Lord Wraith

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

O<sub><sup>nce, there was a woman who lived a life so bewitching that it could only be true.

_
_
_
_
_
Born to a man cursed with six other daughters. She was the seventh daughter, an omen of terrible things to come. Feared by her

_
_
parents and siblings, she was sold to put their selfish minds at ease. Forced to live a life of shame and sin, she was passed about

_
_
until she eventually took her own life. A seventh daughter, unwed and dead by suicide? But fate intervened, and she was pulled from

_
_
the grave by a goetist named Canidia, who rebirthed the woman into the world as a Striga and trained her in the arcane arts.
_
_
_
_
_
_
Now she is the Bruxa they call...</sup></sub>

---

---

---

---

LOCATION: THE HAUNT - MILK STREET

Walking away from Archie and his friends, Carmilla felt her features soften, her expression notably less vamp-like and flirtatious, instead, replaced by sincerity and longing. She looked back over her shoulder, her signature sultry smile slowly fading into a slight pout as she watched Archie earnestly head towards the side alley.

Anxiously tapping her long, ballerina nails against the countertop, Carmilla took a quick look around to ensure no one was watching her before reaching under the bar rail and pulling a compact mirror from her stowed clutch. Beside the small leather handbag lay her absent conduit. Carmilla had hidden the wand earlier when Archie had eyed it, seeing through the minores sahar, or glamour charm, she had cast.

Re-holstering the ebony rod, Carmilla excused herself from the bar, taking the necessary cautions to avoid Boz before heading towards the same side door that Archie had left through. Looking behind her as she approached, Carmilla scanned every angle to see if anyone was watching; her keen huntress eyes rarely missed a single detail. But even if her eyes did deceive her, Carmilla's other senses were just as attuned to the hunt. She inhaled deeply, taking in the smells around her, tasting them before being satisfied that no living bodies were either near or hidden from her sight.

With a quick flick of her wrists, Carmilla's physical form disappeared, replaced by a dense fog that moved through the damaged seal around the exit before ascending the exterior brick face of the one-time bottling factory. Re-compiling herself atop the roof of the Haunt, Carmilla leered over the edge, watching Archie below before pulling the compact she had wedged into the front of her skin-tight pants' waistline in lieu of struggling to fit it into the nearly non-functional pockets.

She opened the mirror, staring at her own reflection before speaking.

"Garim, Pitruvyah!" She hissed towards the mirror, its surface shimmering as a silhouette, separate from her own, suddenly appeared.

"You said to call if I had an update," Carmilla stated into the pocket mirror. The shadowy visage nodded slightly, prompting her to continue.

"Auber's successor has the Grimoire. It's only a matter of time now." Carmilla explained.

"Then, until it is time, you will continue with your task."

"Look, Uncle, I'm not one of your little meragēls; you said if I did this, my debt was paid, and I was free. I'm not in the business of hurting little boys."

"Little boy? Do you think we are ignorant of the way you have approached the target? Hurting them, no, that's not your business, but you do love to fall for the mark, don't you?" A monotone voice replied from within the small reflective pane.

"He's in trouble. I know you said not to intervene-"

"Then don't."

"It's not that simple. If I don't, someone might die."

"Spilled blood has never mattered to you before." The voice stated. "Why would another red mark in your ledger matter now?"

"This one is different."

"We know you and Auber have a complicated history. Do not to misplace your feelings for the deceased onto the living." A shadow fell across the mirror as the mysterious figure suddenly came closer to the mirror's surface, darkness obstructing the upper half of their face. "Under no circumstances are you to intervene until necessary. Oh, and, Carmilla-"

Their chin was visible from under the shroud, a small smirk appearing above a cleft chin.

"Try not to complicate the relationship with the fledgling." The figure ordered, "Or you'll find yourself... further indebted."

The silhouette disappeared in the mirror as Carmilla shut the compact angrily in her hands. She could feel herself fuming as she looked from the Haunt's roof towards the skyline of Calder City in the distance. Directing her attention to Archie below, she watched as his efforts to track the mysterious van came to no avail. The defeated man returned inside the club while Carmilla was left standing outside by herself.

Her eyes flashed violet, Carmilla scanning the ground below as the scent of Treasure's blood became illuminated to her. Damn Uncle and his Club, she was going to help; there was more at stake in Calder City than Mayhew. Her nostrils flared, the tip of her nose becoming pointed and upturned while her eyes narrowed and her brow became more pointed. Her canines suddenly elongated before an additional pair of fangs covered her lateral incisors. The trail wasn't yet stale, but it was far from fresh. Still, Carmilla could track the scent of Treasure's blood anywhere the van had gone.

She could only hope she wasn't going to be too late.

A pleasantly warming sensation spread across her lower back, like the burning heat of a distant fire. The wing tattoo that was intricately drawn there glowed in the dark of the night before large, leathery wings unfurled from just above her waist. Feeling them mesh and meld with her back, Carmilla gave her wings a test flap before leaping off the rooftop and allowing her new extremities to carry her into the night sky.

O<sub><sup>nce, there was a man who lived a life so mundane, it could only be true.

_
_
_
_
_
Practically invisible to the world around him, life carries on while he felt perpetually stuck treading water just to keep his head

_
_
afloat. Fortunately for the man, fate had different ideas and intervened with a heavy hand. Pushed into a corner, the man

_
_
was driven to hide amongst dusty shelves and heavy tomes. In the silence, he could hear his name being whispered,

_
_
over and over again, until his hand touched one particular opus. A worn book, bound in leather and tarnished steel. Though

_
_
sealed, it opened for a price, and upon spreading its pages, the man's life was changed forever.
_
_
_
_
_
_
Now, he is the Warlock they call...</sup></sub>

---

---

---

---

LOCATION: THE HAUNT - MILK STREET

URBAN GOTHIC #1.13: TBD

---

INTERACTIONS: NONE

PREVIOUSLY: HUNT

"Whether you realize it or not, you're learning to use your familiar. It's the first step any mage makes. Even as we speak, your senses are synchronizing to its own."

Galloway's words echoed in Archie's head again as the chill of the night air hit his face. Stepping into the alleyway, he looked around. This is where the camera had shown Treasure being grabbed, but the van left no tracks on the asphalt to follow. It could have been any other alley in the city as Archie looked around. The brick walls of the once-booming factory district were decorated with graffiti, at least what hadn't been painted over or cleaned off during the gentrification of Milk Street. Empty crates from liquor deliveries lined the immediate walls outside of the Haunt; the whole area was draped in a faint fog laced with the smell of the antique boiler system, which fought for dominance with its own distinct musty odour against the competing dank stench of urine and soggy cigarette ash.

"Marrok," Archie called softly, looking back and forth for any sign of the black dog.

"Marrok!" He repeated, his tone more insistent.

Do I even need to call out loud for you?

The pitter-patter of sharp claws against the black tar of the alley alerted Archie to Marrok's arrival. Red eyes eerily watched him through the fog while the wolf-like silhouette approached, his tongue hanging happily out of his mouth before coming to a seated position directly in front of Archie.

"I need your nose," Archie replied, kneeling beside his familiar, "How do I draw on your senses?" He asked the bagherst only for the dog to suddenly push his cold, wet nose against Archie's face.

In an instant, Marrok disappeared, and Archie staggered backwards. If he had thought the alley smelled awful before, he didn't know what he was expecting when using Marrok's senses. All at once, he was bombarded with layers of smell he couldn't even previously comprehend. Individual ingredients from the street meat a block away, dirt from the Lantern District, the distinct smell of a perfume made of lilac and gooseberries. And there in the middle of all of it was the fleeting scent of Treasure.

Treasure had worn the same perfume for as long as Archie could remember. He had even bought it on Harri's behalf for more than one last-minute Christmas gift run. It had gone under a few names over the years, the latest of which was 'Paradise Lost'.

It was a tropical fruity fragrance with juicy mango, cardamom, and sandalwood. Archie remembered reading the label at one point and inwardly scoffing at the description, saying the perfume was inspired by Brazilian beaches and music. Supposedly to remind both the wearer and those around them of bossa nova, endless horizons, and vibrant, fruity, beachy notes. It had been marketed for years as a 'desert island scent', as in if you could only have one, this should be it.

A message that Treasure took to heart.

Archie took a deep breath, following the scent to the end of the alley before suddenly losing it in the open street. All at once, everything suddenly became louder and stronger, his ears overloading with the sounds of the city, forcing Archie to beat a hasty retreat back into the alley before Marrok suddenly departed from him.

"It's too much-" Archie panted, "I, I can't," He cried, slamming a frustrated fist against the ground only for Marrok to whimper slightly, empathizing with the young warlock before gently nudging Archie with his soft face. Marrok rubbed his nose against Archie's pocket, the grimoire disguised as a phone within letting off a pulse against Archie's leg as he nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I need to use the book," He gritted his teeth, standing as he tried to force his way through the splitting headache that had made its home in the seat vacated by Marrok. Rubbing a hand between the dog's ears, Archie turned towards the side door he had entered the alley from.

"I'll meet you back at the car," He told Marrok before opening the door and nearly running straight into Boz who immediately stopped upon seeing Archie.

"Hey, Superstar," Boz called to Archie before grabbing hold of his arm, "Come here a second," He said, motioning with his head before pulling Archie into a secluded corridor away from Harri.

"Look, I wasn't able to reach Detective Wilcox tonight, but the officer took the plate, and they'll definitely run it the minute they get the go-ahead. In the meantime, the best thing you can do is take Harri home, get her some food, maybe some sugar to help with the shock, and get her to rest." Boz explained, "The first twenty-four hours in a missing persons case is the most critical, and we're almost out of time, so I don't want to keep getting anyone's hopes up."

"Boz-"

"Sugar coating isn't going to help; there's a hard road ahead from this point. Ideally, we recover the girl, she comes home safely," Boz lowered his voice further, "I know you don't watch the news, but abductions like this, they've been happening around the city and those found." He paused, composing himself.

"Those found, the bodies are barely recognizable. No one has been recovered alive yet." Boz warned, straightening up.

"Be supportive, but under no circumstances promise Harri that we'll find her sister." He shook his head, "I just wish the D.A. would do something. So many of these cases piling up, how many more dead do we need before we can justify a task force, or hell, even bring in the Vanguard?"

"Alright," Archie nodded, "I'll drop Harri off at her place, but you've got to call me the second you hear from your contact."

"Cross my heart," Boz replied, putting a hand to his chest. He suddenly hugged Archie before speaking again. "Take care of yourself too. Make sure you eat and sleep as well, and don't try to shoulder all of this. Treasure is her own person, so is Harriet; they're not for Mr. Hardwick to constantly care for."

"I'll do my best," Archie replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his hand before Boz gave him a playful wink.

"Do me one better, WWBD, what would Boz do?"

"Take advantage of her compromised emotional state and get to second base?" Archie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Ouch, and gross." Boz answered, "I don't know who you're thinking like, but definitely don't do that." He clapped Archie on the back, "Go get Harri and get out of here." He insisted as Archie nodded again before walking through the Haunt towards where Harri was sitting. She was absently stirring a drink, not particularly interested in the alcohol in front of her, the drink apparently on the house.

"I, I should get you home," Archie managed to say before Harri looked up at him, her eyes red, tears still welled in the corner. She shook her head at his statement before replying.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," Harri said, looking straight into Archie's eyes, "Can I, can I stay with you?" She asked, "I really want to stay at your house tonight."

Archie looked back towards where Boz had been, noting that Carmilla was also now absent, before he turned his attention back to Harri.

"Uh, yeah," He answered.

NO!

His internal monologue screamed before Archie helped Harri to her feet. The pair departed the Haunt, driving in silence back across Milk Street. Marrok kept his head between the two front seats for the whole duration of the ride so he could rest it on Harri's lap. Once the trio had returned to Archie's apartment, Archie got Harri settled into his bedroom loft, making sure she was comfortable before returning with a snack in hand.

"Popcorn?" Archie asked, extending a bowl filled to the brim with freshly popped kernels.

"You still make popcorn every night?"

"It's my thinking food." He replied, turning on the television and selecting a movie.

"You know, we can watch other movies," Harri stated as Archie put on 'Pretty Woman'.

"Nonsense," He replied, "You have watched Pretty Woman every time you've been sick, sad, or otherwise upset for as long as I've known you." Archie explained as the opening music started in the background, "And if I know you, within five minutes-" He looked back at Harri, who was fast asleep already, the popcorn untouched.

"You'll be fast asleep."

No sooner had Harri's eyes closed than did Archie steal away from the loft back to the main floor of the apartment. He placed his phone on the desk, watching as it unfurled back into its native form, the pages of the heavy tome unfolding onto his desk while Archie opened a bag of red licorice twists beside the already half-devoured bowl of popcorn. Adjusting his glasses, Archie cracked his fingers excitedly before he flipped back to the last page he had read regarding the illumination spell.

Languages of all regions of the world covered the pages, their characters shifting to English as he worked, while Archie absorbed every piece of the ancient arcane texts. Hours passed, and night began to turn to dawn, the first rays of sun peeking through the frosted glass that made up the bulk of Archie's exterior facing wall. Too engrossed in the Grimoire, Archie failed to notice that Harri had stirred, descending the loft while sleepily rubbing her eyes.

Archie, meanwhile, stood, hand outstretched, while dark circles weighed down his eyes before speaking in a tongue that Harri didn't recognize, his hand flourishing before his fingers snapped and a blazing orb erupted seemingly from his palm.

"Holy $#!%!" Archie exclaimed, looking at the smouldering scorch mark on the block wall.

"I'm a wizard, Harri!"

-Archie meanwhile feeling useless, begins to scroll the Grimoire before being reminded of what Galloway said about his senses merging with Marrok's. Moving into the alley, Archie asks Marrok for help and his familiar allows Archie to tap into Marrok's sense of smell, only for it to be a deadend (at this time).
-Harri is worried, but Boz says there's nothing more they can do tonight. Harri insists on staying with Archie, falling asleep in his bed while Arche instead pours over the Grimoire, which transforms back into the book while Archie studies it.

#98FB98 - Harri
#606B8E - Boz
#9F6CB8 - Carmilla

Vanguard: Calder City

|| A_^RCHIE'S L_{^{OFT -}} W_^AMPANOAG A_^PARTMENT C_^OMPLEX

________________________________

Harri took a deep breath, watching while Archie moved to the bathroom before she turned around and made her way to towards the couch in the center of the apartment. She flopped down on the sofa, allowing it to cradle her before hanging her head in her hands and running her fingers through her hair. She couldn't believe she was turning to Archie Hardwick, of all people, for help. It wasn't that she didn't like Archie; they were friends and had been for a very long time, but Archie wasn't exactly someone she would have typically thought of in her hour of need. It's not like Archie to ride in at the eleventh hour and save the day. Girl. Okay, perhaps that wasn't entirely true. Archie had come to her rescue more times than Harri could count. Maybe it was the fact that when she pictured a knight in shining armour, the only image of Archie that came to her was him as the squire clumsily running alongside the knight's horse, futilely trying to keep up. Archie was like a kid brother, practically a sibling in every way, and Treasure was actually her sister. Maybe becoming a Junior Partner was the push that Archie needed to start maturing. Archie's loft apartment was a modest affair.

Sterile, concrete walls towered from the floor to the high ceilings, giving the Spartan space a void, if not a well-lit appearance. A large accent rug covered the majority of the main living space, doing little to hide the cement floor that sprawled from under it, reaching to each of the four walls. Situated on the Eastern edge of Milk Street, the Wampanoag Apartment complex was once an industrial space before being gentrified and turned into luxury apartments for about thirty seconds before the operating company went under and the building was slowly bankrolled between affordable and student living to recoup any and all income possible. While the units occupied small footprints, the building's tall rooms allowed for a mezzanine or loft style of unit, increasing living space by nearly fifty percent and giving the Wampanoag a unique draw for mature students and young working professionals.

The building had character, and given that the median age was younger, it was an active building full of life. Hallways often had the sound of music drifting from each unit, while the later hours of the day were filled with young adults excitedly going out for any one of Pointe Bordeaux's numerous nocturnal activities. Harri had crashed at Archie's place more than enough times to know just how much she enjoyed the quaint, out-of-the-way location, even to some degree, in comparison to her own luxury apartment in the Sound. The last of the day's light shone brightly against the tall, factory-style, frosted windows that remained intact from the original building. The sun fought to penetrate the translucent coating, only ever capable of fully entering through an open window. Each panel of the towering pane was capable of independent movement, allowing both light and airflow to enter the unit through the massive window frame. It encapsulated the entirety of the eighteen foot celling height, stretching from just about a foot above the floor to approximately an equal distance under the ceiling. Painted steel girders ran horizontally above the modest kitchenette and small corridor that led away to the enclosed bathroom neatly hidden behind it. Above the metalwork sat the loft, which housed Archie's bed, which was likely the most expensive item in the entire loft.

________________________________

In the time that Harri had known Archie, he had almost always bought secondhand. It had been her experience that Archie had always liked to pick items which, in his own words, looked like they had a story to tell. Despite being thrifted, everything inside his apartment was intentional, from the rug to the couch and apparently even to his new dog, Marrok, whose eyes told Harri of a thousand lifetimes that the mysterious black dog had already lived. There was one exception, however, Archie's towering bookshelves. A dominant feature of not only the main living space, but the entire loft, large built-in bookcases that covered the wall opposite the kitchenette, complete with a rail-mounted ladder for each access. Various titles from fiction to non-fiction, from how tos to various dabbles in psychology and religion, all filled the overbrimming bookcase. Despite how many books had been jammed into it, not a single one was out of place or looked to have suffered any form of abuse. Each was treasured, adored and respected.

________________________________

Harri couldn't help but smile as she leaned back into the carefully chosen and worn sofa; it smelled like Archie, and while she'd likely never admit it to him, there was a comfort that came from being around him. There was, after all, a reason they were still friends, and perhaps, if Harri was honest with herself for a second, perhaps there was a reason that she did so often turn to Archie in a crisis. She allowed herself to inhale the faint aroma of Archie's cologne again, hugging a pillow tightly before the strange, black dog jumped up beside her, stomping about in a circle before collapsing against her thigh and flopping its massive head onto her lap. "You're a funny guy," She stated, scratching the dog on his chin again while continuing to look around. If someone had asked Harri to describe Mark Twain's office, she would have likely shown them a picture of Archie's apartment. Deep, dark chocolatey hardwood dominated the shelves and accent furniture while numerous books were spread across both the coffee tables and the desk, each in the midst of being lovingly enjoyed. While no expense was spared when it came to the books and his personal work station, everything else was painfully spartan. The kitchen, in particular, was functional, but that was it. There were no signs of any affection given to cooking, no quirky mugs, nor even seemingly any plates or cutlery for guests. The fortress-like walls of the apartment lacked any sort of art or mementos, with the only picture in Harri's immediate view being a small frame kept atop a functional table beside the door.

Harri stood up from the couch, gingerly walking over towards the picture on her tiptoes as though she was sneaking through the room she had clearly been invited to stay in. Picking up the frame, a small smile crept across her glossed lips. It was a picture of her and Archie at their graduation. She was looking straight into the camera, smiling brightly while Archie; Archie was looking only at her. Harri brushed the back of her fingers against her neck. Suddenly feeling slightly flustered before turning around. The bathroom door was ajar, and Archie had his shirt off. Harri had to stop herself from letting out an audible gasp at the sight of his bare torso. Despite his slender build, she was taken aback by the actual definition of his body. She stifled a small gasp, her eyes staring far longer than she knew she should before Archie suddenly broke the silence. "Ready to go?" Archie called absently, his eyes looking elsewhere, seemingly unaware of Harri's intrusion before she hastily scampered back to the couch, her eyes meeting Marrok's, who had been watching her the entire time. Her heart felt like it was moving a mile a minute, her pulse quickening as she felt like a schoolgirl who had been caught peeking in the boy's locker room. The dog looked at her again, his jaw open, giving him the appearance of an ear-to-ear grin while his brow twitched in a way that gave him the appearance of raising a knowing eyebrow towards Harri. "Yeah, definitely," Harri replied, breaking eye contact with Marrok before composing herself as though she had been sitting on the couch the entire time. There was no way that Archie had seen her looking at him. She didn't think, at least. There was no way Archie Hardwick, of all people, could play it that cool if he had thought she was checking him out. Exiting the bathroom, Archie adjusted his new shirt before grabbing a jacket and awkwardly smiling at Harri. She felt her cheeks threatening to flush further before hurrying out the door with Marrok as Archie locked up behind them.

O<sub><sup>nce was a man who lived a life so mundane, it could only be true.

_
_
_
_
_
Practically invisible to the world around him, life carries on while he felt perpetually stuck treading water just to keep his head

_
_
afloat. Fortunately for the man, fate had different ideas and intervened with a heavy hand. Pushed into a corner, the man

_
_
was driven to hide amongst dusty shelves and heavy tomes. In the silence, he could hear his name being whispered,

_
_
over and over again, until his hand touched one particular opus. A worn book, bound in leather and tarnished steel. Though

_
_
sealed, it opened for a price, and upon spreading its pages, the man's life was changed forever.
_
_
_
_
_
_
Now, he is the Warlock they call...</sup></sub>

---

---

---

---

LOCATION: THE WAMPANOAG APARTMENT COMPLEX - MILK STREET

URBAN GOTHIC #1.12: HUNT

---

INTERACTIONS: SCOTT KNIGHT - @Captain Uni, LUCY WILCOX (PHONECALL) - @Sep

PREVIOUSLY: HAVEN

Archie had stared at his own reflection in the mirror every day for as long as he could remember. He knew every inch of his face like he knew the tale of Alexander Dumas' Musketeers. Archie knew exactly where his grey hairs were, like how he knew the first page Abraham Van Helsing appeared in Stoker's Dracula. But for the first time, Archie was unfamiliar with the eyes that stared back at him. Normally, he would have chalked it up to tiredness, a long night followed by an ever-expanding day. There was nothing he wanted to do more than go upstairs and collapse into the bed he had saved for over three years to buy. Harri had teased him at one point for having more pillows on the bed than he did, combined between sheets, blankets and the duvet. But no, as he stared, it wasn't tiredness; there was something still beyond the dark circles that hung beneath his green eyes. There was a glimmer of confidence he had never seen before. A shift in how his spin supported his shoulders, and yet, Archie couldn't help but feel like he should be buried in regret. The tap began to steam as the water warmed. He splashed it on his face, feeling the heat soothe each and every pore across his cheeks and forehead. Suddenly, his nose crinkled in disgust, an acrid smell polluting his nostrils. His eyes opened wide, and terror flooded his being. He could feel the floorboards of Galloway's shop as a fist came towards him. Words of a language he knew he didn't know flew out of his mouth, conjuring flames from his fingertips as Archie dropped the Dragon's charred corpse to the ground. The body bags from this morning. Screams rang in his ears, and dark blurs became clearer as memories seemingly began to unlock from the fog that had haunted his brain for most of the day. The Dragons retreated while Marrok drove them back, diving between gouts of flame and crackling bolts of lightning as the spells freely left Archie's hands until suddenly he collapsed amidst the dropped bodies. I killed them? They were just men, normal men. He ran for the toilet, barely reaching it in time to lift the lid and seat as the greasy breakfast with Boz made a surprise reappearance. Hot tears welled in the corner of his eyes before he managed to pull himself off the floor. He couldn't let Harri see him like this, not while Treasure was missing. Innocent men. Ripping the shirt off, Archie returned to the mirror, standing bare-chested in front of it as he swore the memories of last night could never be revealed to anyone. They weren't innocent; they couldn't be. The Dragons had attacked him, they had tried to sell him drugs, and he refused. It was self-defence; he had already been released by the police, and the city would be better with a few fewer trafficking gangbangers in it. This was not his fault. Archie had to justify it to himself. He couldn't let himself be bogged down by guilt. There just wasn't time for him to wallow. Whatever happened in Galloway's shop last night was between him, Marrok and the dead now. He gripped the edges of the sink tighter. He needed everything to slow down; Archie needed time to think, to read and to study. If this Grimoire was capable of making him commit murder, then he would need to learn to control it. A noise outside the door reminded Archie of the task at hand, and he hurriedly threw some toothpaste on his brush before cleaning his teeth. "Ready to go?" He called before grabbing another shirt he had left in the bathroom. He gave it a quick sniff test before throwing it on. "Yeah, definitely," Came Harri's reply before Archie rushed out, adjusting his shirt before motioning for Marrok to follow as the three left the apartment. It was already after six in the evening before Archie and Harri made their way out of his apartment and hastened through the building towards his car. It wasn't much; a small sedan more than a few years older than what would have retained any sort of value. It's what had allowed Archie to buy a luxury-branded vehicle, even if most of its luxuries had given up the ghost prior to purchasing. But it was reliable where it counted and could take a beating. Like any young man, Archie would have liked to buy himself a much nicer car, but being an associate wasn't exactly a huge paycheque. Perhaps if he could hold on to his promotion to Junior Partner, a new car would be in his future. Or you could use mag'ik, idiot. Or, he could start using mag'ik to solve all of his problems. Responsibility be damned, nothing bad ever came of abusing near-limitless cosmic powers. It's not like the Grimoire, or Galloway cautioned him against using these abilities for personal gain. A twinge of guilt caused Archie to wince before his inner voice even began to scold him. It's not like you already have a body count. "I forgot that you drive like my grandma," Harri bemoaned from beside Archie, who was brought back out of autopilot to the actual situation at hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Marrok snicker in the rear-view mirror. "I-uh," "Could you make an exception?" Harri pleaded, "Just this once, for Tess." "I'll see what I can do," Archie answered before reluctantly pushing down harder on the accelerator and watching the speedometer climb to five miles above the posted limit. An exasperated breath escaped from between Harri's lips, but she didn't complain further, the car falling into an awkward silence as it made its way through the district. Bosley was already waiting by the time Archie had found parking for his modest sedan. Parking around the corner from the Haunt, Archie and Harri made their way quickly along Milk Street. While most of the day had already elapsed, it was still too early for the club crowd, meaning the neo-industrial bar was practically empty save for a few regulars who were sitting along the bar rail. Even the DJ hadn't finished setting up for the night, Archie observed while he watched the man clad in the theatrical, angular helmet supervising a couple of sound technicians as they ran his cords and set up his station.

"Hey, Stud, didn't think I'd see you again until Saturday," Boz greeted jovially, before allowing his expression to become more solemn. "Harriet, I'm sorry about your sister, but I promise you I'm going to do everything I can to ensure I get her back." "Thank you, Tom," Harri replied as the two quickly exchanged a side hug. Archie couldn't help but recall Boz's words from this morning, his eyes looking between the pair as they embraced in an obligatory manner, wondering if Boz was playing nice solely for Archie's sake or if there was genuine emotion behind the gesture. "Alright, Archie, find your bartender friend." Harri ordered as Boz raised an eyebrow at the comment. Archie knew there was no way that Boz missed how Harri's words had practically bristled at the mention of Carmilla. "What's this about a bartender?" Boz asked excitedly while Harri crossed her arms in front of her. Her eyes wandered around the Haunt, looking anywhere but towards the bar where the dark-haired, caramel-skinned woman in question was currently polishing pint glasses. "I, uh, hit, er, chatted. No, I, ah, made a friend with the bartender over there, Carmilla." He finally spat out as Boz clapped him on the back. Tom grinned from ear to ear, speaking intentionally loud enough that there was no mistaking that Harri had to have heard every word Boz said.

________________________________

"You dog, she's absolutely gorgeous." Boz applauded, "Atta boy, I knew you had it in you, but word of advice, don't date bartenders. Especially ones that work at the Haunt." He smiled. "Remind me to only go to the Velvet Room from now on," Harri muttered beneath her breath while Archie scrambled to change the subject. "I, I think it's important that we-" Archie started before Harri viciously cut him off, spitting venom towards Bosley. "We're here to find Treasure, not set up Archie with the bimbo bartender, so let's say on subject, please, Thomas." "Yes, Ma'am," Boz retorted with a mock salute. "Well, Superstar, why don't we go reintroduce ourselves and see if we can't find out something about Miss Huffy's sister?" "I'm not 'huffy', and you're being insensitive." Harri snapped back. Archie found himself suddenly very torn between his two closest friends. "If you're not actually here to help, then you can leave." "Harri-" "Aren't you supposed to be talking to the bartender?" Harri snapped, turning on Archie as he tried to interject. Archie, for the first time in his life, felt his fists curl as Harri turned her venom on him. The hairs on the back of his neck started to bristle while she laid into him. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair. They were there to help here and Archie of all people treated Treasure with every bit of love and respect that he had for Harri herself. "ENOUGH!" He barked suddenly. A hush fell over what few patrons were inside the Haunt at this hour. "We're both here to help you find Treasure, and this bickering isn't accomplishing anything. I'm going to go ask Carmilla if she saw anything last night; you and Boz are going to stay here and make up. Whether you like it or not, Boz has connections through the D.A.'s office that can help, connections we don't have. So yeah, we need him, and I'd like you both to start getting along. Treasure's like a sister to me too, Harri, I know you're stressed, but we're going to find her-" "Stud, I want to bring her home, but we can't promise-" "No, Boz." Archie tightened his fist. He could feel the hum of the Grimoire in his pocket. "We're bringing her home." He stated matter-of-factly. The tone of the normally meek, mild-mannered lawyer left no room for argument as he stood his ground. "You're both my closest friends, and I am asking you, and I never ask for anything, to please get along for one night. I hope you both can find some commonality by the time I get back." He added before storming off towards the barrail. Archie's hands were shaking like a leaf; he had never yelled at Boz before, and for Harri, this was somehow now the second time in twenty-four hours. Never before in his life had he so badly wanted a drink, but the situation wouldn't allow for it as he strode directly towards Carmilla. Checking his breath as he approached, Archie straightened his shirt again before quickly tousling his hair and then combing it with his fingers. Reluctantly satisfied with his appearance being as good as it was going to get, he opened his mouth to address the raven-haired woman, only for her to greet him first. "I didn't think I'd see you again so soon," Carmilla purred, a smile crossing her glossy, wine-coloured lips as she rested her elbows on the countertop and cradled her head in her hands, looking up at Archie. Perfectly drawn cat eyeliner accented her doe-like dark eyes. Archie was taken aback for a moment, seemingly recalling that the woman had blue-hued violet eyes the night before. "I mean, I was hoping," She smiled, batting her eyes before continuing, "You look like you could use a drink. Your usual?" "N-no, thank you," Archie managed to stammer, "I uh, actually need a favour." "I wouldn't consider that a favour," Carmilla winked, edging herself closer to Archie, who suddenly felt very hot under the collar. She traced a finger along the back of one of his hands, and it felt like an electric current was suddenly running through his body. In his pocket, the Grimoire began to hum intensely against his thigh, sending further currents through his body as Archie tried to focus. He couldn't deny his attraction to Carmilla. Her confidence, the way she carried herself, and the way she was dressed in a figure-hugging leather corset top paired with a matching pair of skin-tight pants. It left little to the imagination, and perhaps that was why even in the dim lighting of the club, amidst the diffusion of crimson and copper, Archie spotted for the first time the smoky crystal pommel atop an ebony wood rod snugly holstered on the waist-line of the low-rise pants that gave way to a pair of narrow, lace-adored, silk straps that snugly hugged defined hip bones and teased Archie with the prospect of seeing so much more of Carmilla's wardrobe. His eyes flashed back to the similar object mounted above the counter at Galloway's shop before he suddenly took a step back, his hand moving to his pocket protectively. "Ha, ha-ha," He laughed nervously, "A-a-actually, it's Harri. Her, uh, her sister was here last night, and she's missing. Would you have seen anything?" Archie asked as Carmilla continued to stare at him like a wolf who had entrapped a deer. "Do you have a picture?" Carmilla asked, standing up as Archie fumbled for his phone. He cautiously reached for the disguised grimoire, keeping a tight grip on the faux device before pulling it from his pocket, hoping it could produce what he needed. Do I have a picture of Treasure? Responding to his need, the grimoire produced an image of Treasure, pulling her visage from his mind's eye rather than the connected cloud like a regular phone would have. Treasure was strikingly similar to Harri in many ways; they were, after all, sisters. But her face took more after her father's, giving her more of an oval face shape compared to Harri's heart-shaped one. Her hair was highlighted blonde, a stark difference from her older sister, but the pair shared the same nose and unmistakable dark eyes. Treasure notably had a beauty mark above her upper lip on the right side of her mouth, something that Archie had always thought was rather cute. "I serve a lot of people each night, can't say her face stands out," Carmilla answered flatly before standing from the counter. She watched Archie's eyes intently before reaching behind and pulling a suede jacket over her shoulders. Her hands subtly reached behind her and ensured the coat covered her waist. "A lot of 'pretty' girls come through her, comes with the proximity to the L.H.C." "The people she was with," Archie started, doing his best to feign ignorance at how Carmilla was using the jacket to hide what Archie could only assume was a 'conduit'. "Uh, the people she was with were likely rowdier; she's been hanging out with a rough crowd." "Then you'd be better off asking a server," Carmilla replied, seemingly bored with the conversation, while she rubbed her arms, pretending to warm herself. "Scott Knight was working last night; he's the one standing over there." She added, pointing towards a moderately tall and toned young man with tight dark curls. "If he recognizes your friend's sister, I can take a look at the cameras, but without a witness, it'd be just like looking for a needle in a haystack." She shrugged, "You should be more careful with that," Carmilla suddenly added, looking at Archie's phone. He froze, his lips opening, but no sound came out as he found himself unable to move. "Since you lost your last one," Carmilla suddenly smiled, "That's a different phone from last night, and you're holding it so tightly I'm afraid you'll crush it." She teased, a mischievous smile crossing her face as Archie relaxed slightly. "I can't give you my number if you keep losing your phone, gorgeous." "R-right, of course," Archie stammered, "I-I'll be right back," He replied before rushing over to Harri and pointing out Scott. "Carmilla suggested we talk to that server over there, said he was working last night and might have seen Treasure, especially if the people she was with were making a scene." Harri had initially crossed her arms as Archie had returned. He looked between her and Boz, the tension in the air still palpable. But it didn't appear that they had argued any further while Archie had been talking to Carmilla. Boz offered an apologetic smile as Harri slowly lowered her arms, a slight sigh of relief loosening her shoulders before she responded. "Thanks, Arch," She said softly, "For what it's worth, it really does look like the bartender is into you." Archie shook his head. "Let's not dwell on that right now," Archie replied, still feeling like Carmilla was watching him as his eyes kept picturing the conduit stored on her belt below her lower back. Her lips are devil-red, and her skin's the colour of mocha "We've got to get Treasure back before anything happens to her, and it looks like Scott Knight is our best chance." He reiterated, "Did you happen to see who Treasure was with?" "Yeah," Harri replied, looking one more time at Carmilla and back to Archie, clearly confused about how quickly he had dismissed the beautiful bartender. A small smile crossed her face as Archie focused on Treasure again, and Harri tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before answering further. "They looked like athletes, Coyotes maybe?" Harri offered as the pair approached Scott.

"Hockey players, the worst." Archie deadpanned. "Excuse me," Harri started, tapping the young man on the shoulder, "Are you Scott Knight?" The young man jumped slightly and looked over his shoulder, as if shaken from a stupor. “Oh! Uh…” "Carmilla, uh, pointed us towards you," Archie added, gesturing back towards the buxom bartender. “Oh. Sorry, was uh… Stuck in my own head. Yeah, I’m Scott,” he said, turning around to face them fully. He set down the rag he had been using to wipe tables and crossed his arms. He tried to give a friendly smile, but it fell flat on his face. “What can I help you with?” We're looking for my sister," Harri said, holding up her phone towards Scott, "She was in here last night, but she's gone missing. I think she was with some members of the Calder Coyotes, the hockey team. Did you happen to see her at all? Or see anything really?" She asked. "I'm Archie, and this is Harri," Archie added before pointing to Bosley, who was waiting for them a couple of paces back. "And that's Boz; he's with the D.A.'s office." Why'd you feel the need to say that? Now he's not going to talk to you, idiot. At the mention of Boz's employer, the DJ across the room perked up, locking his eyes onto Boz. Archie caught the glare that the man shot Boz from across the room, watching as the DJ's eyes narrowed, studying Boz as a jaguar would study a deer before pouncing. A shiver ran down Archie's spine before his attention was brought back to Scott. He was studying the photo on Harri’s phone intently before turning back to her and nodding. “I’m pretty sure I recognize her. I think her table was one of the ones I served last night. She was really nice… Can’t say the same for the guys she was with.” "What about the guys?” Harri asked, her curiosity piqued. “Er, uh, more importantly,” Archie interjected, “Do you, uh, remember what time and approximately what table?” He asked, gesturing broadly across the Haunt. Scott opened his mouth to reply to Harri, then turned to Archie. Nodding, he pointed over to a booth along the wall with a clear view of the dance floor. “That one. It was probably about six thirty or so when they came in. I had just clocked in like half an hour before I started serving them. They were there for most of the night, different people heading out to the dance floor or heading back to the table when I’d come around every ten minutes or so. She was there most of the time. Really nice, like I said.” He turned back to Harri. “And like I said, the guys were assholes.” "Hockey players, the worst," Archie repeated. “Hopefully, that, uh, should be enough for Carmilla to narrow it down on the cameras.” “Yeah, she should be able to do that for you. If it helps, there was a lot of shouting around one AM near that booth. I saw a girl heading out the side door after that. Pretty sure it was her.” “I think that’s exactly wh-” “Thank you so much!” Harri blurted out while lunging forward. Interrupting Archie, she stepped past him and wrapped her arms around Scott in a tight hug. Scott fumbled slightly before awkwardly patting Harri on the back. “Uh, yeah, no problem. Hope you guys find her.” Harri released the younger man before the pair rejoined Boz, and the trio made their way over to the barrail. Boz playfully nudged Archie in the ribcage upon approaching Carmilla, finally getting a close-up look at the beauty that had Archie acting bashful and Harri like her thong was in a twist.

________________________________

"Uh, h-hi again," Archie said nervously as he approached Carmilla with Boz and Harri in tow. "We talked to Scott, and he said there was a commotion around 1 AM that led to a girl storming out the side door. Said he never saw her enter again." Carmilla nodded. "That I can work with." She smiled, waving for the trio to follow me. "The manager's office is back here. We can take a look at the cameras at that time and see what we can find." "You know," Carmilla spoke again, turning to look Archie in the eye, "You really should give me your phone so I can put my number in it." She stated, less as a suggestion and more as a demand. Boz's jaw dropped slightly at the woman's forwardness before he looked to Harri, who was doing her best to not show the steam that was threatening to come out of her ears. "You're enjoying this too much," She muttered out the side of her mouth towards Boz. "A little," He replied with a wink. "Do you hear her? She's throwing herself at him like some kind of sl-" "Carmilla, you're a very forward woman." Boz interjected, cutting Harri off while attempting to rescue Archie as the foursome entered the office.

"If a woman knows what they want, why shouldn't she be?" Camilla retorted, a smirk spreading across crimson lips. "See, that's the problem with women today, they don't make moves and get upset when others do. It's only until they can't have something, so they realize they want it." She didn't even turn to look at Boz while speaking, her accent thickening the longer she spoke. Archie hadn't noticed it before, but beneath her English were subtleties in her enunciation and intonation that indicated the American tongue was not, in fact, her first. Moving directly across the office, she approached the large display of monitors mounted on the nearby wall, then pushed the desk chair out of her way. "Unlike me, I know what I want, and I get it." Carmilla stated before ditching her jacket and leaning over the keyboard connected to the security monitors. The back of her corset was neatly cinched with a ribbon that matched her dark lipstick as the boned garment enhanced her already accentuated figure into a picture-perfect hourglass. Leaning downward over the desk onto her elbows, Carmilla arched her back seductively to further illustrate her point, not only to Archie but also to Harri. Archie felt himself swallow hard, a nervous lump forming in his throat as Carmilla's already cropped corset rose, fully revealing the small of her back and sun-kissed, caramel skin above the waistline of the low-rise leather pants again. Bat-like wings were etched across her skin, the gothic tattoo snuggled between the pair of tantalizing temptations that were her shimmering, silk straps of her barely-there-underwear. They drew his attention exactly to where he wanted to look, but to Archie's surprise, the conduit from earlier was nowhere to be seen. Had Carmilla ditched her weapon, or did Galloway have Archie paranoid and seeing threats where there were none? He couldn't say for certain, not with his lack of sleep and rapid transpiring of events in the last twenty-four hours. "There." Carmilla pointed as Harri took a step closer. "Yeah, that's definitely Tess." Harri replied, "What's she doing?" She asked, watching her sister on the screen, before she suddenly exited through the side door. "Do you have any exterior cameras?" Boz asked. "Getting there, Cowboy." Carmilla replied flatly, "Americans, always so impatient." The monitors changed to an exterior shot of the Haunt. Treasure was standing outside playing with her vape while leaning against a wall. Suddenly, a black van approached, stopping abruptly before its doors opened, and two men roughly pulled Treasure inside. "No! no, no, no." Harri's voice quivered as she continued to watch, unable to look away as the black van with the circular emblem departed from the frame. "Wait," Boz instructed. "Can you roll it back frame by frame?" He asked as Carmilla nodded and began to do so. "There!" Boz exclaimed as Carmilla paused the video again. "There's a partial plate. I've got contacts in the detective's department who can run that plate. Maybe we'll get a hit." "That'll take too much time," Harri protested. "It's the best we've got right now," Boz argued before pulling his cell out of his pocket and heading towards the door to make the call. Archie stared intently at the screen before looking at Harri, who was doing her best not to cry. Boz exchanged a knowing glance with Archie while Archie awkwardly tried to hold Harri, who shrugged off his embrace. "Yes, hello. I need to speak with Detective Wilcox." Boz's voice echoed behind him while he moved into the hallway. "No, I will not hold; it's regarding the missing persons case. Tell her A.D.A. Thomas Bosley is on the line. I have a partial plate for a vehicle suspected to be involved in the abduction." Archie looked from Harri back to Boz in the hallway and then to Carmilla, who had propped herself up on her elbows against the desk. He hated feeling helpless. If Harri had given him the night to think things through and work on the Grimoire, then maybe there would have been a chance he could have helped. But as it were, he was just who he had always been. A loser. "If there was nothing else," Carmilla commented, "I do have to get back to work, for what it's worth, I do hope you find the girl, though." She added, pausing on her way past Archie. "Also, you're not a loser, and you're already more capable than you think," Carmilla whispered in Archie's ear, her hot breath sending a shiver down his spine. "Say hi to the dog for me." She called before leaving the office. "Whether you realize it or not, you're learning to use your familiar. It's the first step any mage makes. Even as we speak, your senses are synchronizing to its own." Galloway's words echoed in Archie's head. There was something he had to be able to do after all. He moved to let Harri know he was stepping outside, but opted to just awkwardly exit the room, not wanting to be shrugged off again. Passing Boz on the way out, Archie and Boz exchanged a quick nod before Boz tapped him on the shoulder and stopped him. "Hey, I don't know what your plans are with Carmilla, but uh, be careful." He cautioned, "I can't put my finger on it, but she has a certain je ne said quoi about her." Bosley smiled sadly. Archie nodded before walking off, leaving Boz, who was anxiously waiting for a call back. If he had been more aware of his surroundings, Tom might have noticed the glaring eyes of Mikołajek Kamiński staring at him from across the room. The artist brought his cellphone out of his pocket, snapping a quick picture of Bosley before lifting the rat-like mask over his head. Tapping his hand against his thigh, Mikołajek began to compose a melody, a new song come to him, his eyes unwaveringly fixed on Bosley. Memories of the lawyers and city officials who failed his mother, turning his blood red hot. "If the D.A. is going to poke around, then it's time to show this city just how corrupt its protectors are." A record scratch filled the Haunt before the bass dropped. "LET'S GET WRETCHED!"

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

-Solar Weapons
-Carmilla, where is she from? Who is her teacher? How old is she?
-Galloway is over 500 years old, means he was born in 1500s (Renaissance era).
-Carmilla is connected to a Roman goetist and a Striga Buxa (Strigoi mort), the Seventh Sister in her family, lived a life of sin, and unmarried before dying by suicide.
-Emyrs was an Anglo-Saxon Wizard, born around 400 AD, trained Auber who began life as a viking skald in approximately the tenth century.
-Auber trained Galloway and Galloway took over the training of Mayhew who was already a Warlock in his own right prior to meeting Galloway.

Vanguard: Calder City

<Snipped quote by Stormyx>

Making you track this alone is almost enough reason to bring Pica back.

@Roman

Vanguard: Calder City

If anyone is interested in some deep character research I've done this afternoon, I've started the list of food and drink consumed by the characters.

I may have missed some, please let me know. I will continue to update this for reference. xx

Coffee is currently the number one enjoyed item.

Eve - Spaghetti, Red Wine, Midori Martini, Cappuccino, Coffee, Tablespoon of Tiramisu, Pad Kee Mao (is not seen eating it), Sazerac, Cognac Sazerac

Ace - Coffee, Stray Fries, Stick of Beef Jerky

Joanie - Rum and Coke, Coffee, Lavender Tea

Brett - Tea, A Pint, Whisky, Beer

Dani - Coffee, Topo Chico, Fresh Mujudarra (is not seen eating it)

Marth - Lavender Tea, Creamy Sugar Violets

Dusk - Bacon Cheeseburger and Fries, Earl Grey Tea

Qing - Chicken Burger and Fries

Lucie - Tea

Archie - Coke Zero and Amaretto (3, possibly 5), Two Eggs, Bacon, Sausage Link, Ham, Home Fries, Orange Juice, Coffee

Pica - Crisp Packet, Tennis Ball, Brick, Glass, Loose Bolts, Foam Packing Peanuts, Piece of Flag, Traffic Cone Piece, Street Sign. Omelette, Cola, Coffee

Sienna - Black Coffee, The Mercer Cocktail, Beer, Pancakes, Black Coffee, Coffee, Cocktails

Solomon - Coffee

Currently red plumbob/no food or drink
Paladin -
Yulian -
Michelle -
Rock -

@Stormyx

I appreciate that you and I have the same flavour of 'tism.

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

#98FB98 - Harri
#606B8E - Boz
#9F6CB8 - Carmilla
#16B15B - RR

|| A_^RCHIE'S L_{^{OFT -}} W_^AMPANOAG A_^PARTMENT C_^OMPLEX

________________________________

Harri took a deep breath, watching while Archie moved to the bathroom before she turned around and made her way to towards the couch in the center of the apartment. She flopped down on the sofa, allowing it to cradle her before hanging her head in her hands and running her fingers through her hair. She couldn't believe she was turning to Archie Hardwick, of all people, for help. It wasn't that she didn't like Archie, they were friends and had been for a very long time but Archie wasn't exactly someone she would have typically thought of in her hour of need. It's not like Archie to ride in at the eleventh hour and save the day. Girl. Okay, perhaps that wasn't entirely true. Archie had come to her rescue more times than Harri could count. Maybe it was the fact that when she pictured a knight in shining armour, the only image of Archie that came to her was him as the squire clumsily running alongside the knight's horse, futilely trying to keep up. Archie was like a kid brother, practically a sibling in every way that Treasure was actually her sister. Maybe becoming a Junior Partner was the push that Archie needed to start maturing. Archie's loft apartment was a modest affair.

Sterile, concrete walls towered from floor to the high ceilings, giving the Spartan space a void, if not well lit appearance. A large accent rug covered the majority of the main living space, doing little to hide the cement floor the sprawled from under it reaching to each of the four walls. Situated on the Eastern edge of Milk Street, the Wampanoag Apartment complex was once an industrial space before being gentrified and turned into luxury apartments for about thirty seconds before the operating company went under and the building was slowly bankrolled between affordable and student living to recoup any and all income possible. While the units occupied small footprints, the building's tall rooms allowed for a mezzanine or loft style of unit increasing living space by nearly fifty percent and giving the Wampanoag a unique draw for mature students and young working professionals.

The building had character and given the median age was younger, it was an active building full of life. Hallways often had the sound of music drifting from each unit, while the later hours of the day were filled with young adult excitedly going out for any one of Pointe Bordeaux's numerous nocturnal activities. Harri had crashed at Archie's place more than enough times to know just how much she enjoyed the quaint out of the way location, even to some degree, in comparison of her own luxury apartment in the Sound. The last of the day's light shone brightly against the tall factory-style, frosted windows that remained intact form the original building. The sun fought to penetrate the translucent coating, only ever capable of fully entering through an open window. Each panel of the towering pane was capable of independent movement, allowing both light and airflow to enter the unit through the massive window frame. It encapsulating the entirety of the eighteen foot celling height, stretching from just about a foot above the floor to approximately an equal distance under the ceiling. Painted, steel girders ran horizontally above the modest kitchenette and small corridor that led away to the enclosed bathroom neatly hidden behind it. Above the metalwork sat the loft which housed Archie's bed which was likely the most expensive item in the entire loft.

________________________________

In the time that Harri had known Archie, he had almost always bought secondhand. It had been her experience that Archie had always like to pick items, which, in his own words, looked like they had a story to tell. Despite being thrifted, everything inside his apartment was intentional, from the rug, to the couch and apparently even to his new dog, Marrok, whose eyes told Harri of a thousand life times that the mysterious black dog had already lived. There was one exception however, Archie's towering bookshelves. A dominant feature of not only the main living space, but the entire loft, large built in bookcases covered the wall opposite the kitchenette, complete with a rail mounted ladder for each access. Various titles from fiction to non-fiction, from how tos to various dabbles in psychology and religion all filled the overbrimming bookcase. Despite how many books had been jammed into it, not a single one was out of place or looked to have suffered any form of abuse. Each was treasured, adored and respected.

________________________________

Harri couldn't help but smile as she leaned back into the carefully chosen and worn sofa; it smelled like Archie, and while she'd likely never admit it to him, there was a comfort that came from being around him. There was after all a reason they were still friends and perhaps, if Harri was honest with herself for a second, perhaps there was a reason that she did so often turn to Archie in a crisis. She allowed herself to inhale the faint aroma of Archie's cologne again, hugging a pillow tightly before the strange, black dog jumped up beside her, stomping about in a circle before collapsing against her thigh and flopping its massive head onto her lap. "You're a funny guy," She stated, scratching the dog on his chin again while continuing to look around. If someone had asked Harri to describe Mark Twain's office, she would have likely shown them a picture of Archie's apartment. Deep, dark chocolatey hardwood dominated the shelves and accent furniture while numerous books were spread across both the coffee tables and desk, each in the midst of being lovingly enjoyed. While no expense was spared when it came to the books and his personal work station, everything else was painfully spartan. The kitchen, in particular, was functional, but that was it. There was no signs of any affection given to cooking, no quirky mugs, nor even seemingly any plates or cutlery for guests. The fortress-like walls of the apartment lacked any sort of art or mementos, with the only picture in Harri's immediate view being a small frame kept atop a functional table beside the door.

Harri stood up from the couch, gingerly walking over towards the picture on her tiptoes as though she was sneaking through the room she had clearly been invited to stay in. Picking up the frame, a small smile crept across her glossed lips. It was a picture of her and Archie at their graduation. She was looking straight into the camera, smiling brightly while Archie; Archie was looking only at her. Harri brushed the back of her fingers against her neck. Suddenly feeling slightly flustered before turning around. The bathroom door was ajar, and Archie had his shirt off. Harri had to stop herself from letting out an audible gasp at the sight of his bare torso. Despite his slender build, she was taken aback by the actual definition of his body. She stifled a small gasp, her eyes staring far longer than she knew she should before Archie suddenly broke the silence. "Ready to go?" Archie called absently, his eyes looking elsewhere seemingly unaware of Harri's intrusion before she hastily scampered back to the couch, her eyes meeting Marrok's, who had been watching her the entire time. Her heart felt like it was moving a mile a minute, her pulse quickening as she felt like a schoolgirl who had been caught peeking in the boy's locker room. The dog looked at her again, his jaw open giving him the appearance of an ear to ear grin while his brow twitched in a way that gave him the appearance of raising a knowing eyebrow towards Harri. "Yeah, definitely," Harri replied breaking eye contact with Marrok before composing herself as though she had been sitting on the couch the entire time. There was no way that Archie had seen her looking at him. She didn't think, at least. There was no way Archie Hardwick of all people could play it that cool if he had thought she was checking him out. Exiting the bathroom, Archie adjusted his new shirt before grabbing a jacket and awkwardly smiling at Harri. She felt her cheeks threatening to flush further before hurrying out the door with Marrok as Archie locked up behind them.

O<sub><sup>nce was a man who lived a life so mundane, it could only be true.

_
_
_
_
_
Practically invisible to the world around him, life carries on while he felt perpetually stuck treading water just to keep his head

_
_
afloat. Fortunately for the man, fate had different ideas and intervened with a heavy hand. Pushed into a corner, the man

_
_
was driven to hide amongst dusty shelves and heavy tomes. In the silence, he could hear his name being whispered,

_
_
over and over again, until his hand touched one particular opus. A worn book, bound in leather and tarnished steel. Though

_
_
sealed, it opened for a price, and upon spreading its pages, the man's life was changed forever.
_
_
_
_
_
_
Now, he is the Warlock they call...</sup></sub>

---

---

---

---

LOCATION: THE WAMPANOAG APARTMENT COMPLEX - MILK STREET

URBAN GOTHIC #1.12: HUNT

---

INTERACTIONS: SCOTT KNIGHT - @CAPTAIN UNI

PREVIOUSLY: HAVEN

Archie had stared at his own reflection in the mirror every day for as long as he could remember. He knew every inch of his face like he knew the tale of Alexander Dumas' Musketeers. Archie knew exactly where his grey hairs were, like how he knew the first page Abraham Van Helsing appeared in Stoker's Dracula. But for the first time, Archie was unfamiliar with the eyes that stared back at him. Normally he would have chalked it up to tiredness, a long night followed by an ever expanding day. There was nothing he wanted to do more than go upstairs and collapse into the bed he had saved for over three years to buy. Harri had teased him at one point for having more pillows on the bed than he did combined between sheets, blankets and the duvet. But no, as he stared, it wasn't tiredness, there was something still beyond the dark circles that hung beneath his green eyes. There was a glimmer of confidence he had never seen before. A shift in how his spin supported his shoulders and yet, Archie couldn't help but feel like he should be buried in regret. The tap began to steam as the water warmed. He splashed it on his face, feeling the heat soothe each and every pore across his cheeks and forehead. Suddenly, his nose crinkled in disguise, an acrid smell polluting his nostrils. His eyes opened wide and terror flooded his being. He could feel the floorboards of Galloway's shop as a fist came towards him. Words of a language he knew he didn't know flew out of his mouth, conjuring flames from his finger tips as Archie dropped the Dragon's charred corpse to the ground. The body bags from this morning. Screams rang in his ears, dark blurs became clearer as memories seemingly began to unlock from the fog that had haunted his brain for most of the day. The Dragons retreating while Marrok drove them back, diving between gouts of flame and crackling bolts of lightning as the spells freely left Archie's hands until suddenly he collapsed amidst the dropped bodies. I killed them? They were just men, normal men. He ran for the toilet, barely reaching it in time to lift the lid and seat as the greasy breakfast with Boz made a surprise reappearance. Hot tears welled in the corner of his eyes before he managed to pull himself off the floor. He couldn't let Harri see him like this, not while Treasure was missing. Innocent men. Ripping the shirt off, Archie returned to the mirror, standing bare-chested in front of it as he swore the memories of last night could never be revealed to anyone. They weren't innocent, they couldn't be. The Dragons had attacked him, they had tried to sell him drugs and he refused. It was self-defense, he had already been released by the police and the city would be better with a few less trafficking gangbangers in it. This was not his fault. Archie had to justify it to himself. He couldn't let himself be bogged down by guilt. There just wasn't time for him to wallow. Whatever happened in Galloway's shop last night was between him, Marrok and the dead now. He gripped the edges of the sink tighter. He needed everything to slow down, Archie needed time to think, to read and to study. If this Grimoire was capable of making him commit murder, then he would need to learn to control it. A noise outside the door reminded Archie of the task at hand and he hurriedly threw some toothpaste on his brush before cleaning his teeth. "Ready to go?" He called before grabbing another shirt he had left in the bathroom. He gave it a quick sniff test before throwing it on. "Yeah, definitely," Came Harri's reply before Archie rushed out, adjusting his shirt before motioning for Marrok to follow as the three left the apartment. It was already after six in the evening before Archie and Harri made their way out of his apartment and hastened through the building towards his car. It wasn't much; a small sedan more than a few years older than what would have retained any sort of value. It's what had allowed Archie to buy a luxury branded vehicle, even if most of its luxuries had given up the ghost prior to purchasing. But it was reliable where it counted and could take a beating. Like any young man, Archie would have liked to buy himself a much nicer car, but being an associate wasn't exactly a huge paycheque. Perhaps if he could hold on to his promotion to Junior Partner, a new car would be in his future. Or you could use mag'ik, idiot. Or, he could start using mag'ik to solve all of his problems. Responsibility be damned, nothing bad ever came of abusing near-limitless cosmic powers. It's not like the Grimoire, or Galloway cautioned him against using these abilities for personal gain. A twinge of guilt caused Archie to wince before his inner voice even began to scold him. It's not like you already have a body count. "I forgot that you drive like my grandma," Harri bemoaned from beside Archie, who was brought back out of autopilot to the actual situation at hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Marrok snicker in the rear-view mirror. "I-uh," "Could you make an exception?" Harri pleaded, "Just this once, for Tess." "I'll see what I can do," Archie answered before reluctantly pushing down harder on the accelator and watching the speedometer climb to five miles above the posted limit. An exasperated breath escaped from between Harri's lips, but she didn't complain further, the car falling into an awkward silence as it made its way through the district. Bosley was already waiting by the time Archie had found parking for his modest sedan. Parking around the corner from the Haunt, Archie and Harri made their way quickly along Milk Street. While most of the day had already elapsed, it was still too early for the club crowd, meaning the neo-industrial bar was practically empty save for a few regulars who were sitting along the bar rail. Even the DJ hadn't finished setting up for the night, Archie observed while he watched the man clad in the theatrical, angular helmet supervising a couple of sound technicians as they ran his cords and set up his station.

"Hey Stud, didn't think I'd see you again until Saturday," Boz greeted jovially, before allowing his expression to become more solemn. "Harriet, I'm sorry about your sister, but I promise you I'm going to do everything I can to ensure I get her back." "Thank you, Tom," Harri replied as the two quickly exchanged a side hug. Archie couldn't help but recall Boz's words from this morning, his eyes looking between the pair as they embraced in an obligatory manner wondering if Boz was playing nice solely for Archie's sake or if there was genuine emotion behind the gesture. "Alright, Archie, find your bartender friend." Harri ordered as Boz raised an eyebrow at the comment. Archie knew there was no way that Boz missed how Harri's words had practically bristled at the mention of Carmilla. "What's this about a bartender?" Boz asked excitedly while Harri crossed her arms in front of her. Her eyes wandered around the Haunt, looking anywhere but towards the bar where the dark-hair, caramel skinned woman in question was currently polishing pint glasses. "I, uh hit, er, chatted. No, I, ah made a friend with the bartender over there, Carmilla." He finally spat out as Boz clapped him on the back. Tom grinned from ear to ear, speaking intentionally loud enough that there was no mistaking that Harri had to have heard every word Boz said.

________________________________

"You dog, she's absolutely gorgeous." Boz applauded, "Atta boy, I knew you had it in you, but word of advice, don't date bartenders. Especially ones that work at the Haunt." He smiled. "Remind me to only go to the Velvet Room from now on," Harri muttered beneath her breath while Archie scrambled to change the subject. "I, I think it's important that we-" Archie started before Harri viciously cut him off, spitting venom towards Bosley. "We're here to find Treasure, not set up Archie with the bimbo bartender, so let's say on subject, please, Thomas." "Yes, Ma'am," Boz retorted with a mock salute. "Well, Superstar, why don't we go reintroduce ourselves and see if we can't find out something about Miss Huffy's sister?" "I'm not 'huffy', and you're being insensitive." Harri snapped back. Archie found himself suddenly very torn between his two closest friends. "If you're not actually here to help, then you can leave." "Harri-" "Aren't you supposed to be talking to the bartender?" Harri snapped, turning on Archie as he tried to interject. Archie, for the first time in his life, felt his fists curl as Harri turned her venom on him. The hairs on the back of his neck started to bristle while she laid into him. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair. They were there to help here and Archie of all people treated Treasure with every bit of love and respect that he had for Harri herself. "ENOUGH!" He barked suddenly. A hush fell over what few patrons were inside the Haunt at this hour. "We're both here to help you find Treasure, and this bickering isn't accomplishing anything. I'm going to go ask Carmilla if she saw anything last night; you and Boz are going to stay here and make up. Whether you like it or not, Boz has connections through the D.A.'s office that can help, connections we don't have. So yeah, we need him, and I'd like you both to start getting along. Treasure's like a sister to me too, Harri, I know you're stressed, but we're going to find her-" "Stud, I want to bring her home, but we can't promise-" "No, Boz." Archie tightened his fist. He could feel the hum of the Grimoire in his pocket. "We're bringing her home." He stated matter-of-factly. The tone of the normally meek, mild-mannered lawyer left no room for argument as he stood his ground. "You're both my closest friends, and I am asking you, and I never ask for anything, to please get along for one night. I hope you both can find some commonality by the time I get back." He added before storming off towards the barrail. Archie's hands were shaking like a leaf; he had never yelled at Boz before, and for Harri, this was somehow now the second time in twenty-four hours. Never before in his life had he so badly wanted a drink, but the situation wouldn't allow for it as he strode directly towards Carmilla. Checking his breath as he approached, Archie straightened his shirt again before quickly tousling his hair and then combing it with his fingers. Reluctantly satisfied with his appearance being as good as it was going to get, he opened his mouth to address the raven-haired woman, only for her to greet him first. "I didn't think I'd see you again so soon," Carmilla purred, a smile crossing her glossy, wine-coloured lips as she rested her elbows on the countertop and cradled her head in her hands, looking up at Archie. Perfectly drawn cat eyeliner accented her doe-like dark eyes. Archie was taken aback for a moment, seemingly recalling that the woman had blue-hued violet eyes the night before. "I mean, I was hoping," She smiled, batting her eyes before continuing, "You look like you could use a drink. Your usual?" "N-no, thank you," Archie managed to stammer, "I uh, actually need a favour." "I wouldn't consider that a favour," Carmilla winked, edging herself closer to Archie, who suddenly felt very hot under the collar. She traced a finger along the back of one of his hands, and it felt like an electric current was suddenly running through his body. In his pocket, the Grimoire began to hum intensely against his thigh, sending further currents through his body as Archie tried to focus. He couldn't deny his attraction to Carmilla. Her confidence, the way she carried herself, and the way she was dressed in a figure-hugging leather corset top paired with a matching pair of skin-tight pants. It left little to the imagination, and perhaps that was why even in the dim lighting of the club, amidst the diffusion of crimson and copper, Archie spotted for the first time the smoky crystal pommel atop an ebony wood rod snugly holstered along the revealing waistline of the low-rise pants that gave way to a pair of narrow, lace-adored, silk straps that snugly hugged defined hip bones and teased Archie with the prospect of seeing so much more of Carmilla's wardrobe. His eyes flashed back to the similar object mounted above the counter at Galloway's shop before he suddenly took a step back, his hand moving to his pocket protectively. "Ha, ha-ha," He laughed nervously, "A-a-actually, it's Harri. Her, uh, her sister was here last night, and she's missing. Would you have seen anything?" Archie asked as Carmilla continued to stare at him like a wolf who had entrapped a deer. "Do you have a picture?" Carmilla asked, standing up as Archie fumbled for his phone. He cautiously reached for the disguised grimoire, keeping a tight grip on the faux device before pulling it from his pocket, hoping it could produce what he needed. Do I have a picture of Treasure? Responding to his need, the grimoire produced an image of Treasure, pulling her visage from his mind's eye rather than the connected cloud like a regular phone would have. Treasure was strikingly similar to Harri in many ways; they were, after all, sisters. But her face took more after her father's, giving her more of an oval face shape compared to Harri's heart-shaped one. Her hair was highlighted blonde, a stark difference from her older sister, but the pair shared the same nose and unmistakable dark eyes. Treasure notably had a beauty mark above her upper lip on the right side of her mouth, something that Archie had always thought was rather cute. "I serve a lot of people each night, can't say her face stands out," Carmilla answered flatly before standing from the counter. She watched Archie's eyes intently before reaching behind and pulling a suede jacket over her shoulders. Her hands subtly reached behind her and ensured the coat covered her waist. "A lot of 'pretty' girls come through her, comes with the proximity to the L.H.C." "The people she was with," Archie started, doing his best to feign ignorance at how Carmilla was using the jacket to hide what Archie could only assume was a 'conduit'. "Uh, the people she was with were likely rowdier; she's been hanging out with a rough crowd." "Then you'd be better off asking a server," Carmilla replied, seemingly bored with the conversation, while she rubbed her arms, pretending to warm herself. "Scott Knight was working last night; he's the one standing over there." She added, pointing towards a moderately tall and toned young man with tight dark curls. "If he recognizes your friend's sister, I can take a look at the cameras, but without a witness, it'd be just like looking for a needle in a haystack." She shrugged, "You should be more careful with that," Carmilla suddenly added, looking at Archie's phone. He froze, his lips opening, but no sound came out as he found himself unable to move. "Since you lost your last one," Carmilla suddenly smiled, "That's a different phone from last night, and you're holding it so tightly I'm afraid you'll crush it." She teased, a mischievous smile crossing her face as Archie relaxed slightly. "I can't give you my number if you keep losing your phone, gorgeous." "R-right, of course," Archie stammered, "I-I'll be right back," He replied before rushing over to Harri and pointing out Scott. "Carmilla suggested we talk to that server over there, said he was working last night and might have seen Treasure, especially if the people she was with were making a scene." Harri had initially crossed her arms as Archie had returned. He looked between her and Boz, the tension in the air still palpable. But it didn't appear that they had argued any further while Archie had been talking to Carmilla. Boz offered an apologetic smile as Harri slowly lowered her arms, a slight sigh of relief loosening her shoulders before she responded. "Thanks, Arch," She said softly, "For what it's worth, it really does look like the bartender is into you." Archie shook his head. "Let's not dwell on that right now," Archie replied, still feeling like Carmilla was watching him as his eyes kept picturing the conduit stored on her belt below her lower back. Her lips are devil-red, and her skin's the colour of mocha "We've got to get Treasure back before anything happens to her, and it looks like Scott Knight is our best chance." He reiterated, "Did you happen to see who Treasure was with?" "Yeah," Harri replied, looking one more time at Carmilla and back to Archie, clearly confused about how quickly he had dismissed the beautiful bartender. A small smile crossed her face as Archie focused on Treasure again, and Harri tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before answering further. "They looked like athletes, Coyotes maybe?" Harri offered as the pair approached Scott.

"Hockey players, the worst." Archie deadpanned. "Excuse me," Harri started, tapping the young man on the shoulder, "Are you Scott Knight?" The young man jumped slightly and looked over his shoulder, as if shaken from a stupor. “Oh! Uh…” "Carmilla, uh, pointed us towards you," Archie added, gesturing back towards the buxom bartender. “Oh. Sorry, was uh… Stuck in my own head. Yeah, I’m Scott,” he said, turning around to face them fully. He set down the rag he had been using to wipe tables and crossed his arms. He tried to give a friendly smile, but it fell flat on his face. “What can I help you with?” We're looking for my sister," Harri said, holding up her phone towards Scott, "She was in here last night, but she's gone missing. I think she was with some members of the Calder Coyotes, the hockey team. Did you happen to see her at all? Or see anything really?" She asked. "I'm Archie, and this is Harri," Archie added before pointing to Bosley, who was waiting for them a couple of paces back. "And that's Boz; he's with the D.A.'s office." Why'd you feel the need to say that? Now he's not going to talk to you, idiot. At the mention of Boz's employer, the DJ across the room perked up, locking his eyes onto Boz. Archie caught the glare that the man shot Boz from across the room, watching as the DJ's eyes narrowed, studying Boz as a jaguar would study a deer before pouncing. A shiver ran down Archie's spine before his attention was brought back to Scott. He was studying the photo on Harri’s phone intently before turning back to her and nodding. “I’m pretty sure I recognize her. I think her table was one of the ones I served last night. She was really nice… Can’t say the same for the guys she was with.” "What about the guys?” Harri asked, her curiosity piqued. “Er, uh, more importantly,” Archie interjected, “Do you, uh, remember what time and approximately what table?” He asked, gesturing broadly across the Haunt. Scott opened his mouth to reply to Harri, then turned to Archie. Nodding, he pointed over to a booth along the wall with a clear view of the dance floor. “That one. It was probably about six thirty or so when they came in? I had just clocked in like half an hour before I started serving them. They were there for most of the night, different people heading out to the dance floor or heading back to the table when I’d come around every ten minutes or so. She was there most of the time. Really nice, like I said.” He turned back to Harri. “And like I said, the guys were assholes.” "Hockey players, the worst," Archie repeated. “Hopefully, that, uh, should be enough for Carmilla to narrow it down on the cameras.” “Yeah, she should be able to do that for you. If it helps, there was a lot of shouting around one AM near that booth. I saw a girl heading out the side door after that. Pretty sure it was her.” “I think that’s exactly wh-” “Thank you so much!” Harri blurted out while lunging forward. Interrupting Archie, she stepped past him and wrapped her arms around Scott in a tight hug. Scott fumbled slightly before awkwardly patting Harri on the back. “Uh, yeah, no problem. Hope you guys find her.” Harri released the younger man before the pair rejoined Boz, and the trio made their way over to the barrail. Boz playfully nudged Archie in the ribcage upon approaching Carmilla, finally getting a close-up look at the beauty that had Archie acting bashful and Harri like her thong was in a twist.

________________________________

"Uh, h-hi again," Archie said nervously as he approached Carmilla with Boz and Harri in tow. "We talked to Scott, and he said there was a commotion around 1 AM that led to a girl storming out the side door. Said he never saw her enter again." Carmilla nodded. "That I can work with." She smiled, waving for the trio to follow me. "The manager's office is back here. We can take a look at the cameras at that time and see what we can find." "You know," Carmilla spoke again, turning to look Archie in the eye, "You really should give me your phone so I can put my number in it." She stated, less as a suggestion and more as a demand. Boz's jaw dropped slightly at the woman's forwardness before he looked to Harri, who was doing her best to not show the steam that was threatening to come out of her ears. "You're enjoying this too much," She muttered out the side of her mouth towards Boz. "A little," He replied with a wink. "Do you hear her? She's throwing herself at him like some kind of sl-" "Carmilla, you're a very forward woman." Boz interjected, cutting Harri off while attempting to rescue Archie as the foursome entered the office.

"If a woman knows what they want, why shouldn't she be?" Camilla retorted, a smirk spreading across crimson lips. "See, that's the problem with women today, they don't make moves and get upset when others do. It's only until they can't have something, so they realize they want it." She didn't even turn to look at Boz while speaking, her accent thickening the longer she spoke. Archie hadn't noticed it before, but beneath her English were subtleties in her enunciation and intonation that indicated the American tongue was not, in fact, her first. Moving directly across the office, she approached the large display of monitors mounted on the nearby wall, then pushed the desk chair out of her way. "Unlike me, I know what I want, and I get it." Carmilla stated before ditching her jacket and leaning over the keyboard connected to the security monitors. The back of her corset was neatly cinched with a ribbon that matched her dark lipstick as the boned garment enhanced her already accentuated figure into a picture-perfect hourglass. Leaning downward over the desk onto her elbows, Carmilla arched her back seductively to further illustrate her point, not only to Archie but also to Harri. Archie felt himself swallow hard, a nervous lump forming in his throat as Carmilla's already cropped corset rose, fully revealing the small of her back and sun-kissed, caramel skin above the waistline of the low-rise leather pants again. The tantalizing temptation of the shimmering, silk straps drew his attention exactly to where he wanted to look, but to Archie's surprise, the conduit from earlier was nowhere to be seen. Had Carmilla ditched her weapon, or did Galloway have Archie paranoid and seeing threats where there were none? He couldn't say for certain, not with his lack of sleep and rapid transpiring of events in the last twenty-four hours. "There." Carmilla pointed as Harri took a step closer. "Yeah, that's definitely Tess." Harri replied, "What's she doing?" She asked, watching her sister on the screen, before she suddenly exited through the side door. "Do you have any exterior cameras?" Boz asked. "Getting there, Cowboy." Carmilla replied flatly, "Americans, always so impatient." The monitors changed to an exterior shot of the Haunt. Treasure was standing outside playing with her vape while leaning against a wall. Suddenly, a black van approached, stopping abruptly before its doors opened, and two men roughly pulled Treasure inside. "No! no, no, no." Harri's voice quivered as she continued to watch, unable to look away as the black van with the circular emblem departed from the frame. "Wait," Boz instructed. "Can you roll it back frame by frame?" He asked as Carmilla nodded and began to do so. "There!" Boz exclaimed as Carmilla paused the video again. "There's a partial plate. I've got contacts in the detective's department who can run that plate. Maybe we'll get a hit." "That'll take too much time," Harri protested. "It's the best we've got right now," Boz argued before pulling his cell out of his pocket and heading towards the door to make the call. Archie stared intently at the screen before looking at Harri, who was doing her best not to cry. Boz exchanged a knowing glance with Archie while Archie awkwardly tried to hold Harri, who shrugged off his embrace. "Yes, hello. I need to speak with Detective Wilcox." Boz's voice echoed behind him while he moved into the hallway. "No, I will not hold; it's regarding the missing persons case. Tell her A.D.A. Thomas Bosley is on the line. I have a partial plate for a vehicle suspected to be involved in the abduction." Archie looked from Harri back to Boz in the hallway and then to Carmilla who had propped herself up on her elbows against the desk. He hated feeling helpless. If Harri had given him the night to think things through and work on the Grimoire, then maybe there would have been a chance he could have helped. But as it were, he was just who he had always been. A loser. "If there was nothing else," Carmilla commented, "I do have to get back to work, for what it's worth, I do hope you find the girl, though." She added, pausing on her way past Archie. "Also, you're not a loser, and you're already more capable than you think," Carmilla whispered in Archie's ear, her hot breath sending a shiver down his spine. "Say hi to the dog for me." She called before leaving the office. "Whether you realize it or not, you're learning to use your familiar. It's the first step any mage makes. Even as we speak, your senses are synchronizing to its own." Galloway's words echoed in Archie's head. There was something he had to be able to do after all. He moved to let Harri know he was stepping outside, but opted to just awkwardly exit the room not wanting to be shrugged off again. Passing Boz on the way out, Archie and Boz exchanged a quick node before Boz tapped him on the shoulder and stopped him. "Hey, I don't know what your plans are with Carmilla, but uh, be careful." He cautioned, "I can't put my finger on it, but she has a certain je ne said quoi about her." Bosley smiled sadly. Archie nodded before walking off, leaving Boz who was anxiously waiting for a call back. If he had been more aware of his surrounding, Tom might have noticed the glaring eyes of Mikołajek Kamiński staring at him from across the room. The artist brought his cellphone out of his pocket, snapping a quick picture of Bosley before lifting the rat-like mask over his head. Tapping his hand against his thigh, Mikołajek began to compose a melody, a new song come to him, his eyes unwaveringly fixed on Bosley. Memories of the lawyers and city officials who failed his mother turning his blood red hot. "If the D.A. is going to poke around, then it's time to show this city just how corrupt its protectors are." A record scratch filled the Haunt before the bass dropped. "LET'S GET WRETCHED!"

-Boz, Carmilla, Harri and Archie
-Asking Carmilla if she saw Treasure, she didn't but suggest they check with a bouncer who was working last night.
-Scott cameo, Scott points them to where Treasure was.
-Carmilla checks the cameras, follows Treasure being lured to a side door by a man with a distinctive mark. Watches her go into the back alley before being shoved in a black van with a circular logo. Nothing any of them had seen before.
-Tess abducted by van from Rat Reaper posts
-Using the camera they get a partial off the plate, Boz says he can get someone at the CCPD to run it and heads off to call his contact (Lucy?)
-Archie meanwhile feeling useless, begins to scroll the Grimoire before being reminded of what Galloway said about his senses merging with Marrok's. Moving into the alley, Archie asks Marrok for help and his familiar allows Archie to tap into Marrok's sense of smell, only for it to be a deadend (at this time).
-Harri is worried, but Boz says there's nothing more they can do tonight. Harri insists on staying with Archie, falling asleep in his bed while Arche instead pours over the Grimoire, which transforms back into the book while Archie studies it.
-With everything going on, Archie resolves to return to Galloway and accept his help in unlocking his mag'ikal abilities.

-The rat watching decides on Boz as a target, seeing him as a 'failing father figure' of the city. Or simply because they're lawyers, that might also work.

Vanguard: Calder City

|| T_^HE H_{^{AUNT -}} M_{^{ILK STREET}}

The ceiling of the Haunt's basement was a winding maze of various pipes, conduits and ducts. Most of it had been capped, valves shut off, wires pulled, but enough was still working that the basement was filled with a subtle, dull hiss. Pipes creaked and moaned while the snap of shifting metal in the ductwork echoed through old concrete rooms with ceilings low enough to make even a person of moderate height duck through cement-block doorways. "I hope that dial stays locked in on WKNT as our 'Days of Remembrance' special... Crackling audio echoed through the narrow corridor, the broadcast illuminated on a cracked monitor hoisted above a desk littered with electronics and soldering equipment. Cables in neat braids were zip-tied into harnesses that ran parallel with the raceways on the ceiling above. The makeshift workspace was shared with various keyboards and synthesizers alongside other recording equipment.

________________________________

Smoke rose from the tip of the soldering iron as the hooded figure continued to work on the circuit in front of him. The hum of a 3D printer in the corner added a constant drone behind the broadcast as the figure nodded along. He looked up from his work, his eyes fixing on the angular caricature of a rat's head that made up the large mask in front of him. A smile crossed the man's face, the scars that marred his visage twisting with the grin while he stared into the glowing green LEDs that illuminated the face of the mask. He'd been considered a rat his whole life, a bilgerat raised in the Wharves, destined never to amount to anything. Mikołajek Kamiński may not have been a household name, but DJ R3TCH!D R@T was on the tip of everyone's tongue. Now the people of Calder City worshipped the rat. ...Becca, I have to ask, since you know your Calder Capes pretty well, do you remember the Piper?" The Piper, Landin Johansson. He had left a tremendous impact on Mikołajek's life. Or rather, an impressive void. His sperm donor of a father, the Piper had used his abilities to assault Mikołajek's mother, coerce her into relations with him and then bailed the minute those actions had consequences. Naturally, no other suitor came calling once word got out that his dear mother had been a Graybanger. Even the Molls wouldn't take her.

Given the difficulty that Krysia had in proving her consent was coerced to the police, let alone any lawyer that would hear her out, Mikołajek's mother had never been able to press charges against the alleged super. "...dead, killed in a shootout with the Pointe District Police in the middle of Swashbuckler's Splashdown." The female host stated, only serving to widen Mikołajek's grin as he stared into the rat mask beaming with pride. It had been easy enough to procure the Piper's armaments, offer to sign a few autographs, take some pictures, all the while lying through his mask to the Calder City Police Department about what a fan he was of the Piper. Grease the right palms, and evidence from closed cases was fairly easy to acquire. But Mikołajek was not some overly confident, arrogant fool either. Once he had successfully reverse-engineered the Piper's technology using equipment he had discovered in a similar hideaway to his own beneath the Swashbuckler’s Splashdown Park, Mikołajek had simply returned the originals. His version greatly improved upon the design anyhow. Frequency dialation allowed Mikołajek to target specific age groups, giving his music almost a hypnotic quality that compelled the listener to do exactly as their new Rat God desired. Lyrics for several new songs sat scribbled in front of him, Mikołajek finding himself humming along to the hook of 'I'm Robin H00d, B!t₵h'. A monitor beside him began to play a snuff film while his latest single filled the room. Reaching across towards the glowing green mask, Mikołajek removed an ear, pulling out the circuit board before replacing it with the one he had been working on and reconnecting the quick connector. "Local DJ 'R3TCH!D R@T' is the talk of the local scene again with his new single 'Break Stuff (& Kill Ur Rents)'. The evocative title is followed by even more vulgar lyrics which encourage the listener to do exactly that, all while set against a heavy bassline and disorienting instrumentals. Using snippets of local news segments, spliced with TockBox and SnapShot videos, the song is unfortunately catchy with a rhythm that will hype you up and make you want to follow its earworm lyrics." A broadcast from another of Calder's radio stations played concurrently with the video unfolding in front of him. Mikołajek began to smile as the teenager at the focal point of the video began to swung around an aluminum baseball bat, destroying their parents' living room decor before moving on to family photographs and even awards that dotted the mantle. "...not just "edgy" or "rebellious." It is a direct incitement to violence. In what world is it acceptable to market a track that explicitly encourages teenagers to harm their parents? We are living in a society that is falling apart at the seams, and this person is actively pouring gasoline on the fire for a few streams..." Screams began to drown out the talk show as the video displayed the teenager now turning the bat on his father. The older man's jaw hung at an unnatural angle, an eyeball had been freed from its socket while teeth and blood collectively littered the accent rug in the middle of the demolished room. As the father's laboured breathing came to an end, the enraged teenager tightened his hands on the bat, moving around to target the mother. Mikołajek grimaced slightly, a glimmer of humanity causing him to look away before the screaming suddenly resumed. "Oof, that is rough, buddy. Anyways, folks, here's local artist and current Calder City favourite, DJ R3TCH!D Rat with 'I'm not Gray (& I Luv It)."

O<sub><sup>nce was a man who lived a life so mundane, it could only be true.

_
_
_
_
_
Practically invisible to the world around him, life carries on while he felt perpetually stuck treading water just to keep his head

_
_
afloat. Fortunately for the man, fate had different ideas and intervened with a heavy hand. Pushed into a corner, the man

_
_
was driven to hide amongst dusty shelves and heavy tomes. In the silence, he could hear his name being whispered,

_
_
over and over again, until his hand touched one particular opus. A worn book, bound in leather and tarnished steel. Though

_
_
sealed, it opened for a price, and upon spreading its pages, the man's life was changed forever.
_
_
_
_
_
_
Now, he is the Warlock they call...</sup></sub>

---

---

---

---

LOCATION: THE WAMPANOAG APARTMENT COMPLEX - MILK STREET

URBAN GOTHIC #1.11: HAVEN

---

INTERACTIONS: NONE

PREVIOUSLY: HARD KNOCKS

It was absolutely fascinating how the Grimoire had adapted to its new form. Perfectly emulating Archie's lost phone, by the time he had finally arrived home, it had racked up an impressive missed call and text count from both Harri and Boz. The young lawyer was completely enthralled as the device functioned not only exactly like the one it had replaced, but far beyond the capabilities of a mundane cellphone. It was intuitive to his every thought and whim, cycling through emulated applications and composing messages as they came to Archie. Thankfully, it still seemed to require his input before sending. But it was not texting that Archie wanted. No, instead he found himself rapidly pouring through the pages of the Grimoire. The book's author, Zechariah Auber, had left behind a complete manual to mag'ik and a history of the lineage of Emyrs. His emerald eyes had watched in surprise as the book filled out his own name beneath Auber on the 'family tree.' Beside his own name was another direct apprentice of Zechariah Auber, but the name had become corrupted, ending his lineage as the floating symbols refused to form a word or name that was legible to Archie. Continuing to thumb through the pages, the sandy-haired man laid his eyes on every word on the screen. Foreign languages instantly translated, glyphs became graphemes. Illustrations were suddenly animated, showing the precise movements to conjure forth bursts of flame and bolts of electricity. But what stopped Archie in his tracks was one of the earliest pages of the Grimoire. THE RULES OF MAG'IK ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴇʀɢy, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜɪᴍꜱ. ɪᴛ ꜱᴜʀʀᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴜꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʙɪɴᴅꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ. ɪᴛ ꜰʟᴏᴡꜱ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴇᴠᴇʀy ᴩᴇʀꜱᴏɴ, ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ, ᴀʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇꜱʜᴀᴩᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡɪʟʟ. ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴜꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟy ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇɴ ᴄᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʀʀɪᴇʀ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅꜱ ʙᴇ ᴩᴀꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴩᴏᴡᴇʀꜰᴜʟ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ-ᴅɪᴍᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴇɴᴇʀɢy. ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ᴀʟᴡᴀyꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ, ᴀ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇ ᴩᴀɪᴅ ɪɴ ꜰᴜʟʟ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴠᴀʀy ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴩᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴩᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ᴏʀ ᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴛ; ᴛʜᴇ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ ɪꜱ yᴏᴜʀ ʟɪꜰᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ ᴍᴀy ʙᴇ ᴩᴀɪᴅ ɪɴ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ yᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴏʀ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ᴄᴏꜱᴛ ᴏʀ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛɪᴍᴇ. ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜰʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ʀᴇqᴜɪʀᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ yᴏᴜʀ ʙᴏᴅy ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɴᴇʟ. ᴇᴠᴇʀy ᴛɪᴍᴇ yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀꜱᴛ, yᴏᴜʀ ʙᴏᴅy ᴩᴀyꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ᴏꜰꜰꜱᴇᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴ ᴇxᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ᴏʀ yᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ. ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴩʀɪꜱᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟꜱ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜱᴜɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪᴇʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪɴʜᴇʀᴇɴᴛʟy ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴀꜰꜰɪɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴩ ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ɢᴇᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴩʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟꜱ ᴍᴀy ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʀᴇᴩʟᴀᴄᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴇxʜᴀᴜꜱᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴠᴀʟᴜᴇ. ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴛᴇᴅ, ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ɪꜱ ʙᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪᴛꜱ ᴩʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴛɪᴏɴᴇʀ. ɴᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴍᴀɢᴇ ᴍᴀy ᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀꜱᴛ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ɪᴛ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴꜰʟɪᴄᴛ ᴏʀ ɪᴛ ʜᴀꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇʟɪɴqᴜɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ꜱᴇɴᴛɪᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟɪᴛy ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴇɴʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴩᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ, ᴅʀᴀᴡɪɴɢ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴅᴇᴇᴩ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴩᴏᴡᴇʀꜰᴜʟ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏꜰᴛᴇɴ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟy ʜᴇɪʀʟᴏᴏᴍꜱ. ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴛᴏᴏʟ ᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴇᴀᴩᴏɴ. ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇy ᴀʀᴇ ᴜɴꜱᴛᴏᴩᴩᴀʙʟᴇ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱ yᴏᴜʀ ʟɪꜰᴇ; ᴅɪꜱᴀʀᴍᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ, yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴠᴜʟɴᴇʀᴀʙʟᴇ. ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇᴅ ʙy ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴩᴀɪʀᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ. ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ, ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀꜱ ᴍᴀy ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴀɴy ꜰᴏʀᴍ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴅᴇꜰᴀᴜʟᴛ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴀɴ ᴇxᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ. ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀɢᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɴy ʙᴏɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴠᴇʀᴀʟ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʀꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟy ʟᴏɴɢ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ. ᴀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ɪꜱ ʀᴇqᴜɪʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ʟᴏyᴀʟ ᴛᴏ ɪᴛꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀɢᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴍꜱ ɪᴛ ꜰʀᴇᴇ. ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇxᴩʟɪᴄɪᴛʟy ꜰᴏʀʙɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ. ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ꜱᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴏᴩᴩᴇʟɢäɴɢᴇʀ ᴏʀ ꜰᴇᴛᴄʜ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴅᴜᴩʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʙᴇɪɴɢ. A sound of discontent escaped the lithe male's mouth, a scowl upon his face turning to a frown while reading the rules. Re-reading them, he found himself both unimpressed and utterly underwhelmed with how vague the guidelines actually were. Bookmarking the page for later, Archie made a mental note to return and draft a secondary reading of the rules, something more rigid for himself to follow. If this 'mag'ik' was as dangerous as Galloway had made it out to be, then there ought to be more rules than the one listed above. Still, the apparently arcane-touched Archie couldn't risk the temptation to try to cast something as he flipped until he found a simple illumination spell. Following the directions on the page, Hardwick moved his hand along with the animation several times before muttering to himself. "S-solas, uh, n'hir-a." Sparks crackled from the palm of his hand, a quick flash of light barely illuminated beyond his hand in the musty corridor of the apartment building. His green eyes went wide in shock that it had worked at all. Waving his hand in shock as though it were on fire, he held it out in front of himself again before repeating the phrase, only this time louder and more confidently. "Solas n'hira!" An orb of light appeared in Hardwick's hand, casting a soft white light over the corridor of the apartment before the fledgling warlock rounded the corner towards his unit. Continuing to walk down the dimly lit corridor, Archie was so enamoured with poring through the Grimoire and the success of his first spell that he didn't even notice Harri waiting outside his apartment door before nearly tripping over her.

"Where the ₣ʊ₵κ have you been?" Harri stood, ripping into Archie almost immediately before wrapping her arms around him. Archie felt his cheeks begin to flush before the sensation of something wet started to soak through his shirt. Harri lifted her face; her mascara was smudged, her eyes red with fresh tears welling up in their corners. "I have been worried sick." Harri sniffled, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "I didn't know what to think when you didn't reply. First you went missing, then Tess-" "Wait," Archie interjected, "Treasure's missing?" He asked. Beyond having two doting parents, there was another reason Archie had always envied Harri. She had a younger sibling, a built-in friend for life, in the form of her sister, Treasure. "I might not have been completely honest about yesterday..." Harri tucked a long strand of her dark hair behind an ear. Her eyes looked off to the side before looking up at Archie again only once she had released him. Nodding, Archie moved to his apartment door as Harri followed him while Archie unlocked it. "Of course, I wanted to celebrate you, the brown-eyed woman reassured Archie, "But Tess has been acting out more and more lately, ever since she found out she was a..." Harri had to take a moment, struggling to say the word out loud. "Y'know, a g-." "She's a Gray, Harri," Archie replied softly, "It's not a big deal." "I know, but Mom and Dad are having a really hard time with it, and now Tess is acting like she doesn't know who she is." Harri explained.

________________________________

"I knew she was going to the Haunt last night, and I used your promotion as an excuse to keep an eye on her. I mean, you saw how the Dragons are practically all over that place." Archie watched Harri intently, feeling like he should maybe hold her hand or hug her. Instead, he just awkwardly stood, listening to her while she leaned against the doorway of his apartment. "Look, I deserved everything you unloaded on me last night, but is there any chance you can come with me back to the club. You seemed to hit it off with that bartender chick, maybe we can use that to find a lead." Harri suggested, "Or you have that friend in the D.A.'s office still, right? Look, Arch, I'm spiralling here, I don't trust the police." Good call. Archie deadpanned to himself. His experience earlier that day was rightfully still quite fresh in his mind. "You've seen all the missing posters littering the city. Grays turning up dead with shaved heads, I can't let that be, Treasure." Harri pleaded. "Look, Harri, I want to help, I really do," Archie replied, "But I don't know how much help I can be." "Can you call Boz and have him meet us at the Haunt at least?" The woman batted her dark brown eyes at Archie. Any resistance he had instantly melted. "C'mon, it's for Tess, you have to know she was always a little sweet on you." No, I did not in fact know that. "Okay, I'm i-" Archie began to answer, only to be interrupted by a loud bark as Marrok suddenly opted to make himself known. "You got a dog!?" Harri asked, her tone torn between confusion and excitement. "I think it might have been a drunk decision from last night; the details are a little foggy." Archie lied. "His name is Marrok." "Marrok, such a handsome boy," Harri replied, approaching the black dog without any semblance of fear and scratching him under his chin. "He's of course, coming too, right?" Marrok barked again, no doubt to answer Harri's question himself, before Archie slowly nodded. "Let me call Boz and freshen up." He stated, leaving Harri in the living room with Marrok before searching the bathroom for some Advil. Most of his hangover had subsided, but he wasn't out of the woods yet. "I'll, uh, drive, I guess." He called, poking his head back out before shutting the bathroom door. What he wouldn't give for a quiet evening to curl up with a certain book.

Vanguard: Calder City

I've updated the 'Stomping Grounds' section of my CS with images to give a better feel to each neighbourhood in Pointe Bordeaux.

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

_TREASURE LYND _______________________________ Face Claim: Vanessa Morgan | Dialogue: #000000	The younger sister of Harri Lynd, Treasure is a Gray with the ability to manipulate minor aspects of her physical appearance, mostly notably but not limited to her hair colour and eye colour. Additionally, she possesses minor pheromone manipulation. Unlike her accomplished sister, Treasure is more rebellious and something of a grifter and petty thief. A hard partier, Harri constantly worries about Treasure falling in with the wrong crowd. Treasure, like many other Grays, is currently missing.
_THOMAS BOSLEY _______________________________ Face Claim: Patrick J. Adams | Dialogue: #606B8E	Thomas 'Tom' Bosley, alternatively known as 'Boz' and the 'Boss', is an Associate District Attorney with Calder City's District Attorney's Office and a former coworker of Archibald Hardwick. Ambitious and driven, Bosley has plans to run for District Attorney during the next election. He and Archie were roommates during post-secondary studies and have remained close friends, playing semi-regular games of Gargoyle & Graves together.
_STILLETO _______________________________ Face Claim: Hannah John-Kamen | Dialogue: #000000	Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat.
_FATHER ARAMIS _______________________________ Face Claim: Jeremy Irons | Dialogue: #000000	Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat.
_THE RAVAGERS _______________________________ Face Claim: N/A | Dialogue: #000000	Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat.
_THE MOLLS _______________________________ Face Claim: N/A | Dialogue: #000000	Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat.
_MOLLY RAVENCROFT _______________________________ Face Claim: Rosario Dawson | Dialogue: #000000	Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat.
_MOLLY SAMEDI _______________________________ Face Claim: Lupita Nyong'o | Dialogue: #000000	Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat.
_THE GHOULS _______________________________ Face Claim: N/A | Dialogue: #000000	Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat.

Father Aramis, The Mission of Santa Maria de Laveaux

Vanguard: Calder City

O<sub><sup>nce was a man who lived a life so mundane, it could only be true.

_
_
_
_
_
Practically invisible to the world around him, life carries on while he felt perpetually stuck treading water just to keep his head

_
_
afloat. Fortunately for the man, fate had different ideas and intervened with a heavy hand. Pushed into a corner, the man

_
_
was driven to hide amongst dusty shelves and heavy tomes. In the silence, he could hear his name being whispered,

_
_
over and over again, until his hand touched one particular opus. A worn book, bound in leather and tarnished steel. Though

_
_
sealed, it opened for a price, and upon spreading its pages, the man's life was changed forever.
_
_
_
_
_
_
Now, he is the Warlock they call...</sup></sub>

---

---

---

---

LOCATION: GALLOWAY'S EMPORIUM OF ANTIQUITIES - MILK STREET

URBAN GOTHIC #1.10: HARD KNOCKS

---

INTERACTIONS: NONE

PREVIOUSLY: HANDS

"It's remarkably impressive what you've done," Galloway continued, motioning for Archie to follow him. Archie swallowed hard, feeling a nervous lump forming in his throat, taking one last look at the Arquus de Vice before following the older man.

"Better men than you have tried to claim this grimoire as their own, yet somehow, only you've accomplished such a feat," Galloway explained while walking. He was joined by a small owl that swooped down from the rafters of the store, letting out a small 'hoot' before coming to rest on his shoulder. A sudden growl from beside Archie alerted him to the Grim's reappearance as the black dog moved ahead of him, its hackles raised, maintaining a blockade between the younger man and the storekeeper.

"How long has he been with you?" Galloway asked, turning around before pointing towards the black dog.

"As long as I can remember," Archie replied, somewhat less surprised that this Galloway character of all people could see the wolf-dog. Galloway looked from the Grim, back to Archie before raising his finger and thumb to his bare chin and scratching it thoughtfully.

"I-uh," Archie stammered, trying to string together the words he wanted to say, "I used to be.. er- still am... afraid of him; everyone convinced me I was uh, seeing things. There used to be these pills..." His voice trailed off, the memory of perpetual nausea washing over as a chalky taste filled his mouth.

"They used to force me to take them. These pills, pills to help block out the black dog, pills to forget, I guess. At least, that's what they did. I don't really remember much of my childhood before I was ten, let alone specifics."

"You must know your birthday? What day were you born?" The older man continued to inquire, his eyes staring intently at the bagherst while the darkly coloured canine returned the intrusive gaze with a piercing glare of its own. Archie was caught off guard by the question; his head hurt as he tried to remember. A memory tried to push through the fog; he could see a highchair tray in front of him, smell of a cake, the faint glow of a candle.

Rhythmic chants echoed in his ears before a loud shout silenced them, immediately followed by a blinding flash as brilliant blue and electric green filled the room. The air suddenly felt hot, and the acrid smell of something burning turned his nostrils up — a familiar sense, nearly identical to the one from the night before.

A splitting ache suddenly shot through his skull before the faint memory was devoured by what appeared to be the spittle-covered gaping maw of the Grim. He stumbled backwards, catching himself on the counter. It wasn't often that people asked personal details about his life before adoption, let alone his early childhood before his stay at the Mission of Santa Maria de Laveaux.

Beads of sweat formed on Archie's forehead before he hastily wiped his sleeve against his brow. He tried to still his beating heart, realizing that Galloway was still waiting on an answer.

"I don't actually know my birthday." He shuffled his feet against the wooden floor, eyes wandering away from Galloway, towards the nearest window. "It was kind of lost when I was put in the foster system; the Mission was never given a record of it, nor of my parents." Archie continued, his volume falling as he spoke. Clearing his throat, he turned his face back towards Galloway.

"My parents, uh, the adoptive ones, always celebrated my adoption day."

A growl from the Grim interrupted anything further from Archie. Galloway turned rapidly on his heels, hands tightly gripping his cane, before he firmly tapped it against the floor and raised his right hand in the direction of the black dog.

"Enough, Marrok!" Galloway shouted. To Archie's surprise, the beast's hackles lowered as the dog bowed his head towards Galloway. Archie turned his head back towards the older man, watching as a small smile crossed the silver-haired man's face before he muttered slightly beneath his breath.

"How fascinating." Galloway continued to smile, reaching under the counter before producing the Grimoire and placing it atop, facing towards Archie.

"Is that his name?" Archie asked, his eyes moving from the black dog back to Galloway and then back to the bagherst again.

"I believe so," Galloway replied, "It is you, isn't it, Marrok?" He asked the familiar, who replied with a quick bark and a wag of his tail. Galloway nodded before turning his full attention back to the other man.

"Where'd you train?" He asked, watching as Archie's eyes immediately fixated on the Grimoire. The younger man's hands suddenly became unsure of where to keep themselves as Archie tucked and untucked them into his pockets, curling his hands into fists before reopening them, before finally settling on holding them behind his back while he answered Galloway's question.

"Uh, Calder City University?" Archie answered hesitantly, unsure why Galloway was now interested in his education.

"No, where did you study the arcane?" The other man replied flatly, his voice dropped to a monotone, clearly annoyed by Archie's answer.

"I haven't, I uh, didn't." Archie replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "I didn't even believe in magic before last night."

"Mag'ik." Galloway interjected, correcting Archie's pronunciation.

"Magic." Archie repeated. Galloway shook his head again.

"Mag'ik." He stressed.

"Majiq?" The young lawyer offered.

"Close enough," Galloway waved his hand dismissively, done with the lesson in phonetics. "You expect me to believe that you opened the Grimoire with no training?"

"That is what happened." The younger man stated matter-of-factly. Galloway clicked his tongue behind his teeth, pacing back and forth behind the counter as he massaged his cleanly shaven chin between his index finger and thumb.

"Then you need my help even more than I thought." He finally said, Archie's hands itching to open the pages of the Grimoire again. "While I'm afraid I don't quite believe your story, you're certainly convincing in your naivety, and if genuine, you have no idea the danger you're in." Galloway cautioned the younger man.

"The Grimoire before you is a highly sought-after tome amongst mages like yourself. It contains the knowledge and teachings of Emyrs. One of the forefathers of mag'ik, along with the teachers of Zechariah Auber, the Master of new mag'ik." Deaglán monitored Archie's face, dissatisfied with the blank expression with which the boy stared back at him. Arche could tell he was looking for some form of recognition, but the names and terms, well, Galloway may as well have been speaking another language.

"You may know of Emyrs by another name." Galloway paused.

"Merlin."

A loud growl erupted from Marrok's throat as Galloway dared utter the word, Merlin. Archie looked to the black dog and back to Galloway, wondering what sort of sick, practical joke he had found himself drawn into. Superpowers he could get behind, but familiars and magic, magic created by Merlin of all people. It was too much.

"So," Archie chose his next words carefully. "Is that somehow Excalibur?" He asked, pointing to the wand hung above the counter.

"No," Galloway replied, shaking his head. "The less you know about that, the better. As for Caledfwlch, you're not ready for that." He added.

"In fact, I can see the disbelief written all over your face. You've stumbled into a world that you're not ready to open your mind to. For reasons I shall pretend to understand, you've been paired with a familiar nearly as old as mag'ik itself and chosen by the Grimoire of two of the most powerful warlocks ever to walk the mortal plane. Until you're ready to open your mind, I can help you no further." Galloway snapped, pushing the leather-bound book towards Archie.

"The grimoire has accepted your blood as payment; it is now bound to you. I can no longer keep it here." Reluctantly removing a hand from Auber's tome, Galloway raised a ring-laden finger in warning. "I'd suggest making that tome a tad more travel-sized to avoid attention; you're already going to receive far more than you've bargained for."

Trepidiously placing his hands on the book. Archie felt the power surge through him again, a feeling he had sought his entire life, filling his body as he took the book in his hands. His mind raced at everything Galloway had stated. How could he open his mind? Let alone, how was he supposed to make the tome travel-sized?

As if to answer, the book started to glow before suddenly disappearing. In its place, a cellphone appeared in Archie's palm, prompting Galloway to click his tongue behind his teeth again. He looked to Marrok, the familiar, exchanging a knowing look with the older wizard.

"Your raw talent is terrifying, Mr. Harwick," He said finally, "Imagine what you could accomplish if you were to open your mind and train that arcane talent. As a Warlock, you'd want for nothing."

It was as though Galloway was saying exactly what Archie wanted to hear, but he couldn't bring himself to believe the man. Tucking the new phone into his pocket, Archie extended a hand.

"Look, uh thank you, I think, but I just need some time to think. This is a lot." He replied as Galloway shook his hand.

"When you're ready, I'll be here." Galloway nodded, "But, I won't be the only one who offers, and be warned, others will want to turn you into a weapon."

"I'll try to keep that in mind," Archie replied before turning and exiting the shop. He motioned for Marrok to follow, the black dog falling into pace beside him before the pair found themselves once again on the sidewalk of Milk Street. Exhaling heavily, Archie looked up at the sky.

Clouds formed overhead, threatening rain as he cursed his lack of an umbrella.

Pulling the grimoire-turned-phone from his pocket, Archie tightly wrapped his hand around it while it hummed in his palm. His grip tightened on the device, its power once again flowing through his veins, filling Archie with a feeling like he was suddenly invincible.

Change was definitely coming. The world had better be ready. Archie had already experienced the Grimoire's power once, and that was with only a quick look in its pages. Tonight, he'd have a chance to properly sit down with the book and scroll through its arcane knowledge.

But first, he had to go home.