After the third day, the rain had subsided and the storm had finally moved on. The last of the red aurora had finally faded from the sky and the time had come to pick up the pieces after the destruction. The time had come to meet with the concilium.

Argentus got cleaned up and dressed in preparation to go to meet the Concilium.  He called on Polt.  "Polt, I didn't realize you were a diplomat.  Do you have any advice for today?"  He freely provided the spirit with information about what was going on, should it ask.

 Polt manifested in front of Argentus. "Well, I'm an emissary from Pluto. What were you expecting? As far as my advice, you already know what to expect from the Concilium at this point, so I'd say make sure you have your talking points ready. There's no real telling what your Order found or didn't find, so you may need to repeat yourself."

Argentus smirked.  "Really, Polt?  Indignation over not recognizing you as a diplomat?  You've spent the past weeks nonverbal and just pranking me and those around me.  Nothing personal now that I know you at least a little bit, but I thought you were not a spirit of the dead, but a spirit manifested from the element of death and needed to grow out your 1st rank immaturity.  If I had any idea that you were a ghost, I would have been expecting you were the ghost of an angry 3-year-old mute, that Pluto sent to punish me for contacting him via a third party."

He thought about the death spirit for a moment.  "Since you are an adult with the ability to communicate other than through the Influences of your form, what do you want to accomplish while you are out here with me?  And did Pluto give you a term on your stay here?"

 Polt looked at him with a smirk. "I'm still going to keep doing that, by the way. I hate the living world and everything in it. I hated it while alive and I hate it even more now. Unfortunately, Pluto saw fit to stick me to you... very likely indeed because you contacted him via third party... until you die or you rebuild the Court of Pluto. I'm personally fine with either outcome, whichever gets me home faster."

Prometheus comes out of the room where his dog was recovering from Surgery, having said what he hoped wasn't his final good bye to her. His typical hat was gone and he had clearly made and effort to clean, organize, and in some cases polish the mass of cables that made up his hair, before binding the longest in a rough pony tail.

It didn't look exactly great.... but it was clear he had run out of ideas other then hiding it entirely.

He was however wearing his typical Red Alligator skin coat, clearly oiled and polished, and was wearing a pair of matching suit pants, and a white shirt.

It was clearly an honest attempt at the formality such a meeting required, despite how uncomfortable he obviously felt like this. A failed attempt, but an attempt.

"Where is everyone else? Keeping them waiting is the worst choice we can make," he said, despite the fact it was almost impossible they would be late due to Mistral's portals.

 Grey arrived shortly after. She had makeup on covering her silvery body and a tiny black business suit, black skirt, white blouse, and little red bowtie. She had dyed her hair blonde and had applied glitter to her cheeks.

 She also had a pair of white fairy glitter wings pinned to the back of her coat. The only words that could accurately describe such an outfit were "business fairy".

As the cabal gathered to go meet the Concilium, Sal wears his own business attire, along with a long coat. "Should we go armed, or leave our weapons here?" he asks.

Noah had to portal in with Mistral, a big dragon was not something that could take a bus and the semi truck was still at the Ark. Noah for his part was dressed to kill. He had made himself a business suit that fit his natural form. "Not likely going to let us arm up. They wont likely even let us keep casting tools but there is no way they could get them all. All the same. It's a high alert meeting."

He smiled at Grey, "You look so ready you could take wall street."

Sal will leave his weapons behind, then. He hasn't fed lately, and doesn't want to risk carrying guns or blades into a tense situation. He says to the assembled group, "If I say the word 'mushin' it means I am about to lose control. I will need to be bound and locked away immediately until my rage subsides."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:37, Mon 13 Jan 2020.

Noah nodded, "Grey, if he says that word please use my armor and put him in a hamster ball."

"Sorry Sal but I never had thought to provide for feeding requirements. Once I have my accounts back I will see about getting you a blood bank fridge."

 Grey grins. "'Kay!"

Mistral had been disinclined to don formal dress for the summons to the Concilium, but had let Noah convince her.  By lucky chance she happened to take a visit to Paris on the second day with Lola, and there procured for herself a stylish pantsuit even she had to admit looked good on her. It was a tailored pale gray suit-pant and blazer over a sky-blue blouse with a ruffled neckline.  Her hair was pulled back into a neat blue-and-white bun, bound in ribbon.  She came out into the area they’d agreed to gather for the portal and looked to each of her gathered companions in their formal wear, inclining her head to them with a hint of a smile for Grey the business fairy.

When the question arose of going armed, Mistral answered, “I am never unarmed.”  There was quite clearly no place on the suit to conceal a weapon, much less the foot-long meteoric iron blade she usually carried.  Nonetheless, with a word of power uttered under Mistral’s breath the sheathed blade unraveled from nothing into her grasp, one hand on the hilt and the other on the sheath.  Another one whispered word and she dropped the sheathed blade from her dual grip, but imploded into nothing after falling only a few inches.  She said, “I may stow an arsenal in the spatial interstice and summon any item within to my fingertips at will, to anyplace... except whilst within a ward, which we will no doubt find ourselves within.  But, ways may be found to work around this.”  She extended a hand and asked, “Would anyone care to stow anything in Armoire d'armes de Mistral?”

Once all preparations had been made, Mistral wove a dragon-sized, vapor-limned portal to their appointment with the Concilium, then strode through it.

 The portal led into the side room of a large auditorium. The entire place was covered with Wards, with the sole exception of this particular room. People were still arriving and were shocked into silence as the horse-sized Noah stepped out of the portal. Everyone stared, slack jawed in amazement, as the group exited from the side room and into the concilium proper, complete with carpeted walkways, wooden podiums, and rows of chairs with nameplates, complete with representative flags from nearly two dozen countries... all of which contained the symbols denoting the ranks of both Master and Magister.

 There were also seats for the higher status individuals of each Order within New York, separated by a small bannister.

 Like with the other mages, there were gasps of surprise as Noah made himself visible. The group found that a place had been made for them on the main floor below the tiered chairs, so that they may address the rest of the conscilium. However, it took a bit of rearranging to accommodate Noah.

Argentus shook his head at Polt.  "Well, that's the second dumbest thing I've heard this week, after "some guys decided to kidnap Talion's kids."  Find something to like.  Or find something to change to make it more likable.  Or find something awful to hate and destroy it.  Being miserable for a time period of up to eternity - if I attain archmage status but fail to restore Pluto's court - on account of you were miserable for the few years of your mortal life is just stupid."

Argentus dressed in his most formal robes - the robes he had worn at each promotion within the Ladder and the Consilium, as well as when he was initiated into the Thrice-Great.  He helped array his spirits in whatever clothing they would most want to wear, then headed up to go.

He passed on the opportunity to store a weapon with Mistral.  He doubted they would take their tools, and shared that thought - in a gathering of so many mages of such rank, it would likely seem petty and pre-judging to do so.  Sal and Prometheus, as non-members might need to worry about it, though.  Besides that, it was doubtful that anything he would bring could make much difference.

Nevertheless, Argentus decided to bring the more innocuous weapons he had, to show he wasn't fearful, and to have things on hand just in case: under his robes he wore Harry's gun and carried his Strophados, with a full set of marbles inside it and a second set in his pocket.  In his breast pocket under layers of clothing, he carried the stone he had received from Atlas.  He left the assault rifle on the boat.  That would send the wrong message.

He moved toward his seat, greeting a few friends and acquaintances from out of town as he did so.  If he saw that the spot marked for him did not have at least the Master designation, he flagged down one of the pages - who likely would have been chosen from the lower-ranking members of the local Silver Ladder, to have it addressed before proceedings opened.  It would be a shame for the Ladder to not have recognized one of its own members at such a gathering.

Noah gave Mistral a small glass tube with a silver rock within. The rock looked like a natural formation of lead and seemed to be rather harmless. It was another time to save it so he gave Mistral one of his forehead to forehead pauses.

When the portal was made he hooked the end of his tail around a small roll case and walked with his cane upright. It would not due to be trundling around so he had to walk lightly. Once through the portal his eyes rolled around wildly and independent of one another as his teleportation vertigo kicked his tail.

Portals didnt floor him like pure teleportation did.

It took a bit for him to reorient himself and move again. He was very well behaved and even allowed his luggage to be inspected showing a number of projectors one would use upon a presentation. Once seated he would pick Grey up and set her on the table so she could get a better view. "Eyes open Grey. You're looking at the world class heavyweight division in magic."

Prometheus brings no weapons and offers none to Mistral. It would be a pointless gesture, they were their to seek forgiveness or take their punishment...

They weren't fighting or outrunning this, so why pretend otherwise.

However as he stepped through the portal, despite all the worst case scenarios he could have predicted, he clearly hadn't been thinking badly enough.

Swallowing and trying to emphasis to everyone just how much trouble they were in, Prometheus said to Argentus, "Is there enough Concilliums here to make this a Grand Convocation? Or just a lesser one? If its the former that's the first in a few Centuries right?"


Swallowing to suppress his fear he finished, "We maybe about to die...or be erased utterly, but being the cause of something so rare...." he trails off and glares at Noah, although his heart isn't entirely in it.

Mostly he was trying to avoid panic.