Estylwen

Nocturnal Memoirs: An Urban-Fantasy Mafia Epic

Thaaaank you, fixed it!

Nocturnal Memoirs: An Urban-Fantasy Mafia Epic

Snow Frostfare

Snow Frostfare

25 | She/her | Specialist Frostfare /Detective

Description: Snow was one of the people who disappeared from Nocturnia when she was young. She remembered being surrounded by many other children. All of them had gyfts. And they fought. They fought, and they fought. Often to the death.

It caused her to be quick and lethal, and she quickly stood out from the rest of the children. When she reached an old enough age, she was trained to be a soldier. Indoctrinated in the knowledge and beliefs of the military that housed and raised her, she became an icon of devotion to leadership, and a killer with a purpose.

That was when she received her first official task in the field: Assist with Staff Sergent Glyde-Savion in his mission within the corrupted city of Nocturnia.

Gyft: Psionics

The ability to use their spiritual energies to depress and overwhelm the mind, causing immense pain, hallucinations, bleeding from the nose and ears, and fatigue. In worse cases, the target(s) immediately pass out.

They must be able to see their target, and have them within their field of 60 feet in order to use their energies on them.

It takes immense concentration, and she isn't able to move while performing her psionic attack.

Mechanics

Both players roll a 1d20. If hers is higher, her attack is successful. If hers is five or more points higher, she causes the target to pass out for three turns. If hers is a 20, she has the option or ability to kill them.

Nocturnal Memoirs: An Urban-Fantasy Mafia Epic

@ERode But I hear voices in my head, ERode. ._____.

Nocturnal Memoirs: An Urban-Fantasy Mafia Epic

If you have inaudible you can convert it into Wealth, but alas, there is no way to turn people into money. You could use Wealth to buy more Personnel, though. 1 W = 3 P.

I added this tidbit to the first OOC post. :>

Nocturnal Memoirs: An Urban-Fantasy Mafia Epic

//impressed

Alright, looking forward to it!

Nocturnal Memoirs: An Urban-Fantasy Mafia Epic

@The Savant Yaaaasssss, im pretty free today so whenever you have some time, we're good to start with your invasion. And if @ERode is sending over people to help, all the better.

Also, I am working on sheets for Soylent Green and the Mayor.

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Exceeeellent, looking forward to it! :>

Nocturnal Memoirs: An Urban-Fantasy Mafia Epic

New round is up! A lot of us made it into the news, congrats!

I forsee collabs with Savant, flux, and Sporko, of course, if anyone has any ideas or collabs they wanted to do with me, please let me know! I think it'll be another collab heavy round, I can't wait to see your collaborations! :>

Nocturnal Memoirs: An Urban-Fantasy Mafia Epic

Beckham’s Pawn Shop, Highpoint

_{Mentions: NA Interactions: NA}

---

Matteo walked casually into the well-kept pawn shop, eyes gracing over the glass shelves filled with all manner of beyond-the-Wall trinkets and baubles. Before his eyes fell on the shop owner, face pressed into the glass counter before him, and two of Matteo's thugs pinning his arms.

Matteo hummed, his loafers clicking against the polished floor as he walked up to the counter and casually leaned against it. He shot the shop owner a side-long glance.

”Been looking for you, old man. Who'da thought the boss of the Withering Stares would be playing as a fence this whole time?”

The shop owner growled from where he was pinned. ”The hell do you want?”

Matteo stared for a moment, before he twisted around and stooped, hovering over the hunched shop owner.

”I'll make it as plain as possible. You take your men and leave, and I won't kill anyone on the way out. Capiche?”

The shop owner thrashed a bit ashe was restrained, causing a chorus of curses from Matteo's men to snarl out, tightening their girl on the shop owner.

”You really think I'm gonna just walk away from everything my family has built? It's taken generations-” The shop owner said, before he was interrupted.

Matteo sighed, raising a hand. ”Yeah, yeah, your family's blood, sweat and tears, blah, blah, blah.”

Wisps formed in the air above Matteo's hand, and a shiny, sharp knife fell into his grip. Matteo twirled the knife a bit, before nodding to his men. To the shop owner's surprise, the men wrestled with him to get a single hand splayed out on the glass counter. He struggled against them, but it was futile.

Matteo grinned, eyeing the ship owner's hand like a piece of meat. ”Let's try this again, hm?”

The shop owner whimpered, trying to pull his hand back in vain as Matteo's knife danced over top his fingers. Matteo soaked in every heightened fear the man was oozing out.

”You're gonna take your men and leave, or…” Matteo rested the blade of the knife on top of the shop owner's pinky, applying the slightest pressure. The shop owner stopped breathing, sweating.

Matteo continued. ”...Or, I'm gonna take your digits as presents for my pets, starting with your pinky.”

Matteo applied a little pressure. ”...So?”

The shop owner was a sweaty mess, ”I-I… I can't j-just w-walk awa-”

Matteo didn't say a word. He only moved his blade in a horizontal manner, cutting down to the bone. The shop owner shrieked.

”Okay! Okay, please! Don't hurt me, we'll leave. I swear, we'll leave!” The shop owner said, broken.

Matteo smirked, pulling his blade up. He jerked his chin at his men, and they threw the man, clutching his bleeding pinky, into the wall. After smashing the glass shelves and shoving priceless trinkets to shatter to the ground, Matteo and his men hovered at the door.

”You got an hour, Withering Stares man.”

And they left, onward to move their men into the district proper. Highpoint was now theirs.

---

Vincent: W +6 P +16

---

The Thorned Roses Informant and the Red Rose Syndicate Spy

The Cathedral, White Pine

_{Mentions: NA Interactions: RRS Spy (@Qia)}

---

It was a short meeting. These kinds of Interactions usually were.

They sat at the back of an evening gathering, pretending to listen to the sermon while speaking in hushed tones to one another. The informant was sweating bullets, looking over his shoulder almost every thirty seconds. Not even the calm of the cathedral could soothe him.

The informant's gaze glanced at the RRS spy before looking forward at the priest again.

”I'm really busting my balls for ya, ya know? I'm not going any lower. $200,000 (20 Wealth) and you'll get the address where they're keeping Mathieu Delacroix.”

He slipped a hand in his jacket pocket, before pressing a card in the spy's hand.

”Listen, you get the funds, you call that number. Then we'll talk.”

And, with one last glance around, the informant hastily stood, and excused himself from the remainder of the sermon, disappearing down Nocturnia's streets.

---

Bella: W +2 P +6

---

Gold Rim, Then A Warehouse in North Battleford

_{In collaboration with @LanaStorm
Mentions: NA Interactions: Emily (@LanaStorm)}

---

The Battleford 20 were crippled and weak from the sweep the Blue Bloods had done on them. But they wouldn't be silenced. No, not yet. And not like this.

The boss had a plan, after all.

In the evening, a courier would arrive at the PD station in Gold Rim. ”Letter for the detective. Her eyes only.”

It was the contents of the letter that were the interesting part.

It was white paper littered in rows of cut out magazine and newspaper letters, like a classic random note. It read as follows:

We have one of your boys.

Come to the Stillwater Warehouse in North Battleford, alone. Tonight, 11:45 PM. Let's talk.

And indeed, Emily would notice that one of her boys was missing. It seemed the boss and what remained of the Battleford 20 wanted to negotiate for their freedom.

Or, perhaps it was a trap.

Regardless, Emily had the option to go, or ignore and risk one of her boys dying on her.

Who was nabbing up blue bloods!? While your average detractor might think Emily was a cold hearted bitch she had the biggest heart for her own guys, maybe too much so. It didn’t take her long to make it to the warehouse in question, she was still wearing her dark blue uniform that pistol of hers? Sat perfectly on her hip, so she made entry to find the bastard that took her man.

The guard at the warehouse door held a hand up, hand on his slung rifle. He eyed the pistol at her hip, ”Come on, lady. No guns. No radio. Hand those over and I'll let you through.”

“Mmm.. You’re lucky I don’t have to use it. Here big boy.” She slides her equipment over with a wink before entering the Lion’s Den.

A lion's den it was. The boss of the Battleford 20 stood with a cigar in his mouth, other hand on his slung Tommy gun. He was ringed by five men, who stepped back, carefully eyeing Emily as she approached. And as Emily entered the dusty, semi-lit warehouse, the door was closed behind her and two guards stood in front of it, effectively blocking her exit.

The boss sneered delightfully at her, puffing on his cigar. His voice was raspy, like he'd had one to many of those smokes. ”Clash of the 2nd Division. You've caused me a lot of trouble, you know?”

He shrugged, hefting his gun slightly. ”Here's the deal. You leave my district alone, I don't give your boy a tortured death. And we'll be keeping him company for a while to ensure you stay off our turf.

“How's that?”

She was expecting someone handsome, Sauve, a Vincent or Asterion to sweep her off her feet and tell her it would be okay before sweeping her off her feet and taking her back to that Ivory Tower of theres.

“Your gang is dead in the water, you guys could let my little boy go free and work from me earn some real coin. If you were good at being criminals you would of held on, that’s the counter.”

Twas a good counter offer at that!

The man sneered at her counter offer. ”Not a chance. You're not in a position to demand anything, actually, your boy is in our hands, remember. How about this. We will cut you in on our drug operations. $5,000 (0.5 Wealth) every pay day. But we keep your boy and you stay outta our hair.”

“How about you give yourselves up and we call it a night~?”

( roleplayerguild.com/rolls/28107 )
( roleplayerguild.com/rolls/28108 )
(Emily: 7, Battleford 20 Boss: 10)

The boss gave Emily a real funny look. ”Girl, have you ever negotiated before? Clearly you're not taking this seriously…”

He gestured with his hand, and out of a back office in the warehouse, one of the goons rolled out a dolly hand truck with a figured strapped down to it. In the light, Emily would recognize him as one of her boys, with a swollen, beaten face, desperately trying to look brave. The boss pulled out a taser from his pocket, causing it to crackle with electricity for a second before looking at Emily menacingly.

”Let's try this again. Get your men off our turf. And we promise we won't kill your boy. Or I'm going to have some fun with your boy, and you'll be forced to watch.”

(rolled a 1 lol roleplayerguild.com/rolls/28109)

“Pretty please?” She smiled, tilting her head a little. Negotiating sucked, especially when it was with some slob. She wanted to talk to some real men, or women. Emily didn’t discriminate, but she was prejudicial when things didn’t go her way. The low hum of a helicopter was heard outside the warehouse as flood lights from nearby and the chopper’s very own shined in, it was the NPD!

---

Emily -1 P

---

Before anything could be said or done the warehouse was sprayed with 5mm from a minigun, Emily roughly dived as smoke grenades busted through, painting the room with white over the visceral carnage that ensued.

”WHAT THE HE-”

The bullets fired true. In a matter of seconds, all of the Battleford 20 were shot, lying in their own blood on the warehouse floor without as much as a peep. Only one remained - the boss, huddled behind the dolly and body of the captured Blue Blood. His gun was pressed against the Blue Blood's head, squinting through the smoke.

Shame it was impossible to see…

The smoke cleared, steel and chrome stuck out from the emerging clouds. Emily stood still aiming in between the eyes of the boss, a swift trigger pull sent lead out flying at breakneck speeds to his cranium

Negotiations were over.

And, as the scene was cleaned up, Emily and her Blue Bloods found a backroom in the warehouse, filled with crates. Popping open one of the crates revealed intriguing devices. One crate held Gyft EMPs. The other held Gyft Enhancer devices, while another held Gyft Negator devices. And, a neatly typed shipping address, where apparently the Battleford 20 were paid to keep ahold of these strange devices for an ‘Ig Notus’. And, curiously, the devices were not powered by electricity. Their power source was… Unknown. A simple, pink gem…

---

Emily: W -7 P -14, W +7.5 P +14 | Bonus: 10 Gyft EMPs, 10 Gyft Enhancers, 10 Gyft Negators

---

The Blue Feather Reverers

Jeweled Bank, and Then Harriet's Orphanage in Hamlet

_{Mentions: NA Interactions: Harriet (@SporkoBug)}

---

There was only silence as the line disconnected, before Detective Kingsley put down his phone. His narrowed eyes and stern face did little to shed light on how he actually felt - save for the quirk at his lips.

This would be fun. He did always enjoy prey that ran, or fought with their little claws. Miss Talon may have felt secure all the over at the edge of Nocturnia, but she would soon realize none were beyond his grasp. And he would have justice.

The detective stared once more at the Winged Blade's case file, before he picked it up and stepped out of his office. He raised the file up so the officers at their desks in the open-concept floor could see.

”Boys, I need a couple volunteers to help me with a case from the Commissioner. Anyone feeling antsy to go undercover in Hamlet and shake a few trees, step in my office.”

Of course, more than one officer stood up. If there was one thing Kingsley was proud of, it was that his men were dedicated and willing to put in the time to get the job done, especially if this was from higher up.

Your days roaming free are numbered, Miss Talon.

Jeweled Bank sends spies into Hamlet

***

The boys sipping their drinks gratefully couldn't help the fear that passed over their eyes as Harriet grew more angry over the phone.

There was a long silence in the room before one boy spoke up. ”This is what we were afraid off… Wll, if you'll pay us, then we can put even more time into this for you.”

He smiled at the teenagers around him, before giving Harriet a nod. ”Thank you, we will work very hard for you, Miss Talon.”

---

Harriet: W +1.5 P +5 | Bonus: P +5

---

Webb: W +0.5

---

Glade's Apartment, White Pines

Perhaps he had just arrived. Or perhaps he had been there all along. Regardless, when Glade turned around with his bread, he saw a well-dressed man with a midnight black face, sitting at his kitchen table.

He seemed to be smiling, but it was impossible to tell. ”Don't be alarmed, you left the door unlocked.”

He gestured a gloved hand to the table, where two cups of black coffee and a box of muffins were laid out. Glade would notice the cups were his.

”I took the liberty of using your instant coffee. And-” He lifted up a bottle of Glade's pink pills. ”Risperidone? You don't strike me as a psychotic, though. At least, not at the moment.”

He shrugged, before gesturing to the seat across from him. ”I have a job for you. Why don't you join me for breakfast…?”

---

Ezra: W +6 P +10

---

Burberry, then Oliver Fields

_{In collaboration with @Herald
Mentions: NA Interactions: Leon (@Herald), Vincent (@Estylwen)}

---

True to his word, Leon had done everything possible to keep Vincenzo at the station. His cruisers had taken city streets only, stopping for every red light and never once activating their lights and sirens. Once at the station he put Vincenzo in one of the nicer ‘briefing’ rooms, saving him from the confusion of being placed in their interrogation cells in the back. When the inevitable call for a lawyer came, Leon just smiled and then insisted on personally finding him a phone to make the call, which of course were under maintenance by the armory officers and took him a long amount of time to retrieve. He asked Vincenzo only the most mundane of questions, offering him coffee, bagels, water and changing the subject any time it drifted to why he was there.

Unfortunately, it turned out Leon didn’t need to hold him for long. The call came from the commissioner, reporting the empty basement that had been cleared out hours before the raid. He nearly broke the phone in anger, and had to take several deep breaths to stop himself from just walking into the room and slamming Vincenzo into the table. How had they known? The commissioner and Leon didn’t even know that soon.

Leon considered the mess his fault, despite his part of the op going nearly flawlessly. He had picked the target and suggested the operation. Now he had no choice but to let Vincenzo walk out of here with the apologies of Nocturnia PD for the inconvenience.

This wasn’t over. Leon may have missed the first shot, but he would see to it that the next one struck true. Even if he had to handle the matter personally this time.

He walked back into the room where Vincenzo was sitting, the fake smile back on his face, “Mr. Accardo! I’m pleased to let you know it seems we won’t need to take up any more of your time after all. Without delving too much into an ongoing investigation, we had received some information that indicated you were some kind of criminal boss with designs on harming the city,” Leon said evenly, “fortunately our investigators have determined that the information was invalid given what we already know of your whereabouts. I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience and would be happy to offer you a ride back if you like? Otherwise, you’re free to go. It would seem I have to go about my hunt in a slightly different method.”

Vincent smirked from his seat, arm draped on the back of the chair. ”Your hunt, mm?”

He adjusted his suit coat, moving to his feet. ”Well, let me know in a hundred years how that goes for you. I'll see myself out.”

---

Watching Vincenzo walk only built Leon’s frustration, and the officers he had taken with him to pick up the Boss knew better than to try and assuage his temper.

“Next time,” he promised himself.

Leon’s radio crackled.

“Officers Herrerra and Isylic, reporting shots fired! Suspects are fleeing into Oliver Fields!”

Indeed, some thugs in cheap suits had fled into Oliver Fields. What the officers didn't know what that they had a safehouse filled with men, drugs, and guns. Lots of guns.

The cops would have been made aware that the cheap suits had kidnapped a random girl off the street. A hostage. Make the cops think twice about simply storming them.

So, with a screech of tires, the cheap suits and their little doll drove into the parkade of a rundown apartment building. They dragged their hostage to the tenth floor, locked the suite door, and lowered the blinds. The two-bedroom suite had at least ten other men, interrupted from counting money and measuring drugs.

”Are you fucking nuts, bringing the cops here?!” one yelled to the other.

The man still holding his hostage simply raised a Tommy gun in his other hand. ”Shut up and get to work - we negotiate free passage! And if they try anything, we kill the girl!”

So the men took positions at the edges of the windows and doors, holding their Tommy guns in wait. The girl was bound and forced to kneel in front of the only window without a blind, and she appeared scared out of her mind.

Surely, the cops would send a negotiator, yes?

Leon stepped out of his cruiser, his eyes already scanning the building that had half a dozen SWAT team members pointing their weapons at the entrances and exits, with another two snipers covering the windows and watching for any signs of activity outside of the obvious hostage.

“Shit,” he muttered, reaching for his radio and switching the channel to a more private one he had set aside, “bring in the Nemean gear.”

Two clicks was the only response he received, but he had the channel set up for a reason. He switched back to the regular frequency.

“Adam 9 10-8,” he called out, advising his team he was on site and taking over the operation, “confirm power control and get me some means of talking to these assholes.”

“Sam 17 at the box, on your go Adam 9,” one of his officers responded, confirming they could turn the power on or off to the entire building at his command.

“Adam 9, Oscar 2, suspects are on the 10th floor, confirmed six targets, unknown total.”

“Adam 9 copies all,” Leon said, cursing loudly once his mic was off. With the idiots on the 10th floor they couldn’t even get them a phone to talk to and calling any local landlines in the building had little chance of answer.

“K-9 units, confirm sweep?,” Leon asked over the radio again, confirming his K-9 teams were ensuring any underground entrances were covered.

“Affirm Adam 9, ready to pop.”

“Hold K-9, hostage on site. Talk first, pop if necessary. All units confirm,” Leon said, and received a chorus of replies indicating everyone understood.

“Adam 9, Lincoln 3, I have a… delivery for you?”

Moments later, Leon was standing at the back of a black delivery style van with Nocturnia City plates and blacked out windows. Inside the van, a young woman turned herself in the driver seat to face the open back doors, kicking a huge black case towards Leon.

“Appreciated, Ms. Smoak,” Leon said, then activated his radio, “someone get a big sign up in the air, let them know I’m sending in a negotiator. They can meet him at the front door in ten minutes.”

The sign was read. ”Damn, a disgrace to all digital construction signs.” One of the suits commented, peeking at the edge of the window before pulling the shade back and backing away.

”Quit your complaining. Remember, we want free passage. Ask for some dough too, so we can drop that later on in the talk.” The other suit said in a clipped tone.

In exactly nine minutes and forty-five seconds, two suits, Tommy guns resting in their hands, appeared at the glass double doors. They shoved a small, heavy nightstand into the inner door, holding it open. And a carton of milk into the outer door, holding that one open too.

One suit called out, ”Shoot us and the hostage dies! Where's that negotiator?”

Leon walked out from the line of police officers, hands held up high and his holsters empty. Over his police uniform he wore what looked like overlapping pieces of kevlar with more straps that hung empty and loose off of the armor which looked like they could have been used to hold additional weapons or pieces of equipment. It was labeled with Nocturnia PD symbols, but looked far bulkier than the rest of the Officer’s armor.

Leon stopped just out of earshot of the door, grabbing his radio slowly and holding it out so it could be seen. “Sam 17, Adam 9, flip the switch in 15. Oscar 2, put four rounds into the window directly below the hostage when the lights are off,” Leon said, then made a show of putting his radio on the ground and approaching the suits with his hands still held out.

“I’m Captain Leon MacAoidh, Nocturnia Police. Let’s see if we can cut a deal, gentlemen,” Leon said, waiting for them to wave him forward. A search of his body would reveal no weapons, just the stuffy looking armor.

They two suits waved him forward, allowing him to enter the front of the building. They gave him a quick pat-down and, once satisfied, one looked at him with a crass look.

”You going to war, captain?” He was a slim fellow, clearly didn't eat enough protein.

The suit beside him, with dark hair and a stern face, shot his companion a look. ”I'll send your ass to war if you don't shut up and focus, Gwent.”

Slim Gwent stiffened a bit, but knew better than to run his mouth. So that left the stern-looking one to adjust his grip on his Tommy gun, ”We don't want no fun and games, Captain. You work with us, the hostage stays safe. But if we e'en get a hint ‘o foul play, the hostage gets a bullet.”

His eyes narrowed. ”We want $50,000 and free passage outta here. We will drop the kidnappee off in a public area when you hold up your end.”

“Not unreasonable, but I’ll have to cut into the Officer’s pension for fifty grand,” Leon said, keeping his voice even, “the public dropoff won’t work though, you want the money and safe passage, we get the girl as soon as you are in the clear. Way I see it, we got two options gentlemen.”

“Option A: You take me to the girl and drop us both off on your way out. You know I’m unarmed and I left my helmet back at the van so I’m sure if I caused any trouble I’d catch one of those .45’s against the dome, right?,” Leon said.

“Option B: You take me to the girl and hand me a phone. Once I have proof of life, I’ll pull my guys back and you can walk right out of here for all I give a shit. Either way, money gets wired into an account of your choosing,” Leon continued.

“So you tell me how this is going to play out,” Leon said, eyeing them both carefully.

Gwent was nodding along, before eying his companion. ”They're good deals, Danny.”

It almost looked as if a vein was gonna burst out of Danny's forehead. ”Gwent, I swear to God, you keep talking and I'll send you back upstairs. Shut. Up.”

Danny then turned his coal eyes on Leon. ”You really think this is my first rodeo show, mm? You aren't getting close to her. The best you're gonna get for your ‘proof of life' is her tear-stained face from the tenth story window.”

He sighed, raising up a finger. ”New deal, no cash. Just the free passage out. You clear your men from the back entrance. When we've all hopped in our vehicle, we'll let her go. And every ten minutes you keep me waiting, we're chopping off one of her fingers.

“Deal?”

Leon considered the options, reading the man’s body language. He could make that work. There would be risk to the hostage, but less so than if he stormed the building or pushed to see the girl.

“Your boss gonna be good with you giving up the money? I mean, you’ve already burned this place as a safe spot for your crew,” Leon said off handedly, prodding Danny in an attempt to get a feel for if he was really the boss of this outfit, “you know what, never mind, sounds like a deal. Leave her alive and whole at the back door, we’ll collect her in… ten minutes enough time for you guys to head out?”

Danny gave a cold, stacattic laugh. ”Fishing for info, I like that.

“Clear the back so we can safely get to our vehicles, we will leave her at the back door before we leave.

“We'll be at the back in five minutes. It'd better be cleared.”

And with that, Danny jerked his chin at Gwent, and they both slowly backed up, still facing Leon cautiously, before they moved to the stairs and up to the tenth floor.

True to Danny's word, money and drugs were hurriedly stuffed in four duffle bags, carried by four men in the center of the group. Danny had an arm around his hostage girl, Tommy gun pointed at her, at the front of the group. He was using her as a shield, eyeing the back parking lot to see if the cops had, indeed, backed off. And, men at the back of the group had their heads on a swivel, eyes over their shoulder, keeping an eye on the hall behind them.

Would the captain keep his word?

Once the two criminals had backed up a reasonable distance, Leon simply turned on his heel and walked back calmly over to his radio. Five minutes wasn’t much time, but he had the advantage of already controlling the outside. He picked up the radio and relayed his orders to the teams, pulling back the more obvious cruisers and SWAT from the rear of the building and moving his snipers into a line of sight on the alley.

“New plan gentlemen. Oscar teams, stay low and get line of sight on the back of the building, all other units pull back, full lights. Get EMS on the way as a precaution. Priority is the hostage. Oscar teams, when you have sight on the hostage, call for Sam 17 to kill the power to the building,” Leon said, waiting for the confirmations to come in.

He rolled his neck around, loosening up his body. This was going to hurt. It always did. He waved over a SWAT team member, reaching over and taking two grenades from his equipment and clipping them to his armor.

As his cruisers pulled back, lights blaring like an early christmas he knew it would draw any spotter’s attention away from the base of the building. He used the cover to slip inside, moving into a side room and closing his eyes, tapping into his gyft.

The pain was significant, but temporary as his body grew in size and musculature. The armor he had been wearing stretched, plates sliding into new places and straps straining to contain his new bulk as the real purpose of the armor was revealed. His limbs elongated, and savage claws broke through the tips of his fingers. His hair grew out rapidly and descended down to surround his neck. Every shadow in the room sharpened, and he could pick up the scents of dozens of people and their activities as they had gone about their daily lives hours ago.

He could hear them moving, boots stomping along the stairs, still two or three floors up from him. He could hear the little girl’s muffled crying, an inward flinch of rage rising and being suppressed. Part of him was going to enjoy hurting these men, a very un-coplike thought. His senses tracked the group as they moved, his feline form moving with supernatural speed and stealth.

They were halfway out of the building when the power shut off, dragging their attention towards the sudden change. Leon moved fast, blurring out of the darkness and using his oversized bulk and musculature to slam through the crew. He lashed out with a massive clawed hand, aiming to sweep the gun away from the hostage and then strike the man in the chest hard enough to crumple him against the nearest hard object. He then threw himself over the hostage, covering her smaller frame with his armor as his snipers opened fire.

Danny cried out hoarsely in the darkness, crumpled against the wall after Leon's savage form had attacked him. Bullets shattered the back entrance way, mowing down Danny's remaining men.

Just like that… It was over.

Danny stared angrily, pushing up off the wall. No. He might have had a smashed ribcage, but he wasn't going out like this.

He slung a duffel bag over his shoulder, grabbed a new gun, and hoisted one of his dead men over his chest, carefully walking backward from Leon, the hostage, and the back entrance. Bullets tore through the dead man's body, but saved Danny, and he was able to retreat to the stairwell. He dropped the body and took the stairs up as quickly as he could, hand pressed against his shattered ribs.

He pulled out a smeared phone from his pocket, pressing it to his ear. ”Plan B, Plan B now!”

And as he reached the roof access, a black helicopter prepared to land on the helipad…

Leon was sure the girl was terrified, but the darkness and his armor blocked her from seeing the worst of the carnage. When the bullets stopped flying, he could hear one man retreating back up the stairs.

“Easy little one,” he rumbled, his voice several degrees lower than his already deep tone, it sounded inhuman but there was little he could do to offer her further comfort, “keep your eyes closed until the police arrive. They’ll be here in a moment and they’ll take you to a doctor, then back home again.”

“Remember, eyes closed, and you tell the officers Captain Leon says you get to raid the soda and candy stashes. Can you do all that for me?,” he said, moving away from her and doing his best to keep his form shrouded in darkness. Even if he told her to keep her eyes closed, children were notorious for disobedience anyways. He just didn’t want her to see the blood.

The small girl nodded furiously, her eyes squeezed shut. She huddled herself on the floor, awaiting rescue. But before Leon got too far, he heard a little whisper, ”Th-thank you…”

Leon nodded, but it was the only response he gave. Already he could hear one of the SWAT teams moving back in to secure the scene. He moved to the nearest fallen bodies, checking to make sure they were incapacitated and posed no threat to the child, then began to dash after the last man. His elongated limbs ate up the distance he had fallen behind, but it would still be closer than he liked if he could beat his target to his destination.

As Leon would approach the roof access, he would see Danny stumbling his way towards the helicopter as it touched down, wind from the blades cutting the air.

Danny spared a glance back, eyes widening, and he tried to shuffle faster, nearly losing his footing.

It would be close.

Danny’s fingers touched the helicopter, starting to curl around the edge of the opening to haul himself to safety. Leon’s claws ripped him away and threw him to the ground. Leon rounded on the helicopter, shouting through the noise. “Nocturnia fucking Police. Get off this rooftop or you’re next.” He had no idea if the pilot understood him or not, but it didn’t matter to Leon.

He walked calmly over to Danny’s prone frame, grabbing the front of the man’s shirt and lifting him into the air, the blades of the helicopter passing inches away.

“You’re under arrest. Comply and you’ll live to confess the crimes and serve your sentence. Harm anyone else and I’ll have to decide whether you look better with a haircut or falling ten stories to the pavement,” he rumbled, twisting his fingers in the man’s garment and continuing to hold him effortlessly off the ground.

Danny struggled weakly in the air, staring down at Leon with fear, panic, and pain. ”I yield, I yield! Take me in, please- D-don't hurt me-”

The Tommy gun and the duffle bag fell from his aching fingers, and he hung there limply. The chopper, without much hesitation, decided the Nocturnia Police certainly could convince them to leave. And, soon enough, the chopper was out of sight.

Leon dragged the man over to the access door, away from the weapon and the duffle bag. He stared at the man for several seconds, but it seemed he was really defeated. He reached up and activated his radio again.

“All teams, Adam 9. Targets secured. One on the roof with trauma to the torso, have EMS escorted up here and get the power back on. Confirm hostage secure?,” he rumbled.

“Victor 21 confirms. She’s with EMS right now. Social worker is en route to get identity information.”

“Adam 9 copies,” Leon replied, then waited patiently for his officers to arrive. Once they did, he would find a quiet place to let his gyft fade once more.

---

Leon: W -5 P -10, W +4.5 P +10

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Thorned Roses Safehouse

Ivory Tower, Thorned Rose safehouse

_{Mentions: Talia (@evierose) Interactions: NA}

---

As the controlled rat entered the premises, the scent of cooking stew on the stove overpowered most of their senses. Entering through the open windows in the kitchen, Talia would notice the bubbling pot on the stove. She could also hear voices from the other room.

As she snuck into the living room, she saw Thorned Roses men all gathered around at the table, relaxing with their drinks and smokes. They were knee-deep in another round of poker, poking fun over who had a terrible bluff.

One got up and stalked right past Talia, not noticing her, before moving to check on the stew.

”Hey, fellas! Stew's ready!”

Cards were slapped on the table as the men joked with one another, slowly making their way to the kitchen. As the last footstep left the living room, Talia would have the opportunity to check the rest of the house. The upstairs rooms were all unlocked and empty. And the basement had a layer of dust.

Noah… Noah wasn’t here.

---

Pops: W +1.5 P +5

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Mafia Headquarters, 93rd Street

_{Mentions: Asterion (@The Savant) Interactions: NA}

---

It was pre-dawn. Fog enclosed the streets, and lamps held a suffused, choked glow. There was a tap-tap of wingtip footsteps down the slicked sidewalk, before a sudden rap-rap at a door.

A thug opened the door, bleary-eyed, expecting it to be the postman.

It wasn't the postman.

The thug's eyes widened, as if he was staring into the face of the devil, and staggered back, leaving the door to creak wide open. The man, maroon hair swept, stirred dark trench coat and a shadow over his face, took a leisurely step inside.

”Wh-who are you? S-stay back!” Said the thug, alerting the other in the foyer. They both, in unison, drew their pistols, pointing them at the man. The man, in response, looked from one, to the other, watching their change in demeanor.

Both thugs seemed gripped in their emotions, pistols lower, hands shaking, eyes dancing behind their eyes. One seemed to have a smile crossing over his lips, but was looking to the maroon-haired man, almost looking for permission.

Flint smirked, almost looking kindly to the thug. ”You don't need to ask for my permission.”

The thug beamed, and spun his pistol on the other thug beside him. The crack of gunfire, and the other thug crumpled to the ground, blood pooling on the floor.

This alerted the rest of the establishment, but it was already far too late for that. Flint walked deeper into the establishment, passing by offices like a shadow of death, his presence marked by pistols firing at other thugs or at themselves. He ascended the steps, followed closing by the thug that had opened the door for him. Flint moved through the hallways, until he moved into a room where two thugs held down the boss. The boss’ eyes were wide, clearly missing the effect all his men were under. And, as he struggled, Flint turned to the thug beside him.

”You don't have to hold back for me.” He said.

And the thug, now empowered, raised his pistol, and shot his boss with little remorse. Flint smiled, before he turned and began to head out from the room. The three thugs behind him turned their pistols on each other, and, in unison, shot each other.

The floors were slicked in blood. The establishment was as silent as the grave. Flint moved through it, casual-like, opening the back door. Cleaners dressed in protective suits entered from the back door, immediately setting about removing guns, bullets, and bodies. Blood stains were scrubbed clean.

By the time Asterion went to claim the headquarters of this place, it would be ready for business.

Satisfied, Flint didn't say another word, simply took a cigarette from its pack and bit down on it, lighting it, and walked down the misty streets, disappearing into the fog.

---

Kairo Skyscraper, Nickel

_{In collaboration with @The Savant
Mentions: NA Interactions: Asterion (@The Savant)}

---

Despite her circumstances, Hailey slept rather peacefully. It helped when the kitty of her prison room enjoyed cuddles as much as she. She woke early, around eight in the morning. She had a quick shower and looked through the closet again. It was as if Asterion had anticipated that she would be speaking to the public: within the closet was a blouse and a pencil skirt. Hailey pulled it out immediately and changed into it, looking at herself in the mirror.

It would do. The pale whites and greys gave a somber tone, which fell in line to what she would be, well, forced to do today.

Her stomach twisting a little, Hailey sat at the edge of her bed, waiting.

The apology was not going to be held until around ten in the morning and Asterion had been awake for hours. Refreshing after his usual routine of the morning and his shifty sleep from the night before. At least nothing too detrimental had happened last night with Flint Weathersteel and his guest, Vale. His mind wandered to the woman and it was because he knew he could never jump inside of her. People like that caused his curiosity to bloom into a slight obsessive thought process.

While going to Hailey’s room, he knocked on the door, and pressed the button, “Are you awake princess? And would you like to join me for breakfast before we get done with the rest of the day?” he asked in a pleasant voice.

Hailey pursed her lips. Asterion was being nice, despite setting her up for public humiliation later. She sighed, standing from her bed and presented herself at the wall-door.

”Yes… That sounds nice, I think. I'm ready.”

Asterion knew that the mood was ruined from everything that happened yesterday — the failed escape, him stabbing Reid, showing her what her actions did to his people, and then the small meeting with her older brother. Everything was tense in a sense to put it nicely. The man pressed the door in and the sound of it decompressing before sliding into the wall and disappearing with a quick action.

“Come with me,” he gestured while waiting until she was at least beside him before he began to walk. “We are eating somewhere else today since the dining room is under construction,” he mentioned while leading her down the hall.

Hailey winced at that. ”Ah, right…”

So she fell in step beside him, smoothing out the fabric of her skirt with only slightly clammy hands. The skyscraper was massive. She was certain he had at least ten, maybe twenty other halls that he used as dining rooms. So, desperately trying to forget that she was, indeed, being escorted, instead of this being an innocent walk, Hailey instead focused on where they were going.

Alas, she didn't have much to say in terms of conversation. Her stomach was in knots for later, after all.

There was something odd about this walk, he was quiet, and he didn’t say much to Hailey. She seemed to have nothing to talk about nor did he. What was there to speak of at this point? The girl might have noticed that they went down a few stairs before going to a hall with no window at the end of it. Turning right and entering an elevator. This brought them up a handful or two of floors before they stepped up. Walked across the hallway and entered another stairwell where they went up two flights before coming to a wall.

Asterion reached out placing his hand on a particular placement on the wall and the lights went out. A feminine voice of artificial intelligence echoed out, Welcome home Asterion, the voice stated before the wall decompressed, air came out, and gentle accent lights came on to expose an elevator.

He brought Hailey into the elevator before pressing a black button on the side. Not one of the white buttons with a number or letter on it. The black button almost looked false in a sense but the doors closed and they went up. The door opened to a mood lit living room or sitting area and he stepped into the area and began to move towards the right of the opening that led into a bigger part of the area. It seemed to be a penthouse on the top of the skyscraper by the way the windows were designed. Asterion lived on the highest floor he could.

Opening two wide doors brought them to another common room and this was when the artificial voice echoed out again. How has your morning been?

“My morning has been fine, Eden,” he spoke back to whatever was talking to him.

Going over the kitchen he gestured for Hailey, “You can take a seat at the table or the counter. Whatever you want,” he didn’t mind but he was just going to cook a simple breakfast for them. He had no one working today because of the plans to take over Yellow Brick.

Hailey blinked. It was beyond luxurious. The pinnacle of decadence.

Why was Asterion bringing his prisoner into his luxurious penthouse home? No matter how Hailey looked at it, she couldn't make sense of it. Honestly, she was expecting to have breakfast out of the mini-fridge and then be hauled in front of a press conference before ten.

As she sat at the counter, she watched Asterion quietly. Before her curiosity begged her to ask. ”You, uhm… This isn't typically how a prisoner is, well, handled. You are the mafia boss, and yet you are making breakfast for someone who did unspeakable things to your district… In your own penthouse, no less. Aren't you like, worried I'll blow something up?” Her tone was incredulous.

A quietness was in the air after Hailey spoke and he shrugged, “Materials can be replaced. People cannot be,” the man seemed indifferent. As if he wasn't worried about her blowing his penthouse up even if her words were a threat to do so.

“Are you going to blow everything up?” he asked curiously while glancing over his shoulder with a slightly pained smile. “The worst it would do is damper my mood and that technically would not change or be too far from the usual,” he confessed.

He put a pan on the stove and put it on medium heat. The man went over to his fridge and began to grab ingredients out of it. “And you are not a prisoner. You are a guest with limitations,” he softly spoke while closing the fridge and going back over to the counter and putting the ingredients down.

Hailey felt an embarrassed heat rise to her cheeks. ”Course I'm not gonna blow it up, I'm not stupid.” She mumbled.

She cleared her throat a bit, watching Asterion prepare breakfast. ”A guest with limitations… I'll be honest, I think you invented this.”

Hands squeezing the fabric of her skirt briefly, before she tried to smile. ”Well, for what's it's worth, I appreciate it. Though, I mean, it's hard for me, I suppose.”

She tapped the horns that curled out of her black hair. ”Big Brother says these are a manifestation of all the trouble I get into. So, I mean, I would deserve being chained down in a basement.”

Her smile was wider now, her forearms leaning on the counter. ”So, thank you, I suppose.”

A glance over his shoulder before continuing to cook them breakfast. “He truly loves you,” the man could see that clearer than day and internally it pained him. He once had siblings, technically still does, but he had to do what was best for them. Separating the family at his younger age, killing their mother to make sure it happens, and everything else. His siblings didn't have memories of him anymore, well, his little sister didn't. There were times when he and his younger brother stayed in touch but that couldn't continue. No matter how much he wanted it to.

“Have you ever read a religious text, princess? I think it is a good lesson even if you do not follow those beliefs because you learn two things,” he put two fingers up to emphasize it.

“You learn that Lucifer was once an angel and that he could be considered the most charismatic and beautiful creature yet he is purely evil. You learn that God supposedly created all and if he created all and tries to forgive the mistakes of others even if he knew. Why can I not try to forgive the actions of others even if it may upset me or put me into a place that I do not care to be in,” he continued to let the omlette cook while he shredded some cheese.

Then he shrugged, “Except I can always forgive but I cannot forget yet I am a man that can only lose material possessions. I have nothing to live for. Nothing deep. Not like you or your brother. You two can lose each other. I do not have that,” he continued to make breakfast.

Hailey listened carefully. She wasn't expecting a talk about God, but she enjoyed it all the while. It was often that Flint, her and Daisy attended the cathedrals in White Pine.

But her gaze drew a bit concerned. ”I… I know it's tough, not having family. I don't have my parents.

“But you have your crew. They treat you like family. That's pretty good, I'd say…”

Asterion nodded at her words, “It is,” he agreed with her as he held his tongue about other things he wanted to say. Reaching into the cupboards, he grabbed two plates, and two forks. Setting them to the side as he took off the cheesy omelette and cut it in half. Giving one half to himself and the other to Hailey. Going into the fridge, he grabbed some homemade salsa and put a serving on each plate before putting it back. Then he grabbed a peach for each of them before washing those off and putting one on each plate.

The man set her plate in front of her and sat his down beside her. Before he sat down, he poured them both orange juice and put those filled glasses in front of the plates. “When I was very young, princess. I destroyed my family. I killed my mother so the only person to blame is myself for not having a family,” he confessed to her while glancing over at her before taking a drink of his orange juice.

“It was for the better. If I did not do that. I would not be here today,” his tone was even as he spoke. Then he smiled a little before he started enjoying his breakfast.

Hailey stared for a moment. The more Asterion spoke, the more it made her realize the man held on to a lot of pain. Of course, it was the exact same with her brother. Great men were made of pain, it seemed.

”...You have a lot in common with Big Brother, you know…” She said softly. ”Nocturnia is a city of pain, though. Different degrees, and that pain breaks us all in different ways.”

She shook her head, pursing her lips. Her own broken-ness caused her to not care when she was using her gyft. But, a little therapy session with Asterion seemed to be clearing that up.

Hailey snorted through her nose, keeping her thoughts to herself as she took a bite of breakfast. Her eyes widened.

”I didn't think you'd be able to cook. This is… Quite delicious. Thank you.”

There was a quick thought about something before he stuffed it down. Maybe in a different life or world, he could have befriended Flint Weathersteel, but he made a deal for the man to end his life when the time was right. He wouldn't share that with Hailey. She didn't deserve to know that knowledge unless her big brother wanted her to know it.

Hearing her snort caused him to raise a brow in curiosity, he was about to ask what was so funny, but she broke her silence after taking a bite. Asterion grinned at her compliment and laughed, “I would be quite pathetic if I did not know how to cook and useless as well. Thank you for the kindness, princess,” cooking was a necessity. Being on his own for the most part since his younger teen years, he would have starved, but he learned how to cook. At least a little bit. He was no star chef but he knew his way around the kitchen. Maybe that's why Krish stayed around — that man could burn anything he touched when it came to cooking.

“Now enjoy your breakfast and relax before the day truly starts,” he encouraged as he started to eat the omelette while dipping it into the salsa.

Haily nodded, feeling her insides beginning to unwind a bit more than what they were before. Yes, today wouldn't be so bad. She'd do what she needed to get done, and wait for her brother. And, maybe, she could ask Big Brother to forge some kind of alliance with Asterion.

Yes, that sounded alright.

She took another bite of her omelette, and then another. Soon, it had disappeared entirely off her plate, and she worked on the peach. It was perfectly ripe, and she delicately placed the pit on her now rather empty plate. The orange juice, the same that she had requested for her first dinner, was also polished off. It was one of her favourite drinks, after all.

In good time, she had finished her food. There was a seriousness in her eyes - she was ready for the day.

Asterion finished his breakfast and when he noticed Hailey was done as well, he grabbed both of their plates, and put the peach pits to the side on the sink before rinsing the plates and forks off. Then filling the sink up a little with soapy water to actually do dishes. “Eden, what time is it?” he called out while he was drying the dishes and setting them into the cupboards.

It is about ten minutes after nine, sir,

“Thank you,” he finished putting the plates away and he looked over to Hailey. “Are you ready?” he asked while drying his hands on the towel that he dried the dishes with.

Hailey considered it. She considered backing out, running away. But it was a pipe dream, and it would be a slap to the face to Asterion.

So, she pushed down her doubts, and regarded Asterion with steely eyes.

”I'm ready.”

“Thank you for cooperating and doing this,” the man stated while leading the woman back into the elevator and this time pressing the button that had G on it. It took them down to a floor that was definitely not the ground floor but it looked like a false one to a point except with no exit. A receptionist was there and she smiled and waved. Asterion gestured a hand up to simply wave back before leading Hailey down the hall. The woman was doing something and two double wide doors opened to her right and upon entering. It was like a production studio.

While they walked through the production studio, there were big lights, different chairs, and a bunch of other equipment though they didn’t stop at any of it. They walked past it all into a room that looked comfortable. It looked so fake with the setup of furniture and the colors were so relaxing of the talk-show like room.

Asterion smiled back at Hailey, “Here we are,” he gestured both hands out.

Hailey could feel her heart racing. The lights, the stage. She was really doing this. She was really going on live television and apologizing.

Her hands wrung quietly, before she bit down on her lip and clenched her hands to be still. No, no more fear. She could do this.

Fuck, she couldn't do this-

Hailey bore her gnashed teeth, smacking her cheeks to get into the zone. Then, a nod.

”Let's get this over with, I'm not scared.”

That was when another pair of footsteps could be heard coming towards the room. It sounded feminine by the weight and it sounded like they were wearing heels. Juniper came through those doors with a smile, her hair styled nicely, along with her dressed in an emerald suit jacket with a matching pencil skirt. A white frilly undershirt with a purple floppy bow tie for women. “Good morning you two,” she shyly smiled at Hailey with a little wave before walking over to Asterion.

“Good morning, June, thank you for agreeing to do this. I did not want to bother Mitzie, she has a lot of work on her plate and the day off,” he confessed while putting his hands on June’s shoulders and pressing a quick and quite formal peck on her cheek.

June shook her head and with a teasing tone, “So I don’t get days off?”

He rolled his eyes, “You will be reimbursed, do not worry,” his voice was more serious than joking in the sense.

She huffed out with a humorous tone, “Go sit down so you do not hurt yourself,” she waved him over to a seating area off stage. That was when the two went over there and Asterion sat down. Within seconds, he looked at June, and a bright flash could be seen. Asterion’s body limped in the chair like a lifeless husk. No energy. No soul. Nothing was in his body for the moment.

June walked over to the equipment before pressing a few buttons and grabbing a remote that she kept out of the picture, just incase, “We are on in forty-five seconds, princess,” she said with such a feminine and cheerful voice while she walked onto the stage. Her hips moved a little more with the walk unlike how her regular walk looked compared to when she came in and walked up to Asterion.

“You can stand or you can sit, I have to make a little speech beforehand, so you can try your best to relax. I will queue you by gesturing to you. I will make sure not to name you either,” he added. He did not want any of his people linking Hailey to Flint or any other district.

Hailey watched as Asterion jumped into the body of the healer. It was time, wasn't it?

She used her forty-five seconds to sit on the right side seating of the stage, sitting up straight with her legs crossed, hands folded in her lap. She tried to be the picture of calm, though her insides wanted to boil over.

She tried to ignore her own fears as much as possible, instead focusing on ‘Asterion’. And, keeping her eyes open for the cue.

There was a screen higher up that June, aka, Asterion was looking at and it was counting down the time. Once the timer hit all zeros, he smiled with the woman’s face, “Good morning Nickel District, this is Asterion Kairo, and I am here to speak about the events that happened yesterday. It was a saddening time for quite a few people. We lost loved ones, community members, and damage had been done to some of the institutions, establishments, and material goods. It’s because I am considered a threat to the outer districts and the rest of Nocturnia. I know. That statement might not make sense to many of you but it is true. I can be a threat and that scares people. It scares people to a point where they meant to only cause chaos or simple issues but not what happened last night,” this was when Asterion gestured for Hailey to come stand up beside him if she wanted to. Hailey did so, smoothing out her skirt and standing beside ‘Asterion’, a look of admonishment on her face.

“And people do not always mean to go through with actions that they did. We are all human and we need to understand each other and accept our flaws and arrogance with grace,” Asterion continued to speak before he gently smiled at Hailey with June’s face.

Hailey glanced at ‘Asterion’, swallowed the lump in her throat, and gazed at the camera. Her hands folded in front of her skirt, and she bowed. Her brother might have been crazy, but he had ensured she knew her manners, especially when she messed up.

Eyes averted, she spoke in a subdued voice that still carried. ”I want to apologize for my actions yesterday. I hurt a lot of people and caused terror in Nickel. My heart goes out to the families whom I harmed, and I give my most sincere condolences to them. I will endeavor to improve myself and do better, so no one has to suffer like that ever again.”

She held her pose for a few seconds more, before she slowly straightened up, eyes flickering at the camera once before averting themselves again.

Asterion smiled, “Thank you, the people of Nickel appreciate your apology,” the man stated before looking at the camera. His eyes flashing pinkish-purple, “Handfuls of my men and women are already working to fix the damage and help the families that experienced personal losses. I know we cannot replace lives but we can replace other things. Thank you for giving us our time, citizens of Nickel, and we will see each other again,” with the hidden remote, he pressed it, and the camera cut out. The equipment could be heard powering off.

Walking back up to the equipment and setting the remote down. Asterion walked back over to his body and with a flash of light jumped back into it. June seemed slightly dazed at the sudden transfer and she brought a hand up to her head, “That is a feeling I will never be able to get used to,” she confessed.

Asterion chuckled, “I am sorry but I do appreciate that you let me use your face instead of using my own,” he seemed to roll his shoulders and stretch his hands to check for control before standing up. “Thank you, June. We will talk later. Okay? I have to attend to little sister,” he stepped around the woman and she waved versus speaking her mind. She knew he was a busy man and she was busy herself — she needed to get out of this makeup and go back to working at the medical center.

The man walked over to Hailey, placing his hands gently on her shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Thank you for doing that, princess. That takes a lot of courage and maturity. You might not understand but that apology means a lot to the citizens of Nickel and it means a lot to me as well,” this was when he stepped back and allowed his hands to fall away from her shoulders and arms.

Haiely stared up curiously at him. The affection was the same as what her Big Brother would do. Would she end up calling Asterion ‘Big Brother' one day too?

“Is there anything you want from your room or to do anything else before you go?” Asterion asked while he gestured for her to walk with him.

She fell in step behind him, surprised once again. ”Wait, you're letting me go? But you haven't heard word from Big Brother yet, have you?”

She glanced down at her clothes. She had a tattered outfit she should change back into - the clothes Asterion had lent her weren't her own after all.

”It's a wonderful room, but I wouldn't feel right taking anything…”

The man glanced over a broad shoulder and smirked crookedly, “Take whatever you want from that room. If you do not. It will only go to a donation center but I think those outfits were chosen for you and not many others could pull such styles off,” he confessed while continuing to walk. Gesturing for her to keep up as he continued to go through the maze of doors and hallways before stopping at a door. Facing Hailey as he stood there.

“The main thing I wanted was an apology and I got that. My people got that. If you want nothing from your room or anything else. I will walk you to the lobby and see you off. It does not matter if I do not hear from Big Brother or not. I think we have a deal we both can mutually respect and if it cannot be… then we have no deal at all,” he shrugged at the thought. Having a deal with Flint meant he was going to die. Not having a deal meant that deal was off. Neither of them would be able to keep their words to each other if one couldn’t hold theirs.

”Ah, I see… So you're working together now?” Hailey smiled. ”That's good, that's really good.”

She shuffled a bit, stammering with her words. ”Is it… Is it possible for me to keep the kitty and this outfit…? That would… That would really help me.”

He shook his head in the negative, “Not quite,” he added. “Let me say, I think we understood each other to an extent and nothing more,” Asterion wouldn’t consider Flint Weathersteel and him as partners or even working together. He could say that they had an understanding to a point and they both wanted very similar things even if that meant Asterion’s fate to be sealed in the end.

A pursed lip smile appeared on his face as he dipped his head, “Yes, you may. If you want to know the name of the cat, it is Chamomile,” he informed her. “Let us go get here and then I can see you out,” he walked up to the door and opened it. Revealing a semi-hidden elevator. Then he glanced at Hailey, “I could keep you until your brother contacts me though I think you would be bored and I have business to do. It would not be proper for a young lady to follow me around and hear all that…nasty information,” once Hailey was into the elevator. They would go back to her room — she would have time to gather her original clothing and Asterion would get the cat into a comfortable carrying bag for small pets for Hailey.

Hailey grimaced before nodding. He was probably right.

Giving the room a once over, Hailey draped her old clothes over her arm, eyeing the carry case. ”Chamomile is very cute, I'll take good care of her.”

“I know you will.”

She nodded to herself, imagining all the ways she was going to spoil Chamomile at her Big Brother's estate. Then glanced back over at Asterion.

”I think that's everything.”

Asterion led Hailey out from the maze of rooms, tricks, and the hidden mysterious of the skyscraper. When her cellphone back, she called up one of her Big Brother's drivers. And, in about ten minutes, Hailey was off to enjoy her freedom.

It was only about a half hour later when Asterion received a call from Flint, letting him know that the deed in 93rd Street was done.

93rd Street was now Asterion's.

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Asterion: W +3.5 P +7

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NOCTURNIA NEWS - 11AM

_{Mentions: The Order (@ERode, Nickel (@The Savant), 93rd Street (@Estylwen), Emily (@LanaStorm), Leon (@Herald) Interactions: NA}

---

The morning news was broadcast to all areas of Nocturnia, live from the main news station in Jeweled Bank.

A young woman sat in front of the camera, flashes of images appearing in the screen behind her.

”Good morning, Nocturnia. We have breaking news from seven districts today. And please stay tuned for a special note from our sponsor later on in the program.”

The camera shifted angles, getting closer as the news woman prepared to give her overview.

”Last Night the Bewery District was covered in snow, and living popsicles. Fair warning, some of the images may be graphic.”

Snapshot views of the district covered in snow, and frozen statues.

”Eye witnesses report seeing a person weighing an ice-type gyft. However, the suspect as disappeared, and we had heard no word from the Akula Crew that run the district.”

The news reporter shuffled her papers. ”There was an uprising in Merryland yesterday as people took to the streets to remove what is now being confirmed as a military group from the district. The leaders of this riot have remained uncomfortable, but supporters of the riot have claimed that an organization named the Order of Enlightenment are the ones to thank for that.”

The camera shifted angles again, and images of explosions in an expensive district shuffled across the screen.

”Explosions shattered the air in Nickel as a lone gyfter caused chaos in the district. They were quickly thwarted, but not before several casualties had occurred. The leader of the district, Asterion Kairo, gave an official word on the situation this morning.”

Then the camera cut to show clips of the broadcast in Nickel, showing June and Hailey. After Hailey gave her apology speech, the camera cut back to the Nocturnia news reporter.

”Our sources have confirmed the identity of the bomb-wielder, 23-year-old Hailey Vagabond, known for her connection with a mysterious organization only known as ‘M.PHAT’. It is unclear if charges will be pressed.”

The screen behind the news reporter switched to scenes of a lowly office building in 92rd Street, bullets piercing many of the windows.

”Witnesses reported multiple rounds of gunfire emanating from the main holdings of the local criminal organization. However, with lack of a police presence, there has been a lack of an investigation on this issue.”

”That brings me to the next segment in our breaking news. There was a massacre in North Battleford late last night, where Detective Newport and her team attempted to save a hostage from the local criminal syndicate, the Battleford 20. By the time the press got to the scene, all remaining members of the syndicate were shot, and a lack of negotiations was made apparent. Citizens are crying out, calling for justice for their befallen.”

”On a lighter note, Detective MacAoidh and his crew restored order in Oliver Fields, apprehending the boss of the organization and saving the little girl that the criminals had abducted.”

The news reporter shuffled her papers once more, before fixing her gaze on the camera.

”As most citizens of Nocturnia are aware, air traffic is forbidden over the Nocturnia skies. However, there are reports of an air drop in Yellow Brick. The local police force in Yellow Brick reported the drop to be designer clothes. However, reports from Merryland have confirmed that the drop, in fact, was a military-grade weapon and ammunition.”

The news reporter gave the camera a nod. ”And we'll be back after this short message.”

The camera cut away, and an ad started to roll. A jingle familiar to all Nocturnians began to play.

”Noc Noc city burg, Noc Noc city chow~☆”

A happy child holding a burger, taking a big bite, splashed across the screen. It then cut to some menu items and their prices.

”Try our classic Noc Noc Burger, the famed and reknowned! Or, go for our newest selection, Noc Noc Veggie Burger!”

The jingle played again as the ad faded to black, and the intro to the news broadcast played again. The news reporter sat in her chair, her demeanour the same well-kept and polished.

”Early this morning, Ceo Soylent Green of Nocturnia's famous Noc Noc Burger held a press conference.”

The camera cut to a dark-haired, green-eyed woman standing at a mic-riddled podium. Her gaze was calm and composed.

”There have been allegations of our company not being forthright with our ingredients. I want to put everyone at ease, here and now, that Noc Noc Burger is completely transparent with our ingredients and labels. We are proud to be the first franchise to be completely self-sufficient from the incoming aid. We will not back down, and we will not be coded by these pointless rumors.”

There was another cut, and the news reporter in her seat once again appeared on the screen. Images of missing people, both children and adults, appeared behind her.

”This morning, the Mayor of Nocturnia, Valencia Nocturnal, addressed the press in regards to the missing persons cases.”

The screen showed the mayor, a white-haired woman standing behind a podium outside Town Hall in Jeweled Bank. There were flashes of cameras as she spoke.

”I want to assure all the citizens of Nocturnia that we are utilizing every resource available to put an end to the missing persons cases. It's true, there have been an uptick in cases this month alone. But I have my best officers on the case, and am hopeful for a resolution. Meanwhile, I would advise every Nocturnian to adhere to safety guidelines. Stay indoors after dark, travel in groups.”

Then the camera cut to the news reporter one last time, and gave the camera a nod. ”That concludes our Breaking News 11 AM session. Thank you for tuning in, and stay safe, Nocturnia.”

---

Nocturnia Prison, Jeweled Bank

_{Mentions: NA Interactions: Emily (@LanaStorm)}

---

The Commissioner sat in her office, leaned back in her seat, cellphone pressed to her ear. Her eyes occasionally flickered to the news broadcast playing on a live streaming platform on her computer.

”Miss Mayor, I would ask that you reconsider.”

A long pause, before the Commissioner sighed. ”Very well, I'll come by your office later today.”

Her eyes glanced to the live stream again, before hardening. ”Right… I look forward to it, Miss Mayor.”

That was when she pulled her phone away fast enough to dial another number, and pressed that one to her ear. Detective Newport's would be ringing at that moment.

”Detective Newport, I need to see you in my office today, at your earliest convenience.” The Commissioner said, her voice hiding a hint of ice.

---

Antonia: W +3 P +5

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The Brewery District Ice Man

The Jolly Jalopy, Brewery District

_{Mentions: NA Interactions: Antonio (@flux)}

---

It was the shakes that woke the ice man up. He found himself face down on a counter. Shifting a little, that counter was actually a bar, and he was in a cute stool to match it. Not that he really cared, in that moment.

”Ughh… shit.”

His head pounded, and there was a burning need in every tremor of his bones. He needed more of that glowy stuff. He had to find his pusher, yes, the ones who leveled guns at him. Where else was he suppose to find that high again, though?

The ice man slowly blinked, wiping his beared face with a hand, before he squinted.

Where exactly was he?

---

Khor: W +3 P +5

---

PD Station, Yellow Brick

_{In collaboration with @Yankee
Mentions: Asterion (@The Savant), The Order (@ERode) Interactions: Adel (@Yankee)}

---

It was a shitshow.

He had lost Merryland and 93rd Street in one fell sweep. The soldiers also reported movement on the border of Yellow Brick and Nickel.

It was clear. An attack on Yellow Brick, his stronghold and final district, was imminent. With his luck, both the Kairo Mafia and Order would time their attack at the same time.

Phade had mentioned Matthias had tried to strike a deal. An unfair one. One that would result in him losing all his territories and being relocated. But now?

Would he fight to the bitter end? Would he surrender? Would they kill him? Or would they, in fact, relocate him?

One of his soldiers, pale-faced, had passed him a card. The Canary, an entity he had marked out as a key player within the city, was interested in striking a deal.

There wasn't much more Glyde could lose, at this point. Except maybe his life and the life of his soldiers. So, he proceeded to call the number on the card.

”...Canary? It's Glyde, the Staff Sergeant of the Del Guarde. As I'm sure you're aware, we're backed up against a corner. I'm interested in what kind of deal you wanted to cut.”

"Straight to the point, huh? That's fine."

The call had come sooner than Adel had expected it, but all that implied was that Glyde was really desperate. Adel had his dossier, but knew admittedly little about the man as a person. So far he seemed sensible at the very least, one to think things through with restraint since he hadn't unleashed the literal big guns yet. It might very well be possible to work with him.

"It's nothing big. I don't have a fighting force to lend you," Adel said, though briefly his eyes looked out of his office's interior window. No doubt Griffon would love to see some action, but he wasn't about to let that happen. "I can give you information instead. Whatever you think will help you out I can get for you if I don't already know it. I can put you in touch with our police commissioner too, she might jump at the chance to collaborate against the mafias targeting you. And I'll even do it for cheap."

Imperceptible to Glyde, Adel leaned forward at his desk. "In return, I want your outside contacts. And a safe passage out of Nocturnia for whoever needs it."

There was a growl on Glyde's end of the line. Whatever his thoughts were, he had the wisdom not to voice them. ”...I can get you that contact. But I don't have authority to grant free passage out. Only the upper echelon outside. And they won't budge unless you sweeten the pot considerably for them.

“If you can agree with that… I'd need to know what gyfts they have on their end. And who's close to their leader. Someone that their boss will cave for…”

There was a moment of quiet as Adel considered it. It had been too much to hope for that Sergeant Glyde could guarantee a way out, he knew that. But military contacts were a good start, especially as he now knew they were interfering a lot more in Nocturnia than anyone had originally thought.

"Second part's gonna be harder. And more dangerous," he said, "but not impossible. 10k and I'll find out, and tell you what I’ve already got."

”Done.” Glyde said with little hesitation. ”Just give me the bank details and I’ll send it.”

After Glyde was given the bank details of the enigmatic Canary, he wired $10,000. ”You’d really better not be fucking me over, I swear…”

"I take my business very seriously, sergeant," Adel responded humorlessly. "And I trust you'll be connecting me with your superiors. For now, I hope you've got a pen."

It would take time to find information on a mafia's loved ones if they didn't want them to be found. And most didn't, for obvious reasons. Their gyfts were a different matter entirely, and much harder to keep secret as it were.

There was a shuffle of paper on Glyde's side. ”Ready. Fire away, Canary.”

---

Adel: W +3 P +5, W +1, Glyde: -1 W

---

PD Station, Yellow Brick

_{Mentions: NA Interactions: Anyone attacking Yellow District}

---

The afternoon sun failed to penetrate low clouds. Glyde sat there on the roof, legs over the edge, staring in the direction of Nickel. Just yesterday morning he thought things were looking up for him, with the airdrop from outside.

But now? He had lost two districts overnight, and he could feel hands tightening around his throat for the last one.

He stared into the distance, his teeth gritted as his mind racked with options. Before his radio buzzed. ”Sir, we got ‘em.”

”Put him in the holding cell, like how we discussed.” Glyde answered easily, before he rose to his feet.

The Canary had given him quite a bit of helpful information. Hints on the Kairo Mafia Boss’ ability to swap bodies. Their identity, dark-haired and light-skinned. Someone to look out for. Elara and her plant ability. Existence of a Zerek. Someone named Mitzie without a gyft. Someone named June who was a healer. Hints of a ‘gun head' in the Order. And, what he already knew - Matthias and his smoke head, and that one woman, named Celina, and her ‘monster house' ability.

Appraising the information, it wasn't a lot to go off. But it was more than what he knew the night previous. And taking the Kairo Mafia's right hand man, Krish, might just be his ticket out of this.

His soldiers were deployed to patrol a block out from the PD station. Soldiers had their guns drawn and ready, patrolling every inch of the station, eyes on every entryway. Krish was strapped down in a chair in a locked holding cell, a button-activated bomb wrapped around his chest. The words ‘Parley’ were written on a sign board on the roof of the station.

Glyde was counting on Celina to use her ability to find Krish, and stop before he was forced to blow him up. Krish was their gambit to get an audience with the boss of the Kairo Mafia, maybe Matthais. And negotiate a way out of this.

He lowered a pair of shades over his face, matching the rest of his men. And, taking his station with his men in front of the holding cells, he waited.

Map of Glyde's PD Station in Yellow Brick

---

Glyde: W +1 P +3

---

Matthias: W +3 P +10

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ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Melodia Serenis

Melodia Serenis

25 | Female | Human

Description: Melodia has long brown hair and brown eyes, with a figure that would make some courtiers jealous. She wears leather-padded scoop-neck blue blouse, accented with a half skirt over cream tight pants with knee-high brown leather boots. She sometimes wears jewellery to accent her adventurer's look. She keeps a dagger handy in her boot, and a sword at her belt.

She was once a Sister of the Flame, part of a monotheistic cult from a neighboring kingdom of Ravenfell. After an unmentioned disgrace, she left the Priory and struck out on her own as a mercenary mage for hire. Her talent with a selection of pyromancy spells lead her to all sorts of different jobs, not all of them pleasant.

Eventually, she crossed paths with Anton when he required aid in destroying a baggage train in a select amount of time. For a modest fee, Melodia set fire to the entire baggage train within minutes while Anton had kept its guards very busy. Afterward, Anton offered a permanent place with the Braves and, seeing a chance to depart from the solitary life, Melodia took him up on the offer.

Magic:
x Shield - A defensive spell, Melodia conjures a barrier that protects her and two others beside her.

x Flames - A simple destruction spell, Melodia evokes a small plume of fire from her fingertips.

x Firebolt - A classic destruction spell, Melodia launches a bolt of fire at a target at range.

x Protection from Fire - Given her proclivity for fire, Melodia often bestows this spell upon herself and her companions. For half an hour, those bearing this benediction (as well as whatever they have equipped) are protected from the heat of ordinary and magical flames.

x Wall of Fire - An oft defensive spell, Melodia etches magic into the ground that bursts with a wall of flames to halt an advance. She usually either blocks off chokepoints or creates a defensive circle. The flames last for half a minute or until Melodia wills it, whichever comes first.

x Song of Fire - Melodia augments her pyromancy with her voice, uttering a haunting dirge as fire. Uncontrollable geysers of flame violently erupt and explode from the ground in a large area around her, increasing in frequency and intensity as Melodia's voice maintains and reaches a crescendo.