Telos LLC is a registered corporate entity, officially filed in Delaware for reasons of obscure legal marginalia. This address, like those of a surprising number of major corporations, is a PO Box service that opens, scans, and forwards the rare official documents on to management. The massive building housing these accounts is depressingly fractal, small boxes inside larger boxes, nested inside a larger container. One can picture the mice having learned to work in cubicles off some forgotten hall.

Which is why there is little reason to do business there, leaving the Twins to take advantage of Wyoming. More specifically the idyllic Jackson Hole, a tiny town boasting more millionaires per capita than almost anywhere in the US. Annual events in this isolated patch draw thousands of the financial and corporate elite from around the country. So many outsized egos makes for plentiful deals. Currently every corporate officer of a bank with more than ten billion dollars is assets have flooded the place. In theory it is a peer exchange and best practices seminar with an undercurrent of merger and acquisition deals away from prying eyes.

Also, a great deal of drunken horse back riding. Drunken white water rapids. Drunken hunting. Really, they're going to deplete the national store of single malt Scotch at this rate.

The Twins have a suite with an attached office paid up for the week and the bright sun's edge has just dipped below the horizon.

"Wyoming?"

Order asked, not bothering to hide any trace of her disdain as she leaned against the wall and sipped at her morning cappuccino. She hadn't bothered to hide it the last twenty-three times she'd made some variation of the exact same comment over the last week either. Order was many things, but she rarely tried to be subtle. They were both a force of personality, but between the two, she had always been the more direct one. An unlearned habit of their twinned existence. They did not mesh perfectly, but neither was their static between them, they simple were. For that morning Order had chosen a form that was close enough to Entropy that they could conceivably be called sisters. An inch or two shorter, less than a dozen pounds heavier, and with the mixed skin tones and facial features that suggested she hailed from her somewhere South East of Poland. Turkish maybe, though perhaps something more European, it was impossible to truly say. She wore a man's suit, something clean and Italian, though obviously tailored to fit her form. A hint of sandalwood had been dabbed her neck, and a light platinum chain  was wrapped around her throat and rested at each wrist.

"What, you would have preferred Vail?"

Entropy answered, from where she prepped in front of the mirror. Unlike her sister, she did not have the luxury of adopting forms as easily as one put on a hat. Instead she needed to attend to her appearance the old fashioned way, a time consuming process considering the level of respectability both were expected to maintain. She wore a form fitting camisole and skirt, in matching grey, that along with the white jacket she'd thrown over the top would be premiering on the runway in Milan in two weeks. It managed to be on just this end of business casual appropriate, a stark contrast to the clean lines, vest, and tie of Order's more masculine get up.

Order laughed, and waved the comment away.

"It's all the same to me, once the Reverie comes. Still, can't fault a woman for wanting to be on the mountains rather than just next to them."

Entropy sighed, adjusting a lash that had somehow come free, and giving herself a final once over in the dresser mirror.

"Fair enough. Let's make it worth our while then, and see what fish the Reverie has brought us?"

She rose, and hand in hand the two left their hotel room and headed in the direction of the main lobby floor. There was something inherently predatory, in the way they each walked. The two a contrasting mirror, and yet so utterly alike in their every motion. Despite the surface level differences in their appearance and personality, when they acted in concert, it was almost as if they were merely one entity. One mind guiding two bodies, two sets of eyes, and two utterly devious tongues.

Say what one might about Wyoming, it understood the need to be inebriated while there. A random stroll across the small town yields fifteen or so bars, pubs, clubs, and an establishment named 'Local Bar'. The sidewalks are surprisingly full from the banking convention, maybe triple the average number of residents. Locals seem to be studiously ignoring the visitors, but several visitors watch the Twins' progress closely at points.

Going with the Brownian motion of the crowds brings the Twins to the Million Dollar Cowboy. It's double down on the camp; mechanical bull, bar stools replaced with saddles, a couple of pool tables, and a fair sized stage with an admittedly expensive looking audio system. Most of the beers are cheap, with executives in eight thousand dollar suits drinking two dollar bottles. Anything with liquor seems to start at forty dollars and top out at two hundred for the house special cocktail. The wine list is crap though, not that the clientele seem to care.

Oh but it is shooting fish in a barrel for the pair, there must be two hundred potential clients here. It's merely a question of what criteria to hunt by.

For the Twins, reality was a fairly malleable substance, subject to their will to an almost unimaginable degree. This fact meant many things, but the thing it meant most was that indecision was no longer a vex with which they were ever afflicted.

They didn't fully understand the mechanics of it, for it was a purely intuitive thing. A natural talent, albeit one they had devoted considerable attention to since it had awoken within them. Once things were settled, once they were significantly more established than they were currently, they had already decided between themselves that they would dedicate themselves fully to unraveling the mystery. For now though, there was work to be done.

It was Entropy, who had the knack for it. She stared at the room of suits and just sort of opened her mind to the possibilities. Within, the infinite realities of the multiverse began to flood in, a hundred billion different possibilities contained within a billion different choices. It should have overwhelmed her completely, should have shattered her mind with the sheet vastness of it all. Even grappling with a fraction of it should have left her a drooling idiot upon the floor. Yet somehow she navigated through that liminal space as if she had been born to it. It was as easy as breathing. Easier, even, given that she seemingly no longer needed to breath. That was the crux of it, truly, for she was so much more than mortal now. In the millisecond that it took her to open herself up to infinity, she already had what she wanted.

That was the art to it, she'd found. It was a matter of Intent. Shaping her Intent cleanly and clearly, focusing it and honing it to a razor's edge. Sharper than that, to a laser point. A single focal desire that everything else was built upon. After that? All she had to do was open her mind, let the multiverse come rushing in, and she would find the reality that had exactly what she needed. It was so childishly easy, to pluck the tangible from the infinite. It didn't even need to be her Intent, she'd found. She could just as easily shape Order's, or anyone else's, should she so choose. As long as the Client gave her enough information to work with, she could shape anything into an Intent.

Here though? Here she had no one but herself and her sister to play the roll of the Client. Here, the Intent was all her own.

She relished it.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:57, Thu 09 Sept 2021.

At the edge of the bar the Twins see him. Hispanic, shaved head, early thirties, short for this crowd (5'7-5'8, executives tend to hover closer to 6'), and built like a fireplug. The suit is custom fitted and expensive but drab. He's smoking a cigar slowly while working his way down a high ball glass filled with a dark amber liquid. In different circumstances the Twins might consider him a bodyguard, but they know the truth. He is the richest creature here, and something has him drinking with a sullen air about him.

The Twins' nature was complicated, a multitude of truths and realities that flickered and faded from moment to moment. What was true one instant was a story the next, and even Entropy couldn't pierce the veil and discern the difference. She could grasp the endless possibilities of the future in a mere instant, but her own past was clouded for her. It was an interesting duality, trying to keep it all contained within their mind. They did not think it had always been that way, that she had only lost the thread of it when they had awoken to their place within the Mythos, but could she really be clear? Even fundamental truths, like the reality of herself and Order as 'the Twins,' was unclear.  They had always been two, and then they had only just been one, and neither Entropy nor Order could tell the difference. Some Facts were immutable, despite the infinitely changing realities about them. Whatever the truth of the Twin's upbringing before they had awoken, they remained. Two or one, they had been born to wealth a privilege, but four years at RISD had afforded them all sorts of experiences slumming it with the friends they had made there. Poor kids invented their own fun, and sometimes that fun translated well to a bar full of Hedge Fund managers nursing Scotch over last night's hangover.

Order moved to the bar, and pushed a matte black credit card across the counter in the bartender's direction. She'd be the one leading this show, leaving Entropy time alone with their new contact.

"Got any Supernova?"

She asked, eyeing the bartender. Her voice was smoke over a frozen lake, rich and warm and hazey.

"The first release, not the 2019, though that will do in a pinch."

There had only been 2,000 bottles of the first release, and most of them were sitting on collector's shelves. It wasn't that much of a long shot though, as this was exactly the sort of place that could cater to such tastes. It wasn't particularly distinguished Scotch, but it was certainly distinctive, holding far more peat than anything else on the market. It was the sort of gimmick that those with money to burn always went in on, the indulgence that was only worth it if you didn't mind dropping a few grand on a passing flight of fancy.

"I need a dozen glasses, whatever you've got on the top shelf, and just to make people's eyes roll a bottle of Everclear."

She laughed, making sure her voice carried enough to draw people's attention.

"And some matches."

Her wicked smile positively oozed with excitement, drawing every eye in the room towards her with little shivers of anticipation.

---

Entropy waited beat for her sister to start the show, and then beelined for the man sitting at the edge of the bar.

"Not you."

She whispered as she brushed his shoulder to pass.

"You're the one this little show is for, but it's not for you. You'd be bored to tears with the whole thing anyways.  Flaming shots of Supernova is certainly a unique experience, but not one you're particularly missing out on."

"Next you'll be asking for Goldschlager," the bartender says with a flat accent as he takes the card and swipes it across the terminal before handing it back, "Local ordinance says one drink at a time per customer. For the Everclear that'll put you over my limit to dispense."

He shrugged as he knelt behind the bar for a moment and there was a metallic click. The sounds of glass rattling occupied a few seconds before he stood back up. 2010, not the original but as close as event this place was likely to have on hand.

"Pretty sure if I give you the matches the insurance adjusters will claim conspiracy. You want this stuff neat and straight?" he asked Order, "I've got sterile cold stones that won't dilute it."

He was going to be a stickler for the rules, then gave Order a small smile.

"Andy! Party of seven at table nine," he called out, loading a tray with shot glasses and pouring without bothering to measure, "No one gets in without passing an age check so keep an eye on these for when your friends arrive."

A rangy blonde cowgirl in flannel button up and denim pants moves the next best thing to nine hundred dollars worth of booze to a table in front of the stage. Order secures matches trivially from one of the five dozen smokers in the bar.

She can be truly distracting.
______________________________________________________________________

Entropy gets close enough to smell the distillery their target appears to have hidden on his person. Bourbon, enough of it to drop a squad of Green Berets and he's stone sober.

"You might be surprised at how little trust this crowd has in strangers walking up to them," he says, tones carefully scrubbed of personality, "The theater is you being bored, not you doing business."

"Fair enough."

Entropy answered, trusting Order to do her work. There was a seat next to him, but the reality she'd chosen within the multiverse of possibilities required that she get him out of there first, so she remained on her feet. She didn't know why, the why of it was simply too many variables to process, that was just the way of it. She picked a reality, and then she followed it.

"But it would be a shame if we remained strangers. Or rather, if your patron and I remained strangers."

She gestured vaguely at the scene unfolding before them.

"Feel like taking that cigar outside for some air?"

Order had plenty to do faking incompetency to delay the two fire extinguishers trying to combat her stunt. They will get away with it but the show has an act or two left.

"Patron," he rolled the word around as though tasting it, "A good word but a little too Roman, with all the senators and elections. I like 'Liege' better."

He removed himself from the saddle-stool with a grunt and nodded.

"Phil," he added as he sidled around the audience Order was drawing while they made for the door, "Do you need your counterpart present for this?"

Entropy threw a glance towards her sister, who was in the process of negotiating the laborious process of ordering drinks for a dozen executives and encouraging them to get into all sorts of trouble.  The barkeep might not let her get away with flaming shots, but there were still a dozen little temptations she could indulge in with them to keep their attention anywhere but on Entropy and Phil.

"She'll be fine, I'm the one she's supposed to look after."

Which was the simple truth. The Twins were the sorts of liars who believed the best lies were always some version of the truth. So much easier to remember, so much less messy and complicated that way. She reached into her pocket and withdrew a silver card case, delicately popping it open and handing Phil one of the crisp eggshell business cards within. The card read simply Telos, LLC in a clean black font, and had a phone number and an e-mail on the back. It was an understated and elegant affair.

"That's the nice part about all of this, how new it all is."

She remarked casually, and her voice was just as smokey and rich as her Twin's.

"We get to pick the names we want them to call us by, shape their perceptions from the get go. With any of that lot there, I wouldn't have a name. I'd just be one of the Twins, and that would be enough for them.  For you and your 'Liege,' Phil? Well, you both can call me Entropy."

And then she was taking him by the hand if he permitted it, and guiding them both outside to a little privacy.

Order seems to be tormenting the bartender but the staff seems well used to handling drunken executives with a light and deft touch. She probably isn't going to cause more than a few thousand dollars in damages total but the show is shaping up to be spectacular.

Phil lets Entropy lead him by the hand for a moment before getting a half step ahead of her. His shoulders and elbow almost magically get people out of the way. He doesn't seem to be shoving so much as making people flinch with the thought that he might.

Wyoming at night has continued to grow colder as they step outside.

"You incorporated?" he asks when they're clear of the bar, "What, are each of you a General Partner?"

Entropy pulled out a cigarette case, withdrawing one and tapping it out carefully.

"Incorporation was an elegant solution to a number of messy complications."

She answered simply, and it was true. Being a combined entity immediately presented one with all sorts of legal hurdles, particularly when one wasn't interested in revealing one's status as one of the newly awakened Mythos to the feds. The legal status of both of them was a complicated affair, and incorporation had significantly simplified things for the Twins.

"That is very much what we do at Telos LLC, elegant solutions to messy problems."

She leaned on the balcony, seemingly impervious to the cold. She wasn't, it would kill her eventually same as any other person, but her body had abandoned such conventions as shivering a long time ago now.

"And very much why I'd like to be introduced to your Liege. Perhaps he has a messy problem in need of a solution, perhaps he is an elegant solution just waiting to be found. I know most of us think we can go it alone, and they might be right, but it seems a foolish thing compared to what we might achieve if we actually collaborated with each other."

She turned and inspected him in the dim light, her eyes piercing it easily to gauge his reaction.

Phil took a minute to mull over his response. He didn't seem terribly worried or eager, more like he was slowly working through a mildly difficult bit of math in his head.

"You understand that he's a very old-fashioned sort. If you meet over phone or facetime or any of that nothing of substance will follow," he told her, "On the other hand, if you meet face to face I believe the two, uhm three, of you may butt heads in a cataclysmic manner."

He shrugged.

"But he is rich even as legends go and can do business if he thinks it'll make him richer still."

She took a long drag of her cigarette.

"Old fashioned?"

She eyed him speculatively.

"Are you suggesting that he's going to have issue with the two of us making eye contact and talking back?"

She chuckled, and her voice was rich and warm.

"Because we can work around that, that is quite literally what we do. We are, to a fault, problem solvers."

"I'm suggesting he's irrationally jealous, paranoid, and greedy. Even odds he'll try to collect or cook the two of you," Phil said bluntly, "We're all grown up monsters so I won't keep you out of his sight in some gallant gesture, but this is the official warning that here there be dragons."

He looked back to the bar.

"Are you going to join us?"

"Ah...."

Entropy drew the word out, her suspicions confirmed by Phil's bluntness.

"A bit on the nose there with the warning, though the gesture is appreciated. Funny that we'll be trying to collect each other then, though I imagine he's much more possessive of his collection than my sister and I am."

She joined him in facing the bar.

"Still, those of us who ally are going to pretty quickly be the one's calling the shots. If he's as domineering as you say, I'm sure he'll be only too interested in what I'm offering, if only to protect what's his. It's a brand new world, and I'm sure it's going to be filled to the brim with Trickster Archetypes. Powerful or not, he's likely going to want to shore up his defenses."

She laughed, her cigarette turning to a dust so fine within her fingers that it almost instantly vanished on the breeze.

"Not that I'd ever be crass enough to spell it out that way in front of him like that, but you get the idea."

She was telling his agent, wasn't she? Chances were good that he'd know.

"So, I have an outstanding obligation to introduce the two of you. That leaves what deal you might offer me," Phil replied, "My particular frame didn't come with great social elan or any of that so expect me to deal with most things like a hammer."

He considered the plume of his breath in the cold night air for a moment.

"Would you like his name? Both of them, I mean. It'll probably let you guess my nature as well."

The universe tightened around the words the man spoke, growing somehow thicker in a way that was impossible to describe. A multitude of possibilities condensed to a single point. Words were dangerous things, around the Twins. The most offhand comment easily fashioned into a lifelong binding pledge with only the tiniest flicker of Entropy's will. She didn't even realize she was doing it, half the time, it was just something that was.

"In exchange you'll get three questions from us."

She answered succinctly, and reality twisted and unfolded as she spoke the words.

"We are, fundamentally, problem solvers. How best to accomplish a project of yours, or thwart one from someone who has irritated you. We will assemble a Dossier for you and ensure it is delivered. When you have acted on the information provided, or allowed the window of opportunity to pass, you may request your next question."

She paused, eyeing him speculatively.

"That should be more than adequate for a round of introductions, no?"

"For purpose of clarity I supply questions, you supply accurate information in answer," Phil replied, "As being promised questions, read literally, would be problematic."

He pulled a bronze hip flask from his business jacket's inner pocket.

"Sealed with a drink," he said before taking a long draw and offering it to Entropy, "Neither poison or curse, by my word."

The Singularity had been building, growing not larger, but denser. As Phil raised his glass, it built to the breaking point, manifesting as a shared reality. Phil was bound, constrained by reality itself to adhere to the terms he had set forth and agreed to. He even bound himself again when he offered Entropy his glass, a far simpler and less intricate binding, but a binding nevertheless. Entropy reached out, and took a long pull. She savored the taste of it, closing her eyes for a moment as she sampled both the new Singularities within her consciousness.

"Bound and sealed then, Phil."

She said at last, opening her eyes and staring at Telos LLC's newest client. A minor case, of course, but a lead on a significantly bigger fish.

"Shall we get to it then?"

She added, offering him his drink back.

"Nicholas. Anthony. Augustus," Phil answered as he tucked away the flask, each part of the name enunciated with clarity and break between, "Once known as Fafner, no mucking about with his time as a dwarf this go around. Business is in New York right now."

"I can find plenty of reasons to be in New York tomorrow."

She hadn't been back since she had awakened to the Mythos within herself, awakened to her new duality. The Twins hadn't had any reason to avoid it, they just hadn't had any reason to be there either. They had both known that business would take them home eventually, it was just too juicy a target. The chances that none of the Mythos had claimed New York City as their domain were so infinitesimal that weren't even worth considering.

"Or do you need more time?"

She didn't doubt that he would make the introduction. He could feel the Singularity now, even if he might not be consciously aware of it. One did not break a deal made with the Twins.

"Yes, I will physically introduce the two of you. Just remember that safety stops once you've met," Phil agreed as he took another slug of his drink, "You have anything else to do in this town? Already bought the bank he was wanting."

While the Twins could feel that their influence was firmly on Phil it was, different, than when used on more mundane targets. He felt substantial, metaphysically dense, like he could pull back on their bond. Fortunately this fish seems content enough with the hook.

"Besides, vacationing in a town in Wyoming seems to miss the entire point."

Entropy didn't answer right away, instead opening her mind up to the infinite multiverse. The Twin's goal was clear, albeit vague. They sought to assemble a network of debts, favors, and obligations amongst the Mythos.

Their aspect was perfectly suited for such a task, with Order forever looking to the present, and Entropy weaving the intricate web of the future. All she had to do was cycle through a billion possible futures, and find the one that brought her closest to what they both desired.

They could certainly assemble a network here with a few days work but the rewards match the risk. By the feel of it some luck eaters, hedge mages, maybe a minor diviner or two. The currency among this crowd is currency and any connections with a mythic master are attenuated. Although something meant that driving out of the place rather than flying would yield more connections.

"You and your Liege were the only other players here, Phil."

Entropy answered, as Order emerged from the bar to join them, just in time.

"We've got what we came for."

She said, and it was a statement and not a question.

"Well players do need pieces. I'm here to pick up pawns and knights," Phil replied, offering the returned Twin a slug from the flask, "But you take precedence. Anything you need to pick up or should we just head to the airport? Only two flights a day out on the major airlines but I've got a Piper that'll get us to somewhere less remote in a few hours."

Reality shifted, and what had been was no longer, merely a possibility of what was. Existence reasserted itself, the new path laid out before them.

"We have business."

Order reminded her sister, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a smartphone. She placed a call to the service they used, arranging to have the designer clothes Entropy had brought with her to Wyoming waiting for them in the lobby of the hotel. Entropy packed light, as neither had anything even remotely approximating bodily functions that needed attending to. The only thing she had felt the need to bring with her was a trio of outfits. Order didn't pack at all, as her appearance was purely a matter of her own will and desire.

"We will have to decline your charter, I'm afraid."

Entropy confirmed, gathering herself and taking her sister's arm.

"We will be in New York by tomorrow night."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:49, Tue 05 Oct 2021.

((Just to be sure, you're opting to skip driving out in favor of flight?))

OOC: Correct, they are willing to get in a plane to get straight there. They don't need anything, and if this guy double crosses them a plane isn't the worst place for them to have a fight.

Okay, but it does mean missing the connection they saw coming about from driving out.

Sorry, clumsiness on my part. Even took a note, and then ignored it.  Driving out for sure.

Post edited
This message was last edited by the player at 03:04, Tue 05 Oct 2021.

"Fine, you want to drive across the big empty have fun with it," Phil told her, "I assume you already have my contact information. Preferred meal to have ready upon your arrival?"

He made his way to the airport, seemingly planning to just walk the seven or eight miles.

Did they drive themselves or hire a driver?

Entropy threw him a smile as Order turned away to finish the call.

”Oh Phil, if it were a matter of preference, we’d be joining you on the charter.”

She tapped the side of her nose.

”But sniffing out opportunities is very much what we do, and we can’t let this one slip by.”

She so rarely knew what it was that she was hunting, it was enough to hunt. She shaped herIntention, and provided her will was strong enough, the rest fell into place. She’d might have thought it Fate, had not the truth of her own Mythos not been so engrained upon her psyche. There was no denying her essential nature, and so she hadn’t run from it. Neither of them had, taking instead the names that were the most obvious to them both. Other names might have sufficed, for their Mythos was not limited to a single existence, and yet these two fit them best. Creation and Destruction, Pattern and Choas.

Almost as soon as she had started, Order was hanging up.

”They’ll be dropping off the car in five minutes.”

She said to her sister, turning to face Phil.

”Can’t get any decent Sushi in this town, what good is all this money changing hands if you can’t get good Sushi?”

Order would drive, too easy for Entropy to get distracted. She had the multitude of universes to occupy her, did she not? There was no need for mortal servants, beyond those who packed their clothes or delivered the dark grey BMW X6 that they had leased for this little expedition. Order for the details, and Entropy for the big picture. That had always been the way of it.

Or it hadn’t, they’d never know.

"You wouldn't want the fish by the time they arrived," Phil told them with a wave, "Sushi it is. Traditional I think, none of this cream cheese malarkey."

Mercedes SUVs were slightly low-rent but the Twins made do with what was available. Two thousand, one hundred sixty odd miles. They would cross just shy of ten states. Thirty plus hours if one obeyed the speed limit.

Even if they blithely ignored the weather and rough patches the Twins realized something. Nebraska was terribly dull. Midnight found them refilling at a gas station just off I-80 on a four-way stop.

"Why are we out here again?"

Order asked as she filled the tank, as if she didn't know. It was a little joke between them, to pretend to bicker and argue about their shared purpose. They didn't exactly share each other's thoughts, but it was a near and dear thing. Such questions were utterly unnecessary, except to play the part. The multiverse had chosen itself, and they were just along for the ride.

"What, you missing your beauty sleep?"

Entropy responded. Neither of them needed sleep, and Order could adopt whatever form struck her. She'd picked a broad hipped and even broader shouldered shape for this journey. Caucasian, early or late thirties, well muscled from either a life of professional sport, or physical labor. It wasn't a look that would draw attention, as the attention they sought would find them one way or another. Entropy, for her part, looked exactly the same as she had in Wyoming. She stuck out a fair amount for Nebraska, but they weren't intending on being there long.

"Well it's midnight at a crossroads, not sure what other traditions you two like," a male voice announced, "I could bury a few coins and spill wine for the ambiance."

He rested against a short, heavy truck painted silver with red highlights that has to be at least forty years old. The thing was closer to a tank than most modern vehicles. The man himself is thirty-ish, tall, and broad shouldered with the dense frame of a farm or construction worker. Brown hair, brown eyes, in flannel and denim.

"Sorry, they didn't tell me your names. I'm Quinton."

Entropy looked about at their surroundings, as if noticing the crossroads for the first time. Order, for her part, had eyes only for the man.

"That was awfully kind of you to arrange that."

Entropy said, still pretending as if the man wasn't there, even as she addressed him directly.

"Though also somewhat menacing in a 'we know you, you don't know us,' sort of way."

The ever cautious Order added.

"Oh hush you, with all the emergent Mythos it's only natural that at least one of them would be resonant with the concept of information. Deities of knowledge, destiny controlling crones, there are simply too many possibilities. Besides, we do know who he is, he said as much. This is Quinton."

She laughed as her sister rolled her eyes, withdrawing the pump from the SUV's fuel tank.

"A pleasure, Quinton. They probably didn't tell you our names because they were trying to be polite, which is another good sign. Most in the know just call us 'the Twins.' If you need more specifics than that, we can certainly talk, but..."

"... the Twins is fine."

Order interrupted.

"As you would have it," Quinton replied with a nod, "And I'm not trying to be threatening, the bosses are just kind of bad at linear time. They've got a habit of bad stage theater acting."

He stepped away from the truck with a nod.

"The three of them only have one eye between them. Sharing has apparently gotten old. I'm told you'll name the price for two more."

He smiled.

"And I'd be careful with the 'C' word, they get a bit tetchy about their age."

The Twins had endured a rather unorthodox education when they had moved on to Law School, primarily at the hands of their ethics professor, Donovan Miles. Professor Miles had possessed a unique perspective when it came to ethics and the law, one heavily influenced by his own Demonic possession. He hadn't been an expert on Greek demi-gods, by any stretch of the imagination. Still, one did not skip the fundamentals, and even the most casual dip into Greek Mythology would have covered the Graeae.

"We will be careful not to offend the Daughters of Phorcys."

Entropy said, and Order rolled her eyes at her sister showing off what a studious little demonologist she'd been in grad school. They'd been? Who could say, certainly not the Twins. Entropy held up a finger, closing her eyes and concentrating.

"Do the Grey Sisters want me to conjure up an answer now, or did they want to speak to us in person first?"

She didn't bother mentioning that they were on a tight schedule. If she hadn't been meant to come this way, then she wouldn't have ended on this reality. It wasn't Fate, that was more the domain of the ones Quinton here was representing. It was simply that in the crafting of her Intention, she eroded away any reality that wasn't entwined with it. She didn't destroy it, she wasn't that powerful, but she certainly severed her ability to access it. It didn't mean that everything went perfectly, no one could account for every possibility. It just meant she always knew right where she and her sister needed to be.

"They aren't exactly mobile these days. If you want to meet them I'll arrange it but apparently available divine eyes that still function are rare. For now they've gone reclusive," Quinton told them, "You're something of an oracle as well, right? How easy do you find getting a straight answer? Best I can tell there are two actual things that serve but when I try to dowse them out, well, it's like looking to long at the sun."

Natural 20 means success, you really don't need a supporting Fact for them unless it's something really odd.

"Answers are never straight, questions are."

Entropy said from where she stood out in the night.  She shaped her Intention, focusing on the request as it was made. Should see seek vision for a trio of Oracles starved of such, where would she begin.

"He works for a trio of Oracles, he knows."

Order fired back, leaning alongside the car while her sister did her work.

Dice, cards, spinning wheels, and all the alcohol imported. Nearby tame water in the desert.

Inevitably the SUV's sound system began playing ZZ Top, Viva Las Vegas.

A church and museum flickered on the edge.

"I learned to take payment in concrete things, not foreknowledge," Quinton agreed with Order.

"Ha!"

Order barked out a laugh, directed entirely at her sister. While the pair of them might have the multiverse at their fingertips, they still couldn't be in two places at once. Ever the more diplomatic of the two, Entropy threw Quinton an apologetic smile.

"We're headed in the opposite direction from Las Vegas, but I can't imagine our work there will take too long. When we are done, Telos LLC will be happy to start working on this new contract. Are you authorized to negotiate payment now? Or are you merely here to guarantee that satisfactory payment will be forthcoming upon delivery of the final product? Assuming it meets demand, of course."

It might seem foolish to begin the work before even discussing what the payment might be, but dealing with the Mythos was different than the standard business negotiation. Elder powers rarely enjoyed leaving debts outstanding, and even Trickster entities strove to pay their dues. Sure, they might have an entirely different idea of what sort of payment was fair for services rendered, but no one liked unpaid dues. Obligations left unfulfilled had a way of biting those who left them in the back, and few where brave enough to leave a consortium of Demons feeling short changed.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:17, Mon 18 Oct 2021.

"I have authorization if you want payment in cash or securities, which I've been assured you won't," Quinton replied, "Their bid is three questions a year, or one active action with the same frequency."

Order let out a long descending whistle, as Quinton's words sharpened existence and took focus. Reality held its breath, and the Twins filled that sudden void.

"As the empowered and authorized representative of the Grey Sisters..."

Entropy began, her lush voice gone almost singsong as she luxuriated on the words. They were deep and heavy, the tones resonate on frequencies far beyond mortal ken. There was no counter bid, no haggling for a fourth or fifth. Not that they didn't covet such things, they were at their core covetous creatures. They simply wouldn't debase themselves to engage in such petty negotiations with a representative of one of the Mythos. One did not try and nickel and dime Oracles for favors, it just wasn't done.

"... we hear and acknowledge your bid. Your employers terms are acceptable. We of course make no promise of delivery, save that if we acquire the assets that meet the specifications that they desire, we will ensure that the are passed into your care. Then Telos LLC will accept the subsequent three boons, in perpetuity."

The universe tightened, the moment sealed.

Eternity was an awfully long time.

"Keep in mind that they're a bit fractured. If the eyes are taken then the visions won't be nearly as useful. They've also picked up the 'past, present, and future' habit," Quinton told them, "But we have an accord. Unless you're looking for some blessings or wards I should be getting back to work."

"We're not trying to rack up debts."

Order said bluntly, answering both declaration and question with a single statement. Ever the more eloquent of the two, Empathy moved quickly to smooth things over.

"What's she's trying to say is that we're not interested in delivering faulty product."

She smiled, slowly ambling back towards the SUV.

"Don't get a lot of repeat customers with faulty product."

Order added, throwing a small wave before moving to the driver's seat.

"A pleasure, Quinton, we'll be in touch."

She said by way of parting, slipping him one of the eggshell cards from its silver case and climbing into the passenger seat.

"I accept all major credit cards and cash at reasonable rates," Quinton shot back cheerfully, tucking the card into his front shirt pocket as he climbed into the truck, "Good hunting."

The next two gas stops were without additional meetings and found them finally on the outskirts of NYC as dawn just started tainting the horizon.

Order made a big show of yawning and rubbing her eyes, as if she was tuckered out from the all nighter. Entropy didn't even bother to acknowledge the act, as since their mutual palingenesis, neither had possessed even the slightest need for sleep. Neither had they needed food, or water, or even air if either of them were counting.

"I'll text Phil."

Entropy said, pulling out her phone and comprising a text notifying their host that they had arrived.

"I'll get us a flight to Vegas."

Order added, smiling behind her sunglasses. She liked New York, but she absolutely loved Las Vegas. The idea that they needed to be there for an indeterminate amount of time meant she'd essentially been gloating since they'd left the crossroads.

Phil's First Text: No one should be up this early. Leave me to nurse this dear hangover.

Twenty seconds later: Want a ride sent? He's doing morning inspections, should be in the office in another hour or so.

How long until the flight? Are the Twins suspecting that this will be done one way or another by the end of the day or setting aside a few days?

Entropy had been listening to Der Ring des Nibelungen for the last three hours, browsing online repositories of Norse Mythology to give her a baseline on what they were getting themselves into. What she'd read wasn't particularly encouraging, but neither had it been a deal breaker. They would make an honest attempt of it, and let the dice fall where they lay. Being back in the City, even for just a few hours that evening, would certainly be a good call. The miasma that followed them would touch millions of minds, even if they ended up leaving on a midnight flight. Besides, they didn't know how long this would take. Querying the multiverse just to see when they should book a flight was a bit counterproductive, especially when their flight club status ensured that they could move it as needed. Order would book a flight that night on the off chance that they'd be done here, but neither of them really counted on it.

Entropy texted Phil the address of one of their favorite cafes in Brooklyn, along with a note that they'd be there in one hour, and would appreciate the ride. Order could have just driven them, but SUVs were hardly a wise idea in the City, and it positioned themselves as Phil's responsibility to manage. Doing so gave them at least the illusion of guest right.

Fafner might not care, but it was still best practice.

The café was as they remembered and even with the morning crowd they warranted a table moments after stepping through the doors. Service rendered with due alacrity it was terribly easy to recognize their ride. Phil has sent a Rolls Royce from the late 1940s, a Silver Wraith in black and bronze.

Even New York Traffic gave the thing a polite berth, possibly terrified of anything that expensive casually stopping at a Brooklyn café. Phil stepped out after parking and spotted the Twins through the window, offering a polite nod.

"Oh, he's got class."

Order teased her sister quietly, allowing the far more charismatic of the two to handle the actual greeting. She'd agonized for almost an hour on her appearance that morning, opting for an athletic woman with Eastern European features who couldn't have been more than 5'3". She had the thighs and shoulders of a professional athlete, despite likely not weighing more than 140lbs. The cauliflower left ear and poorly set nose complimented the look, suggesting a history of boxing or something in MMA. She ditched the Italian suit for a sky blue blazer and slacks over an open popped collar, though she'd kept the shades from two nights previously. It was a rather ridiculous look, the sort someone new to money might adopt. Entropy, for her part, gave Phil a friendly wave. She'd needed to use the bathroom in the café to change, though blessedly she'd had no need to freshen up. Well, not blessedly, but a similar enough sentiment. She'd adopted a cream colored button up that had been tailored for her at her usual tailor, a hidden gem on the Eastside of Brooklyn that you needed a referral to call, tucked under a simple black pencil skirt. The two complimented each other perfectly, as long as she was going for professional and austere. It reeked of old money, making the two of them an odd pair.

"Hello there Phil. Your choice of wheels or your liege's?"

She asked once they were in speaking distance. Order moved to open the door, her demeanor and appearance suggesting that she was Entropy's body guard for the morning.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:00, Thu 04 Nov 2021.

"Mine, sadly she's not all original. Had to manufacture some replacement parts for the engine but the frame and fixtures are original," Phil said proudly as he ran a hand along the hood, "And added seatbelts just to avoid casual law enforcement harassment. Took me every weekend for two months, got an Aston Martin lined up next."

He shook his head.

"I'm playing chauffer today and we should be going. Help yourself to anything in the minibar but try not to spill it, yeah?"

Flirting was technically a good strategy in these sorts of situations.

Order had been the one who'd found Karremans et al. (2009), and had laughed nearly to tears as she had laid out the numerous followup studies on men's cognitive decline when there was a conventionally attractive woman in the room. The icing on the cake had been the study that had found that said woman didn't even need to be in the room for the decline to be noticeable. The researchers just had to say she was next-door, looking in behind a one way mirror, and it could be observed. A little touch on the shoulder, a little smile at the right moment, would have been more than enough to shave off a few IQ points. But, effective as it might have been, it just wasn't either of their style. It wasn't about ethics, or any sense of fair play. They were just effective enough at garnering advantages that they didn't need to manage the possible repercussions of that particular strategy. It was a cost benefits analysis, and they'd concluded early on that the costs were always more annoying than the results.

Not bigger, just more of a pain in the ass.

So she let the opportunity pass, and kept things professional as they got in. Entropy in the passenger seat, Order in the back.

"Indulgences like this are what makes it all worth it, in the end."

She mused, brushing an errant strand of black hair back behind her ear.

"When this business is done, email us a list of the manufactured parts. No promises, but we'll see what we can do."

They settled in, ready to go.

"Appreciated but it's good to have some sweat equity in a project," Phil told her. He drove like a very boring person which in this city should have put them at risk. They ended up at a very famous building sporting the name of a very infamous politician. He had a reserved spot in the underground garage.

"Top floor," Phil tells them, holding up a blank white card, "You want to add me to the mix or is this a more intimate affair?"

Order actually took this one, which was rare for her.

"If you don't come along, and they really get into contract negotiation, I'm going to have no one to talk to."

She said from behind her glasses, which hadn't come off the whole trip. Entropy teased her for them constantly, and yet every face she chose seemed to come with the accessory.

"A quick primer suggests that isn't the Sin your liege is generally guilty of, you should join us."

She turned and reached out a hand to them both, linking arms with Order and Phil, if he allowed it. Either way, she was walking towards the elevator with purpose.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:57, Thu 11 Nov 2021.

"Sin is perhaps the wrong word. We all have our cornucopia of vices," Phil answered as Entropy took his arm. The elevator is nice but bland, with three levels of parking and 58 floors. With the card inserted into the slot beneath the numbers it began to rise smoothly. It seemed they warranted an express override. At floor 58 it slowed down, then changed to 00 before opening.

The foyer had three doors, one directly across from the elevator bank and one to either side, the doors were stained glass in wrought iron frames while the floor was a cream colored marble.

"Just to be clear, don't touch anything inside without being invited to do so. I've never seen someone successfully take anything but he's like a single child when it comes to his toys."

Order had already folded her hands behind her back, smiling at Phil as they rode the way up. As the doors opened, Entropy led the way, her heels clicking sharply on the marble floor. However, when she got to the wrought iron door she paused, waiting for Phil to open it. Apparently, she took the whole "don't touch anything" instructions seriously.

"Nothing you can swipe, smartass," Phil told her with rolled eyes before he pushed the door open.

Nearly a third of the floor was composed of this room. In the center there was a desk the size of a small car that had been polished less to a shine than a gleam. It was a working space, to the left as they entered was a series of opened crates, the desk in the center had a variety of brushes, lenses, and small tools, while the right was all but buried in display cases.

The entirety of gold mined in human history would roughly fill an Olympic Pool. This room had enough for a comfortable hot tub. Add in the artwork, jewels, and weapons. You could buy a developing nation outright, or make a hell of a down payment on a developed one.

Their host was sitting at the desk, gaunt, black skinned, hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a Savoy Row suit. He had a golden cross on he desk, inspecting it with a jewelers loup.

He looked up as they entered, eyes a shade of bronze.

Entropy drew close, but was careful not to touch the desk or take a seat without being offered. Order lurked a half dozen places behind, her eyes scanning the room behind her glasses.

"Greetings, Fáfnir, son of Hreidmar."

She'd done her research, and figured that naming the Dragon's former brothers was probably a bad call. Even naming his father might set him off, considering the archetype he was personifying, but she figured it was worth the risk. The old forms of respect, the old ways, best to stick to tradition.

"I would share bread and salt with you in your domain."

Order held up the bag containing the half dozen bagels and schemer she'd picked up from the café that morning. Technically, if they were claiming guest rite it should be Fáfnir offering the meal, but they'd agreed that it was wise not to ask him to share anything he owned. Bread and salt was steeped in ritual, but sea-salted bagels would do in a pinch.

"Your man thinks Telos LLC might be of service to you, and from what the splendor I'm seeing here, I'm inclined to agree."

"So he tells me. You may leave cousin, I offer them my aegis until tomorrow's dawn. Actually I believe Jacqueline happens to be pining in her office," Fafner told the Hispanic man, his eyes briefly taking a vertical pupil before he leaned back, "And I prefer Nicholas. The other tends to exacerbate bits of my personality best left sleeping."

Phil looked to Entropy before he gave a nod and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

"Please, have a seat. You might be interested in this little bauble."

Entropy nodded at the offer of aegis, and didn't even bother to bind the words. Instead she just took a seat, folding her legs and giving the Dragon her undivided attention.

"A bauble?"

She arched an eyebrow inquiringly, not reaching for the proffered item if it was presented.

Nicholas pressed the jeweler's glass towards them and held out the crucifix in mute offer.

"Warned you about the obsession I take it. You can touch," he smiled before his eyes did their shutter-shift for a moment, "Just do not think to take without consideration."

Entropy nodded, accepting first the crucifix and then the jeweler's glass. She opened herself up as she did so, plunging her mind into the multiverse and cycling through the endless possibilities. Her Intention was easy to shape, a simple crafting in the grand scheme of things, and yet never so.

What can I do to impress this man, this Dwarf, this Dragon?

There was a strange joy in simplicity, even as she plunged through the infinite layers of reality to find the one that best served her purpose. It did not mean that the answer would be simple, in her best interest, or even possible for her to achieve. The joy was not in the doing, but the knowing. The unwinding of the pattern into the concrete, the deciphering of the indecipherable and processing an unimaginable amount of information with nothing but a blink of her eyes.

Fafnir is attempting to recreate a specific item from his horde. Andvaranaut, the treasure that draws other treasures. His nature and talents tend to draw some riches to him but his holdings are paltry by his own standards. He's not even the richest creature on the damned city for Siegfried's sake!

The cross is gold gilded wood, an actual antique probably worth a few hundred thousand. It looks like two gems are missing from their setting.

"I purchased a pair of gems and the delivery seems to have been interrupted," Nicholas tells them, "My agents further west are very much a work in progress."

Entropy handed it to Order, who waggled her eyebrows suggestively at her sister behind her shades, but then bent to inspect the crucifix. She did not mention prices, there was no point in doing so. As with the sister's three, she was vastly more interested in favored owed than stock options.  They were old school like that.

"Does that mean you've yet to eliminate the possibility that it was an inside job?"

Entropy asked, not bothering to pull her punches.

"Or just that they've got no leads?"

"It was not an inside job. They were merely prepared for the wrong opposition and my influence is still very localized," Nicholas replied with a frown, "So I have engaged professionals to purchase the items from the new owner. Brute force might work but is unacceptably expensive for now."

He laughed.

"I can always find treasure, just as you always know where to find leverage. By the numbers I could kill and take them easily but our natures are ill suited for such a conflict."

There were a number of angles he could be looking to play on this, and she didn't believe in playing games of chance. He hadn't done anything to suggest she needed to be discreet with her words, merely with her actions. He wasn't looking for a war, and in truth, neither were the Twins.

"There are a variety of services we could provide you, depending on your preferences and needs. Are you looking to reacquire said missing assets discreetly, acquire for yourself more militant assets that might change the status of any potential conflict, or are you looking for a mediator to negotiate with this third party and perhaps bring the price down to an acceptable level?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:05, Sun 12 Dec 2021.

"The gems are not, strictly, essential. Substantial effort and time would be needed to find a substitute. My trouble is the opportunity cost of such delays," Nicholas told her, fingers steepled, "Every extra month compounds the losses permanently."

He snorted at the list.

"I explicitly do not want to start a war over this. I send lawyers and solicitors, not thieves and soldiers. Price matters rather little, a few million is trivial."

That was good, brokering a war with a rival Mythos was probably not the best way to make their introduction into the larger scene. It certainly looked good on a CV, but it was simply too messy of an affair. Calculating every little possible contingency sounded exhausting, and she hadn't actually needed to sleep since the spark of her own Infernal Divinity had awoken within herself and her sister.

"A mediator then."

She said with finality.

"We'll ask your man to provide us a list of exactly how much you are and aren't willing to pay, and reach out to them the moment we return to our office. Are they in the City? We were planning on leaving tonight, but plans can be adjusted as needed."

"Of course. The eyes are proving quite contested," Nicholas agreed, "For purposes of simplicity I would prefer to issue a corporate card than have you report expenses. Per diem tends to vary too much for my taste."

Entropy once again found themselves grateful that her transformation had resulted in an arrest of pretty much all of the vast array of messy biological functions that typically plagued human beings. In this case, she found herself grateful of not needing to breath, because it meant there was no need to suppress the sigh that might have otherwise been forming within her chest. All the irritating little pheromonal, hormonal, and other biochemical reactions she might otherwise be burdened with had been silenced, leaving her with a level of clarity she had never believed possible. It wasn't an absence of emotion. Anyone who thought themselves logically superior by virtue of being cut off from their emotions was a fool. Emotions governed thought just as much as the reverse, often more, and pretending that one was isolated from them was the surest way to guarantee that they were the true power behind the throne. No, this was something else. An awareness an understanding of her emotional state without needing to be immersed in it. Experiencing them simultaneously from within, but also with the outside advantage of perspective.

She had suspected the moment the Dwarf had handed her a crucifix with two missing gemstones that ,Telos LLC'sservices were running the risk of being double booked. The fact that he had referred to the gems as "eyes" had sealed the deal. It was no matter of luck that had led her to voicing the pledges she had made, both to the agent of the Three Sisters before and to this Dwarven Lord now, in the manner that she had. Ever ready for unexpected contingencies, she had been careful to not commit them to any path that could be considered a conflict of interest. At least, not a direct one.

"To ensure that there is no conflict of interest present, a fair amount of disclosure will be required from all sides of this. This was, to put it frankly, a matter that was already on the top of Telos LLC's radar. Thus far, none of the parties involved have escalated the issue to anything beyond placing bounties for successful delivery, hence my question to you about intent. As things stand, current models suggest that any reasonable progress on our end would quickly escalate things into a bidding war between the interested parties. Should you still wish to retain our services to act as mediator, our roll would be to facilitate that bidding war to its resolution. Is that still an acceptable position?"

And a whole universe hinged on his answer to that question.

"Are you a professional?" Nicholas asked as he leaned back and crossed his ankles, "Because if there is a conflict of interest between clients most professionals need approval from each side to proceed. While pragmatically a bidding war favors me, co-opting an agent is the definition of poaching."

He nodded towards the windows, to the sprawling city below.

"I do not wish to ignite the coming war a moment earlier than required. The are always more expensive and profit only rent-seekers."

Entropy did not allow the slight to so much as register on her features, let alone permit any bite play out in her words. She could have launched into a speech about how one of the many advantages to retaining the services of Telos LLC is that they operated on an entirely metaphysical plane, contractually speaking. While she was not at liberty to discuss the name or nature of their other clients, nor the specifics of the contracts binding them to said interests, he would certainly need no lecture to know that it was antithetical to their very existence on a fundamental level to engage in bad faith. Without knowing the wording she had used, he would not know that they would oathbound to deliver the Eyes to the Three Sisters, should they acquire said assets. However, the definition of "acquire" in "acquire the assets" was both broad and narrow, allowing for a considerable amount of creative interpretation.

She didn't say any of that, however, she didn't need to considering her audience.

"We swore an oath."

Nor did she need to say that the heat death of the universe would not be enough to make them break it.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:47, Thu 06 Jan 2022.