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[SS] Hazy Silhouette

+4
Sir Alexander Beathen
Erin Lightheart
Albrekka Starbright
Tougane Masaru
8 posters

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Post  Albrekka Starbright Sat Dec 03, 2016 10:39 pm

"Hmm."  She had not fully considered that possibility, that this police officer was some ploy by some outside force, but then... "Wouldn't that mean that either this rumor is true or a ploy to deal with truth seekers?  It may very well be bait we should spring to uncover the truth of the event, either way."  It was not as if they had any other leads, save this supposed girl Erin and Birdway had run into.  "I think the only way such a search wouldn't pay off is if the person in question doesn't exist at all.  Which is certainly a possibility, but it isn't like we know that truth either way.  And if this person, or group, exists, perhaps we can meet with them on our own terms?"

It was certainly risky.  If the story of a policeman who knew the secrets of the events were true, then it would be in any truth-seeker's best interests to look for him.  If it was a ploy in which someone would deal with the truth-seeker, then it was possibly to reverse such a trap and gather intel.  But with so little to go on, it would be hard to find an angle in which to reverse such a trap.  That was, essentially, the crux of that strategy.

"On this policeman's character...I haven't heard of anything other than he has intel.  Certainly a mystery..."  She would leave it at that.  For the time being, it seemed that... "Save this risky possibility, this girl you mentioned might be of interest.  If we could locate her, of course.  But she could just be a regular citizen, we don't know."
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Tue Dec 06, 2016 9:11 pm

With the two girls diving quite deep into the matter, there was no place for Leivinia Birdway to move her lips beyond forming an even more intrigued smile than before. But in fact, this entire situation had become the most intriguing she could have imagined. Welcoming this, she’d remain the shadow in the back.

«Good good? So you’re planning to go after Paul Oldturf and that mysterious woman next? Quite some large goals, if I dare say. Good good.»

Showcasing a mixture of both praise and scorn the girl finally made a different move from exchanging the positions of her legs by actually pushing her body forwards to slide slowly, until her feet would touch the carpet. A gesture to announce the closure of today’s session.

«So nothing would speak against leaving the rest up for the next day to come? After all, the night is still young and the commotion is unlikely to end before its death. A bit of rest might actually do us all good. Not to ignore the need for preparation. What do you say?»

Strangely enough her words were filled with an odd air of politeness and care as her eyes wandered across their faces. Obviously, though, there was a hidden intention behind it all.

Then again, her next move made the rhetorical nature of her suggestion quite clear.

«Now, where is my personal quarters?»

She asked with the arrogance of a tyrant princess, secretly implying that her superiorness would not allow her to spend the night in the same room as the lower people they were. The typical her.

Or maybe there had been an overall different intention hidden somewhere in that.
Leivinia Birdway
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Post  Erin Lightheart Sat Dec 10, 2016 4:03 am

Mr. Morrison had only given her this one room, so Erin realized what this all meant. She made sure to gather her things upon being asked, and gestured around the room in response to Birdway's question.

"This guest room is what I was given. You may use it as your own if you wish. However, i'll assume that you would prefer to have it to yourself, so i'll be on my way. I'm used to sleeping in the cold anyway, so a night outside won't be a problem."

As she was far from being the average person, she had no idea that talking about sleeping outside in the cold so casually would be seen as odd.

"As far as Oldturf goes, I suspect he's not going to be helpful on his own. I'll spend the night thinking about how to get what we want out of him without raising his suspicion or anyone else's. However, if it looks like that will be more trouble than it's worth, then we'll go after the woman instead. Anyway, have a good night."

With that, she was on her way outside, leaving Birdway and Albrekka to their own devices.
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Sat Dec 17, 2016 6:38 pm

Between the lines 1


At long last he had arrived there.

Having spent the entire night slipping through any loophole there was in his orders he had gone everywhere to gather the many splinters spread all over the small town, he now found himself before the gate to success.

The gate to justice.

The lights were out, he had confirmed from the outside. Nobody seemed to be home as well. The night was deep. With the commotion far away from this place, there was no noise to be heard. No sound at all.

Quickly he dug tiny pieces of metal into the lock, twisting, turning.

Click.

It was open.

The gate was more of a door. Not even a sturdy one, even though it should have been according to public regulations. It belonged to a house containing a small number of apartments after all.

Once the door was unlocked, he’d push it open, replacing the tools he’d just held in his hands by his thick sturdy flashlight, not yet daring enough to grab hold of the metallic apparatus stuck in his pants.

He walked forwards, entering the unknown.

The corridor was dark. So dark, even the light brought in by the streetlights would only fight its way a few metres in, before finally giving in to the eternal black. All lights were out. Not only the hallway’s but even the ones marking emergency exits, like the one he had used as his entry point. He left it that way, solely relying on the cone of light he himself held command over.

The surroundings were so peaceful, it was terrifying.

It felt as if someone was watching him, but that likely was only a natural reaction caused by his imagination.

He wandered through the hallway, towards the first door he found. The first one he confirmed belonged to an apartment.

Strider. The name on the door sign.

Quickly he sunk his hands into his pockets to ready the tools all over again. However the moment he accidentally touched the door knob, he realised it could turn. So he tried. The door hadn’t been locked. It opened.

A bit surprised, a bit nervous, he quickly reassembled his posture, once again taking hold of the flashlight.

He entered the flat.

Even here there was no light. Everything that could have cast light seemed to be unplugged or maybe the fuses had been switched off. He felt uncomfortable thinking about that. Especially once that cone had wandered across the room, revealing the many traces of life. There was a collection of women’s shoes orderly positioned by the doorway. There was a fridge decorated with various notes. There was a fruits basket, filled with anything ranging from apples to oranges.

Someone was in fact living there.

He had known and he now had confirmed.

Yet he couldn’t shake off the details making this place seem so dead.

He wandered past the kitchen and living room, to seek out the single bedroom. It was tidy, the bed freshly arranged with care. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The entire room was that way. Everything had been in order, everything had been arranged with perfect care. The person living there might be someone with a bunch of complexes or just someone who enjoys a clean habitat.

He checked on everything, but nothing out of place anywhere in sight.

Next was the bathroom.

He could feel his body shake. Sweat was pouring from every pore. His feet felt heavy. Something told him to stop moving forwards. He could still go back.

Everything up until now had been completely normal. There was no noise. No strange encounter. No disturbing piece somehow embedded into the scenery. It had just been what it was. What to expect. And that was exactly what he hadn’t expected. Something had to have been out of place about this building, about this apartment. But besides the lack of power there was nothing at all. He was forcing himself to sneak while well aware that his steps were causing noticeable noises all the time. The light of his flashlight shouldn’t have gone unnoticed either. Yet none of those had triggered anything.

But now there was this last room he hadn’t inspected. This room – he knew – had to contain something to shake up his world.

His eyes me the door handle. His hand slowly travelled towards it.



He pushed, he pulled, he peeked.

— He had finally made it.

Paul Oldturf has spent the entire night gathering information. He had crossed the entirety of Whitby many times until deep into the night. This hadn’t been his first night doing so, but with every day his dedication had grown. He had researched, sought, not given in and up. Going on and on and on and on and disobeying his orders, he had done all in his might. And he had indeed found something.

A strange phenomenon had occurred in a neighbourhood far from the rest of those that were thrown in commotion. A few days ago, maybe a week, an apartment had fallen completely silent, then the entire building bit by bit. Nobody had properly noticed. It was just word that spread in the neighbourhood, but was overshadowed once the murders happened.

Nobody had bothered to investigate, since silence wasn’t that much of an unusual thing.

If it doesn’t reek of death or an ever growing pile of mail is on top of the mailbox people don’t really bother checking. After all there was nothing all too strange about that.

However, to him it had felt fishy from the beginning on.

He had questioned many people involved. Asking for disappearances, he found out that one person living there had filed in reports of illness and another a request for vacation at their work place. Two of the inhabitants didn’t even have a proper job to begin with.
Strangely enough this went for the entirety of the building’s inhabitants. Each of them had left everything the way no attention would be attracted in case they would disappear.

There were five flats in the small building. One was occupied by the land lord, the rest by a varying degree. A man in his 40s, one in his 60s, a young couple in their 20s and a female student living off a their parent’s support.

They had all disappeared for what seemed to be logical reasons.

It still felt strange.

And he was right about to lift the secret. Paul Oldturf would finally make it. Justice would come after he’d uncover it. He would be the first to. He would be the hero.



The bathroom was small. He guessed this was a general commonality between all cheap affordable apartments. It only held enough space for a toilet, a sink and a bathtub with curtain. Completely in the category of the ordinary, there wasn’t a single striking feature about it.

However the curtain was closed.

However there was a strange smell.

However it felt as if he had arrived at the core of it all.

This time he grabbed it. Not because he needed a means of defence, but because holding onto it alone gave him a hint of safety. Holding the flashlight with one hand and the gun with the other, he proceeded towards the bathtub.

Bringing forth all bravery there was in him he pushed aside the curtain and revealed what shouldn’t have been revealed.

«…no…how…no…»

At loss of words he nearly sank into his knees when focussing the cone of light on his discovery.

Like a dried out fruit there lay a human being somehow cramped into the way too small tub. Colour had left their flesh. Everything had just been grey, dead, dry. The body was like an empty husk that had been robbed of all else. What once had been a bit cute bookworm type of girl was now just that. There no beauty. No spark. Nothing left. It all had been lost. It all had been sucked out.

He had seen the first victim. The second. Yet none had been in this bad a condition.

«What monster…would…»

He could feel tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

The amount of cruelty was devastating.

For a moment his mind was no longer allowing him to move on.

But then he knelt forwards to continue his work. There was no way he could help this girl any longer. She had already fallen victim, but like that she may hold the possibility to help him understand. To help him find a way to move on.

Putting the weapon aside he’d scan the entirety of her body. Centimetre for centimetre, seeking any trace. She must have been killed somehow. Somehow every last drop of blood must have been sucked from her body. There must have been a logical explanation. Fairy tales, rumours, Paul Oldturf didn’t believe in any of those. He had researched methods of sucking blood from a human’s body. He had sought out symptoms, devices, everything. He only needed the trace to confirm any of what he had come across. But there was neither blood in that bathtub, nor anywhere on the victim’s body. There was nothing. Absolutely no trace. No scars. No cuts. Nothing.

Besides.

Two tiny holes by her neck.

Large enough only to allow for teeth to be sunk into them those holes were throning on the part between neck and shoulder, easily uncover able by moving aside the neck of her blouse.

That was all there had been.

Two holes.

«They must have been using two pumps or something…or maybe one and just placed the second hole to make it more authentic…but where to get pumps this strong…hell, how long does it even take to suck someone that dry…who comes up with something like that…maybe there are traces of equipment I have overlooked…maybe I should check the other apartments…aw bloody…»



A sensation.

A touch.

A soft, yet cold hand touching his jaw, his chin.

Not a violent grab, but a soft one, as if caressing.

His entire existence shuddered once he realised.

A fearful shout escaped his lips. His heart nearly stopped as his eyes widened.

When?

How?

What?

Who?

What on earth?

Do something. Do something! Do bloody something!!!! BLOODY HELL!!!!!


His limbs wouldn’t react.

All power had already left them.

And then he felt a sharp pain, accompanied by a soft sensation.

Something dug into his neck and something was touching it as if a kiss of lips.

«…that can’t be…you can’t mean…»

Bringing forth all strength he had left, he tilted his head to the side, if only a tiny bit, forcing his eyes to take that final peek.

That peek at the one behind everything.

At last he had made it.

Before anyone else’s Paul Oldturf’s eyes would glance at the culprit.

That very last thing they would ever glance at.
Leivinia Birdway
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Sun Dec 18, 2016 3:40 pm

Chapter II


Fangs wandering to one another’s throats
Blood Red Haze.


February 13th, 5:47

The night was coming to an end. In its late hours, or maybe the early hours of the next morning, the commotion had finally died down at the knights’ struggling arms. They had fought the entire night. Not an enemy of flesh and blood, but the intangible monstrosity that was panic. In the end, though, that fight had paid of; even though they now would feel the reward that was exhaustion slowly creeping up to them, not only through their limbs but their spirit.

However, the end of the storm did not mark the end of their struggle.

Rest had not yet been granted to them.

Once the situation had calmed, a messenger had arrived, delivering a simple letter. It didn’t contain many words, but the impetus was still strong.

⟪To Henry Moore. Please come to the Church of St. Mary. Do so immediately⟫

That was all it said.

The Church of St. Mary was not an unfamiliar name to the unit that had come to Whitby. Actually it was a name most of the visitors held at least a hint of respect towards, was it a certain group’s current makeshift headquarters.

The Anglican Church’s Necessarius had quickly claimed the place for themselves. Located at the far end of the town, close to the shore, it was surrounded by green planes and only a few other antique buildings, like the Whitby Abbey — another famous landmark. However while the Church of St. Mary was actually a place that was still running, the Abbey was as dead as the graveyard surrounding the church. To some it may have occurred that said Abbey would make a way better secret headquarters, but in fact it seemed the church’s forces had still settled to pick the other place over that one. Likely for reasons of comfort.

On their way, the knights would pass through a forest of gravestones, before finally setting foot into the insides.

Intuition alone would lead them into the church’s mass-hall, was there no one else to take them by the hand.

A dimly lit room, not all too fancy and simplistic, maybe a bit old fashioned. It felt cold. The smell of incense strongly present. However that was all that was ordinary about it. The extraordinary was strong, due to the presence of paper. Not simple sheets or books, but stashes spread all over the entire room. Stashes were placed here and there with not a single hint of order. Occasionally there were also folders or even books strewn about, but the major presence was in fact paper. Paper covered in scriptures. Some written by hand, some by type writers, none touched by printers.

All in all it was an odd sight.

And amid that dimly lit paper flooded hall there sat a single person before the altar. Not kneeling to pray, but cross-legged. It was man clad in a priest’s clothes, wearing a colourful handwoven poncho and military hat with goggles. His chaotic black bangs and unshaved face left a bit of a scruffy impression, making him feel even more out of place than anything else in the room. He was sitting there, a piece of paper in one hand, a hamburger in the other.

«Mmmmh. Welcome. Mmmh. This beef is quite good actually. Mmmmh. Not as good as the stuff you’d find overseas, though. Mmmmmmmh. Not really unexpected, though. Mmmmmmmmh.»

Occupied with the tastes of his fat-seeping sandwich, the sole man in this room perfectly well matched his looks by rewarding his guests with a rather unsatisfying presentation of hospitality.

«Mmmmmmmmh. I take it you know why I invited you? Mmmm?»

That man was Richmond Longroad, current commander in chief over the Necessarius unit deployed to Whitby.

He was one of the people opting to clear this incident once and for all.

And right now there was only guessing as to where the terms between their two factions stood.


Last edited by Leivinia Birdway on Tue Jun 27, 2017 4:38 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Post  Albrekka Starbright Mon Dec 19, 2016 10:55 pm

Nothing.

Once Erin had left to take her leave, Albrekka took some time to find her, in the off-chance of offering her hotel room for the night; sadly, she had vanished before she could reach her, considering she felt obligated to tell Erin's guest, Birdway, of her intentions. The night was still young and there was the possibility of finding out more details on this Paul character. Perhaps he could be found.

But no trace of him existed. The library which was suggested to be where to meet him, there was no sign of him. Without any leads Albrekka relied only on walking the streets in the hopes of hearing or seeing anything. Nothing but shadows and the occasional magician that she thankfully didn't have to deal with; though, with her sleeping schedule, that would be something of a problem in the near future.

With the night fading, she decided to check in on Leivinia and Erin. Perhaps Erin woke up and returned to the building? Though, when she returned there was no sign of her. Where exactly did she go, and was she okay? With the night ending, she wasn't sure if she could stay up long enough to locate her...but, it did seem that a certain someone was awake.

"I see you're up and about. Wanted to check up on you and Erin but seems she hasn't returned yet..." She would look about. "Heard any word from Mark? I'm sure he's worried about you." She wasn't really sure what to talk about with Leivinia. Certainly an odd soul...
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Tue Dec 20, 2016 1:58 pm

«I see you're up and about.  Wanted to check up on you and Erin but seems she hasn't returned yet…»

Early at half past five in the morning, Leivinia Birdway was having tea.

Like a proper lady she had seated herself at a small table with only a single chair offered by the luxurious victorian housing of Erin Lightheart’s current employer, in front of her rested a cup, saucer and teapot – all of rather elegant embroidered design.

«I doubt, the Fool will return anytime soon. She’s likely digging about somewhere in the night’s shadows. You’ll probably have the luck of seeing her again by sunset.»

As usual Birdway was talking in a rather eccentric way, matching the idea of the young English maiden enjoying herself at a cup of early morning tea.

«Heard any word from Mark?  I'm sure he's worried about you.»

«He’ll be fine. They can keep themselves quite low profile, even without me. For now I have no use for them so they probably just drew back while keeping alive the net we have spun around town. At least till the dawn of the new day they won’t make any further moves to find me.»

The word «use» held a strong meaning in her reply. She flung it around as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Actually it was, at least to her, considering the entirety of the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight existed solely for her own use. Ready to sacrifice themselves at her command the entire cabal would only strife towards the single goal a single girl could realise.

«I’m surprised you care so much about that man. But that’s likely only you still being stuck in the mindset of helping him search me? Or maybe just because you felt a little sorry for his desperate attempt at finding me. That poor idiot always manages to attract the pity of young women like that, doesn’t he?»

Taking a delightful sip after those taunting words, the girl placed the cup back on the saucer.
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Post  Vita Vesta Caesar Wed Dec 21, 2016 11:00 am

Moore had expected nothing less of Necessarius' representative. That group's sole defining trait was the way they lacked one. Each and every one of their members was far too unique, rendering any attempt at viewing them in a uniform fashion fruitless. So the unimpressive welcome was met with nothing more than a deep-set frown.

The letter he had sent calling for them had given no indication of the sender's identity, but it had been written so that such a thing would be irrelevant. It was common knowledge even amongst the many foreign cabals which group had taken up residence in the Church of St. Mary, so it went without saying that the Knights—Necessarius' allies—knew as well.

"I believe I do, yes. However. Assuming that you are indeed the sender of invitation, I would request that you give the reasons for your desire to meet with me in your own words."

Longroad had termed it as an invitation, and Moore had played along, but the message had been anything but. It was clearly a summons. Those with the authority to do such a thing could only be those who were ranked his superior, and Longroad was not. As they were both leaders of their own faction's squad, they were more or less equals. Normally, the summons would be ignored, with a messenger sent instead with some excuse for his inability to go, along with a thinly veiled reprimand.

But given the events from the previous day, he could not act so rashly. He would entertain their request, if only to see the stance of Necessarius in reaction to what had happened. But that did not mean that he would meekly obey. No matter how delicate the situation, the fact remained that Necessarius did not have the authority to summon him. In truth, it was not even a matter a rank; the Knights and Necessarius had wholly separate chains of command.

The knights that followed behind him were his answer to that. They had ordered the arrival of Henry Moore, the individual, like a teacher sending a child to the principal's office. But he had arrived as Henry Moore, commander of the Knight forces stationed in Whitby, answering Necessarius' request for an audience. This was more than just a political statement. It was an indirect way of telling Longroad that he had no reason to listen to his words, whatever it is that he was to say.
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Fri Dec 23, 2016 9:56 am

[SS] Hazy Silhouette - Page 4 Ck33tw5t
«I believe I do, yes. However. Assuming that you are indeed the sender of invitation, I would request that you give the reasons for your desire to meet with me in your own words.»

After Moore’s words and body language made his stance rather clear, the only thing Longroad did was take another bite from his burger, chew a bit and savour the flavour. Then however he put it aside.

«Mmmmmm. Where do I start? Giving someone a summary of a neutral view point on an event they have been part of usually is a bit rough. That’s why writing news paper articles in some situations is a bit difficult. You need to write it in such a way that everyone is content over the completely objective representation of the events.»

Sinking his hand into one of his pants’ pockets, the man still remained seated right where he had been seated, while still keeping the situation’s seriousness at bay.

«A man died. And your actions were what led to it.»

Placing a sole headline as a summary before the two guests, the poncho priest uniform Magician removed a single item from his pockets. It was a tiny thing, hardly to be made out in the darkness of the room. However it glittered a bit upon reflecting the light from the windows and sparse spread candles.

A marble made from crystal.

«A man rather important to resolving this incident and returning peace back to this small town that otherwise would have never become the scene of such horror, to be precise.»

That’s where he left it hang.
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Post  Albrekka Starbright Mon Dec 26, 2016 8:27 am

«I doubt, the Fool will return anytime soon. She’s likely digging about somewhere in the night’s shadows. You’ll probably have the luck of seeing her again by sunset.»

She would nod, finding a place to sit.  

«He’ll be fine. They can keep themselves quite low profile, even without me. For now I have no use for them so they probably just drew back while keeping alive the net we have spun around town. At least till the dawn of the new day they won’t make any further moves to find me.  I’m surprised you care so much about that man. But that’s likely only you still being stuck in the mindset of helping him search me? Or maybe just because you felt a little sorry for his desperate attempt at finding me. That poor idiot always manages to attract the pity of young women like that, doesn’t he?»

Well, to her it wasn't so cut and dry.  More general concern considering his employer and it being a waste of time.

"Moreso the opposite, the sooner he realizes its better to focus his attention elsewhere the better, unless that's the kind of role you want him to play here."  Certainly, Birdway was usually not someone to do something so careless.  "Regardless...it seems for now the details regarding this police officer seem to be rather empty.  I ran into a few magicians seeking him out similarly but with no luck either, giving clues different to mine but none of those places really held much weight."  The situation was overall odd; certainly, she had even accepted the fate of being lured into a trap, but no trap even sprung.  Was it some sick joke?

"Of course, nobody likes null findings, but I was wanting Erin and yourself to know about it.  For now, probably not something to look into anymore.  I could look more into it, but it would be...inconvenient."  She would leave it at that.  Of course, she could spend some time looking into it using her own abilities, but the fog had yet to lift from the town.  She could, perhaps, make do using other concepts, but even then it was curious if such time was even spent wisely given the complete lack of leads or data.  Without that, a result would take days...
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Post  Vita Vesta Caesar Wed Dec 28, 2016 9:22 pm

"I see. Very well, that's acceptable."

Moore made no attempt to deny the claim. He recognized the truth of it. His choices were, indisputably, what had led to that man's death. And given that he had been entrusted with delaying the knights, he was most assuredly an integral part of whatever plans Neccessarius had crafted. So far, he could sense no attempts to speak anything other than the simple truth, and he was not so shameless as to attempt to deny that truth.

However, the truth was not why he had meekly accepted Longroad's summons.

"Let's move on to the matter at hand, then. You've established why you've called me here, and I've confirmed it. So that leaves what you wish to be done about it."

Dancing circles around topics made him sick. It was simply his nature to take the most straightforward path. Though he had learned, pounded into himself the ability to do otherwise, he would still avoid it where possible. After all, unpleasant things were unbearable, and it was foolish to fight an opponent on their home ground. Though, he doubted that something of this level would be enough to make this particular opponent stumble.

"I'll say this much: I have every intention to take responsibility for this incident. But the nature of that responsibility is not something for anyone in this city to decide. I do hope you were aware of that when you called me here."

There was no point in hiding from what had happened. In the first place, Moore had never had any desire nor even a thought of doing anything but face it head on. He hadn't come here to deny the facts. His only intent was to cleanly settle things, so that at the very least, in the present, they would not interfere with this city's original incident. That came before everything else.
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Fri Dec 30, 2016 2:29 pm

«It’s hardly surprising that things are this way right now. After all this is what they want the situation to be like. Or rather what they intended for it to be when they began spinning their webs. Unfortunately, though, their expectations didn’t include outside reactions.»

Birdway was once again talking more than the current context would explain, which she made clear by staying as vague a possible. She probably assumed that Albrekka would understand eventually, or maybe she was just placing a bait here and there to see how the girl would react. Whichever it was, she tried to remain as illusive as possible.

«Of course there’s the option of walking up to the people that rule the game board, but that’d be too risky, wouldn’t you agree?»

That was how things were. If they really would attempt to seek out that police officer the easiest way of finding them would be to approach the people that had set him up the way he was right now. Of course those people’s identity wasn’t that big a secret to one who knew at least a bit about the politics of the Magic Side and the powers ruling the Whitby Incident. So one immediately knew that they’d actually expect people to come their way. Then again they would simply use this as a method of keeping people away. Since everyone knew they knew and expected it. In the end it was just wrapped up by the fact that they were the most dangerous out there.
That was Necessarius the 0th Parish of the Anglican Church for you.

«Now let’s put that pointless talk aside. It’s not like there’s much worth in solving this now anymore anyway.»

«There’s something I have been wondering about a tiny bit. While you seem just like any other of those pointlessly moving fools, you still hold more than that on you, don’t you? You’re not as average as them, aren’t you? Now to confirm that I would love to hear what you have come here to seek? Maybe hearing that will do better entertainment than our previous talk.»


Putting aside her cup after taking another sip, the girl gave the other a devious yet intrigued grin. It wasn't to show them how much she cared about finding out, but to underline the taunt she had yet again spoken out. So far though, she was honest with what she said.
The motivations of others haven’t been all too impressive, with only one exception. Now, would this one mark an addition to that?

⭐︎☆☆⭐︎
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«I don’t think you see, Henry Moore. But thank you for admitting that you will take responsibility for that other thing that happened. Getting an official statement from you makes things a whole lot easier.»

There was something playful mixed in with the otherwise friendly words the man had spoken. It was an odd sensation that would slowly creep up towards Moore, enveloping him while hitting him with the light of realisation.

«I did not call you in to discuss your breach of common sense, since that is something that was already settled. I have taken some means to shield you there, even though it left a bad taste in my superior’s mouths. You see this is a rather good opportunity to worsen the knight’s reputations with the royal family and all that…but for now I’ll show some good will keeping that at bay, like I said.»

What sounded like an act of goodwill was actually chain that was placed around a certain man’s neck. Giving somebody the mercy of defending them and even informing them about said act, was nothing short of a method of blackmail. What Longroad had announced was his superiority over the other man, binding them with the chains that were mercy. A tactic a certain woman would often use, just a bit more graciously.

Still, as he had already said, this wasn’t the point of their meeting.

There was yet worse to come.

«The man I was talking about, is not the man you thought I meant.»

He dropped the marble. The impact of its round crystal body hitting the cold stone floor, echoed through the lifeless hall. Then the sound of it rolling reverberated as it slowly wandered towards the guests.

«Paul Oldturf is the one I meant.»

He revealed.

«He died, even though he shouldn’t have. He died at the hands of the monster, he should have helped bring down. The scene of his death should have been the scene of this catastrophe’s end.»

He underlined.

«What you have done is by far worse than giving the spark to a conflict between our two factions. What your actions have allowed to happen, is for this situation to outgrow anything our hands can grasp. You haven’t just prevented this from ending. You caused this to grow rapidly.»

Richmond Longroad’s eyes met Henry Moore’s.

This was no longer a situation the knight should hold any command over. His actions had led to more than just a thing that could be talked out in words. He had hurt the already fragile thing that were the relations between the Knights and the Church, he had worsened an incident that was already on the verge of becoming a catastrophe and now that weight would all be pushed on him.

However there was someone keeping that weight away. Someone who would very well use this merciful act to create some sort of debt, no matter if the other side was willing to accept it or not.
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Post  Albrekka Starbright Fri Dec 30, 2016 6:38 pm

«It’s hardly surprising that things are this way right now. After all this is what they want the situation to be like. Or rather what they intended for it to be when they began spinning their webs. Unfortunately, though, their expectations didn’t include outside reactions.  Of course there’s the option of walking up to the people that rule the game board, but that’d be too risky, wouldn’t you agree?»

She would nod.  "For now, yes."  After all, she did not want to place anyone in danger, Mark or Erin especially.  Leivinia...who knows what would happen there.  With that, she would motion to give herself a cup and something to drink as well; after all, the night had been long, and it was about time she had some nourishment.

«Now let’s put that pointless talk aside. It’s not like there’s much worth in solving this now anymore anyway.  There’s something I have been wondering about a tiny bit. While you seem just like any other of those pointlessly moving fools, you still hold more than that on you, don’t you? You’re not as average as them, aren’t you? Now to confirm that I would love to hear what you have come here to seek? Maybe hearing that will do better entertainment than our previous talk.»

"Hmm.  What I'm seeking?  Well, it is not very exciting."  With that, she would pour hot water into the cup, over a teabag.  "Well, its the same as many other magicians here; the truth of this event, but also of vampires, along with as many details as I can manage.  Though considering the political and magical pressure here in the city, as well as what is rumored about vampires...one wonders if anyone can do so directly in the first place."  A strange comment.  If so, what was her purpose here, if she had seemingly accepted that she could not see such a thing directly?  "More specifically, as of right now, I'm looking for details on those close to the victims.  Anything else would be a bonus."  She would sit back down with the cup in hand, letting the water cool a bit.  "Though, well, that was my initial plan.  At the same time, now I worry of the stability in this city.  I had expected to find scraps as it is not as if I have backing from any of the cabals or churches who want to take control of matters here, though it seems more like a clash of titans than any sort of investigation.  At least on the surface, anyway.  Hopefully things will not boil over, I would rather not see the townspeople here turned to ash just for personal gain..."  She would pick up the cup, blow on it, and take a drink.

"So yes, not very exciting."  She would shrug at that.  It was certainly true, many magicians coming to the city had more intricate, developed reasons to be in the town, with the backing of their colleagues to seek out whatever desires they had.  Albrekka, however, had only herself, and she only sought something as mundane as the truth of things and to be done with it.
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Sat Dec 31, 2016 1:03 am

«Yeah. Even something overly cliched like trying to fulfil your loved one’s last wish, a desire to slay the overly powerful enemy of your past or a never heard of before attempt of saving someone impossible to save, would have been more entertaining. At least I could have had something to pick on. But this is just plain.»

Giving her retort immediately after the other girl cut her explanation, Birdway didn’t let this chance of showing her overly honest side go to waste.

«If I were you I wouldn’t concern myself too much with the little cold wars going on in this town. Even if things get worse, which will pretty much happen now that these fools have taken a taste of violence, there’s always a plan to get things back into proper order. Or at least keep up the public image. No matter the idiot, none of the powerful factions would wish for the secrecy of Magic to be ruined by just a little incident. At least that is for sure.»

For once she actually reduced the amount of cockiness she was emitting and focussed on things that were actual facts. If one actually took her words and thought a bit about them, they could very well be considered to be of good will. In the least they would serve the purpose of calming a person’s mind, were they the assessment of an expert — even though it was the kind of expert that’d fling around other people’s wellbeing like facts read from a chart.

«On the other hand, people have already died. Even if they try to push the reason on a mysterious serial killer inspired by Stroker’s novels, not everyone will buy it. Not with what has happened in this town. The many occult journalists will smell a conspiracy or something and eventually this will turn into a bigger problem. I guess they will try to erase or alter people’s memories. But what will that lead to? And how exactly will they treat the Magicians that don’t belong to any of the larger groups. I doubt they’d listen to a call from an authority they do not accept.»

She paused.

«Oh well, they’ll probably just slaughter them like they’d usually do. So what gets us sidetracked with worry.»

She’d cast a glance towards the other end of the conversation.

«More importantly: what do you expect? Like, what do you expect when hearing the word ‹vampire›?»
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Post  Albrekka Starbright Sat Dec 31, 2016 6:55 am

«Yeah. Even something overly cliched like trying to fulfil your loved one’s last wish, a desire to slay the overly powerful enemy of your past or a never heard of before attempt of saving someone impossible to save, would have been more entertaining. At least I could have had something to pick on. But this is just plain.»

"Mm."  She would take another drink of the tea she made, affirming Leivinia's comments.  It was rather soothing as it was still warm and the tea was plain enough to enjoy.

«If I were you I wouldn’t concern myself too much with the little cold wars going on in this town. Even if things get worse, which will pretty much happen now that these fools have taken a taste of violence, there’s always a plan to get things back into proper order. Or at least keep up the public image. No matter the idiot, none of the powerful factions would wish for the secrecy of Magic to be ruined by just a little incident. At least that is for sure.  On the other hand, people have already died. Even if they try to push the reason on a mysterious serial killer inspired by Stroker’s novels, not everyone will buy it. Not with what has happened in this town. The many occult journalists will smell a conspiracy or something and eventually this will turn into a bigger problem. I guess they will try to erase or alter people’s memories. But what will that lead to? And how exactly will they treat the Magicians that don’t belong to any of the larger groups. I doubt they’d listen to a call from an authority they do not accept.  Oh well, they’ll probably just slaughter them like they’d usually do. So what gets us sidetracked with worry.  More importantly: what do you expect? Like, what do you expect when hearing the word ‹vampire›?»

Though Leivinia's words seemed to ring true to some extent, it did not seemingly relieve Albrekka of all of her concerns.  After all, it was not just some wide scaled damage she was concerned with.  If anything the damage had already been done to the city, its inhabitants concerned for their well being by powers not even relevant to them.

"Well.  Hopefully things will stabilize."  She would pause, letting Leivinia finish her point on vampires, pausing still to take another drink of the tea she made, her cup almost finished.  "What has been said so far: beings with infinite potential, assuredly desiring to keep annoyances a good distance away from themselves; well, annoyances to them anyway, it is not like a magician can contend with such a being.  Though not much is said after the fact, and it usually gives the impression that they aren't approachable in any sense.  I'm curious about that; what, do they live in a cave somewhere and only come out to feed?  That seems rather dull.  But I haven't heard of any reports of findings to say otherwise.  Well, it also doesn't help that there is seemingly no evidence of their existence to begin with..."  She would swirl the remnants of the tea she had in her cup, looking at it.  The situation was not exactly beneficial to most parties in the first place; just about every magician came to Whitby for the promise of some sort of relevance to vampires, with no evidence to the contrary.
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Post  Vita Vesta Caesar Tue Jan 03, 2017 8:55 am

Though he maintained a stoic appearance, not showing any weakness to the other party, it was only skin thick. Immediately underneath, Moore wore a deep frown and a sharp grimace. He'd been outplayed. If he had been given the opportunity, he would have simply denied Longroad's assistance, but it had already been given. As the magician had said, the matter was already settled.

With that, he owed a debt. Longroad had cemented his position as a benefactor before Moore had even entered the room. He had, doubtlessly, been outdone. From the moment he'd made his mistake, he had already lost all ability to avoid this outcome. These were the consequences of his actions, showing themselves at last.

However. That was something that would be addressed later. Now, he gave a hearty laugh. Not sneering, not conniving. Not angry, and not steeped in despair. It was the kind of ordinary laugh a man in a pub would give to a particularly funny joke. His subordinates stared at him questioning eyes, and Beathen paused as he knelt down to pick up the marble the magician had let fall, but still he laughed.

"I see, so that's what happened. Because I screwed up, one of your schemes went off track."

He had a better understanding of the situation now. He had assumed he had been called here to be blamed for what happened at the station, but that wasn't the case. Inadvertently, he had interfered with Necessarius' carefully laid out plans. So now they wanted to take him, the unstable element, and place him under their control. He didn't know whether they would try and place him far out of the way, or ensure that he did his job properly this time, but either way they would be attempting to reweave their webs and they intended to use him to do it.

That was why he laughed. At the fact that Necessarius' masterful schemes had been laid to waste by the mistakes of a bumbling idiot. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn't find it anything but humorous.

"Tell me, then. In exchange for taking on the burden of my screw up, what do you want?"

No longer disheartened, he struck right to the heart of the matter. He was in a poor spot, but now that he'd found humour in the situation, he couldn't quite manage to stay down in the dumps.

Originally, Moore was a simple man. The kind who would live and die under the command of another. So he wasn't the kind of rebellious soul who would refuse to follow another's orders. Moore had been fully prepared to shoulder the weight of his mistake, but that had lifted from his frame. So though it was blackmail in every way, he didn't object to following the orders of that magician, or at least didn't balk at the idea of doing so.

After all, in exchange for this, he would not have to bear the burden of his mistake. In exchange for this, there was no possibility that his subordinates would have to bear it with him. In exchange for this, the Knights would not lose standing because of him. And in doing this, the issue within the city would still be resolved.

"Tell me: what do you want me to do?"

The magician's next words might cause his thoughts to change completely if they prove sufficiently outlandish, but for the moment, Henry Moore was content with assisting this failed weaver in the correction of their shared mistake.
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Post  Erin Lightheart Thu Jan 05, 2017 7:57 am

Much as Birdway suspected, Erin had taken to the hazy, cold streets once again in search for answers that night. It didn't feel good to abandon her only chance at having shelter and food in town, but it was easier than having to work out further arrangements with her guests. Besides, she was used to being out in the cold, no thanks to her upbringing. The cold winters of the Irish countryside made Whitby pleasantly warm by comparison.

Still...she shivered. Her wisp-like breaths faded into the night as she continued down the street, hands in her pockets. Illuminated windows and lights blurred past her as she continued her journey, only being knocked out of her personal haze at the sight of a mother rushing over to her daughter. The little one began crying as her mother scolded her for getting lost...followed by a tearful embrace that could have only been borne from unconditional love.

The family disappeared inside their nearby house, and yet Erin still stood in chilled awe at what she had just witnessed. The display of love had all but halted her entire train of thought. This ray of light was enough to pierce through her barriers and reach her otherwise undefended heart.

Memories were stirred. The blurred features of the woman she could barely remember came into the picture, reassuring her that her upcoming birthday would be the best one ever. The promise had done well to keep her warm for those days that followed, as no party was ever thrown, and she once again had to scrounge for food in the latest abandoned cabin they had taken up residence in.

While empty promises succeeding in keeping her warm for a short time, the long term chilling effect had long since taken root. An absence of love, of any form of companionship had ill prepared her for the wider world that awaited her as she grew up. Humans were the sort to struggle together and come out on top. But what of an unwanted someone who has to face the world alone?

Patrolling faction members were still in clear view. If what Birdway indicated was true, and based on her own experiences and assumptions made so far, then these were types who would sooner murder or enslave those who disagreed with them about anything than try to work out differences and cooperate. Then again, wasn't that true of virtually every group of humans throughout history?

She continued walking, looking wearily at the ground ahead of her so as to not catch the attention of any would-be hotshot lunatic wanting to make some kind of example out of her. This was the sort of world that her Mother had attempted to make her part of. She had even taken on a Magic name out of ignorance, and now she was ashamed of it. Was the world really as rotten as it appeared to be?

Once more, she found herself alone. There was stifled laughter as she realized the cruel irony of it all. She wanted nothing more than companionship and love, and yet now she could only feel comfortable when alone. She even left the others to pursue both leads by herself so as to not bother Albrekka and Birdway with her presence.

She stared at the night sky with a forlorn gaze as she wondered about her predicament and what the future had in store. Since there was nobody in her life whom she could pour her heart out to at the worst of times, she spoke her mind aloud...in the form of song.

In this world mired in darkness
I gaze heavenward in despair
Awaiting an answer to my prayers
Will they simply vanish into thin air?

The things these eyes have beheld
A glimpse into the abyss of humanity
Limitless vanity
Boundless insanity.

What if that prayer is rebuked?
Will I alone stand against the tide?
Would those with power never cast aside their pride?
Must the weak and powerless continue to hide?

If not a God, then I shall wish upon a Shooting Star
Anything that may grant us light
If only I could be so bright
To save us all from this plight.

The sun has not yet fully set
But the twilight has begun to end
For the light to return we must transcend
And become our own light instead.

Until we are blessed with the dawn
And the powerful no longer disagree
I can only offer you all one guarantee
"If nobody else, then it must be me"




A cold wind blew past her, swallowing up everything she had unleashed, and brought her back into reality. As strange as it might have been for her to sing aloud as she did, it did reinvigorate her spirit enough to keep going onward. Her head felt chillier than usual, and it was then that she noticed the wind had picked up and carried her hat away.

Could this be a sign of things to come?
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Thu Jan 12, 2017 3:58 pm

As the hat was carried away by the wind…
[SS] Hazy Silhouette - Page 4 Ck33tw5t
…Henry Moore’s laughter reverberated through the silent space. It spread out of the main prayer hall, down the hallways and throughout the entirety of the Church of St. Mary.

A pile of paper fell over, somewhere a drop dove down into a sink and that was about all there was that happened. Richmond Longroad hadn’t even moved an inch during its time on the stage. He’d left it as the solo of the beaten musician at his wits’ end. That was fine. He just watched, but didn’t allow to be seen through himself.

«Tell me, then. In exchange for taking on the burden of my screw up, what do you want?»

Most certainly though…

«Tell me: what do you want me to do?»

…this wasn’t a reaction to expect of a Knight of England.

«I see. That’s good.»

There was no surprise anywhere on this man that was still seated on the cold marble like stone floor, eating a hamburger and checking some papers. It was as if he had received a result to something he had calculated over and over again, long past reaching a fixed value.

«Here. Read this.»

Simply reaching his hand out, the man offered the paper, he had been holding onto up until now, towards Moore. It was a movement, quite simple, yet extremely humiliating. After all Longford had been holding it at the ready for quite some time, only waiting to play his part, not even in a triumphant manner, but in a dull, practised one and he did it fully aware that Moore must have noticed.

The paper itself was the usual white sheet you could buy at any convenience store these days. The contents however weren’t the work of a printer, but left there by a typewriter.

It was a report.

According to it people had gone missing all over Whitby, shortly before the incidents and rumours leaked into the public. In the beginning the disappearances had been entirely a rare thing that no one even noticed, once the rumours about the vampire spread, however, things went out of control. The numbers had grown. But that was not yet the strange thing. The report said that even though many went missing, none of that was ever reported to the police or even noticed, not even by higher authorities of investigation, not even Necessarius; up until recently. Since the people simply disappeared and were never seen again, a connection to the  «vampire» – who actually left their victims easy to find – appeared a falsifiable possibility only.
Additionally handwritten notes placed all over the paper presented another possibility: The apparent presence of Magicians involved with the Portuguese Market in Whitby.

«I can’t have you interfere with our work right now. However there are some other nuisances I would like you take care of. Unlike us you seem to have the combat force for this ordeal and it isn’t like you to just drop the life of the innocent citizens’ value down to zero just for something of higher priority, is it?»

He was neither hot nor cold. Neither agitated nor calm. He was just sitting there, taking just another bite, savouring the flavour.

«Mmmmh. If you do good, I’ll invite you to one of these. Mmmmh. They’re quite good. Mummmmh!»


An out of place invitation was spoken ❯❯❯


As it danced through the cold morning air…

«Have you ever wondered why the big players are so keen on heading to this place, just for something that might or might not exist?»

…that girl cunningly placed the empty cup on the saucer.

Vampires were a topic that was often faced with the doubt of the many. Magicians made a whole lot of assumptions, but eventually all ended up being considered just a vague possibility. And yet so many had arrived. So many had been pushed here by their superiors’ orders. Even though the reason itself was said to be just a hazy silhouette.

So could it be that there was actually something more to the basic premise of it all?

«Nobody knows if this so called ‹vampire› is reality or fake. However, what some have gained consciousness over is the question if the entire concept of a vampires is reality or fake. You see, there are some people who have obtained advanced clarity about the truth of the original secret. And some of those are actually guests of this town and some are the ones pulling the strings in the shadows. At this point the question whether vampires do actually exist or not is just a farce, since this very incident can be taken as an answer to that, can’t it? The only issue people are having at this point is determining whether this vampire is a real one or not, since – that’s the funny part – no one has ever met one face to face. Well, maybe nearly no one~»

The world was a large organism. It was filled with stories of many different people, handed over by many different people to many more different people. Most of what was delivered was utterly useless or lacking point. However if someone actually began sorting out the large mass, there was some truly useful information to it. The people doing so, though, were rare to begin with. So rare, that their actions evolved into power. Leivinia Birdway was one holding onto such power.

She had gotten her hands onto a few interesting pieces. Dangerous pieces.

«But let me be honest, I’m not really interested in acquiring this once in a life time chance. What fool would I be, if I were?»


An important truth was mentioned on the sidelines ❯❯❯


As it landed in someone’s outstretched hand it came to rest.

A person was standing there amid the otherwise lifeless early morning road. Unlike before the traces of men or women patrolling had ceased and as if to support that all other indications of life had quickly followed along the line.

All there was, was a woman of snow white skin and sharp yellow eyes in a victorian evening dress that was torn and damaged at places.

Slowly lowering the arm that had caught the detective girl’s hat, her eyes fixated solely the catch she’d just made. Like an animal that had made the foreign discovery of a picnic basket out in the woods, the woman inspected the key feature of that other girl’s wardrobe with careful shyness.

And then, all of sudden, her target switched. Her gaze directly striking for the newcomer.

The breeze stopped.



It was only her eyes that would speak. No word or sound.



Then she moved. Quick steps, as if to signal a violent charge. The distance would be closed in an instant, like a predator towards its startled prey, a one way road with no escape. It was just a second or so and then…

She stopped. She bowed deeply – stealing a mannerism from a country in the far east – and stretched out both her arms, directly pushing it towards the girl. It was neither a knife, a gun, nor a deadly claw, just a simple hat. The good the other had lost.




A silent exchange of gazes marked the key to an odd encounter ❯❯❯
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Post  Sir Alexander Beathen Sat Jan 14, 2017 3:43 pm

There will always be consequences to actions, no matter what choice you take there will always be an outcome. Sometimes you can be lucky, and it will end up being a good aftermath to a severe problem, but that is rarely the case for knights. Stuck between a rock and a hard place their role in the United Kingdom is to maintain the status quo between the three leading powers in the UK. And that wasn't easy in any stretch of the imagination.

To put this difficulty into words, the structure of the country's power base relied on three equal powers.

The Royal family headed by the Queen and her royal entourage.

The Knights headed by the Leader and his fellow knights.

And the Anglican Church headed by the Archbishop and her believers.

The relationship between this powers was rather complex with a history going back generations, but it was very simple to explain the formal relationship.

The Royal Family controls the Knights through direct orders; the Knights make use of the Anglican Church with political influence, and the Anglican Church manipulates the Royal Family through holy advice.

All three had their roles to play in the country's structure and considering the toxic political nature between the groups and even smaller groups in the UK. It was very safe to say; the Knights haven't got it easy, but their work isn't more important than others but more restrictive.

They have to be neutral; they can't cause much of a stir unlike the church or the royal family at least they can get away with it more than the others. Because frankly, they cannot be seen favouring one side completely or the role of keeping the balance between the three would crumble. But that also meant ensuring that the knights remained on par with the other two groups.

It was a tough game, but nothing which the knights aren't accustomed too by now. Compared to the church they have been at it far longer and probably why relations between them and the Knights were strained. Because it wasn't always like this as in the past, the church hadn't held the same level of power as it does now, and that had greatly angered the Knights. That a tool which was created to undermine the Roman Catholic church was now equal to them and not wanting to be restricted by a tool the Knights only really listen to the Royal family or their Leader.

This was shown by often showing a lack of interest in orders coming from Church to sometimes downright disobeying them.

History and relationships define people, and the choices they make in the future. So it wasn't a surprise that none of the Knights wasn't exactly enthusiastic about answering a summons from the church. And the resulting meeting wouldn't bring any further smiles.

It felt the entire time the church members were giving them a lecture, and it must have felt increasingly annoying for the others who weren't at the police station. But for Alexander he was very angry with what was going on and yet he didn't show it. His facial expression remained calm and stoic even after finding out about the fate of the magician he had encountered at the Police station.

«I don’t think you see, Henry Moore. But thank you for admitting that you will take responsibility for that other thing that happened. Getting an official statement from you makes things a whole lot easier.»

Alexander held his tongue, but the Golden-haired Knight was not amused as he new and he was sure the church officials understood as well that the incident at the police station wasn't their fault. While he and Moore could have approached the situation in a less aggressive manner as they did it was the magician who caused the events to spire out of control. But that was just one action in a long line of mistakes which gets marked down as tensions brewing between the two factions.

The Church's own members biggest weakness was their self-serving attitude to see out their own wishes. Greed was their biggest weakness and also their biggest strength.

A double edged-sword.

But now Sir Moore had accepted responsibility, not even the greatest politician could hope to turn this around on them. Not when proof was nowhere to be found at least.

«I did not call you in to discuss your breach of common sense, since that is something that was already settled. I have taken some means to shield you there, even though it left a bad taste in my superior’s mouths. You see this is a rather good opportunity to worsen the knight’s reputations with the royal family and all that…but for now I’ll show some good will keeping that at bay, like I said.»

As the conversation continued Alexander's eyes narrowed in response knowing that the meaning of the good will shown was nothing but a wolf in a sheep disguise. He didn't like it but now of all times wasn't his right to speak. Alexander has his own place without the group and there weren't any plans for him to intervene and even though he didn't like what was happening, the knight was required to remain silent.

«The man I was talking about, is not the man you thought I meant.»

Though the knight's eyes spoke more than what words could explain and when a marble hit the ground, Alexander's eyes reacted as if he was spooked. The sound of it hitting the cold hard floor echoed throughout the hall, and Alexander's eyes followed it without fail. Maybe there was a slight influence left from the spell used at the police station, but a much stronger force was attracting his attention.

It was consequences.

Every action had one either it is good or bad, and though he gathered the magician didn't survive he only actually saw it for what it was right now. It didn't matter if the magician brought it upon himself, they were still citizens of this country, and that only meant he was one person he failed to save.

«Paul Oldturf is the one I meant. He died, even though he shouldn’t have. He died at the hands of the monster, he should have helped bring down. The scene of his death should have been the scene of this catastrophe’s end.»

Make that two people, both sides were to blame for both death Alexander had thought as picked up the marble.

«What you have done is by far worse than giving the spark to a conflict between our two factions. What your actions have allowed happen, is for this situation to outgrow anything our hands can grasp. You haven’t just prevented this from ending. You caused this to grow rapidly.»

And despite if this magician's words held real merit it was clear to Alexander that one of the main goals were to push guilt upon Sir Moore and not able to see his superior's expression clearly he wasn't able to tell if it was achieved. And so he had only hoped that Sir Moore would be able to see past it and act accordingly to the situation.

Debt or not the good will was shown had been nothing but a ploy. However, after Sir Moore had responded Alexander wasn't sure how to word it in his mind other than...

"Sir Moore was outplayed." Alexander thought who remained stoic in expression.

By accepting this favour as a repayment of debt, the church in this instance has raised above their station. They outplayed the knight's leadership and continued to act without any real dialogue. Keeping their own plans a secret they have undermined the knight's own mission. To keep order and to maintain the balance they had to put things right before its too late.

They need to find out what game the Church was playing.

Not knowing the Church's objective was now more dangerous in Alexander's mind than rumours of a vampire. If greed is their greatest strength and weakness Alexander only feared what they were planning. But to him, while it was without ground at the moment, the whole thing seemed orchestrated, and the Knights were playing their tune.

«I can’t have you interfere with our work right now. However there are some other nuisances I would like you take care of. Unlike us you seem to have the combat force for this ordeal and it isn’t like you to just drop the life of the innocent citizens’ value down to zero just for something of higher priority, is it? Mmmmh. If you do good, I’ll invite you to one of these. Mmmmh. They’re quite good. Mummmmh!»

And while he hoped his suspicious was wrong and the church wanted what was good for Whitby and for it's citizens. Richmond Longroad's final words only helped to confirm that they were indeed dancing to their tune.

"Christ that guy needs a haircut" Alexander thought who seemed put off by the magician's scruffy nature.
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Post  Albrekka Starbright Mon Jan 16, 2017 9:13 pm

«Have you ever wondered why the big players are so keen on heading to this place, just for something that might or might not exist?»

Truthfully, the thought had not fully crossed her mind.  After all, the truth of a matter is power to some, so it is only natural for those of power to seek truth for themselves and fool the rest.  Still, she looked to Leivinia, still holding her cup, listening to her.

«Nobody knows if this so called ‹vampire› is reality or fake. However, what some have gained consciousness over is the question if the entire concept of a vampires is reality or fake. You see, there are some people who have obtained advanced clarity about the truth of the original secret. And some of those are actually guests of this town and some are the ones pulling the strings in the shadows. At this point the question whether vampires do actually exist or not is just a farce, since this very incident can be taken as an answer to that, can’t it? The only issue people are having at this point is determining whether this vampire is a real one or not, since – that’s the funny part – no one has ever met one face to face. Well, maybe nearly no one~  But let me be honest, I’m not really interested in acquiring this once in a life time chance. What fool would I be, if I were?»

"Hm...so you aren't here for the same reasons everyone else is."  That seemed to be the takeaway, anyway, and expected of someone like Leivinia.  "And yes, the sentiment that finding out whether or not this vampire is a real one or now may very well prove the 'farce' as you put it."  She would place the cup down.  Clearly, an independent magician such as Albrekka would not be privy to the same intel that Leivinia would, that of the incidents in Academy City, thus she had inadvertently taken Leivinia's comment with trepidation.  After all, to her, the case for vampires had yet to be proven, but if one was in the city, that would certainly prove the latter.  But Leivinia clearly knew more of what was happening.

"Fine tea, though."  She would place her empty cup back on its saucer.  "Thanks for that, what you say has been rather enlightening.  I think there's a lead there I can use."  She would look to Leivinia after saying this.  What or who did she have in mind?  "Though to be honest, that lead would be too slow for what is happening here, and people don't like late news, after all.  Perhaps the powers that be in Whitby could be prodded in the meantime."

How, though, was another matter entirely...
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Post  Vita Vesta Caesar Tue Jan 17, 2017 7:39 am

As Moore bent over slightly to accept the papers from Longroad, who remained seated as he had been from the start, he failed to react in the slightest at the magician's practiced motions. After all, such a thing was to be expected. Since even before he had ever received that letter, everything had already gone according to what Longroad had predicted, so something as small as this was only natural and nothing worth getting worked up over.

Quickly skimming over the contents, Moore frowned. The printed portions were worrying; slipping through Necessarius' sight was not an easy task. Regardless of how the Knights felt about the Church, unless they were a fool they would at least recognize their competence. However, it was the handwritten notes that caught his eye. The Portuguese Market's presence...

«I can’t have you interfere with our work right now. However there are some other nuisances I would like you take care of. Unlike us you seem to have the combat force for this ordeal and it isn’t like you to just drop the life of the innocent citizens’ value down to zero just for something of higher priority, is it?»

"Unlike you, yes."

It was as of yet unclear what the intent behind Longroad's words were. Truth or fiction? Misdirection? Did this have nothing to do with the vampire incident, merely being meant to distract the knights, or was it a part of some larger plot? Without that knowledge, Moore didn't even know what his response meant. Whether it was an affirmation or a denial.

"Very well, then. The Knights will mobilize to deal with them. We will crush these possible culprits."

Another portion of his words, however, Moore was reasonably certain of the intent behind. Regardless of the reason for their presence here, if they were indeed present at all, the men of the Market were most likely not the culprits behind this case. There was no basis in logic to support this thought. It would be too simple that way, was all. Which meant that this was a convenient goose chase to send the Knights on. There might be still more intents, plans layered upon plans, but he was likely to be at least one of them.

"Will that be all?"

The invitation to a meal went wholly ignored.
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Post  Erin Lightheart Tue Jan 17, 2017 10:44 pm

The girl's appearance and apparent romanticized flair left Erin stunned with a visible blush. There were plenty of weirdos gathered in this hazy town, but this was the only one so far to do more than just strut around like they were too important to even deign to help out or talk to another human being. Upon closer inspection however, she realized exactly who this person was. Could her infamous luck be to blame?

"Thank you. I try not to go anywhere without it, and believed it to be a bad omen when the wind swept it from my grasp."

Carefully taking the hat and placing it back on her head, she continued with a welcoming smile.

"Pleased to meet you! My name is Erin. Erin Lightheart. If i'm not mistaken, we met earlier but never had the chance to be introduced. Are you well?"

Considering the predicament the girl was in earlier, she made certain not to directly reference what led to their previous encounter. With clothes as torn as they were, it was likely she had nowhere else to go, either.

"You know, I have some spare outfits. If you need a change of clothes to avoid attention, then they're yours, free of charge."
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Wed Jan 18, 2017 11:02 pm

[SS] Hazy Silhouette - Page 4 Ck33tw5t
«Indeed.»

There was no such thing as a fleshed out reply spawning from whatever enthusiasm Moore may have expected. Longroad neither smiled, smirked, nor did he allow himself to reveal any other sign of pleasure or displeasure.

Just like Moore he ignored the need for any more honorific words, not even the actually all too necessary good bye note such a conversation would usually be left off with.

Thus the knights would finally be given the chance to take their leave, with only that single sheet of paper provided to them.

And then silence would unfold, as the curtain closed before the man still sitting there amidst the chaos with his beef-sandwich still in his hand.


Yet another conversation was meeting the same fate.


With their empty cups now seated on the saucers, tea time seemed to have come to an end.

«Surely, someone as well mannered as you would know how to behave properly and pay back a proper price for what they have received?»

That’s what things always came down to. Still, the ring in Birdway’s voice was surprisingly malicious. Her eyes quickly nailing down the girl seated across the empty space.

The big question, she allowed itself to manifest by artfully using a short break in her speaking, would linger between the two.

«Now, pour me another cup of that tea. Oh, even better, bring me a pot will you? Oh and make it refined, yes? I am a lady after all.»

From a source of unending wisdom to a spoiled brat pushing others around like her pawns, all that was Leivinia Birdway — a girl not too shy to show off all her sides, especially the bad ones.


Much like them there were also others getting themselves immersed in soft boiled talk.


«Thank you. I try not to go anywhere without it, and believed it to be a bad omen when the wind swept it from my grasp.»



Only silence followed, as she stared.

«Pleased to meet you! My name is Erin. Erin Lightheart. If i'm not mistaken, we met earlier but never had the chance to be introduced. Are you well?»



The woman would not speak a single word. Her yellow cat like eyes, however, would grow soft, allowing for a bit of empathy, a hint of joy to flash through. Maybe her way of saying «nice to meet you!» or «don’t worry! I’m fine!».

As if having the thought over it process in her mind until realisation was reached, she suddenly tried to form chaotic gestures with both her arms and head, resembling a kindergartener’s attempt at mastering an advanced technique. Sadly said attempt was plastered with the same result. Clearly lack of experience.

«You know, I have some spare outfits. If you need a change of clothes to avoid attention, then they're yours, free of charge.»



Again, the silence.

Frantically shaking her head in addition to the hectic gestures, of which one was the act of pointing at her own battered clothing while shaping a poor shot at a heart with her hands, the girl in black tried her most to bring something across.

She obviously couldn’t speak or maybe she just didn’t wish to. Whichever the case, she tried conquering the hardship of somehow crossing that line with high spirits.


Somehow the silence had ended up as anybody’s enemy. One was crafting a new start, the other trying their most to fight their natural alignment with it and then there was that man in the all too silent hall…


In the end it had been just a short pause. With the knights having left both the room and building, the doors closed behind their backs, Longroad could finally heave a sigh of relief. Neither for the tension nor for the difficulty of that diplomatic act. All there was, was finally the chance to take a wholehearted bite of his sandwich and actually get back up onto his feet. His leg had fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of the important talk.

Appreciating the opportunity to be relieved from that, he did a little dance to get rid of the annoying sensation.

It was then that his eyes flashed through the thick bang’s shadow.

«Catch!»

A sudden toss, revealing something he had removed from one of his pockets during the weird little dancing number, aimed to nowhere in particular.

However where there had been nothing when the item was thrown, there suddenly stood a girl. Or maybe there had been a girl all along? Either way, with surprise written all over her face said girl caught the sudden bomb thrown her way.

«Eh!? How do you always…!?»

A smug grin ran across the poncho priest’s lips, as he finally stopped following his rather comical movements.

The girl was about three or four heads smaller than him. She was so small it was a feature that’d naturally render her cute. But beyond that her large head with large emerald eyes and fluffy golden hair tied to a pony tail, actually helped to increase the rather cuddly impression. Overall, cute like a child was pretty much what would stick with one at first impression. The only thing ruining it was her rather skimpy choice of clothing, leaving you wonder how she survived being out with the good old English winter going on outside. But it was always the right time for dark green one legged leggings and a chest area only top with a minimalistic leather vest, right?

Having gotten over the older man’s surprise attack, she eyed her gains: A burger. Still packed. Warm. What a letdown.

«There you go. Your reward. The task: Keep an eye on Moore and Beathen. If anything should happen report immediately. Hell, try keeping me in touch all the time. ’s all. Now go.»

As before he wouldn’t leave a chance for objection, simply planting whatever gain in the other party’s hands; only in a more lighthearted manner.

«Always! Always! You always do that! I always run out there risk my life and all that and all you can give me is a fucking burger?! Aren’t you some super important honcho or something?! Why is it always burgers with you!? Always that stuff only you like! How about you give me something I like for once?! You can do that, can’t you!? Goddammit! OK. Don’t give me that look! Yeah I know. Bye!»

In the end, it always went that way. Longroad had already grown used to it, so he couldn’t help but give a sincere smile, as the little girl’s presence had suddenly vanished. Or maybe it had vanished somewhere along the path. He could never tell for sure.

Either way, this time he was quite sure that he was truly alone. Therefore he took another bite before taking on before’s serious demeanour. Time to head back to work.

«It’s the most personal things that’re best…mmhh.»

That last comment would seal the curtains’ closure. This time for real.
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Post  Sir Alexander Beathen Thu Jan 19, 2017 1:25 am

They wouldn't go far the Knights of England had only just left the building, and onto church street lane they headed to the top of Church Street. But among the haze that the town laid strangled, the Goldern haired knight had decided to speak up after being far enough out not to be heard by anyone in the church.

He stopped first as a way to grab Sir Moore's attention more than just calling out. Pulling down his hood the Golden-haired Knight spoke with clarity.

"Forgive me Sir Moore, but before we head towards our next destination, we should take the appropriate step towards the Church." Alexander said knowing that his words may come as a surprise. Since he would be the last Knight to speak with caution regarding the church. "This is only advice, but I do suggest we contact headquarters and deliver a report on what's happened so far and respond accordingly to their orders. They're the only one who can enforce subversion against another group as long they can handle the political consequences that would soon follow. Especially if it's the Anglican Church as I don't know about you that meeting has left a bad taste in my mouth." Alexander said who looked serious upon saying those words. He wasn't sure if the others felt the same way, but he was at least being vocal about his concerns.

Communication remained important.  

"The blame for what happened aside, they had successfully undermined our original mission and yet kept their agenda a secret. With Whitby already a powderkeg, the church running around whose objectives are unknown are now too dangerous to leave unchecked." Alexander continued making it clear where he stands. "But they got us, and we need to make sure things are clear on the market, so nobody's life is in danger. But I'd advise we need to stay ahead and make that report to headquarters. As someone has been stringing us along and I don't like it one bit." Alexander concluded after referencing a feeling he had at the end of the meeting. He had felt they were playing to their tune and the magician's words didn't help to dispell it.

It was important for them to get a step ahead of the other groups, even politically they had to assert pressure from all fronts to handle this powder keg called Whitby.

Speaking out like this wasn't an objection against Moore's leadership but merely advisement. While this doesn't mean he knew better, it was more efficient for a group to share their views when possible rather when it's too late. Bowing with respect at the end of his words showed his commitment and respect to Sir Moore.
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Post  Vita Vesta Caesar Sun Jan 22, 2017 5:44 am

"A bad taste in your mouth, huh."

Moore gave no complaint to Beathen's sudden halt, and he wasn't exactly surprised either. What he had witnessed just now was without doubt a cause for concern, and Moore could sympathize with a desire to deal with the unpleasant situation. So he repeated his subordinate's words, taking a moment to mull over them and give them proper thought. Thought which he concluded with a sigh.

"The higher-ups can't help us here, I'm afraid."

He spoke simply and straight to the point. The Knights with him had borne witness to the entire exchange, and Beathen in particular had been present for every step of this misadventure, so there was no point in attempting to hide anything.

"You're a talented one, Beathen. More talented than me, that's for sure. Your sword arm is more than a little lacking, but you've got a good head on your shoulders, and that's more than I can say. But you still suffer from a fatal lack of experience, it seems." Moore paused, and looked Beathen in the eyes. His attitude was not that of one offering a reprimand, but of a senior giving guidance to his well-meaning but misguided junior.

"Like you said, they got us. They got us. From a moral standpoint, we owe them a debt, and from a practical standpoint... They have some blackmail which could affect not just us, but the Knights as a whole. Listen, Beathen. Those Church bastards are old hands at this. I laughed earlier, but the fact remains: if we're lions who protect the U.K. with our fangs and claws, then they're spiders who trap its enemies in inescapable webs. And right now, we've been caught in one of them."

"If you think it's so easy to escape their web once caught in it, then you'll be in for a rude awakening. If we just go and tattle on them, then the marionette strings will become garottes, just like that." Moore slid his thumb across his neck, a gesture whose meaning was universally understood. "And you can be sure that they'll find out. Those guys are old hands at this; they'll have their bases covered. And you can't count on miraculous acts of idiocy to thwart their plans every time."

With a self-deprecating remark tacked onto the end, Moore made his own opinion clear. He had said it before and he would say it again: he had been thoroughly outplayed. At this stage in the game, there was simply, unfortunately, absolutely nothing he could do. Any reckless acts of rebellion would only lead to tragedy. However.

"Well, that doesn't mean it'll always be like this." A faint smile made it's way to Moore's face; it was not one filled with confidence or bravery, but a content one that showed no signs of a desire to rush. "It's because someone's been stringing us along that we can't do what you suggest, but now that we know we know we're puppets, we have more options afforded to us. We can wait for a chance to fight back. I admit it's a rather passive approach, but it's all we can do right now."

For an ordinary person to advance their station, there are two iron-clad rules they must follow. First, they must tirelessly expand their limits. As they are not extraordinary, that much is absolutely necessary to keep up with those who are more privileged, whether by talent, wealth, or birth. And second, is to absolutely never attempt anything that is outside your limits. If you do so, you will be destroyed. If you fail, you will lose everything, and even if you succeed, you will lose the ability to judge your own ability and soon reach the same fate.

This was a tightrope walk Moore had made his second home. The comfortable familiarity of the situation allowed Moore to ignore the irritation he felt at being manipulated. This was the result of his tireless effort, of his accumulated experience. He could never stand up to those superior to him, but he would never attempt to in the first place. Instead, he would steadily grow, and before they knew it, he would stand as their equal. This was more perilous a situation then he had encountered before, owing to his own mistake, but that theory alone remained undisturbed.
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