Fellowship of the Dice

Master Robertson keeps to his own counsel, focusing on other matters, organizing the surviving Adepts and Masters. Merciful Raven (otherwise known as Jon Leng) has supported you since you first met at the Bon Festival, shakes his head as well. "Gangs would have done a run-by, shooting up the place. At their most competent tried to throw molotovs through the window. Such things wouldn't even have gotten through our mundane wards. I ... I just can't fathom it could be them. And the Technocracy would likely send in Hit-Marks, or bomb it from planes, or ... something. I just don't know who did this. Whomever survives will have a lot to do beyond just living another day."

Sparrow, Sentinel of the Council (who is currently also Geyser's senior in security matters at the Meeting) calls everyone's attention quietly but firmly. "The critically wounded must be evacuated immediately, which we will bear the consequences for." He gestures to Robertson who is setting up a ritual with the senior Magi, drawing out what appears to be a teleportation circle. Such vulgar magic will cost them significantly, but they are experienced with such things. "The rest of you will get what help we can spare." He heads back to the ritual circle, gesturing to two of his Cabal mates to deal with the rest of you.

Two Mages who none of the group got to know during the party or the Council meet up with you and the others gathered that can move under their own power. Both are women, older than teens but not elderly. Placing their exact ages isn't easy. One is dressed in dark black robes, a blank white mask covering her features. The other is in a dapper tan suit, a multi-pistoned scaffolding of machinery encompassing her right arm and shoulder, and a series of eyeglass lenses arranged artfully around her head. "Myself and Null," the latter gesturing to the former, "will help everyone disperse." The pistons on her armature begin pumping out a blue-gray mist that disperses along the ground, thick tendrils reaching up and soaking into your clothing. Where it touches the material begins mending itself together, then soot and blood liquifying and dripping to the ground. "Oh, and if we live through this and meet again, please call me Toymaker."

The one called Null silently pulls a cat skull from under her robes and concentrates on it. The minor greenery within parking garage withers and dies. Weeds that managed to spring up through cracks and small creeping vines along the pillars blacken and crumble away as she works her craft. Strangers within the crowd look more dull and gray, and your eyes tend to slide right past them as though they are just parts of the background. Those of you who are familiar with each other do not gray out, but even then their details are somewhat fuzzy in your sight. Once she finishes she puts away the cat skull, making a dismissive gesture for you to depart by your own means of choice.

Pixel approaches Ulrich, Dexter and, since he is standing nearby Geyser. "Uh, I guess you don't need that new set of clothes any more," she says to Dexter, while absent-mindedly fiddling with her own newly repaired clothes. "We should all probably head home, but ... what if that thing can track us? I'm feeling like they're might be safety in numbers, at least for a bit."

Geyser looks down at his own clothes and sees some singes and areas burned away, showing flaming red skin, as the mist weaves the missing fabric into reality, and nods to the fading silhouette he vaguely understands just called itself "Toymaker". "Thank you."

"That's a good idea. Hey, would you guys mind if I tagged along?"

"Yes, please," says Pixel. "The more, the merrier," though her voice sounds rather more anxious than merry.

"We can go to my place. It's not fancy, but my roommate could keep an eye out."

He pulls out his phone to send a text in Cantonese:
"Autumn, me & friends need to crash. Location TBD. Can you be our lookout?"

Dexter, who up until that point had been silently marveling over Toymaker’s handiwork after having thanked her for hers and Null's invaluable services, seemed to break away from his wonderment long enough to listen to Pixel’s suggestion. He had been tempted to say no at first, but thought better of it when he considered the undeniable wisdom behind the Adept’s idea and reluctantly nodded in tacit agreement to her proposal.

That didn’t mean he was without questions however. “This place of yours,” he interjected after Geyser had begun making arrangements for their place to lie low in for the night, “is it secured and warded in any way? And your roommate, how much do they know about,” biting his lip, the Orphan trailed off as he struggled to find the perfect word to sum up his inquiry, eventually resigning himself to a simple, “this,” while gesturing at everyone still within the parking lot with an indicative wave of his hand.

"We could also go to my place," Pixel says. "I should be able to set up surveillance cameras to keep watch for us. Though I guess someone would still need to watch them ..."

"That sounds a lot better. The building's monitored, but I don't have any wards. My roommate's cool. She goes by 'Autumn'. She's a nightowl, so we shouldn't need to sleep in shifts. She knows what we are, and she views us through a pop culture lens, but she knows she doesn't have the full picture. She's a little 'different' too, I'll introduce you."

Geyser's phone buzzes while they talk.
"Un-TBD the location and I show up. Or meet you halfway. You & friends in trouble...?"
He sends a message back.
"Not over phone. Meet halfway. Before you ask, no Qi."
His phone buzzes again. Autumn sent him a sour emoji.
">_< You don't owe me. Yet. So its fine"

Pixel gets a puzzled look on her face, not quite following whether Geyser was agreeing with her or not. "So we'll go to your place ...?"

"Oh, my bad. I meant your place. We can meet up with Autumn, and she'll watch your cameras."