Prologue – Ted

Ted woke up in his small apartment, as big as a police officer’s pension would pay for, just as the sun hit the apartment building across the street.  His apartment would be out of the direct sun until afternoon.  Ted put on his robe and slippers to get his morning newspapers.  He opened his door to the apartment hallway and found the five newspapers haphhazardly sprawled across his welcome mat.  The morning ritual was about to begin.

(For prologue purposes Ted’s morning ritual will succeed.  I am creating a kind of system for consequences of Ci’s actions via the newspapers and Ted’s ability to get a hit on them for later.)

He unrolled each paper and placed it on his large dining room table.  Ted sat down at the only chair left and closed his eyes.  Rarely he would get a ping from all the newspapers when he placed his hand on it.  Most of the time he would get nothing.  This morning he got a doorbell-like feeling from his winning pony: The Brooklyn Paper.  Now comes the hard part, finding why the newspaper grabbed him.  But, his sister’s actions were beginning to create a pattern.  At least that’s what he thought it was.  Some stories involved a woman, always seen at night, and these feelings started when he saw her after a night at Joe’s, a cop hangout.  It was a flash, but the image scored deep in to his memory.

Luckily the Brooklyn Paper was one of the smaller ones than the Times and the Post, and it would only take a small portion of his morning.

(Depending on how resonant Ci’s actions are picked up the difficulty increases for Ted.  Assuming police were called, the minor scuffle on a rainy night might get a note in the police blotter.  Ted cannot “fail” this roll because the information is there, but for the difference between successes and failures Ted finds a red herring.  In this case the difficulty is 5, and he got 1 success.  So four red herrings gotten from Mythic: transform death, persecute power, recruit enemies, create trials. He cannot retry this roll to get better results without doing extra work, like talking to a police officer or calling the paper.)

Ted sighed after finishing his third cup of black coffee.  It was a treat to feel that sound of success in knowing that her actions were in there, but even with narrowing it down to five stories and blotters, this morning was a failure.  He was no closer.  Ted stared across the apartment at the huge tack board filled with stories, blurry images of her, and old pictures of Tabithia.  A few mornings he wasted his power on the wall, and the sound in his brain was so strong he passed out.  When he woke up later that day off the floor his bones were still vibrating.

Now he had a stolen body in the morgue, a kidnapping or some kind of arrest in an alley, councilman bribes, gang parties, and a DA’s new focus on the various ethnic mafia dotted throughout Brooklyn.  None seemed to be really eminate her feeling, but all seemed like possibilities.  He through the clippings into the pile.  That pile was already big enough.  He decided he would save going through it another day.  Looks like it was going to be a day well spent at Joe’s.


~ by Ravious on March 27, 2009.

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