Lost Coast Gaming

“He’s been sitting there since this afternoon, Father.” Simon said in a hushed voice, peering out into the nave at the odd young man in the fourth pew from the front, on the left. “Just sitting there and staring up at the window.”

Raven’s alabaster skin stood out in stark contrast to her surroundings as she paced down The Needle. The Needle was located in Lafayette between Parsons Avenue and Pander Street. If there was a worse place for a beautiful white woman to find herself in all of Hudson City, it would have been impossible to find. The street gangs there had no tolerance for any skin color other than black. Whites and Hispanics both respected that rule, and when they didn’t, there was a bullet ready to welcome them.

Sniper came rushing back in to the subway at the same time that the remainder of the Guardians spilled through the odd red porthole. There, they each landed and alighted, standing here amidst the silence and nothingness of the dead subway. Only the scant sounds of people milling about in the street above dared to break that brief silence, as each of them came to stand where they needed to be.

OOC: Insert "hellos" here ... /OOC

“Another victim of the Altar Killer was found this morning on the altar of St. Ignatius Cathedral. Police won’t confirm or deny whether they are linked to the brutal murders that demoralized the Catholic community, less than two years ago…”

Jonathon hummed softly to himself as he checked his appearance in the mirror. Frowning slightly at his tie, he made subtle adjustment to the image generator, tightening the lines on the tie and smoothing out wrinkles. He made a mental note to tone down the realism subroutine next time.

The fact that the tuxedo was holographic didn't detract from how well it looked on him. He had hired a personal image consultant years ago and never regretted it. Everything he wore and carried was carefully crafted to enhance his appearance and to look good on him.

"Okay," he said, again focusing on her. "Someone—you, I suppose—has obviously put some time and effort into at least getting me this far in. So I'm fourth on the list—wait." He glanced at the folder. "Fourth? Really?" He sighed and shook his head. So if I don't take the job you just offer it to the next person on your list who isn't, uh—" he again referred to the folder. "An 'attention whore' or a 'jerk'." He suddenly chuckled. "I can't wait to meet that guy."

Nemesis had to admit that now his curiosity was well and truly piqued. The last thing
He had expected was…well, a job offer. He didn’t even bother to keep the surprise and curiosity from his face. He flipped through the packet, sometimes reading a page, sometimes simply glossing over it. After several minutes he looked up and gestured with the packet.

“This is…what? Some sort of marketing thing?” If she’d wanted to catch him off guard it appeared she had succeeded.

Take out Chinese food, a hot bath and one really long day later, Ophilia found herself back in the comfort of her overstuffed leather couch. The furnishings were simple but extravagant and the place was tidy. It looked more like a model unit than it did a lived in space. The light from the kitchen and her big screen TV were the only evidence that the quiet resident was home.

Cleve Garfield was considered a regular at Pops Bar, but his attendance had become more frequent over the past couple of weeks. Instead of his usual Tuesday and Thursday brew to help unwind, he’d been in almost every day. He was still a fairly light drinker, but he’d picked up smoking and looked like hell. Luke knew that he came for the companionship. It was one of the few places where he was accepted, a place where people actually saw him, a place where he could connect with the living instead of the dead.

It wasn’t thirty minutes after Mrs. Carmichael shooed Ardent away when the perky Miss Stacey Nichols was tapping her foot impatiently on the tiled floor of the Library’s Grand Foyer. The head librarian finished the business of tidying up her entrance display, before turning a suspicious look on the young lady reporter. “Miss Stacey, what are you all worked up about? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

The teenager looked more serious than usual and her easy smile was absent. “I need to find Spooky. Is he here?”

“Jesus H. Christ. Why do they need so damned many cereals.”

Jag Reynolds surveyed the brightly colored panorama of boxes on the shelves. Cartoon cockatoos and leprechauns stared back at him with stupid grins on their faces.

“Seriously,” Jag said. “This is ridiculous.”

“What are you looking for, dad?”

The white house was barely standing and it was obvious that the landlord wasn’t up to code. This was the kind of neighborhood where the hard knock cases tried to have their own version, of the American dream; a driveway of their very own, and the luxury of not hearing the neighbors running on the ceiling above their heads, or banging the bed against their wall while they were fucking. Kids were riding their bicycles on the street and for the most part it seemed like, an almost decent place to live, and those were hard to come by in Lafayette.

The Purifier looked once more at the now blessed body that rested peacefully on his operating table. She could no longer feel the cold stainless steel surface against her bare back, and her panicked screams had died out long before her body found the sweet peace of death. He bent over her and kissed the now pale skin that covered her forehead.

“In local news, an unidentified meta-human wreaks havoc this evening on a small, local church. We have Donna Grey live on the scene. Donna?”

A young blonde with artful makeup and a maroon pant-suit materialized on screen. Behind her was chaos as news crews crowded around spectators who crowded around police barriers which encompassed the wreckage of a very old and once elegant-looking church. Now the building had a gaping hole in one wall, the size of a Volvo. Emergency lights sliced through the evening in alternating red and blue. She spoke loud over the noise around her.

Staring out of the tinted windows of the Family limousine, Sebastian DiSantiago watched as downtown Hudson City rolled past. He considered the time they were making, as normally there would be a bit of traffic, but it was almost as if the city itself knew who the passenger of this car was, as lanes and lights both were accommodating tonight. He sighed softly, and keyed the button which would allow him to talk to the driver.

"Go ahead and take the long way, I don't want to arrive early tonight."