Jamie took a bump out of the small bag of cocaine that he kept in his car. He was had been running himself ragged recently between tracking various elements of the supernaturals in DFW, his duties as a Warden and keeping up with his family. He did not have as much time as he used to for paying jobs, but today promised to be a big payday so he, or rather Alice had carved out time in his schedule.
“Thank you for the tea” Jamie said as he drank from the cup just placed in front of him by Martha Lee. The room they sat in was richly decorated in a mostly western style despite Martha’s Korean heritage. Martha was VP for an international logistics company and her late husband had been a major stock broker before a heart attack killed him five years ago so money was not issue for the Lee household. Jamie knew all of this and many other things from the file that Alice had put together for him, but he listened anyway as Martha told her story. Her son, Martin, had finished high school, but had gotten involved with a gang near Harry Hines called The Korean Brotherz. He still came to the house mainly to steal money and had threatened to kill his mother if she ever called the police on him. This had been going on for a year and Martha wanted a way to keep her son out of her house.
It was a Friday night in Dallas. Conor was down a bit of cash; actually he was broke. As usual, the solution was a little busking in Deep Ellum. That would set him right up. The advantage of basing his efforts out of Joe Mama’s was the free dinner – amazing ribs, peach cobbler, and Dr. Pepper.
“Ya want ya usual honey?” Theresa Williams was larger than life. A southern woman of deep faith and incredible cooking, Theresa paid all her bills via her cooking; and was putting her son through El Centro to boot. Conor wasn’t entirely sure what Joe intended to be when he was done.
“Yes ma’am, I’d love it. Now if ye don’t mind, the crowds are startin’ to show up an’ I better get out there.” Guitar in hand, he set out to sing songs and invite wandering twenty-somethings to his session at the restaurant.
He was through his sixth baudy Irish tune out standing on Elm street proper when a female voice behind him sang out; “Conor? Oh my gosh is that you?”
He turned to see a somewhat familiar face, after a brief moment of panic, the name came rushing forth “McKayla?”
“What does Elena, Dallas’s vigilante killer, and a DEA Agent all have in common?”
I stood in Claret’s loft on Live Oak, patiently waiting by her meager kitchen counter. I normally sat in one of Claret’s many leather and/or vinyl chairs, but a nervous cold sliver had run down my spine upon entering, preventing me even that small measure of comfort. Claret was tinkering in her lab, the mundane chemical one this time, and her voice was marked with an edge of frustration by the delay of her work, or art depending on the day, and her ever-present pissy attitude.
“I don’t have time for your games or weird questions today, four-eyes. Come over here and do that sound cleany thing you do on this beaker.” I could hear her moving around hurried and deliberate, the ingredients of a new project. I steeled myself and answered her in my most confident and straightforward voice.
Just a quick disclaimer: This entry was created from my game transcript. This was a heavy role-play session, so the entry is long. Like Holy Handlasers, Batman! 16k words?! long. So, um. You might want to go get a drink or something, because this might take a while. Oh, and if any of the other players feel like grammar checking this, I won’t be offended. I’m done with it. :P ~Jaelie
Elena watches the werewolves drive off in their various cars, with the cat literally in the bag. She’s at a loss as to what to do, since she knows that her group can’t take on the whole Fort Wolf Posse without losing one, maybe more, of their own. She sees Jamie look at his pocket watch from the corner of her eye.
“Yeah,” Jamie says calmly, “we should probably get out of here before the cops show up.”
Elena looks over her shoulder. The house they just walked out of is in ruins, the windows all blown out, the front door in splinters, the door frame shattered. The lawn is pulled completely back like a thick, grassy blanket, covering the bodies of the lycanthropes that Jamie had so easily slammed against the house. They aren’t moving. The German Shepherd sized ants are slowly dissolving into ectoplasm, some already dissolved and evaporated, leaving behind only the huge hole from which they had erupted.
Please find herein my continued description of the events of August 1st and 2nd, 2012.
The “Scooby Squad” regrouped at the residence of Warden Harper, undoubtedly for a planning session, and then set out via the NeverNever to approach the den of the “Fort Wolf Posse.” While in the NeverNever, some of my resources observed that the group was attacked by a mass swarm of the Invictae (once again, those are the local denizens of the NeverNever that are effectively enormous “Fire Ants”). Though I believe the group took some minor injuries, overall their progress was not significantly slowed by the ambush.
(Stagelucas: So I had this thing written out completely, about 600-800 words, and all nice and tidy. Then my computer, due to my own idiocy, irretrievably ate it. It was my own fault for not saving, like at all, so I can’t blame the computer too much. But it was a good narrative that I was quite proud of. I’m still a little mad at myself, so it will be a while before I re-write it. In the meantime, I’m going to post a synopsis of plot points that I want/need to cover, both for memory reasons as well as establishing character plot development that leads appropriately into the other stories.)
“Do what is right; let the consequence follow.” I’m embarrassed to admit I drifted from my ol’ credo tonight. I’m growin’ cautious and edgier than I mean to be bein’ aroun’ the supernatural as much as I have bin lately. Because of how much I trust this group I’ve been workin’ along side of, and because they’ll always know mor’n me about this stuff, I oft times find myself lettin’ them take point on the situations we find ourselves in. I’m gettin’ complacent, and truth be told, relyin’ more on them than they are on me.
After Montfort scampers away from th’ scene, we come nose ta’ nose with the Fort Worth Posse. Yeah, from what I’ve read an’ heard on ‘em they’ve got their reputation, but so do I and MY RANGERPOSSE, an’ I’ll be damned if I don’t stand up fer justice an’ my sworn duty again, no matter who or what they are! When they came with their demands fer Erica‘s critter friend, my gut tells me to speak up an’ warn the Posse ‘bout startin’ a riot…but I balk an’ am steamin’ over my display o’ cowardice. I really don’t like bullies, and here I am lettin’ a whole team of ‘em swagger off with something that needs the protection I’m sworn to. They nailed it when they said ‘Heat Makes People Crazy,’ ‘cuz I’m boilin’ over and ready to intervene a’fore the Fort Worth Posse makes it off the premesis.
What I can’t forget, though, is that doin’ “what’s right” sometimes means doin’ nothin’ until the time is right. Hopefully, if’n that’s the case here, someone from the group points that out to me a’fore I get us all in trouble too heaped for our own good.
As part of our site redesign I’m going to try and do these postgames from an in-game POV. Eventually I’ll retcon all the other postgames to be in the same voice. I think it’ll improve overall flow and re-readability later.
Wizard Peabody,
As requested, here are the details regarding the matter that took place upon the full moon evening of August 1st, 2012 within the Dallas & Fort Worth area.
As near as my meager divination skills have been able to determine, everything began when a group of Lycanthropes (under the guise of a roving white supremacist motorcycle gang), working with a somewhat independent minded Fae (the Satyr Oreamnos) of our local Summer Court Duchy, abducted the Sonomantic Talent Erica Goodchilde (Please reference other documents previously submitted regarding relative power levels of magically inclined individuals within the region). She, Ms. Goodchilde, was in the company of another local Talent, known colloquially as Claret (Claire Watkins, Alchemist) at the time and Ms. Watkins was allowed to flee.
It had been a brutally long day. Back to back gigs in Fort Worth, plus travel time, plus the heat… it was draining.
Conor slumped down in his seat on the DART train. He had just transferred from the Fort Worth line and was going to ride this one to the central junction… maybe catch a nap. The rest of the car was fairly empty, just a couple other individuals. All signs pointed to a peaceful ride in. He closed his eys.
At the next stop, his brain barely registered some additional individuals boarding his car and taking a seat. That was, until they started talking in Spanish.
<So what are you reading?> said a young male voice, Conor filed it away as a teenager’s.
<Please leave me alone, I just want to read my book.> replied a female voice, seemingly in her twenties.
A loud snap of someone’s fingers brought Jamie awake in an instant.
At first he thought he was in a dark room, but as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he realized he was in a cave. He sat in a chair made of dark wood and a figure sat facing him in a similar chair just a few feet away. The man had a slightly disheveled look that he was famous for and was wearing clothing that you would associate more with a farmer than one of the most powerful Wizards in the world.
“Ebenezar McCoy…? I am not sure how I got here…..but I am a huge fan of Elementary Magic.” Jamie rambled as he tried to get his bearings.
“Honey it’s always good ta see ya. Ya wanna play ya guitar tonight?”
“What does Elena, Dallas’s vigilante killer, and a 
Elena watches the werewolves drive off in their various cars, with the cat literally in the bag. She’s at a loss as to what to do, since she knows that her group can’t take on the whole Fort Wolf Posse without losing one, maybe more, of their own. She sees Jamie look at his pocket watch from the corner of her eye.
Please find herein my continued description of the events of August 1st and 2nd, 2012.
It had been a brutally long day. Back to back gigs in Fort Worth, plus travel time, plus the heat… it was draining. 
