Perhaps hastened on by Liron's hasty choice of music, the pair of magi enter Raven's car, which promptly takes off down the lonely highway towards Austin.
In theory, the journey should only take a couple of hours...
<->
...One hour and fourty-five minutes later, the night lights of Austin light up the horizon, smokey city a contrast to the great outdoors you entered from. Vagrants and homeless people litter the city streets.. as you draw closer to the centre of the place, where people actually *are* lying about on the pavement in a sorry state.
"I and I can't help but think this is a less-than auspicious begining," Liron mutters, shaking his head. "I have not seen a shanty-town this sad since I left the island. Land of opportunity indeed."
He pauses, then glances to Raven. "Or..." he begins, not wanting to voice his thought immediately.
"Hmm?" Raven looks at Liron briefly, before returning his eyes to the road.
Gesturing to the layabouts, Liron asks, "You think this is maybe just a little unnatural?"
"Can't say that I do," Raven replies with a shrug. "It's a big city, they attract the beggars and the homeless like nothing else."
"Devil's Nest", when you reach it, is undergoing something of a crisis.
A grungy, grey, industry-style building is what it amounts to, squatting somewhere in the inner-city area. Painted in graffiti across the walls are the words "Devil's Nest"- the 'S' has a red line slashed through it diagonally. Punkish-looking clubgoers mill about outside on the long main street, but the club itself is cordoned off by black and yellow police tape. A pair of the lawkeeping cars are parked nearby, lights on and flashing, but the sirens aren't wailing.
After considering Raven's words in silence for the drive, Liron shrugs at the sight of the police. "One must assume that if law enforcement can handle this, that the vagrants are merely part of the greater plan," he murmurs. "Should we prepare ourselves before we enter this ... place?" he asks.
"I was thinking of getting a clearer picture of when the cops got here, actually," Raven responds, keeping his hands on the wheel. He turns his head to look at the warded-off club, a flash of neon light glinting off his sunglasses.
After making sure it's parked, he steps out of the car, and walks towards the closest group of people observing the police.
It's a motley crowd of punks and clubgoers. The sort of place you might expect to find fellow Ecstatics, if anywhere...
Most of them are wearing bad clubbing clothes, so ripped jeans, leather jackets, and piercings seem to be the norm. Wacky hairstyles are prolific, too. There's plenty of annoyed mutterings... along with a fair degree of open speculation. "I heard somethin' went down in the shitseat," comes one punk, while another guy swears he saw the bartender pull a shotgun.
"No way!" Raven exclaims, just loud enough for them to hear. "A shotgun?"
"Oh, yeah, a 12-guage!" replies some girl, nodding excitedly. "Went right back into the bathroom, he did, and blew a hole clean through the wall!
'swhat I've heard, anyway. Guess he's inside with the cops."
"Man," Raven mutters, shaking his head. "Austin's wild. If only I made it half an hour earlier...."
As he keeps on shaking his head, Raven tries to spot any of the punks he saw with his mind's eye at Heron's house or anyone wearing an ankh.
OOC: Perception + Alertness; 7, 5, 4, 9
Peering around the crowd, Raven sees many pieces of jewelery, crosses, ankhs, dragons, paper-clips, and other things assorted.. but there's one pair of punks swearing at each other, loudly, wearing quite plainly inverted ankhs.
They're in the centre of the crowd to boot; admittedly, it's not very big, and people are already starting to drift off.
With a snort of amusement, Raven moves closer to the arguing punks, staring at them as some of the others are doing, and tries to catch their names between the flying insults as he commits their features to memory.
"Yeah, y'nipple-twisting plankfucker!"
The latest salvo comes with great force, and the two bickering punks begin storming through the crowd, which parts almost immediately- even Raven takes an involuntary step back.
With a shrug, Raven shoves his hands into the the pockets of his jeans and walks back to his car, making sure to keep the pair in sight. Once there, he turns to Liron, identifying the two for him. "Punks with ankhs. I'm thinking, we should follow?"
Liron doesn't nod, since this might draw attention, but he says, "You thinkin' good, Brother. Let's do that."
Raven nods, and pushes off the car. He crosses the street, and follows the punks, trailing them from a safe distance.
OOC: Stealth + Dex; 7, 7, 5, 6, 3
Managing to keep out of obvious sight, Raven trails after the pair of arguing punks.
They walk straight down the gutted street, completely silent. After about five minutes of walking, you hit a street corner with a towering apartment block rising up above you. A man in a coat and hat stands outside it, and the two men stop next to him, beginning to confer in low voices.
Raven tries to get within listening range, in an attempt to overhear some of the conversation.
OOC: Alertness + Perception; 7, 10, 7, 2; Stealth + Dexterity; 8, 3, 6, 3, 4
About fifteen metres away from the group, you hear low voices coming...
"...yeah, we got him," says one of the punks. "Heat ain't on us, either- we're clean. Let's scram, right?"
"Not yet," replies the man in the hat. "We've still got a task to do."
His head suddenly turns, and he glances at you for a split-second, before gesturing to the men. All three of them head inside the apartment block...
Raven finishes tying his shoelace, and continues walking, headed past the building at his old pace, without slowing down in front of it. He heads further down the street, and turns around a corner, leaning against it to wait for Liron.
Liron nonchalantly strolls down the street a bit later, offering a nod to the punks as he trails after to catch up to Raven, though he keeps his ears open if anyone comments as he passes.
"Our lead's in that building, it seems like," Raven tells Liron quietly, leaning against a building's wall. "Feel like going in and busting some heads?"
"Busting heads may not be called for," Liron replies after a thoughtful pause. "Though, a plan B is always good. We should begin as subtly as possible, I think. But since time is of the essence," he breaks off here to glance at the watch, "we may hurry to the latter whenever you are ready." Steeling himself, Liron nods and turns towards the punks.
OOC: They actually went inside the apartment block already. Are you going in after them?
(OOC: Er.... Yes.)
OOC: Just making sure!
IC: The entrance to the apartment block is a grimy thing, like the rest of the city around you. A slovenly man, wearing a dirty overcoat lies in a corner of the doorwar, brown paper bag with bottle inside clasped in scabby fingers.
Inside, you hear footsteps going up a narrow flight of stairs, and there seem to be two flats a floor.
With a glance and a shrug to Raven, Liron follows the sound of footsteps.
They are progressing slowly up the stairs; you can catch up to them easily. Three men, the two punks and the other man, trudging up the dimly-lit walkway. You're several floors up by the time you catch up. They don't turn to face you, or just don't hear you.
Raven shadows Liron, ready to assist at a moment's notice.
Liron gestures Raven into a shadowed alcove, if one is about. Otherwise, he just hopes to draw all attention to himself. Considering his words with care, he calls to the punks, "Oy, I and I be hearing that you're part of the music scene hereabouts, nah?"
"Fuck yeah!" replies one the punks, after a startled pause. "Coppers all over, but. Ain't nothing doing but heading to bed." He sways on his feet a little, while the other two people keep heading upstairs.
"S'cool, s'cool." Liron glances around. He decides to play it easy while the punk singles himself out from his friends, leaving Liron and Raven with the numerical advantage ... if it should come to that. "You puttin' on any shows soon?"
"F'sure," replies the punk. "T'morrow night, back down at Devil's nest."
He starts to move as if going back down the stairs. "How's about you, my friend?"
"Could be," Liron says, waiting until the punk has put himself between the two mages. "But I'm curious if you've done any private shows lately. Maybe ... for an old man?"
"Hey, now, old folks ain't liking my shit," replies the punk, after another split-second pause. "Tell you what, they got some classic records in the trunk, though.
They love that special vibe."
"So, you know what I'm talking about, then?" Liron asks. "I'm just sayin, if we found someone.... You do that kinda work?" The question is deliberately vague, but Liron tries to offer his brightest, friendliest grin, as if to show he's on the punk's side.
OOC: Hmm. Make a charisma+subertfuge check (a subterfuge check that isn't manipulation! How bizzare!)
((Liron attempts to charm the punk with his Charming Smile (specialization, if applicable): Roll 1: 4, 2, 1, 9, 10. Reroll 1?))
"No-go, buddy. This club's invite only," replies the punk, sticking his hands sharply in his pockets. "Gotta impress the right people to get on the inside."
"I read you," Liron chuckles ruefully. "Then, what about that ... special vibe? Got anything on hand?"
"Heh, yeah, I got some stuff," smirks the punk. "You want in? Feel like coming to the parlour?"
"Mebbe, mebbe," Liron says cautiously, still keeping his grin up. "Need to know what's on the table first, yeah?"
"Got some sheet from an unfinished symphony," replies the punk. "Unpublished and the like. Got an inside tip to the gig, swung 'round on the way down.
Classical shit. With a capital H."