The secret basement of the 'Society for the Uplifting of Humanity' is the Hunter meeting place. It has records of centuries of Hunts. Information on the various creatures that have threatened the town. An armory of the exotic and ballistic. And a well-stocked liquor cabinet. It is the latter that Brigitte is making use of as she sits at one of the plush leather chairs with her feet on the cold iron meeting table; the room does have a Bondian villain look.
Winston Carmichael, the caretaker, is also there and he just tuts and then glares at her feet for a moment. It's enough for Brigitte to remove them and sit up straight. "Welcome to our newcomers" he announces to those present. "If anyone would like a drink...or a coffee...or some baked goods? My name is Winston Carmichael and welcome to Fallcoast."
"Winston. Hey there. Brigitte." Aislinn is here first somehow. She seems to manage that when there is alcohol about lately. She's already acquiring a drink for herself and taking a seat at the meeting table. The redheaded woman relaxes back against the chair and breathes a soft, content yawn with the glass held in her gloved right hand. "How is everyone tonight?" The woman asks in a quiet tone that speaks of familiarity. This is a safe place and she has been here numerous times. That's easy enough to infer.
She might not look it, but sticking her nose in the archives here is something that Katarina does when she gets a chance to. Carrying a small backpack, a laptop, and a biiiig cup of coffee, she passes by the door to the space before backing up and heading inside to claim a spot at the table. "Hey." Yes, her mohawk is at full, five inch attention. Merely average for an American, but so very vividly colored!
Ysa enters from above, and as entrances go, it's a bit subdued. No bursting in through the door, nothing flashy in her appearance. She's a touch short, 5'4" or so, dark-haired, and dressed simply, her long hair pulled into a ponytail, jeans, tanktop and leather jacket worn. Really, the most noteworthy thing about her is the jagged scar that runs diagonally from one temple to her chin, just missing her eye, marring her features. She's got a thermal coffee mug held in one hand, as she makes her way over to a chair and settles, getting comfortable before the caretaker speaks up. There is a blink, a glance around, then she seems to realize he's possibly talking about her, and she nods. "Thanks."
Alvis went to check on Kat but she wasn't where he left her. With some questions, he tracked her down at the lodge. He hoped. The only things visible when he comes in is his face and neck. The rest covered. Gloves comes off followed by his knit cap that lets the dark brown unkempt scruff of shoulder length hair out. He rungs his fingers through it a few times as he walks towards the bar and ordered a double…no two doubles of bourbon. Might as well have a drink while here. He motions towards the mohawked one with his hat and gloves. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Winston looks over the new arrivals with a benign smile as they find their places and chat among themselves. "Umm...if you would like to introduce yourselves?" he suggests before shrugging, "But no pressure. I'll just put the kettle on."
Brigitte is downing the contents of a bottle of beer...nothing unusual there. "You okay, Aislinn?" she asks the other alcoholic in the room. "I'm fine. Had a run in with some Leechers and found a dogfish on an island off shore recently. As in...a dog that was more fish than dog. I dunno. Cheiron has it and sent some bits to Winston." A momentary look or surprise at Katarina and her mohawk but then she just shrugs it away. So many new people as Ysa and Alvis also show. Brigitte clears her throat. "I'll start? Brigitte Chasseur. Union." A pause. "That was easy."
Aislinn is hard to judge while she is seated but the woman is clearly rather short. Around five feet at a guess, with a casual body language and serious attitude which suggests she's got the sort of world weary personality that would easily explain how she was the first to reach the booze after Brigitte. The bourbon is going fast if Alvis also takes two fingers of the booze.
"Yeah... I'm okay. I already got over the big scare, the rest of this is easy." On some level, Ais seems to mean this as she responds to Brigitte. The redheaded woman knocks back the rest of her glass and then rises to her feet. "I'll go next then. Aislinn Joshi. ...Task Force Valkyrie." That actually sounds like it was hard for her. "I don't usually say that out loud, so you didn't hear it from me." Spook humour. Probably only makes sense to her to judge by the wry smile.
Ysa glances around, looking over the assorted people. The leather jacket is shrugged off, revealing three tattoos, though she likely has more. A circle of thorns surrounds her right wrist, seeming to dig into the skin, a shotgun and pistol form the shape of the cross on her upper right arm, and some sort of family crest, its details looking deliberately blurred, is on her left forearm. "Ysa Duedo. Knights of St. Adrian." That.. may not be a surprise. As she speaks further, hints of a faded Spanish accent can be heard in her voice. "New in town," she admits, waving her large coffee mug around before taking a long drink from it.
Alvis take the entire bottle if they let him. Something to help dull all the horrible things he's seen. He looks at people as the introduce himself. Nope, does not look like he really wants to. But others are. Even the spook. "Right..." A pause. "Alvis." Another pause as he considers giving only that but continues. "Nesbith. Lucifuge. Freak of God damned nature." He glances up as he says the last bit. "Fucking thanks." He looks at Aislin and hold up what looks like a peace sign. "Go team Venture." Is said wryly before downing the first double.
"God Damned is about right, isn't it, Alvis?" Kat says with a crooked smirk as she settles her computer and coffee. Her voice is rough sounding and she's not taking off her scarf. "Katarina Lucciano. Lucifuge, great great great granddaughter of someone Lucifer fucked." In more ways than one, of course.
"Wouldn't that be a freak of 'supernature'?" Brigitte winks to Alvis - and includes Katarina in that - before downing some more of her beer. And she did at least snort at Aislinn's joke. "Saint Adrian?" The Frenchwoman looks over Ysa for a moment. "Have you met Jolene? She's one of yours. Good woman...but I guess you all have to be good women to get that job. Not that I'm saying that is /bad/...just don't bother to leave the recruitment pamphlets in my mailbox."
Winston returns with a tray of tea and coffee refills and places it on the table in reach of everyone. There are also biscuits/cookies! "Recently the Society sent Aislinn and Katarina to crack a computer at the Concord Management building. Apparently our information was far from correct. No computer...and something worse. Would either of you care to tell the others about it?"
Ysa's gaze rests upon first Alvis, then Katarina, studying each for a long moment. Maybe it's got something to do with being a knight, maybe it's something else. in the end, she glances down at the oddly blurred crest on her left arm, then just nods. "I'd say I look forward to working with you all, but what we do is not always so much fun. I'll just say I'll be glad to have you at my back, and be at yours, instead." Not that she looks glad.. or at least, she isn't smiling. She fairly swoops down on the coffee, though, like everyone else has swept onto the booze, opening her mug and refilling it at once. "Only met some rich fellow from Ashwood, so far. Have to look Jolene up. And I don't recruit."
A number of Hunters sit around the table of the secret meeting room under the Society building. Most of them are drinking stuff that is stronger than coffee. They have made their introductions but don't let that stop any new arrivals from doing so. Winston has made coffee and tea, and the liquor cabinet is unlocked, and has just asked Aislinn and/or Katarina to relate their recent adventures in the Concord Management offices.
"I suppose I can do that," Aislinn responds. She finally straightens, setting her mostly empty glass of bourbon down on the table with a sharp thunk. "When we entered the office building we found that the sixth floor, our target destination, was a long corridor painted black. At the far end was an old iron door. Just a collections of poles really with an equally old lock. On the other side was some kind of chamber - and darkness.
"It was the kind of darkness that doesn't exist in the real world. The kind that eats at you. It was so cold everything started to become covered in layers of frost where it had been room temperature moments before. Light couldn't penetrate it. Not flashlights or laser sights... Not even enough light for nightvision goggles. In that darkness was a corpse. It looked like a body, but it was some kind of demonic thing or maybe possessed. We ran for the hallway when we heard it coming and then shot it until it was torn apart.
"And even then it kept calling out to us. That they know who we are, that they're coming for us. And that we're going to die. I don't know what's wrong with that place but it's pretty messed up."
The weather outside verges on the frightful, and while the warmth in here might not be delightful it *is* sufficient for one of those new arrivals to already be unfastening her overcoat and doffing her hat as she descends the stairs into the Society's secret basement. Aurore looks amiably curious, and rather evidently pleasantly surprised to find a fair-sized gathering already in place. Winston in particular receives a warmly grateful smile, though everyone receives a wave by way of greeting, as she moves to snare herself some coffee.
Alvis raises his glass towards Bridgett and laughs. "Sure. That works." He looks her over slowly, it's more measuring her up than checking her out. He tips the glass back and downs the second double in a few minutes then orders another. His attention focuses in Aislinn as she gives the report. He taps a finger on the side of his glass repetitively. "Well...fuck. Guess I came home just in time." He pulls a crappy smart...ish phone from his pocket and gets a map of the city up on it. "Where exactly is that at?"
"Before the new moon was the timeframe." Kat rasps, taking a drink of her coffee and opening the laptop. Research and reading is a hobby favored by the mohawked Lucifuge. Checking the time, she glances towards the door and then taps her password into the old laptop. Mmm, pawn shop special - twenty bucks and a blowjob. A thumb drive is retrieved from her coat and she slots it into a port once the thing boots up.
Ysa does seem to have at least left some coffee in the pot for others. -Some-. Someone really must like their joe. She cradles the thermal mug, taking another long drink as she listens intently to the story, brows furrowing in an uneven way, given that the scar pulls one up a bit more than the other. "Nasty," is the newcomer's succinct reply. Though after a moment, she adds, "What do we know about the corporation?"
Smokers. They're a dying breed.
No, not that trendy 'vaping' crowd that seems to have forcibly inherited the mantle; but real, honest to god, stick-a-burning-leaf-in-your-mouth smokers. And Gibson? Gibbs is a prime example of this rare breed. Yes, he'll smoke indoors until someone either tells him not to, or until he keels over from lung cancer - whichever comes or, alternately, whichever hits him upside the head first. But whatever the case might be, the blonde young man - looking for all the world that he just rolled out of bed, half burned cigarette already clamped in his jaws, slid into his shoes and walked through the front door - makes his way into the area with a somewhat lazy, long-legged lope.
Admittedly, a somewhat _late_, somewhat lazy long-legged lope; but who's really keeping track of such things?
Ahem. Anyway. He does make it in just in time to catch the full rundown; a fact that does cause a pause and a sudden refocusing of his attention - first to the speaker, then followed through into a drag around the room proper from corner to corner. Ah, Kitten. Taking another drag from the cigarette, he finally falls back into step - this time, keeping mostly to the periphery as he sidles around to the red-mohawked girl.
Aurore slows to a halt, half-shaven head cocking as she listens intently. She continues sorting out her drink, but it's all too evident that she's stumbled into a rather serious discussion...
"We know they ship - something," Aislinn states helpfully. "It's a technological R&D firm that is a cover for, well, whatever this is. I realise that probably isn't as helpful as it could be but then I didn't have a lot of time to look around with the demon chasing us and all." Her tone is dry but sincere as she continues. Ais has a habit of speaking somewhat circumscribedly using her hands, clear gestures outlining the import and 'direction' of words. She also recites the address for the building in question off the top of her head without skipping a beat. "The real question is what they are doing there and why. And how we can ensure that next time we put that thing down it stays down. If it possesses something bigger it might be a real problem."
"If I had a dime for every creep that says I was going to die" muses Brigitte, "I'd have one dollar and thirty cents." Her brow furrows. "Thirteen? That can't be good. Glad you got out of there, Aislinn...Katarina." A wave to Aurore before Brigitte continues. "That's the place in the Technology Park I cut the power too, right? New company but Winston will know more." She yields the floor.
"I wish I did" sighs Winston after he also offers a wave to the arriving Aurore. "We don't have any record of them other than the barest material they put on the business registry. This means either they have a lot of money to hide themselves with or they're really bad with their admin work. One name we /do/ have is Christoph Partridge. He is registered as the owner of the business and, as you guessed, very little on this man as well. We've tried to get someone inside to work in the offices but they're entire workforce seems to have been hired outside of Fallcoast and well before they got here." He nods to Aislinn's addendum. "Assuming that is the only one. I believe the floor of the chamber was inscribed with funerary rituals?"
Aislinn adds quickly, "That's right. Southern Mesopotamia - Sumerian. Which... Explains the demons, I guess. One of their primary death deities was a Demon."
Ysa's dark eyes glance around, taking in the two new arrivals for a moment before returning to the discussion at hand. She takes another swig from her mug, treating it the same way everyone else seems to be treating the bourbon, her expression grim. "If it helps," the Knight offers, "I'm somewhat knowledgeable about demonology. I'm as much occultist as bounty hunter." She half-shrugs, using only one shoulder. "If help is wanted, that is, aside from the shoot it in the face kind. Which I can also do."
Alvis types in the address to look it up on the map and see if the interwebs has anything on the place. "Find it's bane and kill it or exorcise it. Could probably trap it if you know the right rituals or circles. Neither of which I know." He glances at Aurore then Gibson as they arrive.
Perk. "Demons?" This, from Gibson - the single word coupled with an almost snap-to glance towards Ysa. The man's voice is relatively deep and just this side of gravelly - and it carries with it a distinct American Midwestern accent - which is to say, of course, not much of an accent at all.
Whatever the case might be, he had initially drawn nearer to Katarina and simply leaned forward to touch three fingers to her shoulder in a simple, affectionate sort of gesture; but as that word is spoken, he rolls back and up to full height again - shoulders squaring and gaze flicking from person to person to person again. Finally, withdrawing the cigarette and holding it, two fingered, off to one side he continues "That's something I might know a couple of things about. Gibbs St. Claire." Pause there, just long enough to jerk his chin down towards Kat. "Kitten 'n I go way back."
"All help is always wanted" Winston smiles to Ysa. "We are all here to help each other and prevent creatures such as these from corrupting Fallcoast, the Hanging Hills and the innocent citizens of the twin towns." He smiles proudly. "It seems we have a number of experts on demons in our midst. I do hope your Ancient Sumerian is up to scratch. If you'll excuse me, I shall attempt to do some more research into Concorde. Feel free to eat, drink, be merry and chat among yourselves." A bow to the group before he heads for the secure research office.