Still Waters disappears in the alleyway and whispers out syllables of power, calling upon the line of blood stretching from his veins back through time to pierce the veil between truth and lie. He feels the Nipissing return his call, feels the fundamental truth in everything around exposed to his Sight.
Right as Still Waters approaches the clinic, some girl bursts across the street from the club line and makes a beeline for him. He spins, covered by the alley and rain from most observers but clear to the obviously well-put-together girl. His face is covered by a translucent, partially-manifested shamanic mask of an impossibly ancient native man with lines of blood rolling down his face to fade away in the raindrops. The shaman's body is tense and coiled as a viper, his will calling his spirit allies to him.
Have they found me already?One hair's breadth away from commanding his allies to rend the girl's spirit from her flesh, Still Waters steels his will and quickly reassesses the situation. The fisher spirit bares its fangs at the girl from the astral and strains against its bonds.
I hunger, it growls. The ancestor spirit is more calm, but comments,
let me bend her mind and I can end this quickly.Still Waters matches the girl in his mind with one of the runners mentioned in the job offer. She's flailing an arm at him, calling him Johnathan as she flags him down. Immaculately dressed for impact, her every motion is perfectly calibrated to make men soft in the mind and hard elsewhere, but Still Waters doesn't react in that way. Even as he relaxes at her approach, his body language clearly states that invading his personal space is
not welcome. The shamanic mask dissipates quickly, replaced on his painted face by a polite smile.
"Hey you," he says in fake familiarity tinged with a heavy Quebecois accent.
"I didn't spot you back there." Thank you for answering so quickly, my friends, he sends to his allies and dismisses them back to standby in the metaplanes.
Composure test, 4 hits