Good evenin', listeners! If you're just tunin' in, I'm your host Mr. Dialtone and you are listenin' to Awareness Radio. Our top story tonight, the City Council voted against increasin' fundin' to City Maintenance. The opposition to the proposal, led by Councilor Chandra Singh, rightly pointed out that City Maintenance already have more than enough fundin' to do their thing and that the various failures, disruptions, and paperwork pileups the increase in fundin' would supposedly prevent would never happen anyway.

Now listen up, listeners. Cuz' ol' Mr. Dialtone's got some truth for the folks out there that the Houseguest hasn't chased away. That proposal was a power-hungry piece o' posture put out by one o' Edward Farley's goons. That's right, listeners. The Risin' Shadow is at it again. I don't know why he wanted to send more money to City Maintenance, but ask anyone out there in the know and they'll tell you that anything good for Farley is bad for everyone else. So if you see Chandra Singh out there, buy her a drink for me. She's gonna need it after crossin' Farley the way she did. Believe me. I know.

In other news, tonight marks the third week that the Trader has been runnin' around the city and plyin' their trade among the citizens of our fair metropolis, whether they like it or not. Now don't get me wrong, I've been hearin' all you listeners from Arcadia. That's just how tradin' works back home. But here on Earth, you don't just take stuff without askin'. Even if you leave payment behind. You gotta offer the trade first. And if they say no, you gotta respect that. You'd think the Trader woulda been told this by now, but no. It seems fae culture has a thing about correctin' folks too. If no one gives the Trader the news though, they might just have to learn it the hard way.

And finally, there's a new hunter in town. Now usually, I'd welcome that. But this one, Abberline Winchester, he isn't your usual "protect the people from what goes bump in the night" sorta hunter. No, he's more of a "hunt what goes bump in the night for sport and hang it on the mantelpiece regardless of whether or not what goes bump in the night was actually hurtin' people" sorta hunter. So if any o' you guys from Power, Night, or Wild just wanna mind your own business, I'd suggest keepin' your heads down for a while. And while Mortality might not be on his merc list, I'd suggest you folks steer clear too. While he does try to keep ordinary folks out of the crossfire, collateral damage won't dissuade him if push comes to shove.

Anyway, that's all I've got for now. More will come as it happens, but in the meantime here's some music.

@Guardian Angel Haruki
Anytime you pass a phone, it begins to ring. You may have thought it a coincidence before, but not now. Even among wizards, Mr. Dialtone is something of an oddity. But then again anyone who's had their soul imprisoned in electrical wiring would be something of an oddity. Regardless, the guy is friendly enough and has even been pretty helpful to you in the past. Partly because he owes you, partly because you owe him, but mainly because he's just cool like that.

From past experience, you know that the ringing phones won't stop following you until you pick one up.

What do you do?

@XxFellsingxX
Someone's been in your apartment. You wouldn't have noticed as soon as you did had it not been for Trinity, but with her around, that eye for detail her forensics career had honed to a keen edge managed to pick up that various objects were out of place a few moments after you and your roommates returned to your abode after each of you had fulfilled the myriad obligations that made up your day. But even without Trinity's sharp eyes, you would have realized this eventually.

Your tarot cards are gone. A deck of cheap, low quality playing cards left in their place. Nothing else has been stolen, but that doesn't change the fact that you are now without your prophetic tools.

What do you do?

@RBYDark
The Totem of Prey. In the hands of most, it's an odd little animal bone trinket of no real use or value. In the hands of those who know what they're doing though, it's an early warning to get your head down because someone or something is hunting you. You have come into possession of one. And as luck would have it, you know what you're doing.

But you don't have time to focus on that right now. The all too familiar sound of loud music comprised mainly of trumpets has reached your ears. An all too familiar sound that is drawing closer with each passing second.

It appears that your boss would like a word with you.

What do you do?

Grace

Grace was in Kendra's apartment right now, going over her own thoughts and notes of her current investigation when the apartment's phone rang. Before, she would have thought it was a coincidence or a scam caller. But after this past week, she knew better. She knew who was calling...

---

Her mind flashed back to the day she died. The CEO wanted to talk to her somewhere private and outside of the company building. Naively, she agreed to meet with him. But, the fact that they were alone and it was at night had set the girl on edge. When he moved to attack her, her instincts kicked in, helping her move quickly to hit him and deflect the weapon before she ran.

She ran and ran and ran as fast as her own legs could carry her. She could hear shots fired at her, and one of the bullets caught her leg, causing her to fall.

She looked up from the ground to see her attacker closing in behind her, and another in front of her. She screamed to the figure in front of her desperately,

"HE'S GOING TO KILL ME! PLEASE HELP ME!!!"

But no help came. Instead, there was another bang and there was only darkness.

When she woke up, she thought she had just fallen unconscious and was completely alive. She was at that same spot, but was completely alone. She wandered, trying to get back home, and eventually reached a diner. It was strange though. Nobody could see or hear her. She didn't know what was going on.

That's when she first spoke Mr. Dialtone. He contacted her through a payphone outside of the diner, when the coast was clear. He was the one to break the news to her that she is dead and is now a ghost. Her murderers had taken away her corporeal body to dispose of it.

Naturally, Grace didn't take the news well at first. She tried to talk and interact with the living to prove otherwise, but that didn't end well. She tried ignoring the phone calls from Dialtone, but that didn't work either. The phones wouldn't stop ringing until she picked up.

When Grace had calmed down and was able to speak with Mr. Dialtone reasonably, he helped her explain the situation regarding ghosts, fairies, demons, and everything else that goes bump in the night. He also helped teach her how to utilize her abilities as a ghost. She owes him for helping her understand the situation and come to terms with it. He could have easily just left her as a lost and confused spirit, alone and adrift without purpose.

Naturally, she was curious as to why he was helping her,. When she asked, he told her first...

'In Loss, there is Victory.
And in Victory, there is Loss,'

It turned out when Grace ran for her life, she managed to get herself to an area that was surveilled by security cameras, 24/7. Those cameras recorded the moment of her death, and they caught the CEO with the gun in hand and dealing the killing blow. Mr. Dialtone was in those cameras at the right place at the right time, and he now has that security footage himself. So, in a sense, he owes her.

Why was he interested in that footage? Because the CEO is connected to Farley somehow. However, it would be hard to nail Farley with just the footage of her murder alone.

So, Grace and Mr. Dialtone came to an agreement. She would help Mr. Dialtone investigate and try to expose the CEO and Farley's corruption, and in doing so, it would allow her to get her vengeance of exposure and humiliation upon her murderer...

---

Grace snapped out of her thoughts when the phone rang again. Seeing that Aliss, Kendra, and Trinity were in the apartment, so answering the phone here wasn't an option. She moved through the walls to the next apartment room, where she knew it would be empty. Upon seeing that the phone rang there, she focused and manifested enough to be heard and to touch the phone. She picked up the phone and answered, "Hello Mr. Dialtone,"

On those occasions that the origins of her precognitive abilities came up in conversation, Kendra would answer that she was cursed.

It was mostly a joke, of course. She didn't actually know how or why she was the way she was, only that she had had these powers for as long as she could remember so she was most likely born with them. If they were hereditary though, it must have been those 'once every few generations' thing because neither her mother, father nor siblings had this power. Her Nan on her father's side of the family did have 'feelings' now and again, like aching elbows when it was going to rain or ringing in her ears before a particularly windy day, but nothing comparable to the head-splitting visions or night terrors Kendra was constantly troubled with. Digging back into the family history hadn't turned up much either, save for some old family superstitions that their ancestors had had some dealings with the fae - or 'the Good Neighbours' as they preferred to address them. These rumors were pretty vague and varied from pacts with the fair folk to straight up having children with them. But Kendra preferred the curse theory. Maybe her great-great-great something-or-other had pissed off the wrong faerie or something.

It certainly felt like that sometimes, given how often trouble seemed to find her. The visions were a constant, obviously, but recently she'd also had to deal with Grace's presence in her home. As far as ghosts go, they could have definitely done worse: the girl was no malevolent shade or poltergeist. She wasn't going around breaking things or writing threatening messages on the walls. She wasn't even particularly mischievous. She was just... around. Sometimes visible, sometimes not. Yet even the smallest suggestion of her existence was a reminder of the evils of the world, that out there was a killer who had yet to be punished for his crimes, and that made Kendra frustrated. Not angry or afraid. Just frustrated, because once again she felt the universe had placed the responsibility on her shoulders to do something about it. As far as the public was aware, Grace was still just a 'missing person'. No body uncovered, no witnesses stepped forward. Her ghost being here was the only proof that a crime had been committed, and that wasn't enough to get anyone involved. All Kendra could do was check the news daily, waiting for some evidence of the girl's death to come to light, and Kendra had no idea what she'd do when it finally did. She wanted to help Grace, she really did, but she was also tired. Just really tired of always knowing these things, of being privy to the horrors of the world while simultaneously having no real power to prevent or change them.

And finally, there was today. Kendra stared down at the playing cards on the table. In the grand scheme of things, the theft of her tarot deck was not a big deal. Kendra really didn't need them, her visions came regardless of where she was and what she was doing. In fact, when Aliss had first gifted them to her for her birthday, Kendra had initially assumed the other girl was making fun of her. Now though, they'd become sort of comforting, a tool used for self-reflection. Aliss and her had gotten into the habit of picking out a card every day. Sometimes the cards would seem random, but most of the time they managed to be quite poignant to something that was going on in Kendra's life. Maybe they had some power after all.

But now they were gone, replaced with a cheap deck of playing cards. Did the thief think that would be enough to avoid suspicion? What did they even want with a deck of tarot? They were nice cards, one of those special artsy decks you could get of Etsy, but not worth being the only thing someone stole.

As Kendra was considering, she vaguely aware of the phones ringing background. They'd been ringing early that day and hadn't stopped since the three of them had returned. She avoided answering them, suspecting them to be a scammer or some such, but the noise was constant and starting to really grate on her nerves.

"Could someone please get that?" Kendra suddenly said, an obvious edge to her voice. However, almost as soon as she said this, the calls suddenly stopped. She glanced around her, first looking towards where Trinity was, then Aliss. Neither were on the phone, yet now there was silence.

Weird. But she could worry about that later.

"Hey, Trin?" Kendra said, eyes fixing back on the deck as she spoke. "You don't need to like, lift these for fingerprints or anything? I want to try something that might be a little faster." She pointed to the deck on the table. Trinity was aware of Kendra's abilities, had been since they'd been at college together. While she much more rational, scientifically-minded individual than either Kendra or Aliss, even she had a hard time Kendra's little 'hunches' had turned out to be correct.

Mitra turned over the trinket made from animal bone as he sat at the dining room table. He'd come home, found the small package bearing his name, and now he was staring down the Totem of Prey. He re-checked the handwritten return address, which had been torn and rained upon, smudging the ink to unreadability. Was it enchanted to be destroyed? Or had it been coincidence?

Hell of a coincidence, he mused. Someone didn't want him knowing who they were. They had chosen to send him a warning - someone knew he was a demon (or, well, had become able to become a demon - blargh. Forget it, it was ultimately semantics that no one particularly cared about) and someone (else?) didn't like that. Yeah, it was probably two separate people. Very few hunters were interested in warning their prey. In fact, it was probably a warning that Winchester knew about him and would be on his ass.

(He'd heard about Abberline Winchester, in fact, before the radio tonight confirmed his presence in town. He thought he'd kept a low profile, but apparently not, not if someone felt the need to send the Totem of Prey. On the topic of the radio, he'd get his mother-in-law a good bottle of 'rak and personally inspect any other gifts she got. Just in case Farley got any smart ideas.)

So it raised the issue - who saw fit to warn him? They had to know what happened to him, since it was addressed to Mitra personally and not the Singh couple. Maybe it wasn't even warning about Winchester - maybe it was a general warning, like 'hey you've been really active, might want to reel that in before you get noticed by someone more violent'. Maybe it was someone who he'd dealt with before. That set his shoulders down. Yeah, that made sense - he'd cut a few good deals in the city, both as a human and a demon. Some of those folk probably owed him, since he got them what they wanted without selling their soul. And one, concerned for him, sent him a warning about Winchester. That was the explanation he was going to go with, until he got evidence saying otherwise.

And of course he wasn't going to tell Ravindra. That'd just set his nerves on edge and make him more desperate to gain some kind of power if he thought Mitra was in trouble. Mitra was not in trouble, not yet, and there was nothing worth worrying his husband over. He might tell Mrs. Singh, if only because she had a bad habit of finding out these things anyways, but that could wait until he had a better idea of who sent the Totem. For now, he pocketed the Totem and began ripping the written-on flaps from the cardboard box. He needed to break down the small package before Ravi got home and started asking pertinent and pointed questions about the mysterious package.

That was when the trumpets started.

"Oh, why now?" He was all too familiar with the sound, and frankly he was not feeling ready for this. He considered slipping into his more demonic form before deciding against it - he might lose the Totem in the process or destroy it. Instead, he checked his reflection in the china closet - hair was a bit messy, he could fix that. Jacket was askew, he could straighten that. Was that a bruise peeking out from under his shirt? Crap, had that been visible all day? His face flushed as he moved the shirt to try to cover it up. He tried to will the blush away, though he could still feel it warming the tips of his ears as the trumpets grew louder, accompanied by cymbals and other instruments.

He moved to the living room, where the instruments grew ever louder. Good - if his boss manifested halfway through the china closet, both Ravindra and Mrs. Singh would be quite upset. All he could do was wait, wait and see what King Paimon wanted of him today.

@Guardian Angel Haruki
"Grace! I hope I've found you in good spirits tonight, child." Mr. Dialtone's cheery voice greeted you from within the receiver. "I need to cash in your Debt. Did you catch the headlines on Awareness Radio earlier? Ol' Edward Farley bein' done wrong by someone in the City Council? Well he ain't about to take that lyin' down. And I can only do so much from in here, so I need somebody to lend a hand from out there. Reckon you could be that somebody?"

@XxFellsingxX
"I doubt lifting prints from those cards would help." Trinity tells you with a shrug. "This looks like the Trader's work. Faeries don't leave fingerprints. Do your thing, Kendra."

@RBYDark
A portal appears in the living room doorway, the music now sounding like it stems from the portal rather than everywhere and nowhere at the same time. After that, it doesn't take long for the musicians to start manifesting. They march into the living room out of thin air, playing their music loud and proud. Once they have all walked through the portal, the musicians sort themselves into two lines that form a walkway between the portal and you.

The music then begins to build and build as the sigil of Paimon appears on the surface of the portal. Then, as the music reaches its crescendo, a crowned dromedary camel steps into the living room, the King of the West riding upon its back. The camel moves along the walk way at a relaxed pace as its rider lounges on its back and enjoys the music. As always, King Paimon is as ostentatious as he is beautiful.

The camel stops as it reaches you, its arrival coinciding perfectly with the end of the musicians' song. Paimon looks down upon you then and speaks. "Ni, Paimon, Cin j'ez harl Klith mej Av Ith'mab Egjeth ez Lucifer, glevjixel ao pafrel ilgwej, Mitra Singh!" The King of the West exclaims in joyous greeting. As always, he arrives speaking in his native language, and will continue to do so until told to speak plain.

Kendra gave a nod to Trinity before picking up the playing cards. She tried to keep her expression as neutral a she did so, but to Aliss and Trinity she probably appeared quite grim. In truth, Kendra had also suspected the Trader was involved the moment she had seen what had been taken, yet had hoped if she didn't say it aloud it wouldn't be true and would turn out to be the workings of some mortal criminal instead. Visions of doom and ghost murder mysteries were bad enough without adding fae mischief into the mix. She supposed she should be grateful that the Trader had decided to pick on her rather than her less supernaturally-minded housemates. Kendra felt she brought them enough trouble already, after all.

That did beg the question though: did the Trader know from whom they were stealing from? The cards being their target suggested 'yes', but if so, wasn't that a bit risky? Taking from someone who could potentially locate them? Or was this just the beginning of some elaborate faerie game?

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Kendra closed her eyes and focused.

Mitra watched exhaustedly as the musicians manifested and lined up and then dropped into a kneel as Paimon's symbol manifested, followed by Paimon himself. He would admit, Paimon did know how to make an entrance. And the demon king was owed some measure of respect. He stood as Paimon came to a stop and kept himself from groaning as Paimon lapsed into his native tongue. On most visits, it was fascinating - Mitra would try to commit the words to memory, and he and Ravi had worked to try to understand the words in English or Hindi, whichever would get them closer to understanding the language. Success was minimal, but it was fun to try. Right now, though, Mitra just could not make himself care.

He cleared his throat as Paimon stopped speaking and responded in the sternest voice he could muster. "King Paimon, speak in my tongue." He had to resist the urge to tack on a 'please' - he'd already learned the hard way that a command and a request were two different things. Though once the command took effect - "Could you please repeat what you said in my tongue?" His smile was tired. "I know I heard my name at the end there, but I didn't fully catch the rest." Was there something about Lucifer? Of course, there was no guarantee Paimon would listen.

Grace

Grace couldn't help but smile a bit at the pun, and she quipped back with a greeting, "I see you're galvanic as usual, Mr. Dialtone," She listened as he started with the fact that he wanted to cash in her debt to him. After he asked if she caught the headlines, she nodded and answered, "Oh yes, I heard the headlines,"

She grew concerned upon hearing that Farley wasn't going to let Chandra's opposition slide. When he asked her if she could help Chandra, she answered him, "Of course I can be that spectral helping hand." She wasn't about to say 'No' in this situation, considering what Farley and the CEO did to her. Plus, she wasn't about to scoff at a debt that she owed. But she did realize that there was much she still didn't know about the situation.

She asked Mr. Dialtone, "However, I will need details in order to be effective. Such as where can I find Mrs. Chandra Singh? If Farley and his goons are planning to murder Mrs. Singh, is there a safe house I can get her to? I don't know if I can impose on Kendra any more than I already have,"

@XxFellsingxX
You call upon your powers and your powers answer, granting you visions of the deck's past, the secrets it has been in the presence of, and the feelings it has been saturated in.

The first vision is of the cards sitting on a table in a living room devoid of people. After a few moments of nothing happening, a small goblin in a threadbare dress crawls out from under a sofa, radiating feelings of entrepreneurial eagerness as she begins to search the room. The goblin eventually stops to look at the cards on the table, letting out a very impressed "Ooh." as she radiates curiosity and a strong desire to possess the cards. The goblin then reaches down to a satchel that is hanging across one shoulder and begins rummaging around in it, eventually pulling out a handful of poker chips which she then proceeds to set down on the table before taking the cards, slipping them into her satchel, and crawling back under the sofa from whence she came as she radiates a feeling of satisfaction at a good deal done.

The scene of the vision then changes from the poker chips sitting on a table in an empty living room to the cards sitting on a table in a simple hovel with two people in it. One the goblin from before. The other a homunculus in business attire tailored specifically for its small size. No strong feelings can be detected from the homunculus, but the goblin is still radiating that same entrepreneurial eagerness she had back in the first vision. "Now just to be clear, my master isn't interested in the cheap imitations that have become so common on Earth." The homunculus says. "He wants genuine tarot cards. The kind that can be used as prophetic tools. You will be rewarded handsomely for every deck you find. Do you find this deal to be to your liking?" The goblin nods her head furiously, the eager grin on her face more than enough to show that she feels that this is an exceptionally good deal.

There is one last change in scenery then. This time, the vision begins in darkness. After a few moments, light shines down from somewhere up above, revealing that this last vision has begun inside the goblin's satchel. Still radiating that same feeling of entrepreneurial eagerness, the goblin pulls the deck of playing cards out of her satchel, revealing the interior of your apartment. The goblin is standing over your tarot cards, which she proceeds to pick up and replace with the playing cards. The goblin then stows the tarot cards away and crawls under a nearby sofa, feelings of satisfaction at a good deal done and excitement for another big payday fully detectable even though she is a good distance away from the cards now. As the goblin crawls though, an eight ball falls out of her satchel without her noticing and rolls under a foot stool as the goblin disappears into the darkness.

Once free of the visions, you would easily be able to find the eight ball and realize that you could use it to track down the goblin. Misty Starbuck, a wizard indebted to you, knows a tracking spell. All she would need is something that belongs to the goblin, something like the eight ball, and she'd be able to point you in the right direction.

@RBYDark
The King of the West grins at your command and subsequent request to speak plain. "I merely spoke a greeting to you just now. Something hardly important enough to warrant repeating." Paimon states, speaking now in Hindi. "What is important is that I have a task for you." At those words, a scroll sealed with the sigil of Paimon materializes floating in midair in front of you. "You are to take this scroll to the wizard known as Misty Starbuck with all haste." Paimon commands you. "She lairs in the abandoned Shakes dance studio on the outskirts of the city. I would suggest beginning your search there."

@Guardian Angel Haruki
"Don't you worry yourself a moment about Kendra and Chandra." Mr. Dialtone says reassuringly. "Mrs. Singh's son-in-law, Mitra, is one hell of a hindrance to any would be assassin. Her life's in good hands. Her career is a different story though. Farley's fixin' to have her replaced. I don't know how he's gonna do it, but it involves findin' the right set of tarot cards. Kinda like the ones Kendra just had swiped. You help them find the thief, I'm fairly certain it'll set Farley back just enough that he'll hold off on goin' after Chandra for the time bein'."

As Kendra recovered from her vision and tracking down the magic eight ball, she felt whimsical enough to ask it question. "Magic eight ball, how likely is this whole thing going to turn into a wild goose chase?" she said before giving it a little shake.

After a moment, the eight ball responded: "Better not tell you now."

Kendra glared down at the object. "Smartass," they muttered. She turned her attention back to her roommates. "Hey, either of you busy? Need someone to give me a lift," she asked. Given the spontaneity of her visions, she didn't like to drive herself, even though she could. Far too hazardous.

Grace

Grace couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the mention of Chandra Singh's son-in-law. She didn't exactly know who that was right now. She doesn't even realize that she had seen him before...

She listened to Mr. Dialtone as he continued his explanation. She answered his words, with a grin, and the excited and understanding tone clear in her voice, "Ahhh, I see now,"

She looks back towards Kendra's room and she comments, "Then I better get back to Kendra's side soon. Knowing her, she's probably 'seen' something by now. Is there anything else that I should know before we end this electric conversation?"

Oh good, Hindi. Mitra was a lot better with the complexities of that tongue. He was not surprised to hear his request dismissed - it was a trivial thing, he supposed, and Paimon clearly had other things on his mind. These things were made clear as he manifested the scroll, which Mitra plucked out of midair. Curiosity bit at him, but he pushed it down to listen to Paimon.

Patience was a virtue, and virtues were in short supply these days. Besides, if he opened the scroll early, he suspected Paimon would know. Just, try to be patient and listen.

Deliver the scroll to - Misty Starbuck? Mitra had to consciously bite his tongue to keep himself from exclaiming his, frankly immature, response to it. Wasn't his business if it was really made up or not and why. He needed to focus on the details instead. Shakes dance studio. He could recall back when it wasn't abandoned and he and Ravi would pass it on the way to school. Nice place. He guessed there were some money issues to make it close down, and someone named Misty Starbuck had claimed it for herself. Honestly, it wasn't painting a good picture. He contemplated asking how old she was, or if she was expecting a man or demon to be delivering the message. But instead, his mouth spoke.

"Thank you, my King. It will be done."

Virtues were in short supplies these days, and patience was no exception.

@XxFellsingxX
"Much as I'd love to join you on this latest adventure, I promised Charity I'd help her with her homework." Aliss apologizes.

Trinity considers your request for a moment. You know that she likes to relax for an hour or so once she gets back from work. But at the same time, you also know that she's well aware of the fact that a vision coming to you while you're behind the wheel would end poorly more often than not. "...Alright. I'll drive." She finally concedes. "But you're buying drive through if you don't want to walk back."

@Guardian Angel Haruki
"There is one thing." Mr. Dialtone says. "That new hunter in town, Abberline Winchester. My sources say he's gunnin' for the Trader. If you want to help Kendra find their cards, you'd better do it fast. And be careful out there, child. This city ain't usually the safest of places durin' the night, but it'll be all the more deadly while Winchester's out there. Even for those who've died once already. See you around." With that said, the call disconnects.

@RBYDark
"By the way, do be careful out there." Paimon adds as his musical procession forms up in front of the portal. "Between your mother-in-law kicking the hornets' nest, that enterprising little thief-merchant from Arcadia, and that new trophy hunter prowling the night, things are dicier than usual in this corner of the Earth... Give Ravi my regards when next you see him." With that said, Paimon's camel turns around and the musicians strike up another tune. Soon enough, you are alone.

Grace

When Grace first heard about this mission, she thought it would be easy to get the tarot cards back. But now hearing that Abberline Winchester is practically after the Trader's head? If a ghost could sweat, she'd now be sweating bullets. The phone disconnects before she can say anything else, and she looks concerned as she hangs up the phone and lets herself become nothing more than air once again as she comments, "I better hurry then..."

She then phases through the wall and makes it back to Kendra's side.

As soon as Kendra's alone, Grace manifests so she could be felt and heard, and she boops Kendra's nose while quoting a Legend of Zelda fairy in a comical greeting, "Heeeey, Listen!"

She makes her point to Kendra, "I'm coming with you to help you get your tarot cards back. Mr. Dialtone just cashed in my debt to him. Also, you might want to be extremely careful. Apparently Abberline Winchester is also after the Trader,"

Kendra nodded to Aliss, before turning back to Trinity. "Sure," she said. "Sounds good to me. I'll go get my stuff." She turned away, and was in the process of gathering up her coat and bag when a certain specter materialized from nowhere and gave her gentle yet surprising boop on the nose. They jumped slightly, before turning her gaze on Grace. "One of these days," they said, shaking their head slightly as they took a deep breath to recover from the shock. "One of these days, you are going to give me, or someone else, a heart attack." Grace's words didn't help her stress either, as she recalled her earlier vision about Abberline Winchester. "Oh boy. First a kleptomaniac fae, now a psychotic hunter," she responded in a flat voice contrary to words. She glanced back down at the magic eight-ball still clutched in her hand. "Magic eight-ball, could my evening get anymore exhilarating?" She gave the object another little shake.

The object responded yet again with a non-committal answer: "Cannot predict now."

Kendra grimaced. "You know, I never understood the appeal of these things," they said to Grace as they held the eight ball up for the ghost to see. "I mean, granted, I don't see the appeal of most of these hokey divination tools, but this one in particular seems pretty unhelpful."

Mitra bowed and waved Paimon and his band of performers off. Once the portal was closed, though, he let out a deep sigh. Paimon could be a lot at times to serve, though this had felt like one of his more restrained visits. So many things to look out for that posed a danger to him and his family - gosh, he just wanted to crawl into bed and fall asleep. But Paimon had given him a mission. Rest and worry would have to wait.

He got up and went back to the kitchen to search the junk drawer - the drawer where things like pens that had made their way to the counter, old super glue tubes, rubber bands that had held tupperware shut but since fulfilled their purpose, all sorts of things that would be dealt with 'later' (and of course, 'later' never happened). Ther, among the mess, was a notepad. He yanked off a sheet, grabbed one of the pens, and hunched over the counter to write.

Ravi,

Sorry I missed you - His Majesty wants me to deliver a message. No idea how long it'll take, so please have dinner without me. I'm headed over to the old dance studio. The one we used to pass on the way to school, remember? I'll be careful, but if I haven't checked in by 11, I'll understand if you call someone. I'll let you know more once I check in.

Also, King Paimon says hello.

♥ Mitra

He placed the note on the table. He didn't like the idea of Paimon saying hello to Ravindra, that's how this whole mess got started, but they'd both be at him if he didn't pass the simple message along.He gave the table one last look-over to ensure he hadn't left any trace of that small package's arrival. The only evidence of its existence was the prey totem in his pocket; he slipped his hand into his pocket to make sure it hadn't fallen out. Ravi didn't need to know, not yet. He checked his other pocket for his phone - decent charge, it was fine - before leaving the apartment, locking up behind him.

His car was no junker, but it also managed to clash with his general style, which was to say, it had none. He'd bought it some years ago despite its canary yellow paint job and swore he was going to get it redone to something metallic or at least neutral. So far, that hadn't happened. It was bulky too, a compromise made at the time for his mother-in-law who worried about insurance rates and safety and sports cars. It hadn't bothered him until after his deal with Paimon, but he had yet to tell anyone he was giving serious thought to trading it in for something flashier and probably less safe.

Mitra got into the car, turned it on, and changed the radio to the local rock n' roll station. Loud music blared from his speakers as he pulled out of his spot and began the trip to the Shakes dance studio.

Grace

Grace couldn't help but laugh a bit at Kendra's reaction to her sudden manifestation. She answered the oracle's comment about the heart attack, "Can you blame me? I kinda need the practice," She silently reveled in the thought of giving her murderer a heart attack.

She listens to Kendra as she comments on the fact that they're going to be facing a kleptomaniac fae and a psychopathic hunter, before consulting a magic eight ball.

Grace answered Kendra's words, "Umm...That's probably because Magic Eight Balls were mainly made to be toys, not as an actual fortune telling device. At least, that's what I remember from doing a research project back in Elementary School,"

She then asked Kendra, "Since when did you have that Magic Eight Ball, anyways? I don't remember seeing that in your room before,"

Kendra glanced at Grace when she made the comment about needing practice. They had a feeling they knew what, or rather who, the spirit was referring to, and wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. Was Grace just joking or did she seriously hope to take out her murderer that way? On one hand, it would probably be a simpler way to deal with him than trying to find enough evidence to get him convicted. On the other hand, what was to stop him coming back as a spirit himself, and likely a much more dangerous, malevolent one than Grace herself? While Kendra had been aware of the supernatural for some time, they hadn't had much experience with ghosts until Grace showed up. Now she was left with that existential concern: what cause people to linger after death? Obviously, it didn't happen to everyone, and it wasn't a curse that was passed on like vampirism or lycanthropy.

What's to stop me from coming back after I die? was the question Kendra was trying not to ask herself. She found the world an aggravating enough place in life, to think she'd still have to put up with it even after death was ghastly. But then again, what was the alternative? Once Grace passed on - if she passed on - where would she go? Was there really a heaven? A purgatory? A hell? Was reincarnation true? Something else entirely? Or was there nothing? And which of these options was worse? It was questions like these Kendra had found herself wondering about ever since Grace had come into her life, and questions she had been doing her best not to bring up with the girl in question. They wondered if these things had occurred to Grace.

"Hm?" Kendra had been so caught up in their own thoughts, they'd almost missed Grace's question. "Oh this! The Trader dropped it when they took my cards. I'm hoping a certain spellcaster I know might be able to use her powers on it to help me track the Trader down." She grimaced. "Hopefully we can reach them before Abberline finds them. Otherwise, I might end up having yet another spectral roommate."

Can fae even come back as ghosts? Kendra had to stop herself from adding, before shaking her head as if physically trying to shake those thoughts from her mind. Nope. No more of that. Find the tarot cards first, have existential dread later.

Grace

Grace listened to Kendra as she answered her question regarding to the Magic Eight Ball. Grace unwittingly asked Kendra's question, "Can fae even come back as ghosts?"

She then shrugged her shoulders and she said to Kendra, "Let's get going, then! No time to waste, right? Don't worry, I'll be with you," After that, she allowed herself to fade from her manifestation and follow Kendra when she was ready to go.

@RBYDark
The drive to the studio is largely uneventful by the standards of the city you live in. You drive past a vampire charming a meal out of a pretty face one moment, a werewolf stalks you as you pass through a neighborhood it has claimed as its territory the next, but nothing gets in your way though. The only noteworthy event that actually effects you is when you pull into the parking lot of the abandoned Shakes dance studio. As you do so, you notice another car pulling in through the entrance opposite the one you're pulling in through.

@XxFellsingxX
You finish your preparations and head out to the car, Trinity has already started it up so you are nice and safe from the chill of the night when you climb in. Aside from Trinity being indecisive over which radio station she wants to listen to, nothing much happens on the ride. Occasionally, you would catch glimpses of the city's goings on. The day shops closing their doors as the night shops open theirs. The occasional old timer in a beat up pick-up making a supply run or a delivery run. But nothing that immediately concerns you until you pull into the Shakes studio parking lot and see another car over at the opposite entrance doing the same.

@Guardian Angel Haruki
Your intangible form keeps pace with the car easily enough. And thankfully no one seems interested in bothering you or your friends. A few of the spectres you fly past are even varying degrees of friendly, calling out greetings or warning you to stay safe out there with Farley, Abberline, and the Trader out and about. When you arrive at the abandoned studio, you notice the other car pulling into the parking lot just as quickly as Kendra does. But from your vantage point above the car you also catch sight of a woman in the building through one of the upper level windows... As well as the man holding her at gunpoint.

@Candykane
Life can have quite the sense of humor sometimes. Take tonight for example. Within an hour of hearing Mr. Dialtone talk about Abberline Winchester on the radio, the sound of a rifle round being chambered alerted you to the presence of that very same hunter in your sanctum, armed with a high-powered, scoped, silenced, drum-fed abomination of a gun which he has pointed directly at you. He claims he hasn't come to kill you though. "I'm looking for a faerie." Abberline explains. "Perhaps you may have heard of them. Here on Earth, they are known as the Trader." Abberline pauses then to produce an empty bag labeled 'Candy'. "I have an item of theirs and I know your kind can use magic to track your prey using items they own." Abberline states as he tosses the bag to you. "You point me in the Trader's direction and I forget your choice of profession long enough for you to find a new lair. Do you find this offer agreeable?"