The Cozy Bakery
Downtown North District
Interacts: Open

Elijah does not venture into the north side of town much. Even though he feels safer, he fits in better there. At least how he dressed normally makes him stand out in the south side. Mainly due to time constraints with his job and low funds. But he still finds the time to go up there when he is free. Still, there is a place on the north side he would like to try out, The Cozy Bakery.

He had heard good things about the place and figured that he could try the place out. Maybe see how it compares to a small bakery that he used to go to in Glimmer. Granted, the food here in Dazzle tastes the same as it did in Glimmer and Elijah is not sure if this is just a coincidence or if food just tastes the same no matter the reality.

Either way, Elijah ventured inside, and the first thing that hit him was the smell. The delicious aroma of fresh baked goods reminded him of that old bakery from Glimmer. So far, so good, he thought, but it's time to see how it compares in taste. So Elijah walked around and looked at the various baked goods. The place certainly had the assortment he is used to and was well stocked.

But after some time, walking past a woman with her child, Elijah decided on getting two buttered croissants. It has been ages since he had french anything and buttered croissants is something he feels right now. So he walked up to a smiling worker behind the counter and spoke. "I would like two buttered croissants, please, and stood there waiting for his food.

┤ Idles-In-Shade ├

---

┤ Location: Berny Park, Lower District, Cloverfield
┤ Date: 20:00 EST 23 November 2024 (Sunday)
┤ Mentions: N/A

Three men nearer to the eastern entrance - they had only just crossed the precipice, the crow said - dressed in tattered coats and ragged shoes with a shopping cart. He could hear the squeal of one wheel as it doubtless trundled further into the park since they’d first been seen, a high-pitched cry. They weren’t loud, though, not yelling, not cheering one-another, not upsetting the park. Another would be watching them still, he knew. He’d told them to.

Glass eyes stared into the distance as he listened. Little hands clutched a dull-shine needle as it passed in and out of the weave, a green-red fabric picked by the offerings of one old-time resident. Coarse fur, no longer the great sheen that it had been before, stood on-end here, there. The crow paid no attention to such strangeness. It had no need to do so, just as it had no need to be referred to as a he or she. It was a tool created for the purposes of the fortress, just the same as the winding trails were both the walls of that fortress and its courtyards. In and out that needle dove, hands working without his concentration upon them.

The branch gently swayed, both by the cold breeze and by the little motions of his hands. They were known to the crow, for he’d seen them before just four weeks prior. Old time residents who came and went when there was no other choice. Old time residents who knew the rules they had to follow and the safety that was promised. Old time residents who weren’t going to make a mess as they left. They were acceptable, he felt. They didn’t impose themselves often after all, didn’t try to turn the park into their own, didn’t try to trash the trails. The crow continued its report. There was more.

A couple walking through the south end…they didn’t sound familiar. Humans were strange to look to a park for their privacy, to do their strangeness, and these two sounded like a pair. Well, as much as a pair as humans deigned to be at any given time. He had never taken much care to learn, in one way or another, how they came to be, how they settled to be, how such had differences. Some were pairs for a moment, a passing of cash between, some pairs for a month, some pairs for a life. It wasn’t something he’d had much experience in, back before. The creator had broken the normal rules in pairings, had been seen as more to those who followed him for the brief times. In any case…they were not violators of the rules as he considered them. They well could be, though. Something to be continued to be watched, that’s what they were.

Others in the park, here and there. Not many. Not many that he recognized, either, compared to the first three. A long exhale, cold and rattling, as yelling broke through the air in the close distance. People were always yelling now and again at such hours, yelling about things that never did seem to matter, yelling about things that did. Ears pricked up, small little coarse hairs falling from his ears as the hands finally ceased their incessant knitting. Which was it? Would it even really matter? Curiosity was the excuse, of course, that inward excuse he used to comfort his own conscience about the idea of meddling about with the city surrounding his fortress, curiosity and a need to know the situations beyond his walls for safety and security. Only fools believed that the conditions beyond one's defenses didn't matter. And yet…and yet it was coupled with something else. That second component was a strange feeling, an uncomfortable feeling, one of a small desire to know if it did or didn't matter, one to interfere if too serious. He could shake it away, true enough, shake it away and consider the whole matter closed. If he chanced the idea of help then the fortress itself might be compromised. And yet, yet still despite all that, some portion…

Glassy eyes were still open, watching as the branch that once stretched out before him normally turn…strange. The end seemed to curved and turn as leaves once well out of the way began to grow out and away, curving in against itself. The ground seemed further away, the dark sky still a ceiling, as the question asked again and again inside of his mind. The crow was long forgotten amid all this, flying away through a hole in the branches that hadn’t been there before.

And then…the inward conflict died away with the yelling. The question no longer needed to be asked. The branch kept to its impossible, betrayed shape as he repeated mantras to himself, words of comfort, words of duty. The pounding of a still heart died in his ears.

He looked about. No one was there on the still branch with him.

Did he want…no. He did not want another there with him. That wouldn’t be right. That wouldn’t be good. He breathed, in and out, in and out, and eventually Idles-In-Shade allowed himself to pass into sleep.

---

---

---

---

---

---

The doppelganger's eyes glinted as Vin, who was now in the form of a tiger, burst through the door and it laughed before a guttural snarl filled the room and echoed out into the surrounding neighborhood. The room shook with the roar's force, and snow began to tumble down from the rooftops above. The thing that wore David’s face grinned wider than any human jaw should stretch, its cheeks tearing grotesquely at the corners. “You should know better than to get between a predator,” the false David’s arm twisted and contorted, bones snapping audibly as it extended outward like a whip with fingers splintering into barbed, writhing tendrils, “and its prey.” The doppelganger shot the tendrils into David’s chest. It easily pierced through his clothes and deep into the man's chest, and he could only gasp in horror before his head went limp, his skin drew taught, and his body was sucked away until only the clothes remained on the chair which he was formerly tied to. The David that the Lower Districts knew and loved was gone. Killed by a monster whose eyes were locked on its next victim.

Before Vin could act, the doppelganger’s body rippled and shifted. Its torso split open, revealing a grotesque maw lined with jagged, interlocking teeth. David's false face was still attached to what was once the neck, but it grew limp. Its eyes rolled back, with only the whites visible. Yet Vin could see that the eyes were shifting as if it was looking through the wall until they lined up with where Palmona would be behind it. The doppelganger laughed as it sniffed the air. Its laughter was a rasping, inhuman sound that seemed to carry a chill with it that cut through to the bone. Both Paloma and Vin would feel like the air inside the building dropped several degrees at once. The doppelganger’s other arm elongated in an instant, twisting and turning and filling the air with the sounds of bones snapping and muscles ripping until the end of the arm resembled a spear-like appendage that pointed towards Paloma through the wall. “Ahhhh the sweet naivety of a newborn. Tell me, apparition, have you experienced the death of a host yet?”

“Vin what the fuck is that,” Malik asked as he flipped the safety on his now unholstered pistol. An orange glow began to emanate outward from the weapon.

“We can take it,” Caleb responded as a spear of fire erupted from his left hand and a shield of ice from his right.

“Only one way to find out,” the doppelganger teased as its eyes shifted back towards Vin. A moment of silence fell over the room before the monster unleashed its first strike, thrusting the spear towards the wall and aimed at Paloma.

---

---

---

---

---

---

The brick hurtled through the air, slamming into the doppelganger’s head with a crack. Its skull dented inward, but instead of crumpling, the impact sent a ripple across its face like a stone tossed into a pond. The doppelganger’s head elongated grotesquely, its neck stretching like melted wax as it absorbed the force, then it snapped back into shape with a sickening pop. The creature cracked its neck left, then right, and then it settled its eyes on Bryn and licked its lips with an unfathomably long tongue that was as long as the neck was tall. “Now that wasn’t very ladylike, Bryn, what would your mother think of what you have become,” The doppelganger chuckled as its shoulders twisted and contorted before there was a pop that filled the air as both arms pulled themselves out of the socket. Each arm was lengthened until they were both twice the length they were previously, and as it finished the exegeting spell they split right down the middle, muscle sinew and black blood visible as they pulled apart. Soon, Bill was a four-armed monstrosity with incredible reach and its head turned towards Bryn once more. “Does it ever hurt knowing you are the failure of your family?

Elara took a step back as she watched the transformation unfold before her. Her mouth was agape, and she nearly stumbled as she took another step further. She had never seen anything quite like this before. Never before has a creature that matched this description haunted her town, and she did not remember if the Elders ever warned the Grove about them. Most importantly, she did not know how to kill it. She summoned the lightning arrow into her free hand, notched the arrow, and let it loose in one quick movement. The arrow impacted less than a second later. As it hit, blue streaks of electricity arched across the flesh of the doppelganger as it tore a path through the chest of the creature. The creature did not react as the lightning buried a deep hole, instead, it simply opened its mouth revealing two rows of teeth that arched with lightning. It sent two fists out and struck Elara in the chest, sending her flying through the window behind her, and the remaining two fists struck out at Varnan and Bryn, each one arcing with lightning.

Elara was sent flying through the window of the tattoo parlor and landed in the street, rolling to a stop after a few seconds. She felt a rib crack as she hit the asphalt of the road, and she groaned as she rolled over to her side. Elara took a deep breath and pushed herself to her feet. She looked down the road both ways and saw that no one was walking the road this early in the morning. She notched another lightning arrow and looked towards the monster, her eyes narrowing as she did, and fired another arrow through the broken window before she charged back inside.

---

---

---

---

---

---

Freya was in over her head. The morning rush was relentless, and without Varnan’s help, she was practically spinning in circles trying to keep up. She turned to the next customer and found herself face-to-face with a man who seemed out of place among the regulars. Impeccably dressed in a crisp suit, he stood there with a smile that was polite but a touch... too much. It crossed from ear to ear. Freya knew her bakery was popular but not that popular. She remembered that he was smiling like that while waiting in the line outside. Something seemed off about James today.

“Good morning! What can I get for you?” Freya asked, pushing through her exhaustion with her best customer-service smile. While her face showed a smile her eyes screamed ‘kill me now’.

The man’s eyes, dark and unblinking, stayed fixed on her. “Freya, isn't it? I must say, your bakery is... quite the operation,” Jaes said, his tone almost too smooth, as if he were reciting lines he’d rehearsed all morning before coming out.

“Uh, thanks,” Freya replied, her hands not stopping as she filled a coffee for herself. Freya knew he knew her name, she found it strange that he clarified names. “What’cha ordering today, James? If you’re looking for a chat and you’re not ordering anything, I’m kind of busy here.” James had asked her out three times already and had made it an uncomfortable habit to visit in the mornings to chat. She wondered if he thought he had a chance still.

James tilted his head, still watching her with that uncomfortably steady gaze. “Oh, I’m just... observing. You seem quite... flustered today. But I suppose that’s only natural when your staff is short-handed. Varnan, yes? Where is he right now? Something tells me he is very busy.” The way his grin grew suggested he may know something about what Varnan was up to.

Freya’s hands paused for a fraction of a second. “Yeah, he’s out on PTO. But I am getting by without him. I started this shop by myself so I can be by myself.”

“Getting by,” James repeated, rolling the words slowly like he was savoring them. “You seem to carry a lot on those shoulders of yours. It must be... exhausting, running everything on your own.” James leaned forward, chest pressing over the counter.

Freya couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about James today. He was being much more forward with his advances today. Freya tossed him a side-eye as she grabbed another breakfast sandwich for the customer that came before. “Part of the job James,” she said briskly, hoping he’d take the hint and move along. She looked around the shop to see if anyone was watching the man, just in case.

But James lingered, leaning in just a bit closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “I wonder... what keeps you going? Day after day, the same routine. The same faces. Don’t you ever... wish for a change?”

Freya narrowed her eyes, forcing a chuckle that came out more tense than she intended. What the fuck was wrong with James today? “I like what I do, thanks,” she said firmly. “But seriously, I’ve got a line here.”

James’s smile twitched, his eyes gleaming with some emption that Freya had trouble picking up. “Of course,” he said, stepping back. “But do think about it, won’t you? Change has a way of sneaking up when you least expect it.”

With that, he turned and walked out, his movements unnervingly smooth. Freya watched him go, a chill running down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold air seeping in through the open door. She shifted her eyes to the next person in line and took a deep breath as they seemed like they were not going to make her morning any worse than normal.

"I would like two buttered croissants, please.”

“Two buttered croissants coming up,” Freya grinned as she moved to grab the food, “thank you for saving me by the way,” Freya paused as she used her eyes to motion towards the door, “can I get a name for the order?”

---

---

Loni visibly relaxed further when she realised Elena was also a South sider. It wasn't discrimination on her part as much as it was anticipating it toward her. All of her customers were from the North, and none of them treated her badly (they couldn't), but that didn't mean they really treated her like a person. Then there was the judgement she got for being such a young mother. She knew people thought it was typical of someone like her - poor upbringing, a stripper. It all made her uncomfortable around people from the North. Even if it was all things she could brush off, she worried her daughter would understand it.

But she didn't get any of that from Elena.

“Nah ahhh mabah!” Luciana babbled, waving her hands at Elena again before twisting around to stare out the window excitedly. Loni laughed lightly, carefully holding Luciana as she wriggled around enough that she definitely would’ve fallen over without the support.

"Yes, nice to meet you too, very good, Lu," Loni said, managing to decipher the undecipherable. It wasn’t necessarily what she was actually saying… Loni wasn’t sure how much Luciana understood right now. All the books and articles she’d read said she should be speaking a lot more words by now, so she might not understand anything… it did worry her. But those worries weren’t for right now!

"You’re right about that! I always think you gotta count your blessings, y’know? Take the little things and meetings." Loni smiled brightly back, seeming to grow comfortable incredibly quickly. That was just how she was. As long as people showed a little openness, she was friendly and at ease. Even with those that didn’t… she made it work. "Even if the North’s pretty stuffy, there’s plenty of nice people who come round here. Like my boss! She ain’t from South but she don’t treat us like we’re any less. Makes sure no one else does too." She was surprisingly cheerful as she talked about work - bright and bubbly. She genuinely enjoyed her job, even if it wasn’t one a lot of people approved of, and everyone there was like family to her. "You work in the North too, or just come-"

"Mama..." Luciana interrupted. Her voice was suddenly quieter, not as cheerful, little hands grasping onto Loni's arms. She was staring at something - someone - near the door. Then she started to wail. "Mama, mamaaaa!"

"What is it, baby?" Loni immediately scooped up Luciana, holding her close and gently rocking her. Luciana hid her face in Loni's shoulder as she sobbed loudly, little body trembling. One arm pointed towards the door. Loni turned to follow it, staring down a well dressed man with a wide smile.

"M-maaama," Luciana's terrified voice was muffled by Loni's jumper. It pulled at Loni's heart to see her normally cheerful daughter like this. What the fuck had he done? It didn't matter what it was, because her baby was distressed.

"Sh, it's okay, my love, it's all okay," Loni gently bounced Luciana. Her eyes narrowed at the man. "Mama's got you."

Really, she should let it go, as much as it hurt to see her daughter like this. But she didn't want to. Maybe it was all those years of listening to Vin telling her how much the North sucked - about how she shouldn't put up with any shit from them or anyone else. Loni didn't really care, because she was content with how she lived, and she'd grown up being treated worse... But not when it came to Luciana. All her buried protective instincts came out for her. And if she let it go then she'd just be teaching Luciana to accept whatever was done to her.

"What did you do to my daughter?" Loni cradled Luciana against her chest, while glaring at the eerily smiling man. She took a step towards him, still near the table with Elena at it, and frowned. What did she want out of this? An apology. "Apologise to her. And stop creepily smilin' at kids. Maybe you think cause you're from the North you're above everyone, but you ain't! You can't just fuckin' scare my daughter like that."

---

---

”Stay back.”

Vin's arm came out to stop Paloma from getting past them, meaning she was trapped awkwardly close to them in her attempt to get past in the small doorway. But as it made itself known, it seemed more like a blessing. Vin wasn’t one to get disturbed easily, but even this made their stomach turn a little bit. Fuck, the boss was not going to be happy about this…

”Shit.”

With catlike reflexes, Vin's strong, striped arms wrapped around Paloma's waist and pushed her towards the ground. Vin flipped, landing them both on their side where Vin took the brunt of the impact, then rolled so Paloma was trapped underneath them. The spear meant for Paloma scraped their back. The wound started healing as soon as sticky blood matted their fur, and they didn't even flinch. It was nothing.

”It’s right. You should know better than to get between a predator and its prey.” There was an almost excited glint in Vin’s yellow eyes as they loomed over Paloma, keeping themselves held just above her. They quickly and carefully lowered themselves down to whisper in her ear. ”Stay down. Get out if there’s an opening.”

They pushed themselves back to their feet, looking towards Malik and Caleb. He hadn’t had the time to answer, too busy saving the fucking nosey woman’s life.

”Weird Apparition. Dunno, but I can fuckin’ hurt it. Cover me.” They cracked their neck, lips pulling back into a savage grin towards the doppelganger. A dark shadow rippled across their skin as they cast their Apparition Wounding spell across their body. It showed how they wanted to fight - properly and brutally. It wouldn’t weaken the creature, but it would hurt it just like it could hurt them.

A proper fight. A fun fight.

”Hey, bastard, pick on someone your own size,” Vin snarled, baring their sharp teeth at it. Hopefully it would ignore Paloma with three of them coming at it.

They jumped forward, closing the gap between them. Their sharp claws went right for the throat, enhanced to cause intense pain to apparitions, and their foot swept around to try and kick its legs out from under it.

---

Each day must begin with something joyous. The only rule one must follow for a happy, satisfied life is to maintain that same spirit with which the day begins, all the way until it ends. Consistency comes from understanding the process, and loving it as a pleasure rather than a duty. One does not need, for there is no need. One should be pleased, overjoyed at the idea that their life has been chosen for something more than breathing, eating and shitting. Necessity is only equal to the outside influence of life's peripheries, and to that outer influence, one must present the same spirit with which the day begins and ends. There shall be no pain in that life, for life itself is joy.

It is satisfaction, love, fulfillment and exploration. Victory in loss is found as easily as joy in success, and the ownness is upon the individual. One's life is exactly what they make it, even in the darkest moments. One's purpose is joy. Be thus, unto each and every other you meet, as you shall be their joy should you find it in yourself to become your own. That joy is the Mother's gift. It dangles from her antlers like ornaments in the branches of a tree, or like the lights in the night sky. Distant worlds, imperceptible until they're within grasping distance. A joy which the modern world consumes. But you will not be swayed by the darkness surrounding the joy. You will radiate, and that will be the contribut-

"Ma'am?"

The dimly lit room was smokey, a small draft traced through the haze as the sliding door rolled open not but a few inches. Just enough for a voice to come through without the present attendant's position compromised. Not that they had anything to worry about this morning... Moriah was dressed in a deep green robe, her body hidden under the layer of thick cloth. In one hand was a long-stemmed pipe from which rings of smoke curled up and out into the air when she puffed, and in the other was a small black leatherbound book which was beyond worn from years of usage. The private library of the residence hadn't been stripped and returned to the Ashram of Untouched Glory, leaving Moriah with tomes on tomes of knowledge and wisdom...

Yet she consistently returned to this book. The teachings of her Twin Grandmothers Allegra and Bella Motta. It was something like a guide to success, and was at the very least a clear and distinct picture of how her beloved Grandmothers thought about the world. As Greater Dames of the Sisterhood of Whispering Flesh, both were born the same way she was: Saturated in Joy. It was a crucial ingredient in making a Powerpuff- No... A Matriarch...

Moriah smiled as she heard the voice calling her attention.
"What troubles you, Little Sister?"
She hadn't adjusted any sort of makeup or skin affect, so she was at her most base form; olive skinned with warm features and deep green eyes beneath a well groomed mane of black hair. A thumb slipped into the bowl of her pipe, stuffing down the hot burning tobacco until she felt the last ember die beneath her finger.
"Your cellphone... A message."

The young woman behind the door slid it open a little wider, a dark cloth blindfold over her eyes as she entered. Training, meant to feel the world with her Lux rather than see it with her eyes. Everything that had ever lived still reacted in some way to the green of the Deer, thus it was common for young Matriarchs to live without their eyes for several years after being born. She was here to study, but for all intents and purposes, she was simply a servant. Not a lot of hope, as her contributions were subpar at best. Moriah felt sorry for her and any other born as a Lesser Dame... But she recognized that the girl had the spark for Joy. She was one with the Deer no matter her circumstance.

Her feet took her across the room gracefully, her hand sliding out to Moriah to pass off the little glass piece of technology.

"shit bad mo b rnd l8r”

That wasn't a normal message. There wasn't much thought in the reply, her thumb flicking up to the "k" key and sending the simple reply off. She took a deep breath. The girl heard, and felt the Lux of her mistress ripple in the dark behind her blind.
"Bad news?" she asked innocently, reactively stooping to kneel at Moriah's feet like any student would before their teacher.

She waited for wisdom and guidance, but felt a familiar hand grace her cheek and swipe upwards. Without hesitation, she stood back up.
"I really don't know yet. But we'll find out soon, won't we?-" Moriah said calmly, planting a kiss on the girl's forehead. "-Never you mind it... Now, come. It's time to get dressed and shine upon the day."
"Have you eaten, Mistress?"
"Lugar Apartado... I've business."

Wordlessly, the girl nodded. Four steps separated the two of them as Moriah slipped from the room and up the stairs, her flesh already reacting to the influence of Moriah's Green Lux as she began her mobile breathing exercises. Pulling the pigment from her skin, by the time she reached the top she was already pale and paper white. Her skin was cold to the touch, blood vessels pulled down to the lowest possible part of her flesh. Melanated skin cells crawled across her lips and eyelids, turning them brown before settling on a deep and dark black and letting natural oils build up to give them a glossy sheen.

The robe came away, a gentle whooshing noise prompting the young Dame to reach her arms out. The cloth fell between them perfectly, and she turned to bring it to its place while her mistress gathered herself. Admired herself... Choosing the tiger-stripes of the day. Fully nude, she stared at herself for longer than was necessary as she artistically reconstituted parts of her flesh into a design. The genetalia swinging from her pelvis was flushed with blood the moment she took it into her hand, standing on end as she hoisted the attached package to examine the tattoo-style design that painted itself across her skin.

Just in time, the attending sister passed off a bundle of clothes, not the least of which came from a friend whose magical aptitude came in the form of enchanted clothing: Orange and Purple came together to make a line of undergarments capable of hiding and supporting the heavy frontal weight, letting everything slip into a pocket which only existed on the inside. Aesthetically, she was smooth and flat, able to slip on any short skirt or tight pair of pants without some Blind questioning her orientation. In Culla, and among the faithful abroad, it wasn't something necessary... Though, she wore them anyway, as they were comfortable and prevented the otherwise uncomfortable sensation of being crushed by equally massive and muscular thighs.

And they brought her joy... Nothing could deny that. A pair of black slacks, tight at the waist, were tugged over her lower body and followed by some socks well suited to the included boots. Lifting her arms to allow access, the attending Dame began to bind Moriah's chest as she would to herself once it was her chance to serve in the Commendatoriate. Though unnecessary, it always felt more comfortable to Moriah to have firm support for her chest, the flesh trained to tense up and hold itself in place once applied. Over the wrapping, which extended just below her diaphragm, a plain black tank-top was followed by a soft and slightly oversized sweater, most of which Moriah then tucked into her waist. A little tug brought a comfortable amount of fabric out to break up the two-piece silhouette without restricting her movement.

On her feet, dark and laceless leather boots crept up over the tapered ankles of her pants. The heel and toe were a single part, solid and heavy; something she'd be able to run in if necessary, and wouldn't break as easily as a stiletto heel. The girl was already standing to the side with a small velvet pillow, and atop that pillow was a karambit-style blade still in its sheath. It was the kind of sheath meant to be subtly hidden on a person, and Moriah affixed it underneath the fold of cloth made by her sweater. As a test, she flashed her hand forward, snagging the handle to let the blade sing into the air with a satisfactory clicking noise. Nodding, the blade was again sheathed before she readjusted herself again.

A deep breath, then a nod.
"What is your Oath, Little Sister?"
"My Oath is my life in service to my Progenitor, Clan Motta, and the Mother Deer."
"And why do you live?"
"To improve upon that which I have inherited, and ultimately to flourish in divine Joy."

Moriah turned herself, boots thumping off the hardwood floor of her room as she made for a wardrobe, opening it and retrieving a deep red single-breasted peacoat. Its collar was exaggerated, covered in fur with a notable right-hand bias. Similarly, she took a thin-clothed scarf and closed the door as she wrapped it around her neck, tugging it out and over her mouth like a makeshift bandit's mask. She let it then settle as she slipped the coat on, leaving it unbuttoned.
"I want you to take some time to study. Let your eyes see light. I don't know when I'll be home, so Luciana will be around to administer your daily treatment and test you on what you've gone over."
"Yes Ma'am... M-may I-"
"Free yourself."

Almost giddy, the girl ripped at her blindfold and opened her eyes to look up at her teacher. She could only smile as Momo smiled back in a soft and matronly way.
"A contact has warned me of troubles that I don't know the nature of... So be safe. Remember the emergency plan if anything happens."
The girl nodded in return, and Momo planted a second kiss on the top of her head before heading for the stairs.
"Be good. And no television."
The door opened and closed without ceremony, Momo's hand only lingering to snatch the bag hanging by the door. A half-dazed young woman was left standing at the top of the stairs with a dreamy smile...

---

---

The facility was dark, quiet besides the gentle electric hum of the medical grade freezers keeping this particular safehouse's stash of materials fresh as possible. There was a dull shaking that rumbled through the concrete as the nearby tram system operated in its daily run from the surrounding suburb into the city's financial district. Properly packed with business people, Momo imagined their dissatisfied aches and pains. Her mind passed over the ingrateful nature of Blind Humanity, most unable to recognize just how beautiful the ignorance of their situation really was. It was like raising children, or stewarding long-lived animal companions. Another joy of being among the Mother Deer's most astute guardians...

There could be no negativity here. Not in the presence of her Unborn. The forming pool here, given the proximity to the nearby tracks, was suspended and cradled by a series of pads and springs that held it up and away from the regular vibrations while converting any stray energy into a gentle rocking motion. Around it, Momo had lit a number of candles whose places were kept by the wax melting down and pooling around their bases.
"Latenna? It's Mummy...-" she spoke gently, looming over the open mouth of the thing with wide and excited eyes.

It wasn't standard to name the Unborn- Those sorts of things were usually left to one's Sisters in the Commendatoriate, or on your first visit to Culla for a proper grading. But as far as she was aware, her own Mother had already named her before she was born, so to Moriah, it was a tradition all its own for Newbreeds. She had a particular confidence in this one, having a fellow Matriarch from another clan as a main contributor and partial sponsor of the secret project.
Of course, the body within didn't respond. It wasn't alive. Not in the same way a gestating Baby was alive, at least. Connection to a parent meant a Naturalborn had its life constantly breathed into it. But here, there were things to do before the energy could be expelled to jumpstart the consciousness locked away in the developing mind. However, she knew they had thoughts. They imagined, and dreamed, living out moments of their donors lives carefully selected by the Progenitor in control of their growth.

Personally, Moriah vividly remembered dozens of memories from Dames who had contributed their Matriarchal essences into her as a project of holistic unity. Within her, there was an entire council of intelligently gathered constituents- Not so active, but their memories were just a breath away from her mind's eye no matter the time spent without recollection. And, if she tried terribly hard, she could remember Cadenza... Whispering sweet nothings, powerful impressions, battle cadences and songs; things that had probably brought her great joy. For Momo, just seeing the face of the small child developing and aging week by week in the deep emerald pool brought that joy to her mind.

After all, she looked like Fiora... Loretta being from the same clan as Elizia, and the unmistakable red hair of the Guerra was already growing in long locks around the little girl's head and face. It made her giddy just to watch the unmoving body take slow breaths within the amniotic pool. However, today was strictly for feeding... Several vials of fully-deconstructed material were pulled from the freezer and slid into a curious machine. Similar to a centrifuge, each vial was heated to liquify its contents into a central vessel before being thoroughly incorporated into one another. The central container was then pulled from its slot and placed into a secondary contraption. Two handles on either side allowed Momo to grip it tightly, and the copper fixture began to oxidize rapidly.

She was thinking of Elizia... Of the only other person she wished could be here. But it wasn't mourning... She couldn't do that here. Not while she was preparing the sample. Instead, it was a moment that all three people involved shared:
Loretta and Elizia playfully bantering about philosophy upon a green-filled terrace in Culla. They were both in their uniforms, red hair tied tight and slipped under their caps. Their smiles were obviously the same, and it was almost hard for Moriah to remember which was which... But Loretta had a scar she wore proudly on her left cheek, and in that moment Moriah could feel herself reaching out to Elizia through that memory. The woman's face turned to hers, and she really smiled. Like the sun breaking through the clouds on a rainy day.

Then she broke from it, feeling a tear running down her cheeks as she grinned like an idiot. Like she was smitten.
Oh... The Joy...
Her aura was pulling air through the filtration system of the little bunker, and as she stood, she felt the immediate fatigue. The lack of sustenance wasn't usually too much of a concern, save for the fact that she'd gotten rather used to a sense of security. Like things weren't going to pop off at any moment. She spent the first year after the Cataclysm on high alert, intaking so much quality material that she'd managed to make a dent in the Coven's coffers... Conscious of it, she'd since cut back. Her body was leaner, not so full, only taking in after moments of strain like this.

Still, Latenna had to eat first. At least the preparation was done. She brought the container of glowing green biological material steeped in joyous Lux to the pool. Circling it, she dumped the container out slowly and gently, a low mantra leaving her throat.
"Blessed is the child without weakness. Blessed is the child without fear. Blessed is the child without weakness-"
This continued until the container was empty, and Moriah dipped it into the pool to shake off any bit still clinging to the sides. Her stomach growled as she did so, and she took a deep breath before letting the vessel empty out again. Then it was back in its original space, and Moriah was browsing the shelves for something to eat herself. A few more vials than before were stuffed into the machine, everything emptying into the center as a pale liquid mostly uncharged by magic.

It was a full month's worth of food for the girl being grown, but Loretta's next contribution was due soon anyway. Their agreement was once every three months, so once December rolled around there'd be more. Plenty more, as Moriah was confident in Loretta's personal level of output and the party in question was happy to take her money in turn. As the machine incorporated everything together into a frothy slurry, Moriah took her tumbler from her bag along with the small container of protein powder. A thick and frothy slurry formed as the two substances mixed further together in the plastic container, then Moriah gave it a minute in the blast freezer before pulling it out again. It wasn't frozen, but it was cold; pleasing to the mouth as it went down like melted ice cream.

"Augh! Delicious, isn't it? My sweet girl?" she asked to the quiet nothing. She'd taken her coat off, but upon finishing her beverage she began to pack back up.
"I know you want Mummy to stay and read to you, but those crazy cave ladies are going to interrupt my day sooner or later, so I can't really focus on it right now. I promise I'll make it up to you later. Now, you be good."

Candles were blown out. The integrity of the pool was double-checked. The coat was back on, and the bag was under her arm.
"Mummy loves you, Latenna. I'll be back again in a few weeks."
Momo checked the monitor by the door for any passing subway workers or random underground vagrants who may be loitering in this part of the subway... Seeing nobody, she turned her body and pulled the door open, stepping out and tugging it shut with a satisfying hiss as the locks engaged. She was underneath one of the stations in a maintenance tunnel that lead back to the main platform now. It was dark, save for the few runner lights that lined the ceiling at vaguely regular intervals. The sound of her heels thumped against the stone floor, leaving behind the door covered in signs warning against attempted openings.

It was a short walk at least, only a few minutes around a winding bend before the gate to the stairs which lead up to the platform itself. Even when she wasn't going to check on Latenna, she usually parked here and took the tram across the North to the NLB and Sin Sisters'... It was a simple convenience. So, as she crested the top of the stairs, she found herself on a mostly empty platform. Nobody really lived in this part of town, and all the businesses were already full of their employees; it left Moriah in a fairly peaceful space as she waited for the line she knew would take her to her destination.

“It’s always so nice when the station is empty, isn’t it,” a voice broke the silence behind Moriah.

“Oh yes, yes, I think I like the silence before the train,” a second joined in.

“But safety would be a concern. I don’t think I could be all by myself waiting like that. Not with everything going on,” a third voice added.

Moriah would see three well dressed men had suddenly appeared behind her. They were dressed in suits, carried briefcases, and each was well dressed and looked professional. The only thing amiss was a fist sized hole on the right side of the chest on one of the men. Each looked at Moriah with a wicked smile.

At first, she didn’t turn. It wasn’t nice to stare, after all; but they seemed to be insistent. Everything going on was a statement that just begged for an interaction.
"Oh yeah? What’s been go-”
As she turned her head casually, she was immediately caught by the fist-sized hole. Struck by the state of it, her matronly instincts still echoing from the moments spent with her Unborn, she was compelled to turn.
"-Holy shit, sir!? You need medi-”

Again, she cut herself off. The three of them… Tight formation, somewhat circled around her, everyone smiling. The hole… It gaped, oozed, and practically screamed at her. Her trained perception was to check them with Green Lux, finding vague Apparitional Emotional Fields. But the green still crowded around them… They were alive?
It wasn’t worth thinking too much about.

"Ahhh… alright… I guess you freaks have to do with what my little Cave Bat mentioned?”
Moriah’s shoulder drooped slightly, letting her back slide off her shoulder and hit the ground. She thought about the jacket too, cracking her neck and raising her arms to loosen it from her shoulders before letting an arm slip through the hole.

“Oh we don’t have to do anything,” the tall one joked.

“Anything at all,” the short one continued.

“But that wouldn’t be any fun,” the one on the middle added.

“Do you come here often,” the tall one asked as he began to circle Moriah.

“This station in particular,” the small one continued.

“Are you protecting something,” the one in the middle finished. As it did the ambient temperature in the station dropped quickly until it was freezing. The normally drab and bring beige walls seemingly began to lose what little color they had. Moriah would feel a relentless push against her emotional field begin.

It was a very uncomfortable moment. She didn’t need anyone or anything knowing about any of the quiet places… So whatever the thing prodding against her was trying to pick out, she only had one choice.
Kill it.
But she couldn’t let the Emotional Field waver. It was the first technique they were told to utilize in the Commendatoriate: Absolute Impression. Reading and identifying a threat, and setting a standard in one’s mind that hung the opponent on a lower rung than the Matriarch in question. Most things had to be treated like they weren’t “serious”, because if they were, you had something on the line.

Something made you scared. Shook you. Left a crack that other Adepts could get in through… Or worse.
This situation in particular, however, was getting to the point where violence was starting to look necessary. The coat dropped to the ground at the edge of the platform, the loose sweater covering her upper body leaving her with plenty of movement… The point was usually to avoid giving your opponent the chance to do something dirty like pulling your shirt over your head, so Momo’s first option was almost always the legs.

Hence the sturdy boots with thick weighted heels.
"You can avoid the worst of this if you disappear like a bad dream.” she offered calmly, feeling her Lux beginning to bolster her. The air was cold, but it always tasted fresher in these moments.

The tall one suddenly twitched. Something moved under his skin and the air was filled with the sound of bones snapping and muscles twisting. Yet after a few moments the noise stopped as did the twitching. “You are strong, Moriah,” the tall one grinned. The sound of a train entering the station filled the air.

“There are ways to break that strength,” the short one added.

“Shall we,” the one in the middle asked Moriah, “I think you have a train to catch.” It lunged forward with inhuman speed, reaching out to push Moriah into the path of the oncoming train.


With cat-like speed and reflexes, Moriah’s body tucked slightly and drove her shoulder into the lunging thing’s abdomen. One hand grabbed the collar, the other the crotch, and all the weight immediately drove the first assailant into the crack between the platform and the coming train. At first, she didn’t feel resistance, but as the train twisted it into a pretzel stick, she realized it simply wasn’t giving up its form. However, it was stuck, so she released the thing and let her back leg spring off the floor.

Her heel drove itself into the next one’s chest, sending it soaring across the platform and into a steel support beam which rang out like a bell and shook the entire pylon. The third was too much, however; its smiling mouth opened wider than was possible as it’s arms and legs began to stretch across her, constricting her.
She took a step, then immediately went for the train again. This time, still rolling into the station, she tried to scrape the thing off of her as its teeth sunk into her shoulder. She could only imagine that it didn’t think before its actions, as the initial clamping was only enough to break the skin of a normal person. Hers was already thick enough that it needed some extra effort, and in that moment of disconnect it loosened its grip.

Just enough for her to go for the knife. Still knocking itself against the slowing train, the leech peeled off her body as she spun the blade in her hand and ripped it upwards like she was ripping a piece of tape off of a box. As it whipped upward, the tip caught her cheek before being crammed and hooked into the thing’s skull. Disoriented further, she felt it lighten its grip enough that she could toss it without ripping her own flesh apart.
It hit the ground in a heap, but the one that had been kicked was already sprinting back toward her. Winding up to kick the stupid thing again, a set of spindly grey noodle arms absolutely shredded to fuck from being run over by a train several times now, slithered out from under the thousand ton metal behemoth. They grabbed and wrapped wherever they could, throwing her off balance.

The sprinter smashed into her like a ton of bricks, sending her hurtling into and spinning against the ever-slowing train. Thankfully it wasn’t just a passthrough and its solid, wall-like qualities were far more present now than they were while it was moving quickly. A horrific nightmare was crawling its way out from under the train, face and fleshy bits turning to clay-like gray as the wrapped arms tugged her leg toward a waiting mouth.
She’d dropped the blade on impact, hearing it hit the concrete but losing track of it almost immediately.

Oh fuck.

It had to still be somewhat pinned under there… All she could do was tense her leg and let the grabber think she was trying to get away. As the mouth got close enough, she then released every bit of tension on her leg, letting the gripping arms accidentally slip. It was enough to send the weighted boot and the power behind it careen into the grabber’s head.
Using its own strength against it, there was a loud snapping noise as she caved its skull in against the train. It growled and gurgled, but she had no time to focus. The one still in front of her wasn’t fighting quite like the others, resorting to actual strikes which put dents into the metal exterior of the train wall.

She could generate a significant amount of force from this range, but these things weren’t content with getting knocked around. They had to die. And for that, she needed a little more room. Her front foot stomped down, driving into the thing’s shin and buckling it… But she was quickly shown that wasn’t the right move, as the leg took the chance to begin coiling around her foot and ankle.
In the interim, the one she’d bladed was stirring, body slowly reactivating as it started to push against its half-split musculature.

They have to die, they have to die-

Using her free leg, Momo pivoted hard and ripped the thing coiling its way around her off of its remaining support and whipping it against the threshold of the open train door. Like putty, it simply flattened and mushed out in an unreal way, and it seemed like no matter how many bones they broke, they just didn’t care. It was like fighting a thing made of unfired clay.

Unfired…
Across the way was the opposite platform, still devoid of rail cars and totally open. Her hand reached out, wrapping around the thing’s head and squeezing to keep its shifting neck from getting any advantage. Her free hand did the same to the other creature, snatching down and practically crushing it like an orange.
Both struggled, coiling and wrapping around her while hands tried to claw and rip at her. It left her clothes mostly ruined, and while they were hitting surface skin, they simply couldn’t seem to figure out that they needed to go deeper than instinct told them.

So, in relative freedom, she dragged the two moaning and grunting creatures across the platform and into the pit opposite of her train. She knew, having spent enough time talking to engineers rebuilding the city’s destroyed rail network, that city trains always had electricity running through their lines… You just had to connect one side to the other, and boom- Full power electrical current.
Her hand rammed the face and head of one into the hot rail, feeling the electricity surging through her temporarily as she mirrored the other. Then, with tremendous force, she stretched them across the entire rail until the circuit closed. Instantly, they both began to convulse and jitter and scream as they started to cook.

On reaction, they had let her go, leaving her free to stand and gawk. She reached for her cellphone, but found that it had been smashed to bits when she hit the train, meaning she couldn’t document this… But she really needed to talk to Bryn now. With the platform cold and empty, and a small fire burning on the tracks, there was a small gust of air that gave her a reminder that they’d ripped through her sweater.
The shoulder, the belly… There was a chime that warned the train was about to depart, so she pulled herself back up and made way for her coat. The blade she’d dropped was a few feet away, and she managed to gather her possessions before slipping into the train.

Beneath the train, a gray, muck-like hand snagged the undercarriage, and as the iron horse pulled away from the station, it settled in for a long ride…

_{Location: Somewhere near Rook's Rest
Mentions: Ryan Jackson, @NoriWasHere, @FernStone, @Blizz}

"I'm sorry you got stuck with me." Alejandra Escriva was watching Ryan Jackson from her position in the passenger seat of the blacked out SUV they were driving. He had the look of a man white-knuckling his his way through his 3rd hour of gridlocked traffic but there were hardly any cars on the streets.

Jackson pulled the vehicle into an empty industrial lot where shoots of grass and weeds came up from the cracked, uneven concrete. "Where are we?" She asked, the area looked industrial, like some old warehouse or factory district with old red brickwork, boarded up windows and rusted out iron.

Jackson, again, didn't answer, he checked his messages, and texted something instead then finally called someone when he apparently didn't like the answer he'd gotten.

Eventually Alejandra took the hint, he was busy and not interested in her chit-chat. She leaned back in her seat, looking out the window as some old lady wearing 3 parkas pushed a shopping cart down the laneway and questioned her life choices. Jackson was arranging some sort of meeting with someone, it sounded like, through an intermediary and it seemed to involve back and forth that would've annoyed Alejandra as well.

Jackson finally ended his call and shoved the phone back in the pocket of his suit jacket. "It's not you." He offered by way of conciliation while checking his mirrors before setting the vehicle in motion again. "Look, Alejandra, you see nice. But I got things to do, and the only reason you're here is to keep me busy and out of the boss's hair so I can't stop him doing stupid shit that's gonna cause me all manner of trouble." Jackson's tone was that of a man that foresaw many ways things were turning against him and only grudgingly accepted there was nothing he could do about it.

Alejandra nodded along as though she fully understood what Jackson was saying. "Stuff with Gideon?"

Jackson looked at her a moment, snorted then started pulling the car around back out to the road. "You don't know the first thing..." but he stopped himself before saying more. "Do you even know who Gideon is?"

"You're showing me the ropes." Alejandra smiled sweetly. "Why don't you tell me?"

Jackson looked at her a moment as they stopped before he pulled back out into the street. Alejandra had taken courses in reading human behaviour but in that moment she had no idea what Ryan Jackson was thinking. "No offence Ms Escriva, but whatever Mr Foster said: I don't know you. I don't trust you."

That answered a few things though.

"It sounds like you don't trust Mr Foster." She replied, trying to draw him out.

Jackson just laughed at that. The vehicle rocked back and forth down as it accelerated down the poorly maintained south side street. "Let me give you some advice Alejandra. However friendly Mr Foster seems, no matter what he says, or what he's offering: that man is not your fucking friend."

"You work for him."

"I'm serious now. I know what he is. I dealt with his type all my life. You? You are exactly his type."

Alejandra's expression softened a little. She really hadn't been sure what to make of Mr Foster their first meeting but she was already making a mental note not to let herself get caught alone with him again. "I appreciate the warning. I want you to know... I really appreciate your being an ally here..."

"No no. He ain't sizing you up for sex shit. I mean, I bet he's into some freaky-shit, but no. What I mean is you, coming in all new, all looking to change the world. He is gonna blow smoke up your ass and then dump you in shit you got no business being in. Like this. Because he knows someone like me is gonna tell him: no go fuck yourself. In fact, the less I tell you, the safer you actually are."

"It sounds like you're speaking from experience."

Jackson laughed, and it wasn't just the that he laughed, it was that he seemed to find her funny in a way that set her ill at ease. "You think you can interrogate me now? You're an intern, right? What'd you even do in school?"

"Social work?" Alejandra offered, knowing as she said it that this was the wrong answer.

"Are you shitting me? Social work?" Jackson chortled. "How the fuck did you wind up tied in MFF, shouldn't you be in like, interning with troubled youth or something?"

"My parents wanted me to 'try' something a little more business oriented. Plus I wanted to do something south side and there wasn't a lot of funding for positions here."

"Thought you could slide your way into one of the charitable organizations?"

Alejandra nodded.

Jackson snorted. "They're mostly tax write-offs anyway. Let me let you in on another secret. No one gets as rich as Mr. Foster being a good person. Near as I can figure there's only one way to become a rich person."

"What's that?"

"Take more from other people than you give back. That's it. Rich people do it. The rest of us fucking deal with it." Jackson's voice took on a grim tone. "Which is why, if you're smart, you'll keep your mouth shut, don't ask too many questions. And get the fuck back to north side."

"What about this meter thing on the dash?"

"What'd I just say? Don't worry about it..."

"Okay... but... should it be making that sound?" Alejandra asked, pointing at the meter on the dash whose needle was quivering towards the top third of its range and crackling like a geiger counter in Chornobyl. "Is that radiation? Is that bad?"

Franklin Foster looked at the meter briefly, then his head was turning sharply around as though searching for something.

"Should I be..." Alejandra's question was lost as the SUV veered and braked abruptly before pulling a tight u-turn through the next intersection. "What are you..."

"Shut up now." Jackson's voice wasn't upset, but it took on an icy cold that suggested her talking now was suddenly a very bad idea. Holding the hand-hold tightly as the vehicle spun about Alejandra watched his eyes flicking from the meter on the dash towards the nearby streets as though he were looking for something specific - comparing the two.

As they started accelerating back the way they'd come Alejandra noted the meter, which had died off briefly start spiking and crackling again. Jackson's eyes were on the street and store fronts. "I think..."

Then a flash in one of the shop windows and someone exploded out through the glass. Alejandra bit her lip as she was slammed against the side of the vehicle and Jackson pulled the vehicle across the centerline of the street and brought the vehicle to an abrupt halt on the side of the street opposite the exploded shop window.

Alejandra's eyes narrowed at the person lying prone on the pavement. Behind her Jackson was talking to someone on his phone or a radio, reading off their location from the street signs.

"We've got a possible Aural Incident here. I'm monitoring now. Will advise. Over."

Alejandra was wondering if whoever it was on the pavement was still alive, and only realized she'd been holding her breath when she saw them start moving, picking themselves up again. Her attention was jarred away by Jackson's hand on her shoulder. "Hey, listen now." His voice was sharp, but surprisingly calm. Looking at him, Alejandra realized this was normal for him. He didn't even seem concerned: just focussed. "I need you to record this Alejandra. Get your phone. Everything you can get. Faces. Details. All of it. No matter what happens, keep that window up and stay in the vehicle. Okay?"

She nodded, reaching for her phone. Only belatedly did she realize while he'd been telling her all that, Jackson had been busy checking a pistol he'd produced from under his jacket.

"Are we calling the cops?"

"This is south side - cops don't want any part of this. Just record."

Alejandra had her phone out, zooming in as best she could on the person on the ground. The picture was grainy, and hard to see but it was recording.

"Get it all." Jackson encouraged, rummaging through the glove box for something.

"You're like... a cop or something. Shouldn't we do something?" She asked.

"I'm not a cop. You think it's a good idea to jump in on a gangland turf war, not knowing who or what's involved?"

Alejandra said nothing to that, still gripping her phone like her life depended on it as she recorded through the blacked out window. She was still trying to figure out what was wrong with the person who'd been defenestrated when there was another flash inside and her camera caught the outline of something else within.

She felt Jackson peering over her shoulder at the same thing. "What the hell is that?"

"Huh..." Was Jackson's reply. When she turned to ask again what the fuck was going on she heard the driver's side door opening.

"Stay in the fucking car." He told her. "If something happens to me. Don't stick around. Engine's running. You fucking drive and you don't look back."

Alejandra nodded and kept filming.

"Alejandra!" She turned and looked back, expecting something wrong but he was just staring at her through the open door. "Tell me you understand, okay?"

"I understand."

"Good. I'll be right back." He nodded to her and slammed the door closed behind him.

---

_{Location: Showdown at the Bill Smith Corral}

Ryan Jackson stayed behind the black SUV, making his way to the rear of the vehicle. He could smell the acrid scent of the vehicle exchaust still running and through it, from across the street, a smell like burnt ozone. He checked clip in his pistol, to make sure it was loaded with the right mix for weird shit.

Final checks.

He checked his pistol, make sure it was loaded with one of the special clips; a mixed loadout of silver, cold iron and for good measure, they even had some fucking priest bless the things though Jackson was pretty sure that had never done anything. The standard welcome package. He took a breath, preparing himself.

Then he reached for the little device attached to his belt. Flipped it on, waiting for the rising hum to steady out as the Emotional Field device flicked on. The emergency unit he had was good for about five minutes.

Better than nothing

Deep breath. "Hey! What the fuck's going on over there!?"

If this was standard gang stuff, this was the point they'd usually tell someone passing by to fuck-off.

One of the two people in here hurled ash at "Bill." That wouldn't have been Varnan's first choice, but maybe it was magic?

This was not the first time Varnan had fought a shape-changing monster, in fact they weren't that uncommon in the world. Some apparitions were malleable and represented concepts, changing as the sentiments around those concepts did. Others lived through humanity by wearing common Glamour, but this one seemed to just wear Bill's skin and call it a day. When Elara was sent out the window, and it launched a hand at Varnan, he stood his ground. His watch released a wave of pink energy, cascading over the fist right before impact. The imposter was locked in place, separated from time and unable to perceive him sidestepping the arm and touching the creature on the hand as he backed away.

"Get back!"

Varnan flung himself out of the window, rolling over the snow and landing next to Elara. "Are you alright?" He asked, standing up seeing...

Someone else. Someone coming this way. Not good. "Just a fight! Go home!"

He readied his watch to trigger a Transversal, maybe it could get them a chance to hit the thing decisively.

The Cozy Bakery
Downtown North District
Interacts: Freya(@NoriWasHere)

---

"Elijah Tower and no problem," though saying the last part with awkwardness. Though, he would notice that the man who was in front of him was a bit weird, and something about how he walked away seemed off to Elijah. It was so strangely smooth, but he did not think much about it after the man left, but he did keep a note of it.

The place was certainly busy enough that Elijah was glad he got inside in time before the croissants were all gone. He did not want to come home empty-handed even though there are plenty of other food selections available. If there could last, given how busy this place is. This place is busier than the bakery Elijah used to go to, that is for certain.

Still, the place seems like it was doing well for itself, and it made him wonder if the place was hiring. Probably pays better than his current job though he does not really have a resume to work with. But Elijah is not going to ask that right now, given it is his first time here, and he has not even paid for his buttered croissants yet.

Curiously, he asked, "is this place always this busy, or just having a busy day?"

_{Location: Rooks Rest
Mentions: Alejandra Escriva, @NoriWasHere, @FernStone, @Blizz}

Jackson peaked out from behind the SUV again as a second figure, a man he realized, autodefenestrated himself and landed out in the street beside the woman who was slowly stirring. Two outside. One inside.

Jackson reached for his mic. "CENTRAL, this is unit two. I have visual confirmation, aural event is active, currently Code Gray. Be advised two neutral flashers in the area."

The voice over Jackson's comms responded with practiced indifference. "Confirm Code Gray on Aural Event. Maintain contact unit two. Proceed with contact protocols. Priority is live recovery. Over."

Fuck.

"Roger that." There was a hint of hesitation in Jackson's response. "Be advised, I currently have one civilian on board. No PPE. I'm on an emergency pack. ETA, two minutes on mine." He hoped it was still closer to four but you never did get the lab rated duration on this stupid packs.

There was a brief pause. Not that opportunities like this arose that often. "Noted Unit Two. Priority remains live recovery. Proceed as discussed."

Of course.

Varnan flung himself out of the window, rolling over the snow and landing next to Elara. "Are you alright?" He asked, standing up seeing...

Someone else. Someone coming this way. Not good. "Just a fight! Go home!"

"MFF Special Security!" Jackson shouted back, by way of announcing he wasn't simply a street person wandering by.

Slowly Jackson started creeping out from behind the SUV, cutting across the street he made a quick hand gesture to the intern girl to roll down her window. Once she did, Jackson tossed her his long range radio unit from his belt. Hopefully he'd be close enough to the vehicle he wouldn't need it to connect with the base-station in the SUV. "There's a radio. Take the wheel, get around to the back alley. Keep your distance. Don't do anything stupid, just let me know if this thing tries to run and get safe. That's it, go."

The SUV started peeling off as Jackson crossed the street, keeping cover between himself and whatever was inside the shop. He looked over at the other man, still covered in snow and broken glass. "I got backup on the way. Let's play this smart. It's in there. Get your people out, let's stay out here. Does that thing understand English? Can I talk to it?"

---

Around the back alley, Alejandra Escriva pulled the SUV up, facing the back alley behind the tattoo parlor.

Just keep the engine running and radio if that thing comes out She kept telling herself over and over again.

The SUV's dashboard had a radio on it that crackled with Jackson's voice, whispering. "CENTRAL, I'm right outside now. About to initiate contact. Live recording starting... now."

The emotionless response came back. "Proceed unit two."

Alejandra held her breath, the radio she held trembling in her left hand.

---

---

"My mother would’ve smacked you with a rock."

Bryn didn’t expect the ash brick to the head to work, but normally it didn’t do this. She wasn’t squeamish by any means, but this was pretty awful. She’d never seen anything like it. It was only made worse by how it was twisting Bill’s visage, destroying a well loved member of their community… Though Bryn knew it wasn’t him. He was already dead. This thing was just using his body… and his fucking memories. Bryn hadn’t told Bill everything, but it was all too easy to talk to the guy you trusted to ink your skin.

Bastard. What does it even know.

As a fist came for her, Bryn ducked unnecessarily. Its fists were frozen by the outsider just before it would’ve hit her. She grimaced. Get back? Why? Fuck.

It was just her and a presumably temporarily frozen creature inside. In here she was limited. She didn’t want to drag it onto the streets where they could be seen, but if she used her full Abstraction here? She’d burn the place down. And in a town like this, one thing was on fire and the rest followed. Fuck.

Bryn didn’t jump through the window - instead she backed out of the fucking door. The ash brick split, ash zooming out and coating her hands as she got out of the building. She ran over to Elara, crouching down with a wince. "We gotta fight it out here. I can’t use the fuckin’ fire in there."

And she didn’t have a large amount of ashes with her… The ones on her hands floated in front of her, beginning to lightly smoulder in preparation. She looked over at Varnan, about to ask how long he could freeze it- but someone else appeared. Another city person.

"I dunno what the fuck MFF is, but do what he fuckin’ says. Leave. Do not fuckin’ try to talk to it. It ain't friendly." As Bryn spoke, burning ashes split out in front of her. It was a careful controlled heat that she would push to the limit the moment it stepped out - tiny, heated missiles.

"This is our fuckin’ business. Unless you wanna die and leave your bones for me t'work with, fuck off."

---

Quill eyed the woman as she seated herself. Quill let out a breath as she felt some force attempt to enter her space. It appeared that Ms. Adel was like her. Quill used her abilities in moments of need and when faced with someone similar to her it often made things more difficult. Not impossible, but difficult.

Quill listened, taking in mental notes and things to check once this woman left her office.

Quill winced when Lorenza used the word savages. It reminded her of the colorful terms used by those in power to those without. While she didn't believe there was malicious intent it seemed Ms. Adel was quite wealthy and those in wealth tended to not give a damn what their words meant. The people she was referring to could very well be monsters in the most literal of senses. In which case it also made sense to want them out and gone. Quill would have to keep an ear out for rumors about them.

And this lead, Varnan Ingram, was aware of the situation. As Lorenza spoke Quill did a quick search of his name and the first result gave her some simple information. Quill noted the bakery he works at. Even if she did not accept this job it would be worth looking into. Monsters could be very good or very bad for business.

And then the kicker came as Lorenza requested being a part of the investigation. Quill worked alone. Always had. She had resources; people she could talk to for favors or to help her out, but they remained at arm's length. Quill liked to think of herself as that grizzled detective in tv shows, the one who always did it alone because partners slowed them down. But Quill figured Lorenza would not be easily dissuaded from being a part. Clients often preferred updates on what she got done but this was the first time one had wanted in on the action.

$10,000 was $10,000 though....

"All right Ms. Adel. I will accept the case. I'll see about speaking to Mr. Ingram first and report back to you on what I find. Once that is done we can plan next steps together. I will note that this could get...interesting. If things go sideways well...it would be best if you were able to handle yourself. I trust you can, but I need to make the warning regardless. Was there anything else I should note before I get started?"

Quill also made a mental note to check Ms. Adel out. She wouldn't do so with her in the room, but it paid to be careful. Quill had to look out for herself. If she was about to get in bed with someone a Google search and background check was warranted.

_{Location: Rooks Rest
Mentions: Alejandra Escriva, @NoriWasHere, @FernStone, @Blizz}

"I dunno what the fuck MFF is, but do what he fuckin’ says. Leave. Do not fuckin’ try to talk to it. It ain't friendly." As Bryn spoke, burning ashes split out in front of her. It was a careful controlled heat that she would push to the limit the moment it stepped out - tiny, heated missiles.

"This is our fuckin’ business. Unless you wanna die and leave your bones for me t'work with, fuck off."

Jackson glanced over at the new arrival, who was talking a lot more like a Hollow street soldier than the others. Training aside, one adept was better equipped for this thing than he was. If three of them couldn't hold this thing in the street, Jackson definitely didn't want any part of whatever it was.

Adepts or not, he could already tell this wasn't exactly Gideon's best. They were going to kill this thing without bothering to find out what it was or why it was here. He doubted they even had anyone watching the back.

"Well, if it's your fucking business I suggest you wrap it up real quick." Jackson didn't go much into detail about why, he just pulled back from the doorway, slipping down a narrow side alley where he could keep tabs on what was occurring both front and rear - and began relaying updates to Central.

---

EMERGENCY ALERT - Rook's Rest

This is an emergency services notice of a hazardous chemical spill near Rook's Rest. Earlier today an overturned tanker vehicle resulted in a chemical spill. Emergency services are currently establishing a cordon around the area. People are advised to avoid Rook's Rest until the emergency bulletin is lifted. Those inside the cordon are advised to shelter in place and not to venture outside. Those outside should seek shelter immediately. Authorities advise chemical fumes in the area have potential to be Immediately Dangerous to Health or Life. The area will remain closed to the public through the morning, as chemical cleanup operations are expected to be ongoing until roughly 1pm EST.

THIS IS NOT A TEST. This is a notification of an ongoing emergency situation provided by the Cloverfield Emergency Services System, brought to you by MFF Industries: Cloverfield's favourite provider of telecommunications services!

---

---

“Hey, seriously?” said Paloma as Vin blocked her from entering her house. Under her breath she quietly whined, “Sam, please, they’re hurting me.”

The Samaritan called her lie as Vin continued to trap Paloma in place. Unable to sneer at the ghost inside of her, she turned to shoot Vin the nasty look instead and got a faceful of tiger armpit. Paloma made a gagging noise as she squirmed uncomfortably between the threshold of the doorway and the weirdly ripped weretiger, her ineffective wrestling stopping as she heard It roar. Her body stiffened as snow dripped off the roof and snuck down the back of her shoe. She couldn’t see what was going on but the noise painted a visual image almost as bad as the real thing. Paloma’s hand shot out and grabbed hold of Vin’s fur, squeezing tightly as the snapping of bones and the rasp of inhuman laughter echoed from inside the house.

“Ahhhh the sweet naivety of a newborn. Tell me, apparition, have you experienced the death of a host yet?”

“What?” said Paloma, blinking in confusion, her breath fogging as the temperature dropped. She felt something strong seize her around the waist and jerk, lifting her up off her feet with a frightful ease as she started to fall. “What!?”

The anticipated impact wasn’t as painful as she had expected it to be as she was cushioned by the tiger. Paloma let out a tiny, panicked yelp as Vin rolled on top of her and protected her with their body, feeling the cupcake flatten in the box beneath her. She heard something punch loudly through plaster and vinyl, bits of dust and drywall sprinkling on the wooden floor of the entranceway and mixing with flecks of snow that had been tracked in from the outside. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the twisted spear made of bone and muscle retract back through the hole in the wall, drops of blood from where it had cut across the back of the weretiger staining her sweater. Paloma’s breathing halted, the stammering words about how the tiger didn't have to do that dying in her throat as she felt Vin’s own breath hot on her ears, whispering for her to stay down unless there was an opening to get out.

It was a smart idea that she just couldn’t follow. Perhaps if she had seen David Smith get consumed by the doppelganger she would’ve happily hightailed it out of there, but she hadn’t. If he was unconscious maybe the Samaritan’s Messiah Complex wouldn’t have picked him up. He could be bleeding out. She could help him still, lock him away with the Bystander Effect for long enough until paramedics had arrived or she could at the very least get a chance to ask a few questions before he passed. She couldn’t just simply ignore this. She felt a painful heat radiate across her forearms as she shifted up to her hands and knees and, against the wise words of the tiger, crawled into the house instead of away. She peaked her head around the corner of the room that Vin had rushed into, hoping to see David Smith still breathing.

Oh what a fucking horrible idea that turned out to be.

This whole Paranormals being real thing was still relatively new to Paloma. A dragon attack she had barely got to witness. A few conversations with an annoyingly smug mage. Some ghosts lingering around the hospital. A handful of passing encounters with people who shrugged off her aura. A brief and toxic romance with a vampire she had mistaken for a hot goth who called her out for being a bloodtease. That week she was haunted by a killer doll before it gave up. Whatever that mold thing was. Etcetera. Most of the encounters were always strange, sometimes dangerous, and often tiresome. However, none of them had been as viscerally disturbing as whatever was going on with the anatomy of this doppelganger, triggering every animalistic instinct in her body to fuck right off as she jumped to feet before flooding her engines with so much adrenaline that she couldn't move.

An involuntary scream erupted from Paloma’s throat as she witnessed the dangling face flap of a middle aged man being sliced nearly clean off by a swipe of the tiger’s claws, the flesh twisting and spinning as it hung on by a thread of sinew like a babytooth that just refused to fall out, the mouth still smiling in her direction. Paloma had not been bluffing when she had warned Gideon’s men earlier: she was an extremely loud screamer. The banshee-like screech snapped the attention of the doppelganger back to its prey, giving Vin what briefly looked like the upperhand as they swiped its legs out from underneath them. However, a choir of snaps erupted through the house like a beatnik applause as the doppelganger's legs contorted and twisted into arms, its body inverting as it rolled through, snatched Vin by the scruff, and launched them over the chair covered in loose ropes and empty clothing. It turned towards Paloma, its chest cavity snapping open as another roar bellowed out and shook the foundation, its left arm splitting and spiraling to form another lance.

“What the hell are you doing, lady!?”

Paloma felt a hand grab her shoulder and pull her back as Caleb moved in front of her, an ice shield interposed between Paloma and the doppelganger. Her legs buckled as she stumbled and fell back on her rear, looking up in horror as the doppelganger’s spear shattered through the shield and sprayed a streak of hot blood across her face as it pierced through Caleb’s shoulder. Paloma raised a shaking hand, ready to hit Caleb with the Bystander Effect, and froze, arrested by her own desires for self-preservation. The selfishness didn't stop another scream from being ripped from her throat and accompanied by a backtrack of gunfire as Caleb was yanked forward by the spear, the toothy maw of the doppelganger cutting the man’s own howl short as it snapped down on his shoulder and the upper portion of his head, crunching through hard bone before squishing on soft lobe.

Effortlessly, the doppelganger chucked what remained of Caleb’s corpse at Malik and began stalking towards his prey. Paloma began to backpedal on the ground, dragging herself through wet debris, her heart beating in her throat. The twisted spear punched a line in the floor of where she had been as if the doppelganger was playing with its food. She felt her fingers scrape against a wall as she ran out of room. Dead end. Game over. The doppelganger loomed over her, bits of Caleb still hanging from its fangs as it pulled back its spear arm. Paloma instinctively curled up into a ball and threw her hands over her face with a cry, then—



Wham!

The hands dropped from Paloma’s face as she felt the spear breeze past her three times, piercing through the corner behind her. She watched again and again as the arm, directed for her head, twisted and slammed against the wall as it drew near her. The wavering fear in her eyes solidified into hard steel as she wiped her cheek. Hand still trembling, Paloma reached up, grabbed one of the holes, and pulled herself up to her feet. Again and again the doppelganger attacked the wall around Paloma, creating an almost cartoonish outline of her body in the drywall. She gritted her teeth, eyes watering at the stench coming from its maw, and then smiled wickedly, her lips cracking from the cold as the grinned stretched across her face almost ear to ear.

“I think I know what you are,” said Paloma in a soft, almost melodic whisper, scoffing as another attack missed her by a couple of inches. “You inherit their memories, right?” She coughed as a bit of drywall got in her mouth as it hit the wall again. “I'll take that as a yes. I just have a few questions for what remains of Mr. Smith. Then I’ll be gone. Poof!” A larger chunk of plaster fell out of the wall and hit Paloma roughly on the shoulder, almost pulling the inner Southsider out of her as she hissed and grabbed her shoulder, shifting ever so slightly to avoid anything else coming down on her.

“Jesus Christ, are you stupid?" whispered Paloma with a seething growl, turning her head as another stab splintered the wall next to her. "Give up on it already.”