IC: EVENT

[bossman]

A TERRIBLE THING IS HAPPENING

reference books detailing myths and legends stolen from libraries...
wikipedia pages wiped clean from the face of the internet...
ancient stained glass windows smashed and destroyed...
historical research centers burnt to the ground...

Someone out there is trying very, very hard to erase all of the possible sources of power and belief of the ancient gods and goddesses. And it hurts. Whilst the powers of the minders are unharmed by the attacks, the gods and goddesses will be certainly feeling the toll: it's now painfully clear that even the simplest of miracles are now becoming almost impossible to perform.

deities, you had better have gifted your minders with some decent blessings! Because now you're going to rely on them more than ever. Someone is out to get you.

Comments

( PART 1 | closed thread | otherwise go wild with reactions )

[tome]

They're exceptionally well-organized for such an unusual group -- well-trained and funded with more than enough to move a number of people and several devices to Russia overnight. Jaye is left behind, locked up in the basement after her little... outburst of emotion.

They draw mild attention to themselves in their secrecy and abundance of junk food, but no one asks questions; no one sees them as a threat.

( Veliky Novgorod, Russia. )

The museum is attacked at night. Several timed and strategically placed explosives will destroy it entirely.

Those who look closely will find that an ancient artifact called the Birch Bark Letter 292 has disappeared without a trace.

Payton Penn and his followers vanish afterwards.

PART TWO (text to ALL and action!)

[apreparescuer]

[The moment there had been reports through the military grapevine that the Novgorod Museum of History was under lockdown, Uriel knew there was no other option than to get out to that aged city with all due haste.

Russia's city of Velikiy Novgorod is teeming with churches, chapels, and structures dating back to the twelfth century, as well as a once unquestioned center for book production. Of course. How could he not have thought about it before? How had they missed this?

There was only one option for Uriel. Get down into the museum, throw his military rank from the United Kingdom around and find out just what the hell had been pulled. Lockdowns always meant one or both of two things: bombs and hostages.

The angel was lucky in one regard: no hostages. Every hall and building was devoid of people, and the city's policing forces, tactical teams, and specialists were all assembling outside to quickly organize how the situation would be taken care of. Uriel was alone in the archaeological wing with a room rigged to blow.

There wasn't time to get things out. There just wasn't time, no matter how desperately he wished there was. Nor was it safe. He wasn't risking this being another Kabul all over again. Eden would never forgive him. He wouldn't forgive himself.

At three minutes to 4am, Uriel's fingers bled from twisting and untwisting so many wires. There should have been a whole team on this, but he didn't have a choice.

At two minutes to 4, he heard a click across the room. Two seconds later, the entire museum detonated in a daisy chain of fire. He'd run out of time.

At 4:10 in the morning, Russian time, every deity and every minder with a phone gets this message:]

TO: [ emergency : ALL ]

we've got a big problem on our hands.

to every single soul: the gates of tartarus are open.
i was in the museum, trying to diffuse the network of explosives when it blew.
they knew. they knew all along.
i was distracted; the gates were broken open.

they. are. out.
cronus, the 200 fallen grigori, every soul imprisoned there is free to walk.

this is a call to arms.

[Then, a frantic text afterwards, intended for a select few, but sent to his entire house, arch and fallen angels alike, demons and mortals.]

TO: [ house ]

rafael, brother, i need you.

eden and magda- have faith. for all our sakes, have faith.

TEXT | URIEL and EDEN

[salvations]

[ The windows of all the great cathedrals may be smashed; the books may be burned, the tapestries lost. But Magdalena carries the word of God in her heart and so repeats them to herself as a sign of her faith — both in Uriel and his brothers. Her hands do not shake upon the keys.

In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them: in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of old. ]

we're going to need a bigger boat.
do we even have the ordinance to fight this?

[miscreantics]

[Hermes never expects texts from the angels, but right now? He expects anything.

Well, almost anything. Anything except that. He reads the text over and over at high speeds before groaning, burying his head in his hands for a good minute. Then, he shoots the Morrigan a small smile with an excuse me before sending out his own texts.]

To [Fam: Papabear]

We have to assemble, at least the Twelve. We can't wait on it anymore. I can run again, I'll be there asap, and I know that Ares, Artemis and Apollo are on their way from NYC too. Assembling can't be any less dangerous than this.

To: [Fam: Polly Pocket, Artemis, Ares]

Change of plans, going straight to London. See you there be safe. Tell Terpsi bye for me.

To: [ Minders ]

going straight to London, shit just got real. Meet me there ASAP, Cam find bring a wheelchair. I might need it.

text | house

[ecclesiastes]

You're hurt.

Is there anything the rest of us can do to help you heal?

TEXT | to all

[wiliness]

TO: [ all ]

I am missing a minder.

With recent events, you may think this a trifle. I don't believe her absence is a coincidence.

I will be grateful for assistance.

[miscreantics]

To: [Coyote]

I'll look into it when I find time if I find time I cant promise anything though.

PART THREE | TEXT | CLOSED BUT OPEN TO REACTIONS

[shams]

TO: [ ALL ]


mistakes were made
only the wise may enter
you'll need a name for admission
and a word for permission:

stormcrows and rabbits and foxes for one
coyote to many and loki to some

OPEN

[threetimesgreat]

Spider-man
trickster

Both the inbox and the trash.

I was told to trust the usurper, the defector, whichever it would be, and so I shall. Signs point to this being Anansi, who has given us a look into his e-mail.

Someone must guard the Dead Sea Scrolls. Other targets are Rome, perhaps the Mogao Caves and the Dunhaung manuscripts.

If there are artifacts left and you think they would be safest elsewhere, I will continue to be at my archives in Cairo. I would advise against visiting the museum.

I may be wrong. I hope that I am not.

Spider, if this trips your web, I would ask that we speak.

TEXT | SALEM and GARETH

[acrimonies]

TO: [ babydoll, fido ]

YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE TO SPOIL YOUR FUN
BUT YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO COME ON HOME NOW
WE'VE GOT REAL WORK TO DO

TEXT

[snapt]

perfect timing im running out of people
whats up buttercup

MESSAGE | to the seven and their minders

[oppose]

The crows are no longer so much of a priority.
SECURE THE TEN (in case this had not been made clear, we are in talks with the Phantom Queen);
the rest, consolidate and keep in custody (feel free to delegate this duty to underlings since you guys seem to be so miffed about it).
(REITERATING THE FACT THAT THEY ARE NOT TO BE EATEN OR HARMED IN ANY WAY.)

Payton is the bigger priority. Amon is already on the case; if possible, I would like Leviathan and Belphegor to be assigned as well.
PLEASE TAKE YOUR MINDERS, AND BE CAREFUL.

Mammon, please look into the transactions of money in the email that Thoth was so kind as to crack the code for.

GENERAL NOTE: CALL ME if anything should arise.
Call in back-up if you should need to.

Further information pending.

POSTSCRIPT: As per Thoth's message, please see if any of the heavier-hitting lower demons are in the vicinities of any mentioned items and have them help out.

TEXT

[acrimonies]

TO: [ lucy ]

NOT POSSIBLE
I DON'T NEED THOSE FUCKERS TRIPPING ME UP
SEND THEM SOMEWHERE ELSE

[Email | Forwarded to everyone | Open]

[mothir]

[Frigg has been understandably nervous since this whole indecent began, but it wasn't anything she needed to loose sleep over. If it's not Ragnarök, they'd get through it fine. Maybe not the other houses, but at least the ones that matter. Then the anonymous whoever sent that greeting from his "associate" and gave her a real reason to be scared.

She knows what she has to do. Her talent for prophecy has obviously been hit hard, but she needs to know. She has to see who's coming and how to stop it.

She gets nothing at first, which was to be expected, really. She goes deeper and deeper, and it's only when she's at her absolute breaking point when she sees. Death. Destruction. An overwhelming sense of the end, but not as she's seen it before. There's something profoundly wrong on the horizon, and they need to stop it soon.

Looking that far and deep sapped her of any strength she had left. With unconsciousness looming, she has to act fast if she wants to get the truth out.

The message she sends out it rushed and unpolished, anything she can get down before she finally passes out.]



this not natural. this was not in the grand design.

fake. manufactured. artificial.

miðgarðr is not at its end. this is ours. our reign will be over if we do not take up arms.



[OOC: Any replies from Frigg will come a good 12 hours after she sends the message.]

[Email | Open]

[ofvictory]

We knew that already.

They will not have us so easily, Frigg. Is there anything else you want to share with us?

[You who see but do not share. Sigyn sort of thinks now would be the time to cough up, if ever.]

NEWS BULLETIN; CNN

[contagious]

---the quarantine has extended from select neighborhoods to the entire city of Chicago and the surrounding areas. The entire city is locked down, with no one allowed in or out. All flights have been canceled and the airports shut down. The government has assured the people of Chicago that their safety of of top priority, and the World Health Organization has been summoned for an emergency meeting on the subject. It is still unknown how the infections began, but supplies of vaccines and antidotes are running dangerously low. No word yet from Russia and France on whether or not their supplies will be flown in. With 60% of the city's population infected and 30% in critical condition, it's unknown how long the rising death toll can be kept at bay.

Word has just come in that infections have begun to crop up in Dallas, St. Louis, Albany, Springfield, Atlanta and Salt Lake City, and citizens of those cities are urged to stay inside whenever possible and to keep their city and state officials notified. Residents of other cities in the states mentions should travel to or around infected areas with great caution.

Thank you Andrea, that--

[In a House in Chicago, in Belmont Heights, three of the Four wait. The minders wait. Pestilence, War and Famine wait, drinking tea and coffee, tearing at the metaphorical bit with anticipation while the eldest Brother collects the victims of Pestilence's vengeance.

They wait because the tides are turning, the ripples in the water growing ever larger, and to the victor go the spoils. To the victor go the horsemen.]

TEXT | to THOTH and MINDERS

[weighing]

TO: [ Egyptian: ALL ] [ Egyptian: MINDERS ]

There are too many souls at the gates. The scales will fall. I must take Adila to America :)

[email | to Norse and their minders]

[ofvictory]

Surtr and the sword.

The time for action is now. Any ideas are welcomed; I suggest we find him, cut his throat, and take the sword where nobody outside the house of the gods can find it. However, there are some in our number with better minds for strategy.

What's clear is that we need to act, and soon.

[email | to Norse and their minders]

[prosperous]

He carries the sword as he was meant to. He only rides out too soon.

MESSAGE | NORSE HOUSE | Hackable/Open

[thunderstorming]

Subj: There is not enough mead to make me handle all of this properly.
To: [ Norse : ALL ] [ Norse : MINDERS (ALL) ]

Have we considered that Ragnarök may be among us?
We should prepare ourselves for battle in any event.
I have heard the Judeo Christian House has begun taking arms; we should take the same precaution.

open | that awkward moment when you both post 5 minutes apart

[ofvictory]

No. Frigg saw it herself that this isn't a part of our destiny, it's been manufactured artificially. This is an act of deliberate war by those whoresons, and they have one of our number waiting in the wings.

I have no doubt the Judeo-Christians are even now mobilizing to retrieve their errant demon. We should do the same.

open | sent to everyone he knows

[arenokami]

what the FUCK is going on. it's raining but I can't feel it. something happened while I was out fishing but what. tell me.
-スサノオ

[ex_shinings220]

TO: "nii-san"; group: minders;

just what the fuck did you think you were doing ? MY SHRINE IS RUINED !! ヽ(≧Д≦)ノ it was never funny the first time idiot.

TEXT | OPEN to ALL

[prosperous]

My minder has shown me that things are darker than I realised. I am ready now. My apologies for the delay.

TEXT

[mothir]

TO: [Freyr]

I think it would be wisest for you to stay out of sight. With Surtr running loose with that sword, there's no telling what he'll do.

He might go for you first. We need you.

[ LOCATION : MOGAO CAVES, CHINA ]

[yokeless]

[ 5.45am. The demon Kali is here in the freezing cold of the morning, silent and watching for the first signs of movements on the approach to the caves. He knows to expect trouble, he just knows these things. Like a shadow amidst the rocks he watches, ready to wait four hundred and thirty-two thousand years or more for Belial to send word. ]

(OOC NOTE: nobody is playing Kali; feel free to NPC a kick ass fight or persuade him to step aside, WHATEVER. He can be persuaded because Belial has been a bit of a condescending dick and Kali isn't particularly convinced this is the real Kali Yuga after all!! Stupid demons.)

SULIS + ACHERON.

[sprung]

[ In the end, she chooses to take neither of her minders with her to the caves. Both Craig and Tiffany are left at the hotel with express instructions to contact her and Acheron if movement happens, if anything happens, if there's any word. If she's not back in a couple of hours, they're to contact Persephone and the other rivers, contact the Morrígan and Nehmain and any other of the Celtic gods they can get a hold of. If she's not back in a couple of hours, Sulis Minverva suspects she may not be back at all. It grieves her, if only to think of Bath and how it has flourished — who will watch over it when she is gone?

Both those are thoughts for another time as the sun creeps over a distant ridge and Sulis of the Bath and the River Acheron follow the path down towards the caves. She says nothing, both hands held at her sides in readiness. ]

[ LOCATION : DAMASCUS, SYRIA ]

[yokeless]

[ 11.42pm. The still corridors of the Museum of Damascus are seemingly empty - full of only moonlight and shadows as dust motes drift between the exhibitions. Here are the majority of the Ebla tablets, precious artefacts that apparently prove the existence of certain Biblical figures and locations. Powerful objects of faith, all of them.

Except the corridors are certainly not empty. Here, a phalanx of thirty Grigori – pale-faced and haggard fallen angels, imprisoned for unspeakable lengths of time and all of them carrying with them a burning need for revenge – are stationed amongst the tablets, hidden by Belial's deceits and trickery. They wait, silent and patient, for their master Belial to arrive. ]

OOC NOTE: the Grigori are cannon fodder! If you are playing one of the Grigori that DIDN'T get thrown in to Tartarus then feel free to have your character feel slightly remorseful as they kick the Grigori's asses! The Grigori are quite dangerous and very desperate but some may be persuaded to step aside and allow characters to secure the tablets...

THE DEVIL'S ENTOURAGE shit son.

[befallen]

[ This is not how it works: the Devil doesn't say jump and Esther doesn't say how high. No, instead, Lucifer says what are your thoughts on Syria? and his minder gives a shrug and says could be worse. Which is why they're here — Lucifer the Morning Star and his minder and anyone else brave, brash, or determined enough to come along in tow.

The still corridors of the Museum of Damascus are seemingly empty, but how things seem and how they truly are can be very different. Being the minder of the son of perdition has taught Esther this, so she asks as they stand on the museum steps: ]

For the record, I'm not sure how good I'll be in a fight.

[ LOCATION : ? ? ? ]

[yokeless]

OOC NOTE: Please respond with posts detailing your character arriving to where they think Belial is going to turn up! There can only be ONE POST per location so please group together with others if more than one of you think you have the correct location. Only the correct post will be replied to – if your characters goes to the wrong place they will just be sitting around getting bored for quite a long time!

JERUSALEM, ISRAEL

[seedbound]

[ She is the Queen of the Dead and Israel has a bloody history. She goes to a place rich with the history of gods, to guard what is within the musuem and find the fragments of the Dead Sea Scrolls -- and, more specifically, the War Scroll, if they are here. She thinks that they are, and she thinks that Belial will be here.

Only time will tell if she's correct or not. ]

[ LOCATION : ROME ]

[shams]

[10.45pm

They'd pulled off his legs, one at a time, big wim mma with a magnifying glass come to torture the spider. At least, that's how it felt when he'd had to fend off and finally surrender to the onslaught by the group of grigori waiting for him. They were too wise to his words, too learned in his stories.

Belial couldn't know that he'd defect, that he'd offer up information crucial to the end of the rule of the gods and the beginning of something new.

Anansi has been sent down the wrong path - the tablets aren't in Rome.

It's worse when he realizes that the trickster has been tricked and that his efforts have been for nothing other than to feel the ministrations of those fallen angels, hungry to punish in return for their own punishment, for years and year and y e a r s . . .



Anansi is left like a spider crushed under the sole of a purposeful heel, limbs broken and bloody and no good in his attempts to get up from behind the scooter he's hidden by. When it rains he'll be washed down the storm drains, and maybe that's a better fate for him than when Belial finally catches up with him. The anonymous backstreet, hidden in the depths of Rome, isn't the easiest to find and he accepts that, in his weakened state, it may be time for Death to find him.]




ooc note: sooo only one group of people is going to be able to find him, so can we please keep this in one thread! merci! it's a really anonymous street in rome so be prepared to explain exactly how you came across him! :3 ALSO, wim mma = sky children

[miscreantics]

[Hermes had started in Israel. Being in Israel had been a bad idea to begin with, what with everything going on. His inability to run as quickly or for as long as he would like, his paranoia about not being in Rome, his concern about the rest of the Twelve. But Persephone was going to Israel, Persephone had asked, and what Persephone wants, she gets. Besides, it's not entirely against his purpose, going with the queen of the Underworld to shepherd the dead, not against his purpose at all.

But it was wrong. Being in Israel was wrong, and it made Hermes antsy. It was for that reason that, not too long after arriving, Hermes skedaddled. He left Persephone and Cam with the wheelchair that he most needs, zooming off to Rome.

First off, find Anansi. If no luck there, find Apollo and Artemis. Where do we start the search for Anansi? Not the forum, not Vatican City, that would be too obvious. This is Anansi, so he zooms through the various backstreets that he memorized centuries ago. Hermes isn't sure he'll find Anansi, but when he does all thoughts of aggression and threatening are gone. No, he could feel the pull of the dying and injured from blocks away, telling him to be the shepherd again. He stops in front of his friend, stumbling as he only would in such a weakened state and dropping down to his knees and shoving the scooter out of the way.]

You look like shit.

[ LOCATION : KO CHANG, THAILAND ]

[acrimonies]

[It had taken her boys a little longer than she would have liked, tracking the man named Payton down, but with the trip across to Russia and onwards she couldn't really blame them. She'd joined with them, at that point, because waiting for a phone call from another continent before she left was only going to waste time.

She's very glad for it now, as she heads down the beach to the cabin Salem had found, both minders nearby in case anything as unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on your desire for spilled blood) as running was to occur.

Immaculate still in a close-cut white dress and ridiculously large sunhat, she pulls her sunglasses off with one hand and knocks against the doorframe with the other.]

Room service, honey.

[tome]

[The door opens violently and barely a second after her announcement. Payton stares up at her, looking bored and cranky, bright purple robe over winter clothes and completely messed up hair, most of it covered by sand. There's a bag of doritos in his hand. His mouth still full when he talks.]

I didn't order any sombreros.

MASS TEXT; Action for those in Cairo; trollin trollin trollin

[chaotically]

TO: [ all ]

You fucks need to solve this energy crisis
What the shit are you doing reading this?
I've got my thumbs on sweet spots
from California to Bombay
If self-service doesn't help,
if you don't think you're involved
guess again, fuckers
I'll feed those ponies their pink-slip
If I can't live here anymore
no one else will.

[ Set stretches in his throne and waits. Someone will have some ideas where to put him. Most will probably have something scathing to say, and that's almost better. He's bored. ]

[sunburning]

[ there are days, of course, when cassidy wonders what on earth his predecessor had been thinking, choosing a pale, freckled redhead to serve a god of egypt. oh, certainly, he'd settled in well enough, and he handled set as well as anyone could, but he definitely wasn't made for the desert. all the better that they traveled so much, then.

he gets the text the same way everyone else does, and takes a moment to read it as he waits for the tea to brew. set's clearly bored, if he's baiting the other gods during a time like this. then again, it's also a prime opportunity, so perhaps it's no wonder that the egyptian hadn't been able to resist.

honestly.

smiling a little to himself, he tucks his phone away again, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves halfway up his pale forearms. the cup and pot go on a tray, then, with other items, and he balances it on his hip as he pushes through the doors to approach the dark-haired god. ]

You're certainly in fine form today. [ the tray is settled neatly on a small table near set's hand, and he reaches up to push a few stray strands of dark red hair out of his face, brows arching. ] I'm certain your family will have some.. interesting responses.

text to fam | still in new york

[epicallyamused]

Newspapers are going crazy. This is a shit storm here. Doing what I can, but how do we even begin to react to this?

band of brothers meeting | cathedral of st. sophia

[apreparescuer]

[Uriel is, as promised, waiting in the gloriously old Cathedral of Saint Sophia, thankful that this 'Payton Penn' and his followers did nothing to harm its structure or holiness.

Lying on its aged floor, Uriel does his best to remain still, patient and confident in his brothers, occupying his mind with the architecture above.

They cannot remain here, nor will they. Uriel feels in the shudder of his charred wings the aching need to return to Jerusalem of Gold.

Their holy city needs them all.]

[attends]

[Raphael is usually a pillar of patience and good-natured suffering for the sake of slow and steady wins the race, but given the circumstances he feels at odds with everything he knows he should be.

Archangels aren't supposed to get tired so easily, aren't supposed to sweat into the collar of their crisply pressed shirt and definitely aren't supposed to feel nauseous at the slightest effort needed for international travel the conventionally human way. Air travel via an aeroplane, Raphael decides very quickly, isn't something he enjoys in the slightest.

Their journey to Russia is long and borders on painful in every way; he's too used to flying borne on his own two wings. They aren't capable of getting him anywhere else having been to find Gabriel in a panicked flurry of feathers and ending up collapsed in an alleyway near the Old Bailey. What strength he has left has his brother's name on it, instead. It's to be used only for Uriel, for his brother who had sounded so guilty. It hurts in a way Raphael has to push away more than once so he doesn't tire himself out to exhaustion in wanting to fix it all, the physical and emotional hurt.

When they finally arrive, the cathedral having housed his brother, protected him, he tears ahead and doesn't need his eyes to know where Uriel is lying. He can feel it, can feel the breaks and bruises that need his care.]

Uriel. [His usually steady, slow, rhythmic and smooth tones are broken up into painful syllables, trailing off because it hurts. Everything hurts. Sinking to his knees beside his brother he doesn't hesitate in brushing a hand over his forehead, thumb stroking a gentle line up from between his eyebrows to his hairline. His other hand, fingers already outstretched, presses over the other angel's heart, palm flat and sure despite the cold sweat that has gripped him.]

AFTER THE EVENT IS OVER AND ALLA THIS CLEARS UP | open

[aevi]

[This day marks a new beginning. After the pantheons have sought and fought to keep their power, one imagines that a new time of caution and humility will follow. And it shouldn't be any surprise that the god of beginnings and transitions has made a return after a very long, very silent absence -- then again, maybe it is.

He's going to meet with some old, familiar faces. Be it in their residence of choice, their office, their place of solace... But he might just end up running into one of their minders instead.]

[pall]

[ Old, familiar faces, you say? Well there are few as old as she is — though perhaps her face is less familiar these days. When you have supposedly existed since from the very beginning, it pays to change things up from time to time. Of all people, of all gods, Janus should understand that.

Her penthouse is located at the very top of her apartment building and the glass encased living room opens up onto a swimming pool — half inside and half out. At night time she often floats in the gently lapping water, staring up into the night sky — her domain. When Janus comes to call, she swims to the lip of the pool, her long black hair spread out around her in the water like coils of ink. ]

Now there's a familiar face, [ she says.

Badum ching. ]

MASS EMAIL

[(Anonymous)]

TO: [ pantheon : all ]

your regular mythological internet service has been restored.

don't worry about thanking me.



[OOC: 90% of deleted webpages are back, with wikipedia the most complete. There is one noticeable change: the Belial wikipedia article contains only pictures of Dr. Frank-N-Furter, and cannot be edited.]

@ OLYMPICORPS

[miscreantics]

[They had a board meeting. Why they hadn't had a "board" meeting while shit was hitting the fan, Hermes hasn't the foggiest (okay he has a series of ideas, but none that he wants to say out loud or even think around certain deities thank you). Now though, this is a clean up meeting, a return to normality.

A meeting in which one messenger has to keep his mouth shut under pain of severe injury, as much as he has a thousand things to say about security and communications.

He almost does speak up, until a series of resounding beeps go off throughout the room, and everyone, in what is more or less unison, turns to their laptops or phones. Hermes to his, of course, to read the email. He smiles, and of course he has to check Wikipedia.

And there it is. Belial. Dr. Frank-N-Furter. Hermes can't help but laugh out loud and, in that moment that is so very up his alley, stand up on the table and applaud.]

Oh Captain, my Captain, this is why tricksters do it best.