Hornsby sat in one of the two leather winged-back chairs that faced the large wooden desk. He shifted uncomfortably and the leather creaked in protest. The fire crackled in the fireplace. He fiddled with the cup and saucer in his hands. Cautiously he took a sip. The Earl Grey tea was perfect. Not too hot, but warm enough to release all the flavor from the leaves. On the back of his chair, a canary sat and preened. In the chair next to him was a cardinal that seemed to be staring at him. More birds flitted about the room.

“What you are proposing has not been done before, Gardiano. There are great risks in this,” Hornsby argued.

A hand sharply slapped the leather arm of the chair next to Hornsby. “And never before has a mistake of this caliber been made.” Hornsby looked over and where the cardinal once sat, there was now a dark-haired woman. Her eyes flashed with anger. Her painted nails and lipstick matched the red dress she wore.

Matt Gardiano raised his hand as a caution to the woman’s outburst. “Has the mistake been reversed?” he asked Hornsby.

“Yes Lord Guardian. Arrangements have been made to correct the error. It will never happen again.” Hornsby lowered his eyes submissively.

Matt Gardiano leaned forward in his large leather chair. His light gray clothes contrasted with the darkened leather which framed his diminutive size. “I trust that it won't.” The old gnomish Guardian had a gentle smile, even with his pointed teeth.

"I just hope you are not about to make the same mistake," Hornsby sighed. "It was your rule that only those about to die could be removed from the scheme of the world. You told me, if we manipulate the threads too much..."

“Come now, little one”, Gardiano said to Hornsby. “This soul is a special case, as you are well aware. We all made a promise. I intend to keep it. And the risks to what I propose are manageable. It is simply a matter of timing. One moment they are alive, the next they pass on to a new phase. I intercept them just before the moment passes. This is not much different. Left where it is, that soul has no chance but to become dark and corrupted. The person he is now, will soon cease to exist. I'm merely intervening long enough to give him a choice. In the end, it is always their choice.”

Hornsby simply gave a silent nod.

"Orean, let them know we're ready." The canary on the back of Hornsby's chair took off and flew out of the room.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:39, Thu 24 Sept 2009.

Edwin Manners stood over the operating table as he patched up a green and scaly horned demon. As he was finishing up with his task at hand he was interrupted as a woman stepped into his lab with a folder tucked under her arm. ”What is it?” he asked without raising his view from his patient.

”Your next assignment, Sir” She said as she reached the folder out to him.

A slight huff of frustration passed through his lips, ”Alright, let me see it” he set his tweezers aside on the tray beside him having finished the stitches as he reached for the folder. He furrowed his brow and looked up at the woman awaiting her dismissal, ”Is Preston upstairs in his office?”

”Last I checked, Sir”

”Thank you, you may go now” Edwin angrily flopped the file onto the counter beside him before he looked over at his patient. Hesitating only a brief moment in thought he took the stethoscope from around his neck and threw it down onto the counter before he removed his lab coat and placed it on the hanger by the door. He swapped it out for his Armani sports coat that finished his three-piece suit complete with black silk tie. Snatching the file from the counter he stormed out of the lab and left his patient to wake up off the anesthesia on his own.

Exiting the elevator Edwin stepped out into an elaborate hallway full of fancy offices with their own windows, he headed toward the end of the hall before letting himself into the all too familiar office. ”Preston, is this some kind of mistake? You have to recognize the risks of doing something like this, do you not?” Edwin said as he held the folder firmly in front of him.

A dirty-blonde haired man slowly turned around his plush comfy office chair to reveal his equally expensive suit had all but been undone. His coat hung on the back of the chair and his tie had obviously been pulled loose, he faced Edwin and put what appeared to be a scotch straight up on his desk in front of him. ”There’s no mistake, just try it.” He said firmly and without any hesitation.

”Try it? At best it will kill him, and if it doesn’t kill him, it will most definitely turn him into a killing machine. No, I do not kill people, I help them” Edwin retorted sternly as he tossed the file on the desk between them.

Preston stood slowly as he couldn’t even attempt to hide his smirk, ”Is that what you think we do here, little brother? You can’t tell me you honestly believe that. I know you have no idea what all goes on here but c’mon, I thought you were smart. These aren’t even people that you care for.”

”Oh please, I saved that lawyer’s hand. You can’t convince me that was not helping someone”

”That wasn’t even his hand!” Preston laughed at Edwin and shook his head, ”My God, I was wrong, you really are that naive. Dad’s right, don’t do the experiment. It won’t matter; Dad will never trust you enough to bring you into the family business anyway. He’ll find more loyal strangers, you might as well go pack up your office now”

"Dad? What do you mean, what did he say to you?" Edwin's anger faded as he asked his brother for details in subtle desperation.

"He told me this would happen, he didn't think you could do it but I guess I had more faith than I should've. Y'know I actually defended you to the old man, I told him he should just tell you what was happening but he insisted to be sure first. Turns out he was right, you're not cut out for any of this are you? You may not have wanted to follow us through law school, that was fine, Dad so graciously found a place for you. But now you can't even handle that? For Dad's sake, I hope Mom was sleeping with the milkman 'cause I can barely stand to call you my brother" Preston dismissively shook his head again as he settled back down into his office chair he put all his attention to his computer as he was done with Edwin.

Biting his lower lip Edwin filled with anger that his brother would no longer listen to. Out of pure aggravation he finally grabbed the file off of his brother’s desk and walked out of his office with his head hung low. Preston’s eyes immediately followed Edwin’s departure as a sinister smile crossed his lips in victory. Edwin pressed the button waiting for the elevator back down to his lab where he could start the experiment. He glared at the files inside the folder in disbelief at the lengths he would go for his father. As the elevator doors opened he stepped forward before realizing that he wasn’t stepping into the elevator but instead a swirling vortex that he had never seen before. Despite his efforts he couldn’t stop himself in time before getting swallowed up by it. The elevator doors opened moments later revealing no sign of Edwin Manners.

Raven did one last check to make sure that she had everything, and then closed her suitcase. With all the traveling she and Dren had done, sometimes to very remote locations, she had learned to travel light. She walked through the shared bathroom that separated her room from Dren's. "Are you sure you don't want to go? It's been a long time since we've been to Chicago. After we get this mirror delivered to Pistone, we should have some down time. Marco's got a couple of club dates scheduled there." She smiled. "I could get you backstage passes."

"I'm sure," Dren had been dealing with a lot recently. Any other time, the idea of a trip with Raven would be just what the doctor ordered. But the last thing Dren was comfortable with, right now, was being forced to stay in such close proximity with Raven. Road Trips were an amazing thing, you could always tell how well you could get along with someone when you were trapped in a car with them. "Two reasons," it was the start of a speech he'd planned hours before, "I'm stay b'ind an' runnin' tests o' th' security now that I 'ave free time. And, I dinna relish th' idea of a road trip wit' Lestat... if ya know what I mean."

Raven nodded. The tension between Dren and Iain had been escalating lately. Maybe it would be good if they got some space from each other. Living under the same roof, even in a house this size, made it too hard to avoid each other. "You'll have the whole place to yourself." She smiled at him once again. "Just try not to break anything if you throw a wild party. Smithers might ground you."

"Ya dinna have t'worry about th'place. You jus' make sure that if ya do go ta a club, you stay near the pool tables if they have any or front door where it's well lit." Dren grabbed keys to one of the cars, clearly intent on running an errand. "Jus' make sure ya come back in one piece, Pigeon. An' don't do anything stupid, like take one fer the one guy who's already dead." He smiled and reached out but stopped, lingering in that space between wanting to touch Raven and not wanting her to know how much he wanted to touch her. Quickly he covered by rubbing the skin just under his own eye, "Do that..." as if expecting her to mime the action and wipe away something that wasn't there.

Raven lightly brushed her finger under her eye, assuming Dren had spotted an errant eyelash. "Don't worry, I'll be careful."

"Be back later. I'm gonna run out fer some groceries." Which was Dren's way of saying he was about to run out of beer. He flashed a smile, gave Raven a wink, and turned to grab his jacket trying not to make it obvious that he was worried about her. It was the first time, in a very long while, that he wouldn't be around to catch Raven if she truly needed it. It was a new kind of trust he had to put in Raven, but at the same time he still believed in her.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:11, Fri 25 Sept 2009.

It is the morning a couple of days after the successful heist of the mirror from Chorro's riverboat casino, the Aces and Eights. Most of the members of Cornerstone were packing for the trip to Chicago to exchange the mirror for the promised safety of a family from the Chicago vampire crime boss, Vito Pistone.

Contact with Pistone went smoothly and everything was arranged for the two groups to meet at one of Pistone's three restaurants, collectively known as the Italian Village in the heart of the Chicago Loop. Although this was to be a simple exchange in a public place, the team of Cornerstone felt that a simple show of strength was warranted. With strength in numbers, the plan was to head to the airport and fly up to Chicago, make the exchange and if all went well, spend a couple of days seeing the sights, do some shopping, maybe even catch a show.

Everyone's communication device, be it a cell phone or PDA suddenly went off at the same time as a text message arrived. Hornsby had called a sudden, last minute meeting. Everyone going to Chicago was to meet in the conference room as soon as possible.

The last of his stuff stowed for a trip to the Second City, Pieran sauntered into the kitchen for some grub.  He wasn’t in a mood for fancy.  He’d seen enough “K-P” duty over the course of their last mission and, like many chefs noshing for something to, well, nosh, he attacked something simple.  And thus it was with childhood exuberance that he opened the fresh box of cereal he’d purchased at Schnucks Market; a boyhood favorite– Frankenberry -artificial strawberry flavor cereal with spooky-fun marshmallows.  He hadn’t seen it on the shelves in years.  What a treat!

But by his second spoonful he began remembering with hideous clarity why he’d stopped eating it altogether.  A dozen or more voices screamed in his head, “ARE YOU BEREFT OF REASON!?”  He agreed that his choice of snack had been, perhaps, a trifle unhinged and so, with a peculiar blend of sadness and relief, he emptied the pink detritus down into the bowels of the disposal.  With a grind and a rinse the offensive kibbles whooshed to their final resting place.

He sighed wearily.  He’d have to settle for something prosaic enough for him yet satisfying enough to calm the excoriating din in his head to a tolerable roar: a Bacon-Lettuce-&-Tomato Sandwich ought to do the trick.  The entire food pyramid compressed into an easy-peasy delivery system!

But no sooner had the sourdough popped out of the toaster with a happy chime, then a second alert chimed in, this one from his PDA “ringer thing,” as he called it.  Oh bother: it was Bosley calling for an immediate powwow in the conference room.

Not a man who enjoyed being deterred, Pieran compromised on his lunch plan, bringing with him into the conference room a jelly glass of milk and a peanut butter with mayonnaise sandwich.

The voices were cranky again.  Oh well.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:28, Mon 28 Sept 2009.