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Post by Krakenbox on Oct 5, 2020 20:54:15 GMT -8
 A basic search for Babylon Investors did provide a business address in Naked City, north of the Strip and outside any sanctioned Freehold territory, which meant Smudge 's activity was free reign. Aggressive real estate had taken the district in recent history, in the hopes that affordable housing and an upswing of commercial businesses with some tourist attractions would battle the rampant crime and poverty baked into the desert concrete. Even the famous Stratosphere casino rebranded itself as simply the STRAT hotel, but thus far the efforts for gentrification had largely failed, and locals warned the streaming bodies to avoid dark alleys while websites marked the location as a No-Go for travel. Given his visions of a new designer narcotic being involved and the general location, this likely wasn't the safest venture. The Darkling had lots of options for approach, given his gifts on top of mundane skills. Was he going to go in person, call in reinforcements? Or do some classic recon? |
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Post by Smudge on Oct 12, 2020 12:44:25 GMT -8
Smudge makes his way towards the office building, but doesn't make his way in yet. As far as the Freehold was concerned, this was No-Man's Land, and to make matters even worse, it was an open secret that the surrounding area was dangerous. The Darkling was no warrior, and his 'secret agent' skillset was not exactly up to par, so he will have to rely on whatever common sense and Arcadian gifts he has at his disposal. His outfit is thrift store quality at best, and slung over his shoulder was a bag with art supplies, as well as some odds and ends. He hangs around the building, but decides to... observe, for the moment. Looking at anything out of place, or if anyone suspicious enters or leaves the building. A small tithe of Glamour should pull him out of everybody's minds as long as he doesn't do anything too violent. And he won't - as far as Smudge is concerned, this is a two-man job, and the Mirrorskin has just the person in mind for that. He sends a text to RowanGot a minute to help me out with something? I'm at [ADDRESS]. Looks like a club-related issue. And then he waits. Wits+Composure for general perception around the office building
@Dicecord-CoD roll 7
Dicecord-CoD
BOT
Today at 22:25
@Woland rolled 7 dice and got 5 successes. 9 5 8 8 10(6) 2 10(1)
Masterfully done, @Woland!
Light-Shy activated, -1 Glamour |
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Post by Rowan on Oct 12, 2020 14:36:24 GMT -8
Rowan was still at school when his burner phone chimed. After convincing himself that no, he wasn't being paranoid, he was being careful, he checked the message. There were few people who had this particular number. Sounds fun, I'm in. There soon.
Technically, his shift was about to start, but even if he were to leave now, no one would probably notice. He locks up the janitor's room and heads to the bus stop. It was a cloudy day, but the sun was setting and the clouds were leaving. Soon, the temperature would fall. Good. The bus ride was a bore. Thankfully, since the work day hadn't ended yet, it was very crowded and Rowan could safely sit by himself. He missed the bus ride home from school.
Some time later, he is walking down a street in Naked City, getting closer to the address provided by Smudge, still wearing his janitor's jumper. The few pedestrians he meets barely look it his direction at all. There was quiet confidence in the Darkling's gait, secure in his knowledge that few things, even in this infamous part of town, could ever compare to the horrors of an Arcadian hunting party.
The building in question was much like Rowan himself: unassuming, bland and easily overlooked. The Snowskin brings his frostbitten hands to his mouth, blows into them and rubs them together. Twenty years of old habits die hard, even in the desert heat. He looks around, trying to spot Smudge. Not seeing the other Courtier, Rowan grabs a newspaper from the closest bin and sits on the sidewalk, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Not cool, dude, he thinks, annoyed by Smudge's tardiness. Better have a friggin' slip for that.
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Post by Krakenbox on Oct 13, 2020 12:19:51 GMT -8
The cloak of memories burst from the environment, spraying like a wave of spilled ink across reality's canvas. Half-formed landscapes create snapshots of the world of another time, shifting until the shadows and palette match to tuck the Darkling away from prying eyes. From the muddied waters, Smudge gazes outward, light playing across his reflective skin as he watches behind the veil.
Shadowing the filtering clientele, there doesn't seem to be any specific pattern to a dress code. At first, it's hard to determine who is coming and going for Babylon versus the other businesses nested in the complex. However, patience and a trained eye pays off.
There's higher traffic with those of Latinx descent, with women few and far between. Smudge overhears a phone conversation about moving product. There's more than one casually dressed person with locked suitcases that would look more in place at a courthouse or Wall Street. He starts putting two and two together that this is more than likely a laundering operation, and rather than clients, the people who bother popping over are gang affiliated. He counts three now that didn't hide their firearms well.
Was this a lab? Not likely——probably just serving as a waypoint for legitimate investing office work. Judging by the shared space and the lack of alarms going off with the less-than-subtle criminal, security isn't tight. Entry is done via dialing the right office, and he gets the code.
The biggest tidbit, however, is an argument with one of the guys over the phone (thankfully, the receiving end was forcing the conversation into English). There was a recent territory dispute with the Pinoy Boyz, and blatant confusion on how the two unaffiliated groups could be housing the same designer drug. Their cook was legit. How did the method get leaked?
Smudge almost misses the janitor, blending in with the landscape without the aid of magic, until Rowan's tic of warming his hands brings his attention. There's the familiar uncomfortable feeling of someone speaking just behind him.
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Post by Smudge on Oct 15, 2020 2:12:11 GMT -8
It didn't take long for Rowan to arrive at the designated spot. Or maybe it did, the Mirrorskin couldn't tell if he tried, he was too preocuppied with his reconaissance and the plethora of information gained. It was a lot to think about and sort through, but the point is there are now two Darklings where previously there was only one.
"There you are." He says to Rowan with a small smile "So here's the book plot summary: one day a guy learns a shady firm called Babylon Investors wants to pour money into a store he cares about. He suspects babylon has ties to drug-dealing, and when he looks around the place, it's pretty much confirmed. There are some expensive suits around, some guns, but it's not exactly Fort Knox. Funniest thing? The designer substance Babylon peddles apparently made its way to rival groups... somehow."
As far as the Darkling was concerned, it was an acceptable compromise between speaking in code to not get immediately flagged as odd, and actually communicating valuable information, so that they don't spend the rest of the day figuring out what is being said.
"The guy is not a gumshoe, or a commando, so he calls another guy to make it a legitimate two-man job. He asks that other guy what the best method of approach is."
Was Rowan either of these things? Smudge didn't know, but his infiltration capabilities cannot possibly be any lower than those of a struggling visual arts adept.
"What happens next?"
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Post by Rowan on Oct 15, 2020 15:47:29 GMT -8
The voice comes from nowhere. Literally from thin air. Rowan's first reflex is to throw the newspaper into the air and bolt. His survival instinct overwrites that reflex, locking is body in place. In the Dark Forest, movement often meant capture. And so he sits there, not giving the slightest sign of surprise. He barely looks up when he gives his answer. The heck is he talking about? is his thought. He takes a moment to think about it, keeping his face as calm as an ice statue (see roll).
"Well, for starters, the other guy says that it's nice to see him too," he says in his usual cold tone.
That should buy him some time. His gears are turning. Is this Autumn code? Improv? Mandatory summer reading? He looks over the building, the people coming in and out. Oh. That's what Smudge meant.
"Then, he says that he could sneak both of them in when it gets darker. He also points out that his companion's face seems to be very malleable, perfect for infiltration."
He then looks down at his janitor's outfit and arches an eyebrow. The setting sun worked in their favor, creating patches of darkness that Rowan could potentially utilize as cover. Sometimes, the best cover doesn't need Glamour to work. Sometimes, it's just a matter of looking like you belong. All the same, he checks his messenger bag for the necessary components, making sure he didn't forget anything home.
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Post by Smudge on Oct 18, 2020 12:21:36 GMT -8
Did he emerge from a cut in the air? or was he always there, but only flowing into everyone's minds now that the cloak of Glamour has dissipated?
Doesn't matter. The point is that Smudge's wholly unremarkable presence
"Sorry." he sounds genuinely apologetic "It's just that... I tend to get one-tracked about these things? 'Sides, the plot hits a little too close to home, if you know what I mean."
or maybe he didn't. Regardless, they can go for drinks, or read books together or have a sleepover+pillow fight later. Right now something needs to be done about Babylon, or the Mirrorskin is going to go nuts.
"If both characters could be snuck in, that'd be awesome... but there's the question of how that could happen without straining suspension of disbelief too much. Also, once in, a face could be stretched to resemble an employee giving the newest cleaning crew member the lay of the land."
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Post by Rowan on Oct 19, 2020 12:07:58 GMT -8
Was this guy being for real? Rowan's composure was getting strained.
"Are you new to this? You just popped out of nowhere. Just do that again, and don't worry about me."
He did know he was a Darkling, right? What that entailed, what that allowed him to do? Or was it Rowan who knew too much, from gorging on other Changelings' shadows for too long? He fought hard to not roll his eyes.
He was wearing his job uniform, and people didn't like talking to janitors for too long. No one bothered with the help, so getting in shouldn't be too hard. Contracts were usually a last resort for him. No sense in slinging Glamour needlessly.
"First job?" he asked. "Why are we even bothering with this? I thought drugs were Spring's turf."
If he was going to risk his neck, he needed to know why, at least. His show of good faith ended when he actually showed up here.
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Post by Smudge on Oct 21, 2020 11:42:17 GMT -8
He scoffs. Smudge wasn't a veteran changeling, and he had even less experience with covert missions like the one they are about to pull off, but he didn't escape a literal hell to be talked down to like this, especially by someone of comparable connection to the Season.
"Sure, whatever you say Ethan Hunt." He says sarcastically "We're bothering with this, because the controlled substances are becoming a little too uncontrolled for my taste. Nevermind the fact that they pop up where they shouldn't, people are literally killing themselves over this stuff, and in my book that's Fifty Shades of Not Cool. Besides, it's No Man's Land, so we're good."
He knew some of the older Lost didn't care about mundanes that much, the increasing power of Wyrd and the passing years taking a toll on their human minds. But Smudge wasn't at that point yet, and frankly? He hoped he never will be.
"But, you know..." He shrugs, but his silvery face bears a shit-eating grin "If you're not up to it, I can deal with the problem myself."
If Rowan wants to shove it into Smudge's face how experienced he is? The Mirrorskin will gladly provide an opportunity for him to prove it.
Come on, tough guy. Show the rookie how it's done.
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Post by Rowan on Oct 21, 2020 14:49:56 GMT -8
"All I'm saying is that you're overthinking this. What we are, it's inherently magic, and we're going up against normal people. Besides, we were made for this, or we wouldn't be here."
Rowan was referring to their Durance. They were Darklings, dang it. Blending it with shadows came as naturally as breathing to them. Plus, with Contracts thrown on top of that, the Snowskin wasn't worried, and didn't understand why the other was.
"Who's Ethan Hunt? Is he local?"
Was Smudge trying to goad him into helping him? Oh, that was hilarious, and it was working on some level. If anything, Rowan wanted to be there to see the guy mess up. He stared him down, eyes squinted in suspicion, weighing the pros and cons. He'd already decided on helping, but the other didn't need to know that.
"Fine. Whatever. I don't want to have to explain why Fall has suddenly one less Courtier. But this is your op."
He'd given options, possible plans. But if Smudge wanted to play tough, he could continue doing that and making actual decisions.
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Post by Smudge on Oct 26, 2020 1:22:11 GMT -8
"I'm just being cautious."
He watched Rowan squint suspiciously. He seemed to have confidence that went beyond their shared Seeming, but Smudge lacked that kind of aplomb. Which was also why he asked Rowan to be here in the first place, but...
Let's just get this done.
"And you won't have to." The Mirrorskin says resolutely. He may not be a security expert like Rowan over there, but he did have some talent for sneaking and the composure to not freak at the first sight of danger "So here's the plan: I'll don a mask and we will get in under the pretense of being new employees in the building. Once there, we split up to cover more ground and not trip over one another. We meet back in this exact spot an hour from now. Sounds good?"
It certainly did to him.
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Post by Krakenbox on Oct 28, 2020 12:29:02 GMT -8
The building is a high rise, the investment company on the fifth floor. Smudge already scoped the code to enter into the magnetic lock from his earlier scouting, but the traffic was average, averaging at a person or a small group coming and going every couple of minutes or so. As mentioned before, it's a mix, not everyone necessarily being connected with Babylon. There would be a maintenance entrance and fire exit, and a small underground parking that politely requested that clients for the dentist register their plates.
A Brinks truck begins backing in for a pickup, while a pair of women if office clothes chatter with a tray of several coffees between them approach the doorway. There's also a cleaning company pressure washing the windows and using a scaffold.
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Post by Rowan on Oct 28, 2020 19:49:42 GMT -8
(Swapping the Urban Legend Aspiration for Make a Fren :3)
He took a deep breath. Obviously, they got off on the wrong foot. He always did that, every single time he tried to reach out to someone. No, no this time, he thought. This time, I'll make a friend.
"Look. Sorry for coming off cold. I'm in this, 100%. We'll see this through." Then he turned to the building. "Go through the main entrance, then let me in through maintenance? Less conspicuous that way."
He took his newspaper and assumed the slightly slouched walk of the menial worker. The eye always looks for what's missing, so that wasn't the goal here. He needed to belong.
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Post by Smudge on Oct 31, 2020 16:13:03 GMT -8
He waves his hand dismissively, clearly not holding any grudges. The Mirrorskin wasn't flighty, but his emotions were often as malleable as his face "It's a stressful situation for us all. Let's do this and see where it takes us." The Darkling nods to the suggestion of letting Rowan in through the maintenance door and proceeds to the main entrance.
Finding himself a quiet corner, Smudge calls on his Arcadian heritage to make his face move. It whirls like stirred water to eventually settle on the look he will wear tonight: that of a middle-aged Hispanic man. Thankfully, the Darkling knows the code, so he can just waltz in - right? He plans to acknowledge the presence of any people he encounters on his way to the maintenance door, but he won't speak if he can help it - every conversation is a delay, and an opportunity to get noticed, remembered.
Smudge starts walking.
3 successes on Mercurial Visage activation roll
1 success on Manipulation+Subterfuge to look like he belongs
(Swapping "Find a patron of the arts" for "Uncover the role of Babylon in the production of the drug" as Aspiration)
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Post by Krakenbox on Nov 1, 2020 15:27:11 GMT -8
Smudge's Mask ripples as his hands disturb the surface of the lake, a new reflection staring back into the world. His relaxed aura easily adopts a swagger that is forgettable, a generic face in the sea of traffic as the code is entered and the fortress breached. Cool as a cucumber.  The lobby was pretty straight forward: a placard in the center showing the names of companies and a few doctors for both a family practice and a dentist. There were stairs that wove up the floors, and multiple elevators for convenience and mobility access. Babylon Investors was the fifth floor.  Smudge takes a couple of minutes to follow the wood paneled hallway along the far end of the lobby towards the fire exit, entering the bare concrete stairwell with a door under the overhang, tagged Employees Only. On the other side is likely a break room, bathrooms, and supply closet——as well as the entrance from outside. It's locked with a generic tumbler instead of the updated magnetic code outside. The fire exit has a clear warning that opening would trigger the evacuation alarm, along with the number for the local fire department. Meanwhile, Rowan comfortably walks around the outside, seeing the fire exit sign, and the series of windows climbing up the side to show the maintenance stairwell. Around the corner is a discreet entrance into the office for sanitation services. As expected, it is locked, and he casually hovers around the designated smoking area while he waits a reasonable amount of time for Smudge to open the door. |
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