[center][h1][u][b]Part 1- Bodies[/b][/u][/h1][/center] The man's heart thundered in his breast like a tribal drum. The back of his throat was bitter with fear and the exertion of running at a dead sprint at a time in his life when his body would no longer tolerate such unplanned exertion. Tears of fear burned at the corner of his eyes as he pounded down the alley, trying not to look back and yet unable to stop himself from trying to steal a glance at the… the thing that pursed him. Risking a look he could catch only its shadow, long and tenebrous, against the red brick wall of the alley way, not upon him, not quite. The man burst out of the alley mouth across a deserted street, hurdling a low rope divider that set off a neatly apportioned city park. Moonlight and terror gave the place a sinister aspect for all the merry-go-round and duck pond must have made it idyllic in the daylight hours. He pounded down the gravel path towards the pond, casting another furtive glance over his shoulder as he passed a park bench that in warmer times might have housed a drifter. Even that dubious human contact would have been something. There were no people anywhere, no bystanders, no police, no help. Greg wasn't a bad guy. No worse than most. What could he have done to deserve this... this whatever it was. Fumbling in his pocket he snatched out his cellphone and swiped the display live. In front of him the gravel path wove between gracefully arching oak trees. In the warmer months it would have formed a pleasant canopy but at the moment the bare branches were skeletal and threatening. A weird laughter sounded behind him, sinister and inhuman. Sobbing he bolted for the trees furiously thumbing his phone for a number, any number and thrust the phone against his ear. In the dark he stumbled his expensive shoes slipping in the gravel, instinctively he threw out a hand to arrest his fall as he tumbled into the red cedar mulch, feeling the rough would splinter his hand but caring not at all. "Hello..." a sleepy voice asked in his ear. "O...Olivia," he panted feeling the first spark of hope since the thing had appeared in his peripheral vision as he left the bar. He thrust himself to his feet, one of his shoes was gone and the gravel stung his foot through the thing sock as he got back onto the path, racing between the trees. "Greg? What the fuck its three in the god damn..." "Oliva I need you to call 911 tell them I'm in the park west of..." Something stabbed downwards from the trees in front of him and Greg opened his mouth to scream, but the only sound that was heard was a hollow mocking chuckle as pain and darkness closed around him. ______________________________________________________ There were many things that Eleanor Tregellan enjoyed. Wine, chocolate, feminine company, bookstores, necromancy, and coffee. Running however, she could have done with out. At 35 she was no longer the energetic youngster who had cheerful ran marathons just for fun, the ravages of Mother Time were beginning to catch up with her in a dozen aches and pains that she wouldn't have had to deal with ten or even five years before. She was a trim woman, though that was more through exercise than genetics, hence the running, with dark red hair and a generous spattering of freckles that broadcast 'kiss me, I'm probably at least Boston Irish' to anyone with an eye for it. She jogged up the driveway of crushed marble, past the sculpted trees and well concealed wards, to the large two story house she shared with Emmaline. According to her annoyingly precise smart watch, it was nearly five forty five, though in early March dawn was still an hour or so away. The motion detector on the house lights clicked and soft illumination flooded the front steps. Blowing hard, she wiped the sweat from her brow and slowed to a walk stepping to the dark oak portal and pressing her hand to the middle of a large brass sun and moon symbol which was screwed into the timber. "Hestias," she intoned wearily and the lock opened with a soft whisper of metal on metal. She pushed open the door and stepped across the threshold, closing it with a quick check of her hip that sent a gentle bang through the lower story. The interior lights were already on and she could hear a soft musical voice humming a German folk tune from the kitchen. The smells of hot food and freshly brewed coffee were like ambrosia and Ellie changed course and headed to the kitchen. A statuesque blond woman behind the gold shot marble counter tops, pouring some kind of butter syrup over pancakes. Even in an old UCLA t shirt, Emmaline Von Morganstern contrived to look elegant and sophisticated, her mused hair, yet to be tamed from sleep, hung in a stylish disarray that a model on the catwalk might pay for a hairdresser to achieve. Emmaline looked up and smiled as Ellie entered and she promptly forgot all about her aching muscles and the various irritations of approaching middle age. “There you are gelibete,” Emmaline said with a smile her Autrian accent clipping the words sharply. Though Emmaline had been in America for a decade the Land of the Free was making little headway against her implacable Teutonic tongue. You could take the girl out of Neuschwanstein but you couldn't take Neuschwanstein out of the girl. Emmaline produced a pancake and a cup of chilled orange juice and set them down on the kitchen table for Ellie, liberally adding the buttery syrup without asking. “You are just hell bent on undoing my run aren’t you,” Ellie teased as she took her seat. Emmaline snorted and produced a second pancake and some coffee for herself before joining her lover at the table. She laid her hand across Ellie’s and squeezed gently. “You are too skinny anyway,” Emmaline told her primly and began cutting into her pancake. Emmaline called them pancakes but in reality they had so much egg in them they were more like a custard slice and they were Ellie favorite. “Have you looked over the auguries this morning? They are not good,” Emmaline complained, her accent sharpening ‘good’ to something more like ‘Gut’ with a German glottal stop. Ellie groaned. “You have made breakfast and read the auguries? Only you could make me feel lazy for only completing a 90 minute run,” Ellie laughed. Emmaline leaned back, the fabric of her shirt stretching rather distractingly over her chest, and retrieved a tablet which she passed over to Emmaline. It was an android of course as the Wozniak Geas made all apple products inherently dangerous for any kind of Working. Emmaline thumbed it on and looked at the file which was being displayed, a PDF copy of the output of a half dozen pen and ink stenography machines. She frowned as she adsorbed the information. “That looks like dangerously like a Silinus curve to me,” she said indicating the right most graph. Emmaline nodded. “It’s only a five step Fourier transform of it,” Emmaline corrected. Unlike Ellie she maintained ties to the world beyond the occult, teaching part time at DuPal where she lectured on the Philosophy of Mathematics. She was better at the math than Ellie was though Emmaline lacked Ellie’s stomach for its more esoteric application. “Do you think we should stop forecasting?” Emmaline asked, taking a sip of her orange juice before continuing her examination. “Maybe,” Emmaline conceded, “I’ll know better once I see what you looking at it has done.” Reading the future was a tricky business, especially so because reading it could very literally alter the events previously foretold. Schrodinger's cat was alive and dead until you opened the box afterall. Sometimes the best thing you could do was stop forecasting all together or else risk disaster via the Cassandra Paradox or some other esoteric law of probability. Ellie nodded and set the tablet down, pushing away thoughts of troubling omens and portents in the mathematical substructure of reality. It was too early to get all ‘and lo I saw a pale horseman’ about it. Conversation turned to more mundane matters. Emmaline’s sister was visiting from Austria next week. The faculty was putting together a dinner party to celebrate Beltane, an idea Emmaline had planted no doubt. Ellie allowed the wash of happy domesticity to pass over her for a few minutes, making appropriate noises in those rare places it was required and generally enjoying Emmaline’s company. Both witches suddenly stiffened a heartbeat before Emmaline’s phone began to buzz. It was work. Of course. “Speak,” Eleanor commanded as she answered the heavily customized smartphone. She nodded her head as the voice on the other end outlined the situation. “Yes, I’ll be in, call it 30… no 45 minutes I need to shower,” she said at last and then hung up the phone. “Do you need me?” Emmaline asked, her blue eyes serious and concerned. Ellie reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Yes,” she said simply and then added, “but not for work, you have class today.” Emmaline pursed her lips no doubt lingering on the ill omens as Ellie devoured the last forkful of pancake and stole a quick swig of her partners coffee. “Ok, Ill take down the forecasting rig, but if you need me, call me, I doubt my students will object if they miss out on a lecture about the importance of the Mandelbrot series,” she admonished. Eleanor was already heading for the door and she turned to give Emmaline a leer. “I wouldn’t be so sure dearest,” she teased, “but don’t worry, this is West Coast stuff, how bad can it be?” __________________________________________________________ From: etregellan@SundayGroup.org To: cdavidson@SundayGroup.org;vkerensky@SundayGroup.org;mduclar@SundayGroup.org; |untranslatable rune| BCC:spriest@PriestHawthorne.org Subject: Pending Assignment - Possible Travel [Urgent] Hi All, A situation has arisen that requires an immediate investigation. Please report to the office ASAP. Travel may be required rapidly so please bring whatever supplies you will need. Current estimate is three days though this may be revised upwards. After the incident with Delta last month I remind you that any weapons will need to be in properly checked baggage, ditto any artifacts that will interfere with navigational equipment. See you shortly, Eleanor Tregellan __________________________________________________________ [hider=Guide] Clue introduced - None Prompt - Get your character from home to the office, give a sense of who your character is at home and make up some details about the office! [/hider]