Curiousity killed some cats (IMPACT)

[Zodiac]

"Curious..."

The single word floated in her thoughts as she studied the last card she had pulled to complete the spread. It had been the third time in the last six days her personal spreads have virtually read the same. Normally she did not repeat them so close together, but the negative nature of the first had encouraged her to try again and, when the second was equally as disturbing she decided to try again.

The Tower. Usually a card of chaos in her experiences. If the cards were a warning, the Tower's warning was most direct and blunt in its appearance. Fire and lightening striking an apparently secure fortress and cracking it. Lord and lady falling to their doom as they burned while the crown representing power and authority is blasted away. Nothing lasted forever, of course, but the Tower suggested the end would come swiftly from a direction those within would have no way to stop.

For a final outcome card, it was a major downer. and it had shown it's face for all three layouts in the same spot. The odds against such a thing were massive.

After jotting down the cards she had drawn this time, she carefully restacked them and then relaxed in her pose as she continued to levitate as she considered the evidence her more esoteric ways had suggested so far. The question had been basically simplistic in itself. How safe are the vampires of this town from discovery?

What she had gathered was something was amiss. Apparently someone knew more than they should. This was inevitable, of course. It was bound to happen, but for discovery to come to such a savage conclusion so quickly suggested the knowledge was not being used properly. Perhaps stolen and handed to ones who were not meant to see it. The how this would come about was still somewhat vague. As to who would know anything, her own best guess were the teams investigating the Zone and the sub group near the mausoleums in Cherrydale. That was all government funded dealings, so anything they had learned would be sent to some think thank to be digested, then processed by committee and then finally voted upon before anything was done and none of that matched the outcomes she kept getting. Either that, or some remnants of the rogue elements that had reared their heads before had taken a bit of covert liberty with information they already knew, but were there even enough of them left to manage such a thing?

It only took one with the right kind of proof tucked under their arm.

"Someone talked, or got careless?" her thoughts muttered. That made more sense to her. Whatever proof they had found perhaps found another route than its original destination. Bribery? Theft? The how did not matter now. Something very big was going to come smashing down on all of them unless the situation was stopped quickly.

But who or what? Who or what ever it was, it was in a hurry. Perhaps on the run?

It was times like this the gypsy wished she kept herself in good standings with others and factions who kept their ears to the ground in the outside world. Her self imposed exile from such things worked just as much for as against her at times. What could she tell anyone? "Excuse me, but do we know if those science types actually found something out and then let the information fall into the wrong hands?"

When said like that, she imagined she sounded as crazy as the majority thought she was.

Still holding a pose of absolute tranquility, she opened her mind and reached out to the few she considered close and asked a simple question. There was no sense in doing anything till she discovered if something was actually going on to be concerned with.

"Hi there, so can any of you tell me if anything really dangerous to us is going on right now? Because I am really picking up on some doom and gloom vibes considering us fanged types."

[Mordechai]

The night was more than half over over when Mordechai paused in his endeavor. The target sitting down the lane from him was a laser measured two hundred twenty eight point six meters away. The hole in the silhouette, where the ten ring once was, and where the heart of a humanoid would be measures fifty eight millimeters. The hole where the second ten ring had been, corresponding with the brains location, was fifty two millimeters. Across the target were scatter more fifty to sixty millimeter holes. One was only forty three mm, none had any paper in them. Once the two ten rings had been eradicated, the Sangue killer had randomly fired one shot into an unused portion of the target, then grouped all of his shots on that point of impact, until nothing was left to show a bullet strike. Repeating this action over and over had made a massive, calculated, swiss cheese of the silhouette. Mordechai was packing his newest acquisition into its drag bag. If the wind had not been so gusty, he was sure the .408 CheyTac M300 Intervention could have done much better than only holding one minute of angle groupings. Although he was not sure if it was the wind, or him.

The killer had found it hard to concentrate, even before riding out the recoil from two hundred rounds on the big gun. Every night, just before he let himself drift into the daysleep of dawn, he would use his technokinesis to slip on to the webs through an unsecured, anonymous entry node. From there, he would use all the skills he had learned over the last three years to slip in and out of the secure databases of the media and police of Harper Rock City. He often found references to unexplainable incidents. Well unexplainable for the average human. When he did, he would subtly alter or corrupt parts of the files making them unusable to the next who would open them. Recently he had been having a go at some of the less secure of the military networks that were being accessed by the local military units. These he didnt mess with, as they had redundant and double redundant security and backups. He did not have the time to spend tracing each copy and making repetitive changes. These he just read. he had always assumed that anyone that wasnt with him, was against him, and it was obvious, that the military was not 'with him' anymore. Knowing what they knew was just another aspect of situational awareness that his time in uniform had drilled into him. "Know your enemy."

The problem that was really getting to him was increasingly, things that he read on secure military databases, was showing up on media databases. At first it was little things, spread out across many outlets, but as the information became more focused, it had settled down till almost all of it was found on the internal servers of the 'City Herald' Someone in the Herald, was getting info from someone in the Cherrydale encampment.

Finished loading all his equipment back into his range bags and cases, He gave the ground around him one last sweep to be sure he had policed all of his used brass. Then loaded everything into the back of the black eXtreme Prejudice van, and headed into the city. There were still a few things to button up at midknight armaments, and he had to place an order for five more of the CheyTac M300's. They would be very useful to his teams as they went about their jobs of exterminating 'pests'. At one hundred forty two dollars per box of twenty from the factory, he has better get two sets of reloading dies as well, or his teams practice sessions would take a large cut of the company's profits.

Van parked and in his office beginning the email for the order, he suddenly paused as a familiar voice echoed in his head.

"Hi there, so can any of you tell me if anything really dangerous to us is going on right now? Because I am really picking up on some doom and gloom vibes considering us fanged types."

Zodiac. Zodiac wondering the same things he was. Mordechai knew that his sireling was an accomplished hacker also, but. But she learned most of her information from her cards. Mordechai knew from personal experience how good her cards were, both with telling the past and predicting the future. Zo was emotional, sometime she reminded him of his kennedy, but she was not an alarmist. She did not run, crying the sky was falling if an acorn fell. If she was reaching out, it was obvious the Cards had spoken, and spoken clearly.

Slowly he spun his chair eyes closed, evaluating and reevaluating what he had seen, what he had read, and how it connected to Zodiac’s announcement that the cards had dictated a coming catastrophe for vampirekind. Somehow information was getting out of the mausoleum task force, and getting to the media. Obviously the cards had decided if this leak was not plugged, it would not fare well for the citizens of the night. Some how Mordechai didn't think a deck of cards and .408 diameter, 419 grain piece of turned copper nickel alloy was going to fix this problem. They were going to need help and advice from others, preferably others with knowledge and experience with making problems disappear. He would offer the expertise of eXtreme prejudice, but this job needed the resources of a much bigger operation. An operation like BlackBox. Lifting his phone from its desk cradle, Mordechai started to dial the number, he knew it by memory. Pausing before hitting send, he cleared the number, this was too sensitive. It was time to skip a few levels of middle management. A grim smile graced his normally stoic face as he clicked send, then listened quietly to the ringing of the phone.

“Greetings Mr Groom, I believe we have a problem.” The laconic killer began to quickly and succinctly explain the situation as he saw it, including the heads up from Zodiac, and the information he had personally gleaned from his hacking. Finishing up, he gave one query, “Your opinion?”

[Alexandrea]

The sound of splashing water was pleasant in the background as Alexandrea relaxed on the lawn inside the Mall playing with Penny and Orin. The shark still thought the cat was a snack but the cat was too smart to get anywhere near that particular pool. With a little chuckle, Alex tossed treats to her two buddies. Fish for the one with fur and for the one win fins, this time. Body parts were too risky this early in the evening.

Standing up, the blonde wiped her hands off on a handkerchief and then brushed some dead grass off her skirts. Tiny bells jingled unseen as the fabric moved and the Allurist rose up on her tip toes and stretched, spinning as she did so to make the layers of cloth flare out and catch the sparkle off of the holiday lights that had been cleverly woven around the park area's plants and the rock climbing wall. The glass from the ceiling above that allowed customers on the second floor to gawk at those below helping the water underneath it to reflect around the cheery mood lighting.

It was a pleasant evening, all was quiet and all seemed to be at peace in Harper Rock for the moment. That alone should have been a glaring alarm sounding off in Alex's head.

But instead she was debating going for a swim. No one else seemed to be around, she had undies on for a change and the blouse she was wearing was a light enough cotton that it should dry quickly enough.

Alexandrea had just untied the top of the two skirts that mimicked the style of a certain Gypsy when the Muse herself spoke into Alex's thoughts, stopping the Allurist's hands right before the garment was dropped.

"Hi there, so can any of you tell me if anything really dangerous to us is going on right now? Because I am really picking up on some doom and gloom vibes considering us fanged types."

Alex blinked and rather than retie her skirt she gathered up her things and whistled for her cat. The two hurried towards the exit, Orin getting the last of the fish along the way. (But not without some very loud complaints from Penny)

The first thing the blonde had thought of was to ask the Mystic if she had done a reading yet. Alex chuckled. Well duh. It was Zodiac. Of course she had. Probably several before calling out like she had. The wording of the message Alex had heard in her mind seemed to be a 'mass message', as if Zoey had just said the same thing a few times in a hurry. That alone was a reason to take the message seriously. If the Gypsy hadn't had time to speak more personally and crack a few bad jokes? Then Zodiac must be concerned. And that made Alexandrea concerned.

Back in her own office, both skirts and flimsy blouse were discarded and Alex's 'working clothes' were quickly pulled on. Head to toe in black, with more hidden weapons that a Marvel superhero, Alex grabbed a bag and tried to guess what might come in handy for a cross between Mary Poppins and Parker from Leverage.

*I haven't heard anything but I trust those purple guts of yours as much as my own. Tell me where to find you and I'll head your way. You can NOT go all Lucy without your faithful Ethel as back up.* At last she sent back to her friend, grabbing a few small explosives to take along with a hopeful grin.

[Wendigo]

“Greetings Mr Groom, I believe we have a problem.” The laconic killer began to quickly and succinctly explain the situation as he saw it, including the heads up from Zodiac, and the information he had personally gleaned from his hacking.

Wendigo listened quietly as Mordechai described his recent findings. Vincent and Dee had both been reporting rumors from the local scenes: military still at the Mausoleum... new Crime Families springing up... no survivors in the Quarantine Zone. He turned and looked through the window of his office over the river: spotlights had been turned on in the QZ towers. Anyone with eyes and a perch could see the wandering silhouettes of the shuffling corpses there. The table was more precariously slanted than ever, and the pieces were beginning to slide towards them.

His features, however, remained serene. He knew this despite not having a reflection in the window: panic had long left him, but lately his thoughts had become so muted that it was difficult to judge when action was required.

Finishing up, he gave one query, “Your opinion?”

He paused, looking to the Wraith in the corner for direction. The spirit seemed to nod. "Yes," he replied finally. "Need to act. Will start digging. Call you back before sunrise." He waited for acknowledgement and then clicked the phone off.

Information -- even vague -- was valuable, but Wendigo was not a seer, diplomat, or hacker... he was a predator by nature. Step one was always the same: know what your prey needs.

A threat was dealing in information was probably some variation of human, rather than some primal creature like a Fae. Therefore, he reasoned, this would be a creature with simple, financial means. Find the means... find the threat. A threat will need to trade for means and information: if they already had both (and were competent) the vampire secret would have already been revealed. That the Community was still safe meant that the threat -- if it even existed -- was still moving their pieces. It was a small consolation.

Groom Industries had numerous holdings, subsidiaries, and investments: most of which were connected and publicly traded. He had become accustomed to doing hours of market research and manipulating that clout to make considerable sums of money. All it took was an awareness for patterns coupled with vampire intellect: it was something he couldn't imagine having done as a human.

Watching how money moved in Harper Rock was a lot like watching grass grow: there were seldom surprises... just uniform growth and depreciation in specific areas. Mostly just the rich getting richer. What he had to do tonight is search the patterns for an anomaly... some strange movement of money. Determine the source... reach out and read their memories... repeat. Better than that, such "legitimate" inquiries could actually spook the prey into making a mistake.

Closing his eyes, he connected to the proverbial cyclone of numbers and data all around him. Moving a large sum of personal funds to a more conspicuous series of accounts in various subsidiaries and investments, he began the process of requesting information in the guise of being a prospective investor. It was an obvious ploy... deliberately obvious. It would be obvious to anyone with their ear to the ground that he was looking for something. He reasoned that he couldn't sneak up on unknown prey -- if it even existed. Stalking the brush wasn't an option here, so he opted to beat the bushes and chase whatever started running.

It was, perhaps, as far from subtlety as one could go; although no one had ever accused Wendigo of subtlety.

[Macaria]

To say that Macaria was a social creature would be a stretch. More of a fantasy, to be entirely fair. Given her proclivities and what made up her body of work (bodies, rather wonderfully), she found that staying out of the public eye was generally for the best. She had read Frankenstein. She knew what happened to the visionary scientist with a penchant for sewing parts of corpses to other parts of corpses and had no desire to be confronted with an angry mob. She wasn’t entirely sure what a pitchfork would do to her, being undead as she was, but she had a pretty solid idea that it would ruin whatever she was wearing at the time.

So, essentially, she kept herself mostly to her herself with the notable exception of Lia, a couple of strays she had taken in and her faithful zombies.

She did not need much more than this anyway, she felt. From the private space that her farm afforded her she was more than able to continue with her research and keep a watchful eye over the businesses she ran which paid for her research. It had a pleasing symmetry to it to her mind. Until something went wrong, of course.

In this particular example of things going wrong, a scout she had sent to the mausoleum to see if they could scrounge up any particularly interesting artifacts had failed to return. As her zombies were both entirely bound to her will and completely devoid of anything approaching imagination, she hardly thought that this boded well for her.

She had known for some time that the military had taken a keen interest in both the mausoleum and its catacombs - it was hard to miss, really. The blockades, the barbed wire. The shouting, good lord the shouting. This was why both she and her pets had always used the entrance hidden in the sewers, beneath the feet of the surrounding forces. Until this point, that had been entirely safe and had gone undetected. Clearly something had changed.

With a resigned sigh she selected a coat from the pegs by the door and threw it over her shoulders. She would feel no benefit from it, of course, but it would cause notice if she was seen wandering the streets at this time of night, with the temperatures being what they are, in one of her customary floaty chiffon dresses. At least her gloves would go unnoticed, one of the many reasons she approved of winter as a concept.

She headed towards the first blockade with purpose, pausing only to make sure her plants were continuing to grow as well as they had been to date. It was a walk she knew well, having spent a considerable amount of time in the deeper crypts within the catacombs searching for her next relic of a time now long past. Sure enough the various checkpoints were still there, as were the barbed wire and the shouty men in uniform. No change there, then.

Surprised was the last thing she felt at this point. After all, there was a reason she had not even considered trying to walk one of her pets in through the front door. Reliant on them she might very well be, but she was hardly insane. She turned on her heel and made her way back towards her farm, breaking from that path to reconnoiter the entrance from the sewers for the sake of thoroughness.

Given her fastidious nature, and general distaste for rather large men covered in tattoos charging at her whilst screaming incoherently, it will hardly come as a surprise to find that she avoided the sewers unless she absolutely had to venture into the Stygian depths. Which would explain the handful of wrong turns she took and why she spent more than her fair share of time backtracking before she found the entrance itself.

If one ignored the hunters and feral paladins that haunted the tunnels, the back door to the catacombs was as unguarded as it had ever been. Which was more frustrating than relieving, given that it in no way explained the tardiness of her little helper. With her head canted to the left she gave a little shrug before making her way home, allowing herself to feel safe in the assumption that, as bad pennies so often do, her zombie would turn up at some point.

Upon her return, she hung her coat back up and immediately moved over to her computer. A handful of keystrokes later and she was, as was her habit, keeping track of the currents in the seas of business within the city. Someone, it would seem, was making waves, to continue the metaphor. Upon closer inspection she realised that she knew the name from somewhere, though exactly where from escaped her for the moment.

She stood from her desk, wandering in the kitchen to begin the process of brewing a pot of tea. She was unable to imbibe herself, of course, but she found the process relaxing and rather enjoyed the fragrance. It was also, in her experience, helpful when it came to problem solving.

Sure enough, just as she was pouring the first cup she realised why she recognised the name. It was something Lia had said recently about her own employment while they had been getting Sheol ready for opening. Lia worked for the man. Her tea forgotten, she left the cup steaming on the kitchen counter and walked quickly back to her computer. She had an email to type.

Dear Sir,
I could not help but notice that you are currently engaged in what can best be described, to my mind, as rather speculative investments. Given this, I feel it would be remiss of me if I were not to toss my own name into the hat and see if you would be interested in becoming an investor in my own little ventures.

If you need a reference, we have a mutual acquaintance in Lia, who I believe works for you in some capacity and I have every reason to believe that she would be able to vouch for me if pressed.

She paused, her fingers falling silent as she wondered if he might know anything about the situation with her zombie. She would need to be careful in how she worded her question, though, of course. Especially if it might turn out she would be on the hook for something as yet unspecified.

On a more random note, and one that almost approaches gossip, would you happen to know anything about what is happening at the Mausoleum in Cherrydale, by any chance? I get the distinct impression that security has been tightened for some reason, over and above the levels it was already occupying. Given my proximity to the building, this gives me some cause for concern, not to mention what it might portend for those of us of a more nocturnal nature in general, given the recent investigation into the quarantine zone.

Hoping this finds you in good health.

Yours,
Macaria.

Having given it a quick once over to check for spelling errors, she nodded in mild satisfaction and clicked send.

[Zodiac]

She held her pose and idly shuffled the cards. A small smile broke the corner of her lips when she heard Alex reply, but she did not answer. She was the only one who had given any clue her words fell on receptive minds so far and she doubted the two of them alone could accomplish much. No, this would be a far larger and more complex game to play out. Others would be needed with skills that could reach out in different ways than her own. The more she pondered this, the more another event began to gnaw at her thoughts that took place at the mausoleum entrance earlier this year. Absently her fingers flipped a card onto the table top she levitated at.

"Eight of Wands. A swift response comes to match what is in play," she whispered in her mind as she continued to shuffle. Another card dropped after a few moments.

"Three of Cups. Stalwart allies begin to gather. United in a cause though they may not know each other or perhaps disagree at times. A common goal overshadows such things now."

More cards followed. Each slipping from her fingers as if some unseen signal motivated her to drop them one by one as she shuffled.

The Knight of Swords, Queen of Wands, The King and the Page of Pentacles fell onto the table at intervals in her shuffling.

"The allies appear now. Each bringing something unique to the situation." she sighed. The Wand Queen was no surprise since Alex had spoken to her thoughts, and apparently Mordie was involved as well possibly. The other two she did not know but they were somewhat alike. Cool, no cold. No emotions. Simply machines once set into motion. Perhaps such people would be needed. Unfettered by emotions. If things played out where the problem was solved and the mystery unveiled, a decisive response or action would be required. An answer perhaps people like Alexandrea may not approve of. Truth be told, the mystic was not a violent sort herself and did do whatever she could from harming the living as much as possible.

But if the matter came to a choice between a mortal's life vs her friends and loved ones?

A card slipped from her fingers, landing beside the others.

The Ten of Swords. Such a thing would sadden her deeply, but she would do nothing to stop it if that was the only answer that would work.

The gypsy floated still. Her hands continuing to shuffle the deck as she stared at nothing.

[Mordechai]

Turning from his desk the killer considered Wendigo's parting shot. It was indeed time for action. Mordechai would go deeper into the systems and pay more attention, it was no longer an idle pastime, it seemed that now it may be a matter of survival. For himself he did not care, but to protect his kennedy, well, very little would be able to physically stand in his way. He needed a clear head before he began, and he knew just how to do it. Walking the short distance from the shop, the killer glanced around before lifting the grate, and slipping into the sewers.

Moving quietly through the city's underground he found very few of his objectives, it seemed they had learned not to congregate in large parties anymore, but never the less the killer did find prey. He had once thought that these, these strange beings, these tattooed zealots that raced through the sewers devoid of clothing would be the downfall of his kind. To date they were but a minor annoyance, a trifling to toy with. Regardless, they were good for at least one thing, training. Training, repetition, turning thoughtful action into instinct, these were the things that brought Mordechai to his Zen. He had only found three, but it had been enough to clear his mind, to set him at peace, to prepare him. Finding a clean corner, clean being a relative term, this was the sewers after all, the massive male settled his bulk, straightened his duster, and set his weapons in ready positions, close at hand.

Tipping his Stetson forward he rested his shaggy head against the wall as his eyes closed. First things first. Steps had been taken, but now he need to acknowledge the one who had reinforced his thoughts that something strange was happening. Reaching out to his sireling,, he subtly let her know that he was about to 'speak' to her. If any had been nearby they might have noticed a faint humming noise, and if they had gotten even closer might have recognized the opening bars of an ancient Santana anthem. "Madam Zo, I to have noticed anomalies. The anomalies that I have noticed in the digital world seem to match up with the questions you have raised from your sorties into the spiritual world." Mordechai paused as he considered his next words. The killer was normally quite laconic, this stemming from his consideration of his words for suitability, as for any other cause. "I have enlisted the aid of Mr. Wendell Groom, CEO of Groom Enterprises. He brings some unique capabilities to the table, including a much greater net of contacts and resources." Another pause as he considered the many paths that laid before him. "I will keep you advised of any developments from this end. I would appreciate reciprocity, and any warnings you might hear in your manipulations of the esoteric.

Message sent his eyes opened long enough to ensure he was still alone, before the killers mind reached out once more in search of an unsecured, anonymous access node. Slipping unobtrusively into the Webz, he considered his options. There were to ways to follow any trail. You either started at the beginning, and followed it to its conclusion, or you started where you crossed it, and followed the backtrail to ascertain from whence it started. It would seem that the source of this information needed to be shut down, as well as the silencing of the reporter. Backtrail it was.

Mordechai first accessed the public pages of the 'City Herald' Scrolling though them sifting the news of the city. Interestingly enough there was no mention of the mausoleum, nor any articles whatsoever written by the reporter in question. A few hacked passwords later he was deeper inside the site. Scrolling now through internal memos and emails, it seemed that no recent mention was made of the topics he sought, nor were any of these update to pages penned by the one he sought. A few more flexes of his mental powers brought him into the inbox of the reporter. It had been over a week since any of the numerous emails filling their inbox had been opened or read. Interesting. The killer wondered if the humans absence was voluntary, or enforced.

Eventually he uncovered some of the questionable anonymous mails and set about tracking them to their sender. numerous repeaters and anonymizers had been used in sequential formation. This would be time consuming, and time was a factor he didn't have an abundance of. Setting in motion scripts of his own design built using specialized source codes he had purloined in high security buildings, and found in his other hacking endeavors. These scripts would crawl like spiders across the threads of the internet, and trace the mails to their source unsupervised. For now he would forward the knowledge he had garnered about the seeming disappearance, and lack of communications to Wendigo. The reserved leader of Groom enterprises had the wherewithal to deal with the information and confirmation of the same, much easier than the lone killer could.

Rising from his seated position Mordechai set his gear to rights, and started through the sewers once more, headed in the direction of Swansdale. He would need some of the more specialized equipment hidden with in his apartment to continue this newest mission. A packet containing all of the information he had just learned, accompanied by a few objective observations was compiled into an email, and fired off to the business magnet that reigned In the top floors of Groom Towers.

[Alexandrea]

Waiting was making her antsy, she had a wild imagination and it was starting to do a trip on her, making the Allurist worry about dozens of impossible things as she went through all the possibilities in her head of what kind of 'trouble' might be coming. She knew her records were clean, thanks to Harry. She wondered if he might have a clue about anything going on. Time for a chat with the town's top cop.

There weren't a lot of desk phones around anymore but Alexandrea Quartermaine kept one in her office. She was ready to move whenever the Mystic sent word but waiting wasn't something the blonde was very good at. She had been working on it but keeping busy was the key to staying out of trouble. And if there was trouble heading to town, it was best for her to stay out of finding anymore. She sent to thee man first, to be sure he was alone.

*Stand up and take a look around your office for me, Harry*

The old cop sighed. It had been months that he had 'worked' for Blondie and she still wouldn't completely trust him if he said the sky was blue. It was annoying as hell, he didn't think he could get away with fooling the vampire even if he had the chance to try. Deep down, he didn't really want to. Life had never been so interesting and his investments were coming along nicely.
The Commissioner of police pushed his chair away from his desk and took a stroll around the room, even opening closets and the door to the reception area to wave at Gladys, his secretary. After getting back to his seat, he started to pull open drawers next. Peering inside each one until the phone rang.

"Cute." Was all Alex said at first although she was chuckling. "Okay so we know you're alone is there anything else I should know or can you speak freely? You know your line is still secure?"

Harry grumbled. "Not even a 'Howdy Do', Blondie? Just right to the point? Yeah, yeah... the line is good. Have it checked twice a day just like you say. And the office too. You can see what I see so why you bothering to ask?"

The blonde sighed before she answered him; "I have no interest in seeing everything you see ALL the time Harry. I do wish you would take my interests more seriously."

Alex was uptight about something, the human finally caught on. The usual joking wasn't going both ways. "Sorry, Doll-face. What can I do for you?"

"You can stop calling every female 'Doll-face' to start!" Alexandrea snapped and then caught her self. "Sorry, I am not mad at you but it really is kinda rude Harry. But we'll rain check the chat about your chauvinism and I'll get right to the point. have you heard anything at all that's out of the ordinary?"

There was a long pause as the man took the phone away from his ear and just stared at it before putting it back. Alex hadn't been using her ability to see through his eyes so she missed it or she might not have been started by Harry's next question; "Where do you think we live?"

Silence for a full minute before the blonde relaxed just a bit and started to laugh, putting her thrall at ease, and Harry went on; “Nothing you would call unusual, bosslady. Just the regular sack of crazy. Anything in particular you want me to keep an eye out for?”

“No, Harry. It’s nothing I have any real information on. Yet. Just… a forewarning from a reliable source that something wicked this way comes. Maybe. Quite possibly…”

The man nodded with a frown, deciding to not make any cracks given the mood of Alexandrea and just said; “I’ll stay alert and contact you if I hear anything I think you might be interested in, alright?”

The blonde smiled and began to relax again the slightest amount. “That is all I ask, Harry. For now.” With a chuckle, Alex hung up the phone and tried to relax with her cat in her lap as she waited to hear back from Zodiac.

[Wendigo]

Dear Sir,
I could not help but notice that you are currently engaged in what can best be described, to my mind, as rather speculative investments. Given this, I feel it would be remiss of me if I were not to toss my own name into the hat and see if you would be interested in becoming an investor in my own little ventures.

Wendigo nearly deleted the email without further reading, but the benefit to Technokinesis was that the entire email had loaded into his short term memory and was processing before he even executed the command.

On a more random note, and one that almost approaches gossip, would you happen to know anything about what is happening at the Mausoleum in Cherrydale, by any chance? I get the distinct impression that security has been tightened for some reason, over and above the levels it was already occupying.

The Mausoleum? The old north end was probably the territory Wendigo ventured to least: he had few interests in the area, and it had long been too dangerous to operate there. Was it worse?

He thought hard at the intercom button on his phone. "Vincent. Oldtown. What do we know?"

The weary voice on the other end indicated someone who had been woken from their sleep. "Nothing major, Gabriel," the thrall replied. "Military hasn't gone anywhere."

"Fine," Wendigo growled. After a pause, he remembered to thank the thrall before abruptly cutting off the call. That the military hadn't gone anywhere yet could be construed as a failure on Bancroft's part... but it could also mean that there was increased reason to stay. Something uncovered, perhaps? Mordechai's information came in only a few minutes later: a missing reporter. Whether some fatal fate had befallen this reporter, or they were simply in hiding, a journalist who wasn't pumping out worthless celebrity gossip was a problem.

It could be coincidence, he reminded himself... but something was in motion. In order to find out how deep the problem was, he would have to go deeper than Vincent could: the thrall was useful, but Wendigo wasn't going to send a mortal clambering around the sewers and Mausoleums to be swiped at by vampyric "peers". Some jobs required a more hands-on approach.

Fetching the rifle from the weapons locker disguised as a file cabinet in his office, he sent back an email to the unknown businessperson: Checking Cherrydale myself. Will be at Mausoleum by 1:30. -W

It was an open-ended statement, but he wasn't certain who he was dealing with.

With Mordechai, however, he knew exactly who he was dealing with. "Potential lead in Oldtown," he mentally projected to the fellow Killer.

"Going to find a brain to pick."

[Macaria]

After stepping away from the computer, Macaria had gotten on with the work she had had planned for the evening, having put it on pause briefly to wander around in the sewers chasing down an errant pet slash servant. First on the menu was continue to set up her accounts for her new shop. This would have been more of an issue had she not had some experience with the process from doing the same thing for Hades Herbs.

That being said, the paperwork was still a nightmare.

From there she had continued with her more mystical work, as she felt this was her true calling, her business ventures serving solely to facilitate the chase for arcane knowledge. Tonight she was tormenting a demifae by shouting random syllables at it until it finally gave up and consented to tell her how to harm another vampire from a distance. This, she felt, would be a worthy addition to her repertoire and would fill out her grimoire nicely.

So it was with a general air of annoyance that she returned to her PC after the alert tone informed her that she had an email waiting. Upon reading the missive, she was of the opinion that ‘email’ was a bit too grandiose a title for a one line communication. And he had failed to address her offer of a joint business venture.

On the plus side, he did seem to be taking an interest in her question about the Mausoleum and the continued military presence surrounding it. She scanned the line of text again, wondering if it could be construed as an invitation to join him in whatever it was he was planning to do, and whether or not, were it so, she should join in.

There were several things to consider. First of all, she had already ventured from the relatively safe confines of her farm once that night and it would take something special to make her want to leave again. That being said, she might also find out something about where her zombie had got to. And that being said, Wendigo might find out something about where her zombie had got to and she had a feeling that if it was the reason for the increased security he would be none too pleased. Which would mean being in his immediate vicinity would, most likely, be a bad idea.

Of course, on the other hand, it smelled like an adventure, and adventures were typically fairly interesting. She could also not argue that it would be good to disrupt the rhythm of her nights a little. Which was why she replied to the email with:

I shall see you there, I think. I’m intrigued now. - M

As she retrieved her coat and slipped from her house, pulling on her gloves as she did so, she found herself wishing that she was able to see through the eyes of her pets. It would have meant that all of this effort could have been avoided and she would have been able to stay at home, fiddling with ritual magic and tending to her plants.

Whilst walking back to the Mausoleum she wondered how best to broach the subject of why, exactly, she was sending zombies out to run errands for her so that she would be prepared if the question ever came up. She hoped that it would not. Fervently. Sparrow had warned her that others within their little community might not approve of her extra curricular activities, up to and including her habit of using the newly reanimated dead to take care of odd jobs and occasionally pick up groceries.

Thus far the ‘zombie walk’ excuse had taken care of any issues with the human population of the area, but she had no faith that that line would work on with the vampires. Mostly because they actually would know the truth of things. And that was without going into the fact that she might be to blame for the security issue. A fact which, to be honest, she was dwelling on more and more as the time for their meeting drew ever closer.

It, she was sure, would be a very bad thing. Especially given the general mindset of her nominal lineage.

So it was, with a considerable amount of trepidation, that she sat on a bench opposite the mausoleum to wait for Wendigo to arrive, wondering how she would recognise him. She would most likely be aided in this by the time of night - on the way here she had seen a grand total of four other people - but as the two had never met before, she could see them standing around waiting for the other one to show up and getting nothing done. Which would be awkward, really, any way one looked at it.

Sadly, there were few ways to say ‘hi, I’m the vampire you’re looking for’ without giving oneself away to the few humans around. Macaria did not know much about the various laws most of their community lived by, but she was fairly sure that this would be one of those things that would get a stern talking to. At gunpoint, most likely. And all gifts of cupcakes would be forgotten. Sh could do without that.

She glanced at her watch, seeing the allotted time was only about five minutes away and realised that she needed to come up with something quickly. Her thoughts raced without settling on any solutions, having no real experience when it came to things like this. Worse still, she had neglected to bring a book to read. She sighed with exasperation, resolving that something would make itself known when the time came.

Which it had, she noticed.

She stood and looked around, trying to work out which one of the handful of people wandering around was the one she was supposed to meet.