[IC] Nocturnal Memoirs: An Urban-Fantasy Mafia Epic


Vincenzo “Vincent” Accardo Boss of the Thorned Roses White Pine, Laterdale, Unknown W +2(3) P +6(5) Total: W 5 P 11 Status: No war	Antonia Franchesca Police Commissioner Jeweled Bank W +3 P +5 Total: W 3 P 5 Status: No war	Ezra Blackheart Midnight Man Unknown, Unknown W +(6) P +(10) Total: W 6 P 10 Status: No war
Asterion Kairo Jumper Nickel W +3 P +5 Total: W 3 P 5 Status: No war	Matthias FitzClarence Lodestar Waterfront Vale Riverbend W +2 P +6 Total: W 2 P 6 Status: No war	Isabella “Bella” Delacroix The Iron Rose Highfair, Ivory Tower W +2 P +6 Total: W 2 P 6 Status: No war
Adel Dawsom Silver Canary Silverside W +3 P +5 Total: W 3 P 5 Status: No war	Webb Cursed Spider NA W +0 P +0 Total: W 0 P 0 Status: No war	Harriet Talon Winged Blade Hamlet, Bazaar W +1.5 P +5 Total: W 1.5 P 5 Status: No war
Leon “Leo” MacAoidh Captain Burberry W +3 P +5 Total: W 3 P 5 Status: No war	T. Eren Glyde-Savion Sarge 93rd Street, Yellow Brick, Merryland W +1.5 P +6 Total: W 1.5 P 6 Status: No war	Emily Newport Blue Blooded Detective Gold Rim W +3 P +5 Total: W 3 P 5 Status: No war

Once upon a time, there was a Beggar Prince who was scorned by a great and terrible city. Instead of giving him alms, they stole what little he had. Instead of giving him respite and shelter, they chased him out every place he tried to rest in. He cried for relief, but they beat him.

It was too much, and he prayed hard in the downpour of bitter rain, hoping his voice would reach the heavens.

As his tears mixed with the rain, a great illumination took the sky. Light struck the city, creating the first Gyft. The Begger Prince saw this Gyft, partook of it, and found it to be good. Though, he feared what would happen if the Gyft spread.

Alas, the Gyft did spread. The city choked by sin only grew more violent, more selfish, and more dangerous. The Beggar Prince, deeply dismayed by what the people had done with this blessing, turned his attention outward, to the world who now wanted to kill this blight.

He wished not for the destruction of the city. He safeguarded the city from those outside forces who wished to destroy it. The city that cared not for him, he sacrificed his health and power to protect it, hoping to nurture it, to create blooms of goodness from it. To protect the people from themselves.

Alas, the nature of this great city was one of power, of conquest, and subjugation. In light of the powers of the Gyft, new powers grew in the city, safeguarded by the Beggar Prince to grow and, perhaps, bring a semblance of peace to the city.

Once it was entirely conquested. Once they had had their fill of the drink of power, of wealth. Perhaps, if they could have everything in the world, the city would know peace, finally.

The Hundred And First, White Pine

Vincent Accardo stood in front of the wall-to-ceiling glass panes that overlooked the skyline of Nocturnia. In the distance, there was the familiar ribbon of black that marked the quarantine wall. The sky was overcast today, with temperatures dropping to 10 degrees Celsius. Not that the cold affected him in his penthouse.

Not much did.

Vincent swirled the glass of scotch in his hand, staring at the bustle of movement far down below, when his phone buzzed. He smirked at the caller ID, and pressed it to his ear. A loud, biting voice immediately started barking at him, however it was impossible to hear - his ears only.

A smirk as Vincent responded. “Betrayed? What in the heavens are you talking about, crazy man?”

Another pause. Vincent held a faux-innocent tone in his voice.

“What drugs?”

Another loud blare on the phone. Whoever he was speaking was practically yelling at him.

Vincent turned away from the window, chuckling. “Hey, hey, don't get your panties up in a knot. I'm upholding my promises just fine. You wanted a solution, I'm giving you a solution. Better than the alternative, yes?”

A pause, before he shrugged, whiskey gently swishing.

“Listen, I'll send you a sample. Free of cost.”

Another pause.

“Now, now, you know I'm being quite sincere.”

Vincent's smirk widened a little as he listened. He allowed himself a small chuckle.

“Stop? No, this is just the beginning.”

He spun, placing his whiskey on the counter.

“Now, if you have anything else to yell at me, you'll have to take it up with my secretary. Ciao~!”

And he pulled the phone away, ending the call and sliding it back into his pants pocket. A sigh, leaning with his palms against the counter briefly, staring down at the amber liquid in his cup.

It was only a few minutes of reprieve before his phone buzzed again.

“Boss, the package is ready for your inspection.” Said the voice over the speakerphone.

Vincent smirked lightly. This was perfect.

“Oh wonderful. I'll be right over.”

Unknown Location, White Pine

Mentions: Asterion (@The Savant) Interactions: Bella (@Qia)

A single light swayed from side to side, hanging from the ceiling. The edges of the room melted into darkness. The floor was rough concrete. Two shadowed figures stood at the rough outline of a door, staring at the ‘package’.

The door opened, and Vincent entered, pulling leather gloves over his hands.

In front of him, slowly coming to, was none other than Isabella Delacroix. She was strapped into a metal chair with armrests. And, poking out between the arm straps, was a needle and a steel tube. The steel tube connected to a metal container on wheels, quietly whirring. The machine, in effect, was draining Bella’s blood, leaving her with three pints to keep her alive. The tubing and container were all steel, ensuring she would have a more difficult time accessing her blood and using her powers. 

Behind Vincent, more men filed in, taking positions around and behind Bella, leveling their rifles at her.

A gloved hand reached down, lifting Bella's chin, forcing her look at him. Vincent smirked, angling her face this way and that.

”No bruising. I would be bemoaned if something happened to that delicate face of yours.”

He let go of her chin, gesturing to one of the men in the room. A small stool was placed in front of Bella, and Vincent took a seat, adjusting his suit delicately. 

”Now, I hope you're not too uncomfortable. The light-headed-ness is normal given your situation, I assure you.” He said, nodding towards the machine.

”I don't think I have to remind you that if you try anything…” His gaze fell on the guns leveled at her. ”Well, it wouldn't end well, yes?”

He smirked, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. ”There's something I need you to do for me, little mafia boss. There's a… well, should I say, little too successful mafia group, led by Mr. Asterion Kairo.

“Their territory, Nickel, runs alongside your Ivory Tower. I want you to mount an operation, and sabotage their source of income, the Echo Chamber. Burn it to the ground if you have to.”

A pause, before his smirk widened. ”And if you're successful, I'll consider us even. I'll even sweeten the pot and pay you, if you behave.

“Do we have a deal, Bella?”

Vincent: W +5 P +11, Bella: W +2 P +6

Nickel

Mentions: NA Interactions: Asterion's Mafia (@The Savant)

A short woman in a shiny, bright pink coat with the hood up walked through the streets of Nickel. There was a hop in her step, and she clutched something tightly in her jacket pocket. The shape gave her comfort, and her razor-sharp smile widened under the hood.

Despite the cold weather and overcast skies, people were still using the streets. Quite a few, actually. They carried their umbrellas, walked with their sense of purpose, having wholly forgotten they were in a glorified cage.

The short woman skipped a little too enthusiastically, and bumped hard into a gentlemen as they crossed paths at the crosswalk. 

The man turned around, snarling. ”Hey, watch where you're going!”

The woman merely looked back, before she smiled cruelly. She was close enough to the spot. This would work fine.

And, she raised an empty hand in the direction of the man, before a heavy ball manifested into it, twine sparking as it slowly burned towards the top of the ball.

Any bravado in the man's face immediately dropped, and he stared in horror. ”Is that a-”

A woman screamed. ”Bomb!”

Cries of panic erupted as the crowd scattered from the pink-clad woman. Still smiling, she pulled back her hood, revealing two horns and pigtailed hair.

”What's wrong? Scared?” She chuckled at the fleeing crowd, hurling the bomb at the nearest building. The ball detonated, leaving a flaming crater about five or six feet wide in the building.

Another bomb was summoned, flung into the opposite building. By now traffic had stopped and jammed, with people fleeing their cars. With a high-pitched giggle, Hailey began targeting cars, explosions ringing out for blocks.

Asterion: W +3 P +5

The Order of Enlightenment Church, Riverbend

In collaboration with @ERode
Mentions: NA Interactions: Matthias (@ERode)

Church, or whatever the Order of Enlightenment constituted as church, had concluded for the day. Followers began standing from their pews, eager to glean even a word more from their beloved one, Matthias FitzClarence. He had stepped down from the pulpit, the candlelight ringed around causing his hazy head to illuminate. 

It was at this precise moment, in the in-between, at the conclusion of a session that had softened the hearts of its listeners and converted more fence-sitters to devouts, that the outside doors cracked open. Sunlight shone through, catching the wisps of tousled maroon hair as a young man smoking a cigarette entered the building.

The door shut behind him, and he stood there at the precipice for just a moment, gazing at the crowd. His half-lidded eyes zeroed on Matthias, and an easy smirk crossed his face. 

Cyrus Levine had a certain reputation. A reputation that had even reached the enlightened cult. If he was here, unannounced, it meant he had news. News that was worth its weight in gold. 

He stood there, hand raising to his lips to take another suck on his stick, the smoke streaming around him. Patient. Waiting for Matthias to, as he normally would, give him a private audience. 

Honestly, it was kinda crazy that people could believe him so readily. How on earth was it that having a face that couldn’t be read would make him even more trustworthy? As Matthias called up another pastor to deliver the benediction, he stepped off to the side, still garbed in his father’s old ceremonial robes. It was a dark, woolen garment, weighing heavily on his shoulders. Gold ornaments, like the streaks left by falling stars, fell, rose up from the hems of the robes, symbolizing the ascent of mortals to the firmament.

In most believers eyes, it was iconic, a stout-voiced youth with a nebula for a head.

For the one who stood before him, however, it was doubtful that Matthias would be seeing any prostration or begging for the Discipline.

“Welcome to the Sanctuary of Logos, wandering erudite,” Matthias spoke, in the vernacular of the faith-spreading, “Have you come to pay fealty? Or are you here to ask for alms?”

Cyrus chuckled, biting a little on his cigarette. 

”Mr. FitzClarence! You're looking good these days. Though I'd love to talk openly here, I think it would be best if you humored me with a private room. Unless you want my news to scare your people.”

“A confessional then.” The wooden box wasn’t something that saw much use after the Catholic Church was turned over to the Order; the pursuit of knowledge cared little for the acknowledgement of sin, after all. But it was soundproof while still being in a relative public space. “After you, Mr. Levine.”

Cyrus eyed the box lazily, before shrugging and entering the one side. As he shut the door behind him and took a seat, the murmur of the crowd outside faded into silence. Perfect.

He waited for Mattias to enter the other side, light shifting against the fine mesh that separated the two sides. When he was settled, Cyrus spoke.

”They're after you, Mr. FitzClarence. Arresting your men and women, and removing your children from your influence. A complete dismantle of the Order. The Commissioner has finally had enough, and is preparing to ‘clean house’. And just because  your track record is clean, doesn't mean they won't be above planting evidence on you to take you in.”

Cyrus took a moment to suck on his cigarette, languishing in his seat. The end grew cherry-red, burning and suffusing the box with a hint of smoke.

”However, I have a way for you to get into their good books. It'll cost you, though. A favour. In the event I need to call on you for anything.”

There was a grin in the semi-darkness. ”Can you agree to that, Lodestar?”

“The Commissioner’s had enough of kids staying in school and addicts staying in rehab?” If Matthias had a brow to raise, he would have done so. While the Order of Enlightenment couldn’t be considered a completely above-board organization, they weren’t so explosively sinister as the other mafias and cults that populated Nocturnia. After all, he wasn’t out there enslaving and branding people, nor was he blowing up buildings and killing kids. But perhaps that made Nocturnia’s Commissioner think of this as an easy win.

Kinda stupid…but no.

There was the Del Guarde to the west. A plan to connect a ‘bridge’ between the two forces, surrounding White Pine on all three sides to then wrest control from that territory, in order to further solidify control over Heavy Crossguard’s surroundings? Unless she sought to push southwards and claim Waterfront Vale, and thus control Nocturnia’s ‘exit’.

The Lodestar leaned against the wall. He could practically hear the smile on Cyrus’s voice.

“Nothing’s more expensive than a favour, Mr. Levine. I’m sure you of all people would understand that. So be specific. What would you use that favour for?”

Cyrus leaned his head against the back wall, the cherry-end of his cigarette glowing hot. He smirked.

”You always were clever, Mr. FitzClarence.”

A short pause. A huff of smoky air.

”If there was ever a time where one faction in Nocturnia became too big for its britches, I'd expect your help in, shall we say, hitting them where it hurts.”

He shrugged. ”Or you can pay me ten grand and we can call it even. I'm an agreeable man.”

“Faith and money both flow better in times of duress,” Matthias spoke. “Very well then, Mr. Levine. You shall have your favour.”

”Then we're both agreeable men.” Cyrus said with a nod. 

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. ”There's a cache of a new kind of drug hidden in Pauper Town. In the basement of a safehouse on Victoria Street. If you claim that district for your own and dig up that treasure to hand over to the blue men, they'll be singing your praises for weeks.

“Plus, you may be interested in figuring out where they came from. Interesting origins, those…”

Matthias fell silent for a moment, but only to give off the illusion of contemplation. After all, he had intended on claiming Pauper Town already, in order to prevent further expansion of the De Guarde. To think that there was a chemist that fancied themselves an inventor as well…it was interesting, no doubt.

“I’ll keep that in mind then. One would hope that the takeover of that district is a bloodless affair.” He stood up in the booth, an indication for Cyrus to leave as well. “Will you be staying for the after-service luncheon?”

Cyrus bit down on his cigarette, now a husky little stump, grinning a little. He stood as well.

”Though I would love to stay, there's other business I must take care of. You know how it is.”

He had his hand on the door, before pausing. ”For what it's worth, I wish you luck.”

Before he stepped out of the booth, down the aisle, and out of the church.

Matthias: W +2 P +6

The Blue Feather Revererers

Harriet's Orphanage, Hamlet

Mentions: NA Interactions: Harriet (@SporkoBug)

The cooler weather hovering around 10 degrees Celsius forced the children to play indoors that day. Among the finger painting and the building of train tracks, the children frolicked around their ‘Mother’, Harriet Talon.

There was a knock at the door, before a group of five young men, more like lankey teenagers, entered the premises. They had wide eyes, and seemed a bit nervous. The group looked amongst each other before one stepped forward, glancing at the children briefly before locking eyes with Harriet.

”Miss, uh, Talon? You don't know us, but uh, we know you. You're kinda a hero, you know?”

There was a nervous chuckle that rippled through the group, before the teenager spoke again. 

”We've, uh, heard some news. It might not be appropriate to tell it in front of the kids, though. Can we uh, talk to you in private for a moment?”

The teenagers nodded at those words, their anxious eyes hooked on Harriet. Something was eating at them. But whatever it was, they seemed unwilling to spill the beans just yet.

Harriet: W +1.5 P +5

Nocturnia Prison, Jeweled Bank

Mentions:Asterion @The Savant, Matthias (@ERode), Bella (@Qia), Vincent, Ezra (@Estylwen), Harriet (@SporkoBug) Interactions: Leo (@Herald), Emily (@LanaStorm)

”I'll keep this short and simple. You're here because you're the best in the field. I’ve got cold cases that need addressing…”

The overcast skies shone through the wide-pane glass in Commissioner Franchesca's office on the fifth floor of Nocturnia Prison, the most notable skyscraper in downtown Jeweled Bank. 

The commissioner was dressed in a slim-fitting black business suit, shades on her face despite being indoors. She sat behind her desk, looking over at the three detectives sitting across from her. Leo, the lion of the 3rd division. Emily, the noteworthy ‘Clash’ of the 2nd division. Jack, the menace of the 1st Division.

There were case files all laid out in a neat row across Antonia's desk.

“Each of these files contain mafias that have been a thorn in my side - in Nocturnia's side - for several years. I've decided, as part of my initiative as the new Commissioner, I'm going to close these cases for good.”

A nod. “With your help, of course.”

She gestured to the cases, “Choose carefully, and read them in full. If you make an arrest, I'll be giving you your Christmas bonus early, plus a little extra.”

Name: Asterion Kario
Alias: The Jumper
Age: 27

Remarks: Repeated endeavors to investigate Echo Chambers’ business practices and missing persons cases in the Nickel area has been diverted by the local district's police. Something is afoul here, foul play. More evidence is needed to make an arrest.

Name: Matthias FitzClarence 
Alias: The Lodestar
Age: 29

Remarks: The previous leader of this ‘Order of Enlightenment’ mysteriously disappeared. All investigations led into a dead end. Almost overnight, the victim's son, Matthias FitzClarence took control of this cult. Thus making Matthias a prime suspect with motive. Attempts to interrogate him have proved hopeless; evidence is needed to move the case forward.

Name: Isabella Delacroix 
Alias: The Iron Rose
Age: 28

Remarks: Drugs go in and out of Isabella's territory. It is suspected that there is money laundering going on as well. All attempts at getting our moles close enough to lift evidence has proven fruitless. Isabella is a dangerous target who leads a multi-million dollar criminal organization that must be stopped.

Name: Vincenzo Accardo
Alias: The Boss
Age: 31

Remarks: It is recommended to get a mole into the operation behind the Irish Pint front. However, attempts have been unsuccessful. The Latterdale Jazz Bar is also high on the list of priorities for bugging due to the high traffic of known criminal figures. We just need a scrap of evidence, and he'll be in jail for at least 25 years.

Name: Ezra Blackheart 
Alias: The Midnight Man
Age: 35

Remarks: Strange devices have been found popping up all over Nocturnia and in the aide trucks as they leave. There's something fishy going on here, and we are in coordination with counter-terrorism organizations on the outside to ensure the safety of Nocturnia from the likes of Ezra and the Dark Aces. It is not recommended to deal with this case directly.

Name: Harriet Talon
Alias: The Winged Blade
Age: 27

Remarks: This one is known as a child snatcher, and has been linked to a number of missing child cases. We have reason to believe the source of funding for her kidnapping ring is the distribution of illicit substances. However, we lack the hard evidence yet to convict her.

Jack eyed the case files, before glancing at Emily and Leon. ”There's quite a few here. I'll be a good sport here and let you both choose your cases first. Though…”

His cool gaze moved over to the commissioner. ”You're not really expecting us to close all these cases before Christmas, are you?”

Antonia gently shook her head. ”Heavens no. But I am expecting at least three arrests, as I see three competent detectives before me.”

“Plant fake evidence on them if you have to, interrogate them in the ‘warehouse’ if you must. But we will put them in jail, where they belong.”

The ‘warehouse’, of course, was where interogatees were taken and tortured to give up a confession. An unsavory, yet sometimes necessary part of the job.

Leon: W +3 P +5, Emily: W +3 P +5

The Military

In the Skies Over the Nocturnia PD Hub, Yellow Brick

Mention: NA Interactions: Glyde (@Little Bird)

”We're approaching the target. Prepare the package."

The pilot's voice crackled over the cargo plane's speakers. Four military men unstrapped themselves from the seats they'd been sitting in, one of them tapping on the two large crates sitting in the bay. 

”You think they'll like it?” He said to the others.

A stern-looking leading officer made a face at the soldier. ”Who the hell cares if they like it or not? What matters is that these packages reach them, and that they are equipped to complete their objective. Our entire operation hangs on their success.”

The man touching the crate grimaced, nodding somberly. ”Right. Right… Imagine, though. Being stuck behind the walls with the rest of those savages…”

An eye roll. ”Just take your position, soldier.”

A button was pressed, causing the cargo bay door to open at a downward slant. The four military men held onto straps hanging from the ceiling, and each placed a hand on the back of the cargo packages. With a great heave, the packages skidded forward, before sliding out the back of the plane, sailing through the air and disappearing.

On the ground, two care packages sank slowly with their parachutes aimed for Yellow Brick. One landed on the Nocturnia PD building, while the other landed in the back alley. 

If Glyde or his men were to open the crates, one would have a massive M134 GAU-17, while the other would be filled with ammunition. 

Glyde: W +1.5 P +6

Slateside Tower, Penny Stakes

Mentions: Matthias (@ERode) Interactions: Adel (@Yankee)

”Ah, Mr. Dawson. So happy you could join us.”

Ezra sat at the head of a conference table, the overcast skies shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. Adel Dawson stood at the precipice of the conference room, held by the elbow on either side by two mafiosos. 

It had been quite the journey for Adel to make it all the way to this fortuitous meeting. He'd been dragged into an alleyway in Silverside, held at gunpoint, gagged, and thrown into the back of an SUV. Then, dragged blind via bag over his head up fourteen flights of stairs to where he stood now, bag removed. The gag remained yet.

Ezra looked with slight distaste, before he gestured to his men. ”Would you mind removing that barbarous thing from his mouth. We’re all civilized people here.”

One of the men grabbed Adel gruffly, undid the gag, and yanked it out of his mouth. Then, the two mafiosos released Adel, took point at the now closed conference door, and stood at attention, pistols resting in their hands.

Ezra stared, fingers steepled together, before he gestured to the chairs. ”Pleass, have a seat. I know you're no fool to try using that precious Gyft of yours here.”

A chuckle. ”Of course, if you do, you give me all the reason in the world to try out my latest torture devices. So please, be my guest.”

His midnight face rippled, wisping edges curling in anticipation. He meant every word.

Ezra waited for Adel to get settled, before he continued to speak, his voice like silk. ”So I have a proposal for you. You'll be rewarded handsomely, no doubt. But you must realize I wouldn't take no for an answer for a task like this.”

He leaned forward, forearms resting on the table. ”I've been watching a piece on the board, a Matthias FitzClarence of the Order of Enlightenment. I want you to befriend him, and spy on his dealings for me. His movements, his motives, anything you can glean.

“Do this, and you'll be paid handsomely. Refuse? Well, you won't want to refuse…”

Ezra leaned back in his seat, spinning on the swivel slightly. He waited in anticipation for Adel's answer.

Adel: W +3 P +5

The Blue Feather Revererers.

Harriet's Orphanage, Hamlet.

Interactions: @Estylwen

Harriet was dressed slightly heavier than she would normally be, she had to set a good standard for Calem and his friends as she visited one of her Orphanages. The children were all inside the heated buildings, some of them staying around her and playing with her feathers; enjoying their warmth as they did do.

Harriet was accompanied by two tall men, around 6 feet in height, in tailored black suits. Bodyguards, in a way; but never for her. She always brought the bodyguards with her when she was out with Calem, these men were close to her; she trained them in both fighting and how to look after her little boy. She installed the fear of what could happen to them if Calem was harmed in any way under their supervision; and Fossils forgive if Calem was stolen while in their care.

One of them moved to open the door at the knock, before motioning Harriet over. They returned to the kids as Harriet went to the door; offering Calem to the bodyguards as she was holding him. She stopped at the door and looked down to the teenagers with a small tilt of her head. Her feathered ears twitched carefully as she took in their features before one of them started to speak.
They were nervous, good, most people should be nervous when coming to see her.

The teenager called her a hero, she gave a small smile; making sure to hide her sharp teeth as she did so. She gave a small chuckle, "Oh, if only others thought the same." She said smoothly, before she tilted her head as the boys had news.
Harriets' ears flattened slightly before she motioned a hand to the bodyguards, moving to step outside to bring the teenagers out with her. "The kids shan't hear us out here, and if you are too cold; my wings will give warmth." She fanned her wings out and arched them around.
The teen boys would be able to huddle spaciously around Harriets' wings as they told her the news, whatever it would be.

She knew it wouldn't be good news, it never was good news. As was the life of a Mafia boss.

Gold Rim

Roof-tops


It was cold, but it never really bothered Webb.
He had managed to find a safe space on the rooftops, a nice spot to web up himself a little hammock to snooze inside.

But it was morning now, and the sun had made its lazy way into the air and woken the Cursed Spider awake after he tried to wriggle his way back into the darkness.
Sunlight meant he'd need to get up, get moving again. People would be up on the rooftop soon enough as well, either for work, or to find out what hid away on the cameras the night before.

He was admittedly running out of time to get out of there without someone noticing. Webb groggily popped his head from his caccooned hammock as he could feel movement nearby. Bah. He thought to himself, pulling himself out; getting his lower arms stuck for a moment before he moved to faceplant onto the concrete. Ow.
Webb managed to pull himself from his hammock, making a mental note to make the next one a bit bigger so this didn't happen again. But in order to be able to make another hammock he'd need to find some food to eat.

He twitched his abdomen, moving quickly to pull the hammock from where it hung. Luckily he'd be able to bunch it up into a carriable size, so he'd be able to 'recycle' it when he was somewhere... safer.
Webb moved to hold the now-bundled hammock-web in his lower arms before he scanned the area to find a safe place to go. His own ears twitched, he could hear footsteps now, the door to the roof seemed to shift as someone seemed to be unlocking the door.

Jump. He crouched, taking a step forward, tapping his spinnerets against the side of the building before he leapt over towards the nearest roof, creating a lay-line in case he miscalculated the jump and fell, luckily he hardly miscalculated, but it was early in the morning, so he wouldn't be too surprised.

It took a few more leaps until he felt safe enough to settle down, a gorgeous oak tree. He leaned against the trunk high up in the tree and started to chew on his old web. It wasn't going to be enough to keep him going, but it would keep the hunger away until he was able to get something to properly eat.
Possibly the neighborhood butcher was already open and would be happy to give him unsellable scraps. He'd take anything at this point.

[IC] Nocturnal Memoirs: An Urban-Fantasy Mafia Epic

Estylwen The Villainess

SporkoBug The Cosmic Engineer

LanaStorm

Estylwen The Villainess