Roleplaying
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Seminars
| When: | 23 March 2005 |
| Who: | Butch, Galen, Kacela, Nicodemus |
| What: | Kacela shows Butch and Galen that serve the same word a local tether that would be friendly to their comings and goings, and then gets hauled off for medical attention by Lyman as reciprocation for her earlier actions that day. |
House That Pain Built
With cornflower blue paint peeling from neglected wood siding, this house is showing its age, likely constructed as far back as the 1930's. Shadowy figures, the air of desperation clinging to them, linger about, using it as a place to crash for the night, either unaware or uncaring of the occasional corpse of others who overdose on heroin being carted away. Tough lives, and wretched memories, bring new customers in to the faintly moldy walls, seeking solace in the Hookah of Pain. Despite its offputting name, rumor on the street is that this large, brass, six-tubed pipe has a considerably higher than average proficiency in permanently chasing away those agonizing regrets and fear-wracked memories.
Butch walks up the old rickity steps of this seemingly old and rickity house. 'Why in the hell would I be meeting her at this dump? Is this a tether?' He shrugs to himself and walks up trying the door, and knocking very heavily before just barging in. If it is a tether ...well...Butch doesn't need ANOTHER seneshal pissed at him.
Galen the walls of the house reverberate with the approach of Galen's Harley. The noise of the massive bike reaches a high crescendo then dies abruptly. A few moments later, Galen walks into the run-down building, the floorboards creak under his considerable mass. He is responding to the cryptic voice-mail left him by Kacela to come here. He was aware of this place, some of his biker-buddies come here from time to time, a couple never came back. He eyes the place suspiciously as he walks through the doorway and begins searching for Kacela. After a few moments he sees her in one of the rooms. "Hello, Kacela." he says simply. He notices Butch standing nearby and gives him a curt nod.
The house is indeed filled with a lot of people. However, most of them are strung out, or in the middle of a high. Most of the squatters peer quizically up at Galen, while others shiver and sulk away from them. Kacela herself is speaking to a wiry, sunken-eyed, younger version of Robert Smith. The man gesticulates, and points towards the emergence of Butch and Galen, and Kacela turns. "My, punctual, both of you. We should be glad you two didn't crack skulls on the way in." She dips her head, and paces forward, holding her hands in such a way to keep herself from touching any of the walls. "As you can imagine... the weaknesses of humans can be exploited to discourage Heaven's side of the conflict." She purses lips. By extension, Fleurity's domain can used, in a way, by The War."
Butch looks around casually scaning the petty humans wallowing in their drug induced states. "Well...I guess thats all well and good...but, uh we are HERE for a reason right? I mean is this just a dive to hide out in... or is it more than that?"
Galen squats down low to stare into the oblivious face of one of the more far-gone humans. "Pretty sad lot, these guys." He straightens up and looks back at Kacela and the man she is talking to. "Yeah, I've never met either of these guys before." He says, jerking his thumb slightly in Butch's direction and looking at the skinny man.
Kacela mmphs to herself. "Yeah, it's not much of a war against them. And this is in fact, under the crumbling paint, a tether. You may take celestial form here without creating disturbance. Granted, you wind up on the Black Lotus in Shal-Mari, but don't let that tempt you," she hisses, "I'm sure Baal's ranking troops wouldn't appreciate any side trips while in that section of Hell. You show up there, you get your aft right back to Gehenna. Business only. Particularly after how much all of us..." She fixes the men with a gaze, "Went through to even get on the corporeal plane in the first place!"
Butch rolls his eyes like a child whos being lectured. "Yeah, yeah...I didn't fall off the truck yesterday ya know. I can take care of myself. Now, I assume this guy," Butch points rather lazily at Galen. "is with you? Or a mutual 'friend'? Cause seriosly getting impatient, boss wants organization and the boss wants results!"
After seeing him through surgery this morning, Kacela informed her fellow Baalite that she would be introducing some comrades to the East Austin tether. She assumed, from the injuries he suffered these past days, he would not be in attendance. Yet, Nicholas Lyman appears, emerging onto the decaying lot from the back of his Lincoln Navigator. One might get the impression he was dressed for an important dinner meeting, his bloody suit and overcoat both replaced. All that is missing is a bottle of wine hung under his arm. With a wide smile, Lyman trots up the stairs and inside. "Hello, everybody," he greets warmly, on arm, visible were his overcoat hangs improperly, still stuck in a sling.
Kacela shrugs helplessly at Butch's irritated commentary. "You know, I don't seem to recall being the one absent from the meeting a while ago. Even the Vapulans tore themelves away from their tinkering to show up." She cants her head to the side, and then says, "As far as organization goes, I am your organization." At that point, the woman catches sight of Nicodemus, and states, "-We- are your organization." She pops a heavy cast iron latch on one creaky door, and then gestures towards the room. "And there it is," she murmurs, pointing them towards it. "The War is being fought on many fronts. As you can imagine, we prefer a multi-pronged approach. Some subtle..." At this point, she acknowledges the cleaned up Lyman with a demure waggle of fingers, emphasizing the 'subtle' part of it, "And then the not so subtle," she gestures towards the two bruisers.
Butch nods very slowly; taking in Kacela's words. "Well...sorry I missed your little get together. I just love those vapulan toys, get any party favors for me?" He chuckles as he walks into the room Kace has opened up for him. "Anyway, you know where I sit when it comes to the war down here. Now, is there an update, or anything big in the works I need to know about?"
Galen watches the tension between Kacela and Butch. He lumbers over to the door and takes a peek at the Infernal contraption, grinning at its subtle evil. He turns back into the main room.
As if he were among other Austin fat cats, Lyman bows slightly to the two men and lastly to Kacela, those not brought to the ground by their addictions. "Yes, the first stone has been cast," he begins, following immediately after his partner in crime. His voice is so rich with refinement it may not coax and assure as it may intend. In fact, it sways into a dismissive, even commanding tone, "As you may or not know, Tyrr attacked Ms. Howard and myself days ago. He is a powerful adversary, but if we can remove his support here in Austin we may yet have...vengeance." Getting to Butch's concerns without so much as a glance in the man's direction, he goes on, "Originally, when we believed the angels to be behind Nathiel's death, we were planning two travel two paths simultaneously. One of subterfuge, of forging close relationships with known angels and gaining information...while other operatives actively seek out and annihilate them. The latter part of that strategy will now be focused on Tyrr's closest." Finally, a look shoots in Butch's direction, it is deceptively curious, but there is a poisonous barb behind it, "Who are you? I don't believe we've met."
Kacela appears ready to launch into a diatribe about the state of demonic affairs, but Nicodemus has the matter well in hand. Kacela dips her head, and gives her best Vanna White display of hands and arms towards Nicodemus, even if her right arm fails to arc as gracefully as it should, suggesting some remaining injury. "Well, there you have it, the major point of interest for us. Those of you have dealt with Malakim know their dangers. They're like big game -- the grizzlies, the big cats of the savannah -- deadly if you meet them in conflict unprepared, but for those who succeed in felling one? Great pride, yes..." There's a tint of admiration in her voice as she paces, her obligation to the others fulfilled in her mind now that they're here and have viewed the room.
Butch smirks as Lyman mentions annialation. But his crooked smile quickly vanishes and he snorts in response. "Me? Call me Butch. I'm a fairly recent transfer and I am for the moment in you and the ladys service. But, I'll tell you straight out. I don't care for pussyfooting around, I like to get things done, quick and effectivly. I'm... 'working' down at the Firehouse across the street from the cemetary if you need to get a hold of me. Oh, heres my cell too." He slides what looks like a well used pice of white cardboard rather than a buisness card out of his pocket with the name 'Butch Valentine' and a phone number typed on it.
Galen grins at the 'Tyrr's closests' part of Nicodemus' speech. "Ya know, for some reason, I don't like that Bronwyn b****. At Fado's before I knew what a divine hangout it was, she was like lording it over the doorway, like she owned every damn thing. No. I won't have any troubled nights having played some games with Tyrr's little clutch of friends." He realizes he just spoke a lot all at once, and stops. He shoves a stoned vegitable aside and sits on a moldy couch. "But that's my personal desires are unimportant. What is your plan, boss?" He's looking at Nicodemus.
No, Lyman is not ignorant of the big lug's identity. Though they've never met face to face, a little bird has kept him well informed. "So you are Butch," Lyman says through a smile, seeming to take some pleasure in their meeting, though the name hisses out almost...condescendingly. For a moment, he fantasizes about raising the issue of being called a "chump" behind his back. But, this is not the time or place. No, the warfront in Austin is a higher stake. Galen's use of the term, "Boss", also helps to dissuade Nicodemus. Visibly brightening, he turns to Galen and nods approvingly, "Yes, the female detective, that is one. But, I suspect from her role here in Austin and her speedy arrival to Fado's, that she may have some training in combat." Two cassette tapes emerge from Lyman's coat pocket. Flashing a dangerous smirk, he divides them among the brutes, "It is security footage from Lux the night Yves appeared with him are three angels. I suspect all servitors of his. I have provided their faces, Kacela their first names. Remy, Pan, and Sarah."
Lyman adds, "We will begin with small prey and then when our preferred targets are shaken by grief or by anger, we will take them...one by one."
Butch smiles broadly and laughs deeply. "Naw, thats great man! I was just giving you some grief. Its all good." He give Lyman a fairly solid punch in his arm in the sling for fun. His smile widening as he does it. "Any particular method of execution in mind?"
Galen looks at the casette. "Do we know where these guys live? Might be easiest to whack them in their homes, when they're alone." Galen's eyes widen at Butch's 'playful' punch. "I think we need to concentrate out collective hostility on these damned angels, at least until they're in their proper place. I think Baal probably sent so many of us here because The War here was going so crapily, due to too many infernals not working together."
Galen says, "Speaking of our boss, we might should speak to him soon. As a group."
Kacela fixes her own glower upon Butch, and practically hisses to herself. As she sees him take a swing, jovial or not, she bristles, and steps forward. "I think you need to step off," she growls out, staring daggers at the larger man. "There are better places, New York, DC, but we were probably sent here because this is where most of the Michaelites /are/." She furrows her brow, and then withdraws a step, looking rather drained.
Butch shys away from Kace and gets the point. "Yeah, ok." He sulks almost as he walks toward the door. "Ok, I'll tone it down.....a little. So, looks like you and I will be getting some kicks in there bud. Who are you again?" He gestures to the other brute who was handed a casset tape.
Galen says simply "Galen."
At the contact on his newly regenerated shoulder, Lyman grunts, smiling through the obvious discomfort. He takes pride enough in Butch's enthusiasm...and of course, the concerned response from Galen and Kacela, that he does not allow a grimace, or shout at the big lug's thoughtlessness. "None in particular," Lyman beams, before talk of the enemy takes his tone down to dull instruction, "Though, I would suggest making it quick. The angels have formed a closely woven unit here in Austin. They travel in packs, it seems." Snapping his fingers and point to Galen, he quickly adds, "Oh yes. The unfortunate business of Nathaniel's death. After the appearance of Thor at the museum the other night, I've bought into Inarin's theory that remnant ethereals were behind it. Perhaps not Thor. But Inarin has suggested that separating him and his hammer may be in our best interest. How we do that, however, is another story."
Butch smiles at the brutish looking fellow nearly decked out in SWAT gear. "Allrighty, swing by the Firehouse so we can organize a good jump on em! I'll catch you all later!" Butch swing around and waltzs out the door having FINALLY met up with the servants of Baal here in Austin.
Kacela utters some malediction to herself as Galen and Butch hit it off, "It's like pack animals..." However, she listens to Lyman's words, and nods, finding a pragmatic truth to them. The smells of the house, stale marijuana and opium smoke combined with old body fluids, starts to offend, and she paces easily towards the door at a slow enough pace that may invite the others to follow.
Galen grunts at the mention of Inarin. "Ya say Inarin's Baalite also? I think he seems to keep his own way a bit much." He looks between Kacela and Nicodemas. "We need to get him where we can keep him nearby, also, more's the merrier." His eyes brighten. "Lets also not forget our Vapulan friends, they could be *very* useful in some of these...er...actions." He rises from the couch and follows Kacela, not being one to miss such a obvious cue, well often anyways.
Walking with Galen to the door, Lyman acknowledges each suggestion with a nod, commending the other man with a thin smile. Perhaps, the goon isn't completely lacking in brain matter. Still, Lyman does not legitimize them with words. Instead, he narrows his gaze suspiciously at Kacela. "My dear, have you not seen a doctor?" he asks flatly, an almost parental irritation in that question.
Kacela practically skids to a halt, shoulders back and squared. She narrows eyes dangerously at the inquiry, and merely inclines her head slightly to indicate that she is listening. She doesn't turn back towards Lyman. "This is my third assignment on earth, I've suffered much worse, in a time with much poorer healing technology. Your own tending was priortized by their severity and your relative ranking within the scheme of things," she states flatly, her Gehennan upbringing brilliantly illuminated with her precise, clipped speech.
Galen looks at the videocasette. "So, when do we begin this 'purge,' boss?"
Galen takes his carefully programmed cellphone out and places a call.
Galen says "Where do we want him to come if he can?"
"I might be able persuade our friend at Brackenridge," Lyman begins playfully, "Though, I'll tell you now, I'll be employing different tactics than you did this morning." But again, his tone becomes dire, "Kacela, I do not question your hardiness as a warrior. But, your loyalty to a knight of the Black Order, perhaps. Please, into the car, my driver can find us a clinic." A look slides to Galen, "A purge of Austin. I like that. Begin at once. But as I said, be cautious. Tyrr will be very protective of his followers...and expect retalliation after your first mark is dispatched."
Galen says "Ok, if you guys are sure." He puts the cellphone away.
Kacela finally turns to regard the pair as if they were daft. "My thoughts were focused on self-sufficiency, not insubordination," she corrects. Otherwise, no further resistance is offered on her part, although several wilting looks are sent towards Nicodemus's muscles and driving staff. Once properly corralled, she crosses her legs, resting one elbow on the windowsill of the vehicle. She positively sulks.
Galen nods. "So you just want the body taken out, then?" he pauses "I don't think either Bruce or I will be much good for the after that part."
Noting Kacela's attitude toward medical attention, Lyman's voice relents to a soothing whisper, though he himeself remains firm on the point, "My dear, you have to realize the ineffeciency...especially now. We need you healthy most of all."
Again, a look to Galen, "If you can assure me with a soul kill, then very well. But terminating the vessel may be all we need."
The tactical side of Kacela's mind still functions quite well, even if the more prideful areas of her psyche are wallowing in dismay at the ignomy of her treatment. Blinking once, she rolls down the window, and insists upon getting the last word with Galen. "Don't kill the vessel! He'd return with an entire squad of them, and then it'll be no holds barred!" No further comment is directed towards Nicholas.
Galen blinks. "Not to be dense, boss, but that's the problem. I don't think either of us will be much good for a soul kill...however, if yourself and Kacela were there..."
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