[CLOSED] Meeting Darwin's Friends with Ken - MAGE [1-15-2026]
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Meeting Darwin's Friends with Ken
Date: [1-15-2026] -- Oct 3, 2014
Location: Crossroads on the Northwest side of Chicago, near the outskirts. Shops nearby, but its after hours, so the shops are closed and a few streetlights provide some light.Player Characters Present: Ken (Brad)
Open Spots: 1NPCs Present: Darwin (Mysterium mage)
Current Scenario: Waiting for Darwin's contact to arrive
Suggested Dice Pools: Stealth or Perception
End Trigger: Darwin leaves the scene (fair escape)
Opener:
The Crossroads was a lonely place after dark.
At the edge of the Northwest Side, where the city began to thin into freight yards, empty lots, and rusting fences, the intersection sat under the jaundiced glow of a few weary streetlights. The asphalt gleamed with the faint residue of an earlier rain, slick and black as oil. A half-dozen small shops lined the street — a shuttered bodega with faded lotto signs, a taquería with its neon “OPEN” sign still buzzing dimly behind the gate, and a pawn shop whose barred windows reflected the light in fractured gold. The air smelled faintly of wet concrete, ozone, and the ghost of gasoline. Somewhere down the block, a dog barked twice and fell silent.
Darwin stood near the curb, hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat. The collar was turned up against the cold, but it didn’t hide the tension in his face — pale, drawn, eyes constantly scanning the dark between parked cars and alley mouths. He was tall but seemed to fold in on himself, like a man trying not to be seen by the night itself. Every sound — a passing car, the rattle of a loose sign — made him flinch just a little. He had the look of someone used to talking his way out of trouble but uncertain whether words would do him any good tonight.
Ken stood a few feet behind him, not pacing, just present — still as a coiled spring. He wore a simple hoodie under a heavier canvas jacket, hands loose at his sides. His stance was quiet but deliberate, weight balanced, eyes slow and calm as he studied their surroundings. The faint light caught the edges of old scars along his knuckles. While Darwin’s breath fogged the air in shallow, nervous bursts, Ken’s came slow and measured. He didn’t speak much — just watched Darwin’s back and the shadows beyond.
Across the street, a flicker of motion — maybe a plastic bag stirred by the wind, or maybe something else — made Darwin tense. He checked his phone again: no new messages.
The city around them felt like it was holding its breath. The streetlights hummed softly. Somewhere far off, a train horn wailed through the cold air.
Ken finally spoke, voice low and even.
“You sure this guy’s coming?”Darwin swallowed. “He said he would. Just… might be running late.”
Ken didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on the mouth of the alley across the street, where the darkness seemed thicker than it should be.
The night pressed closer. And at the Crossroads, between shuttered shops and the thin thread of city light, two men waited — one anxious, one ready — for something neither could quite name, but both could feel approaching.
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Darwin stands at the curb beneath a buzzing streetlight, shifting from foot to foot. His coat is zipped tight despite the humid air, one hand nervously tapping at the phone in his pocket. He’s here to meet a werewolf contact—a desperate gamble for information.
Ken, standing just behind him, watches the empty lot with the calm patience of a man who expects trouble. Broad shoulders, gloved hands, and a gaze that never stops moving. He said he’d cover Darwin tonight—one solid, a favor for a favor.
A white van sits around the corner, its engine off. Inside, DosBox hunches over a cluttered dashboard, wires running to a jury-rigged array of devices that hum and flicker faintly. On the dashboard, a bright light like an active screen shows Ken, shaded by the twilight of the evening. The active Scrying spell follows him, limiting their view. Next to him, Chance leans forward, eyes locked on the shimmering view in the scrying window that shows the intersection. The mage’s focus is total; he can feel the thin pulse of Fate and Time twining through the air. They can't see much, but they can see how Ken is acting, how he is reacting.
DosBox: “Signal’s clean. No sign of—”
Something moves. A shadow cuts across the street.
A girl—blue-haired, fast—bolts from the alley and sprints straight for Darwin.
Ken reacts instantly, intercepting her, his hand catching her arm before she can reach the mage. For a moment, their eyes meet.
And something happens.
A flare of unseen resonance hums through the street—like the sound of strings tightening across centuries. Fate and Time snap together in a luminous knot between them. The vision hits Chance like a thunderclap through the scrying feed: flashes of Ken and the girl standing together somewhere else, sometime else—bound by something immense and unfinished.
Chance (OOC / mechanical): Dramatic Failure — gains Obsession (Ken + Blue Hair link)
Before anyone can react, the air tears.
The Gauntlet splits like wet paper, reality peeling open with a shriek that only the Awakened can hear. From the tear, something climbs out—a twisted, three-legged, four-armed thing of slick black flesh and burning eyes. Its body quivers with pain and hate, a malformed spirit given form.
Then another.
Pain Spirits.
Quills whip through the air, glinting under the streetlight. Ken moves fast, pulling Darwin behind him. Quills slice his jacket—one grazes his arm—but he doesn’t flinch. The girl ducks low, rolling to the side with inhuman grace.
The scrying window shakes with motion as Chance and DosBox react in tandem, DosBox barking a spell command as Chance channels focused intent. DosBox activates his phone app, the one for physics, and feels it wrap around his arm. He glances at the window, tapping the app options to include a +1, and watching as the air around Ken's limbs shimmers. Chance ties a few strings together, letting luck guide their hands. Ken draws on the new speed and accuracy, laying a hundred punches on one of the spirits, causing it to burst apart, dissolving into shreds of shadow and static—but the second rips through the veil again, dragging something huge behind it.
The ground shakes.
A massive werewolf slams through the breach, eyes like molten amber, fangs bared. It was waiting—ready to ambush Ken. But Ken sees it coming, Spirit Sight warning him a heartbeat early. He ducks low, spins, and drives an uppercut straight into the beast’s snout.
The impact cracks the air. SHOOOOOORYUKEN!
The werewolf stumbles, stunned.
Another werewolf erupts behind him, this one focused on DosBox. Tearing into him with brutal teeth crippling his leg and splashing blood across the concrete.
DosBox: “I’ve got it! Don’t—don’t pull me back—I had him!”
He’s delirious, babbling, trying to reach the new werewolf, waving his arms frantically.The blue-haired girl shoves Darwin toward a wall and shouts something guttural—First Tongue, full of command and urgency. Another shadow peels off the ground—a friend —charging straight into the fray, tackling one of the werewolves off its feet. The athletic black man grabs the werewolf about the midsection, and flips it onto its head, stunning it for a few precious seconds.
Chance grips the strands of time and pulls.
Reality slows. Sound stretches thin and metallic. His heartbeat echoes like thunder. He reaches DosBox, hauls him up, and they move in a blur of impossible speed—vanishing from the street and reappearing near the van’s open side door.
Darwin is hyperventilating, eyes wide. “In the van!” he shouts. “Now!”
Ken starts to move—then freezes.
Someone steps out from the shadows, blocking his path.
A man, tall and still, beside a motorcycle that wasn’t there a moment ago. The helmet he wears gleams under the streetlight—its visor stretched tight with a human face, flensed and tanned into skin-like leather.
Ken grabs Darwin, throws him toward the van, and lunges. His punch connects mid-leap, cracking the helmet with a sickening twist. But as he passes, the flensed man draws a massive blade and drives it upward—aiming to gut him clean.
Time stutters.
Through the haze of slowed perception, Chance sees it—the blade’s arc, the fatal trajectory—and snaps his will outward. Threads of probability twist, shimmer, and bend.
Spell: Exceptional Luck (Charmed)
10 Lethal + 1 Aggravated → 1 LethalThe blade catches Ken’s belt buckle, deflecting harmlessly into his kevlar jacket. The suit tears; the man doesn’t. Ken hits the ground rolling, alive by sheer miracle.
Darwin throws the van door open. “Get in!”
Ken does. DosBox follows, dragging his bleeding leg. Chance leaps into the driver’s seat, slamming the keys into the ignition.
The blue-haired girl appears again, rounding the corner—her eyes widen as she sees the flensed man. For a heartbeat, she freezes. Then she meets Ken’s gaze. Something passes between them.
Ken doesn’t hesitate. He leaps from the van, spinning into a bicycle kick that slams into the flensed man’s arm and helmet, knocking the blade sideways and into the motorcycle’s tire. The bike tire explodes with a loud pop of ruptured rubber.
The girl uses the chaos, vaulting over the sprawled attacker and into the van.
She turns in the doorway, shouting a single name:“Elijah!”
From the alley, a massive black wolf bounds into view, muscles rippling under matted fur. It leaps—midair, twisting—and lands in the van in the form of a tall, athletic Black man. He wraps an arm around the girl protectively as Ken slams the door behind them.
Chance floors it.
The van fishtails out of the lot, clipping the flensed man with the rear bumper. He goes down hard, spinning into the gutter as the group speeds into the night.
Inside the van: panting, blood, and disbelief.
DosBox clutches his leg, mumbling, “I had him. I totally had him.”
Ken wipes the blood from his torn jacket, glances at the blue-haired girl, then at the new wolf-man passenger.
No one says anything for a long moment.Chicago’s lights blur past the windows.
The city exhales.
They are, for now, alive. -
Chance Meridian
Dice Pool - 7: Manipulation (3) + Persuasion (2) + Attune[Chicago] (2)
Action: Get our new "friends" talking about themselves and this situation.
Health: 7 - No Damage
Mana: 4 (2 spent during the fight)
Willpower: 5 (1 spent during the fight)
Conditions: Charmed, Steadfast, ObsessedDescription:
The city noise slowly reasserted itself.
Chance didn’t stop the van right away—not when the adrenaline was still loud, not when the echoes of claws, engines, and screaming spirits still felt like they might peel back reality again if he let them. He drove three more turns than strictly necessary, merged into traffic, then took an exit that led them into a quiet industrial stretch where the warehouses were dark and the streets were empty.
Only when his breathing finally evened out did he signal and pull the van over beneath a flickering sodium streetlight.
He put it in park. Killed the engine.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Chance rested his forearms on the steering wheel, eyes forward, letting the silence settle—not heavy, not threatening. Just… deliberate. Then he glanced at the rearview mirror, catching fragments: Ken steadying himself, Darwin pale and shaken, DOSBox slumped but conscious. Blue hair. The big black man filling the back corner like a coiled shadow.
“Alright,” Chance said quietly. “We’re clear.”He turned in his seat just enough to be seen, hands open, posture relaxed. No sudden movements. No edge in his voice.
“First things first—everyone alive?” His eyes flicked to DOSBox. “You’re hurt, but you’re with us. That counts as a win tonight.”A faint, humorless exhale escaped him before he continued.
“I’m Chance,” he said, as if introductions hadn’t already half-happened under worse circumstances. “I don’t love surprises, especially the kind that involve spirits clawing their way into the street. But I like understanding things even more.”
His gaze moved—not lingering, not challenging—over the two newcomers.
“You two saved lives back there,” he said plainly. “That earns you at least a conversation.”He leaned back against the seat, creating space rather than closing it.
“So. Help me get my arms around what we just ran through.”
His eyes returned to Ken first, softer there. “You brought us in because you thought this could get messy. Good call.” Then, gently: “But I don’t think the mess was the one you expected.”
Chance turned his attention to the blue-haired woman. Even without Mage Sight active, he felt the echo of it—the tug of Fate and Time like a half-remembered dream that refused to let go. His jaw tightened for just a heartbeat before smoothing out again.
“You grabbed Darwin before the spirits came through,” he said, observational rather than accusatory. “Which tells me you weren’t surprised by them. Or at least… not unprepared.”
A pause. An opening.
“And then there’s the spirits themselves,” he continued. “Pain-aligned. Coordinated. Not random. That kind of thing doesn’t just wander into traffic unless someone leaves a door open—or keeps feeding it.”
His eyes finally lifted to the big man in the back. Elijah. The name still rang in his ears, heavy and important.“And you,” Chance added. “You both moved like someone who’s done this before. Fast, controlled, covering exits. Which tells me this wasn’t your first bad night.”
He let the questions hang there, unstacked. No rapid-fire. No pressure.
Then, deliberately, he set the tone.
“I’m not here to point fingers,” Chance said. “And I’m definitely not here to pretend none of us noticed what the others are.” A faint, wry smile touched his mouth. “That ship sailed about three seconds after the Gauntlet tore.”He gestured vaguely back the way they’d come.
“But whatever that was? It wasn’t contained. And if it hadn’t been us in that parking lot, it would’ve been someone without a prayer of walking away.”
He met the blue-haired woman’s eyes directly now, calm and steady.
“So let’s do this,” Chance said. “You tell me who you are. Why you were there. And whether those pain spirits are gone—or just angry.”A beat.
“And in exchange,” he added, “I’ll be honest about one thing up front.”A slight shrug.
“I build bridges. Not cages.”
The van sat humming with cooling metal and unanswered questions, the city stretching quietly around them—waiting to see whether this night ended in lines drawn… or alliances made.
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Richard "Ricky Dee" Davenport - DosBox
Dice Pool: Composure (3) + Expression (1) = 5
Action: Trying to look like he didn't just get his shit rocked by a fucking werewolf kaiju or whateverMana Pool: 12 [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] (Spend 3/Turn) [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] Health: 7 [/] [/] [X] [X] [ ] [ ] [ ] Willpower: 5 [X] [X] [X] [ ] [ ] Conditions: NoneDescription: DosBox is looking a little worse for Were (see what I did there?). His leg was missing a chunk of flesh large enough to expose bone, but by flushing his mana reserves, he was able to fill in the missing person meat and stop the bleeding. At least it doesn't look infected. Lounging in the passenger seat, he has the seat licked back a little for the purposes of relaxation. "Yeah, I mean, I didn't lose anything that wouldn't grow back, and we've got 200% survival rate since we started with 3 teammates and ended with 6. So that's totes a double win in my book."
The interior of the van is a bit more barebones than you would expect from a tech mage. There aren't any fancy screens, blinking lights, or fantastical pieces of electronics cluttering the place up. One of the rows of seats for the passenger van is even still installed, allowing for somewhat comfortable seating. In the back is a palette of weed gummies; it appears DosBox was transporting some stock before he was conscripted for this little trip. DosBox casually mentions, "Hey, if y'all wanna snag some, feel free. Shrinkage is inevitable in any business, ya know?" He pauses for a second before adding, "I've also got a bong in the back if y'all wanna light up. I think everyone's a little stressed out, so like, if we wanna chill for a bit, we could pull over and hot box or something." The stark contrast of Chance's super serious business focus and DosBox's laissez faire attitude might seem like an intentional Good Cop/Bad Cop act. Or maybe a Professional Cop/Fuck-up Cop act. Whichever.
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Darwin looked like a ghost, face pale and breathing shallow.
The Blue haired girl scooted over to him and put an arm around him comfortingly, pulling him up close to her. This seemed to help calm him a little, even if it made him blush horribly.
She leaned in to whisper something to the shaken mage. It didn’t sound comforting. She seemed upset at him for having endangered himself.
The dark skinned man leaned back against the van side, looking over at Blue Hair. The two met eyes, he gave a small nod, and then he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
She took a deep breath and turned to Chance and the other mages.
“Nova. This is my brother Elijah. We’re what’s left of our crew. Those were scouts for their screaming masters. The one with the knife; he was a boss. One of the local leaders. Don’t know how many there are, but we’ve met him a couple times. I’ve seen what he leaves behind. They’re…intent on killing us. Any of the People who come into the city.”
She pauses, gives Darwin a little squeeze. A soft breeze picks up inside the van. She glares at…it…and gives a little hiss like a person scolding a cat. The breeze dies down.
“There were six of us who came looking for the Lost Ones. Now, we are two.’ The breeze again. “Three. We are three.” She corrects herself.
“Darwin here has been texting me for a couple of weeks. He was supposed to send a messenger to meet with me and bring me to him, not come in person. I told him it would be too dangerous. He wasn’t even supposed to be in the city itself.”
Darwin seems to have somewhat collected himself. He makes out a few words, ”I wanted to surprise you. I am braver than you think, and I can handle some myself.”
She gives him a dark look.
“Being dead doesn’t help anyone.” She chides softly, before continuing, “I didn’t know there were so many wizards in the city. I thought they might be hunting you too, and wanted to see if we could connect, maybe work together to stay alive and figure out what is going on.”
She shifts in her seat, readjusting herself, and takes a moment to study the three mages in more detail.
"Ken, you aren't supposed to be here." She looks at Ken, her eyes softening, worried, and says it matter of factly.
Chance, now with some time to actually look, can see a complex web of Time wrapping in and around the girl, so intricate and ornate it is either the work of a master mage or something powerful. Of particular note, Chance could see NOTHING on Elijah. It seemed contained to Nova, and it was connected to Ken by strands and strings, softly wrapping into his pattern. It was like nothing he had seen before; truly a work of magical art.
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• Ken(Hideki Takashi)
Dice Pool: presence(2)+ Persuasion(-1) + willpower(3)=4
Action: try to discern what Nova was doing there.
Health: 2 empty and 6 lethal
Mana/Vitae: 12/14
Willpower: 3/7
Conditions:
Description
Ken pushed himself off the side of the van, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Do I know you?""No," she says, "not yet." She says somewhat uncertainly.
He shrugs, easy but tired. He turns toward Darwin. “Darwin what type of shit did you get yourself into."
Nova turns to Darwin, clearly thinking the same thing.
Turning back to Nova “Which actually brings me to my question.”
Looking back at him, she leans her head back, waiting for it.
“What were you doing out here?” Ken asked. “I mean spirits ambushing us, a creepy guy wearing a flesh mask built like a brick shithouse. Who just so happens to have one of the nastiest knifes I have ever seen.”
She glanced at Darwin instinctively, giving his arm another reassuring squeeze.Ken folds his arms and gives both Nova and Darwin a cold stare. "I need Darwin alive so the next time you to plan on kicking up a hornets nest give me a call.
The van fell into a brief silence, broken only by Darwin’s breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. -
Nova half smiles, clearly thinking about an answer.
Darwin interjects, like a child stepping between parents fighting.
"This was my idea. I wanted to see her face to face for once. We've only ever texted, and some short phone calls. I'd never seen her or actually met her and I couldn't wait. I thought I'd surprise her, and with Ken there, we'd be pretty safe." He says it in a rush, like he has to get it out before someone stops him.
His color has returned and he's scooched over so he can turn in his seat to see both Nova and Ken.
She gives him a sideways glance, before continuing from his bit.
"I was trying to connect with a wizard. We need some help if we can get it, and thought we'd offer in return." She looks over at Darwin, "but I asked Darwin to send someone who could handle themselves, as the Choir of Pain have been on the hunt."
Turning back to Ken, "Looks like our friend Darwin has been marked by them. Probably happened awhile ago." She shakes off his hurt look, "wasn't intentional on your part Darwin. They probably had you spotted and marked you at a grocer or while walking the street. They've been following you, waiting for something. They must have decided us together was worth springing their trap." She gives Ken a few minutes to process this, and waits for the next inevitable question.
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Dice Pool: Wits(3) + Empathy(2)=5 (3 successes)
Ken would like to add 1 merit dot to ally Nova (Success)
Chance and DosBox can do the same if they want to connect with her in a downtime or another scene without going through Ken.
Nova casually reaches behind the seats and opens a bag of gummies, popping them into her mouth like fruit snacks. She tosses some at Elijah, giggling a little as they bounce off his face. He grunts, picks them off the floor and pops them into his mouth, his eyes still closed. She grabs another bag, waves them at DosBox as if asking 'can I just?', and then starts into those.
Ken shifts in his seat. “About what’s been tailing us,” Ken says.
Nova’s eyes stay on him. “Nothing is tailing us.” She says flatly. "They've learned not to chase us."“Those things that attacked us though,” he replies evenly. “They're hunting us.”
"I don't know if they are hunting you yet. That might have changed." She says it sadly, as if feeling guilty for dragging the mages into the horror of her world. It is without a doubt that it was something she was trying to avoid this very outcome.
Ken continues, voice low. “But it’s hunting all of us. Me. You. Anyone who was in that lot.”"It was using our friend to set an ambush. They didn't attack until I arrived. How can you be so sure they are hunting you?"
“I don’t know for sure,” Ken answers without missing a beat. “But I trust the math. Alone, we’re easier prey.”
Nova considers that, eyes flicking to the dark window like she expects something to be pacing them just out of sight.
“Temporary,” she says. “I bring more trouble with me than I can offer in help. We figure out what happened and how to keep the Choir from killing all of you, then we separate. I can't drag all of you into our war here.”
“Temporary,” Ken agrees. “We share intel. No sabotage. No feeding each other to them.”
A corner of her mouth twitches. “Low bar. Might be too low. If they are hunting you.” she pauses.
"The Choir. They're...we're not entirely sure, but we're fairly certain they are a group of werewolf packs working together. I'm pretty sure that the Flenser is one of the leaders, but not THE leader. The leader might be a spirit lord, as there are always strong spirits with them, willing to fight, spy, defend."Ken gives a small nod. “We don’t have to like each other. We just have to survive the same problem.”
That seems to hurt Nova, but she covers it quickly. "Sure, okay. That sounds fine. So, can I stay with you for a few nights?"
She suddenly hears what she said and blushes heavily, "I mean like, stay at a safe place with your crew, and Elijah." She points to him, still quiet in the back of the van. "I'm not sure they have our new bolthole found, but if they do, it'll be a death trap...and they have our blood scent now. They can track us unless we cleanse it."
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Chance Meridian
Action: Drive the group to a temporary safe house, using Fate magic to tell him where they'll be safe for 24hrs until a more permanent solution can be found.
Description
Chance didn’t slow down until the city’s pulse eased—until the lights stopped stuttering and started breathing in long, predictable intervals. That was how he knew they were clear. Not safe, exactly. But out of the immediate blast radius.
He kept one hand on the wheel and let the other rest loosely against the dash, thumb tracing an idle circle as he focused—not on the road ahead, but on all the roads he wasn’t taking. He didn’t look for answers so much as he listened for the quiet tug that said this way. The city answered like it always did: not with certainty, but with alignment. A turn here. A light caught just right. A block that shouldn’t be empty, but was.
The van followed the thread.
They ended up a few neighborhoods west, tucked into a stretch of old brick walk-ups pressed shoulder-to-shoulder like conspirators. The building he pulled in front of had once been a union office—long defunct, now quietly repurposed. No obvious cameras. No foot traffic at this hour. The kind of place people passed every day without ever really seeing.
Chance cut the engine.
“This should hold,” he said, finally turning in his seat. His tone was calm, professional—reassuring without promising more than he could deliver. “At least a day. Maybe two, if no one does anything loud.”
He reached into his jacket and produced a simple white card, handing it first to Nova, then nodding to Elijah. Caleb Sheridan was printed in clean black type. A phone number. An email. No symbols. No tells.
“If anything goes sideways,” Chance continued, “or if you just need doors opened that don’t respond to force—call. I can usually make bureaucracy behave. Or at least trip over itself in useful ways.”
He didn’t linger. Didn’t push for gratitude or assurances. Bridges held better when you didn’t test them under load.
“I’ve got paperwork to handle,” he added, already stepping out into the night air. “And a city that likes its stories neat.”
The door shut softly behind him.
Chance walked down the block, coat collar up, pace unhurried. After a few steps, he turned a corner—and then another—until the van, the building, and the moment itself dissolved into Chicago’s endless sprawl.
By the time anyone might think to look for him, he was already gone.
Edit:
Spellcast - Serendipity (Fate 1)
Gnosis (3) + Arcana (3) + High Speech (2) + Concentration (2) + Order Tool (a silver coin) (1)11 dice, 3 free reaches
Instant Casting, Advanced Duration"This spell grants the mage a momentary glimpse of all the potential roads her destiny may follow to her desired destina-
tion, which allows the mage to identify the next step she must take to accomplish a stated objective. Upon casting, the mage
receives a clear omen that suggests a course of action that will lead her closer to her goal."Chance is looking for "a place where Ken, Nova, and Elijah will be safe for at least 24hrs". And his knowledge of the city (thank you Threads) gives him a lot of good options, just needs to find which safe place Fate deems to be right.
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Ken(Hideki Takashi)
Dice Pool: life(3) + gnosis(3) + rote(empathy) 2 + high speech(2) + dedicated tool(omamori) +1=11
Reaches: heal lethal, instant
Action: finish conversation with Nova. Heal Dosbox if needed.
Health: 8/8
Mana/Vitae: 13
Willpower: 6/7
Conditions:
Description
Ken pauses, tilting his head as he listens to Himari. After a second, he nods.
“Yeah, that’s fine—so long as Elijah doesn’t mind the floor,” he says, glancing back with an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, big guy. I don’t exactly have a bed or a couch that could hold you.”
His gaze shifts to Dosbox. “You gonna be okay, or do you need me to try and knit you back together?”
Ken takes the time to heal Dosbox and and says he will walk and grab us some breakfast sandwhiches and coffee. Nova you want to join?
Hours later, Ken pulls out his phone. “I’ll grab us an Uber. Darwin, we can have them drop you off on the way, if you want. -
Richard "Ricky Dee" Davenport - DosBox
Dice Pool: Manipulation (3) + Subterfuge (1) = 4
Action: Lying through his teeth about being injuredMana Pool: 12 [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] (Spend 3/Turn) [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] Health: 7 [/] [/] [X] [X] [ ] [ ] [ ] Willpower: 5 [X] [X] [X] [ ] [ ] Conditions: NoneDescription: DosBox waves a hand dismissively as he scoffs in an exaggerated gesture, "I mean, I am probably fine. I can just, I dunno, stop by the hospital for a bit and say a dog bit me or something. Stuff like this will heal quick, and like, we don't have to use magic for EVERYTHING, right?"
It's true that the injury isn't really life threatening. It's certainly a lot better than it was before DosBox got into the car. Still, it also hurts like a bitch. DosBox is doing his best to look tough for his new friends, and his performance during the battle showed he's still a little green in more just the products for his business. (...because of the weed. Get it?) -
@JacktheCow The first step for keeping them safe seems to lead out of the city, and then some. Too far to drive this evening. The whole city seems to be dangerous, outside of owned bolt holes and secret places outside the effect of the spell. Some areas are more safe than others though, and that's as best a place to get out as any. The city can guide Chance back via train and bus to wherever he needs to go.
@greatsquiggy As it is DosBox's van, he can drop the rest of the crew off in a less dangerous area that doesn't scream RUN in Chance's head, which as best as he's going to get them to. Somewhere they won't immediately be hounded or hunted, but not an area, or any area, they can stay in.
@1l0velamp Ken would have a flat in the city that is in a high rise, and quite nice. Additionally there are Adamantine Arrow safehouses, but Ken would have decide if he wants to stash a werewolf there... that might not be safe for anyone else also trying to lay low or passing through. Many of the younger Arrows still stay there, a larger house that was probably a fraternity house at one time, with 10 bedrooms (all small, some obviously originally intended for other purposes, and including the attic and basement made into a pair of rooms each), and a large gym area in the basement as well. There are usually 3 or 4 Arrows staying there at a time, plus whoever has been set as the Watcher with their Cabal on stand by.
Ken can call a driver that works for the family, can go to his own car, can take an uber, use the L train, or hop on a bus with the two werewolves and Darwin. Darwin would mention coyly where he needs to go, and its an apartment complex on the Northwest side just outside the city itself. The L train goes really close by and he says he can take that if they walk him to the sub station nearby. He doesn't want to walk there himself.
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