IC Supernatural Law (Wicked Pacts)

Potted Plant

Power Flower
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Validated User
The Morgue / Past Events

Twilight, not yet dark. The young man walks along the street, stops to check his phone for time and hurries along. A hand reaches out of an alley and pulls him in. Effortlessly, like he weights nothing.

There is a man in the alley. Tall, powerfully built. Dressed all in black, including gloves and a mask that covers his face except for the eyes. He presses the young man against the wall - carefully, not slamming him - and closes his hand around the young man's neck in a perfect tracheal grip choke.

"I only want your wallet and phone," the man says coldly. His voice and body language hint at a much more mature person than the young man. "Play along and I don't have to hurt you." He pads the younger man down, finds the phone and takes it out. Looking at the phone he asks: "What code opens your phone?" He releases his grip slightly, allowing the young man to speak.

"6- I mean 6764," the frightened young man stammers.

The larger man tries the code, finds that it works, and closes his grip again. Tightly. Cutting off the younger man's breath and circulation. The young man lets out a strangled sound, tries in vain to break the other man's grip and then slumps. The large man rendered him unconscious. Without leaving a mark on him.

The man in black hoists the unconscious young man over his shoulder and looks upwards. The buildings are not residential. The walls are windowless, plastered smooth. There is a fire escape, but it is way too high to reach with the escape ladder not lowered, and there isn't even a convenient dumpster that could be used to reach it. The large man does not care. He launches towards the fire escape, actually runs up a wall for a couple of steps and then leaps, the younger man still on his shoulder - and leaps high enough to catch hold of the fire escape with his free hand, after which he simply pulls himself up.

A superhuman feat. A prepared Grunt Mage with a good base physique would be capable of something similar. An ordinary human wouldn't.

The man ascends to the roof, types a text message on the phone, but does not send it. He sets the unconscious man down, carefully approaches the street side edge and looks around for a moment. Until he sees a small group of people approaching. Then he sends the message, puts the phone back in the young man's pocket and carries him close to the edge, supporting him upright. Then, as the group on the street gets close to the building, he gives the younger man a sharp shove. Sending him flying straight over the edge.

The man in black does not wait for the young man to hit the ground. He turns immediately and dashes towards the alley. But he does not descend into the alley, he leaps straight over it and lands on the roof opposite. This feat is not quite superhuman. A trained olympic athlete might be able to pull it off.
 

Jive Professor

Trying to fly
Validated User
"Will do captain, I'll be in touch," Angelo replied. He grabbed a selection of items from his desk and thought about texting the others. He hesitated. Sanctis wasn't sure why, but he did. Another realization hit him and he grimaced. How am I going to explain... he wasn't sure.

He began typing up a text to send to miss Dales.

Hey, you're going to hate me, but I have to cancel Friday. Work assignment, not sure how long I'll be gone for, but it's out of country and kinda last minute. Dinner first thing when I'm back in the States?

He wanted to wait until she replied but he quickly shoved the phone back in his pocket and walked out into the waiting area. "All right Alderamin - I'm in. How do we do this, exactly?"
 

Potted Plant

Power Flower
RPGnet Member
Validated User
OCD Headquarters -> Mexico City

Angelo’s phone beebed. It was Dales. Looked like she was not terribly upset: “I know all about something suddenly coming up at work! :) Text me when you get back and we’ll try again.”

“This is going to be simple, but I can’t do it indoors,” Alderamin said after Angelo had looked at his message. “Is there a discreet outdoors spot close by?”

After a moment, Angelo and Alderamin were on the roof. “This will do,” the Could Serpent said and placed a hand on Angelo’s shoulder. “Just one warning. I know you mages have your own ways to travel long distances, but compared to those this can be a bit of a rollercoaster ride.”

There was a bright flash of light on the roof, and Angelo and Alderamin were gone.

How the effect felt was like getting shot upwards in a column of light. Fast, fast, fast, higher, higher, higher – and then suddenly coming down, down, down again, just as fast.

And then the two of them were standing in an enclosed yard. There was no physical feeling of actually having been moving, but it still took a moment to regain the sense of balance as the mind was adjusting to what felt like a rapid ascent followed by a fall that should have ended in a splat.

It was warm. The building surrounding the yard looked old, with peeling paint and plaster. There were two stories with a second floor balcony corridor circling the yard. In the center of the yard was what looked like a very old dead tree.

“The Diablera I know lives here,” Alderamin said. “I figured we’d save time by coming directly-“

The Cloud Serpent got interrupted by a slam as a second floor door was kicked open and out burst a woman with a shotgun. She was dressed in dark clothes, with army boots, jeans and a t-shirt. She was also wearing a chain vest over her shirt and studded bracers on her forearms. Her hair was shaved on the sides and dyed midnight blue. She seemed to be in her late twenties. Seeing the people in the yard, the woman pointed her shotgun upwards rather than at them, but then launched into a tirade in Spanish. Angelo did not speak Spanish, but his Italian had enough similarities that it was obvious that the woman was angry, and shouting some rather vulgar expletives.

“I said I know her, I didn’t say that she likes me,” Alderamin said to Angelo. “I will handle this.” Turning to the woman, the Cloud Serpent spoke in English. “Octavia, please let me explain. I came to ask a favor. We need your-“

The woman had stopped for a moment to listen but now she interrupted Alderamin with another angry string of even more vulgar expletives. The Cloud Serpent raised his voice and tried to get a word in. “I am not asking the favor for myself! This is Detective Angelo Sanctis, a Devil Hunter from Boston. We are- he is looking for a demon who killed a person in Mexico City a couple of weeks ago.” The Cloud Serpent took out his smartphone and brought up the image of the scene. “We could really use a Diablera who knows the terrain.”

This time the woman listened without interruption. “Well, that changes things,” she then said in English, put the shotgun down on a table and came down to the yard. She did not bother to use the stairs, she vaulted over the balcony railing and dropped down. Walking up to the men, she nodded to Angelo and said: “Octavia Fierro.” Then she turned to Alderamin, bluntly took the phone from his hand and looked at the picture. "I do not recognize this name,” Octavia said. “Or this place. And there is no location data. Where was this picture taken.”

“I am not sure,” Alderamin said. “A contact of mine pulled it from the police files. Regular police. And the file was incomplete. No information about the place, or the victim.”

“So they cut and buried the investigation,” Octavia said. “That does not bode well. But I have some friends who can get us the location – for a price.” She turned to Alderamin, held out her hand and said: “You will pay me two thousand dollars up front. A thousand for my services and another for running expenses, such as paying those friends I mentioned. If further expenses crop up or this takes more time than expected, you will pay me more.”

“You are going to charge me?” Alderamin said. “What about the code of Diableros assisting one another?”

“I am not charging him, I am charging you for you are no Diablero. And if you weren’t expecting that, you are stupid.”

Resignedly, Alderamin took out his wallet and gave Octavia an amount of cash. “Two thousand dollars, coming up.”

Octavia counted the money, pocketed it and then twiddled with Alderamin’s phone, sending the image to her own phone. Then she handed the phone back. “Here. And one more thing. You don’t get to tag along. You will wait here.”

“Understood,” Alderamin said and sat down on a bench in the yard. “I need to rest and regain my strength anyway, that travel trick can be taxing. Call me if you need help.”

“From you? Hmph.” Octavia turned to walk back upstairs and motioned for Angelo to follow. “Inside. We need to talk.”

On the way, Octavia recovered her shotgun. After walking indoors, she dropped it in a large gym bag that contained a good selection of other weapons, including a bow and arrows. Then she walked to a liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. Pouring herself a shot, Octavia knocked it back and then pointed at the bottle and other glass. “If you drink, help yourself. After meeting Alderamin, I need a drink. And that is not from the bottom shelf, that is quality stuff. That brand is not even made for export. You can only get it locally.”

Setting her glass down, Octavia said. “As for this killing you are looking into, our first move is to go meet some Brujas. Witches. They can divine the location using the image. But before that, what do I need to know about this?”

OOC: There really is only one possible theme music for this scene. :)
 
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Cale Knight

Eight Bits
Validated User
The Morgue

Mort finishes his rubbing of the phone, then picks up the sheet and watches the whole scene again. To Chaplin, it probably looks like a disconcerting mass of shifting charcoal scribbles, but to him it's clearer than the cable package which his family insists on overpaying for. Two hundred channels and nothing on.

"It was murder," he says. "Disguised as a mugging. Big fellow, mask and gloves. Mage. He took the phone, got the code, entered the message, threw him off the roof."

Mort folds the paper a few times and puts it back in his pocket, then gestures at the victim's neck.

"The coroner will find bruising consistent with being strangled, but may have to look very closely. He was careful and applied minimum pressure. That'll be enough to jumpstart your investigation. I'm pretty sure the kid doesn't know who killed him, but he might have more insight into why. I can try to call him here, if you like."
 

Potted Plant

Power Flower
RPGnet Member
Validated User
The Morgue

”A mage?” Chaplin says, perplexed. “Who would send a mage after an ordinary kid? To kill him? Both seem rather extreme just for rejecting someone’s ideology. Could he have overheard something? But that does not seem likely either. Even if that radical group was planning something they wanted to hide, it seems unlikely that the recruiter kids would have been told about it.”

She ponders for a moment. “I was right. He didn’t kill himself, but those kids didn’t hurt him either. In part I am relieved. In other part, damn. If this had pointed to the radicals I could have had them rounded up, but hunting mages is beyond my expertise. This will go to either your department or Arclight, and in either case I will get sidelined from the investigation. They will say that this is not my kind of case and I am too close to it. They will be right, of course, but…”

Chaplin sighs. “You are right. He might know something about why this happened. A mage being the killer does not fit the puzzle. I am missing pieces. Something must have happened that I don’t know about. That he didn’t tell his parents.” She looks at Mort. “You already did what I asked for. Now I know he didn’t kill himself, I just need to prove it. If that bruising is found to prove that he was assaulted, that will go a long way towards doing that. But catching the killer, that is another matter. And I am not sure if I am the right person for- Look, if this was a by the book murder investigation, would- Would he be called? By you, or by Arclight? If not, then let’s not do it. I’ll move forward with what I have. But if yes, then I might as well take the responsibility. Meaning that if it would be done and you call him, it will be by my official request. In that case, I am not going to tear up your forms. I am going to hand them back, filled, and we will do this by the book. I am not going to leave this killer a loophole to get away because something was not done properly. And if he is a mage, he might know the proper procedures about this kind of thing.”
 

Cale Knight

Eight Bits
Validated User
"You have two options," says Mort. "I can speak with an echo of his spirit. It won't be him - just residue left by the last few minutes of his life. I doubt we'd get much more than what we already know. Questioning of that sort is rarely reliable, but not always. More importantly, it isn't invasive. It's not actually him.

"Or I can try to call him here. If he's already moved onto whatever afterlife he's slated for, I can't call him. If he's around and doesn't want to come, I'll have to twist his arm. So to speak. But..."

Mort shrugs.

"The kid was murdered. Murder victims often hang around to see if their killers are brought to justice. It's possible that he'll come willingly. Calling on spirits to assist in investigations isn't at all unheard of - there just aren't many detectives who can do it. Necromancy tends not to be field magic."
 

Potted Plant

Power Flower
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The Morgue

"So this echo could tell us of his final moments. But you already saw that." Chaplin hesitates. "I haven't been involved with something like this before. And when it is someone you know... I have been putting off making that decision, but what you said - he would like to have justice. He should have it." She clears her throat and says: "Call him."
 

Jive Professor

Trying to fly
Validated User
Mexico City

Angelo did not want to be rude, even if he was not one to drink often. He took a drink and it was good, and clearly not to be wasted. He hesitated before taking another sip as he was better suited to shrugging off blows to the head than alcohol.

"I'm afraid I'm in the dark on more of this than I'd like. But the reality is that Alderamin and I have a conflicted past," he began, explaining the duel in short but clear detail. "Do you trust him? Should I?"
 

Potted Plant

Power Flower
RPGnet Member
Validated User
Mexico City

Octavia gave a slightly crooked smile and said: “Actually, I meant this killing you are here to look into. But I suppose we need to talk about Alderamin too. But then I am going to need another drink.” She poured and knocked back another shot and then explained: “Sure, I trust him. That is not the issue. He is a straightforward type, not conniving. If he has an issue with you, he comes at you directly. And he would never intend me harm. So if he asked me to help you, then he does mean to help you. I suppose you managed to impress him.”

Octavia looked directly at Angelo and added: “And good job dueling his new kid away from him. He would have messed up her life with the best of intentions.” She looked speculatively at her empty glass and the tequila bottle but then put the glass down. “Alderamin is my grandfather,” she said. “Of course, he had a different body back when he got my grandmother pregnant with my dad. He eventually got that body and my dad killed in a blaze of glory while going against this ancient evil that some artifact robbers had awakened while plundering temple ruins. Of course, Alderamin only lost his homunculus. My dad lost his life. And the worst part of that is that dad was probably okay with it and considered it a good way to go. Dying in glory with a warrior’s death and all that crap. When you are raised by a warrior spirit, you become like that.”

Putting her hands on her hips, Octavia continued. “And what I think is fuck with all that! I prefer a warrior’s life over a warrior’s death. Party hard, fight hard, and make sure you are the one who comes out of the fight alive. When I go against an ancient evil, I don’t charge directly at it like a Dungeons & Dragons Paladin. I stab it in the back like the party Rogue. Traps, tricks… Catch it in Hunter’s Trap and then shoot it at your leisure, execution-style. Snipe it from the roof. Never fight fairly if you can get an unfair advantage.” She chuckles. “That is not Alderamin’s way. That is my way. After my father died and Alderamin offered to finish my training, I told him – well, I said quite a few things to him. After that talk, he left Mexico City. I had heard that he entered into some pact with the US government, so I was not that surprised that he had someone from Boston with him when he showed up again. And I am pretty sure that a part of the reason for this visit is that it gave him an excuse to get in touch again without me immediately throwing him out on his ass. I know him, I may even trust him, but I do not like him. That is why he stays grounded and this mission is for Devil Hunters only.” Octavia looked thoughtful and added: “Although, if we end up in need of cannon fodder, I may reconsider getting him involved”

OOC: Theme music: Octavia
 
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Ilya

No creativity for titles
Validated User
Cruel Reign Investigation (OCD Headquarters) · Jin-hee Hayes
HP: 24/24 · MP: 50/50 · Scene pts: 0/3
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The forms landed with more force on Ms. Mercado’s desk than Jin-hee had intended, rebounding and nearly tumbling over the edge.

“Uh, hi, sorry,” the warlock said, struggling to gather the papers as the backpack and drawing carrying tube slung over her shoulders threatened to slide into different directions. “Can you help me to submit these requests? It’s my first time getting one of these.” She rotated the top sheet so the woman could read it: Form 113-F, requisitioning a sub-type of search warrant little known outside divisions like OCD. Jin had wasted nearly half an hour searching for unhelpfully labelled document, until it finally dawned on her it wouldn’t be under subpoenas since the request wasn’t actually to talk to spirits, but to “conduct the search of a private property with the intent of obtaining additional testimony and evidence through auxiliary methods” of their burial grounds. Then she spent the rest of the hour filling it, one for each potential interviewee, in triplicate.

“Do you think I’ll be able to get a warrant still today? There are several witnesses we could interview, but I want to disturb as few spirits as possible, so I chose the one with most connections to incidents and other witnesses. Should I submit requests for conducting other interviews already, just in case she’s not able to help?” Jin flipped the paper, revealing the target of her request was Ethel Sutton’s grave.
 
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