Ned, Be Careful.

Ned
The knock comes on whichever of however many security doors Grace has between her and the outside world and that Ned has managed to gain access to before having to Knock in the first place.

Opening the door, he is brow perked and lip pursed, hair gel'd back and flat along his scalp (contained) while the semblance of his resonance, a controlled suffocation, like a baptism or a bit of bdsm with a trusted partner, washed in ahead of him, even as the effect he'd no doubt come here within, steadily begins to diminish and dissolve.

What was once a pair of slacks and black sweater, all as non-descript as it gets, becomes a more noticeably impressive black hoodie, cut up pair of converse and dark gray jeans.

"Did what I could to mask the approach. Hope that satisfies our mutual paranoia." A pause in the doorway the brow remains perked. "What's up?"

Grace
She's been doing this a lot lately -- inviting people to this place. It's one spot she doesn't mind if the Technocrats discover. It is empty except for a past life. A Sleeper version of Grace once lived here, and she kept it around out of a desire to have a place to store her clothes. This is the backup. It doesn't seem, to Ned, that anyone actually lives here. It isn't steeped in the sharpness of a bird's wing. There is dust.

And, there is Grace, sitting on a box at a tiny table with her laptop.

"You're actually the first one to do that, and it's nice. You probably should."

She turns to him, gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile, and gestures over to the 'kitchen' counter where there is a plate of store-bought cupcakes. "If you want one... you know. Protect me from having to eat them all."

Ned
"No thanks. Trying to cut back."

Smile met with a smirk, his hands vanishing into his pockets when she invites him inside. He nudges the door shut behind him and follows her into the 'kitchen' gaze travelling the length of the place and easily dismissing it as a 'hideout' rather than a home. His hands remain in his pockets and he moves to pull his hood up (all the better to keep DNA samples/fingerprints from being left anywhere).'

"I checked out your 'Wiley' at an Auction the other week. His girlfriend is actually his Fiance and the pair of them are pretty tight knit. No secrets, so they're both in on it."

Grace
She shrugs at his dismissal of cupcakes, not exactly sad that there'll be more for her. But then he follows that up with more business. He went out to talk to Wiley. Okay. Well. That's news.

"I found out something that suggests that we need to be... well. More careful. At least one of the murder victims was a secret Technocrat. They've opened up their own investigation."

"But, please tell me what you found out, if anything?"

Ned
"Shit."

Something in Ned's features falls away, pushing him internal for a moment. A hand pulls out of his pocket against better instincts and grinds fingers into his brow for a second.

"I was hoping it was them doing the killings."

It takes a moment for the information to sink in before Ned returns to the conversation  hand slipping back into his pocket, a breath puffing free of his cheeks.

"I don't have much more than that other than confirmation of everything you told me about him. Description, Fiance. They do really dangerous hunts for 'sport' and as membership events go. One of Wiley's friends own's land up near Pike Peak where he said they can go to 'practice' the hunts...which was the location of one of the murdered Victims, St Croix? Who was a member of the Order as you know."

A pause to parse through any further information.

"I spoke to the Doc so I assume you've got the low down on what Margot and I sorted out with this Keeper thing. We're not going near that with a Ten foot clown pole and I think everyone else needs to steer clear of it too. Evelyn's  a pretty heavy suspicion at the moment so if someone wants to jump on talking to her, interrogating her, figuring out who the hell she actually is, that'd be pretty great..." Another pause. A bit of sarcasm there, though it doesn't seem aimed at Grace (because she knows the tone of his sarcasm by now when it's aimed directly at her).

"That's about all right now. I'll know more before the weekend is out, hopefully....but...."

Ned stares at Grace, sucking in a deep breath.

"I need to know how likely it is that it's a Euthanatos doing these killings." She mentioned Mike. She's been dating one. A high ranking one if rumours suggest. Ned's eyes are firm here, lips thin and pressed.

Grace
There's information. Stuff that Grace just soaks in, like the reference to Pike's Peak and practicing. Practicing on LaCroix? Ned wants to take everything directly to Evelyn, and that's a fine idea, except that they have no real proof yet, and it would just clue her in on the next people she needs to kill if she is the one.

And Grace would respond to all that, if not for Ned's last statement. The thing he needs to know.

"A normal, sane Euthanatos? Not likely, except for the Technocrat. I don't know about you, but if I found somebody spying on us for the enemy and endangering us all, it would piss me off. If Laura Fairbanks was hiding her status as a Technocratic Agent, there's no telling what else she was hiding. A member of the Euthanatos would be able to find out and dispense justice. But they also would, I don't know, tell people.

"They don't go after innocents, Ned. Not unless the only thing left in that life is suffering, they don't."

Ned
(Life 1/Entropy 1: Polygraphic Likelihood Test. Diff. 4 - 1 for Pain)

Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (9, 10) ( success x 2 )

Grace
[As far as Grace is aware, she is not even stretching the truth. Now, normal and sane are relative terms. It stands to reason that an insane Euthanatos is scary shit, but so are most insane Mages.]

Ned
"Far as I can tell, the Euthies have an agenda that doesn't sit well with a lot of the Trads. That agenda could well pose problems and more than likely, has posed problems in the past. Killing folks  is part of the mission. I can't imagine it would be terribly difficult to get carried away with that. Especially given Jhor and all that..."

Ned's nostrils flare. His hand in his pocket is bunched, fist forming a tight knot that the hoodie's excess falls over for the most part. The air still lingers with that controlled asphyxiation he brought in with him.

"...I've recently learned more about them and they are a lot more...exacting in who they hunt and why. In a clear cut world and case history, sure they're top notch and respectably doing the right thing. This situation though...a lot of variables involved. Maybe it's a rogue agent, or worse, a fallenone-" A vague curl to his lip that vanishes with a cleared throat "-or maybe they found something out about this Order we don't know yet and are playing 'damage control'."

The fist relaxes steadily, shoulders shrugging inside the voluminous hoodie.

"So far though....I'd like to know some other suspects you think might operate with a 2 to the chest, 1 to the head sort of mentality when it comes to killing people. Who are knowledgeable enough about crime scene cleaning to know what to wipe away and how to do so with impossible clarity. Can actively take on mages and deal with them pretty comfortably and who...by your account...aren't Technocrats."

A pause. No, he's done for the moment.

Grace
"Like I said, your average, normal, sane 'Euthie' has a rather strict code of ethics that they adhere to like it's a lifeline. And it is, considering. I'm not going to sit here and tell you it's never happened, that no Chakravanti has ever gone on a killing spree for fun or quintessence, but... I couldn't say that about any Tradition. And everybody knows how to use guns, man. Hell, it was a Chorister who taught me how to shoot, for fuck's sake.

"In my experience, they're less likely to be the cause of mass panic and murder than others. I know that's just anecdotal. I don't have a scientific data set revolving around Tradition serial killers, but you know..."

She sighs, looks at the door behind him. Remembers herself pleading with Whitney not to open it -- not to endanger herself...

"A Euthanatos once stood behind that door with the intent to kill me. It was probably the most compassionate and caring thing anyone's ever done for me."

Ned
"If it was just about the guns, I wouldn't be concerned. All the facts combined do a good job of eliminating a lot of potentials though. Capability to do all of this as well as keep the collective Mage community in Denver in the dark as to their identity alongside Kill three Mages without anyone, the Techies included, knowing until after the fact? That is not a small thing to accomplish, you have to admit that at least. Someone capable, skilled and secretive enough to make those acts happen that knows what they are doing and how to accomplish it all directly and effectively."

A pause. Hand held up.

"...But you're right. There's no guarantee whatsoever nor evidence. I'd like to be wrong but that level of capability is...well, you said it already." Scary Shit. "Regardless of that particular fact, our Cabal's going to do some investigating around the Order. Try to dig up some of the more esoteric nonsense these people seem to believe in. Part of me thinks there's something nephandic going on in their ranks but I won't know until we get a closer look. I do need to know more about what we'd be looking for though. Iconography or symbols or even phrasing and language. If you've got anything around that, feel free to leave it in the mail box."

Ned's wrapping things up. The air is clear and free once more and his demeanor seems a touch antsy. Ready to get moving again.

"Anything else?"

Grace
"It suggests a powerful Mage, to me. Not Euthanatos. Perhaps your Secret Keeper spirit cleaned up the crime scenes? I don't know. I also wouldn't know the first thing about Nephandic iconography. Empty voids in the depths of space? Cthulhu? Those ridiculous upside-down crosses that Goths like to wear? No. I take that back. That's an insult to Goths."

She rubs at her eyes. "And probably Cthulhu... I will say, though, that their Workings sometimes have a... feeling about them. They can use Magick like normal folks, but they can also use this kind of... inverted Magick. Qlippothic. You'd know it if you looked at it. Not fun. I can show you an example sometime. It might still have that... disgusting quality."

"But, you should probably know what else I found before you leave. Elizabeth Palor's father? Grandfather? Is a high-ranking member of the Falcon-people. His company is where I found that Technocrat talking about his dead partner and investigations into the murder. His name was Phillip Wright. He might be off trying the same thing as you."

Ned
"Mmmmm, well that puts Wiley's membership into perspective, given they're getting hitched. Daddy needs a successor."

Ned's eyes dart a little at the information, but he doesn't offer more than that. He pulls back from the kitchen with a glance around, already rolling his shoulders into an easier gait.

"I'll be in touch again once we've solidified something more concrete. I trust you'll share things out with the rest of the collective. Better suited than me...or the Doc I think-" A bit of a laugh there, utterly unbidden "-keep me posted on what else you might find though."

He's heading for the door, thoughtful if grim.