Barr Lake State Park

Ihsan Ghali
Barr Lake State Park:  flat and grassy and full of Canadian Geese, this time of year.  The park area itself was flat, and the snow-capped Rocky Mountains loomed in the near distance, cutting a tall and rigid black outline into the night.  There were no boats out on the lake this time of night, but the trails were always open for hiking and jogging.

The trail circled the entirety of the lake, close enough to have a constant near view of the edge.  One side of the lake was reserved for boating and fishing, while the other half was cut off to make a wildlife reserve.  The murder happened somewhere near the northwest corner of the lake, in a bayou that was a common fishing nook for those familiar with the area-- a sweet spot of many good fish.  This entire bayou was cut off as a crime scene, none of the public allowed in while police both roamed and protected the area, preventing the camera crews gathered from venturing further forward.

Ihsan had hiked her way out onto the trail about a quarter of a mile away from the crime scene, and was standing on the flat, open, largely treeless land with what, in the dark, looked like a large hiking stick in her hand that she was leaning lightly and casually into.  She was looking forward, surveying the scene, planning her approach.  In the slim dull light of the crescent moon above, she gave the impression of a lioness surveying the Savannah, on the hunt for wildebeast.

River Vasquez
"Ugh."

River Vasquez, in the very short amount of time that she has been in Denver, has developed a genuine hatred for Canadian geese. She understand that the serve some greater purpose, that Canadian geese have done nothing to cause her ire save for be menacing when she's trying to do yoga, and yet she still can not kick her irrational dislike of those stupid birds and their stupid long necks and their weird hissing noises and the fact that they walk around like they own wherever they are. She's not seen goslings. Doesn't know that baby geese can be really adorable, so for now they are nothing but animals to draw her utter ire.

Or, perhaps, it has more to do with the fact that she spent her entire evening with people who thought that shoving a twenty in her g-string meant that they could get her phone number. It did not mean this. She did the job for the gossip, and for now she was waiting to hear more about the supposed turf issues in Federal. Trying to figure out who worked where, find out who dumped bodies where and called it good. Turf is an issue, see. She knows this much.

Walks up along a trail with her bag over her shoulder and sunglasses pushed down over her eyes. She could be anyone. Really, River looked like a trophy wife who was probably just oblivious to the fact that someone had been killed in the place that she probably does her afternoon yoga. She was looking for a vantage point, somewhere that she could actually get a good look at the crime scene without having to make the approach, seeing if something maybe was going to hit her as inspiration and she could move forward.

The woman was wearing a pair of tennis shoes with treads on them for trail running. She didn't like having to buy more than a couple pairs. This one's worn in, but it hasn't seen much real trail time.

She comes upon a person, though, and maybe she had been in her own little meditative world but she was... not expecting another human here.

Here at the perfect spot to stare at a crime scene.

"It's a shame the view's ruined," she said, her voice giving way tot he fact that she hasn't grown up around native speakers of English.

River Vasquez
(Ahem. Heather believes in things like "Appropriately discussed time stamps" ONe moment *hides post under the rug*)

River Vasquez
"Ugh."

River Vasquez, in the very short amount of time that she has been in Denver, has developed a genuine hatred for Canadian geese. She understand that the serve some greater purpose, that Canadian geese have done nothing to cause her ire save for be menacing when she's trying to do yoga, and yet she still can not kick her irrational dislike of those stupid birds and their stupid long necks and their weird hissing noises and the fact that they walk around like they own wherever they are. She's not seen goslings. Doesn't know that baby geese can be really adorable, so for now they are nothing but animals to draw her utter ire.

Or, perhaps, it has more to do with the fact that she spent her entire evening with people who thought that shoving a twenty in her g-string meant that they could get her phone number. It did not mean this. She did the job for the gossip, and for now she was waiting to hear more about the supposed turf issues in Federal. Trying to figure out who worked where, find out who dumped bodies where and called it good. Turf is an issue, see. She knows this much.

She'd gone over part of the place during the day, just the boring parts of the park. Did her yoga, tried to focus, see if anything jumped out at her or if she had ever had an experience in the past that would trigger some insight. She's got nothin'.

In the dark, she could be anyone. Really, River looked like a trophy wife who was probably just oblivious to the fact that someone had been killed in the place that she probably dropped her iPhone while trail running. She was looking for a vantage point, somewhere that she could actually get a good look at the crime scene without having to make the approach, seeing if something maybe was going to hit her as inspiration and she could move forward.

The woman was wearing a pair of tennis shoes with treads on them for trail running. She didn't like having to buy more than a couple pairs. This one's worn in, but it hasn't seen much real trail time. She comes upon a person, though, and maybe she had been in her own little meditative world but she was... not expecting another human here.

Here at the perfect spot to stare at a crime scene.

"... should I have brought marshmallows?"

Like this is the world's most awkward camp out.

Ihsan Ghali
The person that River came upon was a dark figure in the dark light, made to seem like a shadow brought to life.  She was dressed in a pair of Levi jeans and a pair of hiking boots that looked new and pricey.  She had a black T-shirt on, V-necked and fitted as opposed to loose, and a black leather jacket that was cropped up and appeared more for fashion than warmth.  The nights were unseasonably warm, here on the lower ground anyways.

She noticed River approaching before she spoke up, so Ihsan had turned to look at her as she came alongside her.  The quick turn of the head, alongside the aforementioned impression of a lioness, made her face seem nearly feline-like for a second.  She had dark eyes, black in the night, that were opened wide and watchful, and her nose was shaped just so as well.

But no.  A person.  Something more, if you looked well into it, but not to the immediate eye.

Lips quirked a small smile after a moment of regard had passed, and she inspected River quickly while she answered.  When she spoke, her voice was like dusk and accented heavily with Africa-- Northern, specifically.

"And roasted hotdogs," she added.  Then, with a snerk to herself, "Pigs."

"Are you here with the media?"

River Vasquez
She's close to five and a half feet tall. Black yoga pants, zip up sweater. Her hair's in a ponytail, and she's got a tee shirt underneath. Sports bra that's pretty well guaranteed to make sure she could keep a steady pace running without feminine distractions. It was dark, but something felt like sunshine.

No, someone felt like sunshine. When she came by there was a feeling of warmth, of brightness, of something that felt like an ember that would not die down simply because the day had flickered away. Reflected in moonlight, reflected in intentions, she's there. Committed. Not strange in the slightest because she smiles and it seems warm, a figurative thing that comes with her literal presence.

"I am trying to keep as much pork out of my diet as possible," she tells Ihsan. There's a cadence that River has, something that is indicative of the fact that she would be just as comfortable speaking Spanish as she would English. She isn't pawing for words, though. Isn't faltering and pretending like she doesn't know the ins and outs of playing nice with people.

"Not the media," she said, "just a concerned citizen. I don't like not knowing the full story. Private detective?"

Ihsan Ghali
[Perception 2+ Awareness 2: Where's that sunshine coming from?]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 5, 6) ( success x 1 )

Ihsan Ghali
The woman was warm like the sun, energy seeming to come from her core even in the nighttime.  Ihsan looked at her openly and sharply, like she was studying and scanning for intention, or something deeper.  Well-maintained eyebrows rose up on her forehead after a moment, and when she smiled the expression was friendly with intent but a bit sharp none the less.

"The police would call it nosy," she said again in that heavy-like-perfume accent.  Her English was well versed, her sentences complete and coherent, but there was no shaking the Egypt from her tongue.  She had been speaking Arabic alone for most of her developmental years, and had only come to the country a short time ago.  She picked up on English as quickly as anyone can hope, but lazy and inexperienced ears may have a hard time making her out on occasion.

Private detective? River had asked, and Ihsan's smile got wider.

"You figured me out so quickly," Ihsan chuckled a little, and looked back out in the direction of the yellow tape and flashlights.  "The boys in blue still look busy.  I don't think anybody could go unnoticed by them."

Why, Ihsan, are you planning on sneaking around?

River Vasquez
[Hmmmn, I'm curious about you... Per3+aware2]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 5, 5, 10) ( success x 1 )

River Vasquez
Hmn.

There was a feeling.

She couldn't quite put a finger on it, couldn't hammer it down specifically to Ihsan but she had a feeling. A hunch, as someone might call it. A gut reaction. The police would call her nosy, and it does make River laugh. Cheeks turn pink because she blushes so easily. But it's true, River is nosy. She saw something and couldn't help but want to put herself in the middle of it because...

Because. She doesn't need to discuss her reasons with everyone, now does she?

"They just need to be distracted. And whoever is going to look around needs to make sure that they are... uh... efficient with what they're doing?" She does take a second, cocks her head to the side and tries to place  the accent.

Looks at her again.

"Lybia or Egypt?"

Ihsan Ghali
"Ahh, your ear is sharp," Ihsan said, still smiling.  The expression didn't look like it should exist permanently on her face-- she was somewhere in her early or mid twenties, by the look of her, but her cheeks were not shaped in a way that suggested she smiled while resting her expressions.  Not entirely a resting bitch face, not so much as a resting serious face.  Though the jacket masked the general shape of her shoulders and arms, the look of her waist and legs and neck suggested athleticism-- she was trim, probably jogged every day.  Or she was just born looking like that.

"Egypt.  Cairo, actually."

But the mention of efficiency and distraction had her looking back at River intently.  She was honed in and listening, paying much less mind to the crime scene within easy approaching distance.

When she spoke, it was slowly, like she was thinking aloud while simultaneously making a suggestion.  Making plans for them without waiting for River to necessarily consent to anything.

"If you were to pick one of the two, would you say you are a better sneak or a better distraction?"


River Vasquez
"My Arabic professor was from Lybia. I like languages," she says, smiles but seems content to leave it at that. There are defining traits about River that float around, eventually it does come out in most circles that she speaks an inordinate number of languages, fluently, dabbles in even more, is currently making progress through German though it sounds completely alien when she tries.

She looks back at the scene, thinks through her tendencies and capacity to be very hysterical in a very genuien way at the way crime scenes can definitely look and concludes-

"Distraction," she tells Ihsan, "can you get what you're looking for quickly? How many people have you seen so far?"

Turns her attention back to the crime scene. Yes, she is a strange bird. Yes, she is planning to disturb a crime scene with a stranger, but she's a stranger that River has a good feeling about.

Ihsan Ghali
"I found English needlessly difficult," Ihsan admitted casually.  When the smile relaxed away her face was a serious thing to look at.  Pretty, with unmarked dark skin and camel-like eyelashes (that's what you get when you drop money on your mascara).  "But I suppose that Arabic would prove the same."

River stated herself a distraction, and the smile was back.  Oh, Ihsan liked her.  There was nothing quite so delightful as a stranger who didn't ask questions and was willing to do what Ihsan would consider the less glamorous job so that she could do her legwork herself.  She gripped with both hands the walking staff that stood above her own head-- this a tall thing, at least six feet tall, carved from blackwood with lines carved in, spiraling their way up and through.  The top curved into a gnarled looking shepherds crook.  Her weight leaned into it as she assured the other woman.

"Nobody sees me."  It's hard to tell if that was intentional or a poor grasp of English.  "Can you give me five minutes?"

If five minutes could be promised (or not, truthfully, she'd take whatever she could get), Ihsan nodded and started walking-- right off the trail and out into the grasses.

Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (3, 6) ( success x 1 )

River Vasquez
"I'm sure I can buy you five," she tells the Egyptian woman, goes through her purse. Rifles through. River looks harmless. At the end of the day, River really does just appear to be a nosy citizen who wants to know what is going on at what couldvery well be a very bloody, very disgusting crime scene and that makes her stomach turn.

Yep.

She was a good, authentic distraction.

River is starting to head on her way to go be that distraction before she pauses, "do you speak Spanish?"

Ihsan Ghali
"Not even a lick."

Ihsan didn't look back over her shoulder when she answered, but kept walking out into the night until she found a particularly tall patch of grass to vanish into completely, save for the topmost crook of her staff.  Without exchanging anything so much as a name, the women had a game plan and the Egyptian was on her way without anything else to be said.  For now, at least.

Once out in the grasses, Ihsan would walk out and out for several hundred meters before she started toward the crime scene.  She'd gone off the trail on the opposite side from the lake so she had room to move, and it was this side where the body had been found further up the trail.  She started nearer, but paused a healthy distance back from where the nearest officer was.

Found a patch of muddy dirt in the grass, and after a moment of thought she stuck the bottom of her staff into the clodding dirt and dragged it about in a wide circle.  Further circles and squiggles and lines were added in the middle until a crude alchemic circle was visible in the shadows of the night.  When it was completed, she glanced up ahead to where the officers were, then looked down and raised her staff up some, then jammed it down into the circle's center.

[They will all happen to look away at just the right time -- Entropy 2 + Mind 1, +WP, diff 4(coincidental, unique focus)]

Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (2, 10) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

River Vasquez
[Past Lives 3 - Once upon a time, I was good at lying]

Dice: 3 d10 TN8 (1, 4, 5) ( success x 1 ) [WP]

River Vasquez
There is a mission to be had, and she takes a second to lookaround, buddy grass along her way and she does her levle best to simulate the appearance of someone who has been wandering around lost for the better part of an evening. She probably fell and dropped a coupe times. She probably rose up her yoga mat just at the corners. Rolls it in the mud some, too, so it is at least a little muddy. So it looks like River has actually spent some time here.

And thus, the young woman meanders, wanders , and headed over to where she saw there were cops. She looks up and draws a deep breath. Gets nothing but her own mental feedback. Clearly, if River had ever been anyone who understood how deception worked, they certainly weren't sharing their asecrets tonight. A series of card sharks and charlatains and not a one of them is showing their hand.

She meanders towards the cops, dirty, and loudly speaking Arabic. THe best River can do is feign not speaking English. Her Arabic, however is spot on.

"Oh thank god it's the police! Hey! Oh my goodness, you have to help-" completely heedless of the police line. Loud and obnoxious and probably a little confusing.

Ihsan Ghali
For several seconds Ihsan was completely still, elbows out and arms flexed taut under the leather sleeves of her jacket, as though she had to grip tightly to the staff or she would lose reign of the Magick that she was manipulating.  She stayed standing this way, focused and tense, white-knuckled gripping the staff, and beneath where it digged into the earth a quiet and subtle crackling began.  Barely-there dull orange embers licked their way out in the grooves of the circle from beneath it, and soon they had spread their way along the lines to completely fill the lines in the earth.  The mark was scorched in place, and would be visible there until the next rain would come to fill the mudd back in.

With Magick pulled out of the Middle Realm and into this one, a sort of cloud found and seeped its way into the atmosphere-- a very fine mist that could be felt and breathed by those who recognized it, something that when inhaled gave the impression of the types of miasma that came forth from surfaces, plants, animals to fill the air when they've been ripped into.  This fell around the officers without them noticing, and manipulated the strings of luck and happenstance about them, within them.

With this done, Ihsan smiled that sharp smile of hers, felt the lick of adventure, and bent her knees so she was nearer to the earth, able to step more precisely and lightly.  The staff was dropped own to be held on a horizontal plane instead of a vertical one.

Like this, she crept into the crime scene.

[Dexterity 3 + Stealth 2, -2 diff from previous rote]

Dice: 5 d10 TN4 (5, 7, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )

River Vasquez
[Charisma+subterfuge+1 (past lives): I'm distracting!]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 5 ) [Doubling Tens]

River Vasquez
She is a sweet, charming sort of young woman, but the police are starting to find that River? Can not be negotiated with. At some point during her spiel about being lost in what is a pidgin mixture of Spanish and Arabic (because most people don't know the difference between either, and somewhere River feels saddened by white people), she is going on and on. Has started crying at this point, too.

She looks at one of the officers, who looked like he was going to come and tell her to leave because this was a crime scene, and throws her arms around him. Wails and sobs into his nice blue shirt and rambles about... well, at this point she's talking about yoga. Hysterical women cry about all sorts of things and at this juncture she is really, really holding on to this officer.

He looks uncomfortable.

There is a strange foreign woman who is crying on him and has a hug like a death grip.

Ihsan Ghali
Ihsan became one with the night.  She may as well have been made from shadow herself, for how well she blended into the background.  She moved deftly, her hiking boots making not a sound, stepping only on the softest of ground.  Her shoulders disturbed no grasses her staff weaved through the landscape just as she did.  It helped, too, that when Ihsan came near the officers would just happen to hear a bird, or have a thought, and turn away either to check things out in the opposite direction or distract one another by calling to fellow officers across the scene and walking to conjoin in conversation.

It was with the ease of a lioness in the grass that she found herself close to where the body had been found.  As luck so had it the officers were all elsewhere, making reports around the hoods of their cars, typing things into their portable laptops, speaking with Dispatch on the horn...

Nobody was looking, nobody would see her if they did, when Ihsan reached into her pocket and pulled out a small drawstring pouch made of royal purple velvet.  She clenched the strings in her teeth to hold it still while loosening the pouch with one hand, then reached out and poured fine powdered red salt onto the earth in a miniature version of another circle, not too unlike what she'd drawn further out from the scene and left burned into the mud.

With the circle poured she moved the staff's crook over the symbol and waved it a few times.  Her free hand tore fingers and nails into the dirt and clenched it forcefully as her eyes rolled back, gone to white, and she looked beyond this time and into the past.

All the while, the salts caught fire and burned in a low, dull ember into the earth that nobody noticed for Ihsan was just that lucky.

[Show me what magic what wrought here in the past: Time 2 + Prime 2, +WP, diff 4 (coincidental, unique foci)]

Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (5, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

River Vasquez
(doobeedoo)

Ihsan Ghali
Good, Ihsan thought to herself.  River's hysterical pidgin-Arabic was reaching Ihsan's ears, whispering at the edges of her consciousness while she looked back-back-back into Time.  Her eyelashes fluttered over the whites of her eyes, and she found herself bumping up against something strong.  She was feeling out for what Magick transpired here recently, and found herself sniffing around a black hole in the timeline of what mysticism this land had seen.  It was a gap that suggested it was blocked off intentionally, and she could feel that block and knew it was strong.

Knew it would take time and effort and perhaps even teamwork to tear it away and see what it was masking from those who sought Knowledge.

With a small seizing jerk of her arm she released her clenched hand in the dirt and hastily brushed her hand off on the thigh of her pants where she crouched.  Her eyes closed and fluttered open again, as she found herself swimming her way back to the Here and Now from where she'd been.

"Fuck.", she cursed to herself in Arabic, and slunk silently away from the scene.  Her five minutes were up, and she wanted to talk with River again before she left the scene entirely.  She had been helpful, and she had the distinct feeling that it was no Coincidence that they happened to meet.

Some handful of minutes later, and Ihsan was standing back in the very same spot that River had discovered her before.  She was leaned on a staff that had mud caked on its bottom, looking impatient but calm.

River Vasquez
The hysterics eventually die down, and she apologizes in broken English and goes back along her way, only to leave the cops a little confused and some of them very relieved that she was leaving. She seemed harmless enough, just a lost lady in yogapants who, with a lot of help, was pointed towards where the parking lot was. And she didn't head to the parking lot but that was beside the point.

It takes time, but she gets back to where she and Ihsan had met, something pings like hope on her senses, that the young woman hadn't just taken the information and bounced with it, stuck to leave River to engage in her own investigation, again, and wait for another time that she could bring Farrah to look at this.

She had no idea where or what Ihsan had done, or even that she was going to call her Ihsan.

"Denver has horribly unhelpful investigators," she laments.

Ihsan Ghali
"Ah, yes," the woman with the dark straight hair nodded sagely, both hands comfortably gripping the staff that she leaned on casually from where she stood at the edge of the running trail.  She'd watched River's approach instead of the world around her.  They weren't doing anything wrong, after all, so she worried not if anybody happened to spy them there.

It was one of the benefits of being a stranger-- it was highly unlikely that people were going to sniff out where you lived anyways.

"But it has very helpful pedestrians."  She smiled at River and nodded her head up the trail in the opposite direction from the crime scene, and indication that they should walk.

"You can call me Ihsan.  I wasn't able to find much in the dark, without much time.  I think it would be better to come back when the unhelpful investigator squad has left."

River Vasquez
"I'm just nosy," she said with a little smile. Her nose wrinkles up just a little, eyes alight. She's content to walk along with the strange woman who says her name is Ihsan.

"I'm River," she said, "do you want to meet here again tomorrow... around... noon? They should have cleared out by then, surely."

Ihsan Ghali
"Absolutely," was the agreement.  So a date was made.  They'd meet back here around noon.  Same place.  No phone numbers were exchanged-- Ihsan was going to trust that River would be tied here by her curiosity and her own self-assured charm, and River would just have to believe that Ihsan would follow up true to her word as well.

So they would walk-- perhaps the entire way back to the parking lot together.  Ultimately, though, they would have to part ways, as Ihsan got into her rental car and drove off back toward the city.

River Vasquez
[Dobeedoo. Breaking some warding with Prime]

Dice: 2 d10 TN8 (1, 1) ( botch x 2 )

Ihsan Ghali
[Breaking Wards!  Arete 2, Prime 2]

Dice: 2 d10 TN8 (1, 10) ( success x 1 )

jamie
http://www.sadtrombone.com/

River Vasquez
[This is, like, a sad 1 point of paradox to soak]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )

River Vasquez
River: Oww. Soak?

Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (1, 4) ( botch x 1 )