(Welcome to the Cortez) Diners

[Cayce]

Several blocks away from where the Circle of Creation rose in its occluded majesty sat the simple, square frame of the Diner. At some point the neon that had once fueled its blaring sign had burnt out, leaving the true name of the diner lost to the gloom. It simply sat as a beige kingdom filled with cracked rubber booths, outdated menus, and coffee strong enough to dissolve tar. A number of regulars with just enough money to go out to eat, and not enough money to go anywhere else, were scattered like forgotten dolls around the dining area, and the occasional staff member drifted by like the walking dead, nicotine fingers clearing plates, and purple ringed eyes staring blankly at the cash register.

The diner was crushing in its banality, a decaying remnant in a decaying world, and something insidious and horrible had happened here, something that had already left its mark, though who was there to truly notice?

[Campanella]

Campanella returns to the scene. Oddly, his step is light and the corners of his mouth are pulled up, ever so slightly. One might have assumed that going back to the place where he had last seen the two Renegade mages would have weighed on the Moros. In fact, doing so sent a thrill through the Mystogogue, as if at last he was doing something rather than passively sit in his webs, watching the world pass him by.

Campanella wanted to know more of the mysterious mages. He wanted to know if he had over-reacted - if, indeed, the pair really were the threat he had initially supposed them to be. Time, confusion, and overthinking had perhaps eroded the sense of confused suspicion that he had first felt in their presence.

The Moros did not envision this investigation taking too long. He wove simple spells: his standard rote armour and an improvised Sight opening his Third Eye. The Arcana of the Mind were still unfamiliar to the Moros but he really wanted to get a feeling for the mental imprints the strange pair had left behind. He wanted answers.

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2018-03-31 22:28:37		Campanella to cast Third Eye rolls 6 to Gnosis + Mind - 1 Tolerance (10 Again, WillPower)		9, 1, 3, 9, 7, 9		3 successes
2018-03-31 22:27:41		Campanella to cast Unseen Aegis rote rolls 10 to Intelligence + Occult + Order Spec + Matter (10 Again)		10, 9, 9, 3, 8, 9, 6, 7, 7, 5, 9		6 successes

[Winter]

When the Epopt had ordered him to drive to Sacramento and keep absolute secrecy, he complied. 45 hours and over 3 thousand miles later, he had finally reached his destination. His orders were to standby and wait for further instructions. A deadrop lift. He concluded. Must be something important.

He remains in his car parked in front of a an anonymous and squallid diner, savouring the silence, the darkness of the evening only occasionally cut by the lights of a passing car. He toys with his phone. I should inform the local Consilium. He reflects, pulling out the number of his contact, before his gaze is drawn out the reverie. In the distance, a lone figure is slipping through the doors of the chophouse. A grumble. "Time to eat something, I guess". He makes his move.

[Cayce]

I'm going to try to update every 24 hours. Me or Saber Sloth, as we are Co-Tormenting you all

The two Magi are almost unnoticed as they enter the Diner, even the waitstaff who are busy executing whatever menial, soulsucking tasks that are before them. It is little wonder that a small cross, in either silver or gold, gleam upon the throat every server, and even the chef visible through the Kitchen's service window.

Of course, Winter has something else on his mind, as a chill races down as his spine as he comes to stand next to the refined gentleman who had entered just before him. It was the chill of his namesake, the touch of freezing ice, and it was a sign he had felt before: the sign of magic.

For Campanella, his eyes, or rather, his Third Eye glimpses something rather odd about some of the patrons, and all of the staff. Dimly, he remembers seeing them here the day the woman with cruel talons and a laugh that he knew was shrill, even if the soundwaves had been swallowed before they could reach him, had casually set fire to the remains of her own abyss touched blood. It seems that, even though none had witnessed the vulgar magic at work, something inside them had still felt it, and recoiled. They were almost in a walking fugue, their minds seeking shelter from what they could not comprehend. They would come back to themselves, soon, and perhaps remember something frightening from their nightmare, or perhaps rejoice at finally having come alive. Regardless, it was clear that something had spilled over to touch their minds, even if there were no glyphs hovering on their auras.

[Campanella]

Campanella plays it cool. He walked in, took a slow take of the diner before finding himself a spot in the corner. Once ensconced, he ordered coffee and toyed with the menu while taking the opportunity to scan the area once again. And the menu served to hide his disappointment when his efforts found nothing else to work with in the welter of damaged Sleeper auras.

  

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2018-04-02 01:09:37		Campanella to Scrutinise the Diner rolls 5 to Intelligence + Occult (10 Again)		3, 5, 3, 6, 5		failure

"Hello. I should say, take a seat. Coffee is good. I guess you could try the bacon and eggs. Or a burger."

Campanella sounded disappointed as he looked up at Vauban's arrival.

"The chickens are still spooked but I can't see anything that would stop them recovering their usual... poise. Of course, the trail is completely confused and I can't make anything useful out."

He sighed, shifted in the lumpy seat.

"Can I have a coffee for my friend here. Thank you."

The movement of the staff allowed Campanella to clumsily clock Winter's presence but not his significance*.

@Winter Vincent I note the Occultation and the current lack of spells

[Aurora]

The red GTO finally finds the diner. And then finds a parking spot, which isn’t really easy to do.

In walks the Shaman, a black leather coat on, black tank top and blue jeans. Her blonde hair was a little messy and windblown, but she didn’t seem to notice.

She really didn’t want to have an all-out brawl with rogue mages in a public diner. Last public brawl was in a Starbucks and left them with some interesting damage. Though she wonders how they explained it?

Her month spells were in place, and blue eyes settle on Campy first. A more familiar face than Vauban was.

Walking over, she finds herself a seat and orders a coffee. Cause she worked best fully caffeinated.

Smiling, “Have I missed anything exciting?” she asks.

Aurora has monthly rits in place...Mage Site(Pulse of the Living World) and Mage Shield(Organic Resilience) plus her dedicated magic tool on her wrist

[Hamia]

Hamia makes her way through the door of the diner like a cornered animal, dodging a man here and offering an "Excuse me..." and catching her bag against a banister there. It's a dance and an act; a shift of her hand here and a careful tracing there. Her anxiety is real, though. She's wary and tense and itching for a reason to unleash hell on some taloned creep and her bob-cut friend.

  6 successes

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2018-04-02 15:57:16		Hamia rolls 4 to Gno + Time for Temporal Eddies (10 Again)		10, 10, 8, 3, 9, 10, 8		6 successes

  2 successes

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2018-04-02 15:59:38		Hamia rolls 4 to Gno + Time for Mage Armor (Time, 2E) (10 Again)		3, 3, 10, 9, 3		2 successes

Cool it, Lindsey. She puts on a calm, but serious face after her internal chide. War is easier than peace, in her mind, but she reminds herself not to jump the gun. They're here to follow up on a lead. Nothing more.

She notes three familiar faces and the smell of coffee. She breaths a sigh, allowing a small hint of a smile. Aurora... doesn't realize they're friends yet. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic." She doesn't waste time dropping greetings. She just swiped up a menu, grabs a seat near the others and flags down a waitress. "Coffee, please."

That settled, she asks - mostly for Campanella - "What are the chances they'll come back here? Seems like wishful thinking."

[Winter]

It was meant to be a wrap; make a beeline for the most secluded booth and order something edible, eat, pay in cash and get the hell out, or so he thought.
Yet, from the very instant the ammoniacal smell of pink sludge and cheap coffee launched their horrific onslaught on his nostrils, he knew he was in for a jenga tower of mishaps. Call it sixth sense.

It wasn't just for the sunken faces of the staff, more victims drawn in by the vast soulsucking reverie of American capitalism. The corporate garden needed to be watered with the blood and the sweat of the innocents, after all.

No, these people were odd, pure ennui, silent to almost a fault and... They are wearing crosses? The hand in his pocket reflexively traced the string of beads there contained.

He walks towards his destination across the room, shifting his focus from the staff to the patrons and the dignified gentleman in particular. It was a rarity to see someone so well dressed and here of all places. Makes me look like a bum, I need a shower too.

And then, as he closed in on the man's position, it hit him like a truck. A cold shudder down his spine, his body's flight or fight response; as if every fiber of his being was telling him to scram or suit up for a fight. Paradox uh?

The harrowing signs of Unreality stung through. He should leave, he thought. It's not his city and the locals could surely handle such matters, besides he had a Councilior to contact. But he can't let it slide. It's my dinner for heaven's sake!

Putting as much space as possible between the man and himself, he sits down at an empty booth and grabs a greasy menu. With feigned indifference he looks at the man, studying him, thankful that the lack of defensive rituals hadn't alerted Mr. GQ. Spycraft is like chess, and right now he was playing black.

It's a cold war, neither of us can do anything but wait. If the man was a willworker, he was unable to discover, yet careful analysis was a must.

"Boiled eggs and a tea, lemon". He tells the bored waitress that had just come to pick his order. Simple food, for those unwilling to try their luck and pay their toll to this temple of saturated fat and grease.

And then another surprise, as another man shoals himself beside Esquire, just like an acquaintance would. The scene would have been unremarkable if not for the sheer statistical oddity of these two and a Paradox occurring at night, in such a low-brow venue.

Could they be friends? Perhaps High-Fashion's car has left him stranded and Mr. B has come to the rescue? His mind kept returning to his gut feeling, the lingering resonance of Paradox had to be explained somehow, and he was more than willing to pay heed to his guts. Intuition had kept him alive more than once.

Distracting his focus for a second, he pulls his Iphone out and taps the display a few times before hitting send. Hopefully this Councillor knows his stuff.

The diner's doors are pulled open again, interrupting his investigation and triggering an automatic response in search of a gun that isn't there, yet another victim of California's draconian firearms laws. "Damn this liberal hippie bullshit".

And then he sees her, flawless and gracious as she makes a beeline for Esquire and Mr. B, partaking in their chatter and dining. Blonde, tall, leggy, heartshaped lips framed by a perfect face and impeccably dressed to boot, straight out of Vogue. This woman spoke of centuries of natural selection, perfect breeding and California's temperate weather patterns. The kind of person that you would never see in a place like that.

No, this can't be another coincidence. Finally, the sudden realization that he was in a deep pile of shit hit him like a truck. A fist is clenched.


"Fuck me". A throaty growl.

  Diner and Paradox perception

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2018-04-02 15:15:15		Winter rolls 6 to for Eyes of the Abyss rolls Wits + Composure (10 Again)		5, 5, 6, 2, 1, 6		failure
2018-04-02 15:08:27		Winter rolls 6 to Observe the diner rolls 6 to Wits + Composure (10 Again) (10 Again)		6, 9, 7, 4, 6, 8		2 successes

[Cayce]

Vauban learns that, whatever magic was being so flagrantly thrown around in the Diner, it was something with a very light resonance, as so far, there was absolutely nothing jumping out at him aside from the cutlery, which appeared to be an assortment of good ol' American made stainless steel, likely from before the Second Great War.

Aurora learns that, despite the grungy appearance of the diner, it's A health rating is well earned. She's seen more invisible life squirming in some upscale restaurants than she sees here. Apparently there was some reason besides the price that justified the Diner having survived this long. Besides, it looked like they made a mean avocado vegetarian salad.

Hamia , however, is distracted by a massive distortion in the back of the restaurant, the natural eddies of time being snared and dragged into a death-roll vortex that she hasn't seen since the last election. It was obviously a natural occurence, not a temporal manipulation, but something absolutely monumentous occured in that back booth. It almost hurt to look, the way the threads of time were being twisted...

Campanella The waitress nods to him and quickly brings another cup of coffee for Vauban. It seems that the sudden influx of people has spurred the staff into something resembling responsiveness. And, as she turns and walks away, he remembers that she happened to be the unfortunate waitress attending the manic, taloned woman and her older companion that day...

Winter The chill races up his spine again. There is active magic in the Diner.