@HeirloomRoses

Drake didn't take notice that his hair was still laced with soote and ash, and her pinching the smoking residue of my hair out embarrassed him to some degree. "Ah sorry about that! I was up well uh, training all night and morning." He would continue to dust his hair out a bit before pulling the hood back over his head. "Its hard not to burn things when it gets so cold out." He defended, before changing the subject completely, "Your the one that brings in all the food right? do you have any left?" He still struggled to remember her name, guess sleep deprivation has its toll on remembering such things.

Drake would then take a seat next to her as he glanced at the vampires conversing, assuming that they'd probably talk about the best blood in town or whatever. Fang faces, as Drake liked to call them, weren't exactly his favorites of creatures. He loved savage monsters and creatures of myth with raw power and a wild nature. Though vampires are certainly tough, they're shady and aren't really the type of beasts that Drake appreciates. Though they served entertaining at some points, and fighting a vampire has always been something he wanted to do. Of course rookies like Drake dream of such fantasies, what were the odds he'd ever get to fight with a vampire, let alone defeat one.

Max was secretly grateful to Atlas for swooping to the rescue, and in gratitude tucked his Hand of Miriam back inside his shirt- had he just asked Lenya out? Max honestly didn't know himself. A born introvert, making friends didn't come easily to him, and he wasn't really sure where to draw the line between friendship and- well, that other thing. The tall man arched an eyebrow at the suggestion of maple syrup beer, before giving a shrug and a chuckle. "Sounds a little faddish, but it can't hurt to give it a try. I might miss out on something good if I don't. Maybe sometime you and I can take a drive up to Fredericton and do some shopping?" he suggested with a lopsided grin. Max had known a few vampires back in Seattle- it was far better to have them as friends than it was as enemies.

Lenya, to his relief (or his consternation) accepted his somewhat confused offer of beer with a smile and considerably more grace than he could possibly have managed. "Yeah, that big old Cape Cod, from around the time of World War One. It took a lot of doing to make it livable. The hardest part was getting it to safely accommodate my library. You know what happened to the Hermit of the Rif, no one wants a repeat of that. And the kitchen. I like to cook, it needed better equipment and more space. It's no fun cooking for one, though. Maybe sometime-" his voice faltered as he thought about inviting Lenya over for dinner, unsure of where he was going. Dammit. Not again. This was getting ridiculous. "Maybe sometime I'll fix up breakfast omelettes for the office. And something for you, of course," he hastily added to Atlas.

Other began to come in- a lightly toasted young man, and another vampire. Max, unsure of what to do or say, gave a polite nod and pulled his stuff slightly closer to himself to give them more table space.

A jump in heart rate and a deep inhale tipped Mithias off that he was unnerving the sheep, well, at least one sheep. Glory greeted him kindly nonetheless, albeit with an increased tempo in her speech. He returned her bow to her and kept a respectable distance as he listened with a polite smile. Hm, perhaps the shades themselves were intimidating. Anyone with telepathic perception might have been able to tell that he was considering switching to a new silver colored, mirrored lenses that looked less dark and evil, but had left them at home in favor of a more bland and traditional (traditional being 1985) style, thinking that would be more expected by the populace... But, unfortunately his mind was an impenetrable void of blackness and no one would be the wiser.

"That is so kind of you, dear Glory. I do appreciate flowers. They may not be quite food, but their delicious scent reminds me of drinking fresh, cool water from a meadow stream in the heat of the day. I remember such a time, long before in my life. The memory is crystal as I envision being surrounded by greenery in the morning dew. I could drink that scent. I would remember it forever."

His little speech was already entrancing as she felt herself surprisingly soothed. Just listening to him felt like calming, she had been talking to a childhood friend, innocently interested in their story. That was way too powerful.

Mithias went on casually. "Don't be concerned. Most of us are a little frazzled today. Just take it slow and enjoy the moment. Ah! Atlas, my friend." His attention thankfully shifted to the other vampire.

"Hmm, it's hard to believe you never healed yourself of that scar. There was powerful dark magic in use that day. That wound could have killed you." He looked at the book cover. "Oh? And what is this? The stars and the... grave? Where did you find this?"

Mithias' greetin and subsequent, rather poetic, description seemed to alleviate Glory's rational anxiety. She felt suspended, as if the objects of her worry had been temporarily removed and immobilized. The sensation was a peaceful one while she was caught in the middle of it, and then Mithias' attention shifted elsewhere and reality came back in a rather unpleasant rush. She felt less like an island in calm seas and more like an insect at the center of a spider's web. She scowled slightly, then reasoned to herself that he probably couldn't help it. Still, she would rather be anxious of her own will than calm of someone else's. Gathering herself again (it was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?) she turned to Drake, who had taken the seat to her left.

"I'm sorry," Glory said, "I think someone grabbed the last muffin. I'll have to bring something for you tomorrow. Anyway, don't worry about the.. soot. Mushroom season is coming up soon and I'm sure I'll come in at least once with mycilia in my hair."

She looked around curiously as people began filling in the spaces around the long polished conference table. They certainly were a diverse group, the most varied she had worked with thus far, though not the largest. She wondered what the meeting was about, what sort of case they would be devoting their myriad talents to. She was most interested in seeing firsthand how the strengths of each of her teammates came into play when there was work to do outside of the office's cozy brick walls.

She prepared a black pen and a few sheets of closely lined paper to take notes, heading the first page with the date. She took of her gloves to write, and laid them neatly aside.

She would remember to keep a close watch over Max, who she smiled at reassuringly now. He seemed harmless, but there was a certain timid power behind his eyes, even though his mind was a tangle of noise and worry that was almost palpable. She recognized the symbols and sygils he carried. She also recognized the Kabbalah as one of mankind's most dangerous texts, detailing the structure of the body of God, and the way that divinity emanates through the physical world, information some would argue human beings had no right to access. Mama had kept her copy of the book in a lock box. Max was nervous and friendly, but held in his head a vast library of knowledge which could dissect the world into small pieces to be examined like the various parts of a tropical orchid. She saw all of this in a handful of moments, and stored the information away in the meticulously organized archive of her memory.

Drake, in his unprofessional and casual attire looked back at her feeling a bit relieved in her statement. "Guess we all get our hands dirty from time to time, Your name was joy right? Or was it hope or something?" He asked deciding to be blunt about his forgetful behavior. In the meanwhile he also glanced at the rest of the employees, perhaps we would finally be tasked with something exciting. The thought of battling monsters and such was a certain joy for him to be apart of, whether it be his hunts as a child or his beastly powers manifesting in emotion.

Beneath his brown cowl his white shirt and black pants were tattered with chips of wood and more ash, the markings of a lumberjack no doubt, which were perhaps the majority of the source of his campfire scent. A thought of disappointment filled him, he forgot his axe and armor, something that would be fun to test out in actual combat instead of inanimate trees. Perhaps he would have time to snag it on the way to wherever they were going, if we were even tasked with such a job.

"I believe the direct translation is From Hardship to the Stars, From Hardship to Hell. I was messing around in India, around 1950 or so, when I arrived in the capital. I decided the occult scene in the country would be worth checking out. I entered a small shop off the alleyway I was rummaging through. They were conducting a ritual. A summoning ritual. He had arrived inside the circle. I decided to do the right thing, and shot one of them with soft ice magic. The circle was disrupted, and the demon dissipated. The cultists were using this book.", he said, handing it over.

"It's some kind of demon, bound in leather. It only shows you information relevant to your situation, if it decides to cooperate. Your better at magic than me, and you have experience with the monster in question. Try and see what's up with it." He said, grimacing. He turned back to those he had been talking to.

"If you see blood or flies coming out of the wall, tell one of us." His voice containing a seriousness never seen before by his coworkers.

Turning back to Mithias, he continued,"Well, Mitty, how's life been?"

Jaklo entered the top floor office and took a deep breath. He was pushing it again. Wolf’s lessons weren’t just about being a better hunter they were about being a better person. Even then this kid had to know that this was serious. It wouldn’t be the first time a member of W&R didn’t come back.

The office was basically an entire floor. While not as big as the first two the space was still massive. The extra high ceilings really added to the size. At the front of the room was a huge single pane window that gave a great view out into the city of Belfast. Three stories was tall for a small town afterall.

Only a step away from the window was the meeting table. A huge solid wood table that’s top was made out of a single slice of a redwood’s trunk and surrounded by mismatched chairs, including two rolling desk chairs and a bar stool, dominated this side of the room. It was just one of the hundreds of unique objects in Seph’s office. The man had been in the magic field for decades and had thousands of cases memorialized in artifacts, trophies, and solemn reminders. In the center of the table was a Hexagonal block of crystal known as a crystal nexus. In a sense the magical device was the natural progression of the crystal ball, and allowed all the people viewing it to divine through it and share thoughts and images even if only one actually knew how to scry. It didn’t steal thoughts instead only taking what was offered up to be seen. It made it very easy to let everyone understand the delicate specifics that came with the line of work.

Jaklo decided against sitting down for now and headed to the other side of the office. The room was somewhat divided by a two rows of four large cabinets back to back so half faced the table and the rest looked into Seph’s work space. These were filled with some of the more aesthetically pleasing pieces: An ancient katana, a greek helmet, a spanish wheellock pistol, A small tapestry, a cobalt idol, and more. The large majority of the collection was spread across the walls and multiple shelves that lined them. On the left hand side was Seph’s desk. A huge”L” shaped one hand carved from a rich mahogany. At the moment the hunter was sitting there finalizing some work likely to present to the others.

Opposite that under the stairs was a collection of pictures and even a couple paintings that dated back to the earliest years of W&R. Jaklo found his teacher and half smiled. He still felt his time with Wolf was cut short. Even now the words on the will were burned into his head.

“Damn near closest thing I have to a son.” Jaklo muttered with his breath.

Jaklo turned around to see Seph standing over him. For a man of his size he could be incredibly silent.

“Sorry didn’t mean to uhm…” Jaklo quickly stammered.

“It’s fine Wright. I don’t remember how old I was when Wulfegang worked here. My mother told me plenty about him during lessons. You certainly remind me of him. You’re a bit immature, a little trigger happy, and far more aggressive, but you do take after him. Go take a seat. I have a briefing to give.” Seph’s voice was very metered, but did still have a positive warmth to it.

Jaklo nodded moving around the master hunter and towards the meeting table. He sat down putting Arcane Justice on the table. The young hunter just stared into the nexus just trying to think clearly.

At this point Markiel came into the room. The warlock had replaced his casual clothing with a long heavy leather coat, jeans, and boots. Jaklo knew from previous experience the coat was demonhide and amazingly strong. Another example of Ms. Yung’s talents. Markiel let his familiar sit on the crystal nexus. Energy filled the artifact and it glowed red before turning perfectly clear again.

“As some of you may have surmised we’re dealing with a powerful cryonic force. We detected it yesterday, but it was contained to a single block and as such we assumed it was just a mage messing around with some minor weather charms. I had kelvin observe the situation and just in the last twelve hours the area has expanded from a street to most of central and southern Maine.”

The nexus glowed and soon a map was displayed of the affected area with the epicenter marked.

“Now the best plan we have come up with is that half of you will be investigating the source while the rest will investigate the current epicenter.” Markiel said bringing up images of all the employees on the nexus.

Seph now joined the group letting Markiel sit with the others.

“The groups are as follows: Jaklo, Jacques, Drake, Mithias, and Atlas. You will be going after the current epicenter. Prepare for the worst. We don’t know what has motivated this mage or even how he’s been channeling his power.”

The nexus showed a mark moving down towards vermont to represent the moving center of the storm.

“That is where the rest of you will come in though. Max, Lenya, Glory, Coal, and Azai we need you to investigate the location where the magic started. Any detail could help contact the other team as soon as you can. Knowledge is power. We’ll be sending Azai as soon as we can get into contact with him.”

The image was now a quiet suburban street covered in five feet of snow. It was somewhere in this neighborhood that the situation originated. The image narrowed to five houses the center three were coated in ice and far more snow.

Seph was commanding as ever as he went through basic procedure to get everyone on the same page. You could easily see the man as the general of the armed forces. He never wavered and always was able to tell you exactly what you needed to know.

“Markiel and I will be handling damage control and covering up all of this situation. With how bad it is at the epicenter people will be investigating as well. We have to move fast people. Gear up and move out. Markiel opened two one way portals in the basement. You can get around the weather with them. Maria has also readied a couple of useful things from the armory take them as you see fit. Alright, dismissed.”

Jaklo pushed back his chair and headed down for the basement. There were three rooms. Maria’s armory and forge, the chemical lab, and some standard storage. Atlas shared his office with the chem lab. Jaklo hurried into the forge and started to sort through the inventory.

“You mess those up I will mess you up.” Maria reminded Jaklo.

While Maria wasn’t trained for combat she knew how to handle a hammer. Jaklo calmly acknowledged her but continue sorting through. He selected a piece of rose quartz, a hunk of cinnabar, some sulfur, and an ingot of steel. He drew legacy and placed it on a large stone slab. With the objects place equally around it Jaklo added some metallurgic catalysts and an infernal stone. He began the enchanting process activating the catalyst. Fire spread around the slab making an alchemic circle. The ingredients disintegrated and the energy was visibly moving into the sword. When everything was gone the blade remained now glowing as though it had just been in a forge. Jaklo grabbed the blade and inspected it. The glow vanished, and Jaklo stowed the sword.

“Put the stuff on my tab. We’ve got a case to get off to.” Jaklo said heading out to the storage room where Markiel has opened the portals.

Atlas grinned at the briefing. "This news is quite...chilling.", Atlas said, promptly taking a drink from his bottle. The pun seemed inappropriate, but Atlas couldn't care less. He filed downstairs, passing his coworkers. "Well, I guess the offensive team makes sense. Mitty and I don't care about cold, and the 3 others could wipe the floor with any half wit mage.", Atlas thought as he ventured into his lab. He took out his knives, 6 in total, each with different capabilities. He put them inside a strange machine, a cross between a blender and an oven. Automatic enchanter. It would get them up to full power in time for departure. He circled around the lab, checking on the mandrake potion. It was a truth serum formula he had dug up in Italy, and he had been meaning to try it out. He still had quite some time before it was ready.

After dealing with the mundane, he moved onto the large cabinet filled with various beakers and bottles. These were all his concoctions still in experimental phase, with some stable ones perched on the bottom. He grabbed three flasks of a glowing green liquid, and a small vial containing gasoline. After grabbing matches and his now sharpened knives, he looked back on the lab, wondering if he had missed anything. His eyes fell upon the beaten chest. Inside there was a bottle of vodka and a towel. "A few Molotov's never hurt anybody", he thought as he grabbed the bottle. He turned to the closet. Combat time.

It was cold out, but that didn't bother Atlas. He changed into his Victorian clothing, with one exception. He pulled another trench coat out of the heap of clothes. This one, which seemed to drain the air of light, had very minor protective wards inscribed. Better than nothing. He put it on, and continued on his way to the armory.

He went into the armory looking for something in particular. After sorting through the various boxes, he came across it. A small thermos, with spells to make whatever lie inside taste like hot chocolate. He ran back to the lab, quickly saying, "Put it on my tab", as he filled the container with blood. Armed with knives, bottled fire, and hot chocolate, Atlas was prepared. He made his way into the storage room.

Arriving in the room, he stated,"Vermont. Why did it have to be Vermont. Last time I was in Vermont..", as he continued into one of his trademark rants.

Glory's first order of business was to suit up for the weather. In the second floor ladies' room, which had some very lovely lavender wallpaper that appeared to be quite old, she changed into a pair of black jeans, a white blouse, and a grey sweater. She tied up her mess of almost black hair and looped a scarf around her head. Conveniently, she also had a sweater for Waylon.

Her satchel was well-equipped for this sort of job. She had small cloth sachets of iron filings that, when rubbed between the palms of two freezing hands, generated enough warmth to revive numb fingers. These handy tools were given to her by a couple in Alaska, as payment for the rescue of their cabbages. She had an assortment of herbs which could be used in the event of frostbite, hypothermia, exhaustion, etc. as well as some snacks and a thermos for hot coffee. Her job, she knew, was to keep her teammates safe and keep a record of their discoveries. Essentially, she was the one who would make sure nobody died. She wasn't much of a fighter, especially considering her role in the group, but she did have a small, mercilessly sharp hunting knife which she stuck in her boot just in case.

She re-entered the conference room to find her teammates picking through the available selection of weapons and mystical tools, and raised a courteous hand to make a suggestion.

"Do we have any snow shovels?"

She reasoned that in this situation, at least for her team, snow shovels might be more useful in uncovering the mystery at hand than a cursed gauntlet or Cloak of Silence. But what did she know? It never snowed where she was from.

While normally this would be exciting, Drake despised the cold. Whether it be the cold blooded nature of his beastly transformations, grown affinity to fire, or having to endure the winters of the north east cost, it was something he wished to avoid. A reason he almost didnt go to Maine for this job. He had to fight a mage using Ice? Certainly not something he wished to do, and was tempted to speak up in switching teams. However he decided that it would hurt any reputation he tried to build, and opting out of combat might have made him look like a wuss. Besides, perhaps enduring such a situation could help improve his skills drastically. Looking at his team starting to take equipment, he decided that he needed to go grab his things.

Instead of going to retrieve items from the office and borrow such tools, Drake only wanted the equipment he left at his home. As such, he would quickly get up and rush out the door, it took him several minutes of hauling ass to his apartment to get his armor, a bunch of bed sheets he had lying around, and the axe he left in the woods. He wrapped both the armor and axe in the sheets to conceal them completely, and sprinted back to the office building. Overall he would have been absent for about 10 minutes. Returning to the lobby, he took off the sheets to reveal his belongings, suited up in his armor and readied his massive weapon.

Baron mused over the briefing. All in all, nothing he hadn't expected. Honestly boring, and he would've considered it to be a waste of his time if he wasn't getting paid for this. Considering he was on Seph and Markiel's payroll, he had a duty to do as instructed, which meant going with this group, even if they were far from his first picks. Certainly in this field, one couldn't be too picky when it came to coworkers. Those of adequate talent were rare, even rarer those who shared ambition enough to work in tandem. He casually thumbed through his notebook, finding pages with hastily scribbled notes on his (hopefully) temporary comrades as he mentally reviewed them each in turn.

"Jaklo... Wright? Wright. Right. Hunter, right? Something like that, the man is always carrying guns and the like, and I can't say I've ever seen him cast a single spell. Hell of a lot of toys, though. Tolerable, if a bit grating socially. I'll keep him close." Baron thought to himself as his eyes surveyed the young man.

Meeting adjourned, Baron made his way to his desk, pulling open a drawer with his bionic arm. It slid smoothly, revealing the bright white shine of his magnum, reflecting in the light. He took a hold of it in his good arm, turning it side over side. His mind flooded with memories brought by the weapon -the enchantment a gift from a woman he had known for all of a month. Just as quickly as the warm memories flooded his mind, they were dashed by a gory bang from deep within his subconscious, images of nostalgia replaced by the gore of those he had taken shots at. Baron grimaced as he stuffed the pistol back away in the drawer, instead pulling out a set of lustrous blue gems. The octahedral crystals, teeming with energy, moved of almost their own volition up Barons arm along his tattoos. They settled in the areas of high focus on his tattoos, sinking deep into his flesh. His eyes darted briefly to the spot where Drake had been lying earlier, which he had tried oh so very hard to ignore.

"I can't say that he's not talented at what he does, and pyromancy certainly won't hurt in this situation." The Frenchman thought, summing up his positive thoughts for the shifter. "But no grace, no elegance, and honestly I'd rather take intellectual advice from a broken printer. Honestly just the man opening his mouth makes me cringe." He thought, shuddering at the fear of having to hold extended conversation with the wannabe dragon.

Tentacles erupted again from Baron's back as he leaned over one of his spellbooks, searching for a spell he remembered from long ago. As much of his magic, inspired by that of demons, the spell was found written in shaky handwriting with red ink used to highlight the important points. He remembered writing the specifics of the spell, and the sheer agony that the incantation itself brought with apprehension. While channeling raw arcane energy itself fell under the jurisdiction of Diabolists, Baron had all but perfected the art of honing this energy like light through a prism. Baron read through the page thrice before looking away, muttering the incantation under his breath. He was glad that there was no particular rush -he had never quite gotten used to using these situational spells with any haste, and he'd be surprised if it took him any less than ten minutes to successfully perform the spell. As he finished murmuring the incantation, his eyes turned to Atlas.

One of the older among those employed at W&R, though still young in comparison to Baron (technically. The line was always blurred.), Atlas could've been fourteen years old as far as Baron was concerned. "Is there a single magic user in this age that doesn't have the social skills of an emo high schooler? Other than that Max guy. He's got... what is the word? Game?" He pondered. Though Baron had a fairly strong grasp on the conventions of this age, some references and slang were beyond him. If interacting with Drake was cringe worthy, an encounter with Atlas would be nothing less than mortifying.

As arcane energy flowed through Baron's body, he felt a feral flame erupting within his body. Like the sensation when one strikes their 'funny bone', a warm pain flowed through his body, burning at his very soul. Though his entire body tensed and strained in pain, he stood still and silent, not wishing to make a scene. Almost in response to the pain, tentacles pulled out of his body into existence, thrashing violently as they appeared before calming down to a gentle wave. Baron hadn't checked, but he was relatively sure that there were few people near enough his desk to take notice of the momentary weakness. The spell complete, Baron tied the surprisingly small spellbook shut with a ribbon of cloth that wrapped many times around the leather cover -inscribed with a crude image of a smiling man in what seemed to be a wasteland. As the book found itself being shoved to the side by an errant blue tentacle, Baron turned his eyes up as he tried to recall detail of his final teammate. Mithias the vampire.

This one was actually older than Baron, something impressive to say the least. "Fucking Mithias I -I actually don't know too much about this one." That being said, his general demeanor was chivalrous -not a quality that one could ever accuse Baron of possessing, but one he admired in others. Possibly naive, but respectable. For the moment, Baron chose to reserve judgement on this one, hopefully for the better.

As a magical warmth pulsed throughout his body, Baron spent one final moment at his desk before leaving. A locked drawer beneath the one holding his magnum contained his one most valuable possession. Overly careful with the artifact, Baron dug it out of newspaper packing with the ginger touch of a tentacle. The object was attached to his belt, still in it's sheath. Feeling far more complete with the artifact at his side, Baron finally elected to leave his desk and join the others in the basement. All of his gear in hand, the Frenchman had no need to visit the armory or chemical lab. He instead made a beeline for storage, where the portals were to take them to their destination. On his arrival, he saw Jaklo and Atlas waiting already. His tentacles shifted uncomfortably, shifting through an array of colors before finally settling down -the majority shone bright orange as they lazily drifted in and out of existence, while a few could be seen waving in between with a striking blue. He nodded to the two as he approached, taking mental note of Drakes rather rushed exit. He had left about ten minutes ago on some urgent errand. Left the oven on at home, perhaps? In all honesty, Baron wouldn't terribly mind if the shifter didn't show up for the mission.

"It appears we drew the short end of the stick, gentlemen. I don't suppose anyone has some words of... motivation before we get our hands dirty?" He asked with an utterly stony expression, using his tentacles for support as he leaned back.

It seemed Max would have no need of his briefcase, but the Thermos full of hot coffee was sounding more appealing by the second, especially with the wind howling outside. It had seemed a bit nippy this morning, but now it was downright freezing out there. Max hadn't brought anything more than a light scarf, which seemed pretty inadequate.

He slipped his notebook and Thermos into his jacket pocket, took the shofar by its leather thong and hung it from his shoulder, there for when he needed it quickly. After a moment's hesitation, Max lifted his jacket and removed his revolver from the hip holster he wore it in under his clothes- Maine, as it turned out, had no concealed carry law and a demon could strike at any time. He checked it carefully, observing all the rules of gun safety, making sure it was in working order and loaded. The Smith and Wesson was distinctly unmagical, loaded with plain old .44 special rounds. He disliked carrying it, and he doubted it would be much use against the bulk of supernatural creatures. It was a last resort, intended to be used on himself just in case one of the demons he summoned decided to take him for a ride. But one needs more than just good intentions to go face an unknown enemy.

Satisfied that his weapons were prepared, Max walked down to the armory just as Glory was asking about snow shovels. "The girl has a good point," he said, knotting his scarf around his neck. "If we're expected to walk straight into Cocytus itself, a shovel is likely to do us more good than all the AR-15s in the world," he said with a dismissive wave towards a rack of rifles. His eyes lit on a stack of military grade E-tools- small, lightweight, folding shovels. "Now this is the ticket," he said, taking one for himself and offering a second to Glory. "Maria, my dear, you will of course receive remuneration in full for the use of your fine stock. Case in point," he said as he helped himself to a rack of heavy winter clothing. A wool greatcoat (maybe half a size too small, but beggars can't be choosers, especially when they're 6'7") was slipped over Max' suit and the collars turned up, a pair of Gore Tex gloves were slipped over his hand- thick enough to keep his hands warm but thin enough to turn pages in his notebook. Excellent. "Now for a hat," Max mused, looking through the available options. Pickings in his size were slim.

It took a moment of searching, but with a groan he found a hat that would fit him and keep him warm- a knit cap. Normally a tight-fitting wool cap with ear flaps would be an excellent choice, but this one was perhaps too cheerful- not only was it a bright orange-red, but decorated with plush felt-lined fox ears. Like something a fourteen-year-old girl would wear. "Why is this even here? I thought we were professionals," Max sighed as he discovered it was a perfect fit for his head. He would have to wear it. "I look ridiculous, don't I," he said to the room at large, ear flaps dangling over the shoulders of his somber suit and greatcoat.

During all the talk, and befriending, Coal was just sitting by his lonesome on the floor (Well he was trying to hover, but it proved too tiring and so just gave up). Silent as ever, he sat with his knees up to his chest, while a blade that protruded from his sleeve was etching runes on the floor. “Weave the circle, tightly sewn,” he hummed, continuing the little song as he ventured deeper into his own thoughts.

”Stupid me, why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut?”, Coal winced internally (if that’s even possible) at his own harshness, ”Just had to lose my goddamn temper and make a giant fool of myself. Everyone now thinks of me as a little brat.” Coal lifted his eyes for a second and glanced at everyone else, no one was paying Coal any attention, no one was tight lipped or had their face screwed in disgust, why would he ever need to feel worried that he was hated?

”They’re not looking at me because they want to forget me.”

“Oh.”

His eyes dropped down again.

He could have wandered into their minds again, seen what they really think. ”Don’t bother,” his inner voice sighed again, ”They probably are pitying me anyway, I don’t need their pity.” he brooded from the dark corner. ”No stupid, stop! Look as if you’re fine.", his tried putting on his best poker face, again, he felt too empty to even try now. He just glanced with his thousand mile stare at the floor, at least his runes were coming in nicely. Chipping harder at the floor proved to help distract Coal from his worryingly low self-esteem and the verbal abuse of his own mind.

“That is where the rest of you will come in though. Max, Lenya, Glory, Coal, and Azai.”, Coal’s head immediately perked up, his eyes darting at his soon-to-be teammates. He hasn’t said a word to any of them, save Lenya (then again it was less than a 100 words), and now he had to trust his life in their hands and vice versa. ”It’s just gathering intel,” he tried reassuring himself, ”No way you can screw this up.”

Rising up from his seat on the floor, and hiding the blade again, he pretended to cough, hoping to get their attention for just a split second. “I’ll just, uhh, meet you guys at the location. I need to grab something.” he said in a confused mix of mutterings and mumbles, vanishing without a word. Leaving behind only a few arcane runes, and a very messy blotch of soot in place of where he stood. Not even a day here and he already made gashes in the floor, and a huge mess.

The door to Coal’s little hut banged open, and Coal walked out of a flash of smoke. Everything was in it’s place, and Cerberus was staring judgingly at Coal from below.

“Oh hi, Cer-”

“You were terrible.”

“Terrible? What do you-”

“You snapped at two of your co-workers, spilled perfectly good doughnuts, and sat in the corner like a loner. Not a very good first impression.”

“Wait, how do you-”

“I came with you, while invisible of course, and you were just-”

“Let me get a goddamn word out, Cerberus!”, Coal felt a flare of anger rising up inside him, but it died out as soon as it came, leaving behind only emptiness. Coal let out a sigh, and continued, “Yes, fine. I acted badly but now’s not the time to lecture me, I’m being sent on my first mission and I’m really trying not to be negative right now. So, are you coming with or would you rather sit here and act smug?”

“I’m coming of course. Someone needs to keep you in check,” Cerberus purred as he appeared onto Coal’s shoulder, wrapping himself around Coal’s shoulders like a nightmarish fur-scarf. “Where are you going for this mission?”

“Some place near-by, apparently some ice-mage has been doing something nasty and I just need to find clues and stuff,” Coal for once kept talking. Blabbering about his day and the mission as he looked for and found his enchanted bag.
Made of leather, very fashionable, roomy, and nicked easily from some snobbish girl, Coal was sure she had more bags. Coal thinks she may have been French also.

Digging into it’s contents, Coal pulled out a paint brush, a magic paint brush to be exact. Everything out of that bag was magic anyway. “Yah, and this Glory girl looks to be straight out of a black-and-white photo,” Coal continued while Cerberus listened, and Coal drew runes on his skin that disappears as soon as it was drawn. Cerberus didn’t mind that Coal tended to blabber so much around familiar people, he genuinely liked the kid. Being listened to seemed to make him happy, so Cerberus listened.

“Alright then,” Coal looked at himself and his handiwork using his (probably stolen) phone, the dozen or so runes that littered his skin were completely vanished. “Clever, huh?”, Cerberus nodded in agreement, “If my clothes can’t fight off the chill, these runes will,” he added as his finger traced all of his cheek and arms. Not a single bump or drop of ink, and miraculously, he felt proud of himself.

“Ready?”

"Ready." Coal willed his door to open, a swirling vortex of blue appeared in the door frame, and a chilling wind howled from it. With a clear mind, and taking deep breaths, Coal walked through the door. A woosh of air blew his hair back as he found himself standing knee-deep in soft snow. Falling like angel-dust from the sky, pure-white snow coated everything. From the beaten up cobble paths, to the frozen solids homes, giving everything this gingerbread house feel, and Coal stood out in it like a sore thumb.

Sitting cross-legged and slowly sinking into the snow, Coal waited for the others to arrive. There were icicles forming on him already as he drew little snowmen and the ice rune Isa in the soft snow.

The meeting broke up with a welcome efficiency. Lenya came to her feet and tucked her briefcase under her arm. Growing up in alpine climates she had plenty of cold weather clothing but all of that was a boat ride away. She supposed it would be possible to weave a spell that would protect her from the cold but how much simpler just to wear a coat? It was her experience that those with magical talent fell back on it too readily, rather than using the simple mundane solutions.

Accordingly she selected a fleece lined black jacket, a pair of slightly too large snow pants and some leather boots which looked to be sufficiently waterproof. Carefully tucking her hair back into the jacket she pulled up the hood and zipped it up. Opening her briefcase she took a pair of black leather gloves and pulled them over her hands. They weren’t as warm as wool but they would allow her to manipulate objects more easily and more safely. Thus equipped against the weather she headed over to where Max and Glory stood.

“Where is Mr Coa… never mind I don’t suppose it matters.” She looked around for the young man in the crowd as they pulled on clothes and gathered equipment. The assignments made a certain amount of sense to her. If there was a threat, it was likely to be at the center of the storm. That made a strong case for what Lenya thought of as ‘the muscle’ to be sent. On the other hand…

“It might just be that we will find this mage’s workshop,” she began quietly to her two companions. She assumed that is why the more academic team, or ‘the brains’ as she thought of them, was being sent to that location.

“But it is also possible that this mage, whoever they are, is directing this storm from there. That is how I would do it were I attempting a fimblewinter. I think we should be cautious.” Her eyes drifted up to Max’s hat. Fortunately she had years of mental discipline with which to hold back the laughter at the foxy headgear. She cleared her throat pre-emptively.

“I’ll grab another shovel, then are we ready to go?”

Glory avoided looking too closely at Max, lest she suffer an undignified fit of the giggles. She glanced around the room and noticed Coal lurking in the corner, looking depressed and forlorn, but not the kind of depressed and forlorn which affects people who are actually depressed and forlorn; rather it was clearly the sort of unfortunate self-inflicted ennui common to overthinkers. She called to him over the hubbub of mission preparations taking place all around them.

"Mr. Coal. If you want snacks, you'll have to come along."

She turned then to Lenya, who she admire for her pragmatism. They were similar in that they treated magic as an occasionally necessary tool, acknowledging that there was nothing wrong with other, non-magical tools when appropriate, such as good coats. Or shovels. Magic was useful, but not mandatory, and overuse was unwise. If God meant us to move rocks with magic, He wouldn't have given us arms.

"Are we going on foot, or does somebody have a vehicle suitable for the weather? I don't think my old clunker would do so well on icy roads. She looks pretty, but she's not all that tough."

Waylon chose that moment to stick his wet nose in the palm of Lenya's glove, wagging his tail insistently. Clearly he had found a friend.

Loud and horrible was the sound that Azai woke up to, it was something that he used to do after a long night of training just to be able to wake up. The alarm did its job perfectly only to fail in few moments, he was too tired because of the spell training he did last night so he went back to sleep. Minutes later a more loud alarm woke him up; it was an extra just in case. He tried to stay under the covers but couldn't ignore the loud sound, he got out of bed and turned the alarm off and headed to open the curtains letting the light in revealing a huge apartment, it was actually a penthouse in the city that he bought when he joined W&R, his parent's stocks were still pouring on him since the day he inherited their wealth and he couldn't help himself but to live wealthy. The window had a great view of the city, which becomes greater in the night. Azai took a deep breath as he stretched his muscles then walked back to his closet letting the breath out, he picked a black suit with a red tie, he always smiled when he looked on his suits they were his little joy in life, he decided to take a shower first and maybe grab some breakfast after, so he hung the suit on a chair and headed to the bathroom, he didn't feel like he was in a rush today

He received a text message on his cell while taking his shower, it seems that they had another case and he was already running late. After he got out he grabbed his cell and sighed, he really wanted that breakfast. Quickly he grabbed his suit and went to the living room, it was nothing less than amazing it had a two steps that leads towards a comfy zone that had the TV table with a huge screen on it and small book case right next to it, the room also had various paintings in it which was another thing he liked to obtain, and there was a shelf on the other side of the screen that had small wooden boxes that was locked magically, it had his hexes scrolls in it and on the top shelf his gauntlet locked inside a glass box. The gauntlet was made from black leather slim enough to fit under his suit without being noticed and his took off his daggers that were hung on a rack on top of the shelves. He grabbed it and then put on his suit on and headed out...

He arrived at the underground garage and got in his car and rode out towards the agency as he received another text message and read it slowly because his eyes were shifting from the road to his cell, the message told was a debriefing of his new assignment he was teaming some of the coworkers he knew there was only one he didn’t recognize maybe a new guy. He wasn’t so happy about the mission he was up against element magic something he had big advantage on, but he had to get a coat just in case his suit isn’t enough for the cold... He widened his eyes surprised how late today he was and stepped on the throttle letting the engine roar. Upon arriving he was expecting to be late, but since the meeting was done he had time to walk and be ready to head out.

Azai went straight to his office, it had a small desk on the right corner and a PC on it, and to the left of it there was a big closet taking the rest of the space of that side, it had his guns and extra suits and coats just in case he needed backup gear, and right a cross there was a glass showcase that had small hex scrolls. He took out his guns and a white trench coat thick enough to keep him warm in a snowy weather and walked to the armory. He could hear voices of people, so he put up his smile as he approached them and was able to recognize them all, more fortunate they were his teammates for the mission, they didn’t leave yet. He saw that they were carrying shovels something that felt weird but thinking again it may help them who knows? He arrived as soon as Glory was mentioning a car to go with, something that he was able to help with since he came with the brand new four wheel car that he luckily took out today for a test drive. Just before they could see him coming he interrupted them with a smile and a happy voice ”Well then, shall we take my car?…” He closed his eyes as he turned to Glory before facing the others and greeting them as he went to take resupply on ammos and throwing knives ”Hello, I’m sorry I was late but I woke up late. But I arrived at the right moment” He let out a small laugh as he was trying to avoid any kind of criticism just when finished resupplying and grabbing a shovel.

“All your fancy magic and you have to use shovels to dig out a building.” Jaklo chuckled, “I already used most of the materials, but I think I could enchant one of those shovels with the same fire enchantment I gave legacy. Just if someone wants a little extra firepower.”

Jaklo noticed the hilarious hat that Max had found and broke out into laughter. Here was a forty something jewish man in a little kids hat about to go on a dangerous case involving weather altering ice magic, and nothing seemed to be able to top that for hilarity. That was just the case though. This was a dangerous task at hand. W&R was always hiring not only because they saught more talent, but because not everyone made it home at the end of the night. Jaklo had only been there a year, and he had already witnessed it.

Terry McKine was a morphologist demonologist. He was older than Jaklo, but still plenty full of youth. The man had blazing red hair and a gruff appearance. He was a bear of a man, and the office even had nicknamed him Teddy, as he wasn’t that bad deep down. He grew up in north western canada and you could definitely tell. The man may have been a highly intelligent mage, but he dressed and was built like a lumberjack. His familiar was a pigmy infernal drake named Nasha. Now even as a pigmy she was the size of a horse, and could kill a man without straining herself in the slightest. There was a strange camaraderie to the two. A drake was a peculiar familiar in the first place on account of its power, but the two respected each other.

Jaklo still remembered how that got Teddy killed. It was a case out west down in Nevada. They were trailing a shaman who was spreading a plague to the descendants of those who took his people’s homeland. Somehow the group had missed a detail and not realized he was using demonology to get the plague, and as such when they caught up the shaman opened a massive hell rift to summon a demon. Everyone fought their best, but in the end only Teddy, Nasha, and the demon were standing while the portal was beginning to collapse. Nasha was ready to sacrifice herself, a trait that demons can only learn if they find their perfect pair, and tried to force the demon back into the portal knowing it would likely kill her as soon as the portal was closed behind her. Teddy refused to let her go alone and the two charged the demon sending it back, but the portal sealed behind them. There was no way either would survive. This was a greater demon capable of fighting armies of men. They were just gone in the blink of an eye.

Back in the storage room Jaklo’s eyes had glazed over in his thoughts.Teddy was a great wizard, and now some of his friends had to rely on a kid with no field experience. Thank god he was going with Max and Lenya. Those two definitely knew what they were doing. Glory wasn’t the strongest, but certainly could handle herself and help the others if Coal didn’t take care. Jaklo bared his teeth anger coming to mind. If Coal let the closest people Jaklo had to friends get hurt or worse he would personally disembowel the witch. He snapped back hearing Baron’s comment. He grumbled knowing he was starting to go over again and took a deep breath.

“Short end? I live for to get my hands dirty. Unlike you mages the world is my lab, and my texts are fire side tales of great hunts.” Jaklo said readying himself mentally for the battle to come, “I don’t mean to sound rude by it, but it is kind of a hunter’s job to get out there and well hunt. You call it dirty work. I call it tuesday.”

@jasonwolf

The meting adjourned and everyone got up to prepare for their missions, leaving the large office mostly empty except for Seph and maybe Markiel. Yet, it wasn't long before one of the investigators returned.

Mithias intended to find Seph alone and had returned to the office. His hair was still back and his shades still on, but his outfit had changed. Gone was the eloquent and friendly suit, replaced now with a black, military style cloth armor vest and long, weapon-concealing black jacket. Durable boots and pocketed pants lead up to a girdle that holstered two swords at his hips. There was more on him, but the details didn't matter. He looked like something out of the Matrix.

The vampire's uncanny ability to move with minimal noise made it seem almost as if he had simply appeared out of thin air, but the more logical explanation was that he had just been noticed late. Regardless, he was there, and surely he would explain why. Indeed, Mithias approached Seph in the backroom of his office, pulling off his shades as a sign of respect and allowing the aged shifter to see his eyes. He spoke softly, believing no one else to be listening. "Seph, my friend. Before we embark on this mission, and before I specifically join the others, I would make a last-minute request from you in the interests of safety and sanity." He knelt down in the middle of the room, for to Mithias blood freely given was sacred. "I beg you to saite my hunger, for I know that you can. Put it to rest so that I will not be distracted by temptation should anything happen. I would chose to feed here, rather than hunt in what may potentially be a frozen wasteland."

Mithias waited for what Seph might say.

Already through the portal to the front lines, Drake's thirst for adventure was soon vanquished by the harsh conditions of the snow around him. If he wasn't so prideful about his own equipment perhaps he would have grabbed more winter gear back at the office, but it was too late now. In the middle of a blizzard, Drake's body would begin to smoke and steam up rapidly, trickles of embers falling from his armor's cape and caps in the metal. The harsh wind and snow made it difficult for his fire to grow, and as such he had to expend even more magic to keep it from burning out as he casted the flames off of his body. Within minutes he was a walking inferno, flames burning off of his form and swirling a bit around him, being carried briefly by the wind and most of his form would appear as a silhouette surrounded by bright fire. The snow around him would rapidly sublimate around him, the heat too intense for the snow to simply turn to water. Despite being shrouded in flames Drake was still cold, and had already expended much energy to keep his fire up. With his axe in hand he tried to get a better look at his surroundings and look for his teammates.

Max shook his head at the offer to enchant his shovel, then stopped because of the way it made the flaps on his hat whip about. "In my experience, it's not wise to depend on magic for mundane things. There can be a steep price tag."

He considered for a moment, fully aware of how dangerous this situation was, before sighing. "I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Remind me not to tell my mother about this." With that, the tall man bent his head and stepped through the portal to the snowbound street, shovel tightly clamped in his gloved hands.

The cold hit him immediately, the wind feeling like a gale of needles against his skin. He breathed in involuntarily in shock, then regretted it immediately- the air itself was so cold that just breathing it in felt like a knife in the lungs. The worst winters in Seattle were never this bad. Hell, the winters when he was studying in Minsk and Saint Petersburg hadn't been this bad (though the haze of vodka and Baltika might have colored his memory). Max' teeth began to chatter, and he instinctively hugged himself as the cold cut through even his heavy clothing. Though his head felt absolutely fine. Maybe there was something to be said for the foxy hat.

Still, he was here to do a job. Lifting his scarf to cover his nose and mouth, Max unfolded his shovel and began the work of clearing a path through the drifts towards the house they had been shown in the scrying crystal. Too much was at stake for him to stand there and shiver- with unlit furnaces and coats deep in closets, it seemed likely unsuspecting locals might freeze in their homes if this went on. Max eventually fell into a groove with the digging and began to make slow but steady progress towards the house, edging towards the front door.