These are little snippets. I realize they will probably have to become collabs at some point, but this needed to be kicked in the ass.
I volunteered Longwood Estate for the meeting. It is big, secure, and the site of the last attack. So it makes sense. I don't see a need to write out the call to there or the frantic relay of calls to get everyone there. Just assume that if you want to be there, you were called.
I am also assuming the meetingis starting about 4 in the afternoon. This is so you can plan prior to sunset. Hunting vamps earlier rather than later is probably a good idea. Post all your snippets of dialog, thinking and such here....if you know where you want it, please tell me (i.e. after so and so picks his nose). And I'll get Lou to be my secondary proofreader (if that's okay Lou). I am keeping this one out of Heather's hands as much as possible.
Remember, Heather and Shawn can read all of this...and while I more-or-less trust them to not use out-of-character knowledge, don't assume they won't. So if you want to have a side-planning discussion to get edited in, send it to me via PM and I'll edit it into the post on the sly as best I can.
===
The man standing outside the door of the Longwood Estate wasn't familiar. Several of the White Hats had passed him by on their way into the meeting. When Daye arrived, he picked up his attache and extended a hand. "Ms. Blaise? My name is Watterston. Bill Watterston and I have important discussions to have with you and your fellow...," he paused - searched for a word and settled on one, "board members. Here is my card."
She glanced down at the neatly-printed raised-ink card. Bill Watterston, Esq. Wolfram & Hart.
===
Oz stood off to the side. He'd been watching the proceeds but keeping his presence low-key. He had noticed a few of the attendees glancing his way, but he wasn't sure if they had seen him. Mrs. O’Donnell had prepared crackers and cheese for the guests and a pot of tea, but they didn't seem much interested in them.
Oz thought perhaps that Kate's gaze was the most haunting. He could see the anguish in her eyes every time it wandered to the corner where he was waiting to step forward. Even Daye's grief at the loss of Drew wasn't as painful. Oz could only wonder why.
Even here, though, the mortals of the group looked like candle-flames. Flickering and waving in and out of his perception. It was hard to distinguish between them and their voices sounded far away. He had to concentrate just to follow the dialog as if listening to a conversation held behind him.
He envied angels like Brinkley and Ra who were firmly anchored on the mortal plane. Being "between" was stressful and he once again felt that call to join his bretheren in heaven.
===
Oz stepped forward into the discussion and concentrated to bring his presence forward. "Don't be afraid," he said automtically and felt like a moron for saying it to his friends. After all, Alessa had prepared them.
Light streamed from his body and his halo glowed with a warm golden light. His wings reflected the light around the room and {someone with demon blood} and {someone with an evil streak} winced slightly with the intensity. Oz tried to tone it down some, it was hard to tell who could see and who couldn't.
"It is hard to explain to you, friends, what this is like for me," he apologised, "but I am committed to this fight. I will do what I can to stop the abomination that has corrupted our dear friend's body. I just wanted you to know that I am here; I am listening; and i will help in any way I can."
{I will elaborate on the discussion here with any ideas I have}
He knew there would be a hundred questions, but he had been pushing hard the last few days to keep Alessa informed and being visible to this group was a terrible strain. He held up a hand, "Alessa and I are in frequent contact; and I may be able to speak with you individually, but it is hard to adress you as a group. I can't answer any questions now. I just wanted you let you know I was here and how I could help."
He slumped and relaxed the will to hold himself in the mortal plane. The light faded and to the assembled White Hats he faded from view. A few of the more perceptive ones followed his weary walk to the corner but lost a distinct vision of him as he relaxed there and faded from all but the most determined effort to see.
===
Mr. Watterston stood and addressed the group: "I represent The Victor Foundation, which you call, amusingly, the 'White Hats'. Mr. Vrithetek retained our services in the year 1720 to manage his accounts and holdings, which we have done proudly over that period of time. My direct predecessor on this account personally managed his funds for the last 175 years. The 'Victor Foundation' was a radical new direction for Mr. Vrithetek to take and while we advised against it, he was our client and we have facilitated the reorganization that he desired. He named the employees of the 'Victor Foundation' as the following five individuals in order of ascendence: Natasha Brookes, Tristen Barrington, Sam Aubrey and Reah Kossinton"
"It was made known to us through, um, channels, that Mr. Barrington died on October 31, 2006. We sent a letter to Miss Brookes detailing the procedure to name a new successor. She declined to respond. Through secondary divination - a service we provide to our long-term clientele - we becasme aware of Miss Brooke's, transformation. Normally, such a change of mortal state wouldn't have mattered to us, Mr. Vrithetek was most explicit about the handling of such an occurrance."
"He instructed us to deliver this letter," A letter he produced from his attache, "to the next person in succession of leadership in the 'Victor Foundation'. Unfortunately our tracking has seemed to have faltered. While we were able todetermine the location of htis assebly, we couldnot ascertain the whereabouts of Mr. Aubrey. We felt it was prudent to seek your assistance as the - ahem - governing body of the 'Victor Foundation' in reaching your new President. We should like to present him with these papers in person."
Mr Watterston then sat rather abruptly. He waved his hands at the room dismissively, "You can go back to your discussions. I've said what I came here to say."
{Daye will likely want to talk to this Watterston guy who may have left messages on her phone. He's also left messages for Reah and Sam on the office phone if anyone ever retrieves them ;) }
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Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Daye supressed the urge to turn and flee from the concerned stares and soft spoken condolences of her friends. She forced herself to be calm, to move forward towards the house and to return greetings. She wasn't even sure at this point what she said to each passing face. She just wanted to run screaming in the other direction. The last few days were a blur of impossibilities, of mind numbing horror and pain. She needed to get away, to retreat into a corner and gather her strength for the next part, but there was no way, no place. There was no time for her weakness. Tash had to be stopped. Now.
Daye paused in the doorway as a man, a stranger in a nice looking suit approached her.
The man standing outside the door of the Longwood Estate wasn't familiar. Several of the White Hats had passed him by on their way into the meeting. When Daye arrived, he picked up his attache and extended a hand. "Ms. Blaise? My name is Watterston. Bill Watterston and I have important discussions to have with you and your fellow...," he paused - searched for a word and settled on one, "board members. Here is my card."
*Watterston?* Daye thought as he extended his hand with his business card outstretched. She glanced down at the neatly-printed raised-ink card. Bill Watterston, Esq. Wolfram & Hart. *Wolfram and Hart?*
She raised her eyes and searched the entryway and surrounding porch quickly. She didn't see Marcus anywhere. Was this man here because of Marcus? Did this have something to do with Drew? Why would Wolfram and Hart send someone here to speak to them? Why now?
"I'm sorry...Mr. Waterston, I don't know why you're here," Daye said, her voice weary and hollow. "What is this about?"
"I really need to discuss this with all of your...'associates' at once, Ma'am," he replied primly. "Would you mind?"
Daye shook her head. What could she do? If Wolfram and Hart wanted to cause trouble now, well, that was just the next thing they would deal with. There was nothing else for it.
"No, it's fine," Daye gestured towards the inside of the estate. "Follow me. We'll go in and I'll get things started and then you can speak."
Waterston nodded and followed her into the house.
__
I'd like to move the waterston bit dave wrote. I think Daye will start the discussion about Tash...then maybe we can have the Oz bit and then daye can introduce waterston...although knowing where he's from...no, that should go at the beginning instead. Daye would not want him around listening to the planning session. What do you all think? I'll wait for feedback before I go on. Thanks.
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
I think dealing with the Wolfram & Hart bit first is better, nobody in that room would want them to listen to what they have to discuss and it will leave us the possibility of discussing what W&H had to say openly.
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
I would just like to point out before it gets too far along the track, that most of you will have no clue who or what Wolfram & Hart are beyond the fact that they're a firm of lawyers. Naturally, you still won't want outsiders present during your discussions, but W&H's sphere of activity shouldn't be common knowledge.
For instance, I had Tash deliberately unaware of them when she was looking at the letter from them way back when. She figured the WH was for White Hats. :)
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Although Daye will recognise them as the company that owned the building Marcus is renovating becasue of her involvement with him.
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Also, may I point out...Daye was a Watcher. Pretty sure there's a thick ass file somewhere on W&H...hell, there's probably a Watcher's Academy course on them somewhere along the way...
But yes, I do agree, that most would not know who they are. Daye's got a couple of unique qualifications in this instance.
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Okay...how's this so far...then the discussion...we can have prediscussion collabs fit in as well...we'll put the oz bits in later...well?
***
Daye supressed the urge to turn and flee from the concerned stares and soft spoken condolences of her friends. She forced herself to be calm, to move forward towards the house and to return greetings. She wasn't even sure at this point what she said to each passing face. She just wanted to run screaming in the other direction. The last few days were a blur of impossibilities, of mind numbing horror and pain. She needed to get away, to retreat into a corner and gather her strength for the next part, but there was no way, no place. There was no time for her weakness. Tash had to be stopped. Now.
Daye paused in the doorway as a man, a stranger in a nice looking suit approached her.
The man standing outside the door of the Longwood Estate wasn't familiar. Several of the White Hats had passed him by on their way into the meeting. When Daye arrived, he picked up his attache and extended a hand. "Ms. Blaise? My name is Watterston. Bill Watterston and I have important discussions to have with you and your fellow...," he paused - searched for a word and settled on one, "board members. Here is my card."
*Watterston?* Daye thought as he extended his hand with his business card outstretched. She glanced down at the neatly-printed raised-ink card. Bill Watterston, Esq. Wolfram & Hart. *Wolfram and Hart?*
She raised her eyes and searched the entryway and surrounding porch quickly. She didn't see Marcus anywhere. Was this man here because of Marcus? Did this have something to do with Drew? Why would Wolfram and Hart send someone here to speak to them? Why now?
"I'm sorry...Mr. Waterston, I don't know why you're here," Daye said, her voice weary and hollow. "What is this about?"
"I really need to discuss this with all of your...'associates' at once, Ma'am," he replied primly. "Would you mind?"
Daye shook her head. What could she do? If Wolfram and Hart wanted to cause trouble now, well, that was just the next thing they would deal with. There was nothing else for it.
"No, it's fine," Daye gestured towards the inside of the estate. "Follow me. We'll go in and I'll get things started and then you can speak."
Waterston nodded and followed her into the house.
Daye moved into the sitting room and stood by the window, waiting as everyone else entered and began to take their seats. She hated the pity in their eyes, the pall that hung over the room. This was all wrong.
Daye glanced at the lawyer standing just behind her. Wolfram and Hart. Yes. That was fitting. The whole damn world was wrong, so why wouldn't this threat rear it's ugly head now. Perfect sense.
Finally, the milling and whispering stopped as all eyes settled upon her Daye drew a deep, steadying breath. She scanned the crowd, White Hats and friends waiting impatiently for her to begin. She hoped no one noticed the stumble when her glance fell upon Marcus looking serious and sedate in his dark suit. She dared not acknowledge him. The police were suspicious enough. She wouldn't put her friends in that position as well.
"Hello," Daye spoke slowly, but clearly. "I'm sure most of you, if not all of you, know exactly why we've called this meeting. The White Hats are facing a unique threat."
Daye saw more than one of her friends nodding or leaning to whisper to one another. She glanced warily at Watterston. "Before we discuss this situation, and our options, though, I would like to allow this gentleman to speak to us for a moment. He's an attorney from Wolfram and Hart and apparently he has some business with the White Hats."
Daye realized that the significance of Wolfram and Hart was lost on most of the others, but when she caught Marcus' gaze he was staring with undisguised interest at the lawyer. Daye stepped back as Mr. Watterston moved forward to speak.
Mr. Watterston stood and addressed the group: "I represent The Victor Foundation, which you call, amusingly, the 'White Hats'. Mr. Vrithetek retained our services in the year 1720 to manage his accounts and holdings, which we have done proudly over that period of time. My direct predecessor on this account personally managed his funds for the last 175 years. The 'Victor Foundation' was a radical new direction for Mr. Vrithetek to take and while we advised against it, he was our client and we have facilitated the reorganization that he desired. He named the employees of the 'Victor Foundation' as the following five individuals in order of ascendence: Natasha Brookes, Tristen Barrington, Sam Aubrey and Reah Kossinton"
"It was made known to us through, um, channels, that Mr. Barrington died on October 31, 2006. We sent a letter to Miss Brookes detailing the procedure to name a new successor. She declined to respond. Through secondary divination - a service we provide to our long-term clientele - we becasme aware of Miss Brooke's, transformation. Normally, such a change of mortal state wouldn't have mattered to us, Mr. Vrithetek was most explicit about the handling of such an occurrance."
"He instructed us to deliver this letter," A letter he produced from his attache, "to the next person in succession of leadership in the 'Victor Foundation'. Unfortunately our tracking has seemed to have faltered. While we were able todetermine the location of this assembly, we could not ascertain the whereabouts of Mr. Aubrey. We felt it was prudent to seek your assistance as the - ahem - governing body of the 'Victor Foundation' in reaching your new President. We should like to present him with these papers in person."
Mr Watterston then sat rather abruptly. He waved his hands at the room dismissively, "You can go back to your discussions. I've said what I came here to say."
Daye stared in shock and dismay at the man. She realized now that Sam had mentioned someone calling for her over the last few days. Of course, now that she knew why, she wished she didn't. Sam...next in 'succession'? How could that be? What did it mean?
"Mr. Watterston," Daye pitched her voice low. "I may be able to help you find Samuel Aubrey."
Daye glanced up at her friends. "Not now, but...can I call you later to discuss it?"
"Fine...fine," Watterston tried to look sympathetic rather than impatient. "I...I know you've had a recent...tragedy...I can wait."
Daye nodded. She waited for the man to clear out of the room, all eyes upon him. Once he was gone, she turned back to her friends.
"Alright...you must all know why we're here," she said. "Tash is out there somewhere. We have to find her and we have to stop her....tonight...before anyone else gets hurt."
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Just becasue the Watchers' (as an organization) know something about them (and doubtless it isn't a lot) that doesn't mean that all Watcher's do. Wesley was clueless about them until he hooked up with Angel, and he had already been fired from the Council at that point. Now, it is possible he has shared some of his most recent discovery with them, but that won't have been cleared for the field yet.
No, I think a course on W&H is not likely. As far as the WC is concerned W&H is just a big team of lawyers that deal with demonic clientelle. That would be about the extent of anyone's knowledge without doing a lot of very specific digging.
However, there are the tales floating around LA about what happened in the old building.
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
This line should read:
It puts the emphasis on the idea that Victor expected she might meet her demise this way.
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Fair enough on the Watchers, but Daye's knowledge is more extensive because of Marcus, I think.
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
I'm gonna write something for this soon, I promise!!
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
I will have to as well, apparantly. Due to some changes in plans, which I blame Heather and Dave for wholeheartedly. :)
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
An impromptu collab produced this revision. Please make sure to indicate where any additions or revisions are going to go.
---
Sunday June 22, 2007 between 2pm and 4pm
Longwood Estates (Alessa's House)
Daye suppressed the urge to turn and flee from the concerned stares and soft spoken condolences of her friends. She forced herself to be calm, to move forward towards the house and to return greetings. She wasn’t even sure at this point what she said to each passing face. She just wanted to run screaming in the other direction. The last few hours were a blur of impossibilities, of mind numbing horror and pain. She needed to get away, to retreat into a corner and gather her strength for the next part, but there was no way, no place. There was no time for her weakness. Tash had to be stopped. Now.
The man standing outside the door of the Longwood Estate wasn’t familiar. Several of the White Hats had passed him by on their way into the meeting. When Daye arrived, he picked up his attaché and extended a hand. “Ms. Blaise? My name is Watterston, Bill Watterston, and I have important discussions to have with you and your fellow...” he paused, searched for a word and settled on one, “board members. Here is my card.”
*Watterston?* Daye thought as he extended his hand with his business card outstretched. She glanced down at the neatly-printed raised-ink card: Bill Watterston, Esq. Wolfram & Hart. *Wolfram and Hart?*
She raised her eyes and searched the entryway and surrounding porch quickly. She didn’t see Marcus anywhere. Was this man here because of Marcus? Did this have something to do with Drew? Why would Wolfram and Hart send someone here to speak to them? Why now?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Watterston, I don’t know why you’re here,” Daye said, her voice weary and hollow. “What is this about?”
“I really need to discuss this with all of your ‘associates’ at once, Ma’am,” he replied primly. “Would you mind?”
Daye shook her head. What could she do? If Wolfram and Hart wanted to cause trouble now, well, that was just the next thing they would deal with. There was nothing else for it.
“No, it’s fine,” Daye gestured towards the inside of the estate. “Follow me. We’ll go in and I’ll get things started and then you can speak.”
Watterston nodded and followed her into the house.
Daye moved into the sitting room and stood by the window, waiting as everyone else entered and began to take their seats. She hated the pity in their eyes, the pall that hung over the room. This was all wrong.
Daye glanced at the lawyer standing just behind her. Wolfram and Hart. Yes. That was fitting. The whole damn world was wrong, so why wouldn’t this threat rear its ugly head now. Perfect sense.
Finally, the milling and whispering stopped. As all eyes settled upon her Daye drew a deep, steadying breath. She scanned the crowd, White Hats and friends waiting impatiently for her to begin. She hoped no one noticed the stumble when her glance fell upon Marcus looking serious and sedate in his dark suit. She dared not acknowledge him. The police were suspicious enough. She wouldn’t put her friends in that position as well.
“Hello,” Daye spoke slowly, but clearly. “I’m sure most of you, if not all of you, know exactly why we’ve called this meeting. The White Hats are facing a unique threat.”
Daye saw more than one of her friends nodding or leaning to whisper to one another. She glanced warily at Watterston. “Before we discuss this situation and our options, though, I would like to allow this gentleman to speak to us for a moment. He’s an attorney from Wolfram and Hart and apparently he has some business with the White Hats.”
Daye realized that the significance of Wolfram and Hart was lost on most of the others, but when she caught Marcus’ gaze he was staring with undisguised interest at the lawyer. Daye stepped back as Mr. Watterston moved forward to speak.
Mr. Watterston stood and addressed the group: “I represent the Victor Foundation, which you call, amusingly, the ‘White Hats’. Mr. Vrithetek retained our services in the year 1720 to manage his accounts and holdings, which we have done proudly over that period of time. My direct predecessor on this account personally managed his funds for the last 175 years. The ‘Victor Foundation’ meant a radical new direction for Mr. Vrithetek to take and while we advised him against it, he was our client and we have facilitated the reorganization that he desired. He named the employees of the ‘Victor Foundation’ as the following five individuals in order of hiring: Natasha Brookes, Tristan Barrington, Sam Aubrey and Reah Kossinton.
“It was made known to us through, um, channels, that Mr. Barrington died on October 31, 2006. We sent a letter to Miss Brookes detailing the procedure to name a new successor. She declined to respond. Through other means we became aware of Miss Brookes’ transformation. Normally such a change of mortal state wouldn’t have mattered to us; however, Mr. Vrithetek was most explicit about the handling of such an occurrence.
“He instructed us to deliver this letter,” he produced a letter from his attaché, “to the next person in succession of leadership in the ‘Victor Foundation’. Unfortunately our records aren’t up to date. While we were able to discern the location of this assembly, we could not firmly determine the whereabouts of Mr. Aubrey. We felt it was prudent to seek your assistance as the – ahem – governing body of the ‘Victor Foundation’ in reaching your new President. We should like to present him with these papers in person.”
Daye stared in shock and dismay at the man. She realized now that Sam had mentioned someone calling for her over the last few days. Of course, now that she knew why, she wished she didn’t. Sam – ‘next in succession’? How could that be? What did it mean?
“Mr. Watterston,” Daye pitched her voice low. “I may be able to help you find Samuel Aubrey.” Daye glanced up at her friends. “Not now, but can I call you later to discuss it?”
“Fine, fine.” Watterston tried to look sympathetic rather than impatient, “I know you’ve had a recent tragedy. I can wait. But this is an urgent matter; the future of the Foundation does depend on dealing with this in a timely manner. Should Miss Brookes,” he glanced at the assemblage, “cease to be before this is resolved, then the Foundation may fall into a contingency plan that would involve liquidation and disbursement.”
Daye frowned. The last thing she needed now was this man and his attitude. “Yes, well, I assure you, I understand the significance of all the events that have transpired over the last few hours. I can and will assist you, as soon as I’m able to. Threats, even veiled ones, are unnecessary.”
Daye fought down the completely out of proportion anger that was bubbling up inside of her. “I have no intention of allowing all that Victor worked for go to waste. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m not entirely comfortable with you being privy to any plans we may be discussing here.”
“Ms. Blaise, there is no reason to be hostile here. I am just the messenger.” The smirk on Watterton’s face told a different story, but his posture indicated he wasn’t going to push it. “I’ll just leave these cards here for your friends who might have questions and I’ll be on my way.” He turned to the crowd of sad faced heroes. “Nice to meet you all.”
Watterston left and his voice speaking into his cell phone echoed down the hall as he let himself out of the mansion. Marcus watched the departing Watterston carefully then pocketed one of the cards. So that was what a Wolfram and Hart lawyer looked like. Considering the pitfalls they’d left behind in their building he wasn’t surprised they dealt so casually with the occult. Legal counsel with an understanding of events might make things easier with that Detective.
“So, Miss Brookes is now a vampire. Unless you’re determined to use extraordinary methods that means she should be staked. Especially since she no doubt realises you’re the greatest threat to her survival. We need to move quickly. All I need is an object that has been in her possession for some time. I can find her for you and we can do what is necessary.”
Daye stood stock still for a moment, staring at Marcus. Her anger suddenly focused on him. *Miss Brookes,* she thought. *As if she wasn’t his friend. As if she wasn’t important. ‘Should be staked.’ Really?!*
“You think it’s that simple, do you, Mr. Dalton?” Daye’s voice dripped acid. “Well, aren’t we lucky to have your guidance? Whatever would we do without your brilliant insight?”
Marcus fired back, “You’d get hung up on it looking like your friend. Yes it has her body; her memories; probably even a great deal of her personality, but let’s be quite clear. The animating spirit is not a human soul. It’s a demon. A demon that’s a threat to you all.”
*First the lawyer, now this.* Kyle shook his head. He had watched the representative from Wolfram and Hart closely, flicking the lid of his zippo lighter open and closed. There was something about lawyers that just got him on edge. He was pretty damn sure, after all, that Wolfram & Hart had some involvement with his father’s death. As far as he was concerned, that made them responsible for his life spiraling slowly into hell. He’d like nothing more than to wrap his hands around Mr. Watterston’s neck.
Snapping the lighter closed he pushed himself off of the wall, moving further into the room and looking mostly at Daye. “I can’t believe you people.” His tone wasn’t forgiving. “Whilst we’re sitting here all talking about this, she’s out there doing vampire things!”
He paused. “Killing people, remember? I agree with scary necromancer guy. She’s not Tash anymore, she’s a damned bloodsucker. We gotta get out of here, hunt her down and stake her good.” As he looked around at some of the aghast faces staring at him Kyle’s voice dropped and he looked down. “It’s what I’d want and she’d probably want it too…”
Again he shook his head and returned to his patch of wall in the corner. “Smooth, man,” said Hayden, perched comfortably on a desk with his legs swinging back and forth like a child. The ghost held his hands up in mock defence as Kyle shot him a withering glare.
Ellis slapped his hand angrily on the arm of the chair, “She’s not killing anyone in the middle of the afternoon, and you know it. I have the Demon Police out on the streets looking for her now, but she’s gone to ground before sunrise almost certainly. You also have to remember that this is – was – your tactical commander. She taught you all to fight as a group. Don’t you think she’s going to avoid the places you’d automatically search for her?”
Ellis bit down on his lip to control the urge to scream at these people about their carelessness. Letting anyone hunt alone was a grave error, no matter how experienced she was. He could feel the dread in his soul that under different circumstances it could be him that they were planning to turn to dust.
Alessa looked from Ellis’ frowning face to her friends, and she tried to put some order to her thoughts. They all ‘knew’ they had to hunt Tash. It wasn’t as if they needed any reminders and they weren’t inexperienced or incompetent; just shocked to the core. However, maybe they needed Marcus’, Kyle’s and Ellis’ more detached points of view to start moving.
“I think that if Mr. Dalton, here, can track Tash we have an advantage she may not be aware of.” She bit her lip and looked at the necromancer. “We just need to be pointed in the right direction. We know what we have to do afterwards.”
Oz stood off to the side. He’d been watching the proceeds but keeping his presence low-key. He had noticed a few of the attendees glancing his way, but he wasn’t sure if they had seen him. Oz thought perhaps that Kate’s gaze was the most haunting. He could see the anguish in her eyes every time it wandered to the corner where he was waiting to step forward. Even Daye’s grief at the loss of Drew wasn’t as painful. Oz could only wonder why.
Even here, though, the mortals of the group looked like candle-flames. Flickering and waving in and out of his perception. It was hard to distinguish between them and their voices sounded far away. He had to concentrate just to follow the dialog as if listening to a conversation held behind him. He envied angels like Brinkley and Ra who were firmly anchored on the mortal plane. Being “between” was stressful and he once again felt that call to join his brethren in heaven.
The tempers of those in the room were rising. The darkness that crept into the lights was clear. He heard them calmly discussing the destruction of Tash. Dalton’s darkness was the worst. The magic he commanded had turned the normally cheery brightness of his mortality into a grey, frighteningly cold light.
A personal item. Oz heard it clearly. The sooner they could get started the less of an edge she would have. Oz flew out to Poplar Avenue to retrieve something of Tash’s for Dalton so he could perform his spell.
He reached the building quickly, and stopped only to greet the door guardian – the Angel that protected this building from the forces of evil. Every house had one that would stand between the vampires and the owners. It was a lowly order of angels but, oh, so very important. He dashed to her apartment and entered using his divine powers to bypass the door and wards against evil.
Inside he glanced around. There were dozens of crosses, large and small. He had remembered she always wore one when she hunted. How appropriate that such should be her downfall. He walked into her bedroom and glanced around. Her dresser was cluttered with spent casings and various elements of hunting: holy water and stakes next to earrings and lipstick. There was a pile of laundry on the floor, dusty and smelling of sweat. He got melancholy about how she had been torn from this mortal realm too soon, but Oz had people waiting. He lifted a particularly delicate silver cross from the dresser top and headed back to the mansion.
As Oz was leaving the mansion, Darian stood. “We can find her simply enough,” he said, “but who gets the ‘honor’ of doing her in?”
He whirled on Marcus, “You? Why not you?” he said to Ellis. “This may be a demon wearing Tash’s face, but is the best magic you can muster to deal with this a spell to find her? Why not try to un-vampire her?”
Darian’s eyes were getting watery. He stood there hoping against hope that there would be some way to not lose Tash. Wishing for some way that he could save her life after she had saved all of theirs so many times.
Ellis stood and put his hand on Darian’s shoulder. “Sit down. You know that isn’t going to happen, don’t you? Deal with it.”
Darian pushed Ellis back and stormed out. “I’ll deal with it. I’ll deal with it myself.”
Reah stepped in front of him and extended her claws. “The man said sit.”
Darian stood a long second then sulked back to his seat. Reah followed and sat herself. “This is not about our feelings, people, this is a threat,” she said in a cold voice. “We deal with the threat then we deal with our feelings.”
Nikolai cleared his throat gently. “It’s not just as a threat that we should view this. Tasha was a good friend to have but she is dead now. She was killed by the thing she hated the most, and worse than that – she has become the thing she hated. The Tasha I knew would not want to continue like that.” He lifted his head and took in the faces of all those in the room. “She would not want her body to be used by a demon. More than eliminating a threat to ourselves, we owe it to our friend to see that she can be laid to rest.”
Oz stepped forward into the discussion and concentrated to bring his presence forward. “Don’t be afraid,” he said automatically and felt like a moron for saying it to his friends. After all, Alessa had prepared them. Light streamed from his body and his halo glowed with a warm golden light. His wings reflected the light around the room and Kyle and Dalton winced slightly with the intensity. Oz tried to tone it down some; it was hard to tell who could see and who couldn’t.
“It is hard to explain to you, friends, what this is like for me,” he apologized, “but I am committed to this fight. I will do what I can to stop the abomination that has corrupted our dear friend’s body. I just wanted you to know that I am here; I am listening and I am helping wherever I can.”
Oz laid the cross gently on the table before Marcus. “I got this from her apartment,” he said, not needing to elaborate on whose apartment he meant, “It should be enough to find her. If you need anything else I am listening in, but manifesting like this takes effort.” He knew there would be a hundred questions, but he had been pushing hard the last few days to keep Alessa informed and being visible to this group was a terrible strain.
He held up a hand. “Alessa and I are in frequent contact and I may be able to speak with you individually, but it is hard to address you as a group. I can’t answer any questions now. I just wanted you let you know I was here and try to help.”
He slumped and relaxed the will to hold himself in the mortal plane. The light faded and to the assembled White Hats he faded from view. A few of the more perceptive ones followed his weary walk to the corner but lost a distinct vision of him as he relaxed there and faded from all but the most determined effort to see.
Marcus picked up the cross let it dangle from its chain for a second. “I’ll need some salt, a candle and a needle”. He looked around the room and the White Hats leaning forward to witness the deed. “And a little space.”
“There are candles there, over the mantelpiece. I’ll get you the salt and needle.” Alessa hastily stood up and moved to the door; she’d welcome a little time alone, even if it were brief. She felt Ellis’ hand on her waist and turned to add, “Can you work here? There’s plenty of space in this house if not.”
Marcus smiled. “It’s fine.” When Alessa returned with the other ingredients he squatted down and placed the cross on the floor. He poured out a circle of salt around it and then pricked his finger on the needle.
“The vessel.” Marcus’ words leeched heat from the air throughout the room and the cross began to glow with a pale white gleam.
“The hunger.” A single drop of blood fell from his out stretch finger to turn the light crimson.
“Show me.” The needle floated into the air and began to turn slowly, like a compass settling. When it finally stilled Marcus smiled.
“She’s that way.”
Reah was on her feet. “I’m driving!”
Kyle was shouting “Shotgun!” in unison with Darian.
Ellis looked up from the floating needle to the demon and Claw Girl who were already moving to the door and he humphed. “That way? That’s all you can say?” he asked the necromancer. “Half the planet is that way, the other half that other,” he said, signalling the opposite direction.
“Take bearing. Get a map. It’s a simple spell we can repeat as necessary.”
Galen whispered to Kate who left. He explained, “I have a detailed map in the car. Kate has gone to retrieve it, but this won’t work. We are so far away from downtown L.A. that in order for this to work we’ll have to drive for hours to get enough triangulations to pinpoint her closer than a few city blocks. By the time we find out which of the several thousand skyscrapers she’s in between here and Arizona she’ll be long gone.”
Marcus gave Galen a look. “Fine. We get close enough, I can feel her. She’s the walking dead and that makes her mine. Does any one have any constructive suggestions?”
Daye gave Marcus a withering look. She was still seething from his earlier comments. “I believe Galen’s suggestion was constructive. I doubt we’ll find her before the sun sets and she goes on the move. It’ll be mid-afternoon before we even get to town from here, as Galen pointed out, and we’ll need to triangulate. Look, we’re all well aware of what we have to do. There’s no need for you to keep harping on it, okay? We’re going to go kill her before she kills any more of us. She’s already taken Drew…”
Daye faltered, her voice catching, but she kept on, her voice growing louder as anger fuelled her. “We’re going to go kill what’s left of our friend. We just want to make sure we do it right. Right now the only plan we have is to follow this line and wait until we’re close enough for you to do your oh-so-mighty necromancer thing and point her out. Then what? Tell me that, Mister Dalton. Then what? Do we all surround her and beat her into the ground? Do we let you unleash something horrible on her? What then?”
She stopped suddenly; on her feet and swaying from the emotion that was tearing her heart in two. Her anger was stuck in her throat in an uncomfortable knot. That they had to make these plans was bad enough, but to have Marcus sit in his corner and make sarcastic remarks – that was just too much for her to bear.
“I was thinking about crucifying her on an east-facing wall but I imagine you’re all too squeamish for that,” Marcus replied icily. “She’s a newly risen vampire; for all the potential she has, right now she is absolutely zero threat to me. If you want my help, fine – I’ll help. We’ll find her and when we do I’ll hold her still and assuming one of you can’t cut off her head or ram a stake through her heart I will. If it’s too late to hunt her today then perhaps we can start tomorrow at dawn. That way we’ll have time to drive around the city, triangulate her position and descend upon her lair. Strangely enough I seem to be the only one solving problems here. Everyone else is still hung up on why it won’t work.”
“It’s not like that and you know it.” Alessa spoke evenly, but her temper was starting to flare. She could feel the current going through Marcus to Daye and didn’t quite know if she understood it. But her friend was maddeningly angry, and she was going the road. “We are all ‘solving’ the problem, or you wouldn’t be here. We appreciate your help, and we’ll use it.”
She took a look around, “And when you locate her, we’ll dust her.” She looked into the necromancer’s eyes, still remembering his words to Delancre. “Just that. It’s our place to do it.”
Ells stepped up to join Alessa, “Your mumbo-jumbo is convenient, Dalton. Some of us have other methods that are less mystical. This is a team effort. So don’t think that you are going to solve this without us, and we are bringing you along.” *Even though I’d just as soon leave him to rot in his tomb,* Ellis thought to himself.
Loathing. It was the best word Nikolai had for what emanated towards Marcus from almost everyone in the room to a certain degree. Add in to this a large amount of anger, and he couldn’t see anything good coming out of this.
“Izvenechya,” he began softly, “but if I may suggest one thing; this arguing isn’t helping us. Being agitated is understandable, but if I were Tasha, I know what I would do: I would leave this city before my friends put me out of my misery. She can’t move during the day. This means that the more time we waste bickering, the less time we have to find her. Once the sun goes down, Tasha gets to move about freely. While Marcus may have his limitations, this may be the best way to enable us to at least try and track her movements.”
Galen stood. “Nikolai is right. The worst thing we could do right now is lose our heads. We need to stay calm and stay focused. Unpleasant as it may be, we have a job to do. Reah, Kyle and Darian have already gone off on Marcus’ heading. I suggest we split into two more teams and do the same. Tash may go on the move tonight, but if we can find her trail and get more readings we’ll slowly close the net around her.”
He considered the various talents of the people in the room and came to a quick decision, ensuring an even split of magic ability and fighting strength. “How about Nikolai joins me and Kate while Alessa, Ellis, Daye and Marcus…”
He paused, glancing for a moment at Daye who now sat huddled with her arms clutched around her, and then at Marcus. “Or – perhaps it would be better if Daye went with Kate and me, while Nikolai goes with Alessa, Ellis and Marcus.”
---
This ends with groups having been assigned...feel free to write about the hunt. However, Heather has asked for a couple of days of VampTash before the capture. So any bits that you follow on your trail of Tash should end in either disappointment or just pieces of a puzzle, not the puzzle itself.
Be sure that you remember that Ellis, the Demon Police and Reah and her Strike force are doing the same things, so communicate and coordinate.
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Just in case, Matt and I have a collab that was set 'after' the meeting, but i completely forgot about it (it was written long ago) :oops: So now it has to go 'before' the meeting, and i have to modify it with him to fit.
Please dont post this one until we post ours. It wont take long, as long as i take to speak with him. :D
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
I've added a couple of things and made one minor revision. Green is my new stuff...
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Sunday June 22, 2007 between 2pm and 4pm
Longwood Estates (Alessa's House)
Daye suppressed the urge to turn and flee from the concerned stares and soft spoken condolences of her friends. She forced herself to be calm, to move forward towards the house and to return greetings. She wasn’t even sure at this point what she said to each passing face. She just wanted to run screaming in the other direction. The last few hours were a blur of impossibilities, of mind numbing horror and pain. She needed to get away, to retreat into a corner and gather her strength for the next part, but there was no way, no place. There was no time for her weakness. Tash had to be stopped. Now.
The man standing outside the door of the Longwood Estate wasn’t familiar. Several of the White Hats had passed him by on their way into the meeting. When Daye arrived, he picked up his attaché and extended a hand. “Ms. Blaise? My name is Watterston, Bill Watterston, and I have important discussions to have with you and your fellow...” he paused, searched for a word and settled on one, “board members. Here is my card.”
*Watterston?* Daye thought as he extended his hand with his business card outstretched. She glanced down at the neatly-printed raised-ink card: Bill Watterston, Esq. Wolfram & Hart. *Wolfram and Hart?*
She raised her eyes and searched the entryway and surrounding porch quickly. She didn’t see Marcus anywhere. Was this man here because of Marcus? Did this have something to do with Drew? Why would Wolfram and Hart send someone here to speak to them? Why now?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Watterston, I don’t know why you’re here,” Daye said, her voice weary and hollow. “What is this about?”
“I really need to discuss this with all of your ‘associates’ at once, Ma’am,” he replied primly. “Would you mind?”
Daye shook her head. What could she do? If Wolfram and Hart wanted to cause trouble now, well, that was just the next thing they would deal with. There was nothing else for it.
“No, it’s fine,” Daye gestured towards the inside of the estate. “Follow me. We’ll go in and I’ll get things started and then you can speak.”
Watterston nodded and followed her into the house.
Daye moved into the sitting room and stood by the window, waiting as everyone else entered and began to take their seats. She hated the pity in their eyes, the pall that hung over the room. This was all wrong.
Daye glanced at the lawyer standing just behind her. Wolfram and Hart. Yes. That was fitting. The whole damn world was wrong, so why wouldn’t this threat rear its ugly head now. Perfect sense.
Finally, the milling and whispering stopped. As all eyes settled upon her Daye drew a deep, steadying breath. She scanned the crowd, White Hats and friends waiting impatiently for her to begin. She hoped no one noticed the stumble when her glance fell upon Marcus looking serious and sedate in his dark suit. She dared not acknowledge him. The police were suspicious enough. She wouldn’t put her friends in that position as well.
“Hello,” Daye spoke slowly, but clearly. “I’m sure most of you, if not all of you, know exactly why we’ve called this meeting. The White Hats are facing a unique threat.”
Daye saw more than one of her friends nodding or leaning to whisper to one another. She glanced warily at Watterston. “Before we discuss this situation and our options, though, I would like to allow this gentleman to speak to us for a moment. He’s an attorney from Wolfram and Hart and apparently he has some business with the White Hats.”
Daye realized that the significance of Wolfram and Hart was lost on most of the others, but when she caught Marcus’ gaze he was staring with undisguised interest at the lawyer. Daye stepped back as Mr. Watterston moved forward to speak.
Mr. Watterston stood and addressed the group: “I represent the Victor Foundation, which you call, amusingly, the ‘White Hats’. Mr. Vrithetek retained our services in the year 1720 to manage his accounts and holdings, which we have done proudly over that period of time. My direct predecessor on this account personally managed his funds for the last 175 years. The ‘Victor Foundation’ meant a radical new direction for Mr. Vrithetek to take and while we advised him against it, he was our client and we have facilitated the reorganization that he desired. He named the employees of the ‘Victor Foundation’ as the following five individuals in order of hiring: Natasha Brookes, Tristan Barrington, Sam Aubrey and Reah Kossinton.
“It was made known to us through, um, channels, that Mr. Barrington died on October 31, 2006. We sent a letter to Miss Brookes detailing the procedure to name a new successor. She declined to respond. Through other means we became aware of Miss Brookes’ transformation. Normally such a change of mortal state wouldn’t have mattered to us; however, Mr. Vrithetek was most explicit about the handling of such an occurrence.
“He instructed us to deliver this letter,” he produced a letter from his attaché, “to the next person in succession of leadership in the ‘Victor Foundation’. Unfortunately our records aren’t up to date. While we were able to discern the location of this assembly, we could not firmly determine the whereabouts of Mr. Aubrey. We felt it was prudent to seek your assistance as the – ahem – governing body of the ‘Victor Foundation’ in reaching your new President. We should like to present him with these papers in person.”
Daye stared in shock and dismay at the man. She realized now that Sam had mentioned someone calling for her over the last few days. Of course, now that she knew why, she wished she didn’t. Sam – ‘next in succession’? How could that be? What did it mean?
“Mr. Watterston,” Daye pitched her voice low. “I may be able to help you find Samuel Aubrey.” Daye glanced up at her friends. “Not now, but can I call you later to discuss it?”
“Fine, fine.” Watterston tried to look sympathetic rather than impatient, “I know you’ve had a recent tragedy. I can wait. But this is an urgent matter; the future of the Foundation does depend on dealing with this in a timely manner. Should Miss Brookes,” he glanced at the assemblage, “cease to be before this is resolved, then the Foundation may fall into a contingency plan that would involve liquidation and disbursement.”
Daye frowned. The last thing she needed now was this man and his attitude. “Yes, well, I assure you, I understand the significance of all the events that have transpired over the last few hours. I can and will assist you, as soon as I’m able to. Threats, even veiled ones, are unnecessary.”
Daye fought down the completely out of proportion anger that was bubbling up inside of her. “I have no intention of allowing all that Victor worked for go to waste. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m not entirely comfortable with you being privy to any plans we may be discussing here.”
“Ms. Blaise, there is no reason to be hostile here. I am just the messenger.” The smirk on Watterton’s face told a different story, but his posture indicated he wasn’t going to push it. “I’ll just leave these cards here for your friends who might have questions and I’ll be on my way.” He turned to the crowd of sad faced heroes. “Nice to meet you all.”
Watterston left and his voice speaking into his cell phone echoed down the hall as he let himself out of the mansion. Marcus watched the departing Watterston carefully then pocketed one of the cards. So that was what a Wolfram and Hart lawyer looked like. Considering the pitfalls they’d left behind in their building he wasn’t surprised they dealt so casually with the occult. Legal counsel with an understanding of events might make things easier with that Detective.
“So, Miss Brookes is now a vampire. Unless you’re determined to use extraordinary methods that means she should be staked. Especially since she no doubt realises you’re the greatest threat to her survival. We need to move quickly. All I need is an object that has been in her possession for some time. I can find her for you and we can do what is necessary.”
Daye stood stock still for a moment, staring at Marcus. Her anger suddenly focused on him. *Miss Brookes,* she thought. *As if she wasn’t his friend. As if she wasn’t important. ‘Should be staked.’ Really?!*
“You think it’s that simple, do you, Mr. Dalton?” Daye’s voice dripped acid. “Well, aren’t we lucky to have your guidance? Whatever would we do without your brilliant insight?”
Marcus fired back, “You’d get hung up on it looking like your friend. Yes it has her body; her memories; probably even a great deal of her personality, but let’s be quite clear. The animating spirit is not a human soul. It’s a demon. A demon that’s a threat to you all.”
*First the lawyer, now this.* Kyle shook his head. He had watched the representative from Wolfram and Hart closely, flicking the lid of his zippo lighter open and closed. There was something about lawyers that just got him on edge. He was pretty damn sure, after all, that Wolfram & Hart had some involvement with his father’s death. As far as he was concerned, that made them responsible for his life spiraling slowly into hell. He’d like nothing more than to wrap his hands around Mr. Watterston’s neck.
Snapping the lighter closed he pushed himself off of the wall, moving further into the room and looking mostly at Daye. “I can’t believe you people.” His tone wasn’t forgiving. “Whilst we’re sitting here all talking about this, she’s out there doing vampire things!”
He paused. “Killing people, remember? I agree with scary necromancer guy. She’s not Tash anymore, she’s a damned bloodsucker. We gotta get out of here, hunt her down and stake her good.” As he looked around at some of the aghast faces staring at him Kyle’s voice dropped and he looked down. “It’s what I’d want and she’d probably want it too…”
Again he shook his head and returned to his patch of wall in the corner. “Smooth, man,” said Hayden, perched comfortably on a desk with his legs swinging back and forth like a child. The ghost held his hands up in mock defence as Kyle shot him a withering glare.
Daye stared at Kyle, biting back the urge to lash out at him as well. She might be willing, or at the very least unable to stop herself from letting her anger flare at Marcus, but the Kaoshian certainly had done nothing to garner her wrath. She felt a shiver rush through her body and hugged her arms tightly about herself, but she said nothing more. She stepped back a bit and tried to listen without interrupting.
Ellis slapped his hand angrily on the arm of the chair, “She’s not killing anyone in the middle of the afternoon, and you know it. I have the Demon Police out on the streets looking for her now, but she’s gone to ground before sunrise almost certainly. You also have to remember that this is – was – your tactical commander. She taught you all to fight as a group. Don’t you think she’s going to avoid the places you’d automatically search for her?”
Ellis bit down on his lip to control the urge to scream at these people about their carelessness. Letting anyone hunt alone was a grave error, no matter how experienced she was. He could feel the dread in his soul that under different circumstances it could be him that they were planning to turn to dust.
Alessa looked from Ellis’ frowning face to her friends, and she tried to put some order to her thoughts. They all ‘knew’ they had to hunt Tash. It wasn’t as if they needed any reminders and they weren’t inexperienced or incompetent; just shocked to the core. However, maybe they needed Marcus’, Kyle’s and Ellis’ more detached points of view to start moving.
“I think that if Mr. Dalton, here, can track Tash we have an advantage she may not be aware of.” She bit her lip and looked at the necromancer. “We just need to be pointed in the right direction. We know what we have to do afterwards.”
Oz stood off to the side. He’d been watching the proceeds but keeping his presence low-key. He had noticed a few of the attendees glancing his way, but he wasn’t sure if they had seen him. Oz thought perhaps that Kate’s gaze was the most haunting. He could see the anguish in her eyes every time it wandered to the corner where he was waiting to step forward. Even Daye’s grief at the loss of Drew wasn’t as painful. Oz could only wonder why.
Even here, though, the mortals of the group looked like candle-flames. Flickering and waving in and out of his perception. It was hard to distinguish between them and their voices sounded far away. He had to concentrate just to follow the dialog as if listening to a conversation held behind him. He envied angels like Brinkley and Ra who were firmly anchored on the mortal plane. Being “between” was stressful and he once again felt that call to join his brethren in heaven.
The tempers of those in the room were rising. The darkness that crept into the lights was clear. He heard them calmly discussing the destruction of Tash. Dalton’s darkness was the worst. The magic he commanded had turned the normally cheery brightness of his mortality into a grey, frighteningly cold light.
A personal item. Oz heard it clearly. The sooner they could get started the less of an edge she would have. Oz flew out to Poplar Avenue to retrieve something of Tash’s for Dalton so he could perform his spell.
He reached the building quickly, and stopped only to greet the door guardian – the Angel that protected this building from the forces of evil. Every house had one that would stand between the vampires and the owners. It was a lowly order of angels but, oh, so very important. He dashed to her apartment and entered using his divine powers to bypass the door and wards against evil.
Inside he glanced around. There were dozens of crosses, large and small. He had remembered she always wore one when she hunted. How appropriate that such should be her downfall. He walked into her bedroom and glanced around. Her dresser was cluttered with spent casings and various elements of hunting: holy water and stakes next to earrings and lipstick. There was a pile of laundry on the floor, dusty and smelling of sweat. He got melancholy about how she had been torn from this mortal realm too soon, but Oz had people waiting. He lifted a particularly delicate silver cross from the dresser top and headed back to the mansion.
As Oz was leaving the mansion, Darian stood. “We can find her simply enough,” he said, “but who gets the ‘honor’ of doing her in?”
He whirled on Marcus, “You? Why not you?” he said to Ellis. “This may be a demon wearing Tash’s face, but is the best magic you can muster to deal with this a spell to find her? Why not try to un-vampire her?”
Darian’s eyes were getting watery. He stood there hoping against hope that there would be some way to not lose Tash. Wishing for some way that he could save her life after she had saved all of theirs so many times.
Ellis stood and put his hand on Darian’s shoulder. “Sit down. You know that isn’t going to happen, don’t you? Deal with it.”
Darian pushed Ellis back and stormed out. “I’ll deal with it. I’ll deal with it myself.”
Reah stepped in front of him and extended her claws. “The man said sit.”
Darian stood a long second then sulked back to his seat. Reah followed and sat herself. “This is not about our feelings, people, this is a threat,” she said in a cold voice. “We deal with the threat then we deal with our feelings.”
Daye felt her breath catch at Reah’s angry words. She glanced around and saw most of her friends were shooting furious glares at Marcus. She felt a stab of guilt. Yet again, here was someone caught up in affairs not his own, and it was her fault. Daye shut her eyes for a moment to block out the room as she struggled to pull herself together. They had work to do. Now was not the time to fall apart.
Nikolai cleared his throat gently. “It’s not just as a threat that we should view this. Tasha was a good friend to have but she is dead now. She was killed by the thing she hated the most, and worse than that – she has become the thing she hated. The Tasha I knew would not want to continue like that.” He lifted his head and took in the faces of all those in the room. “She would not want her body to be used by a demon. More than eliminating a threat to ourselves, we owe it to our friend to see that she can be laid to rest.”
Oz stepped forward into the discussion and concentrated to bring his presence forward. “Don’t be afraid,” he said automatically and felt like a moron for saying it to his friends. After all, Alessa had prepared them. Light streamed from his body and his halo glowed with a warm golden light. His wings reflected the light around the room and Kyle and Dalton winced slightly with the intensity. Oz tried to tone it down some; it was hard to tell who could see and who couldn’t.
“It is hard to explain to you, friends, what this is like for me,” he apologized, “but I am committed to this fight. I will do what I can to stop the abomination that has corrupted our dear friend’s body. I just wanted you to know that I am here; I am listening and I am helping wherever I can.”
Oz laid the cross gently on the table before Marcus. “I got this from her apartment,” he said, not needing to elaborate on whose apartment he meant, “It should be enough to find her. If you need anything else I am listening in, but manifesting like this takes effort.” He knew there would be a hundred questions, but he had been pushing hard the last few days to keep Alessa informed and being visible to this group was a terrible strain.
He held up a hand. “Alessa and I are in frequent contact and I may be able to speak with you individually, but it is hard to address you as a group. I can’t answer any questions now. I just wanted you let you know I was here and try to help.”
He slumped and relaxed the will to hold himself in the mortal plane. The light faded and to the assembled White Hats he faded from view. A few of the more perceptive ones followed his weary walk to the corner but lost a distinct vision of him as he relaxed there and faded from all but the most determined effort to see.
Marcus picked up the cross let it dangle from its chain for a second. “I’ll need some salt, a candle and a needle”. He looked around the room and the White Hats leaning forward to witness the deed. “And a little space.”
“There are candles there, over the mantelpiece. I’ll get you the salt and needle.” Alessa hastily stood up and moved to the door; she’d welcome a little time alone, even if it were brief. She felt Ellis’ hand on her waist and turned to add, “Can you work here? There’s plenty of space in this house if not.”
Marcus smiled. “It’s fine.” When Alessa returned with the other ingredients he squatted down and placed the cross on the floor. He poured out a circle of salt around it and then pricked his finger on the needle.
“The vessel.” Marcus’ words leeched heat from the air throughout the room and the cross began to glow with a pale white gleam.
“The hunger.” A single drop of blood fell from his out stretch finger to turn the light crimson.
“Show me.” The needle floated into the air and began to turn slowly, like a compass settling. When it finally stilled Marcus smiled.
“She’s that way.”
Reah was on her feet. “I’m driving!”
Kyle was shouting “Shotgun!” in unison with Darian.
Ellis looked up from the floating needle to the demon and Claw Girl who were already moving to the door and he humphed. “That way? That’s all you can say?” he asked the necromancer. “Half the planet is that way, the other half that other,” he said, signalling the opposite direction.
“Take bearing. Get a map. It’s a simple spell we can repeat as necessary.”
Galen whispered to Kate who left. He explained, “I have a detailed map in the car. Kate has gone to retrieve it, but this won’t work. We are so far away from downtown L.A. that in order for this to work we’ll have to drive for hours to get enough triangulations to pinpoint her closer than a few city blocks. By the time we find out which of the several thousand skyscrapers she’s in between here and Arizona she’ll be long gone.”
Marcus gave Galen a look. “Fine. We get close enough, I can feel her. She’s the walking dead and that makes her mine. Does any one have any constructive suggestions?”
Daye gave Marcus a withering look. She was still seething from his earlier comments, and his horrid behavior made it a simple thing to lose the guilt she’d started to feel. “I believe Galen’s suggestion was constructive. I doubt we’ll find her before the sun sets and she goes on the move. It’ll be mid-afternoon before we even get to town from here, as Galen pointed out, and we’ll need to triangulate. Look, we’re all well aware of what we have to do. There’s no need for you to keep harping on it, okay? We’re going to go kill her before she kills any more of us. She’s already taken Drew…”
Daye faltered, her voice catching, but she kept on, her voice growing louder as anger fuelled her. “We’re going to go kill what’s left of our friend. We just want to make sure we do it right. Right now the only plan we have is to follow this line and wait until we’re close enough for you to do your oh-so-mighty necromancer thing and point her out. Then what? Tell me that, Mister Dalton. Then what? Do we all surround her and beat her into the ground? Do we let you unleash something horrible on her? What then?”
She stopped suddenly; on her feet and swaying from the emotion that was tearing her heart in two. Her anger was stuck in her throat in an uncomfortable knot. That they had to make these plans was bad enough, but to have Marcus sit in his corner and make sarcastic remarks – that was just too much for her to bear.
“I was thinking about crucifying her on an east-facing wall but I imagine you’re all too squeamish for that,” Marcus replied icily. “She’s a newly risen vampire; for all the potential she has, right now she is absolutely zero threat to me. If you want my help, fine – I’ll help. We’ll find her and when we do I’ll hold her still and assuming one of you can’t cut off her head or ram a stake through her heart I will. If it’s too late to hunt her today then perhaps we can start tomorrow at dawn. That way we’ll have time to drive around the city, triangulate her position and descend upon her lair. Strangely enough I seem to be the only one solving problems here. Everyone else is still hung up on why it won’t work.”
“It’s not like that and you know it.” Alessa spoke evenly, but her temper was starting to flare. She could feel the current going through Marcus to Daye and didn’t quite know if she understood it. But her friend was maddeningly angry, and she was going the road. “We are all ‘solving’ the problem, or you wouldn’t be here. We appreciate your help, and we’ll use it.”
She took a look around, “And when you locate her, we’ll dust her.” She looked into the necromancer’s eyes, still remembering his words to Delancre. “Just that. It’s our place to do it.”
Ells stepped up to join Alessa, “Your mumbo-jumbo is convenient, Dalton. Some of us have other methods that are less mystical. This is a team effort. So don’t think that you are going to solve this without us, and we are bringing you along.” *Even though I’d just as soon leave him to rot in his tomb,* Ellis thought to himself.
Loathing. It was the best word Nikolai had for what emanated towards Marcus from almost everyone in the room to a certain degree. Add in to this a large amount of anger, and he couldn’t see anything good coming out of this.
“Izvenechya,” he began softly, “but if I may suggest one thing; this arguing isn’t helping us. Being agitated is understandable, but if I were Tasha, I know what I would do: I would leave this city before my friends put me out of my misery. She can’t move during the day. This means that the more time we waste bickering, the less time we have to find her. Once the sun goes down, Tasha gets to move about freely. While Marcus may have his limitations, this may be the best way to enable us to at least try and track her movements.”
Galen stood. “Nikolai is right. The worst thing we could do right now is lose our heads. We need to stay calm and stay focused. Unpleasant as it may be, we have a job to do. Reah, Kyle and Darian have already gone off on Marcus’ heading. I suggest we split into two more teams and do the same. Tash may go on the move tonight, but if we can find her trail and get more readings we’ll slowly close the net around her.”
He considered the various talents of the people in the room and came to a quick decision, ensuring an even split of magic ability and fighting strength. “How about Nikolai joins me and Kate while Alessa, Ellis, Daye and Marcus…”
He paused, glancing for a moment at Daye who now sat huddled with her arms clutched around her, and then at Marcus. “Or – perhaps it would be better if Daye went with Kate and me, while Nikolai goes with Alessa, Ellis and Marcus.”
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Awww you collabed without me :cry: :cry: Oh well, I added my two cents worth (in blue so it's easier to read) I added it to Kris's last revision so it's the most up to date.
________________________
Sunday June 22, 2007 between 2pm and 4pm
Longwood Estates (Alessa's House)
Daye suppressed the urge to turn and flee from the concerned stares and soft spoken condolences of her friends. She forced herself to be calm, to move forward towards the house and to return greetings. She wasn’t even sure at this point what she said to each passing face. She just wanted to run screaming in the other direction. The last few hours were a blur of impossibilities, of mind numbing horror and pain. She needed to get away, to retreat into a corner and gather her strength for the next part, but there was no way, no place. There was no time for her weakness. Tash had to be stopped. Now.
The man standing outside the door of the Longwood Estate wasn’t familiar. Several of the White Hats had passed him by on their way into the meeting. When Daye arrived, he picked up his attaché and extended a hand. “Ms. Blaise? My name is Watterston, Bill Watterston, and I have important discussions to have with you and your fellow...” he paused, searched for a word and settled on one, “board members. Here is my card.”
*Watterston?* Daye thought as he extended his hand with his business card outstretched. She glanced down at the neatly-printed raised-ink card: Bill Watterston, Esq. Wolfram & Hart. *Wolfram and Hart?*
She raised her eyes and searched the entryway and surrounding porch quickly. She didn’t see Marcus anywhere. Was this man here because of Marcus? Did this have something to do with Drew? Why would Wolfram and Hart send someone here to speak to them? Why now?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Watterston, I don’t know why you’re here,” Daye said, her voice weary and hollow. “What is this about?”
“I really need to discuss this with all of your ‘associates’ at once, Ma’am,” he replied primly. “Would you mind?”
Daye shook her head. What could she do? If Wolfram and Hart wanted to cause trouble now, well, that was just the next thing they would deal with. There was nothing else for it.
“No, it’s fine,” Daye gestured towards the inside of the estate. “Follow me. We’ll go in and I’ll get things started and then you can speak.”
Watterston nodded and followed her into the house.
Daye moved into the sitting room and stood by the window, waiting as everyone else entered and began to take their seats. She hated the pity in their eyes, the pall that hung over the room. This was all wrong.
Daye glanced at the lawyer standing just behind her. Wolfram and Hart. Yes. That was fitting. The whole damn world was wrong, so why wouldn’t this threat rear its ugly head now. Perfect sense.
Finally, the milling and whispering stopped. As all eyes settled upon her Daye drew a deep, steadying breath. She scanned the crowd, White Hats and friends waiting impatiently for her to begin. She hoped no one noticed the stumble when her glance fell upon Marcus looking serious and sedate in his dark suit. She dared not acknowledge him. The police were suspicious enough. She wouldn’t put her friends in that position as well.
“Hello,” Daye spoke slowly, but clearly. “I’m sure most of you, if not all of you, know exactly why we’ve called this meeting. The White Hats are facing a unique threat.”
Daye saw more than one of her friends nodding or leaning to whisper to one another. She glanced warily at Watterston. “Before we discuss this situation and our options, though, I would like to allow this gentleman to speak to us for a moment. He’s an attorney from Wolfram and Hart and apparently he has some business with the White Hats.”
Daye realized that the significance of Wolfram and Hart was lost on most of the others, but when she caught Marcus’ gaze he was staring with undisguised interest at the lawyer. Daye stepped back as Mr. Watterston moved forward to speak.
Mr. Watterston stood and addressed the group: “I represent the Victor Foundation, which you call, amusingly, the ‘White Hats’. Mr. Vrithetek retained our services in the year 1720 to manage his accounts and holdings, which we have done proudly over that period of time. My direct predecessor on this account personally managed his funds for the last 175 years. The ‘Victor Foundation’ meant a radical new direction for Mr. Vrithetek to take and while we advised him against it, he was our client and we have facilitated the reorganization that he desired. He named the employees of the ‘Victor Foundation’ as the following five individuals in order of hiring: Natasha Brookes, Tristan Barrington, Sam Aubrey and Reah Kossinton.
“It was made known to us through, um, channels, that Mr. Barrington died on October 31, 2006. We sent a letter to Miss Brookes detailing the procedure to name a new successor. She declined to respond. Through other means we became aware of Miss Brookes’ transformation. Normally such a change of mortal state wouldn’t have mattered to us; however, Mr. Vrithetek was most explicit about the handling of such an occurrence.
“He instructed us to deliver this letter,” he produced a letter from his attaché, “to the next person in succession of leadership in the ‘Victor Foundation’. Unfortunately our records aren’t up to date. While we were able to discern the location of this assembly, we could not firmly determine the whereabouts of Mr. Aubrey. We felt it was prudent to seek your assistance as the – ahem – governing body of the ‘Victor Foundation’ in reaching your new President. We should like to present him with these papers in person.”
Daye stared in shock and dismay at the man. She realized now that Sam had mentioned someone calling for her over the last few days. Of course, now that she knew why, she wished she didn’t. Sam – ‘next in succession’? How could that be? What did it mean?
“Mr. Watterston,” Daye pitched her voice low. “I may be able to help you find Samuel Aubrey.” Daye glanced up at her friends. “Not now, but can I call you later to discuss it?”
“Fine, fine.” Watterston tried to look sympathetic rather than impatient, “I know you’ve had a recent tragedy. I can wait. But this is an urgent matter; the future of the Foundation does depend on dealing with this in a timely manner. Should Miss Brookes,” he glanced at the assemblage, “cease to be before this is resolved, then the Foundation may fall into a contingency plan that would involve liquidation and disbursement.”
Daye frowned. The last thing she needed now was this man and his attitude. “Yes, well, I assure you, I understand the significance of all the events that have transpired over the last few hours. I can and will assist you, as soon as I’m able to. Threats, even veiled ones, are unnecessary.”
Daye fought down the completely out of proportion anger that was bubbling up inside of her. “I have no intention of allowing all that Victor worked for go to waste. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m not entirely comfortable with you being privy to any plans we may be discussing here.”
“Ms. Blaise, there is no reason to be hostile here. I am just the messenger.” The smirk on Watterton’s face told a different story, but his posture indicated he wasn’t going to push it. “I’ll just leave these cards here for your friends who might have questions and I’ll be on my way.” He turned to the crowd of sad faced heroes. “Nice to meet you all.”
Watterston left and his voice speaking into his cell phone echoed down the hall as he let himself out of the mansion. Marcus watched the departing Watterston carefully then pocketed one of the cards. So that was what a Wolfram and Hart lawyer looked like. Considering the pitfalls they’d left behind in their building he wasn’t surprised they dealt so casually with the occult. Legal counsel with an understanding of events might make things easier with that Detective.
“So, Miss Brookes is now a vampire. Unless you’re determined to use extraordinary methods that means she should be staked. Especially since she no doubt realises you’re the greatest threat to her survival. We need to move quickly. All I need is an object that has been in her possession for some time. I can find her for you and we can do what is necessary.”
Daye stood stock still for a moment, staring at Marcus. Her anger suddenly focused on him. *Miss Brookes,* she thought. *As if she wasn’t his friend. As if she wasn’t important. ‘Should be staked.’ Really?!*
“You think it’s that simple, do you, Mr. Dalton?” Daye’s voice dripped acid. “Well, aren’t we lucky to have your guidance? Whatever would we do without your brilliant insight?”
Marcus fired back, “You’d get hung up on it looking like your friend. Yes it has her body; her memories; probably even a great deal of her personality, but let’s be quite clear. The animating spirit is not a human soul. It’s a demon. A demon that’s a threat to you all.”
*First the lawyer, now this.* Kyle shook his head. He had watched the representative from Wolfram and Hart closely, flicking the lid of his zippo lighter open and closed. There was something about lawyers that just got him on edge. He was pretty damn sure, after all, that Wolfram & Hart had some involvement with his father’s death. As far as he was concerned, that made them responsible for his life spiraling slowly into hell. He’d like nothing more than to wrap his hands around Mr. Watterston’s neck.
Snapping the lighter closed he pushed himself off of the wall, moving further into the room and looking mostly at Daye. “I can’t believe you people.” His tone wasn’t forgiving. “Whilst we’re sitting here all talking about this, she’s out there doing vampire things!”
He paused. “Killing people, remember? I agree with scary necromancer guy. She’s not Tash anymore, she’s a damned bloodsucker. We gotta get out of here, hunt her down and stake her good.” As he looked around at some of the aghast faces staring at him Kyle’s voice dropped and he looked down. “It’s what I’d want and she’d probably want it too…”
Again he shook his head and returned to his patch of wall in the corner. “Smooth, man,” said Hayden, perched comfortably on a desk with his legs swinging back and forth like a child. The ghost held his hands up in mock defence as Kyle shot him a withering glare.
Kate remained silent though she buried herself closer against the arm that Galen had wrapped around her shoulders. The strength of emotion that emanated from the assembled White Hats was incredible – caustic to some degree, nervous, sad… even violent. Kate felt each of those emotions mirrored inside herself alongside a deep and bitter despair, her blood turned to ice inside her veins at Marcus and Kyle’s blunt words despite the plain realisation that they were right.
Feeling cold, Kate closed her eyes briefly in an attempt to block out the vigorous influx of thoughts and emotion that threatened to drown her.
Daye stared at Kyle, biting back the urge to lash out at him as well. She might be willing, or at the very least unable to stop herself from letting her anger flare at Marcus, but the Kaoshian certainly had done nothing to garner her wrath. She felt a shiver rush through her body and hugged her arms tightly about herself, but she said nothing more. She stepped back a bit and tried to listen without interrupting.
Ellis slapped his hand angrily on the arm of the chair, “She’s not killing anyone in the middle of the afternoon, and you know it. I have the Demon Police out on the streets looking for her now, but she’s gone to ground before sunrise almost certainly. You also have to remember that this is – was – your tactical commander. She taught you all to fight as a group. Don’t you think she’s going to avoid the places you’d automatically search for her?”
Ellis bit down on his lip to control the urge to scream at these people about their carelessness. Letting anyone hunt alone was a grave error, no matter how experienced she was. He could feel the dread in his soul that under different circumstances it could be him that they were planning to turn to dust.
Alessa looked from Ellis’ frowning face to her friends, and she tried to put some order to her thoughts. They all ‘knew’ they had to hunt Tash. It wasn’t as if they needed any reminders and they weren’t inexperienced or incompetent; just shocked to the core. However, maybe they needed Marcus’, Kyle’s and Ellis’ more detached points of view to start moving.
“I think that if Mr. Dalton, here, can track Tash we have an advantage she may not be aware of.” She bit her lip and looked at the necromancer. “We just need to be pointed in the right direction. We know what we have to do afterwards.”
Oz stood off to the side. He’d been watching the proceeds but keeping his presence low-key. He had noticed a few of the attendees glancing his way, but he wasn’t sure if they had seen him. Oz thought perhaps that Kate’s gaze was the most haunting. He could see the anguish in her eyes every time it wandered to the corner where he was waiting to step forward. Even Daye’s grief at the loss of Drew wasn’t as painful. Oz could only wonder why.
Even here, though, the mortals of the group looked like candle-flames. Flickering and waving in and out of his perception. It was hard to distinguish between them and their voices sounded far away. He had to concentrate just to follow the dialog as if listening to a conversation held behind him. He envied angels like Brinkley and Ra who were firmly anchored on the mortal plane. Being “between” was stressful and he once again felt that call to join his brethren in heaven.
The tempers of those in the room were rising. The darkness that crept into the lights was clear. He heard them calmly discussing the destruction of Tash. Dalton’s darkness was the worst. The magic he commanded had turned the normally cheery brightness of his mortality into a grey, frighteningly cold light.
A personal item. Oz heard it clearly. The sooner they could get started the less of an edge she would have. Oz flew out to Poplar Avenue to retrieve something of Tash’s for Dalton so he could perform his spell.
He reached the building quickly, and stopped only to greet the door guardian – the Angel that protected this building from the forces of evil. Every house had one that would stand between the vampires and the owners. It was a lowly order of angels but, oh, so very important. He dashed to her apartment and entered using his divine powers to bypass the door and wards against evil.
Inside he glanced around. There were dozens of crosses, large and small. He had remembered she always wore one when she hunted. How appropriate that such should be her downfall. He walked into her bedroom and glanced around. Her dresser was cluttered with spent casings and various elements of hunting: holy water and stakes next to earrings and lipstick. There was a pile of laundry on the floor, dusty and smelling of sweat. He got melancholy about how she had been torn from this mortal realm too soon, but Oz had people waiting. He lifted a particularly delicate silver cross from the dresser top and headed back to the mansion.
As Oz was leaving the mansion, Darian stood. “We can find her simply enough,” he said, “but who gets the ‘honor’ of doing her in?”
He whirled on Marcus, “You? Why not you?” he said to Ellis. “This may be a demon wearing Tash’s face, but is the best magic you can muster to deal with this a spell to find her? Why not try to un-vampire her?”
Darian’s eyes were getting watery. He stood there hoping against hope that there would be some way to not lose Tash. Wishing for some way that he could save her life after she had saved all of theirs so many times.
Ellis stood and put his hand on Darian’s shoulder. “Sit down. You know that isn’t going to happen, don’t you? Deal with it.”
Darian pushed Ellis back and stormed out. “I’ll deal with it. I’ll deal with it myself.”
Reah stepped in front of him and extended her claws. “The man said sit.”
Darian stood a long second then sulked back to his seat. Reah followed and sat herself. “This is not about our feelings, people, this is a threat,” she said in a cold voice. “We deal with the threat then we deal with our feelings.”
Daye felt her breath catch at Darian’s angry words. She glanced around and saw most of her friends were shooting furious glares at Marcus. She felt a stab of guilt. Yet again, here was someone caught up in affairs not his own, and it was her fault. Daye shut her eyes for a moment to block out the room as she struggled to pull herself together. They had work to do. Now was not the time to fall apart.
Nikolai cleared his throat gently. “It’s not just as a threat that we should view this. Tasha was a good friend to have but she is dead now. She was killed by the thing she hated the most, and worse than that – she has become the thing she hated. The Tasha I knew would not want to continue like that.” He lifted his head and took in the faces of all those in the room. “She would not want her body to be used by a demon. More than eliminating a threat to ourselves, we owe it to our friend to see that she can be laid to rest.”
Kate nodded gratefully in Nikolai’s direction, feeling the hubbub of thoughts and emotions settle momentarily. “Koyla’s right,” she said resolutely. “Whatever our …feelings on this we owe it to her. It’s what Tash… our Tash would have wanted.”
Oz stepped forward into the discussion and concentrated to bring his presence forward. “Don’t be afraid,” he said automatically and felt like a moron for saying it to his friends. After all, Alessa had prepared them. Light streamed from his body and his halo glowed with a warm golden light. His wings reflected the light around the room and Kyle and Dalton winced slightly with the intensity. Oz tried to tone it down some; it was hard to tell who could see and who couldn’t.
“It is hard to explain to you, friends, what this is like for me,” he apologized, “but I am committed to this fight. I will do what I can to stop the abomination that has corrupted our dear friend’s body. I just wanted you to know that I am here; I am listening and I am helping wherever I can.”
Oz laid the cross gently on the table before Marcus. “I got this from her apartment,” he said, not needing to elaborate on whose apartment he meant, “It should be enough to find her. If you need anything else I am listening in, but manifesting like this takes effort.” He knew there would be a hundred questions, but he had been pushing hard the last few days to keep Alessa informed and being visible to this group was a terrible strain.
He held up a hand. “Alessa and I are in frequent contact and I may be able to speak with you individually, but it is hard to address you as a group. I can’t answer any questions now. I just wanted you let you know I was here and try to help.”
He slumped and relaxed the will to hold himself in the mortal plane. The light faded and to the assembled White Hats he faded from view. A few of the more perceptive ones followed his weary walk to the corner but lost a distinct vision of him as he relaxed there and faded from all but the most determined effort to see.
Marcus picked up the cross let it dangle from its chain for a second. “I’ll need some salt, a candle and a needle”. He looked around the room and the White Hats leaning forward to witness the deed. “And a little space.”
“There are candles there, over the mantelpiece. I’ll get you the salt and needle.” Alessa hastily stood up and moved to the door; she’d welcome a little time alone, even if it were brief. She felt Ellis’ hand on her waist and turned to add, “Can you work here? There’s plenty of space in this house if not.”
Marcus smiled. “It’s fine.” When Alessa returned with the other ingredients he squatted down and placed the cross on the floor. He poured out a circle of salt around it and then pricked his finger on the needle.
“The vessel.” Marcus’ words leeched heat from the air throughout the room and the cross began to glow with a pale white gleam.
“The hunger.” A single drop of blood fell from his out stretch finger to turn the light crimson.
“Show me.” The needle floated into the air and began to turn slowly, like a compass settling. When it finally stilled Marcus smiled.
“She’s that way.”
Reah was on her feet. “I’m driving!”
Kyle was shouting “Shotgun!” in unison with Darian.
Ellis looked up from the floating needle to the demon and Claw Girl who were already moving to the door and he humphed. “That way? That’s all you can say?” he asked the necromancer. “Half the planet is that way, the other half that other,” he said, signalling the opposite direction.
“Take bearing. Get a map. It’s a simple spell we can repeat as necessary.”
Galen whispered to Kate who left. He explained, “I have a detailed map in the car. Kate has gone to retrieve it, but this won’t work. We are so far away from downtown L.A. that in order for this to work we’ll have to drive for hours to get enough triangulations to pinpoint her closer than a few city blocks. By the time we find out which of the several thousand skyscrapers she’s in between here and Arizona she’ll be long gone.”
Marcus gave Galen a look. “Fine. We get close enough, I can feel her. She’s the walking dead and that makes her mine. Does any one have any constructive suggestions?”
Daye gave Marcus a withering look. She was still seething from his earlier comments, and his horrid behavior made it a simple thing to lose the guilt she’d started to feel. “I believe Galen’s suggestion was constructive. I doubt we’ll find her before the sun sets and she goes on the move. It’ll be mid-afternoon before we even get to town from here, as Galen pointed out, and we’ll need to triangulate. Look, we’re all well aware of what we have to do. There’s no need for you to keep harping on it, okay? We’re going to go kill her before she kills any more of us. She’s already taken Drew…”
Daye faltered, her voice catching, but she kept on, her voice growing louder as anger fuelled her. “We’re going to go kill what’s left of our friend. We just want to make sure we do it right. Right now the only plan we have is to follow this line and wait until we’re close enough for you to do your oh-so-mighty necromancer thing and point her out. Then what? Tell me that, Mister Dalton. Then what? Do we all surround her and beat her into the ground? Do we let you unleash something horrible on her? What then?”
She stopped suddenly; on her feet and swaying from the emotion that was tearing her heart in two. Her anger was stuck in her throat in an uncomfortable knot. That they had to make these plans was bad enough, but to have Marcus sit in his corner and make sarcastic remarks – that was just too much for her to bear.
“I was thinking about crucifying her on an east-facing wall but I imagine you’re all too squeamish for that,” Marcus replied icily. “She’s a newly risen vampire; for all the potential she has, right now she is absolutely zero threat to me. If you want my help, fine – I’ll help. We’ll find her and when we do I’ll hold her still and assuming one of you can’t cut off her head or ram a stake through her heart I will. If it’s too late to hunt her today then perhaps we can start tomorrow at dawn. That way we’ll have time to drive around the city, triangulate her position and descend upon her lair. Strangely enough I seem to be the only one solving problems here. Everyone else is still hung up on why it won’t work.”
“It’s not like that and you know it.” Alessa spoke evenly, but her temper was starting to flare. She could feel the current going through Marcus to Daye and didn’t quite know if she understood it. But her friend was maddeningly angry, and she was going the road. “We are all ‘solving’ the problem, or you wouldn’t be here. We appreciate your help, and we’ll use it.”
She took a look around, “And when you locate her, we’ll dust her.” She looked into the necromancer’s eyes, still remembering his words to Delancre. “Just that. It’s our place to do it.”
Ells stepped up to join Alessa, “Your mumbo-jumbo is convenient, Dalton. Some of us have other methods that are less mystical. This is a team effort. So don’t think that you are going to solve this without us, and we are bringing you along.” *Even though I’d just as soon leave him to rot in his tomb,* Ellis thought to himself.
Loathing. It was the best word Nikolai had for what emanated towards Marcus from almost everyone in the room to a certain degree. Add in to this a large amount of anger, and he couldn’t see anything good coming out of this.
“Izvenechya,” he began softly, “but if I may suggest one thing; this arguing isn’t helping us. Being agitated is understandable, but if I were Tasha, I know what I would do: I would leave this city before my friends put me out of my misery. She can’t move during the day. This means that the more time we waste bickering, the less time we have to find her. Once the sun goes down, Tasha gets to move about freely. While Marcus may have his limitations, this may be the best way to enable us to at least try and track her movements.”
Galen stood. “Nikolai is right. The worst thing we could do right now is lose our heads. We need to stay calm and stay focused. Unpleasant as it may be, we have a job to do. Reah, Kyle and Darian have already gone off on Marcus’ heading. I suggest we split into two more teams and do the same. Tash may go on the move tonight, but if we can find her trail and get more readings we’ll slowly close the net around her.”
He considered the various talents of the people in the room and came to a quick decision, ensuring an even split of magic ability and fighting strength. “How about Nikolai joins me and Kate while Alessa, Ellis, Daye and Marcus…”
He paused, glancing for a moment at Daye who now sat huddled with her arms clutched around her, and then at Marcus. “Or – perhaps it would be better if Daye went with Kate and me, while Nikolai goes with Alessa, Ellis and Marcus.”
Kate held up the map as she re-entered the room, the solemn faces telling her that the passionate tempers of her friends hadn’t quelled in her absence. “I’ve got the map,” she announced in an attempt to break the tension. “Are we ready?”
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Since copying from the game board strips the bbcode from the text, and since neither Kris nor Lou have access to the 'edit' function in this forum, I've stitched their additions into the original with the italics, etc. still intact. :)
Sunday June 22, 2007 between 2pm and 4pm
Longwood Estates (Alessa's House)
Daye suppressed the urge to turn and flee from the concerned stares and soft spoken condolences of her friends. She forced herself to be calm, to move forward towards the house and to return greetings. She wasn’t even sure at this point what she said to each passing face. She just wanted to run screaming in the other direction. The last few hours were a blur of impossibilities, of mind numbing horror and pain. She needed to get away, to retreat into a corner and gather her strength for the next part, but there was no way, no place. There was no time for her weakness. Tash had to be stopped. Now.
The man standing outside the door of the Longwood Estate wasn’t familiar. Several of the White Hats had passed him by on their way into the meeting. When Daye arrived, he picked up his attaché and extended a hand. “Ms. Blaise? My name is Watterston, Bill Watterston, and I have important discussions to have with you and your fellow...” he paused, searched for a word and settled on one, “board members. Here is my card.”
*Watterston?* Daye thought as he extended his hand with his business card outstretched. She glanced down at the neatly-printed raised-ink card: Bill Watterston, Esq. Wolfram & Hart. *Wolfram and Hart?*
She raised her eyes and searched the entryway and surrounding porch quickly. She didn’t see Marcus anywhere. Was this man here because of Marcus? Did this have something to do with Drew? Why would Wolfram and Hart send someone here to speak to them? Why now?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Watterston, I don’t know why you’re here,” Daye said, her voice weary and hollow. “What is this about?”
“I really need to discuss this with all of your ‘associates’ at once, Ma’am,” he replied primly. “Would you mind?”
Daye shook her head. What could she do? If Wolfram and Hart wanted to cause trouble now, well, that was just the next thing they would deal with. There was nothing else for it.
“No, it’s fine,” Daye gestured towards the inside of the estate. “Follow me. We’ll go in and I’ll get things started and then you can speak.”
Watterston nodded and followed her into the house.
Daye moved into the sitting room and stood by the window, waiting as everyone else entered and began to take their seats. She hated the pity in their eyes, the pall that hung over the room. This was all wrong.
Daye glanced at the lawyer standing just behind her. Wolfram and Hart. Yes. That was fitting. The whole damn world was wrong, so why wouldn’t this threat rear its ugly head now. Perfect sense.
Finally, the milling and whispering stopped. As all eyes settled upon her Daye drew a deep, steadying breath. She scanned the crowd, White Hats and friends waiting impatiently for her to begin. She hoped no one noticed the stumble when her glance fell upon Marcus looking serious and sedate in his dark suit. She dared not acknowledge him. The police were suspicious enough. She wouldn’t put her friends in that position as well.
“Hello,” Daye spoke slowly, but clearly. “I’m sure most of you, if not all of you, know exactly why we’ve called this meeting. The White Hats are facing a unique threat.”
Daye saw more than one of her friends nodding or leaning to whisper to one another. She glanced warily at Watterston. “Before we discuss this situation and our options, though, I would like to allow this gentleman to speak to us for a moment. He’s an attorney from Wolfram and Hart and apparently he has some business with the White Hats.”
Daye realized that the significance of Wolfram and Hart was lost on most of the others, but when she caught Marcus’ gaze he was staring with undisguised interest at the lawyer. Daye stepped back as Mr. Watterston moved forward to speak.
Mr. Watterston stood and addressed the group: “I represent the Victor Foundation, which you call, amusingly, the ‘White Hats’. Mr. Vrithetek retained our services in the year 1720 to manage his accounts and holdings, which we have done proudly over that period of time. My direct predecessor on this account personally managed his funds for the last 175 years. The ‘Victor Foundation’ meant a radical new direction for Mr. Vrithetek to take and while we advised him against it, he was our client and we have facilitated the reorganization that he desired. He named the employees of the ‘Victor Foundation’ as the following five individuals in order of hiring: Natasha Brookes, Tristan Barrington, Sam Aubrey and Reah Kossinton.
“It was made known to us through, um, channels, that Mr. Barrington died on October 31, 2006. We sent a letter to Miss Brookes detailing the procedure to name a new successor. She declined to respond. Through other means we became aware of Miss Brookes’ transformation. Normally such a change of mortal state wouldn’t have mattered to us; however, Mr. Vrithetek was most explicit about the handling of such an occurrence.
“He instructed us to deliver this letter,” he produced a letter from his attaché, “to the next person in succession of leadership in the ‘Victor Foundation’. Unfortunately our records aren’t up to date. While we were able to discern the location of this assembly, we could not firmly determine the whereabouts of Mr. Aubrey. We felt it was prudent to seek your assistance as the – ahem – governing body of the ‘Victor Foundation’ in reaching your new President. We should like to present him with these papers in person.”
Daye stared in shock and dismay at the man. She realized now that Sam had mentioned someone calling for her over the last few days. Of course, now that she knew why, she wished she didn’t. Sam – ‘next in succession’? How could that be? What did it mean?
“Mr. Watterston,” Daye pitched her voice low. “I may be able to help you find Samuel Aubrey.” Daye glanced up at her friends. “Not now, but can I call you later to discuss it?”
“Fine, fine.” Watterston tried to look sympathetic rather than impatient, “I know you’ve had a recent tragedy. I can wait. But this is an urgent matter; the future of the Foundation does depend on dealing with this in a timely manner. Should Miss Brookes,” he glanced at the assemblage, “cease to be before this is resolved, then the Foundation may fall into a contingency plan that would involve liquidation and disbursement.”
Daye frowned. The last thing she needed now was this man and his attitude. “Yes, well, I assure you, I understand the significance of all the events that have transpired over the last few hours. I can and will assist you, as soon as I’m able to. Threats, even veiled ones, are unnecessary.”
Daye fought down the completely out of proportion anger that was bubbling up inside of her. “I have no intention of allowing all that Victor worked for go to waste. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m not entirely comfortable with you being privy to any plans we may be discussing here.”
“Ms. Blaise, there is no reason to be hostile here. I am just the messenger.” The smirk on Watterton’s face told a different story, but his posture indicated he wasn’t going to push it. “I’ll just leave these cards here for your friends who might have questions and I’ll be on my way.” He turned to the crowd of sad faced heroes. “Nice to meet you all.”
Watterston left and his voice speaking into his cell phone echoed down the hall as he let himself out of the mansion. Marcus watched the departing Watterston carefully then pocketed one of the cards. So that was what a Wolfram and Hart lawyer looked like. Considering the pitfalls they’d left behind in their building he wasn’t surprised they dealt so casually with the occult. Legal counsel with an understanding of events might make things easier with that Detective.
“So, Miss Brookes is now a vampire. Unless you’re determined to use extraordinary methods that means she should be staked. Especially since she no doubt realises you’re the greatest threat to her survival. We need to move quickly. All I need is an object that has been in her possession for some time. I can find her for you and we can do what is necessary.”
Daye stood stock still for a moment, staring at Marcus. Her anger suddenly focused on him. *Miss Brookes,* she thought. *As if she wasn’t his friend. As if she wasn’t important. ‘Should be staked.’ Really?!*
“You think it’s that simple, do you, Mr. Dalton?” Daye’s voice dripped acid. “Well, aren’t we lucky to have your guidance? Whatever would we do without your brilliant insight?”
Marcus fired back, “You’d get hung up on it looking like your friend. Yes it has her body; her memories; probably even a great deal of her personality, but let’s be quite clear. The animating spirit is not a human soul. It’s a demon. A demon that’s a threat to you all.”
*First the lawyer, now this.* Kyle shook his head. He had watched the representative from Wolfram and Hart closely, flicking the lid of his zippo lighter open and closed. There was something about lawyers that just got him on edge. He was pretty damn sure, after all, that Wolfram & Hart had some involvement with his father’s death. As far as he was concerned, that made them responsible for his life spiraling slowly into hell. He’d like nothing more than to wrap his hands around Mr. Watterston’s neck.
Snapping the lighter closed he pushed himself off of the wall, moving further into the room and looking mostly at Daye. “I can’t believe you people.” His tone wasn’t forgiving. “Whilst we’re sitting here all talking about this, she’s out there doing vampire things!”
He paused. “Killing people, remember? I agree with scary necromancer guy. She’s not Tash anymore, she’s a damned bloodsucker. We gotta get out of here, hunt her down and stake her good.” As he looked around at some of the aghast faces staring at him Kyle’s voice dropped and he looked down. “It’s what I’d want and she’d probably want it too…”
Again he shook his head and returned to his patch of wall in the corner. “Smooth, man,” said Hayden, perched comfortably on a desk with his legs swinging back and forth like a child. The ghost held his hands up in mock defence as Kyle shot him a withering glare.
Kate remained silent though she buried herself closer against the arm that Galen had wrapped around her shoulders. The strength of emotion that emanated from the assembled White Hats was incredible – caustic to some degree, nervous, sad; even violent. Kate felt each of those emotions mirrored inside herself alongside a deep and bitter despair. Her blood turned to ice inside her veins at Marcus’ and Kyle’s blunt words despite the plain realisation that they were right.
Feeling cold, Kate closed her eyes briefly in an attempt to block out the vigorous influx of thoughts and emotion that threatened to drown her.
Daye stared at Kyle, biting back the urge to lash out at him as well. She might be willing, or at the very least unable to stop herself from letting her anger flare at Marcus, but the Kaoshian certainly had done nothing to garner her wrath. She felt a shiver rush through her body and hugged her arms tightly about herself, but she said nothing more. She stepped back a bit and tried to listen without interrupting.
Ellis slapped his hand angrily on the arm of the chair, “She’s not killing anyone in the middle of the afternoon, and you know it. I have the Demon Police out on the streets looking for her now, but she’s gone to ground before sunrise almost certainly. You also have to remember that this is – was – your tactical commander. She taught you all to fight as a group. Don’t you think she’s going to avoid the places you’d automatically search for her?”
Ellis bit down on his lip to control the urge to scream at these people about their carelessness. Letting anyone hunt alone was a grave error, no matter how experienced she was. He could feel the dread in his soul that under different circumstances it could be him that they were planning to turn to dust.
Alessa looked from Ellis’ frowning face to her friends, and she tried to put some order to her thoughts. They all ‘knew’ they had to hunt Tash. It wasn’t as if they needed any reminders and they weren’t inexperienced or incompetent; just shocked to the core. However, maybe they needed Marcus’, Kyle’s and Ellis’ more detached points of view to start moving.
“I think that if Mr. Dalton, here, can track Tash we have an advantage she may not be aware of.” She bit her lip and looked at the necromancer. “We just need to be pointed in the right direction. We know what we have to do afterwards.”
Oz stood off to the side. He’d been watching the proceeds but keeping his presence low-key. He had noticed a few of the attendees glancing his way, but he wasn’t sure if they had seen him. Oz thought perhaps that Kate’s gaze was the most haunting. He could see the anguish in her eyes every time it wandered to the corner where he was waiting to step forward. Even Daye’s grief at the loss of Drew wasn’t as painful. Oz could only wonder why.
Even here, though, the mortals of the group looked like candle-flames. Flickering and waving in and out of his perception. It was hard to distinguish between them and their voices sounded far away. He had to concentrate just to follow the dialog as if listening to a conversation held behind him. He envied angels like Brinkley and Ra who were firmly anchored on the mortal plane. Being “between” was stressful and he once again felt that call to join his brethren in heaven.
The tempers of those in the room were rising. The darkness that crept into the lights was clear. He heard them calmly discussing the destruction of Tash. Dalton’s darkness was the worst. The magic he commanded had turned the normally cheery brightness of his mortality into a grey, frighteningly cold light.
A personal item. Oz heard it clearly. The sooner they could get started the less of an edge she would have. Oz flew out to Poplar Avenue to retrieve something of Tash’s for Dalton so he could perform his spell.
He reached the building quickly, and stopped only to greet the door guardian – the Angel that protected this building from the forces of evil. Every house had one that would stand between the vampires and the owners. It was a lowly order of angels but, oh, so very important. He dashed to her apartment and entered using his divine powers to bypass the door and wards against evil.
Inside he glanced around. There were dozens of crosses, large and small. He had remembered she always wore one when she hunted. How appropriate that such should be her downfall. He walked into her bedroom and glanced around. Her dresser was cluttered with spent casings and various elements of hunting: holy water and stakes next to earrings and lipstick. There was a pile of laundry on the floor, dusty and smelling of sweat. He got melancholy about how she had been torn from this mortal realm too soon, but Oz had people waiting. He lifted a particularly delicate silver cross from the dresser top and headed back to the mansion.
As Oz was leaving the mansion, Darian stood. “We can find her simply enough,” he said, “but who gets the ‘honor’ of doing her in?”
He whirled on Marcus, “You? Why not you?” he said to Ellis. “This may be a demon wearing Tash’s face, but is the best magic you can muster to deal with this a spell to find her? Why not try to un-vampire her?”
Darian’s eyes were getting watery. He stood there hoping against hope that there would be some way to not lose Tash. Wishing for some way that he could save her life after she had saved all of theirs so many times.
Ellis stood and put his hand on Darian’s shoulder. “Sit down. You know that isn’t going to happen, don’t you? Deal with it.”
Darian pushed Ellis back and stormed out. “I’ll deal with it. I’ll deal with it myself.”
Reah stepped in front of him and extended her claws. “The man said sit.”
Darian stood a long second then sulked back to his seat. Reah followed and sat herself. “This is not about our feelings, people, this is a threat,” she said in a cold voice. “We deal with the threat then we deal with our feelings.”
Daye felt her breath catch at Reah’s angry words. She glanced around and saw most of her friends were shooting furious glares at Marcus. She felt a stab of guilt. Yet again, here was someone caught up in affairs not his own, and it was her fault. Daye shut her eyes for a moment to block out the room as she struggled to pull herself together. They had work to do. Now was not the time to fall apart.
Nikolai cleared his throat gently. “It’s not just as a threat that we should view this. Tasha was a good friend to have but she is dead now. She was killed by the thing she hated the most, and worse than that – she has become the thing she hated. The Tasha I knew would not want to continue like that.” He lifted his head and took in the faces of all those in the room. “She would not want her body to be used by a demon. More than eliminating a threat to ourselves, we owe it to our friend to see that she can be laid to rest.”
Kate nodded gratefully in Nikolai’s direction, feeling the hubbub of thoughts and emotions settle momentarily. “Koyla’s right,” she said resolutely. “Whatever our feelings on this we owe it to her. It’s what Tash – our Tash – would have wanted.”
Oz stepped forward into the discussion and concentrated to bring his presence forward. “Don’t be afraid,” he said automatically and felt like a moron for saying it to his friends. After all, Alessa had prepared them. Light streamed from his body and his halo glowed with a warm golden light. His wings reflected the light around the room and Kyle and Dalton winced slightly with the intensity. Oz tried to tone it down some; it was hard to tell who could see and who couldn’t.
“It is hard to explain to you, friends, what this is like for me,” he apologized, “but I am committed to this fight. I will do what I can to stop the abomination that has corrupted our dear friend’s body. I just wanted you to know that I am here; I am listening and I am helping wherever I can.”
Oz laid the cross gently on the table before Marcus. “I got this from her apartment,” he said, not needing to elaborate on whose apartment he meant, “It should be enough to find her. If you need anything else I am listening in, but manifesting like this takes effort.” He knew there would be a hundred questions, but he had been pushing hard the last few days to keep Alessa informed and being visible to this group was a terrible strain.
He held up a hand. “Alessa and I are in frequent contact and I may be able to speak with you individually, but it is hard to address you as a group. I can’t answer any questions now. I just wanted you let you know I was here and try to help.”
He slumped and relaxed the will to hold himself in the mortal plane. The light faded and to the assembled White Hats he faded from view. A few of the more perceptive ones followed his weary walk to the corner but lost a distinct vision of him as he relaxed there and faded from all but the most determined effort to see.
Marcus picked up the cross let it dangle from its chain for a second. “I’ll need some salt, a candle and a needle”. He looked around the room and the White Hats leaning forward to witness the deed. “And a little space.”
“There are candles there, over the mantelpiece. I’ll get you the salt and needle.” Alessa hastily stood up and moved to the door; she’d welcome a little time alone, even if it were brief. She felt Ellis’ hand on her waist and turned to add, “Can you work here? There’s plenty of space in this house if not.”
Marcus smiled. “It’s fine.” When Alessa returned with the other ingredients he squatted down and placed the cross on the floor. He poured out a circle of salt around it and then pricked his finger on the needle.
“The vessel.” Marcus’ words leeched heat from the air throughout the room and the cross began to glow with a pale white gleam.
“The hunger.” A single drop of blood fell from his out stretch finger to turn the light crimson.
“Show me.” The needle floated into the air and began to turn slowly, like a compass settling. When it finally stilled Marcus smiled.
“She’s that way.”
Reah was on her feet. “I’m driving!”
Kyle was shouting “Shotgun!” in unison with Darian.
Ellis looked up from the floating needle to the demon and Claw Girl who were already moving to the door and he humphed. “That way? That’s all you can say?” he asked the necromancer. “Half the planet is that way, the other half that other,” he said, signalling the opposite direction.
“Take bearing. Get a map. It’s a simple spell we can repeat as necessary.”
Galen whispered to Kate who left. He explained, “I have a detailed map in the car. Kate has gone to retrieve it, but this won’t work. We are so far away from downtown L.A. that in order for this to work we’ll have to drive for hours to get enough triangulations to pinpoint her closer than a few city blocks. By the time we find out which of the several thousand skyscrapers she’s in between here and Arizona she’ll be long gone.”
Marcus gave Galen a look. “Fine. We get close enough, I can feel her. She’s the walking dead and that makes her mine. Does any one have any constructive suggestions?”
Daye gave Marcus a withering look. She was still seething from his earlier comments, and his horrid behavior made it a simple thing to lose the guilt she’d started to feel. “I believe Galen’s suggestion was constructive. I doubt we’ll find her before the sun sets and she goes on the move. It’ll be mid-afternoon before we even get to town from here, as Galen pointed out, and we’ll need to triangulate. Look, we’re all well aware of what we have to do. There’s no need for you to keep harping on it, okay? We’re going to go kill her before she kills any more of us. She’s already taken Drew…”
Daye faltered, her voice catching, but she kept on, her voice growing louder as anger fuelled her. “We’re going to go kill what’s left of our friend. We just want to make sure we do it right. Right now the only plan we have is to follow this line and wait until we’re close enough for you to do your oh-so-mighty necromancer thing and point her out. Then what? Tell me that, Mister Dalton. Then what? Do we all surround her and beat her into the ground? Do we let you unleash something horrible on her? What then?”
She stopped suddenly; on her feet and swaying from the emotion that was tearing her heart in two. Her anger was stuck in her throat in an uncomfortable knot. That they had to make these plans was bad enough, but to have Marcus sit in his corner and make sarcastic remarks – that was just too much for her to bear.
“I was thinking about crucifying her on an east-facing wall but I imagine you’re all too squeamish for that,” Marcus replied icily. “She’s a newly risen vampire; for all the potential she has, right now she is absolutely zero threat to me. If you want my help, fine – I’ll help. We’ll find her and when we do I’ll hold her still and assuming one of you can’t cut off her head or ram a stake through her heart I will. If it’s too late to hunt her today then perhaps we can start tomorrow at dawn. That way we’ll have time to drive around the city, triangulate her position and descend upon her lair. Strangely enough I seem to be the only one solving problems here. Everyone else is still hung up on why it won’t work.”
“It’s not like that and you know it.” Alessa spoke evenly, but her temper was starting to flare. She could feel the current going through Marcus to Daye and didn’t quite know if she understood it. But her friend was maddeningly angry, and she was going the road. “We are all ‘solving’ the problem, or you wouldn’t be here. We appreciate your help, and we’ll use it.”
She took a look around, “And when you locate her, we’ll dust her.” She looked into the necromancer’s eyes, still remembering his words to Delancre. “Just that. It’s our place to do it.”
Ells stepped up to join Alessa, “Your mumbo-jumbo is convenient, Dalton. Some of us have other methods that are less mystical. This is a team effort. So don’t think that you are going to solve this without us, and we are bringing you along.” *Even though I’d just as soon leave him to rot in his tomb,* Ellis thought to himself.
Loathing. It was the best word Nikolai had for what emanated towards Marcus from almost everyone in the room to a certain degree. Add in to this a large amount of anger, and he couldn’t see anything good coming out of this.
“Izvenechya,” he began softly, “but if I may suggest one thing; this arguing isn’t helping us. Being agitated is understandable, but if I were Tasha, I know what I would do: I would leave this city before my friends put me out of my misery. She can’t move during the day. This means that the more time we waste bickering, the less time we have to find her. Once the sun goes down, Tasha gets to move about freely. While Marcus may have his limitations, this may be the best way to enable us to at least try and track her movements.”
Galen stood. “Nikolai is right. The worst thing we could do right now is lose our heads. We need to stay calm and stay focused. Unpleasant as it may be, we have a job to do. Reah, Kyle and Darian have already gone off on Marcus’ heading. I suggest we split into two more teams and do the same. Tash may go on the move tonight, but if we can find her trail and get more readings we’ll slowly close the net around her.”
He considered the various talents of the people in the room and came to a quick decision, ensuring an even split of magic ability and fighting strength. “How about Nikolai joins me and Kate while Alessa, Ellis, Daye and Marcus…”
He paused, glancing for a moment at Daye who now sat huddled with her arms clutched around her, and then at Marcus. “Or – perhaps it would be better if Daye went with Kate and me, while Nikolai goes with Alessa, Ellis and Marcus.”
Kate held up the map as she re-entered the room, the solemn faces telling her that the passionate tempers of her friends hadn’t quelled in her absence. “I’ve got the map,” she announced in an attempt to break the tension. “Are we ready?”
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Can we post this now? or is there another post before it?
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
I don't think everyone's added their bits yet. So far only Kris and Lou have. That leaves Adam, Amanda, Matt and Shaun who weren't in the collab who may want to insert bits.
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Adam inserted his bit, Matt and Shaun already read it and were ok with it, I spoke with them already. And Amanda also read it, i pointed it to her.
Just wanted you to know, :D .
Round-robin June 22nd Emergency Meeting
Wow, Shaun was okay with it? I was sure he'd want to put some Darian bits in since we hardly did anything for him. But yeah, if everyone's green-lighted it I can't see any reason why it can't go up. Of course, I wasn't actually IN the collab (except as ghost writer for a bunch of different characters :) ) so it's not really my call.