Einstein, int+computers, and Crowley, wits+occult, please.
This is for adding a Search Category to the thread.
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1suxx!
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Through the magic of the twenty first century Einstein is able to pull a precise sequence of numbers from the vast electrical matrix which hangs in the air itself, numbers which, when scribed upon the face of her communication device with naught but a touch, can attempt to summon the voice of Leeba Bachman to her ears! After all, there are a surprising number of ways to find information about people nowadays, all but for the very, very careful or the very, very resourceful. It seems that Bachman is not either.
As for the true magic which Crowley bends his will towards, he soon discovers a thread which connects to both the pictures within the building as well as himself and his cabal, and this is most likely the connection that would lead to Leeba Bachman. Thankfully, there is not much traffic on the road, so it seems that he might be able to guide a driver safely to wherever her address might be.
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Einstein smiles as she loads up Bachman's number into her phone and saves it in her contacts. Anyone could wipe her memory, and she wanted to hedge her bets of remembering the number if someone did. Paranoia? Perhaps. She looks at the others. "I have her number. I'll giver her a call, and set up a meeting, I guess?" She doesn't exactly wait for their approval, pressing the green CALL button and setting the magnificent machine against her ear.
Call happens here: http://nwod.org/forum/showthread.php...861#post400861
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"So..." starts Truce, having heard half of the phone conversation. "Any luck?" The question is vaguely applied to Crowley as well who seems to be lost in thought after having muttered what Truce could only assume was High Speech.
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Einstein looks at her phone, puzzled, then stuffs it in her pocket, and looks at Truce, shaking her head. "Nothing, though, on the plus side, we know she's at home. I think. Unless she's sleeping over at someone else's place." Hey, it was possible. She was an artist. "I did get another name, though. Johann. Some sort of...manager, I think. Or a partner." She looks at Crowley. "You get anything?"
A wicked, wicked grin. It grows and grows until it threatens to fall off his face - a leering, demented, cheshire grin. With effort he brings it back under control and it shifts, morphs into an enigmatic smile of contentment.
"Maybe. I found a connection of some sort. It might be her. Goes that way..." He gestured definitively in a vague, circular, gesture. "Thats if you want to go for a drive?"
Cayce liked this post
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"Oh. Umm, okay," says Truce, feeling rather uncomfortable at the sight of Crowley's grin. "But then she's not alone, is she? I suppose if she's not expecting us that we'll be at an advantage there. But what's our plan when we find her? Are we going to question her? Subdue her? She hasn't truly done anything to harm us, and if she's only interested in displaying our visages in paintings perhaps she can be dissuaded from showing them, or maybe we could even purchase them before they go on display."
Even as he speaks, Truce is opening his car again and returning his bag to one end of the backseat and getting behind the wheel of the car.
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"Yes, we need to find her." Einstein spoke with confidence, surety. There were new things in place. "Even if she doesn't mean to hurt us, these paintings are sympathetically linked to us. We wouldn't want a Banisher or worse to just walk into the Gallery and use one to attack us, or find us, right?" Right. "When we find her, we just need to talk to her. Find out how she got our faces, why she painted them." She hops into the back seat with Truce's bag. "Let's go."
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