“Oh, man, that’s a riot! How scandalous, You ain’t lying about the situation being straight from a sitcom drama, The moxie of these kid these days, letting their fist do the talking. Misinformation and secrets casually thrown around, spreading like wildfire from classroom to classroom. Some things never change at high school, huh?” Derald can’t help but to shed a tear and busting his gut from laughing as soon as the janitor finishes his gossip.
The young mafiaoso finds the sweeper’s story quite amusing and helpful, to say the least. But he needs to dig deeper. Find more info about the Amari's.
“Was this Evan kid always this violent and a troublemaker? Also, what did his father and mother say about this incident? I’m sure they got called to the principal's office one way or another. Have you seen them around these parts?”
“Ach! When was the last time somebody cleaned this car!?” Derald exclaimed and stepped out of the car as quickly as possible as soon as they arrived at the place. Multiple water bottles fell off at his feet as soon as he opened the car door and made his exit.
Clearly, it was not a fun ride for the mafiaso as he felt his legs all numb up from being cramped for about an hour, travelling inside this compact vehicle. Not to mention the number of drive-thrus they have to go through on the way there. Despite being highly resistance to poison, Derald tasting an ample amount of that good ol’ American fast food did a number on his stomach, making him a bit queasy during the travel.
This company car has seen better days, as it is used for some sort of mobile workshop for their boss. One of the leading mages of astronomy living inside a sedan, who would have thought?
“Seems like a quiet neighborhood. It would be a damn shame if a demon started terrorizing this place.” Derald snorted as he lit up a cigarette, skimming the area.
Derald decided to stay with the investigation team, rather than meeting Ms. Fatma and her child himself. Too many people visiting her place might agitate this so-called ‘demon child’.
“I’m quite familiar with the area since my pad is not far from here.” He said to the group, protecting his eyes with his hand from the sun while looking up at the huge signage ‘Pearlwind Hotel’ from afar.
“So this is the profile of one Evan Amari, and his school is New Covenant Christian Academy, this is probably my best lead to test my theory. To see if anyone knows him personally. You know what they say, it takes a village to raise a child. I feel like Ms. Amari has skipped a few deets about her son.” He said, checking his phone.
“You’re welcome to tag along if you like; that way, we can cover more ground.” He said before leaving.
As Derald was fast approaching the school zone, He began his ritual while crossing the street. He waved his cigar in the air as if he were writing something in the wind with its smoke. He then crushed the cigarette stick in his palm and smothered its ash across his scarf.
At this moment, the man called Derald was no more. His cover up from normal eyes is in effect. If anyone ask what Derald look like, there's a ninety percent chance they would mess up his description.
He was a nobody; his identity is undefined. He wasn’t a mage. He was a nobody, like a face in the crowd.
Derald pondered and saw a street sweeper bearing the academy's logo. Perhaps this is a good way to start the investigation.
He approached the janitor all friendly, claiming to be his workmate, and asked if he knew a student named ‘Evan Amari’ and even if he doesn’t, He suggested that the janitor should take the day off and go home, offering to take his place for the day.
Despite being a 3rd-rate mage. Derald knew a thing or two about hypnosis. It isn’t memory-altering or complete Rasputin mind control level, but it can be persuasive to normal folks.
Derald flinched as he saw the magi girl acting all different, Selene was it? dropping some lore on demons on a different demeanour, claiming she knows someone who's a expert about demonic possessions. He isn’t versed on how this happened or what spell she used to alter her personality once she pulls out that creepy book, but on the streets, he knows a murderous intent when he sees one, It's all too familiar like a rival gang planning to ice someone in cold blood. Self-preservation dictates he should stir clear of the funeral themed girl.
Luckily, from the way he sees it, this girl’s persona has an on/off switch, some Jekyll and Hyde shit.
Derald let the whole thing play out as the quiet guy from the corner (Richard) offers some teaching to a tech-impaired girl about the wonders of modern technology.
Derald clears his throat before speaking again.
“Right... there are too many variables to why Fatma’s child is acting like that. The whole angels, demons, religion, and theology thing really escapes me.” He scratches his head.
“The best thing we can do is narrow down the cause and find a treatment without harming the child before it gets worse i presume.” He diagnose the case, letting his doctor-like side speak.
“I can round up any potential witness who made contact with Evan, hopeful to find a lead about my theory about the involvement of a third party mystics" He said.
"and don’t worry if they don’t cooperate, I got ways for them to talk.” The young mafioso said with a smirk, briefly showing his box of syringes out of his coat. His mystic code, the bane of most normal humans: poison.
“Also, what do you mean by her grandfather has beef with the executors? I feel like this pretty face client of ours has quite the family history with the church’s hitman.” He asked Leonardo.
Derald was relieved that Sunny and him shares the same sentiment about the DoM, Perhaps this common ground is enough for the young gangster to almost trust him.
As soon as Derald was invited to the agency’s group chat through Cipher. He quickly starts tapping his phone and immediately changes his nickname to xxHYDRAxx. This is his gamer tag from his youth. The self-loathing mafioso did have some normalcy in his free time aside from committing juvenile crimes during his childhood like playing video games and such.
He lights up another smoke as he analyzes their team’s first case. This is the third cigar he has taken ever since he arrived here, but hey, who’s counting? It’s his health.
“This is our first client? not gonna lie.. Mrs. Fatma is fine as hell, call me Ceasar cause i think i found my Cleopatra. ” He released a long whistle while looking at the picture.
After hearing Leonardo's brief on her case. His down-bad mood quickly dissipate as Derald's face went somber.
“So that’s her story, huh? Having her child curse like that is just plain despicable, I should know,” He mumbles the last part and clenches his fist. A relatable predicament for the dropout mage.
“In any case, demons don’t just pop out of nowhere; they need a pact, a ritual to be summoned and tethered to this world. Or at least that’s what I know from the movies.” He said in theory.
“I can volunteer to do a quick sweep where her son went prior to his possession last week. checking whether there's a change in Evan's daily routine.” He contributed to the other magus sleuths.
Derald lights a smoke and flicks its ash against an astray. He was all ears about the introductions of the others. Quite an interesting background they have; he felt that he was in the presence of accomplished mages who were really into that occult stuff.
A legitimate relative of D’ famous Animusphere, huh? I thought it was just a code name or something when I first applied and moved to this side of the States. I never thought I would ever meet one of the founding mages of astronomy. His story checks out since he’s British. He mumbled and thought to himself while looking at his new boss.
“Right, before I divulge any information about myself, are you sure you all won’t narc? I wouldn’t want to get in trouble with the local authorities. I feel like that broad gentleman over there has some law enforcement background written all over him.” Derald said, addressing Sunny.
“As much as I hate redundancy, allow me formally reintroduce myself for the sake of building trust with the people I’m working with. My name is Derald. I’m a dropout clocktower student and a mediocre mage at best. I find myself on a different path and pursue my career as an underground entrepreneur,” The young mafioso said, coughing out smoke and waving his hand.
“My magecraft is mostly based on poison and deception; it is inferior compared to other elite mages, but nevertheless, it gets the job done without the fancy stuff. You can use me as an informant and off the books task like spying and such.” He said
“Also, I can provide networks, information, and supplies if you need any, just hook me up ..on one condition: you didn’t hear it from me. “Derald winked.
“So this is the place, kinda reminds me of the back alley deals back in Manhattan, the kind where you can hear a muffled gunshot fired whenever a negotiation has gone south, hopefully this side of the neighborhood isn’t like that.” Derald sighed and looked at the well hidden alleyway where the agency was supposed to be.
“Que sera sera, I guess.” Derald adjusted his scarf and lit a cigarette as he entered the establishment. He skims the area and notices the not-so-ordinary people around it. So far, the way the toxicologist sees it, there’s a weird girl, another weirder girl in a funeral motif, an old reservist, and a boy whom he swears is a part of a mob (he can’t just prove it yet), and a classy chick who he assumes they came here for the same reason as he does.
He takes the last puff of his cigar before flicking it away, respecting the no-smoking policy of the cafe.
“Sorry, I’m a bit late, had to take care of some business. Cleaning up other people’s messes can be a drag.” Derald shifted his eyes averting others, reminiscing about the gang-related task he did this morning by his other employer.
“The name’s Derald, if anyone would care.” He bashfully introduce himself, scratching his neck.
“Just warm water with honey for me. got a frog in my throat.” He said hoarsely, signaling the friendly bartender.
The sickly young practitioner sits by the empty couch and minds his own business. Hopefully, this motley crew won’t mind him coughing every now and then.
Name : Derald Smith Age : 23 Date of Birth : Jan 19,1997 Address : Warehouse no.50, Tidewatch docks (clinic)/ 12f 203 West wing Pearlwind Hotel(condo unit)
C U R R I C U L L U M V I T A E
Education
2011-2013 2nd year student, Clocktower(dropout) Rank: Frame
Work/Organizational Experience
Personal Toxicologist(unlicense) 2016 -present
Independent Product Distributor (Smuggler) - Derald has a criminal network backing and funding him.
---
S K I L L S & O T H E R R E S O U R C E S
Magic Circuit Quantity: D-
Magic Circuit Quality: D
Magic Circuit Switch: A viper’s hiss
Element: Earth
Magecraft:
General Magecraft - All that rudimentary magic they teach at the Clocktower.
Magical Workshop (Backalley Clinic) - Located in the small county of Millahaven, this secret base under his makeshift clinic is where Derald hone and practices his craft.
Pharmacy - Derald is a man who firmly believes in modern medicine.
Item 1
Rags of Nothingness
Derald wears a scarf that conceals his true identity and his presence. Its unnatural scent of dirt and second-hand cigarette smoke dulls the senses of any human to a degree, making him almost unrecognizable to those who rely on those senses alone.
Item 2
Animal Tranquilizer/ Syringe needles/Basic Poison
This functions like a normal hypodermic needle, injecting fluids into one’s skin. Combined with his rudimentary reinforcement magic, Derald can use these needles as a projectile weapon just like an executor can throw their black keys.
Item 3
Cigarette.
Derald is a chain smoker, like a real chugger of this stuff, causing him to have a weak constitution due to years of substance abuse. This curse/blessing serves as a double-edged sword to him. On one hand, he is resistant to poisoning and other mental interference curses. On the other hand, he is pretty much susceptible to other harmful causes of magecraft and natural mortal wounds.
The toxin in his body helps calm his circuits, nerves, and brain, allowing him to stay focused.
Item 4
Fake ID Badge
Derald carries a flip badge that changes its description and image depending on his narrative to those people around him. A simple curse that distorts his image and status with the help of this license and a little sway of his words. Kind of like a reverse innocent monster attribute, this helps Derald blend in with the normal folks as your friendly neighborhood practitioner without being labeled as a part of a notorious gang/occult member due to his appearance.
---
C O V E R L E T T E R
Dear Leonardo Fidano, Head of the Sidereal Agency,
“Sigh I know this sounds desperate but I’m gonna keep it short. I’m Derald Smith, Real name, not my real last name.”
“I’m an ambitious wannabe medical personel who happens to be a mage who’s down on his luck, looking for some employment.”
“I wouldn’t consider myself a ‘mage’ but rather an individual who uses ‘magic’ as a tool to meet one’s end.”
“I’ve done some dirty work in the past and can’t say I’m proud of it. day by day I atone for my sins by helping the locals as an independent pharmacist — yeah, let's go with that.."
“tho i’ve seen some medical conditions that way above what medical science can’t cure. Perhaps some mystics are involved. The supernatural and such..”
“I’m good at spying and other tacky on-field stuff… due to my past experience.”
“So here’s to a new beginning. I look forward to working with the Sidereal agency. Hope you don’t mind the coughing.”
Sincerly, Derald.
---
“The last head of the hydra - I really hate that name” - Despite his lack of magecraft. Derald was chosen to bear the 500-year old crest of the Blightmore family. An elite generation of poisoner assassins and mages dating back to ancient Celtic times, when Druids cultivated the land and harvested yew trees as the main source of their deadly substance. Whether from poisoning unsuspecting monarchies from drinking their fancy cups to manufacturing cyanide pills that ended the Third Reich, you can be sure that Derald’s family has some minor involvement in these world-changing events without leaving a trace of their existence.
He is the last of his lineage ever since a curse was placed on the day he was born. This generational curse is said to trigger in the year 1990(s) where their magecraft would wither out and produce an offspring with subpar magic to carry that burden.
Derald is a pragmatic individual who comes from a long lineage of mages that owes a huge debt to one of the family heads of a powerful crime syndicate in America.
He was taken by one of the <redacted> zealots at the young age of 8. Forcing him to do some low-tier mob stuff, spying on the rival mob families as a harmless street child, or whatever disguise they opt for in their mission. He learns underhanded tactics under their wing, like smuggling out illegal drugs on the streets, and engages in other gang-related violence at a very young age.
Due to his abnormal tolerance to poison and his family’s loyalty to the <redacted> family, their head Lady <redacted> takes a liking to him and decides to nurture young Derald under her tutelage, serving as a personal food taster and their personal medic .She sees him as a wounded animal and a valuable asset . A pet project that could be useful in the future. So much so that he got enrolled at the Clock tower due to the <> influence, but sadly, that didn’t last long, and he only finished in 2 years at this prestigious school, earning the rank of frame.
He is under a binding contract with the <> mobsters and was given more leeway than most members. His task was to investigate and to do some research about the mystics involved in the Millhaven region, and scout the land for a potential base of operations.
He can identify most poisons just by tasting a small dose of them without getting poisoned himself.
He is a cinephile.
His favorite movie is The Princess Bride and Robin Hood, man in tights(which is the greatest adaptation of this character up to date)
Name : Derald Smith Age : 23 Date of Birth : Jan 19,1997 Address : Warehouse no.50, Tidewatch docks (clinic)/ 12f 203 West wing Pearlwind Hotel(condo unit)
C U R R I C U L L U M V I T A E
Education
2011-2013 2nd year student, Clocktower(dropout) Rank: Frame
Work/Organizational Experience
Personal Toxicologist(unlicense) 2016 -present
Independent Product Distributor (Smuggler) - Derald has a criminal network backing and funding him.
---
S K I L L S & O T H E R R E S O U R C E S
Magic Circuit Quantity: D-
Magic Circuit Quality: D
Magic Circuit Switch: A viper’s hiss
Element: Earth
Magecraft:
General Magecraft - All that rudimentary magic they teach at the Clocktower.
Magical Workshop (Backalley Clinic) - Located in the small county of Millahaven, this secret base under his makeshift clinic is where Derald hone and practices his craft.
Pharmacy - Derald is a man who firmly believes in modern medicine.
Item 1
Rags of Nothingness
Derald wears a scarf that conceals his true identity and his presence. Its unnatural scent of dirt and second-hand cigarette smoke dulls the senses of any human to a degree, making him almost unrecognizable to those who rely on those senses alone.
Item 2
Animal Tranquilizer/ Syringe needles/Basic Poison
This functions like a normal hypodermic needle, injecting fluids into one’s skin. Combined with his rudimentary reinforcement magic, Derald can use these needles as a projectile weapon just like an executor can throw their black keys.
Item 3
Cigarette.
Derald is a chain smoker, like a real chugger of this stuff, causing him to have a weak constitution due to years of substance abuse. This curse/blessing serves as a double-edged sword to him. On one hand, he is resistant to poisoning and other mental interference curses. On the other hand, he is pretty much susceptible to other harmful causes of magecraft and natural mortal wounds.
The toxin in his body helps calm his circuits, nerves, and brain, allowing him to stay focused.
Item 4
Fake ID Badge
Derald carries a flip badge that changes its description and image depending on his narrative to those people around him. A simple curse that distorts his image and status with the help of this license and a little sway of his words. Kind of like a reverse innocent monster attribute, this helps Derald blend in with the normal folks as your friendly neighborhood practitioner without being labeled as a part of a notorious gang/occult member due to his appearance.
---
C O V E R L E T T E R
Dear Leonardo Fidano, Head of the Sidereal Agency,
“Sigh I know this sounds desperate but I’m gonna keep it short. I’m Derald Smith, Real name, not my real last name.”
“I’m an ambitious wannabe medical personel who happens to be a mage who’s down on his luck, looking for some employment.”
“I wouldn’t consider myself a ‘mage’ but rather an individual who uses ‘magic’ as a tool to meet one’s end.”
“I’ve done some dirty work in the past and can’t say I’m proud of it. day by day I atone for my sins by helping the locals as an independent pharmacist — yeah, let's go with that.."
“tho i’ve seen some medical conditions that way above what medical science can’t cure. Perhaps some mystics are involved. The supernatural and such..”
“I’m good at spying and other tacky on-field stuff… due to my past experience.”
“So here’s to a new beginning. I look forward to working with the Sidereal agency. Hope you don’t mind the coughing.”
Sincerly, Derald.
---
“The last head of the hydra - I really hate that name” - Despite his lack of magecraft. Derald was chosen to bear the 500-year old crest of the Blightmore family. An elite generation of poisoner assassins and mages dating back to ancient Celtic times, when Druids cultivated the land and harvested yew trees as the main source of their deadly substance. Whether from poisoning unsuspecting monarchies from drinking their fancy cups to manufacturing cyanide pills that ended the Third Reich, you can be sure that Derald’s family has some minor involvement in these world-changing events without leaving a trace of their existence.
He is the last of his lineage ever since a curse was placed on the day he was born. This generational curse is said to trigger in the year 1990(s) where their magecraft would wither out and produce an offspring with subpar magic to carry that burden.
Derald is a pragmatic individual who comes from a long lineage of mages that owes a huge debt to one of the family heads of a powerful crime syndicate in America.
He was taken by one of the <redacted> zealots at the young age of 8. Forcing him to do some low-tier mob stuff, spying on the rival mob families as a harmless street child, or whatever disguise they opt for in their mission. He learns underhanded tactics under their wing, like smuggling out illegal drugs on the streets, and engages in other gang-related violence at a very young age.
Due to his abnormal tolerance to poison and his family’s loyalty to the <redacted> family, their head Lady <redacted> takes a liking to him and decides to nurture young Derald under her tutelage, serving as a personal food taster and their personal medic .She sees him as a wounded animal and a valuable asset . A pet project that could be useful in the future. So much so that he got enrolled at the Clock tower due to the <> influence, but sadly, that didn’t last long, and he only finished in 2 years at this prestigious school, earning the rank of frame.
He is under a binding contract with the <> mobsters and was given more leeway than most members. His task was to investigate and to do some research about the mystics involved in the Millhaven region, and scout the land for a potential base of operations.
He can identify most poisons just by tasting a small dose of them without getting poisoned himself.
He is a cinephile.
His favorite movie is The Princess Bride and Robin Hood, man in tights(which is the greatest adaptation of this character up to date)
Triss releases Damian from her clutches as soon as the four mysterious ladies arrive. Her smile quickly vanishes as the atmosphere shifted in a much more serious tone.
Judging by their face value alone, they appear to be somewhat unfriendly and don’t vibe with the rest of the reavers. The type of mean girls who walk into the classroom and cause nothing but trouble.
Their eyes pierce like daggers. Their features are like predators. Their presence is well known, as most staff members are immediately intimidated just by looking at them.
The dwarven warrior never got that impression or felt the same way about them. Sure, they meant business, but to her, they are just a bunch of beastfolk with some slick fashion sense. A fellow idol formed a group, perhaps?
Her years fighting in the arena fortified her resolve to never get intimidated or freeze in the face of danger. Her bravery shines along with her immortal flame rune engraved on her chest, which negates negative emotions such as the fear of the unknown.
In any case, within this span of numerous introductions and mysterious guests popping out of nowhere, Triss realized two crucial things. One: That she is hungry and Two: that Red-scale belua seems to be in a foul mood about something.
“You there, old lunch maiden. Git behind me, as someone who spends most of her life fighting in the ring, I know ill intent when I see one. That scaly lassie over there seems to be eying someone." Triss warned Bellum.
"If trouble starts to break out, I will not let these foreign ladies harm ya without sampling yor delicious meal inside muh belly after a long flight gettin' here.” Thinking with her stomach, Triss steps in front of the cowering staff, protecting what she thinks is the most important person in the room, which is the resident cook.
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