Fantasy GODCARD: Act One - Rise of the Gods (Always Accepting)

[Safety Hammer]

Life sucks, don't it?

You get up every morning and go through every step of the same boring routine. Wake, work, and sleep. Only to wake up tomorrow and do it again. Morning fades into evening without much of a change. You sit back at your dead-end job, and do what you can do earn money, but all it does is fuel the cycle. Don't you want an escape? Don't you deserve it?

Perhaps you have the chance to change it all. To finally break the chain. Exit the loop.

One day as you walk home you find it. The location doesn't really matter. Whether it was tossed onto your desk by a stranger, placed in your mailbox by an unsuspecting mailman, or if it found its way onto the windshield of your car. Whatever way it came into your possession, you find yourself holding a black and gold envelope with your name on it. Inside is written this:

Dear Lucky One,

We have noticed your exceptional qualities and characteristics, and you have really caught our attention. You have been selected to participate in an experiment that could change the course of humanity for better or worse. Enclosed in this box is a god's name. Once you have picked up the contents within this box, you will be granted the powers of a god. We want you to use this power any way you wish. We will be observing you and your actions. We are sure you won't disappoint.

Please enjoy our gift.

With great prospects,
~ M


You open the box and find a small, simply designed, sleek, black card. On it is an golden image of a symbol of some sort, and a name underneath it. A series of strange symbols and letters that you had never seen before was bordering the edges of the card. They clearly weren't written with any existing language you know. However, as you run your fingers over the card, you see small instructions written on the back in plain english.

"Flip my card face out and decare my name. With this, I grant you my everlasting power, card bearer."​

 

[Birdsie]

Benjamin Martin - Martin & Partners Private Investigation Agency: Ben's Office

People think being a private eye must be a great job. You get a cushy office, a bronze mahogany desk, an old dinosaur of a computer, some of those neat window covers that create horizontal shadows with thin lines of sunlight crossing through them, and, of course, the old fax machine that never works.

Materialistically, no.

An office like that costs a lot, but Ben had money to spare after his retirement, and he liked the aesthetic. When someone came into 'Martin & Partners' they got what they expected. And to seal the deal, Ben acquainted himself with wearing a fancy hat and a trenchcoat to work. Unfortunately, he had to remove both implements when actually working. Draws too much attention, and this job isn't about looking classy but getting results.

And speaking of results, this job isn't easy. Anyone can stalk a half-brained dimwit who doesn't have the slightest idea his wife already knows he's being unfaithful and hired a private investigator to get blackmail material, or failing that, something the judge won't dispute.

Not everyone, however, can follow a Russian spy across Boston, "bump" into him while planting a bug, get up the next day to stalk him to the drop-off point, take secure photos of the deal, and then follow the other guy without him suspecting anything. The key to that particular scenario? When he gazes in your direction, look directly at him and pick your nose exaggeratedly. He'll think you're just some random, uncultured bumpkin and couldn't possibly be an FBI agent. The thick, poorly maintained beard giving the impression of a homeless bum does help with that.

But life isn't always easy. There's always something new to learn. A new trick to pick up on. A new skill to add to your repertoire that might come in use. Some pearls of wisdom have requisite kicks to the head that you need to accept. Sometimes literal kicks.

Sometimes, the hardest part of the job, though, is the boredom.

Benjamin Martin sighed, his legs on his desk, a cheap tabloid about US celebrities in hand, currently reading an article about two pompous journalists speculating if Justin Bieber might be gay, and how it could affect his career. Baseless drivel; outright kitsch, but somehow, his mind decided that this is what he'll read when waiting for a call, or waiting for someone to come through the door to his office. Hell, he'd be glad to see Amara right about now. Gets lonely in the shithole with no cases to work on.

And the worst part is those damn black cards. A private pet project of his that he's been looking into, out of curiosity and professional pride. The latest lead he had, about a guy tossing fireballs, turned out to be a trail of crumbs leading to a red herring. Just a smoke-screen for some drug smuggling operation. The fireballs were just practical effects he used to scare people away.

The moment Ben pulled stainless P95 and a warning shot whizzed twelve centimeters past the guy's ear, he dropped to his knees with hands in the air and started screaming he gives up and it's just a trick. Heh, trick.

At least the police chief 'congratulated' Ben on the successful crack-down while smiling like the dickwad he was, practically denouncing him with his eyes.

Ben sighed and flipped to another page, this one detailing Kanye West and something about a parking garage.

BackSet

 

[BackSet]

Amara Djinn
Private Detective... in Training

If someone were to ask Amara what the best part of his day was, he'd probably say waking up. Even if he woke up with a splitting headache he still loved waking up. Why? Well, for one, it meant he wasn't dead. And for another, it meant that he now had a whole day ahead of him. A whole day. To most people that may not seem like a lot but to Amara, it was. In Amara's eyes you had to pack as many things into the day as you could so that you were always experiencing things. From sunrise to sunset. And sometimes even past that.

Amara's second favorite part of the day was heading up to the office. It was an exhilarating reminder that he was a real life Private Detective. Something he could only have dreamed of as a kid. It also kind of amused him at how his iPhone broke the room's classic detective novel aesthetic.

So, after carefully making sure that his Black Card was safely tucked away within his tarot deck, he headed up to the office, ready to do something with his day. Once he reached the office, easily identifiable by the nice plaque outside reading "Martin & Partners Private Investigation Agency," he gave the door two quick knocks before heading in without waiting for an answer.

"Hey boss, what's up!" He said in an upbeat tone before plopping himself downnin the nearest chair.

Birdsie

 

[Birdsie]

Benjamin Martin

Cold reading is a sort of 'composite' skill you pick up on, if not as a detective, then as a person. Everyone, even that old Grandma Jones living down the street can do it to some measure.

It's an even mix of perceptiveness, charisma, wit, and psychology. You observe the person carefully to read their actions, from the most obvious to the subtle, picking what's important and dropping the little things. Psychology lets you connect certain actions to certain traits, moods, or behavioral patterns, and then you use wit and charisma to probe for other, deeper reactions and see the reaction. Child's play.

It lets you gauge a person's responses and learn more about them, often without them (or you) even realizing it. And Ben's card only makes it easier, filling the little things he sometimes misses, helping him create a fuller picture.

The eyes and hands are what matters most often. If they avoid eye contact it implies timidity or anxiety. You can tell if someone's lying depending on where they look when making a statement. You can even determine if someone is a smug, confident sociopath deep down, or just lacking social skills.

The hands have some other marks. Their movements can tell you of a person's confidence, enthusiasm, charisma, self-esteem, confidence in their social skills, their actual social skills, and reveal their feelings even when they're trying to hide them. If someone is gesticulating all the time, it's easy to mark them down as either a politician, a psychologist, or a fellow cold reader.

This also ties into one of the basic, first, rudimentary lessons you get as both a police officer and FBI agent: 'watch the hands.'

The hands are what pulls out a gun and shoots you. The hands are what plants the bug on your coat. The hands are the tool a gambler uses to hide his aces and trumps up his sleeves. Knowing what the other guy is doing with his hands ensures you can react on time.

Ben looked at Amara, and almost instantly recognized the kid was happy to be alive. Happy to be here. Happy to be a private investigator. Happy that this office was so close to the public perception's image of a Noir film.

Fortunately, awareness of these things makes it easier to avoid other cold readers. It's easy to make it impossible to determine whether you're lying or telling the truth, but significantly difficult to lie and it make it seem honest. Unless the person you're talking to isn't experienced in these things.

Ben? Ben didn't bother. He gave an acknowledging grunt, "Morning, Amara."

He lowered the tabloid in his hands, meeting his younger partner's eyes with a casually uncaring, lifeless gaze, but lifted a brow. There was a soupcon of sourness as he said, "Well, you look pleased. 'S there a giant rainbow outside? Didn't see it."

BackSet

 

[Gaius Danius Griinia]

Ren handed the frightened turtle to its rightful owner, the young girl giving him a bright smile as she held her pet. "Thank you, Mr Detective!" said the small child as she hugged her reptile. Well its ASSISTANT Detective... Apprentice Detective works too. Though I'm not telling her that thought Ren as he watched the owner/pet pair hug it out. The childs mother came along and thanked him as well. "I'll be sure to send the payment over to Martin and Partners right away... now lets get Julian back in his cage, Clarissa" said the mother as she ushered her daughter away. Tipping his fedora, Ren left the two as he made his way back to the office. One might glamorize the life of a Detective as murder mysteries and exposing the criminal element. Though Ren would argue that this line of work also has plenty of missing pets and rocky relationships. Ren worked as an Assistant Detective at the Martin and Partners Investigation Agency. The Boss had agreed to take him on as an apprentice after Ren had helped him solve a case involving a gambling ring in Chinatown. It was there that he earned his nickname "Joker" after the playing card. He was a wild element that was very talented at messing up the plans of lawbreakers.

Arriving in front of the office by taxi, Ren paid the driver before waving him off. Walking in, Ren took in the familiar sights and smells of his workplace. It had that nice vintage aesthetic that one would expect of a detectives office. The Boss and Amara had larger offices than Ren, considering they were fully trained and registered private investigators. Ren's office was small, but it had everything he needed. Closing the door behind him, Ren looked over his corkboard that was covered in various images and case documents. All of it relating to Black Cards like the one tucked away inside Ren's jacket. Pulling it out, he looked it over again. He had gotten this from a strange woman while looking for a lost cat. Her words were "Time to see whether or not you're a trump card" before vanishing completely. Taking some files down on his tablet, he moved to go check in with the Boss.

Knocking twice before entering, Ren walked in to find both the Boss and Amara. "Hey Boss, Morning Amara. Sorry to pop in like this, but I'm just reporting in on my investigations into possible BC or Black Card sightings. That guy who ran the bistro who says he was attacked by some kind of monster? It was just a homeless man in a costume. The man who thought his wife was reading his mind? Turns out he posts to this really specific chatroom when he gets drunk and she's found what he's been saying about her. Finally the pets that had been going missing in the downtown area? Turns out its just a string of negligent owners" with that he finishes his reports. "So far we haven't got anything on Black Cards... either we're the only ones to get them... or everyone else is very good at hiding themselves" Ren flicked his fedora in annoyance.

Birdsie
BackSet

 

[BackSet]

Amara Djinn
Not Quite Hard Boiled

Amara laughed. "Probably not. It hasn't rained in ages. Though it is a bit overcast today."

Amara pulled out his phone and checked the weather. Well what do you know. According to The Weather Channel, it was going to rain tonight and most of tomorrow. Amara chuckled to himself. Perfect detective weather.

Amara was putting his phone away when Ren walked in. He was rattling off various strings of information, all of it related to the Black Cards. Once Ren was finished he showed obvious signs of annoyance. Amara highly doubted a joke would help but he couldn't resist.

"Sup, Joker. How's Smash treating you?" He smiled.

Birdsie Gaius Danius Griinia

 

[Birdsie]

Benjamin Martin

Ben snorted, then cleared his throat as if he didn't get the joke, raising his tabloid and performing a finger-lick and page flip.

After a second of thinking, he shrugged.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised," he said, in response to Joker's hypothesis, though he sounded purposefully disinterested. He flipped to the next page. "Anyone who doesn't want to get cut up by the government would keep his head low after getting his hands on one of these." He turned the magazine ninety degrees to get a better look at Beyoncé's posterior and whistled twice at a low pitch.

He muttered something that may or may not have been, 'Girl, that dress shows waaay too much.'

Ben lowered the tabloid and got a good look at his two apprentices slash partners. A chance for conversation? About what, though? These two youngsters didn't strike him to be the types to talk about baseball, though Ben never asked... Alright, fine. Get over it and socialize, you old pessimistic, sneering bastard. After mentally slapping himself, and yet maintaining a perfect deadpan, dry expression on the surface, he laid down the tabloid and steepled his hands, putting one leg over the other on his desk.

And now that he looked at them again, poised to speak, he couldn't find a topic. His mind blanked out after some topics washed through it. He tried to chase after them with a furrow of his brow and, even after making a furious mental effort, he couldn't.

So, instead, Ben reached into his coat's inner pocket and pulled out a pack of smokes, one already sticking orange filter-out. He tightened his lips on it and pulled the pack away, as he used his other hand to take out an engraved, metal lighter, which he used to light the cigarette.

He drew in a long breath, the cigarette's end lighting up visibly as he did so, then took the object in his hand and huffed out a long cloud of foul-smelling smoke.

This small exercise of Ben's hands and lungs, and the sudden shot of nicotine in his organism refreshed him and his thinking and gave him enough time to make up a topic.

With the smoke still in his lips, Ben spoke, producing a sort of muffle in his voice, which was already grumbly by default. "Out of curiosity. Why do you boys reckon we got these cards? Who's making and distributing them, I should say? Sure, it says right there on the tin that it's God-given, but if there's one thing I learned it's not to trust what people say. Let alone trust what a superpower-granting black card says."

One more puff later, he placed the cigarette over the ashtray and tapped it twice, firmly, to get rid of the excess ash, as he looked at them for responses.

Gaius Danius Griinia BackSet

 

[BackSet]

Amara Djinn
Theorist

Amara rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, my first theory would be some osrt of secret government contract. But then, it would make more sense for them to give these things too active, trianed government agents as opposed to any of us."

It was certainly strange. Amara had tried every search format and every search engine he could think of. Nothing turned up anything. All he could find was Prostitution Advertisements and some weird forum roleplay. It was like the cards just didn't exist.

Birdsie
Gaius Danius Griinia

 

[Gaius Danius Griinia]

"Haha.... VERY funny Amara" replied Ren as he deadpanned at Amara's reference making. Then the Boss brought up a good question, one they all still lacked an answer for. "I have no idea... we were all given cards each giving us different abilities. We only have the three of us so far. I doubt that they're only gifting these to law enforcement or detectives like us. Judging by the parts of this card that I can read, a wide array of people have been given Black Cards" Ren then brings up all the info they had on the cards, which wasn't a lot. "These cards do indeed grant supernatural abilities to their holder. These powers are based upon mythological, or what we may have perceived as mythological deities" Ren takes out his own Black Card and shows them. Ren's card gave him a few useful abilities. He could temporarily cloud the minds of others, manipulate pure darkness and interact with the spirits of the dead. While certainly extraordinary, Ren felt as if he were only scratching the surface of what the card could provide.

"The card mentions that this distribution is simply the set-up for an experiment. That worries me.... people with unsavory intentions could gain these cards and use them to commit crimes that no regular law enforcement could solve or prevent. What worries me even more is the fact that this is an EXPERIMENT. What happens after they feel they've gotten what they've wanted out of us? What then? We know too little and I feel like every little thing we learn just brings more questions" said Ren as he leaned against the wall and folded his arms.

Birdsie
BackSet

 

[Birdsie]

Benjamin Martin

"Death is messy. It leaves trails, even if you hide it," Ben said, still holding smoke in his lungs. He let it out in a blue-gray swirl, pursing his lips as he stared into space with a non-conforming frown. "They're unlikely to kill everyone, but then again, these people can give everything I know about the world a middle finger, so I guess any hypothesis about what they'd do is pointless."

He almost sneered at the thought. Deduction and investigation were his bread and butter. Asking him not to apply them to a situation was like asking Kim Kardashian not to apply growth-enhancing oil to her asscheeks.

He narrowed his eyebrows in thought, meticulously trying to find an angle to tackle this with.

He huffed out some smoke and entered an absentminded mode of speech, throwing a chain of thoughts at his two apprentices.

"I guess if I was a mysterious individual, possibly with an organization of people at my beck and call, and lots of resources, with access to these cards and a desire to test them, I'd do exactly the same. Find the right hosts, give them the cards, sit back and see how things play out. Monitor the events closely and watch for observable results. From there, it depends. Assuming the cards are just that - cards that give powers, and nothing more - I guess I'd want them back afterward. Since I can't beat superpowered people without superpowers, I must have a card or a vector of my own. One that lets me beat anyone; trump any other ability, or at least most of them. A card that controls cards?... That's meta, but not dumb. Or maybe complete mind control."

The detective huffed another line of smoke, relaxing in his chair and letting his feet down to the floor with a thump. His cigarette was half-gone in his hand. He placed it in his lips again, causing a drawl and a muffle in his voice as he said, "All I got from that is that our potential enemy has lots of firepower and influence, and is most likely watching us at all times, including right now."

He took the cigarette out of his lips after drawing on it, and he smashed the bud into the ashtray, turning it a few times and squeezing with his index finger as it bent into a tiny, squashed shape.

He snapped his head at Amara and barked. Literally barked, in a demanding tone, almost like a drill sergeant asking a soldier a question that was beaten into his head for weeks on end, "Amara! Hypothetical scenario! I'm the maker of these cards. Can get my hands on any god that I damn please and give it to anyone I damn please. How do I go about observing every member of the experiment and collecting data, without, say, a skilled detective with what is basically clairvoyance, finding out about me, my location, and my identity? Give me your best shot, son. This man might be watching you masturbating!"

BackSet Gaius Danius Griinia

 

[BackSet]

Amara Djinn
Hypothetical

Amara felt he had to make one thing clear.

"First of all, I don't masturbate. And second of all," He snapped his fingers. "He or she could put a bug on the cards. No, wait, that would be the first thing we would check for. Have we checked for that? We should do that if we haven't. They could always hack into the security system but you can't hack into every security system we go near and not every place has a security system. Considering these cards give us super powers it's entirely possible that they could take a sort of sci-fi approach and have some sort of fluid or chemical that covers our hands whenever we touch the card. But that would be inefficient since it would wash off everytime we washed our hands. Of course, there's always the possibility, however slim, that this stuff is just plain magic and reality has decided to tell us to fuck off."

Every single one of these was a possibility but every singe one of these was also a terrible way to keep tabs on someone. All of them could definitely be removed by anyone with the least bit common sense. But also going any farther than that would be going into full blown conspiracy territory. Not some place you want to go unless you're desperate.

Birdsie Gaius Danius Griinia

 

[Birdsie]

Benjamin Martin

Ben nodded, still relaxed in his chair. He did remember now, after being reminded, that Amara said he wasn't into sex and all that. Once before, he whistled at a lady passing by and jokingly elbowed Amara to check her out, but beyond that, they never really brought it up.

The detective shook off the train of thoughts and focused on the current discussion topic.

"Haa, I was guessing more like he can, or has someone who can, see remotely. Scrolls through the people and observes the most interesting ones when they use their powers. If it was invisibility, I'd have noticed by now. Maybe there is someone, but they're making it so we can't notice them. Now, that'd be a bitch and a half."

He looked at Joker for his own explanation. He didn't ask at first, but figured Joker would come up with something of his own. Joker was a wild card, and it's not that Ben didn't trust him any less because of that, but rather, Amara was older and had more years on his belt, so if this business ever got passed down, Amara would be the first pick. It made sense to, even if in a weird sense, groom him for that.

Ben steepled his hands over his chair and, for the first time today, grinned. The conversation proceeded smoothly, giving him an opening to shift its track from 'business' to 'fun and games.' A chance to open up and socialize, even if purely for entertainment.

"Anyway, let's make bets. How long until some moron with a destructive card puts on a mask and starts going out in spandex to help old ladies across the street and trying to be a hero? I'm betting twenty dollars on 'this month or the next.' You two?"

Gaius Danius Griinia BackSet

 

[FireMaiden]

​

Location: Mulberry Flowers
Ineraction: Open
Mentioned: N/A
Today was already a little more busy than usual. And, if Lola rembered correctly, it wasn't even a holiday. So far, five different lawyers, a few business men, some women, and one confused looking teenaged boy had come in all asking for the Mulberry sampler bouquet, which had a touch of everything in it. Lola was the only one working the front today, though her manager had come out to help her when those three had come in all at once. Seriously, it was werid, why did everyone suddey get the urge for flowers? Not that it was a bad thing, it meant more money for the shop, and it meant a bigger pay check. Still, it was a little weird. Anyway, the rush of customers happened all at once, and after the first two hours of open doors, they began to trickle like normal. One of the most interesting things about Lola's job, at least in her opinion, is the fact you always become a part of someones life. At least, in a small way. Everyone who walks in those doors looking for flowers is looking for a reaon. You see pain and sadness, happiness, that one man who Lola is certian has two wives who are seeing each other behind his back and none of them know. Truly, an eventful life. For the moment, Lola was sweeping up petals, cut stems, and fallen leaves while the store was empty, huming a small song to herself. Focusing on the ground, her head only snapped up when she heard something fall from the other side of the room. Which wouldn't be an issuse, thing's were a little cramped, the store wasn't to big. But nobody else was inside.

So, broom in hand, Lola went to investigate. A stack of tissue wraps had been knocked off one of the tables, tahnkfully they were still in the packaging, as well as a some cards and two pens. And the culprit not a person, but a white cat with completely black eyes. Leo, Lola's childhood pet that died mysteriously years ago before she moved to New York as a little girl. He was sitying there proud as hell for getting her attention, just watching as she knelt down to pick everything back up, and he didn't even move when she put everything back. He only went to playfully swat at the fadded blue cat collar she was wearing as a braceltt. Ever since she had gotten that black card, she had Leo following her around everywhere. Which mean he was probably doing it befor hand as well. She had also started aeeing a bunch of weird stuff, and by weird stuff she means dead people. There are so many dead peopld hanging out in Manhattan, it's crazy. Makes since though. Anyway, Lola smiled and reached out to scratch his head, her hand meeting a soft chilly coat. She didn't notice many animal spirits wandering around, but most people didn't wear their keepsakes. Anyway, after aksing Leo to stop making messes, Lola went back to sweeping. She was now wondering if she could convince Jullian to order some Chinese food for lunch, and how to go about doing so.

 

[Twin Fantasy]

Name: Noemi Espejo
Location: Mulberry Flowers
Interacting with: FireMaiden

Every day was just another day.

A flat card of some sort in a black envelope came. It was slipped underneath her door. Noemi took one look at it and threw it in the garbage. One Black Card was enough for the next lifetime, and god only knew what'd happen if her goddamn roommate put his stupid hands on it. He sure as hell wouldn't be getting it. She conked out on the couch for about an hour until her goddamn roommate came by to bug her.

"Hey, Naomi."

"That's not... and you KNOW this is my half of the house."

"What's this thing?" He pulled out the black envelope. Noemi wrinkled her nose. It smelled like rat piss...

"I don't know, it's probably got anthrax in it so I threw it out."

"You're so neurotic." He opened it, and dropped it in Noemi's lap. "It's a Pokemon card, it's got Squirtle on it." Noemi balked a bit, looking at the Squirtle from all angles. Some kind of bullshit prank from one of the neighbors, no doubt. "What're you painting?"

"None of your business." Noemi stood. "I'm going out, if I come back and you're still on my half of the house I'll actually kill you." She grabbed her sketchbook and stormed out of the house, worked up into a lather like no other. That stupid asshole. Once she had a stable income, he'd be out of her life and on the streets. He could take his Playboy magazines and bottle cap collection with him, too.

The idea of getting another black card seemed fucking horrible to her. Sure, getting followed home by dogs was pretty cool, but whatever that thing had done, it wasn't kind to her in the slightest. In fact, on the way out of her own home, a bird swooped by and shat directly onto her forehead. Without much of any other choice, she veered into the nearest coffee shop and scraped it off in the women's bathroom.

She took a selfie for her Instagram and hit the town. She wanted something interesting to draw. First she went to the local pet shop and drew one of the lionhead goldfish before some snot-nosed kid came and began smacking his fucking grubby hands on the tanks. She spat in disgust and told him to treat other living beings with some respect, which pissed off his mother, and she had to make a run for it. Damn parents with their kids. Noemi once again vowed to never reproduce. If mom wanted more Espejo kids, no doubt she could get a boyfriend and make a couple before menopause kicks in.

On her search to find something to doodle, she eventually ducked into the local flower shop. Her face reddened... allergies.

Noemi pulled out her sketchbook and began to draw the tall, white lillies, despite her eyes watering and blurring. She sneezed once. Then twice, the second one particularly loud. It seemed to barely even take two seconds for it to reach this level. Had it always been this bad? No... it had to be the card's fault. God dammit. No allergy meds in pocket. Fuck, shit, son of a bitch.

She staggered over to the nearest person in a businessy apron, and prayed this conversation wouldn't last long. She vaguely recognized the girl from Purrfect Paws, so maybe the lady would help a dude out?

"'scuze bhe," Noemi wiped her nose. "Dhis' prob'ly a stubhid guestion buh, uh, Claritihn... allergy bhedication? If dhot, dhas' okay too." Her stuffed nose made her sound like a complete moron and she really kind of wanted to go back home and hide, but to risk dealing with her goddamn roommate again was outside of her interests completely.

 

[Safety Hammer]

JUDE DECKLAND
LOCATION: Threshold Recording Studios
INTERACTIONS: None

"Alright, you're sounding better, but let's take it from the top just one more time, Jude." The man in the recording studio said, his cracking voice coming through the microphone and into the sound booth. Jude Deckland had been in this booth for jours recording music for his next album, but it seemed that the creative juices have been drained after the first three preformances. So when his producer asked to re-sing a song again, the pop star rolled his eyes, and rubbed his forehead in annoyance.

"I don't think it has to be perfect, you know,"
Jude said, still holding his head. He didn't look exhausted, as much as he looked absolutely bored. "All we're doing is covering an already covered song to fill up a space on the album." The pop star complained, before shifting his weight and putting his hands on his hips.

"My man, we've talked about this nearly a thousand times." The producer said, sounding rather exasperated with the attitude of his client. "If you wanna make it big and stay relevant, you're gonna wanna put all you can into this album. No cutting corners. That'll get you nowhere. So just take it from the top, put it all out there, and them if it's good, you can go wherever you want for the rest of the day."

With that, Mr. Deckland sighed and signalled for the music, putting the headphones back on his head. As the symphonic music came on, he closed his eyes and slowly pictured that he wasn't in this stuffy booth. That he was really just alone. In the void.

"Birds flying high,
you know how I feel.
Sun in the sky,
you know how I feel.
Breeze driftin' on by,
you know how I feel.
It's a new dawn.
It's a new day.
It's a new life.
For me....
... And I'm feeling good."

 

[FireMaiden]

​

Location: Mulberry Flowers
Ineraction: Twin Fantasy
Mentioned: N/A
Lola, now finished with sweeping, was fixing a few of the displays when she heard the door open and the bell ring. She glanced up from the Crysanthymums, and was surprised to see a girl she could tell was even shorter than she was. Lola was five feet, one inch. She had to use a stool to reach most of the cabinets in her apartment, and capris were long pants, but this girl was short than her. Maybe it was an actual child. Or maybe, just maybe, Lola would be able to feel tall for once. The mysterious girl began to walk around the shop, before stelling down infront of the lillies with a book and a pencil, and since she wasn't bothering anyone, Lola figured it was best to just leave her alone. It was about tbis time another customer came in anyway. The blonde greeted the woman dressed in a grey pantsuit just like she greeted every other oaying customer. "Hi! Welcome to Mulberry, my name is Lola, what are you looking for today?" Voice bubbly, and with a smile. The woman was looking for a spcial bouquet for her daughter, a million pink wax baby's breath and white roses, which was a fairy simple order, but it meant she had to go in thr back for some burlap wrap. "One moment ma'am, I'll have to get something we don't keep out here." The woman didn't seem to mind, and with a glance to the other girl in the store, Lola dissapeared behind the employee only door.

Finding the three inch wide strips of burlap she was in search of was an easy task, and putting the flowers together was quick enough. What she did not expect however, as she was putting cash into the register, was the girl she was taller than was asking for some allergy medicine. "Oh, um yeah I do actully. But why did you come in a flower shop if you have reactions like this?" Lola asked, dropping down to grab her purse, a small backpack decorated on small catus and succulet designs. Digging through it, she pulled out a bottle of Zertec, and poured out a single pill for the girl. "It's not Clairitin, but it does the same thing," Lola said handing it over, "My allergies act up in here sometimes too, but not this bad. Are you sure you're gonna be alright?"

 

[peach moon]

Name: Juniper Rhee
Location: The Coffee Lab
Interaction: N/A

"Um... Juniper?"...Nothing. "Hello? Juniper? I need help with the essay prompt..." Still nothing. It seemed that the student had no other option than to give her a poke. "Ah!!!" Juniper started, bolting upright in her chair. "Wha-what?" She said, wiping a bit of drool from her face. She was still in TA hours, she realized. What had happened? She didn't remember. One student came for help and then no one showed up for a bit and... She must have conked out without realizing it, just sleeping right on the desk. Not only was it embarrassing, but it wasn't like Juniper to just crash during her office hours -- maybe she came a little unprepared from time to time, but she never slept through them! Well, whatever had happened, she had to help this student -- she didn't know the kid's name, but she recognized him from the Intro to IR class she was TA'ing. "Um... sorry." she mumbled. Wow, Juniper. Great recovery. "What can I do for you?" She asked, finally mustering the energy to hit him with her signature calm smile. That seemed to help a bit, the student seemed at least a little less pissed that June had been asleep. "Well... I was just wondering how many readings we needed to analyze? I felt like the Waltz reading was sufficient for neorealism..." he said, passing her the printed-out reading -- not that she needed it, she'd read it so many times by now. "Well, if you really pick it apart, I think just Waltz is fine. But be sure to also address constructivist counter-arguments to his theories." She said, hoping that would be enough to get rid of him. Despite her little nap, June was still insanely tired -- ever since that card had turned up, tucked into her notebook, her sleep habits had gotten weird, to say the least. Completely bizarre dreams, paired with constant exhaustion... it was actually quite problematic. Anyhow, luckily her short answer seemed to satisfy the student and he thanked her and ran off. Even more luckily, her office hours were just about over, so it was time for June to pack up her stuff and make a beeline to the coffee shop. There was work to be done, and crashing again as soon as she got back to her dorm was out of the question.

Even the walk to her favorite local cafe was near impossible for June's tired body, though passing by the local flower shop perked her up a bit. The displays were especially pretty today. Upon dragging herself inside the cafe, the barista flashed a grin. "Hey, Juniper. The usual?" He asked. "Yes, please. Caffeine, stat. Make it a double shot. No... triple? Thanks." She paid for her drink and waited for it to be ready, and finally collected it and collapsed into one of their nice armchairs. The first sip was heavenly -- she felt her tiredness melting away almost immediately. Rather than heading home with her coffee, she decided to stay at the shop and nurse her drink a bit -- she wasn't quite feeling up to walking again.

 

[Damafaud]

Lilian White

• 3 Minutes 58 Seconds at the Reception Desk
• Delphi Magic Society

• 
  
  
  
  

  Reception Desk - Xandria Library
  Reading a Manuscript; unreadable
  Interaction: -
  Mention: -​
  The name Xandria Library came from the city of Alexandria, the chief port of Egypt and its equally famous Library of Alexandria. The opening statement of 'History of Xandria Library' started as such.
  
  14:02:03
  
  Lilian was reading through a manuscript of the book while sitting idly behind the receptionist desk. Professor Archibald, the owner of Xandria Library, was quite old fashioned and distance from newer technology. He had trusted Lilian and his personal secretary to turn his note into a digital copy and also to provide him feedback on the content. Red ink annotated the manuscript here and there under Lilian's slender hand, filling the white paper with a colour other than black.
  
  The quiet and gentle atmosphere of the book sanctuary was broken by a peal of laughter. A baker dozen children burst through the door, too excited to heed a young man's words to keep words to whisper. Lilian put the manuscript aside and rapped her knuckle on the mahogany table.
  
  "Please be quiet in the library's floor."
  
  14:04:22
  
  Her voice was not raised. It was loud, stated in such a matter-of-factly way that the notion of being ignored couldn't be possible. The children started to shush among themselves, though giggles and flurry of whispers could still be heard. The young man urged the children to keep moving
  
  "Now, now. Hear what Miss White just say. Let's head to Magic Castle Room quietly, everyone. You too, Brian."
  
  Xandria Reading Club was established recently to rise interest in literacy among the neighbourhood's children. Today was one of the club meeting day scheduled by the club's adviser, Albert Truevin. The same young man who herded the kids toward one of the library's private room and was now smiling apologetically to Lilian.
  
  14:05:17
  
  "Sorry for all the ruckus. You know how children are."
  
  "Please keep the noises to the Magic Castle Room next time. We soundproofed every private room for a reason," said Lilian uninterestedly at the youth.
  
  Albert nodded politely. He started to leave before he suddenly halted and took something out of his front pocket. It was a leaflet.
  
  "Speaking of magic, what is this event about? And how come I've never heard of Delphi Magic Society before?"
  
  There was no change in Lilian's expression or tone, but if there had been no table between her and Albert, the latter would see that the slender hands that held a red pen was now twirling the pen furiously.
  
  14:06:01
  
  "You would naturally know of the society," answered Lilian "if you have the card and attend tonight."
  
• 
  
  
  
  

  Xandria Library
  Executing a Plan; calculating
  Interaction: -
  Mention: peach moon FireMaiden Safety Hammer Twin Fantasy Birdsie BackSet Gaius Danius Griinia​
  Lilian had received a Black Card at a weekday, a usual day, a what should be an unremarkable day. The Black Card changed the flow. She had concluded after performing several experiments of her own that the ability she received from the Black Card was real and not the result of hallucinogen, a dream, delusion, or sheer imagination.
  
  The Black Card was real. The powers given was real. Thus, based on the content of the letter that came with the cards, logically there should be others that possessed a Black Card. Her line of thinking was based on a sentence quoted from the letter and a simple fact. The sentence was 'change the course of humanity for better or worse'. The fact was the power from her Black Card was nowhere enough to fulfill the sentence's intention.
  
  There was a considerable number of intelligent individuals in the world, so her conclusion was nothing no one else could reach. Therefore, the existence of Black Card Holders that was looking for other Holders was established.
  
  How did Delphi Magic Society enter this matter?
  
  Over the week, Xandria Library had distributed about 800 flyers around the city and entrusted about 500 leaflets to stores around the city. On the street, in diners s, grocery stores, cafes, furniture stores, slipped on the windshield, on community announcement boards. The content of both flyers and leaflets could be summarised as follow:
  
  
  
  Have you received our special black magic card? Come join our New Initiate Orientation at Xandria Library Opulent Dance Room!
  
  Please enjoy our gift.
  
  With great prospects,
  
  ~M
  
  
  
  To general public, the advertisement would be glossed over as a community event. Some might be curious, but no further than that. Online search on Delphi Magic Society would bear no fruit, so it appeared to truly be a small community event that did not require any special consideration.
  
  To Black Card Holders, the advertisement contained several important key points. Black card. Please enjoy our gift. With great prospects. M. Those words, coupled with the strange symbols and letters decorating the edge of the ads, all pointed to one thing: the advertisement was talking about the Black Card. Rising the interest of the Holders was Lilian's main objective.
  
  Ah, right. Lilian was the creator of Delphi Magic Society.
  
  With the help of a designer friend, a small printing and stationary shop, and her authority as a librarian, she had established the presence of Delphi Magic Society at approximately a radius of 13 km around the Xandria Library. She also purposefully avoided using the internet. It left too many traces and attracted attention from too large of a community.
  
  If a Holder found the flyer, he would naturally thought of coming, or avoid it completely. It was alright. She only wanted to see if there was someone else that dared to come. Her main objective was to see if there was others willing to meet. And why would she want to meet others?
  
  Her Black Card had Thoth. She was a librarian. Being an observer of an unraveling story was only a matter of course.
  
  

 

[Remembrance]

Evan Ebbaneza

Evan’s morning is always the least fun of his day, waking up in his small apartment, his body still weak from sleeping more than 10 hours. The shifts at his job we’re getting shorter and shorter as the body count in his area lessened. He almost wished for some poor sods to be killed but that was asking for a lot. Mornings for Evan were usually all the same, suffering from dread and the sounds of morning yells. Cleaning himself up and mentally preparing to see the worst things imaginable. And generally hating himself for even waking up. Although Evan may seem to hate life or at least waking life, he can appreciate the good things about it. The wonderful food that makes his day just a bit more brighter, the people who understand life’s troubles and accepts them without complaint, and the people who are just generally nice. Accepting the ups and downs of life was just another thing apart of life. Luckily today, Evan wouldn’t need to do any of that. Today wasn’t for work, not even for stress. Today was for research and reading.

A quick commute and struggle of radio stations later. Evan eventually arrived at the library. Instead of browsing hundreds of shelves and perusing through thousands of books, Evan simply sat down at a table and pulled out his laptop. He knew that the library didn’t have anything on Arawn, maybe besides a set of stories in a fantasy setting and a book called the ‘Mabinogi’. The book for all he knew was considered basically fact for Welsh Mythology and it had little to offer for Evan. There may be no real Arawn then. Evan reached into his pocket, pulling out a black card. The whole mystery of this card centered around the name on the card. Arawn, just who are you?

Arawn wasn’t the god of curiosity nor was he was the god of knowledge, asking polarizing questions towards the god had unaffecting results. The deeper Evan got into the history of Arawn and welsh mythology, the more he found less and less canonical knowledge. The christianization of many mythologies harmed some of the many of the more important gods. Evan also considers that many of Arawn’s stories and tales were passed down through oral stories. A dilemma happened upon Evan. How was he ever going to find more information of Arawn? Was this a commune with the god and was Evan required to fulfill something to just get some more information? At this point, Evan considered heading home and taking some time off of his escapade of mythology. History was never really my strong suit anyways.

 

[Damafaud]

Lilian White

View attachment 567438

Xandria Library
Following a Lead; Interested
Interaction: Remembrance
Mention: -​

After the children from Xandria Reading Club entered their room, the library lulled back into sleep. Lilian did not return to her manuscript. She left the receptionist desk to a late librarian (he should have came at 2 o'clock) and headed toward a certain reading area.

Though it was called reading area, more people were using the tables there to open their laptops and surfed the internet than stacking up some books and reading. Lilian's interest fell on one of the many web surfers that had entered earlier in the morning. The young man did not stand out in term of appearance. His face was quite average and his hair was unkept. If not for the faint glow in his pocket, Lilian wouldn't notice him at all.

The faint glow meant magic.

Her Black Card, she noticed, had a faint glow, only observable in close proximity. When the man passed by her earlier, she thought she had seen something similar. Now that she saw it again, she was sure. It was also the same glow that appeared whenever she tried to check the time. The question now was to check whether the glow really came from a Black Card. What could she do? Lilian approached the man directly.

"Do you require any help, sir?"

Lilian bend her body slightly to lower her sight closer to the man. A quick glance to his screen revealed that the young man had looked into mythology of a welsh god. Pointing, but not a concrete evidence considering the nature of Xandria Library's collection. Lilian held her hands behind her back and tilted her head slightly to the right.

"Quite a few people have been looking into mythology recently."

A lie. And a bait. If the young man was truly what she suspected him to be, the bait should interest him.

 

[Safety Hammer]

• Jude Deckland
• M

• 
  
  
  
  Mentioned: Damafaud ​
  
  As Jude was leaving the studio in a huff after his producer had told him to do just one more take of the song, when he found a bizarre flier on the hood of his car. With a cocked eyebrow, he flipped over the paper and scanned it over. Black cards, huh? He had found one a few days ago of course, but it wasn't anything special, was it? The only reason why he kept it was because it was of Dionysus, his stage/band name. Then it clicked. This card must be an invitation to whatever amazing party that was taking place at some club named "The Xandria Library". With nothing better to do, he shrugged his shoulders and got into his car, determined to check out what he thought to be a party with an elaborate and exclusive invitation system.
  
  After getting changed back at his house, a few minutes of singing to The Backstreet Boys in the privacy of his Impala and driving to the address and location that the flier mentioned, he sent out a quick tweet detailing how awesome this party was gonna be. As he stepped out of his car and straightend out 3 piece purple suit, he walked through the front doors of the Library and readied himself for the paparazzi... that wasn't there.
  
  His photogenic smile wilted into a frown and walked over to the front desk and slammed the flier and his black card down on the desktop. "Hey, uh, I dunno if you're reception or something, but I got this invitation to some crazy party, right? And, uhh, I don't see anyone here???"
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  ​
  Eight-hundred fliers. Five-hundred leaflets. All of these had been distributed throughout Manhattan Island. Through all of the boroughs and to nearly every New Yorker who had the mental capacity to read them, everyone knew about the cards. And even worse, everyone knew it was because of M. And few things could infuriate them like being exposed.
  
  "This is a disaster." One man said as he tore a flier from a telephone pole and crushed it in his hand. Frantically digging into his pocket and retrieving a phone, before quickly dialing a number.
  
  "Sir, we have a massive problem."
  
  

 

[Kylesar1]

Malik Danderson Caldera
The Coffee Lab
​

Malik took a double shot of expresso that morning. He was hung over, yet had to deal with subordinates calling him. A night of debauchery, sex, and drinking left him dog tired that morning. He gathered himself as much as possible as the warm drink jumpstarted his stalling systems. Suddenly he felt like he was going to freaking die. Expresso wasn't something to fuck around with and he just took it raw, washing it down with nothing but life-sustaining oxygen. He found himself sweating profusely despite the temperature being fairly normal. At first he thought it was just anemia or something like that. It wasn't. He didn't just bleed and he never had these problems before........until he got his hands on that card. That.....that black card. The name on the card was Skadi, a figure he was a bit familiar with given his tendencies to engage all the nerdy ass coworkers under his rule. He always hated the summers, but gee whiz son. When the heat came in, it was TORTURE. He had to keep his air constantly running at 62 degrees at the HIGHEST. He now needed an iced coffee. Hot food was a no no to him. Colder food as much as possible.

Whatever........he needed to get himself together. It would look pretty bad if his superiors saw him acting like he was, and thinking like he did. He needed to be professional, right? Well, he was hung over and he didn't want to go to work, even less so than usual. He though he was the one who had the least amount of willpower until he saw a woman order a triple shot. She seemed familiar to Malik. Maybe she was at that party last night

He approached her, moving slyly and looking nothing like he wanted to pass out on the spot and go the fuck to sleep. "Oi, a triple shot? Are you uh.......are you trying to have a heart attack?" Malik's speech was deliberate and focused, only slightly tinged with teasing and he held out his drink in a sort of peaceful gesture. He tended to speak to people like he knew them, nonchalant like they were friends. "You look like you haven't slept in days."
peach moon

 

[peach moon]

Name: Juniper Rhee
Location: The Coffee Lab
Interaction: Kylesar1

Despite having sucked down a little bit more than half of her triple-strength latte, Juniper was still nearly falling asleep in her cozy little armchair. This was why, when an unfamiliar voice spoke to her, she immediately replied without thinking. "Not much of a partier," she replied groggily, "but weird things have been happening and I've been so tired ever since..." she trailed off, the gears in her brain slowly beginning to turn again, shaking off their dust, and she realized that she was not asleep, this was not a dream, and she had just unwittingly continued a conversation with a random stranger. June's eyes snapped open and she sat up, more alert, to look at the man that had addressed her. He had spoken to her in a familiar and casual manner, but the voice wasn't one she recognized. Upon looking at him, she became about 75% sure that she did not know this person -- he was dressed decently, but they didn't look to be work clothes, which checked out considering his seemingly laid-back attitude. He looked a bit older than her -- maybe another student? He certainly wasn't one of her students... Ugh... she didn't want to embarrass herself but her brain was foggy and she just couldn't figure out where she could know him from, so it had to be done. "Um, sorry... do I know you? Are we in a class together or...?" She trailed off, feeling unsure if she should continue this conversation or try to escape. He seemed to be sweating profusely too... this was all just too weird for Juniper.

 

[Gaius Danius Griinia]

Ren looked at the back and forth between the two detectives. They were older and so much more experienced than he was. The natural way they seemed to joke about this serious situation spoke volumes of their skill. Then there was Ren, who was still seriously going over everything in his head. Maybe it was because he was a rookie that he just couldn't join in on the fun. "Well Boss... I think that might be a serious issue. People may start using these cards to take the law into their own hands. In the hands of a reckless civilian, public order could be ruined. Not to say that I think myself better than the average civilian. I still struggle with how to use my new abilities too" said Ren as he paced across the room and lowered his trilby over his eyes. Ren wore a trilby as he still didn't feel like he was worthy of graduating to a fedora like the Boss and his grandfather.

Then Ren took Amara's previous hypothesis into consideration. As he was still in training, he could only offer a slightly different perspective to theirs. "It just might be magic. If it IS magic, I'm not saying it HAS to be. We may have to readjust how we see the world" said Ren as he viewed his hand. It briefly flared up with sinister looking shadows before returning to normal. "Criminals could be able to take advantage of police lack of knowledge on magic to use their powers to steal. Which may lead to civilians using THEIR powers to stop them. It could be complete and utter anarchy as people battle each other in the streets with these powers. Right now... I feel like stopping this ringleader from running this circus into the ground should be our top priority" Ren closed his fist with intensity. Then he looked at the two detectives and realizes he killed the mood. "Uhhhh....sorry... killed the mood...didn't I?" replied Ren, sheepishly.

Interactions: Birdsie BackSet

 

[Kylesar1]

Name: Juniper Rhee
Location: The Coffee Lab
Interaction: Kylesar1

Despite having sucked down a little bit more than half of her triple-strength latte, Juniper was still nearly falling asleep in her cozy little armchair. This was why, when an unfamiliar voice spoke to her, she immediately replied without thinking. "Not much of a partier," she replied groggily, "but weird things have been happening and I've been so tired ever since..." she trailed off, the gears in her brain slowly beginning to turn again, shaking off their dust, and she realized that she was not asleep, this was not a dream, and she had just unwittingly continued a conversation with a random stranger. June's eyes snapped open and she sat up, more alert, to look at the man that had addressed her. He had spoken to her in a familiar and casual manner, but the voice wasn't one she recognized. Upon looking at him, she became about 75% sure that she did not know this person -- he was dressed decently, but they didn't look to be work clothes, which checked out considering his seemingly laid-back attitude. He looked a bit older than her -- maybe another student? He certainly wasn't one of her students... Ugh... she didn't want to embarrass herself but her brain was foggy and she just couldn't figure out where she could know him from, so it had to be done. "Um, sorry... do I know you? Are we in a class together or...?" She trailed off, feeling unsure if she should continue this conversation or try to escape. He seemed to be sweating profusely too... this was all just too weird for Juniper.

Malik Deanderson Caldera
The Coffee Lab​

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a napkin and sat down, leaning back in his chair. So he didn't know this woman...... Not much of a parter, she says, so she wasn't there last night. "Hmmmm. I suppose we don't know each other then. However, you're in a state that could be hazardous to your own health. Like you've been roofied or something." Roofies, man. He had been roofied so many times, it'd take an overdose to knock him out. This wasn't normal drowsiness. This woman wasn't drifting in and out of consciousness. It seemed to him more like fighting comatose.

"I can't, as a senior leader, let you get in a car or something and drive. If need be, I can..... " He paused as he processed the first bit of what she said. Plus, he wasn't about to offer to drive her anywhere or suspicions could fall on him. After how the blackmail he put on some of his leaders and the fact that he seduced a CEO's son, a scandal would end him. He was true about not letting her drive. If he saw her on the news for a fatal car accident, it would weigh on him. "Wait...... Ever since what weird thing happened?" He looked at the name on the cup. Juniper. Well..... Guess he was about to be talking to Juniper for a while. He waved his hand in her face. Her triple shot seemed to have an immediate effect of about 10 seconds.
peach moon