You wake from dreadful nightmares of a schoolmarm of ogre blood shouting at you.

"You messed up the Prophecy!"  And then smacking your open hands with a ruler, and then forcing you to go out back of the schoolhouse, and clean out the outhouse.

And then you realize the smell is true.  You're laying on your back, your eyes are closed, and the breeze is chill, and you smell a faint whiff of urine and garbage.  In the distance you hear a car honking, and the soft sussurations of many cars driving in the distance.

Opening your eyes, you see you are in an alley.

PT

The prophecy... I messed up... why... why...  I stand up in the alley, dusting myself off.  Okay, then... I gotta figure out where I am.  Wait... before I continue...  I check to see if I'm alone in the alley.  If I am, I turn my back to the world and attempt to summon a sprite, checking to see if I can still do that in this world.  If I'm not alone, or after I finish attempting to summon the sprite, I walk out of the alley, trying to get my bearings.

Your fire sprite appears and buzzes before you.

"Master? Herald of the Prophecy, what do you want?"

You dismiss it after a bit,and it vanishes with the usual puff of smoke.  Upon walking out of the alley, you first see a Ford Mustang ragtop painted pink, and two guys leaning against it, all alone in a lamp-lit commercial street.

The tall, hulking figure, brutally large, is dressed in a black jacket, and tie.  The other man, is dressed in a fur-trimmed velour jacket, and bell bottom blue jeans.

He stands up when you come out of the alley, and motions with one hand for the taller man to stay put.

"Hello there, daddy-o.  Nice night to catch some air, don't you think?"  He is obviously trying to be friendly, and he is not approaching any closer than ten feet.

Playtester

"Yes, I suppose so."  I move my right hand to my pocket, where my knife is still safely kept inside of my jeans.  At least I always carry this around.  I don't know what I'd do if I lost it between worlds.  "So, what are you fine gentlemen up to at this time of night?"

"Well, my name is Gavin, and that there is Jackson. He's not very talkative.  Anyways, I own the nightclub, the Pit, and I often find myself wandering the night after closing to relax before I can get calm enough to go to bed.

And then I see a gentleman, who looks a bit distressed, and I wonder if I can offer him some help.  You look like you might have been robbed.  If need be, I can advance you enough money to get a hotel room, and you can pay me later."

PT

"Sure, I suppose that would be nice."  I realize that I don't have a wallet or a job, and there's no way I'd ever be able to pay him back.

"Saaay... are you perhaps looking for someone to help you around the club?  I can bounce, do the bar, whatever."  I grin hopefully, realizing I must sound like an idiot.  A hotel would be a lot better than sleeping outside, though, and I'd rather like being able to pay him back at some point.

He nods and then speaks enthusiastically.

"I like how you think. An excellent idea. Here, let me give you a card. Come by tommorrow, after dark.  We will get you set up in a job."  He steps closer and hands you a business card with a hundred dollar bill wrapped around it.

"By the way, what was your name?  And do you know anyone named Father Matthew?"

PT

"Hey, man, thanks a lot!"  I take the card and the money.  I pocket both.  "The name's Malachai.  Malachai Vanek.  As for Father Matthew... no, sorry, never heard of him.  I haven't been in this part of town very long.  Oh, think you could point me in the direction of the nearest hotel?"  My stomach began to growl.  "And perhaps a gas station?"

He seems happy to oblige, and drives you to a nearby gas station which seems much as you would expect, except that the newspaper is Detroit Free Press May 19, 2007, and there is an abundance of commercial curses and enchantments available for sale in little cardboard boxes along with the sinus medicine, stay awake drugs for truck drivers, and candy.

Curses to give your boss boils, or make a rival come down sick for a day, or to have a car wreck, and enchantments to protect yourself from all manner of supernatural and natural ills.

All available at very reasonable rates.  After all, who would not buy a little statuette that was supposed to make you "Guaranteed healthy with no colds for one year." for $2.99?

Then he drives you to the Red Devil Inn, and drops you off.

PT

I step out of the car and thank him for the ride, assuring him I'd be at the club tomorrow right after dark.  I watch him drive off and then turn around and walk into the hotel, finishing off my chips and Coke I had bought.  I toss both into a garbage can and walk up to the front desk.  After getting my room and paying for it in advance, I proceed to my room.

If there's a computer, I'll go onto the internet and look at several news pages.  If there isn't one, I'll watch the TV and try and catch some late-night local news.

No internet, and you have to flick past four horror movies, two religious shows (one for Odinites, and another Catholic), and a shopping chanel selling instruments of torture *for educational purposes only* before you reach Channel Nine news.

...Police continue to search for clues to the Seventeenth Street Strangler, now on his tenth victim...
...The Wiccan Community Council is holding a Children's Festival at Dockside Park tommorrow, a live animal sacrifice is expected...
...A case before a local court denies the lawsuit of a man who 'claims to have been injured by a spell' as all the best scientific research indicates magic is non-existent, although a belief in such is a comfort to the holder, and may assuage feelings of powerlessness...
...The local pro football team, the Detroit Warlocks defeated the St. Louis Inquisitors 17-7 putting the Inq's star quarterback into a coma...

Through it all there is an obvious focus on magic of various kinds, with the ads being even more obvious about it, but also there is a feeling of depravity, of viciousness worse than what you remember of the TV news you grew up with.  When they talk of someone being hurt there is an almost complete lack of empathy for the victim.

My eyes grow wider as I watch the news.  Is... is this real?  Can it possibly be real?  There's no.. well.. maybe... this isn't good.  I click off the television and lie back on the bed.  "Okay," I say to myself.  "I've landed in a world full of nutjobs.  Just gotta remember to keep cool and stab everyone I meet in a dark alley before they gun me down."  Going to sleep, I plan to visit that "Children's Festival" they're holding at Dockside Park tomorrow.

OoC: This seems similar to McMac's world in a couple of ways.

lol

You go to the festival, with your hand in your pocket, but most people seem friendly enough, if a bit wary, and you find yourself relaxing a bit.  It does seem like most people act roughly normal.

Its just as you pass your alley, and go on up the road a bit further that you see a young woman being covered by a sheet by officers, and then slowly bundled in the back of an ambulance for the ceremonial trip to the hospital because by this time, she is past help.

People around you don't look shocked, more like depressed and weary.  Another day in the big city, and yet another innocent gets caught in the blades or by the sharks seems to be the general attitude.

Fighting back shock, you make your way another ten blocks to the Dockside Park.  It looks nice, although protestors are out decrying supposed corruption in the bidding contracts.

The Dock extends out into a great blue lake, and the park runs alongside it.  Both are filled with tourists,and schoolchildren, and a lots of balloons, and people tossing frisbees.

You make your way to the Festival area, and enter the balloon gate, and have an attractive, skinny young blonde girl hand you a tract "Mother Earth Cares for All Her Children" and press it into your hand along with two certificates good for free concessions or an amusement park ride.

Inside, its a schoolchildren's paradise, except the Midway seems more raunchy than you would expect.  Seeing a ten year old boy trying to uncover a pornographic drawing of a Vestal Virgin by popping balloons with darts...

And then you come up to the bull corral where a placid, too placid really, bull is turning about in his cage while a man in a black robe is lecturing about the need to ensure good luck for the city.  And a small group of diverse protestors is waving signs.

"Atheists against sacrifice!"
"PETA says sacrifice cabbages, not cows!"
"What if that was you in the cage?"
"One sacrifice, one time, Cavalry."

Playtester
OOC: I agree with your point...both are horror worlds...but then I don't think you're going to see this fair in your world. :)
I edited this because I had "PETA says sacrifice cabbages, NOW cows!", but maybe I shouldn't have.  Someone making a spelling mistake in a protest sign adds a touch of realism.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:39, Fri 11 Nov 2005.

I look at the bull strangely.  Last time I saw a bull, it nearly gouged some guy's heart out... I wonder how they're going to handle this when they try to kill it.  I turn and look at the protesters.  To the atheists I say "Do you eat meat?"  I turn to the PETA and say "when has cabbage tasted good?"  I turn to the people asking about if you were in the cage and say "but you aren't.  And you never will be."  I turn to the Christians and say "Deuteronomy 12:27
And thou shalt offer thy burnt offerings, the flesh and the blood, upon the altar of the Lord thy God: and the blood of thy sacrifices shall be poured out upon the altar of the Lord thy God, and thou shalt eat the flesh."

I'm pretty sure I just threw a rock at a hornet's nest, but I'm curious to see how they will react.

Looking more closely at the bull, you decide its drugged.

The Atheist explains "Its not the physical act, but what it represents.  A call to the demon-haunted irrational part of our brain.  A view of the world tainted by mysticism instead of rationality.  Magic is a child's tale told to comfort children, but adults are able to face the reality of the universe."

The Peta people snap back: "Look, so you're saying you're willing to inflict cruelty on another being just for your own convenience?"

The Cage person who seems somewhat associated with the Peta people replies with a grin thats a little strange.  "But are you sure of that? Soylent Green, my friend. Soylent Green.  Its going to happen.  You and I and all the little people are going to be ground up into little hamburgers for teh rich people to sample."

The Christian looks at you seriously, and says. "That was the Old Testament. Now, in the Church Age we have done away with sacrifice."

The Atheist smiles calmly at you, and the Cage guys seem willing to expound further on their theories, and the Christian is giving you a searching glance.  The PETA people have turned away, acting as if they have thrashed you already.

In other words, the group of demonstrators is mostly on their best behaviour.

PT

Well, at least these people are relatively sane.  To the atheist I say "magic may be more real than you think.  We used to believe the world was flat."  The PETA has ignored me, so I decide to ignore them.  "Soylent Green?"  I ask the cage person.  "Wazzat?"  I turn and look at the Christian once again.  "But it's been done.  In this religion now, the New Testamant has not come yet.  Once it has, I'm sure they'll stop animal sacrifices.  Until then, you don't have a right to complain, as because if you were still living in the Old Testament, you'd be sacrificing animals too."

They clump around you a bit more closely eager for an arguement.  You can tell that they are having a good time.

Atheist: "We used to believe the world was flat, back during the same time when educated people believed in magic, and things that went bump in the night, but modern science has disproven both those theories."

Cage: "Soylent Green, man. You know, the movie.  The one where the guy at the end tries to tell everyone the food biscuits, they are eating, he says 'its people, its people.' and like no one cares, and they drag him off.  The ecosystem is going to collapse, and overpopulation is going to kick in, and we're going to end up cannibals."

Christian: He looks a bit rocked back on his heels, and then recovers. "Well yes, if their religion is true. But I don't think it is. I think Cavalry finished it all.  But an interesting angle to look at it, I hadn't quite seen it that way before."

PT

To the atheist:  "Do you remember the history books where when the settlers visited the Native people and the Mayans and civilizations like that?  Our guns were considered 'magic' by them.  Perhaps nowadays magic is simply an expansion of science no-one has bothered looking into yet."

To the cage person: "Oh, yeah, of course!"  I slap myself over the side of my head.  I really don't know what this movie is... I hope he doesn't ask for specifics.  "The ecosystem is already collapsing, my friend.  Overpopulation is already taking its toll.  As for cannabalism... if you were stuck on the desert island with one totally random person, and that person died; and you knew that help would be coming in, say, 6 days, but you knew that you would only last 3 days without food... would you eat the person?"

To the Christian:  "Your religion may not be true.  No one knows whether or not their religion is truly correct until they die.  There are other theories, such as every religion, in some small way, worships the true god or gods out there."  My argument with the Christian is weak, and I know it, but I'm still curious as to how he will respond.

Atheist: "Perhaps. But then every scientific study says otherwise. Until then, I will continue to believe in what is provable."  There's a courtesy to him, but also a definite sense of smug condescension mixed into his certainty of position.

Cage: "Yes, you're so right. And yeah, I guess I would. I mean it would be gross, but you'd have to.  But thats why we need to try to lessen the impact on the Earth.  Stop using our highly exploitive industries.  Stop raping the Earth, and maybe, just maybe she will forgive us, and not wipe out the human race, as she has good cause to do."

Christian: "Of course. It may not be true.  But the balance of the available evidence, which I've examined, says it is. Could I be wrong? Yes. Could other religions be right, like the Odinites, the Mithrans, and the Mirrorians? Sure. But I choose to trust the Unseen Christ on the basis of what is seen.  I judge the evidence in His favor.  Its like this, I mean, I barely know you, but I already would feel no qualms about turning my back on you.  Because I know enough about you to trust that you are not a murderous lunatic who would then stab me in the back. So it is with Christ and the Bible. There are things that I don't understand, but on the things I do understand it seems to make sense, and so I have faith for the rest."

Playtester

To the atheist: "Of course.  Just, will you mind me and many other people laughing at you when magic is proved by science?"  I say this in all seriousness, not trying to be mean or condescending but knowing it might be taken wrong.

To the cage person: "Yeah, that's pretty much what's going to happen.  If we don't kill ourselves soon, the planet will do it for us."

To the Christian: "Odi-err... Mirror-whats?  I don't really recognize those religions, and I know of some strange ones... as for your belief, well, it's yours and I will respect that."

The conversations are fun, but I'm anxious to see how the sacrificial ceremony will go, and am wondering when it will start.

The atheist nods, and drifts away.  The Cage guy gives you a brochure for a meeting held every saturday morning at the Motown State Park and Sand Dune Preservation Area.

The Christian smiles. "I feel like I'm prosyletizing for other gods.  And I know some.  The Odinites worship Odin, the leader of the Norse gods.  Very big on courage, although quite generouos as well.  The Mirrorians I'm not so familiar with.  They worship Yamatseru, I think, the Japanese goddess of that nation, and she has a Mirror, and they try to mirror her purpose in the world. Hence the name."

You check around, and it seems like it will start at noon.  Thats an hour away.

PT

I thank the Christian for the conversation and walk away.  Odin, eh?  I've always liked the myths around that guy.  Realizing I have two pamphlets now, I take them both out and read them, walking around the park.

As I walk and read, I head over to the concession stand to get a hot dog or a bag of chips or something; anything, really.

You make your way up to a stand via means of a twenty minute long line, and turn in one of your 'free' certificates.  In return, they give a Polish kielbasa sausage in a bun with fried onions liberally scattered on top, a side of Boston baked beans that almost swamps your plate, an ice cream scoop of coleslaw, some real ice cream (vanilla) on top of peach cobbler, and a Grapico cola drink. Or you can choose to have the Thor's Hammer energy drink which has a picture of Mjolnir throwing out lightning and the words "Have the energy of a god! 'for entertainment purposes only'."


The festival brochure is for a Wiccan group and is quite slickly produced, and shows lots of smiling girls in white gowns, and emphasizes how kind and loving they are, and invites one to come visit a local temple with some listed.

The Cage guys brochure is much more militant in tone, and hints at monkey-wrenching and speaks of the fight to save the Earth from the developers and the Dark Forces behind them.  Its also pretty obviously printed off on some guy's printer with a desktop program.

PT

I take my various foodstuff on my plate, balancing them carefully.  Finding a seat somewhere under a tree, I sit down and began eating.  I make a mental note to visit one of those Wiccan temples later on, curious what they can really do.  Reading the cage guy's brochure, I get the picture that the group is relatively small.  It is interesting, though.

Finishing my food, I decide to find a seat near to where the sacrifice is going to be taking place.

You watch as the crowds begin to gather, and excited schoolchildren yelp, and then the bull is led up to the stage.  A man in a black robe speaks for a while about the bringing of luck to the troubled city of Motown, and about honoring the Mother of us all.

And then as drums play, dancing girls come out and strew rose garlands over the dull-eyed bull.  They dance about it, kissing it on the face, and then dance back.

A man comes out swinging a golden scythe in expert swirls and spins amidst the girls.  Then he turns to the bull. Bows, and then shouts out.

"I dedicate this sacrifice to the Earth!"

The blade flashes in the sun, and slices through the bull's neck.  Blood spurts out all over the stage, and spatters on the dancers white gowns, and on the man.  While the bull shudders in uncomprehending shock, and then crashes to the ground, the girls pull out small whisks, and scoop up slight bits of blood, and flick it out on the crowd members who cry out in exultation mixed with a healthy dose of schoolboy glee at gore.

Some blood touches your cheek, and distantly you hear the man next to you say how lucky you are.

PT

I wipe the blood off my cheek with my fingertips and stick it in my mouth.  I don't really know why, but I feel as though that may be a better course of action than flicking it away.

The ceremony over with, I wander away from the crowd.  Not having much else better to do, I begin wandering the streets, seeing if I might come across anything interesting.

You wander up and down the streets dismayed at the squalor and city-wide decay.  Aimless youths stand about looking for something of interest while their streets are filled with ripped up garbage bags since the strike is three weeks old.  Nobody looks at you with interest or kindness, instead the law-abiding shun each others faces for fear of provoking a response.

Your travels take you past a four story solid square building, built of black and dark brown bricks, with windows permanently closed that is labelled in garish red letters several feet high over the door--The Pit!

You've found Gavin's nightclub, but it looks completely closed for now.

Two blocks further on, you pass the Seventeenth Street Rescue Mission, and you remember Gavin asking you about Father Matthew who runs the place.

Another block, and you hear crashing noises, yells, and rounding the corner of a Sub shoppe now closed and out of business, and you see a car rocking back and forth, as five young thugs kick and beat it with their huge boots, and baseball bats. Inside, a couple waves their  hands in terror.

PT

"Oh, man..." I say to myself.  "This could never be good... okay, I've got two options here: one, I help them and probably get killed; two, I turn around and walk away and stay alive.  But, if I do die, then I'd verse out... egad... what to do..."  I stand there thinking for a couple seconds before making up my mind.

"Okay, I'll help them."  I quickly look around for a beer bottle or other glass-like object; virtually anything that could be used as a weapon, really.  Whether I find something or not, I pull up my knife and walk up to the group.  If they don't notice me, and I have a beer bottle, I plan on smashing it over the head of one of them.  If they don't notice me and I don't have a beer bottle, I plan on grabbing one of them and holding my knife to their throat while walking backwards.

If they do notice me, well... then it's time to have some fun.

Motown being what it is, an assortment of beer bottles is available on the street for you to use.  Budweiser, Miller Lite, Soulkiller, Elfshot Brew, Samuel Adams, MadWolf....

Bottle in hand, you casually stroll down there, and the half-stoned thugs don't notice you until you have a knife at the leader's throat.  He's a big fellow, heavy-boned, and with a waistline like he might have once thought to be a sumo wrestler, and dressed in a black and red Detroit Warlocks basketball shirt.

You realize as you draw him back that he has a nine mm stuck in the back of his pants.

The others have stopped, and are staring at you with roughly the same expression a wolf might use for a surprise threat.

PT

I quickly drop the beer bottle and pull the pistol out of his pants.  After checking that the safety is off and there is indeed a clip loaded (if there isn't I see if I can find one on him), I point it at the others.  "Okay, back off.  NOW!  All of you, drop your weapons-ALL OF THEM-and get out of here.  I'm going to count to 10.  If you're not 3 blocks away by the time I'm done, there's going to be trouble."

I cock the hammer on the pistol back and keep it pointed steady at them.  If they make a move that could be taken aggresively, I fire.  It's better to be safe than sorry here, and I don't think many people would care if a couple junkies' brains were splattered on the roadside.  "1... 2..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:26, Wed 16 Nov 2005.

They look at you, and then smile to each other.  The two on the far side of the car duck down.  That leaves one in the front of the car, one in front of you on this side of the car, and one in your hands.

"Can't kill us all, good Sumerian."  The guy in your hands chuckles, a bit weakly.

The guy in front of you draws a blade.  The one in front of the car begins to pull out a Raven .25 (aka a really cheap piece of junk gun).  You don't know wha the other two are doing.

"You going to pay, run away, we let you live. Stay and you going to cry to your momma about what the big bad boys did to you."  The knifewielder says with evident relish, flicking his blade back and forth.

PT

"A knife?"  I laugh at him.  "The last time someone beat me in a knifefight was, well... never, actually!  No one has ever even come close.  So, come on... prove your mettle..."  I aim at the thug pulling out a pistol in front of the car and fire at his chest, knowing that even at this range, there's a decent chance I'll miss.  I double-tap the shot towards the centre mass, knowing that if even one of the bullets hit, he'll go down.  After firing, I begin to slowly back away, trying to move into a corner.  If I can get into a corner, then I can face these guys one-on-one, enhancing my chances of survival tenfold.

If they all come at me frome different angles, and at least one of them's half decent at close combat, I'm screwed.  Into the corner, get into the corner.  If the one I'm holding starts to squirm, I don't hesitate in slitting his throat.

You hit the gun goon with the first shot, and the second bucks into the sky as the knife wielder charges you.  The one in your arms tries to break free, and you slip the knife across his throat.  But his falling body is in the way of a clean shot at the knife guy who is suddenly in your face, and on top of you.  A shot is fired, too late you realize you were the one that pulled the trigger, and he comes down on top of you.

He has his knife poised to stab down into your face or chest as you lay on your back, and you have your left arm holding his wrist while he tries to grope with his left hand for your pistol.  You hear some running coming toward you.

His demented face all red and strange with drool coming out of his mouth.

He's screaming "I'll kill you..." over and over.

PT

As he's on top of me, advice from one of my friends who took grappling classes comes back to me.  Wrap your legs around his back, cross your ankles, and then push.  I do so, pushing him away from me.  I tighten my grip with my left hand and, at the same time, I take my knife and stab it into the inside of his elbow on his knife-arm.  I know that if I hit it, his arm will most likely become useless, the pain-if not the several of blood vessels and nerves-hopefully causing him to drop his knife.  If he backs off, I waste no time in stabbing the side of his torso.

If I succeed, I waste no time in grabbing the pistol and looking at who's coming towards me.  If it's a thug, I send a slug into his chest.

OoC: Quick note, my pistol's in my left hand (dropped, now, I suppose) and my knife's in my right... if you didn't realize that from the beginning.  <_<   >_>  Yeah...

You throw him back, and stick your knife into his arm.  He collapses whining and crying from the pain, and your gun is in your hand, and you're firing at the two that are charging you, but as soon as they see you firing they are diving wildly and then scrambling to run away.

In fact, everyone is either down, running away, or trying to run.

What do you do?

PT

I stand up and give those on the ground a swift kick to the gut before helping them up and getting them running.  After they're all going away, I wipe my knife clean with a rag (if there is one, otherwise I'll just flick off what I can, I guess) before I put it back in my hidden sheath.  I gather the pistols and ammo that I can and put them into various locations in my belt.

Mental note: buy a backpack

Afterwards, I go over to the car to see how the people inside are doing.

They open their window about a quarter, real nervously.

The older fellow in the gray suit with his probably wife in a nice dress look relieved.

They roll down the window a bit further when you assure them everything is okay.

"Thank you, sir. I mean everyone told me how vicious Motown was, but I wanted to take Kimmie here to see the museum, and then when we get out the car doesn't start, and all of a sudden this group of goons is surrounding the car."

His wife is thanking you profusely as well, and promising to never again desire to see the big city museums.

PT

I smile at the couple.  "No problem.  Just be more careful next time you're in a town like this.  Is your car working now, or do you need to talk to a mechanic?"  I plan on helping this couple as much as I can until they get out of Motown... hopefully for a long time.

Man, I've gotta be careful in this town.  Pick my fights carefully.  Don't want to get on the bad side of a biggish gang.

The car is not working, and he talks on a cel phone to a mechanic who advises him to pop his hood.  He does, and gets out of the car, and then grimly shows you that his battery cables were loosened.  He tightens them up, and the car starts just fine.

Before making a u-turn and peeling out to get away from Motown, he hands you a business card.

"Alastair Morgan, CEO Morgan and Morgan Concrete Company. Rockford, Michigan."

"Any time, anywhere." He says and shakes your hand.

Kimmie gets out of teh car and gives you a hug.

"I shall never come back. I've heard people say its like Satan is in charge of the big cities, but until you see it, you don't believe it.  Nothing like this would happen in little Rockford.  Even the worst thugs would just rob you.  But even where there are demons, there are also angels. Thank you sweet boy."  She gives you a motherly kiss on the cheek, and climbs back in.  Alastair waves, and peels out leaving a streak of rubber on the road.

PT

I look at the couple driving away and chuckle to myself.  They're nice... perhaps I should talk to him on the phone at some point.  I take a look around me and realize that I have, yet again, nothing to do.

Having no better option, I decide to head back to the hotel.  Maybe there'd be something good on TV until night comes.  I walk leisurly, having no real reason to hurry.

OoC: What have I scavenged from the battlefield?  You forgot to tell me.  :P

Twirling your five foot of chain, and playing with your new butterfly knife, you contemplate the cheap piece of junk Raven .25 pistol in your hand.  You drop by a convenience store on the way back, and pick up a Detroit Warlocks backpack, and put your stuff in it.

The black and green backpack with the menacing figure of a lurid green flame tossing warlock makes you fit in better.

You get back to your room, and watch a horror flick about zombies and werewolves and vampires and mummies and demons and aliens from under the Earth and aliens from outer space and mind controlling mutants.  Its so bad, so chock full of every cliche you've ever heard of, that it has you hooting with laughter even as the dread alien vampire-werewolf Dr. Fang tries to marry the beautiful mind controlling mutant alien from outer space in order to make a killing on the stock market...

After that, its another movie, a duller biopic about a turn of the century writer known for his novels describing the viciousness of society.  His name is Gavin Roberts, and he sounds like he has a right depressing view of life.

And then its nightfall, and you drift by the Pit!  Red lights are shooting columns into the sky from the roof, and a long line is waiting at the door, and a bouncer is holding court as various people try to get in.  It seems a young, Goth crowd with a mix of other types.

And every time the bouncer opens the door for a lucky patron, smoke billows out, and you can see dancers and spinning lights, and hear the bass thump of heavy metal music thundering out into the street.

PT

Nice, this seems like my kind of place.  Gonna have some fun here.  I smile as I walk up to the bouncer.  "Hey," I say to him as I walk up.  "Name's Malachai.  I talked to Gavin a while ago and he said he was gonna give me a job.  If I could just go in, that'd be awesome."  I patiently wait for the bouncer to let me in.  As I wait, I slowly tap my fingers on the strap of my backpack, feeling the comfortable weight of the "tools" inside.  The chains a bit heavy, but the shock value provided by pulling it out in a fight would be worth it.

OoC: Best.HorrorMovie.Evar.  I wanna see that now.

The bouncer nods, and asks your name.

"Malachai." You say, and he smiles.  "Go right in."  The people waiting in line protest, but you plunge in the doorway, and into what feels like a wall of sound.  It jolts you, and you see from your perch by the door a multi-level establishment with dozens of tiny spotlights spinning and wobbling their beams in the dim, and more people dancing than sitting at tables or at the fifty foot long bar.

The music is so loud that even shouting you probably can't make yourself heard.  People use sign language more than words.

And then with an ear-squealing crescendo that vibrates into a heart-rending shriek the music changes.  After a bit, you decide the muscians are not as talented as they are loud.

PT

Crap, this isn't good.  I shoulda bought some earplugs.  Eh... maybe Gavin will have some.  I start moseying around the club until I see the bar, and then walk up to it.  I shout to the bartender "where's Gavin!?"

Seeing it's virtually useless, I try to sign to let the bartender know to give me something to write with.  If he gives me something, I also ask if he has some earplugs.

He hands you a magic marker after searching around a bit, and a notepad. You write back...

"Gavin?"
and
"Earplugs?"

He points toward the back wall where a door just shows its head above some descending stairs at the edge of the room.  Then he smirks at you, and tosses you a package of ear plugs with a dismissive attitude.

One girl, white face painted, skin and bones, perhaps out of high school, black one piece, who sits at the bar next to where you were standing writes you a message.

"Why bother? Live fast, die young, have a beautiful corpse."

PT

I smile at the girl.  "I plan on living for a long time, missy," I write back to her.  I don't really have much choice in the matter...  I stick the earplugs in my ears, glad with the knowledge that my ears won't be bleeding today.

My ears taken care of, I take off for the door the bartender mentioned.  I knock on it and wait for an answer.

The door opens, and the huge Jackson ushers you in, and past a secretary, and to a solid wooden door without a word. Once the outer door closes, its almost quiet back here.

Jackson opens the door, and leads you into an office dimly lit except for a lamp over a desk where Gavin is working on a project.

Gavin looks up and smiles.

"Thank you, Jackson. Why don't you meander about, squash any thoughts of starting a fight in any idiots heads, hmmh?"  Jackson nods, and leaves.  "Well, Malachai, its a pleasure to see you here.  I had hopes, indeed I did. Please have a seat."

He stands up, and directs you to a comfortable chair with ample arm rests.

PT

I take my backpack off and lean it against the chair before sitting down.  This is nice, I think as I lean my head back and close my eyes for a second.

"Hey, I said I would be here, wouldn't I?  I still have to pay back that hundred bucks I owe you."

"Well, you wanted a job.  I do have an opening as an assistant bartender.  You could learn the ropes, learn how to make drinks, and friends.  The pay starts at fifteen an hour plus tips, and once you get some experience and become fully licensed it can be twenty five an hour.

Now sometimes, we have cops come in here. Always just give them a beer without their asking for it.  Put it in one of the cups with the blue umbrellas which is code for non-alcoholic but I think a cop should be able to get a free drink without fussing the public.  It smooths things over with the cops if there are any difficulites later. If they want anything else, you give it to them, even if they ask for a loan. Just open the cash register and give them a fifty or two. Just remember to tell me or Jackson, okay?"

Do you look underage?

PT

"All right, sure thing." I stand up out of the chair.  "Sounds good."  I pick up my backpack, preparing to leave the room.

"So, do I start now?"

OoC: Technically, my character's 16 (possibly 17 by this point in the game, depending on how much time has passed, but I haven't really been paying attention to that)... so, yes.  It's not like there's any proof of him being 16 or 18 or any age, really, besides in his original world.

"Just go out to the bar keep with this note."  He hands you a loosely folded piece of paper, and you head out the door.  And you realize, your clothing is not any shorter around the ankles than it was, nor do you have any more of hair on your face then when you started, and while you do have some more muscle, and more knowledge, and magic, otherwise you're exactly the same as when you started.

And it looks like Gavin really does not care about age limits because you're pretty obviously not twenty-one, but he did not bat an eye.

You look across the room, and see the bar keep that you're going to be working with.  Its the guy who smirked at you.

PT

I thank Gavin and then proceed to walk out of the room.  I glance at the note as I walk across the floor to the bar, where I hand it to the bartender there and proceed to get ready to start learning bartending.

OoC: No more hair?  o_O  I've been shaving since I was 13.

XD

The note looks like its covered in hieroglypics or something.  You get to the bartender, and he nods, a bit skeptically.

First thing he has you start on is washing glasses.  Once you prove that you can keep up with the rush, and it slows down for a bit, he tabs your shoulder.

And then he flips open a book of drinks, and has you start making mixed drinks.  He gives them away for free, and just asks the customers to tell you how you did.

After a bit, you've gathered quite a fan club, and he has you and him serve a beer to everyone, and then cut your class short.

After that, its a blur.  You find yourself working so fast that you lose track of time, and beads of sweat are flying off your face.  Your teacher does not seem bothered by the heat or the effort, and like a machine just keeps slamming out the drinks.

Finally, it ends, and trembling you collapse in a chair.  At the same time, your're so wound up, you can't stay still.

"You get one-third of the tips. Which means you get 131 dollars. Not bad, Malachai. I think you've got the touch."  The barkeep says as he comes over to your table, and as the bouncers chase out the last few.

PT

"Touch, eh?  Sounds like fun."  I wipe my arm across my brow, flicking the sweat off.

I look around at the closing club.  "So what happens now?  We done?"

OoC: Short... post... *twitches*

"We're done. Go home, be here just after sundown tommorrow night. Of course, you could go out with some friends."  He laughs and points across the room to some girls who are obviously a little drunk, and are being shooed out.

"Take them to Waffle House, like a good citizen." He laughs, and somehow its a bit sinister, but perhaps its just the oddness of the dawnlight coming through the doorway which throws a different light on the room making you see how cheap the furnishings really are, and how opressively sturdy the walls are.

PT

I laugh with him.  "No thanks.  Not my style."  I stand up and shake my head a bit before grabbing my bag.  "Well... see ya tomorrow, I guess."

Before leaving, I take a quick look around.  If I see Gavin, I give him the hundred bucks I owe him.  If I don't find him (or after I pay him back), I head outside and begin the walk back towards the hotel.

I'm going to need to find a cheap apartmen somewhere.  Staying at a hotel's gonna kill my wallet.  Suppose I'll grab a newspaper along the way if I find one, or just pick one up tomorrow.

Since it's still early, I keep my right hand in my pocket next to my knife in case someone decides to be dumb enough to try and mug me.

The last time you saw Gavin was about an hour ago.

You find a newspaper tossed in a trash can on the way back, and there is no threats you can see.  Its beginning to be dawnlight as you walk home, and thus its too early for robbers and muggers to be out, after all criminals tend to be lazy.

The fog in the street, and the cool air almost makes this city seem to be pleasant, at least until you see a shape ahead of you in the fog. A shape that seems larger than human, with longer legs and arms proportionally as well.

PT

I stick the newspaper in my backpack as quietly as I can and proceed to look more carefully at the shape ahead.  What... is... that?  I move a bit closer to the building and slowly step along, inching my way closer to whatever the shadow is.

As always, my hand is on my knife in case something is to happen.  This should be interesting... let's see what it is...

The fog gets temporarily thicker, and then out of the fog walks the Cage guy from the day before.

"Hey man, fancy meeting you here."  And then he pauses. "You don't work at the Pit do you? Cause thats not like a real good place, if you catch my drift. Dark forces, man, dark forces."

He wearing a different t-shirt, one that shimmers in the early morning light, and a dreamcatcher is held in his left hand.

PT

Hippy... ah, well, at least I know him... sorta...  "Hey, man."  I step towards him, closing the distance to five feet or so.  I relax my hand and put it in my pocket.  "Yeah... I work at the pit.  Only there cause I owe Gavin money, really.  Got enough to pay it back now, but... hey... money's money."  I shrug my shoulders.  "Whadya mean, dark forces?  Like the wiccans?  And what's your name, anyways?"

Dreamcatcher... haven't seen one of those in a while.  Hippy... definetely.

"Um, well, I'm not sure I'm supposed to tell you, at least about the dark forces.  My name is Mike O'Neill, Irish guy, ya' know.  Some of my friends use these dreamcatchers to track down nightmares, and keep hold of them. I'm trying to learn how to use the magic."

There is a definite hard-nosed edge to him that doesn't quite square with the hippy idea.  Although there are other bits which do like his "Save the State Forrest" T-Shirt.

"Dark forces. Well I told you about them the other day. There is a darkness in the city. A meanness.  It hungers.  I can't really say more, although I'd like to. But if you come to one of our meetings, and meet the others.  We're kind of democratic, y'know.  They might let you in on what's really happening in the shadows."

PT

I take in what he said for a couple of seconds before responding.  "Yeah, sure thing.  I'd love to come to one of your meetings."  I've known him for all but a few hours, but I'm in a jam, so I decide to ask him: "hey, do you think you might be able to hook me up with a relatively inexpensive apartment?  I've been up all night and I'm beat, man."

"Hey no problem. I've got some band members staying over at my place. No problem unless you mind sleeping on a couch that is."

He takes you on a walk, and keeps waving the dreamcatcher.  Occasionally it jiggles, and he always notes down the time and place it jiggles. After a while it jiggles less.

"Morning sun is driving away the traces."

About another mile, and he leads you into what is clearly a pretty crummy apartment complex.  Pieces of trash line the roadways, and that angers your host enough that he picks up two armloads worth to take the dumpster.

He then takes you up to the room which is seven hundred square feet of pizza boxes, drum gear, and dirty clothing tossed everywhere, along with five sleeping guys.

He points out a couch...

PT

"Hey, thanks, man.  Oh, where's your bathroom?"  When he tells me, I walk off to it and close and lock the door.  If it's a communal bathrooom in the apartment, I go to that.  Okay, he's given me a room, but I still don't know him.  Trust him?  Definetely not yet.  Gathering my energy, I summon the water sprite.  When it appears, I tell it to watch over me as I sleep and, if anyone tries to harm me or take any of my stuff, to wake me.  But, beyond all else, to stay out of site and keep quiet.

That done with (assuming it works), I hide the sprite in my backpack as I walk over to the couch.  I set the backpack down, open enough for the sprite to see out, and then I lie on the couch myself and proceed to try to catch some sleep.

Later, not having had enough sleep, but enough to be funtional, you are awakened by people moving around desultorily, and making wisecracks to each other.  You crack open your eyelids, and see someone putting the boxes of pizza on the floor, and checking a bowl to see if it is clean, and then getting out a bag of Warlock Wheats, and some milk while another guy totes in a guitar, and another is standing across the room mumbling something about coffee, and yawning with a giant display of throat and teeth, before scratching under his arms.

Two others are still sleeping solid, and the alarm clock reads "10:00".  Morning light comes harshly through the dirty window, not well stopped by the half unhung curtain as the smells of old pizza fight for preeminence against the reek of old beer.

PT

I push my hair out of my eyes and sit up groggily.  I look down to my backpack where the sprite is and send him away quitely, thanking him for his service.  I pull myself off of the couch and stumble towards the kitchen.  Once there, I look for some semblence of a clean liquid and drink a glass.

blege...food...behrttyh... I sit down at the table and look for a bowl and a spoon, joining the guy eating the Warlock Wheats.  "Hey... you seen Mike?"  I ask the guy getting cereal.

"He's in the shower, man." You have to use a tablespoon as they are all out of clean teaspoons, but the food is serviceable.  A few minutes later you hear shower, and then five minutes later, you hear the buzz of an electric razor.

"Dude has some serious hair issues." One of the 'sleepers' whose laying sprawled on a mattress on the floor to your right mumbles.

"Yah." Your fellow wheaties muncher agrees.

A few minutes later, and Mike comes out, freshly dressed, and shaven, and looking rather perky compared to everyone else.  He's bouncy with a wild energy, and soon is yanking mattresses out from under sleepers, and telling everyone what a great show that was last night. At first people groan, but soon enough his energy spreads, and the band starts to perk up, and smile, and act alert.

You feel a lot better too.

PT

I crack my neck from side-to-side, stretching it out.  Finishing off my bowl of cereal, I slurp up the rest of the milk and then dump the bowl and spoon into the sink.

Cracking my back, I turn to face Mike.  "Hey man, thanks for letting me stay here."  Scratching out the last of the sleep out of my eye, I look around at the other guys a bit closer.  "Hey, who are you guys, anyways?"

"Um, we're like the band 'Wild Thing', we do Celtic rock.  A little dulcimer, a little drum, some harp, amplified of course.  I'm the lead singer. We do bars and Rennfaires, and private parties too.  I'm Keith, you may have heard our song, Skydust?"

His face is faintly pathetic with need of being recognized.

"Its about how you can see the dust from the factories in the sky some evenings. Rotten polluters."

"Um, Mike gives us a place to crash when we are in Motown doing a bar because he believes in our cause." A guy who has begun tuning the harp says. "He says its his duty to his goddess."

"It is. You are bards to inspire the warriors to fight for the Earth against the Dark Forces whose presence pollutes her."  Mike says from the doorway with  a frying pan full of bacon.  Whatever he is, he isn't a vegetarian.

PT

"Ah, okay," I say as Keith finishes talking.  I notice Mike walking in with bacon, and my mouth begins watering.  Man... I can't remember the last time I had bacon.  "Hey," I ask him.  "Mind if I have a couple pieces of that?"  As well, to the rest of them: "so what religion do you follow, then?  Cause the only religion I truly know of that worships a goddess is wicca, or posibly some older pagan ones."

"I'm an Odinite." One guy says, showing you his hammer on a necklace.

"Goddess Christian." Another says, and then explains further. "We think the early Church drew too much on its masculine side, and threw out its feminine influences."

"I don't worship. Just like to save the Earth, and play cool music." He shrugs.

"I am Wiccan, but I don't believe in Powers outside our heads.  Its just a mindtrip we play on ourselves, a very useful one, though."

"Wiccan too, but I definitely believe in Mother Earth.  The Planet is alive."  The last is said with some fervour perhaps to make up for the dry intellectualism of the preceding person.

That covers the band, and you are eating some bacon on your plate when Mike speaks up.

"I worship Diana, goddess of the hunt. Which means among other things I think we need to get back to a hunter/gatherer society to make things sustainable.  And I only eat what I kill. And that way, we avoid Soylent Green, or being tainted by the Dark Forces."  Mike says.

PT

"Ah, okay," I respond between mouthfulls of bacon.  Sweet... sweet glorious bacon sent from the gods... sweet, sweet bacon...  "Yeah, I've been wondering if you could explain what you mean by the Dark Forces more.  And," I say to the one who's Goddess Christian.  "That religion sounds kinda kooky.  In the Bible, God is always referred to as "He" or "Him."  So... yeah..."

The Goddess Christian interupts.

"Well, yeah, but the writers were all from a patriarchical society so they were writing what they expected, not exactly what the Divine was trying to communicate to them. Besides, there is the Lady Wisdom mentioned in the Old Testament which we think is a reference to the Divine's female side."

He looks up at you seriously from shovelling bacon into his mouth, and the others restrain groans.

"Haven't you ever wondered why so many bad and horrible things happen? Why the Keithtown Massacre, the Mall of America collapsing, the Dredgetown Ghettoes where there are family lines that go back a hundred years and no one has ever been anything but a criminal, and yet the police seem helpless to stop it? The dozens of serial killers every year who don't get caught? The repeated bizzarre ritual sacrifices? And I'm not talking about someone killing a bull either."

The others groan out loud now until he snarls at them, and suddenly they are all busy looking away.  You feel the hair on your neck rise, and are surprised to see your hand shaking in the wake of his flash of anger.

"There are things out there. Things cursed of every god, Diana hunted them. Thor smote them, the Christ threw them into Hell. And they enjoy human suffering.  The Pit is one of their hangouts."

One of the others waves his hand near his temple in the universal sign of 'k-razy', but not where Mike can see him.

"If you want to know more. Come at midnight to the gate of the Sand Dunes State Park."

PT

I pause in eating and sit back in my chair, a little taken back by what he's saying.  Not knowing how to treat this, I decide to take a more diplomatic route.  "Okay, sure.  Well... if I have time, I guess I'll check it out."  The others were making me more nervous about the Goddess Christian than he was.

"I don't know... I do kinda have work then, and the money's nice... I'll talk to Gavin, I guess."  I shrug my shoulders and go back to my bacon.

OoC: Eh... I'll get back into the swing of things in a couple days, hopefully.

Mike O'Neill, the Cage guy, and the Diana worshipper, your 'friend', grabs you by the arm, and escorts you out the door.  You struggle, but its like effortless for him.

Once the door is closed, he turns to you with anger filling his face, and for some reason, you feel your heart thundering, and terror racing through your veins.  Its not like he's that much bigger than you, and you're in an apartment complex.  Why down the street you can hear someone opening a dumpster, and through another wall you can hear ...

"Its the Days of Our Lives".

But still, your fingers are trembling as he gets into your face.  In the back of your brain, you note that something is going on, you should not be practically ready to run screaming in terror, especially not with your being a verser who has held a giant windmill in a wind storm, braved Nazi troopers, and fought a sorcerous duel and a duel with swords.  You're an immortal sorcerer, but standing here, you're almost ready to puke in terror.

"Gavin?  Talk to Gavin? Are you insane? Have you not been listening?  He is the Darkness."

"Then explain this darkness."  I try and steady myself, but I feel myself slipping.  I put one foot against the wall to steady myself as much as I can, but it doesn't help much.  "Listen, he may be the darkness, but... man... I'm working for him and all... he leant me money when I needed it and he barely knew me..."  I shake my head slowly, still trying to get this feeling of impending doom out of my head.  "Okay, fine, whatever, I'll come tonight, sure..."  Moving my hand up to the side of my head, I rub my templem.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:17, Tue 17 Jan 2006.

"He lent you money? Hmmh. I can only say he's doing it for some bad purpose."  The rage in his face subsides, and so does your urge to puke, and the pounding of your heart.

"Look, I'm sorry I flipped out on you.  Its because I care.  This world is going to pieces, and no one is willing to fight those who profit from the destruction.  I don't want to see you smashed either, at least not without a chance to fight back."

He pats you lightly on the shoulder, near the spot that still hurts from his incredibly strong grasp, and smiles.  He turns to the band members at the door who've just come out to investigate the shouting.

"Its cool, guys. Sorry.  Its cool."

PT
OOC: What are you going to do about your job tonight, and what do you plan to do today?

Glad that's over...  "Yeah, I suppose I'll come tonight... if Gavin asks or something I'll just say I'm sick... I dunno, we'll see what happens."  I shrug and return to the table to finish my bacon.  Finishing that, I excuse myself, sling my backpack over my shoulder and make my leave from the apartment.

Stepping out into the street, I realize I don't have much to do.  Not having a better idea, I decide to try and find a secluded spot to summon a sprite.  Perhaps it will be able to inform me of what's happening in Lakraine.  The chances are slim, but possibly.

OoC: Has Gavin ever given me a way of contacting him outside of the Pit?

You find a small, ratty park with syringes  dotting the clay and lumps of grass.  A rust-red merry-go-round, and some swings with their seats torn out form the remainder of the tripod of 'fun'.  The park benches are stone, and sprayed over with gang grafitti, and pocked with bulletholes.

"Hope Park" is a tiny, sheltered spot in the concrete dessert.

You summon your fire and water sprites.

"Master."  They both say in unison as they float before you.

"Lakraine?"

They shrug, but the fire sprite says.

"The Prophecy remains true."

PT
OOC: No.

Huh?  A look of confusion comes over my face as I look at the sprite.

"What do you mean the prophecy remains true?  What... am I still alive over there?  Or has someone else taken over?  What?"

"You are the Heir of the Prophecy. The Prophecy remains true. The Will of the Awe cannot be circumvented by such a little thing as death."  The fire sprite ripples.  "That was the message I was given. I don't know any more than that. Only I trust the Awe.  He or it has never lied in all our histories. But it does not often condescend to explain itself.  We ask it questions, it appears to listen, but it does not answer, or so it seems."

You look up at a noise, and you see a little ten year old boy on the other side of the chainlink fence about forty feet away staring at you with an open mouth.  Your sprites turn to see him, and both disappear.

PT

Ah, shizzle... this could either be really good or really, REALLY bad...  I stand up and push my backpack a bit further up my shoulder.  "Hey kid," I say to him as I start to walk over.  I put a smile on my face, hoping to not scare him off to his parents or someone before I can twist his memory.

"How you doing?"  I stop a few feet from him on the other side of the fence.  If I can get him to stay, I plan on asking him what he thinks he saw.  Then, possibly, to explain what it 'really' was.

"Been better."  He shrugs. "Don't try anything freaky on me."  He pulls up his thin coat jacket to reveal a .38 revolver stuck in his waistband.  Then he shoves the coat back down.

"Hey do that again, Mr. Magic Man, call back the little fire guy."  He gives you a hopeful smile.

PT

"What little fire guy?"  I cock an eyebrow at him.  "All I did was finish off my smokes, kid."  I gave the kid a look like he was crazy, hoping to convince him there was no "little fire guy."

If he continues to be stubborn, I'll casually remark on how far away he is compared to where I was.

"Adults are stupe. They don't notice whats happening right in front of them. I got eyes, I use them. I saw a fire guy."

You make your remark, and he smirks at you.  Then he starts walking away.  Its obvious he's not the type of kid to go to the police or the news and say "I saw magic..." but its also obvious he doesn't believe you.  In fact as he walks away he gives you the Hawaiian Gesture of Illwill over his shoulder.

PT

I shake my head.  Whatever, big deal, I doubt anyone would believe the kid if he told, and if people did believe him, I don't think it would matter in this world...

I find my way out of the park and begin walking down the street, mulling over things I could do to pass the day.  Deciding it might be fun, I decide to go to one of those Wiccan temples and see what it's about.

There is a parking lot, and a small office area that looks normal, and then there is a small circular dome supported by pillars, and a lot of surrounding trees, and open areas.

They are not having a service right now, but they do have a few people, a secretary, a gardener, and a Wisewoman and a Man in Black on the premises...both the spiritual leaders are junior rank, of course.

PT

Hitching my backpack into a more comfortable position, I make a mental note to adjust the straps when I have the chance.

I walk over to one of the spiritual leaders (whichever is closer) and ask if they could possibly explain their viewpoints a bit more.

The young man with black robes smiles gently as you come up.

He explains their views which allow the worshipping of a number of different goddesses of the Greek and Roman traditions, or of Mother Earth.  Although he ruefully notes that sometimes there can be very harsh arguements between adherents of different goddessess.

"I suppose in that way, we are like the Protestants with all their denominations.  However Wiccans in other countries don't have quite the same degree of difficulties.  I think its partially an American thing.  Still, we are a new, and quite flexible tradition, with ancient roots, so things can change rapidly."

He talks about their rules of ethics, which seem to be more in the nature of guidelines than rules.  Its more of a 'make up your own mind, but keep in mind while doing so these factors' type of thing.

He then goes on to talk about a wide array of magics, books of shadows, crystal use, and so on.

And then he ends with a bit of history.

"We believe that Gaia created this world.  But that the Shadow came and imprisoned her, and actively works in this world today to keep her tied down, but that we in our lives can free her, and that eventually she will be freed, and the Shadow will kneel at her feet, a prisoner for all time with none to plead its cause."

PT
OOC: And my actual knowledge of Wiccan lore is pretty slim, but I have read a bit, and modified it for this world...since in this world Darkness has more power than in ours.

I nod my head, taking in what he says.  As soon as he mentions new religion with ancient roots, I laugh in my head.  Contradiction... that wasn't hard to find.

When he finishes, I tell him I'm interested in Wicca and was wondering if he could possibly show me some magic.

OoC: No prob.  I study these things and I still don't know a great deal about Wicca.

He smiles.

"It doesn't work like that. First most magic is stuff that you can sense, or not sense, but unlike television shows, it doesn't usually show up in great, glittery fountains of light.  However..."

He takes you over to the Wise Woman, and says that they are going to read your Tarot.

They set you down at a chair across a coffee table on a porch.

The girl pulls out her deck.  Its obviously special.  Silver and gold letters on the back, and its just beautiful.

"This is for who you are."

Sorcerer, Knight of Swords, Death

"Unusual. Do you have a penchant for getting into dangerous situations, and changing them? At personal risk?"

Your future comes next.  Its five cards.

Four Deaths, and one Wolf card.  And then she draws out another card even as her arm trembles, and she seems to fight drawing the card.  Its the Tower struck by Lightning.

She looks at you with sadness.

"You, you are surrounded by Death on one hand, and the Wild on the other, and the only way through is the Tower, and still, you...well change at least.  Is there something you want to tell me, for in truth, this deck only has three death cards in it."

PT

I keep my face neutral, but inside my mind is racing.  Oh great, oh great, oh great, oh great, ooooooh great... this is fun...  "Well... I get into trouble a fair bit, but nothing I can't handle."  I notice my lower jaw is twitching a bit, and I try to stop it before I continue.

"I really don't know what to say... I mean, sure, I get into fights every once in a while... but... this thing's gotta be rigged.  I mean, come on, it's just carnival future telling."  I laugh, but it's weak and I think they realize it.  I highly doubt that it was rigged, and the cards have fazed me.  I excuse myself from them to try and find a place to calm down.

OoC: Four death!?  o_O  There's only one in the usual deck, but okay... I get the point, lol.

She has a very large, over-sized deck, but even then she's drawing more 'Death' than are supposed to be in the deck.

The Wisewoman gives you a cold stare, filled with authority.

"Hardly. Now sit."

Then she begins to lay down more cards.  You find yourself sitting not exactly what you wanted to do.

"This is your past."

A woman whom even as you look at it resembles people you knew on Earth, and then the Tower and Death, and a Horse, and the Tower again (and you can see yourself holding the windmill down in the storm), and Death, and the Knight of Swords, and here you see yourself facing Nazi's, and Death again, and then a Sorcerer and Lovers and Death again.

"Well, you've had a busy life, my young friend."  The Man in Black says from his couch.  "Is there something you want to tell us? Do you need help?"

PT

I sigh at them.  "Possibly..."  Man, what should I tell these people?  Are they going to think I'm freaks, or what?  And are they with the "darkness?"  This is so confusing...

I decide I might as well go with it.  "Does your religion encompass alternate... dimensions... worlds... universes... whatever you want to call them?"

OoC: I could debate that deck for hours but okay.  Most people aren't interested in the occult like me.  :P

The Wisewoman nods.

"There are other planes.  Some are physical, some mental, some more real or more true than ours, and even some that are temporary.  When we speak of Gaia being chained in the Earth, we don't really mean if you dug deep enough you'd find Gaia, but that the gate to her place of imprisonment is under the Earth."

"Olympus, Valhalla, Elysium Fields...these are all quite real."  The Man in Black says.  "What you're trying to hint at is that you come from another plane, correct?"

They seem quite composed about this, although intense.

OOC: Feel free to enlighten me a bit...I have a Tarot wielding side character in Worldwalker novel.

PT

"Well... not quite," I say slowly after gathering my thoughts.  "I mean... I come from earth originally... just my earth is a lot different than this one.  It was strange... one day I just died, then I was somewhere else... rinse and repeat a couple of times and I'm here now."  I shrug my shoulders.

"Honestly I don't know a lot about this.  All I know is there are more than just me who are doing this.  And there are other... worlds I suppose you would say."

OoC: There are a few goods sites out there.  You can try these:

History - http://www.tarothermit.com/ (also contains rules on the actual Tarot game)

Meanings and Spreads - http://www.serenapowers.com/tarot2.html

Decks - http://freeware.esoterica.free.fr/html/freecards.html (these are basically decks people have made, I use one of them)

Tarot is really about the cards and personal interpretation (for example: the tower - yes there's a bad thing happening, but the base is still there: there's still hope).  I've been doing it for a good year or so now and I realize how little I truly understand the cards.  It doesn't help that my printer's bust, I lost both my decks (one of which was homemade and took hours), and I know of nowhere to get another one.  >_<

"That explains your past.  You may have come from one of the other realms.  How is it different from this one?  And there is your future cards.  It seems you are to die again, but that also death and the wolf surround you.  The wolf is a symbol of the wild and of primal urges.  Death can be transformation or simply other."


OOC: Well, the tower in one is a reference to a literal tower in your history...the 2000 foot windmill.

I do have a deck that we won at a convention...the Silicon Valley Tarot.

Thanks for the links.  I do need to study this a little bit.

PT

I shrug my shoulders.  "How is it different?  First of all religions like wicca are looked down upon.  Stuff like magic is seen as mere trickery.  You're not going to find animal sacrifices in public, let alone a kid's park or whatever.  Overall it's just nicer, too..."

"Well," I say after a couple seconds.  "Any suggestions on what I should now?"

OoC: Of course.  I was just saying you have to interpret the cards based on the question asked and/or where they land in the thread.  If the tower lands in a "past" spot, then it can generally be assumed to mean troublesome events in the past.  In the future, it could mean troublesome events in the future, but nothing that the person can't handle if he/she deals with it properly.  Stuff like that.  And it also changes depending on the deck (I learnt with the Waite-Rider deck meanings).

And I'd love to get an actual deck.  :P  You're lucky... those things aren't cheap.

They are fascinated.  They suggest that you could talk to one of the senior priests or priestesses.  You could cast some spells with them seeking guidance.  You could visit in one of their cottages, and spend a few days in meditation seeking answers.  The lady also knows a fortuneteller who is known to be powerful, even if she is not Wiccan.

PT

I thank them for their offers.  "Unfortunately, though, I don't really have the time to spend a few days in meditation."  I shrug my shoulders.  That's becoming a habit... kooky.  "So is there a senior priest or preistess I could talk to right now?  Or howabout that fortuneteller?"

The seniors are off today, although the Wisewoman will be back next morning for the dawn service.

The junior wisewoman goes and fetches a business card, and gives it to you.

They both pray for you, and you do feel fortified and protected as you leave the peaceful sanctuary against the harsh world.

A taxi ride later, and you pull up in front of Madame Harmony's small blue-painted house in an older section of the city.  Here houses are perhaps eight hundred square feet, and have about three feet between them.  Chain link fences and "Beware of dog" are everywhere.

Indeed several large dogs growl at you.

You enter the fence, and a pure white cat walks up to you, and demands to be petted.  Once up on the rickety porch, you see the screen door is closed, but the inner door is open.

You reach up to knock...

"Come in Malachai. I've been expecting you."

PT

Madame Harmony?  Her knowing I'm coming?  Either she's just putting on a show or her whole life is one big cliche.  I step into the house and look around, trying to notice everything while keeping my gaze swift and smooth.  If I can see her I go and say hi.  If not I step in further to look for her.

OoC: I have a white cat.  ^_^  Except he's got orange on him, too.

You don't see her until you step in.  Her room is not lit, and it is filled with dozens of tiny little cat figurines, and turtle figurines, and so forth.

"I'm allergic to cats, but I love them so."  The young woman says from her rocking chair as she paints a figurine.  "And no, Malachai, my real name isn't Harmony, but we all need a trade name.  And just to make things clear, I've seen you come into that door in twenty different ways, and in my small way, I've tried to arrange things so that you come into that door in a way that is beneficial to both of us."

PT

She's trying to cloud my mind...  I mentally put up a barrier.  She may mean well, but I've heard people talk like this before.  Reminds me of that carnival fortune teller I visited when I was 14...  "Cats are nice," I agree as I roll my eyes around the room one more time.

"Do you know why I'm here, then?  And can you help?"

You have your mental barrier up, and she laughs.

"I can see the effort on your face.  The thing is, I don't read your mind.  I see a variety of futures, including ones where you tell me your name, or ones where you tell me to get out of your mind, and thus I know your name, and that you are trying to block me now.  I can't tell you what you are here to do, your purpose.  I am a humble fortuneteller who can advise you on the end results of certain decisions, but those decisions are yours to make.  I do have preferences, but other than the most obvious, such as the several futures where you come in, and burn me alive, I try not to impose my will on the Future.  Powerful beings such as yourself tend to get angry, and I am merely trying to survive.  I would not speak against you, or anyone else of such power, master magician."

You can see she is genuinely afraid, although you're not sure of what.

"I first noticed you when Gavin came, and asked me for his monthly reading.  I saw how great a significance you would have in his existence.  So I warned him of that.  And he and his associate, Jackson, waited for you."

PT

So she's the reason Gavin lent me the money?  But how?  This is all very, very strange.  I grin at the woman.  Might as well go with the flow.  "I wouldn't call myself a master magician, you know.  I died trying to, but did you know that?"  I look around for a seat and take on if its available.  "So what can you tell me about my future, seer?"

"You've got an unusual degree of freedom, magician, more than most people, but you are constrained on one side by Gavin and on the other side by your friend who told you about Soylent Green. I told Gavin you would be important in his life, which is not entirely true. You could walk away, leave the city, and avoid all this.  You have a space of two days in which to do that.  After that, you cannot be disentangled short of death."

She sighs, and looks over at a calendar on the wall.

"I have to keep reminding myself what day it is now.  I spend so much time in other times that I lose track of the present.  You cannot be friends to Gavin and to the Soylent Green guy.  You must choose one or the other.  I don't want to tell you about them because that goes against my principle of self-preservation, but suffice it to say magician, that you don't want to be in a small room with either of them angry.  Since I don't want to make Gavin angry at me, I will point out that in the timelines where you help him achieve his dreams, he will reward you with wealth and power beyond your wildest dreams.  Go with him, and I see one timeline, the best of them for you, with you standing and taking the oath of office of the Presidency in 2050.  Amusing. You don't look any older than then now. You are a master magician to have created an immortality potion."

PT

Immortality?  That's probably due to me being a verser.  Never taken anything that would cause something like that, but who knows.  Maybe it was something from one of the other worlds.  "Death..." I say slowly.  "I stopped fearing death my past life.  Now I merely go with it, knowing that I will continue."  I laugh.  "Being immortal isn't all it's cracked up to be: dying hurts.  As for those choices... I thank you for showing me them."  As of right now, I'm not sure who to go for.  Power is always nice... but at the expense of others?  That isn't right, it goes against everything I stand for.

I trap air between my teeth and lips, balooning them out slightly.  After pulling the air back in, I continue.  "What can you tell me of the darkness?  And what do you see of the 'Soylent Green guy' as you put it?"

"The Darkness as some call it.  Others consider it a higher form of man. They call it the Ultimate.  It is a predator, or you might say a parasite, depends on who you are talking too.  There are many.  After all, most of the poor people who end up being counted as statistics for serial killers end up in reality going to those who make up the Darkness.  Of course, they would point out that they offer far more to Humanity than some trivial life, and it is better to throw aside a taxi cab driver, than someone with centuries of culture and sophistication.  The Ultimate Humans are afraid of death, despite their claims of immortality.  This is the gift you bring, master magician. I can see that now.  You could make the Darkness truly immortal.  You would be celebrated in song and story for tens of thousands of years."

She leans back and rocks a bit in her chair.

"The other, he is like wildfire.  He goes into the forrest, and not even my vision can follow him there.  There are magics in the state forest for its a forest that extends back to the time of Noah.  Let me tell you a story of long ago. One day, Noah got into his ark with his seven other humans, and the animals, and the ark was closed.  The thing is, what the Christian legend doesn't say is that others were on the ark as well.  Which I suppose makes sense as the Bible was written for the Children of Adam, and it did not dwell on the others.  Some slumbered on the seabeds, and others rode in the ark as well."

You can tell she would like to be plainer, but her chief goal is to not say something that someone else might interpret as against them, and then have revenge on her.

PT

I nod my head slowly as she speaks, taking it in.  This Darkness sounds a little... off.  I suppose I'll have to say what the others say about it tonight.  And I suppose I'll have to be careful they don't capture me or something...

"All right.  I thank you for your words."  I brush my bangs aside and look at her face again.  "Is there anything else I should know before I go on my way?"

She shakes her head.

You leave, and later that day make your way to the State Forrest.  The Sand Dunes Park is along the shoreline.

The taxi driver that takes you out her opines that this is a weird place.

"Every few years, there comes a push to build a resort here, but nothing ever comes of it. I wish they would.  Its spooky out here."

You pay him, and then begin walking along the road which is overlain by a fine layer of white sand.  On both sides of the road, sand and small little hummocks of tightly packed grass.  The wind blows the smell of dead fish, and you feel very alone out here outside the city.

Somewhere out here is your meeting place, and then you see a cardboard sign.

"Temple Fire Circle ---->"  It seems to be what you're looking for, although it leads off the road,and down by the lake, and out of the lights.

PT

Great, I think as I stop and look around the beginning of the trail.  No light... that's just awesomely amazing...  Looking around, I find a decently sized stick.  After finding one, I summon the fire sprite and ask him to light the stick on fire.  After that, I put a couple spares into my backpack and then let the sprite go and begin walking down the path.

OoC: Forest... stick... don't even try saying I didn't find one.  ¬_¬

You take your torch, and wander on down to the beachside, and there you see a group of people hanging out near a campfire.  Someone is strumming a guitar, singing about the destruction of the Earth.  You can see that several of the people have huge masks on, animal masks.

And then you realize someone is standing next to you.  Somehow he got up close to you without your noticing it.

He's tall.  And his face is dark, as are his clothes.  He tosses something from his hand, a formless mass that spreads, and the fire of your torch goes out.

"Thankye kindly sirrah, for leading us to this heathen nest of vipers."  The voice is heavily accented, almost un-understandable, and you realize its Jackson, Gavin's right hand man.

"Wait ye now a trifle."  He chuckles in anticipation looking at the camping circle.

PT

Ah, ****... I suppose I'm either going to have to go along with the darkness or die.  I look around me, surveying my options.  I suppose I'm dying...

"Run!" I yell quickly to the group ahead in the camping circle.  Spinning around, I pull out my knife and slash along the belly of Jackson, aiming to eviscerate him.  It's hard to see, but it's not hard to tell where he is.

Following the blade slash, I aim to kick him in the knee and then roll backwards.  Afterwhich I will attempt to summon my fire sprite and get it to light as much of the forest on fire as possible.

OoC: You hate me.  ¬_¬

You slam the blade into his stomach, thoroughly catching him off guard, and he doesn't move, or 'oof'.  Your leg connects with his knee, and it like kicking a wooden table leg.

The group on the beach lurches upright, and the singer changes his tune to "We Will Rock You" as you feel a palpable wave of rage reach across the beach and fold you into itself.  Suddenly your foot doesn't hurt anymore.

"Feelish mortal. Ye've chizen puirly." Jackson rumbles, and rips a branch off of a tree. Its several inches thick, and about ten feet long. "They're not e'en men. Chillun ov Lilith they be."  His accent is still incredibly thick.

And then Kyrio is there, and you can see fangs coming out of Jackson's mouth.  And Jackson throws back his face, and shields his eyes.

PT

OOC: Bored now?  :)

I look at the branch Jackson has just ripped off in amazement.  Now that just isn't... maybe this wasn't the best choice...  The fangs just prove how human he is.

I roll backwards, keeping my knife up to defend myself.  The dirt on the trail gets over my pants, but that doesn't matter, they can be cleaned.  What matters is getting out of here alive (Well, that's secondary) and figuring out what exactly is happening here.

Seeing a chance, I swing my blade low, aiming to slash across Jackson's calf and then roll along.

OoC: Nope.  ^_^

Errr... who's Kyrio?  It would help to know who, cause if he's with Jackson then my post would be different...

You dive, but have to veer off when he swings his impromptu quartestaff your way.  Still it jolts you, and spins you twice before you come to rest at the lake's edge.

He's more than humanly strong. Considerably more.

Kyrieo, your fire sprite, buzzes past you.

"Magician, if you know the magic, your water sprite can help you breathe water, and swim away.  This is a creature of the Fire that is Cold."

Out on the beach you see the campers fighting with poles and bats against what seem to be humans, but after a bat goes up one's head, and it gets up instantly after being knocked down, you decide they are not human.

And there's one there, who seems a match for the invaders in their stylish suit jackets.  He's tall, almost giantish, furry, and his face is shaped not at all like a human, and you see him grab one of the suit jacketed people, and rip his arm off.

PT

"I don't!"  I answer my sprite furiously.  Now would be a very nice time to learn, though.  I close my eyes and breathe quickly, calming myself, before I summon my water sprite and dismiss Kyrio.  "All right," I tell the water sprite quickly when he appears.  "Never tried this before, but you're going to help me breathe underwater.  So... let's go!"

Hyperventalating quickly, I run into the water as far as I can and then go under, swimming away to... well... I'm not exactly sure, but away is always a nice choice.  If the magic doesn't work out I'm screwed, but I can always go to the surface for breath... hopefully.

OoC: Oh... well, then... :P

This is starting to sound like Underworld in a way. o_O

You sprint into the water, after summoning the water sprite.  Jackson laughs at you saying something about where can you go, but then he stops as he realizes he's dealing with a magician.

Yup, ol' Jackson's not the brightest lamp in the lamp store.

Your water sprite spins around you, and you sink into the waves, and then you hear...

"Sorry, master." Gurgles out from the sprite as you find yourself floating into the air, surrounded by house sized balls of water that are also floating randomly about you.

The battle on the beach halts as everyone turns to stare at your work in drop-jawed amazement.

PT
OOC: Yes, thats a botch, and you are in zero-gravity...which doesn't mean you can fly, exactly.

Ho... ly... crap...  I look around myself in amazement.  "That's okay," I say slowly to the sprite, my eyes wide and trying to take in what just happened.  "I think we may try this again at some time..."

Quickly the realization dawns upon me that I can't really move that well.  Fun... I'm only a total sitting duck here if Jackson realizes that I can't control this... gotta make it look like I can.  Trying to figure out a way to move, I begin blowing hard, seeing if that would work.

OoC: Can I get a **** yeah?  **** YEAH!!

Your blowing moves you slightly, as does the breeze, but cruising at one mph is problematic.

Looking down at the beach, you can more clearly see your Soylent Green buddy, or more precisely his man-wolf form.  He takes advantage of the distraction to leap across the fire, and with one clawed hand rip off one of the attacker's heads.  You can see a couple of the campers are stretched out on the beach...not moving.

Jackson roars at you.

PT
OOC: And that is  a magic anomaly. Inspiration for this world is the same inspiration for the Underworld movie...the World of Darkness from White Wolf.  Of course this world has had some serious modifications.  One the vampires are considerably tougher, and two magic is easier to do, and there are some other critters and so on in the night I've been told (this is not a world I created).

Weeeee!  So much fun, I tell myself, rolling my eyes.  "Errr," I say to Kyrio.  "Any chance of you getting me down from here?  I mean... this isn't very fun."  I look around neverously, especially at Jackson.  Not knowing what else to do, I pull out my knife.

If he throws something, I'm going to have to (somehow) try twisting my body around and avoiding it, or at least deflecting it as much as possible.  "Sooner the better, Kyrio," I say through clenched teeth.

OoC: Ah, figures.  The two coolest spells I've done (this and the water stream) have both been from botches.

o_O

I'm the king of botches!  All fear me and my botchy-ness!

The water sprite begins to tug you away, but slowly.

"If you wish to move faster, then you must cast a spell of water with my help."

Jackson is looking up at you with intent interest.  Then he turns to look at the ten foot branch in his hand, and then back up at you.  You can see an idea forming in slo-mo across his mind.

PT

Ah, shoot shoot shoot... this is going to turn out very bad very very quickly now.  Desperately, I try and remember what I did for that water stream back in Lakraine.  "All right," I say quickly, adrenaline speeding my speech up.  "Let's try this.  On three... one... two... three!"

Hopefully it works; if it doesn't I'm screwed right, left, and upside-down.  Twice.

The jet soars from your fingers, and flings you away.  Jackson throws his branch after he ascertains your new direction, and it cartwheels across the sky, and smashes past your blocking arm which snaps like a twig, and then into your ribs.

The combined impetus flings you upward, and with black dots in your gaze, you come out of the zero-gravity area and begin to fall.

A fifty foot knifing dive into the lake waters takes you deep, but also out of Jackson's range.  However you have little air in your lungs because you could hardly draw breath, and the fall drove much of what you had out of your lungs.

Is this all she wrote for our intrepid hero?

PT
OOC: Sorry, about missing you several days.  The thread dropped below my screen viewing area, and, ah, aliens landed outside on my lawn...

"Ah, ****!"  I yell in pain as I cradle my broken arm and begin my descent.  And I thought I might've gotten out of that one, I think as I plunge into the water.

Wet... so wet... so very very wet...  Kicking, I try to force my way to the surface with what little strength I have left.  I don't know if it will work or not, but somehow I try to tell my sprite to try and allow me to breathe underwater again.

The water forces its way down my throat, and I quickly realize that I'm not going to last much longer.

OoC: That's worse than the excuses I give my piano teacher.

XD

How small is your resolution?  o_O

Suddenly the water tastes like clear air as it inches down your throat.  It enters your mouth as water, but near the back of your throat it thins, and by the time its past your tonsils its pure clean air.

You sputter a bit, and just hang there for a few minutes regathering your strength.

You were so very close to being dead again.  Your left arm is broken, and several ribs as well which makes things more difficult.  You can also see that the surface of the water is getting further away, and the water is darkenning.  Your clothes weigh you down so that you're not going to be able to float even with a lungful of air.

PT

Having no other option, I drop my pack and its contents and begin stripping off the rest of my clothes.  If possible, I try to keep my knife (and my underpants).  This is turning out really fun... but at least I can breathe.

Getting lighter, I begin kicking towards the surface again.

OoC: Not floating sucks.  V_V

It takes several minutes, but you breach the top of the lake clad in your skivvies, and a knife.

You hear a paddle slap against the side of a boat, and your water sprite whispers to you.

"Its the beast in man's shape, but he is in human shape now.  The one who talks about eating people.  Must be some sort of instinct to him."

And now looking, you can see the rowboat off about thirty feet as the man-beast and a friend search for you.

PT

Seeing them looking for me makes the pain in my arm go away for a second, but it quickly comes back as I instinctively raise it to call over to them.  Gritting my teeth, I continue to tread water and then raise my good arm and wave over to them.  "Hey!"  I yell.  "Over here!"  Seeing them take notice, I thank my sprite and send him on his way.

OoC: *hugs knife*  It's my friend.

The rowboat lurches your way, and then your friend leans out, and with one arm scoops you up out of the water, and into the boat.  Its more like someone slamming a sports car into gear, and accelerating than a human lifting someone up.

"Well, Malachai, it looks like we've all been keeping secrets."

Green says to you.  And then he tosses you a towel as you sit shivering.

PT
OOC: I'm going to call him Green or Cage because I can't remember his other name.

My teeth start knocking together as I wrap the towel around my shoulders as best I can, taking care not to bump my arm.  Gritting my teeth for a second, I try to push the pain away.  "Just a few," I say between breaths quickened from pain.  "I'll be happy to talk when I can use my arm again," I say sarcastically as my arm continues to throb.  My mind is starting to spin, and I realize I'm going into shock.  Great... just great.

OoC: Blaga... broken arms aren't fun.  I remember mine... only time I ever got morphine and I can't even remember that bit.  :P

Green takes over the oars and begins to rapidly pull for shore.  He's pulling hard enough on the oars to make them creak from the strain.

And then you're on the shore, and he picks you up.

"You two, go back onto the lake. Vampires don't like water. And its moving enough to be running water which is even better."

He then turns and you feel yourself turning inside out, your head peeling back...

And you're in grayness.

And then a repeat of the inside out.

"Fetch the pack mother."  He says from inside a small clearing in the forest.

PT

OOC: I've had two.  Once from some idiots who decided to jerk a line I was to swing from, and the other from ice skating and doing the TIMBERRRR! fall.

I blink slowly a few times, trying to get myself back into the real world.  "Wha... what happened?"  I croak out slowly before coughing a couple times and getting the cobwebs out of my throat.  "And who's the pack mother?  Where am I?"

OoC: Ouch... I actually vaulted over my handlebars on my bike to break mine.  I'm still confused as to exactly how it happened...

"I am the pack mother, young magician."  A woman strides into the clearing like a panther in human form.  Her face is harsh, not beautiful, but striking and handsome with predatory gray eyes.

"I am Annika.  Leader of the Children of Lilith who inhabit the woods near the abomination known as Motown."

Green sets you down, and the leaves crinkle under your feet, which they didn't under hers.  He then bows, presenting his neck to her, which she touches with a casual graze of her fingers, and then he stands.

"Child of Adam, this is not your forest.  Long have my people battled you and yours, and the Sons of Cain.  Tell me why I should not have you fertilize the trees."

Green starts to say something, and she raises one hand. He quiets.

PT

"Uhhh..." I stumble with words.  "Ummm... well... is not fully knowing what's going on but knowing Gavin is trying to kill me good enough?"  My arm is still throbbing, and I'm forced to clench my teeth just so that I don't scream out.

OoC: Weren't the Children of Lilith the vampires?  I'm thinking of VtM, I guess.

"So the vampire Gavin wants you dead. That is a good reason to spare you. Plus, your friend here practically has his fur standing up ready to fight for you, so I suppose we can let you live."

She reaches over, and begins to lick your arm.  Its more than a little creepy, and definitely exciting at the same time...until the bone shifts in your arm, and with a scream you pass out.

You wake up next to a campfire, deeper into the woods.

"Annika says you whimper like a pup. And you taste weird."

Your arm is whole, with a minor twinge to it, but thats all.

Green is sitting across the fire from you, occasionally dipping his turkey into the fire to singe it, and then going back to eat the almost raw bird.

PT
OOC: I think the were or some of them, and perhaps even some of the mages claim Lilith as a forebear.  In any case, this is inspired by them, but has a lot of its own definite differences, I guess.  And here, Lilith has nothing to do with the vamps...neither does she have anything to do with an eleven year old girl.

I sit up and rub my arm, still in a bit of shock.  "What happened there?"  I ask, still bewildered.  The raw turkey is slightly revolting, but at this point I don't really want to question why.  "I mean... back at the beach... and just now with Annika... and you, too..."

OoC: Okay, that'll work, I guess; there are a lot of different mythos, anyways.

"We, that is I, and a few initiates, supporters of our cause, were having a meeting.  They are human, or as Annika puts it, Children of Adam.  Thats the roll I had in mind for you.  Someone who helps out here and there in the great fight.  Gavin sent his demon wolf, Jackson and a bunch of ghouls to attack us.  Things got complicated."

He pauses.

"Annika can heal with the lick of her tongue.  You had a broken arm, and bruised ribs.  She used her power to coax your body into healing itself."

He stands up, and you realize he's taller than he had been before.

"As for me, I am a Child of Lilith. We have lived alongside humans for thousands of years, and many of us have no great love for them.  Neither do I for the most part, but I meet a few here and there who seem cool.  Like you. As for me, I can shapeshift at will into the man-beast as I am doing now, or into a dire wolf.  Conservation of matter is a serious pain in the neck.  I weigh the same in all my forms."

PT

My head spins slightly as I take it in, but not for long.  I've seen enough strange things (Lakraine...) that it doesn't affect me as much as it would have if this was the first world I had versed into.

"I think," I choke out slowly.  "I think that Jackson and them followed me to your meeting.  Heh, sorry about that."

OoC: And science applies to werewolves?  Pfft, that sucks.

He flexes his corded shoulders.  They don't look so much uber-muscled as skin covering steel cables.

He continues to shift into a man-beast form.

"You didn't know.  And besides, Jackson may be dim, but he's got four centuries of experience, at least.  We've got a woodcut of him attending one of Shakespeare's plays."

PT
OOC: I understand, but I think its an amusing shift.  I think thats original to me for this world, but I've read elswhere about such ideas.  It makes for a slightly more scientifically rigorous fantasy.  I think one of the cooler things MJ has for his werewolves, btw, is that they are practically invulnerable during an eclipse.

"Four... centuries?"  I whistle quietly.  "That's a fairly long amount of time to be around for..."  Watching him shift forms, I feel slightly envious in a way.  "So what are we supposed to do now, Green?"

OoC: Science, schmience.  It's all overrated.  <_<  >_>  nah, j/k, science rules... <_<  >_>

"I continue the Great Fight. You have to choose your role in that fight.  If you wish, you can enlist in the Pack of Annika, and work for her.  I don't know your abilities, where and how you would be most useful.  Now, if tommorrow night, you want to go on a patrol with me, wander the night streets, and try to pick off a ghoul...I could use a little help."

PT

I grin at him.  "Sounds like fun."  At this point I realized that I wasn't really wearing much.  "Errr... you possibly got any clothes I could borrow?  As for abilties... well... I suppose you saw a bit of my magic, but I'm probably better with a knife than magic at this point.  My training was ended... prematurely."

"Well a knife doesn't do much to a vampire.  I've dropped a roof top air conditioning unit on Jackson from three stories up.  Magic, I don't know.  I know they don't like fire, but its not as simple as dropping a Molotov cocktail on one.  They don't light easy.  Course, Annika says once they light, its pretty much over."

He shrugs.

"I can take a ghoul or two, or maybe one young vamp, but Jackson, well, I run.  Gavin is probably too much for me too, but he's hard to close with.  He's slick. And he carries a gun which I find unsporting."

He gets up.

"Let me go look. We're not much on clothes, and most of it has to be loose."

There's a gray patch in the air next to him, and he steps into it.  And then he and the gray patch are gone.

PT

Portal?  That's a new one...  I stand up, looking at where Green had dissapeared through the grey blob.  I take out my knife and look at it closely.  Hmm... perhaps this is one problem  you can't solve.  Sheathing my knife, I begin strolling around the fire slowly, stretching my legs and ensuring my arm's working fine again.

A few minutes later Green steps out of a gray mist in a slightly different location, and he has an armload of clothes.

Most don't fit at all, or are ripped, but you do find a gray jersey sweatshirt, and a pair of blue jeans which if you roll up the legs, they fit pretty well.

He then takes out a package which he held in his other hand.

Its leather, a knife, and a sturdy needle.  In the space of five minutes, he makes you a pair of moccassins.  He uses the knife to trim off leather 'threads', and heats the point to punch holes in the leather, and in general slices the pattern to match your foot.

"I sell these for a hundred bucks a pop, custom-made mocs at Renn Faires."

And then he pulls out a small beaded piece of leather, and stitches it onto your right moc, and does likewise to your left with another.

"Now, you should never lose them as you run, and you will be fleet."

Indeed, they fit your feet like they are clinging on.

PT

I walk around the camp for a few seconds, testing out the mocassins.  "Cozy," I tell Green.  "Thanks.  I suppose I owe you one."

OoC: I want to post more but I got nothing.  >_<

You and he settle down for the night, and you crash into sleep, after the excitement of the night, your body needs the rest desperately.

Your dreams are vivid and bizarre, with red dragons and Dairie Queens and pink Cadillacs dominating.

The next morn, the chirp of birds wakes you, and you see a banked fire, and some food on a skillet.  Potatoes, bacon, and some sort of unfamiliar vegetable medley.

A stone anchors a letter down.

"M., went to town. See you tonight, I'll find you.  We'll hunt. Go toward the rising sun to get out of the forest."

PT

I sit up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.  Goofy dreams... wonder what brought those on.  Yawning, I roll over to the food and begin munching as I fry the bacon (I'm assuming it's uncooked...).  After eating, I plan on taking Greens advice and heading east to get out of the forest.

OoC: Pink... Cadillacs... o_O

Don't really understand what you mean by a banked fire.

The meal is good, nothing like eating out in the great outdoors to add enjoyment to the simplest fare, and here out in the woods, the cloud of oppression on your spirit seems, if not gone, at least thinner, and less murky.

It takes a good hour of walking to reach the lake, and another half-hour to go around the lake, and then you're back in the city before ten in the morning.

There are more murders listed on the front page of the newstand.  Along with speculation about the oppressed status of individuals leading to them striking out in rage, and this being the probable cause of these murders.

In other words, support my political cause, and give me lots of money, and the murders will end, according to Mr. Clueless Expert.  You laugh bitterly.  Its easy to connect the dots of the several murders and imagine an enraged and injured Jackson heading home to the Pit, and stopping for snackies on the way, every few blocks as it were in a string of four murders.

Its with a sense of sickness, that you look at the newspaper's map, and spot an empty spot in the rhythm, a place where Jackson went seven blocks without a murder.

PT

"What the..." I look at the newspaper questioningly, trying to puzzle out why Jackson had stopped killing for that spread.  Perhaps he had entered vampire territory?  Who knows.  I think I'll go check that area out...

Having nothing better to do, I set off towards the area where Jackson had stopped killing; getting more cautious the closer I get to it.

You wander the streets, and the alleys, looking about for any threat, but the few gangsters in the area seem subdued.  Perhaps its the morning sun, or perhaps its some subconscious knowledge that a greater predator moved by recently.

And then you smell blood and guts from a dumpster you are passing.

A garbage can lid sails by your head.  And you look up, and see no one that could have thrown it.

PT

I duck and cover my head as the garbage can lid flies by instinctively.  "What the..." I say quietly.  I want to find out what's going on, so I begin walking towards the alleyway... slowly and carefully.

You step into the alley, and the hair on your arms raises.  You feel something in the air.  And then ozone, and a creak behind you, and the garbage can lid is sailing at your head.

A quick duck, and it richochets off the darkened brick walls of the alley before hitting the ground.

You see papers stirring and spinning into the air, surrounding you.  A tang fills the air.

PT

Okay, I got two choices here... keep going or turn around.  Turning around is the sane choice, but since when has that stopped me?

I continue walking through the alleyway in a partial crouch (not quite half-crouch), my hand on my knife, what good it might do.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:51, Fri 17 Feb 2006.

You advance into the alley as winds pick up, and begin shrieking down the alley.  Its at first indistinguishable, but then you can hear a human voice in the wind.  A voice of rage.

And then a girl is standing ten feet in front of you.  Her dress is long down to her ankles, and her sweater is from Starbucks, but she doesn't have any eyes, and behind them you can see stars that flame and burn.

Her fists are clenched tight enough to make her muscles vibrate.

The garbage can lid soars behind her, and then through her, and you try to dodge but it changes direction and slams into your gut.

"How long have I waited to be found? Was I so unimportant? My life did not MATTER!?!"

At the last her voice becomes a scream, and you hear a car window crack and an alarm go off behind you.

PT

I keel over, hissing and grabbing at my gut where the lid had hit it.  "What do you mean wait?  I didn't even know you were here!"  I stand up again, pulling my knife out.  I know the garbage can lid is behind me, but I don't want to take my eyes off the girl, either.  I settle for putting my back against one of the alley walls, and shifting my eyes from the girl and where the lid had supposedly headed.

"Well... I found you now.  And at this moment you're the most important thing in my life."  Not that I have much besides my life.  It's kind of a null choice between her and nothing.

She shrieks loud enough that your ears are ringing,and you cringe down to protect yourself.  A wind whips down the alley, and you look up as the noise ends only to see black fogs streaming off to the right and the left, passing through the dirty brick walls, and vanishing.

You're seemingly alone in the alley.  Your ears still ring.

PT

I shake my head, trying to clear the ringing from my ears.  What the heck was that?  I sheathe my knife shakily and stumble out of the alley, trying to right my internal balance mechanisms.

Getting out of the alley, I lean against the side of a building until the rining goes away.  As I lean there, I try and think of what I should do next.  Perhaps the alley again?  Well, why not... one more shot.

I poke my head around the corner to ensure that the alley is empty, and then walk back into it, more cautious than before.  If the girl shows up... well... I'm running.

The girl isn't there, and you begin to relax until you realize you can very clearly smell fresh blood.

A sheet of it seems to be running down the wall you are holding with one hand as you lean around the corner.

With your heart in your throat, you realize the tide of blood misses a few spaces, enough to form words.

"Vengeance.  I crave vengeance."

PT

And that's gonna be enough for me... maybe I'll just ask Green about this later...  I back away from the alley slowly, freaked out by the blood.  Once I'm a fair bit away, I turn around and continue walking, trying to slow my nerves and figure out what that was.

You review some facts in your head as you walk away.

It was in line with being a place where Jackson would have fed, but no body was discovered.

You smelled what could be a body in a dumpster.

The girl did not look human, and she shrieked about how long a time it took to find her.

She seemed superhumanly angry.

She had powers of yelling, telekinesis, and wind generation.

She was obsessed with vengeance.

Some black fog, which had some relation to her, passed through a wall.

Blood dripping down a wall.

PT
OOC: Feel free everyone to speculate on the nature of this girl on the OOC board.

So confusing... I shake my head slowly as I walk, looking for a bench of some sort where I could sit down and rest.  "What was that girl?"  So confusing...

OoC: By the way, I'm out of ideas of what to do to kill time now... so... meh.

You spend the rest of the morning visiting Ford Factory Museum, and the Sportscar Hall (also a museum), and lunch is pleasant by the lake, except for when the police cars come by to fish a dead body out of the lake.

In the afternoon, you meet some skateboarders, and practise your skills on some concrete stairs and ramps in a desolate square centered by a dry fountain, at least until the cops show up to run them off.  There are three cops, a bike, and a police car, and your other boarders are scattering like shrapnel, running from the police.

PT

Ah crap.  Taking a cue from everyone else, I begin running as well.  I head away from the cops as much as possible, but if I spot an alleyway, I'm going down there.  If they catch me... I think they're gonna have some questions about my knife.

They seem to focus on you, and you soon leave two of the cops behind as they pant and yell at you, but one cop seems inexhaustible, a veritable machine.  He runs, his breath steady, his color unchanged, and no sweat trickling down his face.

He's going to catch you because you're tiring out, a stitch is in your side, and the air is burning in your throat.

PT

What the heck is with this guy?  I shake my head and focus ahead, seeing what I can use in the environment to gain an advantage (throwing down garbage cans, hopping fences, etc.).

If I see something, I'm going to take it.  And if he catches up to me... well... I guess I'll try smoothtalking my way out of it.  Although, at this point, that doesn't seem like it will work that well.

You scamper over a wooden fence, and over another one, and keep on going, panting.

And then he stops chasing you.

"Malachai."  You can hear from over the fence.  "Come back."

The people in the back yard look up at you.  They seem to have been having a pool party for them and their friends.

You see one man reach under his chair, and start reaching for something...its a big man, not one you'd like to meet in a fight.  His nose is broken at least twice, and he looks profoundly dangerous.

But when a slim man pats him on the shoulder, he stops.

They're all staring at you.

PT

I skid to a halt and turn around, looking for whoever called my name.  "Yes?"  I say in-between quick breaths.  I lean forward slightly, trying to get my breath back.  I haven't ran like that in years...

I look around at the crowd, trying to figure out who they are.

"Fine, Malachai." You hear from over the fence as the slim man walks toward you.  He looks...like a homeowner, maybe an academic...

And then the fence splinters behind you.  The policeman kicks a hole in it.

He stands there, and you see his face.  Its one of the things that attacked the people on the beach.

You've seen one of them take a baseball bat to the  head, and they obviously don't get tired, and he just kicked his way in a couple tens of seconds through a sturdy wood ten foot tall fence.

Trouble is here.

"Malachai, Gavin wants to talk to you."

And then he freezes as he looks toward the others.

"Robert." The slim man commands. A shotgun blast hits the cop in the chest, and staggers him.

"Creature of the Outside, I cast you out, begone, in the name of the Almighty, leave."

The commanding words ripple out, and you see the cop crumple to his knees.  His face turns gray.  And then his hair begins to fall out.

"No, no."  He weeps as the demonic spirit which gave him power is driven out, and his years assert themselves, and his fingers fall off, and you suddenly realize you don't feel that good either...

You feel like you're versing out...

The priest turns toward you, and ...

"Oh," He smacks himself on the side of the face, even as he moves to catch your falling body. "I didn't know you were an outsider as well, or I would have asked for another miracle.  I'm so sor..."

And then you're gone...not killed, but banished....

PT