Jeanne Gar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rationalizes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
knightsoflegend2012-03-09 06:37 am
rationalizes) wrote in knightsoflegend2012-03-09 06:37 am
chicago mission ♔ the people under your feet are shooting stars in the night
WHO || Gar, Kat, Mark, Dumage, Martha, Myri, Buffy, Sven, Spike, Desmond Descant, ??, ?? [Closed]
WHAT || The Knights infiltrate Nightscape to intercept a deal for the Eternal Jade. And... so does Des. At the same time. Hilarity ensues???
WHERE || Chicago. Nightscape.
WHEN || Friday, March 9th, various tiemes.
HOW || Actionspam; Don't sweat tagging order.
It's been a busy day. Following Gar's discovery of a message that seems to imply a trade for the artifact known as the Eternal Jade will take place at a location called "Nightscape" the next evening, several of the Knights headed out to the area outlined in Hoffman Institute files, only to discover the place was an office building that sold pharmaceuticals. However, as Myrilandel stared at a strange canopied fruit stand attached to the front of the building, she began to notice something, well, quite odd about it. A long line of people waited against the edifice to enter the stand, but none of them looked as if they fit into the commercial sector whatsoever, with their leather, vinyl, spiked hair, glitter, colored hair, etc. In fact, only by staring at the image presented and concentrating could the others recognize there was something wrong with the whole picture - something that caused theirs eyes to rebound off from it and find the entire scene innocuous otherwise. The line of people disappeared into the canopy - but none of the crowd ever came out again, defying any logic about how many people could humanly fit inside the tiny stand at a time.
It was clear that it wasn't just any fruit stand.
It was an entrance. They quickly surmised just what it had to be an entrance to. Myrilandel managed to note a number of guards emerging from the club after hours, dressed in some kind of futuristic looking armor that... looks a lot like Halo armor. She spotted the symbol on the side of the van they climbed into, and the surveillance team took note of it before heading back to the hotel.
Meanwhile, the research team back home (Kat, Buffy, and Sven mostly, since Gar passed out asleep in her chair) threw themselves into finding out what they could about Nightscape: and found rumors about an invite-only underground club, whose location was protected by magic, which seemed to mesh with what the other Knights had seen. The most interesting aspect of the club, however, wasn't just the fact that invitations to it come in the form of pills that implant directions into the subject's unconscious mind, but that supposedly it played havoc with the memories of those who frequent it. Every visit fades from the patron's mind when they leave, in the same way a dream does - they could remember a vague feeling of what it was like, but not any details about what actually occurred - and the more they attempted to remember, the more the memories would elude them.
Today, they've managed to look up that symbol Myri noticed on the side of the van and identify it as belonging to a private security firm that hires out to wealthy patrons in often underhanded deals. Which has allowed a plan of action to be hatched. :O
The Knights will coordinate efforts to plant a fake detour between the security firm and the club, derailing a van full of guards to lead to a stop light that will be controlled by Kat. And allow them to come up through a conveniently placed manhole to plant a device on the underbelly of the truck that will cripple its battery temporarily. At this point, the Knights will assume control of the vehicle, and Kat, Gar, Buffy, and Spike will don the armor of the guards and take their weapons, proceeding to the club as security personnel. Mark and Myrilandel will transport the captured guards to somewhere safe to keep them out of the way and possibly interrogate them. Dumage and Martha will drop off Sven at the club - he'll be attempting to bluff his way through the front door as a patron so that they can have an eye in the crowd as well, and then the ladies will park on the street to sit and wait as a getaway car / backup if necessary.
Obviously, nothing could possibly go wrong. :)
[ooc; subthreads to come!]
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I suppose we're lucky, then, that I've no clue what or where it is. [She trains her gaze out the window at that, lapsing into thought.]
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There's no one in the main foyer, the secretarial desk abandoned for the moment, and Liam walks past them both, rapping on the wooden double doors on the far wall. A male voice inside extends an invitation to enter, and he pushes the doors open without preamble.]
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[The voice inside was boisterous in an unassuming, highly educated and trained manner - a sort of civilized intensity behind it, layered with years of age and experience.
The office inside is similar: impressively arranged, books lining the walls from floor to ceiling both to the left and the right of them, stretching across the hardwood floor to the desk which dwarfs the one outside it. Tables line the sides of the room as well, some of which seem to have glassed-in settings. Glancing in reveals strange artifacts in them all, some distinctly recognizable - an arrowhead, a jeweled scarab, pieces of what looks like an old camera, and some that defy explanation or description really - in strange colors, or shades, or perhaps broken into shapes that make whatever recognizable form they once had far from memory.
On the desk in the center of the room, there are stacks of papers that reach almost to Des' head. Also prominent is the source of the crackling music - an old Victrola machine. Strange words in what sound like French came out, alternating with English, and the whitened head behind the desk bobs along thoughtfully to the rich baritone that issues forth.]
La lune, trop bleme,
Pose un diademe
Sur tes cheveux roux.
La lune, trop rousse,
De gloire eclabousse
Ton jupon plein de trous.
La lune, trop pale,
Caresse l’opale
De tes yeux blases.
Princesse de la rue,
Sois la bienvenue
Dans mon coeur brise.
[The old man smiles up from behind his spectacles and launches into a seemingly practiced translation, reaching over and turning the knob that lowers the volume as he intones it.]
“The moon, too white… puts a tiara on your red hair. The moon, too red with glory, splashes your ragged underskirt. The moon, too pale, caresses the opal of your indifferent eyes. Princess of the streets, be welcome in my broken heart…”
[He begins chuckling and gestures for them to come in, making broad sweeps with one hand, and using the other to press the chain against his waist coat tighter to him as he sits down. He digs a pocket watch out of his breast slip and flips it open, examining it carefully, drawing the spectacles down to the end of his nose, and the watch first close to his face, and then at the greatest possible length from it. His whiskers bounce pleasantly as he laughs - his white beard somewhat pointed, although the mustache is a bit long. He's not exactly what one would call a jolly girth: there's just some sort of strange twinkling behind his eyes, as if he were the keeper of a great many secrets. His eyes bounce between the three of them, though he settles on addressing Liam, the tiniest hint of confusion in his eyes.]
You've brought a guest... I see?
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That's me. I'm Eterna Jade. If that's what you were looking for, you found it, so please tell me what this is about, and let's get this over with. I'd like to go home eventually.
And no, I don't know anything about your whatever talisman.
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Ahh.... of course... of course. Perhaps this is not as unusual as it seems. I do have many, many questions for you, my dear, and am prepared to explain to you exactly what is going on, but first I think it's important to take care of business with Mr. Descant here, if you don't mind.
[He stands up, replacing his glasses as he does so, and rummages about in a drawer until he's withdrawn a checkbook. He fills one out promptly and then extends it across the desk with a flick of the wrist.]
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[Except he moves to do no such thing. He's just being bitchy.]
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Still, apparently the Doctor's willing to humor Desmond a little bit, and walks around them both slowly.]
You, my girl, are the only clue we have to the location of an item that's been sought after by many, many men over the past several decades. Of course, these men are on a fool's quest, for an artifact they understand nothing about. The Lazarus Talisman's powers vary entirely, depending on who you ask, and no two stories are the same. The name, of course, would seem to imply something to do with resurrection magicks or... immortality, and of course, that's a favorite tale for many who wish to possess it.
[He pauses in front of her, looking over his spectacles at her, and then taking a step to the side, gesturing at her lower back, where a tattoo is visible through the sheer fabric around her midriff. Sure enough, she practically has a talisman tramp stamp - a perfect tattoo of the image they've all been passing around on her lower back.]
Whatever you may think, my dear, you are our missing link in this puzzle. We mean you no harm, whatsoever. It's knowledge we seek here. Knowledge for a better world.
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The look he shoots the doctor is no less irritable than Jade sounds right now.]
Next you're gonna tell me that if you get it, you'll cure cancer and AIDS, promote world peace, and make gay people straight.
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Such power should not be wielded at all, let alone by whatever evil men seek it.
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I don't think I can help you, either way. But I'm sure you'll figure that out.
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Unless others work to cover it, study it, and conceal it from harm.
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[He moves to one of the glass cases, gently resting a palm against the wood frame.] I've seen it many, many times before. To some men, the acquisition of these treasures is more than just a dream, it is an obsession. And it is those men who are the dangerous ones in this world, the ones who will stop at nothing. You may look at our collections and scoff, thinking we are no different, but [And her turns back towards her, solemnly looking between them] I am an old man who wishes nothing more than to leave behind a world that will not destroy itself the second I turn my back. That is all.
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Fine.
I'll stay.
[She turns her head to look at Des, her eyes making a silent demand of him, as if exacting a promise that he won't make her regret this] For now.
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We clear on this?
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Crystal.
Though I find it a rather sad state of affairs that you find it necessary to remind of such, I do, of course, appreciate your concern for Miss Jade.
[A pleasant smile.]
Mr. Chambers will show you out.
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