this is Salem, a land filled with magic and maladies. It is a place where witches and their elemental familiars gather, a home to legend and
lore that predates time itself. Yet of all the wicked and wonderful stories the past can tell us of, the most magical are the ones yet to happen.
This is Salem - this is the start of your very own journey. Welcome to starfall
Starfall is an animaga witch roleplay set in mostly modern times. Members play as witches in a world plagued by monsters, where the only safe spots are walled cities. Starfall strives to be a character-driven roleplay with expansive lore and a highly interactive plotline. We want to allow members to
create and look back on a magical journey, and mold the site and its plot as their characters grow.
[attr="class","gearcore"] The first two mechanics who had been asked to accompany the steam-powered locomotive on this trip had outright declined when they heard what it'd be carrying. Criminal transports were always tense, and occasionally chaotic, which made it difficult to keep a machine which was so dependent on order running smoothly. Zephyr, however, had a reputation in the railroad industry for agreeing to just about any mechanic job they had available. He thrived under the stress, and loved telling stories about it to his coworkers after the fact.
In line with the secretiveness of this trip, Zephyr was woken up at an ungodly hour of the morning by one of Mirrorlight's police, informing him that it was time for them to go. "Mmnh-- yessir, officer... Be right up, officer." he managed to mumble groggily, accompanied by a weak solute that likely would have been considered mocking if he wasn't given the benefit of the doubt from being half-asleep. No one had been informed of what train they'd be getting on or when it would leave to help prevent saboteurs from being able to concoct a plan. Certain groups, however, had ways of knowing; although nobody looked overtly suspicious, the passenger cars were just a bit too crowded for a train leaving at 3:10 in the morning.
Man, Zephyr could already tell this was going to be a wild ride.
Long before the day of the trip, he'd been informed that his Silvertongue partner would be finding his own way onto the train. Maddox, however, (to whom Zeph had already told everything about the trip and the mission, naturally) didn't have an easy way of knowing which train to get on, unless he wanted to camp out at the train station without sleep for a week straight. Instead, Zeph had given him a chainlink Gate to keep next to his bed, and, while Zeph was alone in the boiler room, activated its other half, reached through the portal it created, and repeatedly slapped his brother's face to get him up. "Three minutes," he mouthed silently when Maddy's eyes opened, the mechanic holding up three fingers to indicate how long his brother had to get ready. Not two seconds later, the portal shut.
Now... time to figure out where that assassin was...
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jul 23, 2017 9:18:11 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
ace blackwood. kasimir knows of the augmenter, of course. everyone even peripherally affiliated with the underbelly of society knows of mirrorlight's criminal overlord. that he has finally been captured and sentenced after all the crimes, all the atrocities he has committed and ordered, all the death and blood and suffering associated with his name, it is... somewhat bewildering. and definitely surprising. if anything, kasimir would have expected the crime lord to once again escape the grip of justice, flooding the way with gold and bribery to remain above the law. it is unquestionably not for the lack of trying, however.
that ace blackwood has been convicted despite his far-reaching influence, that this mission even exists, that kasimir has been tasked with assassinating the sociopathic augmenter - he is worried this is indicative of a bigger power on the rise in the criminal world. that this is a new ruler's way of overthrowing backwood's reign. as much as kasimir despises blackwood and all he stands for, he cannot help but worry that this destabilisation of his empire will only result in a worse outcome.
but it is not his place to question orders. kasimir is a tool, nothing more, and his only purpose is to obey.
distinctive crimson hair dyed a truly plain shade of brown, dressed in the comfortable, plain clothes of an average civilian, an annoyed and sleepy expression plastered on his face, kasimir boards the train alongside the rest of the passengers, looking all for the world like he would rather be anywhere but here - ergo, a normal customer instead of the assassin he is. he has no doubt the elaborate deception is necessary - even the limited interaction and observation time he has had thus far has revealed a suspicious surplus of people aboard this inhumanly early train, and he has seen already a few 'passengers' moving with too much fluidity and grace for an average civilian.
taking care not to move too quickly, kasimir wanders down the aisle until he finds an empty carriage close to the boiler room, where the hired train mechanic that is to be his partner should hopefully be situated. he has no idea where his other mission partner would be however; he hopes that the train mechanic will know.
the question is, should he attempt to find his partner now, or wait for him to find kasimir?
stupid question. kasimir is disguised such that he would seem like any other ordinary passenger. passcodes are useless if one does not know to whom they should be spoken to.
rising to his feet, kasimir slips out of his carriage, checks the aisle for anyone looking his way, then quietly makes his way to the boiler room and lets himself inside. there are two people present - one blond, green eyed man with distinctive scarring covering one side of his face, and one sturdily-built, dark-haired man with strong features. he is fairly certain these are his mission partners; the blond, if no one else, seems far too noteworthy to be a regular customer.
kasimir does not let the 'innocent-civilian' expression fall off his face and his body language just yet, despite how certain he is of the other two witches' identities. "i saw a sparrow fall from a tree," he says softly, determinedly not grimacing at the ridiculous words. whomever had come up with the passcodes must have been drunk - or had a warped sense of humour.
kasimir has a sneaking suspicion his illustrious leader may have had a hand in it.
[attr="class","m2content"]he wouldn't consider himself a completely stranger to assassinations, but the task at hand is one that is particularly unique, and undeniably one of importance, if their target is anything to judge by. maddox had accepted the offer -- zeph's excited telling of the mission -- on no more than half a dozen words in, and now, woken by a graceless slap to the face, he wonders exactly why he did it.[break][break]
but three minutes -- three minutes! who on earth gets ready in three minutes! -- is all he has to toss on a jacket, grab the necessary items and roll out of bed. more accurately, he breezes through an abridged morning routine, consisting primarily of lamenting the loss of a comfortable bed, and hoping that he has gotten enough sleep to make sense of whatever situation will follow.[break][break]
he tugs the jacket tighter around him, and later, finds zephyr without any problem. his brother looks very much at home amid the whirring machinery of the boiler room. maddox, on the other hand, looks like a passenger who had wandered too far. no effort is made to mask his face -- nothing particularly outstanding there -- but he is wearing his good shirt, and shoes that don't look as though they've been through more duels than their witch.[break][break]
he watches patiently as a ( supposed ) civilian wanders in. 'i saw a sparrow fall from a tree,' says the stranger, and maddox wonders which heartless soul had come up with the passcode in the first place. his own half, conveniently told to him by zephyr earlier, is far simpler. "it wasn't a sparrow," he replies, cryptically and solemnly, though a grin tugs at the corners of his lips nonetheless. eventually, giving the assassin a nod, it forms a lazy, half-hearted grin. the fact that it is morning dictates that little more can be coaxed out of him. "welcome aboard."
[attr="class","m2icons"]
[attr="class","m2icons2"]
[attr="class","m2hov2"]ONE MAN'S OBSESSION IS ANOTHER MAN'S TRASH
[attr="class","gearcore"] The boiler room door opens just as Zeph's portal shuts. "Man, I was afraid it'd be you," huffs the voice of the newcomer. Thankfully, the familiar voice of a conductor Zeph had ridden with before, still sporting his utterly fantastic beard, "This must be a bad one, eh?"
"I appreciate yer overwhelmin' confidence in me, Marty. Really. Truly honored," Zeph sarcastically retorts, putting a hand mockingly over his heart and inciting a frustrated sigh from the driver.
"You know that's not what I mean..." he mutters, "Just tell me how bad this ones going to be."
"If th' rumors I hear 'bout this guy are true, it's gonna' be fuckin' glorious," Zeph replies with an excited glint in his eye.
"Well fuck..." The conductor tsks in irritation as he turns to leave, but pauses and turns his head for one final comment, "I know you apparently have a crush on death, but don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong on this one. He's not the only person on this train, and I'm not looking to cause trouble for the rest of our passengers."
"C'mon, mate. Have some faith. If anythin' goes down an' if I happen t' be close by when it does I'll be watchin' from a safe distance an' not gettin' in anyone's way... Unless they try fuckin' with my charge, obviously." he pats one of the sides of the train.
"Well, good luck with it, then," Marty says as he leaves to go back to the conductor's booth.
"As with you, capt'n," Zeph replies with a grin and short wave, "Safe travels."
After that distraction, leaving him with less than a minute before the deadline he'd given to Maddox, the mechanic decided it'd be better to wait and first bring in his brother before trying to find the third man (woman?) of their team. After three minutes exactly, according to his pocket watch, Zeph glanced through a crack in the door to make sure no one was standing immediately on the other side and, seeing there was just one man on the other side of the room, reopened the Gate and waved Maddox over.
"Your ticket, sir," Zeph said as he pulled a ticket for this ride out of a stack of similar tickets and handed it to Maddox. Long beforehand, he'd convinced a number of people who owed him favors to buy every available ticket leaving Mirrorlight. Three or so tickets each was a small price to pay for a friend, after all. Zeph opened the door to the boiler's flame a crack to toss the rest of the unused tickets inside, effectively destroying them. He didn't know a witch alive who could accurately reconstruct objects which had been turned to ash.
The door opens yet again before he can get another word in with Maddox. He hopes and prays it's their guy, but the mechanic doesn't have the luxury of assumptions. "Sir, as I was just tellin' this other gentleman, this room's for employees only, so I gotta ask ya both--"
"i saw a sparrow fall from a tree."
"Oh thank fuckin' Merlin..." Zeph huffs, also thankful to Maddox for replying with the real response, "I swear, this train company's gotta' start installin' locks on their doors. Anyway, b'fore we start this party, what should I be callin' ya? I'm Zephyr." As he speaks, the mechanic pulls out a blank folded-up scrap of paper and smooths it out on the small table in the corner of the room. With a piece of charcoal, he begins sketching out a line of squares -- train cars -- with a few scrawled symbols alongside each. "An' the two 'f you should switch jackets so folks don't get too suspicious why the person they saw walk in here looks completely different walkin' out." Maddox, after all, was the one who needed to return back to the other passengers -- not their assassin. However, Zeph hadn't yet made any indication of how they could reach their target if not through the car full of people sitting between them and where the holding cell was likely to be.
[attr="class","m2content"]the tickets are neatly tucked into his shirt pocket ( and he takes a moment to lament the probable ruination of the singular 'good shirt' in the events that will follow ); he huffs in amusement at zephyr's own introduction. "i'll put forth a friendly suggestion at the next station," he jokes, knowing full well that his priority at their next stop ( if they should stop at the designated station and not make their own way off the train mid-journey ) is likely to run as far away as possible. a quick turn of attention, and belatedly, he appends his own name to the end of zephyr's instructions by way of introduction. "i'm maddox, by the way."[break][break]
perhaps it is testament to a dubious upbringing that he feels more comfortable leaving his actual name in the hands of a bona fide assassin than some other mission partners that he's encountered.[break][break]
he is quick to remove his jacket, offering it to kasimir for a trade, all while looking curiously at whatever plan his brother is concocting. "how do you want to get there? stealth? or by force?" his specialty lies in the latter, though admittedly he is uncertain to how well that would work in their given situation. "or, if you're fine with crawling up on the roof of a moving vehicle, i could open up a window for you to drop in closer to the holding cell. distract them long enough for you to go in and get it done."
[attr="class","m2icons"]
[attr="class","m2icons2"]
[attr="class","m2hov2"]ONE MAN'S OBSESSION IS ANOTHER MAN'S TRASH
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Aug 7, 2017 12:27:03 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
for a moment, a split second moment like the breath of the universe held within a pinpoint of time, kasimir fears that the two men before him are not his mission partners, fears that he has cast suspicion upon himself like a tattered veil before even the commencement of this mission. it is not an unfamiliar fear though; it is a fear he experiences every time he works with unknown partners, with variables outside those he may research upon before beginning - it is a mark of breathless paranoia, kasimir knows; but that does not stop the ichor spreading through his veins.
"it wasn't a sparrow," the dark-haired man replies, his tone solemn but the grin that tugs at the corners of his lips betrays him - and the sky clears, and kasimir breathes again. the civilian-innocent expression slips off his face to be replaced by his characteristic stoicism, and his body language shifts into one tenser, harder, trained and battle-ready. "welcome aboard."
"thank you." kasimir inclines his head, his eyes grave and his tone decidedly neutral. he takes a moment to study the two men again, deeper this time, with the understanding that the irreverence and joking demeanour they display must mask the danger that lies beneath. just like kasimir. the blond, he decides, wears flippancy and levity like a careful defence, a reckless spirit loud and bright enough that it veils the cracks beneath. the brunet, he thinks, has danger hidden in the depths of his eyes, pushed down deep enough that even the man himself may be able to deny its existence. or perhaps kasimir is projecting, his own experiences casting tainted expectations onto all he meets.
he decides he likes them both anyway.
zephyr. maddox. he commits the names to memory, doubtful as he is as to their truth. ( there was no lie in their expressions, no lie in their voices, but who would be to trusting, so naive as to give a true name to a stranger? but for a moment, a wild, flashfire moment, kasimir is tempted to give his real name ) "sirius," he says instead, the syllables slipping easy from his tongue. he has used this particular alias enough times that it is almost as much his own as 'kasimir' is - even more so, perhaps given the associations of death layered with his false-name. ( in some circles, in some very very specific circles, the name 'sirius' is whispered as interchangeable with death )
but to the present, to the mission. kasimir accepts the jacket from maddox but does not yet give his own. "i am fairly confident no one saw me enter," he says, then eyes the man with an incurable expression ( a glint of humour sparks fleeting in his eyes ). "but perhaps we should finalise a plan before we begin stripping."
his thoughts are quick to turn serious ( sirius, ha! ) though, the mission reasserting its hold on his mind. "stealth, i think, should be the aim." a half-breath of hesitation, his eyes dark. "there are innocents aboard this train." and now, a touch of wryness in his tone. "but i am not adverse to force, should that be required." kasimir, after all, is both - he is stealth by nurture, raised within the space between stars where darkness thrives but ghosts survive; but he is untamed force by nature and birth and blood, fire in his soul and the incandescent rage of summons at his fingertips.
"we could, perhaps, temporarily incapacitate the passengers to allow for unobstructed movement," he begins planning, hardening his heart and forcing his mind into the cold focus of emotionless drive. "a sedative in the food or water supply. if we are fortunate, the guards, or perhaps even the target, may ingest it also. if we time it correctly, it could be assumed that the fatigue is a result of the early hour - else, we may risk alerting the opponents to our presence."
A brief flicker of recognition crossed Zephyr's features at that word. It was the name of a shadow -- an urban legend whispered by some with whom Zephyr had an ear. On one hand, this meant they were working with someone competent. On the other, their target must have indeed been a veritable opponent.
Although he's wary of the assassin's confidence, Zephyr smirks at the joke. "Fair 'nough. I'm just the guide, though. I'll be relyin' on you t' tell me how ya want this done," he replies, nodding along with Maddox's suggestions of different tactics. He finishes his sketch quickly. After all, trains aren't terribly complex if you simplify all of the moving parts of each of the cars into a simple box.
"There's also a whole lot o' folks who're less than innocent," the blonde adds as Sirius proposes a more stealthy route, "B'tween the guards an' the extra mystery passengers, I've never seen a train leavin' at this hour so packed. Those're two groups I ain't keen on fightin', frankly, so I'll gladly agree t' stealth." Plus, he wasn't like his brother or the assassin, who could just blend into a crowd. Not only did Zephyr have a fairly recognizable face due to his scars, but there were others working on the train who already knew who he was. Getting caught as an accomplice to a murder could easily ruin him.
"Well," Zephyr begins after the assassin suggests their first step, sliding the small table with a soft but discordant creek to the center of the three of them, "We're here." He points to one of the boxes of the scrawled map. As he mentions a new features, his finger appropriately shifts it's direction to the adjacent box to the left. "This an' the next car over's for passengers. There's a bar an' food here. An' naturally th' kitchen car on th' other side. Jus' at a glance it looks like they've but a buffer car b'ween th' kitchen an' what they actually wanna transport -- I dunno if it's empty or filled with some kinda other shit, but it's likely that they're keepin' 'im locked up somewhere b'hind there."
He then points to fingers at the adjacent dining and kitchen areas, "If ya wanna try puttin' somethin' in th' food an' drink, all we have's gonna be in here. Just keep in mind I'm not sure how many're gonna wanna eat 'round this hour without a bit o' encouragement. Not that we gotta do this now, but I'm not sure what yer deadlines for gettin' out o' here were."
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Aug 25, 2017 1:11:59 GMT
that was you.
his jacket is taken; it is the comment that follows that makes him stifle a bark of laughter. lightning flashes in his eyes, a pale-grey sliver of light. "oh, shit." he turns to zephyr, looking absolutely delighted, "i like this guy. can we keep him?"
plans follow quickly after -- stealth, it seems, is the common choice. there is talk of a sedative in the water supply; he wonders why anyone would come prepared with sedatives, then, in a brief moment of realisation, realises where he's heard the nam before. now that makes sense.
he commits the roughly-drawn map to memory, listening attentively as his brother explains. whatever lingering smile had remained is smoothed over into neutrality; a finger drums against the side of the table restlessly. "we could try to persuade them," he says, slowly, waving his hand in a manner that would suggest, to a lucky guesser, the use of a particular atheneum scroll. "but i'm not sure if i can get to them all -- it's really more of a one-on-one kind of spell."
an alternative suggestion: "i don't suppose you have that sedative in a sort of dust or gaseous form, do you? i could probably spread that through the train cars."
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Sept 2, 2017 15:34:45 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
recognition flickers across the blond mechanic's face as kasimir introduces himself, a shadow quickly smoothed away, but there long enough for him to note - how he feels about zephyr recognising his alias, he does not know. on one hand, it means that the novice is entrenched enough - or informed enough - of the criminal underworld and the general circles of assassins that he either works with, works for, or has worked with or for the underworld itself. on the other hand, there was no visible disgust or horror - something kasimir still half-expects to see flash through his blue eyes.
the other novice, it seems, boasts no recognition, and kasimir is uncertain as to what he feels about that either.
he ignores the response to his small moment of humour ( though a corner of his mind notes the tiny glow of warmth in his chest - rare is the occasion people like what he has to say ), stepping closer to view the rough map. he commits the layout to memory, studying it all the while for potential routes, weak points, places that could be exploited - there are not many that are not blatant, to kasimir's unsurprised dismay.
( as he proposes sedatives, he notes the brief moment of bemusement, then recognition play across maddox's face. recognition of what, he does not know concretely - but he can suspect. )
"true." he inclines his head in agreement with zephyr's point - at around four o'clock in the morning when the first flushes of dawn have not even begun to touch the horizon, there would not be very many people inclined to meals. there would probably be more people using the water available, but not enough to make any significant difference. ( he carefully notes the odd weight put upon the word 'persuade' by maddox - a spell? a specialised form of spellsinging, perhaps? or atheneum - mental manipulation is quite well within the range of possibility for that affinity, so far as he knows )
"i do have a dust-based sedative," kasimir admits, "however it is not quite as effective as the solvent, and it can be... fairly evident, if one knows what to look for." a pause, a considering look. "what do you mean by being able to spread it throughout the carriages?"
[attr="class","gearcore"] Zeph snorts in amusement at Mads' comment. "I dunno, mate. Ya might wanna find out if he can survive off a diet of pasta first, yeh?"
As they consider tactics, they begin focusing on "persuasion" (by means of aethenium, as Zephyr knows very well) and sedatives, though the crafter is more inclined towards the latter. "I'd stay away from that kind-- actually any kind o' persuasion," he notes, "I've been on enough rides at ungodly hours t' know that there's an unusually high number o' folks in those passenger cars. It wouldn't surprise me if some of 'em know what's goin' on and're here for their own reasons." Thought seed was useful, but it couldn't erase or overwrite knowledge which was already there. Although convincing someone who was indifferent to the situation to stand aside might not be much of a challenge, convincing a follower of Blackwood -- even with magic -- posed a much more complicated challenge and risked much more dangerous consequences.
At no particularly important point in the conversation, Zeph's head twitched to the side, as if he'd just heard someone say his name in a crowd. He stares off into the distance a moment, disregarding the assassin's question of Mads' methods of sedative dispersal. He raises a finger to indicate that they should pause for a moment. "Also, I hate t' rush a good plan, but it looks like we got someone movin' already. Spock's on the roof, an' she says there's a guy she's never seen makin' his way towards the back."
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Sept 3, 2017 9:09:23 GMT
that was you.
a shrug and a nod answers zephyr's reasoning. "right-o, that makes sense," he admits, and turns his attention promptly to the assassin as he speaks, falling quiet as he processes the information. he is, most definitely, not quite skilled enough at atheneum to affect the masses in such a manner, and certainly not to any great extent if they were to be attempting to fulfill their own agenda. his talent lies in other areas.
for a moment, the air around maddox swirls into action -- nothing more than the slightest movement, noticeable only as the purifier's hair curls in the wind ever so slightly, a latent suggestion in the display. "just a little breeze to help it through," he says, eyes trained more on the map than on the assassin. "the carriages are bound to get a little drafty. hopefully, they won't notice a thing."
but there is still the matter of detection, as his partner had pointed out; there is no use in their plan if it is discovered prematurely. they wouldn't even have to know the perpetrators -- the evidence of a sedative would put the passengers on high alert, and, judging by zephyr's own apprehension regarding a direct approach, he gathers that these are the type of people he'd rather not alarm.
"if it's mana-based, i could try to purify it from the trains after it takes effect," maddox offers, though at this point he is grasping at straws. what would one look for in such instances? for all his theoretical knowledge on magical applications as required by purification, there's a considerable learning gap between simply knowing theory and being able to use it in a practical situation ( and though opinions on practical situations would differ, maddox likes to think assisting in an assassination is a very practical situation ).
his train of thought is cut off as a flicker of movement catches his eye: zephyr, raising a finger to deliver the news. he is suddenly aware of the not-so-metaphorical clock ticking down rapidly. "oh, shit. i'll, uh, get the guy and you--" he waves his hand vaguely in kasimir's direction. "--do your thing, i guess?" already, he is moving towards the boiler room door, but pauses with one hand on the frame. "any other ideas?"
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Oct 4, 2017 6:19:16 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
air swirls around maddox's hands, an intangible shimmer that fades with the next breath as if it never was. an wind affinity, kasimir notes, committing the information to memory - though distributing the sedative powder in such a manner may be somewhat more overt than what he would rather, it is still a viable option. "it is not, unfortunately, a mana-based powder," kasimir responds, shaking his head in mild regret. even were it so, would purifying work on it? - though if the purifier in question has suggested it as an option, who is he to question.
any further planning is abruptly cut short as the blond mechanic raises a finger to deliver the news: an approaching person - though the possibility is there, the visit is unlikely, he thinks, to be innocuous. he nods curtly, eyes flickering between maddox and zephyr as he makes his way to the window. "i will scout backwoods guards, then, before returning," he says quietly, then swings out the window, invisibility settling over him as he swiftly climbs up onto the roof.
the train, thankfully, is not operating at too great a speed, making it fairly easy for kasimir to slip across the roof with relative quietness. before he goes any further, however, he drops back into his previously abandoned carriage and leaves an illusionary clone there as well as kirjava - the clone to allay the suspicions of anyone who enters or looks in, kirjava to communicate with his mission partners or to attack hostiles if necessary. with the entirety of the train well within her dematerialising range, should he need her assistance she could still come to his side within seconds.
that done, he darts back out the window and onto the roof, taking note of each suspicious person he spots below.
[attr="class","gearcore"] "Real quick b'fore ya both go -- take these," Zeph says as he reaches into one of his many bags (arm sinking in more deeply than what seemed possible from the outside) to produce six thin, leather rings and hand two to each person present. "Push just a bit o' mana in 'em and these'll let th' person with th' matchin' ring hear what you're hearin'." In a slightly more technical sense, they were small gates which only teleported sound waves. They weren't technically magical on their own since they were designed to shape the mana input into them, rather than actively shape the mana around it with a traditional spell. In a mission like this where Zeph didn't want to be caught, these were good for throwing off athenian investigation efforts.
"I'm gonna' go see if the guards'll let me past 'em for inspections," Zeph added as he stuck one ring in each ear, then tossed his map of the train into the furnace. If he had to guess, he'd say that if they let him past at all, every action he made would have to be monitored by a guard. Even so, it was worth a shot. If he was able to drop half of a portal on the other side, this mission would have been infinitely easier.
He waits for the other two to leave so they don't appear too suspiciously synchronous, completing a quick, actual inspection of the engine room as the seconds tick away.
Meanwhile, a monkey with a fitted train mechanic's cap waves and offers a toothy grin to Kasi as he climbs onto the roof.
"That's Spock. She's not th' talkative type, but let 'er know if ya need anythin'," Zeph's voice, quiet and controlled, flows through the Gate linked to one of Kasi's.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Jan 10, 2018 15:11:29 GMT
that was you.
as always before an expedition, there is a distribution of zephyr-crafted items. it is pure genius, really, and he accepts the rings with a grin, mirroring the actions to place them snugly in his ears. “good luck,” he calls softly after them both, waiting for the assassin to climb out of the window before he, too, takes his leave.
it is only en route to his destination that maddox comes to accept the fact that he has absolutely no clue what the guy looks like exactly, nor what his options of apprehending his target are. “i hope no one has any objections against discreetly knocking the guy out,” maddox murmurs through the earpiece, more statement than question. the distance closes quickly and, try as he might, no new ideas spring to mind. he does spot a conveniently located broom closet though, which only pushes him towards his initial ( and only ) plan of action.
the target remains oblivious throughout, the rumble of the train masking maddox’s movement. it is quick and simple: an elbow to the temple, hard enough to bruise both parties and leave the more unfortunate one unconscious. maddox catches the man before he falls, careful not to drop anything. he leaves the man propped against the in the broom closet and slips back out the door into the main train carriage, sliding into an empty seat from where he awaits further instruction.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 11, 2018 14:27:39 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
he takes the proffered earpiece with mild bemusement and a soft word of gratitude, turning it between his fingers with distant interest before copying his partners in inserting it into his ear. it fits securely, if rather awkwardly, but given the truly useful function it performs, slight discomfort is very little a price to pay.
back on the roof of the train, he offers the monkey resting there a small dip of head in acknowledgement before his illusion of invisibility slips over him again. zephyr's voice sounding in his ear has him stiffening in surprise before the realisation sets in - so this is how the devices function. barely a moment later, maddox's voice also flares to life through the earpiece - a murmured statement about aiding someone into unconsciousness. kasimir frowns, wanting to caution against such actions that would raise suspicion if anyone noticed, but also recognising that he is far too late for that. he will simply have to trust in his partners' instincts, then ( a rather difficult task, given that they are both complete strangers ).
"perhaps, later, i can attempt to impersonate the one whom you just knocked out," he murmurs into the earpiece. borrowing another's appearance may be of use - but it is also a tactic to be cautious of given that kasimir knows nothing about the victim's personality, affiliation, or orders.
he makes his way towards the front of the train carefully, taking care neither to make too much noise, nor to let his illusion waver. perhaps not all the caution is entirely necessary, but kasimir prefers to be safe rather than sorry. at every carriage joining, and every so often, he manoeuvres down to peer through the windows and into the train, taking note of customers and the suspicious clusters of people lounging near some of the doors. the further forwards he goes, the less there seem to be of people he can definitively identify as civilian- until, in the second carriage from the front of the train, he finds all windows and doors blocked off as well as a visible police presence.
ah, he thinks. swinging himself back up onto the roof, and moving back a carriage for good measure, kasimir taps his earpiece to hopefully gain his partners' attention, before very softly speaking into it. "blackwood is likely in the second carriage," he reports, eyes trained on said carriage. the few police members he can see from his vantage point do not seem alarmed or agitated, which is a point in their favour. "the entire carriage is sectioned off, and entirely filled with guards. each carriage leading up to it appears to contain an increasing number of police in civilian uniform - they seem relatively easy to spot, however."
