logs from cleveland 2

<Antioch|GM> ...
<-> soulpelt| is now known as soulpelt|Wink
<-> Bel is now known as Bel|Dags
<Antioch|GM> Dags is woken from his slumber by an arrhythmic, staccato rapping on his office door in his bar. Blearily investigating the nearest timekeeping device at hand, he finds it's before noon.
<Antioch|GM> Possibly the gravest crime that's been conspired or committed in this establishment. ||
<Bel|Dags> I pull my head off my desk and halfheartedly run a hand through my mussed hair. There'd better be a damn good reason or else... there better be a damn good reason.
<Bel|Dags> I cough slightly to clear my throat, then call out. "Whoszat?"
<Bel|Dags> Not the most together at the mo'. Fuck it. I look around, hoping for some sort of container with water and not whiskey, or even life-giving ibuprofen on the disaster area that is the working PI's desk space. ||
<Antioch|GM> "It's Maia," his secretary replies, in a voice that's enthusiastic enough to scrape nails down the chalkboard of his nocturnal soul. "Haddon's here to see you."
<Antioch|GM> His desk has three things on it -- scattered documents, empty liquor bottles, and no reprieve from the waking hellscape that is this Sunday morning.
<Antioch|GM> Morning. Gah. The worst cuss word of them all. ||
<Bel|Dags> "Mph. Aight, I'mma comin'." When I find the sonuvabitch who up an' died and made Haddon wake me up...
<Bel|Dags> Carefully, I lever myself out of the rolling chair and stand upright, making sure all the buttons and zippers and doodads are fastened.
<Bel|Dags> Feeling my way gingerly to the door, I open it, squinting into the deathly noonday sun. ||
<Antioch|GM> Even with the slightly recessed bar area and the smoky, grime-slicked windows, it's still brighter in the Spade than he wants it to be.
<Antioch|GM> "Dags," Haddon says, "it's been a while. Sorry to wake you with bad news." ||
<Bel|Dags> "'S never good news, s' don't mention it." I wipe my face slowly, trying to bring myself back to the land of the living. "What's the deal?"||
<Antioch|GM> "Khandhas was killed yesterday night. Caught up in a Tinker attacking the hospital." ||
<Bel|Dags> "Mm."
<Bel|Dags> I push past Haddon and step behind the bar, tossing two aspirin in a glass before smothering them in orange juice. The 'clink clink' of the tablets against the glass pricks behind my eyes like the unskilled probings of a back-alley optometrist.
<Bel|Dags> "Mind unpacking that a bit? Lot you just said there."
<Bel|Dags> I toss back the chalky concoction, praying for relief. ||
<Antioch|GM> "Tinker goes by Sigma, or Antithesis. Antithesis is in your files, but we thought she died in a fight with Caitiff a year or so ago. More likely she used the fight as a screen to fake her death, and has been colluding with him for the past while."
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<Antioch|GM> "She attacked the hospital, gunning for TGK, either to kill or kidnap. Other capes were there, Khandhas and one of your tenants, Absynthesis, included."
<Bel|Dags> "How's she? Good money, that one." ||
<Antioch|GM> "Also dead," Haddon says.
<Bel|Dags> "Shit."
<Bel|Dags> ||
<Antioch|GM> "The two of them bought enough time for TGK to kill Antithesis. Kills a lot of answers to a lot of questions as collateral. He's putting together a memorial service tonight." ||
<Bel|Dags> ((Having a bit of trouble parsing that second sentence))
<Antioch|GM> ((I'll rewrite.))
<Antioch|GM> "The two of them bought enough time for TGK to kill Antithesis. She died, a lot of answers to questions that need asking died with her. TGK's putting together a memorial service tonight." ||
<Bel|Dags> I don't look behind me, at the wall of liquors. Time enough for that later.
<Bel|Dags> When Haddon's not here.
<Bel|Dags> Instead, I hold up my glass of juice and drain that. "Helluva shame. I'll be there."
<Bel|Dags> I fumble for more juice to hide my face as I ask, "How'd he go out, if y'know? I know he was on some sort of crusade, doin' good or sommat." ||
<Antioch|GM> "Killed Antithesis, saved some kid's life," Haddon says. "There are worse ways to go." ||
<Bel|Dags> "Sure are." I grab a glass, motioning towards Haddon questioningly.
<Bel|Dags> "How's Kusa doing?" ||
<Antioch|GM> "Same as he was," Haddon says. "They're moving him to the PRT medical wing. Probably already have."
<Antioch|GM> "Absynthesis was trying to fix him. Didn't get far enough except to cook up something that copied the same thing Invictus hit him with. Used it on Sigma." ||
<Bel|Dags> "Bit pretentious of her. Figured he'd get royalties on that sort've thing."
<Bel|Dags> It's hard to tell if the deaths aren't sinking in, or if they already have and I'm a bit of an asshole.
<Bel|Dags> Judging from the prevailing opinion, probably the later. ||
<Antioch|GM> "It's at six tonight. Monroe Cemetery. Not far," Haddon says. ||
<Bel|Dags> "Right." I pause for a second, doing the necessary mental math with all the speed of a hungover high school dropout. "I'll host the wake, if y' don't mind passing word 'round?"
<Bel|Dags> "Standard neutral ground rules, obviously." Though if anybody tried to cause trouble at a cape's wake, they wouldn't last much longer than a sub sandwich left alone downtown. ||
<Antioch|GM> "Will do," Haddon replies. "Need anything, for the preparation?" ||
<Bel|Dags> "Food, for sure, pretty sure my kitchen won't be able to handle non-bar food, and this demands at least pizza." It deserves steak, but that goes unsaid.
<Bel|Dags> "And see if you can get Mendez on board, yeah? Be nice to have some heroes around." Khandhas would've liked that. ||
<Antioch|GM> "Food I can handle, the PRT, maybe not. They've got a lot on their plate at the moment, hospital attack notwithstanding." ||
<Bel|Dags> "Mm." I look around, taking in the grimy bartop, beat-up jukebox, rough stools and knickknack-covered walls. The privacy glass-filled windows, letting in the spiteful sun.
<Bel|Dags> "I can get that. How're you holding up?" ||
<Antioch|GM> "Poorly. I'm playing three or four sides with the Tinkers gunning for Longinus's base, trying to pit them against each other. Protectorate Critical wants it done a different way. Back one group to eliminate the rest." ||
<Bel|Dags> "But then they're left with a strong, coordinated core to fight. Who's running that show, a moron?"
<Antioch|GM> "It's easier to pull off," Haddon replies, "and they seem to think they have the muscle to put them down once the show is over." ||
<Bel|Dags> "Enough muscle to drop a team of tinkers with time to prepare? Flip side, they could be gunning to recruit the winning team. Bit of a crapshoot, but definitely easier than a slugfest." ||
<Bel|Dags> -||
<Bel|Dags> "The complex gambit devolves into their play if you leave it alone. Y'know which group they like? See if you can't poison that relationship, see how it changes the dynamic. Dollars to donuts it turns into a brawl in the lake. ||
<Bel|Dags> *" ||
<-> Druza is now known as Druza|practice
<Antioch|GM> "Maybe. I can't imagine any of the major factions would bite. The Synod's too paranoid, Caitiff is Caitiff. Russian Roulette might, if the price was right, but I wouldn't put money on it."
<Antioch|GM> "A brawl in the lake sounds like the first step towards us getting fast-tracked towards an HOSV label. Bad for business, that." ||
<Bel|Dags> "So's a no-holds-barred rumble between the PC and the toughest of the bunch, but I see your point."
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<-> FossilLord is now known as FossilWork
<Bel|Dags> "Anything else going down? Mostly quiet on my end, just working PRT relations and keeping an ear to the underground." Speaking of, I should give Brigid a call. She worked with the People, or at least TGK, she might know Khandhas.
<Bel|Dags> Or at least want free booze. ||
<Antioch|GM> "The in-town gangs are keeping their heads down. By and large, it's the Tinkers that are the issue." ||
<Bel|Dags> "Fair enough, but I want to be on top of it once the in-towners start being the issue again. That's my job.
<Bel|Dags> "Speaking of my job, hear about the new protection deal I worked out with Capo The Second? Thirty grand over a week, then a couple grand a week for the same stuff the PRT gets. You're welcome." ||
<Antioch|GM> "How'd you manage that?" Haddon asks, raising an eyebrow. ||
<Bel|Dags> I lean on an elbow, going for an air of nonchalance. "Insulted him and his predecessor, attempted to extort him, and all but told him to kill me. Turns out he's a standup guy. Gonna miss him when Pizzi rotates back in in a few months."
<Bel|Dags> Nonchalance nothing, that was a win. ||
<Antioch|GM> "Doesn't sound like that win was planned," he remarks. ||
<Bel|Dags> "I had a blackmail scheme set up against Pizzi in case our deal needed reworking, gambled it'd work here too. I was right, yeah?" ||
<-> Saff is now known as Saff|GM
<Antioch|GM> "Well done you, then. I wouldn't have expected it from him. According to what I know, he's fertilized a lot of ditches in his time." ||
<-> Yumgar is now known as Yum|Hartmann
<Bel|Dags> "That sounds about right. We're 'People Of Interest', so I suppose he thinks we deserve special treatment. Also, he didn't like Pizzi. Suggested the term 'Pizza Face'." ||
<Antioch|GM> "They've been on the same team for a decade, if not more," he says. "It sounds like an interesting dynamic."
<Antioch|GM> "Well," he says. "Don't let me keep you. I've got things to take care of before tonight. I'll see you then." ||
<-> ColdGold is now known as ColdGold|GM
<Bel|Dags> "Roger that," I say, turning to toss the glass into the sink. "Don't be a stranger." ||
<Antioch|GM> |||
<Antioch|GM> ...
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<Antioch|GM> The headache has diminished slightly. Enough to be functional. Maia sticks around, doing busywork with a detached disinterest, apparently unshaken by Khandhas's death. The bar is prepped for the inevitable wake, and it's in reasonable shape, cleared out for the night for a specific event. Five thirty. About time to head out. ||
<Bel|Dags> Flask topped up, tables wiped, food ordered, liquor sorted, clothes changed, car gassed.
<Bel|Dags> I turn to Maia from my spot at the bar. "Want a ride?" ||
<Antioch|GM> "I should be asking you that," she says. "That's the... what, fourth time you've topped up your flask?" ||
<Bel|Dags> "What're you, a cop?" I wink, pushing myself off the stool and concentrating to avoid a waver. "Sober as a judge." ||
<Antioch|GM> "Taking into consideration that we've got dirt on pretty much every crooked judge in this city," she says, "I'll take those keys." ||
<Bel|Dags> I roll my eyes, tossing them over regardless.
<Bel|Dags> "I'd ask odds that Mendez shows, but that feels like a bad bet already." ||
<Bel|Dags> -||
<Bel|Dags> I shrug my coat on, heading towards the door with the peacemaker strapped into the chest holster. ||
<Antioch|GM> It's a short drive. They get there earlier than they need to. The sun's already partways through setting, and there's a closed casket and a great many torches lining the area, providing some measure of warmth and a good deal of light. There are fold-out chairs with fabric covers, and a few people trickle in, here and there. Blake is at the head of it all,
<Antioch|GM> wearing a full suit of power armor sans the helmet. Just in case. ||
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<Bel|Dags> More than understandable.
<Bel|Dags> I head over to see him. "I heard." ||