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Angela	Over the past week, an enormous tower of light erupted up into the sky from within District 12. The City enjoyed three days of a strange inner peace and contentment before it suddenly vanished, leaving the people of The City in despair....and without power. While many other Districts have managed to get power back on, they are still suffering from periodic brownouts and consistent power is saved for The Nests. District 12--including its former Nest--is entirely without power. The Seed of Light project was over, for those involved, though very few people know exactly how it ended. In fact, very few people in The City know what THAT was all about. But that's not the end to The City's troubles. Typically, if The City requires help with a task, they have their own Associations to handle the situation and will rely on them first. It has never put out a distress call for 'all hands' before--The City cares far too much for its own autonomy to do such a thing--so when an exception occurs, it is notable. The call does not come from The Head, of course, but it does come from the highest official Fixer organization in The City...The Hana Association. It is a call for 'All Fixers' at first before a second notice from one of their members--Olivier--goes out asking for Elite assistance, only a few seconds after the first notice. The Wings themselves and The Head have sent out no message. The request speaks of a sudden emergency--first labeled as a ''monster attack'' within one of the safest places within the Backstreets... District 9, also known as The Streets of Music. The area had a vibrant nightlife due to Sweeper attacks being rare there. The living here was comparable to some of the Nests even if it never quite had the level of security a Nest would offer. Now, it looks like those good times are over. BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FAE0Xp-Ct8M Numerous skyscrapers and office buildings have been demolished in a manner not unlike that seen in the Outskirts, but the damage is far more recent. Several buildings look like they've been struck by missiles, some look like they've been ripped in half lengthwise. The silent streets except for howls of misery suggest the call for help came out too late... Or that the event happened so quickly that even a quick response wasn't fast enough. A crater in the downtown area at first looks like a meteor hit it, but it rapidly becomes apparent that it's more like the buildings were pushed aside as if they were in the way. At first, it might strike one unaccustomed to the oddities of the multiverse that it is strange that there are no bodies considering the damage done but the attentive will quickly realize that it's strange that there's stylized black musical notes spread all over the area in a nonsensical arrangement. Then, it might become apparent that not all the musical notes are musical notes at all. Some of the bar lines actually seem closer to ribcages on closer inspection. Some of the musical notes are actually distorted screaming faces that have been flattened into two dimensions, like shadows against the wall. The countless musical notes, one might wonder...were they people? ... And there's so many of them, far beyond counting. Far beyond counting.
Angela	There are some living people around, milling near the crater. Some are civilians, but most are Fixers. Olivier is recognizable at the head of a Hana Association contingent. To those that haven't met him before, he is a tall handsome man with his black hair tied back in a high ponytail. He is dressed in an all white suit but for the gold trimmings and black stripes that adorn the shoulders and the legs as well as a similarly black tie. In his hand is a black segmented sword of some stripe, its functionality unclear. The tightening of his hand suggests he is tense, though he doesn't look ready to start swinging it. Along with him are various Fixers, Syndicate members, and civilians but when he sees Elites approach, he moves to talk to them first. "Hey. We're about to move into the center crater. Witnesses have said that there was some sort of platform in there and that all hell was breaking loose before a Fixer dispatched ... whatever it was that ... did all this. Some of my superiors are asking if one of you Outsiders did this." Of course, it is possible to slink around Olivier if you'd rather not engage him by taking the long way around. The crater is quite big and would probably be difficult for normal people to get into judging from how tall the deconstructed buildings and segments of boulevard have been twisted up to form the crater, but he'd probably notice if everyone tried to sneak by. He seems reasonably perceptive and has, historically for those that have known him, paid truth to that aura of his. "I have my own theory, but I was hoping you could help whittle it down. ... I wouldn't have put a distress call for something like this, but the situation was..." He frowns as if trying to look for a better word and not quite finding the best words right now. "...resolved before you got here. It hit fast and ended fast. We haven't been able to get an estimated death toll, but ... it's clearly very bad." Even an unflappable man like this can't quite hide that he's finding himself disturbed at what he's seen here, though he's doing his level best. It's so quiet but for the agony.
Tamamo	"Oh, yes, hello. I am Chevalier Tamamo-no-mae, as it happens, and am at your service in this matter."     'Some of my superiors are asking if one of you Outsiders did this.'     Tamamo hasn't been in the City that recently. That's just the problem, in fact! She entirely missed an event Lilian insisted it was better she not suffer, which included both those three days of light and the following dark. For her own part, missing something like that only made Tamamo more concerned, and that's the easy reason why she's quick to answer a call. In fact, she's so quick to answer it, that she's shown up wearing a homey autumn sweater with a long cooking apron in front, Good Lookin' is Cookin' written in a cursive script over a floral pattern above its pockets, in one of which peeks out an oven mitt.     "Well, now, I do think someone with a predisposition toward this sort of thing would be difficult to hide. It is a very specific sort of curse, no? Assuming, of course, that cursing a great many people to death is what happened, as it seems to me. You will not mind if I take some time to examine the remains, I hope."     She hasn't had occasion to meet with many fixers, even if Lilian has talked about them a bit, so she can only hope they're reasonable people, and won't ask her how she knows so much about curses when she goes to work her expertise in exactly that while looking at the 'notes.' If there's something that was 'left behind' by a perpetrator, she can even use that to track them down, that being the usual way sympathetic magic is useful.
Odette Raskins	Odette's a Fixer! That gives her barely any more time to respond to the call from the Hana Association after her much needed break from everything that's been going on. She's well rested and ready for work when she finally arrives in the City for the first time in well over a week, but she's quick to notice that things feel off. She can't quite put her finger on what's odd about everything around her, but... Well, she's confident someone will catch her up if it's really important. The EMT is decked out in her Trideag Association uniform and with ample emergency triage supplies in her overstuffed bag when she arrives at District 9, sword and sidearm strapped to her belt with a visor already pulled down right over her eyes.  She freezes momentarily at the sight of so much destruction, her mind going right back to what she had seen during a prior disaster that also happened within the City at the hands of Merelisa. There's a small amount of relief, at least, when she sees that there aren't really that many... Any? Bodies at all. There's strange musical notes, sure, but she doesn't pay too much attention at first until she gets close enough to actually see the faces on them. The first time she notices one of them up close, she inhales sharply with a sort of reverse-yelp, fighting her instinct to scream and alert other people by just swallowing it down and releasing all that tension by shivering violently but silently. "Wh-wh-what... Are those... People?" She murmurs quietly as she gawks at one of those screaming faces, forcing herself to look away and hurry over to Olivier as the first of several familiar faces she sees here. Still moderately terrified already, she does a quick sweep of the area to get her bearings on where she even is (and to not stare at the notes too long), eventually getting it together enough to get some words out properly to Olivier. "A Fixer did this? But Fixers don't have... Fixers don't have that kind of power, do they? Ones from here, I mean." Odette asks, shaking her head quickly at the notion that someone from the outside might have done this. "I-I've been home this whole time, but..." <Tac-Watch> 4 (RS) Red Dwarf says, "If anyone else is following it, looks like they need medical now, not guns." She pauses briefly, then claps her hands against her face. There's no time to try and set up an alibi for herself right now. There's work to be done! "I-it was recent, right? But I'm not seeing any bodies unless they..." Trailing off, Odette approaches one of those standing musical notes with the faces, bringing out a small handheld scanner to see if she can get any vital readings off of it.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	You leave for one road trip and everything in the City goes to hell. It's every day with these people!     At least, that's what Madeleine is thinking before she arrives at the site of the 'monster attack'. Once she sees the splintered buildings and blast(?) craters, she's thinking about how this reminds her of the most great and terrible failure states of the Excrucian War: direct, titanic clash amongst beings of terrible miraculous power. Madeleine had the displeasure of participating in such a divine brawl only on a rare few occasions, but remembers well the scale at which the very fabric of the world could be twisted and torn.     Madeleine considers her suspicions confirmed when she gets a chance to examine the 'bodies' - this was the work of no mundane force. Earthly might alone does not turn people into... music? Even if it was not, strictly speaking, a *god* that did this, it was something of comparable supernatural weight. "It wasn't Lambent Dragon," she says to Olivier, "because she'd want everyone to know she did this. And I don't know another offworlder who both could and would do this sort of thing."     She pauses to crouch near one of the frozen-screaming faces and frowns. "People made into sheet music, in the Streets of Music, can't be coincidence. Whatever did this drew on the spirit of this place, turned it inside-out. I wonder if it could be undone..."     The huntress stands and turns again to Olivier. "You said a Fixer dealt with this. Do you know who, or where they are now?"     As Olivier leads the way into the crater, Madeleine keeps her eyes peeled for signs that the site has been disturbed since... whatever it was moved all those buildings. If anyone's come in - or left - before the Hana association and its invitees, she wants to know.
Redshift Operators	When the Redshift Operators show their faces, they're battle-ready... And late. Not for lack of moving fast, from the look of their jeep. The serious-looking figure poking his head out of the passenger window to look at the demolished buildings has a sense of focus, but awe as well. When the vehicle stops, the doors open, and the four emerge from the car, he takes the lead. There's an understanding about local gun regulations -- that this one time, his rifle might be okay to have brought, but now that things are over, he and his sniper set their stuff into a locked case. Though he keeps a pistol at his side.     Quick check on the radio. Nobody else calls in that anyone in the Watch dispatched this ahead of everyone else. Huh. He narrows his optics. "Nobody I know got to this thing first." He says, watching one of the horrifying notes for any movement. "This is fucking horrifying, so good thing someone cut it short if they could. Not one of ours, though. Wanna shake the guy's hand, I know *that* much. And none of my team's about to figure this out, we're not that type."     He and his gang head along into the crater. A bit aimlessly, one has to admit -- after all, can he really investigate much? But it's hard to resist morbid curiosity for such an awful, *awful* situation. Not much they can do now but look at the scale of destruction, at least for now.
Petra Soroka	Petra Soroka is not a Fixer. But, to all knowledge, she's not an *Outsider*, either. She has no ties with Trideag, and has never showed her face within the territory of the City except as an unremarkable resident of it. In the aftermath of a week of the apocalypse, her blacked-out L-corp authentication is as lingeringly legitimate as it is ominous, should she choose to show it, though that probably won't last much longer. Right now, no one can really know what the fragments of L-Corp know or want, and it's a losing game to challenge them when you're in the dark.     So when she answers the distress call, she's wearing just a simple suit, without the Lobotomy Corporation logo or her Extraction Team band, with the glittery green scarf that Sarracenia gave her a long time ago pulled up over her mouth like Hibiki tends to wear hers. Damage from the battle within Lobcorp is painted all over her, from newly scarred wounds to black, star-studded burn marks that look just like Lilian gets when she overexerts herself, and newly gold eyes. Just a week after the war, Petra is not exactly here to altruistically aid the people of the City, though she isn't opposed to the idea as long as she's here: this world *was* her home for a long time. Rather, her higher priority is learning what could possibly be urgent enough to warrant a call for every *Elite*, and what, if any, threat this poses to Angela.     She doesn't arrive with the Outsiders, but of course, the way she holds herself and passes through the crowd distinctly separates her from just being another one of the fearful District 9 civilians. Hands stuck in her pockets, discomforted expression mostly obscured by the scarf to end up just appearing flatly dissociated about the horrific musical gore, her eyes linger on the imprints of faces and skim around the periphery, tracing the outline of the impact. Her forehead creases, but her dinky little first-aid kit isn't doing anything here, especially not since she hasn't replenished any of it since the war. "Some of my superiors are asking if one of you Outsiders did this."     Petra doesn't recognize Olivier, because she's never seen him before. She'd know the name from Angela's memories of Ceri's reports, but she hasn't heard anyone address this guy with it, so beyond recognizing him as a Hana Association Fixer with enough of an authoritative presence to order the Elites around in this situation, she doesn't have anything for him. She slouches a bit by the crater, inspecting the base of a building that was shoved aside for it, and the music corpses pressed into the side.     "... A Fixer dispatched it? Who?" Petra looks up and over to Olivier. "Big impact, but no corpse. Do you think there's a big fucking dead treble clef down there in the crater?" "Well, now, I do think someone with a predisposition toward this sort of thing would be difficult to hide."     Tamamo being here makes Petra stiffen up a little bit. Since Lilian *isn't* here, and if she was, she might not care all that much to defend Petra in this particular moment, Petra is going to have to suffer the consequences of having fought Lilian and still daring to walk the Earth. The least she can do, then, is be nervously helpful before divine retribution either kills or scolds her.     "Yeah... power's got to come from somewhere. But there's not many people, or even monsters, in the City, that can do stuff on this scale, so that has to narrow it down, right?"     Actually-- that makes Petra think of something maybe critically important. This *could* be the work of an Abnormality, that escaped after the fall of L-Corp. She surreptitiously pulls out her tablet to quickly check where the nearest L-Corp facility to here is.
Sarracenia	They have barely escaped Lob Corp...and already the City is in distress again. Sarra ponders how many Lob Corps or the like are actually out there as she arrives through the nearest warp gate and flies to the spot with her often used raccoon ears and tail.      The princess looks a bit different than usual. Instead of copper hair, it is grey. Instead of red, she is wearing a her black Trideag gown with the golden trim and buttons. The reason for which might be as much the fashionable black eyepatch over her right eye as the association business. Color coordination is important. And red feels too vibrant right now.      She lands close to Olivier, her eyes wide at the sight. "...the last time I saw destruction like this King Gilgamesh was fighting Enkidu..." she says, mostly to herself but loud enough to be heard.      Olivier greets them, and Sarra curtseys politely to the association representative. "Mister Olivier. Good to see you again." she says, then looks out at the city. I certainly did not do this, and while I know a few 'Outsiders' who might be able to do this...the music notes are...not something I have seen before." she says, trying to remain professional. But, her expression is a heavy frown. It seems every time she ventures out into this City she seems some new form of terrible thing.      Tamamo is here and...Lilian does not seem to be? Sarra approaches cautiously and curtseys to Tamamo as well. "Lady Tamamo. I wanted to wish you congratulations on your upcoming wedding and...since you are here, I would like to ask if I could send a wedding gift. I may not be fond of Lilian, but one should receive gifts on one's wedding day. I am sure you will want to discuss it with Lilian, so I am content to wait on an answer." she says, then...ventures down toward the crater.      She starts searching for the source of those agonized cries immediately. She tries to ignore the music notes and bars for now, focusing on those she can help. Mushrooms and provisions are handed out liberally.
Angela	Olivier is briefly taken aback by Tamamo arriving in a sweater. It's weirdly normal to see a fox woman in general, let alone in a sweater. But kitsunes and the legend of Tamamo no Mae are concepts known to Olivier. Elites, he thinks, they come in all types. But he bows his head anyway. "Yes." He says to Petra and Tamamo both. "It is difficult to imagine someone within The City doing something like this. We get monsters in the City from time to time, other strange Anomalies... but I haven't seen anything like this before. Not even in the Smoke War." He frowns thoughtfully though he feels like someone who is usually frowning.. "I sure don't mind you looking over the remains, plenty to choose from out here, though most of the bodies have been...well, I don't know if there's much you can get from examining those." ''A Fixer did this?'' "Hah, no Fixer did this. No, A Fixer killed the ... thing that was doing this." He seems to be using 'thing' out of a lack of a better term, but he certainly has plenty of disgust for whatever did this. The Outsiders seem to doubt that it could be one of them and he can't think of a reason why they'd deceive him on this especially now that the creature is dead, but it's a disquieting notion. Part of him wished it was an Outsider--something like Lambent Dragon whom Madeleine confirms it is very likely not. The idea that this could just happen... He offers his hand to Tamamo. "The name's Olivier. Apologies for not introducing myself earlier, but I was expecting mostly Trideag." He says to her. "I am the Hana Association Liaison to the Trideag Association. My job is to make sure their job is done. If this isn't a matter involving Outsiders, that would make it out of my purview. But since we are already here, we might as well investigate." Odette will find that the musical noted people are definitely dead. Deader than dead. There's no organs or brains left, they're not even three dimensional anymore. It certainly LOOKS like something an Abnormality might have done and it's certainly POSSIBLE that one escaped in the chaos of the last week. But Petra can confirm it. By using her Manual credentials she can check in with the other Manuals who will inform her that the nearest L-Corp facility is about twelve miles away. A flashing red notice indicates 'Successfully Buried'. No notices of Abnormalities escaping. The Redshifts admit that they're not the sort to figure this sort of thing out. Olivier, who knows absolutely nothing about them, only recognizes they aren't a small Fixer office on sight is because he's very good at his job. Nevertheless, he treats them like one. "i see." He frowns. "Well, a bit of muscle might not be a bad idea anyway." ''I certainly did not do this.'' "Obviously not." Olivier says to Sarracenia, surprised at the idea that he might think it was. The cries seem to largely be of civilians suffering, they aren't significantly wounded in of themselves and they don't seem to want Sarracenia's mushrooms but they will, occasionally, take food from her.
Angela	Tamamo can track down the perpetrator. They aren't exactly cursed, just creatively killed, but the method is curse-like enough that Tamamo can work her magic. It's telling her that the perp is in the center of the crater. ''You said a Fixer dealt with this. Do you know who, or where they are now?'' "They are probably still with the monster." Olivier says. "Or whatever it is." They make their way into the crater. It's difficult to see inside because there's numerous torn up buildings and metallic planks to squeeze between, though there's a spot with enough for the Redshift's vehicle, though it's a tight fit and a bumpy road. Once one squeezes through into the crater, they'll see a small plateau--maybe about two or three Red Giants tall--with a truly ridiculous pipe organ as its centerpiece. There's gotta be at least thirteen keyboards on the thing. A giant of a man with six arms is slumped over the keyboard, his head long since chopped off. He can only be seen from the back from those following Olivier, but the ambling of the Redshifts show that he isn't just some bug guy. He is--or at least was before the intestines were severed--physically attached to the keyboard, the giant's (presumably) blood is spread out all over his own organ and he's unmoving. Already dead like Olivier said. But he isn't alone. Two men are bickering with one another by the giant piano. Or at least, one is. One man is an ashen haired individual garbed in all blue with golden trimming. He has a massive scythe in one hand that looks bigger than he is and is wearing long black slacks. He has an unidentifiable body (from this distance at least) in his arms. It's still visibly a body, unlike the rest of them, but massive chunks of the body have been ripped out of her--well beyond what anybody could survive. The head is just gone--though the blackened lines leading to the piano suggest where it might have gone. The remains of black clothing lay over them. This man is the one shouting at the other man, cursing him over and over again. The second man is difficult to read. He is wearing a black suit and tie that looks so nondescript it'd be easy to miss him in a crowd if he wasn't standing on a giant platform right now. The only unusual identifying mark is that he has a black mask on his face. He has something glinting in his left hand, which is gloved, but he isn't saying anything at all. He's completely silent. "Oh Wings.." Olivier swears. "Of course they'd be at it again." The man in the black mask suddenly turns towards Olivier, then to Madeleine, Odette, and Sarracenia. He continues to say nothing. His sudden shift of attention draws the blue-garbed man to the others and he looks, expression guarded.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine observes the ex-musician's body with muted horror. "It's bonded to the organ..." she says as the group approaches the platform. "Maybe this was some kind of mad experiment? An effort to alchemize the perfect musician?"     Ascending to the crater's central plateau, she hears and then sees the two (presumed) Fixers. "Hey, I'm Maddie, Trídéag Association. What's with the getup?" she says to the man in blue and gold with a vertically sweeping gesture at his whole... everything. Madeleine seems to have forgotten she's dressed like an edgy popstar and is carrying a pole weapon of her own on her back.     "Of course they'd be at it again."     "Oh, you know these two? Well, that's good. Or, I think that's good. Is that good?"     After introductions have been exchanged Madeleine turns her attention to the organist's corpse. There's a lot of blood here, more than enough to offer clues as to who or what this thing was in life. And its guts are already half hanging out... "Mind if I have a poke at the body?" Her question is directed to Olivier, and barring any objection from him she walks up to the body and draws her hunting knife. With a few precise cuts she opens its abdomen and focuses her vision on the guts, reading their contours and colors for those secrets a haruspex of her caliber can glean.
Redshift Operators	"The hell is--" The gunman starts.     "Tssssshhhhh!" The medic near him tugs hard on his arm, keeping some emotional, social distance from the man in the mask. "Don't."     "What?"     "Trust me."     The medic is the one who approaches, signaling the giant to follow silently. She has medical expertise. She doesn't expect to fix the dead woman, but she knows this kind of agony. Part of her medical expertise extends to mortuary work. She approaches the pipe organ, and follows the lines from the body of significance. She cuts into the piano with precognitive swings, the results of testing futures, before signaling the giant to retrieve pieces with strength, to recover the lost fragments of the woman. She'll wordlessly arrange them where they ought to be, in a human shape, so that one of the men can lay her main remains among the shape for later body-bagging.     She would not abide her colleagues interrupting the shouting match, and she cannot heal the dead. Even Odette's supreme command over medical rescussitation isn't going to fix so brutal a maiming. But she can at least give whichever of the men here care for this woman an opportunity to bury a whole body, without some tragic maiming. Wordlessly doing that, rather than getting involved in the argument, is the best she can do.     It'll leave her, and the others, in a position to listen in.
Odette Raskins	"It wasn't Lambent Dragon," "Her style's different. More... Um. Direct, yes." Odette comments in agreement with Madeleine, glancing briefly at those shoved-aside buildings and regretting it already. "Something that could pull this off must've been huge, too..." When Odette catches sight of the Redshifts coming through, she freezes up almost immediately. Any person from the Company would, right? Even with her Trideag uniform on, it'd be pretty easy to identify her as someone from the Company thanks to her duffel bag bearing the logo of the same, but anyone that's seen Odette get scared before could easily recognize her wide-eyed stare for what it is: Awe, not fear. "Assuming, of course, that cursing a great many people to death is what happened, as it seems to me." ". . . but I haven't seen anything like this before." Tamamo's and Olivier's observations about the potential source of all this gets a worried noise out of Odette and also get her to stop freezing on the spot. It's quieter than her noises usually are. "What kind of curse would turn people into... Flatten them out like this, though?" The EMT asks, taking short breaths and slowly extending them to try and calm herself even as she desperately hopes her scanner doesn't actually pick up any life signs. For better or for worse, it doesn't. "Definitely... Nn. Definitely dead. Looks like the survivors would've been further out there, too." She glances over at where Sarracenia is, pausing again to gawk Sarracenia's palette change. It takes her a moment before nodding slowly in silent approval, even murmuring 'cool' quietly when it feels like nobody can hear her. "Do you think there's a big fucking dead treble clef down there in the crater?" "I hope not. But if there is one, then..." Odette glances back at the note person she had scanned earlier, then clears her throat while following Olivier into the crater. "Probably. I don't know if we'll find anyone else down there, but if the Fixer is still down there, then..." Another inhale, another deep breath, and Odette keeps one hand on her bag while the other rests on the handle of her sword. "They might be hurt. Got to make sure at least one more person gets out of this alive." As she heads further in with the group, though, Odette gets to see two more people that are very much not alive near two others that are. She clenches her jaw and tighten her throat to hold back her gag reflex at seeing the mutilated bodies, pulling up a surgical mask like that might actually do anything but keep her teeth chattering from being visible. Her timing's great, at least, as she's really freezing up in the terrified sort of way when the two men turn to look right at her. "W... We're not here to fight!" She calls out and holds her hands up to show that she's not holding any weapons (but she is armed). "W-we're here to locate... Um. Survivors. A-and investigate whatever did all this." So far, so good. Breathing in slowly from behind the mask, she briefly points at the bodies, then follows after White Dwarf and Red Giant with a rapid shuffling of feet to follow their lead. Once she recognizes what the medic is going, Odette finally lowers her hands to her bag, retrieving some sutures and bodybags so she can start putting the dead woman back together and get her into something a little more protected from the elements.
Tamamo	'The name's Olivier. Apologies for not introducing myself earlier, but I was expecting mostly Trideag.'     "A pleasure, of course."     'Lady Tamamo. I wanted to wish you congratulations on your upcoming wedding and...'     "Princess Sarracenia." Tamamo's usual warmth is present, no one having yet mentioned to her that Sarracenia was involved in the week-long war. It would, possibly, be there for her, anyway. She only doesn't give an answer because Sarracenia specified that it can wait, and hurried on.     And yet, that warmth isn't present for Petra. Just what could be the difference, there, one might wonder, if they were close enough to the line of fire to see, or to hear her say, "Ms. Soroka. You have seen fit to appear in public, despite everything, though your appearance has changed." Even if Sarracenia's had, too.     ...but the method is curse-like enough that Tamamo can work her magic.     Tamamo performs a little ritual, with ink and paper and oil and passes of her hands. This much requires no miracles, but mere magecraft, to arrive at an answer that could have been found, with a little bit more work, even without magic.     "As curious as could be expected," she says, over the flattened remains of the tragically slain, now rendered so far from person-like in appearance that that it creates an entirely distinct sort of detached horror, "but not a 'curse' as such. This way, then, as you please." She speaks to any nearby.     They make their way into the crater.     'Of course they'd be at it again.'     "Whom might they be?" Tamamo asks Olivier. Whatever the answer, she expects she'll still have to go and meet them to find out more.     "Hello~!" Just a normal, three-tailed fox-woman shouting Japanese while wearing an American English cooking apron, on the high end of power walking through the rubble as she approaches a six-armed headless monster slumped over an evil piano. "I am Chevalier Tamamo-no-mae, of the Paladins. Might you please explain the matter at hand? It would save us all a great deal of wondering and trouble, I am quite certain."
Sarracenia	'Obviously not.'      Sarra blinks at the statement, then blushes a bit. "Er...yes. Obviously." It is not as if Sarra couldn't so something like this. A Bonzai Bill would surely cause some destruction if set off in the middle of a normal-ish city. But...to this scale would take her several. Maybe dozens.      Mushrooms are refused by those she comes to help. Sarra mmphs softly at the first refusal, then tries introducing herself. "I am Princess Sarracenia of the Trideag Assocation. We are here to help. Please, these mushrooms will heal your injuries and will melt in your mouth much like cotton candy. There is no reason to be worried about them." Sarra makes versions of this introduction to any she meets and downs one herself when she encounters someone or groups of someones, hoping to change their minds. But, she ultimately will not force them and will simply leave some nearby.      When they encounter the two men arguing, Sarra approaches them while looking up at the strange creature on the giant pipe organ...making sure to avoid stepping in anything that might be blood. She starts to speak. But, the medic shushes them then goes piecing the poor woman back together. Sarra waits quietly until the blue man is finished yelling at least before she curtseys lightly and addresses them. "Ah...hello there. I am Princess Sarracenia of the Trideag Association." Tamamo has already asked them to explain, so Sarra just waits and listens.      She then looks up at the organ again. "It is somewhat unnerving that we recently had a very bad run-in with someone else that played an organ." Sarra says, both out loud and on the radio. When asked who she elaborates. "Ayin. When we were inside of his mind he played a giant organ not unlike this one. Although I do not believe it had this many keyboards."      After the last week or so, Sarra just regards the torn up woman with a bit of a melancholy gaze. Sarra knows something of what it is like to be in that position, though she is fairly certain she was never so bad off as to have lost her head. But...then she wonders. If she HAD been that bad off, would she have even known?      When she notices Odette, Sarra offers a slight wave in greeting. And seems self-conscious at the gawking. Her cheeks color lightly and she quickly moves away. It seems to have worn off by the time they reach the crater, and offers a quiet, "Hello Odette." when she has a chance.
Petra Soroka	"It is difficult to imagine someone within The City doing something like this."     Petra can think of several-- namely, an abberation of the Silent Orchestra in the District 9 Lobotomy Corporation facility, if such a thing existed and escaped. But her relay with the Manuals suggests not-- though, who knows how far an Abnormality could relocate itself if it's not confined to the walls of a facility meant to contain it-- and much more damningly... there *is* a body, once they get inside the crater.     Of course, that doesn't rule out Petra's assumption that surely the fall of Lobotomy Corporation is involved. Because narratively, it only makes *sense* for the thing that she's aware of to also be the cause of the next thing that she becomes aware of. Her best guess at the moment is that the blackouts caused some other Wing's Singularity to break out and ruin stuff, which she relays in the radio. She'll probably have to look into I-Corp's business, so she makes a note to do that-- for which her first instinct is to try and telepathically tell Angela so that she can remember for both of them, before remembering that she isn't around. "The name's Olivier."     This being Olivier makes sense, once he starts talking about Trideag specifically, but it's still good to have a confirmation. From Angela's memories, she doesn't really know much about him besides the stated introduction, but that means he's at least someone she should take care not to piss off. "Ms. Soroka. You have seen fit to appear in public, despite everything, though your appearance has changed."}     While Petra is clambering her way up the side of the crater, balanced goat-like on the slopes and edges no matter how improbably she could, Tamamo calling out to her makes her stiffen up. A cold chill of death runs down her spine, and she very carefully straightens up and wipes the dust off her palms to politely acknowledge her.     "Um. That's true, I have. I'm sorry." The fact that she's still magically obligated to be honest to Tamamo means that she *must* actually be sorry for showing her face. Yay! "I, um, live..." Is that true? She should qualify it, just to be safe from instant death. "...d, here, so I don't want to sit around and sulk while there's danger."     Then, overlooking the crater, 'a Fixer' being the one who killed this thing suddenly makes much more sense. Petra never quite had the time to get *really* into the Fixer fandom-- partly because of work, and partly because of preexisting fandom demands-- but she couldn't help from being *interested* in the 'superheroes' that operate in the world that she calls home. It was a *novel* experience, to have meaningful celebrities around her living situation like that, even though it'd lost a bit of her sparkle from when she was a kid due to spending time around Elites and learning how lame they are.     So, "... The Blue Reverberation. And I guess-- I mean, that has to be the Black Silence, right? Or...." "Of course they'd be at it again."     It has to be, because the Blue Reverberation is bickering with him, and she can't really imagine that being the case if it was a name any less significant than the first Color's. Colors, like Elites, are incredibly instable, so putting herself directly in between the two of them seems like an absolutely suicidal idea, which is why she's more than happy to let Madeleine do it instead. Instead, Petra, in almost as nondescript an outfit as the masked fixer besides the gold eyes, hops onto the edge of the platform and stays a healthy distance away from the two men.     "Hey. You guys killed this thing? What happened?"
Angela	Madeleine makes the mistake of trying to just walk past the two men. It's actually a bit of a climb to get up there. Madeleine makes the mistake of casually asking about the blue-garbed man's getup when he's clearly upset and, upon getting closer, has clearly been crying. Before Madeleine can take a look at the pianist, the large scythe moves instantly to her neck--stopping just short from slicing through. "What disgusting eyes you have." The blue-garbed man says. "Eyes are windows to the soul, but I see nothing there." "Argalia! Let them do their work. Don't you want to know what happened?" Olivier cals over, following up from behind before looking to Madeleine with a murmur, "Look, a major disaster just happened, try to treat this with proper respect." Argalia tightens his grip but ultimately lowers the scythe. "My poor sister, always putting her faith in the wrong people..." The man in black is difficult to read without a face, but he inclines his head--it seems to be ''The Medic'' more than ''The Giant'' that stays his hand. Something in her temperament convinces him to stay his hand. He brings his hand to his forehead as if considering something, and turns to leave but then-- --His posture shifts upon seeing Tamamo. He approaches her. Even with the mask, he's clearly looking at her face. But he doesn't speak up immediately. Tamamo asks who they are again and Olivier exhales a sigh like he's not really looking forward to this. "Argalia, the Blue Reverberation and--" The Black Silence holds up a finger to where his own lips would be. "...It seems he would rather I not say. But he is The Black Silence."
Angela	The Black Silence opens his hand, just a bit, and the glittering thing he was holding onto dangles from his hand. It's a silver necklace, And at its center, is a ring. There's small specks of blood on it but as Madeleine is forced to look at the woman's body, and no doubt catches sight of the ring--she doesn't need to wait until the medics' grizzly work is done to know who the body belongs to. ''Your eyes kind of remind me of my Gloves'' Angelica, the Black Silence. ... But this one is also The Black Silence? It'll take Odette and the medic a bit longer to repair the body, but it's a good thing to do. The Black Silence speaks, his voice sounding like it's been run through three voice changes, as he closes his hand around the ring. "I got here. I killed it. Too late." He doesn't turn from Tamamo. "Does your fiancee know anything about this?" It seems like he's at least considering the same possibility as Petra, that the fall of LobCorp has SOMETHING to do with this, but no matter how hard he is to read--there's no way he can be certain of THAT. Petra being smart and acting like she's nobody important means she's largely treated as any other uninvolved Fixer but Sarracenia makes the mistake of suggesting she knows something. "Hold on, Ayin? From L-Corp? Do you people have something to do with the blackouts?" Olivier asks. And just as quickly, The Black Silence is suddenly upon Sarracenia, grabs her by the neck and holds her over the edge of the plateau. "...If you know something, you better tell me everything you know. And if I find out you left anything out..." During this commotion, Maddie CAN do some of her magic with the Pianist's body. This will confirm that Angelica tried to stop the Pianist but was killed, and that 'The Black Silence' here arrived afterwards and killed him. And then she sees farther back. This person here used to be a man. Just some guy. A pianist in a small bar that used to stand where this organ is now. All he wanted was his little stage, but then a drunk pulled him away and took his place. And the worst part, he played beautifully. In a sudden rage, the pianist throws the drunk away and smashes his body repeatedly into the piano like a madman until... A miracle happens.
Tamamo	'Does your fiancee know anything about this?'     "She has not mentioned anything involving evil musical instruments. If you mean to ask, might she know anything of horrors released by recent events..." Tamamo takes a moment to think about it, and ignore that she's been identified via engagement. "I would need--"     And just as quickly, The Black Silence is suddenly upon Sarracenia--     "Pardon?!"
Redshift Operators	The gunman watches the display of focused violence. He keeps some distance, avoids some words that come to mind, in order to choose something more carefully.     "You looking to kill whoever did this? Because they need to die." He speaks up a bit, and the medic... doesn't stop him. "This can't be allowed. If you could kill this thing, make sure you put that kind of cut into whoever let this happen." He looks up to those notes. "Whatever you're feeling, that truth, that's the same way someone out there feels for a lot of those poor bastards up there." He gestures at the notes... "So it's right. Someone's gotta die for it. World can't spin right if someone who did something like this still gets to breathe."     He has no idea what's going on. But he believes, fully and truly, that this rage deserves its fulfillment. That's rage that comes from deep in the blood, down in the gut, full of the demand to make the world right. That's where you get the kind of truth that no context or bigger picture can override, by his sentiment.
Odette Raskins	"Argalia, the Blue Reverberation and--" "But he is The Black Silence." Blue Reverberation? Black Silence? At least one of those names is slightly familiar to Odette in passing, but she might also be confusing them with some/several of the other Colors she's also heard about since working at Trideag. Just knowing that they have those names gives her more reason to be careful than she already was before, although it doesn't actually change what she needs to do or distract her much from working alongside White Dwarf. "Your sister? Oh... Oh gosh. I-I'm sorry." Odette stumbles over her words as she often does, but more out of sympathy and not knowing what to say rather than her usual nervousness over every little thing. She visibly tries and fails to come up with anything reassuring to say after getting hit with all of that information at once, then refocuses on getting the body put back together and safely bagged up. That's about enough time for her to get caught off guard and jerk back reflexively when the Black Silence goes for Sarracenia's neck. Having not been savvy to anything that's happened in the last week, Odette just blurt out a confused "Huh?" first, then hurries over besides the two and is halfway towards reaching up to try and pull the Black Silence's arm back before remembering that she is nowhere near capable of doing that. Alas, her hand is already kind of at his arm already. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Ah.. Sorry, Mister black Silence. But if anyone knew anything about whatever happened, it probably wouldn't be the princess!" She blurts out quickly, pausing just long enough to think about that before looking over at Sarracenia herself. "Um... Right?" "This can't be allowed. If you could kill this thing, make sure you put that kind of cut into whoever let this happen." There it is. That's the type of language that got Odette to start seeing things differently, feeling things differently, and lit her heart on fire enough to join the Watch. Some of that fire is even visible in her eyes even while she's trying to decide whether or not to withdraw her arm from hovering near the Black Silence's, but it might just end up looking like she's glaring at him instead. "Like curing a disease and not just the symptoms. C...Can you help us do that?"
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine freezes, the blade pressing ever so lightly against her neck. She's very good at holding still when necessary, and it may be this talent that spares her blood from flowing before Olivier intercedes. After Argalia lowers his scythe, Maddie rubs at her neck. Relieved to feel her hand come away dry, she grumbles something about having 'perfectly good eyes' before moving on toward her examination the organist's body...     Only to halt, again, when she spies the ring and recognizes the woman's body. A million deaths is a statistic; one is a tragedy, even one known only in passing. Something catches in Madeleine's throat. At first she dares not to utter the name aloud, as if it were some spell that would make this all real. Her hesitation lasts long enough for both Argalia and this other supposed Black Silence to see the recognition on her face before she half-whispers, "Angelica..."     Internally Madeleine reaches for something, anything to distract her from the present. And for someone, anyone to blame this on. Preferably someone who won't talk back; to this end, the organist presents himself as a suitable target. It was he who really did kill Angelica, after all, even if this other Black Silence might be blamed for failing to save her.     As she tentatively approaches the organist's body, the other Black Silence begins to menace Sarracenia, and Madeleine takes the cue to set to her task posthaste. She relaxes into a sort of trance as she lets the vision flow into her, then she tenses again and gasps as it relinquishes its grip on her mind. It takes her several seconds to piece things together into words.     "He was nobody," she says. "Or thought he was. Just another pianist in the Streets of Music. Got upstaged at a night's gig, got jealous. Bashed his head in on the piano and kept playing. Things got weird from there, then... all this. Maybe he always had terrible power without ever realizing it, or... something found him, used him. People can be gates for dark powers to enter this world from others. Especially desperate people."
Sarracenia	'Um. That's true, I have. I'm sorry.'      Although she doesn't poke fun at Petra this time, Sarra is obviously intrigued that Petra apologizes so readily to Tamamo even if it does make sense.      'Hold on, Ayin? From L-Corp? Do you people have something to do with the blackouts?'      '...If you know something, you better tell me everything you know. And if I find out you left anything out...'      Sarra blinks at the question. She doesn't really know the infrastructure of the city. Is losing one L-corp facility that impactful? "What? Why would-"      Before she can finish her thought, Sarra is grabbed by the neck and dangled over the plateau! She cries out in pain and winces for a long moment as her still overstressed body protests profusely all over. But, after a few moments her one good eye reopens and she grips the arm that is holding her and lifts, taking some of the strain off her neck. Her one visible eye smolders with rage, and in much too calm of a voice she says, "I would be quite happy to tell you anything I can about L-corp. However...I am a princess and a Fixer. And I do not take kindly to threats."      'Whoa, whoa, whoa! Ah.. Sorry, Mister black Silence. But if anyone knew anything about whatever happened, it probably wouldn't be the princess! Um... Right?'      <J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka says, "Don't confirm anything about L-Corp, by the way."      Sarra mmmmmphs as she dangles, her one good eye regarding Odette for a moment before staring Black Silence down. "...as far as I am aware, all of the Abnormalities within the fallen facility were contained. I just know that I encountered something that also played an organ during a meltdown. I have no concrete reason to think this thing might have some connection to that one. I merely found it an odd and unnerving coincidence." she says, still in that much too calm of a voice despite her voice being strained from the squeezing of a hand around her neck. "Now...put me down, and we can avoid some unpleasant incident that would look bad for everyone involved. As for the blackouts, I am an 'Outsider' as you say. I came here to help as best I can, but I have a poor grasp of how this City really works. I have no idea whether the collapse of the Wing has anything to do with the blackouts."      Madeleine divines something from the body, and Sarra looks toward her before back at Black Silence. "Perhaps wherever the creature within the L-Corp facility originated from spawned another such creature through this unfortunate pianist."      Her eye turns to Blue Reverberation after that. "...my sincere condolences...I have no siblings so I can only imagine what it must be like to lose one. And I imagine it to be one of the worst things ever. If there is someone to blame, I will do my utmost to find them and make sure they are never able to do such a thing again."
Petra Soroka	"Eyes are windows to the soul, but I see nothing there."     Plus ten points to the Blue Reverberation, in Petra's mind. Accurately assessing the completely empty nature of Madeleine's soul on first contact is the kind of interrogative skill that Petra can only respect, even in the circumstances, and the attitude but restraint necessary to swing his scythe at her without decapitating her is unquestionably commendable. "My poor sister,     This sudden surge of respect puts Petra in a position to be immediately heartbroken by Argalia's next words, and she sharply gasps. The plastered wallpaper of dead civilians is gruesome, but not particularly worth feeling bad about, since none of them would really be identifiable as individuals even if they *weren't* squashed into sheet music. The corpse on the stage is different, because now, it's a close family member of someone with a more positive relationship score than zero to Petra. Retroactively, Petra respects Argalia even more for not just killing Madeleine on the spot for being such a gross creep about an obviously serious event.     She never met Angelica, and neither did Angela, but even without that, Petra's voice is hoarse and sincere when she murmurs to the two men. "... I'm sorry." "Does your fiancee know anything about this?"     The immediate spike of danger that Petra feels when Lilian is brought up in that particular way is fought down to be kept from showing on her face, since she'd still rather not be associated with the Outsiders, here. She tugs up the scarf back over her mouth, lingering on the edge of the platform and watching White Dwarf carve up the Pianist. She can't imagine Lilian *does* know anything about this, and definitely not more than Petra-- probably, no one here knows more than Petra about what's going on, and Petra knows next to nothing. "...If you know something, you better tell me everything you know. And if I find out you left anything out..."     Without acknowledging Sarracenia or implicating herself with 'you people', Petra holds up her tablet as if it's a clipboard and she's someone who's supposed to be here by virtue of it. "My guess right now is that the blackouts caused some force or Singularity to get loose or haywire. Some kind of powered containment mechanism, something shut down, and whoever it was didn't have any backups for it. I'd like to find out who, but this whole City is full of such garbage infrastructure that I don't know where to start, and obviously no one's going to own up to it."     That's pretty much entirely the truth, as far as she knows. She might not have been as helpful, if not for the gut punch of Angelica's corpse, but as long as it doesn't endanger Angela, she's very willing to help. Also, frankly, given that she has an interview with the Concord tomorrow, it'd be a terrible look to let Sarracenia die right now-- which is probably true of Madeleine too, but Madeleine really got on her nerves. "You looking to kill whoever did this? Because they need to die."     "Yeah. No reason why we shouldn't kill them. The problem's *finding* them, and actually pinpointing a 'them' among all of the people along the way."
Petra Soroka	"People can be gates for dark powers to enter this world from others. Especially desperate people."     "Hahh..." Petra sighs in a distinctly Angela-esque way, closing her eyes. "Yeah. We can't rule out it being something offworld. Not necessarily one of the Outsiders here... but I can't really think of anything it'd be, off the top of my head. I'll look into it." "...as far as I am aware, all of the Abnormalities--"     Petra grits her teeth and reflexively reaches for Lilian's power to stop time and punch Sarracenia's teeth in, and of course finds it absent. Instead, she hisses into her radio, then groans and does her breathing exercises to resist stabbing Sarracenia to death right here and now. The nagging thought that this might be her last chance to do it without getting in *severe* trouble doesn't help. "I came here to help as best I can, but I have a poor grasp of how this City really works."     "Clearly," hisses out from under her breath. "Perhaps wherever the creature within the L-Corp facility originated from spawned another such creature through this unfortunate pianist."     Petra pulls out her phone. Morphmetal synthetic neural connection to the device, along with 100x temporal perception, allows her to text the sentence 'I'm gonna kill her' to Angela over a thousand times in the few seconds before putting it back in her pocket.
Angela	The Black Silence grips Sarracenia and the way she's talking to him isn't convincing him to let go. He only seemed calmer than Argalia because of the mask--but he might even be more furious. Sarracenia speaks of ... Abnormalities? ... What are Abnormalities? Does she mean Anomalies? How did she enter the mind of a head of the Wing? What the fuck does she mean by a Meltdown??? The princess theorizes that some creature from L-Corp might have had something to do with this? He can't tell if this is useful information or if this woman is crazy or messing with him. Judging by the bewilderment openly shown on Olivier's face, it's probably reasonable that the Black Silence knows even less. Odette is shouting that it probably wouldn't have been Sarracenia who had anything to do with it but that doesn't stop him either. Instead, it's when the gunman speaks that The Black Silence lowers Sarracenia to the ground. He lets Sarracenia down with no apology but his aggression seems to have suddenly dissipitated. ''You looking to kill whoever did this? Because they need to die.'' The Black Silence turns to the gunman. "...You're making a lot of sense." He says, flicking a card into his hand and offering it to him, bobbing his head to Odette as if by apology. "Yeah. I can." He says to her before looking back to the gunman. "My info, so we can compare notes." Maybe the Black Silence sees a like-minded soul in the Operator. He looks to Tamamo, "...Sorry for interrupting. Angelica adored Lilian. Asked her some advice that she threw at me later about raising a family. She was my wife. You don't want to see my face right now." Madeleine has a theory. The Black Silence can't entirely discount it, but thanks to Sarracenia, L-Corp is definitely a major suspect. It's not unusual for a Wing to have secrets but it's the biggest lead he's got right now.
Angela	Argalia's mood is awful but Sarracenia and Petra are mollifying him somewhat in totally different ways. "Ah, dear princess, do not mind that brute. All he knows is how to kill." He says as if he didn't quickly threaten Madeleine himself. He smiles at her but it doesn't reach his eyes. Petra speaks, her sincerity is evident to both Colors--and Olivier--Argalia manages to get himself up to his feet. His tone is about as hollow you'd expect someone who just lost a close sibling, but he appreciates it. "There are not too many people in this City who can still show empathy like that to a stranger." He offers her a hand. "May I have your name? I don't know of you or your Office." It seems he believes she's a local after all. And the other two don't seem to question it. He is quietly fascinated by Madeleine's work and the fact it seems to speak to another power intrigues him. "Is that so... There is no power like that in The City, except perhaps the Blood Fiends, but this is clearly not their work." The Black Silence also considers Petra's words. The blackout, but indirectly. Possible. "Seems possible. Maybe even plausible." He moves off to sit down at the edge of the platform and hold his head in his hands. Olivier rests a hand on the Black SIlence's shoulder and then turns back to Sarracenia. "About these Abnormalities... I am going to look into them myself, and if they were in L Corp, I ''will'' find out what they are even if I have to check every branch office myself. So you might as well tell me what's going on there. Angelica was my friend too." Petra gets a response back. 'What did Sarracenia do now? I just told her that I forgave her.'
Tamamo	'She was my wife.'     "Oh!" She'd not really heard the name whispered earlier, but it swiftly clicks. "Oh, oh my, I am so, so very sorry for your loss--" Tamamo's drop in demeanor is instant. It's not just the mention of Lilian's name, or the fact that she'd no connection to the masses who'd died here, but the fact that there was almost, very nearly, still something left that could be recognized as more than an impression of a person. The tragedy of almost being in time, and the cutting of love's thread is what strikes her, and brings one hand to cover her mouth, her ears to droop, and her eyes to waver.     'You don't want to see my face right now.'     "Yes, of course."     She needs a moment to collect herself after shifting that quickly. "I know only a little of the stories that were being collected, I suppose. Lilian should certainly know as much, and be more helpful in this regard."     'People can be gates for dark powers to enter this world from others.'     'You looking to kill whoever did this? Because they need to die.'     "You would not merely blame the actor, here, then?" Gesturing to the headless pianist. "I may be able to find... a little more information, if a thread is all we seek. Is music not a matter of plucking strings, in the first?"     So saying, Tamamo makes her careful way up, less out of sheer difficulty and more to avoid getting anything but her apron too dirty, to reach the dead... man? Was he still 'a man,' when he died, and not 'a thing'?     She goes to find a thread to follow, perhaps to find that miraculous Fate, and whence it leads.
Sarracenia	Sarra says some things that she thinks are completely neutral and not at all incriminating. Petra informs her that they are pretty much the opposite of that. Sarra's glare at Black Silence lessens by increments as she is given perspective over the radio. By the end of the radio conversation she looks more uncertain than anything.      She is set down by one Color and given an apology by the other. Sarra huffs softly at Black then smiles lightly to Blue in return. Her smile diminishes as she sees the lack of smile in his eyes, though. "Ah, I appreciate your consideration."      Black mentions that he was married to Angelica though, and Sarra's expression toward him immediately softens. "Oh...I am so sorry." she says, then looks between the two. "I met her when I and some others were given our Grades. She seemed quite kind and full of life. To lose her to something like this..." Sarra bows her head lightly and closes her eye in a short moment of silence.      'About these Abnormalities... I am going to look into them myself, and if they were in L Corp, I ''will'' find out what they are even if I have to check every branch office myself. So you might as well tell me what's going on there. Angelica was my friend too.'      Sarra opens her eye again and looks at Olivier. Her focus flicks to Petra for a moment before flicking back to Olivier. She debates whether to tell Olivier what she knows (such as it is) or not. She draws in a slow breath, then lets it out just as slowly. "...I wish you luck in your investigation, Mister Olivier." she says sincerely, quite clearly torn that she is not allowed to say more.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"Is that so... There is no power like that in The City, except perhaps the Blood Fiends, but this is clearly not their work."     Madeleine nods, quick to forgive the blade to her throat now that there's monsters to speculate about. "Yeah, no, this really isn't their style," she says at the mention of the Blood Fiends. "What I'm wondering is, why did whatever it was pick here and now to fly off the handle like this? The guy this all started with was just some two-bit pianist doing a one-night gig at a no-name bar. And the blackouts have been going for days at this point."     "I have a feeling whatever's behind this may not be smart in a 'people' way. Could be some kind of psychic predator that's been forced out of its usual haunt by the events of the last week, blackouts et cetera, and only sat down to feed when it got hungry again. Because nothing here points to whatever did this having a coherent plan of action. More likely it's a force of nature or an animal intellect."     The huntress taps her chin. "Y'know, I'd better check for spirits." She slings her backpack off of one shoulder and around to her front, rummaging through it for a number of tools. Dowsing rod? Check. Electromagnetic field meter? Check. Polaroid camera? You betcha. She even briefly considers the Ouija board but ultimately slips that one back into the bag. Her myriad of supernatural and technological ghost-hunting equipment won't let her interact directly with any lingering ghosts or demons or suchlike, but a quick scan with each and a few snapshots with the camera will at least help determine if anything of the sort's been active here recently...
Redshift Operators	The leader of the Redshift Operators swaps a card. Nothing there but a frequency and a code, but it's enough to make contact. "May not be the Company I want dead, but nothing like this happens without an intent or a neglect. Someone needs a bullet where it'll stop this ever happening." He's scowling under the helmet -- being surrounded by this many corpses won't let a fragment of a smile grace his tone. "Keep the face to yourself. I know a little about how that is." His helmet shows nothing too.     "You would not merely blame the actor, here, then?"     "Nothing like this is just one guy." The gruff-sounding crank gestures firmly, jabbing an index finger at the Pianist. "Someone lapsed security. Someone let something out. Someone had something made to begin with. People with power did some evil stuff, or they did some neglectful stuff, but you can't put this down to just the triggerman. Not so quick after this big-ass tree shit, that's for sure."     The body of the Pianist will be handled. But the Redshift Operators know what to do. The squad leader gestures for the others to get to work. All of them spread and begin taking photos, focusing on traces and tracks, trying to gather data that will pinpoint specific physical mechanisms.     "Our focus is knowing the mechanism, understanding the surface of the curse. Understanding the physical system it used will let us know who to seek answers with, whether they be responsible or merely insightful. A biological warp originating within? A physical, remote manipulation? Something deeper, something sonic? Data will bring us the next stage of our quest. If we have what we need to ask the right questions, someone will have an answer." The medic explains their work, just a bit, as she gets photos of things with her PDA.
Petra Soroka	<J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka physically pained, "Uh huh." <J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka says, "Hey. Sarracenia. I'm really, really trying my absolute hardest right now. So I'm going to offer you something, and I promise I mean it." <J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka says, "If you're confused about what to do. You can ask me. On a mission. And I won't say 'kill yourself'."     The depths to which Petra has sank, in her desperation to not kill Sarracenia. To invent some reason, in all the universe, besides the abstract and hypothetical growth arc for which she needs the Concord, and the undefined value of 'solving things in a less violent way' that she fundamentally can't bring herself to believe in without routing her mind through Lilian's words, to not murder her on the spot. Everyone would understand. Well-- Tamamo wouldn't. Argalia wouldn't. Olivier wouldn't. The Black Silence wouldn't. Lilian would, but would be angry at her anyways. 'What did Sarracenia do now? I just told her that I forgave her.'     She's so glad that Angela understands without her even needing to specify Sarracenia. It's a comforting handicap to ease off of being spiritually connected for so long, that the half-unspoken language between them is still there. 'i'll tell you later. she might still be in the process of fucking it up so itd be premature. dw though i'll handle it' "Asked her some advice that she threw at me later about raising a family. She was my wife."     Oh god. These two are *brothers-in-law*. That would be absolutely insane lore for the Fixer fan circles, if it wasn't also extremely gut-wrenching to hear. The vague outline of Angelica as a person, idolizing Lilian and planning to be a mother, married and loved by her family, takes shape in Petra's head, and the cold horror of the aftermath of the Pianist's attack settles inside her more fully.     The Black Silence losing his wife makes Petra's psychological processes for modeling empathy plumb her own experiences for something similar-- and obviously, she finds something extremely applicable. Imagining talking about Cinder right now makes her feel nauseous in a way that she refuses to interrogate or linger on, so rather than empathizing in the moment over an approximately shared trauma, she just pushes the thought away and ignores it. The specter of Petra from three years ago would have words to say about that, but Petra doesn't want those thoughts in her head either. "There are not too many people in this City who can still show empathy like that to a stranger."     "... Yeah. It's not exactly my strong suit. But I think you need it right now." Still queasy coming off of a dizzying glimmer of real empathy, Petra's voice is unsteady when she pulls herself together enough to answer Argalia. "I hope I can offer something better than empathy too."     She takes Argalia's hand, dazedly loose at first, and then remembering to actually shake it. "I'm Petra. I'm... between affiliations right now. But I've got resources I can look into about this, if I can get in contact with either of you later."
Petra Soroka	"Seems possible. Maybe even plausible."     "... Yeah. We all know about the old G-Corp mutations." Obviously Petra wasn't in the City for any of that, since it was long before unification, but it's hard to get a more accurate idea of what a Wing's power can do to a human body when unleashed publicly than that. "And those were *controlled*. What would an accident look like?"     "I don't have a better lead than that at the moment, and if anyone has a better lead than me in the City, I'll find them. I can't imagine any force in the City doing this besides a Wing, and if it's an Outsider instead, then their opsec is probably total dogshit and I'll be able to track them down too." Petra swallows. The intensity with which she wants to help these two get revenge, and the reasonable surety she has that she's one of the best people possible for that task, is dizzyingly unusual, and it leaves her throat dry with misery. "... I'm really sorry." "About these Abnormalities... I am going to look into them myself, and if they were in L Corp, I ''will'' find out what they are even if I have to check every branch office myself."     The fact that Sarracenia doesn't say anything further in response is like a breath of fresh air to her, one that earns a grateful (if exhaustedly wounded) glance in her direction, but leaving Olivier with just a hint and then conspicuously refusing to elaborate isn't a situation she can let stand on its own. She's not associated with Trideag, so she could leave it to Lilian, but... 'leaving it for Lilian' isn't a behavior option she ever really feels good about choosing.     "The nearest L-Corp branch is twelve miles away from here. I-4521 doesn't seem to have been destroyed any worse than any other branch facility in the fall of the Wing, and there's no real trace that I can find of there being a trail or a teleportation source or anything like that from it."     Petra, dubiously Wing-involved, holds the tablet to her chest and sighs, world-weary. "There's a risk, that I've been conscious of, that the fall of L-Corp might result in those monsters known as Abnormalities getting out and fucking up the local area around the branches. As far as I know, this isn't a case of it. L-Corp's reach was a lot larger than just the literal monsters that made it work, and hyperfocusing on that isn't going to get us anywhere."
Odette Raskins	"Yeah. I can." Odette's shoulders visibly sag in relief when the Black Silence seems to take to the gunman's words, and then she straightens up when he actually bobs his head towards her. She's not sure how to react at first, and then she eventually settles for mimicking him, like she had done something wrong without realizing it. "Oh! Um. Thank you. We'll... We'll need all the help we can get for this, if we're going to be looking into..." She trails off briefly to glance around at the destruction wrought already, then furrows her brow as she reconsiders what was already said earlier. "Whatever caused all this, and whoever might have more of that ready to... Spread? Depending on where it came from, anyway." "Maybe he always had terrible power without ever realizing it, or... something found him, used him." "My guess right now is that the blackouts caused some force or Singularity to get loose or haywire." "Like the curse..." Odette murmurs as she considers Madeleine's discoveries, eventually glancing over to Tamamo as the theory about the situation being caused by a curse comes back to mind. "Or... No, blackouts letting some weir stuff out would make a lot of sense, too. But if that's the case, I doubt.. Y-yes, nobody's going to take credit. They know they'd be targets." Some more gears start to turn, and a bit of the color drains from Odette's face. "What's... Um. What're the odds they might even start preparing more, if they know they'll have a target on their backs once someone traces it back to them? Should we be quiet about-" Another pause, and then she shuffles over to Olivier, Argalia, and the Black Silence in turn. "-who we mention this investigation to?"
Angela	The Black Silence nods to the Redshifts. He already hates The Company and he's never heard of them before, but this is not a guy with any fondness for The Wings. Honestly, none of them have much fondness for the Wings. Even Olivier, servant of the current order that he is, seems to be more concerned with preventing this from happening again than protecting The Wings. The Black Silence didn't really need much help to be radicalized. But he sees a kindred soul in Red Dwarf and while it isn't making him feel better about the situation--his wife is dead, Argalia's sister is dead, Olivier's friend is dead and you can't really make any of them be okay with that right now--Collectively you managed to keep the three of them from going for the throat any more than they already have for now. ''Nothing like this is one guy.'' The Black Silence feels that is true. Just like how one guy doesn't suddenly grow six arms and destroy an entire neighborhood all on his own. The Black Silence says, "Sounds like he was human. And then he wasn't. I've a few leads I want to check down." dangerously and, upon catching a look from Olivier, "...They have to pay." "We'll find who did this." Olivier insists. "So don't go off the handle." The Black Silence commits to nothing. Olivier watches Sarracenia carefully in the way the other two don't. His gaze shifts to Petra a moment after, no doubt noticing the little glance she gave her, but he doesn't know what to make of it just yet. Petra gets a quick response from Angela. 'Hahhn... Understood.' Argalia lets out a long sigh at Petra hoping that she can offer something better than empathy, especially since it isn't her strong suit. "I don't know. This still doesn't quite feel real. He also has a card to offer Petra, though it's less bare than The Black Silence's--it has all the same information but there's some art to it--there's the design of what looks like a blue gust of wind outlined behind the contact information. Madeleine takes a picture. Petra mentions the G-Corp 'mutations'. The Black Silence looks to her and nods but he's distracted right now. Hard to tell how he feels about it, but Colors ARE often maniacs so the fact that his response is subdued is probably a good thing. Olivier almost misses that Petra seems unusually well prepared, but the last thing she says makes him take notice but he carefully decides to not comment on it because the last thing he wants right now is to rile the two grieving killers near him. "Makes sense there would be investigations into what happened." He says. Madeleine can take pictures but if there were ghosts here that show up on film, they aren't here anymore. "...If a Wing is behind this, it's better we don't mention it to anyone unless we think they can give us information about it." Olivier decides. "For one thing, last thing we want is people busting the heads of any weird person they find because they think they'll turn into a monster. For another, a Wing will definitely bury evidence. There's only so much we can do about The Wings as an Association. Legally. Can bury their reputation. Of course there's more that can be done. I have someone I could ask about this." His gaze settles on Red Dwarf. "...You sound a bit like him, actually." And he doesn't mean The Black Silence over there.
Angela	Music IS about plucking strings. And let's just say that the bindings of strings is particularly relevant in the current situation...and the situations to come. There's string connections to the Black Silence and Argalia, they are the biggest and closest ones but it's pretty reasonable to imagine why the deceased Pianist would have connections to the relations of the woman he killed. There's a small link between the Pianist and Olivier and a very strong one between Olivier and The Black Silence. There's a string of intense animosity between Argalia and the Black Silence. Fate suggests they are intense enemies and are bound to being so. There's a string to Angelica's body, fainter than it ought to be. Suggesting that Angelica wasn't a personal attack. Indeed, there's only a line towards some of the notes nearby as far as to any of the corpses having a strong connection to the Pianist, no doubt the 'drunk' who had pushed him to becoming what he became. And then there's lines going all out across the City of varying strength. What the Pianist did here today will alter the fate of The City. There's so many golden threads that it feels like, for the moment, that the sky has been weaved into gold. It's difficult to know where even to start, but Tamamo picks a start: The source of the Pianist's power. The easier to pick out thread is heading far, far away--to a place that used to be Lobotomy Corp but is now, by Angela, called a Library. Whether this means it's something about the Library or something about the facility is unclear, but definitely SOMETHING in that location. And then there's something all around, actually. Something that's a little bit inside of The Black Silence, inside of Argalia, even inside of Olivier. Something that seems at least a little bit connected to everyone in The City. How? It's hard to say. The strings of Fate aren't getting that specific. And then there's something bigger, also all around but invisible. Two words come to Tamamo's mind about what it could be. The first word is Voice. The second word is Sun.
Tamamo	This part isn't magecraft. Feeling out the strings is a small and, to her, natural act, but it's still an act of divinity, and it's the entreatment of the divine that is beholden to ritual. For Tamamo, this is just a matter of reaching out and finding what's there.     And yet, it isn't easy. The connections are many but weak, and narrowing that only finds her...     "He heard a voice, is it? Perhaps that voice was not the source, itself, but it is connected. It belongs to no one he knew, and no one we can track to a specific location. Perhaps it was a miracle, and he did speak to a god." Something sticks in her memory. Something about people becoming gods. Who was it who had mentioned that?     "No, the source of his power is somewhere else. That is a place that can be found, but that..." Tamamo looks in no direction in particular, and says, "I will need make some inquiries. Be assured that I will not be absent long."
Petra Soroka	'Hahhn... Understood.' >just keep an eye out for now ange >don't be afraid to defend yourself if someone suspicious comes around "I don't know. This still doesn't quite feel real."     Petra takes Argalia's card and slips it safely into her pocket, but it's hard for her to appreciate the coolness of getting a Color's contact info when he's saying those words, in this situation. Without thinking about it, she mumbles, miserably sympathetic, "Tell me about it."     It might come to Petra's mind later that she's unusually well prepared for work in the City even for someone who's native to it, even though her internal idea is only that she's better off than any of the other Elites for it. Right now, though, it's just a product of 'doing everything she can' while being competent and resourceful, and still coming up frustratingly short over something she didn't expect to give much of a shit about at all. She's seen more corpses than anyone realistically should in a lifetime, but she still closes her eyes to not have to keep looking at Angelica's. "Makes sense there would be investigations into what happened."     "Yeah." Petra has a lot more she could say to that, but the emotional exhaustion of being exposed to raw grief is creeping up on her. It's getting harder and harder for her to keep focused on the task at hand rather than the events of the past month and million years, and each word that comes out of her mouth is an exercise in suppressing the broad tidal movement of her thoughts and picking out whatever practical information leaks through the cracks. "...If a Wing is behind this, it's better we don't mention it to anyone unless we think they can give us information about it."     "Mhm. Smart. I..." Petra blinks, eyes re-opening with a mundane surprise that cuts through her stupor. "I... don't have a card to give you. But you can catch me on this radio frequency if you learn anything, and I'll do the same. ... Good luck."
Angela	A...voice? "A voice...?" Argalia says. " Olivier is looking at Petra's eyes. They're unusual for The City, despite Ayin having them, which means Olivier hasn't seen any eyes quite like it before. Eventually, when everyone's attention is off of him, The Black Silence has slipped away and vanished. Oliver clucks his tongue in his annoyance, distracted from the eyes long enough that Petra is soon offering him contact information. "Of course. Normally I'd ask Trideag to handle this on their own, but this is an all hands on deck situation. It seems we found what we can. Perhaps, Argalia, you should take some time to grieve--" "Hahh... Waiting while that beast is overturning half the City... No, you have a point." Argalia says. "...I've a lot of thinking to do." And so they inevitably split up, with Argalia taking the body--once it's been reconstructed--with him. ... .... ..... A voice. Argalia has many sleepless nights after this. His rest is interrupted by old memories, isolation chambers of pure white--devoid of sound and sight. He dreams of unusual injections, strange questions, bits and pieces of his body being gradually replaced with untested augmentations. He used to dream of his sister, reassuring him and comforting him and giving him strength, but now he can't get that image of her tangled up in the Piano's strings out of his head. He wonders about death and the silent void that lays beyond it. And he fears being trapped in a silent world forevermore. And then, one day soon... He hears a voice.