Vim: Tales from Lumina (Fantasy/Arcanepunk/IC)

[True Refuge]

Everton Tallow

It took another slow, panning glance at the room's walls and entrance for Everton to acknowledge the protections. Perhaps a closer look at the craftsmanship would be needed, just to verify that the runes weren't due for a reapplication or maintenance or something of the sort. If Blackstone used an amateur to do the work, he'd best keep an eye on the markings. But, he stayed in place, eyes down at the briefcase, and nodded. Blackstone didn't seem miserly enough for that to be the case, even with how difficult it was to get quality runesmiths to not turn up their noses at smaller orders in the current market.

"That'll be enough," he said, but his voice stayed low regardless. He unlocked the briefcase with a fluid moment, watching the markings recognise several runes on his fingertips, and looked at the neatly organised papers and folders inside. They were separated into two unlabeled stacks between a little leather divider. He picked up the case, placed it on Blackstone's desk and turned it around so that the papers faced her. "Being that you were born in Alba, I'm sure you've heard of the Ernst family at some point," he said, watching her. "They practically dominate the runesmithing upmarket in Alba and maintain major interests in Vim-mixture production and numerous other magic manufacturing sub-industries throughout Adra."

He clasped his hands together on his lap, settling into the chair's comforts. "The Ernsts' business arm set up a refinery outside of the city a short while back, a large one. They've been using it to experiment with new Vim mixtures involving very rare and refined strains of vis and virl." He leaned forward a little. "The inner leadership thinks someone's running a spoiler and siphon on their Vim supplies. For the last four months, discarded Vim and wastage across at least one of each Vim type's refining operations and especially for processes using those two strains at that specific refinery have been hovering around half a percent lower than the maximum allowed before the business' guidelines call for some sort of action.The security executive has checked with the suppliers of the equipment, citing a need to know if anyone else in their customer base was having wastage problems. Those figures were considerably higher than natural inefficiencies, and there's no sign of defects in other refineries using the same or similar equipment. Whoever's doing it is circumventing some extremely thorough safeguards. You can see where the Ernsts went with that."

A quick pause. Indeed, there had been some vitriol exchanged while discussing this topic. He'd been fortunate enough to be waiting to discuss another errand with the security executive when it came up on the telephone, and to not be the one who had to account for the amount of time it took for the discovery to reach that mansion deep in the Albian countryside.

"They would have used their usual underground retainers to deal with this problem, but there are whispers that the perpetrator has contacts in that arena. The police were never contacted, of course. And, they can't conduct an in-house investigation into a number of employees that large without the saboteur hearing about it."

"My employers need you to find whoever's doing the siphoning and the network organising the operation. In terms of a time-frame, the refinery's losing eighty-five thousand dinars a week in potential revenue. Now, relative to the Ernsts' total revenues, it's not overly significant, but the productivity costs are hurting investor confidence, so the quicker the better." He gestured to the open briefcase. "A summary of the refinery's operations, workforce, and financials are in the left stack, and a very preliminary list of suspects in the right. I've been told your compensation is currently authorized at fifteen hundred dinars as a retainer, a salary of three hundred dinars per day, and related expenses."

He waited a moment to let it all sink in. "Your thoughts on the matter?"

[Naval Monte]

Lumina- Sibyl Blackstone
Blackstone's Home

Sibyl looked at the briefcase and admitted to herself that his was of a much higher quality than hers. "Is that actual leather?" she pondered to herself. When synthetic composites were discovered there was a boom for such materials, eventually there was more of the synthetic variant that they eventually made the natural leather much rarer, as such an item that the wealth would sought after to show off their wealth and status.

But the surprises were not done at she saw runes on the suitcase and would feel them reacting to runes on the Watcher's fingers. When he took out the files the half elf gingerly reached out and touched the first one that was on her desk by the corners. Almost fearful that it would break if she applied too much pressure on it. As she slowly open it and looked at the content she heard the mage speak. Looking through the files she heard what the mage told her but still read through the files, finding a few things that surprised her along with the amount of money being paid for her service.

Once the mage was done speaking she would close the left file and looked at him."My first question is who are you and why are you working with the Ernsts? As for the family in question yes, I'm familiar with the Ernst. My father and mother had a few meetings with them and I heard the many rumors and stories about them." She told him, watching his reaction. "What is your relations with them that they would want you to work with them?" She asked, curious on why the former Watcher choose to work for the old family.

Her eyes went to the left files. "Tell me more on these rare strain of Vis and Virl? Why are they rare, how did they find them, who else know about them, what can they do compare to their normal counterparts, and more importantly what does the Ernst intend to use them?" The half elf asked as she was now intrigued by the case presented to her. Yet she was also worried about what the family might be doing with the rare Vim

Sibyl folded her hands again as she lean forward on her desk. "As for the underground retainer and why they didn't go to them? They made the right call. Getting up from that area of society is a double edged sword. You may get what you want but at the same time you might invent some future disaster in your life." She told him as she began to look at the files again.

She chose the file on the refinery to get a better picture of the facility this criminal is stealing from so to get a good picture on the scale of the operation, to see if she is dealing a group of criminals or a syndicate. Once she was done with the left stack she turn to the right."So you and the Ernst suspect some of the individuals in charge of the Vim Consortiums to be behind this. Especially this one." She pointed at one particular name. On ending with Ashwood. "Do you have any reasons why you suspect them to be responsible for the siphon operation?"Sibyl couldn't ignore the coincidence that somehow she got two cases in one day related to the Consortium. She wasn't ready to fully say that they are involved by the timing is suspicious.

Sibyl looked back at the mage "The amount your willing to pay me us a shock however, more so than who you are accusing of stealing from the Ernst." The half elf admitted. "When you say related expensive what do you mean by that? Also why are you willing to pay me so much?" Sibyl was told to never look st a gift horse at the mouth but she was still suspicious by why he felt the need to pay her so much?

[True Refuge]

A collab post by Naval Monte and True Refuge

---

Lumina
Blackstone’s Home/Blackstone Agencies

How inquisitive this Blackstone was. Those were fair questions too. He’d have asked along similar lines if a major family’s agent came along with a seemingly lucrative proposition and, in the same breath, told him he wasn’t their first choice by far. And yet, she was thinking the instant her eyes met the files, already wondering about the pieces. Had that been a slight hitch in her breath when she quickly pored over the case’s luxuries? That missed beat was fleeting, well-concealed if it was indeed a sign of surprise.

“I suppose we should address the matters of my identity and loyalties first,” he said, laying his hands on the armrests. “In simplest terms, I have a history with the Ernsts, one extending back to when Vim-based technology was just getting started. We have standing agreements, long-term ones. I assist them with their more serious problems, and they assist me in several of my own, private projects.”

Sibyl nodded as he told her how long he was working for the Ernst. “That checks up with your history as a Watcher. The Aqyar War was the first true modern war to be heavily decided by the implementation of Vim-tech, right?” she said. “But still it's rather incredible how long Virl based treatment can keep someone living, and with little signs of aging declining their physical and mental capacity.” the detective said with a clear tone if being impressed.

“I have had some assistance in that regard.” Everton glanced at the fireplace and the crackling wood within, flames twisting back and forth. Such a vague reminder, drawing out so many old but not-quite-there stories not to be told. “As for my identity,” he went on, “my employers would rather I not reveal it, at least not for a while. They implied that my old selves would be distractions to a curious person such as yourself. I can sympathise with that, having lived through it all. But, of course, I’m sure you could figure it out on your own. You should have enough clues by now.” And Dornan had made it much easier. That damned fool. Could he have really misinterpreted such a thinly veiled verbal jab?

“Call it a preliminary test of your deductive abilities, then,” he said, leaving the commissioner and his time-wasting simpleness behind. He watched her once more with the same stillness. “I imagine it would not require much of your time.”

The half-elf detective was silent as she went back to all of the stories on the Watchers, thinking of the names and trying to see which one fits with the man before. She looked at the briefcase and remember feeling magic coming from his fingertips and the runes etched upon them. They had a strange style to them, something she hadn’t seen for many years outside the halls of Alba’s ultra-rich. One historied and faded name came to mind. The gap in the conversation grew as she sat in contemplation. Everton offered no qualms about it. Instead, he took the opportunity to stand and pace to a side of the room, hands clasped behind his back. Sibyl tracked him closely as he stood over her record player. Perhaps he appreciated rare antiques.

Her father had once boasted about gifting a rune-enhanced piece of jewellery to her mother with a style quite similar to that, but the edges on the inscriptions had been a little less smooth than the ones on the Watcher’s skin. Many years ago her father had spoken the name of the author of that unique style. She grasped at the clue. “You knew the runesmith Quartz didn't you? He was involved with the Watchers. I remember that some said he was the most talented runesmith in all of Alba,” she said to him as she tried to recall the names of this Quartz’s associates. She couldn’t see his face while he was looking down and away from her, flicking between her record collection a little too invasively. Had it provoked him into letting something slip in his expression? She couldn’t quite tell. Her eyes widened when one more name came to her. “Kiri! That’s it! I remember Quartz was involved in that trial with the Taurican girl.” she looked at the man's face closely. “You looked different back then but you were present back then, weren't you?”

He straightened her records before he replied. “I did know the Rune Grandmaster Quartz Ernst,” he answered in a tone just approaching a cutting bark, but otherwise tried to let the names wash over him. It was likely a bit of fun for her, this back-and-forth. The Ernsts knew what it meant for him, though, what the stories meant for his reputation of those few they were told to, and yet they still made it their test of choice. “All of us did. He was our quartermaster. We knew him for better and for worse, but that doesn’t narrow it down, does it? And, all of us were at that trial, supporting that girl and Quartz. We even took a photograph afterwards with one of those ancient prototype cameras now taking up centrepiece of the Luminian Museum’s prize exhibits. You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

Sibyl frowned. The Luminian Museum... Damn it. She’d broken her promise to take her daughter to the museum today due to her work. “I’ve seen that item before. I once had a case that related to it. You may have seen it in the papers. An artist who believed that photography would kill classical painting wanted to steal and destroy the camera. I stopped that from happening.” she explained. That was one of her favourite cases, really. Sometimes she’d look over her old files on it, enjoying a short burst of pride where she could.

The recount didn’t seem to elicit a response. If anything, she picked up on a flicker of irritation as he went back to her office furnishings, so Sibyl decided to go back to the more pressing topic, the Watcher's past. Sibyl thought more on how to narrow down the candidate pool further. "Tell me, was it true that your group dealt with one of the first spirits to return to Numina for a very long time? That it never left this world, instead being trapped here when the gods left and closed the gateways to the spirit realms and instigated the decline of the old magic?" she asked, looking at him with the same curiosity, an expression that when coupled with her large blue eyes, rounded face, and short stature would make her look adorable.

“Some of that was true. That’s about as much as you’ll learn about Hashimoto from me. His past is his own.” He fiddled with an old picture frame, brushing off its coat of dust. A young woman took up the centre of the photograph, but it was difficult to see who exactly it was. Her features didn’t quite match Blackstone’s. Maybe it was Blackstone’s elven mother.

The Watcher was stonewalling her, Sibyl thought. His responses had that undercurrent of warning sharpness, but at the same time they were told as truths. So, he knew his way around words. A minor setback, nothing more. "If you were with Quartz, did you inherit his wealth after he disappeared? I heard one Watcher managed to be one of the greatest beneficiaries in his will, and that the bequest was large enough he never had to do military work again. And, is it true that this Watcher had so many runes on his body that he might as well have been constantly wearing magical armor?" She waited patiently for his reply.

“Would a suspect answer truthfully when you ask if they’re guilty?” he said, not even deigning to glance away from the pictures this time. “You’re asking me to make the conclusion for you.”

“You're right, a suspect would never tell the truth if they are guilty. But the only crime you’ve committed was deserting your post to save a little girl.”

Everton’s hand halted in mid-air, halfway to the next picture. Sibyl, back to reading over the files, missed it. “A crime that I personally would have given you a slap on the wrist for,” she said, enunciation deteriorating momentarily as her attention moved from line to line. “But you're right. I will figure it out on my own.”

The hesitation from Everton drew a momentary look from Sibyl, but he was already moving on. “Regarding the Vim in use at the refinery,” he continued, looking back to her. “The vis and virl mixtures being siphoned are only found naturally in very specific conditions. Currently, the Ernsts are the only ones aware and in control of its collection from a cave system in Far Eastern Taurica. With the right enhancements, they say, the experimental recipes could mitigate the risks of complications in many Vim-based symbological procedures. In its raw state, the Vim wouldn’t be anywhere near as powerful, but in theory it still would have that capability, among its other less predictable effects.”

Sibyl arched a brow when she heard that the Ernst found a stash within Taurica. “I'm surprised they managed to convinced Tsar, the regional princes, and noble families to set up an extraction operation in their lands. As I understand it, Taurica’s notorious for keeping most foreign companies off Vim deposits.” she explained. She was fairly familiar with the Tauricans’ characteristic stubbornness. Her father had once talked with her uncle on how they had difficulties on building new facilities in the country because they wished to use local Vim deposits. It took many years of negotiations and a ton of compromises from both sides to get just half of the intended facilities built.

“Is Vuk used? You mentioned that they found them in caves and caves are one of the many locations to find it. If you believe the rumors some say that Vali can be found underground as well. But I rather doubt the Ernst manage to find a Vali deposit. If they did, the Tauricans probably would have kicked them out and built the refinery themselves.”

Interesting how she glanced over the Taurican deposit being developed in the first place. So trusting, Everton thought, or, on a more impressive note, respectful of her clients’ less than savoury dealings. Or had the rumours had misled her? The Ernsts, a grand house of the Albian Isles, able to break through the old grudges of conflict? Unlikely. That blindness could become a problem later. Lapis had mentioned something like that in a footnote on the surveillance reports, it wasn’t quite unexpected. More reason to keep an eye on it.

“Of course. When dealing with infusions and such, they need the biological control that Vuk gives them, or so their symbologists say.”

Sibyl looked through the files of suspects. Looking at the list of suspects again to see if any Taurican companies were on them. Sure enough a couple were in the list, more telling each one was own by either the state or by a local noble with connections to the Tsar. “You know with the location of which they found the deposit I wouldn't be surprised if your saboteur was Taurican in origin.”

She looked back at the list and in it she saw many high profile drug lords, many she knew their names and even investigated cases that many suspect had ties to them. But as she look through the crime lords her eyes fell back to the names of companies making up the Vim Consortium. “So which of the Consortium do you suspect might be the one who stands to gain from sabotaging the Ernst's business?”

“Any of them could be the culprit. In the last year it’s become clear that the Ernsts have the resources and political capital to be a major competitor to the Consortium in the Luminian Vim industries. All the members would benefit from keeping the market closed. Of course, as you pointed out, there are one or two that stand out, but only to a small extent. The Ernsts have not been able to develop many leads due to the circumstances I’ve already mentioned, but there’s some indication from the higher leadership on a few of them.”

“I see. So, Vis being found in the caves tells me that these caves are found in high elevation so the deposits are at a mountain range, no doubt the same mountain range that cuts the middle region into the western and eastern halves of Taurica.” she mused as she flipped through the files. “But a family like the Ernst can afford to burn through money to transport as much equipment up into the coldest and highest parts of Taurica as they please. My guess is that these caves act like tunnels that allow wind to enter from one opening and exit another, explaining how Vis can form.” the half elf stated, turning over another piece of paper. “But that is all just a theory after all. The Ernst removed all traces of where the deposit is so I can only theorize as to its exact whereabouts.”

“The deposit is not related to the case besides its most cursory details,” Everton interjected, pausing his reading of the newspaper articles framed on the wall. His posture had stiffened slightly. “It’s best that you do not discuss it.”

“True.” Sibyl look back at the mage. “Now I'm curious on why Blackstone Industries is absent? I know old families like the Ernst don't like industrialists like my father for quickly reaching wealth and power that they’ve possessed for generations. Yet they’ve excluded his company.” she said with a noticeable edge. “I suspect they did it because they think I would be offended if I saw the name on the list, but I'm more annoyed by the fact they chose to hide that from me,” she told him. “I will confess on not knowing how old families like them operate but I know their animosity towards the growing upper middle class and how some from that part of society can reach wealth and status equal to them.” from the way she spoke it was obvious she was speaking from experience.

“Which is why Ashwood isn't too surprising to see on the list. But there is more to why she and her company are in the list isn't there?”

“The Ernst family most definitely are not taking into account whether or not a suspect list offends you,” he said with a small, harsh smile that disappeared quick as it came. “To be frank, they don’t consider your father’s company as a threat to their interests. You would have to ask them to understand why. I’d assume it’s the pride of old money and the youth of Blackstone Industries. Again, I cannot be certain. As for Ashwood, my employers believes her to be opportunistic and influential enough to be able support an operation of this kind without the fear of real consequences. Hence her popular monikers.”

Sibyl didn't show any signs of whether she took offense to the Ernst not considering her father's company a threat. Instead she would point out, “Ashwood’s company is even younger than my fathers. But I suspect they feel threatened by her because unlike my father she hurts their pride as mages. After all, she was known as a revolutionary scholar of the arcane arts before she started her company. A lot of conservatives decried some of her more outrageous theories, only begrudgingly accepting them when they shown to create working spells.”

Straight to the heart of it, Everton thought. “I can’t pretend to know, unfortunately, but I suppose that is sensible. Her lifestyle isn’t exactly what a grand family would call traditional. Perhaps it could be her partner, Orlozz. He does seem to be somewhat enraptured by profits and the business at times.”

Sibyl chucked. "Well what do you expect from the "Queen" herself. Her lifestyle isn't what most would say should be something a proper lady should do. But, considering how unconventional she was with magic, it isn't to surprising that her personal life would reflect that."

The more she looked at the mage the more her mind tried to think who he could be. Her mind began to recall photo albums and newspaper clippings she saw about the war, his face appearing along with, any others surrounded by fuzzy words. The half elf found how difficult it was frustrating. She’d read about this period of history when she was a child. She knew this!

Her eyes went to the dinars and took some, flipping a few through her fingers. "I shouldn't complain about how much I'm getting for this but isn't it a bit excessive?"

“Ah, yes, the payment. I understand the surprise.” He began to recite the terms in a fast breeze of speech and insistence. “My employers want to ensure your loyalty in every way possible. You already know that the information we’ve discussed can’t be shared with anyone else, not without explicit permission. The Ernst leadership also can’t be seen as misers by the rest of the family when it comes to issues of such import as this. There’s also hazard pay, factoring in the danger you might be exposed to while interfering in grand family business. On expenses, you will be compensated for any travel, meals, equipment, bribery or other operational costs related to your investigation to a reasonable degree pending approval by myself and one of the Ernsts’ accountants.”

He dug deep into one of his coat pockets and extracted a roll of paper covered in tiny writing and a bundle of notes, uncrumpled except for a slight furling despite their time travelling in cramped pockets. “I have the contract and your retainer with me,” he said as he walked over and placed both on the detective’s desk. “Do you find these terms agreeable?”

Sibyl took the piece of paper and read every word while looking for any hidden clauses that would give the Ernsts legal power to take advantage of the woman. She’d both heard and experienced that first hand. It’d been very difficult to deal with that. Really, when it came to old families like the Ernsts, trickery like that wasn’t that uncommon. “You expect me to bribe people? Do you expect me to blackmail and murder as well?” She turned her sight back to the paper.

“Only if necessary.”

Sibyl's mind was back to guessing who the Watcher was, her mind back to photos and stories. Remembering the deeds performed by the greatest members of the Watchers. The detective was thinking back to written descriptions of the members. She looked up at the mage. “How far will they financially support me? I need to know what are the limits to their support so I don't find myself suddenly losing favor from them.”

“Five thousand would be the initial limit. It can be raised if needed.” He stopped, locked in recollection for a second. “If the expense is genuine and within reason.”

The detective nodded. “And what should occur to any item I buy using their money?” Sibyl knew that from past encounters with old families they may force her to hand over any item she bought using their money. She wonder if the Ernst are like those families or they are like the ones who won't care about the item even if their money was used to buy it.”

“That will be decided at the conclusion of the investigation, though I predict that my employers will requisition any specialist equipment that won’t be useful for your more ordinary investigations.”

Sibyl nodded. “I figured as such. I take it if I used the money to buy materials for a device I will own it?” she asked. She’d eliminated several Watchers off her mental list now. Only a few left now. He wasn’t Walter Usher - honourably discharged before the war ended - or Matthew Watcher. The latter hadn’t been seen in public for almost two decades. Nor was he very likely to be any of the female Watchers. She’d ruled out most of the roster, but the remaining names escaped her. “Should my investigation end up with other people involved, what should we do with them?”

“Again, we’ll decide who possesses purchased items after this is all finished. On the topic of bringing others in, I would need to assess your associates before you discuss confidential information with them. Why would you need them?”

Sibyl lifted her hand and had one finger raised up. “An additional investigator to help with searching for clues.” she rose another finger. “Should conflict emerge I could use an additional guard to protect and help me.” another finger was lifted up. “If this new member has medical knowledge we can use their assistance.” A fourth. “If we have someone who is good around people we can have them try to sweet talk people into helping us or to look the other way.” she brought up her thumb. “And finally, an additional mage would be useful if they specialize in fields of magic I’m not well versed in.”

“Reasonable enough, although my employers are unlikely to make any substantial increases to your salary or expense allowance to cover a large team. The smaller and more discreet, the better, obviously. The current fund should cover your candidates’ involvement up to normal market rates. But, if you intend to have such assistance, my employers may require that I take a more active supervisory role to ensure confidentiality is maintained. Would that be objectionable?”

Sibyl was silent. She still couldn't find out who he was yet but this deal wasn’t one she could say no to. Well, maybe she could. Nothing stood in her way, but the way that the Ernsts had phrased the recital and this Watcher’s tone… She’d heard the stories about people who refused to help grand families in their scheme. It was difficult to decide whether the local crime lords’ retributions were more sickening.

How can figuring out one man's identity be this infuriating?” She berated herself as she smoothed out the contract’s curls. She put her elbows on the desk and brought her hands up to her chin, resting her head on them. She gave him a pleasant smile and when she spoke she did so in a tone to match the smile, hiding her true feelings about her inability to put together who he is. “It would be an honor to have you supervise my team Mr. Watcher. We can see this as you teaching the younger generation what you’ve learned in your long and colorful career.” The detective would put down one hand as she grabbed a ballpoint pen. “I accept the terms of your contract.” she told him as she signed her initials on the paper.

The moment her pen left the paper the Watcher was in front of her, snapping the contract off the desk. She frowned, regarding the space where it had been unthinkingly. Such a strange move for an agreement that seemed entirely fair. She was watching the man’s face, which was as impassive as ever. His eyes though… Harsh, like there was a searing fire amid the stone. In a flash, one last clue to the Watcher’s identity surfaced.

She and her family had listened to an old phonograph recording of an old radio interview after that court-martial ended. It had been scratchy, faded and full of static when she’d heard it, like all everything preserved on the rolled sheets of metal those archaic devices used, but there was no mistaking that cold, unrepentant tone that warned that the wrong answer would have consequences.

”All I did was help someone in need, someone found by a great Albian in enemy territory and neglected by her supposedly benevolent Tsar Matthias’ government. The major did not hesitate to put me in front of a tribunal for that. Now sir, would that be objectionable?”

In her mind the name of the man in front of her burned bright. As the realization began to dawn on her, a chill slithered down her very being, the air on her lungs too cowardly to leave as her heart started beating a speedy, thumping rhythm. The half elf's mouth suddenly felt dry and as she tried to form words she found that her brain was stuck, circulating the stories and rumours about the Watcher and his name over and over. Even if it could string together those two heavy words, her mouth was refusing to move.

Everton watched her and smiled. “I suppose you’ve figured it out. Congratulations. I suggest you take the time to think about what your conclusion means before you choose which associates to introduce to me.” He turned away for the door, but offered one last look back. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow morning to assess your plan for the investigation. Good day to you, Miss Blackstone.”

Sibyl still said nothing as he said his goodbyes and left, the half elf only staring at the door yet she was not actually paying attention to the junk of dead wood. Sibyl lean forward and grabbed her head as she began to dread on the case she just accepted. “Fine job Sibyl,” she told the empty office. “You might have signed your death warrant if you mess this up.” She slammed her forehead on the desk. “What should I do?” she muttered to herself.

Everton Tallow. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been one of the legions of agents the Ernsts’ surely had on their payroll? Why was it that fate had determined that Tallow would be breathing down her neck for the coming weeks? She may not have recalled his name at first, but the stories of dried blood on Taurican snow weren’t something to be forgotten. He’d killed that General Ulyanov out in the open, in the middle of the Aqyar War, in front of representatives from almost all of Taurica’s noble houses, with a damn smile on his face! To think that in peacetime he’d been working with the Ernsts. One could only imagine his collection of wealth and power, financial and magical, nurtured over the years...

The half elf was left in silence as she came to grips that her only solution now was not to fail whatever expectations Tallow and the Ernsts’ had laid on her. Needless to say the half elf was glad she kept a bottle of fine whiskey stashed in her desk drawer. She’d need it tonight. The half elf toyed with the impulse to pack up and leave with her daughter, to vanish into the ether, to get away from Tallow and the Ernsts.

Sibyl shook her head, slamming her hands on her desk. “NO! I will not back away from this. I moved to this cut to show my family and the world that I can work on my own and succeed in life without relying on my families connection, status, and wealth.”the half elf said to herself. The half elf took out the whiskey bottle and the glass, pouring herself a hearty serving of the warm liquor.

As she grabbed the full glass she began to spin it, watching the fluids in the glass spinning and swirling. “Maybe I was being a bit hyperbolic before.” she knew her mother supported her, it was her father who she was trying to convince. In a way she could understand where her father was coming from. Sibyl is his only child and for a long time he protected her from what he perceived as threats to her. It would be hard for him to not still see her as his little girl.

Sibyl began to nurse the whiskey. She was going to still keep going through the case. If she somehow survived through it than it should be the evidence she needed to prove to her father that she could take care of herself.

[Prusselanden]

Blighttown
"I haven't gotten a letter from Mum in a long time." Jonah sighed, trudging along Jules on the streets of Blighttown.

Jules smiled. "I'm sure she's ok. We move around a lot without a permanant address. It's very difficult to get letters to us that way."

"I can't but worry about her, though. She only sent me away, but she's still living in the city with the little ones. If the threat is really as great as she thinks it is, can you imagine what they will do to to my brothers and sisters?" Jonah wrinkled his brow with worry. "I'm sorry, I just...I can't let it go."

A man suddenly approached them. "Yamada?"

"Yes?" Jules became cautious. "That is me."

"Here." He handed her an envelope.

"Hm." Jules opened it. "Well, look who decided to write." She handed the paper to Jonah, who scrambled to read it. After initially lighting up, his face then fell.

"It's not getting any safer. I'll have to stay in hiding for longer." He crumpled the paper up and threw it on the ground. "Of course it's not better. It never gets better. This is so stupid!"

"Jonah-"

"I don't want to live like this...." The boy turned and ran.

"Jonah!" Jules frantically sprinted after him, but she collided with a nearby pedestrian coming from the left. When she got up, Jonah was nowhere in sight. It took a minute to register that he disappeared, but when Jules realized this, she could feel her heart and breathing rate skyrocket in seconds. If he really did get lost, he wouldn't survive the night in this place.

[Naval Monte]

Lumina- Sibyl Blackstone
Blackstone Residence

By the time morning started Sibyl tried to pretend that it would be a usual day for her. She washed up, got dressed, made breakfast, saw her daughter off to school, and began to her usual rounds through the city blocks. Of course she couldn't forget everything from yesterday. The drug trade operation, the connection to the Vim Consortium, and the Ernst being involved and a Watcher observing her every action. Needless to say she didn't sleep well the night before.

Sibyl sighed as she kept her hands in her pocket. She sent out avian familiars, magical constructs that would look like regular passenger pigeons, with notes attached to them to find the folks who were with her before in the raid and to the Cadian woman along with Tallow, she has a feeling she might need both Seras and a doctor. Sibyl decided to focus on the drug trade first as she suspects that it was tied with everything. The detective arranged the meeting point to be in one of the city squares.

Sibyl sat on the ledge of a fountain that was on the center of the square. three storey buildings surround her and made the walls of the square. Each buildings had large openings to allow people to enter and leave. From above she saw people in balconies doing their usual routines as she waited for her group to assemble.

[Britanania]

Venusta

After she returned from the detective's office Venusta filled out her report for the day to her superior's and readied to retire for the evening. The young inquisitor shed her garments and took a warm bath before she said her litany of nightly prayers.

Venusta woke early and prepared herself for the day. She selected for her outfit today a black turtleneck that clung tight to her small waist and a black-and-white polka dot skirt with a houndstooth jacket that similarly highlighted Venusta's slim figure. After the blonde beauty finished putting on her makeup--a simple job of black eyeliner and eyeshadow with red lipstick--she finished her routine off by selecting black heels and a black beret.

Venusta went down to the hotel lobby with the half-elf receptionist informed her that a note arrived for her. She read it quickly, not surprised to see that it came from Sibyl asking her to meet. Venusta burned the letter and made her way towards the square where the detective awaited her.

The inquisitor caught sight of the plump half-elf sitting by a fountain and waved to hail her.

[True Refuge]

Everton Tallow

A pigeon construct slamming into his bedroom window with instructions to go to one of Lumina's many city squares had been quite the interruption of Everton's morning. He found it a pleasant surprise, since it meant Blackstone knew her operational secrecy. A lesser detective might had sent telegrams and risked someone at the post office getting curious. He'd had to use a quick runic sequence to wipe its memory of his home address before releasing it though. The pattern wasn't a relaxing experience for the creature exactly, but he'd put his privacy above the comfort of some artificial drone. The bird didn't have to worry about old rivals.

Getting to the square was a short walk through the Luminian morning bustle. The adventure involved the usual dodging around reckless carriages and rickshaws. He'd left Blackstone's letter in one of his secure drawers, the one with the lock-carvings appropriate to written evidence of the letter's sort, lying with a photographed copy of the contract with the detective's signature created not long after he'd left her office. The original had been sent off to his contact with the Ernst, sure to be cycled through a dozen recipients before it ended up in the hands of the Ernst security executive. It may not have been the most efficient delivery method, but the distance it put between him and Lapis Ernst couldn't be ignored. Everton never objected to it. Most avoided direct dealings with Lapis. Everton was no exception. The man's talent for recalling the most obscure of details about a business partner or any apparatus of the Ernst family's portfolio unnerved him. Blackstone should be thankful Lapis preferred minimal contact with third-party employees such as herself.

Today's chosen suit was nearly indistinguishable from yesterday's outfit in its fashionably standard grays and blacks. His knife came too, resting on his person as it had during the meeting with Blackstone. Blackstone might easily recognize him in a crowd. She'd probably find it difficult not to. He'd given her a spectacular fright the night before. He'd expected a slight hitch of breath, but no, she'd frozen up like Death itself stood in front of her. Even the average Albian who was alive during the war didn't react like that It could be that she knew too much, or maybe she'd been one of those many children who idolized the heroes in the papers and in adulthood regretted the knowledge of what Alba had done to the Tauricans on that peninsula their curiosity had presented as a reward. Someone that apprehensive was susceptible to a case of unintentionally loose lips, and there was much better left unsaid in their agreement.

He entered the square and paused by its edge with a flat expression and a scanning eye. A paperboy was shouting and thrusting headlines in the air. It took a few seconds to locate the half-elf detective and her fountain-side perch, along with the woman who signaled her not long after his arrival. The latter was made up and dressed in attention-drawing finery, a standard appearance for the cultured Luminian middle-class inhabitants enjoying the freedom given to them by the city's wealth. Nothing surprising on the surface there.

After that initial look, he purchased a newspaper, found a seat among the square's morning liveliness on a wooden bench close to the meeting place and watched nonchalantly, as if drifting between the city's attractions. He'd approach soon, after he had a quick assessment of this newcomer. She looked extraordinarily composed for someone navigating the stresses of Lumina's busy streets. There could be something behind that. He glanced over the square once again, and waited.

[Naval Monte]

Lumina- Sibyl Blackstone
City Square

Sibyl look around at the crowd as she had a bag of hard candy next to her, taking a piece of the sweet treats and plopping them in her mouth as she scan the people around her for anyone she would recognize.

The elf saw paper boys shouting about the local news while waving rolled up newspaper in the air, some getting a few middle classes gentlemen and dames to pay them a few cents of dinar to buy a roll of paper. She saw groups of women in long, frilly, dressed walking in groups as they gossip about events in their lives. She saw men either walking with their partners or with business partners or were alone.

Most simply used the path to create a shirt cut to whatever destination they have in mind while others lingered around like the merchants with stalls that they can either move in their own or with assistants. She saw a few people were playing musical instruments, dancing, telling stories and performing other entertaining acts in exchange for money, their hard work being reward by those feeling generous to support them and to motivate them to keep going.

When Sibyl looked around again her eyes fell upon on a woman who she would admit was beautiful, yet was familiar to her. The more she looked at her the more the blond hair, fair skin, blue eyes, and beauty fitting for a woman in the classical Tales the more she was reminded of her lost recent client before Dornan and Everton came to her for their own cases. The fact that the woman waved at her just solidified what Sibyl was thinking.

The half elf smiled and waved back. When Venusta approach her the half elf would say. "Good morning. I take it you rested well? I'm glad you arrive on time. I was worried you might get lost in this city. Happened to me a few times when I first moved in." She told Venusta. She grab the bag and pat the spit where the bag was on to let Venusta to sit down.

Once she the half elf would bring the bag close and offer her a piece of candy if she wants, bringing it away regardless if she agrees to get a piece of not. "I can't say much on how I came to this hunch but I believe I know of a good plus d to start our investigation." Sibyl whispered. The half of had prepared a spell beforehand that combined phantasm and wind magic to distort the sound produced by the two so even if someone overheard them their words would sound too muffled to make out anything clearly.

"How familiar are you with the Vim Consortium?" The detective told her as she reached into the bag for another piece of candy and placed it in her mouth. When Venusta would inevitably ask if she suspect that one of them is connected the half elf woukd mi e her candy to her right inner cheek to speak. "I can't say much on it but I believe one of them might have some connection to your drug trade." When asked which one she is going to target first Sibyl would calmly state. "Ashwood and Orlozz Consortium." She said as she resume in sucking on the candy in her mouth.

[Britanania]

Venusta

Venusta took note of the detective as she made her way over to the fountain. They were in a fairly well-populated place, filled with passersby and tall buildings.

She must want to avoid any unwanted attention. It would be hard for someone to eavesdrop on us, the Iron Valkyrie thought as she reached Sibyl's location. Venusta also noticed Sibyl was dressed more casually, as she wore a white blouse with a grey skirt with dark leggings and matched with black boots and a shawl around her shoulders. When she offered Venusta a piece of candy, the Cadian politely refused.

No wonder she has that spare tyre around her stomach, Venusta thought as her eyes lingered over Sibyl's midsection for a moment before she listened to the half-elf's narrative.

"Si, I have heard of this corporation," she told Sibyl with a nod. "They have an office near Cadia, I believe. If you are going after them, surely you have connexions to get close, non?

[Naval Monte]

Sibyl Blackstone

Sibyl was silent as loud crunches can be heard coming from her mouth. When she moved the broken pieces of the candy in her mouth to let them be dissolved by her saliva the half elf looked at the Cadian. "A woman in my occupation field it pays to have connections to the higher classes in this city." She told her.

The half elf would begin to crush the remaining pieces into smaller bits as she ground them to be close to a powder before swallowing. "I must confess I'm somewhat hesitant on targeting a Consortium as they are they second power that rules over this city and  they aren't merciful to those who interfere with their operations." She told the woman as she took out another piece if candy but held it on her fingers.

"While I don't think the Queen of Lumina is as ruthless as some CEOs within the Consortium she most likely won't like us snooping around in her private affairs. Which is why we need to be careful when investigating her." She smiled. "But we are in luck. Ashwood is throwing a party in her suite. We can use that to sneak into her home and find any clues within." She look down at her piece if candy.

"But I would need to find a new dress though. I don't think it would work well in the fancy party Ashwood would throw." She said as she plop the piece into her mouth, letting a pleased moan be heard even if she kept her mouth closed as her smile grew and she closed her eyes to savor the taste. The half elf would swing her legs forward and backwards as she open her eyes, moving the candy to the side of her mouth.

“I don't think I need to worry too much on you lacking any good dresses for her party huh?” she look to the crowd, looking for anyone else that would arrive. “I would need to go shopping once this meeting is done. Maybe I should buy one for my daughter as Ashwood is willing to allow guests to bring their kids sense she always as hers on her side. So both the queen and princess would be attending.” Sibyl saw Everton from the crowd but pretend to have not noticed, her eyes only lingering on his face for a few seconds before turning away to ci tune her search for the others.

[True Refuge]

Everton Tallow

Today's news stories were the usual attention-grabbing, large-font blocks of text blabbering on about petty crime, politics, and the finances of Luminian industry. Everton had never known the Lumina Reporter to be anything else. He'd thumbed the pages all the way to the finance section while he waited for Blackstone and her acquaintance to approach each other. Nestled between dreary reports about fluctuations in the stock of the Vim Consortium members on page ten, there was a piece by some no-name blaring "Ernst Refinery Struggling, Kept Afloat by Family Funds. Investors Wonder Why." A quick skim the two paragraphs of text beneath it revealed barely anything else. The investigative powers of the award-winners at the Reporter must have matched those of the police, then.

The two's initial words were a mystery to him. Probably small talk or basic case details, Everton thought. Nothing too important, or Blackstone wouldn't be talking through bits of whatever it was she was eating. The city square's noise would have been manageable, but there was a spell over them like the one in the walls of Blackstone Agencies. Now, there were others who could do just a little handwork or perhaps trace a pattern on some homemade artifact and listen in as if the magic wasn't even there. Few realized how little time it took for the protections to fall behind ardent students of the Runic Disciplines, or how lucky they were that the runesmiths capable of such feats were far past having any interest in the conversation of others.

He noted that Blackstone took a glance at him, a look over the paper's obstruction. There'd been a hitch in her observation of the crowd when she found him, just the tiniest reflexive mental jolt. The other woman likely hadn't even noticed it, being that she was busy focusing on the detective's figure. Blackstone did an admirable job of hiding the reaction. When she went back to her acquaintance, Everton laid the paper down on the bench. There wasn't much more he could learn by watching with that spell in placed. If the glance was a cue, he'd take it. He stood up, straightened his coat, and navigated his way through the busyness to the fountain at the center of the square.

"Miss Blackstone," he said crisply as he approached, offering a stiff nod to Blackstone. "Thank you for your early letter. I hope your associates are well-chosen as this meeting place."

[Naval Monte]

Sibyl Blackstone

When Everton got close to the sound muffling field Sibyl felt the field being disturbed and knew someone was close. Looking at Everton she wasn't surprised that he came over after she spotted him. When was standing in front of them the detective smiled. "Good morning Mr. Tallow, as for my associates I believe they are capable for the case I'm in." She look to Venusta. "This is Everton Tallow. He is an associate who is hereto help me with our current predicament." She told Venusta.

The half elf hated to lie to the women but she couldn't reveal the true reason for why Everton was here without her being sure he wouldn't mind her telling the truth, something she doubt he would like at all. "You remember the woman and her assistant from yesterday in my house? They will be joining us soon." She turn to face Everton. “The woman is a doctor and a good one as she help save the lives of some officers during a raid on a warehouse used to produced drugs for Ionian.”

[Britanania]

Venusta

Venusta heard of the so-called "Queen of Lumina." From what Venusta had been told by her superiors, Alexandra Ashwood was a brilliant businesswoman and inventor who seemingly came from nowhere to build one of the most powerful corporations in the world.

She also enjoys the lifestyle of a queen, Venusta mentally noted when thinking about what she heard about the glamorous and successful mogul. She gave the detective a nod regarding dresses.

"Si, I have one that might work," Venusta told Sibyl while she privately assumed needed a dress in a larger size than the last time she attended a soiree.

It was then that another one of Sibyl's associates arrived. Venusta gave the newcomer a slight bow and introduced herself.

"Buongiorno," she told him in Low Cadian. "I am Venusta."

[Prusselanden]

Jonah
Jonah had climbed onto a rooftop to collect his thoughts, before a pigeon-like messenger creature flitted above him. He knew not to talk to strangers but again, his mental state wasn't the best right now. And so Jonah foolishly decided to find out what message it was bringing.

Hm. It was from the lady from earlier, it seemed. Sybil...was it? The detective they had helped. There was a location attached to it as well. Jonah got up and leapt off the roof onto another one, parkouring his way to the meeting spot.

"Hello everyone." Jonah landing swiftly where all the other members were. He turned to Sybil. "May I ask why you called me, Ms. Blackstone?"

In his partaking of his new adventure, the boy had forgotten about his doctor. However, he was not concerned.

Jules probably recieved the message two. She'll come and we'll be reunited in no time.

Jules
Jules had also encountered the messenger sprite. However, when she read what it had to say, she waved it aside. "I'm very sorry but I have urgent business to attend to. As soon as I get it done, I will come to Ms. Blackstone."

The doctor then strode briskly down the street in hopes of locating Jonah before sundown. She picked up one of the instruments he had touched recently and did a long deep sniff on it.

She then circled around the area to see if anything could serve as an olfactory lead to him.

[True Refuge]

Everton Tallow

So Blackstone could keep her mouth shut when it was important, Everton thought as she introduced him. Him, an associate, of all things. Just another acquaintance, helping out. A decent enough story. Another test passed. Blackstone was proving her knowledge of the basics fast enough.

Everton regarded the new woman and her greetings with a slight frown and taut expression, and made the slightest turn to face her. She showed no visible reaction to the name, not that she should have. If her looks were truthful, she wouldn't have the experience to know enough to see it as anything but a name. He watched sternly. The assessments could have been completed far more timely if they were in the workshop. It had everything for that. Its previous owner had left machines to gauge magical ability, emotions, lies, everything needed to determine these people's trustworthiness. Yet, he could only bring the trustworthy to them, nor bring the contraptions out. Some would say that made those tools useless. He supposed he had to agree. He hadn't touched them in at least fifteen years. No doubt they still worked though. Even the hardcore Luddites would have trouble breaking that equipment.

To think of it, he hadn't gone back there in a while. The last few weeks had flown past in a gale of negligence, ignoring the place which had offered little but quiet and forbidden sights in recent times. He'd have to check on the place soon. Doing so wasn't quite necessary by the agreements that attached him to it, but it wouldn't do for it to go without a guest for much longer.

"A pleasure," he replied in clipped High Cadian with a mere drop of Albian influence, matching the hints of Venusta's own accent. He looked back to Blackstone. "Are there any more of your associates joining us?" he asked in his native Alban, just in time for a dark-skinned young boy to land in the middle of the group. Everton scanned him as he had Venusta.

"Interesting choice, Miss Blackstone. What will he be helping us with?"

[Naval Monte]

Sibyl Blackstone

Sibyl smiled as she thought that Venusta would help her out with getting a new dress. "So what color should my dress be? I thought maybe going with the same color as my usually clothing but I figure brighter colors might work more." Sibyl said as she began to crunch and chew on the pieces of her candy before swallowing the pieces that weren't dissolved by her salvia.

When Everton finally arrived the detective fought back an urges to show fear in front of the man. She knew that showing fear in his presence would make Venusta ask questions on why she was reacting that way to the man and it would lead down to an uncomfortable situation where she would be caught between telling the truth or maintaining her client's confidentiality. Which in this occasion the lost of the latter may result in her not only losing a large sum of money but suffering the ire of a old family and a powerful war mage, the fact she would put both her and her daughters lives and future in jeopardy only served to make her more nervous.

Yet it was those same nerves that made her keep a surprisingly calm expression. When he spoke High Cadian the detective wasn't surprised that the old family made him speak in that languages, she also took courses to learn how to speak it when she was younger and still in school. But right now it seems that while he hasn't fully approved of the Cadian woman he didn't disapprove, she was off on a good start. She soon saw Jonah and while she gave the boy a pleasant smile she did have one thing in her mind. "Where is the doctor?"

Sibyl would turn her attention to Everton. "I have one more who helped me in a raid and one who is a doctor." she turn her attention to Jonah. "Good morning Jonah, how is your day? Tell me, where is the doctor you were with?" she asked as she tilt her head slightly as she gave him a curious look. She also offered the boy a piece of candy if he wants one. Regardless of his choice Sibyl would pull the bag back so she can get another piece for herself.

As the group heard a gnome shouted through a megaphone on infusions that he was selling for anyone willing to buy the detective looked up to see a squadron of small aeroplanes flying be, from the distance she saw airships floating above the city. The detective briefly recalled the time she first arrived into the city. She arrived by an airship and while she was in them before in her life back when she lived with her parents she still loved to see the world from high above, knowing how birds and the ancient dragons felt when they flew in the heavens and look down upon the world. She still remember the time she first lay her eyes on the city and how grand it look from below.

[Menschenfleisch]

If I were to break a thousand loaves of bread, would the world be a better place? Perhaps that bread would not assist in unity at all - for humans have a quota of hatred, just as they have a quota of love. If they are within a group they will find reasons to reject and lambaste those outside. Some men and women want more to hate, some want less. So, therefore, there are people who gravitate toward groups that offer up easy hatreds to them such as Neo-Nazis and white supremacists. Similarly, people gravitate toward groups that give them love such as communities, and friendship groups. Enemies are as important to human function and natural behaviour as any other contemporary relationship. So, breaking bread can't be the answer. What about removing scarcity? Giving and giving, until there were nothing left to want? Well, in that case, there would be people who'd desire their superiority. In a worldly utopia, there would still be those who would deny that others should be equals to them. They'd climb atop each other on infinite spires of wealth and prestige, creating an anarchic scramble for some illusory 'vantage point' above all else. What I'm saying is that conflict and negativity are inherently necessary for survival and even beneficial, depending on how much they are given or - in most cases - forced to weather. So, you see humans creating mental catharsis through fictionalised violence and brutality. Nobody would watch Captain America without any flaws, without any enemies, without any need for the underdog that he represents. Think on that while you read this story of a girl and her god. Think about what conflict she represents and symbolises. I hope that I've inspired at least a spark of thought in you, despite how pretentious this all sounds. These fucking title cards lmao what a bunch of memes: they're simultaneously the highest effort and lowest effort parts of my posts. Go read an erotic fic on Archive of our Own if you want good prose. Is this too long? Am I trying to one up myself too much? Probably. Hey, seriously, stop reading. I don't want you to think less of me as a result of this thing's length. Like, it's seriously bad. It's not even good for an ironic read. I actually have o idea what I'm writing this for. Is it to delay my actual post? Am I just doing this so I don't have to read through all the IC shit that I missed? Hey, quickly, let's list all my characters in order of combat capability given 7 days' preparation. Avarice > Valerian > Jacquelyn > Kyle > Polly > Marcus > Cassia > Ana Asakku

The tea was sublime. Well, she thought it was, anyway. Ana didn't really know what tea was supposed to be like, so she just imagined that this was the best tea in the whole world. It was a little too hot and so she blew on it a little, clasping its sides with her fingers and doing her best to avoid spilling any on her lap. It wouldn't do to look foolish here, in front of so many people, after all. And what was Sibyl taking so long to do? Surely, the door didn't need her attention that much. It felt like days went by before the woman suddenly turned around and allowed those at the threshold to step through, taking hours upon hours to open their mouths again and continue their conversation. She wasn't alarmed. This was just another meta episode, after all. It'd pass, and soon she'd be back to being that silly little girl with all her dreams of peace and love.

"So, having a nice time?"

She laid down her cup, and crossed her legs. "I'm kind of off duty here. I don't really need to keep up the 'Ana' act while nothing's going on, you know? Besides, it's not as if anyone can react to this. It'd be a bit late, considering how much time's passed since the little tea break scene." her face twisted and morphed, jaw and cheeks cracking loudly as she reconfigured herself into a more... familiar character? No, more like... notable. Jacquelyn sat there, flicking little bits of light between her fingers. "Look, all these characters, they're pretty much just figments of someone's mind, scrawled on a page. Avarice? She's the author's dissonance. Innocence, despite depravity. Perfectly heroic ideals, despite her past. Valerian is dedication, nobility and blindness. Jacquelyn is the smart one, but also the one who chooses to suffer due to her inability to take anything seriously. Kyle is attentive but short sighted, and ultimately too obsessive to be his own person. Marcus is neurotic and thrives off of others' emotions, leeching from their efforts. Polly is self-deprecating yet prideful; both to harmful points. Cassia is the everybody, the sort of whimsical idea that the author tries to embody. Because they're always anonymous, no matter where they go. They want people to imagine them as being anybody; any race, any gender, any kind of personality."

He tapped the table with his thumb, drawing a sliver of wood out. Devana, wreathed in blue ribbons, regarded the sun and found its light wanting in realism. "Maybe that's all characters are. Fragments of a psyche, banished to the page, so that the author has a way to confront their demons and ideals without needing a physical arena. They're certainly carthatic. Whether that's good or bad, I don't have the authority or the knowledge to say. I don't think anybody does. And maybe, that's the beauty of it. We all have our own villains; some more cliche than others. We all have our own heroes, and we all have our own desires. In the end, we all lead our own stories."

He smiled, and began to shift back. "That's my cue. I need to be Asakku again. While we still have some time, I just wanted to say... I hope that your story has a happy ending." she tipped her head, smile drooping for just a moment. "Cheers; and that's all for now."

The people around her were quite eccentric. The man and the woman at the door, asking Sibyl all sorts of questions. The daughter, Morgaine, being tended to by the nice doctor. Although some would've called the place dhingy, even despondent, she thought of it almost as this unearthly paradise. Every moment of peace that she found in this strange and inelegant world was like a diamond in the sand to her. Perfectly formed moments, encased in an aura of bliss. Her tea really did taste incredible now, and she didn't need to lie to herself to believe it. The commissioner (or in her mind, the hulk) asked for her presence and she bounced off her chair, making for the office. Sibyl's little recluse was filled with stacks of paperwork and glass phials, all sorts of relics speaking of a glory long gone. Badges, gems, relinquished articles of evidence... she marvelled at the daring of the woman in the page, the self-assured allure of the picture in the papers. And then, when she looked back at the ageing detective, she wondered if they were the same person at all.

Age had changed her, and Ana couldn't help but feel the slightest disappointment, though it was quickly quashed by a surge of guilt. How could she judge her for settling down? For having a child, and choosing to allow others into her life? No detective like the one in the news would allow anyone to come back to her house, and sleep in her bed. Nobody who lived that kind of dangerous lifestyle could afford to share tea, and speak with a soft tongue. She wondered if she'd be like her too, some day. Soft, fermenting and happy in her slow decline in prestige. The strangest melancholy overtook her, tingeing the world in a hue of blue she couldn't quite name. And then, before any questions had been asked and any statements had been made, the meeting was over. She was there, standing in front of a case of trophies, fingers half laid upon a little bronze lapel, the faded words 'detective Blackstone' clinging to its uncleaned, hole-riddled surface. And next to it was a polished little slip of paper, preserved in lacquered glass. "Mommy", and a drawing of Sibyl in crayon.

Everton.

Click, thump. Door latch, closed. Her vision narrowed, her breathing sharpened. This was an otherly creature, a man to whom the label human couldn't be applied without losing the essence of his existence. He was a hunter, and a proud one at that. The sort of pride that lingers within a soul, and never punctures the skin. The kind of silent, insidious swagger that no physical eyes could spot. There were hundreds of these people throughout the city. She'd seen enough of the world to know the archetypes, the categories that people tended to fulfil. And this, was not one that she wanted straying too close to her friend. She stood up to confront him and then-

...

"Morning."

Apples. Oh, yes. She'd been buying apples. How could she have forgotten? Her imagination must've lingered a little too long on last night. After all, she'd never have dared to speak to Everton in Sibyl's home. She was, after all, a quiet and shy girl. No, no. She'd sat there with a grin on her face, and a little too much tea in her belly. She'd passed the time by reading, practising the skill which Inoia had drilled into her head. Of all the things he'd done, that was one of the few that she could truly enjoy. She handed the toothless standkeeper a handful of coppers. They joined the parcels at the bottom of her basket, onion and butter kept inside white linens. Somewhere distant a man stumbled through the street, bellowing that he'd been stolen from. This was a nicer part of town, where people took thievery more seriously. It also happened to be a part of town which some people invested a little too much of their identity into. It was a part of town where some people didn't particularly like seeing 'grubby loafin' urchins' and their 'plague infested, kleptomaniacal 'ands' near their stock. Though, as she turned away, she wondered. Was she right to have stolen from the man? After all, despite his mindset, he couldn't be blamed for having it. His parents probably instilled the bias within him from birth. Besides, he might've been under incredible stress. Maybe his children were hungry, or his mother was sick. Who was she to make that decision?

But who gives a flying fuck about moral ambiguity in stories? Let's just follow our unconditionally morally correct protagonist as she commits heinous crimes and acts of murder, while the narrator makes them out to be the hero of the story. What a great fucking idea! Why don't we throw in a love triangle for a lark? Spoiler alert: the edgy one dies!

She quite literally slid between Sibyl and Everton, a half eaten onion in one hand. "Hi, Sib! Sorry to have held you up. Hey, we're going to be part of an investigation today, right? Just tell me where I need to be. I'll meet you there!"

[Naval Monte]

Sibyl Blackstone

Sibyl look down at "Sera". "No you didn't. Right now we're waiting for one more person to arrive so I can tell everyone what we are going to do today." she told the girl as she look at the onion. "You know I don't think I've seen many people who eat whole onions raw like that. Than again you wouldn't care much for what the food is so long as it is edible." being reminded of Sera's poor status the detective realize that if Sera was going to join them they would need to make sure she did not look like a street urchin for the party.

Sibyl turn to Vensuta. "You don't mind if you help out both me and Sera for our mission right? I need all of us to blend in perfectly so the guests and host don't suspect a thing." The detective was aware that Sera was skilled in sneaking in and out of places unnoticed but she felt that for this mission blending in on plain sight would be better, besides she most likely can use the crowd to hide behind and pickpocket people without being caught.

Yet the absence of Jules did puzzle the witch as she figure the woman would keep Jonah by her side at all times like most mentors are to their apprentices.

[Prusselanden]

Blighttown
"The doctor? I think she'll be here soon enough." Jonah glanced at the candy, but out of politeness didn't take it. "If she recieved your message, it might take a few minutes. How urgent do you need her? To be honest....I sort of left her alone. Wasn't feeling too well, so I needed to go somewhere to think. I don't know where she is right now."

The presence of Everton, although unsettling Sybil, didn't make him uncomfortable at all, and he simply acknowledged the man with an undiscerning look. For the other guests, he decided to be more polite and greeted them with smiles and small bows of the head.

Jules
"Where are you going, my pretty?"

Jules whirled around as she heard a voice ring out behind her, only to see Konrad looking down at her from his perch on a beam.

"Who are you?" She felt something strange about the man and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She decided he was concerning but the best thing she could do was continue her way. Jules turned around to leave when she found Konrad in front of her, staring her down.

"What-" The doctor leapt back. "What are you!?"

"You looking for someone?" Konrad smiled at her. "You want help?"

"You're...you're a vampire." Unconsciously, Jules prepared for a fight with this stranger. "Get out of the way or get hurt."

"Relax Wolfie, I'm struggling to hold myself back like you are." Konrad took a few steps back. "I don't want to fight. You need to find the kid? I'd be happy to assist."

"What do you want in return? I'm not doing any favors for you."

"Just happy to help." He gave her a toothy grin. "Let's find the boy now, shall we?"

[Britanania]

Venusta

When the newcomer--Sibyl introduced him as Everton Tallow--replied in High Cadian Venusta gave him a slight nod, somewhat unsurprised although she did find his clipped Alban accent somewhat amusing. She gathered he came from money or was at least highly educated to be versed in her native tongue. Venusta for her part removed her pipe from her handbag and lit it before she took a few puffs. She gave Sibyl a look over when she asked about dresses.

"Si, I think nero will work for you," she said after a long puff. "It has a, how you say, slimming effect, no?"

In any event, more of Sibyl's companions began to arrive, and so the inquisitor waited to see what the detective had to tell them all.

[Naval Monte]

Sibyl Blackstone

Sibyl frown. "Well I found a possible source for Ionian's drugs and I want everyone here so I can explain the plan but I think you can tell her the plan once you return back to her." Sibyl told him. After she crunch down and swallow another piece of candy she spoke.

"I have both a hunch and an informant that claim that one if the Vim Consortium are not only giving Ionian his drugs but they are shipping the drugs out of the city. One if the Vim Consortium suspected is Ashwood and Orlozz Consortium." She was silent to let the group react to the news. "I want to investigate that company and the woman who made it first."

She look up to see the wooden pixel blocks of a kinotrope being used for a billboard change to display an advertising for one if the new devices to appear in the markets, the radio. Symbol would see that at the bottom right corner was a symbol. The main body was a triangular shape with the head and neck of a serpent rising up, the snake having a stylized eye. Above the snake was a circle with a square in the middle with within it being a diamond with lines criss crossing it, creating numerous triangles and diamonds within the square.

“Ashwood is throwing a party in her penthouse suite and this will give us the perfect time go sneak in and to fund evidence in her own home." She look back at the group. “We are to blend in so as to not draw too much suspicion on ourselves and not to be kicked by the guards for looming too much like commoners. With our disguises not only can we roam the penthouse freely but we might get a few people will to talk with us, especially if they had too much alcohol to drink during the party.”

When Venusta spoke about helping Sibyl with the dress the detective was both happy and confused. “Thank you for wanting to help me. But can you tell me what you mean by nero?” the confused Albian half elf said, having a few hiccups due to the language barrier between the two.

[True Refuge]

Everton Tallow

So far, Blackstone's associates appeared as if she had drawn randomly from the slums of Blighttown and the bright mansions of New Lumina. Venusta was normal enough, at least on first impressions. But, of all options, Blackstone had brought a young boy and an only slightly older girl to the case. The latter had interrupted a conversation without any sort of care. His questioning stare, moving from person to person as the others talked, wasn't for Venusta and the other doctor yet to arrive—sensible choices if a bit young themselves—but the children very much out of place among the adults. Especially the boy. He was overly polite where the girl's had been uncouth. Could even half this group make ten dinars playing the beggars’ games or compliment and then extort a noble in the same breath? At least they hadn't spent time fawning over the runes on his hands or his pendant like the climbers at every gala at which he'd played the role of a bodyguard.

Everton’s expression hardened slightly and his hands clasped tighter behind his back. By his initial assessment, he’d have to watch his own back if the investigation turned violent. Doctors and children, Blackstone’s choice of accompaniment for a merry trip into the depths of Grand Family and corporate politics. A disappointing first impression considering Blackstone’s reputation regarding her contacts and networks. And she said some of them fought in a raid on a drug operation warehouse? Picturing that took some imagination. Next to the Ernsts’ hardliners and the various specialist forces in Adra, there wasn’t much competition here. He’d have to wait and watch to make sure. As it stood, his opinion seemed solidly founded.

The conversations continued beside him. More hellos and acknowledgements, mostly. The infiltration Blackstone had planned for them gave him pause. That a detective who had the police commissioner himself come to her office leaped so quickly to subterfuge tempted him to prompt a little public inquiry into her tactics among the group. Some of these people might balk entertaingly at her familarity with such moves. Yet, he let Venusta reply with some vapid subtopic regarding dress choices for the party. The temptation faded as quickly as it came. Better to focus on the next step, and the issues that it posed.

While Blackstone's description went on, he stepped around 'Sera' and her obstruction to stand behind the detective, leaving his next introductions unsaid. He leaned down slightly to whisper into Blackstone`s ear. His voice turned low and maintained a control enough to ensure that his words remained little more than meaningless sounds even for the girl right next to them. "Ashwood may recognize a rival's agent. I assume you are taking precautions?"

[Prusselanden]

The Group
"A party? This sounds like it's going to be some cliche heist story." Jonah wasnt worried about all the alcohol or sneaking in, however. In fact, he was a bit excited for an adventure. Who knows? If many members of the upper class would be there, maybe he would even see his parents again. It was a silly thought, but he missed them so much he wanted it to believe in it.

Oh right, he needed a suit. Jonah looked down at his own work clothes.

"So the rest of us will get something to wear, right?"

[Naval Monte]

Sibyl Blackstone

Sibyl didn't know what Everton was thinking as he judged their company but she was worry that he would find them lacking for the mission and decide that she may not be fit for the case. Sibyl knew that compared to her usual contacts her current party was rather... unorthodox. But right now she had a feeling to go with this group composition.

As she thought on how best to use her ragtag team she would be so deep in her thoughts that when Everton whispered into her the half elf was startled somewhat. She only responded with wide eyes and a quick turn to face his direction. "Oh yes. She might recognize you. Your runes aren't doing you favors when it comes to being subtle." she commented.

"I have a mask in my home that when you put it own casts a phantasmal illusion over you to make your body look like someone else. The best property of the mask is that detecting the arcane energy of it is borderline impossible so long as you wear the mask and don't do anything to disrupt the illusion." she looked at his runes and pendant. "You will have to hide those behind arcane nullification items. We can find or make gloves with those properties and a container for your pendants." she told Everton.

The mask was something she got from a past case when a thief found the mask and used it to rob several banks in the city. Sibyl was able to catch the thief and she confiscated the mask and locked it up for safe keeping. Commissioner Dornan was aware of Sibyl possessing the mask and he allowed her to keep it as he felt that the mask was in safer hands in her possession than locked in a police vault. Dornan had his suspicious that certain officers were not as clean as him and Arthur and if the mask was in their vault those tainted lawmen would use the masks for their own selfish pleasure.

Right now though I need the mask to find any clues that might link Ashwood to the drug trade and refinery theft." she thought as she knew that what she was planning was the very thing she tried to prevent the mask from being used for but right now this case was serious, she had to bend the rules slightly for the greater good. When Jonah mention that their next mission was like a heist story Sibyl laughed. "I suppose it is like that. But we are after evidence of illegal activities; any dinar, jewels, and other valuables within Ashwood's penthouse should be ignored unless it relates to the case."

When he asked that they need to wear something else for the party she nodded. "I don't think Ashwood wants people coming in looking as though they crawled out of Blighttown regardless of whatever charitable works she has done for that part of town." the detective told him. She almost wanted to be proved wrong because of the fact that she uses her money and inventions to improve people's lives, yet at the same time Ashwood being a byproduct of the new families, those who have gain the wealth and prestige that the old families have held onto for years due to their own hard work and ingenuity is something that would make her want to get rid of them, especially if she felt that the Ernst would try to weaken her company to try and show other mages their "place" in the world.

Sibyl looked at Venusta. "Sense you are our fashionista you take us to the perfect place to find us some new clothing to help us blend in with the upper class." she told the Cadian. She almost felt tempted to speak in low Cadian but decided not to because she feared she might say the wrong things if she tried, she still was learning some things with Low Cadian.

[Menschenfleisch]

Ana Asakku yeah that's right it's a normal intro for once

Ana stuffed onion's brutalised remains into her mouth, spurting a noxious irritant from between her jaws. Frankly, she was amazed that nobody had asked her where she'd gotten the onion to begin with. It wasn't as if she had any money on her, after all. Though, despite her childish demeanour and youth, she was startlingly self aware. "Sib, don't you think it might be a little problematic for me to just walk in there?" she tapped the side of her head, parting the skin and revealing a series of cracks, before they sealed themselves again with a dull click. "I'm not exactly good at blending in. Even if all of the guests, and Ashwood herself, are perfectly fine with an entity such as myself attending, the magical wards and automated defences within her manor might lash out at me. More importantly, we'd attract a lot of attention; we'd have no chance of having a private word."

'Sera' was still dressed in mostly hard-wearing clothes, sewn to be durable and fireproof. "If you manage to find a disguise for me, that could work. Though, I'm still unfamiliar with the practises of nobility. You might be able to get away with it my saying that I'm a naive girl, but, I think everyone here's a bit too conspicuous to lie about some secret child." she cracked her head a little too hard, her neck twisting like a coiled rope for a moment. A satisfied sigh followed, along with a calm gaze that could split rocks. "I'd much prefer to sneak in, if you didn't mind."