A subtle undulation of the land forms an curious, natural spiral in the open ground. One side of the formation rises to create a half-circle or crescent of earth surrounding and encompassing the spiral. The ground is littered with rock and flagstones, both large and small. Someone has carefully gathered up a trove of these and erected a clear fire pit. Flagstones with smooth surfaces have been laid along the upper lip of half circle of earth around the fire pit, turning it into a nice seating area. All debris and flammable material's been removed from within the spiral, and a fire has been laid. Just beyond the spiral's edge, wood has been collected and piled for future use. Surrounding this, the rugged walls of the canyon have been half buried by the Wyld surge, making the upper slope of the valley more gentle than it was before. Stands of Douglas fir and white pines mix with hemlock, lodgepole pines, and western larch trees to fill much of the open space, but the trees here are not nearly as dense as they are in the surrounding forests of the bawn. The sparse woods allows a partial view of the sky, and both sun and moonlight filter down to create enigmatic and beautiful shadow patterns on the forest floor. That floor is blanketed with a thick, soft rug of shed pine needles, lichen and leaf debris. The moss-covered relics of old, dead trees occasionally mark a place where once great sentinels loomed above.
The caern expands in two directions from here. The escarpment wall and raised dais form one point of the new triangle, while the center of the caern and its gigantic, Wyld-influenced tree marks the other. The only obvious way out of the caern is the valley slope that leads to the central bawn.
Compact is the word for him: wiry, maybe 5'6" in his beat-up black combat boots, with a sense of compressed energy and imminence like a coiled spring -- or a cocked gun. Never quite still for long, balance flowing through the balls of his feet. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-green eyes, the colour contrasting with his fair skin and spiky copper hair; just below the left is what at first appears to be a faint mole, but closer inspection reveals as a small, long-healed scar. His features are appealing, with high cheekbones and a good jawline, but it's the confident mien and roguish smile that most often seem to draw people in.
He's in a well-worn biker jacket of the traditional sort, all fairly closely fit black leather and silvery zippers and snaps. Beneath it, he's got old black jeans with a rip in one knee and the cuffs half walked off, with a faded black band t-shirt ('Anarchy Burger - Hold the Government', parodying the In-N-Out sign) under an open dark red hawaiian shirt. There's a couple leather-and-bead bracelets on one wrist and a length of ball-chain disappearing beneath his collar; his nails were apparently painted black some time ago, since they're starting to show chips. Late teens, most likely, and when he speaks it's in a mellifluous, southern-accented baritone voice.
This thin, wiry, short (5'6"), and moderately attractive man is probably just on either side of 40. His dark brown hair is of medium length and minimally styled, with the occasional pure white strand intruding--grey having been skipped entirely.
Nicodemus is currently wearing loose-fitting blue jeans and a grey long-sleeved shirt. The exceptionally perceptive might notice his pants do not quite hang naturally over his right ankle. A charcoal gray longcoat envelopes his form, shields him from the weather, and masks much of his body language and movements. His hands are protected by brown leather gloves. There's a whiff of wood-smoke and ozone lingering in the air about him, possibly from an expensive cologne.
When he moves, it is with grace, fluidity, and sure-footedness; this is a man who does not spend his days sitting at a desk and his nights sprawled on a couch. When idle, he seems alert and focused, yet somehow simultaneously introspective.
This short, skinny white kid is only a few inches over five feet tall and looks to be around twelve or thirteen years old. His straight black hair is cut in a basic, functional style that requires little maintenance -- super-short on the back and sides and only slightly longer on top. He's got a thin face with a beaky nose, thick eyebrows, and dark brown eyes. He's not a bad-looking kid, quite the opposite, but there's still something about him that makes most normal people uneasy, a feeling of potential violence, of predatory intensity.
He's typically dressed in jeans and t-shirt and sneakers, typical casual kid-wear, with a grey hooded jacket for outdoors. Apart from the footwear, his clothing is all a little bit too big on him, but one might imagine that he'll grow into it in a year or so.
Nick and Salem are seated around the fire pit, talking. "It was getting close. I could sense it coming. Which is one of the reasons I got out as soon as possible. I'm frankly stunned it didn't trigger shortly after I left. Hell, I got out the door, got into my car, and got a block away before trying anything. I was afraid the riot was going to spill out into the street almost on my heels."
Salem nods slowly. "I'm wondering, honestly, why the glyph /didn't/ trigger, but then I haven't studied the so-called 'Spiral Revolution' mechanism as closely as I could have." He shifts his weight, stretches his legs out toward the fire. "Christ, it seems long ago that we first heard about that."
"You didn't do something to defuse it? What all happened after I left?" Nick inquires quizzically, perhaps searching for clues.
Salem idly fingers the new tear in the left knee of his jeans, scratching off flakes of dried blood. "Justin and Felix started spraypainting over it and got called out by the DJ and some of the crowd, who called them sellouts and whatnot. The DJ kept talking a lot of revolutionary shit about fatcats and oligarchs and... well, nothing that isn't rightfully /true/, but you know. Felix put up a good defense, talking about dancing, even dance as its own kind of revolution. His words, plus the DJ's music getting, well, /sabotaged/--" The young halfmoon grins crookedly. "--calmed down the crowd. That, and Justin finishing up his counter-art and leaving with me."
"...doorsteps of those armies of salvation, wastin' time in the unemployment lines, sittin' around waitin' for a promotion," comes wafting soulfully along in the air, volume increasing until there's a visible redhead attached to it, heading into the caern at a casual saunter. Felix pauses to take something tiny out of his jacket pocket and hide it most of the way under a rock before he moves further into the caern, which seems to be when he notices the others at the firepit. "Evenin'!" he calls, song breaking off, and heads in their direction.
"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Nick says as he identifies the newcomer. "We were just talking about you and theorizing that maybe you having disrupted the DJ the other night might have prevented a riot from happening." He then snaps his fingers, despite them being encased in leather gloves. "Blood was missing. I wonder if spilling blood as an act of violence triggers those glyphs?" He glances over at Felix. "Pie in the sky speculation on my part, but you read about blood being important in rituals and you see it all the time on TV, so maybe there's something to it?" A second thought occurs to him. "And maybe if whatever they're doing to get people to riot.... Maybe if it can be disrupted a bit, it can be refocused. Like what if that DJ got the crowd all riled up to fight The Man, and then someone stepped in and convinced the crowd that The Man was Queen's Tower, would they riot on that building?" He then dismisses all of his speculations with a shake of his head and a wave of his arm. "No, that's stupid. They wouldn't do anything to solve the problem. They'd only break some windows and spraypaint some walls."
"And possibly get killed," Salem adds. He gives Felix a wave. "Excellent speech the other night, by the way."
Felix grins at Nick's greeting, and drops down onto one of the logs to listen. The refocusing idea gets a blink, and an unusually (well, for him) thoughtful look. "I dunno," he says, "maybe that IS all they'd actually do, but it'd sure give the Tower folks another place to be suspectin' when we take the place down..." He glances to Salem's addition and grants, "...an' possibly get killed. 'course they'd possibly get killed riotin' anywhere, ain't a lotta bloodless revolutions far's I ever heard. But yeah, prolly ain't exactly ideal." Another grin, "An' thanks. That was fun. Also, I got a little info for ya. DJ goes by Blue, big ol' shock there, an' his real name, or any other names, ain't floatin' about. Club pays him cash on the nights he performs, which he's been doin' there 'bout a month, off an' on. He's been around the city a li'l longer, though, an' word has him bein' attached to the Spiral Revolution protests, or at least a big fan, which I don't reckon's much of a shock either, but yeah, last night wasn't the first time he was talkin' it up on stage. Some folks think he oughta shut up an' spin, but there's kinda a lotta people seemin' down with it."
Nicodemus looks curiously at Felix as this information comes out. "Alicia will want that information as soon as you can get it to her. She's hoping to Dreamwalk that DJ. Another idea? Figure out when he next DJs and put a tail on him when he leaves the club. Of course, they might be expecting that, too. I suspect you might have tipped your hands at the club. Maybe not, though."
Salem leans back on his hands. "Justin and Felix are almost certainly made. Me too, possibly. Likely. A Ragabash is better for tailing someone anyway. Or someone like Val, who can follow from above."
"I'll catch her soon's I can," Felix assures, "but if you do first..." He stretches, glancing up toward the sky, then back down. "Yeah, I reckon we'd be on their radar. But like you say, there's better folks for it anyhow." The three are all seated by the firepit, talking.
Nicodemus points a gloved hand at Salem. "Good call. Val'd be excellent for tailing them and super-hard for them to spot. Maybe have a few people hanging out nearby for backup, just in case she needs it."
"Yes, exactly," Salem says, nodding to Nicodemus. "In the meantime..." He sits up, sitting crosslegged. "Hmm." He lapses into silence, thinking. Or distracted.
"Hey guys!" Justin calls out as he lumbers into view, throwing a hand up to give a wave to the three. "Looks like I'm not the only one who got bored enough to chillax out in the woods, huh?"
"Yo, J!" Felix calls back to his packmate, lifting a hand in return to the wave. "We're talkin' 'bout the Spirals from the club some. Which, I got a bit of info on the DJ asshole, but not exactly his housekey or nothin'. He's goin' by Blue, no one's got his real name. Been there on an' off about a month, got ties to the Spiral Revolution thing. So, y'know, no surprises. 'sup?"
Nicodemus nods to Justin and then asides, loud enough for others to hear, to Salem. "Tell Val to be careful, though. They might be expecting a tail tracking them back to their hideout--or what passes as one. Remember the tenement when we left it, right?"
Salem nods to Nick. "Most people don't look up when they're worried about a tail, though. Even knowing that Corax exist."
"Blue, huh? That's real fucking original. What an asshole." Justin says as he lounges next to the Galliard. "So you guys are sending super bird after them? That's cool. Hopefully she pecks their eyes out or whatever it is that they do. Can she drop acid shits on them from above?"
"I know, ain't it?" Felix agrees, shaking his head, and Justin's question makes him laugh. "Shit, that'd be an awesome talent. Think people get pissed about birds crappin' on 'em normal-like... but I think the idea's just recon, 'least this time. I mean if one bird could just go take out a handful of Spirals at once what'd Gaia need us for?"
Nicodemus smiles faintly at Felix's words, but then turns back to Salem. "I'm less worried about her getting noticed and more worried about her pressing her luck and maybe going into wherever it is the Spiral leads her. It's the perfect setup for a trap--if those spirals have two brain cells between them to bang together and get a spark, that is."
"Which they almost certainly do," Salem says, his expression somber. "At least Blue seems to, and that woman who was whispering to him. The bruiser arguing with the bouncer... who knows. He follows orders, though, and that's certainly enough."
"I hope whatever information she gets can allow me to get some hits in." Justin says as he gives his friend a shoulder bump. "I can't wait to get some licks in on one of those assholes."
Felix watches the others while they talk, and gives Justin a grin at the bump. "We find out enough shit, maybe =we= can trap =them=. ...an' then hit them, a lot. Fuckers." He glances to Salem. "Hey. You said those glyphs can be booby trapped to cause frenzies, right? Only if you try destroyin' 'em, though, right?"
Nicodemus looks from Felix to Salem, but otherwise stays silent, as he's clearly not the knowledgeable one when it comes to these glyphs.
Salem's brow furrows. "I could have sworn they were triggered by proximity, but..." He frowns and scruffs fingers through short black hair. "It's honestly been a long time since people were last talking about it."
"I thought it was by proximity also." Justin says with a yawn as he covers his mouth with his hand. "If recall, when we would destroy one, another would pop up almost immediately. Right?"
"What, like if we just get near 'em?" Felix says, blinking, "Shit, if I was them I'd be taggin' the whole town. ...although prolly it'd be some kinda rite, I reckon. Might be tirin'." He looks to Justin, tilting his head, "...automatically? I mean, like they didn't hafta do nothin', it just popped itself up somewhere else? How long ago was this shit happenin' before?" Sometimes being relatively new to the area kind of sucks.
"About two years ago, give or take," Nick says in response to Felix's question. "The Walkers developed a map of where they'd been placed in the city by having Rina ride up and down the streets with video cameras taking pictures, and then I repurposed some facial recognition software to identify the glyphs. We paired it all up with a GPS system that tagged each image to get an overlay and passed the information on in the hopes that it might mean something to someone. I can go dig up those files again when I get home tomorrowish." Judging by the light hiking pack not too far away, Nick'd come prepared to spend the night.
"I... vaguely remember that." Salem frowns, looking down at his hands, brow furrowed. "I wonder what's prompted them to start back up now. Presuming that glyph on the wall actually was a triggering glyph and not just bait to draw one of us out."
"It was a triggering glyph." Justin confirms to them. "I almost lost my shit right there in the room, which is why I high tailed it out. When I was painting it, I could feel the beast tug in my throat and I came close to frenzying."
Felix glances to Justin. "Well, that woulda been awkward," he rather understates. "Didn't affect me much, I don't think, but I ain't the one who dissed it first. Place was definitely startin' to feel like shit might kick off, though..." He leans back a bit on his hands. "I prolly won't be able to make head nor tail of files, but I wouldn't mind seein' 'em anyhow. So what prompted 'em to =stop=, back then, then? Y'all just plain wipe out the ones was doin' it?"
"I doubt it was anything we did." Well that wasn't very positive. "Probably the Ooze started hitting them and winning," Nick says, sharing information that was recently distributed widely at the new moon moot. "They probably fell back, attacked it, lost and retreated, lost focus, and went into survival mode. Which means they've either just recently figured out a way to push the ooze back and fight it, or they've got some reinforcements in and are trying to hit the reset button that'll tank this city like they'd intended earlier--like what happened in cities elsewhere around the US."
Salem's frown deepens when Justin confirms the glyph's power. Nick's words don't make his expression lighten up either. "We'll have to keep an eye out, see if those damn glyphs pop up anywhere else in the city."
"I'll watch," Felix says, and grins as he offers, "You want, I can go make sure it ain't poppin' up somehow in any of the other clubs, too." Although the lack of spray painting walls in those does presumably lower the odds. He goes a little more serious. "Seems to me them usin' the same tactic as everywhere ain't the brightest thing. I mean, unless we're parta the riots or tryin' to stop 'em, an' given we know what they're cover for I reckon we wouldn't do either, I don't rightly see how those happenin' affects us bein' able to smack 'em down if they came for the caern."
"Queens, drones, hives," Nick says out of nowhere. "Bees. They follow a pattern. And unfortunately it's been a damn successful pattern because it's resulted in a number of caerns falling from what I've heard. And if we can figure that one thing out, maybe it'll help all these other places." He looks to Salem. "Think Rina might be up to driving the city again with that video GPS rig I'd put together for her? It might be insightful to compare the old map overlayed with the new one. See if there's been any drift and, if so, perhaps a pattern behind that drift?"
"I don't see why not," Salem says, shifting his weight forward and up; he's back on his feet and brushing dirt off himself. "She can put eyes on the clubs, too, along with Felix."
"We ain't bees, though," Felix says, "...which is maybe what I'm kinda sayin', 'cause if we know the pattern we oughta be able to break it. I mean, someone says they need you somewhere an' you know it's to get you away from somethin' else important, you just... don't go. So how come after the first couple-few times it's still been workin'? I know there's gotta've been plenty of folks smarter'n me at those caerns, so... what'm I missing?"
"Everyone's missing the connections," Nick claims, mild levels of frustration creeping into his voice and body gestures. "We have too many questions and far too few answers. If we can get some more puzzle pieces together, maybe it'll start to make sense. But we're missing some really basic stuff, like 'why the cities they picked?' and 'what is the goal they're trying to achieve?' and 'where did they all come from?'"
Salem gives a grimace and a shrug. "God only knows. I remember one theory involved this all being part of some kind of ur-ritual to summon one of the heads of the Wyrm, but that seems rather far-fetched now. Even if that /was/ the goal, it's obviously failed. So, why bring the glyphs and the revolutionary talk back now? Just to sow some chaos? That wouldn't be out of character for Black Spiral Dancers. Also, are other cities, the ones that resisted the way we did, seeing glyphs pop up again?"
Felix looks from one of them to the other, and nods slowly. "I kinda just figured fuckin' up the caerns WAS what they were tryin' to achieve, but if it is somethin' bigger... So who knows who to ask about any of the other stuff, I guess that's the next thing to figure out." He makes a face, and stretches. "Prolly ain't exactly info floatin' around town, but I'll keep an ear out anyhow. An' an eye for those glyphs. Hopefully not from too close up."
Nicodemus grunts in agreement with Felix about staying clear of them as he stands and collects a nearby light hiking pack. Seems like he'd planned on overnighting in the woods in the winter as it's quite a hike back in the dark at night and when limited to just two legs. "I'm going to go set up my hammock and turn in. I'm beat, but I have a feeling my brain is going to be mulling this over in my dreams. Catch you two later. And good work the other day, Felix, in throwing DJ Dumbass off of his groove."
Salem utters a short 'heh' at "DJ Dumbass". "Likewise. Be seeing you." He heads off at a jog, shifting smoothly to lupus without losing a step, and vanishes into the woods at speed.
Nicodemus heads into the woods, on two legs, grumbling something about cheaters as he goes to set up camp under some pine trees a few hundred feet outside of the caern.