Tech Support: Lamentation Davenport's Prelude 1

A series played using Cryomnesis. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

Lamentation Davenport's Prelude

Sirens wail aboard the Technocratic Union vessel Imperator as onboard intelligences attempt to wake the crew. Lights flicker into life in the sleep pods and Lamentation Davenport gasps awake.

Calibration: Primal Fear

Shadow: The Emperor

Lamentation's primal fear is two-fold; first she has a need to belong to something greater than herself, but she also fears having her sense of self subsumed by the expectation of mindless obedience.

Act 1: Pentacles, The Mission

Scene 1: 10 of Pentacles & 18. The Moon

She wrenches the breathing tube from her throat in one motion and tears the sensors from her skin as the pale blue liquid swiftly drains from the tube she was suspended in. Her fingers, still slick with the fluid, grip the emergency door release lever and she pulls it hard. A hiss signals the breach of the seal, a swift kick sends the door arcing upward on its hinges. Lamentation hauls herself from the sleep pod, gripping the edge to steady herself as the cabin around her lurches and sways. The wail of the alarms around her is near deafening but beyond it she can her the sounds of the ship in distress. She curses under her breath, the ship wasn't meant for voyages this far into deep space so its systems were operating under intense strain. The first three ships sent had all been lost to system failures of one kind or another. The Praefectus in partcular came to mind, their localised reality fields had failed, all crew were lost to nameless, shapeless things that swam here. Lamentation chides herself for inviting such superstitions aboard, she reaches for her visor and asssesses the immediate priorties. On the heads-up display the ship's agent informs her that the medical systems and the primary mission module are both in neeed of repairs. She grabs the toolkit from the locker above her pod and gets to work on the medical unit.

Scene 2: Knight of Pentacles  & 13. Death

Seeing the caduceus symbol triggers a flash of memory, she remembers sitting at the bedside of Professor Cook as he lay in hospice. He'd been the one to spot her potential as she was in the process of being expelled from MIT, he'd offered her a chance to attend "an advanced technical college for unconventional thinkers," he'd been there when she graduated with honours. In a way, losing him felt like the severance of the last tie holding her back on Earth. Set adrift she had volunteered for the mission out of a need to outrun her feelings, the prestige of establishing the first stable deep space station was mere set dressing. She feels the emotions building up and delivers a sharp blow to the medical unit's core processor. It hums and sputters back into operation, the lights are wavering but she knows that further such repairs will only damage the unit. She methodically reseals the unit casing, counting each turn of each screw until her eyes stop burning.

Scene 3: King of Pentacles  & 0. The Fool

She hauls herself across the cabin to the mission module, the black box that silently absorbed the knowledge of everything that happened on the ship and in its immediate surroundings. She examines the quantum relay to confirm that it is still pairing with the mainframe back on Earth. It's damaged so it's unclear if the data will be preserved even if the ship is lost. Lamentation curses once more, she has to get it back online or else the expedition will have been for nothing. She thinks that this is emblematic of what the Union has become, so centralised that anything outside of central command is considered expendable. She looks back on the naive young recruit she used to be and grimaces. Things were simpler back then, she followed orders and was given the autonomy to pursue her own research. Now she felt the tightening of the leash with each passing day and her immediate goal was the preservation of the ship's data over the ship's crew.

Scene 4: 9 of Pentacles  & 5. The Hierophant

Lamentation examines the delicate circuitry of the module, the magnification of her visor automatically increasing to afford her a more detailed view. She recalls the training drilled into her in preparation for the mission, this is the most valuable system on the ship and every crewmember knows it as well as their own minds, perhaps better. She realises that the broadcast transmitter is fried and there isn't enough time to install a new one, but the onboard record is intact so that is some small mercy. As she considers her options she thinks about her current situation, so far from the Union and utterly isolated from them. Perhaps this is what she wanted, the distance to assess her perspective and take stock. She realises that the emergency phase shift will still work, if the ship is destroyed the black box will dematerialise and survive as a subspace beacon. If the ship cannot be saved, it will be some time before the Union regains knowledge of what is happening here.

Repair Progress

First Aid Module: Partially Repaired.

Primary Mission Module: Partially Repaired.

Character Sheet : Sasha Wolfe

This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

Sasha Wolfe

Concept: Cottagecore Hedgewitch

Virtue: Hopeful

Vice: Fickle

Aspirations: Learn a new arcanum. Find a new place to live. Serve the city through acts of magic and kindess

They have big and well-inentioned dreams of doing good in the city they love, however, they also have shorter term needs (housing) and have specialised early meaning they have gaps in their magical ability. These competing drives are further compounded by their fickle nature which pulls them back and forth between goals.

Attributes

Mental: Intelligence 2, Wits 3, Resolve 3

Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2

Social: Presence 2, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

Their advantages are being quick thinking and resilient, mentally and emotionally. They've got some kind of flexibility training in their background, which could be a daily exercise routine maybe.

Skills

Mental: Academics 2, Crafts 1 (Painting), Occult 2 (Folklore), Science 2

Physical: Athletics 2, Larceny 1, Stealth 1

Social: Empathy 3 (Calming), Expression 3, Socialise 2, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 1

They have a decent foundation of education and have supplemented this with an interest in folklore and various attempts at arts and crafts. They run, that exercise theme returning, and maybe they've done some shoplifting in the past?

Mage Template

Path: Obrimos

Order: Nameless

Nimbus: Long-term (power fluctuations, surges, and brownouts), Immediate (the sublime harmony of providence), Signature (sanctified and calibrated)

Dedicated Magical Tool: Compass

Arcana: Ruling (Forces and Prime), Inferior (Death). Fate 2, Prime 3, Time 1

Rotes: Interconnections (Fate 1), Perfect Timing (Time 1), Sacred Geometry (Prime 1)

Gnosis: 1

Mana: 10

Obsession: Contact the genius loci of Requiem Hold

Praxes: As Above, So Below (Prime 2)

Their magic is subtle and about bringing the fallen world into harmony with the supernal. They emphasise Prime over Forces, which is maybe reflected in their nimbus. An Obrimos with no Forces has to have some kind of outlet, and in Sasha's case it's their long-term nimbus. Their immediate and signature nimbuses, the ones that reflect the actual effects they perform, are more in keeping with their Prime focus.

I wonder if in some sense, they could have awakened to Arcadia under slightly different circumstances?

Their rotes and praxis include sensing connections between things in the city, between the fallen world and the supernal, and using these connections to subtly enhance their performance. 

Merits

Contacts (1; Local Artists), Language (1; Uveti). Mana Sensitivity (1), Occultation (3), Resources (1), True Friend (3; Endel)

They know local artists of all stripes, have a modest income from their various creative works, and have a ride or die bitch in the form of Endel. Their attunement to the harmony of the supernal shows both as a sensitivity to hallows and as a tendency to blend into the world around them. Uveti is a fictional language that I'm considering as a potential indigenous language spoken in the area.

Advantages

Size: 5

Health: 7

Speed: 5

Willpower: 6

Wisdom: 7

Initiative: 6

Defence: 3a

Character Sheet: Billy Salt

 This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

Billy Salt

Nature: Autocrat

Demeanour: Conniver

Essence: Dynamic

Tradition: Cult of Ecstasy (Barabbus)

Salt's primary motivation is control though he's not keen to show his hand, he prefers to convince others that his manipulations are their own ideas. His avatar drives him to create and innovate, and he interprets this by casting himself in the role of architect and conductor. He sees the world around him as clay to be shaped to his vision. His was initiated into his tradition through the Klubwerks faction; he was club kid who sought transcendence through music and drugs, caring little for the deeper philosophy. He achieved his awakening on the dance floor, shattering his mind and perceiving that which lies beneath the skin of reality. 

Focus

Paradigm: A World of Gods and Monsters / Might Makes Right

Practices: Art of Desire, Dominion, and Maleficia. 

Instruments: Art, Drugs and poisons, Eye contact, Sex, Symbols, Thought forms, and Voice.

He believes that reality is the outcome of a delicate balance of treaties and stalemates between cosmic powers that operate on scales vaster than humans can comprehend. Magick can be seen as uncovering details of who is responsible for a specific aspect of reality and then petitioning them. Since these powers are ruling by fiat, it stands to reason that the awakened can also direct reality to conform to their will. He speculates that the avatar is a fragment of these greater powers or perhaps a larval form.

Attributes

Strength 3, Dexterity 2, Stamina 3

Charisma 3, Manipulation 4, Appearance 3

Perception 2, Intelligence 2, Wits 2

He maintains a good degree of physical fitness, favouring power and endurance over flexibility (perhaps there's a metaphor there...). His looks and personality are appealing, and he uses them as cover for his machinations.

Talents

Alertness 3, Awareness 3, Intimidation 2, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 3

He has cultivated a high degree of attention to both the mundane and magickal worlds. Threats and lies are tools that he wields with natiral ease.

Skills

Etiquette 1, Meditation 2, Stealth 2

He practices daily meditation as a form of discipline. He values being able to make a good impression and a discreet exit.

Knowledges

Cosmology 3, Investigation 3, Occult 3

Since his awakening he has obsessively studied to make up for his lack of formal magickal training.

Spheres

Desire 2, Dominance 2, Oaths 2

For Salt magick is about hierarchical power and the agreements that enforce it, both formal and instinctual.

Advantages

Arcane 2, Dream 1, Mentor 1, Resources 3

His capability of discretion extends into a psychic invisibility that covers his tracks. He also has limited psychic insights that he uses carefully to inform his plans. He has recently made a pact with an infernal entity which has offered him limited tuition and power.

Arete 2

Willpower 5

Foster Gates 1

A series played using the 1st edition of the Chronicles of Darkness and various rules options from Mirrors; specifically Three Alone, Three Plus, and Without Merit. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

Foster Gates

A reclusive historian specialising in the history of science. He harbours a secret interest in alchemy and ceremonial magic, going so far as to experiment with some of the techniques he's studied. So he's had no positive results, but he's finding himself drawn deeper into his extra-curricular studies. Acquiring some of the more obscure ingredients of his craft have required him to make black market connections. His fence has hinted at being able to put him in contact with someone who has specialist knowledge of the occult.

Virtue: Prudence (he's capable of being incredibly patient and capable of putting long-term goals first)

Vice: Sloth (he's also very reluctant to pursue short-term goals and tends to put them off)

Mental

Attribute: Exceptional (3)

Skill: Exceptional (3)

Specialties: Academics, Occult

Physical

Attribute: Average (2)

Skill: Average (1)

Specialties: Athletics

Social

Attribute: Superior (3)

Skill: Average (1)

Specialties: Empathy, Expression, Streetwise

Prelude - Meeting an infernalist

Foster Gates hurls himself down the tiled stairway of the Fortune Park station, his paisley tie flapping behind him like a pennant, his leather satchel clutched tightly against his chest. The last stragglers of students leaving the university campus are slowly making their way home, tired from a day of studying and perhaps part-time work on campus, they barely notice Foster as he runs by. The doors of the sleek monorail carriage are hissing shut, the chiding chimes sounding...

Physical (2) + Physical (1) + Athletics (1) : 6, 6, 7, 9 [one success]

Foster barely makes it through before they seal with a soft suction. He takes a moment to tug his tie back into place, run a hand through his messy blond hair to settle it, and then surveys the carriage. His fellow travellers are mostly commuters, either on their way home or heading in for their shifts. Foster shuffles down the carriage to an empty seat, one with plenty of distance from other people. Slumping down, he gently lowers his satchel onto the seat beside him and notices that his fingers are nervously fiddling with the buckles.

He glances about furtively, like he's guarding something illicit in their, before slowly teasing the first buckle open, his fingers trembling with anticipation. With one open, he's able to gently lift the front flap to peer inside, the fluorescent light of the carriage casting the contents in gloam. He carefully stretches two fingers inside and softly caresses the manuscipt's edge, feeling the resistance of the thick paper. This is his magnum opus, the most complete composite of translations of the Vir Stellas anyone has ever seen. Foster has been painstakingly assembling this manuscript for close to a decade, comparing partial translations and sifting through apocryphal pages, looking for the most accurate sources to build his work.

Now that it is complete, he hopes that his contact will have as much interest in it as Foster. If so, this could be a valuable bargaining chip. His fence, Dorcas, has alluded to the contact's extensive knowledge of occult practices, hinting that this isn't just another theoretician but an actual practitioner. Foster's eyes close for a moment as he imagines the potential lore he could trade for, perhaps the contact would even be willing to offer training of some kind.

Foster's eyes snap open as the monorail pulls into Reflecia station, he'd completely lost track of how many stops they'd been through and barely disembarks before the doors shut again. The station platform is quiet and Foster takes a moment to enjoy the cool air. Fumbling in his pocket, he withdraws the once pristine, now creased and dog-eared business card to check the address he's heading for. The card reads: "William Salt, Private Investigator. 7d Old Lane, Reflecia, Requiem Hold." Foster checks about for a local map and spots one displayed on the wall near the exit.

Mental (3) + Mental (2) + Match (1) : 1, 1, 2, 8, 9, 10 [1 success]

Scrutinising the map for a while, Foster feels confident that he can find his way from the station to the contact's flat (and presumably back again). He takes a deep breath, straighten's his tie, and climbs the stairs down to street level. The streets of Reflecia are brighter than Fortune Park, fewer green spaces and more cafes and cultural spaces. The buildings are older, taller, and more closely packed, Foster dimly recalls that this used to be an industrial area before the gentrification rolled over it like a wave. He weaves through the growing crowds spilling out of bars or gathering at the entrances to theatres, eventually moving out of the commercial area around the station and into the greater residential mass of Reflecia.

The noise level drops off sharply as the converted industrial buildings muffle the sound and reduce it to a constant murmur that grows fainter as Foster strides down the street, confident that he's on course. The narrow street curves slightly as it follows the wavering footprints the tall, converted warehouses that line it. Doorways have been expanded and filled with tinted glass entrances to presumably equally renovated foyers. Windows above street level are concealed with a range of expensive curtain and blinds, the occasional window box of immaculately cultivated flowers breaking the otherwise monotonous facades.

Midway crossing a side street, Foster pauses and realises this is his turning. The sign reading "Old Lane" looks like its been there from before the gentrification, unlike the others, so Foster almost missed it. The lane looks like maybe it was missed when money was being thrown about here, or perhaps it was very expensively preserved and curated. There are few doorways that Foster can see, guaging it he guesses number seven will be at the far end.

Foster eventually reaches the door, a coat of purple paint flakes at its edges and a brass numeral 7 has been recently screwed in place, slightly off-centre. Foster searches in vain for an intercom or doorbell and is reaching out to knock on the door when it swings open on well-oiled hinges. A short man with close-cropped hair and beard stands in the doorway, his body tensed like a coiled spring, his face a blank mask.

Social (3) + Social (1) + Empathy (1) - Subterfuge (3) : 7, 8 [1 success]

Foster scans the man's face with little effect, there's an intensity behind his eyes that gives Foster some pause, but the man is broadly unreadable on first impression. The man steps back and one arm sweeps languidly in a silent gesture of invitation. Foster, understanding the need for caution, enters, his grip on the strap of his satchel. He profers his host the weathered business card with a hand that trembles faintly. Without breaking eye contact, the man's broad hand grips the card, his fingertips brush against Foster's. Foster looks away, feeling the man's eyes continue to bore into him.

Clearing his throat, Foster introduces himself and explains that his fence referred him. The man gives no response and Foster finds himself filling the silence, explaining the relationship with Dorcas Stedman and the help she's provided during his studies. He is on the verge of mentioning the Vir Stellas when...

Mental (3) + Mental (3) + Match (1) : 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 8, 9 [2 successes]

...he jerks his hand free of the card and abruptly stops talking. The man smirks, turns, and walks sofly up the interior steps to the apartments above. His bare feet are practically silent on the metal stairs, the rustle of his linen trousers sussurating gently. Foster, feeling somewhat flustered, closes the street door and follows the man to the third floor where a heavy door stands open. The aroma of leather and sandalwood drifts from the doorway, growing in intensity as Foster steps into the apartment. The interior is warm and softly lit from an unknown source, the warmth and scent wrapping around him like an embrace.

The apartment is sparsely decorated with expensive furnishings, the living room has a pair of low leather sofas facing each other across the room and little else beside bare walls. The man sits in the centre of the lefthand sofa, leaning back, arms wide across the backrest, legs wide. Foster hesitates for an invitation to sit and when it never comes he awkwardly sits on the opposite sofa; bolt upright, knees together, both hands holding the satchel on his lap. After a charged silence, in which Foster feels the man's gaze scrutinising his soul, Foster clears his throat. "Ms. Stedman, our... mutual acquaintance, speaks highly of you and recommended your knowledge of... specific practices." Silence. Foster's fingers anxiously fiddle with the buckle on his satchel. "So I was hoping you might be able to provide some context to fill in the gaps in my research. You see, I've been attempting to learn more about a text-"

"The Vir Stellas." The man's voice is like a scalpel cutting through a velvet screen. "You want to meet Him? The Man from the Stars? I wouldn't recommend it, not for you, not yet." He leans forwards towards and places a hand over Foster's to still the fiddling. His hand is cool and firm, like marble, and Foster's eyes follow up the sinewed forearm to where the suggestive hint of a strong bicep vanishes beneath the black silk sleeve of the man's shirt. "There are other things I can show you." His eyes dart from Foster to the slightly ajar door across the room, and back to Foster. That slight smirk flickering across his lips once more.

Billy Salt is using the art of desire through environment, gestures and voice to slowly build attraction. This is a Coincidental effect using the sphere of Desire.

Arete (2) v. Diff. 6 : 3, 5 [0 successes]

Foster slowly, carefully, slides his hand away and attempts a consoling smile. "That's very... kind of you Mr Salt. However I'd really like focus on the... Vir Stellas for the time being." He shifts uncomfortably, hearing the creak of the leather, and begins to stand. "Wait, Mr Gates" the words are spoken softly but carry heavy weight.

Social (3) + Social (1) - Intimidation (2) : 3, 10 [1 success]

Foster's knees almost betray him but he manages to stand. Billy Salt leans back, unperturbed, and affects a look of amusement. He sighs and runs a hand back over his shaved head, before standing in one fluid motion. He stands facing Foster for a tense moment, before moving behind the leather couch and retrieving a cloth-wrapped bundle. Foster doesn't recall seeing anything behind either couch when he entered the room, but before he can complete the thought, Billy Salt is holding the bundle out in one hand, suggestively lifting a fold of cloth with the other. Foster sees a book inside, but not clearly enough to read a title. Salt is clearly waiting for Foster to reach out and join him in the undressing, Foster's hand shakes a little as it touches the cloth, a rough sackcloth that feels coarse to the touch, and raises it. The book is bound in dark stained leather with no title or insignia on the cover or spine. "That's it" Salt's voice is a hoarse whisper that feels as coarse as the cloth, "you can touch it."

Foster cradles the book in both hands and lifts it from Salt's arms, it feels heavier than its size would imply. With a flourish, Salt drapes the cloth over the back the couch and moves to stand beside and behind Foster, seemingly to watch over his shoulder. He occupies only the periphery of Foster's field of vision but dominates his awareness. Foster struggles to keep his full attention on the book...

Mental (3) + Mental (3) + Match (1) : 4, 5, 7, 7, 10, 10, 10 [3 successes]

...until he opens the cover and reads the title page, which claims that this is an copy of the own known printing of Septem Orationes ad Tenebras, a collection of hymns from a heretical off-shoot of the Anglican Church. Their author was a nameless nun who receieved a series of visions from what she claimed was an angel who predated the Word. 

Salt repeats the previous effect, this time focusing on the tome and allure of knowledge rather than sensual/sexual appeal.

Arete (2) v. Diff. 6 : 6, 6 [2 successes]

Foster feels his curiosity stir as his fingers poise ready to turn the pages, he yearns to have the privacy to fully explore the text. Salt, sensing his successful influence, softly withdraws and crosses the room to a discreet drinks cabinet. After pouring two glasses of brandy, with practised ease he dispenses an additional measure to one glass from a smoky glass vial...

Mental (3) + Mental (3) + Match (1) - Distraction (2) : 1, 3, 4, 6, 9 [1 success]

...which Foster notices. He is about to speak up when Salt, seeing Foster's reaction, seamlessly pours a measure into the second glass too. Arching an eyebrow he profers the glasses to Foster, allowing him to take his pick of which to drink. Foster brings the tome to his chest with one arm, he isn't ready to relinquish it yet, and takes the lefthand glass. Salt raises his "To knowledge, let none forbid us from seeking it." They down their drinks in one and Salt takes the glasses back to the cabinet, focusing on the taste in his mouth.

Salt uses the drug to bind Foster to him. This is a Coincidental effect using the sphere of Dominance.

Arete (2) v. Diff 6 : 3, 9 [1 success]

Foster feels the burn of the hard liquor as it flows down and fills his chest with a comforting glow. He appraises Salt thoughtfully, feeling a sense of gratitude to him for providing him with this fascinating text and for the potential aid he could provide with the Vir Stellas. Salt returns to his seat and his former pose, leaning back with arms and legs wide, slouched gracefully. Somewhere between the cabinet and the sofa two buttons on his shirt have opened, the spread of his arms pulls the fabric enough to expose the tight muscles of his chest. Foster, his head swimming a little, clumsily sits opposite, feeling flushed. An impulse is rising and almost without fully realising he's doing it, he sets the Septem Orationes down beside him and unbuckles his satchel. It takes a couple of attempts, the drink must have been stronger than he realised, he thinks. He carefully slides the manuscript free and takes a moment to consider the gravity of what he is about to do.

"Mr Salt-" he begins. "Please, Billy" Salt purrs. "Billy," Foster stammers "I want to thank you for sharing this book... and the drink of course... so I was wondering... assuming you're interested..." Salt tilts his head and bites his lower lip as heat rises to Foster's face. "Ah... that is if you wanted to read it... I'd love your thoughts on my compilation of Vir Stellas fragments." He breaks off before he starts rambling, silently holding the manuscript out before him, trying to hold it steady. Salt slowly eases himself forward, his core and chest visible tightening beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. He reaches out and takes the manuscript in both hands, allowing his fingertips to brush against Foster's. He catches and holds Foster's gaze, examining his soul to assess the effectiveness of his previous castings.

Salt uses eye contact to sense the power dynamics between them. This is a Coincidental effect using the sphere of Dominance.

Arete (2) v. Diff. 6 : 2, 6 [1 success]

Foster is well and truly captivated. He has a growing fascination with both the tome and Salt, and is amenable to future manipulations. Pleased with his progress and keen to keep Foster wanting more, he places the manuscript to one side with feigned casualness and clears his throat. "Well, we've certainly had a fruitful first meeting, Mr Gates." On cue Foster quickly interjects "Please, call me Foster," eliciting a wide grin from Salt. "Foster," he lingers on each syllable, "this has been a pleasure and I hope one that we can share again. It seems we both have some bedtime reading to keep us occupied, but I'd love to have you over again."

Foster, blushing and captivated, agrees as he wraps the tome in its cloth and stows it in his satchel. As unexpectedly thrilling as this evening has been, the urge to study this new text is nagging at his mind. The pleasantries of goodbyes take place, Salt providing a new, unsullied, business card with his private contact details written across the back in flowing script. In a whirlwind of well-mannered words and gestures, Foster is escorted back to the street and finds himself in a moment of silence. The street is empty and Foster takes the time to reflect. This has been an interesting evening, as he sets out to the station he considers the prospects of how this tome, and his connection to Salt, will play out.

---

I think that stopping short of revealing the Vir Stellas on first meeting Billy in the doorway meets his virtue of Prudence; Foster successfully put his longer-term goals of protecting his work ahead of the short-term benefits of impression the mysterious stranger.

---

Yes, Billy Salt is using Mage the Ascension rules and some non-standard spheres :) I'll post his character sheet tomorrow.