Official Consilium 1808

[Campanella]

"It would appear so." Campanella responded quietly to the Guardian.

Face grim and expressionless, Campanella settled to watch. He opened his Sight with a few curt gestures.

  

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2018-07-24 03:45:54		Campanella to cast Prime Sight rote rolls 7 to Wits + Occult + Order Spec + Prime (10 Again)		9, 6, 10, 4, 1, 8, 4, 6		3 successes

[Banshee]

"Vauban," she says, nodding in a facsimile of a greeting. Eyes focused upon Epitaph and the Duel she is engaged in. The gutted, rotted corpse, vision clouded green feels blinders torn and shredded. This wasn't the placed calmness of the quiet, this was raw and restless. The unquiet dead barrel forward, directed by Epitaph's fervor, and ferocity. Unthinking and fuelled whatever caused this Duel to be called.

Death comes for us all. A certainty, a Truth. But there was more to Death then this unthinking, rotted rage.

Epitaph was going to lose.

[Weavebreaker]

Weavebreaker attention was on the combatants, though she was aware enough to return a wave to Langdon . She sat with her arms folded across her chest as she mostly remained focused on the Duel at hand. She did spare the other attendees a glance and was amazed that there was no familiar face amongst the crowds. She did not let her mind settle on the implications, as there was more than enough distraction going on before her. This Duel was a strange affair, to her.

[Langdon]

Curiosity turns to distaste to outright disgust as Epitaph plays on the common trope of Death. Surely something more elegant could have been done. It's about entropy and the end. Not fucking zombies.

The Stalker leans back in his seat. Working carefully to hide most of his disgust at what he is seeing. There's no way he can hide it fully though. A glance is thrown to his cabalmate as Campanella is approached but Langdon does not intercede.

[Winter]

He drew the smoke in, long enough to sense the fire expand in his lungs and the light-headed pleasant feeling that followed. Then, he exhaled, hula hoops of smoke danced rhytmically across the air. The short nicotine high would set soon.

The duel had evolved into something far more tense than he would have anticipated. Gone was the pretense of civility, seething acrimony had taken its place.
Knot selection had been nondescript, his style much reflected his attitude, he was fluid, skirting away from the most dangerous blows. As the duel was showing, it had been the correct choice. The Moros, however, he couldn't put his finger on it. The woman knew no subtlety, her avalanche of blows was relentless, and he had to admit, her devotion to death was unsettling. Death had been a part of his life, he had seen the traces of decay on too many bodies, his loved ones even. What the woman was wielding however was something more than cold entropy, maybe she just ached for vengeance, or was that spite. Using deads like marionettes, he pondered, it was against his code.
Still, she was living up to her name, and he had to admire that unremitting persistence.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the movement propelled him forward. Neither Magi was willing to give up, rather, they had kicked it up a notch, it would get bloody.
He tilted his head to the side, toward Campanella. Would he fight a bloodied woman?

He shrugged, ashing his cigarette with a flick of his fingers. Come on.

[Banshee]

Whatever her cabal mate might have said, is swallowed as the Duel continues.

Bleak painted lips part, eyes of the living dead girl dart, hither and yon. Devouring all that can be seen.

The imagery is sublime, thread cutting sheers, and while Epitaph's chosen Sword was a blunt instrument, it was entropy and rot and horror.

Epitaph tears her own head off and uses that, and yes it is a shock, yes she gasps aloud, but it is more then shock and disgusted awe.

It harkens back to the gods of olde, time unwritten before the Atlantis myth took hold.

She would need to remember, yes, and paint.

  

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2018-07-25 21:44:48		Banshee rolls 2 to Memorise Moment (Int 2 + Composure 3 -3fastpase) (10 Again)		5, 9		1 success
2018-07-25 21:44:34		Banshee rolls 2 to Memorise Moment (Int 2 + Composure 3 -3fastpase) (10 Again)		3, 5		failure

[Campanella]

Campanella watches. His jaw is throbbing terribly and in the end he makes a quiet, disgusted, sound.

"Ask away. I will be as open as I can be."

The Moros looked away from the display of repulsive, brute, magic.
Lokio Alastor

[Sand]

There was no baseline to compare to.

This would become the baseline.

Was it a valid one? A glance around showed only that it was a riveting one. No judgment on it's value.

Or rather... Many judgements, but so varied as to negate the extremes. Assuming even that the extreme data points were maintained. Good practice said to remove them.

Rolling shoulders, wishing for a scotch, returned to watching.