Daimon gets out of the shower in his small room, searches through last night's clothing while he pulls the tags off the new stuff he bought this morning, and pulls out the card with the numbers on it. Daimon messes with the phone for a bit, before he calls the hanger number.
Zebina is up in the cockpit of her Electra, trying to figure out a good place to put the rest of this GPS system. Fortunately, she has a cordless phone at hand.
Zebina picks it up on the third ring. "Blue Sky Air Transport Services, this is Elizabeth. How may I help you?"
Daimon says "Liz? Hi, this is Daimon."
Zebina carefully sets down a wrench. "Daimon, how are you?"
Daimon says "Pretty good. You?"
Zebina says "Well, thanks. I'm working on my plane."
Daimon sits on the bed, and goes back to pulling off tags while balancing the phone between his cheek and his chin.
Daimon says "Cool. Hey, you wanted me to call you."
Zebina says "Did I say that? Oh, yeah, I guess I did, didn't I. I wanted to make sure you got back to the hotel all right. Hangover not too bad?"
Daimon says "Nothing a few aspirin and a glass of orange juice couldn't cure."
Daimon starts ripping open the bag of underwear, then the bag of socks.
Zebina says "Oh, good. Anyway, I wanted to thank you for dinner last night, even if the walk back to the opera house was something out of a suspense movie."
Daimon says "Well, you know what they say about D. C. I was happy that nothing really happened."
Zebina says "Listen, can you hang on a minute? I'm kind of stuck halfway under the instrument console. Let me get right side up."
Daimon says "Sure."
Daimon starts doing the struggle-into-jeans-while-balancing-the-phone trick.
This is true enough. Zeb's on her back with her hair tied back and her head poking up behind the 'dash'. She has the copilot's seat removed so she can get that far in. Little struggling noises come over the phone, including what sounds like someone shoving a toolkit back a few feet. More noises, and then a creak as Liz settles into some sort of chair, probably the pilot's seat.
Daimon raises his eyebrows. "You okay?"
Zebina says "Yeah. It's a little cramped in here, but the plane was made in the 30s."
Zebina says "There, much better. So, you were saying?"
Daimon says "I was just saying I'm glad we weren't jumped by muggers or mimes or something."
Zebina laughs softly. "Mimes?"
Daimon says "Mimes. Very dangerous to be around, because people are always trying to kill them. Or pie them."
Zebina's laugh turns into a near giggle. Then she says, "Um, all right. Must be a comedian thing."
Daimon says "Maybe. Banana cream is a very good Mime repellant. Or get them to trap themselves in those little invisible boxes. They can't even scream for help."
Zebina laughs more, almost in spite of herself.
Daimon says "Then maybe you can push the little invisible box off the side of a cliff, or leave it in traffic."
Daimon says "Ooh, Mimes playing in traffic. You can roll little invisible rubber balls out there."
Daimon says "Now that's a thought."
Daimon pulls out a notepad, and makes some notations.
Zebina laughs until she chokes, and then gasps out, "You are a very strange man, Daimon Lightner."
Daimon says "Thank you. I practice."
Daimon says "Look! Little invisible trucks!"
Zebina says "So, were your parents dragged off by a troupe of wild mimes or something?"
Daimon says "Nah. They just strike me as something inherently funny. Have you ever met anyone who has LIKED a Mime?"
Zebina says "Hmm. No, not that I recall."
Daimon says "Yet they are always annoyingly underfoot around the artsy types."
Zebina says "Oh, yes. Those strange mime people."
Daimon says "I will be happy to share the story of the square burgers with you."
Zebina says "Square burgers?"
Daimon says "Indeed. The Square burger conspiracy. It's a ploy to take over the world with slyly feeding us strangly shaped food with corners."
Daimon says "Although McDonald's uses round burgers. I believe this is secretly linked to the McDonald's Theory of World Peace."
Zebina looks dubious, and asks, "Is this part of one of your routines, Daimon?"
Daimon says "Actually, yes. Sorry, I'm off on a tangent."
Zebina sighs in relief. "So, um, are you still planning on going to the opera?"
Daimon says "Sure. Are you still planning on being there with me?"
Daimon locates a shirt, and does some sort of acrobatic act of putting it on while still talking on the phone.
Zebina laughs. "Sure. I can hardly avoid it. You have the ticket next to mine."
Zebina says "I'm going to invite another acquaintance or two if you don't mind, since there's four tickets."
The cellphone begins bleeping near Zebina.
Daimon says "Is this a double date?"
Zebina says "I wouldn't say -that-. I mean, I might give a couple of tickets to Sarah, and if she wants to invite someone on a date, sure."
Daimon says "Sarah?"
The cellphone continues to bleep.
Zebina says "Yes, Um, one sec. I have a call on the cell."
Zebina picks up her cellphone, "Hello?"
The voice on the other end says, "Excuse me. Is that Elizabeth Bradley?"
Daimon stares at himself in the mirror and tries to do something constructive to his hair.
Zebina says "Yes, it is."
Zebina says "May I help you?"
A rustle of paper. "This call is in reply to your earlier email. My name is Anselm, and I have been briefed as your liaison officer in this case."
Zebina says "Oh! Okay. Um, one moment, I have someone holding on my other line. I'll have them call back."
The voice says, "Sure."
Zebina picks up her cordless. "Daimon? Can I call you back? I have a business call on the cell I need to deal with. What's your number and room?"
Daimon says "Um... hold on..."
Daimon peers at the phone and the instructions.
Daimon says "Um, call the holiday Inn and ask for my room."
Daimon gives the room number.
Daimon says "I'll be here, maybe next twenty minutes. But I gotta work."
Zebina says "Thanks. Sure. Are you performing tonight?"
Zebina whispers "Have I heard of an 'Anselm' before?"
You paged Zebina with 'Not offhand, but Marc has _loads_ of workers.'.
Daimon says "Not that I know of. I do have business this afternoon, though. Hey, if you can't call me back, can I see you tonight?"
Zebina says "Sure! Why not. I'll probably run by the opera house to see some of the rehearsal around 3 or so. Meet me there at 5-6 if you want to go out. Or page me or call. You have the numbers."
Daimon says "Okay. I'll assume you're going to call me back in the next ten minutes. But if not, I'll try to grab you at the Opera House. Sound cool?"
Zebina says "Yeah. Now I gotta go. Business calls. Bye!"
Daimon says "Bye."
Zebina hangs up, picks up her cell. "Hi, I'm back. Sorry that took so long."
Daimon hangs up the phone, then goes off to finish getting dressed, smoke a cigarette, that sort of thing.
Zebina says "Um, is this line secure?"
The voice says, "Certainly. Now, I've been assigned to your case. I must say, it presents some very interesting features."
Zebina laughs. "Yeah, it does."
The voice chuckles. "Okay. Now, first, the Focals firm. It's something dubious, but we've had difficulty getting agents in. Anything you can get on them would be appreciated."
There is the shuffling of paper. "And this Daimon Lightner fellow. We've certainly got files on his comedy show. You think he's a Lilim? And Redeemable?"
Zebina says "Let's see. I could go in to Focals, I suppose. I have legitimate investment needs, both business and personal."
Zebina says "As far as Mr. Lightner goes. My belief is that he's a Lilim of Comedy. He's...weird. I don't know. Not what you'd expect. Well, he's attractive and fun to be around, but that's pretty much standard. He's also... angsty? He says he doesn't believe in God, for example, and he got very drunk and somewhat maudlin on me."
"Sure," the voice says. "Just take care, all right? And about this Game problem, well, both they and Dark Humor are bad for business, but the Game's worse. Hm."
Zebina says "I don't know if he's Redeemable. I don't know him very well at all yet, and he doesn't know who I am yet."
Zebina says "Should I reveal myself?"
Daimon pages: While I wait, I call around liquor stores, looking for that skin mag the guy at the back door of the opera house wanted.
There's a pause. "Can you get a Seraph or an Elohite in to check him out? Don't reveal yourself unless you have to. That mob are very good at traps."
You paged Daimon with 'You manage to track it down. It's crude but has a certain raw enthusiasm.'.
Zebina says "I can fairly easily contact a Seraph of Michael and an Elohite of Dominic. Neither would be my first choice. Are any of our people available, either in DC or along the Eastern Seaboard?"
Zebina says "I'd be willing to fly in, pick them up, and fly back. In fact, it would be very helpful if I could."
There's some more paper-shuffling. "Sorry, nobody on line as available at the moment. I'll keep tabs and let you know if someone comes up."
Daimon pages: Okay, the plan is simple. I go and get the skin mag. I go to the coffee house, and meet Tania for lunch. I pick her brains, drive her to work. I had the skin mag over to the guy, use the geas, and talk to him for an hour. Voila, work is done.
Zebina says "All right. I'll keep in contact with him, and see if I can learn anything more. If he looks promising and non-threatening, I'll ask the Seraph to check his story."
Long distance to Daimon: Demiurge laughs.
The voice says, "Okay. Anything else while I'm on the line?"
Zebina says "I put in a request for a concealed carry permit."
The voice says, "We'll try and get it to you by tomorrow."
Zebina says "That would be helpful. The Opera's tomorrow."
Zebina says "And do I have the ability to negotiate a deal with Mr. Lightner if his goals don't seem diametrically opposed to ours? Please keep in mind that there are Servitors of both the Game and Judgement involved."
"Sure." The papers are put down. "We'll do our best, all right?"
The voice says, "Hm. Look, you can make whatever deals you like, but if they're bad, then the Manager is going to want to have a word or two."
Zebina gives a thin little chuckle. "That's sort of what I figured. All right, I'll try not to make any major faux pas. Is there an emergency contact number available, just in case things go sour in a hurry?"
The voice dictates a phone number. "There's usually someone on the other end."
Zebina makes a note of the number.
Zebina says "All right, thank you very much."
"A pleasure," says the voice. "Best of luck."
Zebina says "To you too."
The phone is put down on the other end.
Zebina hangs up, programs in the fast dial.
Zebina picks up her other phone, and dials the Holiday Inn.
Zebina starts to ask for Daimon's room, actually, then hangs up.
Zebina dials Sarah's number instead.
Zebina hopes Chephi's around to answer.
Sarah S., as Zebina has all appropriate numbers, presumably is and doth indeed answer.
Zebina says "H'lo, Sarah?"
Sarah S. answers, "Speaking," with a rustle of paper. "Is that you, Liz?"
Zebina says "Yeah, it's me."
Zebina says "Listen, could you do me a big favor?"
Sarah S. says "Possibly. What is it?"
Zebina says "Daimon and I are probably going to go out tonight. I'm not sure where, yet, but we'll probably meet at the opera house. It would be really convenient if we sort of bumped into you at dinner. Bring a date, if you can."
Sarah S. repeats, her tone rather dubious, "A... date."
Zebina says "Well, yeah, if you can. Otherwise if you showed up on your own, that'd be nice too."
Zebina says "I just... well I just got off the phone with someone from Upstairs, and it's okay if I keep in contact with Daimon, but I'd like to have someone around, at least for tonight."
Sarah S. says "Ah. I'll... see what I can do, certainly. Where should I conveniently encounter you by chance?"
Zebina says "I'll give you a call back as soon as I see you."
Zebina says "Er, talk to Daimon, sorry. Mind's going six ways at once."
Zebina says "But I need to call him back real quick, I just wanted to make sure you were okay with the idea."
Sarah S. says "Of course."
Sarah S. says "I'll stay off the line till you call."
Zebina says "Thanks! You're a lifesaver. Callback soon. Bye!"
Sarah S. *click*
Zebina dials the Holiday Inn, asks for Daimon's room.
Daimon answers the phone. "Yeah, hello.
Zebina says "Daimon? It's Liz."
Daimon says "Hi Liz."
Daimon says "So, uh, tonight."
Zebina says "Yeah. Um, tonight."
Zebina says "Where do you have to work? Maybe we can meet nearby."
Daimon says "Oh, it's just business. I have to make contacts before I can do a show."
Daimon says "I'll just be about. But I can meet you at the Opera House."
Zebina says "Sure. How about by six?"
Daimon says "No problem. Do you have a choice of dinner? Chinese? Italian? Mexican?"
Zebina says "Um. How about Daimon's Choice?"
Zebina says "Trust me, after some dinners I've had overseas, just about any decent restaurant is fine."
Daimon says "Italian it is. I'll try to play phone book roulette and hope the place isn't too bad. Even better, I'll ask the front desk on the way out. I can pick you up at 6, and make reservations for 6:30, in case I have to go on a quest for a parking spot."
Zebina says "Okay, sure. I'll be at the opera house. Oh! Almost forgot."
Daimon says "Yeah?"
Zebina says "I told a friend of mine, Sarah, about how you can get in to watch the rehearsals if you're quiet."
Zebina says "So she might be along. You can meet her, if you like. She's one of the other people getting tickets."
"Oh," Daimon says. He sounds a little disappointed. "I can make reservations for three. We'll stick it on my credit card."
Zebina says "I don't know if she'll want dinner, but sure, that'd be nice. Although you don't have to pay for both of us, really."
Daimon says "No, that's okay. I think I can get the Org to cover it as a business expense."
Zebina says "The Org? What, is there a comedian's union or something?"
Daimon says "Oh, no, that's just what I call my union back home. You know how they take all of us entertainers and make us fill out tax forms."
Zebina says "Oh, I get it."
Zebina says "Okay, well, I'll see you at six. Bye!"
Zebina says "Have a really nice day."
Daimon says "Hey, have fun. See you later."
Zebina says "G'bye!"
Daimon says "Bye."
Daimon hangs up the phone.
Daimon leaves the room, grabbing his coat on the way out, and goes to cause havoc among the throngs of humanity.
At Luigi's, the innocent young Tania is waiting for Daimon.
Daimon points out that he has to stop at the liquor store first, and he'll leave the package in his car.
Daimon slides into the opposide of the booth across from Tania, and gives her a great big friendly Lilim smile.
Demiurge | Shal-Mari Toothpaste! Cleans those teeth whiter and more seductive!
Daimon uses Shal-Mari Toothpaste for that whiter then white smile!
Tania gives him a friendly and confiding smile back. "It's so good to see you! You wouldn't _believe_ what happened this morning during rehearsal!"
Elsewhere, Hitherby carries bags up to the roof.
Daimon says "No, I might not believe, but you might just convince me."
Daimon grins at Tania, and orders an almond cappachino.
Tania holds back her giggles, ordering herself a straight cappucino, then returns her attention to Daimon. "Someone broke all the mirrors in the ballet room!"
Daimon blinks. "That's weird. Any idea why, or who?"
She shakes her head. "None! Nobody has _any_ idea and it is really, really weird. I mean, who'd do something sick like that?"
Daimon . o 0 (Because he's a Shedite with a stupid sick sense of humor, or with a Windy artifact? Those are my guesses.)
Daimon says "Maybe it's some sort of weird joke."
The waiter brings the cappucinos, and she sips hers. "Yeah, well, it is totally strange. They had to sweep it all out before the dancers could practice again."
Daimon says "And they have no idea who did it? No one saw anyone running in or out, or heard anything?"
She shakes her head, and does her best to stop gazing at Daimon in a heartfelt manner. "Nobody saw anyone unusual. Except for those investment people, but they didn't go anywhere near there anyhow."
Daimon doesn't stop her from staring at him in a heartfelt manner. "Investment people?"
Daimon says "Is this two guys, poking around?"
She sips her coffee. "It's this guy and his secretary. She's got cute legs, but I bet she's a bimbo really."
Daimon . o 0 (Secretary is probably the Habbalah)
Daimon says "Maybe. How long have they been poking around, I wonder?"
She shrugs. "Just a couple of days, I think. It's this money stuff. I've never really tried finding out about how the Manager does the investments."
Daimon nods. "Okay, cool enough. How are your lessons going?"
She flushes. "How did you know?!"
Daimon grins a friendly way. "Well, from what I heard yesterday, your voice sounds so trained I assumed you were taking lessons."
Daimon says "Call it a shot in the dark."
She still looks nervous, but begins to relax a little. "Well, yes, I am, but, you know, they're kind of, well, private. But my teacher says that I'm doing well."
Daimon backs off on this line of questioning. "I wish you luck with them. I didn't mean to bring up something so personal."
She looks a little embarassed. "I'm sorry. It's just, you know, my teacher is kind of private about it."
Daimon reaches over and pats her on the hand. "I understand."
Daimon flashes her a nice, big, friendly smile.
She relaxes again, and gives him a wide-eyed look of appreciation.
You paged Daimon with 'Let me guess. :)'.
Daimon pages: I'm totally innocent.
You paged Daimon with 'Okay, I acquit you of use of the Lilim of Lust attunement. :)'.
Daimon pages: Okay then. So I use it.
She says, tentatively, "And you're really the world-wide comedy star Daimon Lightner?"
Daimon pages: I don't even have to roll. How about that.
You paged Daimon with 'You don't _have_ to. :)'.
Daimon pages: No, no, I think I will.
Zebina pages to Demiurge: OK, Sarah and I are going to the Library (one of them) to research as much of Focals as is possible--how long they've been open, any public investment stuff. Then we're going to try and schedule an appointment today if possible, tomorrow if it's late, and then go to the Opera House. We'll meet Daimon at 6.
Daimon says "It's more like a 'word of mouth spread not really well known stand up comic Daimon Lightner.'"
Long distance to Zebina: Demiurge nods. I'll get back to you in a moment.
You paged Daimon with 'She thinks you're absolutely gorgeous, she wants to be an opera star, she wants to get rid of some minor acne on her shoulders, she wants to know why her singing teacher's being so secretive and what some of the stuff he's teaching her is.'.
Tania nods. "But I'm sure that you're really on the fast track to success."
Daimon says "It's more like a slow drunken waver, actually."
Daimon gets up and slides into the same booth seat as Tania.
Tania swallows, but holds her position. "But you've performed in LA and everywhere. One of the other girls showed me an article when I was asking about.. that is, we were just talking."
Daimon says "Here, hold up your hair. You look a little tense."
You say "I do?"
Tania obediently holds her hair up.
Daimon says "Yeah, just a little. I think the whole scene with the broken mirrors really shook you up."
Daimon reaches up and starts to rub the ache out of here shoulders.
Tania totally ignores her coffee, after five seconds, and sits there in a blissed-out state of massagedness.
Daimon goes for the Geasa, baby!
Tania unwittingly yields up a Geas/1, indeed.
Daimon rubs her shoulders for a while, until the deed is fulfilled, and then gives a good yank on Mr. Geas.
You paged Daimon with 'What are you trying to do?'.
Daimon pages: Invoke the geas so I can get more straight information out of her head.
<
You paged Daimon with 'She'll talk to you till the cows come home.'.
Daimon pages: Excellent
Daimon takes a sip of his coffee. "So tell me about your teacher."
Daimon pages: Moo.
You paged Daimon with 'Hm. The whole scoop on that may actually be a bit more than a Geas/1,
though that in itself may be of value to Daimon.'.
Tania looks a bit guiltily at the table. "Well, he's this really excellent musician, though he doesn't
take pupils often, so I was, like, really impressed when he offered to tutor me."
Tania says "He's a violinist, see."
Daimon pages: These things tend to cascade anyway.
Daimon says "Really?"
Daimon says "What does he teach you?"
Tania nods, seeming happier with this variant. "And he was, like, amnesiac for ages.. oh, he
teaches me singing."
Daimon says "Amnesiac?"
Daimon says "Recently?"
Tania shakes her head, and remembers her cappucino again. "No, this was ten years ago. He was
in some sort of accident."
Daimon says "What kind of an accident?"
Tania shrugs. "I don't know. He doesn't like to talk about it."
Daimon says "So, why are you so uncomfortable with what he's teaching you?"
Tania wriggles slightly. "I'm not."
Daimon says "Is he teaching you anything strange?"
Tania turns pink. She's a bad liar. "Well, some of the vocal exercises are kind of weird... but it's
all perfectly decent. He doesn't, like, you know, try anything."
Daimon grins in a friendly way. "No, I don't believe he's trying anything. But I'm a musician too,
and I'm interested in your vocal exercises. How are they weird?"
Tania waves a hand, trying to be descriptive. "Well, normally you sort of go up and down the
scale. These are more like music, but different. Do you sing or do you play?"
Daimon says "Both, but I play far more then I sing. Mostly guitar. You know, an unwashed
bohemian unlearned musician."
Daimon grins. "But I know scales. How are your scales weird? Their just standard 8 note and
chromatic, right?"
Tania seems at a loss for words, and also growing stubborn. "They're weird. Look..." she
hesitates, "I'm not sure I should have gone on about this, anyhow."
Daimon says "I'm sorry."
Daimon gets up and slides into the seat across from her, where he originally started.
Tania hangs her head, looking more than a touch guilty. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I shouldn't have
gone on about it."
Daimon says "No, no, that's okay. I was just interested. Can you at least give me the name of your
teacher? Just meeting a famous violinist would be of a great honor to me."
<
Tania says "Well, he works at..."
Tania clams up.
Tania says "I can't. He made me promise."
Tania looks miserably at her hands.
Daimon nods knowingly. "I can understand."
Tania looks up hopefully. "Do you understand? I don't want to break a promise."
Daimon says "Sure, I understand.""
Daimon grins in a real friendly way.
Tania says, shyly, "Thanks."
Daimon says "No, really, I understand."
Tania looks grateful. "A lot of guys wouldn't.
Daimon reaches over and grabs her hand. He raises it to his lips and kisses her fingers.
Daimon then grins again, and drinks some of his now-cold cappachino.
Daimon says "Well, I'm not a lot of guys."
Tania blushes, and gives another heartfelt look as she finishes off her own stone-cold drink
without noticing the temperature.
Tania says "You're a prince of a guy."
Daimon says "Thank you."
Daimon looks down at his watch.
Daimon says "Don't you need to return to your opera practice?"
Tania looks at her own watch, and goes rigid. "Oh no, oh hell, I've got to run, look, this was
simply too cool. Can I see you again?"
Daimon says "Sure. Can I give you a lift? My car is parked right outside."
Tania bounces out of her seat. "That'd be wonderful! It's just down the road a bit."
Daimon says "No problem."
Daimon goes about picking up another Geas.
Tania picks up her shoulder bag, and follows Daimon along to his car.
Daimon drives her to the opera house, which is, conveniently, where he's headed.
Tania says, hopefully, "Are you doing anything at lunch tomorrow?"
Daimon says "Oh, no, I'm still free. Do you want to meet again?"
Tania is clearly torn between Seeming Too Eager and Not Wanting to Miss This Chance. She
falls. "I'd love to."
Daimon says "Sure. Same place, same time."
Daimon grins in a friendly, sort of almost boyfriendish manner.
Tania grins back happily. She leans across to grab his hands. "You're just a Prince Charming, you
know that?"
Daimon says "I didn't know, but now I do."
Daimon leans across to kiss Tania.
Tania returns the kiss, eyes glowing.
Tania (with enthusiasm, not bright red)
Daimon says "See you later?"
Tania says "Definitely!"
Tania releases herself, and runs for the opera house, waving over her shoulder.
Daimon waves.
Daimon pulls the car into a spot, happy with a few hooks on a human, grabs the bag with the skin
mag, and goes around to the back of the opera house to have a talk with the guy at the door.
It's still the same guy on the door. He looks up, and recognises Daimon. "Hi there, Mr Lightner."
Daimon says "Hey, since you were such a nice guy yesterday, I thought I'd bring you a present."
Daimon hands the paper bag to the guy.
He blinks, and opens the bag, then grins.
<
"Hey. How the hell did you know I read this one?"
You paged Daimon with 'Have a Geas/2. :)'.
Hitherby notes Daimon's return, from a nearby building, prolly, but doesn't know there's any
reason to care :)
Daimon pages: Thanks, I will.
Daimon pages: I feel like such a bastard. This rocks. :)
You say "Indeed, Hitherby observes this, and the Tania interplay as he drops her off, too."
Daimon sits down on the step next to the guy at the back door.
Daimon says "Hey, would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"
He riffles the pages of the magazine, then slides it away for later. "Sure, no problem."
Daimon squints his eyes at the sun. "The two investment guys that come through here, the guy
and his secretary, do you know their names?
He settles himself comfortably in his chair. "Sure. He's called Michael Focals, and she's called
Maria Namar. She's a babe."
Daimon says "How long have they been coming around, do you know?"
Hitherby can't hear them; can she see when one of them is talking, though? She's considering
leaping into the guard briefly the next time Daimon is about to speak, although she expects to be
bored and to leap out again. :)
You say "You can see them, Hitherby, yes."
The guy looks thoughtful. "Guess it's just the last couple of days."
Hitherby will do it, next time Daimon opens his mouth. Of course, she might fail. :)
Daimon says "Really? They ever talk to you?"
<
<
You paged Hitherby with 'You're in. Pose what you do. ;)'.
The guard (Hitherby) says "Hm?"
Daimon says "I asked, did you talk to the investment people any?"
Hitherby shakes his head. "Nope."
Daimon furrows his brow. "Do you know who they talk to when they go inside?"
Hitherby thinks about that. "I'm sorry," he admits, shaking his head. "The boss, I guess?"
Daimon says "Which one?"
You say "Hitherby certainly seems rather confused. Not quite as sharp as the guard was a minute
or two ago."
Hitherby says, "Not the conductor or anything." He frowns. "The finance guy."
Daimon says "Right. There are TWO Bosses. You send the Investor guys in to see one of them.
Which one?"
Hitherby pops out of the guard. :)
Daimon says "I know you send people in. You did with me yesterday."
The guard blinks.
Daimon says "Are you okay?"
He says, "Yeah. Sorry. Yeah, I talked to the investment people some, or at least, to that looker
of a secretary."
Daimon looks a little more relieved. He was starting to look jumpy. "What are they like?"
He thinks. "Well, the lawyer guy, Focals, he's a rich-looking type. Suit and briefcase and all that.
And good hair. The secretary, she just walks along with those little steps and talks real quiet and
gives you looks from under her eyelashes." He pauses. "There was a guy who chauffered them,
too, but he didn't come in."
Daimon gives the guard a LOOK for a few long minutes.
Daimon says "Really? Is the lawyer guy just a jerk?"
He shrugs. "You know lawyers. They're all jerks. He didn't give me the time of day, just walked
right on past."
Daimon says "Ah, he would. And the secretary? Did she, you know, give you a look?"
Daimon fishes in his pocket for a cigarette.
The guard looks happy. "Did she ever. I don't know how a girl who dresses so quiet can look like
that, you know?"
Daimon says "Yeah, I can imagine."
Daimon says "I have two more questions. The first is, which boss does the investment people talk
to? The second is if you know anything about the ballet room."
The guard frowns. "The investment people talk to Mr Guther. He's the manager. And how did
you know about the mirrors?"
Daimon says "I heard a rumor, that's all."
Daimon says "I thought you might be in the Know."
He settles again, still looking unhappy. "Well, someone just walked in there and smashed all the
mirrors while the dancers were at lunch. They eat early, see. He took one of the balance stands
to them. Or she. Whatever."
The man leans forward. "And way I figure it, it has to have been someone from inside here.
People are jumpy."
Daimon says "Any idea who would do something like that?"
He snorts. "Shit, no. A month ago I'd have said nobody round here would ever have done a thing
like that."
Hitherby reasons, carefully, since she has angelic intelligence. Daimon is asking the guard
questions about things. Yet he was inside the building yesterday. It seems unlikely that he works
there. And he made me nervous. Since I have a bee up on the building, I slip it down towards
Daimon and the guard. I don't want to listen, and I don't even know if bees can hear, but I'd like
to follow him.
Daimon says "Has anything else strange happened in the last few days like this?"
You say "Hitherby's bee can, indeed, follow Daimon. Hopefully he won't notice the buzzing."
Daimon says "Maybe not so overt, but maybe something equally destructive?"
Hitherby doesn't like it when people make her nervous. Although I suppose it would be morally
wrong to sting him just for that.
The guard chews his lip. "Yeah, well... people have been getting tense. Stage crew were arguing.
Props has been drinking. Someone's been stealing stuff. Some people say the opera's cursed."
Daimon . o 0 (Well, now I know where the Game is probably at. I need to know why they care
about this place... or this PLAY, in particular. And a Lustie, just my luck.)
Daimon says "Props?"
Hitherby whispers "Let me know when and if the bee is close enough to hear. (As I said, I don't
mind if I can't, but I might, so I should ask :)"
The guard has a sudden and obvious realisation that Daimon doesn't understand. "He's the guy
who handles the stage properties. Things actors use on stage, you know."
You paged Hitherby with 'Probably about now.'.
Daimon says "How long has he been drinking? Did he just start heavily, recently?"
Hitherby pages: Thankee!
Daimon says "And... this is a weird question, has he suddenly gotten REALLY obnoxious?"
The guard turns slowly to look at Daimon. "Well, he's been drinking about a month now. It
started kind of sudden. And yeah, it hasn't done much for his temper. He's been getting worse."
Daimon says "Can you quantify 'worse'?"
He shrugs, uneasily. "Just not so nice. I don't see him much."
Daimon nods.
Daimon says "Do you know if any other stagehands were hired on the same time Props started
getting mean?"
He shrugs. "I think we took on a few. Can't be sure."
Daimon nods.
Hitherby feels smug. Hitherby, brilliant investigator. I don't even have to ask my own questions.
He pauses. "Stage manager would know, probably."
Daimon says "Is that Guther?"
You say "Daimon, make a Perception roll."
<
Daimon says " Made."
The guard shakes his head. "No, it's Mr Johns. Bill Johns."
You say "Daimon, there's a bee over near you. Your danger perception warns you that it's a nasty
thing that might sting you, especially given how near it is."
Daimon says "Okay, can you point me in his direction?"
Daimon jumps up, and yells "Christ!"
Daimon backs away from the spot. "There's a really big bee by you, man."
The guard comes to his feet, quicker than might be expected, and grabs for a newspaper. He
swats at the bee.
Daimon backs away from the spot a little more, and shifts his weight.
Hitherby dodges and tries to look smaller.
<
<
The guard flails, but fails to hit the bee.
Hitherby buzzes up, disturbed, and lands about nine feet off the ground on the Opera House wall,
above the door.
Daimon says "Man, it's on the wall. Maybe I should go in around front."
The guard says, "Well, shit. Better get some fly-spray in. Look, it was Mr Johns you saw the
other day. Just walk right in, you know the way." He's panting a bit.
Daimon edges through the door, making a big point of avoiding the bee.
Hitherby doesn't hesitate, although she's nervous now, and follows through the door as
inobviously as possible. Which isn't much.
The guard yells, "It's after you!" and takes another swing at it.
<
Daimon does his damnedest to avoid the bee.
<
The guard scores a blow on the bee's wing, smacking it to the floor.
You say "Hitherby's dodge and the guard's hit were both successful: she's knocked to the floor
but not actually hurt seriously."
Daimon says, "Just step on it and squish it."
The guard mutters, "Sure," and raises a big foot. It approaches the downed bee like the Tread of
Doom.
Hitherby tries to get up and scurry/fly out of the way, but it depends on details of the scene I may
not be envisioning like the GM is. (The clever thing to do would be to cling to the space between
the front treads and the back treads, but that would be riskier, too :)
You say "Hitherby, you can (a) try and fly away, (b) try and cling to gap in treads, which would
be riskier, yes."
You say "Daimon, you may meanwhile run for cover. :)"
Daimon happily runs for cover away from the Bee. Ick.
Hitherby thinks. Oh, heck. *Style* is everything. I try to cling to the gap between treads, so that
I'm not seen to fly away while the guard is looking at me.
Hitherby dunno what she's rolling, or what she needs, but rolls ...
<
<
You say "With incredible luck, Hitherby manages to squirm to the side and cling to the edge of
the boot, taking only minor damage."
The guard looks down contentedly. "Got it."
Daimon says "Thank god. Well, thanks for your help, man."
Daimon waves to the guard.
Hitherby's current plan: (she's got a million of 'em!) wait until the guard has almost completely
closed the door, then jump into him, slip through the door as the bee, and then have the guard
close the door the rest of the way and follow Daimon in the bee from a distance.
Hitherby . o O ( Mental Note: heal bee. )
Daimon goes to find the stage manager.
The guard waves back, and heads for the door to take his position again.
<
<
You say "Okay, Hitherby, you have the guard."
You say "Daimon, the stage manager is in his office where he was last time. You can hear
rehearsal-like noises drifting from the direction of the stage."
Hitherby nods. She fulfills her evil plan, closing the door most of the way, letting the bee slip
through and after Daimon, then closing the door the rest of the way and leaving the guard again.
Daimon knocks on the door.
Hitherby . o O ( Mental Note: Reward the poor guard for bopping in and out of him like he was
a rubber nose. )
The stage manager's voice calls, "Come in!"
Daimon opens the door, and says, "Sorry to bother you again."
He looks up from his papers, and smiles, though he has a harried air. "Hey, no problem. What can
I do for you this time?"
Hitherby . o O ( GM: If I don't lose track of Daimon first, I think I'm going to crawl under the
door rather than fly through it -- less noise. Obviously, this guy has sharp ears! )
Daimon says "I just have a few questions."
Daimon closes the door behind him.
You say "Try a tracking roll, Hitherby."
<
Hitherby fails modestly.
Hitherby gathers she doesn't get through the door before Daimon turns a corner, and then follows
the sound of footsteps in the wrong direction, or something? :)
You say "You fail to follow Daimon in time, Hitherby."
He gestures to the other chair. "Sure. Though, without meaning to be rude, I hope it won't take
too long. I'm kind of busy."
Daimon sits down in the chair.
Daimon says "No, no. Just a few quick questions."
Daimon says "The first, can I ask... and I don't mean to pry... but what is Focal's Investments
investing in? It can't be the opera, it's only been a few days."
He frowns, and taps his pen against his cheek. "Well, way I heard it, we were considering getting
them to handle some of _our_ investments. Or the business manager was, rather. They're
supposed to be an up-and-coming lot."
Daimon says "But they're a rather small firm. Why not go with Fidelty or one of the big name
offices?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. Guess someone up above heard they were in the know, or whatever."
Daimon says "A huge operation like this, I would think your own lawyers would be handling your
money. It just strikes me as odd, that's all."
Again, he taps with the pen. "Yeah, well, it really isn't my field. Are you into investments yourself
or something?"
Daimon says "I'm looking into the background for a good friend of mine, who is thinking about
setting up shop. I was just interested. But my real question is... do you handle the hiring of
stagehands?"
He blinks at that. "One of my jobs, yes. Been having problems with some of our people, or
looking into a show for yourself elsewhere?"
Daimon says "Looking into a show for myself. Who did you hire about a month ago?"
He pauses to think. "A couple of guys for the stage and lighting crew. Is the time period
important?"
Daimon says "Yep. It sure is."
He begins to delve through books. "Hold it a moment, let me check."
Daimon leans back in his chair.
He looks up again. "Yeah, we took on a couple of people a month ago."
Daimon says "How many are still here?"
He checks. "Both of them."
Daimon says "Excellent. Can you tell me their names?"
He frowns. "Look, Mr Lightner, I'm one of your biggest fans, but this is pushing it a bit. You're
asking me to hand out some private information."
Daimon nods.
Daimon says "Okay, okay. I understand. How about this: can you give me a recommendation for
a good Italian resturant?"
He folds his arms. "Sure. Try Bianco's. It's about four blocks away."
Daimon grins. "Thanks. You've been incredibly helpful. Now I'll try to stay out of your way."
He chuckles, looking a shade embarassed. "It was good to meet you. Sorry if I've been busy, but
this is the most hectic period of a show.
Daimon says "No problem. I understand."
Daimon shakes his hand, then turns to leave.
The stage manager holds the door for him.
Daimon says "Good luck on your performance."
Daimon walks out the door, and begins his search for Props AND a phone.
Daimon says "At the same time, no less."
The phone is more visible, there being one just down the corridor there.
Daimon goes over, calls Information to get the number of Bianco's to make reservations.
You say "The number is easily obtained. There are reservations available for tonight. How many
people are the reservations for?"
Daimon says "Three."
Daimon is nice, and does schedule in the 'friend'.
You say "They take the reservation, with suitable politeness."
Daimon says "Coolness."
Daimon says "Now I go on my question for Props."
You say "You manage to corner a stagehand who tells you where to find Props, but who also says
that as it's currently a rehearsal in progress, he's going to be busy."
Daimon: And I say, Hey, so he will be. It'll only be a moment of his time.
Daimon says "But, I do ask him about the two guys hired on a month ago. Before I take off."
You say "He thinks, and says, "Yeah. We got Math in the lighting crew, and Jimmy in with us lot.
Both okay people.""
Daimon says "Either of them pretty funny guys?"
Daimon says "You know, fun to be with, play a few gags?"
You say "He tilts his head, giving you a look the way one regards the weird. "Well, they're both
okay, I guess. Good senses of humour. Jimmy's good at darts. Math's one of those guys who's
good at sorting out arguments.""
Daimon says "Okay, thanks."
Daimon goes off to find Props.
Demiurge notes that it is now mid-afternoon.
Daimon notes that he doesn't have too much time left before he needs to be datin'.
You say "Okay. After much hunting through twisting corridors, you find a small room close to
(a) the dressing rooms, and (b) the stage. It's got several large boxes full of gear, several tables
with gear set out, a desk, and a man sitting at the desk."
Daimon smiles at the man. "Howdy."
The man at the desk is scribbling frantic notes on what is evidently a list of problems. He is
balding, thin and slightly stooped, with age spots on his hands and reddened eyes. He looks up
with a start.
Daimon grins in a friendly way.
"Gee, hi," he says. "Can I help you?" He keeps on scribbling even as he speaks.
Daimon says "Are you Props?"
He nods. "That's me, yup. What can I do you for?"
Daimon resonates on Props.
<
Demiurge . o O ( Darn Lilim are good at this investigation thing )
Daimon . o 0 (Damn straight.)
You say "Daimon, you perceive Needs for a good satisfying scratch, to corrupt his host further
and indulge himself, to squirm in the pure satisfaction of wrapping his slimy tentacles round an
unwilling being while in Celestial form, and for the Joke to Work."
You say "Yes, that's definitely a Shedite."
You say "You may wish to mentally retch."
You say "Some of those Needs were quite strong."
Daimon looks momentarily ill.
He frowns. "Something the matter?"
"No," Daimon says in perfectly clear demonic. "But I think we need to have a Talk."
<
An actor comes running in, ignoring both Daimon and Props, grabs a dagger off a nearby table,
waves, and runs out again. The music outside swells and ebbs.
Props blinks. "Huh?"
Daimon starts searching his jacket for his cigarette.
Daimon continues in perfectly clear Helltongue, "I said, we need to have a Talk."
Daimon plops himself down in a chair.
Daimon says in English, "With a capitol T."
Props shakes his head. "You got a throat problem, mister? I'm busy."
Daimon says "How funny do you think being caught is?"
He shrugs, and makes a note on one of his stacks of paper. "About as funny as a hamster in the
throat, I guess. Depends what for."
Daimon says "A few friends who are not of yours or mine are after you like someone lit their
collective ass on fire, and they already know you are HERE, and they've already been here."
Daimon says "Look, man, I couldn't give a shit what you're up to, even if I tried. But you aren't
going to make jerks of us all."
There's a flicker of something behind his eyes. "Look here, mister, I haven't a clue what you're up
to. Now get out of here before I yell for security."
"Listen to me asshole," Daimon hisses. "Your kind makes me visibly sick. But the Game is here
to drag you back in. Got it?"
Daimon says "You are fucking lucky I got here first."
He squints at Daimon, more definitely this time. "Oh. You're one of _that_ sort, are you."
Daimon says "I'm the nice sort."
He shrugs, a smoother motion. "You're the sort who doesn't like my sort."
Daimon says "Such is life. But I'm also the sort who has an interest in your continued survival,
and your ability to be funny in a really big ass way."
Two actresses come in, giggling, and collect vases from one of the tables.
Props' eyes follow them as they leave, in what is definitely a leer.
Props says, after they're gone, "Well, I'm the sort who's planning to be really amusing, really
soon."
Daimon says "What our collective Agent is hoping for is that you do something really funny,
avoid the Bad Guys, and then move yourself back on home."
Props says, in a tone somewhere between cheerful and dire, "That sounds a cool sort of thing to
do."
Daimon says "That sounds like exactly what you are going to do."
He scribbles something down about the two vases. "Yeah, well, that's good, then."
Daimon says "I already spotted the Game."
He shrugs. "Yeah, me too. They were all over the place this morning."
Daimon says "I need to know what you're planning. The Boss needs to be informed that you two
are planning on embarrassing them in a big way."
He raises his hands. "Ah. That's a no-no."
Daimon frowns.
Daimon says "I have no interest in playing pooper scooper if you two fuck up. I'm currently
running under the impression that you're innocent, and just being funny."
Daimon says "If you aren't, then... well."
He slams the papers down. "Honey-cutie, you're gonna have to trust us, or else you can get out
of here and take the expressway back down where you came from. The razorblade one."
Daimon says "I can't trust you, for the obvious reasons."
He smirks. "You're going to have to."
Daimon says "I can't. I'm going to assume that the Game will need to be foiled, one way or
another, and that you're working in good faith."
Daimon ponders.
Daimon says "One way or another there will be anvils dropped on heads."
Props says, with the air of ritual, "There will be chainsaws."
Daimon nods. "Can you tell me which one is Lucrezio?"
Daimon says "Which stage hand, I mean."
There is another interruption, as half the chorus burst in to dump daggers and collect flags,
mobbing round Daimon and Props while pretty much ignoring them.
Daimon sighs, and waits.
Props says, when they're gone, "He's in the lighting gallery. Up in the flies."
Daimon nods. "Fine. Maybe I'll drop by and talk to him."
Daimon looks at his watch to check out the time.
Props nods again. He begins stacking paper, automatically. "By the way, you have anything to do
with the bird infestation opposite?"
Daimon says "Uh... nope."
He sighs. "Great."
Daimon says "Okay, well, I have a ticket to the show. I'm hoping in 48 hours, we'll all be home
laughing."
Props grunts. "Look, don't mess this one up. We've got things running on schedule."
Daimon says "ME? Me mess things up? I'm not worrying about me, slime boy."
Daimon says "YOU'RE the one whose name came up with the word 'box'."
He sniffs. "Well, you're the one who got sent out on a branch to hunt us, no? Right next to the
Game? What does that say about _you_, horny-boy?"
Daimon takes a long drag on his cigarette.
Daimon says "That makes me the best friend you've got, slimy."
Props grunts. "Go chew smoke somewhere else, greenskin. I've got work to do."
Daimon blows some smoke in Props' general direction.
Daimon says "Indeed you do. Don't fuck up. Or you will be unhappy."
Daimon leaves on that note.
---