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The Rise of the Coffee God Messages in this topic - RSS

Drake Dynamo
Drake Dynamo
Posts: 453

3/19/2017
(OOC: This will be an ongoing thread of one-off stories pertaining to the Coffee God, that old jovial spymaster. This first story takes place between the Dynamos' jailbreak and the start of the Shade Hunt.)


Emma raps three times on the door. There is a shuffling inside, but no one answers the door. She raps again. This time, the door opens a crack, and a pair of nervous eyes peer out.

“What do you want?” The man at the door inquires.

“I’m looking for the Ant-” Emma begins, but she is cut off by furious shushing.

“Don’t say his name.” The man urges.

“Ah, so you know him? Good. Where is the Coffee God?” Emma says with a smile. The man sighs and reluctantly opens the door. He ushers Emma in, and closes the door. It is some sort of abandoned parlor.

“You’ve been away too long. He left.” The man declares, with an apprehensive glance about him.

“What do you mean he left?” Emma presses.

“He pulled out. The Network fell apart without him. They say it’s because you disappeared, Emma.” The man says, earning a raised eyebrow from Emma. The man continues.

“Oh yes, everyone in the Network knows you, Emma Dynamo. When they started to send your glowy-eyed friends to employ his services, the Coffee God had enough.” The man finishes.

“Well, where did he go?” Emma insists. The man shrugs.

“All I know is that he said he was going to hide in plain sight.” The man says. As he turns to let Emma out, she takes out her pistol and shoots him in the back of the head. If he’s not permanently dead, he’ll at least have to go to the tomb-colonies. Emma exits the premises.

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

Of course only he would be so obvious. “The Antioch Coffee Parlour and Restaurant” had been in business for several years now, corresponding almost perfectly with Emma’s disappearance. Emma enters the Veilgarden establishment hesitantly, and looks about. Just folks eating fungal pastries and sipping coffee. Nothing unusual. Well, for a coffee parlour. Very unusual for a spymaster’s hideout. Emma approaches the maitre’d, a very bored looking young woman, probably no older than 16 or 17.

“I’m looking for the owner.” Emma declares. The woman merely stares back.

“So? Lotta people come looking for him. Not a lot get to see him.” The woman says with a yawn.

“I will speak to the Antioch.” Emma demands. At the mention of the name, a degree of knowledge and panic appears on the young woman’s face.

“Don’t say his name! He goes by the name Antonios Methodios now. Follow me.” The woman says, abandoning her post, and rushing Emma to a small door near the back of the restaurant. She knocks twice. A voice sounds from behind the door.

“What is it?” The voice intones.

“Dad, one of your old coworkers is here.” The young woman explains.

“Wait, you’re his daughter? I remember when you were just a twig!” Emma exclaims. The woman eyes Emma with a degree of contempt. Before she can respond, the door opens, revealing a slender man with a large, scruffy beard, and long Jesus-like hair. He wears a ruffled suit.

“Emma? God lord, come in.” The man commands, rushing Emma into the room, and abruptly closing the door on his daughter.

“So you’ve gone domestic?” Emma inquires. The room is a small office, tastefully decorated. The man gestures for Emma to sit in a plush chair, which she does, before he takes a seat in one of his own. The man- the Antioch- nods.

“You disappeared, so I had no reason to deal with Sequencers anymore. Wanting information that you knew I had no desire of supplying to any party. Harassing my operatives. One even threatened to report me to the Special Constables. And of course, when I broke ties, that’s when they started targeting my agents. The Network was comprised of spies, peeping toms, and eavesdroppers- they typically can’t handle professional assassins and paid mobs. So, rather than see people who put their trust in me get hurt, I disbanded the Network, and they all went back to their former occupations. I needed a cover to disappear into, so here I am.” The Antioch explains.

“Well, I’m back in. Put the Network back together.” Emma states. The Antioch shakes his head.

“No, I’m done with the Sequencers. You think I’m so foolish, but I still have eyes and ears across the Neath. I know of your brother, your return, and what happened in that prison.” Emma’s eyes widen. The Antioch goes on.

“The Sequencers killed officers of the law to break you out of prison. They worked with that monstrous “Shadow of London” character to do it. I’m not going to work with such unscrupulous characters. The Network had ethics… I have ethics.” The Antioch insists. Emma frowns.

“What would it take to get you to do business with me again?” Emma asks. The Antioch pauses for a moment.

“It’s not you I’m concerned about. I’d work with you again in a heartbeat. I don’t want to work with golden-eyed dawn fanatics anymore. But, I would consider it, if I knew the Shadow of London was no longer someone they’re working with. It’s too powerful a force for them to control.” The Antioch admits.

“So, if we were to kill the Shade- er, the Shadow of London, you’d work with me again?” Emma suggests.

“I’d consider it. But running a coffee shop is boring, so I’d say you’d have a strong non-zero chance that I’d get back into business.” The Antioch says with a grin. Emma stands up.

“It was a pleasure seeing you again, Coffee God.” Emma says, before exiting the room and the coffee parlour.

There’s work to be done.
edited by Drake Dynamo on 3/19/2017

--
Oh no. Another post from that goon who goes on about statistics.

Drake Dynamo -Correspondent, Hesperidean Cider Drinker , Matchmaker, and Paramount Presence
The Antioch - The Coffee God (I do not check this account often)
Mr. Mauvais - A ghostly skullduggerous fellow, chopped up for the time being (Only active during seasonal events)

Guide to becoming a Poet-Laureate
If you need to discuss RP matters, I can typically be found on the IRC in #Argo.
+3 link
Drake Dynamo
Drake Dynamo
Posts: 453

3/21/2017
The Antioch eyes the messenger warily. One-Eyed Bob wasn't the most reliable source of information, but this was the third such report he'd heard: an agent of his had been picked up by constables to be used as evidence in some trial, after they had engaged in some sort experimental procedure with devils.

"What exactly did Bob tell you?" The Antioch asks, folding his hands together. Persephone, his daughter, stands by the door- the restaurant is closed at the moment.

"Mr. Bob told me to tell you that Little Lou was snatched by the constables for getting some extra souls from the devils." The messenger reiterates.

"Extra souls? He was caught with spirified souls?" The Antioch presses. The messenger shakes his head.

"No, sir. They put two more souls into his body." The messenger corrects.

Ah, this is new information.

"And you said they're getting ready for a trial?" The Antioch inquires, and the messenger nods.

"Yeah, both sides are looking for folks to testify about the procedure of gettin' extra souls." The messenger explains. The Antioch leans back in his chair.

"That will be all." The Antioch declares, and the messenger departs. Persephone enters the room and closes the door. The Antioch looks at her expectantly.

"Are our agents ready? Have they departed for Irem?" He asks. Persephone shakes her head.

"Until the Network is officially restored, I can only contact a few of our operatives outside of London. Blue Pete in the Khanate says he can charter a boat, but there's no other Network veterans that can accompany him." Persephone says. The Antioch pauses a moment in thought.

"What if we pay him extra, and have his ship go to Port Palmerston? The Henderson siblings are there, the four of them can join him." The Antioch suggests. Persephone nods.

"We can do that; but is it worth it for one man who may not even be there?" Persephone replies.

"He's the only one we know the location of that we could possibly extract information from. Besides, that detective will pay good money for him once we're done." The Antioch answers. Persephone sighs. She turns to exit, but the Antioch clears his throat.

"Also, get my nice suit together. We'll be going to court."
edited by Drake Dynamo on 3/22/2017

--
Oh no. Another post from that goon who goes on about statistics.

Drake Dynamo -Correspondent, Hesperidean Cider Drinker , Matchmaker, and Paramount Presence
The Antioch - The Coffee God (I do not check this account often)
Mr. Mauvais - A ghostly skullduggerous fellow, chopped up for the time being (Only active during seasonal events)

Guide to becoming a Poet-Laureate
If you need to discuss RP matters, I can typically be found on the IRC in #Argo.
+2 link
Drake Dynamo
Drake Dynamo
Posts: 453

4/16/2017
Persephone huddles in the doorway of the pawn shop. There's a warm drizzle coming from the roof, and her contact is late. She is about to leave when a short man with a limp approaches. His face is covered in warts.

"Are you Henry the Goblin?" Persephone asks the man. He grunts and fumbles in his coat, eventually pulling out a key. He unlocks the door to the pawnshop and ushers Persephone in, before closing the door behind them. The pawnshop is lit by several sets of bottled Phosphorescent Scarabs. He turns and squints at her.

"Yer the daughter?" He asks. "Ya don't look much like ol' coffee brains."

"I get my looks from my mother, and my brains from my father, so no games. I'm here on business." Persephone snaps. Henry the Goblin shrugs.

"Fine. Why did ya need to see me?" The stout man inquires.

"My father is reforming the Network. You were one of the twelve Networkers, so-" Persephone starts, before Henry the Goblin holds up a scarred and calloused finger.

"That death trap of an organization? No way. I thought your dad wanted a favor from me, but that's too much." Henry declares. Persephone looks around the pawnshop and gestures at a small coffee table and a set of chairs.

"Can we sit and discuss this?" She pleads, and the short man reluctantly takes a seat. Persephone sits across from him.

"Look, yer father is a nice man. He cares a lot for the poor of this city. But this scheme of his, it's always been a bad idea. Employ the poor and homeless as yer eyes and ears through the Neath? In theory, on a small scale, perhaps it'd've worked. Get a few blokes to tell ya about what they hear, that sorta thing. But a hundred people in London, and fifty across the rest of the Unterzee? Yer bound to run inta trouble." Henry explains. Persephone raises an eyebrow.

"But I thought it worked well enough before." Persephone protests. The Goblin shakes his head.

"Ye were but a young gal. I don't 'spect ya to remember. Even before them Sequencers started roughing up the boys, the whole operation coulda been destroyed by losing a couple key people. It relied on everyone being able to get news to one of the Networkers, and then having them get word to the Antioch, in a timely manner, all without any parabola shenanigans. Lose one link, and the whole chain'd fall apart." The Goblins remarks.

"Surely, if it really was just a collection of the poor, it couldn't have been that difficult to move about unnoticed." Persephone says.

"Sorry lass. Yer pa seems to have left some things out. We couldn't use the mirrors 'cause the Snakes hate yer dad. Because our boys weren't much before the Network, someone or other was always gettin' jumped, since they weren't no good at fightin'. And, some of them boys in the Great Game got it in their heads we was tryin' to mess with 'em, and tried to sabotage us whenever they could. It was only the Dynamo girl and her Sequence connections that kept us makin' money." The Goblin says. Persephone listens to this solemnly. After a moment of silence she responds:

"My father can get your son out of New Newgate. But only if you rejoin the Network." Persephone declares. Henry's eyes light up.

"My boy? I've done so much for yer father already, he owes me this. I shouldn't have to get involved again!"

"If that's your response, that's fine. I will find someone else to take your place." Persephone stands to leave. She begins to walk towards the door, when:

"Alright, alright. I'll do it. But only for my boy."

Persephone grins. A job well done.
edited by Drake Dynamo on 4/16/2017

--
Oh no. Another post from that goon who goes on about statistics.

Drake Dynamo -Correspondent, Hesperidean Cider Drinker , Matchmaker, and Paramount Presence
The Antioch - The Coffee God (I do not check this account often)
Mr. Mauvais - A ghostly skullduggerous fellow, chopped up for the time being (Only active during seasonal events)

Guide to becoming a Poet-Laureate
If you need to discuss RP matters, I can typically be found on the IRC in #Argo.
+3 link
Drake Dynamo
Drake Dynamo
Posts: 453

6/11/2017
The Antioch leans back in his chair. The man who stands before him is a relative stranger. They'd met once before, but it was a brief discussion on some trivial matter at a party.

"Why should I trust you? How do I know you can procure it?" The Antioch asks. The man grins.

"Because I've got it on me right now," The man replies, before drawing a decently sized vial out of his coat pocket. The Antioch, upon seeing the vial, draws back.

"I'll need proof," The Antioch insists, "before I can pay you." The man nods.

"Have your daughter send in someone who is, shall we say, less than useful," The man says. The Antioch calls out for Persephone. She enters briefly and the Antioch instructs her to bring in Two-Toed Timmy. She departs to get Two-Toed Timmy.

In the interim, the Antioch gets out of his chair and pours some coffee into a small cup that rests on his back shelf. He sets it on his desk, and beckons the man over, who carefully uncorks the vial and pours a tiny bit into the cup. The man re-corks the vial, and steps to the side of the room.

After a moment, the door to the Antioch's office opens, and a ragged man hobbles in, who closes the door behind him.

"Timmy, take a seat please. I've made you some coffee," The Antioch says, gesturing at one of his plush chairs. The ragged man, Timmy, smiles and sits down, and takes the coffee cup into his hands.

"Oo's the gent in da corner, boss?" Timmy asks. The Antioch smiles politely.

"A purveyor of rare goods. I'm making sure some of his merchandise is all he claims it is," The Antioch responds. Timmy takes a long and deep drink from the coffee.

"Brew's a bit off today boss. A bit bitter," Timmy begins, before pausing. Timmy stiffens. "Boss- this coffee hits you pretty hard, don't it?"

Before Timmy can say another word, he begins to shake violently, and tears of blood leak from his eyes. After about 15 seconds, Timmy stops shaking, and slumps over, dead. The Antioch stands and moves around to the body, and checks for a pulse.

"That does the trick. Your vial, it has enough for 12 people?" The Antioch inquires, turning to face the man. The man nods. The Antioch reaches into the pocket of his coat, and pulls out a thick wad of echoes. He crosses to the man and exchanges the echoes for the vial. Without saying another word, the man exits the office.

The Antioch follows to the door and leans out.

"Persephone, would you mind firing up the furnace? I've got some trash that needs burning."
edited by Drake Dynamo on 6/11/2017

--
Oh no. Another post from that goon who goes on about statistics.

Drake Dynamo -Correspondent, Hesperidean Cider Drinker , Matchmaker, and Paramount Presence
The Antioch - The Coffee God (I do not check this account often)
Mr. Mauvais - A ghostly skullduggerous fellow, chopped up for the time being (Only active during seasonal events)

Guide to becoming a Poet-Laureate
If you need to discuss RP matters, I can typically be found on the IRC in #Argo.
+1 link
Drake Dynamo
Drake Dynamo
Posts: 453

22 days ago
The Antioch and Jimmy Mariner navigate through the treacherous ruins of the Forgotten Quarter. Both have pistols drawn, as the Shadow of London's legion of homeless sycophants prowl this region of the city, always looking for victims.

"Where'd ya say this tomb was?" Mariner whinges. The Antioch shoots him a menacing look.

"I told you, I have a general idea. It shouldn't be too far. And if you ask me one more time, when we find the tomb, there will be another corpse in it," The Antioch replies. Mariner keeps his mouth shut. Even Mister Mauvais, the malign ghost, ceases his whispering in Mariner's ear.

After a short while the duo make their way through the remains of a shattered temple. With one incautious step, Mariner's foot comes down on a trip wire, which triggers an array of bells hidden somewhere in the ruins. The Antioch whirls to face Jimmy.

"What did you do?" He hisses. Before Mariner can respond, a chorus of hoots begins, echoing across the Quarter. The Antioch leaps for the nearest wall, crouching against it, pistol raised, and Jimmy follows suit. The shouts and yelps grow in intensity around the temple, growing nearer and nearer, but through the gaps in the stones, no one can be seen. The sound is almost deafening, before all at once it becomes silent.

The Antioch glances around, before raising his head above the fragmented wall. As soon as he does so, a stone whizzes past his head, and out from behind the columns and pillars and stones emerges a seething mass of the homeless: the Legion of the Shade.

“Open fire! Kill the mongrels!” The Antioch needlessly commands, firing round after round into the crowd of mad goons. Mariner fires slower, but more precisely, making sure each shot is a headshot, which seem to keep the fiends down longer.

As the Antioch pauses to reload, the first of the homeless makes it to the wall and begins to scale it like a spider. Mariner takes a potshot at it, before grabbing the Antioch and pulling him back towards the center of the temple. From all four sides now, the ragged army begins to surge into the temple. The Antioch and Jimmy stand back to back, saving their shots for whoever gets closest, but it’s clear they will not hold out for more than a minute. And then-

A blast of trumpets. The homeless stop moving, one mere inches away from clawing the Antioch’s face. The trumpets sound again and, as if one mind is directing them, the homeless begin to fan out and away from the duo. Mariner turns to look at the Antioch.

“The Grand Hunt. Devils. Get under something. Now,” The Antioch insists. Whereas the homeless had merely sparked annoyance, the Antioch now looks genuinely afraid. The two dart towards a visible crevice under an altar in the center of the temple, and squeeze in, before the Antioch hastily arranges some stones into a makeshift barricade.

The trumpet blasts a third time, and now the air sounds with hellish shrieks and cries. From their makeshift shelter, the pair watch as devils launch themselves over the rubble, moving faster than their bodies should carry them, in pursuit of the Legion. Amongst the shouts there is a distinct buzz, like a swarm of insects moving in for the kill. After thirty seconds or so, though, the stampede has moved past, screams and trumpet blasts getting fainter and fainter into the distance. Still, it is a good five minutes before the Antioch dares move the stones and emerge from below the altar.

“Come on Jimmy. We still have to get to the tomb,” The Antioch says, looking around, “although I’m not quite sure which way it is now.” Mariner clambers out of the crevice.

“That ain't true, me hearty,” Mariner declares, producing an Eyeless Skull from behind his back. “Under the altar with us.” The Antioch grins.

“Perfect.”

--
Oh no. Another post from that goon who goes on about statistics.

Drake Dynamo -Correspondent, Hesperidean Cider Drinker , Matchmaker, and Paramount Presence
The Antioch - The Coffee God (I do not check this account often)
Mr. Mauvais - A ghostly skullduggerous fellow, chopped up for the time being (Only active during seasonal events)

Guide to becoming a Poet-Laureate
If you need to discuss RP matters, I can typically be found on the IRC in #Argo.
+3 link
Drake Dynamo
Drake Dynamo
Posts: 453

14 days ago
(Taking place concurrently with Phryne's big post in the Shade Hunt)

Jimmy Mariner drops the brick on the Special Constable's head one more time for good measure. The Spite alley is now eerily quiet.

"He'll come back, but it'll be off to the tomb-colonies when he does. No one wants to see that on the streets," The Antioch remarks with a laugh. Mariner glares at the Antioch with his one good eye.

"I do nay like doin' yer dirty work. 'specially if it means killin' the constabulary," Mariner grumbles. He begins rummaging through the pouch the Constable was carrying.

"Look, we're very close to completing my plan. And when the plan is complete, I guarantee you will be handsomely rewarded," The Antioch replies. Mariner merely grunts as he extracts a small rock from the bag.

"Is this what ye wanted?" Jimmy inquires, as he turns it over in his hands. Suddenly, Mariner shrieks in pain, tossing the stone onto the pavement. "What is that? It burned Mauvais and he shouted in me d__n ear," Mariner complains. The Antioch rolls his eyes and carefully retrieves the rock.

"This is a Starstone Demark. It's closely linked to Correspondence, which is probably why it hurt your ghostly friend. And with this, our work is done for the time being," The Antioch explains, and his eyes widen. Jimmy turns to follow the Antioch's gaze.

"Mariner, close your eye, fool! Now!" Mauvais commands, and not a moment too soon. Jimmy closes his eye, as a bright flash ignites London, and the Antioch screams as his eyes are seared by the flash. He stumbles and falls to the pavement. When the light fades, Mariner opens his eye, and approaches the Antioch's motionless form. Jimmy kicks the body and the Antioch's eyes spring open, and he sits bolt upright.

"Mariner, I have seen it!" The Antioch exclaims, looking around wildly.

"What did ye see? Was that the sun?" Mariner asks, and the Antioch shakes his head.

"No, no. That was... that was a sun that might be. A command, an order, a law that may rival the cosmos. And... I know how to do it," The Antioch says breathlessly. Mariner takes a step back.

"Do what?" Mariner says, hesitantly.

"Oh, we have so much more work to do now, my friend. We've not even scratched the surface. I will do what the Machine cannot."

"Sir...?"

"I will become a Judgement."
edited by Drake Dynamo on 11/5/2017

--
Oh no. Another post from that goon who goes on about statistics.

Drake Dynamo -Correspondent, Hesperidean Cider Drinker , Matchmaker, and Paramount Presence
The Antioch - The Coffee God (I do not check this account often)
Mr. Mauvais - A ghostly skullduggerous fellow, chopped up for the time being (Only active during seasonal events)

Guide to becoming a Poet-Laureate
If you need to discuss RP matters, I can typically be found on the IRC in #Argo.
+5 link




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