okay! Step 1: Time 2 (WTF happened yesterday?). Diff 5 -1 (taking his sweet assed time)
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (7, 8) ( success x 2 )
the devil
Derp deedooo, extending.
Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (4, 8) ( success x 1 )
the devil
aaaand one more
Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (2, 5) ( success x 1 )
the devil
Step 2: Time2/Entropy 1 ("On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is this?")
Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (2, 6) ( success x 1 )
the devil
That bad, huh?
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (3, 4) ( fail )
the devil
SERIOUSLY BRO
Dice: 2 d10 TN7 (6, 10) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
the devil
Dice: 2 d10 TN7 (4, 7) ( success x 1 )
the devil
I'd say time has successfully been scried.
the devil
(do a shot and then on to Round 3: USING THE INTERNET TO GOOGLE PEOPLE) Int 3+ computers 1: I can totally computer. Diff 7, because using official databases is hard
Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (2, 3, 4, 5) ( fail )
the devil
(It was then that Margot realized a valuable lesson- once you join the Order of Hermes, you immediately forget how to use a computer.)
Margot
[Move over and let the girl try. Intelligence 4 + Computers 1]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (1, 1, 3, 8, 8) ( success x 2 )
WilliamThe lead up tot his was pretty unremarkable. They carpooled to get to the place in question in Santa Fe. Will had his watch in hand and seemed... a bit spaced out. Walked a path along the area in what seemed to have been a very cleaned up area. Margot might have talked to wa waitress, or someone who had been around that day but even if she didn't the denizens of the arts district seemed more interested in getting drunk than talking about the grisly facts of what goes down in their area.
It doesn't happen often, gunshots- that is. This is colorado. You end up with passive stoners, not hard crime. Not shoot outs and drug hits and whatever was going on there. It's a high traffick enough area that it was hard to tell if the people who witnessed the whole thing were hanging out or just quiet. Not a drip of blood to be seen though.
When it's all said and done, Will seems content to go wherever they are going to step three- investigating in a mundane sense. It involved laptops and bottomless french fries. Will came up with nothing.
Margot, however, did happen to come up with a few things. The first of it all seemed easy enough, finding out about Jake and how he knew these people. It seemed unlikely, or at least odd, that he would work with these people. Jake Hendricks was twenty-one, got off probation last year for possession of a controlled substance and a couple misdemeanor charges coming out of being eighteen. A few reckless driving charges on top of that- kid liked to drive fast. He had the same probation officer as one of the men they had looked up- Orion Willis. Another person with priors for possession of a controlled substance, but a few more violent crimes under his belt, spent some time in jail for armed robbery.
There's something interesting about Saints' Rebellion, that Margot seems to find. The gang itsself, and all the names she finds, don't seem to lie across ethnic boundaries as most gangs do. A few leaked crime scene photos from up in Aurora of a particularly brutal-looking home invasion. A copy of a note with names and important pipeces blocked out that looked more like a religious manifesto than that of a gang pushing drugs in an area. And ye shall walk the road of a sinner (unintelligible scratched out writing) miracles revealed. Given that the unintelligible bit came up because it was stapled to a human torso.
DEnver PD tried to get the invasion linked to Orion Willis (the only readily confirmed member of the Saints), but all attempts have come up empty.
MargotFrench fries, laptops, watches and beer. It was St. Patrick's Day and they were crowded in at all sides by the people that thronged the Santa Fe neighborhood. But Magick wasn't easy to do from a distance, not for them at least. They needed to return to the crowded scene of the crime, and took advantage of the free wifi to conduct research while they were there.
Impatience flashed across Margot's face when William floundered with finding information on the names and key terms from the pages of the book, and she swiveled the laptop toward her with lightning-quick fingers and began a much more successful scouring of the internet. Leave it to The Brain to pull details from the Web.
As she continued to look upon the screen, a more concerned cast came over her features. At a certain point she stopped reading about possession and trafficking and robbery offenses and instead moved on to making out the oddly sanctified text that was apparently pinned onto a human torso. At a certain point, when she was finished with french fries and beer and research, she closed the laptop and looked to William. "Let's go talk."
So they loaded into the car and drove to Washington Park, because it was big and easy to find a place where the grass rolled and the street lamps didn't quite touch because the sidewalks were spaced so far between, and the tree leaves could cast shadows to help people ignore them even better. A cooler and blanket were pulled from the trunk of the car and carried on out to one such place on the grass, between a couple of trees and able to view a pond. The cooler had some more drinks in it, but also food. Margot went for a tupperware of cantelope and popped the lid off while sitting cross-legged on the blanket.
"The Saints' Rebellion takes their name very seriously. They leave nigh-religious rants printed out and pinned to the bodies of their victims."
WilliamThis was a close second for the most functional picnic that he has ever had, and oddly enough (or not so oddly enough, it was William) both of these things had to do with drugs and the societal implications therein. He was really starting to wonder if his life was turning into a DARE PSA, but then again he'd been pretty flean for awhie. Taking shit loses tis fun when you figure out that you can magick your way into the same reactions or, well, you could explore the universe and find out that the entirety of the outer realms are a lot like a bad trip.
They have a view of the pond, but he stays precisely where he is and doesn't skip merrily on his way to go dive into the thing. One, it's cold and two it's dangerous and he could be just fine with not acknowledging that water is a thing that he has to ever be in ever (no matter how hard he may be working on becoming okay with the fact that his impending demise isn't going to end up coming from a three foot puddle. (it's deeper than three feet, you know) SHHH Don't tell him that!)
He plopped, deposited a messenger bag and put his pocketwatch down beside them where he could see it. Tools laid bare.
"So, is it like the Westborough Baptist Church kind of rants or is it more apocalypse preacher-styled rants?"
Margot"Well, the note I saw specifically spoke of sinners and miracles."
There was fruit, a couple of protein-packed bars, some raddishes to offer as far as food went, some water to go along with anything else to drink too. She went after the raddishes next and crunched one while looking thoughtfully down at the watch on the blanket.
"I don't understand how it connects to trafficking drugs. I didn't see anything about them being connected to an actual church either. So maybe it's just that this one guy is crazy? But then the others wouldn't be allowing him to represent them like this, so I don't know." Crunch.
"What did you see, when you looked back?"
WilliamAs an interesting fact, it would seem that William? Actually really seems to like raddishes. Has been merrily chewing on one while she's talking and takes the opportunity to go for cantaloupe while she's going to the actual vegetable.
What did he see?
"So, Jake rounds the corner, we talk, he keeps going and looks like he's meeting up with his journalist friend," he starts, exhales and continues on along, "She's in the picture but not too close. Some guy comes out of one of the bars, starts to cross the street- shots are fired, but they aren't at him, first two are in the air- third pegs a fuckin' waitress in the shoulder. People scatter, there's a shit ton of confusion and some big guy-"
William goes back to the book, flips through the pages before he gets to the picture of Orion Willis and points it out "-this guy, pulls him into the back seat of a Meals on Wheels van. Plate number is QUE seven forty seven, but it expired two months ago. Van just fuckin' sits there until the cops show up, and then it drives off. It's like the gun shots were a diversion for the whole snatch-and-grab thing."
A second.
"Most likely results of our current path of study ends up with that reporter chick Vanessa Truong reporting that an unidentified pair of bodies were found on the shores of Sloan's Lake."
Margot"But that hasn't happened yet...," Margot clarified. It was most likely to happen, a glimpse at probability and outcomes in the future, based on what intentions were in place at the time William was making his look. Margot bit her lower lip thoughtfully, then leaned over to tap a finger on Orion's picture as well.
"He's the one that cops were trying to pin that invasion on-- the one with the religious note that was left? The book's right, he's not to be fucked with. I wouldn't be surprised if he likes killing." She wrinkled her nose, stared at the picture for a moment more, then straightened up again and fished in the cooler for some water to drink.
"...if that Vanessa woman was near, she would've had to have seen what happened. If she's a reporter she probably got the plates and is tracking the van and trying to figure this out too." Her lips pressed together, like she was sitting on her next sentence because she was reluctant to spit it out. Ultimately, though, she would. Her gaze swung up onto William's and she looked hopeful and apologetic both (about to ask him to do something).
"Could you talk to her? I'm just not... really very good with people overall. That's what your House does, though, isn't it?"
William"I have no problem going and talking to her; I figure I can come up with some reason to talk to a TV reporter, shouldn't be too hard," no, he was not going to cause a five car pile up. William drives of motorcycle. That would hurt. A lot.
"You wanna figure out what all this weird pseudoreligious BS has to do with street gangs? I mean, what, are they a gang having turf issues? Are they a religious group who is pushing drugs, what the fuck it's like the universe can't figure out what it wants to do with this," he half grumbles, but his heart isn't in it. He seems a little eager to keep on the move and keep up with this.
"We still handing this off to the cops?"
Margot"I don't know..." That, as to whether they should pass this off to the cops. She'd seemed very eager to do so yesterday, but something was just not sitting right with her. She rubbed her chin, popped another piece of cantelope into her mouth, and rocked back some on the blanket.
"When religion starts to mesh with things that it wouldn't ordinarily, that makes me wonder how... ordinary this all could be. If this is going to turn out to be something that's going to need Magickal influence to..." To what? Stop the bad guys? She stopped short there, scowling at herself and wondering since when she got any kind of a bee in her bonnet to stop drug dealers from doing what they do. Sure, her brother should be a big one-armed reason on his own, but she really just wanted to withdraw from all of that didn't she?
But there was something just not right about handing something supernaturally influenced off to human cops who wouldn't be anywhere near equipped to deal with it.
"Let me look into it further. Try and figure out what Saints' Rebellion really is. If it's mundane, then the cops can have everything and I'm out before somebody notices us snooping around at all."
It doesn't happen often, gunshots- that is. This is colorado. You end up with passive stoners, not hard crime. Not shoot outs and drug hits and whatever was going on there. It's a high traffick enough area that it was hard to tell if the people who witnessed the whole thing were hanging out or just quiet. Not a drip of blood to be seen though.
When it's all said and done, Will seems content to go wherever they are going to step three- investigating in a mundane sense. It involved laptops and bottomless french fries. Will came up with nothing.
Margot, however, did happen to come up with a few things. The first of it all seemed easy enough, finding out about Jake and how he knew these people. It seemed unlikely, or at least odd, that he would work with these people. Jake Hendricks was twenty-one, got off probation last year for possession of a controlled substance and a couple misdemeanor charges coming out of being eighteen. A few reckless driving charges on top of that- kid liked to drive fast. He had the same probation officer as one of the men they had looked up- Orion Willis. Another person with priors for possession of a controlled substance, but a few more violent crimes under his belt, spent some time in jail for armed robbery.
There's something interesting about Saints' Rebellion, that Margot seems to find. The gang itsself, and all the names she finds, don't seem to lie across ethnic boundaries as most gangs do. A few leaked crime scene photos from up in Aurora of a particularly brutal-looking home invasion. A copy of a note with names and important pipeces blocked out that looked more like a religious manifesto than that of a gang pushing drugs in an area. And ye shall walk the road of a sinner (unintelligible scratched out writing) miracles revealed. Given that the unintelligible bit came up because it was stapled to a human torso.
DEnver PD tried to get the invasion linked to Orion Willis (the only readily confirmed member of the Saints), but all attempts have come up empty.
MargotFrench fries, laptops, watches and beer. It was St. Patrick's Day and they were crowded in at all sides by the people that thronged the Santa Fe neighborhood. But Magick wasn't easy to do from a distance, not for them at least. They needed to return to the crowded scene of the crime, and took advantage of the free wifi to conduct research while they were there.
Impatience flashed across Margot's face when William floundered with finding information on the names and key terms from the pages of the book, and she swiveled the laptop toward her with lightning-quick fingers and began a much more successful scouring of the internet. Leave it to The Brain to pull details from the Web.
As she continued to look upon the screen, a more concerned cast came over her features. At a certain point she stopped reading about possession and trafficking and robbery offenses and instead moved on to making out the oddly sanctified text that was apparently pinned onto a human torso. At a certain point, when she was finished with french fries and beer and research, she closed the laptop and looked to William. "Let's go talk."
So they loaded into the car and drove to Washington Park, because it was big and easy to find a place where the grass rolled and the street lamps didn't quite touch because the sidewalks were spaced so far between, and the tree leaves could cast shadows to help people ignore them even better. A cooler and blanket were pulled from the trunk of the car and carried on out to one such place on the grass, between a couple of trees and able to view a pond. The cooler had some more drinks in it, but also food. Margot went for a tupperware of cantelope and popped the lid off while sitting cross-legged on the blanket.
"The Saints' Rebellion takes their name very seriously. They leave nigh-religious rants printed out and pinned to the bodies of their victims."
WilliamThis was a close second for the most functional picnic that he has ever had, and oddly enough (or not so oddly enough, it was William) both of these things had to do with drugs and the societal implications therein. He was really starting to wonder if his life was turning into a DARE PSA, but then again he'd been pretty flean for awhie. Taking shit loses tis fun when you figure out that you can magick your way into the same reactions or, well, you could explore the universe and find out that the entirety of the outer realms are a lot like a bad trip.
They have a view of the pond, but he stays precisely where he is and doesn't skip merrily on his way to go dive into the thing. One, it's cold and two it's dangerous and he could be just fine with not acknowledging that water is a thing that he has to ever be in ever (no matter how hard he may be working on becoming okay with the fact that his impending demise isn't going to end up coming from a three foot puddle. (it's deeper than three feet, you know) SHHH Don't tell him that!)
He plopped, deposited a messenger bag and put his pocketwatch down beside them where he could see it. Tools laid bare.
"So, is it like the Westborough Baptist Church kind of rants or is it more apocalypse preacher-styled rants?"
Margot"Well, the note I saw specifically spoke of sinners and miracles."
There was fruit, a couple of protein-packed bars, some raddishes to offer as far as food went, some water to go along with anything else to drink too. She went after the raddishes next and crunched one while looking thoughtfully down at the watch on the blanket.
"I don't understand how it connects to trafficking drugs. I didn't see anything about them being connected to an actual church either. So maybe it's just that this one guy is crazy? But then the others wouldn't be allowing him to represent them like this, so I don't know." Crunch.
"What did you see, when you looked back?"
WilliamAs an interesting fact, it would seem that William? Actually really seems to like raddishes. Has been merrily chewing on one while she's talking and takes the opportunity to go for cantaloupe while she's going to the actual vegetable.
What did he see?
"So, Jake rounds the corner, we talk, he keeps going and looks like he's meeting up with his journalist friend," he starts, exhales and continues on along, "She's in the picture but not too close. Some guy comes out of one of the bars, starts to cross the street- shots are fired, but they aren't at him, first two are in the air- third pegs a fuckin' waitress in the shoulder. People scatter, there's a shit ton of confusion and some big guy-"
William goes back to the book, flips through the pages before he gets to the picture of Orion Willis and points it out "-this guy, pulls him into the back seat of a Meals on Wheels van. Plate number is QUE seven forty seven, but it expired two months ago. Van just fuckin' sits there until the cops show up, and then it drives off. It's like the gun shots were a diversion for the whole snatch-and-grab thing."
A second.
"Most likely results of our current path of study ends up with that reporter chick Vanessa Truong reporting that an unidentified pair of bodies were found on the shores of Sloan's Lake."
Margot"But that hasn't happened yet...," Margot clarified. It was most likely to happen, a glimpse at probability and outcomes in the future, based on what intentions were in place at the time William was making his look. Margot bit her lower lip thoughtfully, then leaned over to tap a finger on Orion's picture as well.
"He's the one that cops were trying to pin that invasion on-- the one with the religious note that was left? The book's right, he's not to be fucked with. I wouldn't be surprised if he likes killing." She wrinkled her nose, stared at the picture for a moment more, then straightened up again and fished in the cooler for some water to drink.
"...if that Vanessa woman was near, she would've had to have seen what happened. If she's a reporter she probably got the plates and is tracking the van and trying to figure this out too." Her lips pressed together, like she was sitting on her next sentence because she was reluctant to spit it out. Ultimately, though, she would. Her gaze swung up onto William's and she looked hopeful and apologetic both (about to ask him to do something).
"Could you talk to her? I'm just not... really very good with people overall. That's what your House does, though, isn't it?"
William"I have no problem going and talking to her; I figure I can come up with some reason to talk to a TV reporter, shouldn't be too hard," no, he was not going to cause a five car pile up. William drives of motorcycle. That would hurt. A lot.
"You wanna figure out what all this weird pseudoreligious BS has to do with street gangs? I mean, what, are they a gang having turf issues? Are they a religious group who is pushing drugs, what the fuck it's like the universe can't figure out what it wants to do with this," he half grumbles, but his heart isn't in it. He seems a little eager to keep on the move and keep up with this.
"We still handing this off to the cops?"
Margot"I don't know..." That, as to whether they should pass this off to the cops. She'd seemed very eager to do so yesterday, but something was just not sitting right with her. She rubbed her chin, popped another piece of cantelope into her mouth, and rocked back some on the blanket.
"When religion starts to mesh with things that it wouldn't ordinarily, that makes me wonder how... ordinary this all could be. If this is going to turn out to be something that's going to need Magickal influence to..." To what? Stop the bad guys? She stopped short there, scowling at herself and wondering since when she got any kind of a bee in her bonnet to stop drug dealers from doing what they do. Sure, her brother should be a big one-armed reason on his own, but she really just wanted to withdraw from all of that didn't she?
But there was something just not right about handing something supernaturally influenced off to human cops who wouldn't be anywhere near equipped to deal with it.
"Let me look into it further. Try and figure out what Saints' Rebellion really is. If it's mundane, then the cops can have everything and I'm out before somebody notices us snooping around at all."
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