Continued from Looking glass


Sierra was right. There wasn't a real road for at least a kilometer off the river. Luckily, Stanislav brought snowmobiles. There weren't real paths per say to cover the distance, but experienced drivers maneuvered Jaxen, Elias and Sierra through the trees by riding second seat.

Comfortable SUV's with blacked out windows and generic markings waited to carry them to the city. Stanislav ceased his interrogation of Jaxen along the way, but the narrow suspicion in his eyes sent a chill through Jaxen. That look might as well be transplanted off his father's face, and when he met it, he wans't sure he'd be able to hold back the truth. Scion was likely to have his son sent to a mental hospital, or else banished to some dark room until he gave up the truth of where he'd been.

As such he was relatively quiet as they returned to civilization. In Jaxen's mind mere hours had passed, and it should be early morning after a night pissed away at Manifesto. Yet the trees had changed season, the sun was in the wrong place in the sky, and as he scanned a Wallet delivered by Stanislav, he found the headlines surprising.

"What's the deal with this Theo Andlain guy?"
He asked of the car. He glanced at Sierra, but ended up looking for answers from Elias since she made it clear she wasn't up on the latest breaking news story.

continued from here

20 minutes later they were on the road. 30 minuites after that everyone had their positions. Martin waited outside the rear entrances with Gunnar. Yoshimiro and Cross were out front taking up positions to make the surprise attack. Annemarie was in the comms van a few blocks away from the gentleman's club the man was sighted at. Martin hadn't been to this particular one, but it was high end and he made a note to check it out for other possible godlings. Surely if one frequented here there were others as well.

Fai was standing by in a near by safe house. She would only be called out if there were injuries. Hopefully today they would take out a god. It would be a spectacular day!

Martin sat in the shadows of the alley way. He could see the rear door. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up as he stood nonchalantly against the wall. He was dressed in meager gear on the outside, but he wore his thin armored suit underneath. A man like Volodin was likely to have a gun - he was a mobster after all. The armor would do nothing for power blows, but Martin hoped it could stop even projectiles from the godling from killing him. At least prevent them from piercing his body like they had that cop.

Now all they could do is wait and pray that no civilians got in the way. They apparently didn't have to wait long as Martin's wallet buzzed silently against his chest. He glanced at it and saw that the target had left their eyes and ears inside. It was only a matter of time now. Martin whispered into his coms, "Everyone be ready. He could show any time now."

News runs wild about a young MSU student named Theo Andlain, who claims to be a user of magic, survivor of the Sickness, and terrorist laying waste to Moscow life and property recently. His bold claims come on a private internet channel that has thus far been unable to lead to exact whereabouts. However he is not hiding. In fact, he calls for those of his kind to rally to his position - that he can save their lives, teach them their magic, and work wonders.

He, and those in his group thus far, won Moscow's attention this week when they coordinated public displays of their power, first on a city highway, at the airport, and finally directly in front of Custody police. Theo regrets the loss of life and property, but claims the extreme acts were necessary to win the attention he needed.

He says he will continue to organize terrorist acts until the government acknowledges the truth. Until then the entire Custody argues whether he is a villain or a hero.

PC's may encounter members of his group in play, and certainly encounter the results of their actions. The Atharim and Custody intelligence are certain to be hunting him down meanwhile.

Scroll article: Supernatural rattles Moscow, ends in violence

Scroll article: Fire tears through Moscow

<big>Fire tears through Moscow, local man claims responsibility
The Report, 2046

</big>

Today a man posted on a private internet channel claiming responsibility for the fiery vortex that surged down the Garden Ring road yesterday. He has been identified as Theo Andlain, twenty-three years old, originally of St. Petersburg and currently a student at MSU.

<table>
<thead><tr><th colspan="1">Theo Andlain</th></tr></thead>
<tr><th></th></tr>
</table>


In his statement, he claimed the vortex was a sign of coming plagues he would unleash upon Moscow for every day the government denies the existance of magic-users. According to Andlain, young people of his kind are killed or kidnapped on a daily basis although he does not directly blame the atrocities on the government. He says he can be the hope for those who are afraid of what they are.

As apparent proof of Andlain's allegations, the video shows a small vortex of fire whirl above one palm, a miniature of what tore through the streets of Moscow yesterday. He claimed to regret the deaths and injuries caused by his actions but was forced to make a profound statement in order to be taken seriously. He warned additional scenes will follow in the coming days.

Theo Andlain's whereabouts are unknown at this time. Custody Police say the threats are being taken seriously and any act of terrorism will be dealt with accordingly. The public is asked to provide any information that may lead to his arrest or capture.

Comments on magic go unacknowledged.

<big>The Report: Moscow
2046</big>




Three acts of the seeming supernatural weather rattled Moscow today, each ending in violence.

First, during the morning commute, a vortex of fire three-stories in height surged down the Garden Ring road over a kilometer causing innumerable traffic accidents that were the direct cause of no less than thirty-four deaths and hundreds of injuries.

Then, in mid-afternoon, a blinding cloud of dense fog suddenly materialized over the Moscow International Airport rendering the airport to a complete stand-still until the strange phenomenon lifted. A jet bound for Minsk was in mid-take off at the time, but despite the low altitude, crashed several miles away. Eight were killed and over ninety injured.

Finally, in the central district of Arbat less than two miles from the Kremlin, police pulled an unidentified man from a vehicle for routine search and seizure. Witness-provided video showed red lightning streaked from the man and struck each of the arresting officers who were subsequently found dead at the scene. The man in question is unaccounted for and is considered the primary suspect in these events.

In the wake of these tragedies, official Custody statement expressed grief and sorrow over the deaths and injuries of today. Such mysterious phenomena have occurred with greater frequency. The Kremlin has denied allegations of other-worldly interference such as what has been compared to footage from the Battle of Jeddah in Dominance V, but the public demands these broadly witnessed atrocities be addressed. Pressure upon the Kremlin has increased regarding the inexplicable events.

A recent New York Times article discussed what most regarded as a stunt undertaken by American politician Nicholas Trano as some unidentified branch of science that the public deemed magical. Regarding today's events Nicholas Trano was unavailable for comment.

Last night I dreamed I was Ascendancy in real life. I've dreamt I was various RP characters in the past, but I think this one was the greatest dream of my life. Asc has an awesome life! And is a terrifying hell of a channeler!

Am I the only one that dreams they're their chars?

Three days inside the sterile white walls under the scrutiny of doctors and shrinks and various other medical personnel. Aria felt like a guinea pig, it was even worse than the way the Atharim had treated her. And then one day she was blindfolded and taken out of the facility. The only bearings she had was that she was ascending up and the moment they left the sterile facility she had been kept in. The smells were different. The people she could feel were more and more the higher she went and when they finally removed the blindfold she was lost in the light.

Aria found herself blocks away from home, almost literally. Or what used to be her home. She was blocks away from Lucas. He was her first stop. Aria had two wallets now, both highly secretive in nature, their encryptions were different yet she was sure that with both of the devices a hacker could have fun. Not that she would do that again. That had proved devastating. Aria still wondered what happened to the girl and how she didn't know the girl was a godling. But she had died of the sickness.

Aria walked the few blocks to Dueling Dragons and found the shop near empty. Only Sergei sat at the desk, from the window he didn't look well. Aria tried to pull open the door and it was locked. She knocked on the pane glass to catch the man's attention. Something was wrong and Aria wasn't liking this one bit.

Anyone around these part have characters or NPCs that own telecommunications companies that may have assets in Africa? And if so, interested in a brief tie-in to the Sierra Leone thread? Jacques is planning to take control of the telecom towers in Sierra Leone temporarily (which will likely tun into weeks and months and possibly into more such towers in other countries over time).

He wasn't sure if it had counted as a second date, but it had been as disastrous as the first. A fire had run them out of a high end restaurant, but the night had gone well after that, at least as far as he could gather. The second had been far worse; she'd called him for lunch because she was uncomfortable about her fellow cafe patrons, and he had left at the drop of a hat when he'd received word of the attack at the market. Only to leave her to be witness to an attack by something that had very likely been in the cafe before he had even left, from what he could gather.

Luckily, one of his men had been there to keep things from getting out of hand, and the police response time in Moscow was among the best in the world. It was a matter of some self-conflict that he had been so unaware to the threat at hand, but he had to admit to himself that he had been distracted by the company he had been with.

She had missed the Christmas dinner at the British pub he had mentioned on their first date, but the place was never entirely quiet. Churchill's Pub was located in the basement of a strip of old storefronts, sunken even further below street level as it occupied a space that had been first built some two centuries prior, and while it's location hadn't changed much, the road outside had steadily been added to and repaired, until the few windows in the pub were found in deep wells along the sidewalk's edge.

The interior was rich woods and rough red brick, the tables of an open arrangement rather then the more secluded booths found in most restaurants; it was a communal hall more then a mere pub and restaurant, a place where people came to meet friends old or new, although there were a few secluded booths. The place smelled of rich pipe smoke and lager, the shelves behind the long oak bar were lined with a dizzying array of scotches and whiskeys and ports. And a selection of vodkas, of course. Twenty tap beers lined the bar itself; no bottles or cans were stored in the back or in gaudy coolers behind the bar.

Drayson was dressed much as he usually was, minus one feature. His tie hung from a hat rack next to the door; the barkeep at Churchill's frowned on the work-atmosphere suit-and-tied patrons brought. He stood at a table where two old men were apparently arguing over some past imagined slight between them, apparently involving a fishing trip and a woman on shore. The details were not often touched on in the argument, as both men had been having the same one for going on sixty years. Details didn't much matter to them anymore.

Besides the pair of old men, there was a scattering of other patrons, but so early in the day the brunt of the pub's regulars were still pretending it was too early in the day to drink. Drayson of course only held a cup of coffee, as he was among that group who felt that the crack of noon was too early to be tipping back your first pint.

Straight from the mouth of the creator!

http://www.tor.com/2015/06/24/wot-compan...1-excerpt/