Black Sheep

SESSION TWELVE
Jackson

Not much can be said at a meeting like this, the decision to run seems like the safest option but it does not mean survival. So, the decision to stand and fight comes to mind but without any knowledge of who the enemy the battle all that much harder. So we decide to divide again, to find allies and information, it may be the best chance of survival in this all. But first a nature of trust needs to be established, because just because some of us have the power doesn’t mean we know what best… that being said I think it’s time to give the lady in charge a more personal visit. See if a calm, and young face can give rise to more help

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SESSION ELEVEN
Jackson

All together again…
After a night like we had its not surprising that we were all tired, it would come natural for any normal individual on a normal late night to be exhausted. It should not have surprised anyone that we all went our separate ways to retreat and think through what has gone one. Two of our close friends now have fallen to an otherwise unseen hunter and all correlation indicate that any of the rest of us could be at similar risk. So our separation may not have been wise for our safety but it was necessary to try a preserve what little sanity could be salvaged from the whole ordeal. The stronger, in strength only, went to prowl in their confidence perhaps to try to hunt the hunter and reap swift justices for those dearly fallen. Others retreat to the company of those who know in the hopes of remembrance as well as safety in numbers, if such a thing was possible.
After the period of rest though, the first night of many, has passed and no new friends join the fallen so some short term relaxation can be achieved. New lessons about the band could be learned, and perhaps some dark secrets exhumed if the cards are right. For a bit of dark realities among birds of a feather may strengthen and solidify the bond that must be created. But just as the dark night had to pass the period of relief must come to an end as well and the harsh realities of the situation comes to light.
But the hunters return and the minds come together to make their next move to make sure the first night in their new dark world will be one of the last… right after breakfast of course.

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SESSION TEN
Gabrielle

Dear Diary,

It has actually, literally been the worst day ever. I know I’ve said that before, but this time I’m not dicking around.

Two people have died. My friend and my mentor. I never thought we’d be involved in something so huge, but here we are. They were murdered and we mean to find the killer. But I don’t really know how or what we will do when we find them. This is the most serious thing that’s ever happened to me.

I met the Queen or whatever of this city. She is a Sidhe like me. I suddenly realize why everyone seems to have a bad disposition toward us. I DARED to ask a question and she totally blew up in my face. She wanted to do some binding oath thing with us and I wasn’t too cool with that. Guess that’s not allowed. She cursed me. Now I can’t go in the Freeholds anymore. I hope I’ll still be able to help the others. Apparently she didn’t let them do the oath thing either. I really miss Oscar. He was so good at explaining everything. Now the only person we know who knows about this stuff is both a pookah and in severe mental distress. Not much chance of getting any info out of her.

Anyway, Leelie and I went out to find Oscar’s…mortal shell?

Okay, I take back what I told you about the Nocker last time. She’s actually pretty cool. Just rough around the edges. We found him all right. It was so creepy. I don’t want to talk about it.

I have no idea how we are going to solve this. I think it might be a good idea to call Quincy. I think I’ll do that tomorrow.

For now, Leelie, Jackson, and I are sitting around waiting. Almer is supposed to meet up with us soon. I’m really worried about he and M.

By the way, Mr. Darcy is doing okay. He made a big mess but I just need to start feeding him better stuff. Man, pet ownership is hard. I really wish I could talk to Reagan about this. But I don’t think I can just pretend that this one is just a story I’m writing. And I’m pretty sure Alistair’s gonna kill me if I don’t show up for work soon.

This is all so impossible. If I die and someone finds me, my only regret is never having a real friend who could understand me, and I them. I hope I can find that before some magical thing destroys my soul. Good night

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SESSION NINE
M

An ongoing murder investigation.

As the vassals of the Duchess try to piece together the details of this heinous crime, a new set of eyes attempts to pore over the facts.

They may be hampered by a lack of experience, but they sure make up for it in gumption! Though their plees come of as overenthusiastic, could these new faces be the ones to find our killer? Time will surely tell.

Watch as Basset, the neighborhood detective, plies his craft at the crime scene. He’s got the body of a heavy reader, but the heart of a loyal hound dog. Look at him go! After those clues, Basset!

But it seems our intrepid young wannabe heroes have wandered off, each in their own direction. They’ll have to work together or die alone. Can they pull together with the older crowd, or is the city doomed?! Find out next time, on BLACK SHEEP!

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SESSION EIGHT
Jackson
Battle can be raged on many fronts and those of words can be some of the most fearsome if in the right, or wrong, situation. And just because blood is not spilt does not mean that there are not loses to be taken into account. This is another tale of what my mates had to go through such a fight. One of our number was lost, at least to the consideration of those better than us all, and that would hurt us as we began out true quest. Though, those who have fallen from grace from grace have not fallen from use or companions especially when one is almost a family. We first needed to heal whatever wounds that need to be and circle the wagons to find where the allies and companions actually lie. We made light of the falling out, at least as best that we could, letting the abandoned know they have friends and allies and would be continued to be counted as such. Then… we planned. And the plan was to find who put us in this mess in the first place. Se we divide and conquer, and the fair party members let in search of the information so far lost to us, while the quietest member and I went back to the origin of it all? Even though the time with these people has been so long I still know so little about them. You see my friends, the quiet ones have always been mystery in my time among you and the new band has been no different. This quiet one has a view of our quest as one that concerned me. He is thriving in the hunt and anticipating the finish, almost as an animal would view and upcoming meal of it all. He to the sort of quiet to respected, but a bit of fear and caution would also do some good. Eventually we make our destination, on edge because the hunters (or hunted) may still be present. Caution in such situations was key, but once inside some amount of normalcy was taken but the quest took away from relaxing and clues needed to be found. While the quiet hunter searches for leads with someone better at finding such I fall to support of the distraught. As I began with, words have power and it does not have to be pain or blood that they cause healing may be possible. If someone wants to take it words or the actions that can go with can give a little light in the darkness that is surrounding them. And sometime in the kindness, little bits of missing information can reach the light of day. And in every mystery, you never know what clue could make or break the case… but there are always those who will doubt you. And you will have to stand up to them in order to reach the goal.
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SESSION SEVEN
Leelie

SHEEP WILL JOIN THE FLOCK. WOLVES WILL BE SLAUGHTERED,” scrawled across the back wall of the stage. Our cast of characters begins to move forward hesitatingly, nervous for their safety after the collapse of the chandelier that has injured two of their number. In the wings, they squeeze through a variety of set pieces and props, and Kitty leads them to a trap door, hidden in the shadows. As they slowly descend, each of the characters realizes in their own time what they are headed toward; the heart of the freehold, the Balefire. Located in a beautiful, artistic furnace, the flame is low, and seems to have little time left. It is quickly decided that the only course of action is to approach the Duchess and appeal for her aid. Minus the lovely, but delicate Demona, they brave the sewers below the Freudian Slip, headed for their nobility, sure to make a sparkling impression in post-sewer-filth-chic.
On the way, conversation turns to the symbol left with the message, the ubiquitous male, or mars symbol, as well as what they can expect from their first visit to the Court. After just a few too many moments spent in the squalor, they emerge into a well-lit, older residential neighborhood, clearly built with money to spare. M, in particular, seems uncomfortable.
They follow Skuld to a Victorian-style manor hidden behind a hedge and a gate with no keyhole. A drop of blood from her thumb opens the lock, and they are greeted by a sluagh by the name of Hemlocke. He lets them in, and they meet Duchess Lisette, a woman whose beauty they can only grasp in bits and pieces. She makes her way through them, hinting at familiarity with each flashing change of color in her eyes. Only minutes pass before they reveal to her the reason they’ve come; Oscar’s murder. They share what they’ve seen and learned; Kitty with Oscar’s horn, the message and the alchemical symbol for iron, the missing textbook and papers, the fact that the perpetrator seems to have been to The Slip before, and the dying balefire.
Duchess Lisette tells them of a rumor she’s heard of a shape-shifting killer who’s been destroying freeholds and kith. She mentions the Dautain. And she makes a surprising suggestion; that this group of young kithain, infants, really, could band together to fight for the freehold, and for the safety of them all. They were given a fairly stark choice; take up the quest or leave the domain. While at first several reacted with fear and disbelief, they soon came to realize that this was too important to walk away. After a swift reminder of their Duchess’ power is lain upon Gabrielle our hopeful heroes sally forth to investigate, and perhaps to do battle.

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Session Five
Jackson
The sounds of combat still reign, the enemy were not the strongest or smartest but its elusiveness makes it something to be cautioned. But as fast as it all started with Almer and I lunging it was over… with a lucky shot none the less. One enemy lying dead at our feet while another waits at mine, very much afraid of what I may come next. But worry not, my compatriots and I knew mercy, and respect for fallen foes shows who are the true warriors and gentleman. I mean after all, if you can make a friend from a foe your life may only get better. How do you make a foe of a friend you ask? Why make sure it’s not gonna die from combat first off, hard to make friends with dead things after all. Then you remove it from the field of battle as that is no way to hold a friend. Take it to somewhere safe and warm and have it learn that you are to be trusted for its survival. Of course, everyone may not agree with that course of action. After all, saving ones foe is hard to stomach for the victors if something was lost. But luckily calmer voices will prevail and then the process of friendship can continue. Trust may be slow to come from the others of course but in time, with care you can find a new friend where it would not be expected. Of course my friends, the victors don’t just walk away with just the honor and the spoils. There is some heaviness that can leave a field of battle with you, remorse for something that was done to win. That does not ever really leave you, it also depends on what he had to do.

But no matter you take away remember friends, remember to keep looking forward and watch yourself, because you never know what battle may be around the corner…

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SESSION FOUR
Gabrielle

Chapter 4, The Heat of Battle

(rated M)

The soon to be heroes went forth for the start of their next test. They would be training in the art of combat.

Upon entering the dim and welcoming establishment of their mentor, the group congregated around a new face. From the comforting shadows of their refuge, she emerged. Long black curls cascaded down her muscled frame, her blue skin a cold contrast to the warm lamp light of the bar. A tattoo of a snake wove itself up her arm and caressed her body beneath her supple leather armor, beyond sight of the curious group. Her name was Stella.

Alfred, our noble and statuesque bard, passes a few playfully sharp remarks with her. He must know her, though the others know not how or why. Their interaction seems friendly though, a relief to the eyes of Jason, who have hungered for the sight of the elfin fellow for days now.

No sign of the mysterious and dark Miles. Unsurprisingly, the group is also absent Leigh, her off color remarks and aggressive behavior leaving a void in the team’s dynamic. There is no doubt they have busied themselves with more…pressing concerns.

Delora is, as always, a bit aloof and dangerously inviting. Her voluptious curves accented by every movement. She is so skilled with the art of her body, none are left unmanipulated. And none can guess at the object of her no doubt molten desires.

Each shake hands with the new vixen, thier fingers tingling as they pass over the snake tattoo, which seems to writhe just beneath her skin.The subtle threat of her two handed blade only bringing a further sense of danger to her already exotic nature.

The posse grabs their weapons of choice, a sword and knife for the mistress of desire, brass knuckles for the lean but powerful Alfred, and for the muscular and rugged Jason, his usual wooden quarterstaff. They take the sling and bullets for the rough edged Leigh. She will meet them in the dark of night, ready to sling rocks like she slings insults, meant to kill.

Stella also seems to know the elusive Miles, a few tantalizing details about him spilling from her lips. But not enough for our heroes to guess at his motives. Other than his weakness for the sharp tongued Leigh, they remain in the dark.

Meeting up Leigh, her sardonic smile blending well with the night, Stella informs them they will hunting a Snipe. After some explanation, as the rag tag team seems to be somewhat ignorant of their own magical world, they set off into the shadows of the nearby forest.

Alfred feels the icy grip of fear dance across his skin. He tries to hide it from the others, mainly not wanting Jason to know, but he is drawn to that protective nature. A strange noise alerts him to something in the underbrush. Crouching low, his breath coming in short gasps, his eyes meet Jason’s across the treed area. Jason has heard it too, and his first instinct is to see to Alfred’s safety. As their eyes lock, heat between them is palpable. Their lust for each other has been so far unrevealed, but in this moment, they cannot hide their naked desire from each other.

Despite their magnetic attraction, the sense of danger overwhelmes their need for each other. As they engage the unknown threat, the dynamic between them shifts. Alfred feels his training kick in and rather than longing for protections,he becomes the protector. He begins to lead in a flank and Jason follows him, a perfect shift between dominant and submissive between them both. They flow together, like water, their bodies in harmony as they close the distance and bare down upon the horror that lies in wait in the bushes.

The fiendish thing has a long curved beak and razor talons. It shrieks from the brush and claws at Jason’s exposed neck. A dark line of blood appears across his chiseled jawline. Alfred’s breath catches in his throat and a surge of raw adrenaline courses through him. The image of that perfect face being marred with violence…his body tenses and he leaps forward, his fist connecting with the creature. It screams as it releases Jason from the impact. Delora falls in with her blades but the two men barely notice. They are so close, they can feel the heat of each other’s bodies. Blood mixed with sweat rolls down Jason’s throat and collar bone, disappearing tantalizingly beneath his shirt collar. Alfred’s breath is so ragged from fear and violence and desire, he almost forgets. But now is not the time or the place. And the battle is not over…

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SESSION THREE
LEELIE

What can you do when you’re surrounded by crazy?

Well, with people running away from, apparently, someone (or someones) with guns, we still decided to get our souvenirs before we left, because Fuck It, right? Well, with a little bit of luck, and a little bit of Fey magic, pieces of their night were in their grasp and they attempted to head back to Oscar without arousing the suspicion of the local PD.

Although most made it back to Oscar quickly in the parking lot, they were missing a few classmates, and decided to head back in on a brave *cough*frackingstupid*cough* rescue mission. Although they did not find the missing adventurers, who had rejoined Oscar all on their own, they did acquire some new friends and make it back without any injuries or serious involvement with banality.

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SESSION TWO
M

Fortune and fun at the Barnes and Barnum’s Looney Town Amusement Park!

Step right up for the amazing feats of magic! Look to the lovely ladies of the Wheel, the mysterious travelers both large and small, and the meddling miscreants of the midway!

Our intrepid heroes have been given a quest by the affable and illustrious Mr. Riled: come back with a suitable gift using your arts, or suffer the consequences. What might those be? Death? Expellment?! A tarnishment on the silver stars of servitude thrust upon them?!?

So we follow the tale of two fair folks, one quiet and broody, one grubby and irate, to the games of chance and skill. Here, they will try to purloin a treasure to bring back to the group. But hark, following a faulty attempt at rigging the game of darts, a new approach must be necessary.

They turn their sights on a game of strength. Using their wits and a bit of jiggling, they wait and see if they can get the whole thing to come crashing down. Before they can enact their daring plan, however, the crier comes out with news most foul: a gunman loose in the park! This new tragedy brings a wash of terror throughout the mild mannered carnival goers, but it won’t stop our heroes, no siree!

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