Logs:Scotch Market Vandalism

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Someone's infecting the sacred maple bacon sandwiches of the Scotch Market with rage magic. Ash and Glas intervene before a full-scale riot breaks out, tracking down the source of the magic and disabling it in the nick of time.

Cast
Ash, Glas (GMed by Niamh)
Gamedate
2010.12.20
Log
The Scotch Market is in chaos.

Then again, it's a day that ends in 'y'. At first, things seem to be more or less the usual: a wild and wonderful melting pot of a street market, with screaming children darting between tents and between the legs of old folks here looking to strike just the perfect bargain. A riot of flowers colors everything, pots hanging from awnings and sat upon counters. Someone must have imported or grown them in a hothouse, and while they may not last long in the wintry chill, they turn the afternoon into perfection, straining the credulity of greywashed eyes.

But gradually, that ephemeral feeling a willworker gets in the presence of magic starts to rise.

  • > OOC: Niamh says, "I guess in terms of procedure, I'd ask that people explain on OOC if they want to do anything involving dice, before they roll them. :) And that's about it, really -- if you don't know how to resolve something me and my books will work mightily to solve the puzzle!"

Ash strides through the market, her leather satchel in tow against her hip. She shoulders her back and twists through the hustle and bustle of the afternoon rush at the Scotch Market. Her boots resound heavily against the street, keeping a steady rhythm as she makes her way. She comes to an abrupt stop, her attention captured by the colorful pallet created by fresh flowers on display. She literally stops to inhale their sweet fragance, taking her mind back to warmer times and spring sunshine. Her eyes closed, she revels in the memories until she feels it tugging at her senses -- the arcane. It is unmistakable. In the presence of magic Ash feels an icy chill run through her bones. She hears breathless whispers pricking at her ears. Her eyes pop open and spins around, surveying the chaotic scene looking for a familiar face or something else.

Ash instinctively calls upon the Grim Sight, letting out a long, slow breath as she wills the magic into being. Her breath frosts in the chilly air like a puff of smoke and she imagines all the heat and light in the world fading away until only the presence of magic, of death and decay remain warm and bright to her senses.

  • > OOC: Ash says, "Casting Grim Sight, Mage Sight spell, p 143. (Like that?)"

* Ash rolls Gnosis + Death *------------------------
                              2 4 7 -  failure.                               

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  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Exactly! Go ahead and roll -- aw."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "This is not three-second rounds, you have two more tries before something changes."

* Ash rolls Gnosis + Death *------------------------
                      3 6 8 - (1) for marginal success.                       

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  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Good enough!"
  • > OOC: Ash smiles in relief!
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Now give me an Int+Occult, which as far as I can tell is how to analyze resonance and therefore do things like 'see magic'"
  • > OOC: Ash nods

Is it in chaos, or /is/ it chaos? It's kinda hard to say which is which, sometimes. For her part, Glas is frankly more meandering than striding, looking here and there as her shoes make little sound against the street, her eyes catching on people walking, things being sold here and there, all up until there is that one strange feeling that brings her slowly to a stop. A hand reaches into her purse as she closes her eyes briefly, making the subtle gestures that bring to her senses the vision of the supernal.

  • > OOC: Glas says, "goin for a rote~ supernal vision"
  • > OOC: Niamh nodnods.

* Glas rolls Intelligence Crafts Prime *------------------
                1 4 4 5 5 5 6 6 9 - (1) for marginal success.                 

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  • > OOC: Glas says, "ahahaha"
  • > OOC: Glas says, "it'll do"

Goosebumps, hot or cold; whether cold bones or dire whispers, the feeling of cold or the shimmering haze of the underlying quintessence of all magic, it all leads slowly but inevitably towards a stand that always draws a huge crowd: the maple bacon seller, who both sells it out of iced chests to cook at home, and fries some on site to be put in amazing sandwiches sold right out of his cart. Today the lines are especially long. An enterprising busker nearby, their case open on the ground and hungry for change, plays the violin -- badly.

The crowd is getting restless. There's an ever-increasing tension in the air. People glare daggers at each other, and especially at the musician, and accidental bumps of passerby are responded to with bodily shoves.

The feeling of magic being worked continues...

  • > OOC: Niamh says, "I will take Int+Occult if you're analyzing resonance; Wits+Empathy, also"
  • > OOC: Glas says, "suuure"

* Glas rolls Intelligence Occult *---------------------
                            2 4 4 5 7 -  failure.                             

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Ash's attention is drawn to the bacon vendor. She begins making her way toward the crowd before she realizes the rising tensions among the people, the screeching of the violin, the clamor for bacon. She stops and stands stark still, analyzing the scene.


* Ash rolls Intelligence + Occult *---------------------
                       1 3 8 10 10 6 - (3) for success.                       

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* Ash rolls Wits + Empathy *------------------------
                     3 5 6 9 - (1) for marginal success.                      

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There is /something/, anyway, something leading onward, and, making sure to pretend to be simply going aimlessly about her way, Glas moves somewhat more purposefully towards this bacon-selling stand. The rising tension of the people along the way, though--that piques her interest. She lets go the one, and instead reaches out to the /feelings/ of the place. And she's about to get close enough to see Ash, to boot.

  • > OOC: Glas says, "switching to mind mage sight ~_~"

* Glas rolls Gnosis Mind *-------------------------
                   5 10 3 10 4 - (2) for marginal success.                    

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  • > OOC: Glas says, "shall I reroll the analysis?"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Roll Wits+Empathy first."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Or reroll the analysis; your choice."

* Glas rolls Wits Empathy *-------------------------
                             2 3 4 7 -  failure.                              

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A variety of interesting facts come to light, what with all this covert spellcasting going on. Ash senses not so much the presence of death as its absence, within the flow of magic afoot -- two flows, in fact. No, suddenly there are three; for Ash and Glas are close enough to certainly see magic spring up around each other, with resonance sights on, though Glas does not otherwise quite sense anything more than a very strong hunch that switching from Prime to Mind magic may have been a good plan.

Ash also notices something odd about the crowd's behavior; the cranky ones, the troublemakers, rather irrationally, are not the ones waiting for their sandwiches, but rather the ones who already have them and are trying to get out of the way.

A tiny old lady throws a punch at an enormous man who's blocking her path out of the crowd; it lands with a tremendous crack, and provokes a bellow of dismayed rage. There are minutes at most to prevent a riot from breaking out, and possibly a lot less.

The attention of the Moros snaps to the old woman landing a blow against the man and she quirks an eyebrow curiously. One one hand, she admires the old woman's hutzpah, but on the other, she realizes that this place might be on the verge of hooliganism. Ash shoulders her bag and steps in between the old woman and the man.

"Excuse me," she softly says to the bigger man. "Sandwiches," she says dumbly before looking to the old woman. "Enjoy," she bids her farewell, hoping that she will move along and that her intervention distracted the man long enough to defuse his rage. She wasn't exactly the greatest negotiator in the world. She offers the large man dip of her head and a half-smile in greeting.

  • > OOC: Glas says, "is there anything notable about the enormous man? how's he dressed?"
  • > OOC: Glas says, "uhhh I'm looking for something to compliment so I guess Wits + investigation or Socialize"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "whichever you prefer, both are reasonable"

Glas goes with her hunches. She spots Ash, though, at that point, giving her a look out of the side of her eyes that suggests that she can tell there's /something/ weird going on here, and though she can't quite put her finger on what it is, she moves to try to head /this/ incident off at the pass, too. As Ash steps between the old woman and the man, Glas instead walks to the man with a big smile, as if nothing had happened, and says the first complimentary thing she can find about him to pop into her head.


* Glas rolls Wits Socialize *------------------------
                    1 1 3 5 9 - (1) for marginal success.                     

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  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Ash, give me a presence+expression"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Since really distraction is performance as much as anything else"

* Ash rolls Presence + Expression *---------------------
                      2 2 6 10 6 10 8 - (3) for success.                      

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The man looks down at Ash, dumbfounded; sure enough, he does seem to calm down after a moment of seriously considering braining an old lady. He takes a huge breath, then lets it out. Running fingers through his salt-and-pepper beard, he asks, "May I help you out of this crowd, madam?" The two depart in peace.

During that time, Glas sizes him up and gets a sense of working-class market-goer; plaid flannel shirt, jeans, nothing more dramatic than that. He belongs here.

Unfortunately, what the two women have done seems to be treating a single symptom and not the cause: a half dozen other small fights are breaking out inside the crowd, over everything from stepped-on gum to a spilled drink.

And the sense of magic being cast continues to persist.


"Glas," Ash greets the Warlock with her usual dry parlance, unsurprised to find her. "I'd heard you'd come to Edinburgh. Certainly you're seeing something I cannot?" She surveyed the area again, trying to ferret out anything she could about the magic being used here inspite of the fact that the Grim Sight wasn't the best at the job.

  • > OOC: Ash says, "Analyzing some more. Intelligence + Occult?"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Go for it!"

* Ash rolls Intelligence + Occult *---------------------
                    1 1 6 10 9 - (2) for marginal success.                    

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"Ash," she replies in kind, more lively as is her usual way. "I hadn't heard likewise, but I'm not disappointed. And... I think there's something, but I'm trying to puzle out just what it /is/..." She frowns, though, as, though they'd handled /part/ of the problem, the root was at large still. She puts a bit more effort into it this time.

  • > OOC: Glas says, "may I alsooo do int occult or shall I keep up the empathy"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "You sure can!"

* Glas rolls Intelligence Occult +3 *-------------------
                  2 3 6 6 7 8 9 10 10 3 - (4) for success.                   

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  • > OOC: Glas spends willpower e.e
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Okay, you both sense it simultaneously, that's convenient."
  • > GAME: Glas is burning willpower.
  • > OOC: Niamh poses~

Other than the relatively passive magicks improving their sensory suites, both maguses finally narrow right in on the source of the rest of the arcane weirdness, right at the same time:

It's coming from behind the bacon tent. There are two spells, one very much passive and largely quiescent, and the other the one that's been pinging the radar all this time, still in the middle of its business. Ash hears whispers about hatred, pain; ghostly voices caress her ears. Glas has the fortune and misfortune to feel what's going on more directly -- mind magic is somehow infecting the bacon as it's fried. Angry mind magic, which has spread to the guts, and then to the hearts and minds, of everyone who's so eagerly consuming their greasy treat.

Apparently, junk food really is evil.

Dimly she can perceive something else, a bit further back; that passive effect. It feels... constricting, tight. Unpleasant upon the senses, to say the least.


"Back there," Ash points toward the source of the spell and begins to find a path around the crowd so she can get behind the tent!

"...Right!" Glas sees the pointing, and tries to follow the path she can sense, as she does, though that strange feeling compels her to add, "There's something else there. Be careful." Likewise, she heads back, sticking fairly close.


It takes a bit of pushing and squirming to get through the crowd, and by the time Ash and Glas get behind the tent, a couple of minutes have passed and a brawl has broken out in the courtyard. It is not yet a riot -- not quite -- by dint of that enormous fellow, the one who was talked down earlier, trying to continue where Ash had begun. He keeps interposing himself to talk, peaceably.

Cops are beginning to gather at the edge of the market.

Behind the tent, a curious sight awaits: a hoodlum, his clothing ragged, his chin thick with stubble and his eyes hollow, glazed -- spray-painting a visually clear tag on the back fabric wall.

It glows brilliantly within both mage's sight, of course, pulsing with what is now obviously mind magic to them both. Some sort of esoteric rune, possibly in High Speech; not an obvious one in either of the Lumen or Legionnaire playbooks, however.

He pauses when he sees the two of them; then his eyes flutter wildly and he BOLTS down a nearby alley, as fast as his fairly long legs can take him.


  • > OOC: Ash says, "Ash'll chase after the guy and see if Glas can do anything about that rune..."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Okay, then you're functionally entering combat; give me an initiative roll. :)"

* Ash rolls 1 *-------------------------------
                                2 -  failure.                                 

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  • > OOC: Glas says, "I'll do it too for timing purposes? also Glas'll have a thing to shout at Ash"

* Ash rolls !Chance Die! *-------------------------
                                5 -  failure.                                 

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* Glas rolls 1 *------------------------------
                                3 -  failure.                                 

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  • > OOC: Glas says, "(my mod's 4)"

* Niamh rolls 1 *------------------------------
                                6 -  failure.                                 

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  • > OOC: Ash says, "Yep. That's what it is. So, I rolled a 2 the first time and take that +6 (my Initiative Modifier). Makes 8"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Okay, then the order is 'dude, ash, glas'"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "The rules on races... dex+athletics for a sprint?"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Nope, found it, it's stam."

* Niamh rolls 4 *------------------------------
                    3 5 5 10 3 - (1) for marginal success.                    

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  • > OOC: Ash says, "In the core WoD book, it's under Athletics... Yep!"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "If you're chasing, Ash, that's what you roll!"

As soon as the ragged guy bolts, Ash throws down her stachel at Glas's feet! She shakes Glas by the shoulders and urgently points to the runic grafitti. Then she takes off down the alley to chase the culprit!


* Ash rolls Stamina + Athletics *----------------------
                   3 6 6 9 10 3 - (2) for marginal success.                   

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"At least get something of his!" Glas calls as the satchel is thrown down, and she's shaken--the grafitti catches her attention in any case, however. It must be the source of what's going on, and the riot that's about to start...

She slips a notebook out of her jacket pocket and copies down the rune as exactly as she can, before taking a breath and setting to try to /un/-do it. This.. will take some complex work.

  • > OOC: Glas says, "First--copying down the rune for later work"
  • > OOC: Glas says, "If I can also cast this round, Dispel Magic"
  • > OOC: Glas says, "if nnnot, wait 'til next"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Okay, dex+crafts to do it fast; and no, you've gotta choose"
  • > OOC: Glas says, "Drawing first"

* Glas rolls Dexterity Crafts *-----------------------
                           2 3 3 4 5 6 -  failure.                            

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As Glas copies down the rune, she can't help but hear the violence on the other side of the tent intensifying: children crying, the sound of flesh on flesh, a bottle breaking... and the distinctive tromp of the Boots Of Authority. If they reach their destination before this is undone, things could get much uglier, much faster.

Ash, meanwhile, is led on a less-than-merry chase down an alley full of garbage. The boy initially widens his lead, but just as quickly, a burst of her own speed has them back to the same distance they were at before, if not a little closer. She can hear the frantic panting of his breath, the soft sound of hysterical sobs gulping in the back of his throat.


* Niamh rolls 7 *------------------------------
                  1 1 5 6 7 7 8 - (1) for marginal success.                   

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* Ash rolls Stamina + Athletics *----------------------
                       7 7 8 8 10 9 - (4) for success.                        

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  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Okay, you've caught up to him."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Next round you can roll to grab him."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Or do whatever else you're doing."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "What'll it be, Glas, dispel the rune or try to trace it again?"
  • > OOC: Glas says, "This time, goin' for a dispel, the rune might stick around after but it needs taking care of now"

* Glas rolls Intelligence Persuasion Prime +3 *--------------
              3 4 4 5 5 5 6 7 7 8 - (1) for marginal success.                

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  • > OOC: Niamh says, "It resists your attempt. :("

Glas sets aside the paper, with whatever she'd managed, and instead gets to work unravelling what she can of the mind magic before it's too late. ...She finds it slippery, though, and doesn't quite manage.

Caught up to the ne're-do-well, Ash reaches out to grab him, tackle him, whatever!


* Niamh rolls 1 *------------------------------
                                2 -  failure.                                 

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  • > OOC: Niamh says, "That's good, that would have been a Sad Thing"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "(he was basically using pepper spray on you, see p. 140)"

"Oh god," the kid -- he really is just a kid, seen this close up. An /unwashed/ kid; he's positively rank with fear-sweat, to say nothing of the sprint. He's still holding that can of rune-painting whatever it is, and, in a panic, sprays it up and behind himself, right at Ash's face!

The rune, meanwhile, stubbornly resists Glas' attempts to overpower it. It pulses at the intrusion, sending out rather malevolent tendrils all the more fiercely into the tent around it.

A police whistle blows, and the authorities begin breaking up the fight. Those who were waiting in line are somewhat compliant; those who have eaten bacon are starting to resist arrest. This could get very ugly, very quickly, for a lot of people... time is running out!

  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Ash! Rules for grabbing, let's see..."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Strength+Brawl! Makes sense."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "(p. 157, core)"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Oh, his defense is 2."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "So subtract 2 dice, if I'm understanding basic combat rules right."
  • > OOC: Glas says, "Yep! Believe so"

* Ash rolls Strength + Brawl -2 *----------------------
                      4 5 8 - (1) for marginal success.                       

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  • > OOC: Niamh says, "You've got him!"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "You can pose tackling him, grabbing the back of his shirt, whatever you'd like."

* Glas rolls Intelligence Persuasion Prime *----------------
                     2 3 4 6 8 8 10 9 - (4) for success.                      

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  • > OOC: Niamh says, "You wreck it, it is gonnnne, I will pose what happens"

This time, Glas pulls a small mirror out of her purse, her fingers hovering above its surface reflecting the rune, as she makes a rather nasty 'cut' gesture at the end of her spell.

Caught up to the ne're-do-well, Ash reaches out to grab him! She doesn't want to hurt the kid, just find out what the bloody hell his going on. She ducks the cloud of spray he shoots in her direction. She then reaches out gets a hold of the collar of his shirt!

  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Glas, make me a quick... hm"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Okay, call it wits + composure, that's fine"

* Glas rolls Wits Composure *------------------------
                    2 5 5 6 9 - (1) for marginal success.                     

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  • > OOC: Glas says, "..ha ha... ha good thing you let me get that >.>"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Okay, that was to see something."
  • > OOC: Glas says, "oh perfect"

With a minor explosion of magical strength -- not at all visible to the public, and reality doesn't really give a damn, but it's both incredibly invigorating and rather exhausting, a heady feeling -- Glas overpowers the magic in the rune with her own, compelling it to /stop/.

The effects are instantaneous; her power flows through the rune, instantly vaporizing it, as though it never was, then out into the bacon... and further, into the people. She can feel their irrational rage and very rational fear, as the police brandish batons and shrilly blow their pipes. And then, at the least, the rage part drifts away. People become their usual orderly selves in the presence of authority -- exactly what that means is hard to see from behind the tent, but it gets much quieter.

Held by the collar, the kid struggles frantically. His eyes roll, virtually only the whites showing, then suddenly snap into laser focus. "Lemme go!" he howls, shaking the can warningly. "G-get... get away from me! I don't want you to get hurt!"

  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Ash, you're up. He's not trying to break the hold this round, what do you do?"
  • > OOC: Ash says, "I try to get some answers from him. Impromptu interrogation."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Okay, intimidating him?"
  • > OOC: Ash says, "Sure!"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "You can do that through a show of brute force (strength), verbal threats (manipulation) or body language (presence)."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Whichever one you like, pose, then roll that stat + intim!"

"How very kind of you," Ash replies to his warning, feigning sincerity. She gives a forceful yank on his shirt and slams the kid into the alley's wall, then hovers dangerous close to him. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" she demands.



* Ash rolls Strength + Intimidation *--------------------
                    1 2 4 9 9 - (2) for marginal success.                     

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In the very last second of the dark Mind spell's existence, Glas catches a glimpse of something in her mirror. It's a bit hazy and hard to make out, but it's vaguely cylindrical and currently being held. Then the image vanishes.


Glas, meanwhile, picks up the bag and takes off running as quick as possible to evade... the cops. She can think about the strange thing she saw on the way.

The boy starts to shake within Ash's grip; it's as though a force is trying to erupt from within. The seizure hardly seems to be by choice. His eyes unfocus again. He starts to froth.

And Ash's bones start to feel very cold again...


The Moros makes a sour expression as the boy's condition seems to take a turn for the worse and the presence of magic again lingers in the air. She snatches the spray can from his hand less he tries to spray her again. She attempts to hold him still, but not as a show of force. She's carefully holding onto the kid so he doesn't collapse due to his seizure, warily watching hhim.

  • > OOC: Niamh says, "/Oh/, you grab the can."
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "That's important -- roll Resolve+Gnosis. You know you're being magically attacked, you can burn Willpower if you want."
  • > OOC: Ash says, "I will!"

* Ash rolls Resolve + Gnosis +3 *---------------------
                 2 4 5 5 8 10 6 - (2) for marginal success.                  

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  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Actually, I was wrong, it's Composure+Gnosis, but keep it"

* Niamh rolls 4 *------------------------------
                     1 6 9 9 - (2) for marginal success.                      

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  • > OOC: Glas says, "Im going to scrutinize this guy's Aura, as on page... 206? of Mage, since i have both Third Eye and Supernal Vision up, so I can see nature and emotional/mental state"

* Glas rolls Intelligence Occult *---------------------
                         7 7 8 8 9 - (3) for success.                         

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Glas finally catches up, and, inhaling a quick breath, "Made it!" But the guy is seizing up or something, and Ash has the strength part down, so she stays and focuses on what she can see.

As soon as Ash touches the can, she feels an extremely malicious presence touching her mind... one that fills it with fury, urging her to take out her frustration, as quickly as possible, on the nearest target -- that pitiful, destructive boy surely deserves a good beating, right?

In Glas' eyes, the boy is a mess of anger, fear, and a sort of sustained pain most commonly seen in very dark places for very dark purposes. Some sort of spell is flickering across him... very clearly connected, in her Supernal vision, to that spraycan, which seems to be trying to affect Ash, as well...

On the ground, the boy twitches again, then just lays there quietly... for now.


After seizing the spray can, waves of rage crash against Ash. She clenches her fist and considers pummeling the street kid for what he's done. He could have caused a riot! The fantasy flashes through her mind -- flesh and bone, blood and pain, her own strength dominating the kid, pounding him into the street until his skull is a fucking bloody pulp! And just as quickly as the thought occurs to her, a wave of nausea washes over her. A muscle in her jaw twiches and she wrinkles her nose in disgust, turning away from the boy and from Glas, ashamed. She lets the spraycan slip from her grasp and just stands there -- shaking.

"Sod it," she exhaled through clenched teeth. "The spray paint. It's in the can," she pants. "It's in there," she says shakily.


The can. Glas sees it, and feels it, and then Ash's words go so far as to confirm it... right after she seems to stop herself from doing something very violent. Her eyes flit to the can, then, and quickly, she pulls something out of her purse--it's a smaller bag, usually meant to carry a few things around, but it gets emptied quickly enough as, careful not to /touch/ the can with her bare hands, she tries to get it in there. "But why would it be there in the first place...?"

  • > OOC: Glas can make a roll of some kind if desired, or if it doesn't matter anyway time for resistance I guess, ha ha ha
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Unfortunately"
  • > OOC: Niamh says, "While I totally agree with this plan, this is a tier 1 one-shot, so 'carry away for investigation' just isn't going to work, forgive me :("
  • > OOC: Niamh poses
  • > OOC: Ash says, "ka-boom!"
  • > OOC: Glas says, "hee hee okay!"


Glas very wisely goes for the can in a protected way, but it has other plans... it rolls at the slightest touch, catching on a rock that somehow depresses its nozzle.

Clear spray dissapates into the air; it briefly has a sort of vague face, which snarls in rage before disappearing entirely. The can itself starts to fade away, and is discorporated in moments.

The punk kid stirs on the ground. "W-where am I...?" he wonders, rubbing his head.

  • > OOC: Niamh says, "Int+Occult to ID"

* Glas rolls Intelligence Occult *---------------------
                 4 5 5 10 3 10 7 - (2) for marginal success.                  

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* Ash rolls Intelligence + Occult *---------------------
                     3 3 8 9 - (2) for marginal success.                      

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Perhaps a spirit...?

Whatever it was, it's gone now, and the boy remembers nothing. Whether this started from the lands of Twilight or rather more homebrewed, it's gone now, and perilously difficult to trace. There are many things that could stand to gain from a disruption in the Scotch Market, from the negative energy of a riot, from the possession or other mental control of a teenager.

Back in the Scotch Market, business proceeds as usual, as though it never happened. The maple bacon trade is as brisk as ever, and back to eliciting gastronomic delight rather than emotional distress.

Ash warily taps the can with her toe, then gingerly picks it up when she feels it's inert and deposits it in the nearest bin. She helps the street kid to his feet, apologizes and give him enough money to enjoy a meal. She collects her satchel bag and hangs it over her shoulder.

"Welcome to Edinburgh, eh?" she remarks to Glas. "It seems to have its share of artists. You should fit right in," she says with a half-smile.

Glas just tries not to make it much harder for the kid than it needs to be, instead handing over Ash's bag easily enough and then laughing a moment, a dry sort of sound, "Thanks. If we're lucky most of them work at least a little differently, though." A glance back, "Still, I hadn't realized you were here. Did you move out here too, then?"

She nods once in response, still trying to catch her breath. She pats herself down and quickly removes her lighter and a cigarette from the package she fished from her pocket. After sticking the fag between her teeth and lighting it up, she extend the pack of smokes to Glas. "Almost settled in," she told the Warlock after letting out a slow, comforting, nicotine infused breath. "I've a flat -- temporary, I hope. The neighborhood leaves a lot to be desired. I've started a job with a reputable security firm. Prevented a riot. Sandwiches," she shrugs and takes another drag from her cigarette. "You felt the call, too, I presume?"


After all /that/, Glas doesn't bother saying 'no' and instead accepts the pack and pulls out a cigarette of her own before offering it back. The lighter she can handle on her own, at least, and soon that's two smokey breaths out in the air of... whatever alley they ended up in.

"Prevented a riot, that's something. --You could say I felt some kind of call out here, sure. I'm still place-hunting, though I think I'll be solid soon enough. My work's mostly from home, so all I need is a good space." A pause, then, during which time she takes another drag, "The place doesn't seem to be wasting any time proving it's got its own messes going on, though."


As they wander out of the alley and back out to Scotch Market, Ash stops in front of the wall that was being vandalised and looked up at it. It's blank now and that causes her to raise an eyebrow. She folds her arms across her abdomen after inhaling from her cigarette and examines the wall as if she were admiring a painting in some metropolitan art gallery.

"You did that?" She nods toward the blank wall and cancelled spell. "Heavy lifting. Well done, Glas. Well done."

As they stop, Glas looks to the wall, too, and shakes her head. "I tried to get down whatever was put there, but there wasn't enough time. ...Still, thanks, Ash. Took a couple tries," she says, as the last turns into a slight mutter. "Everything quieted down after that, though--seems like it was all anchored to this."


"Seems so," Ash says and finishes her cigarette. She spends a moment thinking about something. "Back to shopping," she idly says. "Are you coming or were you on your way?"

"On my way, I'm afraid," is Glas's response. "I'm going to have to change up my plans a little, I think. Still--enjoy. Hopefully we'll run into each other again soon."


"Be safe," she tells Glas, a standard parting phrase, but it sounds ominous coming from Ash.

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