Newton The Moon rolls through the sky

[Don Pickens]

[outfit]

I've found you a thousand times
I guess you've done the same.
But then we lose each other
Its just like a children's game~
But then I see you here again
The thoughts run through my mind.
Our love is like a circle
Let's go out one more time.

Don tapped his fingers on the wheel of his car, enjoying the singing voice of Harry Chapin coming through his speakers. He appreciated the more subdued nature that built up over the course of the music. It gave him a feeling of peace and progress, he was someone that always appreciated progress. Running a black gloved hand over his head he took a slow breath and looked at himself in the mirror. He was dressed well, he always worked to dress well, and his white polo shirt, dark navy pants and coat all blended into a casual business chic he rather appreciated. A pink scarf around his neck adding a bit of flare that popped. He touched the fabric and smiled a bit thinking that his sister would have gotten him something similar for his birthday if she had been alive. In his head she would always remark he needed more color to his outfits.

He peeled off his black gloves and carefully put them into his coat pocket in case he needed them then checked to make sure his sidearm was still holstered. It was. He wouldn't have felt comfortable without a proper gun on hand. He checked his belt next and made sure his hidden knife was still set, it naturally was. He wasn't particularly confident or impressive with knifework but he was learning and it was good to have a close range tool for silent or unusual circumstances.

Lastly he opened the small compartment between the seats of his car and saw a small red light. He turned the object it was attached to and made sure none of the wires were loose. They were naturally tight minus a single green wire that was ready to be plugged in at any time. From there it would just be a small switch and a brief countdown before it was armed and triggered. DIY explosives was another new hobby Don was indulging in his free time. A birthday gift to himself all in all.

Finally, pulling his phone out of his pocket he sent a quick text to the two agents he was meeting tonight. Agent Dune and Agent Hansen.

I am in Newton. I'll be at the scene in five minutes.

He then found a place nearby to park and rolled into the spot, parking his car and collecting his things. He went ahead and left the home-explosive in his car. It was fun to have but hardly professional. He was certain he could kill anything that showed up tonight just fine with what he already had on hand.

[Angela Dune]

Outfit

Dune was pulling out of the Dunkin Donuts when she got the text. Her phone screen lit up on its little stand near the steering wheel of the car, and the camera caught her face enough to unlock and give her a preview.

Turn signal clicking as she waited for a break in traffic, she kept her eyes on oncoming headlights as she muttered jovially to Brookie, “Can you believe this guy? Workin' on his birthday. Let him know we'll be right there?”

They had, in their possession, one dozen donuts, with a hefty number of them a pointed 'birthday cake' flavor. Dune had also managed to snag a pack of candles from the convenience store next door, and as always, the smoker had her lighter on her. So they were going to kick off this case with a birthday song.

[Brooke Hansen]

outfit

“Do you think he knows we know?” Brooke asked with a smirk as she fished her phone from a pocket. Her leather jacket creaked as she searched and adjusted in the passenger seat. Phone in hand, Brooke slumped down and tapped out a response.

BRT

Job done, she killed the screen and kept the phone in hand in expectation of a reply.

[Don Pickens]

Don held an open folder in his hand with various pictures and reports clipped together inside. Some of it was easy to get, some of it he could be arrested for having considering it hadn't been released to the press. Most of it had been provided willingly to the Exchsnge so they could do their job properly.

Don's phone buzzed, it was on silent, and he checked it to see a three letters and an emoji. He let out a small breath from his nose before putting the device away. Agent Hansen was young and easily influenced, in Don's opinion, which was a plus in most cases. But he did find her style of SMS to be a little tedious.

He didn't bother to text back and instead continued to study the case file while waiting for the two women.

[Angela Dune]

Only after she pulled out into the traffic flow did Dune start fiddling with the music. The company car had Bluetooth, so now she searching her phone for a song that fit her fancy, manicured nails tapping on the screen. Settling on one, she tossed the device into the cup holder and settled in for the drive. Left arm propping up on the window sill, she drove with one hand, relaxed even while weaving through traffic.

“You listen to Britney, or is she too vintage for you?” Dune asked over the thumping beat, grinning broadly at Brooke.

[Brooke Hansen]

“Who’s Britney?” She said, playing up her confusion, and grinning all the while. Brooke glanced at the phone in her hand and waited for a reply which would never come. No doubt they’ll be there soon enough, but she remained attentive to any notification her phone threw at her. Dune driving, she bopped to the beat.

[Don Pickens]

Leaning against his own car with the file in hand, Don made a note of the coroner's name attached to the file. He'd made an introduction to that man already but hadn't had much reason to further the connection. This case would be a good excuse to strengthen that link. Don liked knowing everyone that worked with the recently deceased. From morticians, to coroners, and even EMT's. He had a saying after all, follow the bodies and find the boogieman.

His eyes narrowed at some of the pictures, the similarities to the scene he'd visited with his boss were high enough to rule out coincidence even at a glance. Ideally this would be the same culprit, at worst though it could be a group working together. Sometimes arcanists did things like that. Making covens or whatever they were called to help with their spellwork. Overall Don wasn't too fond of ritualists. They had their uses, but at the end of the day they were just another type of weird that more often than not needed to be put down.

[Angela Dune]

“What?” Dune shrieked with a laugh, “Shut up, get out of the car.”

Not that Brooke could, with Dune practically speeding through traffic, but this sacrilege couldn't go unanswered.

At the rate she was going, they pulled up to the spot in good time, seeing Don waiting by his car. The older Exchange agent pulled into the spot next to him, cutting out the music as she killed the engine.

Nodding at Brooke, she lifted her eyebrows meaningfully at the box of donuts and then smoothly hauled herself out of the car. “Mr. Pickens!” she bellowed over the top of the vehicle with a broad grin. “You've been keepin' secrets.”

[Brooke Hansen]

Brooke caught Dune’s pointed expression and snatched the box of donuts from the car as she climbed out. She emerged alongside Don as he leant against his car, and with donut box in hand, she hip-checked the passenger door closed. Grinning as broadly as Dune, Brooke made a flourish with the box, cracking it open so Don glimpsed what awaited him.

“Yes. Keepin’ secretsss.” Brooke parroted, but with a conspiratorial hiss.

[Don Pickens]

Don glanced up at the car that rolled, a bit quicker than was likely safe, into the spot next to his own car. A dark haired woman and a blonde one sat in the vehicle. Don recognized his coworkers and took in their features and clothes at a glance before looking back down at his paperwork. The two were usually on the less professional side, no less proficient in their duties but easier to talk to in a casual setting, so Don fit his body to relax a bit while the women got out of their car. Right away Agent Dune looked over the top of her car with a broad grin stating that he had been keeping secrets. He raised an eyebrow at her, classically stoic as he turned to look over at Agent Hansen. The other girl opened a box of donuts, several of which sported birthday candles.

"I'm sure I don't know what you- ah. How did you two find out about that." Don said, his face going from stoic to impressed surprise.

He knew how they found out, he had been leaving a few little clues around the office for a week or so. Nothing too obvious but they worked at a detective agency after all. Don assumed the change to pleasant surprise on his face would be enough to please the two women who no doubt felt very proud at the discovery. It was nice to surprise someone and prove how very very clever you must be after all. Don reached in and plucked a donut from the box as he closed the file in his other hand.

"Nothing wrong with a secret or two." he said as he took a small bite of the pastry.

Birthday cake flavored- too sweet for his liking but he he gave a small sound of enjoyment all the same so the girl's thought he appreciated the gesture.

[Angela Dune]

Dune hadn't picked up on Don leaving clues around the office for his birthday, primarily because, in her humble opinion, that'd be a weird fuckin' thing to do. So she hadn't even thought of it. Instead, she was just collectively proud that she and Brooke had worked it out and brought the donuts with the candles.

Don picked one up and bit into it before they could even light them, and Dune tsked. Swaggering up to him, she waited until he took a bite and then cupped his hand with hers, pulling out her lighter with her free hand to light the little candle. “Happy birthday, babe,” she cooed, offering him her usual flirty grin. “Twenty-one, right?”

[Brooke Hansen]

Don couldn’t keep something like a birthday from them. Brooke would have been confused about learning he played them. That was some deadass sus behavior. Instead, she was overjoyed by his surprise and basked in their triumph.

“I’m a Capricorn too! We’re like birthday buddies.” Brooke said as she wormed a hand into the box and claimed a donut. While pushing the donut into her mouth, she extended the box towards Dune so her partner in crime could join in.

[Don Pickens]

Don chewed the far too sweet treat while Dune walked up, walk probably didn't do the motion justice, before she touched his hand and slowly moved to light the candle and tell him happy birthday. He leaned toward her slightly, taking a slow breath through his nostrils and blowing out the candle toward her, almost challenging as he held eye contact. He considered flirting back, Agent Dune liked to flirt, but in mixed company he had to carefully balance how he responded to everything. A non-verbal approach might do more for him here than not. Certainly Dune respected a challenge, especially in this arena, and maybe silence would take him farther than some boastful reply about her making him feel twenty one. When Hansen mentioned being birthday buddies he glanced at her and smiled.

"Oh, and what do you want for your birthday?" he asked.

He took one last bite of the doughnut, pretending to enjoy it but really wishing they could just get on with the investigation already. He'd been looking into this circle killings for a while now and he was feeling anxious to find the perpetrator and put a bullet or three into their skull.

[Angela Dune]

Dune tipped her head and grinned as Don blew the candle out, enjoying the eye contact and perceived chemistry. Leaving everything unspoken worked just fine for her, and she stepped back after a little wink and let him and Brooke talk while she grabbed a donut from the box.

Being an incorrigible sweet tooth, she made a genuine sound of delight at the birthday-cake-flavored donut, glancing over at the younger agent with a grin and clear interest. So what did she want for her birthday?

[Brooke Hansen]

Everyone liked the treats and Brooke warmed at doing a good thing. And who could be upset when the Dunkin’ was delicious and moist, sugary enough to make her nose hairs tingle and with frosting aged just enough to harden. Brooke craved a microwave to turn this into a gooey mess and need to lick her fingers clean afterwards. She’d have another one before they headed off to investigate. Focused on the donut, Dune and Don’s silent dance pirouetted about her. She took another bite, then looked at Don.

“An EOTECH EFLX,” Brooke said around a mouthful of donut, one cheek chipmunking.

[Don Pickens]

Don felt his smile turn to a slight smirk at Agent Dune's small wink. He had made the right choice in leaving everything unsaid. He liked when he was right and got the result he wanted. It was like looking at one of those magic pictures and guessing the image a second before it all snapped into focus for you. Or maybe one of those word box puzzles where you catch the word at a glance. It didn't really mean much but it was always satisfying.

Don glanced over at Agent Hansen as she mentioned the sight, a red dot one Don himself owned but didn't often use. He liked the sight personally but he worked to be a good shot without too many attachments, since you didn't always have the time to use them in a fight. This didn't apply to his sniper rifles of course, the entire point of those was timing and precision. He wished he knew where the next ritual sight would be in advance. He could line up a scope on it and just wait for their target to stroll in... then a small squeeze and pop. The problem solved.

Don gave a wider friendly grin at the thought, but aimed it at Brooke. "Just a sight? Surely you want a gun under it?" he said. He used a tone of voice he remembered from a Christmas movie about a kid wanting some unimportant present. Fatherly... but indulgent and good natured. That had been what he was going for.

[Angela Dune]

Dune made a noise of approval, and Don asked the same follow-up question that crossed her mind. The car wasn't locked yet, so she took the time to get them underway, offering to take the box of donuts from Brooke's hand and stow it in the back seat where it would be safe.

Once their hands were free, she patted herself down, touching the comforting shape of her sidearm on her belt, before giving the other two agents and expectant look. They had a crime scene to check out, they could chat on the way.

[Third on the Match]

Ritual Murder Scene

Element: Late evening, in the dark

Intent: Enigmatic

DC 3

2 complete successes:
1 potential hint

1 exceptional success:
1 potential hint

Strike or Cinder can be used

The agents will find the crime scene down an alleyway, which opens to a neglected courtyard nestled between nondescript office buildings. There was an attempt at keeping it green, but what wasn't killed by lack of light definitely felt the sting of whatever ritual happened here. There are some dried-up, blackened bushes and a tree that looks skeletal, dead from more than the cold of winter.

There is a body spread-eagled in the middle of a chalk circle scuffed beyond practical use. Most of the ritual is obscured, smears of white chalk showing where something has been rubbed out. Dark trails of dried blood trail from the body's nose, ears, mouth, and eyes, pooling beneath it and covering a section of the ritual. A trail has trickled towards a nearby drain cover, the blood dark on rusted iron.

Roll Strike or Cinder to investigate the scene with one or more partners. Drop a tag and link in the #mod-request channel and tag @admin on discord to have your potential hint revealed when you gain enough successes.

[Brooke Hansen]

Brooke made a strained sound, a moment of panic blooming as Dune offered to take the donuts. Quick handed, she snatched another for the road, then turned over the box to Dune for safe keeping. She chewed the pastry already squirreled away in her cheek, and thumbed the rest of the donut into her mouth. Only after swallowing did Brooke answer Don’s question.

“Oh I will have a gun under it!” She said, deciding her first bite. “Thinking of getting my P30L slide milled so it can take the optic.”

The trio ambled down the alleyway, office buildings looming overhead. Chewing, her free hand fished a flashlight out of her jacket pocket. Clicking it on, she cast a beam of bright white light to the back of the alley.

[Don Pickens]

Strike with Agent Training, 6d6: Partial Failure (2 passes)

Don gave what he'd learned to be a kind smile. The kind older father figures gave on the Andy Griffith show and the like. Trusting and indulgent. As always practiced the the mirror until he had just the right stretch and lines to his own face. He gave that smile to Brooke as she said what kind of gun she'd have under the scope she wanted. Then he gave a look to Dune as if implying did you get all that. This was all a game, like playing house with a kid. Only he felt like the only adult in the room. Eventually they made their way from the car, and the sugary abominations, toward the actual crime scene. As they walked between the buildings into a lovely little patch of green- at least it was clearly meant to be- a part of Don locked in as he tried to decide what his facial features should be.

The other part took in the scene from the current angle. A mental snapshot of the body, the chalk lines, the dried blood running down. A kind of subtle tension pulled in his chest as he wondered how he would have done this, which was silly because he wouldn't have done this. It was too messy. Ritualists had no subtlety.

Don pulled his lips tight into a concerned line as he wrinkled his brow just enough to crease a line between them. A mix of concern and distaste but nothing more than that. He was too experienced to fake disgust and too professional to look away from a gruesome scene. That said he wanted to show enough humanity to react to it all the same, this was a person on the ground after all. And some people cared about that. He reached into a pocket of his coat and pulled out a pair of disposable plastic gloves that he slipped on.

"Let's get to work." He said somberly.

[Angela Dune]

Cinder with Exchange training (2/3), partial failure

Dune smiled back at Don but had no other reply, simply filing Brooke's answer away. Now that they were approaching the crime scene, she sobered quickly, sliding her flashlight from a clip on her belt. Then, turning her light on soon after Brooke's, she swept it over the scene, over the skeletal trees first, before landing on the body.

“Jesus,” Dune swore, putting the emphasis on the first syllable and openly startled at how gruesome this particular scene was. The body was splayed out in a way that destroyed its dignity, and blood ran into the gutters. However, her steps didn't pause as they approached. Unfortunately, it wasn't the worst she'd ever seen, but the experience kept her from quailing as she crouched next to the blood-soaked circle. “The last poor motherfucker I saw like this looked like he was sleeping,” she said, unable to make heads or tails of the runes. “Whoever did this one did it with a vengeance.”

[Brooke Hansen]

Strike Investigation: Complete Success
Brooke BOON

The mood changed, and Brooke soon regretted her second helping. Like whiplash following a rear end collision, the party mood snapped away and she was left holding a donut at a gruesome crime scene. Don’s somber order was another car into the pileup. Her appetite vanished as the trio rounded the corner and beheld the grizzly courtyard which awaited them. Bewildered, Brooke focused on the one thing she could; the donut.

Her eyes skittered over the ritual circle, body, and sticky blood. Brooke thought of jam-filling and looked elsewhere. Conscious of the pastry in hand, she wanted to throw it away, but didn’t dare in case she contaminated the crime scene. Dune’s observations didn’t help. Brooke felt the fool and all the greener for how she handled her mistake. There was only one thing for it. She unhinged her jaw and pushed the donut inside her mouth, swallowing it whole. Brooke squeezed her eyes shut as it worked down her throat and into her gut. She reset her jaw with a firm palm to the chin and dusted off her hands.

Swearing off donuts and looking to put this behind her, Brooke stared unflinchingly at the latest atrocity. The beam from her flashlight glinted off the blood, and the stark white chalk remains glowed all the brighter. She crept forward, silent as if fearful of waking the dead, and stood over the body.

“Can you make this out?” She asked quietly, the beam of her flashlight shone across the smeared chalk rubbing.

[Don Pickens]

Don Strike with Agent Training (6d6): Partial Failure (2/2)

Don glanced back at Dune and made a mental note. The tone and inflection she used when using Jesus as a swear. It was a good reaction. He tended to forget about using it that way since he had no deep religious convictions to speak of. Next time he was in this situation he hoped he remembered using the line like that.

While he walked around the scene he made note of his fellow agents doing the same. He knew- on paper at least, that Hansen wasn't pure human. He was still a bit surprised to see her unhinge her jaw. Was she part snake monster?

Did that make her weak to the cold? Easthaven wasn't the warmest so he doubted that. He filed the information away for later since it wasn't important now.

Stepping with care over toward Hansen he glanced at the smeared chalk marks she pointed out and Don frowned.

"Maybe scuffed in all the confusion...maybe something else." he said with clinical detachment.

He gave Hansen a nod as affirmation she was doing good then returned to his own search.

[Angela Dune]

Strike Investigation (2/3), partial failure

“Pickens, c'mon,” Dune snorted at Don's observation, shooting him an exasperated smile. “It's more likely they were scuffed after the ritual ran its course. If our guy was struggling in the middle of the spell and he smudged those runes, we'd be looking at a fuckin' crater right now.” Her arm ached slightly, and she rolled her shoulder as she scanned the ground.

Is that what he meant by confusion? It didn't even look like the body had been jostled--no footprints in the blood either. There wasn't any confusion or flurry here, someone had just taken the time to kick out their runes. In any case, it didn't matter, there was nothing to make out from the circle as far as Dune was concerned.

Moving away from the center, she followed the trail of blood to the drain cover, flashing her light over the drying pools. Crouching down, she called back to the junior agent, “Brookie, you pickin' up on anything?”

Anything magical, considering.

[Brooke Hansen]

Strike Investigation: Exceptional Success: 1 clue

Dune's observations after Don's insight made the junior agent ponder. “So he just led there and let this happen?” More a remark of her own, but begging more questions. The corpse didn’t appear restrained and hadn’t fought—otherwise, the chalk would be smudged and they’d be looking at a fuckin’ crater right now. Coerced, enamored, drugged… or may be willing? Anything was possible with magic.

She followed Dune’s flashlight to the blood-covered drain and soon her own beam intermingled with Dune’s. Brooke peered over Dune’s shoulder into the shadowed darkness, the drying blood glistening in the intense light. She aimed her light back to the corpse and thought of Alien. Specifically, something leaving the host and skittering down the drain to leave a trail of blood.

Brooke frowned. “Like, is this a normal blood trail or like a slithery blood trail?” Maybe a better way to phrase her question, but she hoped the point was clear enough.

[Third on the Match]

There is no telltale smear of blood to imply some manner of face-hugger has been at work, but there is a faint trail of something having rolled through the blood when it was still fresh, a wavering trail wobbling its way towards the grate. On the body itself, a closer look will reveal marks around the wrists and ankles, although not from rope or other similarly mundane restraints. Those familiar with bruising can see they were done while the victim was alive, but obviously, that didn't last long.

[Don Pickens]

Don Strike with training 6d6: Partial Failure (1/1 pass)

Don looked around slowly. He glanced at Agent Dune and raised an eyebrow. "I haven't seen a lot of rituals interrupted up close, is an explosion common?" in his time he had only seen two interrupted rituals, both dine by a bullet through the target. Meaning the ritual had been less interrupted than paused. Maybe he would try and break the circle on a target to see the result. Could be interesting.

Don moved along the trail of blood, glancing at the body on his way, before moving next to the drain. He was careful with his placement but crouched down to shine his torch into the dark of the sewer line.