[hr][hr][center][img]https://s9.postimg.org/5xwkbgd73/8402167275e0247750f8d47a1609230f.png[/img][hr][img]https://s9.postimg.org/58drz6ke7/giphy.gif[/img][hr][@Nallore][@Witch Cat][@FantasyChic][@BlueSky44][@RoccanIronclad][@Peridot][hr][h3][color=#9999ff][b]December 28th, 2016 - 9:01 P.M. EST - 0 Days Since Hel Returned[/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr][hr][i][color=9999ff][b]Main Tent - Cirque Anomaly, Coventry, Massachussetts...[/b][/color][/i]

	Somehow, someway, the rubble crushing Millicent is shifted enough that she can wiggle her way out from underneath. There's no lasting damage to her, though her legs are a bit tingly as the blood returns to them. Her circulation had been cut off for a bit - so good thing she's out now! The cloak in her hand is silent as well. If Millicent didn't know any better, it would have appeared to be an ordinary cloak, without a death spirit imbedded into the fabric. 

	[color=5F7171]"Thanks,"[/color] Darren grunted, as he managed to slide out from underneath the rocks. Cecily still hadn't awakened and Darren stared at her for a moment, clearly crestfallen. They didn't belong in this time. And the longer they stayed, the more damage they'd be doing to the universe. He didn't have anything more than a feeling to back him up on it, but...

	[color=5F7171]"We don't belong here,"[/color] Darren said, turning to face Seraphina. [color=5F7171]"Can you send them back?"[/color]

[i][color=9999ff][b]Lobby - Coventry Horrors Hotel, Coventry, Massachussetts...[/b][/color][/i]

	Well, well, well...This is good news, for once! You see, Lilith got a perfect score. Not only will she see ghosts that are relevant, she's able to find the spirit of just about [i]every[/i] person who ever lived or died in Coventry. The exception is Andromeda and the others who died in the tent - their spirits are strangely absent. Among the spirits she can see are the following: 

[list][*]Mallory Coyne - a Pinkerton detective from the late 1890's
[*]Tobias Fairfax - the founder of Coventry, died in 1691
[*]Lyle Corandel - a hunter of the supernatural, died in the 80's[/list]
	As for the rest of you - Thalia's hallucination hasn't gone away. In fact, it seems that her unwanted visitor now has a friend. The funny asshole is now accompanied by a woman with dark curly hair and mischievous eyes. [i]"C'mon, sweetheart. Enjoy the ride~!" [/i]the new hallucination beckons to Thalia. [i]"One day you'll be dead like me...Dead, dead, dead."[/i]

	Folly is relatively silent, her eyes glancing towards the staircases. She had spent almost all of her time in this hotel running up them, attempting to find a wardrobe that would take her away from this time and to a better one. Fairfax, of course, was focused on the task at hand. "I think that speaking with some spirits is an excellent idea - they may know more about this situation than we do ourselves..."

[i][color=9999ff][b]Cedar Creek Pub - Aurora, Colorado...[/b][/color][/i]

	The suit smirked at Walt. His fondness of alcohol had been well documented, and it hadn't taken him too long to figure out which pub to wait for Walt in. While there were a few to choose from, Cedar Creek had the best booze for the cheapest price. For the hunter on a budget and needing to forget the sins of his past, it was ideal. "We had a suspected sighting of a Norse deity in Washington, near Altsoba. Male, don't have an ID on him yet. Witnesses are being processed as we speak," the man explained calmly. "We need you to--"

	[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izGwDsrQ1eQ]His phone rang[/url] and the agent held up a finger, signaling for Walt to give him a moment. As he answered the phone, the conversation was quick to the point. There were several [i]yes, sir[/i] and [i]I understand, sir[/i] before the suit finally finished the call. He forced a smile at Walt, looking a bit sick to his stomach. "There's been a change of plans. The unknown necromantic is no longer a priority. We need you at the Capitol."

	The man paused for a moment, before standing up from his seat in the booth. "And we're no longer asking - we need you on this." It seemed Walt wouldn't have much of a choice in the matter when it came to the O.M.E.N. agent. Of course, to see O.M.E.N. scrambling like this was incredibly rare. The organization hadn't been around for more than half a year, but they already had a certain reputation established for themselves. 

[i][color=9999ff][b]St. Septima's Veterinary Hospital - Clearwater, Florida...[/b][/color][/i]

	Jessica's luck has taken a turn for the better - and simultaneously, for the worse. Angel Radio was coming in loud and clear, clearer than it perhaps ever had before. Perhaps it was the natural order of the world out of balance, allowing the angels to be more distinct? Or maybe they had finally found her, the signal better as they came closer and closer? Keep on listening...

	[i]--A prophet has foreseen a gathering of warriors in Washington D.C. to fight Hel...[/i]

	[i]--Our squad will approach soon, brother. We have detected a nephilim in Clearwater, Florida.[/i]

	[i]--Finish the job and then join us, sister. The Aesir may have returned...Near Altsoba, one of our number was slain.[/i]

[i][color=9999ff][b]Abandoned Warehouse - Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania...[/b][/color][/i]

	Fortunately, nothing particularly extraordinary or harmful happens as Anthony opens up the container. Of course, that's in a supernatural sense. Scarlett's mood instantly sours, her eyes narrowing as she stares forward at Anthony with hate. Closing her purse angrily, she extends a hand, telekinetically holding Anthony in place. He won't be able to budge or even move a muscle. 

	"Where. Is. It?!" Scarlett screamed. With one hand still holding Anthony fixed in place, she removed an object from her purse with the other: a map. She set the map down on the ground, reciting a Latin incantation. She was performing a tracking spell on the missing item. The map bursts into flames and Scarlett blinks a bit, before finding a shriveled piece of paper left on the ground. On it, a single word has been burned - O.M.E.N. 

	"You set me up?! I'll fucking kill you and your family for this!" Scarlett screamed, seeing red. She flung Anthony backwards, sending him crashing into his own car. The car alarm started to ring and the windshield broke, but the damage to Anthony himself was minimal. 

[i][color=9999ff][b]FBI Mobile Office - Ashland, Wisconsin...[/b][/color][/i]

	Alec's superviser, Vicki Norman, didn't appear to be amused in the very slightest. Her insanely curly hair seemed to be more of a frazzled nest than usual, as if she was preparing a nest for a family of birds. Agent Norman's intense glare was enough to send the agent that had phoned Alec - Agent Summers - practically running towards the break room. It was about eight o'clock in the evening - perfect time to take a dinner break, right? Right?

	"Fletcher, you have to go in [i]now[/i]," Norman explained. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "O.M.E.N - yeah, those assholes - phoned in. They need you in D.C. to debrief them on Agent Murphy's activities. They're calling whatever the fuck is going on an Altsoba Level Event." Norman's phone started ringing again and from the look in her eyes, she may very well decide to smash it into bits at this point. 

	"There's a private plane waiting for you at the airport - and Fletcher...Give whoever hurt our boy hell," Norman instructed, before heading into her office to answer the phone. She shut the blinds, sending a clear warning to those in the mobile office - do not enter unless you have a death wish. [hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=cc9900]Fergus[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]http://pa1.narvii.com/5836/fe0584a9363da91c7517f6759b899d90a72a5af8_hq.gif[/img][hr][b][color=cc9900]Location:[/color][/b] O.M.E.N. Secure Prisoner Facility - O.M.E.N Headquarters - Washington D.C.
[b][color=cc9900]Interacting With:[/color][/b] Rita Evans [@Witch Cat] (also [@FantasyChic])[/center][hr][hr]	Upstairs, Irwin looked at Bronwyn for a moment. The stress and fear was clear on his face and it motivated him to act against his best judgment. Ordinarily, he never would have accepted a civilian request to help. He'd instead direct them to the recruiting office and likely never see them again. O.M.E.N. preferred to seek out individuals and ask them to join, rather than taking those who applied. Anyone who applied for this job, in his experience, was a little insane. 

	"Okay. We're going into the panic room for a briefing," Irwin said with a bit of a sigh. "Hopefully you know something about the Norse goddess of death, kid."

	Seven stories underground, Rita was not having nearly as much success with her conversation partner. The prisoner's facility was designed to keep out just about any sort of supernatural threat - especially demons and angels. Cell phone signals did not work as well. And to make matters even better, the entire chamber was built out of plastic. It had been retrofitted with iron bars after its original prisoner was no longer there, making it into an ideal home for the Consultant. 

	[color=cc9900]"Well...Tell them I'm busy,"[/color] Fergus replied. He was currently spread eagle on the ground, with a glass of whiskey next to him. The nearly empty bottle was rolling around on the floor. [color=cc9900]"My hours are one to two on February 29th...excluding leap years when I'm on holiday."[/color][hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=#C39BD3]Robin Ramírez[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/8d75beacebe0e0be9991f75a08d81f87/tumblr_inline_mkbxxvxQuI1qz4rgp.gif[/img][hr][b][color=#C39BD3]Location:[/color][/b] Room 307 - Hunter Hotel, Omaha, Nebraska 
[b][color=#C39BD3]Interacting With:[/color][/b] Mariana Garcia [@Nallore][/center][hr][hr]	Robin nodded, heeding her cousin's words. Mariana had never been wrong about a demonic possession before - when she was sober, at least. Robin didn't recall them getting the opportunity (thankfully) to test it while Mariana was drunk. Hopefully they'd never know if her sixth sense still worked on those occasions. With her arrow notched and at the ready, Robin took a deep breath as the door opened. Mariana's shot went off, hitting the intruder with a round in the stomach. Robin's arrow was next, hitting the intruder squarely in the shoulder. 

	[color=00ffcc]"Jesus Fucking Christ...,"[/color] the intruder swore, staggering backwards. [color=00ffcc]"That hurts like a motherfucker..."[/color] She panted a bit, squinting as she examined the wound where the arrow was. She didn't want to risk pulling it, just in case it was stemming blood flow. She gritted her teeth, using the door for support. [color=00ffcc]"Sorry about the language...I was told that I'd be able to find Mariana Garcia and Robin Ramírez here."[/color]

	The stranger paused for a moment. [color=00ffcc]"I'm Aloise Zamora - I need your help."[/color]

	[color=#C39BD3]"Aloise Zamora?"[/color] Robin repeated. She hadn't lowered her bow. [color=#C39BD3]"Who told you where to find us?"[/color]

	[color=00ffcc]"Russell,"[/color] Aloise replied. Russell was well known in the hunting community. He knew just about everybody. If he didn't know a person, they didn't exist or they were long since dead. Whenever someone needed help on a job, he tended to point them in the right direction. [color=00ffcc]"Listen, can we talk?"[/color]

	[color=#C39BD3]"About?"[/color] Robin asked, only lowering her weapon slightly. 

	[color=00ffcc]"Saving the world."[/color]