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Jay 2K Winger 05-07-2012 06:55 PM

Children of The Divine (IC)
(( OOC Thread: ))

You are the children of the Divinity, and you have been chosen to help save the world.

While your Divine parents are busy in the godly plane, battling the Titans and their most potent of monsters themselves, you have been tasked with fighting the Titans' forces in the world. You have helped defeat relatively minor schemes here and there, at the most recent about six months ago.

In the interim, time has passed quietly as you rest, recover, and/or recuperate from your last adventure. None of your escapades have made the news, either because it didn't hit the networks' radar, or because Someone made sure it didn't make headlines. In any case, it's been a good break for you.

Then, around a week ago, you received a message. In most cases, it was a letter, in a large brown envelope, bearing a stamp unlike any the post office carries. The stamp depicts a golden symbol, and that symbol varies depending on the pantheon in question, and it tingles to the touch, a sure sign that it's come from the Divinity after a fashion.

While the letter's exact contents vary, it follows a definite form. The letter-writer conveys the gratitude of the Divinity and the world for helping to stop whatever adventure had last been involved. They go on to add that their actions will not go unrewarded, but the recipient will understand if current events preclude the bestowing of such rewards for the time being. In the meantime, however your presence is required at a summit for a matter of grave importance.

Included in the envelope with the letter is a first-class ticket to Las Vegas, Nevada. Also, because the person responsible for sending these messages has a bit of an ego, there's an additional note: Looking forward to seeing you again! and an autographed 8x10 from Johnny Mercury.

While most of the scions had received the above, there may have been one or two cases wherein a more personal, direct approach was required...
================================================== ==
(( All right, a few things to note. All of your characters know of Johnny Mercury-- well-known actor that he is-- and it's known to the Divine community that he's one of them, and one of the more active "messengers of the gods." They may have met him personally once, even, but he's not exactly friends with anyone.

Now it's time for the introductory posts! Give us all an inkling of what your character's been up to, what they recently did in their most recent mission, where they are when they get the message, and whether they're receiving a letter or a face-to-face meeting. If the latter, note that in the post, and I'll respond in kind. It will either be Johnny Mercury or another scion coming to deliver the message and tickets.

All that clear? If not, post it in the OOC thread. ))

Naamah 05-07-2012 09:56 PM

Aiden Mistel 1: A Fly In My Drink
[[Thanks to Jay for the co-op work with Johnny.]]

It's a rainy night in New Haven.

The lilting call of a flute rises, echoes against the water-streaked windows, and floats into the second floor hall of the Yale University Art Gallery. The administration had organized a booze up -- erm, that is to say, an excuse to beg money from rich alumni -- wait, no, sorry, a small private exhibition for friends of the Arts and the University.

Aiden leans into his chair and lets the warmth of his punch cover him like a blanket. Some acquaintance or another had tipped him off to the party, and his uncle's name accompanying a case of Grey Goose easily opening the door for him. The woman next to him, Cheryl, is chatting about the terrible weather and how it’s been simply wrecking her plans to take her yacht out on a fishing trip.

And then, a sense in his brain itches. It’s not a pleasant signal to him, but he shrugs it off. Probably some Unawakened kidlet, cleaning the trash up for work-study downstairs. Plenty of good, solid, uneventful reasons why--

“Oh My God, Becky, look! It’s Johnny Mercury!!”

His eyes squeeze shut, and he downs the rest of his drink without a word.

Still - Aiden breathes out slowly - this wasn’t the worst possible option. Maybe Johnny had a crush on some Yale grad eye-candy. Perhaps he’d just been invited too, nothing to be alarmed about...

"AIDEN!" The hand slaps down on a shoulder, and there's Johnny, all smiles. The Aesir-kin froze. "Y'know," voice slurred slightly, as if he'd been drinking juuust a bit too much, "never did thank ya for that advice ya had, in investin' in that company 'r other, y'know, what wuzzit called again?"

"It was Instagram, Johnny." A forlorn smile draws on Aiden's lips, and he stands up to place an arm over his acquaintance. "You've overindulged, my friend."

A grin from the movie star. "Tha'ss right. Instagram, great advice, really 'preciate it." At the arm, Johnny shrugs it off and waves a hand expansively. "What? I'm not, trust me, I've drunk worse." And then he takes a step backwards, loses balance slightly, and pinwheels his arms to keep upright, before pitching forward and locking an arm around Aiden's shoulders. The actor blinks a few times. "Mebbe I should sit down..."

Aiden's smile never wavers, but his eyes glint with frustration. "Cheryl, I'm so very sorry, I'll catch up with you later." He puts his arm around Johnny's back, discreetly digging his nails into his side in payback. "There's a little alcove over this way, a touch more quiet. Won't you sit down with me there and let us catch up?"

Johnny is duly led away, not without one last call out of "Umberto, ya old dog! What a night we had in Chinatown that time, yeah?" leading to the man in question flushing hotly under the sudden gaze of his wife, before Aiden sequesters him in the alcove. He sits down heavily on a bench, and people left them alone. As soon as they have their privacy, Johnny leans back, and his voice becomes less booming, and a lot more sober. "Nice people, these, Mistel. They do know how to throw a party. Bit stuffy for my tastes."

"It’s the afterparty you wait for. And you. You are a godsawful pain in my ass, Johnny." Aiden's voice doesn’t raise, but his tone could frost over the Sahara. "My accounts finally got over the last escapade you got me into - the one I ended up having to bankroll, remember? My accountant is - well, she's just drinking recreationally now. The scarring from the Asp venom is almost faded away, and it's possible that Sunshine Sukiyaki might not kick me in the face next time she meets me. But like the fly in my drink, just as I come to sip, you bob up in my face."

True to form, Johnny never stops smiling, even as Aiden's chilly declamation washes over him. "Relax, Misty, this time around you're not expected to bankroll anything. I roped Hays into doing it this time." He shakes his head as he gestures expansively again. "No, this time, you're just being asked to help stop another scheme of the Other Side."

"You're missing my point. Deliberately." Aiden waves at a pair passing by them.. "You've got plenty of other su-- ahem, eager recruits ready and waiting to honor their heritage and fight the Good Fight for the world. And yet I'm the one with the personal invitation. Why did you come to me yourself?"

The passing couple gets a cheery, tipsy wave from Johnny as well, and then he looks back at Aiden. "Because we're two peas in a pod, we are!" he declares, grinning in that inimitable way of his. Then he sobers, "And because the Powers That Be knew if they sent you a letter saying 'Get to Vegas, we need your help with something,' you'd hop on a cruise ship, chuck your mobile over the side, stick your fingers in your ears and go 'I can't hear you la la la.'"

Johnny sucks the remainder of his drink out of his glass, squints into it as if to detect any remnant of liquor within, then goes on, "And then I'd get sent to go find you, and there'd be all manner of questions about how I snuck onto the boat in the first place, and a whole mess of problems, and you'd end up getting dragged to Vegas anyway. So, I cut the knot and came in person."

Aiden looks down at the back of his hands. Then up to the violin quartet. Then to the side, out into the rain. "You know what I asked for, last time."

Johnny raises an eyebrow at this. "Setting terms now?" he says. "You know it isn't given away freely. Hell, even with all They're having me do-- jetting all over the godsdamn world and delivering messages hither and yon-- I haven't gotten more than a drop."

There is a pause as the actor leans his head back and stares at the ceiling, fingers drumming on the back of the bench. "I'll pass the message along. It'd be up to Them. Meantime, it might be best if you just get to Vegas." He pauses, then adds, "If you decline, they'll just send someone else. And it'll probably be Solomon."

"Sol?" He rolls his eyes. "You are joking. That absolute twit. You... oh, right, Trickster tactic number one: playing on their ego. Right." He bites his tongue for a moment. "Fine. I'll go. But if I get splattered in who-knows-what kind of acidic venom again, or sliced up by another crazy woman with a scimitar, or whatever, either Asclepius or your Daddy is going to heal me up. No arguments, shake on it."

Johnny smiles. "Far as I know, there shouldn't be any venom-spitting going on, but then, they don't always give me all the details." He stuck out a hand. "Deal."

"And if you're bankrolling it, I expect first class seats."

"Of course you'll get first class! We take care of our own. There'll be a ticket waiting for you back at your place." After shaking hands, Johnny lurches to his feet, and the tipsiness routine comes back. "'s great seein' ya again, Aiden! Ser'ously, great seein' ya, we'll have to do lunch sometime, I know this great shawarma place we should go to sometime..." and then he's gone into the crowd, the occasional outburst following as he saw someone he knew, and then this too fades.

Aiden leans back, the hands over his face hiding the look of utter dismay crossing over them. He reaches out to pluck a flute of bubbly off a passing tray, tipped the entire draught down his throat, and exhales. Then he lifts up his cell phone.

“Hey. Kerry. Sorry for the late call, I’ll make it up to you. Do me a favor and cash in some of my points at the Bellagio, I’m going to need a room.” He paused, his lips turning into a twist. “Put the bottle down. I heard you open it..”

Kheldarson 05-08-2012 12:22 AM

Deann barely glanced at the photo when it fell out of the envelope, tossing it onto a nearby dresser or tabletop. Whatever flat surface happened to be nearby in the house. It slipped and fell on the floor anyway. Thank the gods it was her day off--explaining this type of letter at work--again--would be hard.

It had been an enjoyable six months--once her bosses had finally forgiven her for the "family emergency". Family emergency. Hah. As if scouring sections of the Appalachian Trail for Titanspawn and some still unnamed and, as far as she knew, unfound artifact was an emergency. Now, it having been found and possibly taken by the Spawn, sure. Just trying to find it on vague rumors? Bullshit.

Although the hiking had been nice.

Guess she had to set up some vacation time...

Chanlin 05-08-2012 12:41 AM

In a small office in Chiago a light burns brightly as Emmett Jager reviews his personal notes from an old case. Lord knows he needed something to get his mind of the usual string "My Spouse is a lousy bastard" cases, at least they paid the bills. Besides, there was something that had been nagging at him ever since finishing that he hadn't quite been able to puzzle out.

The case had started like any other, a child was missing, distraught parents came in person to plead with him since the police wouldn't take it before 48 hours. EJ had guessed rightly that the father wasn't her bio dad. It had been refreshing, and the reason he took the case, to see the step-father as equally distraught as the kid's real mom. As it turned out the kid had run away because she had been raped by a fellow student and was too embarrassed to tell anyone about it. EJ had helped the parents get in touch with a friend of his at the Chicago PD so they could file formal charges. Over the course of the case it came out that the kid had a ring that was important to the father as well. That ring was still missing, and something about the circumstances nagged in the back of his mind.

When the bell over his office door signaled a visitor he didn't look up. "Sorry, I'm not taking any new cases tonight, if you come back in the morning, or leave some contact info I will call you."

Jay 2K Winger 05-08-2012 03:33 PM

Location: Chicago - E.J.'s Office

"That's okay," a voice says. "I'll let myself in." When Emmett looks up, he'd see the unmistakeable grin of Johnny Mercury, as the Divinity's messenger finishes stepping through the door as if it were naught but smoke.

The actor holds up his hands. He's not carrying any visible weaponry, and the only thing in his hands is a brown envelope. "Relax, Jager-meister," Johnny Merc says with a smile. "I come in peace." Then, just in case Emmett forgot who he is, and because he has an ego, he adds, "Johnny Mercury, movie star and Messenger of The Gods."

He makes himself comfortable in a chair in the office, looking around at whatever decor that Emmett has. "I have a few messages to pass along," he says. "First, Horace Farrow says thanks for the help on that lead he had on Wadjet's daughter. Weren't for you, it's likely she'd have gotten tangled up with Seth, and we don't need that monstrosity getting his hands on anyone else."

He taps the envelope against the arms of the chair as he adds, "Oh, and Selene wanted to say, she's following up on her own leads, trying to find that ring for you." Off any sort of reaction, Johnny holds up his hands. "Don't ask me how she knows. You know her-- she finds out everyone's secrets, especially if they're online."

He waves this aside. "Regardless, I'm mostly here to make a delivery," and he holds out the envelope. "Ordinarily, I'd have just dropped this in the mail slot, but, well, I was passing through, making sure that other P.I. in town, Mister-what-thinks-he's-a-wizard, is keeping out of trouble, so I figured I'd do this all personal like."

The envelope, when opened, would have the same kind of letter, and the plane ticket. In this case, however, no 8x10.

Chanlin 05-08-2012 04:58 PM

Location: Chicago - E.J.'s Office

Emmett glances up at the voice of Johnny Mercury. His eyes track his movement, his stare perhaps a bit too intent as though he is looking through him rather than at him (soul gazing just to be sure, Johnny would be used to this since he does it EVERY time). He quirks an eyebrow at "the other PI" comment.

"Just passing through. And here I was about to get all self important." He opens the envelope and reads over the note and looks at the ticket. "First class, I'm flattered."

He picks up his office phone dials a number, "Hey Murray, I'm going out of town for awhile, I'm going to direct a few clients whose cases can't wait your way." He pauses, "Yeah Mur, sure, uh huh. Yeah, thanks man." He hangs up and glances at Johnny, "You'll have to send Selene my thanks next time you're 'just passing through' her part of wherever. I just hope she has had more luck than I have."

He sighs, "So any idea what we're getting into? Or is it the usual 'Don't ask me I'm just the messenger' schtick?"

Jay 2K Winger 05-08-2012 05:22 PM

Location: Chicago - E.J.'s Office

Johnny Mercury shows no sign of bother at the piercing stare. He's an actor, a frequent figure on TMZ and the occasional newsstand tabloid cover story, so he's quite used to people staring. "Of course it's first class!" he declares, grinning. "We look after our own."

He rises. "I don't usually 'just pass through' Selene's neck of the woods. She'll hear about your thanks soon enough anyway." As he heads for the door, he turns and spreads his hands. "That's my lot in life, E.J. I'm the messenger. But I know this much: this is something big. Might want to prep for it."

And then he steps back through the door and is gone.

Scorpodael 05-10-2012 04:43 AM

A week ago, Jack Childs had opened the door to his rented home in Omaha to find a letter. The day after, he had started making arrangements for his shop to run without him for "awhile". Four days ago, he'd packed his bags, putting together insulated packages of meat at the bottom of his bag, along with ice packs, various toiletries, and clothes. And today, he is on a bus, being driven through whichever godsforsaken desert it was that lay between him and his destination...

The man doesn't care much for this at all. He never did. That... thing that had been snatching up runaways? He would've killed it without being ordered to. It'd taken a hell of a lot of stabbing, though. But the desert... He isn't good with deserts. He doesn't know how he knows it, but that's hardly surprising. Half of his life- from the time he'd discovered what he was up until the time of the accident- was pretty much a blur. Part of the reason that he was even on this bus was simply pique, a desire to completely ignore the gift of a free ride. The other part was his knife. He certainly isn't going to leave it behind, or let anyone else handle it. It's his. It's special. And it's a deadly weapon of the sort you don't want to carry around in an airport. Bus security is a hell of a lot easier to get past... stuff the knife in his bag, and he's done.

Jack shifts slightly in his seat, his whirlwind thoughts helping to take the edge off... The letter he'd received. What a piece of work that was. Vague, faintly insulting, with all the personality of a movie star behind it- compelling, but scripted to achieve a desired result. He sighs a bit. It probably WAS something important... but not in the ways that he'd expect. One thing doesn't necessarily lead to another, after all. So many heartbeats all around him... Strong, mortal heartbeats. Some stronger than others. He closes his eyes, and just focuses on them, the steady, discordant rhythm of the hearts of two dozen strangers bringing him another measure of calm...

Naamah 05-10-2012 03:09 PM

Location: Summer’s Cafe, Las Vegas

Thirty-nine hours, one cross-country flight, two hangovers, and one trip to a Michael’s later - actually, hangover #2 is still being an late staying guest, so take that under consideration - and Aiden is in the wonderful city of Las Vegas.


With fatigue settling on his eyelids, he cleans up as well as he can at the hotel, tossing on a pair of khakis and a t-shirt with some weathered 80’s version of an advertising logo on it. It’s too godsawful hot here even in early May for him to go around in business casual.

Then he picks up the bag from Michael’s and sets out.

Summer’s Cafe is a nice cozy place, a storefront the drunks and malcontents let their eyes pass over easily. Aiden was impressed by the discreet charms on it the first time he’d come. They brewed a quality cup of coffee and their espresso was pulled by hand. And, if you talk to the owner the right way and pass her a twenty, she’ll drip in some of her homemade hangover remedy - the kind a scion of a healing deity would make, the kind that really did work. Aiden had never been so rude as to inquire about the particulars of her heritage, of course.

He settles himself into a chair in a corner, nibbles slowly on a digestive biscuit while sipping the hot coffee. And when his brain pushes enough of the cobwebs out of the way, he retrieves his parcel and begins work.

Needle through the loop, yarn around the needle, pull it through and pull it off.

He’d seen cold in the future when he’d wound the thread. Perhaps a nice fluffy scarf.

[Please feel free to drop in and introduce yourself. While I don’t think Aiden’s worked with any of these particular scions before, they may have seen him in passing at one point or another.]

Chanlin 05-11-2012 03:24 AM

Location: Summer’s Cafe, Las Vegas

The one perk to living in Chicago is getting many one way flights to most major cities in the US. A lazy and relaxing 3 and a half hours later EJ finds himself on the ground. Checking some details he got from a friend he books a cab and heads out to get a room and some decent non-airline coffee.

After inquiring at the hotel, perhaps by chance, perhaps by fate, he finds himself at Summer's Cafe. His well worn trenchcoat seems, perhaps, a bit out of place. Wandering over to the counter after briefly scanning the crowd he orders a plain black coffee and a piece of apple pie. He smiles as the serving girl hands over his order, "Congratulations."

She seems a bit surprised but grins widely, "How could you tell?" In answer he holds up his hand and points to his ring finger. He silently takes his order and scans the crowd again. Ever since coming through the door his sixth sense had been going off though he hadn't quite yet determined if more than one like himself were present. Scanning over the crowd again his eyes settle on a man in the back working a needle and yarn.

He walks over with a cordial grin, "Mind if I sit here?"

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