IC: Underworld, SR Style, In Character thread for Underworld Options

[BishopMcQ]

Handing a few euros over to the cabbie, Rhys thanked him and slid his bags out of the backseat.

He checks in to the hotel, takes the key and goes to his room. The archaic charm sets him at ease. Drawing a small basin full of water to set on the counter, Rhys glances at his reflection in the water.

Dipping his hands into the water, he freshens up. The water washes across his face. Each droplet pulls away a piece of self-control until once again Twilight looks into the basin. Each ripple distorts the reflection, no piece clear.

He pulls out his large coat and unzips his tote bag. When the Court spoke, danger would be near. Sliding knives into the bandoleer sewn along the inner left panel of the coat, the patchwork man sighs quietly to himself and extends his mind and senses. On the right, the small extendable batons slid into hidden pockets.

For a meeting with the Lower Council, it would be unseemly to bring in anything heavier.

When it was time, he slid into the snug fitting armor and his black jumpsuit. Settling his coat over his shoulders, Twilight poured the basin of water back into the sink and set out. Walking through the streets would help him re-establish a link to the Old World.

[Buddha72]

A strong sense of unease settles over her as she deciphers the coins before her. While the business of the Low Council was often perilous, it rarely exploded into violence and death yet there was something here in this reading. A danger she did not see yet or may not before it was too late. Sighing heavily, she returns the coins and their bag to its proper resting place.

Moving to the bed, she begins to shed the layers of silk and robes while pondering the configuration of the coins. Sensing the stirring of deeper currents in the world around her, her skin prickles and a shiver moves across her skin.

Old things are moving into the city, dark things from ages past.

The thought drives sleep from her bones as she lies back into the bed, drawing the blankets around her taking comfort from their flase promise of safety and security. She silents prays that the coming darkness will pass her by and spare humanity. There was little there could do before such a dark tide. She will rise in the morning, dress accordingly and attend the gathering. Hopefully, she was wise enough to see the signs in enough time to divert any lasting harm. With that she falls into a light and fitful sleep.

A small child moves into the room, only after she was certain Minako was asleep, from a smalladjacent room. Her features spoke of a blood relation to the sleeping woman either a grandchild or perhaps a young cousin. She moves to put her discarded garmets away properly, clucking under her breath at her usual disregard for order and decorum. As soon as the door closed, this world was the only one for her it seemed. Moving to the closet, she begins to lay out tomorrow's attire. Layer by layer is arranged and few choice pieces of jewelery left out as suggestions to compliment the clothing selected. After a moment's thought, the young girl removes a long thin wood box from the back of the closet. She opens the box to look over the sleeves inside. Satisfied she closes the box and lays it near the clothes. One last look around, she moves to the entryway to turn off the lights.

The room is swallowed up by the night and the sound of the rain.

[Whizbang]

Novel and unique. Someone with chips from Adam to be called in was forming up an op, and Kook hadn't heard about it. Nothing like a challenge to get the decker going. "I'd appreciate if you'd look into it. Depending on the terms of agreement, I might be able to tell you about my end."

[Fortune]

"Nomad!"

Jason strides forward and clasps the chubby elf's hand.

"Looking good. You're a fair way from home, but it's great to see you again."

Admiring the large, ugly aircraft that the rigger is so obviously proud of, Jason nods in approval, his wide smile carefully concealing the momentary feelings of trepidation at the thought of flying in the monstrous vehicle, especially with a thrillseeker like Nomad at the helm.

The golden-haired elf climbs aboard, following the rigger's instructions as he straps himself in for what should, if the size of those turbines is any indication, prove to be a fairly short flight.

[Bearclaw]

Freddie awakens at 3pm on his own. He doesn't open his eyes until his ears and nose tell him he's alone. Until he knows why he's here, he prefers to stay that way. If he's here to kill, it's better that no one who knows him can place him here. He's just another face in the crowd. One of many near-by just another death in the night.
After stretching out and cleaning up, he finishes the last of the meat, and drops the bag in the incinerator.
Time to get ready.
He stands in front of the mirror and concentrates for a moment and with a sudden ripple, the 2 meter, bald, lanky, naked man is replaced with an image of Stevie Nicks in full Rhianon attire, lacy shawl and all. Another moment of concentration and he hands over the sustaining of the spell to the silver ring on his right hand.
He casts another, and he floats off the floor. A wrinkle of his now unlined brow, and he settles back down. This spell he pushes off to the St. Christopher's medal around his neck.
How nice, monster to Goddess in 3 minutes flat.
Getting into his regular business meeting clothes, form fitting body armor, Brooks Brothers suit, Mortimer Great coat, Charcol Fedorah and black wrap around sunglasses would be disconcerting without previous practice, as the clothes disappeared below the illusion when he put them on. Those whom he was meeting with would most likely see right through the disguise, but to the Blind he would be just another beautiful, eccentric woman in a city filled with beautiful, eccentric women.
By the time he's ready, it's only four. About an hour to sundown.
Time for Stevie to get a drink, and maybe some steak tartare before I head off to the meet.
Stevie floats from the room, her feet barely touching the floor.

[Fenris]

Freddie - The weight of hundreds of years of history settles on your shoulders as you move out into the city. The Blind are laughing, joking, smiling, moving about their day, oblivious to the presence of a monster among them. It's still daylight when you leave the hotel, but the masking spell does an excellent job of concealing the constant irritation on your features at the brightness of the light.

Twilight - The location is situated on the corner of a block of buildings, all at least two stories tall, some of them taller. It, like the buildings around it, looks done in an architectural style that went out of vogue some centuries ago. The Blind come, the Blind go, and at least one of them, a young woman walking with her date, who isn't Blind, probably won't be around tomorrow. You sense at least one thing that moves unseen, gliding through your sense like an invisible fog, pausing for a moment in front of the door of your meet location before abruptly passing beyond your ability to track. At the same moment, hear the creak and the soft click of a door opening and closing, although the door you can see remains closed.

A short while after you arrive and begin your watch, a slim woman joins you in your vigil, apparently staking out the same location. She does an excellent job of being unobtrusive, however, and you're positive that the majority of the people moving by even a few feet away from her are unaware of her presence.

Nevermore - The location itself is unremarkable, boasting no more space then a local shopkeep along the street, a mere two stories tall. The tight cofiguration assures that every building is pressed closed to it's neighbor, inevitably sharing a wall.

By the time you arrive, there is already another watcher. He, like you, seems to move very unobtrusively through the crowds, untouched and somewhat seperate, and carries himself much unlike one of the Blind.

The only interesting occurence over the course of your observation is the sound of footsteps moving up to the door you're watching, and the sounds of a door opening and closing, although the only door you can see appears to remain solidly closed.

Walker - You feel/hear the soft mental echo that is Echo's affirmative reply. The trip takes a little more then 6 hours, but you've plenty of time before the meet once you touch down at the tiny airfield a few miles from the city itself.

Fortune - As the elf slides into the pilots seat directly in front of you, he calls back over his shoulder, "You know, I've made some tweaks to the engine, and I'm betting I can do 4!" Your trepidation does not ease at these words, and the small, studdy craft noses out of the hanger and onto the tarmac. You can still hear the tower giving him clearance over the radio as Nomad punches the throttle and the craft shoots forward, like a barely restrained animal on a thin leash. Seconds after you start moving you're airborne, with a long, looping roll as he re-orients the craft, and the craft continues to accelerate. He begins to climb as well, the nose of the craft rising above the horizon as you jet into the sky. The trip is over in a little less then 2 hours, the long arc of your trajectory not technically taking you into sub-orbit, according to Nomad, but pretty damn close. You here a whoop sometime during the descent as your pilot continues to accelerate almost to the very end of the flight. You might surmise he managed to break some record he was holding for himself, but your brain, along with the rest of your internal organs, is in questionable condition after pulling several g's that long.

Will Davis - You can almost hear Kook nodding. "I'll start pulling the records and cross-referencing the missings spots with whatever else I can get ahold of. Probably won't have any worthwhile for a day or two, but I'll call you then.

Minako - The day dawns pale and grey, similar to many a morning in this old world city. Your tasks and the portents for them lay before you, options opening and closing with the movement and the flow of karma, twisting as it collects the disparate threads of living into the complexly woven tapestry of life.

[Cedric Rolfsson]

Walker takes the time to drop off his few items at his hotel, and clean up before the meeting. When its time to leave he pulls on some of the thick armored clothing that was his normal wear and then his SecureTech Ultravest. The only weapons he carries are the tomahawk and long knife he'd spent so long creating, which fit into the custom sheathes under the back of his vest. A little ackward to draw, at least they weren't in plain view for the public to see. Anyone seriously looking would see them easily enough but he hated it when people in the streets began running away when he went out for a stroll.

Prepared, he heads for the meeting.

[caramel frappucc...]

Half an hour after his arrival in the city of Prague, Izzy finds himself in the lobby of a three star hotel with modest furnishings. He strides up to the elven concierge with a friendly smile on his face and slides his credstick across the counter. The elf scans the credstick and verifies its contents with remarkable alacrity before handing the device back to Izzy.

"Welcome to the Wharton Hotel, Mr. McManus. May I inquire as to how long you will be staying with us?" the concierge asks, his voice tinged with a soft Russian accent.

"Please put me down for two days," Izzy replies.

"Done. If you have any questions or necessities, please do not hesitate to ask for our help. I hope you enjoy your stay."

"Thank you, my good man. I'm sure I will."

Once in his room, Izzy dumps his luggage into the closet and grabs himself a seat on a recliner. A quick glance at the electronic clock by the lamp desk tells him that he still has two hours to spare before the scheduled time for the meet. Izzy takes a minute to consider his next move. Upon reaching a decision, he snaps his fingers and three spectral forms slowly apparate in the air in front of him. Connoisseurs of old twentieth century films will recognize the trio to be the infamous long-deceased actors: Moe Howard, Curly Howard, and Larry Fine.

"What's up, boss?" they chant in unison.

"Okay, stooges," Izzy says. "We have another mission before us, and my gut thinks that this one is going to be a whammy. I'm just summoning you guys to tell you to be on your toes. Keep a vigilant watch, and be sure to inform Lyra of anything unusual that you find. When in doubt, report. Remember what I've taught you. If you miss anything, you can forget about attending your beloved strip clubs for a month."

"Got it, boss!"

"We're on it, captain!"

"They're called gentlemen's clubs, sir!"

"Dismissed!" Izzy commands.

Cackling madly with glee, the three spirits take off in separate directions, vanishing as they disappear through the walls.

"I don't know why you even bother keeping those idiots around. How can you trust them?"

Izzy looks over to the bed and discovers that his sister has finally decided to show up. He responds, "They're good at their job, despite what initial impressions may betray. You've seen the suckers in action."

Lyra shrugs and starts pulling on clothes, mixing and matching different garments to create outrageously eccentric outfits that would immediately give any fashion-conscious individual a fatal heart attack upon first sight. Izzy politely turns aside and starts thumbing through a tourist magazine that was left on the desk by the previous occupant of the room. When Lyra has at last decided upon an outfit, she bounces off the bed and kneels down besides Izzy. Izzy tosses the magazine aside and takes her hand, looking her in the eyes.

"What I told the stooges was true. I have an uneasy feeling about this job that I can't quite place. It will undoubtedly contain many risks, and those who walk in may not walk back out. You are not obligated to tread the same path as I - I just want you to know that."

"I know," Lyra says firmly. "I'm with you."

Izzy nods. "I'm going to drop by the place of the meet to give it a quick astral once over to check for any anomalies. Stay here to watch my body."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

Izzy grins. "I'll be fine."

One second the young magician is wide awake and alert, and the next he's slumped over, his eyes closed and his mind robbed of its sensitivities to the world outside his body. Lyra throws one of his arms over her shoulders and hauls him to the bed, gently placing him down. She climbs up to take a seat beside his unconscious body, grabs the remote control for the flatscreen trideo, and starts flipping through channels.

---

Izzy opens his eyes to the astral plane and takes flight.

[Whizbang]

"Well, assuming I haven't walked into a trap by then, I'll be looking forward to hearing your report. But let's not be negative. Hopefully I'll have a couple more pieces of the puzzle for you by the time you call back. Catch you later." Winding up his call with Kook, Will headed out to catch his charter flight. Boring wasn't going to be an adjective applied to this trip.

[Fortune]

Jason was very pleased that the flight, short though it might have been, was finally over. He remained sitting in the cramped aircraft seat for several minutes after it had come to a stop, just to make sure that he still maintained control of his own body.

After several minutes, the elf gingerly extracts himself from the vehicle, grinning to the pudgy, purple-mohawked rigger who was just pulling his bag from its compartment.

"Nice ride Nomad! I take it you actually made 4."

[Fenris]

Will Davis - The flight is nice, first class thankfully, and the stewardess, a pert, brunette elf that seems much taken with your somewhat hardened appearance, adds a card with her LTG to your last drink. The city is much as you remember it, Old World style still presiding, with just the occasional glint of steel and glass to remind one that you're in the 21st century.

Fortune - "You know it, abbil. I knew it could, what'd I tell you?" He pats the side of the machine adoringly as you collect your bags.

[caramel frappucc...]

Izzy withdraws his consciousness back into his body at the hotel and opens his eyes. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he heads to his duffel bag, unzips it, and begins pulling out articles.

"What did you see?" Lyra inquires.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," the slender young man says over his shoulder, stringing up a sash of coins to his waist. "Two people, a man and a woman, have already established a watch over the place, but I don't think that they're enemies. Both are apparently mundane, but I wouldn't discount the possibility that they've got the talent - if they do, they're at least as good as I am. Or, as the case may possibly be, better than I am."

Throwing a cloak over his shoulders, he turns around and grins, his eyes twinkling with the promise of adventure. "This ought to be interesting. Let's go."

Five minutes finds Izzy gliding out towards his destination in the form of a falcon, sailing the thermals with an unlikely dragonfly hitching a ride on his back.

[Whizbang]

Will pocketed the card with a subtle nod to the woman. She was fairly attractive, though being an elf, it tended to come with the package. Even ugly elves tended to come off as descent. And unlike some Hunters, he could accept that most elves were just as descent as your average joe. Unlike the ancient ones who had been at the game of power for longer than he cared to think about.

Deciding not to think about it, he instead focused on the task ahead. If he found any spare time in between, mabey then he could think about looking up the stewardess. First things first, he collected his bags and hopped a cab to a hotel he had frequented before. Nothing high class, but still had a bit of a homey feel to it. He wondered if he'd be seeing much of it during his stay.

Having found a home for his luggage, Will found himself once more on the move. Sooner or later he'd find some time to catch some sleep. But for now he needed to get a look at the meet sight. And whoever else might be deciding to scope it out as well.

[BishopMcQ]

Twilight takes his concentration away from the scene at hand and thinks as he begins to walk away.

The only way an entity could be mundane without a physical body would be to have a projection of the spirit manifest in such a place. That meant a mage was involved, one powerful enough to travel through the city and tempt the Lower Council by his presence but not strike out. Perhaps the answer would be more apparent later, for now there was at least one invisible entity, cloaked in illusion or more powerful works.

The skin color smooths out enough so as to not raise suspicions, slowly blending as he walks down an alleyway between buildings. Stepping out in to the next boulevard, the elf heads for a nearby street cafe. It takes some convincing, but soon he is walking back toward the meet site with two moderately sized coffees.

He sits down on the steps of a nearby building, and sips his coffee. Nonchalantly, he raises the other cup in an offer to the mysterious figure in the expensive car.

[Buddha72]

The smell of fresh tea pushes its way through her groggy thoughts as Minako claws her way to awake. The dim light of the dawn washes the room in subdued tones as she tosses back the comforter and makes her way to the small tea service. Picking up the small cup, she sips as she looks over the clothes laid out for today. With a faint smile, she looks over the jewelery laid out, selecting a set that matches her mood. Placing the other pieces back away, she takes a seat and grimaces at the sight of her ruined make up from the day before. That would teach her not to take the extra time before stumbling into bed.

Opening a few drawers she begins the task of removing the make up and preparing her face for a new application today. She goes over her daytime plans while doing it. A quick stop at the market, visit a few friends and then home to change for the meeting tonight. She makes a mental note to call a car service today to make arrangements for this evening. The uncertainity of taxis would have to wait for a night when she had more time to waste. Taking one last look at her face and satisified with what she sees, she turns and moves back to the small table. Grimacing at the sight of the breakfast pastries, she moves them aside and removes several small boxs from underneath the table. Removing the lids, she gingerly withdraws several aged scrolls. Her face lights up at the sight of them as she carefully unrolls them and begins to read over them.

Time passes......

Stepping from the car, she takes a look around and turns to the driver, words are exchanged, and the car drives off. She takes a position at the address she hopes appears casual, well as casual as she could.

[Bearclaw]

Freddie smiles. It's been a while since I've worn Stevie. She appears to be a popular choice. I wonder if any of these even recognize her. Well, maybe some one will this evening. No telling who you'll meet at an Undercouncil meeting. He smiles, remembering the night in London when he met the woman he was sure Stevie was singing about. Luckily, I was wearing Robert Plant that evening.
As he nears his destination, he considers masking his aura, but decides not to. The power of some of these undercouncil members was near godlike, and there was no point in making himself look silly.
Flowing with the crowds, he makes two passes in front of the door. Enough to let other watchers know he's not trying to hide. He finds a seat at a sidewalk caffee a block up the street, orders a cappuccino, and waits.

[BishopMcQ]

Murmuring under his breath as Freddie passes, his aura spiking along Twilight's magic sense.

"I once was Blind, but now I see."

[Cedric Rolfsson]

The city's foul air left a familiar burn as he scented it, seeking familiar scents, anything unusual to warn him of danger. His hearing was acute enough to hear the rodents scurrying in the dark alley shadows twenty feet away. He moved with the bold, long legged stride of a predator, confident that none in this place would be so foolish as to challenge his right to traveled where he pleased.

Walker closed on the address the Elders had designated, allowing his intellect to worry at the possibilities while his instincts handled the realities. His uncle's warrior training was a deep seated part of his psyche and all of the intellectual pursuits he involved himself in couldn't dull his hunter's edge. He stalked in near silence through the wet concrete and steel trees of this urban jungle. His preternatural senses probing at the darkness and light around him for any predator sufficiently hungry to view him as prey. He'd hunted dangerous creatures on four continents, he knew well the line between predator and prey was thinner than the edge of a knife.

The closer he got to the meeting the more attention he focused on the sensory data flowing to him. His sense sampled the night, seeking sounds, sights, or magic to alert him to danger.

[Blitz]

:: Nevermore can't help but smile at the subtle acknowledgement of their shared objective. After taking a moment to weigh the potential dangers, she decides that most likely he is here for the same meeting as she, which means she could easily be working with or against him soon. It would be advantageous to begin a dialogue early. It could either develop into an ally or provide her additional impressions on the opposition. ::

:: Checking her pistols in her holsters, she pulls her jacket over shoulders and exits the exotic car. It's not necessarily overly expensive, but the unusual passenger configuration gives it a slightly alien design. ::

:: Her clothes are standard european fair, dark somber colors, layered clothing to keep out the cold but well tailored to keep her from looking frumpy or overly bundled. ::

:: Her skin is flawless and pale, with dark blue eyes that seem to be unnatural in their darkness. Her hair is inky black with thick full bangs frame her face while the surprising lengths in the back are tied out of her way in a low simple ponytail. Her lips part in a humorless smile at the figure as she takes a seat near him, accepting the coffee with a nod. ::

[BishopMcQ]

"Welcome to Prague."

Twilight chose English to start their dialogue. He sips his coffee quietly, a steady contrast to his new companion. With his dischromatic skin and utilitarian coveralls, he is reminiscent of the fairy tale monster, the Patchwork man who eats the souls of mischievous children. Only the tell-tale cloak is missing replaced by a vast sweeping overcoat.

Notes in the stitching would tell the discerning eye that the well-worn coat is actually custom tailored, rather than any one of a hundred other coats found in European department stores for middle class men.

"Wonderful weather we've been having. Much better than the fog in Brittany."

[Bearclaw]

Freddie sipped his cappuccino and looked back at the man who spoke to him as he passed. His aura was obviously masked, as a mundane would never have recognized Freddie, and Freddie chose to respect that. Physically, the elf was rather non-descript, although the overalls were an uncommon sight at this place and time.

Just as Freddie had decided to walk over and start a conversation with the man, a woman sat down beside him. She accepts a cup of coffee and sits down. Well, isn’t this a cozy little party? I guess I’ll join them anyway. What could go wrong?

Freddie leaves his stool and walks back to where the strangers are sitting and says to the man in the coveralls, “when the blind lead the blind, those who can see risk madness”.
Then he had to suppress a giggle as he heard his words coming from Stevie’s mouth, but he covered by smiling and asked “do you mind if I join you?”

[BishopMcQ]

"Sit, please. I was just commenting on the weather."

The elf moved over to supply ample space for the newcomer to sit.

"I do not believe introductions have been made. I am Willem. The two of you are?"

[caramel frappucc...]

Arriving on the scene shortly after the great clock ticks five, Izzy is mildly surprised to discover that the two individuals he had spotted earlier had decided to congregate, and that their number had grown to three in his absence. He briefly considers joining their party for a chat before discarding the idea. There will be more than enough time to make introductions later; certainly, this will be an interesting group to talk to.

Hey, do you know that the girl is really a guy?

Oh really? Which one?

The one with the funky hat.

Good to know.

Izzy greets the coffee crew with a faint nod of the head as he passes by their circle. He walks up to the door of the designated building for the meet, grips the knob and tries it, curious to see what mysteries are awaiting him within the chambers of the edifice.

[Blitz]

:: Taking a sip of the well made coffee, she takes a moment survey both her new companions. She weighed the options on whether or not to reveal her identity or use her current pseudonym. In the end, she decides that if this action was meant to develop trust, it was better not to start off with a lie. ::

"I am known as Nevermore, and quite frankly, I prefer the gloom."

:: Her own english is clear and well spoken, but with an underlying accent that hints at eastern eurpoean heritage. ::

[Bearclaw]

Freddie frowns.
"Please forgive the mask I wear, but until I know more about why I'm here, I'm afraid I must keep my name and my face to myself, I hope you understand. I do answer to Bob though. I'm very glad to meet you Nevermore. And you as well Willem"
He turns and nods to the man who walks past and tries the door....