Tesserach

Recollections: Primal Sinister

Ioan M. Foster

The Hollow Tap
1530 hours

The presence of a blue maserati on the streets of south side was a rare sight south side, the sort of flare that only a handful of individuals this side of the river dared to show in public. If its mere presence outside the Hollow Tap Coven didn't attract attention to the few people lingering around the street corners, the revving of its engine - loud enough to wake the dead - before it peeled away from the curb certainly had.

Whatever anyone thought of the obnoxious sound, or the somewhat diminutive man with dark and steel grey eyes in the tailored suit and polished shoes that was left standing there, no one said anything. People around The Hollow Tap knew better than to ask questions or open their mouths, and it was the one place an over-dressed man might reasonably expect to be left alone in all of South Side.

Putting a hand on the door to the Hollow Tap he pushed it open and stepped inside. Within he lingered at the threshold as though waiting while his blue eyes adjusted to the lighting while he surveyed the tables, the patrons, and the bar itself. Whatever thoughts passed through his mind a nostalgic smiled tugged at his lips and he nodded to himself before approaching the bar.

Curious glances from some of the pub regulars seemed to confirm this wasn't one of the familiar faces they were used to seeing walk-in, nor did the man show any recognition to any of the faces present - some of whom might have been familiar from another time, and another life long, long ago.

The man made eye contact with the bartender and smiled a broad friendly smile as he approached. "I'm here to see Gideon." He said this as though it were an ordinary thing to say here. Nor was it framed as a question. "Let him know Ioan's here, and likes what he's done with the place." Despite not being a familiar face, the man leaned patiently against the bar affecting a sort of seemingly genuine relaxed calm that some common visitors here never truly mastered.

Recollections: Primal Sinister

NPCs

Ryan Jackson

Ryan.Jackson

41 | Ryan Jackson | He/Him [hr//]"The fuck is that?"

Description:

Ryan Jackson's official resume has him working in corporate biotech, working for several companies selling boring agricultural products around the world. Unofficially a deep background check into US government comes mostly redacted and might actually raise system flags about anyone searching the name.

These days he's retired from government work, having entered the far more lucrative business of corporate security. Four years ago he'd assumed a career that had taken him to global hot spots meant he'd seen it all and that his employment with MFF Industries would be a quiet retirement, mostly keeping tabs on foreign and strategic threat groups trying to steal sensitive MFF Industry secrets.

Holy shit was he wrong.

Abstraction:

None, but may have access to minor artifacts

Alejandra Escriva

Alejandra.Escriva

23 | Alejandra Escriva | She/Her [hr//]"I'M JUST AN INTERN!"

Description:

alejandra is a recent graduate of NCU, father is from southside but has lived in north Cloverfield all her life. She recently completed her masters in social work, but was pressured by family to take a more business oriented internship with the intent of doing community work southside.

Her internship with MFF Industries has recently taken a sudden and dramatic turn after CEO Ioan Foster decided he 'saw something' in her.

Abstraction:

None

Wild Beasts of the Earth (Gothic Horror)

Also welcome Whackytaffy to the RP

Recollections: Primal Sinister

Ioan M. Foster

MFF Industries Boardroom - 07:15

Outside the large plateglass window Cloverfield was just beginning to emerge from its nightime slumber. Cars filtering through the streets of southside, the ferry making its morning foray lazily over the Deepwater River. Across the river the run down, brown brickwork of southside gave way to the sprawling cityline profile of Cloverfield's downtown core on northside. Perched atop a massive drumlin hill, six stories up in MFF Industries' powerplant, the city looked small.

Inside the boardroom the lights were dimmed. Outside the mountains obscured the rising sun such that the whole of the boardroom was illuminated solely by the light of the powerpoint projector and the city lights beyond with the effect of casting the whole of the room in a state of unnatural twilight. Figures in suits, men and women of serious disposition craned their necks, staring in rapt silence in the direction of the illuminated wall-screen, while an intern in heels stepped around refilling decanters of ice water before taking her place quietly in a corner out of sight. The words "Serenova Treatment - A Fresh Start to Mental Peace" illuminated the screen as a heading.

A presentation was in progress, the slides of the powerpoint shifted through initial preamble, talking mostly about something called 'Serenova', how it had passed initial animal and phase I human testing without serious consequences. How it made use of patented technology - held by a shell company owned by Lux (and built and initially tested by MFF's own R&D department) - designed to treat serious depressive disorders as well as anxiety and bi-polar issues. These and other things the figures watched in silence, occasionally nodding, occasionally shifting through their notes and papers or sipping from their coffee cups.

At the head of the room MFF Industries' CEO watched silently, less at the presentation than the people. Among those present he was one of the few aware of Lux Medical Technologies wasn't merely a strategic partner, but rather, wholly owned by MFF Industries - insulated from their activities by a slew of overseas shell companies that ultimately traced their way to a Panamanian Law Firm, whose partners were the listed owners of several private equity firms who collectively controlled Lux. Most even on MFF's board believed they were simply first in line to build the equipment for this treatment when the time came, and eager to be involved in buying up Lux shares during it's much anticipated Initial Public Offering.

"Off label treatment is very much on the table though." The knowing smile of the Lux presenter was cast in a gentle moonlit blue light to gentle applause as she yielded the floor to Dr. Pavinder Khadri, Lux's Chief Technical Officer. It was he who took up position to one side of the room, the pair of Lux presenters so far yielded the floor, taking their seats. There was ceremony and deference to it. Calculation too. An air of anticipation filled the boardroom. People leaned forward.

This was Lux's superstar, and the main event was about to begin.

"Now, what I'm sure most of you have been waiting to hear." The tone of the presentation immediately changed as Dr. Khadri advanced to the next slide. He was more animated than the others. Here was a man that enjoyed his work, and had news he was excited to share. "Most of the data-analysis from phase 2 trials is complete, but we are now very confident declaring our Phase II trials a resounding success." 
Gentle applause from the board.

"A total of 957 patients completed the full study cycle - which is a very significant number for phase 2 trials, reflecting the excitement our product has generated from both patients and medical service providers. Our phase 2 results clearly show self-reported efficacy showing reductions in significant negative emotions and intrusive thoughts of 90% over benchmark treatments."

There was clapping around the boardroom as the screen flipped through the graphs from the study. A tepid smile tugged even at Mr. Foster's lips as he surveyed the table, the news drawing a few tepid claps from his own stoic hands.

"Double blinded assessment tools applied by our researchers overwhelming confirm these numbers. A 67% improvement in the number of respondents showing positive response to Serenova over benchmark treatments, for the least severe symptoms. The reason this is lower, is self reports are always high. However, reduction of the most severe symptoms was higher still, scores show a 127% point improvement over benchmark treatments. Overall nearly 95% of those in the study group, showed significant positive response to the Serenova treatment regime. These are unprecedented numbers in any study." 

The room erupted clapping and smiles around the table. Executives were patting each other's backs, smiles ear to ear. 
So much so that Dr. Khadri had to speak up to be heard even as the room began to die down. "AND we have reason to expect there are synergistic effects when combined with existing medical interventions."

Renewed clapping and applause from the executive team, who rose from their seats. The only exceptions were the loan intern in the corner, who seemed to be hiding, and MFF's CEO, Mr. Foster, who remained seated presiding over the jubilant board room with an indulgent grin and a tepid set of claps.

At this point the boardroom opened to questions from those present for Dr. Khadri.

"How long does the full treatment program take?"

"Our study cycle is two years, but this would be ah... a recurring treatment. Once treatment is discontinued, resumption of negative symptoms typically occurs within one to two weeks."

"So we'd be looking at, indefinite continuation of the treatment?"

Dr. Khadri smiled uncomfortably at the question. "We would be looking to pair the treatment with interventions targeted to reduce root causes of the negative symptoms. However, we expect the most common use of our treatment will be for depression, and having read some of our patient profiles it would be fair to say many of the root causes are not responsive to medical interventions."

One of the other Lux presenters spoke up. "So the answer to your question, for patients, is 'most likely'." Then to the rest of the board. "All chargeable of course."

This was exciting news. More clapping. Someone began hooting in the boardroom.

Lux's marketing officer spoke up at this point. The room being loud enough they had to shout to be heard. "We also have some confidential indications through our partners in the medical insurance sector!" The room began to grow still again by this fresh declaration. "Lux has a number of strategic partners, who are seeing the same data you are. Including Insurance Companies, and partner companies - employers - who are participating in study recruitment. Interest in our product coming to market has been high."

"How high?"

"We're being told that participating partners have seen radical improvements in workplace attendance, retention, productivity." The marketing representative declared, having to raise their voice again as people began standing up. The excitement was becoming infectious in the room. "They want to know how soon they can get this treatment on their workplace insurance plans!" People in the board were all rising to their feet. "We had a meeting just last week with insurance and industry partners about lobbying for expedited FDA approval!"
The room exploded. Clapping. Hooting. Senior executives elbowing one another. Bedlam had erupted. Announcements and news like this did not simply happen.

"And keep in mind people, the byproduct of this treatment is itself a revenue stream." Another of the Lux reps actually had to stand up on their chair and shout to make the last part heard.

And then, a sudden calming ran through the room. At first even those in attendance seemed confused as to where the sudden wave of silence was coming from but starting at the front of the table in ran down the whole length of it like a cold shudder. "Please, ladies, gentlemen." Mr. Foster's voice was eventually heard as one by one the table fell silent. His voice was neither loud nor harsh yet the very act of him speaking at all seemed to run through the room like a shudder. "We do have a meeting to finish, and I have an 8 o'clock. Dr. Khadri, please, finish your presentation."

The room settled into a more muted, quieter, more electric energy as people seated themselves. Serious faces resumed. People straightened suits and sat back down.

Dr. Khadri closed with some final remarks. "Obviously there are some caveats. Disclosures that must be made." He began running through a set of very standard conditions, warning common to such studies. Ending with one particular one that drew some raised eyebrows along the table. "Most significantly however, our study group did show a small, but statistically significant uptick in rate of suicide."

A chill descended over the room and as Dr. Khadri prepared to continue someone interrupted him. "That's... serious isn't it?"

Dr. Khadri shifted from foot to foot before the powerpoint screen, and adjusted his glasses. This was clearly a question he'd prepared for. "Any increase in suicide rate is taken very seriously. Yes." He prepared to resume his presentation when another person asked.

"Is this... likely to affect approval?"

Dr. Khadri looked annoyed, but responded. "That will depend on Phase III trials, however as I was about to say, this was an expected outcome of the study in our original filings to the FDA. Previous treatments for these disorders have had similar side effects. Our treatment reduces intrusive negative emotions, allowing our patients to more calmly go about their lives. While these can have a very significant deleterious effect on patient well-being, they can also have a protective effect as in the case of inhibitory fears towards... say, suicide. Obviously this is serious, but what we're seeing is both expected and within limits the FDA has already approved for other treatments."

"How much leeway do we have on this?"

"Previous treatments accepted by the FDA that showed very significant positive benefits have typically seen approval so long total increase in suicide rate does not rise above 0.2%. Based on our effect sizes, so long as our efficacy data holds in Phase III we could reasonably expect the FDA to go as high as 0.5%, especially with strong backing from the insurance industry and major companies fighting to get us on their work plans. Remember too, Serenova is a procedure not a drug with complicated pharmacokinetics. Historically such treatments hold up much better in Phase III. Based on our previous animal testing, we expect most of our phase 2 results to hold up much better in phase 3 compared to industry standards."

"Do you have projections on what increases we might expect in Phase 3?"

"Based on post-hoc analysis, and going into patient records, we think some of the noted uptick is statistical anomaly from the randomization process. Our control group happened to show one fewer suicide than expected. Ours had one more. Post-hoc analysis of patient profiles suggest the study group did wind up with a higher relative risk index. This will all be controlled for in phase III. There's risk in such projections but controlling for these, we're projecting with 95% confidence we'll land between 0.05-0.25% increase. We are also hoping that, as follow up data continues, over time lifestyle improvements will push us back into net-positive territory but that hasn't manifested in the data yet."

Once things began to settle down there were congratulations to Dr. Khadri and the rest of Lux's technical team for the work they'd been doing. The conversation turned then to discussions of Lux's financial position and how much money they'd need to raise during an IPO offering to ensure they'd be able to complete phase 3 trials and bring the product to market, then the talk turned to contracts for MFF to build the facilities to actually build the treatment equipment.

The end of Dr. Khadri's presentation had taken some of the wind out of the room as discussions shifted then to Lux's financial position and what sort of assets they'd need to finish out phase III trials and bring the treatment to market. Some of the jubilant mood returned when the marketing team discussed projected market shares, with a potential client base of potentially 10 million within the US alone. This coupled with the revenue estimates that accompanied them restored smiles to everyones faces by the time the meeting was adjourned.

Mr. Foster was one exception, remaining much as he had throughout. A somewhat bemused figure presiding over the whole affair as he watched the presentation play out. The other was the intern, who'd remained stationary in the corner and looked by this point like she'd very much prefer being elsewhere, her fingers tapping against the cellphone in the waist pocket of her blazer.

Mr. Foster pulled out his pocketwatch as closing statements finished and people began standing up, shuffling papers and exchanging handshakes. He stood then, taking a position, sentinel-like then by the door, thanking everyone with a great smile, a firm handshake and a pat on the shoulder as they left through the door held open by the intern and a few jovial remarks as the room quickly emptied.

"You. Stay." Mr. Foster declared abruptly when it was just two left in the room and the intern was half-way out the door.
The intern froze in the doorway, like a gazelle having caught first sight of a predator in the distance, caught between fight and flight. Slowly, reluctantly, she stepped back into the room. Her shoulders tightened ever so slightly when Mr. Foster instructed her to close the door, but she did so.

Her shoulders half-relaxed when Mr. Foster began walking away from and not towards her. "Go on, have a seat. Just a friendly chat."
The intern, still wary, slowly seated herself - very uncomfortably - in the chair.

"Ms. Escriva was it?" Mr. Foster paused in front of the enormous plate glass window overlooking Cloverfield, planting his hands in his pockets, his back to the young woman. Beyond, the sun was just beginning to peak above the mountain tops and he became like a shadow against the backdrop of Cloverfield bathed in golden light, and he as a shadow looming before it.

"Yes sir." Ms. Escriva managed, unable to hide her surprise that he even remembered her name, much less her discomfort at being placed on the spot, or being alone in a room with the CEO of the company she interned for. This was the set up to the sort of horror stories that were plastered all over the internet. On the other hand there was an entire room, and probably 40ft of table between her and the man so long as he stayed over there.

"Look you're not in trouble - in fact, quite the opposite. I just like to take the measure of the people I work with. This company, more or less runs itself, and I just... keep an eye out for anything that looks out of place. Try and make sure I have the right people, in the right place. You know? Everyone else seemed happy, excited even, by what they were hearing in there: except you. You seemed troubled. Which tells me: you saw something that none of them did."

Ms. Escriva shifted uncomfortably in her chair, unsure if she should answer. She knew what she'd heard, but it was more what hadn't been said that troubled her. "I wouldn't say troubled sir. I'm just an intern - this is maybe a little be above me." She offered instead, unsure if some things were even safe to say out loud. If, perhaps, this wasn't some sort of trap.

Mr. Foster turned his head slightly, a perfect side-profile of a prominent jaw and chin set in shadow against Cloverfield beyond the plate glass. "Just an intern?!" A gentle belly laugh ran through the boardroom for a moment in a way that did absolutely nothing to alleviate the notion that this was, in fact, a trap. "Don't sell yourself short Alejandra. You don't mind if I call you Alejandra, do you? 'Just an intern.' You have a masters degree don't you?"

Alejandra Escriva did not move. She did not breathe. For a moment it was as though time itself stood still as she sat, fixed in her seat. She definitely wasn't okay with him calling her by her first name, and she definitely hadn't ever mentioned it to him, much less her degree. She could feel him watching her with one eye. He didn't move, a figure still as death itself in front of the window. Should I leave? Was this... something I shouldn't have heard

Scenarios ran through her head like wildfire, until the thought came unbidden to her ringing crystal clear in her mind.
Is he going to kill me?

Alejandra Escriva did not answer the question. She remained still as a ghost.
"We'll leave it at Ms. Escriva then." Mr. Foster laughed, nodding then as if apprehending her discomfort. "But I am curious. I have use for people who can see what others don't. Something troubled you in that meeting. I saw it. I'm curious what. Go on. No wrong opinions here, this is a safe space."

Alejandra shifted in her seat uncomfortably again before forcing herself to relax. "Okay. Okay." She said. "If I'm... honest. I may not be a medical expert, but.... this treatment is going to kill people."
"Ah." Mr. Foster nodded then, as if finally understanding the answer to some deep puzzle.
"And I'm no medical expert but I can do a little math..."

"And?"

"Even 0.05% of 10 million patients is... 50,000 people. Dead people." Alejandra blurted out. "That's a lot."

Mr. Foster nodded, his shoulders sinking. "I suppose it is, isn't it? It really is." He nodded again as though processing what she'd just said, pushing off the window and shuffling from foot to foot as though thinking before heading to the far end of the board table and seating himself at one of the chairs there. "That's kind of one of the problems with the sort of work Lux does, isn't it? You can treat symptoms but, what can we really do when the disease is out there right? When the problem is just... people's lives. We can't really cure Southside, can we?" He looked up at her, offering a tepid smile and a helpless shrug.

"I suppose not sir." Alejandra wasn't sure where the conversation was going, but she did relax then. As though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Mr. Foster looked down at the conference room table somberly, as though searching for answers in its polished surface. Then he looked up and smiled a smile of pearly white teeth as though a solution had just presented itself to him. It was this moment that Alejandra Escriva realized she was actually in the middle of a pitch meeting. "But... what if we could?"

Despite herself, despite the uncertainty of what was going on and her skepticism about this man, her boss, Alejandra felt the tuggings of a genuine, curious smile here. "I'm not sure I follow sir."

"I'm talking about making differences here. Instead of standing around, holding doors, filling glasses and running coffees - is that what you went to school for? No of course it wasn't."

Alejandra laughed here, having the sense that this private meeting had just taken a different, altogether sillier turn. "I'm still not sure I follow."

Mr. Foster sat on the edge of the boardroom table and checked his pocketwatch and grinned. "You know what, let's put a pin in this for now. My 8 o'clock is about to start."

Ms Escriva started to stand up.

"No no. Stick around. You might find this interesting." He said, leaning over the table to the teleconference interface and keying the intercom button. "Is my 8'o clock out there?"

The disembodied voice of his executive assistant, Mrs. Weathers rang back over the intercom. "He is sir."

"Send him in."

The man that entered was a very different contrast to Mr Foster. Alejandra realized as she stood at the man's entrance that she was actually taller than Mr Foster himself. 

Ryan Jackson was a different story. Well over six foot. Broad shouldered, barely chested. The man was practically poured into his suit. "Mr Foster." The two men shook hands, and with a nod from Mr Foster, Alejandra was obliged to do the same.

"This is Ms Escriva, she'll be auditing this meeting." Mr Foster declared.

"Is she cleared for this?"

"I cleared her." Mr Foster shot Alejandra an impish grin and gestured for them both to sit. "What news Ryan? Its been awhile."

"I just got out of a meeting with PRA's business liaison office. There's a couple of STG notices they handed out, I'd say these ones could be serious."

"What do you need from me Ryan?" Mr Foster spread his hands magnanimously as he seated himself last.

"For starters? A review of our site security contracts, and we need eyes on your boy Gideon."

"He's not really my boy."

"What he is is a problem. The PRA's flagging every corporate security rep in the region, Hollow's gearing up, they're concerned about corporate back-channels into Northside."

"Of course they are."

Jackson tossed a file of documents on the table in front of Foster. "The word terrorism is getting bandied about. My backchannels are telling me PRA's getting warnings from on high something going on."

Mr Foster glanced at the pages, his eyes skimming over them. "Troublesome."

"And that's not all." He set down another set of papers. "PRA's tracking reports of missing persons. Weird shit's making its way down from the mountains."

Mr. Foster looked at the new document briefly before sliding it back towards Jackson. "And that is precisely what I pay you to deal with. Look into it. Take the girl, show her the ropes."

Jackson's eyes fell upon Alejandra sitting, sheepishly across from him. "I don't need a partner."

Mr. Foster shrugged. "Well, I say: it is time that you do."

Jackson glanced at Alejandra again, and bit his lip. It was apparent there was some mental calculus going on there as to whether this was a battle worth fighting or not and from the way his shoulders slumped he decided, ultimately, it was not. "Fine. I'll show her around. I am not taking a partner, just so we're clear."

Mr. Foster removed the notice about Hollow from the pile of documents, leaving the rest for Jackson to retrieve. "Great! Southside can take care of itself - we need to be sure this isn't something else. In the mean time you can leave this on my desk. I'll deal with it." And Jackson could say anything further Mr Foster reached into his pocket and pulled out his pocket watch. "Regrettably, I have an 8:30, so let me know if you need anything. I have the utmost faith in both of you."

Abruptly the man stood up and headed towards the door pausing only briefly before he closed it behind himself. "Oh and Ms. Escriva. Congratulations on your promotion. We'll settle the paperwork when you get back."

Ryan Jackson and Alejandra Escriva both looked at one another just before the door closed, both wearing the same expression that wordlessly communicated the same message: what the hell just happened?

Wild Beasts of the Earth (Gothic Horror)

Rudy Rudeanu, Nelly Hacke, Nicola Hoffman

Cowritten by @Tesserach, [@Framining A Moose], Dyelli Beybi

---

Southside Cemetery

Amidst the cool, darkened streets of nightime in Munich, Rudeanu held the lantern from his right hand, his other lingering near his side. The man's breath could be seen rising from his lips as the crossed the threshold from where the Munich streetlights glowed warmly into the darkened recesses of the trees that covered Alter Südfriedhof. "Let's see what we find, shall we?" He slowly cast the lantern around, illuminating the darkened forms of trees, monuments and grave markers, his eyes scanning their surroundings, and occasionally sweeping into the treeline and shop or house windows that surrounded the cemetery.

Nicola stuck close to Rudy. She looked jumpy, glancing hurriedly between the shadows, "This place gives me the creeps," she muttered under her breath.

Nelly lingered behind the pair, her palm still pressed flat against her left eye as she held her knife in the other. Her uncovered eye flitted about as they passed by the rows of headstones, nothing of note jumping out of them right away - neither figuratively nor literally.

"Should check the fresher graves," she commented gruffly, before puckering her lips. "See if any of the victims could afford a plot."

"There is a mass grave around here somewhere," Nicola declared, before adding, as if feeling she needed to explain herself, "All the killings in the city recently. They needed to dig one to get the bodies off the street."

Rudy remained quiet, swinging his arm with the lantern dangling from it in slow arcs that set the shadows of gravestones shifting in the light. "Aha, what's this?" He paused eyes fixed on something which he approached. "Aha! Dead meat will bring out the hounds."

He slowly sank onto one knee, lowering his head and lantern until the object of his interest became clear. A pile of shit. "Dog spoor. Note the fur. It means this animal's been hunting prey. Gone feral." His tone was unequivocally triumphant.

"I'll take your word for it," Nicola clearly did not want to be examining dog crap abd kept back a few paces, "Feral dogs are nothing new in the Republic," she added, playing the skeptic for a change, "It's a big step up from eating rats to killing a human though."

"Something killed those people. If we're talking creatures capable of taking an adult human inside Munich, the options I see are a person and dogs. I've yet to read a penny dreadful about some sort of repeat killer eating their victims mind you..." He paused thoughtfully. "I suppose we should contact Tierpark Hellabrunn and see if they've had any animals escape. I hear they're in some financial difficulty."

"Maybe you should taste it, just t'be sure," Nelly responded to the magician, seemingly perturbed by the man's smug satisfaction - and the support his hypothesis had found in the excretive evidence before them. She turned her back to the pair as Rudy examined the dung, peering into the darkness, even uncovering her eye to let her pre-adjusted pupil see what her other eye couldn't. "Somethin' still don't feel right, though...f'its dogs, why're we the first ones to do something about it? Folk like me go missing, I understand, but prostitutes...some've them must've had handlers, no?"

Rudy glanced over his shoulder at Nelly looking unamused, but he said nothing. He stood up instead, dusting his gloved hands together and adjusting his capelet over his shoulders. "Maybe they did. It's worth checking." He said to Nelly, a touch curtly as eyes surveyed the dimly lit windows occasionally visible through the sparsely leaved trees. "Good vantage points up and down the avenue too. Someone might've seen something. Maybe we can even find a room with a view to setup in. In the meantime, I figure we set bait around here." He gestured around the cemetery. "Good confirmation would be if any of the feral dogs we catch turn up with human flesh in their stomachs. Then I'd look at some of those 'handlers'. Or maybe there's something else connecting our victims we're unaware of. We rule those out, then - [i]maybe/i] we can start considering extraordinary possibilities that might actually involve Nachtewache."

Nicola raised an eyebrow in the darkness, "All that means is the dog fed on a body," she said, "People are left dead in the streets all the time. Would that be a surprise? Are we going to start saying everything the Freikorps or the Communists do was the work of dogs now as well?" she proposed before turning to Nelly, "I would assume the reason we know about these disappearances is because they have handlers or friends. But the police have armed thugs shooting up the city to deal with. A repeat killer would be able to operate undisturbed for the most part," she drew her coat about her as she finished, as if the thought made her feel a little colder.

"True, but we work with the evidence we have. Reports of bodies mauled by wild dogs - our mystery was that no dogs were sighted. But here's actual evidence they're here. Until we find bloody footprints, knife wounds or bullet casings there's no reason we should even be considering Freikorps, much less... repeat killers. If it's not dogs, the evidence will point the way." Rudy waived his free hand as though repeat killers were as outlandish an idea as supernatural creatures while picking his steps around the grave markers, taking care not to step on the graves themselves. "I would be curious to know who reported this and how Nachtewache became involved though. So far it looks to me like The Watch is passing mundane occurrences off as supernatural events. Still, as the scots would say, the case is not yet proven."

And they moved off into the darkness.

Wild Beasts of the Earth (Gothic Horror)

Updated cowrites - including a good one between Nelly and Rudy I thought I'd put up AGES ago.

Wild Beasts of the Earth (Gothic Horror)

Reservation for cowrite, pending collation... that I accidentally posted later. D'oh

Recollections: Primal Sinister

Ioan M. Foster

Ioan M. Foster, a.k.a. Mr. Foster, a.k.a. The Devil of Southside

_______________________________________________ Ioan M. Foster He/Him | Age: 47 | Ethnicity: Southsider Mutt | Height: 5'5" | 135lbs. _______________________________________________ Ruthlessness _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "I have an offer for you that I think you'll find very interesting." ___________________________________ [+] CEO ⫻ Mr. Foster is an efficient manager and organizer - some might say manipulator - of people and money. He's the CEO and controlling shareholder of Metizo Felix and Foster Industries (MFF Industries). Ioan Foster is a prominent industrialist, philanthropist and leading citizen in Cloverfield, with interests in many of Cloverfield's businesses. MFF Industries specializes in energy and manufacturing. In short, the man commands wealth and resources. Mad Scientist ⫻ Foster is an engineer by training, and a self-declared scientist/inventor by disposition. Despite never actually completing a degree, it's well known that some of MFF Industries key innovations have come from his work alongside the employees of MFF Industries' secretive, and allegedly ethically challenged R&D Division. He is an extremely capable artificer things and processes. The Devil's Bargain ⫻ If you ask most people about his business they'd say he's an inventor, or perhaps a business magnate with diversified investments around Cloverfield. If you ask Foster himself, he'll say he's in the business of people. More specifically: making deals, trading favours. Foster's been around awhile - engineering things for people and he's owed a lot of 'favours' from people in both high and low places around the city.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Here boy, hang onto that. I used to shine shoes this same corner when I was your age. Now look at me? Not bad for a south side street rat eh?" Ioan isn't a physically imposing man. He's shorter and smaller than average. His physician tells him it's a result of nutrient deficiencies growing up and breathing air from the coal districts most of his life. He does, however, have presence. Sharp, angular features, a hawkish nose and possessed of an air of confidence. He's invariably seen in only in tailored suits, waistcoats, with polished shoes. Despite the deficiencies of his age, and well-known years of hard living at 47 he looks remarkably young, passing for a man in his early thirties. He's a ruddy complexion of mixed ethnicity, notable mostly for the old scars that mark his face, and a thick head of dark hair punctuated by a pair of shrewdly piercing blue eyes.

_{Psychology
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
”Nietzche said that men who stare over long into the abyss should beware, that The Abyss stares back into you. But let me tell you, I've stared into that abyss long and hard and the truth I saw was different.

It's not some darkness that comes from the outside, no. The darkness is always there, inside each of us, always has been and when we stare into the abyss, what we're really staring at is ourselves; the monsters without are reflections of those within.

And it's only by staring into that abyss that a person discovers who they truly are."

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Since he was young, Ioan felt driven. Driven to escape his circumstances. Driven to prove himself. Driven by innate curiousity of the world, people and forces within it. When he was young he understood the hunger he felt, but somewhere along too much somehow became never enough. A restless hunger that never leaves him alone. Cloverfield needs to rebuild and he's the man that knows how to rebuild it. There are threats to be identified, studied and managed. New projects and sources of power to be exploited. Deals to be made. Power begets power and Ioan always wants... more.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ The world is cold and dark, a never ending struggle that carries on until it too will, inevitably, be carried into the great abyss like everything else. Good and evil, these are stories people tell one another to keep society functioning - simplistic truisms reflecting only vaguely the barest necessities of the human condition in a universe that cares nothing for our simple wants and deeds.

And there are two types of people in the world. Those who understand this reality, that we are all already dead men walking and that if one isn't careful the blessings of the meek are simply lessons of the blind and that ruthlessness, in truth, is simply the act of having mercy upon ourselves. People judge what they do not understand, but the world has need of men like Ioan, those willing to do what's necessary, to sacrifice what's necessary, to keep the very darkest of shadows at bay.

And if the world ever truly forgets that lesson - and the time will inevitably come - that will be the moment that darkness finally wins, and life and light, are finally extinguished forever.

SECRETS ⫻ It's an open secret that the Devil of Southside has skeletons in his closet. In spite of his many, many critics, Mr. Foster actually takes great pains to stay uninvolved in criminality, despite a youth that occasionally overlapped with gangs and petty crime. If you asked him though, the most damning indictment of his alleged 'crimes' is that they're all perfectly legal with, a handful of forgettable (and some might even say commendable) exceptions.

There is one exception that is very much not forgettable. The story of the victory over Nyrah the Ravager is well known: a powerful attack by a powerful adept managed to finally hurt and stun Nyrah. Ioan was not the adept, of course. But did anyone stop to ask, how or why this adept was able to do what all the others could not? Or what happened to them?

Rumours abound of things locked away beneath MFF Industries R&D Building. And that perhaps things have been done there that perhaps should not have been. Rumours of people screwed over in business dealings with him, of not reading the fine print in their contracts. Rumours too that his relatively youthful appearance is, in someway. unnatural: that Foster meddles with beings and forces that, perhaps, ought not be meddled with.

It's rumours like these that earned him the nickname, The Devil of Southside.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Mr. Foster presents as a cis-het male, with a not very well known kink for dominant women, and has been known to frequent a few select establishments and has relations with a few dominatrix types down there.

FEARS ⫻ The End of All Things. Ioan, pointedly, does not fear his own death indeed, there are times he would welcome the release. But in Nyrah, he glimpsed not only his own death but the death of all things. An end to everything. An inevitability perhaps, but not one he intends to allow.

What he does fear is loss of control, and helplessness. These were feelings he experienced, acutely, as a child and young man and the thought of going back to that place is deeply troubling to him. All men die, and great works pass to the ages but the thought that he's been through the things he's been through and done the things he's done just to wind up back in the same place he started: he would do anything, and rather die than go back to that place and those feelings.

And while he doesn't admit it, he finds the idea that anything in this world, or any other, could be beyond his ability to understand... disconcerting.

WHAT DID THEY DO DURING THE CATACLYSM? ⫻ Ioan was already a public figure during the catacylsm and his role there is... frequently remarked upon. He was involved in the initial fight with Nyrah, and - along with many others - believed to have perished there, only to emerge afterwards, very much alive, but having made no further appearances during the cataclysm itself.

In truth, after nearly dying, he spent much of his time working in his bunker - not quite hiding as many assumed - but creating artifacts to support the work of other adepts. Despite his work in many ways being vital the the defence of the city, his role is basically uncredited and he himself doesn't speak of it. Giving vague responses that he 'supported' the fight.

FLAWS ⫻ There's very little actually holding Foster back these days, if anything this is the real problem. Unrestrained ambition and pride that he believes is well constrained by an meticulous, analytic mind. To Ioan M. Foster, there's no problem, force, or entity in the universe he can't overcome given enough time, resources and - of course - power.

_{Backstory
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"You see I was just a young man trying to survive, get through another day in hopes of reaching a place where every waking moment wasn't some life or death struggle just to breathe.

Until one day I woke up and realized there was only ever one path out for someone like me."

Iaon was born in the lower south side to a mother that engaged in prostitution to make ends meet and father he doesn't remember whose claims to fame were being a alcoholic steelworker, beating his wife and kid and whose primary redeeming feature was having the decency to get himself killed in a back alley behind a bar before Ioan had formed any real permanent memories of the guy.

Most people who knew him in his younger days remember a dirty, scrawny, bookish kid who was always keeping busy either reading or hustling. Worked odd jobs. Saved money. He did the gang shit too, but hell, every kid had to when you grew up in the sort of neighborhood even south siders knew to avoid; he learned the hard way the gangs would just send the older kids to beat the shit out of you if you didn't pay your dues. If they said rough some other kid up, you roughed 'em up. If they said you had to steal shit from a store, you stole the shit.

That's just how things were.

But Iaon studied. Took his books with him even when they were shaking kids down or working corners. Read every moment he could. Innate curiosity they called it. But more than that his mom kept him going, told him he was a gifted kid who could make something of himself. That maybe one day he'd get them both out of the southside.

And he was good at it. Got a scholarship - all expenses. Big name university for mechanical engineering. For a time it looked like he really could escape the south side.

But the south side wasn't done with Iaon Foster. It wouldn't ever be done.

Third year at school, Iaon's mom died of a terminal condition she hadn't told her son about. Preventable too, but she hadn't had a doctor and she didn't have healthcare coverage for it through her work. It was the sort of shit happens every day southside. Iaon fell into a serious bout of depression, his grades slipped and the school pulled his scholarship, his second last semester he was trying to finish his coursework while couch surfing and living on the street but eventually he was forced to drop out.

Ioan doesn't talk much about those days, but his early 20's were lost years. He ended up back on the south side streets. The old gang. Drugs. You name it. It was this time, however, he experienced his Kindling-Event. He doesn't talk about what he saw. But it definitely changed him.

His first enterprise involved getting the lease on an old mill using money everyone assumed he borrowed from organized crime. By his 30's he'd leveraged his lux abilities into a reputation as an industry redefining inventor in the emerging magitech field, credited with a number of new inventions that maintained his operations at the forefront of the emerging magitech industry.

By the time he was 40, Iaon Foster's name was almost synonymous with Cloverfield industry itself. Despite impressive success, Foster resisted pushes by several subordinates and potential investors to off-shore operations, even when it hurt his bottom lines. At the same time, he'd gaine a reputation for many of his business practices and contracts being exploitative. Several research ethics scandals in their southside operations also resulted in prominent colleges and universities cutting ties with Foster and MFF Industries.

Despite these and other unsavoury reputations, Foster is one of the few people investing serious money into the south side, and has put a great portion of his fortune into rebuilding his operations in the south side; one of the few success stories to emerge south side since the cataclysm itself.

MFF Industries

Metizo Felix and Foster Industries was the brainchild of two men, Ioan Foster and Josiah Felix, who together started a company exploring commercial possibilities for artifact creation. Their initial work resulted in the patents for artifacts and process related to collective, storing and using lux energy for commercial-industrial application. Many of these are in very high demand in the outside world, though the 'magic' portion of their equipment is obscured behind industry secret and patent protection laws.

MFF have a number of interests, but it's best known for show-casing technology for zero-emission engines in the energy and automotive sectors, as well as several novel processes for low cost goods. Their engineering and R&D consulting departments have a reputation for producing bespoke novel solutions to engineering problems thought to be 'unsolveable' for high paying clients.

MFF has recently emerged as an innovator in the consumer market with mass-produced simple 'devices', sold under a variety of branded holding companies like "Lucky Charms", which sells their popular necklace accessories which can be attuned to things like keys or cellphones, allowing people to know where they are at all times.

Recently they've begun exploring higher consumer products on fee-for-service or single use disposable basis to rave applause by investors who strongly approve of the company's increased revenue figures.

Key sellers in this emerging market involve single-use consumables under the popular 'Artifact Energy' brand of snacks and drinks, known for their 'cool' 'luminescent' snacks and beverages. They've also begun exploring prospects of single use items for PRA use in dealing with supernatural threats.

Although many of these things, the non-consumable ones, could be made as permanent effects it requires less lux energy to produce the single use items, and it also ensures a steady revenue stream.

Other prominent MFF Industries initiatives:
Southside Interlink - an MFF sponsored non-profit that provides free wifi to Southside residents, one of the only perks to living southside while also serving as a tax write-off... and may also secretly harvest the emotional energy of Southside residents.
Southside Blood Services - another Southside outreach project, in which people donate blood and plasma for regional hospitals... and may more directly harvest the emotional energy of Southside residents.
Mr. Foster is very committed to the area and has also been known to help down on their luck individuals, with money or 'special' trinkets to help get back on their feet and has sponsored many successful local area businesses. Terms and conditions may apply, consult Mr. Foster for details, all contracts and deals are made on an as is basis, all deals are final, no refunds.

_{Abstraction
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"Oh my friend, there are endless wonders we could create for you, but you're asking all the wrong questions. What you need to ask is: how much are you prepared to sacrifice to make your dream reality."

TYPE ⫻ Adept

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Orange Lux - Artifact Engineering

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Iaon actually has no abilities to produce or wield lux energies per se himself. What he can do is work lux energies that exist in the world into artifacts. This is his lux ability, but his true specialization is in his ability to incorporate lux effects into mundane electro-mechanically engineered systems to create magitech.

LIMITS ⫻ Ioan requires not only his Channeler - necklace pendant of his mother he wears - but also tools, equipment and time to ply his craft and the enchantment must occur during the formation of the item itself.

Nothing comes of nothing and Iaon's ability actually requires him to have access to 'raw lux energies' themselves to do anything. For instance, to create an enchanted sword with fire, he would require not only the tools to forge a sword - but also some access to fire, or very strong destructive emotions or preferably both.

Iaon's creations are only as good as his materials. Crafting a magic lighter that produces a small flame? Easily done, with just some flame. Want something bigger or a permanent effect instead of a one off? Nothing comes from nothing. It's gonna need a power source.

None of the spell effects Ioan uses typically functional through an active emotional field. Nor can they be used to remove an adept's ability to use lux (though they might need to rest after getting the old juices sucked out). To be clear, they also cannot replicate someone's specific abstraction abilities.

Spells ⫻

Lux Fixation ⫻ This is the main ability Iaon possesses, fixing a source of lux energy into an object. This requires, as above, a source of both the lux effect, and a power source if the effect is going to be more than a one off deal.

Lux Distillation ⫻ This spell, cast into an object, allows that object to distill lux energy out of a source into some sort of container. For instance an artifact imbued with this ability might allow red lux energy to be distilled from an actual fire, or a source of intense, destructive emotions and transferring it into a suitable receptacle, and you wind up with fire in a bottle, or gem, or something else suitably cool.

Lux Transference ⫻ Allows the transference of lux from one source to another, can be seen as a sort of booster effect. The lux types must be compatible - i.e. blue lux energies can only be transferred to something also blue lux affiliated. Like distillation, this removes lux energy from the source effect and empowers the target(which must be a capable receptacle). This effect cannot be used to siphon energy from a lux user, but it can siphon energy from someone actively casting, and while it doesn't impact the spell, the user might feel a bit spent and require a rest before casting again.

Lux Transformation ⫻ A work around for the above, requires creation of a separate artifact. Imbues an object with the ability to act as a bridge, converting different forms of energy into another form: i.e. With some limitations, for instance, antithetical energies - transferring energy from hatred into calm for instance - has more of a cancellation effect. This is more an industrial spell application for when you've got 2.3 kilotons of blue lux energy and you say, need to power an artifact that takes green lux. This handy orange lux spell has your back!

WEAKNESSES ⫻

Lux Transference-Lux Transformation ⫻ Adepts can only be boosted by their own Lux type. If this spell is used to boost an adept, it will bring about a sickness fueled by the dominant lux of the adept. For example, Green Lux is typically associated with joy however when boosted this joy will be extreme. They will feel a sickening joy at everything and it will be intoxicating. This will be true for all lux types. Emotional Sickness will last for an hour after the spell ends, and will leave the adept feeling exhausted and find that their own joy is missing. As well, this spell can not penetrate emotional fields meaning that every adept must consent, and every adept can revoke that at any moment. Apparitions, with their stronger emotional fields, will be nearly impossible to crack unless he finds a way to remove or weaken it.

The All Hunger - Most artifacts just work. Permanently. For whatever reason those designed and built by Ioan Foster need to be fed in order to function. They can be one time use. They can be rechargeable but if they're constant use, they need a steady supply of fresh lux energy to keep them going.

Recollections: Primal Sinister

Ioan M. Foster

Ioan M. Foster, a.k.a. Mr. Foster, a.k.a. The Devil of Southside

_______________________________________________ Ioan M. Foster He/Him | Age: 47 | Ethnicity: Southsider Mutt | Height: 5'5" | 135lbs. _______________________________________________ Ruthlessness _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "I have an offer for you that I think you'll find very interesting." ___________________________________ [+] CEO ⫻ Mr. Foster is an efficient manager and organizer - some might say manipulator - of people and money. He's the CEO and controlling shareholder of Metizo Felix and Foster Industries (MFF Industries). Ioan Foster is a prominent industrialist, philanthropist and leading citizen in Cloverfield, with interests in many of Cloverfield's businesses. MFF Industries specializes in energy and manufacturing. In short, the man commands wealth and resources. Mad Scientist ⫻ Foster is an engineer by training, and a self-declared scientist/inventor by disposition. Despite never actually completing a degree, it's well known that some of MFF Industries key innovations have come from his work alongside the employees of MFF Industries' secretive, and allegedly ethically challenged R&D Division. He is an extremely capable artificer things and processes. The Devil's Bargain ⫻ If you ask most people about his business they'd say he's an inventor, or perhaps a business magnate with diversified investments around Cloverfield. If you ask Foster himself, he'll say he's in the business of people. More specifically: making deals, trading favours. Foster's been around awhile - engineering things for people and he's owed a lot of 'favours' from people in both high and low places around the city.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Here boy, hang onto that. I used to shine shoes this same corner when I was your age. Now look at me? Not bad for a south side street rat eh?" Ioan isn't a physically imposing man. He's shorter and smaller than average. His physician tells him it's a result of nutrient deficiencies growing up and breathing air from the coal districts most of his life. He does, however, have presence. Sharp, angular features, a hawkish nose and possessed of an air of confidence. He's invariably seen in only in tailored suits, waistcoats, with polished shoes. Despite the deficiencies of his age, and well-known years of hard living at 47 he looks remarkably young, passing for a man in his early thirties. He's a ruddy complexion of mixed ethnicity, notable mostly for the old scars that mark his face, and a thick head of dark hair punctuated by a pair of shrewdly piercing blue eyes.

_{Psychology
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
”Nietzche said that men who stare over long into the abyss should beware, that The Abyss stares back into you. But let me tell you, I've stared into that abyss long and hard and the truth I saw was different.

It's not some darkness that comes from the outside, no. The darkness is always there, inside each of us, always has been and when we stare into the abyss, what we're really staring at is ourselves; the monsters without are reflections of those within.

And it's only by staring into that abyss that a person discovers who they truly are."

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Since he was young, Ioan felt driven. Driven to escape his circumstances. Driven to prove himself. Driven by innate curiousity of the world, people and forces within it. When he was young he understood the hunger he felt, but somewhere along too much somehow became never enough. A restless hunger that never leaves him alone. Cloverfield needs to rebuild and he's the man that knows how to rebuild it. There are threats to be identified, studied and managed. New projects and sources of power to be exploited. Deals to be made. Power begets power and Ioan always wants... more.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ The world is cold and dark, a never ending struggle that carries on until it too will, inevitably, be carried into the great abyss like everything else. Good and evil, these are stories people tell one another to keep society functioning - simplistic truisms reflecting only vaguely the barest necessities of the human condition in a universe that cares nothing for our simple wants and deeds.

And there are two types of people in the world. Those who understand this reality, that we are all already dead men walking and that if one isn't careful the blessings of the meek are simply lessons of the blind and that ruthlessness, in truth, is simply the act of having mercy upon ourselves. People judge what they do not understand, but the world has need of men like Ioan, those willing to do what's necessary, to sacrifice what's necessary, to keep the very darkest of shadows at bay.

And if the world ever truly forgets that lesson - and the time will inevitably come - that will be the moment that darkness finally wins, and life and light, are finally extinguished forever.

SECRETS ⫻ It's an open secret that the Devil of Southside has skeletons in his closet. In spite of his many, many critics, Mr. Foster actually takes great pains to stay uninvolved in criminality, despite a youth that occasionally overlapped with gangs and petty crime. If you asked him though, the most damning indictment of his alleged 'crimes' is that they're all perfectly legal with, a handful of forgettable (and some might even say commendable) exceptions.

There is one exception that is very much not forgettable. The story of the victory over Nyrah the Ravager is well known: a powerful attack by a powerful adept managed to finally hurt and stun Nyrah. Ioan was not the adept, of course. But did anyone stop to ask, how or why this adept was able to do what all the others could not? Or what happened to them?

Rumours abound of things locked away beneath MFF Industries R&D Building. And that perhaps things have been done there that perhaps should not have been. Rumours of people screwed over in business dealings with him, of not reading the fine print in their contracts. Rumours too that his relatively youthful appearance is, in someway. unnatural: that Foster meddles with beings and forces that, perhaps, ought not be meddled with.

It's rumours like these that earned him the nickname, The Devil of Southside.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Mr. Foster presents as a cis-het male, with a not very well known kink for dominant women, and has been known to frequent a few select establishments and has relations with a few dominatrix types down there.

FEARS ⫻ The End of All Things. Ioan, pointedly, does not fear his own death indeed, there are times he would welcome the release. But in Nyrah, he glimpsed not only his own death but the death of all things. An end to everything. An inevitability perhaps, but not one he intends to allow.

What he does fear is loss of control, and helplessness. These were feelings he experienced, acutely, as a child and young man and the thought of going back to that place is deeply troubling to him. All men die, and great works pass to the ages but the thought that he's been through the things he's been through and done the things he's done just to wind up back in the same place he started: he would do anything, and rather die than go back to that place and those feelings.

And while he doesn't admit it, he finds the idea that anything in this world, or any other, could be beyond his ability to understand... disconcerting.

WHAT DID THEY DO DURING THE CATACLYSM? ⫻ Ioan was already a public figure during the catacylsm and his role there is... frequently remarked upon. He was involved in the initial fight with Nyrah, and - along with many others - believed to have perished there, only to emerge afterwards, very much alive, but having made no further appearances during the cataclysm itself.

In truth, after nearly dying, he spent much of his time working in his bunker - not quite hiding as many assumed - but creating artifacts to support the work of other adepts. Despite his work in many ways being vital the the defence of the city, his role is basically uncredited and he himself doesn't speak of it. Giving vague responses that he 'supported' the fight.

FLAWS ⫻ There's very little actually holding Foster back these days, if anything this is the real problem. Unrestrained ambition and pride that he believes is well constrained by an meticulous, analytic mind. To Ioan M. Foster, there's no problem, force, or entity in the universe he can't overcome given enough time, resources and - of course - power.

_{Backstory
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"You see I was just a young man trying to survive, get through another day in hopes of reaching a place where every waking moment wasn't some life or death struggle just to breathe.

Until one day I woke up and realized there was only ever one path out for someone like me."

Iaon was born in the lower south side to a mother that engaged in prostitution to make ends meet and father he doesn't remember whose claims to fame were being a alcoholic steelworker, beating his wife and kid and whose primary redeeming feature was having the decency to get himself killed in a back alley behind a bar before Ioan had formed any real permanent memories of the guy.

Most people who knew him in his younger days remember a dirty, scrawny, bookish kid who was always keeping busy either reading or hustling. Worked odd jobs. Saved money. He did the gang shit too, but hell, every kid had to when you grew up in the sort of neighborhood even south siders knew to avoid; he learned the hard way the gangs would just send the older kids to beat the shit out of you if you didn't pay your dues. If they said rough some other kid up, you roughed 'em up. If they said you had to steal shit from a store, you stole the shit.

That's just how things were.

But Iaon studied. Took his books with him even when they were shaking kids down or working corners. Read every moment he could. Innate curiosity they called it. But more than that his mom kept him going, told him he was a gifted kid who could make something of himself. That maybe one day he'd get them both out of the southside.

And he was good at it. Got a scholarship - all expenses. Big name university for mechanical engineering. For a time it looked like he really could escape the south side.

But the south side wasn't done with Iaon Foster. It wouldn't ever be done.

Third year at school, Iaon's mom died of a terminal condition she hadn't told her son about. Preventable too, but she hadn't had a doctor and she didn't have healthcare coverage for it through her work. It was the sort of shit happens every day southside. Iaon fell into a serious bout of depression, his grades slipped and the school pulled his scholarship, his second last semester he was trying to finish his coursework while couch surfing and living on the street but eventually he was forced to drop out.

Ioan doesn't talk much about those days, but his early 20's were lost years. He ended up back on the south side streets. The old gang. Drugs. You name it. It was this time, however, he experienced his Kindling-Event. He doesn't talk about what he saw. But it definitely changed him.

His first enterprise involved getting the lease on an old mill using money everyone assumed he borrowed from organized crime. By his 30's he'd leveraged his lux abilities into a reputation as an industry redefining inventor in the emerging magitech field, credited with a number of new inventions that maintained his operations at the forefront of the emerging magitech industry.

By the time he was 40, Iaon Foster's name was almost synonymous with Cloverfield industry itself. Despite impressive success, Foster resisted pushes by several subordinates and potential investors to off-shore operations, even when it hurt his bottom lines. At the same time, he'd gaine a reputation for many of his business practices and contracts being exploitative. Several research ethics scandals in their southside operations also resulted in prominent colleges and universities cutting ties with Foster and MFF Industries.

Despite these and other unsavoury reputations, Foster is one of the few people investing serious money into the south side, and has put a great portion of his fortune into rebuilding his operations in the south side; one of the few success stories to emerge south side since the cataclysm itself.

MFF Industries

Metizo Felix and Foster Industries was the brainchild of two men, Ioan Foster and Josiah Felix, who together started a company exploring commercial possibilities for artifact creation. Their initial work resulted in the patents for artifacts and process related to collective, storing and using lux energy for commercial-industrial application. Many of these are in very high demand in the outside world, though the 'magic' portion of their equipment is obscured behind industry secret and patent protection laws.

MFF have a number of interests, but it's best known for show-casing technology for zero-emission engines in the energy and automotive sectors, as well as several novel processes for low cost goods. Their engineering and R&D consulting departments have a reputation for producing bespoke novel solutions to engineering problems thought to be 'unsolveable' for high paying clients.

MFF has recently emerged as an innovator in the consumer market with mass-produced simple 'devices', sold under a variety of branded holding companies like "Lucky Charms", which sells their popular necklace accessories which can be attuned to things like keys or cellphones, allowing people to know where they are at all times.

Recently they've begun exploring higher consumer products on fee-for-service or single use disposable basis to rave applause by investors who strongly approve of the company's increased revenue figures.

Key sellers in this emerging market involve single-use consumables under the popular 'Artifact Energy' brand of snacks and drinks, known for their 'cool' 'luminescent' snacks and beverages. They've also begun exploring prospects of single use items for PRA use in dealing with supernatural threats.

Although many of these things, the non-consumable ones, could be made as permanent effects it requires less lux energy to produce the single use items, and it also ensures a steady revenue stream.

Other prominent MFF Industries initiatives:
Southside Interlink - an MFF sponsored non-profit that provides free wifi to Southside residents, one of the only perks to living southside while also serving as a tax write-off... and may also secretly harvest the emotional energy of Southside residents.
Southside Blood Services - another Southside outreach project, in which people donate blood and plasma for regional hospitals... and may more directly harvest the emotional energy of Southside residents.
Mr. Foster is very committed to the area and has also been known to help down on their luck individuals, with money or 'special' trinkets to help get back on their feet and has sponsored many successful local area businesses. Terms and conditions may apply, consult Mr. Foster for details, all contracts and deals are made on an as is basis, all deals are final, no refunds.

_{Abstraction
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"Oh my friend, there are endless wonders we could create for you, but you're asking all the wrong questions. What you need to ask is: how much are you prepared to sacrifice to make your dream reality."

TYPE ⫻ Adept

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Orange Lux - Artifact Engineering

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Iaon actually has no abilities to produce or wield lux energies per se himself. What he can do is work lux energies that exist in the world into artifacts. This is his lux ability, but his true specialization is in his ability to incorporate lux effects into mundane electro-mechanically engineered systems to create magitech.

LIMITS ⫻ Ioan requires not only his Channeler - necklace pendant of his mother he wears - but also tools, equipment and time to ply his craft and the enchantment must occur during the formation of the item itself.

Nothing comes of nothing and Iaon's ability actually requires him to have access to 'raw lux energies' themselves to do anything. For instance, to create an enchanted sword with fire, he would require not only the tools to forge a sword - but also some access to fire, or very strong destructive emotions or preferably both.

Iaon's creations are only as good as his materials. Crafting a magic lighter that produces a small flame? Easily done, with just some flame. Want something bigger or a permanent effect instead of a one off? Nothing comes from nothing. It's gonna need a power source.

None of the spell effects Ioan uses typically functional through an active emotional field. Nor can they be used to remove an adept's ability to use lux (though they might need to rest after getting the old juices sucked out). To be clear, they also cannot replicate someone's specific abstraction abilities.

Spells ⫻

Lux Fixation ⫻ This is the main ability Iaon possesses, fixing a source of lux energy into an object. This requires, as above, a source of both the lux effect, and a power source if the effect is going to be more than a one off deal.

Lux Distillation ⫻ This spell, cast into an object, allows that object to distill lux energy out of a source into some sort of container. For instance an artifact imbued with this ability might allow red lux energy to be distilled from an actual fire, or a source of intense, destructive emotions and transferring it into a suitable receptacle, and you wind up with fire in a bottle, or gem, or something else suitably cool.

Lux Transference ⫻ Allows the transference of lux from one source to another, can be seen as a sort of booster effect. The lux types must be compatible - i.e. blue lux energies can only be transferred to something also blue lux affiliated. Like distillation, this removes lux energy from the source effect and empowers the target(which must be a capable receptacle). This effect cannot be used to siphon energy from a lux user, but it can siphon energy from someone actively casting, and while it doesn't impact the spell, the user might feel a bit spent and require a rest before casting again.

Lux Transformation ⫻ A work around for the above, requires creation of a separate artifact. Imbues an object with the ability to act as a bridge, converting different forms of energy into another form: i.e. With some limitations, for instance, antithetical energies - transferring energy from hatred into calm for instance - has more of a cancellation effect. This is more an industrial spell application for when you've got 2.3 kilotons of blue lux energy and you say, need to power an artifact that takes green lux. This handy orange lux spell has your back!

WEAKNESSES ⫻

Lux Transference-Lux Transformation ⫻ Adepts can only be boosted by their own Lux type. If this spell is used to boost an adept, it will bring about a sickness fueled by the dominant lux of the adept. For example, Green Lux is typically associated with joy however when boosted this joy will be extreme. They will feel a sickening joy at everything and it will be intoxicating. This will be true for all lux types. Emotional Sickness will last for an hour after the spell ends, and will leave the adept feeling exhausted and find that their own joy is missing. As well, this spell can not penetrate emotional fields meaning that every adept must consent, and every adept can revoke that at any moment. Apparitions, with their stronger emotional fields, will be nearly impossible to crack unless he finds a way to remove or weaken it.

The All Hunger - Most artifacts just work. Permanently. For whatever reason those designed and built by Ioan Foster need to be fed in order to function. They can be one time use. They can be rechargeable but if they're constant use, they need a steady supply of fresh lux energy to keep them going.

MFF Industries Powerplant

MFF Industries Power Plant.
............................................................ "The blazing heart of Cloverfield."	The original MFF powerstation at the same location was originally destroyed during the cataclysm, but was restored to limited operations soon afterward, running on a single of the station's reactors. Plans are underway to add additional capacity and reconnect to the statewide grid, in the meantime despite being located in south side, most of the power generated is sold north side. This also functions as the headquarters for MFF Industries, with its R&D Division maintaining extensive, secure underground facilities beneath the outbuildings.

Example Artifact, MFF Industries Reactor #5

MFF Industries Reactor #5
[hr.]| Bringing Light to Our City | "A marvel of modern technology."[hr.]ORIGINS & CREATIONS: | Created by Ioan Foster and MFF Industries R&D Department to showcase MFF Industries ability to deliver cheap, green, reliable energy on demand | TYPE: | Power | LOCATION: | Southside, Underneath the MFF Industries Powerplant | NOTABLE OWNERS: | Majority Shareholder, Ioan Foster | ABSTRACTION-GRANTING: | No - but it does produce electricity | .............................................................................	Damage to the plant, certainly above ground, during the cataclysm was near total, leaving the experimental reactor #5 as the only undamaged generation station still operable. Allowing MFF to quickly restore power. More than a year later, debris clearance and reconstruction of the previous sections of the plant are still ongoing. Despite being located Southside, much of the plant's available power is actually sold to the north-side by the city's distribution grid. MFF Industries have promised to restore reliable power Southside as new natural gas facilities are installed. When asked why another reactor like #5 is not constructed, Ioan Foster cites cost issues. In truth, the cost he's citing has nothing to do with with dollars and the design details and process of reactor #5's construction are closely guarded secrets. In the meantime, Cloverfield this one reactor is responsible for powering virtually the entire city. What fuels it? Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to.

Recollections: Primal Sinister

Contemplating a character concept for an orange lux industrialist character that runs a business providing mad magitech artifact services to select clients for fun and profit - but mostly power. Delicious delicious abstraction power.

It's unclear from my reading how this would actually work, or whether you actually want a mad scientist/engineer going around enchanting artifacts in his artifactory or however enchanting works in setting.