10517/Darkness and Drugs

Darkness and Drugs
Date of Scene:	23 December 2019
Location:	La Rue Morgue Night Club, Manhatten
Synopsis:	Raven interupts a drug deal
Cast of Characters:	Tombstone, Raven

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Tombstone has posed:
A night-club named after a Edgar Allen Poe story seemed to be a pretty weird idea for a club. But, ever since La Rue Morgue club opened a few years back, it attracted a niche crowd in the form of the Goth subculture. This is what attracted you to this place tonight. The crowd mostly looked the same, their black clothing seemingly melding into one big blot in the distance. If you were to take a closer look however, you would notice a group of men wearing white and gold hanging out in the far corner of the room. Depending on your familiarity with Metropolis gangs, you would recognize these men as members of The Seraphim, a crew out of Metropolis. The leader of this group was a scrawny, tall man wearing glasses, a white t-shirt, and a pair of blue jeans. On his wrist was a golden band. He appeared to be staring at the entrance of the club intently.

Suddenly, the door opens and a group of men wearing red walk in and approach the Seraphim. These were members of the Roses from Brooklynn, and they looked like they meant business. As the two crews walked into a private room, you would see one of the Roses holding a briefcase and smoking something. Suddenly, he takes whatever he is smoking out of his mouth and exhales, releasing a cloud of red vapor out of his mouth as he walked in. This of course, was a obvious sign of Rose Dust, the Rose's signature drug.

Raven has posed:
    Rare is a place that Raven blends in. Clad in her sweater the color of the night sky, and moving through the crowd as if it were a calm stream, Raven seems -almost- at home within the darkness of the club, Raven makes her way to what can be assumed to be a quiet corner.

    Spinning to face the dance floor, Raven's hands seat themselves within her pockets, and she just takes to the silent hobby of people-watching. This is a thing she indulges in only for so long, as some others enter, and Raven can't help but pay attention to them. That they mean business is even more obvious to an empath like she.

    Frowning, slightly- who could really tell?- Raven pushes free from the wall and heads into the crowd- moving through it in an attempt to overhear what these obvious gangs could possibly mean.

Tombstone has posed:
As the gangsters walk into the private room, you manage to hear one of the Roses say to the lead Seraphim in a thick, Liverpoolian accent," Alright, Tombstone added you into our network to gain entry into Metropolis. So, you better have some money for this angel dust." However, before you can how the Seraphim reacts, the private door closes, cutting off the rest of ther conversation. A minute later, a Seraphim wearing a white tank-top and a gold bandanna around his head walks out of the room and stands outside of it and crosses his arms, obviously acting as a guard.

Raven has posed:
    Raven pauses for a moment. She heard the conversation as it began, and in that, knew that she had to do... Something about this deal going down. Raven turns, then, and then walks quietly towards the nearest wall. Under the din of the club, with the thumping beat and multitude conversations, Raven's disappearance into the wall is easily unnoticed. Within moments, she will emerge from a similar shadow in the darkest corner of the private room, dwelling within that darkness, Raven stands there for a time, observing- listening. The more information she can get before she needs to act, the better.

    In the meantime, the shadow that she lives within begins to stretch itself out, consuming not the walls, but the floor in its slow, languid path, mere inches at a time.

Tombstone has posed:
The room itself is a simple, windowless room painted red velvet. The floor was colored the same color with surprisingly fancy looking tile. The Seraphim and the Roses were gathered together at a table. The briefcase the Roses had was opened, revealing bags of a bright red powder, obviously the Rose Dust. The man who was smoking the rose dust from earlier was still smoking it now, and it looks like it hasn't depleted a bit. The Liverpoolian man looks at the lead Seraphim and says,

"I trust that Raphael has provided you the money for our Angel dust?"

The lead Seraphim nods and says," Yeah, Raphael got us the money. As part of our deal with Tombstone, we will distribute this stuff in metropolis and provide you with our own designer drug, Limbo."

Another Seraphim, a tall, muscular man with a goatee wearing sunglasses and a white and gold t-shirt pulls out a ziplock bag and hands it to the Rose.

Raven has posed:
    Raven listens along, committing all of this to memory- so that she can summon the knowledge of it later on- The testimony may be magical, but the knowledge gained can be used to gain that knowledge legally.

    Her head rocks back; Her eyes close. There is, then, a steady breath. The shadow upon the floor stretches out from her feet, forming into the shape of a great, black bird. The wings of it unfurl, and there should be only a few moments more before there is no space on the floor that isn't encompassed by her soul-self. The transaction is going to take place- Raven just has to figure out where she's going to send these criminals... If she can.

Tombstone has posed:
The Rose takes the money greedily and shoves the money into his pocket. He then slides the briefcase to the Seraphim, who takes the case and closes it carefully. Before the group can leave however, one of the Seraphim, a hispanic man looks down and sees the shadows on the ground and starts to let out panicked swears in Spanish. The rest of the men look down and finally see the Shadows and start trying to get to the door.

Raven has posed:
    They caught on later than she figured they would- but earlier than she needed them to. She is bothered by this- but getting some, or most, is better than getting none. All too suddenly, Raven makes her presence known.

    "Azarath. Metrion. ZINTHOS."

    Her eyes are enveloped in darkness, and she rises off of the floor some few inches. A corona of light emerges from around the darkness, and the darkness upon the ground lashes out, exploding upwards and seeking those that stand within the room. Some will likely be grabbed outright, any that are still standing within the shadow. The others, the shadow reaches for with jagged hands of night.

    Those that are consumed are sent to the prison of her soul-self- so that she can send them to the prison of the real world. The experience is bound to be... Jarring.