Children of The Divine (IC)

[Scorpodael]

Jack nods, and accepts the offer of whiskey, looking a bit less like a lunatic, even from that short nap. "Sorry, I'm not usually quite this... erratic. Sleep helps to ground me, more than anything else..." He says with a slight shrug. The reason for this was probably down to his subconscious working through some of his issues without his thoughts getting in the way.

[Chanlin]

Interrogation

Emmett and Fiona both sit through the interrogation stone faced at first an then Emmett flatly states, "I can't speak for her but I'm exercising my right to remain silent." At this Fiona just nods and says quietly, "Me too."

Before they are let go: Emmett puts a gentle hand on the Sergeant's shoulder, "Take care of yourself. " He says it with a genuine sincerity and a look in his eyes that says maybe, just maybe, he knows something the sergeant doesn't.

[Naamah]

Did check with GM for some specifics.

Aiden keeps his story straight, and his words spin the tale - they were on their way to sign a contract, they were met by a man calling himself Donny Cross in the lobby, they went upstairs and into a conference room, they were suddenly ambused by a crazy woman with a sword, they ran for it. Sergeant Barnes listens carefully, stopping him every so often for the clarification of a detail, but on the whole accepts his story.

Especially, as it turns out, when Pyke refuses to hand over the video records, claiming a system glitch. In any way, it's clear that Pyke probably wants the whole mess to quietly dissipate.

Aiden takes a separate cab back to the hotel. Supposing someone were to tail him, they'd see him stop the cab first at a liquor store. He spends ten minutes inside - at one point, one can see a locked cabinet opened and a bottle reverently withdrawn from it - and departs loaded with brown paper bags.

His next stop is at a graveyard. He walks into it, one of the paper bags in one hand. Some five minutes later, the bag is still in his hand, but there are wet marks in a line where a bottle's lip would be. His expression is worried and saddened.

The last visit is to the hotel, where he tips the taxi driver a fair sum and comes upstairs. He lets himself in with a smile and sets the bags down on the table.

"So. Fi. And whoever else, including dear Sol," he cooes, fluttering his lashes at the Australian and tossing a paper bagged bottle to him, "I think the best thing to do with the rest of the night is to let the other fucking scions the Divine have working for them figure out what the fuck is going on, and try to relax. Because honestly, I doubt it's gonna get better."

He holds up a liter of Absolut Citron at Fiona and winks.

[Chanlin]

Fiona grins at Aiden, "Where's your bottle?" She asks with a chuckle.

[Naamah]

He widens his eyes in mock surprise, and begins to fish out varying types and sizes of liquors. "And, what we don't finish - which, of course, may be nothing but give me my dreams - there's a locker in the Armory we can stash it in for later."

He mixes up a Captains and coke, sits down, drains the whole cup with a look of exhaustion, and smiles wanly. "Much better."

It may be of note that while a few of the bottles are top shelf/premium, none of them look expensive enough to be worth the trouble of keeping in a locked cabinet.

[Jay 2K Winger]

In Denver, the gang unwinds...

And so everyone is in Johnny's room at the hotel. To the injured, Johnny provides a fortifying shot of the One True Whiskey, which takes aches away and closes any wounds to stop the bleeding. Aiden has thoughtfully provided enough mundane booze to get just about anyone drunk, and Johnny describes what they ran into in Colorado Springs.

"We snuck into Forson's estate, but either he knew we were coming or he saw us on a security camera. Probably both. Gunnar Forson's definitely a frost jotun, though."

Selene frowns a bit, sipping a rum and Coke. "That wasn't in any of our intelligence."

"Yeah, he's hid it pretty well," Johnny agrees. "But he's a smart one. He actually treated us like guests, rather than intruders-- invoked sacred hospitality and everything. He offered to challenge us to some manner of contests to give us the Heart of Winter," and here Johnny gestures at Jack, "until Jack called him out on the fact that there were two other scions in the building besides us. Enter MacBride and some Latino scion I didn't recognize, and whose name I didn't manage to catch." He pauses. "MacBride's every bit as scary as the reports indicate."

"Told you," Solomon grunts. "Ran into that monstrosity once, in Europe, ten years ago. He was tryin' to kick off a war between India and Pakistan. I managed to blow up his plane above the eastern Mediterranean. Dove out just before the bomb went off, m'self, and he was standing right next to it." The Aussie shakes his head. "No way he should've survived it, but he did."

"Well, for all his invulnerability to big damn explosions, our champ here," and Johnny indicates Lupo, "took him down with relative ease. Put him in a blood choke until the guy passed out. Forson used that as the challenge and surrendered the Heart without any more fuss." He frowns. "The Latino scion was clearly the brains of the two, though. Very composed man. Tallish, slicked-back dark hair, some kind of Aztec amulet-thing, and a set of prayer beads or something that he kept fingering." Aiden, if he's not already too drunk, may vaguely recall someone (whose face he didn't see) of a similar description from his Past-watch vision. "He definitely is in favor of starting the Götterdämerung, but the impression I got was that he felt it was the right thing to do."

Solomon frowns. "Maybe he's been enthralled by Forson?"

But Selene shakes her head. "That doesn't work on scions. The Divine blood protects against it."

"Could be he's just got a warped set of convictions," Johnny sighs. "It's happened before. At any rate, I know that the Latin scion has been involved with the Erewhon Foundation, and he's been at some of Rutledge's functions and gatherings, so maybe someone else knows who he is." The Erewhon Foundation, created and run by a scion of Apollo, Aaron Rutledge, is a charitable organization dedicated to 'making the world a better place,' and is best known in the Divine community for finding unawakened or freshly-awakened scions and providing guidance.

Selene nods. "I'll see what I can find." She glances at her drink, which is now empty, and pauses. "In the morning."

With Johnny's report on the Colorado Springs angle finished, Solomon-- who has been drinking whiskey as if it were water-- speaks up to report on the Pyke Brands angle. "Mr. Twisty here got us in, posin' as a skater chick celeb and 'er retinue. Got met by someone called 'imself Donny Cross, but Twisty knocked him out in a conference room and it turned out he was that Shadowman again. Me an' Selene stayed in the conference room so she could try to hack their systems, the others went to investigate this SCIF on site. While they were gone, that crazy Japanese chick turned up and attacked." He indicates his bandaged arm. "You can see how it went. What it's worth, she seemed as surprised to see us as we were to see her. I grabbed me gun and eventually stood them off so we could escape, but we got picked up by the cops."

"Aiden acquitted us all, as it were," Selene adds, "by having me hack the system and wipe their cameras after we arrived, so it comes down to our word against theirs, and the general belief is that Pyke won't want to admit their security was lax enough to let a group as large as ours on site."

From this point, everyone else is free to chime in to relate their own experience or insight on events, before Johnny waves things down. "I can feel how things are... wrong as much as all of you can. It's possible that we were too late to stop the jotnar from doing whatever they were planning with the Heart of Winter. If that's the case, we'll deal with things as they are. For now, we'll take the Heart back to Sevilla in Vegas. Then, we'll figure something out."

He drains his martini and starts to pour another. "For now, let's just get drunk. We'll fly back to Vegas tomorrow."

// GM Notes-- And feel free to have drunken antics for a bit! Nothing else to report as yet. More plot things will come soon.

[Scorpodael]

Jack rubs at his head a bit... "Yeah, Johnny? Do you think you could take that heart I ripped out of the guy at the hotel and get that mailed to Gunnar with a note? Maybe a lovely pink bow tied around it? Something along the lines of... 'Heard you lost one Heart, here's another,' signed by a reasonable facsimile of Freya's signature? I've decided I don't really want to eat it and it'd be a shame to let it just rot in my bag." He says, thinking for a bit. "Should probably let Freya know about it, too, if you do." Jack shrugs a bit, settling into his chair, and closing his eyes, not bothering to drink anything more than he already has.

[Chanlin]

Emmett declines the drink and stick to water while he listens to what is going on and doesn't add anything to Solomon's story.

Fiona on the other hand is having a grand old time drinking whatever isn't presently occupied straight from the bottle. Her face noticble darkens when Su is mentioned by Solomon and the team might hear her mutter "stupid whore" under her breath.

After the reports Fiona takes out a deck of cards, "Anyone up for a game?"

[Naamah]

It's been a very long, stressful day. It started in an unfamiliar town care of a certain shadow-dimension-travelling tart, continued into a chaotic fun-filled trip into enemy territory (complete with attempted murder!) and dragged along at the end with a very intensive story-weaving to keep him and the rest of the team out of hot water. And now, he feels, it's time to let the burdens of being Who and What he is drop down, allow his fences to droop a bit, and most importantly - get toasted.

So, Aiden is happily sipping at his third Captain's and Coke of the night, listening to the sounds of traffic outside, the words of the people in the room a slowly dimming sensation.

Then Jack's suggestion percolates into his head. And then, he realizes exactly what he just said.

Apparently, liquids are not meant to visit the lungs.

The Aesir-kin chokes, leans over and coughs the swallow of drink out. Any offer of help is waved away as he gasps.

"Yeah, um. Let's... let's not. Get her involved. I mean, she's, you know, a busy lady. Lots of love, and wars going along, you know. Not really a thing to do. To bother her, you know."

If he were listening, Aiden's heartbeat had jumped rather rapidly, especially for a man pledging his troth to Lady Liquor.

"Cards. Yes. Cards are -- um, I'm not gambling tonight. If that's what you're implying. Is that what you're implying? You're a lot luckier than I am."

[Scorpodael]

Jack gives Aiden a long, speculative look... "What? Are you afraid that if we bring Freya's attention to us, she'll attempt to kill and/or kidnap you for her bower?" He asks, in a rather amused tone. He'd have been able to tell that Aiden was distressed- the man seems like he shouldn't have any trouble downing his liquor, what with the vast experience he has with it.

[Naamah]

Aiden takes in a deep breath.

Then he sighs, and his brows wrinkle as he squints his eyes closed. He downs his drink, wipes the edge of his lip with the end of his sleeve.

"Little story," he says, in a rather dejected tone. "So the glorious Vanir, keeper of the Brisingamen, piles of other shit - the Lady Freya takes a lover, they drink the mead of the honeymoon, she tosses him back into Midgard. Two years later she gives the weaned baby Kelby Freysen to his father - weaned, not potty trained, he got to deal with that on his own.

"Thirty years later, after a goodly amount of, you know, busting ass for the Aesir for drip drops of gratitude, kinda like what we're all doing right now, Kelby falls for the beautiful Brenna Mistel. Freya is pissed like... like Fi's looking to get, except angry and not drunk. Right. No explanation given, just raging mother-in-lawism. But he doesn't care, tie some cans to the car, they get married. A year later I'm born. Another year, and Mama disappears. No trace, no forwarding address, nothing.

"Kelby begs the Divine to help him - you know, on account of all the shit he did. Aaaaboslutely jack-off-shit help he gets. For all he knows they're the ones who disappeared her. Maybe they tossed her into a pit. They like doing that, you know, tossing people they don't like into pits and caves and shit. So he goes a-looking for her, and no one sees him ever again either."

As he's spoken, Aiden's mixed himself a new drink - a blend of a couple different bottles, some canned juice, some sparkling water. He stirs the new drink with his pinky finger, suckles a drop of moisture off of it with a wan smile. "So, I mean, hey. If you really wanna go calling up the Queen of Fólkvangr, go for it. Just to be piss-honest about it? Not a fan. Don't want them to die, of course. But... fuck, man, some of them are just fucking raring for it, you know? Hi ho, here comes all our fuckin' gruesome deaths, woop woop let's drown in glory and piss exaltation. Cuz, you know, who gives a shit about the little people? No one cared about the bullshit Freyr gave Gerdr - well, his page did, but still. Still. So even though I know who my family is... you wanna go chat with them? Okay, whatev's. Follow the rainbow. Just try not to get tossed in a pit or anything."

[Scorpodael]

Jack kind of stares at Aiden a bit... "Well, that sucks seven different kinds of goat tit." He says, narrowing his eyes somewhat, staring off into space. "I wonder if Xolotl is free. Could probably bribe him with a couple of cows..." He mutters to himself. The man is quite clever, if not often wise.

[Naamah]

A blink. "Well, we're in cow country now, I think. Maybe. Get Fi to play dice with some ranchers. Will there be any leftovers? I like a good hunk of beef to eat."

[Scorpodael]

Jack waves a bit vaguely. "I wouldn't know. I haven't met the Hound of the Dead- sometimes he is like unto a dog, sometimes a skeleton, sometimes a man with a dog's head. The mythology can get really confusing sometimes. But the thing is, this is something that I can't just let stand. I am a clever man, but not altogether wise. After all, I did tell MacBride to get his "psychotic Irish arse" out there in my very cheesiest accent..."

[Chanlin]

Fiona starts shuffling, "No need to gamble." Then she grins, "Or we could use liquor as currency."

She starts dealing for Texas Hold'em.