A.R.E.S. - The Formation

[Azraeth]

There was one figure who was very quiet through the whole meeting. Moros was naturally a suspicious creature, a mindset and relatable set of behaviors which had ultimately arisen due to bad experiences in the past. He was used to trusting Nikolae, and that was about it. Past factions, friends, lovers. Those things, people, had all let him down in one form or another. One might have asked why he was so quick to get involved then? What was it about A.R.E.S. which assured him things could change? Nothing. The aspect of anonymity helped, but ultimately, it was the responsibility of each member to give every other member just enough trust to make their missions, ideals, and goals successful. Thus, he trusted, because he didn't have any other choice. He didn't give much. He wouldn't tell them his name, not yet at least. He wouldn't call on them as friends, or invite them to parties, or ask them to do things for him, nor in his name. Perhaps one day, he would know them better, but for the moment, the long term plan was more important.

The woman who spoke held up a photograph, and Az got a chance to look at it for a moment. The image was hazy from a distance, but he could make out what it was enough to hope that it was real, and not some photoshop job. He made a note mentally to look up her codename on the sign up sheet at a later point so he could discuss, in more depth, what she had provided, and how relevant it might be to investigating the military. He wasn't about to reject any evidence outright, but being sensible about what one did with that evidence was also important. For the moment, he simply attempted to lock gazes with her before the conversation rushed right on past. He politely mouthed a 'thank you', to her, still standing as he was, not quite stock straight but close.

Recognition. His gaze was drawn back to the pair who wore animal masks. The man raised a good point. Anonymity of members was one thing, but that didn't mean their organization needed to be completely invisible. Having some sort of calling card would do them good, for missions that required a certain amount of public spectacle. Not that Az hoped there would be many of those. Misdirection was an important part of the political world, and cultivating a brand for themselves would make it more difficult in some ways to cloud the message they were attempting to convey. Or would be, once they actually began to get things rolling. It would also give them deniability, should they decide to do something entirely covert – the power to distance themselves from their actions when necessary. "I would love to meet with you in the near future to discuss this symbol, or logo. If you're an artist at all, I would doubly appreciate it. I'll get into contact with you via the contact you left on the sign up." He commented briefly. Which was, in part, to make his intentions clear, to say he agreed with the idea, and to point out the sheet to anyone who had yet to take note of it.

And that was when he inwardly cringed. He had been hoping the words spoken by the man in the hockey mask had been unheard. A silly notion when it came to vampires, who tended to get the best out of their senses. None the less, he'd hoped there had been some sort of hypnotic trance which might have briefly caused everyone not to take note. Thus he would not have to do anything about it. Avoidance was a wonderful thing for Az, because he was not the type of creature who did well with confrontation. However, what distinguished him from other pacifists, was that he wouldn't shirk the need to take the bull by the proverbial horns when the situation called for it. He lightly cleared his throat, before glancing meaningfully from Fox to Hockey Mask. There was something vaguely familiar about the animal mask man's voice, but he couldn't quite place it, and didn't attempt to. "I have to echo Mr. Fox's sentiments. I don't think liking each other is a requirement for taking part in this movement. However, insults do nothing except for distract from the point, which is that we're trying to accomplish something together. Every group needs at least one nay-sayer, who refuses to follow the crowd. I respect that. But this group does not need a nay-sayer who does not know how to address people like a person, or who cannot articulate their concerns in a manner consistent with the level of maturity expected here." He said. The words were delivered plainly. It was not intended as reprimand precisely, but as a warning for the future.

The good thing about anonymity was that it was a simple matter to cut someone out of a call or e-mail circle. That wasn't what Moros wanted. He assumed if people were gathered in the warehouse, it meant they had a stake in the future of the supernatural and Harper Rock. However, no one person was worth so much that they had the right to get in the way of getting things done. It was a lesson he didn't anticipate having to teach, so people could either treat eachother with the barest requirements to respect, or they would find themselves lacking an invite to future functions. Hopefully it would not be a problem in the future.


He made a good show of not shrinking into himself like a turtle. Thankfully, he had learned enough over the years watching Nikolae, not to flinch at the thought of being frank with people.

"Now let us put that topic to rest, because I think we can all agree that focusing too much on opinions of each other is a sure road to inaction." Which was when Tiger spoke, and he found himself deeply in agreement with her. It would take time for everyone to work together with any measure of cohesion. And then Argonaut added his own voice to the sentiment, and briefly, Az felt another flutter of hope in his chest. Yes! Exactly that! He wanted to say. Disagreements happened regardless of the group, and expecting for everyone to become a homogenized mass was unreasonable. However, expecting people to file down their rough edges was not. "I agree. I think organizing into smaller groups, so people can see who they work best with, might be the best option. As you say, there is not just one road, and more than one way to tackle a problem. There is no reason we cannot reflect that in our organization." He commented. And then another truth was spoken. Anyone gathered at the warehouse was there by choice. They could participate in future functions of their own volition, or abstain within reason. He would need some time to hammer out specifics in his mind.

Nemesis was making some clear strides to wrap up the meeting. Moros was ready to move on and begin getting into the 'nitty gritty' of the whole affair, so to speak. Which made sense. They weren't going to get a chance to discuss all of the intricate details, at least not in one meeting. For the moment, they had quite a bit to 'chew over', as the idiom went. The coming weeks and months would likely weed out anyone who didn't have the patience to plan for the long game, though Moros sincerely hoped they could 'get it together' enough to do something In the near future. He chuckled. Nevermind, we'll do it ourselves. Perhaps a little too honest. Or not honest enough. Az wasn't properly sure yet. None the less, he was ready to retreat to his own thoughts, and follow up some leads, when the Hockey Mask man spoke up again.

The words did not exactly inspire confidence. He didn't believe in pandering to people who talked about taking group business elsewhere. If they were so unsure, chances are they weren't ever going to be totally loyal enough to trust. However, considering the man in the Hockey Mask hadn't learned anything solid about any of them, and certainly nothing that could be used against them, he was willing to give the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps it was the other man's way of warning that he should not be given information, that people should not break anonymity with him, that he should not be trusted fully. Time would tell, Moros supposed. He debated simply leaving things as they were, and not inviting the Hockey Mask man to the website. That would be the simple solution. But maybe. Just maybe he had something to offer the group.

"I don't believe in being allowed to do anything." He began from where he stood towards the back of the room (in front of the crowd). "You ask for a purpose, and many people have said the same thing over and over again. The military is a concern because we don't know what it knows. Simply seeking to understand more about it is one goal. Even if we eventually do nothing about it, standing by and letting other people have unchecked control is the way of the weak. Want something greater? Planning for the future. Being part of something bigger than what the individual can achieve, organization and pursuit of a common goal. What you gain is the chance to have your voice matter in the grand scheme of things. I assume, if you are here, you find that prospect appealing. Make your choice soon, because half-measures and lack of commitment hurt nobody but you." He finished, feeling drained. He really was no good at the whole public speaking thing.

He hoped that until the next meeting, or whenever the membership got a chance to talk again, that they would do some research into the topic at hand. One vampire had said she delivered food regularly to one of the military bases. That was one source of information, for example. The invisible staff who helped to make a polished base run, were an excellent resource if used properly. However, the way resources were used determined their worth. He briefly smiled to her, giving a faint nod to make it clear he had heard her. In the future, they could discuss, in more detail, what she knew or might have known. It was much the same case as with the woman with the photograph. Putting the pieces together required time and commitment. Moros stepped backwards, towards the shadows at the corner of the warehouse, intent on disappearing into them. The first meeting was drawing to a close. Moros had his misgivings, but his sense of hope was stronger. People just had to believe enough to make it work.

[CharlotteC]

Again, after she had said her peace, Casey Jones chose to speak. And while she hadn’t cared much for the way he was, she had to admit, that finding the source of what the military was looking into had some merit. However, she disagreed with the idea that getting rid of the pests that was the military wasn’t a priority as well. They were, at the heart of this, the biggest threat. Not just to vampire kind, but to all. Charlie was a girl that believe that there would eventually be a way vampires and humans co-existing together, however, she knew that not only was she in the minority in that thought process, but every other vampire had drunk from the crazy stream the moment they drank from their sires.

Yes, the military was using vampires, experimenting, and what they knew and what they didn’t had to be figured out and perhaps destroyed, however, she knew that she was not alone, and people - both vampire and human alike - would speak out against any mistreatment of vampire kind if they came out of the coffin… so to speak. There were way too many people in this world that fought for equality of all. People fought for animals big and small. People fought for the LGBT community. People would fight for them as well. Yes, there was the fanatics out there that would go nuts, on all sides of the spectrum, it was the course of nature. Just like nature though, a balance could be established. She also believed, the military was able to do what they were doing down because the vampires had allowed them to work in shadows by being in shadows themselves. Shadows, they could be both good and bad.

She sighed softly, this guy spoke of the military outside of town and a small part of her wished to roll her eyes. Speaking of fanatical. Or rather conspiracy. Of course, it was possible, and as that came to light, she was already trying to find her way into the government system, she had to be careful though, tripping an alarm while hacking a military institution was always bad, which is why she didn’t do it often. As good as she was, the military always got better. Hell, most of her class went one of two ways, to work for the military or to work against them. Hackers on her level and better, they were usually taken by the military because like they were doing with vampires, the best way to beat them, is to join them. Or rather, look the other way when the monsters they create are doing things for them against the monsters they didn’t. The only way to beat the military was to take a page out of their book. To beat them. Join them.

The mention of The Walking Dead, pulled her from her thoughts - though not from her hacking - and she looked to Casey Jones for a moment more. The difference between the QZ and that show was the fact that the show, what they had not really gone into, had shown that the zombie infection was actually a form of evolution, or rather devolution. Everyone had it. The zombies here, as far as she could tell, were different. How, she didn’t know. She doubted that a human that came in contact with them though did anything more than die. She called back what he had been saying before that and her brow lifted. As far as she had been listening, she hadn’t heard of them wanting to bring down the wall. Either that or she had missed it when she had gone into one of her inner monologues.

Finally, another began to speak, one that she knew she had some kind of connection too, she could feel it, weak as it was. She listened to what he had to say, and she knew that he was right, there was no way that this would be a hundred percent safe, even infiltration wasn’t safe. There was and would always be the threat of being found out, or the threat of capture, the threat of being killed. However, that was the way of life, be it human, be it vampire. If you did stuff like this, whether you were human or vampire it was dangerous. She knew just coming to this thing, even with the new face, even with the mask, the hair… someone could know her, someone could tell she was using her powers. And it could **** her. And then she would have to see if her plan that she had really was what would work. As it was, she could feel the connection to some, and she knew that Michael knew her, would he give her up? She didn’t know. She hoped not.

As he spoke about taking a page from the military’s book, she smirked a bit, clearly someone else was agreeing with her on that front. Plus they would have to be smarter, like he was saying, like she was thinking. They had to find out what the government knew, how much about vampires or if they even assumed it was vampirism and they just wanted to get their hand on things that would make them bigger and better killers. Which it would, but last thing this world needed was more idiots with powers they don’t deserve. As it was there were too many morons with the power and immortality using it to make other people's lives a living hell. A group she would love to see burn.

His ideas about the two pronged attack was something she agreed with, especially if it was done without the violence that so many others loved to inflict on others. She glanced to the one male that had spoken about cutting into them like they were cutting into the vampires they owned and rolled her eyes. Morons like him. People that thrived on violence and killing were the people that gave their race, both as human and as vampire a bad name. It was people like him that made people hate vampires, it was people like him that made people fear them. Then they ***** and complain about being feared and killed. Of course they would be feared and killed if they gave humans reasons. Hell, even humans gave humans reasons to fear and kill. Nine Eleven was a good show of that.

Others took the floor after that and Charlie just watched, just listened. One woman offered pictures, but she was too far off to see them with any great detail, she would have to move closer to see them. And then there was the people dressed with a fox and tiger mask. She watched them both with a fair bit of curiosity but didn’t really have much in the way of an opinion on things, that is until the male of the group mentioned the rift, about closing it. She was against the idea of closing it, for the main reason he brought up. What about the others that wanted to come back, hell, every day those that were killed by the bullies had to fight to come back, she could just imagine how it would be for ancients. Though the idea of being able to control it had its pros and its cons. A big pro would be that they could control who and what came out of the portal. The Con? That they could control who and what came out. Who would control it? Who would decide? That would be a slippery slope that might allow an imbalance of power. Though, if you asked her, there was already one in play.

When the girl spoke, she didn’t really have a lot to add, but she did agree with what little that she had said. And when she said that she wasn’t a fountain of knowledge, she couldn’t help but smirk. Charlie was in a way just that, a fountain of knowledge. Not only from her schooling, but ever since she had learned how to browse the web with her mind, hacking and such, she literally was a fountain of knowledge. Or could be. She was online, hacking every moment of every day, even when she was doing other things. Even now, she was still trying to find her way and path through to the Ottawa branch of the military, but was doing it very carefully.

Still, when the warmonger spoke, she glanced in his direction, after all, it was only polite to look at the person talking. There wasn’t much that she agreed on with anything that he said, but the last thing he said did get her attention. Enough in-fighting. That was the damn truth. She had seen enough of it, and she was tired of it. Plus, fighting each other just distracted people from what could be a good or a bad thing. All because people had drunk from the same crazy punch as their sires instead of making up their own minds. They followed, like sheep.

Then Nemesis spoke, she still had a slight smirk at that person’s name, and she knew there was a connection to herself with them. In what way she didn’t know how, but she could feel it. From what he was saying, they all seemed to be mirroring her earlier words about infiltration and the likes, working like the Illuminati and the Freemasons. They did need to know things, hacking, blackmail, enthrallment, putting other thralls in. All things, that would work… the logo thing, she would have to think about that. Yeah, logos would help, but they also offered a way to be caught. Hell, the government started much the same way in America. The founding fathers had a coin, and that coin allowed them a lot of freedom, for a while, until that coin was found out, then they got caught. To a point. They had backup plans. Moves and countermoves.

By the end of his speech, he was imploring people to sign up, to also give burner phone numbers. She had a long, long, long list of thoughts. She had a lot of burner phones. You needed them in her line of work. All of her lines of work. She remembered that she had signed her codename and had given a contact number that was indeed a burner phone, so she didn’t feel the need to do it again, however, she was tempted to just write down another way of contacting her so that she could get a glimpse of the names that had been added since she had signed the page herself. However, she held back. After all, there was something that needed to be said for giving a bit of faith to something. So, for now, she was going to have a bit of faith.

Speaking of faith, the young girl who had brought of the idea of using wraiths spoke up again about an idea of using her restaurant to deliver food. And for a moment, she was tempted to say something. To once again burst the girl’s bubble. They may like her food, they may let her in, but her access would be extremely limited, and they wouldn’t tell her ****. Those that deliver things to forts and encampments will never learn anything from people. Not unless it is already common knowledge. No, if you wanted the real information, you had to get in, get within the ranks, the higher, the better. Or hack your way in. Which, she was still trying to do.

Then Casey Jones was talking again and she had to roll her eyes at what he had to say. ‘Policing’... oh yeah, the bullies of the city were really ‘policing’ their kind. No, they were bullying them, they were abusing their power. Though there was one thing she had to agree with, yeah, they would get information, and she always loved having lots of that… but what would they gain? Would they really get the military out? Learn the power of the rift? Learn to control it? What would they gain? Or rather, what did Nemesis wish to gain? Her eyes turned to the male as she wondered just that.

It was the other male that she felt a mild connection too that spoke up, first to answer the Fox, or rather to say that he agreed with him. She had to smirk at the not insulting others part though, she agreed with that. Or rather, she didn’t see the point in just name calling when they were trying to discuss something that was important to so many others. Then there was more agreement with the others and she couldn’t help but agree with some of it as she listened to what he had to say when he was agreeing with the people who had spoke. But it seemed that it was mostly to Casey that he spoke to and she agreed, going in half way wasn’t the way to do things. You either did them or you didn’t. She watched the way he headed off soon after and she could tell at this point, the meeting was coming to an end. She looked to the others, but then looked to Nemesis, wondering how he would call this meeting to an end. Or if he would just head off into the shadows as well.

[Noemi Michaux]

The paper rustled in her hand as she glanced down at it once more, the flyer boldly telling her where to go. Slowing her already easy pace, she refolded the form and slipped it into her pocket making sure it was securely at the bottom of the generous storage of her jacket. Glancing to her right and left she quickly crossed the street as the light changed, a small herd of people merging with her as they all braved the night time traffic.

Sidestepping to avoid a particularly disgusting puddle, Noemi spared a look at her boots, well tooled leather riding knee highs. The black continued to gleam its polish and she looked back up satisfied that she wasn't carrying something that would reek at a later date. The Necromancer's thoughts continued to coalesce, a small list of things she wished to ascertain at this meeting she was hurrying toward, her Sire having agreed with her interest in attending. It would be solid knowledge learning more about the goings on in the city, not to mention a chance to hear others of her ilk and their thoughts and opinions. Noemi was not one to jump to a decision or opinion without investigating all she could first, and this meeting would aid her in many ways.

Pulling up the hood of her cloak jacket the Doctor checked her hands to assure herself she had fed enough earlier, and pleased with the soft albeit pale flesh she slipped toward the entrance to the meet. She knew she was late, there had been no help for it, she had finished work as soon as she had been able and then of necessity had to feed from the stash her Sire kept on hand. She wished she had been able to be at the entire gathering but it couldn't be helped now. She enjoyed her work at the Asylum and would not shirk. Especially as new as she was to the staff. Her employer Doc was an enigma to her, but he was one of the rare people that knew social graces and combined them with an astute intelligence. It suited her very well to continue on there.

Gaining entry she could hear the muffled voices as the meeting progressed, and she pulled her black porcelain Carnivale masque out and then placed it over her aristocratic features, tying the ribbon at the back of her hair then letting the black waves fall into a soft jumble around the edges of the rather beautiful piece of facial art. Tugging her gloves back off, she placed those also into her cloak pockets, the jacket swirling around the middle of her boots, her black riding trousers tucked neatly into the snug legs.

As she neared the assembly, she slid against the corner of the wall, careful not to disturb or make noise, and remained silent as she listened. As the small arguments and disagreements continued and then faded down, she watched as people began milling toward the sheet where they would sign. Noemi waited still, mulling over what she was learning about the quarantined areas and the military keeping it housed... she agreed something must be done, but she was of a mind that nothing so very dramatic was needed... it was a shame they had no one to infiltrate, subtleties almost always worked better than force, and better yet it was those wins that changed the world without anyone even knowing they had happened.

It was something to discuss with her Sire Ambrose, she could help catch him up on modern events, and he could give her the knowledge of similar things in the past.

So decided, Noemi walked silently toward the sheet and signed her name. Then turning without ado, she walked back to where she had been standing and remained quiet, the French woman absorbing everything around her hungrily.

[Pi dArtois]

Michael had a well developed sense of self preservation. In his short life he had come to the conclusion that he was far from the sort of person who was built to move and shake the foundations of the world. He had long been satisfied with the lot he had managed to carve of his life. Even more so since he’d been picked up by the coldly gorgeous Parisian vampire. He had a cache with his current situation. He wasn’t sure how long he’d live, but this connection had given him access to a world he hadn’t realised existed.
If he thought about it too long he’d probably piss himself. There was no way he’d be keen to meet the beasts in the streets on his own. But with his tome and with his connection to a whole damn coven of vampires, he was well placed to be one of the few humans to survive the fall out if everything turned to ****.

At the moment he was texting to the woman who had hung up the call.

He was quiet because he was not the one who was going to make decisions about the level of their involvement, even if he was the one who had twisted Pi’s arm (in a long distant way) to get involved.
No, he was content to sit and to watch. He was content to listen and to make notes on his phone for anything he thought was note worthy, like the Executive Assistant he called himself earlier he understood the power he wielded here (minimal though it was) came in the form of information. Pi would need to know what this was about.

Of course, he couldn’t help himself from staring at those who were there. Their elaborate attempts to hide who they were from each other were as amusing as his own, and he smiled at many of the masks. But it was the conversation that interested the doctor, even the dude calling everyone a coward was of interest. Michael’s head turned as each individual spoke in their turn, as if there was a director off stage telling each
person it was their turn to speak and everyone else politely waited for their monologue to end.

For a bunch of potential anarchists, Michael thought they were all rather well behaved.

Michael for all his talents as a MD PhD, researcher and all round sluggard, was that he understood that power came in different forms. His power, was negligible. The power of a vampire, was not. The power of a group of vampires was exponentially better. So if he could get Pi to get off her ‘keep to myself’ ***, and get involved in a group that pulled together, then he would be working to protect her (something he was invested in) and in that way, protect himself. Michael was very good at self-preservation.

Now if only that Mr Negative Nancy would stop going on and on about how they’re all going to die by military intervention. Who invited the Doom Cloud anyway. But there were enough people following up from those flagrantly depressing statement that were a little more optimistic they weren’t doomed to become the next statistic.

But what Michael did like, was the idea of working in smaller groups. What he thought was best is that he not be in the same group with Mr Grumpy Doom guy, and maybe Missy White Face. The two little animal peoples looked like they could be fun, but pairings weren’t fun if they didn’t like to share. Sharing was caring after all. And Michael wasn’t opposed to a bit of three way slap and tickle.

All of the prurient thoughts aside, what was best about smaller groups, was control. Less people, less tension, short wait times for **** to get done and an easier framework with which to build from. Big groups tended towards benefiting the louder, and Michael was more concerned with the end game.

“We’re happy to work in smaller groups. Madame Butterfly works better in… intimate surroundings.” And then he smirked, because he’d just inadvertently made Pi sound like some floozy. Which was amusing.

[Nikolae]

Nemesis was grateful, not for the first time, that as a vampire he seemingly no longer felt migraines. Surely he would have gotten one by now in this meeting. He sighed at the circling logic loop some were trapped in, but tapped into the well of patience he'd gained in his years in Harper Rock.

"What you stand to gain... is control." He said simply, forcefully if in a quiet tone. He stepped back to the table, head tilting as he lifted the paper from it. "It is what any of us can hope for in the best of times. Some modicum of control in a city of chaos. We, each of us, as individuals have very little of it. Even those of us whom can call on others; on friends and family and allies. Even those still have so very little control over anything that happens in this town. Be it for whatever reason, whoever really holds the chains to the dog's leash. It matters not. What does matter is that I for one wish to grab hold of that leash, and at least be able to tug it a little. Immortality really isn't all that grand with the risk of so much hanging over our heads. Even as a human I had a better quality of life than anything I've found in this putrid little town we're all eternally tied to. If I'm the only one who feels it's time to take back that control, then I'm truly shocked."

He gave a little bow then, more a slight tilt forward, nothing fancy, nothing flourishing, and folded the paper carefully to tuck into the pocket of his pants. He wasn't sure what else could be said in the here and now, not when he felt so much more should be said in private away from the risk of prying eyes and dissenters. He noted the last minute attendee with some curiosity. Nemesis truly was surprised at the amount of interest ARES had garnered.

"It has been a pleasure to meet each of you. I look forward to discussing true solutions to the problem at hand. While our plans, as they are, require anonymity between us - at least for the time being - I have full faith that those gathered here each bring a different perspective, a unique idea and incredible abilities and capabilities to be used toward this shared goal. Protecting the supernatural world, our world, from those who would seek to control and destroy it is something which all of us here have a stake in."

Nemesis hesitated then, because he wasn't sure what more there was to say. He appreciated those that questioned this endeavor, their careful ways would no doubt prove useful in future actions which would be dangerous at the very least. Dangerous, but not reckless, especially with those detail oriented minds at work. Nemesis had himself always been a man oriented with the big picture, while his eldest childe buried himself in details and lists and how-to's. It worked well. He could sense others in this group divided along those same lines as well.

"Small groups will no doubt be the way forward. Unless there is anything else... my own phone number was listed on this paper. I will be contacting each of you to plan future gatherings and plans."