Realistic or Modern [Scion] The Steam Dragon's Lair

[Epiphany]

Maia's eyes narrow at Raul's reaction. "Everything you say makes me more nervous about this. So I'll make it simple for you." She grips the amulet tightly in one fist. "You've two choices, Raul. You can tell me what's really going on here and maybe I give you the amulet. Or I walk out the door and you never see either of us again."


Her other hand makes a fist and, though she's keeping a netural pose in her chair for the sake of the guards, her knuckles pop audibly. "Unless you want to take door number 3 and try taking it from me. If I were you, I'd go with door number 1."

 

[Esbilon]

Raul pulls himself together with a sigh and narrows his gaze on Maia. "No," he says, crossing his arms, "Luis was wrong about you. You're not here to help us out. You can't be trusted, and now you're going to get me, him, yourself and probably a whole lot of other people in deep shit just because you're nosy and stubborn as hell."


"I know, right," Theodore says with a chuckle, "those Harvard and Yale kids don't know what they're missing. Mmm," he muses studying June's face for a moment, "you never told me your name, but I can't help feeling like I've seen you before."

 

[Arynne]

"June Pavoni," says June blandly.


Her bright smile is wide and crystal-white...and it fucking dares him to say anything bad about her mother.

 

[Esbilon]

"Nope," Theodore says after a moment of looking thoughtful and unfazed by June's not-quite-hostility. "And it's even a quite remarkable name, Italian, right?"

 

[Arynne]

"Right," says June, her momentary flare of belligerence vanishing as quickly as it came. She smiles again, a much friendlier expression. "I looked it up -- it means 'peacock'."

 

[Esbilon]

El Dorado Hills, Sacramento Metropolitan Area


[media]



[/media]
Four young women find themselves in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar part of a city that is not quite as big as it would like to be. Their host has yet to show himself, and whoever he is, he has expensive taste. The den in which they have been led to is richly decorated with liquor cabinets as varied as their contents are costly, bookcases not-quite-overflowing with first editions, and high-backed leather chairs arranged in a circle around a round table. Despite its opulence, the room does not seem made specifically to impress its guests, it is merely where the owner keeps his drinks and his books, and furnished with the kind of chairs he likes best. The room has a peculiar smell, almost like lightning had struck close by, turning the oxygen in the atmosphere into ozone.


June was asked to come here by her boss. After returning from her mostly uneventful (though that Theodore fellow did give her his number) visit to San Quentin, Max, the rather handsome man she works directly for, approached her looking slightly awkward. "Look, June," he began ominously, "you know there are a lot of applicants to these internships, right?" She nodded, feeling worry begin to creep into her, "well, when we were down to the short list, you and four others, we got a call," he fiddles with a business card and sighs slightly. "A call from Raymund Young. The man himself," he adds, emphasizing just how big a deal it is that the head of Young & Associates, the biggest single law firm in the city picked up the phone on her behalf. "And he talked the DA's ear off about how impressed he was with you. He said he knew you through your mother." Max shrugs, almost guiltily, "well, after that it was a pretty short discussion." He hands over the card, it is a simple white thing with 'Young & Associates' on the front, a hand-written address and time on the back, and a doodle of a peacock, "today this came for you. I figured you deserved to know what's what."


For Maia, the situation is quite different. She was in her office when a new client walked in, all very regular. Well, except for the woman herself. She was tall, maybe closer to seven than six feet, broad-shouldered and with an easy confidence that spoke of being continuously challenged and continuously victorious. Her hair was long and blond, and her piecing blue eyes spoke of an intelligence entirely unlike her body-builderesque physique. To make matters more confusing, she was dressed in black leather pants and jacket, with a heavy metal t-shirt carrying a viking motiff visible under the jacket. She booked a meeting at a house in one of the up-scale neighbourhoods by the lake, and left a business card. White with 'Young & Associates' on one side, and a hand-drawn doodle of a cat on the other.


Amy has always been focused on her art, and she has always been good at it, magnificent is a word that has been used, awe-inspiring too. This has caused her fellow practitioners to treat her as a kind of distant ideal, rather than a sparring part. Her taciturn nature and tendency to thoroughly beat the crap out of anyone who challenges her has made her somewhat isolated in the small dojo. So when an imposing blonde shows up and walks right up to Amy with a confident grin on her face, it is a welcome, if suspicious, change of pace. After a long and exhausting bout, the woman smiles and says "you're not bad," as she hands her a business card with 'Young & Associates' on the front, and a hand-written address and time on the back as well as a doodle of a monkey brandishing a bo staff. "We should do this some other time."


Carrie was nervous about her new status. What if her superiors found out what had happened to her? What if they already knew, and were moving behind the scenes to find the perfect opportunity to make her... disappear? It was a terrifying thought, almost worth the risk of deserting. But... that would mean giving up on her plane, her squadron and her duty. Could she do it? For now, there was the more pressing matter of the investigation into her taking her plane away from its exercise route and firing her machine gun without authorization. Tentatively, she knocked on the door to her JAG lawyer's office. The man himself was an imposing, but comforting presence. A tall, black man made almost entirely of muscle and smiles, Brian Hebert has the kind of presence that makes one think that everything will be all right. He assures her that everything will work out OK, but in the mean time, there is someone she should meet, and he hands her a business belonging to a civilian law firm, 'Young & Associates.' On the rear side of the card, there is a hand-written address and time, and a doodle of a monkey hang gliding.


Now they are all assembled, and apparently, their host is in no rush to join them. Instead, tey have each other's company, a lot of fancy booze, a library to make librarians weep, and a polite instruction to "make yourselves at home."

Spoiler

The individual pitches are just openers, feel free to embellish on them within reason

Oh, and the mysterious blonde's name is Matilda.

 

[Arynne]

June Pavoni

In one corner, June Regina Pavoni carefully blots her lipstick. It is a cherry red shade chosen to nicely accent her dark pink jacket.


June is a tall young woman with what some would call a stereotypical California girl look: bright blonde hair, stylishly coiffed; blue eyes framed by dark brown lashes, skin with just enough tan to look "outdoorsy" rather than "pasty" or "leathery" and perfectly accessorized apparel from the latest popular designer. The only thing that mars this ensemble is her chin -- it's just a little too pronounced, a little too "stubborn", to make the image of a doll-faced blonde Valley Girl work...


"So," she says, putting her makeup kit away, "shall we all introduce ourselves? I'm June, and I'm a student at Berkeley. Are you all students too? This seems awfully flashy just to impress a bunch of students...omigawd, we're all girls! Is that weird or what? Do you think he has some icky reason for inviting girls here, or is that just a coincidence? Because I am so out of here if he does."

 

[FeMChara]

The young woman who came in was brown-haired, eyes behind aviator glasses. She wore a black navy pilot's jacket with a fur-like collar and a number of patches. She wore jeans, boots and her hair was tied back into a neat ponytail. She moved with excellent economy of movement-nothing wasted, no twiddling. She looked asian-for those with the eyes to look, she looked vaguely Chinese, though not entirely. She took a cup of whiskey and knocked it back before sitting with a cup of wine she would nurse more slowly. She isn't exactly dainty. She looks at June calmly. "Well. I was sent here by my JAG lawyer. Herbert said there was someone I needed to meet." She took a sip off her cup. "The name's Ensign Carrie Valiant. Yeah, for real." She gets that question a lot.

 

[Epiphany]

The next young woman to make her entrance is probably the most nondescript of the lot. With a slightly darker complexion, wispy brown hair and eyeliner-accented brown eyes, she's dressed rather mundanely in a tan coat over a pink t-shirt with "Jem and the Holograms" embossed on the front. Blue jeans, sneakers and a blue pulldown stocking cap make her seem little more than a stray college student or perhaps a young working stiff on an off-day.


The look of the other two who'd arrived gives her pause. There's a brief flash of careful calculation on that Egyptian face. Then she flashes a smile as she makes the first move.


To the liquor cabinet.


"Nice to meet you June. Carrie. Charmed!" A nod to each of them. "I'm Maia. Maia Asim. And no, not a student either. Well, not anymore. This place is rather lovely don't you think? I might have gone a different way with the decor but our host has excellent taste in his choice of refreshment. Icky intentions or not, he did say we could make ourselves at home. I'll give you a pour, shall I?"


The accent is unmistakably London. Maia looks completely unconcerned with the ambiguity of the situation.

 

[Arynne]

"What if it's, I don't know, drugged or something?" says June doubtfully, though she eyes the brand labels with interest.

 

[Esbilon]

June's introduction to expensive liquor labels came from her father's collections. Not that the man really knew what he was doing, he had a tendency to just throw money at whatever had the biggest numbers on it and were from the most prestigious regions. The mysterious Mr. Young's collection is more varied, containing both (ridiculously) expensive classics of the genre, and more controversial experiments from around the globe and the ages.

 

[Epiphany]

With a single arched eyebrow at June, Maia slowly smiles, cat-like.


"If it is drugged, I expect he'll be very, very sorry, won't he." Her smile doesn't flicker in the least but her tone makes it perfectly plain that she's making a threat and seems to have no compunction about carrying it out.


"Besides, I can't imagine our host would bollocks up a collection this fine. Easier ways to drug a few girls." Giving the other two women an appraising look, she adds "Easier girls out there to drug too, I expect."


At that, she pours herself a thumb's length of one of those ridiculously expensive classics and begins to slowly sip it.

 

[Arynne]

"You're probably right," June admits. "Well, he could drug me, maybe, but when my she-peeps found out about it, they'd totally kick his butt." With that cheerful assessment, she pours herself a shot of Golden Apple brandy.

 

[Epiphany]

"Right, so what's your story then?" Maia briefly glances over the Ensign before focusing on the blonde student. "I don't suppose you're actually the client are you? Because it occurs to me a company called Young & Associates might actually be a third party here. Perhaps one of you is the real client. How is it you came to be here, if you'll pardon me asking?"

 

[Arynne]

"Well, if this meeting's on my behalf, it's the first I've heard of it," says June. "I'm here because Raymund Young recommended me for the internship I'm in now. Said he knew me through my mother, which is interesting, because I'm never met him...that I can remember, anyways." She fishes the business card with the peacock on out out of her purse and shows it to the others. As she leans forward, alert observers may notice the similarity of the design to the earrings she's wearing.

 

[FeMChara]

Carry bit her lip a moment and took a deep breath. "I was aimed here by my JAG lawyer. Supposed to meet someone, dunno who. I got a card just like that." She took it out and turned it over, showing the hang-gliding monkey. "Nice earrings, by the way. I'm a Navy pilot. Signed up in college after a friend of mine showed me to a flight instructor. The two lasted eight months but I fell in love with the sky. So much is so small up there and you can move so freely..." She spoke with clear passion. She flushed a bit at that. "It's a great honor to fly for my country. More to the point, I was on a flying exercise and saw something weird. I investigated and shot on it without permission. That is not really kosher, so I might be in big trouble. I had to, though! Well, at least I met dear old dad out of it." She sighed, a bit of irritation touching her face. "Would have been nice to meet him earlier but what can you do." She shrugged.

 

[Epiphany]

"Really now."


Maia's coffee-colored eyes switch between June and Carrie, sudden speculation flashing across their surface. "Well, that's interesting. I understood there was a potential client here. I'm a Licensed Investigator with the State of California. I contract with Ironside Investigations though I do independent work as well. Haven't had much to do with the military, though," she says, peering at Carry. "Or with internships."


"Curiouser and Curiouser," she says after a lengthy pause and another sip of her drink of choice.


"It seems fair to lay our cards on the table, though, so I think I shall." At which point, she holds up her own Young & Associates card, complete with its hand-drawn doodle of a cat on it. "Meow," she adds, mischievously playful.

 

[FeMChara]

"And here I was, thinking I would only see card tricks in Vegas." Carrie deadpanned.

 

[Epiphany]

"They're not my cards but that of our host, no? Perhaps he's the magician."


Maia chuckles as she finishes off her thumb's length of liquor. "I'd love to know how you managed to meet your father by shooting someone down, though, Ensign. Sounds like a story or two there!"

 

[FeMChara]

That was the smallest of wry smiles on Carrie's face. "Yes, well dad? He either follows trouble or trouble follows him. They often end up finding one another quickly. Trouble seems to be following me fairly easily, too now." She spoke bashfully. "Trouble needs a home, I suppose."

 

[Arynne]

"I can, like, totally relate to that," says June with a sigh. "Only with my mom and me, 'Trouble' usually has no neck, wears a dirty white shirt and has a drinking problem. Oh, was that TMI?"

 

[Esbilon]

"Not at all, Junedaughter," says a smiling says a light, almost androgynous voice, interrupting the three women's conversation. "I think you'll find that your lovely companions, and myself for that matter, are made of sterner stuff than most."


When the speaker finally steps into view, it is clear that Raymund Young is not exactly what one would expect of a successful career lawyer. Though his silken three-suit is immaculate, the sword he carries at his left hip is less than fashionable, and his use of a Thor's Hammer necklace to keep his tie in place is also rather unorthodox. What is, perhaps, most surprising is that Raymund Young lives up to his name, he does not look a day over 19, much less like someone whose name has been thrown around in Northern California's elite circles for years, even decades. His fiery red hair and bright blue eyes speaks to his heritage as a child of the Aesir, however his hairless chin and slender frame are quite at odds with most people's view of a Scion of the Thunder God.


"I am, as you nave no doubt surmised, Ramund the Young, and I am very pleased to welcome you all into my home. It appears you have made yourselves comfortable," he continues with a smile in Maia's direction, "but I am sure you are all eager to know why I have called you all here. It is quite simple actually, I would like to pay you, in cash, favors, information or whatever you like, to stop the forces of chaos from messing up my city while I am unavoidably occupied elsewhere. In particular, I have leave for the Overworld tomorrow morning, and there's a titanically-backed gang war brewing. I'm sure you understand my concern."


While speaking, he has made his way to the bottle Maia has started on, and now pours himself a glass before turning to the assembled Scions. "Any questions?"

Spoiler

Amy is retroactively absent from the room. Since you never interacted with her, this has minimal impact. If

@Mei wants to return to the game later, she's more than welcome

 

[Arynne]

"Like, more information, please," says June. "Who are these gangs and who's backing them?"

 

[Epiphany]

"Well, I may have some small insight on that matter given my background," Maia says, her crisp London accent somewhat at odds with her claim. There's just a brief moment of wariness in her eyes at the sight of Ramund the Younger, perhaps due to his dress or more likely due to his comment about the Overworld. "Perhaps I should say, I'm not altogether unfamiliar with the mortal players involved. Or could be, given a bit of asking around of some old friends."


"Your question on who's backing them, though, is spot on," she says with an approving nod to June. "To it, I'd add my own; namely how the devil do you know about us?" Her gaze tracks back to Ramund and she holds up the cat-embossed business card. "Not that I really expect an answer to that. Magicians have their secrets and all that rubbish."

 

[Esbilon]

"I am," the young man replies to Maia first, "to the best of my knowledge the most powerful Scion of any god in Sacramento. I make it my business to know who else is around. I also make it known among various minor and major immortals that I repay anyone kind enough to point people I don't know out to me generously. As to the matter at hand," he says, turning his attention to June, "I know that Mikaboshi, an aspect of the Titan of Darkness is involved. I've had some feelers out in the Asian communities, but have been unsuccessful in finding a trace of him there. Perhaps he is working through less obvious intermediaries, perhaps he has fooled the agents I sent."