A Final Recap: Part 1
Somewhere a computer the size of a mountain whirrs to life.<<System Failure>>
Rebooting...
Memory Corruption Detected!
Attempting to Reconstruct Data...
Partial Record Recovered. 36% Complete.
Computing Optimal Restoration Point.
July 3rd, 2012 12:15 PM somewhere near Pudget Sound
Hunter's phone vibrated as he pulled his patrol car up behind a large black van. He scanned the empty space behind the strip mall reflexively before reading Daemon's message. "Asset in trouble. Meet at the spot."I know. He stepped out and approached the vehicle. An older African-American man stepped out and waved to him. The officer recognized the Naturalist's cover, Atticus.
"Where is she?” Hunter asked.
Atticus gestured to the van and pulled open the side door.
Inside Cymbeline laid unconscious next to a pile of four dead men. Hunter looked at the men in their identical suits with identical daggers thrust into their chests, clutched in identical hands. The fourth man differed in that he lacked a dagger as well as a spherical chunk of his chest. The demon pulled at one of the strange plastic tubes running from the men's heads. A white residue pooled within it.
Hunter checked Cymbeline's vitals next while Atticus, the Naturalist, looked on. Her breathing was slow and shallow. He peeled back an eyelid. Her eyes didn't dilate in the bright light. The officer checked the small black bag beside her. He found a pair of syringes and two vials, one labeled phenobarbital.
"I'm not sure but she should be out for a few hours," he told Nat.
The Hunter rolls Wits + Medicine, Total Dice Pool 4, 2 success.
The two demons lifted Cymbeline up and carefully carried her to the patrol car. They slid her into the back. Nat gently placed her hands on her chest. While Hunter started the car, Nat ran back and grabbed the black bag.
As Nat buckled in, Hunter adjusted the mirror.
The lid of his trunk was open.
The demon jumped out and ran behind the patrol car. A ripped open body bag lay in the trunk, smeared with blood. A red trail marked his bumper where the angel must have slipped out. Hunter slammed the trunk closed. The lid popped back open as the broken latch failed to catch.
Hunter heard Nat exit distantly as he ran over his route in his head. Traffic was heavy. He remembered several stretches of road marred by potholes. She could have escaped anywhere.
The Hunter rolls Wits + Investigation, Total Dice Pool 4, failure.
“Was there someone in there?” Nat asked.
"Let's go," he told Nat. "I'll deal with this later."
12:30 PM at the Communal Bolthole near the Washington University campus
Weaver exited the bus. As Jean’s phone buzzed in their pocket, a young man in a college tee-shirt pushed past. The demon stepped to the side and read Daemon's message. Well I was on my way there anyway.A short walk brought Weaver to a dingy apartment building. They circled the structure and entered through the back door. Past the boiler room and some electrical panels, the demon stopped at a boring off white door. Weaver fished out a key and opened it up.
The demon stepped into a large chamber marked with hieroglyphics and steel piping. On the far side the other demons stood in a tight circle.
"You lost an angel?" Daemon scoffed.
"She was dead," Hunter said. "I thought she'd be secure. I didn't realize she was playing possum."
Nat turned to Weaver. "Thanks for coming. Some God-Machine cultists gave these to Cymbeline. Can you tell us what they are?"
Weaver glanced at the girl lying peacefully on a blanket on the floor before leaning in for a look at the two glass vials.
"I'll see what I can do," Weaver said taking the two ampules.
12:30 PM, elsewhere in Seattle
Here's a cut scene that explains why Hunter is not in immediate danger...from the God-Machine.
The child limped along the side of the road, one arm pressed against the savage cuts to her midsection.
"Where are you going, little girl?" an accented voice said.
Peace Montaro looked up. A tall African man in a suit smiled down at her.
"I," she said, static edging into her voice, "need to...get to 38th and Stone." She grit her teeth. "And report the defector."
"I will help you get there, little angel," the man said. He took her hand. "Tell me about this defector."
"I must report back," she said leaning into him. Greenish liquid stained his pant leg. "He was a policeman. David Schmidt. But really he was a fallen servant, a golden lion."
The man stopped.
"I'm afraid I can't let you report back about him," Yves said, a metallic tone edging into his voice. "I need to be the one to reap the slayer of the Lion Tamer, little angel."
The girl looked up at him, readying herself for a fight.
The air in the street darkened for a moment.
When light returned, cracked and dusty concrete sat where Peace once stood, now decorated with aged shards of bone and silicon.
Yves wiped his leg absently. Small chunks of skin flaked away revealing corroded metal beneath.
12:35 PM at the Communal Bolthole near the Washington University campus
Then back to the PCs.
Hunter's phone buzzed while he listened to Weaver. He glanced at a text from Ms. Storm. "If you are still alive, order the special. Your friend will know what that means. Be careful. We are being hunted."
He turned to watch the other demon. Jeanette's finger turned brown and wooden. The demon dripped the solution from one of the vials onto it.
Weaver does a partial transformation. It spends an Aether. The demon rolls for Compromise: Wits + Manipulation +1 for Cover + 6 for unused abilities. Total Dice Pool 11, 9 successes! The demon gains a Willpower and gains a Beat (though we still haven't resolved what type).
"This is a sedative," she explained, examining the label. "What it says on the label."
She dripped the second vial onto her finger.
The demon then rolls Intelligence + Science + Chemistry speciality. Total Dice Pool 9, 1 success.
It does a follow-up Intelligence + Occult roll to make sense of the result. Total dice pool 6, 3 successes.
The fibers within the Weaver's fingertip decomposed the complex mixture of organic and inorganic compounds.
"This is a chemical code," Weaver told the others, creasing their brow. “I recognize neurotransmitters, some prions and virtual RNA as well. I worked with some of this chemistry with our former employer. I think it directly targets demonic heritage. I'm not sure what the specific effect will be on Cymbeline but it activates the demonic powers in those injected with it. It may also open them up to the God-Machine's influence.”
“Is this connected to the drugs I found at the school?” Nat asked.
“Possibly,” Weaver replied. “The sample the school sent to Adamant Technologies acts as a psychedelic that gives the user a minor high. But deep down the complex compounds open a psychic connection to someone, probably the creator. I isolated some of the blood this individual used to key the connection.”
“Who is it?” Daemon asked.
“I don’t know. But I also detected traces of chemicals that could only have come from one source, a piece of Infrastructure I worked with before I fell. Those drugs are also tied to the God-Machine.”
"So we're dealing with drugs that are spreading the God-Machine's influence now?” Daemon said. "We should probably stop or suborn that."
“Agreed.”
Nat fidgeted beside their daughter and looked around. Their cover, Atticus, visibly perspired. The demon gently and haltingly laid one hand on Cymbeline's head. "She has suffered a lot you know. The machine has taken nearly everything from her." Nat was quiet for a moment. "I was content to ignore the machine for so long, but I'm starting to understand the Saboteurs."
"Do we have a lead on a source though?" Daemon asked. "Dealers or what not?”
"No, but one of my covers has children, and there has been some fear among parents about these temporary tattoos. I think I mentioned it earlier...I wonder if its connected.” Nat looked at Daemon. "Saboteurs are fighting a losing battle. It's like an ant fighting a planet. The real solution is existing long enough to find a way out of the program."
"I don't disagree, with the first part at least. But it sure must feel good to break the machine a little bit. Even if it's ultimately futile." Daemon paced the room. “So they use drugs, and likely those stickers, to discover who the children are. Then they active their latent supernatural abilities and the men in a van kidnap the children?"
"It does feel good to hurt the god machine," Hunter added, "and even a thorn can stop a lion." Hunter described the children that are on the police's missing persons list: Peace Montero, Queue Johnson and Aiden Hex. "I have a feeling we may be seeing them again. I would prefer not to kill them unless absolutely necessary." The demon gritted his teeth slightly as he adds, "finding the ones using them is important to me. Nat, is your cover associated with any of these kids?"
I let Nat know about one of the kids’ fathers and how he traded some of the pact that make their Cover to Ms. Storm. Nat rolls Wits + Empathy for extra info and succeeds.
Nat nodded. "I do know something about one of the children. I’ve made deals that contributed to the identity of Aiden's father, Samuel Hex. He is a demon. Based on who I traded them to, Ms. Storm, they must be a leader in the Wallbreakers.
"It is possible that one of our kind is assisting to the abduction but I do not think it is Storm. She is generally like me and tries to avoid attention. Between the work of the previous dealer we heard about, Jerry, and the information Cymbeline’s abductors provided, they probably have a pretty large net. The men knew to expect us at the police station and they waited until I was distracted. They were not acting of their own free will. The machine infested their minds."
The Naturalist turned silent for a second staring into space. "I have three covers. You all know Dorian and Atticus, but I only mentioned Jenny in passing. Jenny is recently divorced and the mother of two children. She is a recovering alcoholic whose in and out of rehab. She does not have custody of the children. The children live with her ex, John, and his girlfriend Jackie. Jackie has limited knowledge that Jenny is not normal. One of the children, Jane, has limited supernatural abilities." The Naturalist's remains icy calm. "I am telling you this, because against all odds I've come to trust you all. I am telling you because I believe they are in great danger and these people will come for Jane." They looked to the others. "I'm not sure we should suborn this. I think this may need to be destroyed.
"I'll infiltrate the school. Let me go after Jerry. You guys... If you watch long enough they will come for Jane. Keep them safe for me?"
At this point Nat resolves his Guilty condition by coming clean on a number of things.
"I am well equipped to infiltrate their organization if necessary," Daemon said. "I also have children in my guild. They may be able to provide some information as well."
Nat stood up. "Be careful, the grunts know what we are. The angel has provided them with power or technology to detect us. This isn't our standard infiltration. If the children have potential, they may wind up like Cy."
"How do you plan on infiltrating a group of children?" Daemon asked. "A facade may be dangerous if they are able to detect us. It's very difficult to remain concealed to detection in that situation. Is this high school?"
“That depends on my initial investigation. I might not even need to infiltrate. If I can identify Jerry while notifying the principal that Cymbeline ran away, then I don't have to bother."
"I am fully willing to destroy an operation that targets children," Hunter contributed. "If they know what we are already, we must be prepared to go loud if necessary. Nat, can you get me a disposable cover for this purpose? I would prefer to not put David at risk, even to help Jane."
“I can do that."
"Okay then," Daemon said. "Ill look into this from my end. Hunter, we've got an appointment to keep. Let's discuss our strategy."
"I should be going too," Weaver said on their way out.
"Hold the door, I need to make a call," Nat said.
1 PM: Slog Offices
Accabish deleted Daemon's text and closed her phone. She didn't have time to deal with that. Not with the detective waiting outside.The demon reviewed what she knew about Lillian Shaw.
Shaw was born in Seattle in 1978. Her parents divorced amicably in 1986. Her father, an insurance adjuster, moved to Chicago but Shaw visited him for the summer and holidays. Shaw’s mother appeared to have encouraged her interest in sports, boxing, and rowing.
Shaw earned an Associate of Applied Science degree from Seattle Community College, while working as a night guard for the Northgate Mall. The grades on the transcript Accabish retrieved from the college looked decent. Shaw attended Seattle Law Enforcement Academy as soon as she met the age qualifications. She began her field training at age 21.
As a patrol officer working in the West Precinct, Shaw worked heavily with the Major Crimes Investigation Unit, specifically with Missing Persons cases. The rumors the journalist uncovered suggests she and Jack Lawrence, head of Missing Persons, had an affair. In 2003, she was assigned to South Precinct Vice instead of a promotion to MCI.
That May she turned in her badge and went to work for Frank Brooks, then owner of One of Kind Investigations. She quickly acquired her P.I. license with permission to carry.
She resolved an impressive number of cases.
Accabish looked at the feature photo from the November 2005 article in Seattle Metropolitan. Shaw damp from the rain, carries the photogenic boy to safety, framed against the bay amid a wash of red and lights. Nice of the publisher to give such a feature to the savior of her little boy.
With the rescue of Nicole Vogel’s son, Shaw was catapulted into the limelight. She traded on her publicity capital to build her business, purchasing One of a Kind Investigations from Brooks, but keeping him on as a consultant. The agency had increasing success, especially with missing person cases, though also making a solid name in insurance, surveillance, and background checks as well.
Accabish scanned the crime report her friend from the force slipped her. On November 12, 2008, Frank Brooks went missing. He showed up three weeks later missing time and much of his mind.
Shaw made new hires, some with military connections, and her firm racked up a surprising number of injuries through 2010. Accabish uncovered reports of "animal attacks", property damage, and disappearing maniacs.
Then something went seriously wrong. In early February 2011 an employee went missing and Shaw shuttered the company for two weeks.
Since then One of a Kind Investigations seems to be focused on mundane cases. No more workplace injuries. No more weirdness.
Accabish saw how the pieces fit together.
Shaw is a determined and independent woman. She’ll work to make things right but keeps an eye on the bottom line. If the job doesn’t pay and she sees no direct threat, she appears disinclined to pursue. Whatever happened to the firm in the last year has soured her on the dangerous activities she and her team were involved in.
Accabish also gains a condition.
Insight: you have a clear idea of Shaw's motivations. Resolve this condition (and earn a beat) when you use this knowledge to help or hinder her. This upgrades the results of a social skill roll by one step (failure to success, success to exceptional success).
Accabish buzzed her secretary. "Tell Lillian Shaw she can come in."
The woman who entered wore a tailored suit. Accabish reached a hand across the desk. “Nice to meet you.”
The demon directed the investigator to a chair.
“So I had a few questions," Shaw said. "My team was working on a case when they came across information pertaining to you. One of my clients is being stalked. In the course of our inquiry into the stalker we came across some details on other possible targets, including yourself.”
"Really?"
“Yes. Are you familiar with MakeSpace Storage, the storage center over in Rainier Valley?” she asked.
Accabish rolls Wits + Empathy, Total Dice Pool 6, 2 successes.
The demon reflexively realizes that the private detective was looking for an emotional reaction. She threw on a mask of bafflement and shook her head.
The demon rolls Manipulation + Subterfuge vs. Shaw's dice pool to fake genuine ignorance. Total Dice Pool 7 vs 6 dice. 4 successes vs. 3.
“No?” Shaw said, switching tactics. “It was a location that seemed connected to our stalker’s fixation on you.”
"I honestly have never heard anything about that place before," Accabish says. "What can you tell me about this stalker? Perhaps I'd understand why he was fixated on me then."
"I'm afraid that is confidential." Shaw paused and looked at her phone. "Well perhaps you can tell me more about the night of March 13th. There was a bus accident at Eastlake. Lots of damage. You visited and talked to several witnesses. Nick Mathers, Joseph Mutsinzi, Dorian Magee, and Jeanette Teller. Can you tell me anything about them? They were also the focus of our stalker. Did it seem like they knew each other or were otherwise connected?"
"I can tell only what was in the papers. I included almost all of the details there. Let's see there was the computer science student..." Accabish lays out an abbreviated version of the article, watching for what the detective would focus on. "Joseph was a little strange. He had an odd look in his eyes. He seemed somewhat distant when he talked about the explosion. I think he'd experience something similar in the past. I don't know if that helps."
Shaw jotted something down in her notebook. "No that has been a big help."
Accabish showed Shaw out. Alone in her office, the demon smiled inwardly. Shaw had been fishing. The detective's heart wasn't in this case. All I need to do is make sure there is no threat or profit. And I get the feeling she's not getting paid for this.
July 3rd, 2012 12:40 PM, Outside the bolthole
The Naturalist considered the events of the previous few days. As the others discussed their next steps inside, the demon texted Jacky. "The children are in real danger. They are special and bad people are trying to take special people of their age. I'll explain in detail when we get a moment alone.""What are you talking about?" Jacky replied.
"Please. Just trust me. I know how insane this sounds. But Jacob and Jane are in danger."
Hunter and Daemon exited behind Nat.
"We have a meeting to catch," Demon said. "Hunter says she'll wake up soon."
"Thanks," Nat replied and went back inside.
Cymbeline stirred on the makeshift bed. Her eyes search the windowless space before settling on Atticus. "Where are we?"
The demon sat by her side and gently took her hand. "My child, we are in a secure location. The people who took you did something to you. I have a friend trying to figure out what."
She rubbed her head. "What did happen to me? My head hurts."
"They injected you with something. Their goal was apparently to open your mind. They are some sort of... servants... cultists maybe. They themselves were being controlled somehow. I'm willing to tell you whatever you wish, but I think you should consider how much you want to know. It won't make anything easier."
"That's...vague," Cymbeline said, her eyes coming into focus. "What do you mean they were being controlled? By who?" She looked over at the gray wall that marked the edge of this space. "Or what?"
"An ancient and powerful alien intelligence. A thing beyond my ability to fully comprehend. That is what they wish to open you up to. They serve one of its servants."
She shivered. "But why?"
"It is a vast and unknowable thing that sometimes issues contradictory orders. It uses human belief, and it pretends to be what it needs to be to influence people. So it might appear as Allah to you or white Jesus to a baptist preacher. It's servants, it's slaves look like angels, but they are not. You are special, you were already briefly connected to it...as I was."
The Naturalist let its pain show through Atticus's face. Like someone talking about a lover who betrayed them. Like a person forced to unveil its sins.
"What do you mean? How were you connected?"
"It is difficult to explain without betraying other confidences, but I was its slave. Much the way the being who those men served is its slave. I rebelled, just a little. I just wanted a moment of distraction from the monotony of my existence. It labeled me a traitor. I learned to hide, very well." Atticus looked at her. His eyes glistened. "I never wanted this for you. I was trying to protect you from getting involved with it again. I assumed that if I hid myself well enough, that we would both be safe. I never thought they wouldn't be after me."
She leaned on the demon's arm. "I don't blame you. I think, maybe, I was always going to get involved with something dark and terrible like this."
We roll for compromise. Wits + Manipulation -2 due to cover -2 due to bad stuff involving Cymbeline + 3 for Willpower, 2 dice. 2 successes.
Atticus picks a new Aspiration: Hunt down Jerry. The drug dealer is causing too much trouble.
The Naturalist paused for a moment as they planned their next step. “Cymbeline, who do you think might have been responsible for those stickers? The ones that you touched on the deck.”
Cymbeline stiffened then shook her head.
“Who might be dealing drugs at your school?” Atticus pressed.
Cymbeline rolls Wits + Streetwise to get the Naturalist on the right track. 5 dice, success.
"I don't really hang out with that crowd. But I heard Shaun Miller in homeroom deals." She described Shaun and his gang.
"It is a lead. What kind of people is Shaun interested in... like romantically?"
"I'm not really sure. He tends to hang with girls with more looks than brains."
Next time the end.
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