I'll Find You

[Administrator] Callista Alexander, welcome to General Chicago (Night)

[Administrator] Kim Jenkins, welcome to General Chicago (Night)

[Administrator] Elizabeth Zhao, welcome to General Chicago (Night)

[Administrator] Arcanum, welcome to General Chicago (Night)

[Arcanum] Wednesday night, the 23rd, isn't precisely the kind of weather one would welcome for an outside... gathering. Far from it, really. The sky is heavily overcast, raining steadily and the temperatures are barely in the 40s. Then again, after a Winter the likes of which Chicago has just gone through, the fact that it is rain and not snow; that the temperature is high enough to avoid wind gusts that people new to the city erroneously thought didn't exist outside of Antarctica or the very least Canada...

With lingering chilly temps and the slushy, sodden, soggy streets [squish-squash under foot and the wind still renders umbrellas just about useless], most people are out-of-doors only from the necessity of traversing from point A to point B. Not so, however, in a small, forgotten park just barely within the boundaries of the Wicker Park community area. Which makes it just north of West Division street, yes that street, in that area, where disasters struck, freak weather, strange visions, eerie occurrences... the presence of police officers and National Guardsmen both. This park is just outside that boundary where the nights curfew is already in effect. Just outside in a small, wooded space -- Chicago is full of random surprises of small forests and nature preserves smack-dab in the middle of an otherwise bustling metropolis.

Here in this normally quiet, scraggly, ill-kept, unkempt park -- no one even really remembers the name anymore though on older maps of the city it is marked as Ellsworth Park -- there is [as Molly's scrying - aided by Elizabeth and verified by Callista -revealed] a run down fountain, once a thing of Gothic grandeur. A tribute to Poseidon in his marriage to Amphitrite, another ancient sea-goddess, daughter of Nereus and Doris. The fountain hasn't worked in.. decades probably. Just as forlorn and left behind as the rest of the place that has become instead a den for drug deals; drug highs [and lows], illicit sexual encounters... seediness and far worse. Just yesterday they'd have found the place a wreck of trash, wasted needles, discarded condoms, lost things, stolen things and the fountain defiled with filth and sported all manner of colourful graffiti...

...someone [many someones] has cleaned it up. It's far from perfect but no where near the wreckage it so recently was, this dark hidden spot just behind one of Chicago's most opulent and bloated neighbourhoods. Graffiti scrubbed away and painted over; rubbish cleaned up at least in a large radius around the fountain itself. Creeping fines and overgrowth remain though: It's among all these where They have gathered. The faithful? The needy? This strange cult that's taken its ailing roots and sprung up fresh and new around a Sending some have dubbed the Black Madonna -- as fitting a name as any, really. Here the followers of the Way, the Bearers of the Message, have gathered in their robes: Dark colours for the women and their lighter counterparts for the men. Even some of the children - yes, there are children out in the cold rain - sport their own robes. Around the fountain women and children are weaving garlands of carnations in the manner of celebrations in India. Around them groups of men speak: They gesticulate, they argue, they make proclamations. They speak of their triumphs; they curse their persecutions.

Throughout it is all there is a sense of anticipation of the promise of exhilaration of righteousness and it's sinister counterparts of pride and greed. Of hope and desperation and the thrill of community that can do great things.... great or horrible things.

It is all the makings of a mob.
Quick... someone look for the kool-aid.

[Administrator] Molly Quincannon, welcome to General Chicago (Night)

[Molly Quincannon] Molly's gone a little further than the robes for this particular occasion. She likes not being recognised, and she's got no way of knowing what this Sending - or any of the people in the crowd - have seen of her. Plus she doesn't want herself associated with ... well, those people, any more than she can help. She still has one of Israel's Spa Day charms back at the Lafette, which will fix whatever atrocities she does to ... for example, her hair, which she has cut into a ragged sort of bob with a pair of kitchen scissors and dyed a sort of a deep plum colour. Acid-green contacts, robe, staff ... she feels a little like a Night Elf when she meets up with the others at a convenient point outside of the main crush. She's told her comrades to look for the staff. It's the only way she's going to be recognised at this point. She has set up no rotes, has no Wonders, and feels just a little bit weird about going into a situation with nothing but her mundane skills to back her up. It's been awhile.

So this is undercover work. Awesome.

[Callista Alexander] Ahh, the infamous Chicago Weather. Cold and wet, when it isn't colder and snowing. Callista's first experience of the end of winter/start of spring in the city. She's been relatively fortunate so far, managing to arrive in the city after the furious snowstorms of the winter. Something to look forward to experiencing later(!).

After being unsure of whether she'd come - whether she would actually be any use to anyone - she has indeed come along. Molly had advised trying to get hold of some kind of robes, a useful disguise to get amongst the cultists. She had managed to find a fabric store in Chinatown selling a decent, pale orange cotton material. Enough had been bought to put together some reasonably-looking robes. She'd also included a hood, enough to disguise the presence of her hair and shield her features a little. It didn't hurt that it also gave a little protection from the wind and rain.

Just in case, she'd dressed for the occasion underneath the robe. Decent walking boots, some black combats and a black hoody. Just in case. The robe doesn't seem like the kind of thing to be running away in.

Rather than head straight on in, she's been hanging around one of the gates to the park. Otherwise how on earth would they find each other?

[Elizabeth Zhao] The Akashic slips her way along, meeting up with Molly. If there's one thing Elizabeth can do well, it is wear robes. It is not her usual mode of dress, but she has been no stranger to it during her time within the Akashayana Sangha. Underneath are her usual clothes...the tank top, the pants that provide ease of movement. She may well need that ease of movement by the time they are done tonight. She moves as inconspicuously as she can, her hair pinned back with a pair of sticks underneath said robe to keep it out of her face. The last thing she needs is a loss of visibility at some crucial moment.

She notes the staff and gives a quick, subtle glance around before she moves in a roundabout way over to the Cultist. A slight nod as she approaches.

[Kim Jenkins] Kim was there, at the appointed place and time. Maybe a little early, maybe a little anxious. She preteneded that she wasn't, having long ago come to an understanding about anxiety. It simply didn't matter, what was going to be done would be done, whether she felt good about it or not. Instead she channeled it into something more useful, more beneficial. Besides, someone told her along the way, anxiety is merely another form of excitement. Kim was excited alright, Kim was very excited. This had all the makings of an epic (and dangerous) evening. Dark raining nights, strange creatures of magikal power, and cultists galore.

Dark hair (no blonde roots this time) was pulled back under a dark brown (coyote tan, they called it these days) hooded jacket, one of those all-weather, breathable, water resistant softshells that were the darling of outdoor community these days. Baggy enough to conceal whatever was hidden underneath it (and there was stuff under it), but slim enough not to be an encumberance. A similar pair of cargo pants (these in a darker blue) and some comfortable hiking boots. The usual sling-bag of tricks was there, but that was expected.

Blue eyes peer out from beneath the hood, the intense gaze meeting the others.

"Hey."

[Callista Alexander] ((Oops, slight costume change - got the men and women mixed up. Calli's in dark orange, not pale orange.))

[Arcanum] It is not so very long before they are noticed, of course. A trio of men closer to the gate than the others take notice of the small group of women, three of them in robes, one not... they can all feel the looks of scrutiny and speculation. A cult must, of course, seek to gain converts. It is the essence of such societies, though many differ in how open and eager they are about recruitment. Part and partial to seeking 'coverts' or 'members', though, is eternal suspicion. Who is a true believer? Who is loyal and devoted? Who are the weak who need to be watched and tended [and, possibly, pruned?? Such groups start off generally as cults of personality: A central leader. A prophet, a saviour, a grand master, what have you. Over time as the group gains age and grows this develops into something more...

...some might say it can eventually even lead to the development of major religions, but that is neither here nor there [or is it?]

Yes, the four young [none of them as yet even in their 30s] are scrutinized... then one of the men splits makes towards them, followed [flanked] by the other two. The man in the lead is.... short. Not average in height but short. A bulldog of a man, with a tan face and eyes the blue-grey of dishwater. A captains beard, head bald as most of the others, the rain - now light - running down his dome in rivulets. He smiles and it is really quite a charming smile: His teeth even and white, though his chin is weak and the warmth in his eyes is a reflected veneer.
"Evening, sisters..." his gaze sweeps over them, "Praise Be to She that you've chosen to join us." He looks towards Kim who does not wear a robe... no doubt looks u at her somewhat which robs some of the gentle effect he's striving for [he avoids looking up at the giantess Callista at all]. "May you find enlightenment here." Then his shifts his attention to Molly.. eyes the staff and frowns for a moment [a grimace, almost half a snarl] then forces back a kindly smile. "What need has a woman for a weapon, sister? Don't you know your Mother and your brothers will never let harm come to you? Or if you are lame, don't you have faith that you will be healed?"
Another of the men - older, the hair of his own beard liberally splashed with grey - makes more of an open show of his aloofness, "The women are preparing garlands there," waving a hand towards the fountains. Entirely dismissive. Entirely get in line.

In the dark and the rain so far neither Molly or Elizabeth see the man and little girl from earlier scrying...

[Molly Quincannon] [[OH NO YOU DI'ENT - WP]]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Kim Jenkins] No one mentioned anything to her about robes. Which was good, because she didn't like the idea of wearing them. There was a common thread in all her readings of those that had gone before, and that was cultists were expendable. No-one really seemed to ever get punished for killing them, except when you killed too many, whatever that magic number was. Kim wasn't planning on killing anyone, that work was well above her current pay grade.

Which isn't to say that she wasn't prepared for it. Or that she would have any problem doing it. A dangerous line of reasoning, but she was a Death Mage, which has implications. Kim wondered what it would be like, how it would happen, when it would happen. She'd seen a lot of people die, herself even, but she'd never been on the sending end. Maybe shorty here is gonna be the first one.

Careful with that line of logic. She exchanges glances with Elizabeth, and then carefully turns her gaze to Shorty. She doesn't quite know Molly well enough to assume that she would go crazy with the staff, but assumptions were dangerous things.

"Garlands?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly's expression had been pretty pleasant up until the bit about gender segregation and everything else, and thankfully, it rather remains that way, if a little ... frozen, like it's being maintained with something of an effort. Thankfully, the robes hide the stiffening of her body and long sleeves hide the clenched fists. Her response? "It is to be discarded before the Faithful, sir. In token of the impending end to a need for such things."

Then, still with that smile that wants so much to be a twitch, and still in that mild tone, she asks, "Is there a need for such questions among us? Surely there is trust and inclusivity among Her worshippers." It's an effort to make the 'her' capital (fucking uppity voicemail message from beyond the sanity continuum), but she expends it. "We are all surely equal in Her eyes."

[Callista Alexander] Callista doesn't take the lack of his attention personally. It's certainly harder to intimidate people when they're rather taller than you, and he seems to be going for the easier targets. It looks like there may be trouble brewing, though. Still new to these people - newer to some than others - she's not sure how likely they are to explode at provocation. So she intervenes.

"Thank you for your warm welcome, brother." She takes a step towards the little man, forcing him to look up at her. She bows her head in respect, though. "Aren't we all welcome in Her glorious presence this evening? After tonight, all of their doubts will be erased by the events of the evening. So where is the harm in allowing her a little doubt?"

Assuming he doesn't insist on making a bit deal of Molly's staff, Callista gives another bow. "We'll take our places you have so kindly guided us to. May She smile down on you, this auspicious evening." She gestures for the other women to lead the way.

[Elizabeth Zhao] The Akashic looks over at Kim, meeting her gaze. She did not know what was going through the other's thoughts, though perhaps there was a touch of wariness there. It's gone quickly, just an instinct; with Jonathon closer to the surface thanks to certain recently-discovered filial obligations coming to light, Cheng Li is back just a bit and that suppresses her instinctual issues regarding the Euthanatoi. Instead there is a quick smile that replaces the wariness, brief but there, before she looks back.

She lets Molly do the talking and instead subtly casts her vision around, keeping an eye out. She has a granddaughter who needs her.

...wow, that's wierd for even the Akashic to think about, and she's used to this shit.

[Callista Alexander] ((Sorry, clarification - Callista's not sure how the other Awakened will react to provocation))

[Callista Alexander] ((manip+Expression))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 6, 7, 10 (Failure at target 7)

[Arcanum] [[Charisma+Expression]]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 5) [WP]

[Arcanum] The older man - Openly Aloof - looks back at Kim at her single word query; but he doesn't seem all that suspicious of it: After all, if she was 'initiated' she'd wear the robes and there's the matter of shriven hair. "Yes, garlands. To adorn Our Lady and one another in celebration of how we've all taken up the mantel of the Message and the Way." A beat -- he waves a hand towards the women again, patronizing. "Please, the women will answer your questions as like unto like."

The short, blocky man - Thinly Contemptuous - spares Kim another glance as Openly Aloof addresses her; but his attention is soon diverted to Molly and Callista: His smile becoming thinner and thinner, his eyes narrowing slightly, suspicions rising. "Who initiated you, sisters?" And he turns then, not to Openly Aloof but to the third among them who has thus far been silently observant. "Brother Absalom, this is what I'm talking about: How can we be unified if we're sending out Fishermen without the firm grounding to teach the Message clearly? Surely this is a matter we must take up with the Mother tonight..."

"Peace, brother, peace." The third mans hood is pulled up over his head and is deep, rather disconcertingly hiding his face from view. But now he reaches up gloved hands to push it back revealing a handsome face to suit a smooth, deep voice... and skin so milky white as to mark him nearly an albino. His eyes are not red, they are brown, though that could be corrective lenses. His smile is the comb from which the honey of his words slip. "She comes to lift the Veil and these good ladies show good faith to come among us, whatever path they took to arrive, no matter the strengths or weaknesses of those who lit the Lamp. Please, good sister," he holds one gloved hand out towards Molly, "Please, give me the staff. When the time comes for offerings I will let you be the first to take it before Our Lady."

He smiles without hint or trace of condescension or ulterior motive, "Let there not be contention between us."

[Molly Quincannon] On the one hand, Molly does not want to give up her weapon. On the other hand, any good-sized length of wood or metal will do, and she's about as good with her fists anyway. Plus it means, apparently, that she's got a chance to be presented to this uppity voicemail, rather than just relying on hope and luck to get a glimpse when things go South. That's worth the price of a quarterstaff (because of course she's getting out of here alive). So she smiles, nods and hands the staff over. "Thank you; it is good to see that courtesy does not turn to ash in the flames of faith."

Callista gets a bit of a look out of the corner of her eye, however. It's not angry, but it is a bit wry, as one who should say, If I don't get it back, you owe me a new one for stepping on my lines, my friend.

[Administrator] Elizabeth Zhao, welcome to General Chicago (Night)

[Kimberly Jenkins] "Great! Thank you for pointing me the way."

The patronization didn't bother her. She'd been patronized by far more important people than this guy, in certianly far more patronizing tones. Instead she smiles happily with a tilt of her head and a lift of her eyebrows. She hadn't been completely briefed on whatever Molly's plan was, and the more that she got to know her, the more Kim thought that maybe the sort of planning she engaged in wasn't necessarily sound. But she did trust the gril, that's what was important.

Something else was important, Kim had an opportunity, an opening. And a good reaction, certainly a better one than the others had gotten. Ducking her head down, sending rivelts of water cascading off her hood, silently moving away from the others, towards the women busy with the garlands. But not before she gets a good look at 'Brother Absalom.' Immediately he moves to priority one on the potential target list. An albino! In a cult! Shit, she things to herself, it doesn't get any easier with that. He may as well wear a sign that says 'Shoot Me First.'

[Callista Alexander] There is a name Callista could give, and it would be a genuine one. It just has the drawback that the owner is currently in a freezer in the city Coroner's office; a fact that these gentlemen are probably well aware of. Thankfully, the predicament is swiftly averted by another of the brothers. A face that she's sure she hasn't seen before - features like those would certainly stick in the mind.

So her attention moves to the albino man as he speaks, a smooth, charismatic voice carrying the conviction of his words. She gives another bow, deeper this time, to the third man. "My apologies if my words caused any disharmony between us. It certainly wasn't my intent. By your leave, we'll join those preparing for tonight's inspiring events."

[Elizabeth Zhao] There are advantages to being the shortest one--you get the least amount of attention. Especially when the rest of them do the talking, and you stay quiet and alert. She lets the other three women keep the attention of the cultists while she keeps her eyes out...perhaps one could intuit that she is just looking around at the activity of the cultists and appreciating the group's industriousness. Instead, she is keeping an eye out not only for her sort-of-descendent, but for the face of the man who she saw holding the girl's hand.

One of the other will lead them to their goal.

[Molly Quincannon] [[Perc + Alert!]]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Elizabeth Zhao]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Arcanum] With a slight bow of his head this Brother Absalom [an albino -- or at least close to -- with a name like absalom who seems to hold some clout (and now a staff!) just can't be good] takes the staff and gives the same gracious gesture to the other three women. He then steps courteously aside to allow the women passage. Openly Aloof and Thinly Contemptuous follow suit though with far less grace than their fellow.

Onward then, presumably towards the fountain where the women and most of the children are gathered; making garlands of bright, richly coloured carnations in the moderate rain. By and large they seem... energetic, if not truly festive or content. There lacks that air of true, positive joy in this gathering. The energy here is present and strong but to call it positive would be erroneous. To call it purely 'negative' too simple. It is energy on the cusp, as yet unleashed, as yet undetermined; awaiting catalyst and direction.

As they move through the others: Mostly men gathered in those small groups, here and there a single person just milling about, waiting, watching, maybe just-slightly nervous looking [a fine line between nervous and anticipating], Molly - with Elizabeth just a touch behind - notices the girl's father: He's moving in their opposite direction and it's only after he makes it past one such group of men that they see the little girl, dressed in a white [most of the children - boys and girls alike - tend to be dressed in white/i]] dress and jacket and looking, frankly, grumpy and miserable and unnerved to be here. Holding her father's hand, he's heading right towards where the four woman just left: Towards Absalom and the other two.

It'll prove difficult to intercept them in any subtle manner and no doubt expose them too more suspicion and questions if they beeline back to the trio... but at least now they have their 'mark' in sight, the pieces falling into place.

There isn't much time to do more than come to a halt among the garland making women or near them or whatever it is the group chooses. Soon enough the 'meeting' is coming to order and people rise, moving to stand en masse before the fountain, men and women intermingled rather than segregated as they might have expected after some of the rhetoric they heard from the two men with their charismatic leader... a leader indeed, for it is Absalom who comes to stand before them, back to the fountain and Poseidon's scowling visage. Smiling to all gathered - smoothly, warmly charismatic - he looks upwards, face splashed with the falling rain... and shakes his head.

"This will not do for our worship, will it?" Placid and deep, amiable. He knows just how to work a crowd, too, making eye contact with individuals, sweeping the whole. "Here then," and with the first explosive gesture or raise of volume they've seen/heard from him he sweeps his hands skyward [[i]the gloves are gone; the hands seem heavily textured in their paleness, like heads of scars -- healed burns?], "A gift from Our Lady!"

Watch now: The rain ceases, but not all at once. It starts over the man himself and then spreads outward to encompass the fountain behind and the people before him... look skyward and it's as if he's cast out a hemisphere over them, transparent but for the streaks of rain upon it, as if he's encased them all within a bubble.
Feel now: The distinctive pulse and oscillation of a Working, it s Resonance sharp and tangy, the touch of a battery to the tongue; the thrill of desires fulfilled and power granted. The rewarded servant. The good and faithful servant.

The crowd responds with applause and praise and the building press of adrenaline and anticipation.

"Is Our Lady good and worthy to be praised?!"

Yes, oh yes!, the resounding response...

[a little girl - the little girl - looks up at this strangeness, this wonder... then presses her face against her fathers leg.]

[Molly Quincannon] [[WP because ... well. This is just all wrong.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] Molly does not come across as a religious person. She seldom calls on gods, but it's not so much in the way of an atheist but as someone who believes in the gods the way people believe in the mailman. She knows they're there; she just doesn't give them a whole lot of credence because she was always taught that those were just the faces that people, Sleepers or otherwise, give to the Lakashim, the Divine Pulse - to her, a thing of joy and the better kinds of awe.

It's when such worship of a face given to such a force of peace and joy and life turns people scared of that force of life that she has a problem. And this place feels just a little bit like Waco must have done before the rot set in. But she holds her tongue - for now. If she's going to create a distraction that might get her mobbed, now is not yet the time. The fact that the rain stops at this man's command has her stifling yet more commentary (rain, like everything else, is a gift, a sensation to experience; surely Life can be celebrated in all its rainy, chilly glory ... and let's face it, right now she's just minded to despise everything about this anyway), and she balls her fists and bites her tongue, nearly hard enough to draw blood in both cases.

In a sense, though, it's all fairly helpful. She watches the girl, her father and the Brother who has her staff, now all conveniently in the same place ... and perhaps this all helps a little, at least in terms of her mood. She is Frantic, there are things that she wants and needs out of all this, and this Sending is attracted to that kind of desperation. So she lets that project ahead of the rage she feels, stays silent and watches as carefully as she knows how.

[Elizabeth Zhao] It affects the girl with the crowded soul more than she anticipated, seeing the little girl in white. Elizabeth is all about balance and restraint; reservation. Asceticism is not an easily life path to follow, but she has done well with it since her Awakening. Material possessions, earthly wants and desires…all of these have been generally flushed away for the most part. There have been challenges along the way but she has always overcome them. It is just her Way.

But here and now, seeing the young girl for the first time, she feels Jonathon pushing up. There is a sense of that's my blood that brushes through her expression, and she almost makes a move to nab her right there and then…damn the consequences. She holds off though, and the expression quickly fades away. It is replaced with stoicism, but there is a wavering look in her eye as she looks to Molly, to Callista and Kim.

For the girl's father, there is only wariness and a touch of anger. No one should betray a child thus. Especially not one of HER family.

She slips around as the groups start to mingle. She begins a low chant, quiet and murmured, focusing on it. She centers her Will on trying to make her easier to ignore, sending out specifically to Absalom and the girl's father…Ignore me. I am not important.

At least she's among cultists so if the chanting is noticed, it will seem so strange.

[[Mind 2: -2 Q for Diff]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 10 (Success x 3 at target 3) [WP]

[Molly Quincannon] [[Short addition]]

Though for all the silence and the desperation and the stifled fury, she's inching as decorously as she can towards the front of the gathering, towards Brother Absalom, ideally within reaching distance of one frightened-looking little girl.

[Elizabeth Zhao] [[It will NOT seem so strange.]]

[Callista Alexander] So, Callista heads towards the fountain with the other Awakened. Unlike two of the others, though, she's not so clear on who they're looking for. A young girl, with her father. So, distractedly picking up parts of a garland and tying them together, she looks around. Partly to keep an eye on the other awakened, partly to keep note of where the girls dressed-in-white are. Hopefully her distraction and observations aren't so out of place amongst the anxious loners in the crowd.

Then Absalom moves, speaks. Halts the rain, preparing for the celebration of the Sending. Molly's movement towards the man draws her attention. The cultist seems to have a purpose in her direction. Callista turns to watch, to listen.

[Kimberly Jenkins] Poseidon. The Earth-Shaker. She understands it now. She can feel the God of the Seas (angry) scowl upon her, and the Divine Union between herself and the gods of All Things. Of course He's angry. Once again, He's being pushed aside in favor of some other, lesser, diety. He wouldn't stand for such things, and His wrath could be severe. And it was that wrath she was planning on tapping into.

Kim didn't know the girl, didn't know her face, didn't know her father and only vaguely knew of her importance. It boiled down to one thing, she was told by someone that this girl needed to be retrieved, and her retrievers protected (and by default, the girl as well). She that's what she would do. Blue eyes flit around under her own hood for her friends, to vainly try and spot where they were, and their roles. She hoped they knew them.

This must be it. This is how it's gonna be.

[Arcanum] For now Absalom is the show, the shepherd, the anointed one [a title reserved for one true 'messiah' in Christianity, but also used, in root, for most holy of prophets and leaders in Judaism; variations of the same theme of which can of course be found in older and contemporary religions: the demigods, the heroes, the priests and priestesses.]. And his job is a simple one, especially after a display of his power [and perhaps he knows he isn't the only one commanding 'power' -- as Elizabeth works up a makeshift veil of obscurity for herself Absalom furrows his brows slightly and his eyes sweep the crowd though do not settle on her]. He's working the crowd. Working them up.

The words are clever and, from an occult stand point, well learned. He speaks of the End of this World - he even speaks of the turning of a great wheel at one point - but how an End is only and ever a Beginning for something else. [entropy, dynamism, pattern, decay: Wash. Rinse. Repeat.] He speaks of how an Armageddon is an Unveiling, the Great Revelations. He draws the most openly from Christian ideas because it is the common denominator among most of the gathered and their backgrounds. The savvy, the occult researches, the people [women] here from very different backgrounds hear and recognize other elements. Gnostic elements. Hellenistic elements. He draws on world-views that involve the Wheel Cycle and the endless turning towards Destruction: Hindu notes here and there; Norse mingling; Myan undertones. Oh, it's all skewed to sound less 'pagan' and underscore the common threads, but it's there alright and god damned if he isn't good at weaving it all together. Moreso, he isn't preaching a Good Word that amounts to hate mongering, blame game, etc.. not openly at least. Oh, he boosts their egos: Calls them the first of the Followers of the True Way; the Heralds and the Messengers. He speaks of their rewards for their faith - that which they've already experienced and more to come. But he doesn't claim an enemy to denigrate or rail against. No... no, their purpose is to ease the birth pangs of these new Days of Tribulation. Their purpose is the be the Shining Beacon, the Bastion of Hope and Healing and Prosperity....

All in the name of their Lady.
All in the name of the glorious Mother.
All in the name of She Who Comes In Twilight.

He beckons the women forwards to adorn the fountain with garlands and praise while the men call out their prayers, their adoration, their pledges.
The fever pitch is growing...
...growing until at last Absalom leaps up to the rim of the fountain with vigorous, youthful energy and raises his hands again. "Behold now, my brothers! My sisters! Our children! Behold now: Our Lady Messenger; Our Anointed Herald; Our Divine Mother!"

It's the stillness between the lightning strike and the crash of thunder. The breath between the sweet agony of building pleasure and then the sunburst exhilaration of climax. It's the child who awakens on Christmas morning and races for the tree. And it's the woman who focuses every iota of her being on the sound of their babes first wailing breath after the point-of-no-return of birthing.

She [It] appears, dressed tonight is robes of splendor, more Grecian than the clothing of those gathered here and in a diaphanous fabric that might just be spun of threads made from fire opals. She appears lounging in Poseidon's arms, larger than life and yet somehow still seeming all things feminine, all things Earth Mother, all things beyond sin and righteousness. She. Is. Mesmerizing. And the white of her teeth revealed in her smile, striking against the rich cocoa of her skin; a smile so utterly understanding; so achingly knowing. Drinking them all in with the heat of her golden eyes she then looks to Absalom before looking skyward...

[and it's gone. all of them expect Kimberly have felt it before: That sense that some kind of shield just slammed down between them and their Avatars. Awakened Portions they can feel only distantly and only uselessly as it flails...]

...Absalom bows his head [the gathered are on their knees if not outright prostrate on the damp, muddy ground] and lifts those scarred hands again. "My Lady of Twilight!"

The sky opens.
At least: A small portion of it does. Enough to let in twin columns of light down over the Sending: One the liquid gold of the Sun and the other the silver-white of the light of a full moon. One side of her bathed in warmth and glowing amber; the other awash in mercury sheen.

She scans the crowd again [and did they imagine it or did her gaze linger - just a moment - her lips quirk - just a second - on each of the four women here with their 'task'?] until her gaze settles on the little girl, the Mark... and one hand lifts, beckoning gracefully.

The girl is shaking; shaking and small; face pale with uncertainty and fear; head ducking under the gazes of those gathered... she clings to her father who hugs her once - brief and tight - then forces her hands loose and urges her forward... forward. To the fountain. Forward. Over the edge. Forward: through water and garlands. Forward: To stand before the Lady...

The crowd murmurs with need; with eagerness; with praises and hallelujahs and Lord n' Lady be Praised!...

[Molly Quincannon] The girl goes to stand before the 'Lady'. This entity plus water plus people equals bad to Molly. Mesmerising she may be, but Molly knows what she is. There has been nothing about this that she has not despised, and she has stifled it well. But now there needs to be a distraction; Elizabeth will want to keep that girl away from that Sending, but to get the girl, it would help if people's attention was ... elsewhere.

Ideally, she'd have slammed her staff on the ground, but she is without it. So instead, she just raises her voice. That, at least, she's fairly good at. She shoves her way to the front, and she says, clear as anything, "Y'know ... I liked your kind of deal a lot better when you stuck to 'Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi; you're my only hope', you uppity carrier pigeon that sanity forgot."

[Elizabeth Zhao] She's expecting it this time…she's less thrown by it. The loss of her Avatar, of course, causes that Effect to be ripped away…but hopefully, she's close enough. What affects her more is the connection to her past lives…it's almost physically painful to her, especially with Jonathon so close to the surface.

In truth, it is probably best for the mission, though. Elizabeth the Akashic would pause and deliberate…calculate. So many things to consider…the Tradition follows a very internalized style. They aren't rash or hot-headed; they don't rely on impulse like many do. Elizabeth the Akashic would probably consider for a moment too long, and then it would be too late.

Elizabeth the girl in an Akashic's body doesn't have that problem.

As soon as the girl is being pushed forward, Molly speaks. Elizabeth doesn't pause to see if the crowd turns their attention to her; she is hoping they are shocked into inaction for a moment. In that (hopeful) moment she rushes forward, shoving by the little girl's father. Her intent is to scoop up the girl and—not turn back around. A score of fanatics is behind her. She's aiming to run forward and to the right, along the edge of the fountain and away from those who wish the girl to Awaken into madness. Hopefully, the mass of cultists in the front will mean few to none on the other side, giving Elizabeth an avenue to escape. And with the focus on her then, the others will not become targets for the group's rage.

Ahh, fanatics. One thing you can always rely on—in the absence of an immediate order, they will follow their fanatical instincts.

[Kimberly Jenkins] What. Gloved fingers curl into tight fists, and her jaw sets, teeth grinding against one another as Kim grasps the full realization of what just happened here. It was gone! It was all gone! All of the years of endless and hopeless searching. The years of doubt and failure, they had all returned! It was impossible! She undergone the Agama Te, she had made the journey from the living to the dead to the living again.

She made them do it.

She made them kill her.

She brought herself back.

And now it was all wasted. All gone. The Wheel had stopped turning for her. All of that energy, the excitement, the Understanding, all of it gone. What was the point? The careful balance, the keep of the Wheel? There wasn't a point. Kim was angry, enraged by this. Higher thoughts and concepts were gone now, now there just was. Nothing. No friends, no child to save, no mission, no duty no purpose. Nothing. Nothing, but training, muscle memory and anger. Lots and lots of anger (Poseidon will not be denied).

Her left hand unclenches, lifts and quickly unzips a zipper on the right side of her jacket. A moment or so later, her right hand unclenches, lifts and disappears into the pocket. Fingers push against the snap holding the weapon (Yes) inplace just beneath the edge of her vest, forcing their way into the holster, a smooth motion later the Desert Eagle it out. Hands meet around the grip as dots line up in ordered sequence.

The albino is gonna get first. She may not be able to do anything about the Sending, but she could do a lot to a human being.

[Callista Alexander] A distraction. An escape. And a journalist, feeling suddenly out of her depth again, flailing in the crowd. So, what're the options? Run and hide? Help out Molly, who's probably about to get swamped? Help Elizabeth escape? Or something else?

A glance around, a moment of indecision. The girl. Elizabeth was doing her best to get away with her, but there wasn't anything to prevent her being chased. Nothing to stop the others catching up with her, overpowering them, bringing the girl back.

Question answered. Callista rushes to the side of the fountain, the side where Elizabeth had passed, intending to at least slow down any persuers. Hell, if nothing else there's be an unconscious body for them to trip over. Stopping, she drops into a stance. Feet apart and braced, arms relaxed and low, hands in gentle fists. All this remembered from training, but never used for real.

Fuck.

[Arcanum] Molly speaks up and, indeed, for a moment it causes a confused stillness in many of the gathered: Those closest around her at least. For all that she speaks loudly and clearly, many of these worshipers are too busy doing just that... worshiping. Those closest though are startled and look to her blankly... at first. [it won't last long]

Elizabeth is moving, but the Sending is powerful and - they know, they've felt it before - seems aware of those around her whose Enlightenment goes still, hushed, distant in her presence. Golden eyes sweep from the girl in the fountain, just out of reach, to Elizabeth, rushing forward... and she frowns. Frowns with, ah, such sorrow. Such incomprehension. As if the expression - for the instant in which it exists - says Why do you fight against that which you desire?. But there is no time wasted: With a breathed word in a language Molly and Callista at least have heard but do not themselves understand, the rim of the fountain rises up, creating at least a temporary wall, a barrier between the small Akashic and her goal... a goal which the Lady swoops down upon and draws up in an embrace that would be motherly... did the little girl not immediately stain her white dress yellow with a release of her bladder, an instinctive response to sheer terror. Her back arches.... she screams: Screams, eyes wide open. Screams... and babbles in that same Language that tickles at the deepest core of human consciousness, echoing back to ages forgotten when they, too, knew the potency of the Spirit within and the Spirits all around them.

-------------

Absalom is nonplussed. He knew there was something about these 'women' -- his focus is on Molly at first, but then there's the glint of metal and his gaze sweeps to Kimberly instead. He smiles, ah, that charming, honeyed smile... lifts his voice: "There are witches among us! Witches and servants of Shaitan! LET THE WILL OF THE MOTHER BE DONE!"

...a shimmering blue orb rises up around him, enveloping him.
And the gathered?
This Sending is their Savior: Their savior who grants all that they desire. Oh, some flee: Not yet fully in the grasp of this madness, they flee. But those utterly immersed into this Belief and their own Need?

A man screams: "Mother make me a weapon!" and grows, muscular and taller, nails turning into talons and lunges for Kimberly.
A woman wails: "The very ground rejects you!" and Molly can feel the earth beneath their feet shudder and rumble, groaning and giving.

Callista and Elizabeth at the fountain are not - at this moment - targeted, but the raised height of the fountain rim will have to be clamored over if they want to try and get to the girl in the grips of the Sending.

[Molly Quincannon] [[+5]]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6

[Arcanum] Absalom: +7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8

[Elizabeth Zhao] [[+6]]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10

[Arcanum] Sending: +9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6

[Callista Alexander] ((+6))
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8

[Arcanum] Man: +7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10

[Kimberly Jenkins] (Wits+Dex=7)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3 (Failure at target 6)

[Arcanum] [[Initiative Rolling Order [DECLARE IN REVERSE]:
Man
Liz
Sending
Absa
Calli
Molly
Kim

Declares: To keep combat from being a buncha rolls and no 'flare' at all, I allow players to post briefly a mood/descript of what their PC is doing/thinking/etc, followed by the actual declare in brackets. So like this:

[Jim] Jim thinks 'Holy shit, my spleen! AUGH!' and tries to level his gun on the bitch that just tore out his goddamned speen.
[[Split pool: 1a. Shoot bitch 1b. Shoot bitch again!]]

Then the rolls as per initiative order; then rinse and repeat!]]

[Kimberly Jenkins] Clearly focused on ending Absa's life, finger glides over the trigger, and she fires. Twice.

[Split pool, shoot the albino, shoot the albino again.]

[Molly Quincannon] Molly has bitten her tongue over this for far too long, and in the presence of the one she really wants to rail at, there's just no shutting her up now, even as she tries to run, jump or stagger out of the epicentre of the very directed earthquake under her feet (preferably away from Ms 'Make-Me-A-Weapon'): "STOP FREAKING THE MUNDANES BEFORE THEY'RE READY, YOU PIECE OF SPAM FROM LOONY-TUNESVILLE! AND GIVE BACK MY FRIENDS!"

Oh yeah. She knows Need too.

[[Getting away from the buckling ground, with reflexive yelling.]]

[Callista Alexander] How about the will of the damned girl?

Callista yells to Elizabeth: "Boost you!". She turns slightly, links her fingers, bends a little, and offers a lift to Elizabeth.

((Shoving Elizabeth up the wall))

[Arcanum] Absalom, his eyes alight with eagerness, seen through the haze of the blue-tinged light-like barrier that surrounds him, lifts his hands like benediction and continues to call out like prayer to those of the 'flock' that remains. "Embrace them to your bosom so the Mother might lift the Veil from their Eyes--" and other such proclamations, bent on whipping them up to a frenzy. If he notices what Kimberly is doing he seems utterly unshaken by the prospect of a gun aimed in his direction.

And the Sending? The Spirit? The Woman/Lady/Mother/Madonna? She hoists the small body aloft so that others might see as her small frame tenses, arches, and the cries of prophesy and 'holiness' escape in a booming voice too rich, too deep, too pulsing to be her own.

[[Absalom: Smug in his own protection.
Sending: Doing what she damned well pleases.]]

[Elizabeth Zhao] She doesn't respond to Callista's call; she merely reacts. She hits the wall, pushes off it with her hands in a fluid motion to get momentum into the other's offered hand, and then tries to leapfrog up and over the wall.

"Do not physically attack the Sending!" she calls out. She remembers that from what Lucien told her.

[1: Wall leap!

[Arcanum] The man who has become more shouts and snarls, "DEMON! WITCH! HARLOT!"
No, it isn't particularly imaginative. And it hardly matters as he hurls himself at Kim, to knock her over and slash at her with talon-tipped hands.

[[1a: Tackle Kim. 1b: Slash at Kim.]]


----------------
Rolling 1a:
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[Arcanum] 1a Damage: (Bashing)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 6 (Failure at target 6)

[Arcanum] 1b: Slashing even though knockdown unsuccessful.
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Arcanum] 1b: Um, again now with, you know, less dice.
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Arcanum] 1b: DAMAGE LETHAL.. RAWR!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Kimberly Jenkins] DUPONT FABRICS FOR THE WIN
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 2, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Elizabeth Zhao] [[Dex+Ath! Liz is Neo!]]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 5 (Failure at target 4)

[Elizabeth Zhao] [[I Am Better Than You Kahseeno! *Sacrifices Rabbit*]]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 5) [WP]

[Arcanum] [[Sending and Absalom - no rolls needed!]]

[Molly Quincannon] [[Dex + Ath, diff 7, with WP]]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 7) [WP]

[Arcanum] [[Earth rumble! Knock down? +2 diff for Molly's suxx]]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 5, 8 (Failure at target 8)

[Kimberly Jenkins] Kim burns a WP, and defaulting back onto anger, muscle memory and training, coldly executes Man, before pushing away and sprinting to the barrier, firing at anyone who appears a threat.

[Kimberly Jenkins] (Dex+Fire-3, diff 4)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 6, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 4)


[Kimberly Jenkins] (Forgot re-roll 10's, but it's unapplicable. 3+6 diff 4)
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 4)

[Kimberly Jenkins] opps!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 4)

[Kimberly Jenkins] ((Dex+Ath diff 6. Why is Kim's Athletics zero?))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 4, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)


[Arcanum] [[The stats:
Kim: 2L; Molly, Calli, Liz: Good; Man: 5L, stunned, dying x.x; Sending & Absalom: Good]]

Using Callista's 'boost', Elizabeth manages to vault herself up the side of the increased fountain wall, leaping down into the likewise deepened [about thigh height] waters below, where the Sending [Madonna, Goddess, Messenger, Bitch] now stands double her normal size, hoisting the small girl [relation of a life lived before you were born] up while a forgotten [by most humans] language slips from her small mouth in a voice like a chorus [legion].

Molly manages to move it, getting away from the centered roiling quicksand the earth became beneath her feet while Kimberly is attacked by one of the bald, robbed men now bulging with muscle, chord and sinew; taloned hands wracking over her shoulder: The Kevlar over her right breast and upper chest shields against some of the damage but the shoulder itself takes a good tear. Enough to inhibit her slightly; not enough to render the arm useless. Changing her sights from Absalom, the tall Euthanatos swivels on her attacker and introduces him to a hand held cannon, courtesy of Israeli craftsmanship. Destroying a good chunk of his left upper torso, the man is down and not getting up anytime soon short of something... miraculous.

[Didn't you hear? Their Lady grants all manner of miracles.]

Absalom lifts his hands higher, still surrounding by the grey-blue haze of some sort of misty shield around him: "The fruit of the earth will know your blasphemies!" And others take up the chant as well, fueling the need, the desire that their own Will be vindicated. Kudzu vines around the base of the fountain begin to grow rapidly, stretching out to ensnare and snap up the Ecstatic, the Apprentice Akashic and the Euthanatos if she comes too near.

Down among the remainders of the crowd the people moves restlessly but edgily... if they haven't fled already then chances are they're waiting for some oppourtunity to 'serve' beyond lending their own Will to Absalom [and Her].

[Administrator] Elizabeth Zhao, welcome to General Chicago (Night)

[Molly Quincannon] [[+5]]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9

[Callista Alexander] ((+6))
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10

[Arcanum] Absalom: +7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10

[Kimberly Jenkins] [[+7]]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2

[Arcanum] Sending: +9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7

[Elizabeth Zhao] [[+6]]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5

[Kimberly Jenkins] Kim, her mind overloaded with pain and emotion, frantically scans the remaining crowd for potential threats and then takes steps to mitigate.
[Next threatening cultist that stands up gets shot.]

[Arcanum] [[New Order:
Absalom
Callista
Sending
Molly
Liz
Kim]]

[Elizabeth Zhao] [[Try to avoid the vines and get to the girl]]

[Molly Quincannon] "Oh, eff-eff-ess, you people are idiots." There isn't really time for much more; Molly snatches up her staff on the fly and runs, trying to stay ahead of kudzu, in the general direction of some of the more distracted-by-kudzu-looking members of the crowd. (Plus vines aren't particular about who they snag, usually. It's a thin hope, but her own.) As soon as she's close enough? Someone's getting a quarterstaff to the head.

[[I figure one round will just be getting away from the vines...]]

[Callista Alexander]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6

[Kimberly Jenkins]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3

[Molly Quincannon] [[It always scares me when she makes us do this...]]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3

[Elizabeth Zhao] [[Screw it. She's already been summoned, so she's here anyway. Sweep kick to knock the fucker down]]

[Arcanum] The Sending... does not fear attack. This much has been noted; this much is clear. Lucien even warned them against it, as it is one of the few exceptions to the bans that keep her from crossing the gauntlet at will. So the look she casts at Elizabeth as the small woman lands in the fountain is calm, curious, amused, confused... many things all at once and all of them... like the miming of human emotions, some alien air retained.

"What will you do, little one? Strike me?" Eagerness

[Callista Alexander] Try to distract Absalom, or help Elizabeth get the girl? Easy choice.

((Climbing the fountain))

[Arcanum] Absalom is immersed in his prayers, his chantings, his ranting and railing. He is, of course, a conduit, channeling the Will and Belief of the majority into his own abilities, his own Powers, his own wonder-works.

-------------
[[Absalom is maintaining the focus on the Kudzu vines]]

[Callista Alexander] ((Climbclimbclimb - dex+ath))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 5, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8) [WP]

[Molly Quincannon] [[So glad I upped Dodge...]]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 7) [WP]

[Arcanum] [[Kudzu grab? -2 Suxx for Dodge]]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Elizabeth Zhao] [[Making it official--WP to stop action]]

[Elizabeth Zhao] She narrows her eyes. "Give me my granddaughter. Now."

[Kimberly Jenkins] [Dex+Dodge+3-3]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 1 at target 8)

[Kimberly Jenkins] [Reroll]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1 (Botch x 1 at target 8)

[Kimberly Jenkins] [Lemme do that again, properly]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 6, 6, 9 (Failure at target 8)

[Arcanum] [[Kudzu rawr!]]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Arcanum] Molly is moving towards the crowd, intent on drawing focus away from the fountain -- and slamming down some of these loonies concentrating their 'prayers' on empowering the Kudzu, if need be. Closest to her: A teenage girl on her knees, eyes heavenward chanting, moaning, praying "Oh Mother, empower your servant Absalom, Our Lady, may we be instruments of your will!"

Callista manages to monkey up the wall of the fountain, avoiding the kudzu as she goes, now atop the wall of it near Kim who is getting good and ensnared by the rampaging kudzu. Within the fountain itself the Sending lowers the girl to her chest, still watching Elizabeth and preparing to speak once more...

[Kimberly Jenkins] Kim struggles to break free of the kudzu.

[Elizabeth Zhao] Well, here goes nothing. She takes a step back to give her a touch of running room and charges to jump up and try to tackle the girl out of the bitch's hands.

Yes, bitch. Liz didn't say it, but she THOUGHT it.

[Molly Quincannon] So she hasn't got Entropy or Forces on her side. What she has is a big, sturdy stick. What happens next isn't strictly speaking something they taught her in bojutsu classes: hold staff crosswise, mutter, "Oh, this is going to hurt" and charge, shoving staff forward and more or less running over the teenage girl. It'll distract the largest number of people and probably get her killed, but what the hell.

Battle cry? "GERONIMOOOOOOO!"

[[Charge with big stick!]]

[Arcanum] The Sending stands passively, beyond the fact that she [It] does not loosen her grip on the child... and all the while her expression remains the same mesmerizing mix of tumultuous feeling at odds with the coolness of curious observation.
"Oh strange, desperate things. Strange, desperate, backwards little creatures..."

The little girl has gone slack in the 'Mothers' arms, eyes open and starring, mouth agape, saliva trickling out the corners while she occasionally twitches... whimpers...

[Callista Alexander] Callista makes a flying kick for Absalom, hoping to distract him from his work. Elizabeth's dealing with the girl, and it sounds like an extra pair of hands might not be that much use if they can't actually touch her.

So, she jumps. Kicks. Yelling, "Not desperate enough to steal a child from her father!"

((Flying kicky thing at Absalom hoping that sphere isn't going to hurt too much))

[Callista Alexander] (('her' being the sending))

[Arcanum] Absalom watches while Callista moves to flying-leap and Molly gears up to go charging into the crowd, into his 'flock': With a maddening smooth ease he moves to move out of the way of Callista's arch, while calling to his followers...
"Brothers! Stop her! Sisters! Children! PRAY!!!!"
He doesn't lower his hands...

[[Action: Dodge-i-fy!]]

[Arcanum] [[Dex+Dodge. WP]]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 5, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]

[Callista Alexander] ((Jumpflykicksplat))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 7) [WP]

[Arcanum] Absalom Shield Damage - Aggravated:
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 5, 5, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Arcanum] Sending: Str contest.
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Elizabeth Zhao] [[Dex+Do]]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 9) [WP]

[Elizabeth Zhao] [[*Crosses fingers* Strength!]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Kimberly Jenkins] [Dex+Fail+3-3, ignore first 1, dif:7]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 5 (Failure at target 7)

[Arcanum] Listening to their 'shepherd' the flock moves, some rather dumbly at first given the spectacle of everything going on, up to and including some madwoman with a staff running to]/i] them and screaming 'Geronimo' of all things... but after the initial shock there is only the truth of the fanatic: This woman poses a threat to what they believe and those they believe [i]in and must be stopped. Braving the blows from the quarterstaff she wields, the men move in, about five of them, to over power her...
...they are not gentle.

Callista just manages to connect with Absalom, despite his fluid shifting in stance. It is a glancing blow: And it causes them both injury, though Callista more than the albino. He looses his stance with the blow and his arms drop...
The kudzu falls limp and dormant, releasing Kim where she now lays on the ground, prone from her fall.
...Callista, however, can feel a searing pain at her foot and leg: Her shoes and clothes afforded some protection - though that shoe and bit of robe and a good portion of the pants fabric are ruines and the flesh beneath a swatch of aching blister burns, burned down to the muscle in some spots, starting to slow her down somewhat with the pain and injury.

Back in the fountain, Sending and Elizabeth are in something of a deadlock over the ailing girl, the Sending looking down on the small Akashic and shaking her head slowly. She shudders: From sensation as much from regret and hunger. For the first time her eyes Narrow showing something like contempt: Cold and emotionless contempt. [and Elizabeth may wonder just how much of any of those other emotions and feelings the Sending seems to experience or show are in anyway natural -- or entirely parasitical, leeched up from those around her like a junkie who can't get off without the right hit first.]

With a grunt it releases the girl: Forced to comply to the complex rules that govern its being still, for all that It has 'grown'.

And disappears.

[Arcanum] Absalom can feel when his Lady vanishes and his eyes widen with momentary shock. But his shield remains although the control over the kudzu has faltered. Struggling to his feet he calls out more orders: "Stop them! Stop them!"

But with the disappearance of the Sending the remaining followers are struck with confusion, despairing, fear... most stumble back; begin to flee. Two men remain around Molly, one with his knee in her back, the other - oh, look, it's the Bulldog who first spoke them - kicking her in the ribs. A few women stir themselves to try and do as Absalom yells but they are slow moving and clearly bewildered.

[Elizabeth Zhao] She collects the girl into her arms, gathering her up. She probably doesn't even realize that she presses her lips to the girl's forehead lightly before she calls out over the wall.

"I have her! Fall back!" And she moves to do exactly that, moving out of the fountain in the opposite direction from the crowd. Much as she would like to come to the aid of her fellow Awakened, she has very precious cargo in her arms.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly's getting kicked in the ribs. This, on top of the various other bruises, hurts a lot. But it takes a lot to get Molly to shut up, so with what breath she has (because gods know she's not moving at this point, not with someone putting weight on her back like that), the men in question might well hear, "Over..." *thud* "...compen..." *thud* "...sating..." *thud* "...for something..." *thud* "...jackass?"

[Kimberly Jenkins] She is still angry. Later that angry will be more closely defined, where it will fade into other emotions. There will be crying, there will be shame. But for now? Now just anger. Rage. Finally given a situation that Kim can do something about, she does.

She doesn't know Molly very well. But she does know that she's a friend, and something bad is happening to her friend. A painful breath as she rolls slightly, not bothering to fully aim, her eye picks up the glowing dot of the frontsight over the form and shape of the men pummeling her friend, and she just pulls the trigger.

And keeps pulling the trigger.

[Callista Alexander] "People! You see what you've put your faith in? A figment, a shadow, feeding off you. Your need to believe, believe that there's something better in this world than what you have. Well, guess what. She lies! She gives you trinkets, while she feeds on your weakness, your desperation."

Callista leans heavily against the wall of the fountain as she stuggles her way to her feet. Screaming out at the remnants of the crowd.

"You want to make a better world for yourself? Show each other the love and devotion you showed this fraud. Look after each other. Care for each other. Work for each other. There are no short cuts to a better life."

[Arcanum] Callista's words, while heartfelt and worthy, are overshadowed by the concussive fire of Kimberly's Desert Eagle and the fact that those with any real strength of individual Will and reasoning fled this place when shit first started to go down. What remains now - minus two, now bleeding next to or atop Molly - are the True Believers and they are not so easily shaken...

...Absalom chief among them, who now simply looks... well, yes, well and thoroughly enraged. "LEAVE! LEAVE NOW! I will deal with these witches myself with the Might SHE leaves me!"

... the blue haze around him begins to expand in radius, and Callista at least knows what will happen if manages to reach her and any of the others. It is, no doubt, a good time to grab Molly (wounded as they are, Callista and Kimberly are in far better shape so far as mobility goes) and run.

Elizabeth is struggling with the dead weight of the girl in her arms: Who now, at least, seems truly unconscious. Which means she's heavier but at least she's not whimpering, staring, twitching. But the slight Akashic will have to call on all her inner reserves to manage the weight herself and keep moving for too long.

[Molly Quincannon] Oh good. Now she can breathe a little better (if painfully - oh so damned painfully). So, with an attempt to heave herself upright using her staff for support, she draws in a painful breath and asks the high-priesty-guy, not quite conversationally and certainly loud enough to be heard by Absalom, "Do you have any idea how badly you need to get laid?" Short pause for thought, and then, "Not that I'm volunteering..."

[Elizabeth Zhao] Her inner reserves are not at their strongest, but she grits her teeth and steels herself, pushing herself as far as she can take it. She stops once she's a half a block away so she can shift the girl to over a shoulder, an easier method of carrying dead weight that is still not rough on the girl, and then continues her way on to the agreed meeting point at Molly's car.

[Kimberly Jenkins] "Get Liz to the car."

Kim doesn't recognize the voice that comes out of her mouth. Training has pushed aside emotion in the chain of priority and at the very least her subconcious is determined to do a far better job than coherent thought has gotten her. Still fast, she pushes up off the ground with a painful grunt, and quickly cross the distance to Molly. Her left arm drops, easily encircling the other mage, and with a painful heave, lifts right off the ground and over her (unhurt) shoulder.

[Administrator] Arcanum has left General Chicago

[Callista Alexander] "Dammit!"

Callista limps over to Liz and, just as importantly, away from the expanding blue sphere of... whatever that is. Helping as much as she can, she moves with the other women and her precious parcel towards safety.

She turns to glare at Absalom one last time before they disappear into the night.

I'll find you.