Budding Heat

[20:31] The locale was certainly menacing, which only complemented the gathering of shrouded, mysterious individuals. In the center stood Crane, golden hues gazing at each in turn from behind his mask.

It had been a few months since their attack upon the Pelleaux manor, and things had been... Eerily quiet. Even so, their mission was not yet over, there was still plenty of work to be done.

"I am happy to see you all have survived under the noses of those dogs. While Salvation is not here anymore, and Elevans is on a mission, I will stand in their stead to deliver what news I have, as well as some recruitment matters."

With that, a large list was unfolded, several names atop the parchment. One by one he read them out:

https://pastebin.com/ZyFwfPrF

"I want these people vetted and scouted. If you believe them to be worthy recruits, then I expect you to engage and deliver me a full report. Failure is not an option."

His voice was of low pitch, laced with malice. Something had changed about him, not as laid-back as he had been prior. Anger riddled with hatred, directed towards those who had taken his associate's life.

"Furthermore, it has come to my attention that the knights suspect that the Syndicate has infiltrated the ranks of the Church. While this is true, those of you that are part need to take extra care in your day to day dealings. We can not afford to be outed."

"Should you fail and expose yourself, do not expect us to save you."

It is said matter-of-fact fashion, without emotion.

"If there are any questions, now is the time to speak. If not, then I will move onto the selection of our new Underboss. I have been given word and am prepared to promote properly."
(Crane)
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[20:36] Marrow was silent as usual, at least 'as usual' ever since the death of 'Salvation'. The skull-masked magi stood off to the side, leaning against the stony wall with that horned top lowered over his eyes and most of his face. Only a thin line for a mouth could be seen, and even that was difficult to make out in the shadows.

Crane's words were received with a single nod, the names of the new recruits carefully remembered, even if they weren't written down by anyone there.

Marrow's shoulders rose and fell steadily with each intake of breath, their movement almost reminiscent of Salvation's trademark shrug. He was calm and collected, and waited to hear more.
(Marrow)
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[20:37] Heathen's gaze, although fiery peers, display a monotone, dull glow- it was as if a firestorm had been calmed and dampened to something only appropriate to the atmosphere. The wild creature who had fought Basil plenty of months ago was nowhere to be found, having been summarily replaced by one whose presence was at least withstandable.

As the fall of their fallen partner is brought under the spotlight once more, however, the robbed revenant does not expose his opinion of Salvation's oblation this time- to him, she had done the Syndicate more harm than good, but lingering on it was a fool's errand.

As Crane offers them the opportunity to speak up in regards to doubts, he shakes his head, barely allowing the local lighting to illuminate whatever is within the chasm of blackness within his hood.

"Nay."
(Heathen)
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[20:37] Yeah, this place was unsettling as Demeanour could ever have expected. Of course, that was rather appropriate for their intended depiction of the organisation, so Demeanour rather liked it. Crane spoke, and the masked woman did indeed note that he seemed significantly more sinister in feel, something she expected was due to the unfortunate untimely death of Soiree.

The recruitment list was interesting, if only because the woman knew less than four of the names. Even so, it was an impressive number of potential recruits, and the idea of so significantly increasing their organisation's size was both encouraging, and a little disconcerting. Disconcerting because so many people would reduce operational security. Even so, it was clear that those here now were essentially the inner circle, the group that would remain in the know as much as possible.

She remained silent for the moment, having no questions of Crane, at least that she would ask in this meeting.
(Miss Demeanour)
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[20:39] Deceit faces Crane as they list out the names of their next likely play things. Though few seem familiar at a glance, causing a perpetual quesiton mark to hover above their head in an illusory bubble. "I'll keep my eyes open I guess." They comment, rubbing under their mask where their chin would be.

Though upon mention of the church, the figure takes a moment of pause - eventually reaching as the conversation goes on. They suspected this much - If rumours were anything to go by. That's why they have been taking extra precautions~ Though, for the sake of their cover, they remain motionless and voiceless.

Save for a single. "Nope, no questions."
(Deceit)
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[20:40] "One of them came through. Lis Beth. I'm still investigating what she told me, but..." A sigh leaves the figure under the mask. The news were important, after all, but they were growing restless. Crowley himself, at least, was.

"I will test the waters further again, soon." He spoke yet again, in simple confirmation that the task would be fulfilled- There were ways he could do so in simple fashion, after all. A brief glance is thrown to the side, towards Deceit, and then back to Crane.

The mask frowns.

"No questions."
(Crowley)
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[20:41] Listening intently, the burly yet only armour-clad man stood at the ready. Eyes hidden by his hood stared intently upon all in the room, yet truly mostly settled upon Crane. It was only after every name was spoken and questions were asked for, instead the man made a simple statement, "I will not be looking to recruit myself...As my public look and face is very much easily attached to how I look disguised."

It was the truth, one could easily put Stein and his noticeable large body frame together with Stein the city watches large frame. Though so far he had gotten away with it, their mind was settled upon not actually wanting people other then fellow 'enforcers' knowing he existed.

"No questions...Though if any of our brewers need these, they can have them." In the end, no words were spoken about the 'capture' situation, as it should be obvious that one might be abandoned at any time during so.
(Stein)
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[20:42] Raven watches, silently analyzing each of the members here. While he wasn't at the Gala Raid, he was on the constant watch above ground. All of those people spoken out, he would have to investigate alongside the others.

But, he continued to stay silent. He had no questions so far, and thus he would keep his silence until it was needed to be broken.
(Raven)
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[20:47] The square-shouldered magi drifted just behind the falls. Through the blurs and haze of the running water, the most observant could barely make out a neutral lip-line. She was a distant member, and hadn't attended many of the meetings. Two hands penetrate and separate the cloak Mink wore. The waterfall splits just enough so she could speak clearly without losing her voice to the rushing water.

"I do have a question." She begins. "One that may be answered as this meeting goes on, and if that's the case I will wait. I want to know our current goal." She looks around the room at the other members, "The Assassination attempt is known throughout all of Osrona. Few say it sent a message, but at the cost of one of our own. How will we take Osrona? How will we bring it to its knees? What are we working toward?"

Her voice was calm, but her word choice hinted to agitation. After her question is floored she says, "To play my part, I must know, that is all."
(Mink Fox)
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[20:54] "I am glad to hear that progress is going well, but before I get to that question, I will first name the member which has been promoted to Underboss."

Crane's gaze drifted between each person present, before landing atop that of Miss Demeanour. Goldens burrowed deep into her gaze for several moments, before he nodded in her direction.

No celebratory speech or commendation, merely acknowledgement.

"Our benefactor has made their will clear. Miss Demeanour will fill the blank spot left behind by Salvation. Should you need guidance or anything of that sort, she will be available to offer it."

With that out of the way, he turned on his heel to face Mink Fox. He regarded her with a blank expression, the mask all which is visible. While it was an entirely valid question, he had thought their intentions were clear from the get go.

Nonetheless, he would explain.

"Our goal?"

He asked in a semi-mocking tone, tilting his head to the right.

"It is to soak the streets in the blood of the nobility. We will not relent until they have been taken off of their high horse, forcibly removed from the pedestal which they have set themselves upon."

"That precious bloodline which garners them so many privileges will paint the walls. Any who have ever crossed the commonfolk, any who have taken advantage of the system and have gained from the loss of the less fortunate will be annihilated."

A pause, before continuing.

"We will liberate the people of Osrona one by one. Whatever it takes. Assassinations against their highest ranking officials, terrorist attacks like what we did at the gala. Working on the inside, infiltrating every facet of their government, ears everywhere."

"Rumors indicate that the peasantry is restless, they are ready to act. We will take full advantage of that fact."
(Crane)
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[20:59] As Crane's ideological discourse fills the crimson-paved chamber, the Heathen quietly wobbles from one side to another, having already heard something of the sort before- until it becomes more intense. Seething. Hateful.

He stands completely static in the ambit of the physical, and deep down, in a corner well concealed, even ecstatic. Salvation was too obsessed with vague ideas of enlightenment and martyrdom, whereas Elevans is, even if in the right track, somewhat moderate.

But burbling, overdue violence is something the lad can get behind. He was nothing if not ungonenial and explosive.

"Then we wage war."

And havoc they would wreak.
(Heathen)
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Oh. Demeanour had, all things considered, been peripherally aware that the vacant position left by Soiree needed to be filled, but she'd not expected it to be her. She would not, however, turn down such a position, and rather in fact do her best to make sure she did not fail the Syndicate as a leader. Crane didn't provide a speech or a commendation, which admittedly she expected, but as his words came to an end, reiterating their goal so that they were most certainly on the same page, the woman cleared her throat slightly. Seemed she rather wished to say something herself.

"I did not forsee this elevation, nor do I wish it were necessary. The death of Salvation was a terrible waste, and another crime to lay at the feet of the self-righteous scum who claim themselves above us, simply because of the cirumstances of their birth. This belief is foolish."

"It is not one's ancestry that gives them the right to power, but their own actions! This is a belief held strongly within my culture; that any position unearned might be challenged." Demeanour's eyes were a dull yellow, and she'd never hidden her Rhoynish heritage, so it was hardly out of the blue.

"Now, all of us standing here have been through trials and tribulations before. We have fought together, and by that we are bound. Having stood beside you, I know I can trust you. Which is why I'm comfortable doing this, to prove that." The woman's hands rose up, taking hold of the hood and drawing it down, the bandana following a moment later as she actually revealed an identity few of them likely knew. Iris looked at them each in turn for a few moments, before replacing her identity-obscuring garments.

"We are the Syndicate, and we will be the flame that burns this fucking cesspool of a city down!"
(Miss Demeanour)
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There was much in Heathen that resonated with the lifting of the poor and ascending them to a spot where dignity could be claimed without indescribable, herculean efforts- or even more so than that, above a spot of complete immobility in regards to social climbing, but-

In the end, his main motif for being affiliated with the Syndicate was his thirst for chaos, his appetite for destruction, and having gazed the opportunity to tantalize an incoming front of discord and devastation.

To him, it was not enough to promote equal rights between the wealthy and the poor. It was not enough to teach them a lesson, as many claimed to desire, or grow a seedling of conscientiousness within the bulk of their ideologies and dogmas, no.

It was owed and overdue that all they loved was flattened to rubble. It was indispensable and unprecedented that there would be nothing left for their Essharan oppressors to claim.

To Demeanour's, or rather, Iris' assertion, he motions a firm, satisfied nod. Crane's oration had earned his approval, and the new Underboss' had managed to meet the bar.
(Heathen)