Arathnos rolled his eyes as Jeremiah cast his spell. "Oh, you're going to be a big hit, I can already tell."
Jeremiah's Spell
Gain Skill: 8 dice, 6 successes. Lacking a page reference to Gain Skill, I'm going to assume it functions like the Mind 3 Augment Mind (MtA 210), capping at your dots in Mind, so you gain 3 dots in Socialize for the scene.
Quote:
Originally Posted by magic_gathering2001
"Excuse me, but would this happen to be a tour of some sort? I've heard of the beauty of the Cormant House, but this will be my first visit. I must say, I'm surprised by both the tour and its attendence however. Most do not take such an interest in such things, and for those who do, the pleasure is more personal in general. However, I would not say no to an instruction of the finer points of this house. The name is Prometheus; my mother was a classics scholar with an odd sense of humor. And you are?"
Prometheus' Spell
*First Impressions: 5 dice, 1 success.
"I'm afraid we're hosting a private event at the moment, sir," Arathnos testily spits, "So I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow."
Arathnos catches himself, and seems to remember something. "Unless you're the Prometheus that Anacoana invited. Did a Haitian woman send you?"
Quote:
Originally Posted by magic_gathering2001
I think some sort of check might be needed to fool Arathnos, or to convey the fact that he is actually a mage in the last section.
OOC
It will be Manipulation+Subterfuge to fool him into thinking you aren't a mage (and thus not invited to the dinner) if that's what you'd like to do. It will take a -3 penalty, because he knows your Shadow Name, and you just introduced yourself by it. Or is there something else Prometheus wants to do?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Annalist
With a resigned shrug, he murmured to the empty air, "Here we go. Moment of truth."
The door to the dining room swung open, salloon style, and a bearded man in a cooking apron walked in holding a caserole dish with two oven mitts. He set the caserole dish down on a hot pad in the middle of the large, dining room table, removed the oven mitts, and pointed a small white remote at an iPod and speakers set up in the corner, which began playing a Jimmy Buffett Song.. He then extended his hand in greeting.
"It's good to finally meet you," he grumbled through decades of cigarette smoke. "I'm the Nemean. And you two must be Gabriel and Thorn. Your mentors have a lot of good things to say about you two."
The Nemean looked less like a learned sage and leader among the Wise, and more like an aging biker holding a tailgate party at Sturgis. Standing well over six feet tall, heavily muscled and with a large gut, The Nemean was physically imposing to say the least, and the apron did very little to soften that impression.
OOC
The Nemean addressed Gabriel and Thorn because they're in the front; I'm guessing that Jeremiah and Prometheus are in the antechamber, and that Levanna is walking with Gabriel and Thorn, but I don't want to make any unwarranted assumptions.
Last edited by Hella_Tellah; 20th November 2008 at 12:10 AM..
"I'm afraid we're hosting a private event at the moment, sir," Arathnos testily spits, "So I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow."
Arathnos catches himself, and seems to remember something. "Unless you're the Prometheus that Anacoana invited. Did a Haitian woman send you?"
OOC:The scene played out in the way I wanted, so there's no need for any sort of check.
picture
"I take it you are Arathnos then, Anacoana said you would see me in. But who are these to be invited as well? I was not informed that this would be a group gathering... In any case I am here now, but next time let me know of such pertinent details beforehand." As Arathnos opens the door, he continues, whispering lowly, so as not to be heard by those inside, "How does one behave around the Nemean?"
OOC:This should go immediately after the part just quoted, and replace the rest of the sentence...
"I beg your pardon, that was poorly phrased. I should better watch my tongue in such high company. I meant no reflection upon yourself with those words, which should have been directed at the one who sent me here."
Thorn gives the Nemean an appraising look, then grins. Something about the burly man reminds her favorably of the older NCO's from when she lived on base. Men who had enough power and enough confidence that they honestly felt no need to prove it. Remembering Chango's advice, she kept in mind that just because she liked him so far didn't mean he wasn't dangerous, or that he was nice. Just worthy of respect.
She bobs her head. "Thorn," this time the shadow name rolls easily off of her tongue, making her wonder if and when she's start -thinking- of herself by that name. "Good to meet you. Hell, good to meet everyone," Except maybe Ninja. "I feel kinda like I've been in a cave, away from what's really going on."
The Nemean struck Mitchell as being both intimidating and strangely disarming at the same time. Maybe it was his apron and oven mitts, but for being the Hierarch of the whole Consilium, he seemed rather mundane. Certainly not the stereotypical majestic presence that he was half-expecting. Of course it might all just be a clever affectation that he used on new guests. If so, time would tell.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Hella_Tellah
He then extended his hand in greeting.
Mitchell automatically reached out and found his own hand engulfed by The Nemean's paw. He made sure that he kept his grip firm, but it was readily apparent that the other man's physical strength was prodigious. Definitely not a guy to get into a tussle with, he thought.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Hella_Tellah
"It's good to finally meet you,"
The young Obrimos nearly guffawed at that, but fought hard to keep a straight face. After what Melchior had told him about his semi-antagonistic relationship with the Hierarch, he had assumed that the man would be just as content to crush his hand as he would to shake it.
"Nice to meet you too, sir," Mitchell hastily replied, thankful that The Nemean seemed to be in a good mood. Okay, now make a good impression. Say something profound.
"I beg your pardon, that was poorly phrased. I should better watch my tongue in such high company. I meant no reflection upon yourself with those words, which should have been directed at the one who sent me here."
"Giving orders to Aracoana would earn you a lot worse than anything I could do to you. I may be the Consilium's Herald, but she's the top goddam Sentinel," Arathnos laughed. "She would f*cking eat you!"
Quote:
Originally Posted by Annalist
"Uhh, I like veal."
"You damn well better!" the Nemean chuckled, and clapped Gabriel on the shoulder. Turning to Thorn, he said, "We keep people out of the loop during their apprenticeships for good reason. Once you get an idea of what's really going on around here, you'll probably wish you were living in a cave. Hell, I wish I was livin' in a cave, and I'm supposed to be in charge around here!" He gave a knowing wink.
"You kids have a seat, and I'll grab the rest of the grub." Hollering over his shoulder as he turned back to the kitchen area, he said, "Hope everyone's good with veal, baked ziti and salad!"
The dining room had most of the major features of a Victorian mansion--china cabinet, velvet-seated chairs, and a polished gold chandelier--but the plates, silverware, and centerpiece were more practical and basic. The kitchen was separated from the dining room by a breakfast bar, so the Nemean remained in partial view as he pulled warm plates with veal cutlets from the oven. It was the sort of dining room one might rent out for a meeting of the Daughters of the Confederacy, and had clearly been converted from a place people lived in and ate in daily to its current, commercial use.
OOC
Apparently, this is a family board, and Arathnos' language is a bit salty for the filters
Last edited by Hella_Tellah; 20th November 2008 at 12:50 AM..
"Giving orders to Aracoana would earn you a lot worse than anything I could do to you. I may be the Consilium's Herald, but she's the top goddam Sentinel," Arathnos laughed. "She would f*ckingeat you!"
"It seems as though everyone I've gotten in over my head then, no?" With these final words, Prometheus finally enters the room. Unfortunately, the Nemean chooses that moment to bow out of the room, ridding him of any chance of introduction for now. Deciding to let the other diners sit first, he asks, "So, I do not believe I ever had the pleasure of your names?"
Lingering near the back of the crowd, Sandra found it easy to hide a smirk behind her hand and a sideways glance. The whole exchange reaffirmed her choice of Orders. She felt less bad about disappointing her mentor.
"Levanna," she says simply, offering no more than that except for a smile for the room.
Arathnos rolled his eyes as Jeremiah cast his spell. "Oh, you're going to be a big hit, I can already tell."
Jeremiah's Spell
Gain Skill: 8 dice, 6 successes. Lacking a page reference to Gain Skill, I'm going to assume it functions like the Mind 3 Augment Mind (MtA 210), capping at your dots in Mind, so you gain 3 dots in Socialize for the scene.
OOC
Gain Skill is from Free Council 111, and limits the skill dots gained to a combined of total of 5, including the dots you already have; the Mind 4 version has no limits on the dots.
Incidentally, I have Mind 2, not Mind 3.
Opening his eyes, Jeremiah smiles at Aranthnos. "You know who I am. I'm not exactly a contender in a popularity contest. Until next time, Aranthnos." He turns and follows the path to the dining room.
That could have probably gone better. The Nemean is probably going to ask us to do something for him... and judging by the number of people and the way Fate is intersecting, it looks like we might be working together for some time. A new Cabal ordained by the Heirarch? Not unprecedented, but... is that veal I smell?
Entering the room and taking an empty chair, he introduces himself. "I am Jeremiah, as some of you already know," nodding at each of the mages arranged around the table in turn. "Gabriel, Thorn," reserving a reproving look for the Ninja nickname, "Prometheus, Levanna." Jeremiah pauses for a moment, looking around. "Where is the Heirarch?"
__________________ I hate to interrupt, but I believe we're being followed. The Mimes on the street corner. No, don't look. ~ Mycroft, Broken Diamond
Proud supporter of Dreamscarred Press and Untapped Potential, New Horizons in Psionics. Get it now! It's the best 5 dollars you'll ever spend.
"Right back here," replied The Nemean, pushing open the saloon-style door to the kitchen with his back and carrying a large salad bowl.
"We'll get down to brass tacks and business after supper," he continued, placing plates in front of each of the new mages. "Meanwhile, why don't we all introduce ourselves, get to know one another?"
Sitting down, the Nemean continued speaking as he unfolded a napkin in his lap and began serving himself from the casserole dish full of baked pasta in the center of the table. "As I said before, I'm called 'The Nemean', and I'm the Hierarch for the Boston Consilium. That means it's my responsibility to keep all the Awakened around here from killing each other, and when people have disputes, they tend to come to me." He passed the casserole dish off to his right, to Thorn. "Careful with that now, it's pretty hot."
The Nemean took on a serious tone, looking over his tinted glasses as he spoke. "I've been Awakened since the '60s, so I've seen plenty in my day. I don't like bullsh*t, I don't like drama, and I don't like tattletales. The less I hear my phone ring and your name gets mentioned, the happier we'll all be."
He laughed. "But you'll probably hear enough about me by and by anyway. Tell me about yourselves."
Last edited by Hella_Tellah; 20th November 2008 at 11:33 PM..
"Very good to meet you Nemean. As for myself, I am recently Prometheus. I awakened, as you call it, several years ago, but this conference will mark my first meeting with mages other than my late mentor. As such, I hope you all will pardon any unfamiliarity with such events. And, as you say, I hope for extremely infrequent need to call upon the one who prevents mages from killing eachother."
Sitting to The Nemean's immediate left and directly across from Thorn, Mitchell kept silent and still, allowing some of the other guests to speak first. He had already done enough damage to his own dignity with his earlier 'zeal for veal' incident. So his current plan was to shut up and listen; it seemed like a sensible enough course of action. And anyway, he needed time to figure out what he was going to say when it came around to his turn to introduce himself.
Hi, I'm Gabriel and I'm a mana-holic. It's been exactly one month since my last vulgar spell, but I've been Paradox-free since. I enjoy moonlit walks on the beach and candlelight dinners--with veal of course. And I'm a Pisces.
In reality, he was a Cancer. But that was besides the point. The real question was: how much should he reveal about himself? For all intents and purposes, these people were complete strangers, including The Nemean. And right now the Hierarch was their sole point of commonality. It was like he was trapped in an ultra-surreal casting episode of MTV's The Real World.
This is the true story... of five mages... picked to live in a house... work together and have their lives taped... to find out what happens... when mages stop being polite... and start getting real.
Hoping to go unnoticed, Mitchell decided to go with Plan B. But that would require keeping his mouth stuffed with food so that he wouldn't have to talk. And right now the casserole dish was still being passed around on the opposite side of the table. C'mon, hurry people!
Thorn helps herself to the casserole dish's contents, spooning out a hearty helping before passing it on. She glances around at everyone, then shrugs; a bit self-conscious, but determined to stick it out.
She wriggled out of her jacket and draped it over the back of her chair. Her shirt was dark grey with a sunburst picture on it in yellow, sleeveless. Around her right bicep, close to the shoulder, was some kind of tribal type tattoo.
"You guys can call me Thorn. Not much to say, I guess. I give back what I get. If you're cool with me, I'll be cool with you. I'm pretty new to this stuff, but I'm giving it my all and I'm doing pretty good." She trailed off for a moment and finally shrugged again.
As the Nemean walks into the dining room with a bowl of salad, Jeremiah starts slightly.
This was not the first time he had seen that face.
Jeremiah is certain that it wasn't the same person, and is dead certain that the other person isn't the Heirarch. For starters, the other one didn't look like he was stuffed into a tweed jacket a little too small for him, snapped and growled back at other people, nor did he have the general air of a baited bear. Well, that's one more thing I won't be mentioning out loud.
Scooping out some pasta and passing the casserole dish along, Jeremiah starts eating. "The name is Jeremiah. I Awakened about a year ago, to the Watchtower of the Iron Gauntlet, and have been initiated into the methods of the Guardians of the Veil," he smiles pleasantly as he spears a piece of veal for his plate. "I believe that is all. Gabriel, you look like you want to say something."
__________________ I hate to interrupt, but I believe we're being followed. The Mimes on the street corner. No, don't look. ~ Mycroft, Broken Diamond
Proud supporter of Dreamscarred Press and Untapped Potential, New Horizons in Psionics. Get it now! It's the best 5 dollars you'll ever spend.
Mitchell slunk down in his velvet-cushioned chair by just an inch, wishing that he could disappear, and shot Jeremiah a baleful glare through squinted eyes. You just had to single me out didn't you? Clearing his throat, he sat back up and responded nonchalantly, "Oh no, I'm all good here. Just waiting for the veal." He subtly stressed the last word hoping to convey his growing impatience.
But it was now time to deflect. A quick verbal riposte would do. "Guardians of the Veil you say? How incredibly fascinating. I know so little about them. Please, tell us more."
Two can play at this game, he smirked.
__________________ ●
Last edited by Annalist; 22nd November 2008 at 01:05 PM..
Reason: Formatting.
Replying calmly, "The name is secret police, as I'm sure you already know." Jeremiah pauses to chew his veal. "There isn't any need to pussyfoot around the open truth. Any more would be a secret, however. I'm sure you understand: I don't expect your name to actually be Gabriel."
"But enough unpleasant accusations. What of you? I'm sure you can tell me a little; I know nothing about you, and I've already said so much."
__________________ I hate to interrupt, but I believe we're being followed. The Mimes on the street corner. No, don't look. ~ Mycroft, Broken Diamond
Proud supporter of Dreamscarred Press and Untapped Potential, New Horizons in Psionics. Get it now! It's the best 5 dollars you'll ever spend.
"The name is secret police, as I'm sure you already know." Jeremiah pauses to chew his veal. "There isn't any need to pussyfoot around the open truth. Any more would be a secret, however. I'm sure you understand: I don't expect your name to actually be Gabriel."
picture
"An interesting organization, that. You say its secret police, but prance about openly as a member? Quite an interesting organization. That being said, I think Gabriel may already be familiar to the Nemean, which would exempt from telling about himself, from their greetings earlier and his reluctance to do so now." he pauses with a look over to at the Nemean for a confirmation.
"...I think Gabriel may already be familiar to the Nemean, which would exempt from telling about himself, from their greetings earlier and his reluctance to do so now." he pauses with a look over to at the Nemean for a confirmation.
"Right you are, Prometheus," the Nemean responded. "Gabriel is already a member of the Consilium, and in good standing. His mentor and I may not always have agreed on everything, but Melchior knows how important a strong community can be for a mage. Gabriel is also a member of my Order, the Silver Ladder."
The Nemean turned his attention to the quiet young woman at the far end of the table. "Levanna, is it? They tell me you're a Free Council associate. How is that suiting you?"
"It suits me quite well actually. I've always been the oddball of the group. You know, the one that didn't want to follow the crowd. The Free Council just seemed like a logical choice to me, though I know Mercurio disapproved." Levanna said as she took the casserole bowl and scooped a generous portion onto her plate before passing it on. Poking at it with a fork, she continued "They keep trying to get me to put my rotes on my cell phone or a computer. The problem is that those cost money. I usually have to ask: 'With what money?' That usually gets them to leave me alone about it for a couple of weeks."
Levanna cast subtle looks at Gabriel and Jeremiah, trying to see what they were doing with the momentary break in their verbal jabbing that she was providing for them. Were they sizing each other up? Avoiding eye contact?
"I dunno. I've been a mage for longer than I realized. My mentor certainly provided a helping boost in my learning, but I like working things out for myself. The Free Council lets me do that, encourages that. Works for me." she shrugged to deflect any misunderstanding or percieved passive aggression. She didn't want to sound arrogant.
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