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Owner	Pose
Father Berislav	Sterling, CT Bluebird Diner 9:03 AM     Thanks to some networking from Brick and Buttercup, the Watch has another sympathizer in the small, struggling town of Sterling. Coordinating primarily with the two of them (being rather anxious around Berislav for the priest's professed distrust of police), Detective Fuller has left a dead drop of case files taped under one of the tables.     Buttercup and Brick will know the exact one. Berislav, meanwhile, has put out a call to meet there--which also extends to Tamamo, the resident exorcist. As well, a request has been made to Lobotomy Corporation, given its agents' propensity for dealing with the outlandish, unusual and terrifying--'payment' is a matter of a favor owed later.     What all that means is that you have the back corner of a diner to yourselves, with the option of a nice breakfast to counteract the late-season chill in the morning air. The decor of the place is like many other greasy spoon establishments, with a small dining area, mostly occupied by booths on one side and a bar on the other. Wood panel walls and beige tile floors are lit by softly humming fluorescent lights.     The menu is plastered in pieces upon the wall overlooking the kitchen behind the bar, and much of it is fried. Chicken, fish, eggs, bacon, various styles of omelette, hash browns, and even burgers are among the things on offer here.     Berislav is sat down with a modest breakfast platter of toast, crispy bacon, hash browns and two over-medium eggs, paired with a cup of orange juice. He folds a newspaper at your approach, setting it aside. Seating is doable, if awkward--each booth can seat four, and the barstools lining the other side of the restaraunt are close enough (owing to its small size) to maintain conversation.     "Hello," says the priest. "Thank you for coming. We have a lot to discuss--not only what Buttercup and Brick have compiled working with their contact, but what I've learned from my own investigations." Outside, a silver station wagon with wood paneling races past the restaurant.     "Good night," remarks the elderly line cook. "What could be so important at nine in the morning?" He shakes his head and returns to his work. "Somewhere along the way, the world got itself into a big damn hurry."     "To bring those of you who weren't present before..."
Father Berislav	...up to speed: It all began with a young man named MICHAEL, and a priest, FATHER GARCIA. Michael was believed to be possessed, and in fact, was--but the demon overpowered Father Garcia after a long and grueling exorcism which saw Michael sequestered away from his family. The Watch managed to track Michael down, and Tamamo was able to exorcise him. Though Michael is safely back with his family at this time, there were concerning similarities with his possession and an incident roughly a year ago.     Michael had made a beeline for the abandoned MARTIN HOUSEHOLD in the forest. After a number of ill omens leading up to Michael's exorcism, the rescue team discovered AMY MARTIN, a girl supposed to have been under psychiatric care following the murder of her parents and one FATHER ALLRED one year ago. Amy's face had been carved out, evidently as part of some sort of ritual for 'The Second Death.' Father Berislav believes a cult is responsible--and those present for that tense night in the woods with the hearing to testify could certainly hear that they weren't alone.     FATHER JOHN WARD was found on the scene at the Martin Household, having attempted and failed to exorcise Amy. He noted at the time (corroborating any superhumanly-gifted hearing) that he was followed by someone in an SUV, for most of his trip into the woods. A police report (filed with the sheriff's office, but available in Detective Fuller's dead drop thanks to his pulling some strings) mentions a stranger at the birthday party for the Millers' sons (it's a long story, Tamamo can confirm)--tall, pale, dark clothing, bald, with horn-rimmed glasses and a goatee.     Berislav himself has brought along both the ritual instructions Amy left behind upon her mysterious escape, as well as a letter from someone named 'Gary' found at the household, beneath the floorboards in Amy's room. it is likely that 'Gary' and the figure in the police report are one and the same.
Tamamo	Tamamo, who is rather cheery at this hour of any given morning, is making do with a stool. Booth chairs provide problems for both her physiology and her propensity for heavy clothing, but she does not seem to mind the lack of backing.     A car races past. She glances that way. "Wood is not a usual material for modern vehicles, yes? Perhaps my eyes deceived me." It's probably not important.     "A goatee, black clothing, horned glasses... hm... might one draw a picture...? No, I suppose it is not particularly important, but something about this image gives me an ill feeling. You may call it intuition." She only adds a moment later, "Apart from the issue of him being an intruder for an, ah... for a party celebrating a child's age."     While she's already familiar with most of the situation, there are a few parts she hasn't had a chance to examine, herself. "The letters... might I see them?"
Angela	Angela of course can't go to meet with Father Berislav in a hotel but Berislav--even though he explicitely actually more threatened L Corp than provided aid at this point--is not exactly on... BAD terms with L Corp. And not being on bad terms means that lending a hand with one of his missions is something L Corp is willing to do. A bit of assistance here might encourage further assistance, they reason, especially since Walpurgisnacht--despite the lack of fatalities--was QUITE emotionally draining. Welfare Captain Fox has been sent to assist. He is wearing his EGO Gear and weapon, neither of which look particularly impressive, along with a pair of glasses. The EGO Weapon looks like a revolver. The EGO Gear just looks like some standard issue kevlar. He is not the most well geared Agent in Lobotomy Corp. Tennant is also present, as is Hokma on a tablet--the Sephirah is peresonally interested in Berislav. Hokma and Fox seem disturbed when the story of AMY MARTIN'S face being carved out is shared.. Tennant seems excited because this is a genuine horror situation and Tennant loves horror, especially when they get to be a part of it. Tennant says, "Well if there are any monsters, we've brought some scanners to transmit data back to L Corp. The Second Death though... most people only die once!" "Except for Ishirou." Fox says. "And anybody with Resurrection Insurance. And that Touta character." "...You're ruining the mood, Fox." Tenant complains. Hokma cups his chin thoughtfully, considering the story. "Actual demons." He marvels. "Or spirits at least. Fascinating. Some cults in the City, when encountered by Fixer Organizations, have occassionally shown a strange tendency of their faith being rewarded albeit in subtle ways... May we see the ritual instructions so we know what to watch out for in the future?" Hokma looks to Tamamo, after. Hokma is the one Sephirah in L Corp she HASN'T actually met before. "Speaking of, Miss Tamamo. If you could sometime, I would appreciate getting to meet you properly at L Corp as the others have. At your leisure, of course."
Rowdyruff Boys	Brick is present and he has a plate of pancakes in front of him. Today he's wearing an appropriately red sweater, jeans, some boots that have seen better days, and has a leather satchel tethered to his belt hanging at his left hip. An incredible number of crows are relaxing outside of the diner with a copious amount of fruits and nuts to occupy their appetites. A few of them seem, even, to be on tentative guard duty of all things... though they're just crows that have been bribed rather than familiars of any kind, so they're only great at it insofar as crows are generally great at responding to bribery. The briefcase full of case files is open to the left of him on the interior seat of the booth, and the files themselves are split up between himself and somebody else who may or may not actually be with him at this specific moment. Regardless, work is already going into usefully sorting and collating the information. A simple, red spiral notebook is sitting on top of the pile with the first round of notes already made. The whole pile is being ignored for the moment because Brick is more interested in eating his pancakes before they get grotesquely soggy. "Wood panel cars were more common thirty to forty years ago. Usually it's a very used car if you see those now," he answers Tamamo, just before biting down on a large, sliced square of pancake.
Dysnomia	For the first time, Mia joins the gathering of elites in what would pass for casual clothes, at least paying lip service to discretion. Wearing a baggy gray hoodie and jeans, taken from who-knows-where, and who-knows-how-legally, if you ignored the collar, the glowing eyes, hair, teeth, and the floaty way that her hair trailed behind h--     It wasn't convincing at all, really. But at least, looking at her, you could at least imagine her as some human-adjacent traveler, passing on through. In an integrated world, it drew fewer eyes to her than she expected.     But not none. And she was grateful at the chance to slip into the diner, to get away from them. She avoided eye contact, walking briskly toward the back, just another busy soul amongst many--if a strange one.     "I'm not sure what good I'll be here, Father." Mia admitted. "I have no experience getting even psychic parasites out of anyone, nevermind demons." She frowned at the word, a touch of disbelief flickering over her face. But the multiverse had stranger things in it than demons.     She had a nagging impulse. An itch, to open eyes that were not. Like pain in a phantom limb. She sighed.     "Most people only die once!"     "I don't recommend it." A mirthless line crossed her face that could have potentially been interpetated as a smile. "It's no fun."
Tamamo	Tamamo orders the omelette with the strangest name as soon as she has the staff's attention.
Charlotte Newman	With the location provided, Charlotte arrives through the Reversal; deposited from a glitchy portal ringed in glitchy blocks of argon and helium glow. Once she's satisfied that her mode of transit is largely unnoticed, the girl circles around to the front of the diner and lets herself in with the telltale jingle of the bell over the door.     The line cook gets a polite wave and a "Good morning!" from her before she shuffles aside to join Berislav. Charlotte chooses one of the counter stools rather than the booth, resting her purse in her lap with a thoughtful noise.     "And good morning to you too, Father," There's some strain in her tone but whatever it is it's something unrelated that she's working through separate from what's going on here in Sterling.     Berislav goes into the recap. Tamamo goes for the letters. With a thoughtful noise, Charlotte opens up the notes app on her phone and pours over what she's documented so far. The unholy shrine, the wretched shape of Michael during his possession, the birthday invitation; even the cultist instructions that Brick refused to let her photograph, so she had to type out its contents as best she could. The disturbing letters found in the house that Tamamo wants to see again.     "I'm feeling a bit out of my depth," the girl admits, her expression puzzled over her notes, "But I'll help however I can... This Gary guy seems like our most concrete lead." She shoots a look over her shoulder at the line cook. When satisfied he's out of earshot, she returns her attention to the group, "If we're sure it's a cult, this Gary guy sounds important to it. A recruiter or-- a higher-up? A priest, maybe? Was there anything about him in the files we got?"
Powerpuff Girls	Buttercup had done the sort of legwork you might see in your television shows. She walked right up to the police office. She asked to speak to an officer, because, her friends were in danger. She had gone there, being honest, thinking that she would get 'the Police' like how she understood them. Instead. . . Providence provided her Detective Fuller. She was ready to flatten the place and call Boomer over to pull the computer stuff out of the computers, when she sat down and had a conversation instead. And *then* the Rowdies had shown up. Buttercup sits at a diner table with a plate of over-easy fried eggs over (fried) potato pancakes and a side(-plate) of (fried) bacon, wearing a green ball cap, a very distressed black leather jacket over a green tank top and black denim jeans with spiked belt and rolled up cuffs. While Buttercup is eating bacon and pancake stacked on a fork slowly, the folder of papers is passed over to the inquiring bunrei by-- Blossom had arrived with her sister, waiting until sitting down (having not ordered anything) to chide the emerald Puff. "You could have asked." The ruby red murmurs, only for Buttercup to roll her eyes. Having flipped through the files at a quick glance, it is Blossom who turns over the briefcase to Tamamo. As she does, she stops at the Very Normal person wielding a revolver and Kevlar. "I don't think Conneticut is an open carry state." Blossom asides to Captain Fox, in the sweetly precise tone of someone in a lobby trying to figure out why they're clearly in the wrong building.
Aidan Proudpick	Aidan takes a bench seat across from Berislav, wearing a sleeker set of winter clothing, though fairly mismatched and worn thrift store purchases. He is fully equipped, including his side bag of various undead hunting gear he googled, but now not so poofy and easy to grab by twisted human shapes. After a moment to settle his tail in place, he looks over the menu with a grimace. "A bowl of fruit, orange juice, and some sliced mushrooms, dry and plain, no, no butter, completely dry please." Another grimace at the pile of files, knowing he can't help there. He nods along with Dysnomia. "Just point me in the right direction, at least." He is much more perky than the previous night because he has had a chance to sleep since seeing the body horror. Maybe slightly more ready for it. Tamamo gets a smile, and Aidan has to take a moment to think if he can recognize the agents, but he gives them a wave regardless. With a pineapple in his mouth, Aidan mumbles over at Blossom, "What's open carry?" His rifle slings across his back.
Odette Raskins	Among those visiting the diner today is someone that would look more at home in a hospital parking lot or ambulance, carrying a deep blue jacket folded and slung over her shoulder while she takes off her hat (complete with a white cross on the front of it) upon stepping inside. She takes a minute to peruse the menu of the diner, looking intensely troubled as she looks it all over and struggles with what to order. Eventually, she settles on fish, eggs, hash browns, and an entire pitcher of orange juice before sitting at one of the barstools closest to that reserved corner. Having never actually met anyone before, she's more than comfortable to float along the edges of the conversation at first, listening in and trying to absorb everything that Berislav and the line cook speak of. Her face pales slightly when the talk of exorcisms starts, then settles back to normal when it turns towards cults instead. Cults are still made of people, after all, and that's considerably less terrifying to think about even though the individual in question, Gary, strikes her as someone that might very well need an exorcism and extraction from the cult. "Someone wearing that kind of stuff to a party unannounced... Either this Gary's our culprit, or he's just a really bad stalker. Almost sounds like he's trying to get caught or something." Odette comments while sampling bits and pieces of her own order and drinking plenty of juice to go with it. "Do we have any leads on where he might be now? Or..." She lets out a concerned noise as she considers Fuller's dead drop. "Where the Millers are?  If he was following any of them around, then checking near them might be... W-wait. We probably don't want to scare them, though, right?"
Rowdyruff Boys	"There are," Brick replies to Charlotte, "a great deal of incidents that went to varying degrees neglected, and because of that a significant amount of what is to be found is the conspicuous absence of information. And don't take photographs of this shit with your fucking phone." He already sounds Completely Done with the matter of using cell phones for situations that might require a little bit of security caution. Whether he's joking or not is unclear, though he certainly wasn't the last time it came up. He gestures towards Aidan with his fork, "You. Work out why 'point me in the right direction' was the wrong thing to say, out loud." He shoots Odette a withering look at the notion that //We probably don't want to scare them, though, right?// For the moment at least, he seems to be the only member of the Rowdyruff Boys present. That will probably change... one of the others is bound to be sniffing around nearby, or at least on combat standby.
Lilian Rook	Just because Lilian is still pissed-- and weirdly uncomfortable about being so-- at Berislav doesn't mean she isn't going to check up on where she recommended Tamamo. The two of them don't always do everything together, but given it was her own recommendation to ask her to deal with an exorcism, she'd certainly feel responsible if anything were to happen after. And . . .     "It's sort of like being at Twin Peaks again, isn't it?" says Lilian, who has entered the third or so diner of her entire life. "Evil spirits, small town murders, the lot of it." The gaudy old vehicle catches her eye, too, but she hasn't the perspective to opine. "I suppose it might be for the sufficiently old-fashioned." she says instead, airy and noncommittal.     Finding herself a seat, Lilian deliberates, goes a little wide-eyed at remembering her open schedule, relaxes slightly, and then calls for what menacingly amounts to 9am fish and chips by being ordered with a few sideways requests, and then something from the bar that requires her to flash ID. After a moment's delay, she also calls for toast and less-than-crispy bacon. Even her dressed-down state is too much for a diner, but she'd gotten away with it at Twin Peaks, so she doesn't seem to notice.     "So if the demon is out of Michael, and the Martin Girl is dead, are you still involved for the sake of Garcia, as you alluded to before, or are you too invested in this alleged 'cult', Berislav." says Lilian. Unusual that she'd leave off a title, twice. "Your misgivings about this 'Gary' figure; well it's very normal to have concerns about a strange man at a birthday party, but matters of potential grooming aside, what could he have to do with demonic possessions? Especially those similar merely for their stubbornness."
Meika Kirenai	American-themed diners and family resteraunts don't quite live up to the grease-sheen of the official deal. But it's still awkward for her to take up the aisle-side booth seat she's precariously situated herself in, and crane her neck to stare at the menu, knowing that what cash she's got stuffed in her pockets is foreign currency to here- no matter whether they'd take credits or plain old dollars, neither are what works for her back home, and from back home is where all the money has comes from. .     Empirically, this makes her not a customer. Hence the booth. You can get away with spending time seated, near others, and not buying anything, a decent bit easier than you can at the counter. Her stomach doesn't grumble as food arrives for others.     Hunched up in posture, with her worn-out letterman jacket a protective shroud from both cold and discomfort, she's unwrapped a silverware kit just to fiddle with scraping the fork across the booth's tabletop. She's avoided, directly, giving anyone much of a pleasant or direct greeting, beyond quiet little nods and just taking a seat where she can. It still feels weird to be along. 'Wood is not a usual material for modern vehicles, yes?'     "M-mostly it's old stuff that's like that. But it's-" She's muttering, words punctuated by soft metal-on-wood squeaking and scratching. "It's kind of classy, isn't it..?" 'A goatee, black clothing, horned glasses...'     "Doesn't that sound kind of like- like a cartoon villain? That's really suspicious, right? If you want I could try and draw-" She pauses. "Wait, you... m-mean someone who's... actually seen his face, right?" Her hand is already on her messenger bag's flap, slightly hesitant-looking. 'Almost sounds like he's trying to get caught or something.'     "S-sometimes people just aren't good at sneaking. Or- are worse than they think. It's not that hard to tell." A shuffling little shrug-noise gives more indication to the expression than her shoulders actually move, beneath her oversized jacket. 'I don't think Conneticut is an open carry state.' 'What's open carry?'     "Isn't that California that isn't?" Meika's awareness of American gun laws come fully from interacting with Petra, and exist skewed heavily with her Texan perspectives. "It's- it's stupid, anyways, right? People should be able to- yeah." The fork squeaks again.     "B-besides. Father Ward was doing it. And-" She trails off. "Where is he, actually..? I thought he would be... part of this all, too."
Lilian Rook	Despite being a late arrival and total stranger to the case, seeing the phone has Lilian start to say "Christ. Have you even heard of infose--" before Brick has the exact same thought anyways. Realizing it's Charlotte's doing after has her looking even more baffled than the first thing.     'What's open carry?'     "It means you need to put your hands up and go with the loud shouty men when they point guns at you, imbecile." Lilian then says to Aidan. She is not, technically, carrying herself. Or rather, no one would recognize the only weapon stowed under her blouse anyways. "Thou shalt treat with the laws of the land in good faith, and substitute not thy own." she repeats, pointless, half of the fourth. "How difficult is it to look these things up? And--"     'You. Work out why 'point me in the right direction' was the wrong thing to say, out loud.'     Lilian pauses a second time. The acerbic momentum building behind her words tapers off all at once. She was, very clearly, about to explain to Aidan why she hated that very sentence; the fact that someone else took exception takes her off guard only slightly less than the fact that it was the same person. That they chose 'tell me in your own words' instead of simply telling him clearly puts her into a strangely thoughtful state.     "I believe I know your name, but have we been formally introduced?"     'People should be able to- yeah.'     "Have you ever gotten a dirty look on the street?" Lilian asks Meika, without looking away from the menu, and then incoming food. "A particularly hair-raising call for attention? Glared out of a store? Blocked on the sidewalk? Eyes on the back of your head?" She has no basis for actually thinking Meika has ever experienced any of those things; she at least intends to paint a picture. "How would you feel about those people being armed? When you're sneaking out of school, out on the streets, fighting Temptations without anyone knowing what you're doing, how would you like the appalled people who see you having guns on them? While creeping around their property at midnight, no less."
Tamamo	"Of course, Mr. Hokma. I would be pleased to have a longer discussion when the opportunity allows." Tamamo answers. She gives Tenant and Fox a glance, but doesn't interrupt their conversation.     "Thirty or more years... I see." Tamamo acknowledges Brick while silently attempting to estimate just how long it's been since the diner's last renovation.     "Ah, Ms. Dysnomia, hello. We have not had a chance to speak since... my, how long has it been? And yet, I suppose, I have heard your voice a good few times since..." Mia can at least rest well knowing that Tamamo's 'disguise' is no more than modern-made cold-weather clothing, herself, and it's the trio of fluffy red tails that have necessitated her use of the bar stool. Aren't foxes known for their disguise abilities? And yet, this one's always this recognizable.     'It's no fun.'     "Hm, no, the memories of death are something most souls would be glad to forget, I should wager." The degree of personal experience indicated in her tone is ambiguous.     Tamamo accepts the case from Blossom with an, "Oh, have we met? You may call me Tamamo, as it happens," even if Berislav already introduced her. Buttercup's the one she's seen a few times already.     Most of her focus moves to the contents of the case once she has it open, and all her focus will be on it when she begins her scrying to search out possible leads on whoever had written or handled the letters before they reached their hidden destination. She's quietly eager to try the local cuisine, but she only has so many hands.     It's fortunate for Aidan that, at this point in the timeline, she hasn't seen or heard anything to corroborate Lilian's dislike of him, which means she's perfectly pleasant if turn, if without much spare attention. Much like how she has no particular idea of why Lilian's dislike for Hibiki runs so deep.     'It's sort of like being at Twin Peaks again, isn't it?'     "The hotel stay there was rather nice. Or... is it a motel? I admit, I am uncertain as to the particulars of hotels, motels, and inns."     'Wait, you... m-mean someone who's... actually seen his face, right?'     "Oh, there are none who supplied a photograph, I imagine. Have you a... what was it... on the tip of my tongue... Lilian, was there a term for the skill of 'drawing a portrait by description'?" Tamamo turns from Meika to Lilian to ask, despite this implicitly switching the topic from Japanese to English.
Aidan Proudpick	You. Work out why 'point me in the right direction' was the wrong thing to say, out loud." Aidan has to think about that while he pops a grape into his mouth. "Well, okay, I'm not bad at solving puzzles either. I meant when we actually get to the, you know, holy stuff part." He takes a moment to tap his claw against his buck teeth to drive his thinking gears to lubricate. "How does the Gary fella know there's a birthday? With at least enough kids for the ritual." He waits for someone else to correct Lilian. Anyone. Anyone please. Nope, her sights are already set on him. Aidan puts his hand over his eyes, along his forehead, in the universal sign of 'if I can't see her, maybe she'll go away'. He manages some polite grating out, since he doesn't want to make this hard for the Father. And the whole terrified of her thing. "That one isn't specifically in my code. But I'll try to remember."
Odette Raskins	Brick's look has perhaps the intended effect: When Odette notices him looking right at her, she swallows nervously holds up a hand in the barest of waves before quickly turning back to her food. The fear is clear in her body language, and the least scary direction to look in thus far is the direction with no people in it: Towards the food. She does peek over every now and then to see if he's still looking, though, then twisting away again if he's so much as facing in her direction when she does. Hearing about the possibility of monsters from Tennant, strangely enough, doesn't bother her nearly as much. She does raise an eyebrow in slight confusion as some kind of 'Second Death' is brought up, though, and then the fear comes back when Hokma and Mia speak of spirits and psychic parasites. She barely even looks relieved when Lilian brings up past experiences with spirits, and she eventually just shakes her head quickly to try and dispel any thoughts of that from her head. They can't be real, after all. If that was the case, they'd be invincible. Meika commenting on people being bad at sneaking, meanwhile, has Odette looking at her uniform. She's actually glad to be wearing something that sticks out like that on purpose, but it does get her thinking about what else she could have worn. Or... Perhaps what she could wear, if a cult is involved.
Charlotte Newman	> "And don't take photographs of this shit with your fucking phone.     Charlotte laughs at Brick's comment. In response, she unfastens her purse and pulls out an extremely cheap Kodak disposable, "Don't worry, it's Bigfoot Hunter Approved and guaranteed to never be in focus." > "Christ. Have you even heard of infosec?"     The girl pauses, dipping her head in deference, "Good morning, Miss Rook. I know what that is-- but I thought this was an investigation, not a top secret mission." She glances towards Brick again, "Did I misunderstand exactly what it is we're doing here?"     It's dawning on her that this is starting to feel less like a mystery to solve and more like planning a public figure's assassination. That doesn't feel right.     She mulls it over while flagging down the servicewoman to order some pancakes and scrambled eggs; resolving to listen for now.
Angela	Fox looks to Dysnomia with a grin, "...You were waiting to use that ilne for a while, huh." He spins his revolver in his hand like he's practicing for the Revolver Ocelot story idly throughout the conversation (and he won't stop). He's still spinning that thing around in his hand and tossing it from hand to hand wordlessly when Blossom arrives to tell him... ''I don't think Connecticut is an open carry state'' Fox continues his twirling that's definitely against gun safety regulations. "Eh? But Tenant has a sniper rifle?" The camera pans over to Tenant who, at this point, leans to the side a bit to readily reveal that they are also carrying EGO Gear on their back which seems to be some kind of--yes--sniper rifle! "Oh don't worry." Tenant says. "These bullets are explicitely designed to ''not'' miss and as long as I'm real careful, I won't murder my friends with it!" Tenant smiles at Blossom encouragingly. "Zero friendly fire incidents so far!" "It's EGO Gear anyway, that's totally different from a revolver." Fox says as he takes aim towards a window and mimes blasting it before twirling it back into a holster. Fox doesn't, somehow, give Meika the gun but he does agree, "Yeah it's a little crazy especially since eye lasers aren't regulated at all." Fox adds. Hokma dips his head politely to Tamamo, "That would be lovely." Angela, of course, won't help with the introductions so he adds, "Tenant can take you to my department." His gaze settles on Lilian after. "...Dame Commander. It has been a long time since our first conversation. Thank you for your continued assistance."
Powerpuff Girls	Buttercup, who has been going through it and is packing calories to mend her wounds with oil fried food, looks up at the mirthless-rough 'joke' that Dysnomia makes, on dying being 'no fun.' "Sorry you went through it then. Seems rough. Did you get better? Or," The emerald puff stabs her fork crunchingly through dark-brown hash-crisp and bacon fried to the point of stiff crackle, shattering little pork flinders about her plate. "Just different?" Blossom, dressed in a wine red blazer, white collared shirt, bright red ribbontie (matching the one in her hair), plaid skirt, black leggings, and leather loafers, crosses her legs underneath the table and leans back, a certain kind of Surprised at the reaction and then dropping her chin and lifting her hand to brush fingers to her temple and then back through her ponytail. "It's a particular kind of law that many places have about how you can wear weapons in society. Some states have different standards." Lilian provides a useful bit of insight to springboard and join voices to - and Blossom is certainly willing to allow a little meangirling of corrective and positive nature. She takes it as positive! Because: it is corrective. "Think of it like rules about the level of threat you can show to be, rather than are. The 'polite' part of 'polite society'." But, as she looks around, the pleasant smile of an assured class president dims at the raw level of repeated bearing of arms. Tamamo asks the ruby Puff about how they are acquainted, and Blossom perks up pleasantly. "Oh, I'm very sorry." And happy to get off that topic to something pleasant. Letting it die makes it just educational! "I'm Blossom Utonium. I'm helping out my sister. We haven't met, but, I've 'heard' of you." She offers with a slight smile and a warm look while tapping her ear. Buttercup grunts. "Super-hearing." Blossom scoffs. "Please, Buttercup. Think of the info-sec." Buttercup narrows her eyes, and then piles a whole potato pancake into her craw and, while chewing, updates to: "Sheev's novy." 'She's nosy'.
Lilian Rook	'was there a term for the skill of 'drawing a portrait by description'?'     "Composite drawing?" Lilian helpfully offers.     'I admit, I am uncertain as to the particulars of hotels, motels, and inns.'     "I believe it was, strictly speaking, a hotel." she says. "I believe a 'motel' is defined by the individual rooms being enterable from outside." Thus is the limit of her knowledge about things that aren't five star hotels.
Rowdyruff Boys	Meika's stomach growls. Brick ignores it at first, but when she sits down and just... kind of awkwardly mills there while talking with people, particularly when she addresses Blossom, he takes a sharp breath and looks at her. He considered her a liability when they first met, and for the most part she hadn't gotten in the way... he's not really certain what to make of her, and he hasn't been following the going-ons on the radio closely enough to have assessed her properly. He makes a mental note to tune back in, deciding that he's probably let himself be out of the loop for a dangerously long time. He jabs his fork in Meika's general direction, "I can hear how much you're running on empty. Order something. You weren't a liability before, so I'm not having you bottoming out in the middle of an investigation because I decided not to pay out twenty dollars worth of diner chow." He'll let Blossom address the state of carrying weapons in Connecticut. Spending the next few moments trying not to eat too alarmingly quickly, Brick still clears all but a quarter of his plate before somebody addresses him again. Red eyes flick from the seating opposite him towards Lilian. He swallows the chunk of pancake in his mouth. "Brick Jojo," he answers, plainly. As an afterthought, he adds, "Pleased to meet you." Leader though he might be of his little band, Brick is not the face of them and it shows. He seriously contemplates cramming the entire last quarter of pancake into his mouth before disinterestedly splitting it into more pieces with the edge of his fork and picking at them. Once again, he's silent for a while, until Aidan comes back around to him. Brick only doesn't sigh because he has another mouthful of pancake at the time. He swallows again, and somehow it is a frustrated set of motions. "Think for yourself. Look for possibilities. Turn things over in your head. Wield the curiosity that your over-large brain presumably endows you with," he eyes Aidan up and down, trying to decide whether or not his brain is sufficiently human-adjacent for the idea to apply. "Don't wait for a command. You're not a god damned pocket pal." Charlotte, meanwhile, surprises him by actually pulling out a disposable kodak. "Good work," he says, simply. If he wants it to happen again, he needs to be encouraging, he supposes. To her questioning of his concerns with secrecy, he says simply, "Bad habits can be tools in themselves, but they're easy to carry into the wrong situations." He lapses back into comfortable silence, his eyes settling on Blossom, who he pays a gratuitous amount of attention to considering that she's basically just saying shit he would with a more lawful bent.
Meika Kirenai	'So if the demon is out of Michael, and the Martin Girl is dead,'     "Ah, um," The fork's tapping stops. "She's- m-maybe not dead, Chevalier Rook. She got pulled inside her... own face. It's- I don't think she-" The magical girl shivers.     "S-still horrible, though." 'Have you ever gotten a dirty look on the street?'     Lilian's comment incites Meika to shift her posture, and look down at her own outfit, shoulders tightening up. "W-what, is there something on my-" She shuts up as Lilian continues. Oh. Right. That's rhetorical, isn't it. It makes sense she'd think that too.     "I- I have one too, at least. And they-" She chews her lip, posture deflated and brow furrowed from self-consciousness. A free hand scratches at her arm through the thick sleeve of her jacket. "You're right. I guess it'd... be worse if they did, too. Yeah." 'Think of it like rules about the level of threat you can show to be, rather than are.'     "Does it- I'm not a-" Meika cuts herself off, looking away from Blossom, somehow even more fidget-ly self conscious. "I don't even have one of those gun-holder things anyway." 'Oh, there are none who supplied a photograph, I imagine.'     Meika does actually pull her sketchbook out, finally, and fishes around her bag for a pencil. "I've never tried doing it from just- just that, but I can try. It's..." She looks down at her sketchbook, and hesitates. "Does- does anyone else have other paper I could use..?"
Lilian Rook	'That one isn't specifically in my code'     "Huh?" Lilian responds to Aidan like she can't be bothered to look at him, yet is absolutely certain he'd just casually pulled his own face off. "What code? The last time I asked, you said you didn't have one."     'Well, okay, I'm not bad at solving puzzles either. I meant when we actually get to the, you know, holy stuff part.'     "That wasn't even an answer." Lilian says, irritably. "What help is 'just point me'? The entire reason we're here is to decide where to even aim. If you can't help with planning, direction, intent, then why are you here? If we needed an idiot with a gun who'll take orders, we can always call the police."     'Good morning, Miss Rook. I know what that is-- but I thought this was an investigation, not a top secret mission.'     "We have a human, potentially well-connected suspect, don't we?" says Lilian. "If not an outright enemy. If Berislav's inferences about a cult are correct, there could be any number of them. Do you have any idea how heinously insecure a phone is? Even I could lift something off of that thing." she says, producing her own smart device after.     "Most 'hacking' is utterly mundane, and takes advantage of minor carelessness. I don't keep anything important on this for a reason." Which is true, except the worst thing to happen to her in recent memory happened because DRYCLEAN scraped her contacts list for DON'T ANSWER. "They've successfully covered things up to an unusual degree, at least. It isn't unreasonable to assume they have help. Just memorize the contents." Totally normal and reasonable.     '...Dame Commander. It has been a long time since our first conversation. Thank you for your continued assistance.'     "I suppose it has been. I'd say you're welcome, but it hasn't been ideal so far. Let's only say that you may continue to expect it."     'I'm Blossom Utonium. I'm helping out my sister. We haven't met, but, I've 'heard' of you.'     "It's a pleasure to meet you." says Lilian, who wasn't asked. She glances vaguely approvingly at Blossom's fit, and seems pleased with her Polite Instruction of the error of Aidan's ways.     'I'm not having you bottoming out in the middle of an investigation because I decided not to pay out twenty dollars worth of diner chow.'     "Twenty?" Lilian looks just a bit confused, drowned out by intentional reservedness. "Is that right? Are the dollars here . . . Ah, never mind. That's terribly generous of you, but I may as well take the bill." she says, and then, after a moment of thought, "Unless it's something standing on principle for you."     "A pleasure to meet you as well. I seem to recall you being one of very few voices of reason, during . . ." Hmm. Maybe she won't think about Petra's spiral into murder right now. "Lilian Rook, of course."     'She got pulled inside her... own face. It's- I don't think she-'     "Beg pardon?"     Lilian at least seems too drawn in by that, and mollified enough by Meika's agreement about open carry, to pursue the rest. She pauses just to get a plate of greasy food put in front of her, pick up the lemon slice, and spatter the fried fish with a shockingly gory spatter of juice.
Tamamo	'Eh? But Tenant has a sniper rifle?'     "I suppose it may be difficult for you to hide such thing, but it would be polite of you to make an attempt." Tamamo doesn't sound very hopeful of it, but it's a thing to do. So long as the carrying isn't open, then there's no issue.     'I'm Blossom Utonium.'     With a smile, "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Utonium. Ah, considering..." A brief shift of attention toward Buttercup, "Should I call you Ms. Blossom? I suppose I am rather unused to meeting siblings 'in the field,' as it were." Brick had been secretive about names, so it hadn't come up then.     "You seem to have a good relationship." Compared to some people she knows, that's definitely true.     'Composite drawing?'     "Mhm, yes, that was it."     'Does- does anyone else have other paper I could use..?'     "Oh, yes, one moment, if you please." Tamamo reaches into a pocket, and pulls out a stack of paper. It's bound in twine, four fingers wide, and about three times the length, but it's paper. She retrieves a piece for Meika, being careful to avoid the food everywhere when she reaches over.
Aidan Proudpick	"Then you must have not have heard me right." Aidan tries to get out of Lilian's line of fire and focus on Brick. He is, afterall, trying to do just that. Aidan glares over at the table at Brick, but there's no actual heat in it, he looks back at the files, face going back into focus. He taps a foot against the ground as his thinking method, popping a sliced mushroom into his mouth. "Alright. Sooooo... Gary has to be someone's father, right? It's really hard to get a bunch of people together on short notice. Unless the cultists are just sitting around all day waiting." He looks around the diner, settling on every one in turn, trying to remember what their various expertises are. He waves a hand towards Tamamo. "Miss Tamamo! Can you tell me if this Gary guy is a father? Or maybe what his last name is?"
Dysnomia	"...You were waiting to use that ilne for a while, huh."     She seems to take a moment to consider this. "You'd be surprised."     "Did you get better? Or, just different?"     "Different." Her tone is brusuqe, as she begins to realize that she's acknowledged something of herself she doesn't want interrogated. She diverted the subject, instead. "We need to think logisitics. These people have to be operating out of somewhere. A place to do these rituals. An abandoned warehouse, a storage garage. Ways to get food. Resources..."     Her face scrunches up in momentary frustration. She rubbed her knuckles against her temple. "Berislav. This ritual. Does it need any esoteric pieces? Something that might be able to track him with?"     "Ah, Ms. Dysnomia, hello. We have not had a chance to speak since... my, how long has it been? And yet, I suppose, I have heard your voice a good few times since..."     "It can't have been too long." But she was frowning, now, wondering what the real scale of it had been. "It's not like we haven't worked together, since, even if we haven't talked much."
Tamamo	'Beg pardon?'     "She has been transported to what we may reasonably theorize to be, or to strongly resemble, a hell. It was my opinion at the time that, given the differences in the passage and scale of time between such worlds, we should either have sufficient time to make proper plans before following her, or else should count ourselves as being already too late to rescue her from its effects." Tamamo supplies this with, for the most part, calm.     'Miss Tamamo! Can you tell me if this Gary guy is a father? Or maybe what his last name is?'     "A moment, please. I shall attempt to divine such answers."
Charlotte Newman	> "We have a human, potentially well-connected suspect, don't we?"     Charlotte nods a few times as she takes in the Dame Commander's assessment and reasoning. It all makes a good amount of sense. There's a little indignance when the security of her phone is brought into question, though. It's the same device she does her own hacking with; filled with Watch security she thoughtfully put in when she joined. But-- she realizes thinking about it means she doesn't have to say it around Lilian Rook. All Charlotte manages to do is look sheepish; almost like a child who didn't mean to backtalk.     "Right. Memorize the contents." she repeats quietly. She glances towards Meika when Brick addresses her and Lilian chimes in, then the other way towards Blossom and Buttercup as they chatter. Brick compliments her learning from his outburst last time, but she still quietly tucks the disposable camera back into her purse. > "We need to think logisitics. These people have to be operating out of somewhere. A place to do these rituals. An abandoned warehouse, a storage garage. Ways to get food. Resources."     Dysnomia brings up a good point, pulling Charlotte out of sullenly prodding at her eggs now that they've arrived. She glances aside towards Brick, then the other way to her phone resting by her elbow. Without a word, she pulls up a GPS map of the area and starts checking for closed or condemned buildings in the geotags.
Father Berislav	>Tamamo: Order strange omelette     The one with the strangest name is probably the B-52, unless Tamamo has a penchant for aircraft or alternative music. The ingredients are actually pretty tame--three eggs, ham, peppers, onions, and cheddar cheese with a side of toast. The letters... might I see them?     Berislav nods and hands them over. Tamamo's concerns about this stranger's intentions are very much justified, given the content. They are alarmingly, stomach-turningly affectionate, laced with red flags that someone Amy's age, inexperienced, isolated and seeking connection, would miss. It is clear that this 'Gary' was trying to extricate her from her family.      Gary wrote them himself. From a strange cabin, surrounded by gnarled trees with bark that seems to shift more like skin than wood, spied through the darkened windows. It doesn't look like the same forest. The emotion associated seems to be an eager anticipation--but not for Amy, exactly. It's hard to say what. Maybe for what she represents?      It was handled successively by a number of... devotees? Hangers-on? Thralls? There is a sense of giddy elation that, disturbingly, is more akin to an addled addict or, uncharitably, a devoted pet, than a person in their right mind, which persists through the many hands which carry the letters to the house, lie in wait for Mrs. Martin to leave for errands, slip it into the mailbox and rap upon the door, scurrying with exhilarating glee into the cover of the trees. Most people only die once!     "I believe the term has to do with Christian eschatology," says Berislav to Tennant. "In that context, many people may indeed die twice. There's a common misconception that 'Hell' is eternal punish*ing,* rather than eternal punish*ment.* At the End of Days, everyone who ever lived will be brought before God, and those judged unworthy will be cast into a lake of fire. It isn't torment, but destruction."     "Demons, yes," he says, turning towards Hokma's tablet, "I have reason to believe that's what we're dealing with, and I don't believe that they're dancing caricatures with pitchforks, either." He frowns thoughtfully, meticulously cutting around the yolk of his egg. "'Satan' means 'accuser--' the scripture paints them as prosecutors, ultimately subordinate to God and tasked with making a case against the world. This is opposite the Holy Spirit, also known as the Paraclete, or 'advocate,' serving as the 'defense.' Thus," he says, between working on the egg's white in pieces, "This cult, I believe, is trying to call court to order, and invite God's judgment. If I'm correct, then we should do everything in our power to convince Him there is still evidence left to consider, and to save those most vulnerable to this cult's predations."
Father Berislav	>Case files and incident reports     For anyone with pattern recognition and without the impulse to ignore the uncomfortable, the case files paint a pciture of Sterling in the past two years as a steadily growing spot of occult interest. Fuller had suggested to Brick and Buttercup that they start with the numerous incidents at a cemetery, and 'work their way down' the other cases.     The cemetery in question has had no less than five reports from citizens, one of which led to the discovery of a gruesome homicide wherein the victims bore ritual carvings on their bodies and a family tomb was desecrated.     Brick's notes on the matter can be consulted instead of the photos--they note that these markings do have historical basis rather than just 'something people thought was spooky' It appears to be one of the Aramaic languages, a group of languages originating in Syria which spread through Mesopotamia, Sinai, Anatolia and Arabia--but notably, Berislav, the person with a background in theology as opposed to occultism, posits that it was likely the language spoken by Jesus and his disciples, in his day. Brick's notes indicate that the markings are to denote some sort of offering; the quality of the photos leaves some doubt as to whom, but the working guess is 'R--P-AN' based on what is legible. It *could* be 'Remphan,' a minor demon noted in something called the 'Seal of Solomon,' but there is relatively little information about this entity. I have no experience getting even psychic parasites out of anyone, nevermind demons.     "I wasn't trained as an exorcist," admits the priest, now spearing with relish the yolk of his egg. It's just runny enough to be delicious. "I never had the gift, and I didn't want to be... cloistered away from people, either. It's a difficult life, I'm told. It's enough for me that you're here, and you'll help as you're able. 'From each, according to their ability.'" He smiles wryly. That one isn't Christian scripture, per se. This Gary guy seems like our most concrete lead. Do we have any leads on where he might be now? Or...     "Apparently," says Berislav, nodding towards the briefcase, "This detective was also suspicious of him." The files include a scraped-together description of Gary, with a few testimonials that are suspiciously glowing. At the time of putting these files together, Fuller was apparently still waiting on a background check requested well over two weeks ago.     If she checks it out herself, Charlotte can see that Gary is known to volunteer at a fertility clinic downtown. Where the Martins are?     "I'm afraid they're dead, Odette," says the priest. How did he know her name? Is he that on top of new recruits? "The official story is some sort of mental breakdown. Given the... correlation of events, I'm inclined to say that Amy was possessed as early as a year ago." It would have been a cover-up, partly by the authorities who would very much prefer to live in and enforce in a world that makes some sort of sense to them, and partly by the Catholic Church. "The... children, apart from Amy, died well before this 'birthday party.' Tamamo tells me that Mrs. Martin had a tendency to..." he frowns. "Indulge in a kind of escapist fantasy, which her friends indulged despite Amy and Mr. Martin's requests to the contrary." And, his tone implies, contrary to her therapist's suggestions.
Father Berislav	I don't think Conneticut is an open carry state.     "Leonard," says Berislav to the old line cook, as the gray-haired portly fellow slices up some fresh fruit for Aidan. "You don't mind, do you?"     Leonard is actually quite good at multitasking. "As long as you all watch where you're pointing those things," he says, "I guess it's fine. But put 'em away if a local comes in. I don't want people getting the wrong idea." Food is brought out in staggered waves. I don't even have one of those gun-holder things anyway.     Berislav nods attentively to himself, in the way that suggests he's thinking of a Christmas present. What could he have to do with demonic possessions?     "At best, he's grooming minors, as you said," says Berislav. "And, I might add, very possibly abusing the trust of those that visit this fertility clinic, given the character of his letters to Amy. In the year since he's been here, the people around this Gary have, according to Fuller's notes, made a near 180 in their attitudes towards him, but his behavior doesn't seem to match that shift in direction. You have experience dealing with things that attack and subvert the mind, don't you?" He nods, towards Fox, Hokma, and Tennant. "As do the three of you. If you need a reason from me, other than earning the forbearance of God's judgment upon this world, consider it 'peace of mind.'" You... m-mean someone who's... actually seen his face, right?     "That's not a bad idea," says Berislav to Meika. Beg pardon?     "She's right," says Berislav. "There was... an arm, which emerged, from the cavity. She was gone a moment later--fleeing either Tamamo or Father Ward, no doubt." Does it need any esoteric pieces? Something that might be able to track him with?     Berislav passes Dysnomia the note with the ritual's instructions. Unfortunately, it is splattered with blood, blotting out portions of the instructions.
Meika Kirenai	'I can hear how much you're running on empty.'     Meika's mannerisms, even her smallest little motions, go conspicuously silent at that remark- immediate and defensive. "I'm fine. I-" Her foot boot taps against dirty tiles underneat the table, anxious and soundless. "I can- I can pay you back, sometime." There's a momentary flash of panic, as she tries to think what the currency exchange rate is, and draws a blank. 'Is that right? Are the dollars here . . .'     "Ah-? Is this place really expensive, or- or something..?" Terribly generous? *Can* I pay it back? The magical girl is getting more and more nervous. "It's- it's okay. It's fine. I don't usually eat breakfast, anyway. I'll just- Later. I'll get something later." 'Beg pardon?'     "Y-yeah. She..." Meika clears her throat. "It was just kind of... that. An arm- something's arm, came out of the... hole that w-was sort of there instead of her face, and..." She awkwardly mimes out the rest of the action, twisting a shoulder to make it look like one of her own arms is coming out and grabbing herself to pull.     A second later, she clears her throat again, and goes back to a quiet, hunched stillness. "And then nothing was left."     When Tamamo passes over the paper, she's glad to have something else to focus gaze and fidgetting hands on, her pencil tapping lead-tip against it as she mutters out a little 'Thanks', and an 'I'll do my best'. She starts to sketch up the barebones outline, progressing through given details as conversation continues. With it distracting her, it's odd just how much less nervous she passively looks.
Angela	''I don't even have one of those gun-holder things anyway'' "You want one? It'll be easier to carry with one, otherwise you like have to just hold it out the whole time or put it in a backpack or something and if someone checks the backpack--bam--they've got your gun. Little trickier to get to the holster." Meika reveals that Amy might not be dead. Fox looks ill. Tenant lets out a low and awed whistle. ''It would be polite of you to make an attempt.'' Tenant lowers the Magic Bullet to the floor and slides it under their seat like they're trying to hide a porn mag under their bed after being caught with one. ''You'd be surprised'' "Arright. You paid a visit recently. How'd it go?" Fox asks. Tenant gets an explanation about Christian eschatology and they seem to nod along and pretend they know about some of these things but they do understand other things. "Oh, that sounds kind of cruel, really, if the alternative is eternity. Though I guess eternity can come with its own problems. But does it have to be fire? It's not the most prosocial manner of execution." Hokma seems fascinated by this discussion and says, "Fascinating... It seems strange that they are willing to consign themselves to fire if that is what they believe in--in order to let others ascend at this moment of judgement. But I suppose Faith can move us in strange directions, including a sort of self martyrdom. And once possessed by demons, well, then 'all hell breaks loose', I suppose...!" He mulls. "I suppose we'll have to show ''Him'' our Faith instead." There's a small momentary pause between the words 'our' and 'Faith'. Nor does he really explain what that 'Faith' is meant to be in considering it is doubtful he knows what 'Him' is--but he does have his own 'Him' that he does have complete faith in after all...so he understands the importance of it. And how it can be perverted to dark ends. ''But it hasn't been ideal so far.'' Hokma is quiet for a moment and then admits, "Perhaps not, but it hasn't collapsed either. And even if we have to hobble across the victory line--that is still a victory. We all appreciate every ounce of aid you can spare--and are willing to do our part to aid you in turn."
Powerpuff Girls	The pooling about Blossom's question of carry has the Puff a little off-put because of the *particular* character of why Conneticut in the far-flung year of 2015 (by the Townsville reckoning) was among the most tightly controlled carry states in the United States. "I wouldn't worry about it, miss." She asides to Meika, the warmth a bit faded out but ruby red carrying a bit of pleasant heat to it all the same. "If you're thinking about it, you're doing better than a lot of folks. If yesterday would have been better, starting now's still fine. Or," A slight smirk, more a weak cheek smile - she understands not really pushing 'buy this thing' to people of distressed finances. "When you get a chance." Blossom had also heard Tamamo's endorsement of the Chevalier, and also heard her helping out Buttercup. There's a general acceptance of 'allyship' already, from at least the red Puff, for everyone at the table... But she's been nosy, and heard people's help. Buttercup hasn't heard Dysnomia's, trying to get the tangible read off of her fellow in gothy roughness, but the 'I died and don't want to talk about it' line is earning her more attentive sympathy and not less. Safely, the girls understand Situations, and so Buttercup just keeps talking around too, instead. "Sure. Logistics. The detective we talked to provided us with a bunch of case files, sure, but what I was really interested in asking him about was a place to set up a place to meet that wasn't..." 'Leonard,' ... 'You don't mind, do you?' Buttercup grimaces. "In people's business. If we can get a tip on some abandoned property and then file some papers about it--" Buttercup glances towards Blossom but cranes her head past to look at Brick, before rounding to Berislav and Dysnomia. The ruby Puff makes a face at the sisterly snub - the emerald flashes a toothy grin. "--we can have a place to bring people to if they need to rest up, too. The Padre," Berislav. "Is already getting watched out of the housing place he occupied." "You didn't introduce yourself to our star exorcist, Buttercup." The red adds, mild as the cream in the strong coffee being slung, as the topic of undoing the threat to the people of Sterling actually comes back around. Her sister groans, every third-sister's 'do I HAVE to' breathy sigh at once before sitting up and nodding to Tamamo - almost professional! "Buttercup Utonium." A brief pause occurs while she napkins off her fingers and offers them around Blossom's front to Tamamo to shake. "Thanks, for... helping. I'm not big on the whole horror movie thing." "You hate anything you can't punch out." Blossom editorializes. Buttercup shrugs, hand still extended. "I'm a simple girl. Bass guitar, right hook."
Rowdyruff Boys	"I'm not going to have a money fight with you, if you want to get it, get it," Brick replies to Lilian on the subject of buying Meika a meal, though he doesn't seem to expect that it's a pride thing of any sort. As for the value he came up with, he adds, "I doubt it would cost twenty. It was an arbitrary figure. Probably more like eleven ninety five, unless she eats like Buttercup over there." Or himself. It's not a real shot at Buttercup, he's just aware that all of his immediate peers have a caloric demand that is out of proportion with their bodies a lot of the time. On the other hand, he's quick-witted enough to catch Lilian's meaning when she trails off. His eyes drift reluctantly from Blossom back towards Lilian. "I don't like it when the entire supposed support structure around me starts making bad decisions across the goddamn board. I get enough of that shit from the Mayor. It was like sitting around a pile of children, and all the adults had been turned into... dogs or babies or something for the whole month. Eventually just shut off the radio." From the way he says it, both of those examples are simply things that have happened around him. "I hope she gets her shit together," he grumbles, looking conspicuously from Lilian to Buttercup. Brick has some sympathy for Petra, but most of the reason he cares is because Buttercup cares, and those two have a strange sort of favorite-in-laws bond despite neither of them being married. When Aidan starts trying to actually think, Brick nods at him. His frustration seems to be centered on the Watch as a whole, and so he's just correcting things whenever he sees them now. Given his exchanges with Charlotte, it's obviously not constrained to him. He avoids the eschatological topics at hand, and seems poised to discuss the direction of things after Berislav lays them out, but he's diverted by Meika-- and he very definitely notices the 'silencing' effect that layers onto her. Brick replies, "The Commander's got it, she said. Take it up with her. But get used to your basic needs being addressed if you're going to be operating around us. If you can do what you're doing on empty, I want you full to do whatever you can do then." His attention swings back over to Berislav. "That kind of grooming is often a short hop away from trafficking. I don't feel like looking away from the grooming by itself, but we're probably looking at a supply line if we can actually follow this Gary's trail. That one..." He jerks his head towards Dysnomia. "Has the right idea, there."
Odette Raskins	"She's- m-maybe not dead, Chevalier Rook. She got pulled inside her... own face." That finally gets Odette to stop eating. She looks back at Meika, then back at her food, then starts pushing her food around with a fork. "That doesn't sound great, but... I-if we can find her soon enough, then we might still be able to save her from... Um. Whatever state she's in? Maybe..." She doesn't want to make any promises there, and she's won't realize until a little bit later just how bad it really is, but she's still trying to keep some hope alive for herself. When Tamamo gets Blossom to shift gears into introductions, meanwhile, reminds Odette to do the same. She looks surprised when Blossom semi-introduces Buttercup as her sister, though, getting distracted just long enough to forget to do her own. Instead- "Are there any other groups we should be worried about while we're here? Ah." She looks from side to side like she'll actually spot any eavesdroppers doing that, then lowers her voice conspiratorially. "Like the cult or any sympathizers?" "If Berislav's inferences about a cult are correct, there could be any number of them." "They've successfully covered things up to an unusual degree, at least. It isn't unreasonable to assume they have help." "Then... Should we use some kind of code? In case the demons-" She sounds a little more relieved, when Berislav refers to those instead of spirits or anything incorporeal. "-and whoever's helping them can hear us already." Odette pauses to consider the location and the difficult of creating an effective cipher right then and there, quickly realizes it's far beyond her grasp, then resumes eating as she listens to Bersilav's idea of what the cult might be doing. She doesn't even catch that he knows her name right away, either, simply nodding along at first with his explanation about the Martins at first and wincing again as she recalls what Meika said about Amy and her face. "Dang it. Can't-" She pauses briefly, then continues. "-check with them, then. But..." The EMT scrunches her face up, apparently catching something about what the priest says. "That's the official story. That means someone besides Gary and the detective had to know, too. Someone higher up, with... Um. With the authority to make that the official story instead of what really happened." Getting up from her stool, Odette pours herself a fifth glass of juice and downs it before going to whoever's got the briefcase and trying to get a better look at those files. She's looking for those glowing testimonies in particular, to see who they came from in case that might give some ideas on a connection between all of them. "Wonder if any of these folks had that kind of authority..." As she tries to get a peek at those files, though, Odette starts to look worried again. "If he's part of this cult, though, I don't know if interrogation would work...?" She half-asks and half-suggests, sounding uncertain about that already. "I-if he believes in whatever he's doing already, I don't know if he'd ever be willing to let any info slip. Or whoever's with him, since he probably won't be waiting alone if.. Um. I-if he knows we're looking into this." And then Buttercup introduces herself, reminding Odette to finally do the same (after another bite of fish)! "M-my name's Odette Raskins, EMT in training from the Company, and part of a new Multiverse outreach program. Nice to meet you all!" She curtseys lightly, then pats the big dumb medical satchel on her seat. "I-if you need a hand with any kind of treatment, I'll be right over."
Aidan Proudpick	Aidan listens somberly to Berislav talk about this nature of Hell. He leans forward over the table, enthralled by it. The idea is entirely alien to him, more like a story of mythology than anything. His tail twitches back and forth as he drinks it in. "This cult, I believe, is trying to call court to order, and invite God's judgment." "On just one child? On just a few children? That seems like so much work to completely destroy one or two children's souls. I guess it doesn't have to make sense, we are going to stop them." At the old man's suggestion, Aidan carefully and sheepishly pulls the fantasy gun off his back and stows it next to his leg under the table. "Sorry, sir! Thank you!" He hms, frowning as he turns out to be wrong, but shrugs it off just as quickly. You don't attack a blacksmith puzzle just one way. He lifts his tablet and whispers into it 'hey google, what's a fertility clinic'. He has it on quite low, letting his squirrel ears do the rest. "Huh. Alright." He looks over at Dysnomia with Brick. "Yea. I think if all of us suddenly appeared at this fertility clinic, we might scare this guy off, though." Aidan is clearly trying to think back to his watch training by the way he is tapping a spoon against the table. "Try to push him into a trap?"
Dysnomia	Dysnomia exhales, as Berislav hands the paper over to her. Even from what she could make out, she could tell... "This ritual is bloody. You'll want somewhere remote, where no one can question the blood. Or hear the screams. We'll want remote places. Probably relatively nearby. Abandoned, or soundproof."     "Seven? Seven...children?" She guessed. "One is Amy?" There was certainly a future where she could find one of those places where it happened. It infuriated her. "What a morbid ritual." The understatement of the eon.     "Somewhere where they could do this, without people getting suspicious. Somewhere close enough where bringing the kids is practical." She glared at the paper, as though answers might emerge in answer to her wrath. She nods to brick. "We need to know their supply lines. Where they get their 'vessels.' Where they get their tools. If we do that, we have them." She sounds like someone trying to draw up a battle plan in front of a map.     "...I can't help with that part of it." The admission grated. "Not in any timely manner."
Father Berislav	Is this place really expensive, or- or something..?     "Quite the opposite," Berislav reassures. "Not even the most shamelessly opulent restaurants in Sterling would charge that much for a plate, and the ripples of the Afghan-Soviet war have yet to spread completely outwards besides." Not to mention this is a good twenty years or so before a certain housing crash. Probably more like eleven ninety five, unless she eats like Buttercup over there.     "Eleven ninety-five," laughs Leonard, bringing out drinks and shaking his head. "You know there's a place in Hartford that charges *twelve* for *soup?* *SOUP,*" he incredulously repeats. This is not that kind of place, at all. Oh, that sounds kind of cruel, really, if the alternative is eternity.     "It's no more cruel than the slow, grinding death that this city's poor and vulnerable are made to endure," he says. "Not to mention what the average City dweller has to survive. Both of those things are someone's fault, Tennant. And at the End of Days, there will be a final, fair accounting." It seems strange that they are willing to consign themselves to fire if that is what they believe in--in order to let others ascend at this moment of judgement.     Berislav frowns thoughtfully. "I want to prosecute the world, as well, in my way--using its tools against it." And knowing that I might be giving up my chance at eternity. "*Do* they believe in it?" he asks, "Or," nodding at the letter as Tamamo examines it, "Are they just evidence, gathered by the prosecution, to be put aside after the case is made?"     "If it's the former, then we stand a good chance at extricating them; turning that anger and drive towards something prosocial." His frown deepens. "The latter... well, given the character of this Gary's communication with Amy, I'd sadly be more inclined to believe it's the case, should he be involved with this cult after all." The Padre is already getting watched out of the housing place he occupied.     Berislav nods. "There is the 'Candy Tunnel,'" he says. "Its usual tenants aren't the kind of people to take issue with the Watch, or, I suspect, even the Paladins--although it seems not even they are totally safe there." It's a culvert system beneath an overpass, a home to the kinds of people who fall through the cracks or are otherwise let down or villified by the society of this world. Unfortunately, it's also the purported stomping ground of a notorious serial killer. But that should be more than enough for Multiversal hands to handle, right? Somewhere where they could do this, without people getting suspicious. Somewhere close enough where bringing the kids is practical.     "It would also be the perfect place for a cult like this to operate," he says, working on his second egg and nodding at Mia and Brick. "I'd like to investigate the clinic and the cemetery, but I think the tunnels would be a fine starting point."
Father Berislav	Should we use some kind of code?     "Maybe," says Berislav, proceeding with the first egg in much the same way as the last. He seems to like saving the yolks for last. "But even if we don't, I think it'd be wise to stick closely to at least one other person, for any business in Sterling. They had Father Ward followed, and may have had us surrounded in those woods." On just one child?     Berislav shakes his head. "In their eyes, Amy would be... a 'vessel,'" he utters with distaste. "A means to an end. No, this Second Death they're after would mean bringing about the End of Days." Try to push him into a trap?     "I won't say 'no' unqualifiedly," says Berislav. "But this man is an emotional manipulator and, at best, naturally charismatic. At worst, *un*naturally charismatic. What he wants is... 'impure vessels,' if he's part of this cult--and I'm not comfortable putting just anyone in his sights like that. We'll hold the option in reserve, but it shouldn't be our first resort. There are... sympathizers to the Watch, here," he says. "I can have them keep an eye out, keep their distance, and report back to me. The cult may have eyes in Sterling, but so can we, if we use them cautiously."
Tamamo	'Thanks, for... helping. I'm not big on the whole horror movie thing.'     "Oh, of course, of course." Tamamo takes Buttercup's hand. She has the sort of grip of someone who's been told neither why nor what a 'firm handshake' is, but she has the motion down. "I am glad to help, Ms Buttercup, though I must admit to not having seen any horror movies, myself. Those are the ones featuring the hungry spirits of the dead, yes?" She sounds a little unsure.     Tamamo takes her time enjoying a B-52, once it arrives. Overall, she approves of the choices. There really are so many things one can do with eggs, as a base. This will be filed away into her cooking knowledge.     "No," is what she finally says to Aidan. "I do not believe this 'Gary," no 'mister,' "was a father." She then takes a few moments to collect her thoughts.     "Most importantly, I see that these were written in a... cabin, in a... different woods. The trees showed a disturbing character through the windows. We may expect our trail to lead well away, to another secluded location -- for these letters were made to remove Ms. Amy from her family. It was not for her own sake, precisely, not... a particular desire of her in the sense most would imagine."     Her eyes are still on the letters, occasionally flitting over to the open case files. "I do not see anything as would be recognizable as a human's relationship, with this man. I suppose him, in fact, to be possessed, if not merely a spirit adopting an illusory guise. The motives involved, the feelings of... unrestrained joy, shared, are just as I would expect of a spirit allowed to do all as it wishes, knowing none are able to inflict it any meaningful harm, and uncaring of the harm brought to others. There is certainly a means to attain happiness, there, in caring for naught but the inevitable, and what boons may be scooped into one hand's along the way." She sounds rather than less than happy about it. Traces of irritation. Tired. Still primarily calm, but affectedly so.     "Many others assisted, and these were the ones who shared these feelings. Whether these were 'people' was not clear from that which I could see."
Lilian Rook	'She has been transported to what we may reasonably theorize to be, or to strongly resemble, a hell'     "That would . . . ordinarily mean that someone is dead." Lilian says, trying not to belabour the petty distinction when it comes from Tamamo; Lilian assumes she at least knows well enough to be saying it. "I suppose that answers a few things. It'd be rather 'inconvenient' for the Father if she had." Now she uses it.     The letters are ostensibly exactly what she feared. The mere glimpse of them upsets Lilian's stomach, but she puts it out of mind soon enough. She had far different things to worry about at that age.     'This cult, I believe, is trying to call court to order, and invite God's judgment.'     "Ah." Lilian blinks, sounding oddly relieved. "Then they're a very ordinary sort of cult in the end, aren't they?" After another moment, "And yet you have no reason to believe that the Martin girl's soul is . . . ?"     'The... children, apart from Amy, died well before this 'birthday party.''     "Ah." Lilian's tone veers withdrawn and uncomfortable.     'Mrs. Martin had a tendency to... Indulge in a kind of escapist fantasy, which her friends indulged despite Amy--'     "I understand." she adds, veering again; absolutely frigid.     'In the year since he's been here, the people around this Gary have, according to Fuller's notes, made a near 180 in their attitudes towards him'     Even before Berislav says a word further to suggest it, Lilian blandly remarks "My my, he's having fun with the powers of a demon, isn't he?" She says it with such mildly bitter and exasperated certainty that it sounds almost as if she thinks the subject is gauche. Tacky and amateurish. Perhaps it's straight out of a textbook, as far as her training is concerned. "No need to underscore the point. I was already about to make myself his problem since the moment you pinned his location." Notably, she seems to have no other complaints about Charlotte using her phone; or anything to harangue her with after, really.     Despite hearing about maimed bodies and reports of human mutilation and sacrifice, Lilian takes a break from cutting up and neatly eating diner fish and chips in inappropriately polite manner to thoughtlessly bite into chewy bacon an an equal and opposite inappropriately 'casual' manner. She hadn't quite been precisely the same amount about little things like meat, after 'that day', but it's clearly a harmless quirk. If perhaps maybe deeply unpleasant for Aidan.     'I'm fine. I-'     Lilian already has a french fry held out offhandedly towards Meika. "Would you mind trying this? I'm not certain they're fully done." she says, lying as naturally as she breathes. "And of course not. I'm rather shocked it sounds so cheap. I suppose the economy must be rather unique, here." says Lilian, now convinced this Conneticut is something like bailing to somewhere in South America with a thousand dollars in pocket.     'You want one? It'll be easier to carry with one'     "Stop getting Meika guns and gun accessories." Lilian sighs. "Her home hates it."     'And even if we have to hobble across the victory line--that is still a victory. We all appreciate every ounce of aid you can spare--and are willing to do our part to aid you in turn.'     "You know, Hokma. For a city gone completely mad, your company tends to say some outrageously sane things." says Lilian. "Things so perfectly reasonable that I never seem to hear them elsewhere.     'If yesterday would have been better, starting now's still fine.'     "My. Two already. In one sitting, no less. Present company is rather surprising." she says more about Blossom than strictly to her. She nods pleasantly as Buttercup is thoughtfully reminded to introduce herself to Tamamo. How respectful.
Lilian Rook	'I'm not going to have a money fight with you, if you want to get it, get it'     That much pauses Lilian's knife and fork work. She regards Brick without quite watching his face, but maintaining polite contact while considering some intangible thing off in the distance. "Money fight? My apologies, but I'm not certain I'm familiar with that wording." she says. "I'd only assumed it was natural. If we're to be covering costs, then the one to whom it matters the least should only do so, shouldn't they?" Lilian takes a slightly tense breath. Navigating unfamiliar territory. Faintly anxious not to accidentally offend.     "That is to say, if it's a matter of simply having something to eat, it's fair to say that it should cost a second of my time than a day of someone else's." She is, blisteringly obviously, entirely predisposed with 'trying not to sound like she's calling someone poor', and thus conveniently oblivious to the further extrapolation of what she's admitting she thinks.     'I get enough of that shit from the Mayor.'     "I see. That's unfortunate." she says. "I've yet to . . . Well, perhaps that isn't true. Maybe I should say that I might sympathize?" Her eyes are back down on her plate. "I hope so too." says Lilian, and means it. "Girls like her tend to, at least, when given time and place to let them try." Food is averted for comfort bacon. "Without dogs and babies, at least."     "A 'supply line' . . . I suppose that business at Twin Peaks still applies. Or rather, I suppose it's common enough to assume so as a general rule. Going off half-cocked to the bastard's door--" Lilian stops and glances around as if to dispel the sudden certainty that Hibiki is here.     'In case the demons and whoever's helping them can hear us already.'     "Perhaps you should, actually." Lilian says. "For when I'm not around."     'I think if all of us suddenly appeared at this fertility clinic, we might scare this guy off, though.'     "Please, for the love of Christ." Lilian pinches the bridge of her nose. "Leave it to someone human, female, unmodified, and of reasonably adult age."
Aidan Proudpick	"A means to an end. No, this Second Death they're after would mean bringing about the End of Days." Aidan doesn't have to be a Christian to understand that. "Oh. Oooh. That makes more sense." He frowns, "Kind of. I always figured those things were just on some sort of big calendar to happen on this day." What he wants is... 'impure vessels,' if he's part of this cult--and I'm not comfortable putting just anyone in his sights like that. "Yes, no, I agree, okay." He turns his sights on Tamamo as she starts giving a much more indepth look at the man than the little file can offer. "I'll take your word, since I've never met anyone that crazy." Aidan is deliberately trying not to look at Lilian consume meat. It is, thankfully, white fish and bacon, and isn't quite the same as the human chum he swam in. But still. "Leave it to someone human, female, unmodified, and of reasonably adult age." "Yea, I was planning to be in the trap part waiting for him, anyways." Aidan uses claws to pick up bits of mushroom and then a napkin to wipe them off. He fishes into his pack for money to pay for his meager breakfast, pulling out a hemp bag of walnuts as he does so.
Lilian Rook	For some reason 'seven children' alerts Lilian.     "That's . . . very conspicious. Could you confirm if either parent has six or more siblings?" she asks, offhandedly.     'If it's the former, then we stand a good chance at extricating them; turning that anger and drive towards something prosocial.'     "Beg pardon?" Lilian drops her fork, and looks dead on at Berislav for a moment. "The cult? Committing abductions and murders? Potentially involved in child grooming and mass exploitation of women? I must have misheard."     'But that should be more than enough for Multiversal hands to handle, right?'     "At least mine." Lilian says, now wary.     'the feelings of... unrestrained joy, shared, are just as I would expect of a spirit allowed to do all as it wishes, knowing none are able to inflict it any meaningful harm, and uncaring of the harm brought to others.'     Lilian goes conspicuously quiet until she finishes her bacon.     "We can hope to be so 'fortunate' twice, then." she finally says.
Rowdyruff Boys	//That would . . . ordinarily mean that someone is dead.// "The distinction is a thin and blurry one," Brick remarks to Lilian. He sounds irritated about the fact itself. "When it comes to ritual magic somewhat-dead and concretely-dead can be difficult to distinguish. If we think of what was done to her as a 'franchise' of Hell, it might not have the authority to declare the latter, in which case actually killing her might send her elsewhere. It's a long shot, I'm not going to rely on it as a possibility. If I was asked to put a number to it, it would be close to zero. But it is still not zero." He takes a deep breath, and adds, "The reason we suspect that might be a possibility is because of the inward collapse on herself. It was visceral, but more fantastical than visceral. The difference between catching a double barrel to the head and cartoon superviolence, if you catch my meaning." //Money fight? My apologies, but I'm not certain I'm familiar with that wording.// Brick rolls his eyes. It's obviously not at her. "Some people will fight over the bill as a matter of high fucking honor. Puerile dick-swinging contests. One of my brothers is like that. I'm just saying that I don't mind ceding the responsibility." //Well, perhaps that isn't true. Maybe I should say that I might sympathize?// "Yeah," he says, very briefly glancing between Lilian and Blossom, "you seem like the sort who gets all the work forced on her. May your incompetent shitheads get over themselves." Brick very definitely doesn't think that's going to happen. //Leave it to someone human, female, unmodified, and of reasonably adult age.// At that, Brick shifts in his seat, considering. "I've got an idea." He nods towards Blossom, "We're going to need Bubbles. We'll send her in with my brother. They pass for ordinary, and Boomer is enough of an idiot golden retriever that he won't blow it in a way that isn't natural. Dumbass will stumble all over himself in exactly the right ways to be believably useless at a fertility clinic. Bubbles can just do Bubbles things and it'll be fine."
Angela	''Stop getting Meika guns and gun accessories'' "Oh, my bad." Fox says. "After you get to Alaska." ''Both of those things are someone's fault, Tenant.'' Tenant frowns. "I guess..." They say. "It does just seem...strangely retributive. Like the sort of rules the City would use too. That's why it feels weird, I guess, because it ''is'' just fair, right? Instead of... I don't know. Better than fair? ... Is 'fair' the best God's got?" But Hokma considers Berislav's own risks in prosecuting the world and using the tools of it against it. "Mm... I should warn you, Berislav, that we tried to use the tools of The City against it. And we paid a price for it indeed." Hokma shakes his head. "...And we still haven't succeeded in our putting The City to task for its crimes against its people, let alone The Head. In the end, all we have are the same tools the City would use so I understand your reasoning, but I would never recommend that course to anyone I hoped to see doing well for themselves." He frowns at the idea of just having the Faith in question be a lie but he doesn't have an answer to that question. The idea of reforming the cultists that pulled a girl through her own head is a little disquieting of an idea to him as well but his attention turns to Tamamo as she does her work. Then he frowns, thinking over her words. ''Your company tends to say some outrageously sane things. Things so perfectly reasonable that I never seem to hear them elsewhere.'' Hokma has an uneasy chuckle--the uneasiness towards the situation at hand rather than Lilian herself. It just seems strange to have any sort of laugh more joyful than uneasy right now. "I hope it isn't so strange as to be suspicious--but we ''were'' trying to change things for the better. We may have lost our way, or found ourselves mired in the destructive tools and traits of the enemy--but our goal still remains to build a better future. It is too bad we did not have access to kinder tools--or could not see them." Having seen Phony's own facility... ''Leave it to someone human, female, unmodified, and of reasonably adult age.'' "I am an adult neither," Tenant says. "But I can lay in wait to pop off a demon's head off." They mime the 'pow' motion with their fingers.
Father Berislav	I do not see anything as would be recognizable as a human's relationship, with this man. I suppose him, in fact, to be possessed, if not merely a spirit adopting an illusory guise.      "We should hope that's not the case," says Berislav, spreading a little butter from a little plastic disposable cup on his toast. "Even if we should also prepare for it. I'm not even close to the occultist that Brick is, nor the demonologist that Father Garcia is, but I know that there are vanishingly few instances in the main body of scripture of demons or spirits that don't need hosts. And yet you have no reason to believe that the Martin girl's soul is . . . ?      "Compromised?" Berislav shakes his head. "I don't know," he answers. "But I would like it very much if we could redouble our efforts where Father Ward failed, all the same. For Amy, and for anyone else the cult has made into a 'vessel.'" I was already about to make myself his problem since the moment you pinned his location.      "I had little doubt you'd feel that way--but I'm still glad to hear it." Stop getting Meika guns and gun accessories Her home hates it.      Perhaps better to stick with someplace she can see polar bears, then. I must have misheard.      "I'm afraid you did," says Berislav evenly. "Or rather, you missed the second half of what I said. It happens," he says, gently shrugging before finishing his toast. "And it's not important, anyway. I'm quite solidly convinced, based on your expertise and Tamamo's, not to mention her...clairvoyance?" He isn't sure if that's what it is. But, he continues. "...That Gary Miller is involved with this cult."     "Given his conduct to that effect, I doubt most of its members know the real reason for its existence. If Amy is any indication, they're lured in with these..." He makes a face. "Overtures, promised something that he can reasonably guess they're not getting, and fully indoctrinated before they can realize they never will." We'll send her in with my brother. They pass for ordinary, and Boomer is enough of an idiot golden retriever that he won't blow it in a way that isn't natural.      The bacon crunches--but not before the priest pours maple syrup on it. "That's an excellent idea," says Berislav. "Especially since they'll be able to watch each other's backs." Is 'fair' the best God's got?      Berislav smiles at Tenant. "Ah," he says, nodding. "The difference between equality and equity. Yes, that's a good question to ask, and one which few even in the clergy bother asking. The answer is 'no,'" he says. "'Truly, I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'" I would never recommend that course to anyone I hoped to see doing well for themselves.      That's the first thing today that's broken his outward air of calm collection. He sighs, his fork clinking against the plate. "I know," he says, with sad resignation. "Isaiah is a gaudy caricature of the expression and exploration that people could have, if it weren't for the apathetic, insatiable forces that created it. It's watery gruel, made to appeal to the specific band of people who either know society won't let them have anything more substantial, or who can overlook being an extension of all-consuming beast because they think that its claws are mountains and its growls are thunder."      "When Petra and I first met on assignment, she..." Expressed her fondness for it, and I had to act politely enthused, when inside me there was nothing but despair. The priest clears his throat. "To be so closely tied to that thing," he says, "To develop these," he says, clenching one fist and drawing the opposite index across his callused knuckles, "And every other weapon I have, has cost me dearly, and I know it will continue to. For the Amys and Michaels of the world, I'll pay it."
Father Berislav	The priest stands from the table, leaving a tip. "In any case--we'll start with the tunnels. Boomer and Bubbles can work on the clinic angle, at the same time, and regroup with us once we've established a foothold. In the meantime, I'll establish contact with Father Garcia--and hopefully, Father Ward. More exorcists won't hurt in the slightest."
Powerpuff Girls	Blossom Utonium is a woman who aligns with her Rowdy opposite in many ways, though a subtle one is the use of object examples to prove negative behavior. That it was another of the Jojo's brothers was, perhaps all the sweeter: It wasn't punching *down* then. It was just keeping her siblings and in-laws honest. "I'm more than happy to work with a proven team of Paladin Chevaliers on defeating demons." Blossom lifts her eyes with faint-to-nonpresent smile hinting at her cheeks to Lilian's observations to the air. The truth was an easy balm to problems. The right truth was that balm carefully applied. Plus, their 'star exorcist' was a Paladin! On a particularly proven team. "Speaking of proven teams," Blossom looks at Buttercup. Buttercup, chasing egg around her plate with an already egg-saturated bit of latka, stops but doesn't look up for a second. Blossom's ever-so-faint smile disappears, a possessing ghost vanishing. Eventually Buttercup looks up. "Yeah?" She asks, affecting a drowsy-dope. Blossom rolls her eyes and decides she's done with trying to drag her sister over the finish line of her own project and: takes over, like she was clearly always going to do anyway. "There won't be any problems getting people into the graveyard area - one of my sisters, or his brothers -" Brick is immediately pat on the thigh and given an 'you'll do it, right?' smile that assures it's simply done. "- can put some fog or weather over the area and watch it, so everyone can..." A look is cast around the table. "Arrive as they see fit." She settles on. There were some more challenging cases than others. "Or the Padre's people can handle that locally." The emerald grouser adds, from forkscraping her bit of giving-up hash into her mouth. Unflappable, Blossom claps warmly, happy like the table should be. "We have local help we can rely on, good! Many hands makes lighter work." She certainly sounds like she means it. "I'm sure Bubbles and Boomer won't have any problems at the clinic. It's not like last time." Buttercup immediately starts suffering-groaning. "Ppplease don't remind me about the *clinic* episode. There are some things you don't live stream!" Blossom crosses her arms and sits back, smug. "But nothing's too sacred for an album?" "No." The emerald puff remands.
Meika Kirenai	Meika takes the fry, holding onto it for a long while before biting it. Lilian, Leonard, and Berislav's attestations to the inexpensiveness are far easier for the magical girl to parse that comments about a war she's never heard of- or payed attention to, at least -and things that sound like topics her parents would complain about on phone calls to others.     She doesn't even wait to have cleared her mouth of food, as would be polite, before she's mumbled out an awkward little 'Thanks'.     The quantity of back-and-forth discussion about payments, prices, economies, and pride makes Meika wish she'd ignored Brick's comments from the get-go, shrinking further in how she's sitting. Eventually, in hopes it'll make it less, she quietly orders eggs and toast, and hunches herself up to keep half-mindedly sketching in hopes she'll have less attention to pay the surrounding conversations, as if that ever works. '... Made a near 180 in their attitudes towards him,'     Meika chews her lip, as she remembers the eavesdropped words of Michael's demon. Credence given to power and capacity only makes their scratchy tone harsher and the weight of the gun in her messenger bag that much more prominently noticed. Her pencil skids across the paper, tip chipping with a muffled little curse, and ensuing sigh. 'Its usual tenants aren't the kind of people to take issue with the Watch, or, I suspect, even the Paladins-'     "What *are* the- 'usual tenets' of that candy place like?" A short pause. "And why's it called that? It's- it'd be stupid if there's just candy there, and they called it that, right..?" 'I think it'd be wise to stick closely to at least one other person, for any business in Sterling.'     "Is- is it even any worse than that other town? Bridge... something? That place is- was fine enough." Anywhere is, actually, thoroughly unpleasant if your main interaction with its surroundings is through the dull cacophany of reading bystander's minds over and over again, so that's a lie. It doesn't sting as much for the whole *group* to be told not to be here alone, but it still makes Meika's throat tighten up with the urge to defend her own capacity to handle herself.     "Impure vessels," gets muttered in repetition, as if Meika barely hears that she's saying anything at all. Her brow furrows, and she's back, instead of continuing the drawing, to stabbing at the table with a fork. 'You want one? It'll be easier to carry with one,'     "Ah-? A what- a, 'holster'? I- I mean, sure, but-" 'Stop getting Meika guns and gun accessories.'     Meika's words stop in their tracks, and a slight look of dissapointment crosses her face. "... I shouldn't, yeah. I'm sorry. It's-" Having a gun is significantly worse than having the accoutrements of one, but it's far from an encouraged behavior. It's for the best, I guess.     'I am an adult neither,'     Tenant gets a short, confused look from the magical girl, before her gaze turns back towards the table's surface, and the plate that's arrived for her to pick at. It's something better to scrape and poke at with her fork. Productive, even. She watches soft yolk ooze out of the punctureholes she puts in the fried eggs, squeezing them slightly to speed it up. It'd be normal, if she wasn't staring down with some weird sort of scowl. 'Overtures, promised something that he can reasonably guess they're not getting,'     Berislav's words about the manipulative practices of the cult are barely heard by the magical girl. Instead, for the second time in just a few moments, she's remembering the echoed, poisonous words of that first bitter and angry demon. So what promises do get kept, here, if the cults don't?