It was midday Saturday with pleasant weather in June, you had better bet your ass that the park was crowded as hell today. Clouds passed quickly across the sky in bunches, offering relief from the bright sun and bringing a summer-hot wind along with it. No rain, though, not in the immediate forecast, so the park was not denied its typical weekend burst of life.
The good news about being surrounded by a sea of joggers with their dogs, clutches of friends playing volleyball or frisbee, and families with their kids picnicing and playing on the playgrounds?
Food trucks. Plenty of them, parked in a line in the parking lot for the lunchtime push. There were a couple of stands on the other end of the park, too-- mobile, smaller, one offering tacos, one offering falafels, and a third offering drinks and ice cream and other summertime confections. It was at the last cart that Margot was standing in conversation with Dr. Sepúlveda while handing a couple of dollar bills to the mustached man running the cart, accepting an iced coffee drink in a plastic to-go cup in return.
They were in a middle of a conversation turned on a more mundane hinge thanks to the ears (and mustache) right in front of them.
"I'm thinking maybe I'll switch jobs and work at a bookstore instead, to keep an eye out for things to add to my Library all the better. The dispensary's probably not going to have any curious tomes passing over its counter anytime soon."
Sepúlveda
Between the strip club, the Verbena's abode, and the brunch place up on Colfax - where the waitress was glad to see him actually interacting with other people and not just yelling at the two kids who, as far as she can tell, are his parolees or probates or foster kids or god knows what people think when they see Margot and Ned getting chewed out by Dr. Sepúlveda - the Etherite has been having an awful lot of outside time the last twenty-four hours.
Before he goes home, he extracts the kids from their respective places of dwelling with like 15 anchor emojis and a question mark.
And now here we are.
Despite the heat of the day, the Doc is wearing jeans, loafers, and a yellow button-down work shirt underneath a cardigan. His hair is a mess and his glasses could use a polish, but he seems to be in a decent enough mood.
As they wait for Ned to show up, he considers Margot's observations. His eyebrows lift up as if to ask if he's supposed to respond, then sucks an answer out of an eyetooth and says, "If it does, run."
Very funny.
"What sort of 'things' are you looking for?"
Margot
Today Margot was dressed in a china-blue-and-white printed sundress, capped sleeves with a low back and skirt that was loose enough for the breeze to tug but not lift from where it hunt above her knees. Her hair was down, a straw sunhat on her head in lieu of sunglasses. Flip flops, though, simple and broken in for park strolling. Her face wore its standard amount of make-up, which is to say minimal, and she found time somewhere in the mix to paint her short fingernails a bright sunshiney yellow.
She sipped her coffee and wandered idle away from the concessions cart, but didn't walk with direction or purpose so as not to lose the designated meet point and thereby lose or miss Ned. The game of 'where are you?' text tag was not one of her favorites.
"I don't really know. I'm hoping to add more things on Prime and Entropy to my shelves, right now they're pretty heavy with medical texts and Spirits and other dimensions. That stuff is easy enough to pick up, is the more insightful stuff that I want a chance to find."
Sepúlveda
Sepúlveda scratches at the crook of his jaw, short nails singing against the growth of beard. Thinking. His own library is expansive. The reason he's renting a suite instead of a room at the Crawford is twofold: he wants to be able to put the kids up if they get into trouble, and he has too many damned books to crash at a bedbug motel by the highway.
Besides. There's a bar downstairs. He might never leave the Crawford.
"You planning on becoming the initiate of a tradition any time soon?"
Ned
Ned shows up with a careful layer of avoidance in his gait and demeanour. His brow has been permanently furrowed for the last week and a bit and one might think this a normal state of affairs. He's taken to t-shirts, blacks, navy blues and the occasional white, with pairs of loose fitting jeans. His converse have been traded in for a nice pair of firm cross-trainers. He's sporting a belt and something like a small harness at his hip, cinched to the belt via a loop. It looks long and slender and empty.
He weaves around various bodies, taking little notice of their brief glances or Saturday afternoon 'pardons' that are few and far between. The careful steps and easy motions came more comfortably now, given he was starting to actively pursue the odd 'anonymity' that hovered around him like a second skin.
Spying the Doc and Margot wasn't difficult. A week ago (not long after The Incident) Ned had opted to download an app onto Margot's phone that tracked Friend locations. She could glance at her phone and know where he was, so long as it was on and vice versa.
"...Working on it." Was his reply to the Doc, a scattered glance cast at the man before eyeballing the Verbena-to-be. "Last I checked though, the options for who to talk to were...limited. Didn't you say you had a line on someone who could make you an offer?"
Margot
Perhaps the question about traditions had been aimed at Margot, but it was Ned's voice that had answered. He'd come up from the side, and Margot startled just enough to turn her head sharply to find him. For a moment she eyeballed Ned back (something different there, the Doc may pick up-- a tension, not caution not anger, not the kind of tense that came from fighting but it was something), then let her gaze get pulled away as a particularly young and fluffy puppy ran by with its human on a leash.
"....I'm still going through some formalities, but I've spoken to a couple of Verbena. I think that's going to work."
She sipped her coffee and wished that she wasn't wearing a dress so that she had a place to tuck her other hand away.
Sepúlveda
[i love rolling empathy so much]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (5, 6, 8) ( success x 2 )
Sepúlveda
And the Doc does pick up on the exaggerated startle reflex in his younger pupil. It isn't a proper panic attack, but she just jump enough that he can tell it was Ned's arrive and the suddenness of it that spooked her.
Rather than drawing attention to it, Sepúlveda does something that will either betray the depths of his capacity for giving a shit, or will make it seem as if he didn't even notice. He does nothing. Just keeps his hands in the pockets of his jeans and heaves a heavy sigh when Ned asks his question.
"If you think it will, it will," he says, to the matter of the Verbenae working for Margot. Out of one of his pockets comes the flask, from which he takes a hard pull. Points at Ned with the finger of the hand holding the flask and frowns, pointed, before putting away the flask. "I said what?"
Ned
"Was talking to Margot."
Ned corrected himself and the Doc together, head bobbing toward her momentarily.
"She mentioned someone that Nick and Pen were going to introduce her to. A while ago..." A pause. Frowning. "I think..." Shaking his head. "I need to have a sit down with Nick. Once I'm sure he doesn't try to convert me to love all the animals and disney princess' damselling, I'm going to apply for the Euthanatos." If Ned seems at all disturbed, cautious or afraid of their surroundings and who might be overhearing them he doesn't let on. This conversation seems to be happening at a careful pace, wandering in no particular direction at all.
His hands jam into his pockets.
"...We need a place to live." Switching lanes with the fluidity of the abrupt. "...And I put in my two weeks notice."
Margot
1````
Sepúlveda
[hi hazel!]
Margot
Margot's eyebrows hopped up in mild surprise when Ned said he was talking to her, like she was under the impression that the question had been for Doc as well. Then she blinked and nodded her head. Popped the coffee drink straw from her mouth to answer.
"Yeah, Thane. And Thane introduced me to this Kat woman, who's a real insightful badass. She's a disciple of War, too."
Ambling onward, she listened while Ned explained that he was going to apply for the Euthanatos (in a move that no one saw coming). Her gaze cast forward and to the side, like she was fly fishing for anything else to pay attention to in that moment. Coffee straw went back into her mouth and she found some geese on the pond to watch paddling instead. She only had enough time to watch them paddle a dozen meters before the subject of quitting ones job cropped up.
"Shit, already?" She asked Ned, sounding surprised and looking (as usual) worried.
Sepúlveda
Overtop Margot:
"The fuck'd you do that for?" He rubs his temple with the middle and ring fingers of his left hand, like he's got a headache brewing. Before Ned can answer he goes on: "Good to hear you two have plans."
Because they didn't get a chance to talk about it the night he patched up Ned's collapsed lung, bitching the entire time but not asking too many questions.
Ned
"Makes sense. I don't want to be there anymore and...Well after learning Entropy...I didn't think hospitals could get anymore depressing, really." Ned's frown is deeper, thicker at the mention of this and his head rocks to one side as if to physically clear the expression from his face.
"Doing things officially, means I can maybe look into another area that isn't so time intensive. Pay will be less and really, most of my money goes towards takeout and transportation anyway." A pause. Abruptness: "I gotta start riding my bike more."
Then around at the people they are passing by, as if he'd only just noticed where they are and what normal folks do in situations like this.
"I've got a plan for the near future. Distant is another story..." That frown threatens again. "I want to know how 'safe' we are here and how much or many threats I need to learn about."
Sepúlveda
With the most long-suffering sighs in the history of long-suffering sighs, Andrés takes a few steps away from the kids, wanders off to the shade of an oak tree, and sits down. Or... flops, is more like it, since he ends up on his back.
"The Choir was right," he says, to himself and knowing full well they can still hear him. "The One is punishing me."
Margot
The point about the hospital being all the more depressing with Entropy in the picture was accepted with a nod and Margot contented herself with watching geese and ducks and puppy dogs again. She got several steps away after Doc veered to the side and Ned no doubt lagged to continue the conversation with him. Stopped after she realized she was walking alone, turned around, frowned a little, and walked back to stand on the edge of the shadow-splot of the tree that Doc had flopped beneath.
"The Distant Future could range anywhere from dead in the dirt to Ascension, there's no sense in planning it in much detail," she offered over to Ned, then glanced down to where Doc was laying in the grass.
"I think with what we know we're safest here... Just here, in Denver, where we know people and have help. Outside of that, we're just going to need to learn to ward and banish to stay safe."
Sepúlveda
The Doc peels his glasses off his face and lets them lie bridge-down across his chest, showing no intention or sign of getting back up just yet. Grass gets in his hair and the daylight brings out the green in his eyes and something about the far-off sounds of laughing children and chirping birds and splashing fountains really brings out the surreality of their existences.
This is the reality into which they have Awakened. It doesn't have to be like this. If Sepúlveda decided he wanted to turn the grass purple, he could. One would have to ask why, though, given the backlash bitch-slap he recently absorbed.
"Edward," he says, "based on my own anecdotal evidence, you're safer here than you are in any of the major coastal cities. You're definitely safer here than you are in Chicago. Never go to Mexico. Not because of the drug cartels, sabes, because of the vampires."
Ned
"I hear punishment with God often comes with lessons yet to be learned."
Like it was read off the back of a fortune cookie. Ned veers clear of the other people pushing and shoving past, doing his level best to remain out of their radar which isn't difficult. Arcane made him the 'third member' of this little party, folks would pay less attention to over someone like the Doc (loud and shit givingless) or Margot (Pretty and Expressive).
"I don't want to move cities or pack up and be elsewhere. I want to be better at protecting myself and others. Distant future is all robots and skynet for all I know. I'm more concerned about Localized Distant, as opposed to global. How to make home..." A hand thrown around at the park "...Denver, safe for us. That includes resisting kidnappings, hostages, eavesdropping and ugliness cropping up on repeat." A pause, Ned's purposefully keeping out of the shade of the tree, to one side, face turned up into the sun.
"...Or at least learn how to anticipate." A hand rises to scrub at his chin. "Entropy's helping with that, though."
Margot
The comment about vampires in Mexico piqued some interest in Margot. Certainly she'd heard about the Mexican plauge of vampirism before, and she was starting to piece together that some of the monsters and fairy tale creatures she'd read about throughout her youth were actually real. Nobody needed to tell her directly that fairies were real. Nobody had to tell her that werewolves were either. Now, of course, she knew nothing of their mechanics societies or politics just yet, but the 'just yet' was the emphasized point in that sentence. Margot was a smart little student. She'd figure all this out given the chance and a point in the right direction.
Ned expressed that he wanted to be able to set up a shop, a home, and keep it safe and protected. She nodded her agreement, and mused quiet and somber.
"I'm reading about the spirits in particular. The Gauntlet's just.... there's too much come and go, spirits crossing over and bringing things back. I'm going to learn to..." She searched for the right word, and even went so far as to reach into the air in front of her with her palm up, fingers curled, like she could pluck what she was trying to say from the very air.
"...To calcify the Gauntlet. Shove things back across and then seal off the door they came in through. I'm close. I'm pretty sure I'm close."
Then she looked down to Doc and tipped her head aside. Moved the hand that had been word-hunting to stop her hat from slipping off her head when she did. "Doc, I think what Ned's getting at is that all of this would be easier, keeping each other safe, if we didn't all go to sleep in different places at night. The salt on my window sill still only does as much good as my prayers and a rosary would right now. I can't ward up my home, Ned can't his."
Ned
"...And given your history of 'volatile relations' I would think having outside perspectives around to keep an eye on you, would ultimately be better..."
Ned offers on the tail end of Margot's words. Unapologetic, expectant almost.
Sepúlveda
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."
He's going to stick to his contention that the volatile relation in question wouldn't have gone so bad if it weren't for the kids antagonizing the Kha'vadi woman, thank you very much.
For this next bit he sits up, using his core muscles rather than his appendages, more graceful than he looks, and takes another swig once he's upright again. His glasses topple to the grass. He leaves them there a moment.
"The odds of you two doing anything of any use to keep me safe is so small I can't--" He puts on his glasses. Squints. "Nope. Still can't... still can't see it. The odds. Because of how small they are. Your outside perspective means precisely dick to me, Ned." He stifles a burp. "If you two want to come play Sleepover at my hotel room, that's... that's fine, but the first time I hear you two... making out, or whatever it is you do in your spare time, through the wall, no more Sleepover."
Grace
She doesn't pick up on the entire conversation, does Grace. Only Margot's worries about wards, and Ned's about volatile relations. She knows what he means by that, she thinks.
Now, Grace, today, is not the most reassuring sort of person to bump into. Mike makes sure that she sleeps, at least, so she doesn't quite look like she's been pulling so many all-nighters it must be finals season. But she's taut -- tense like perhaps there is something to be worried about out there.
"You guys... Hey."
Margot
"Making out?" Margot cast a look at the Doc that was all incredulity. "I'm beginning to suspect that you really do think we're fourteen year olds...."
Then, suddenly, a wild Grace appeared. For a second time that midday there in the park a voice announced a presence prior to the face and body doing so, and for a second time Margot startled with a small bodily jerk and sloshed the ice of her coffee around when she did so. Had there been no lid then there's a chance it would've spilled down her arm, but bless to-go cups and their foresight for clumsy spills.
"Oh," she said, sounding relieved when she found Grace to be the person who had broken from the crowd of park-goers to say hello.
"Grace, hey. How are ya?"
Margot? She looked okay. That was really the best word for it-- like somebody who didn't sleep enough and worried way too much but still had enough give-a-shit about perceptions that she stood in the sun and pretended that neither of those were the case.
Ned
"A house, Doc. With many layers of walls between me and whatever pervy nonsense you get up to-"
Ned pauses those words when Grace arrives. He isn't so much surprised as he is changing gears, body moving around in a tight circle to grant Grace a bit more surface area beneath the shade of the tree they are 'lounging' under. His smile is tight, tiny and his attention brief, catching her gaze should she throw it at him, momentarily before lifting his face back into the sun.
"...Suns out. Should put any lingering worries you may have about my undeadness to rest." His smile is a bit needling, though the tone doesn't have enough bite to make it sarcasm. "You need more sleep, Lady." Abruptly delivered, eyes peeling open to scan over Grace's features and frame.
Sepúlveda
Sepúlveda stares at Ned for a good three beats of silence, his brain flooded with so many one-liners that they gum up the entire works. He chases down the remnants with a wash of tequila or whatever the hell he actually has in his flask.
"Gracia!" he says. "How's that OCR scan coming?"
To his students: "A bunch of apprentices have gone missing in Colorado Springs, two out of five of them murdered, and I have a sneaking suspicion whoever did it is paying off the El Paso ME's office, because there's, like, no evidence from either of the crime scenes." A pause. "Oh, shit, did I forget to tell you guys about that? I can't think of what was going on a couple weeks ago that I wouldn't--"
Grace
She can do that, at times -- pop out of nowhere, like the crowd or the background just ejected a person you know. Sometimes, she'll announce her presence by doing something strange in the distance, but that's only if she remembers. It's hard to notice that you are hard to notice.
"I sleep plenty," she replies to Ned. "I have someone making damn sure of that, trust me."
But there, an admission: she needs someone to make sure she sleeps instead of just losing herself in the chase.
"OCRing it, I don't know. I was just going to grab the real deal. I can't stand printouts."
She gives Margot a smile. Don't worry, dear. It'll be fine. "You guys looking for a place to live?"
Margot
If Margot seemed a little solemn earlier (despite the bright sunny summery outfit), that was nothing compared to how very grim she became when Doc began to speak of Apprentices going missing and how some of them had been murdered. Grace's arrival had been a welcome one, given how a touch of the worry in the corners of Margot's eyes and mouth had faded away, but what good the Virtual Adept's appearance had served to the would-be Verbena's sense of calm was quickly washed away.
"We were out of town." She said this quick and sharp at the end of Sepúlveda's open-ended musing about what was happening in the past few weeks that may have caused this news to escape his pupils/cabalmates/kids/whatever-the-fuck-that-relationship-was.
Grace's question was absorbed with a brief flutter of hazel eyes back in her direction. "More like hammering out details for cohabitation," she explained, and then looked back to Doc again with a serious weight to her expression, and dragging her shoulders down as well.
"Isn't anyone besides some paid-off police looking into the matter? You know, someone like us?"
Sepúlveda
I have someone making damn sure of that, trust me.
"Gross," he says, and takes another drink.
Ned
"...And that never stopped you from Text bombing us before..."
Ned chimes in after Margot, murmuring it with little to no force. If anything, Ned's own concern and worry suddenly goes inward and he seems to pull his attention back from the conversation, allowing Margot to take the first steps in the matter by asking questions.
Sepúlveda
"What never stopped me from text bombing you before?"
Margot
"Distance," Margot sounded clipped and anxious and heard it in her own voice as soon as the word snapped out off her tongue. She closed her eyes, took a breath in through her nose, then tried again.
"I'm sorry. Please, though, come on. What's happening with the apprentices?"
Grace
Grace gives Dr. Sepúlveda the look of pure confusion. "What's gross about sleeping?"
She stops, considers the tree. Still can't figure it out. Decides to drop that thread, because whenever she gets confused like this, it doesn't bode well.
"I am looking into it. Though, I just found out about it, and don't have a whole lot to go on," she says. "Apparently, there were a lot of new Mages in Colorado Springs. There aren't anymore. And whoever's doing it is sweeping their tracks."
Sepúlveda
"There's a Chorister on the CSPD who caught wind of what was happening, she mentioned it to me, I scraped up what little evidence the perp or whoever was helping the perp left behind, I gave it to Grace. We're handling it."
That said: "Hey, Grace, that hitman you're shacking up with, I want to sell him an initiate. You think you can get me an estimate?"
Ned
"Sweeping how? Cleaning kill sites? Bodies missing?"
Ned pauses to stare around at the Normals that are haunting the area. His voice is purposefully low and he takes that moment to step a little closer so as to allow his voice to lower.
"...And how far outside of the Springs do the murders go? Is it just that area so far?"
Sepúlveda
"It's just that area. If you want to help, do nothing. I need to have to rescue you two from a serial killer like I need a hole in my head."
Margot
Grace explained what she knew and what she was doing, and the Doc followed up by cutting to the meat of the topic by explaining the situation in an overview. It must have become apparent that Margot wasn't handling the toying around very well.
Do you see the tandem at play here? Margot had begun voicing questions and finding information initially and Ned had fallen quiet. Now here, where he was inquiring about the murder radius, Margot had discovered silence in turn. Doc spoke of rescuing them from a serial killer and Margot's jaw clenched, lips pressed thin, and brow furrowed heavily-- a hard scowl at a fresh and horrible memory.
Following that she found a spot in the distance behind the tree to stare into unfocused, and took to slowly sipping the rest of her iced coffee through the straw. A perfect excuse not to speak as any. That hard frowning moment disconnected her from the discussion and now she seemed to be tuned out and waiting for it to end.
Or grappling with something in her mind and heart on the spot and trying not to lapse into a panicked state.
Maybe all of the above.
Grace
"He's not... exactly a hit man, and you..." Know that. It's just Andrés Sepúlveda being himself. Right. "Want to sell him an initiate?"
She sighs. The man is incomprehensible at best.
"And yeah. As far as anyone can tell, the murderer left only a partial fingerprint and a single hair behind, in five murders. Something fishy's going on, definitely."
She turns her attentions back toward the actual people, notices the discomfort in the area. "Look, after this investigation shit is over, I have a project you guys might be interested in. I've got some money burning a hole in multiple bank accounts just waiting to be spent on some real estate. An apartment complex, you know? For people like us. You'd be able to 'cohabitate' with a lot more ease, maybe?"
Ned
"You tried looking for the ghosts of the victims? I can't imagine awakened dead, being horribly murdered is going to leave a particularly restful spirit."
Ned and Margot both had some experience dealing with that. Well...once. Unpleasantly. It nearly got them killed by Zombies. That had been....fun? No, wrong word. Regardless, Ned seems almost to ignore the Doc's mention of Serial Killers and rescuing them, directing the question toward Grace....which of course, was probably more to do with Doc's irreverent take on Ghosts and the Spirit Sphere in general.
"Relax, Doc." Ned finally turns to look at Andres. "Margot and I are taking a hiatus from 'rushing in to Scooby Doo things'. The more questions I have answers for though, the more likely I can take precautions going to and from home, incase whoever or whatever this is, decides Colorado Springs is all dried up and wants to make a move to bigger pastures."
Then back toward Grace at mention of 'Money' and 'Apartment Complex'.
"Isn't that sort of putting all our eggs in one basket? And wouldn't the multitudes of conflicting Paradigms make for a Paradox buffet of epic proportions?"
Sepúlveda
Want to sell him an initiate?
At least Andrés thinks Andrés is funny. He takes a swallow from the flask instead of answering and looks over his shoulder to make sure Margot hasn't gone too far away. No remorse in his gaze, though it's hard to tell with the glare over his glasses and the fact that he tries to keep his emotional range between Excited and Annoyed.
You tried looking for the ghosts of the victims?
He flicks his eyebrows and cants his head to one side. No. No he did not try that. Because he has no training in Spirit. Still, it's not a bad idea.
Drink.
Margot
[Get out of your head, Margot]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 4, 6, 10) ( success x 2 )
Margot
Margot's silence stretched out long enough that she came back in around talk of moving on from Colorado Springs and into bigger, greener pastures. Her eyes had been out of focus and she was drifting nearer and nearer to the middle distance that she stared at, and thusly further and further inward (rescue you from a serial killer.... we don't need rescuing, we just proved that... how'd you handle the serial killer, Margot? what did you do? what did you do? what did you--).
With a sudden sniff Margot came back to, ducked her head and lifted her hand. The wide brim of her hat hid her face from view so that she could more effectively pretend to be catching a bug or bit of pollen out of her eye. In reality she was brushing away tears and scrubbing at her eyelids fiercely with her fingertips and coaching herself to get it the fuck together.
When she lifted her head to show her face again she looked like she was about ready to cry, or like she had only just recovered from crying perhaps. She sniffed a little again, swallowed, but her voice was clear enough and steady enough (after the very first syllable) to pass.
"I don't know... I mean, there would be plenty of wards and watches there, but that sounds like a beacon of magick too. A big old target."
Grace
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Ned," she says, but the smile on her face takes a bit of punch out of the language. "Paradigms making a Paradox buffet? Paradox happens if you screw up or do something wildly out of bounds, but I've never heard of it happening just because people are living together. Besides, you were the ones just talking about cohabitation -- and you're thinking about doing it with him," she says, pointing at Dr. Sepúlveda.
"I can see the wisdom in not putting our eggs in one basket, but I can also see the wisdom of strength in numbers, and having a place with wards and robot dragon security guards... I mean, that sounds so amazingly wise to me," she says, grinning like she might have a touch of mad scientist to her herself.
She shrugs at Margot. "We're always a target. Anyway, it was just a thought. It'll be there, if you guys change your mind. Or even if you just need a place to go for a week or whatever."
Sepúlveda
[http://i.imgur.com/aMgG2jh.gif]
Ned
"....Nevermind how you even police privacy or respect or courtesy...most of us can barely interact without some sort of friction, tension or sarcasm...and that's just us saying hello..."
Ned climbs down the length of the Tree the Doc is stationed under, settling onto his ass with a grunt. His eyes trail towards Margot briefly at the sniff, perceptions catching the downturn of her mood and the silence that had preceded it but he doesn't comment or mention. Simply listens to Grace's commentary and returns to the conversation.
"Difference between a Cabal and a Commune....appreciate the offer though. We'll keep it in mind." Ned's wiping his hands down the length of his jeans, brow furrowing together. "Back up though. You just started the investigation? All you got was a hair and a partial fingerprint. How many did you say have died so far?"
Sepúlveda
[corr 1/time 2: hang on, doing stuff]
Dice: 3 d10 TN4 (3, 5, 7) ( success x 2 )
Sepúlveda
Sepúlveda sighs when Ned starts asking more questions. Rather than repeat himself, he rummages through his pocket to remove a device that looks like a GPS and a calculator had a rough night and starts to punch in... coordinates? Time signatures? It's hard to tell even if you're watching him closely.
From the machine comes the garbled noise associated with a tape rewinding. It's the moment they all just shared together, going backwards on the screen. Ned returns to the tree, Margot goes and comes back. He tilts it so Ned can see the screen when the activity starts to move forward again.
--gone missing in Colorado Springs, the image of Sepúlveda is saying.
He then proceeds to talk over himself, saying, "Damn, my hair looks good today."
--and I have a sneaking suspicion whoever did it is--
"Whoops."
Rewind.
--two out of five of them murdered, and I have a sneaking suspicion whoever did it is--
Yeah he could have just repeated himself with, like, words, but that takes all the fun out of it.
Ned
"....I can do that to...It's called an Iphone, grandpa..."
Sepúlveda
"I'll show you an iPhone, you little shit."
Margot
Margot didn't sit to join the rest of her cabal that they wouldn't outright call one but instead remained standing in the shade that the tree cast. She glanced down to watch Doc fiddle with some device that literally went back in time and pulled his voice from it to explain to Ned that two out of five missing apprentices were found murdered. Then they bickered about iPhones.
Margot just sighed and rested her forehead and eyes in one hand, supported the elbow in her other hand.
This moment right here could be the snapshot that their cabal sigil was built off of. Just take it in for a second.
"Grace," she said to interrupt the two after a second. "Will you keep me in the loop, please? I'd like to know how many times a minute I need to check over my shoulder and if that should change."
Grace
It's like watching a dysfunctional family dysfunction, isn't it? Grace's eyes go a little wider, like maybe she's just not ready to appropriately handle Ned and Andrés right now, but then Margot saves her.
Keep her in the loop, she says.
"Of course. Absolutely."
"Um. Also, I'll tell Mike you wanted to sell him an initiate, though I don't know exactly what you mean by that," she says to Sepúlveda.
Ned
"....Wait a minute how many initiates do you know?" Pause. "...Margot's not for sale..." Pause. "Fuck you."
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