[[ Written by AI -- I hate writing articles (prompt at the end) ]]

London, England

In a bizarre and tragic incident, a building collapse has left authorities baffled and the community shaken. The structure, located in the heart of London, crumbled unexpectedly, claiming the life of one individual identified as Reggie Hill, a prominent businessman who recently acquired the building and the associated company.

The collapse, which occurred with eerie swiftness, resulted in no injuries to bystanders and remarkably spared neighboring properties from damage. However, the loss of life has cast a shadow over the incident, particularly given the mysterious circumstances surrounding Mr. Hill's untimely demise.

Investigators are currently scrambling to piece together the events leading up to the collapse, yet thus far, concrete answers have proven elusive. "At this stage, we cannot ascertain the exact cause of the collapse," stated the Chief Inspector leading the investigation. "We are exploring all avenues and leaving no stone unturned to uncover the truth behind this tragedy."

Complicating matters further is Mr. Hill's recent actions within the company. Sources close to the investigation reveal that he had recently undertaken significant restructuring efforts, resulting in the termination of all employees and leaving thousands without employment. While the precise connection between these actions and the collapse remains speculative, it is a thread that investigators are diligently pursuing.

The sudden loss of Mr. Hill has sent shockwaves through the business community, with many expressing condolences and grappling with the uncertainties surrounding the incident. "Reggie was a visionary leader, and his passing leaves a void that will be deeply felt," remarked a former colleague who wished to remain anonymous.

As the investigation presses forward, the community remains on edge, grappling with the enigma of a building collapse that claimed only one life yet holds within it a multitude of unanswered questions. Authorities urge anyone with information pertaining to the incident to come forward as they strive to bring closure to this perplexing chapter in London's history.

[Atharim monitoring the events and cleaning up any loose ends]

[[ Prompt:  In a story I'm writing I need to have a newspaper article written about a building collapse.  It was mysteriously brought down, with only one death and no injuries or other property damage in London England.  Authorities don't know what happened, an investigation is on going.  The only death was one Reggie Hill a prominent business who had just purchased the building and the company.  He had just recently fired all the employees putting thousands out of work. ]]

[[ re: London Reality ]]

[[ if anyone wants to write an NPC feel free at any point in this thread.  It is not pre-written I'm killing some time for some other threads to wrap. ]]

The hungers were fueled by the dark pleasures of taking a life.  Nox hated the monster he was becoming -- or rather re-becoming.  Memories he'd thought long forgotten resurfaced.  His first time killing a god with Jacob.  It wasn't pleasure but it was satisfaction of a job well done -- the praise that followed.  What he would have done to hear those words from his father.

The whole idea of pleasing his father turned his stomach.  But the horde latched on to the feelings and pushed his own memories at him -- feeding their lusts and desires.  They wanted more and self pleasuring in the shower after a hearty steak dinner wasn't going to suffice tonight.

Nox learned from his father -- he hated the facts.  But it was what it was.  He knew how to find what he needed.  He truly missed Oriena in that moment.  A quick call -- and he'd have exactly what he horde needed the violence and the sex rolled into one.  It would sate the beast inside.

Even in the middle of a place he'd never been Nox knew the signs of brothels and whore houses.  Or even the woman walking the street who desired money for sex.  But his feet carried him into a different place -- a different world.  No the horde wanted violence -- Nox wanted to punish himself for the thoughts and feelings he was reliving.  And a women no matter how good at her job wasn't going to cut it.

Nox left his gear and only took the credit chit and identification with him.  He thought about leaving his wallet behind, but he'd probably need that to translate.  He didn't know any Chinese. 

He found himself in a rough and tumble bar filled with Chinese gangsters.  They all stared at him when he walked in, but he didn't let it stop him as he made his way to the bar and ordered whatever was on tap with a little help from the translator on his Wallet.

The bartender didn't bring his drink, instead several men surrounded his bar stool and a big man growled in Chinese at him.  Nox held up a finger and turned the translator back on.  "Sorry, man, didn't understand that."

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?"  The translator replied after he spoke in his words again angrily.

"Having a drink and looking to be fucked." Nox said, however the Nox was pretty sure that wasn't what the translator said.  Or maybe it was and the implication that any of them might be gay resulted in the punch to his gut followed by another fist to his side until Nox was ready to curl up on the ground to protect his more vital organs.  And then the feet started.

The horde reviled him, but the pain and the blood coursing through his body, the violence enticed them.  Thrilled them even.  But even Nox had a line.  A few of them started kicking their feet at his head and neck and that was more than enough for Nox. Nox reached in through the slime slicked light of the power and he wove a blast of air that flung the attackers from him with ease.

Several of the men were pinned to the nearest wall, others had toppled over tables as Nox got up off the ground dabbing his thumb at the busted lip and grunting just a little as he sat down on the bar stool he'd vacated.  "I'll have that beer now."

He let the power go and waited for whatever they wanted to throw at him.

Ezvin hadn’t visited the church in a while. He’d been busy, but he was always busy, and for some reason, this evening he had to urge to go wandering. He assumed it was because he had a lot on his mind, and when in this mood, it was to music that he turned. He was at home, strumming away at an acoustic guitar, tweaking out melodies and humming along with a half-formed tune, when something on his social media sparked an idea. As a result, he decided moping at home wasn’t going to get him anywhere useful. He packed up his guitar and came here.

The refugee church was an old, familiar site. As a kid, Ezvin’s mother used to take him there to volunteer, and when he heard that it was a place for refugees, he wandered back one day to see if he could help somehow. He’d come back once or twice, the second time with his guitar and did nothing but play and lift a few spirits. 

There were some questionable rumors hovering around the place, but Ezvin saw the best in people, and such reputations didn’t bother him. He entered the church through the front doors. Nobody paid him much attention. He wore a nice leather jacket over a henley with form-fitting jeans, but he didn't particularly stand out other than carrying a guitar case.

Most of the last leg of the the 8 day trip Nox spent in his seat practicing various weaves backwards.  He never had one explosion.  It wasn't hard work until he tried to do it twisted as well.  So he kept working on weave after weave backwards until it was almost rote. 

A text did arrive at one point with the names of the plants he'd sent to Raffe.  He thanked Raffe and promised a home cooked meal.

  I owe you.  Make you your favorite meal when I get back.  As a thank you. 

Nox started working on a little planter, an earthen ware pot he created from an earth weave.  Filled it with dirt and made a small rectangular terrarium to grow his new little plants in.  Well at least when he got them.  The fresh scents from the live plants always worked better, and in the mean time he'd pick up essential oils as well and mix and match until the horde was completely pliable. 

It wasn't a fix-all but it was a better solution than sex and fighting all the time.  The horde was scratching at his walls more and more the further he got from London and Hayden.  And ultimately Raffe, but Nox was doing his best not to think about any of that.

Now all he had to do was plant the plants -- that should be fun.  But for now he'd continue with the little bag he had, it worked for now.

The storm raged outside and Sierra and the pups hunkered down in the bathroom.  The only place she was sure the pups would not escape since the door still hung off the hinge from Tristan's brusk nature.  Sierra hushed the pups.  "Sleep now.  Let's find Tristan."  She projected the image to Never and he settled but poor Bre didn't have that, Sierra held her close and calmed her with her fingers through her fur as she closed her eyes and drifted into the dream.

If Tristan were hurt maybe he's drift there too.  Maybe...

Nox had been gone for several days now.  Sage tracked his movements and he was safely in London and from what he could tell Nox was hooking up with a cute bartender.  Nox knew how best to hid the phone so he couldn't see anything so Sage didn't bother trying.  It was the one bad thing with a person knowing he was there.  The moments to watch things was limited by their knowledge -- it sucked but whatever.

But along with staying connected Sage had promised to watch out for two little girls who lived at the church he'd been to with Cruz.  The one Raffe knew the guy and Cruz pissed off.  It wasn't in the greatest part of town.  But it didn't bother Sage as he walked from the train station.  He'd told Aiden he was going for a walk -- he did.  He walked to the train station.  It wasn't a lie and it wasn't like he was hiding anything.  Aiden just stood out in places like this -- his being famous didn't help Sage blend in.  And Sage wanted to blend in.

Getting robbed right now would be a bad thing -- though he could easily find the stolen goods.  All of it had trackers in it.  And he'd already installed his software and a bunch of other things.  Most notably some kid friendly games and because Sage knew Nox a few learning things.  One of them was even an instructional on how to do Karate and Tai Chi.  Sage knew Nox was teaching one of the girls how to fight.  He didn't remember which one, but it didn't matter.

Sage pulled open the doors to the church and was surprised by the number of people still living there. Sage wasn't one to fix things for people he didn't care about, but he knew Nox felt bad.  But there was nothing either of them could do.  Some homeless people just didn't know how to do anything else.  But these kids?  Why wouldn't they find a home?  Nox would gladly take them in.  Like he does every one else even if he doesn't have a home.  He took him in.  Sage was grateful for their friendship, even it was a bit strange looking in from the outside.

The girls were huddled in a corner and Sage had never met them.  He approached slowly with a bright smile.  One of the girls stood up and in front of the other. "I'm not here to hurt you.  I'm a friend of Nox's and I have a gift  for each of you."

He held out two decent wallets for the girls.  "You know Nox is away, right.  I have his number right here.  And he has your numbers.  He sent you both an image to prove that I'm who I say I am." The image on the screens was of Nox with a pink bunny riding on a train.  He captioned it. 'Thinking of you both'.  Each picture phone had their names at the top.  

The little girl behind the other darted forward and grabbed the wallet with 'Morgan' on the picture.  "Why would you give us this?"

"So you can keep in touch with Nox.  And so he can see you are alright.  He really cares about you and wants you safe.  I'd take you with me, but I don't know what my boyfriend would think of me bringing home two girls."  Aiden would probably love them, but Sage didn't want to be responsible for two little girls -- he wasn't Nox.  His heart didn't bleed for them like his friends.  And to be fair he had enough trouble taking care of himself and Aiden.

[[ Runs in tandem with Runaway Train]]

Two dossiers were attached to the assignment for Nox's next marks.  He followed at a distance, wondering why he just didn't fly to Paris.  But whatever -- there was that plane accident he was in so maybe that had something to do with it.  But it really didn't matter, Hayden followed Nox. 

The train was unique.  He'd never been on one before.  Hayden checked in with his assistant manage at Harbour House to make sure things were going well. 

He kept in touch with Zef through the burner phone they gave him.  Nox seemed on edge whenever he saw him out of the corner of his eyes.  But they didn't want him to blow his cover, so Hayden stayed hidden. 

Hayden hung out mostly in the diner car, his seat on the train was less than comfortable and Nox walked through regularly grabbing something to eat almost like clockwork. 

There was a lot going on, on this train.  And a party in an adjoining car was loud and raucous.  Hayden wanted to slip in and have some fun, but he was working and it was a distraction.  But the noise drew him more and more and eventually he knew he'd give in.

Target 1: Robert Read, Diplomat, Atharim, Traveling to/from China
[dossier attached]  [itinerary attached]

Target 2: Song Fan, Beijing China [dossier attached]

Enough time had passed. The emotions stirred by her visit to Ebou Dar had resettled, leaving a fine mist of impartiality in its wake. Routine without Kasimir had continued; her studies, alone and with her ajah, her visits to the city, and her deep contemplations. The morning had seen a combination of those already, including a particular interesting meeting in one of the Brown’s alcove common rooms, which had left her with a parchment scribbled with notes to follow up. These she deposited by her favoured armchair, where she would not forget them. A netted shawl of cream and white slipped from her shoulders, and was laid idly on another piece of furniture – an armoire, she thought vaguely in passing, since the shawl had been a gift and one she would undoubtedly feel indebted to wear again.

Her soft footsteps had purpose, but her mind still lingered with the meeting. If any had been present to witness her expression, it was the epitome of Brown stereotype, brows gently drawn, gaze caught in an intensity that lacked focus in the physical world. Fortunate, then, that she could navigate her rooms with her eyes closed. Her left palm pressed again her bedroom door, and saidar brought tender flame to various ensconced candles within. It was the only room in her apartments she would feel uncomfortable letting another see, the only part of her sanctuary she had made any effort to make her own. Convincing herself she had the right to do that – to put her physical mark on an actual space – had taken time, and made slow advances even now. One might struggle to see how – it was still very much generic – but to Malaika’s sensitivities, it was like a portal to the most private recesses of her mind.

She sat on the edge of the bed, and retrieved the key from her pocket. There was no hesitation; Malaika had made this decision, and arduous though the decision-making may have been, once it was made she did not balk. The ward about her bedside cabinet unravelled at her touch, the faint traces of saidar wrought by her own hand yielding to its mistress. The key turned, the drawer pulled out, and the envelope sat in the shadows within. She pulled it out, memories simmering at its touch, and flicked it open. The page within was folded neatly, and she smoothed it out on her lap. The script at its centre was in Chakai’s utilitarian hand; to the point, nothing extraneous but for the few details he had imparted from his sick bed, perhaps to remind her that the longer she let the wick burn, the less time before even this information would be useless.

She read it twice in quick succession, words carved in mind as if on stone, then the glow inflamed her and the paper burned. She watched impassively as it curled and blackened from the edge, and caught the ash in her right hand, where the heat found no purchase on pain.

Now she knew, and now there was a bigger decision to be made.