was at Moonrise, he was once more in high spirits. They were somewhat dampened by the young drug dealers presence. A parasite and violent such to boot. He sat don on the other side of Remy. Away from Aedan.

“Good evening Ladies” He grinned at Remy and Harper both “Aedan.” He nooded to the grey witch.

[Naril]

"Afraid to touch it? It's not quite that fragile," Remy said as she spun the little box back toward her.

She lifted the little machine out of its velvet-lined recess and set it on the back of her hand. In a moment, the thing came to life, its elytra flickering as it shook its wings out experimentally in a tiny blur of color. Then, with an almost exploratory deliberateness, it started to crawl along the woman's skin, clinging to the underside of her thumb as it wandered around. Its antennae waved, and each tiny, perfectly jointed leg slid along with an eerie, organic accuracy. Remy turned her hand over, the mechanical beetle now on her palm, still trundling along. It stopped in the middle of her hand, antennae still waving. In some quiet way, the little thing seemed alert. As though it were tasting the air for something, or sifting the bar's sounds.

Remy let the automaton sit and she turned in her seat, looking back toward the door as it banged open first once, then twice. She couldn't help but let out a little sigh as Aedan strolled through the door, and barely spared him a glance as he sat down to one side. The man grated on her nerves, with his syrupy attempts to hide behind a boyish persona. Remy felt like she needed to take a shower after talking with him for more than a few minutes. The second man Remy didn't mind so much, although she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when he took the seat to her other side. She knew Joel, though their paths didn't cross often. The handful of…disputes she'd had to settle had not involved the man's talents, although in retrospect they probably should have. He, at least, didn't set Remy's teeth on edge, and she tried to relax a little.

"You're letting them watch?" Remy said as she turned toward Harper, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, "Normally I'd charge extra for that." She turned her hand over as the beetle made its way across her palm, scooting over to the back of her hand. It fluttered its purple-blue wing covers again, and waved its antennae at Aedan.

"It's just what you asked for," the woman continued, looking at the bartender, "It can understand simple commands - like 'come here' or 'see what they're talking about' - and it can remember what it's heard for about half an hour. It can also remember what it sees for about ten minutes, but only what its eyes can actually make out. It doesn't record all the time, so you'll have to tell it to as well. Remember that if you want to get a good view of someone, from ground level you'll just see enormous shoes. Here, watch." Remy set the little creature on the bar top, and gave it a nudge away from the edge with the side of her finger.

"Show me the last thing you recorded," Remy said to the little beetle. It stumped around in a circle for a moment, then raised itself on its six tiny legs as far as they would go and spread the delicate wing covers, its gossamer wings unfolding to either side. Between them, a small lens glowed, then projected an image about the size of a paperback book into the air. Ghostly and a little pale, the image still clearly showed the inside of Remy's workshop, with tiny bits of debris scattered around the field. The point of view shifted up and down, left and right, as though the 'camera' were looking around, then it trundled forward, bobbing over a few of the larger pieces of debris in its path. After about fifteen seconds, the image winked out, and the beetle retracted its wings.

"It will be active as long as it's out of the box," Remy said, and scooped the beetle back into her palm, "And you shouldn't need to wind it. They key is to turn it 'off' - there's a hole right behind its head - so you can keep it in a pocket if you need to. It's a lot tougher than you might think - but don't go trying to break it. Oh, and it should only listen to you - and anyone else you tell it to listen to." With a deft motion, Remy set the beetle back into its recess in the wooden box, where it curled its legs underneath itself and went dormant.

"That should be everything," Remy said, and poked the box back across the bar again, "Payment to the usual account will be fine. And if you'd include a bottle of sangiovese from that new winery about 30 miles north, I might not charge you quite so much next time."

[Manic]

“Well, it looks like it is,” Harper said in hushed awe as the woman plucked the little bug from its velvet bed. Wings fluttered, looking like they belonged on a pixie, and the automaton began to explore Rem’s hand, clinging upside down as if giving gravity a delicate but equally effective ‘fuck you’. She watched, eyes wide, knowing the bug was one of the best purchases she’d made. It was resplendent. She couldn’t wait to play with her newest toy. Remy paused in her show as the door opened, watching Aiden’s golden mop weave through the growing crowd.

The young man settled in beside Rem, who didn’t exactly look enthused to see him. Harper didn’t share the woman’s dislike. She found the cute little blonde haired drug pusher to be quite fun. “Aiden,” Harper cooed, grinning at him. “It is cool,” she mused, leaning near him as he rested his arms on the counter. She turned to him when he ordered a drink, lips pursed, one delicately manicured eye brow rising. “If I remember?” She repeated with a shake of her head. “I’m not that far gone, kid,” Harper chastised, pushing herself up from the bar to find a glass and his preferred bottle of scotch. She set it in front of him and poured him a drink as he offered her a different form of green as payment. “Sure, as long as it isn’t magically altered.” She ruffled his hair like he was five over his sickly sweet tone and returned her attention to Remy just as the stool on the woman’s other side other side was occupied.

Harper’s grin for Joel was filled with all manner of devilish delight. Oh, wasn’t tonight turning out to be fun? “Joel,” she purred, reaching for a glass to offer the man the same top shelf scotch she’d given Aedan.

“You’re going to let them watch?” Rem asked with a smile and some joke about normally charging for such a show. Harper just shrugged, not really fearing either man knowing of her little spy. They had never caused any trouble under her roof, never done anything to rile up the customers or to offend her. They were friends, if ever a nutball like her could have any.

Harper listened as Rem described how her little spy worked, explaining recording times and commands, watching as it produced a flickering image of recorded video taken in Rem’s shop. Harper snatched up the box containing her beetle with a gleeful grin, snuggling it to her bosom a moment before slipping it onto a shelf below the counter. “Good to know. I’ll transfer the money tonight after work,” she told Remy, making a mental note to send the woman a bottle of the wine as well. “Can I get you anything while you’re here? My wine selection kind of sucks, but I have all the hard liquor you could-”

She was interrupted by the arrival of a stranger clad in a fine grey suit. A human stranger, upon first glance, asking after a room. "Human," Harper murmured. Holding up a finger she stepped away from the group that had clustered around her and pulled herself up and over the bar, jeans sliding over its slick surface. Her easy smile had fallen away, lips pursed in a thin line as she paused before the man and sized him up, reaching out to the little magic she could sense within him now that she focused. He was shorter than her even without the additional heels her boots afforded. As it was, she towered over him, peering down her nose.

“Not witch,” she murmured softly. “Not clairvoyant, exactly. You have magic blood, but no real power. You’re familiar with the supernatural.” Statement, not question. She could feel an echo around him, like a shadow of the things he had experienced. It was then she noticed the two guns the man carried, giving the pistols a laugh. “Those wont fire under my roof, love,” she giggled, giving them a little nod. “You can stay...if you can pay,” and judging by the duds, he could. “But you follow the rules. No trouble under my roof,” she said, voice like silk as her power wrapped around him in a caress as soft and comforting as a lightning bolt. She may have looked like a sweet young thing, but looks could be deceiving. Something told her this man knew that lesson well. “Capiche?”

[kizubu]

Another day in this fine country, his engine blaring loudly like some sort of wild beast as he made the road seem thirty yards instead of thirty miles. He was heading north on interstate 5, now used to driving down these roads by. It felt like half his life was spent travelling, though part of him was glad he got to spend the time with a beautiful piece of machinery. Mike was listening to his usual taste in music; classical, though he had a wide range of musical preferences, things that generally were associated with his mood. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting its orange rods across his car as he drove. It was a peaceful stretch of road, nothing too distracting, nothing to worry about. He had been driving for a few hours so when he saw a city turnoff he decided he'd stop there for a while. Besides, that's what he did; see a town or city, he always stopped to investigate, to see if there were any strange activities. Usually it was something simple like a spirit or ghost that was causing families or people who lived alone problems. Sometimes the problems weren't too severe, but then again, things could always escalate into something nasty. He never left without stopping it.

As he neared the city he began feeling energy. It felt like perhaps more than one supernatural entity, which perplexed him. He hadn't ever felt so much before in a single spot, not even a crypt or graveyard gave off as much activity as this town. So needless to say Mic took it upon himself to give this city a thorough check over. His foot stepped on the accelerator and he sped into the city before parking up. His eyes scanning around the place; nothing. Nothing was drawing him in, there was no particular feel that there was evil around right at this moment, but it left a sort of smell behind, that he could somewhat discern. He wasn't the best at finding a single spirit that was hiding, but a dozen or so he could certainly manage. Entering a local library, he asked for some old newspapers; reading up on the local history helped. Nothing was unusual up until recently, where there were strange deaths, some classed as suicides while other remained unsolved. He knew instantly that meant this town had a lot of activity. It seemed that he wasn't just going to be passing through like he had originally intended.

Leaving, he went back to his car, drove around to take in a few of the houses, inns, places that he thought could be interesting, only stopping when he felt a strange sensation passing a hotel sized building. He stepped out of the car to get a better feel, his brow lowered as he struggled to make out the strange feeling that was emanating off of the building itself. Protection auras he could easily identify, or, ones he was familiar with anyway. He wasn't aware of this particular one so he just stood there. "Something is off about this place..." He said quietly as he readied himself by holstering his two handguns.

He knew he had to check this place out. It didn't feel evil, at least nothing that he could sense. But maybe that was what the aura was? A sort of veil that protected whatever was inside from being sensed by people like him. He didn't want to risk that being the case, so he had his guns at the ready, licking his lips as he walked to the doors. He opened them. Everything about the exterior was normal, nothing scary or unusual about it. The interior was a very strange outlay. There appeared to be no front desk, a bar and other such things were on the bottom, like it was an ordinary pub. However the size of the building hinted to other usages. Maybe it was a pub but contained rooms on the upper floors? The other thing was it was quite busy for this time; it was only evening so he figured that some of these people were staying here. So he had assumed it was both by the number of patrons and the time that it was most likely a bar and hotel. Still it wasn't crowded. Thankfully, he thought to himself. He hated having to be stuck in a crowd.

But nothing was going to prepare him for the realization of the scene that unfolded before him. The energy he was suddenly presented with was extraordinary, he had never felt so many different types in one place before. Was this the cause of all that energy he could sense before he entered? Maybe, but none of these beings seemed to be in most cases very malicious. But then again, could it be the charm or whatever was placed on this building causing a disturbance with his power?

His eyes darted around the place, scanning for any sorts of ideas of who might be the owner. There were no obvious signs of who ran the place. Most people were about the bar and lounge area, he rubbed his neck and decided the best place to find the manager, since there was no desk, was to head to the bar. Since there were plenty of people there, he just thought it was the obvious choice for where the owner would be. Witnessing a group of four people, a young man, an older gent, along with two women. They seemed to be acquaintances by the way they seemed a little lax around one another.

So, Michael headed to the bar, greeting each person who glanced to him with a nod of the head before asking politely, "so who do I see about a room? Assuming that I am correct in thinking this is a hotel?" he said with his eyes scanning the people sitting before him, his arms relaxed down by his side. Being tense would only make you sloppy, you needed to be calm if you were going to draw quickly in a desperate situation. His level headed attitude had saved him a few times in the past.

Obviously the woman looking down on him was the owner, the way she was speaking made it painfully clear. She spoke of the supernatural like they were nothing out of the ordinary, that's what made this place exactly that. Brow lowering as she knew he was human, but had very little magical powers, how was she able to tell all that just from standing close to him? Was she a trained clairvoyant or something? Mic looked down to his guns with a furrowed brow, they wouldn't? Just as well as he didn't exactly have a plan for taking down all of these beings if he had to. Besides he wanted to relax now and again just like any normal being. Stay, that's exactly what he wanted, so a sly grin appeared on his lips as he nodded. "I can pay." His hand reached in casually as he pulled a thick wad of cash, three hundred dollars worth. "How long will I get to stay here for with this?" secretly he hoped it was a long time, he didn't think many of her patrons were loaded with cash, he was. But really the reason was because he had a lot of problems to deal with in this city, he'd ask this woman about happenings. It seemed like the safest place to stay, but it had the potential to be the worst. However the spells he knew were on this building made him feel more comfortable. Her voice sounded a little alluring, but it wasn't enough for him to actually go ahead and do or say something just to please her. "I understand, break the rules, you break me." Mic was eerily calm about talking like this, mostly because he had trust in her; she was clearly just trying to make a living, nothing wrong with that. Besides, the spells cast on this place were obviously for protection, a spirit or being which is mobile, that wanted to murder wouldn't stay in one place in the middle of a city to do that. So Mic could rule her out of the deaths. She certainly would know a thing or two though, since her abilities were made clear the instant she talked to him like she had been a lifelong friend.