quote:

The man sits in the chair wearing his charcoal grey suit and polished wingtips and sips the tea almost boiling from his cup. "Did you know I was in the neighborhood last night?" he asks.

His name is Tattervane. He is not well-known. When he arrived he was wearing a porkpie hat, but he removed it when he came in. When he is spoken of at all, it is because he is both an Acanthus and a Guardian of the Veil, and thus a mild curiosity. He is not a young man. He is not an old man. His hair is also grey, and on some days his eyes are blue, and on others they are green. In Atlanta, in the late eighties, there had been an Acanthus of moderate stature who had gone mad, declared himself a "servant of the True Fae," and thrown in with some rather amusing local creatures calling themselves "changelings," so Tattervane killed him. You've been told he smiles when reminded of this, and perhaps that is why he is smiling now. Perhaps not.

"No," you say, though you doubt he really expected an answer.

"I was on a spot of business for the Consilium," he says in a cultured New England accent he is almost certainly affecting. "Guardian business, you understand. Wink-wink, nudge-nudge, all that." There's a certain chummy humor in his tone, but an edge, too; you remember a fellow novice once saying of Tattervane that he took both his irony and his job very, very seriously, and woe betide those who got in the way of either. And now as he sits across from you begin to wonder what, precisely, his job entails. What does Tattervane do for the Guardians of the Veil? Here he sits in your study just before midnight after materializing at your door with nothing more than a chipper knock and a smile and a "I thought we might have a word." Is he on a spot of business for the Consilium now?

"You do understand, don't you?" Tattervane says, fingers steepled, the cup of tea now set aside, and you realize you've been staring.

"Of course," you say.

"You know, I always find it funny how coincidence works. Last night I was following this charming young lady by the name of...well, you probably know her as 'Kasia.' I believe the two of you have met?" he asks, virginally innocent. He knows you're not. Your throat goes dry and you blink, twice. Like you, Kasia is one of the recently Awakened and a novice in your conspiracy; like you, she's a Thrysus trying to become a Guardian of the Veil. She chose 'Kasia' as her Shadow name because it was the name of a cat she had as a little girl that she loved very dearly; her true name is Lauren. She's twenty-six years old, divorced, beautiful, a single mother, owner of a small bookstore in Brooklyn that used to be her father's. She spent last night in your bed for the first time, because she finally found a sitter. The leftovers of the Persian rice and falafel the two of you made together for dinner are still in your fridge.

"What's this about?" you ask.

"Kasia is, unfortunately, neither as inexperienced nor as right-minded as she would have you, I, or the Guardians believe," says Tattervane. "Though, perhaps, we owe her grudging respect for her abilities as a liar, betrayer, and spy. She is in fact a Seer. She serves the Lie." He pauses, considering you with a sorrow that doesn't seem to fit his face, and you look back at him blankly, then nearly dry heave. You hear him say, "I know there's nothing I can say here to make this better for you, but I am truly sorry," and by God, he sounds like he actually means it; meanwhile you feel like you're losing yourself, gripping the arms of your grandfather's ancient armchair to keep from floating away. First shock, then anger, then pain roll through you. Tattervane picks up his cup of tea again, stands, and walks to your study window, studiously examining the night outside. After a time, he says, "Something must be done."

"You don't know her," you manage to croak.

"Oh, we know Lauren quite well," says Tattervane, still looking out the window. "And we believe we know you quite well, too. That was a nifty bit of work you did, lifting your Crimson Veil."

You nod with your head in your hands. Driving a serial killer to commit suicide by appearing to him in his dreams as his disappointed father had felt inspired at time, though Lauren told you later she'd found it a bit distasteful. You say, "Thank you. I suppose."

Tattervane turns back. "So this morning, I had a chat with my elders and my betters -- and I assure you, you'll grow to realize those are two entirely different groups of people -- and we came to a consensus." Now he's smiling again, if a bit grimly, and he sounds downright chipper. "We want you to kill her daughter."

You stare at him. "I don't think I heard you right," you say.

"Oh, no, you did, you did." He sets the cup of tea back down on your coffee table. He doesn't very much sound as if he's joking, but with Tattervane, who can ever really tell?

They'd told you they expected ruthlessness, yes, but -- "The girl's four years old!"

"Yes, well, Sleepers." The Acanthus shrugs, as if that explains it. "The great thing about them is there's always more." He reaches for the teapot then stops. "Do you mind if I...?" When you shake your head, he pours himself another cup. "In any event, the Guardians are interested in sending a message. No more of this dreamwalking business; make it something bloody. Perverted, even. Something that screams 'crime of passion' to the Sleeper constabulary, but with hints of the magical, so that when the mother's handlers start poking about they'll know without a doubt that we've found their mole out, and are displeased. Of course, they'll assume it was the Arrows that did it, but they'll know a Guardian had to have pulled the strings."

"What? But I'm not a Guardian yet, I thought, I mean I've still got so much left to learn, with the language and the rotes and everything," you say, rambling, stalling for time to think as a great gasping horror creeps over you.

"But of course you do. We all do when we join, and you'll learn all of that, and more, as a Guardian. Consider this your initiation; your final test, as it were." Tattervane took a sip, frowned, and reached for the milk and sugar. "And once it's done, that's it -- you're in. You're one of us."

"Oh," you say.

"Now if I recall correctly, both of you are Thrysus. It would perhaps be bit below your abilities. as I understand them, for you to just make the child boil up and..." Here he pantomimes an explosion with his hands. "...like a little four year old hand grenade, but perhaps something similar, with mundane help. Just spatter the lifeblood everywhere; make a mess of things. Leave the toes all about the kitchen, an arm in the vase of flowers in the foyer. Feed the head to the dog." He ticks the grotesqueries off on his fingers as he speaks. "I'm just brainstorming here; feel free to contribute ideas of your own."

You try very hard to remember exactly what arcana you'd heard the Acanthus Guardian preferred. Time, that novice had said. That was it. Time. You close your eyes. That would make him a very hard man to surprise, and honestly, even if you did you probably couldn't take him. Maybe when you open your eyes he'll magically be gone. You do. He isn't. Twenty-four hours ago, looking up at the bedroom ceiling with Lauren curled up beside you, you'd told yourself joining the Guardians was the best decision you'd ever made. Now she was the enemy, and this snappily-dressed, faux-prim killer was very casually discussing the mutilation of her child in between sips of his Earl Grey with sugar and skim. "I won't do it," you say, and you feel your stomach gutter out.

"Excuse me?" Tattervane asks. The prattling stops. His smile is gone. "Now I don't think I've heard you correctly."

"No, you did," you say, and you think of the picture Lauren keeps in her purse of that little girl. "You did."

"You would turn your back on the Guardians for the sake of a Seer's child."

"I'm not that kind of person."

Tattervane's eyes narrow. They've gotten greener since he arrived. "Yes you are. We made very certain when we chose you to join that you were exactly that kind of person."

"I will not dismember a child."

"Please. It's not a child; it's nothing more than a collection of flesh and bone and other trivial mortal clay. Its soul Sleeps. Honestly, considering the body's parent, putting it back in queue would probably be doing it a favor." Tattervane's sneer bares his teeth and his eyes are wheeling madly. He leaned in. "I suggested to my superiors we make you this offer because I felt you were one of us. I thought that when you found out you'd been duped, betrayed, played for a fool, and laughed at -- and oh my lord, how your precious Lauren laughs at you when she's with her confederates, her very close Seer confederates -- you would seize not only the revenge you were due but a new station in this world, a greater hold on the very Mysteries themselves."

"And I think you're dangerously insane," you say. It briefly crosses your mind that no one's ever told you what happens to an Awakened soul when its body dies, but no matter; you suppose you'll soon find out. You push every thought away and, staring into the crazed Acanthus's eyes, you turn your mind down into your chest, becoming your heart's drumbeat, drawing the magic to you one last time.

"Good," says Tattervane, and then he sighs, suddenly looking exhausted. He sinks back in his chair. "Good. You can put the spell away, you won't be needing it tonight."

You frown on the threshold of manifestation, the power arcane still thrumming in your ribcage.

The Guardian sips his tea and smiles ruefully. "You know, that never gets any easier."

"What doesn't?" you ask, reluctantly letting the magic slip away.

"Lifting the Black Veil," he says. "The final test. You passed. Welcome to the Guardians of the Veil, Initiate."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I am. You can't honestly believe that the Guardians of the Veil would ever want to murder a Sleeper and leave behind magical fingerprints linking us to the crime, can you? The notion is preposterous. Intentionally so."

"So...Lauren isn't a Seer?"

Tattervane laughs. "Not only isn't Lauren a Seer, Lauren isn't even Lauren. Nor has she ever been married. She certainly doesn't have a child. No, that particular young lady has been one of us for going on five years now -- she Awakened on Prom Night, if I recall correctly -- and she goes by the Shadow name Lamia." He takes another sip. "Mind you, in the future I would be less than trusting of any mage who purports to tell you her true name after the third date. And while you're to be given marks for not only giving her a first name in return, you should be grateful that after you invited her here she resisted the urge to hunt through your trash to find the name on the bills. A Seer would not have been so considerate."

"My true name's never been within a mile of this place," you say, still understandably distracted. "So what, I'm in? Just like that?"

"Just like that," replies Tattervane, standing. "As of...this moment, actually, the relevant Powers That Be have been notified. You start today." You glance at the clock. Two seconds past midnight. Time mages.

"You realize if your test had lasted any longer, I would have attacked you?"

Tattervane chuckles. "Wouldn't want that. I'm sure with your deep understanding of the secrets of Life I was risking all manner of skin irritation." Then seeing the look on your face, he says, "Oh, cheer up. You've made the team, won the respect of your colleagues, and best of all, you didn't even have to dismember a preschooler to do so; I can't think of any greater cause for celebration."

"Yeah," you say, but your thoughts drift back to last night and Lauren -- Lamia -- whoever she really was. "Right."

You walk Tattervane to the door. Outside, the night is warm and empty. No stars. "So that's it then," you say again. "The whole last two months have just been...one elaborate test."

The Acanthus perches the porkpie hat on his head and takes a couple steps down the stoop. "Yes. We do apologize, really. All new Guardians have to go through it. Yours was particularly cruel, and you handled it far better than some." Then he turns back. "And I do believe I was given a message to deliver, in the event you passed. How just because everything about it was a test doesn't necessarily mean everything about it was a lie; something like that."

"What do you mean?" you ask, staring at the buildings across the street, idly wondering what to do with the movie she'd brought over and left in your DVD player. In the house, the phone starts to ring.

"And there she is now," says Tattervane, little bit of the mad twinkling back in his eyes. "I'd get that, if I were you."

So you do.

* * *

Two weeks later, it's Lamia's turn to make breakfast in the morning, so you indulge a Sleeper habit you haven't quite kicked: making a pot of coffee, grabbing the paper, and seeing how the Mets did last night.

But when Lamia asks from the other room how you want your eggs, you don't reply. You're fixated not on the sports section, but on Metro, front page, reading an article across the bottom that caught your eye as you were putting it aside. You see, last night in Queens, the four year old daughter of a single mother was brutally murdered in her own home. The police refused to comment officially, but sources familiar with the investigation say that they think it might be the work of a serial killer or other deranged individual. They were, however, unable to confirm reports that one of the girl's severed arms was found in the flower vase in the foyer...

Nicolae Carpathia posted:

Enoch's Sanctum (****) is currently Size 3, Security 1, Hallow 3. I will update this post as people post their merit XP spending towards it, having appointed myself Treasurer apparently!

Matryoshka spends 6xp to get things started, buying two dots for a Size 2 Sanctum. (Sanctum **)
Arrian spends 12xp for three merit dots to get us a three-dot Hallow. Nice. (Hallow ***)
Tombheart dissolves a few unlocked doors to widen the place up a little, spending 6 xp to add a third dot to Sanctum and putting it in Size. (Sanctum ***)
Medved has some fun with lake weed and spends 8xp to buy a fourth dot to Sanctum, putting it in Security. (Sanctum ****)

Dammit Who? posted:

I am moving in, and moving my library in. Fact.

Dammit Who? posted:

I am moving in, and moving my library in. Fact.

Attorney at Funk posted:

cool story crion. you write good.

Dammit Who? posted:

can you even move a hallow

i dont think you can, thats like saying "well my apartment is close to public transportation, so im going to take that aspect of it with me when i move into magebro pad"

Attorney at Funk posted:

like I think crimson's library is specifically communal whereas arrian's just gonna have some cool books in his room you can borrow if you ask

not that I care though, I'm a lone wolf

a sad old lone wolf

Attorney at Funk posted:

what's in socharis's library, is it just "resurrecting dead girlfriends for dummies" and stuff

Attorney at Funk posted:

arrian's just gonna have some cool books in his room you can borrow if you ask

Dammit Who? posted:

what is the likelihood of finding old Hellboy comics tucked into one of them? its pretty likely.

Attorney at Funk posted:

hellboy contains actual arcane secrets, mike mignola is a sleepwalker

Nicolae Carpathia posted:

in grimoire of grimoires, it mentions a popular set of children's fantasy novels that are supposed to be the Harry Potter of the nWoD world and it's basically a story of a councilor fighting against the repressive four atlantean orders only heavily symbolized, the original editions had illustrations that secretly encoded rotes

Attorney at Funk posted:

but... the free council sucks??? I have to stop this

Attorney at Funk posted:

cool story crion. you write good.

Nicolae Carpathia posted:

READ THIS IF YOU CARE ABOUT MAGE PAD

Okay, as Self-Designated Mage Pad Treasurer, I have a few questions so I can get Final Official Answers from you guys:

1) Who all is moving a library into Mage Pad - me i am, i am doing this
* Socharis is moving in a personal one-dot library. Was Resurrections sarcastic or is that what it's really on? - yes, it's really that

2) Who's moving into Mage Pad and who's not? - me i am, i am doing this

Nicolae Carpathia posted:

* Arrian is moving in a personal library but I forget how many dots and what subjects. -- It's a two-dot library on Mythology/Folklore and The Occult (maybe ferrinus will want me to change that second dot who knows)

2) Who's moving into Mage Pad and who's not? -- Me. I'm movin' in.
3) We have one dot of Security, who's going to volunteer to put up a standing spell? -- I will volunteer to set up the Space ban so we dont have Guardians watching us all the freaking time and such

Dammit Who? posted:

Danhenge posted:

Okay, so does the sanctum need any more XPs? I'd be happy to put some towards it. Also, I originally gave Dasein a couple points in Sanctum but I didn't really think it through nor did I ever outline it so I wonder if Ferrinus would let me dissolve that XP and put it towards the magebro sanctum?

I will happily move my Library into the sanctum for everyone to use, I have Philosophy (probably useless but there for flavor puposes) and Spirits. Dasein will probably continue living in some poo poo hole apartment because he was there at the beginning and the end so he feels somewhat comfortable partaking of the magical space he doesn't have quite the bond the rest of them do.

Nicolae Carpathia posted:

yeah it was written by a sleepwalker whose mother was a diamond-hating councilor if i remember correctly, the guardians were fuckin' pissed, like this rates about 100 kilotombhearts

Crion posted:

tattervane's library is literally just copy after copy of these books

tattervane never goes into his library because writing freely gives its secrets to all who can read.

Nicolae Carpathia posted:

so what the gently caress was the deal with the girl getting murdered at the end of your story, did tattervane do it