Michael recognizes the voice of Nancy Yarrow. She sounds upset.
"Michael, it's awful! Somebody drove their car straight through the front of the shelter! He went flying right past me. Is there anything you can do?"
Bridgette senses that the gate opens in an alley just off Aster Circle in downtown L.A.
Robbie checks out the area as best he can see, noting a worn copy of the L.A. Times caught on a doorstep. It looks like the alley is at the end of a series of dead-end roads, but he can hear the rumble of a larger road just on the other side of the buildings. Not far off, Robbie can see a highway overpass leading deeper into the city. The buildings around the alley all look to be in various states of disrepair, but all bear signs of habitation.
Roger shifts and settles on Chris' shoulder. "Thanks, big fellah. As yah can see, I'm not so leggy as usual. Although I've still got a third leg that could knock yer head off, let me tell yah."
He catches the hesitance on Chris' face, and says, "Don't worry about me pissing all over yah. I'm just guised like this. Mostah these people freak out when they spot me comin'. I'm bein' all discreet-like."
He looks over, and responds to Robbie, "I've gotta run some errands for mah Regius, and you're the hired help. What did yah have in mind for a break? Wanna go get blotto? Either way, first thing's first; we need wheels to get around in this town. Get us some, then we'll talk."
Apparantly Krata's computer went kablooey, so he might not be around much. For the moment, we can assume he had to remain in the chancel to help tidy up.
Robbie looks over to check with Bridgette, and says to Roger, "There's a fair chance that Bridge can handle the travel, but I can probably go and make an arrangement if we definitely need a car."
Robbie heads up to the entry to the alley way to look for a likely car to steal, or punter to filch car keys from, waiting for the yea or nay from Bridgette.
In the event of stealing a car being the option, Robbie will either punch a hole in a window and try to hotwire the car (all Aspect) OR head up to someone about to get in their car, use a Ghost Miracle of Chase to convince him that `that guy over there just took your wallet!', try an Aspect 2 pick-pocket of keys and drive off ASAP.
Ideally Bridgette can just conjure up a car or something, as I can see either of these going horribly wrong.
Between the end of the alley and the group a long convertible appears, as if it's always been there, a custom '58 Impala in eggshell blue, perfect for LA. The Bridge hops into the drivers seat, keys appearing in her hand in mid step. She drops into the leather seat, turns the ignition, and tests the engine with a rev. Plucking an extra large pair of jackie-o sun glasses from the glove compartment, and swapping them out for her own, she looks back over her shoulder to the rest.
Michael opens his mind to Marco Dominguez. As always, there's the pleasure of getting to order the asshole son-of-a-bitch cop around - another gift from the Master.
"Marco. Find out what's going on at the shelter."
He feels the beginnings of resistance well up at the command, and he clamps down with his will.
"Now, Marco."
He feels a grudging acquiescence, and he lets Nancy know that "help" is on the way.
Roger watches the car appear. He says, "Nice. At least one ah yah has some taste."
Once he's in the back seat, he crawls up in between the Bridgette and Chris. "Great. The first thing we gotta do is clean up some loose ends I left from earlier. There's a parking garage up north, offa Norwalk. Let's get up there."
The trip goes smoothly, but at some point along the way you seem to pick up a companion. There's a green muscle car three car lengths back that's been following you for a while.
The hairs on Robbie's neck prick up as his estate starts to wake up in his spine - at least, thats how it feels. He cranes around in the back seat and has a good look at the muscle car, trying to pick out the number of occupants and other pertinent details.
"Hey Elmo, would you mind tellin' us if those lads back there are your pals, or do we need to be thinking about getting some distance here?"
Roger crawls into the back, and stands up on the seat, looking out the rear window. He peers at the car, and says, "I don't think I recognize it..."
Suddenly, the green car veers off down a side street. He spins and jumps up in between the front seats. "Oh hell no! Sweet cheeks, we gotta get after that car!"
Bridgette smiles, more to herself than anything else.
"Gentlemen, babies, take your hats and hold on to them."
The Impala pulls an impossibly smooth right angle turn at the end of the block and lets out a growl that nothing in 1958 could ever have made.
Follow that car! I can't easily portal the entire car without causing dementia animus, and I don't want whoever's in it to know they've gained miraculous attention, so....Combined Miracles: Lesser Divination to pinpoint the musclecar (it's a form of travel), Major Divination to know its destination (i.e. where the car will go in the near future), Lesser Changes to very subtly nudge traffic and traffic lights around to our advantage and their detriment. This while driving at Aspect 2 for an intercept. Nothing over the speed limit just yet, just smooth enough to make Jason Bourne look like a 16 year old valley girl in a jeep.
"Robbie, I need a spotter. Pythago, feel free to mess with anything you can to slow that thing down. And you, tu petit branleur," Bridgette looks directly at Roger while deftly navigating traffic "will tell us precisely what's going on."
Robbie rocks around a bit in the back seat, taking going to great pains not to bang his head "Christ, even in miracles, you cannae trust a woman to drive!"
Lesser Preservation of the Chase, we won't be losing that car any time soon, including Lesser Divination of the Chase so as to better shout instructions. 2 DMPs spent.
Pointedly putting his seatbelt on, Robbie settles down and calls out,"You just be sure to let me know when you're done wi' your fancy detours, an' we'll wrap this right up. Take the next right!"
Bridgette masterfully weaves through traffic, which always seems to part just in front of them. The other car is having trouble finding openings on the crowded street, and it seems that Bridgette would overtake it in seconds. However, whoever's driving the green car must be very good. Every time Bridgette closes in, the other car somehow slips away. It's very frustrating.
As you rocket down narrow alleys and careen through crowded intersections, Roger just has a huge grin on his face. "What's goin' on is that there was a guy causin' trouble for my Regius. I came over to get him to quit it, and you lot are along as backup, in case anything should go south. Well, something got fucked up, because a certain third party is freakin' out. We were gonna fix that problem, when this rat," he gestures at the car, "showed up. I don't want them knowin' we're comin' until we get there."
So would Robbie possibly recognise this fellow getting away as a side effect of Preserving the Chase, or would this more likely be because the other fellow may be a Noble using crazy Aspect?
How obvious do these miracles have to be for people to start going crazy? Could I say, create a bunch of dust in his engine, causing it to seize without causing mass insanity? Or change into a dust cloud elemental form? It's LA, there's smog, right? What's another dust cloud? Could I ask any more questions at once?
So I'm actually opposing Robbie at the moment? That's hilarious.
"I could catch Ayrton Senna while riding a bicycle. Something funny is going on." Bridgette shifts in her seat, shakes out her shoulders, and moves her hands to something that resembles the positioning for highway police evasive maneuvering.
Screw the Aspect, Lesser Creation (level 4 miracle) to make me a driver of earthshattering skill. That should be enough to overpower the preservation and simultaneously give me the know how to cut this gentleman up without casualties. Hopefully witnesses will think this is all just a mob problem or something.
How does maintaining miracles work? Can I maintain the earlier traffic control until I spend more miracle points, or does it drop the moment I make another miracle?
Ok, I'm back. Sorry about the absence, everyone. Whenever these dick groundskeepers trim the lawn, they cut the cable connection to my house.
Sorry to lose you, Salt. I'll try to slow the pace down some.
Delta: Yes, normally you can sustain your last miracle at will, but it will drop if you do another. You can have it remain up on its own, but that costs a miracle point, I think. I don't have the book in front of me at the moment, so I'm not sure.
Almost too fast, Bridgette suddenly overtakes the other car. It makes a mad swerve to the right, but clips a parked car and spins out, rocketing across the road and slamming rear-first into a building. It rocks up for a moment, and then crashes back to the ground. It's engine croaks and dies, and the car just sits there smoking as bystanders dash away.
"That'll learn the son of a bitch!" Roger shouts. "Great drivin'. Let's get over there and have a little chat."
One arm over the back of her seat, a hand break turn brings the Impala back around to stop in front of the cooling green car. Blocked against the wall, it has nowhere to go. While idly flicking the gear stick into neutral, Bridgette shoots Chase a playful smile.
"Bored, Robbie? Maybe you should stretch your legs. I'll be right behind you."
She looks over at the toddler.
"And thank you Roger, any time you need transportation, you give me a call."
Robbie acknowledges with a nod that he's been outplayed - again - and hops out of the car, jogging over to the eager wallgreeter.
Making sure to be flexible about which way he'll run if the driver tries to leg it, Robbie calls out "You OK there, pal? Got any broken bones or similar?".
The oddly light manner of the question, and the glint in Robbie's eye, leaves open a query as to whether this is a concern or a potential forecast of things to come.
Chris leans out the side of the car, 80's finest still pouring out of the radio, "Oy! Is there anybody in there?! We don't have time for this hide and seek game."
I can't believe I've only just thought of this, but can I use the sight to see if there's a noble, or a spirit, or an excrucian or some such in that car? I'm not sure if it works through solid obstacles, but if not a lesser creation should give me a little portal type spy hole.
Sure, you'd be able to identify someone as a noble, excrucian, or other spirit with the sight. The car wouldn't be an obstacle since there are windows and such, but a solid obstacle would block it.
As Robbie gets closer, he doesn't see any obvious driver or passenger.
Roger crosses his arms and stares at the hood. "He'll do it, he's crazy. I've seen this lot do some sick shit in my time. Just tell us why your boss is after me," he says.
Robbie bangs the debris on the hood of the car to emphasize Roger's point.
"Do ye know what really works if ye want to completely ruin a motor?", he says rhetorically to the group at large.
Leaning in close to the car, Robbie says quietly and menacingly, "Sugar in the petrol tank. If a car was a person, I dare say it'd be like drinkin' glue - cludges the thing right up until it cannae even rev its engine."
He lets this sink in a moment, and adds "What a terrible way for all this to end, eh?"
Leaving the car running, Bridgette steps out of the car and wanders up to the rest of her familia. Her eyes are narrowed, but it seems more quizzical than aggresive.
I'm going to look at both the car and it's interior with the Sight as I get up to see if I can see what, exactly, Roger is talking to. Also, as cars are part of my domain, I'm going to see if I can initiate some kind of internal dialogue with it. We'll just start off with a not-unkind 'hello?'. This is a bit bad cop / good cop, but it might work. Basically, I want in on both sides of the conversation.
As Bridgette shifts into the Sight, she can see that the car is alone, and completely terrified. When she calls to it, it only glances at her for a moment before returning its gaze towards Michael and Robbie.
It breaks. "Ok, I'll tell you whatever you want to know, just don't hurt me! I'm just a grunt, I don't know anything important, I swear! The boss says you double-crossed him, sold us out. I don't care, just don't hurt me!"
Roger looks toward the other Nobles. "I'm impressed. You lot have a real flair for this kinda stuff. Anything pressin' you want to say to this moron?"
Yeah, with the sight you can see the miraculous nature of things. The world in Nobilis is animistic, so everything has a spirit. It's how you could make bullets afraid to hit their target, or make water angry enough to drown someone. Sorry if that's on the weird side, but things are going to get a little weirder.
Roger shrugs, and touches the hood of the car. Its engine flares to life, roars for a moment, and then abruptly cuts off.
He looks at you, "I'm afraid I've got to level with yah. I got a little sidetracked a few days ago, and hired the car mafia to whack a guy. They run this town, and I meant to stay hidden, but if they're followin' me around, it means something went sideways. Their Don is a big black porsche; he rules from that garage on Norwalk. We've gotta go settle him down; I can't have anyone else catchin' wind of this."
If nobody has any objections, fifteen minutes later you're parked across the street from the garage.
Roger says, "Get in there, find out why he's so pissed, and then shut him up, permanently."
"So, let me get this correct. You employed a gang to murder someone you didn't like. Now their leader knows about it, and he doesn't like what was done?"
Bridgette looks puzzled.
"Without knowing more about this, what can we do but intimidate him?"
She looks even more puzzled.
"We are, for want of a better word, Gods. This is a little bit... small for us, maybe? Is there more to this than you are telling us?"
She turns to the other members of her Familia.
"Also, if this Porsche is innocent, and we harm him, the Locust Court will have us for breakfast."
Posts
"Michael, it's awful! Somebody drove their car straight through the front of the shelter! He went flying right past me. Is there anything you can do?"
Bridgette senses that the gate opens in an alley just off Aster Circle in downtown L.A.
Robbie checks out the area as best he can see, noting a worn copy of the L.A. Times caught on a doorstep. It looks like the alley is at the end of a series of dead-end roads, but he can hear the rumble of a larger road just on the other side of the buildings. Not far off, Robbie can see a highway overpass leading deeper into the city. The buildings around the alley all look to be in various states of disrepair, but all bear signs of habitation.
Roger shifts and settles on Chris' shoulder. "Thanks, big fellah. As yah can see, I'm not so leggy as usual. Although I've still got a third leg that could knock yer head off, let me tell yah."
He catches the hesitance on Chris' face, and says, "Don't worry about me pissing all over yah. I'm just guised like this. Mostah these people freak out when they spot me comin'. I'm bein' all discreet-like."
He looks over, and responds to Robbie, "I've gotta run some errands for mah Regius, and you're the hired help. What did yah have in mind for a break? Wanna go get blotto? Either way, first thing's first; we need wheels to get around in this town. Get us some, then we'll talk."
Robbie heads up to the entry to the alley way to look for a likely car to steal, or punter to filch car keys from, waiting for the yea or nay from Bridgette.
Ideally Bridgette can just conjure up a car or something, as I can see either of these going horribly wrong.
Between the end of the alley and the group a long convertible appears, as if it's always been there, a custom '58 Impala in eggshell blue, perfect for LA. The Bridge hops into the drivers seat, keys appearing in her hand in mid step. She drops into the leather seat, turns the ignition, and tests the engine with a rev. Plucking an extra large pair of jackie-o sun glasses from the glove compartment, and swapping them out for her own, she looks back over her shoulder to the rest.
"Where to?"
"Marco. Find out what's going on at the shelter."
He feels the beginnings of resistance well up at the command, and he clamps down with his will.
"Now, Marco."
He feels a grudging acquiescence, and he lets Nancy know that "help" is on the way.
Once he's in the back seat, he crawls up in between the Bridgette and Chris. "Great. The first thing we gotta do is clean up some loose ends I left from earlier. There's a parking garage up north, offa Norwalk. Let's get up there."
The trip goes smoothly, but at some point along the way you seem to pick up a companion. There's a green muscle car three car lengths back that's been following you for a while.
The hairs on Robbie's neck prick up as his estate starts to wake up in his spine - at least, thats how it feels. He cranes around in the back seat and has a good look at the muscle car, trying to pick out the number of occupants and other pertinent details.
"Hey Elmo, would you mind tellin' us if those lads back there are your pals, or do we need to be thinking about getting some distance here?"
Suddenly, the green car veers off down a side street. He spins and jumps up in between the front seats. "Oh hell no! Sweet cheeks, we gotta get after that car!"
Bridgette smiles, more to herself than anything else.
"Gentlemen, babies, take your hats and hold on to them."
The Impala pulls an impossibly smooth right angle turn at the end of the block and lets out a growl that nothing in 1958 could ever have made.
"Robbie, I need a spotter. Pythago, feel free to mess with anything you can to slow that thing down. And you, tu petit branleur," Bridgette looks directly at Roger while deftly navigating traffic "will tell us precisely what's going on."
Pointedly putting his seatbelt on, Robbie settles down and calls out,"You just be sure to let me know when you're done wi' your fancy detours, an' we'll wrap this right up. Take the next right!"
As you rocket down narrow alleys and careen through crowded intersections, Roger just has a huge grin on his face. "What's goin' on is that there was a guy causin' trouble for my Regius. I came over to get him to quit it, and you lot are along as backup, in case anything should go south. Well, something got fucked up, because a certain third party is freakin' out. We were gonna fix that problem, when this rat," he gestures at the car, "showed up. I don't want them knowin' we're comin' until we get there."
Any word back from Marco?
How obvious do these miracles have to be for people to start going crazy? Could I say, create a bunch of dust in his engine, causing it to seize without causing mass insanity? Or change into a dust cloud elemental form? It's LA, there's smog, right? What's another dust cloud? Could I ask any more questions at once?
Sheep: Both of those would probably be ok. Basically, so long as people can explain it away otherwise, you'll be ok.
"This is ridiculous."
He slumps down below the seat, then changes to a diffuse cloud of dust, speeding out of the car and hovering above the green vehicle.
How does maintaining miracles work? Can I maintain the earlier traffic control until I spend more miracle points, or does it drop the moment I make another miracle?
"So, do we have a gun or anything like that on us? That could probably solve this situation quickly."
Chris settles upon "Take On Me", bobbing his head, tapping his feet, and failing at that high note.
Sorry to lose you, Salt. I'll try to slow the pace down some.
Delta: Yes, normally you can sustain your last miracle at will, but it will drop if you do another. You can have it remain up on its own, but that costs a miracle point, I think. I don't have the book in front of me at the moment, so I'm not sure.
Almost too fast, Bridgette suddenly overtakes the other car. It makes a mad swerve to the right, but clips a parked car and spins out, rocketing across the road and slamming rear-first into a building. It rocks up for a moment, and then crashes back to the ground. It's engine croaks and dies, and the car just sits there smoking as bystanders dash away.
"That'll learn the son of a bitch!" Roger shouts. "Great drivin'. Let's get over there and have a little chat."
"Bored, Robbie? Maybe you should stretch your legs. I'll be right behind you."
She looks over at the toddler.
"And thank you Roger, any time you need transportation, you give me a call."
Making sure to be flexible about which way he'll run if the driver tries to leg it, Robbie calls out "You OK there, pal? Got any broken bones or similar?".
The oddly light manner of the question, and the glint in Robbie's eye, leaves open a query as to whether this is a concern or a potential forecast of things to come.
Nice.
He walks up to the car and bangs on the hood. "Hey! We're talking to you! Why are you followin' me around, eh?"
He pauses for a moment, and then shouts, "Oh really, tough guy? Never, huh? You," he says, pointing at Robbie, "Yank a wheel off."
After a moment of confusion, Robbie's face looks like he just bit into a lemon. The car? Really?
After he gets over himself, he gets on with business, picking up a piece of crash debris to use as a lever to attack the car's front right wheel.
As Robbie gets closer, he doesn't see any obvious driver or passenger.
Roger crosses his arms and stares at the hood. "He'll do it, he's crazy. I've seen this lot do some sick shit in my time. Just tell us why your boss is after me," he says.
"Do ye know what really works if ye want to completely ruin a motor?", he says rhetorically to the group at large.
Leaning in close to the car, Robbie says quietly and menacingly, "Sugar in the petrol tank. If a car was a person, I dare say it'd be like drinkin' glue - cludges the thing right up until it cannae even rev its engine."
He lets this sink in a moment, and adds "What a terrible way for all this to end, eh?"
"Sugar? Why waste time when we've got something else here that will work just as well?"
His outstretched hand turns into a cloud of glittering motes, then quickly reforms.
"It would be a shame to ruin a fine vehicle like this one."
It breaks. "Ok, I'll tell you whatever you want to know, just don't hurt me! I'm just a grunt, I don't know anything important, I swear! The boss says you double-crossed him, sold us out. I don't care, just don't hurt me!"
Roger looks toward the other Nobles. "I'm impressed. You lot have a real flair for this kinda stuff. Anything pressin' you want to say to this moron?"
Roger shrugs, and touches the hood of the car. Its engine flares to life, roars for a moment, and then abruptly cuts off.
He looks at you, "I'm afraid I've got to level with yah. I got a little sidetracked a few days ago, and hired the car mafia to whack a guy. They run this town, and I meant to stay hidden, but if they're followin' me around, it means something went sideways. Their Don is a big black porsche; he rules from that garage on Norwalk. We've gotta go settle him down; I can't have anyone else catchin' wind of this."
If nobody has any objections, fifteen minutes later you're parked across the street from the garage.
Roger says, "Get in there, find out why he's so pissed, and then shut him up, permanently."
Bridgette looks puzzled.
"Without knowing more about this, what can we do but intimidate him?"
She looks even more puzzled.
"We are, for want of a better word, Gods. This is a little bit... small for us, maybe? Is there more to this than you are telling us?"
She turns to the other members of her Familia.
"Also, if this Porsche is innocent, and we harm him, the Locust Court will have us for breakfast."