Dark (Peri)Stylings!

===> COH <===> 11/14/2019, 10:14:34 AM <===
Hotel de Castillion - Peristyle

	Once a storage room, this chamber has been transformed into a religious shrine. A wooden pillar in the center of the room has been painted with twin serpents with iridescent, rainbow-colored scales rising upward from the floor to the ceiling, and is ringed at the floor with candles and copper offering plates. The floor is bare concrete, meticulously scrubbed clean but with lingering, unidentifiable stains. The walls have been painted with elaborate murals of horsemen, serpents, and saints. A large ceremonial altar is set against the Eastern wall, decorated with candles, icons of the saints, and ritual tools such as knives and cups. The room is kept oppressively dark, lit only by candles, hanging oil lamps, and one lonely electric light over the far door.
	Smaller rooms off of the main chamber include a room that is a storage room for ritual implements and a pantry with rows of shelves containing everything from bags of rice to jars of sharp-smelling herbal paste, and another room that has been turned into a sort of combination dressing room and shrine, with cabinets painted with veve symbols containing clothing and implements used by different spirits, along with a vanity table and mirror.
	The room is hushed and still, and as one stares at the murals and into the shadows, there is a deep sense of being watched, that something or some things are present in the darkness, waiting to present themselves.

Contents:
Spotted-Horse
Angel

	*** Nightzone ***

Obvious Exits:
  Angel's Haven <AH>   Basement <BA>

"Culture varies from place to place." Angel says. "The Sabbat here isn't the Sabbat in Haiti, Miami, or Montreal." Angel says, as he lays the plate out at the central pillar, and then opens an unlabeled bottle of rum. He pours out a tall measure of it, and then follows that up by taking a measure of it into his mouth. He holds it there, before he turns and spits it onto the coals in the hibachi, causing them to flare to life. He's working in the dark chamber, lit only by flickering candles, in the bowels of the old hotel -- in the interests of alliance, he invited MoGui there as well.

	Mo was always up for the novel and unusual. Destiny's powerful hand has made the bed of Mo's future, and it's up to him to lie in it! And you don't fight destiny. Ergo? Mo. Is. Here.

Spotted-Horse's eyes flick to the newcomer to the room. His demeanor darkens a little bit. Another Asian, likely another one of those Snake-Fairies-from-the-East that he's met. Despite obvious suspicions, a finger is pointed at MoGui and a question posed to Angel, "Who dat?" Destiny's path can be a rocky one.

	As someone who's apparently used to surprising appearances, Mo is not surprised. "For instance," Angel says, "I find that we suddenly have allies that I've never heard of before." He glances back to Spotted-Horse. "As I understand it, his name is... Mo?"

	Mo tips an imaginary hat to all and sundry, then offers a polite bow and a faint smile. "Mo' friends, mo' problems," he mutters.

	Angel turns. He's... actually just wearing a pair of blue briefs -- but it is incredibly, almost oppressively hot in the Peristyle, for SOME reason. "I want you to tell me more about these Wan Kuei. I asked -- that means 'Ghost People'."
Spotted-Horse's brow furrows at the lack of real answers to his question, "You will have more problems soon unless you speak clearly... friend." That accusatory finger wags in Mo's direction, "Be clear..."

	Mo offers up a mild shrug. "People are people, dead or alive. So they're people like anyone else - noble, petty. Effective, incompetent. Self-interested, altru-" A pause and she shakes his head, "Self-interested. As I understand it, not a whole lot different from the structures and squabbles out here in the west. The dominant group is the Quincunx. Their opposites have a much less formal designation - the Bamboo Princes."

"Allies, Spotted-Horse. Allies." Angel says. "Not toilet paper. I for one don't intend to repeating the mistake of wiping our ass with those who acknowledge we're monsters and still help us."

	And "Mo works just fine. More fully, its Hu MoGui, but this ain't China, so." A shrug. "Mo."

Spotted-Horse listens to Angel while slowly sheathing his wagging finger. He offers a nod in agreement before stating to the two, "That one. Hyo-..Hyou..." The word hangs in his tongue, "That one from before." He shakes his head, "He was acting a fool. A bad move after asking to run with us..." A light pause, "...his mind is cursed now. He has been given a task to cleanse it. But now, it is broken until he fixes himself. It is done."

Angel frowns at that, for some reason. "He's mad." Angel says, "And the greatest madness of his kind," He gestures to Spotted-Horse, "Is that they believe delusion is clarity. But since I believe lies contain the truth, who am I to argue with him. I wish you hadn't done that." He says, to Spotted-Horse.

	"The Wan Kuei are hungry ghosts, the damned, returned from the Thousand Hells." Mo gestures with his hands and arms dramatically. "Wind! Fire! That sorta thing." A pause as he calms down a little. "Very powerful back home, very old." There's other matters also afoot, so Mo goes quiet. And listens.

Spotted-Horse looks to Angel, "You are young and do not understand. Allies are good, yes. But that Hyo-... " he rolls his finger in the air, a thing to deal with the trouble with the word Hyousuke, "... He wants to -run- with us. Not be friends, be brothers... That is a task that is not taken lightly." Mo's chatter about Wind, Fire & Stuff Like That does catch his interest. "Speak more on this."

	Mo lifts his eyes up to the unseen heavens then gestures all around him. "The spirit worlds surround us. Binds us. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter. You must feel the Celestial Heavens and the Ten Thousand Hells all around you - here, between you, me, the walls, the coals and candles and the flames, everywhere. Even between the lands this side of the Wall and the other."

	"The Hungry Ghosts can bend the forces of heaven and hell to their will. But at the cost of their place in the way of things." Mo shrugs. "Some say it's a fair deal, others say it's a fool's wager."

	"And if you asked me for something outlandish, and in return, I hexed you?" Angel says? He fetches some items off a shelf, and binds them together in a pestle, with brisk turns of his wrist. "That's Star Wars, I know that one." He says, before he adds, "Go on."

Spotted-Horse nods intently to the words from Mo, "That is all true. Spirits are around us all the time. In all things. And there are layers upon layers that hold different spirits..." He raises his hands, "It is getting to each layer that challenges me. I can reach some, others are beyond me... for now."

 Angel's words strike Spotted horse like a thin dagger of words to the chest, "Our Brothers and Sisters have already proven themselves. I do not require them to prove themselves to me personally." A pause as he seems genuinely struck by the semi-accusation of ill, "The Snake-Spirit-Man is asking more than to be Amigos. You understand this, right?"

	Mo looks between Spotted Horse and Angel. Two more different and distinct beings in a room he couldn't think of. Well, he /could/ but, you catch the drift. "The Quincunx and the Bamboo Princes are engaged in a struggle over the path forward. The struggle has spilled, is spilling, onto the Baja coast."

"I do." Angel says. "I also know that that which is not growing is dying. The snake sheds its skin. Are you so satisfied with the way things are?" He asks, as he continues to grind. "He jumped in front of me to take a bullet. Which was hilarious, but also... oddly endearing."

	Angel raises an eyebrow. "Bad move, taking your fight to another gang's turf. Do they think so little of us?"

	"Well, apparently someone invited them in. I haven't been lucky enough to map out all the angles." A pause and a smile brightens Mo's features. "Yet. But yeah, you invite the ghosts in, you best not miss with the proton pack. Or the ghost trap. Or something."

Spotted-Horse nods, "If the bullet was not lethal... was it just an act to gain your favor?" He lets his suspicions hang before blurting out double-speak, and gesturing to Mo, "This one seems similar. I ask of him not what I ask of the other... Why? Because the other has invited testing, knows the risks and accepts. They strive for a closeness that non-Cainites do not typically receive." He's frustrated, wondering if his words are coming out how he intends, and the chatter of invading forces in Baja misses him.

"Of course we shouldn't just LET him in." Angel says, "This is a disagreement about methods." He finishes grinding the powder, and then takes a handful of it, before he throws it onto the hibachi, which flares green, and lets out a burst of fragrant smoke. He looks to MoGui. "I ASSUME you're his superior. Did he tell you about his intentions?" Then he adds, "I like Hyousuke. But he is... stubborn."

Spotted-Horse does look to Mo with a different air but places a hand on Angel's shoulder to add, "I hold Honor in high regard, Brother. I ask you have faith in my methods even if you disagree..." He does not await response before looking a Mo for his answers.

	Mo blinks, owlishly. "I'm no one's superior. I don't even have a gang yet." A chuckles, "I'm just a simple man, trying to make my way in an overly complicated universe."

	Clearly, much of Mo's guideposts for interacting with the westerners comes from an overconsumption of niche nerd pop culture!

	"Well, he decided, very impetuously, that he wants to join our organization." Angel says, before he rubs the back of his neck. "It may be my fault. He's--" he glances back to Spotted-Horse. "Enamored of me. And I do so *enjoy* being admired. It's in the blood. A whole nest of smug little gods."
Spotted-Horse has no more to add at this point. His statements are posed by Angel and he peers to Mo for clarity.

	Mo sighs, "A new life awaits you in the Off-world colonies, they said. The chance to begin again in a golden land of opportunity and adventure, they said." He reaches for a pack of cigarettes in one of his pockets, but doesnt pull one out to smoke. "But really, it was just Meet the new boss, same as the old boss." A shrug as he shakes it off. "'m not interested in continuing to labor under the old boss. So. Here I am."
Spotted-Horse's eyes trail back to Angel for remark. He begins to catch the Pop Culture references now. The few that stuck over the years...

	Angel glances back to Spotted-Horse. "You see?" he says, as he starts preparing something else. "We're all mad here." He works, "He said, as he prepared a ritual to earn the greater favor of the spirit of magic in a ritual to attain greater power." He hums, to himself, and then looks up, an eyebrow perking.

	Mo looks around the space. "Thank you for your hospitality. For hearing me out. I s'pose you've earned a little something in return. if you'd like? I can arrange the space for you to make some occult workings a little easier. Alchemy. Astrology. That sorta thing. Think about the task you'd like to receive the benefit, then let me know. It'd take ame a few hours to align and arrange everything to bring your workings into greater harmony with the heavens and hells." A smile. "If you work with spirits, it might also make it easier to work with them."

	 The Mad Indian glances between the two speaking about weakening the Veil. He scoffs to himself, seemingly amused by the prospect. For one that's annoyed by spirits consistently, making it easier to speak with them sounds like turning up the music that's annoying you. Another pat on Angel's shoulder, "If he decides against his choice to run with us, I will leave him to his devices." His hand leaves the shoulder, "But, if he wants to run with us you must trust my guidance." A pause for weight, "Can you do this?"

	Angel tilts his head at Spotted-Horse, and then he says, "I can. But you break it, you bought it." He says, before he straightens up. "You can practice geomancy?" He asks. "I never had the knack. Just not a good enough interior decorator." He smirks at the joke, and then adds, "My lineage are the greatest sorcerers among the race of Caine. But... certain things? We're not good at. But you need to tell me what the Wan Kuei ARE good at, so I know what to expect."

	"Tso Tao - the black way." Mo's brow furrows. "Geomancy, sure. Tomato, tomato. And individually with the wan kuei, there are always gaps. But when they come to you in a wu? Less gaps. More things that are good at."
Spotted-Horse shakes his head and lightly titters amusement, "That is the point: He breaks or stays strong and becomes us." The amusement fades, "The task he has now is personal but you should speak with him once more, Just so he understands what is at stake and what is expected of him to be True. If he listens and thinks darkly, I will treat him simply as your friend. But..." A pause for dramatic effect, "Should he wish to continue the path, accept it."

	"That's the way it is with anyone." Angel says, with a shrug. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm not as up on my Chinese and Korean methods, practitioners of Vodou usually study European ceremonial magic as part of their practice." He glances back to Spotted-Horse, and then says, "Many paths, One Sabbat." He glances back to MoGui. "If you haven't noticed, we're hardly a lockstep army. It's... complicated. And I don't know how much of it I'm comfortable disclosing. But our kind have been in a state of civil war for the last..." he thinks, "Roughly five hundred years. And we weren't all that civil before that."

Spotted-Horse accepts the statement and replies. "Some of us work for Ancients, some of us work to stop the puppet-masters." A turn to Mo before back to Angel, "Speak to him one last time on this subject. You know how dangerous what he wants is." His eyes close in a double-blink and he shakes his head, "I will say no more now." Back to Mo, "You carry yourself differently, Mo. This is good..." A slow succession of steps begins leading him to the door.

	Mo gives Spotted Horse a thumbs up! Mo survived! (For now.) "See you 'round, I'm sure." Then he looks to Angel. "In a wu, or pack, the wan kuei are capable of most anything, depending on how far along their path each member has walked. Physical and spiritual feats of wonder. Lemme know when you want me to arrange your shop down here. But I gotta split to make a delivery."

	"I have work to do anyway," Angel says, "So it's just as well."
===> Log ended by user <===> 11/14/2019, 11:52:20 AM <===