1964-10-30 - The Haunting of Cassidy
Summary: In which an interrogation is done, someone is insane, and Cassidy gets possessed.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
constantine cassidy chance lamont 

Lucian goes home.

Time: 1:37pm, time to interrogate cultist assholes.
Location: The warded and magically innocuous brick building, Chinatown
Drinks: Scotch, gin, and there might be some Bourbon left

John Constantine and Chance apprehended one of the cultists that were ruining the lawn in the cemetery. Because he's a professional John put the unconscious bloke in a locked steamer trunk in the middle of the 'workshop' space on the first floor that was, as Aloys (the former occupant) left it, a fekkin mess of arcane bullshit and things that should not be shaken lightly.

A call was carried up the stairs, "Caaaaaass. We got company, mate." A glance to Chance who was presumably carrying the other handle on that box was in tow. "Now we wait for one more and we wake this wanker up." He wandered over and rang up Lamont. It was a short call. "Lamont? John. You knew I was going to call which is why you picked up and if you didn't want to get involved you'd have let it rang. I'm onto you, old man." The term was not said without an affectation to it. He had utmost faith in the man's ability, so much so he was the ultimate pain in the ass to ever tel him when or where or what was happening. He just expected him to know. If he couldn't sort it? Must not be the ral Shadow. It was like his own personal Buddha; one with zen and flexible morality.

The sound of John hollering is enough to stir Cassidy from whatever he was off doing when they arrived. The vampire appears in the doorway and says, "What's all the racket about? Ah, well, if it isn't me dart buddy. You two know each other? Figures." He ambles on over toward the chest and says, "Let me guess, another bird in a robe?" He squints at the trunk but doesn't touch. Instead he just leans over it and looks then leans back, sliding hands into his pockets. Look at him being good.

Apparently Lamont's like Voldemort. Naming names does call him, even if it's not his true name. He does appear with surprising speed - perhaps intuition was nudging him in this direction already. But in short order there's a tall, rather dour man in a good gray suit at the door, knocking softly. Nothing to indicate those particular extracurriculars he indulges in.

Chance doesn't know anything about magic, but he knows something about investigation and part of that is reading people, so he helps out with John carrying the box. He glances at the others, and inclines his head to them. He's all in black, save there's a black mask hanging off the back of his head, and he's got a pair of batons in a scabbard upon his back. He looks sidelong to John, "These people know about… stuff like this?"

Constantine said plainly to Chance, "We are things like this. Ah!" He opened the door when it was lightly tapped on, "Lamont, you did miss me. Lamont, Chance. Chance, Lamont. Looks like you both know m'mate, Cassidy and if you don't you'll fekkin figure it out. So. Here's the situation," He waded in and looked like he'd been in a fight, which was true, and that he'd been very busy, which was also true.

"THUMP" went the inside of the steamer trunk.

"I," John squint at the trunk and kicked it, "I'm remiss to inform, Cass, it's not a bird in a night dress again. Poor us, I know. Tonight it's a bloke in a box who is part of some cyclical ancient cell of cultists that tried to sacrifice a 11 year old lad in a cemetery." He looked to Lamont like Cheers, thank me later.

There's a round of introductions and Cassidy chuckles at John's answer to Chance's question. "Well, he's not wrong," the man says. Then there's a look of vague disappointment followed by momentary consideration, then a shrug before he plops himself down on some crate stored down there covered in dust. "A'right then. So, when do the beatin's commence?"

His voice is immensely dry, as Lamont drawls, "Yes, I know *all* about such things." He doesn't sound happy about the knowledge. "I'm Lamont Cranston, and I once had the privilege of teaching John. I remain, as magicians consider such things, his master to some extent. A pleasure to meet the both of you." John gets an inclination of his head. Then he adds, at Cass's question…..and his tone has gone disturbingly flat, "There is no need to beat him. He will tell me what we want to know."

Chance can't help but look a little skeptical on this magic talk, but he shrugs, "I'm a mutant. I control gravity. I saw them kidnap the kid and followed until there was an opening where I could kick their ass with some chance of success." he explains. He does add, "They're all weird and wearing masks. Mostly cheap, crappy masks, at that. No taste at all." He shakes his head slowly. He can't help but look a little disappointed as Lamont makes it clear there's not going to be any beatings.

Constantine shifted a look to Lamont and said in just as dryly, "Yes. You taught me divination which is how I knew you'd be here. Well done." He nodded to Cass as Chance gave the run down. "'s true. Saw it." Lamont said no need. He blinked at Cassidy and turned to Lamont and said as if just being benevolent, "Well he came a little pre-beat. Really, it'd be almost indecent of us to disappoint him like that." He went about setting up the rest of the markings on the circle within a circle. the idea to those that did these things, was imprisonment. "Right. Let's get cracking." For all the aloof language he wasn't amused. The kick to the trunk was driven by a different feeling than curiosity. John popped the trunk, grabbed hair and the shirt of the wanker in a box, and forcibly righted him. The man had burns on him and was beat a bit to hell and back. Likely it was the other end of all those bruises Constantine was sporting.

The minion is trembling, his expression full of fear, "Please don't kill me!" He's peed himself.

"Oh no," Cassidy says as soon as Chance talks about the mask wearing folk, "Oh no, not these fuckers. These here fuckers, they tried to kidnap a kid off the street while he was carryin' some groceries. Bunch of them, but some of them had crappy masks an' some of them had real fancy masks, and they all went and turned into what their masks looked like and were all.." and at this point he fakes this voice that sounds like a cross between a drunk and a school girl, "BOW DOWN BEFORE ME. THE … uh… THE HOUSE WILL HAVE YOU ALL.. blah blah," and then his voice goes back to normal, "More bullshit.. " then he looks at Chance and says, "Fuckin' clowns, man.. fuckin' clowns." Then he eyes Lamont up and down and says, "Y'sure we can't beat'm at least a little?"

"After, perhaps," Lamont says, and for all that his words are gentle, there's a force behind them. "It will be easier for me if he's not in more pain than his already is," Calmly, he steps forward so he's closest to the minion, all the better to scare the pants off him if need be. But as he observes the minion, his brow furrows. Something here is not right. "John, you found him as one of the cultists, correct? You all captured him?" He waves an impatient hand at Chance. "No. Leave him be." To the minion he says, and his voice has the snap of command in it, "What is your name?"

Chance's expression turns grim at Cassidy, "Did the kid have any powers that showed up? Was he a mutant? Are they about.. mutants?" That makes him angry, but he nods his head to Lamont, and steps back, crossing his arms and trying to look menacing.

The minion is all, "D-D-Donny Black! I'm not in any cult! Why are you doing this to me? What's going on? Please just let me go and I won't tell the police or anyone or anything at all!"

Constantine nodded to Lamont and said simply, "well I can't un-set him on fire, mate." John set someone on fire? Noted. He didn't seem to feel back about this. "Yes, he's one of the cultists." His attention though shifted back to Cassidy. His face froze in consternation, but there was a palpable anger that kept him very, very still. "Right. So we find the cock weasels. We put an end to this." When 'Donnie' asked what's going on he wanted to tell him. He absolutely wanted to tell him when, how, where, and why to fekk off, but Lamont was speaking to him and there was respect for the craft to do what needed to be done, reveal what needed revealing, and to make it be as painful as possible when the situation called.

Cassidy nods his head to Chance and says, "The kid seemed to be.." he waves his hand really fast in front of his face, "Kind of blurring a little as he went. He was somethin though I couldn't tell you what off the top of me head. Mutant possibly. Somethin' else? No idea. But they clearly wanted that kid. Then of course I went and told'm I wasn't mortal and they wanted a piece of me which, clearly they didn't get. But, oh by the way John, they might be comin' for me which'll make'm much easier to catch. Yer welcome." There's a bit of a grin that follows that.

"Hush," says the Shadow, oh so softly. To the room at large, it seems. He turns his left hand, exposing the stone of the ring to Donnie, lets its faint glow fill the unfortunate man's sight. It's a dark opal, but there's a play of fire in it that seems like it should need stronger light to call out. Like a worm of embers, twisting and gyring. The other hand cups Donnie's face, still gently, fingers splayed from temple to jaw. "I believe you," he tells him. "I'm going to help you. You needn't be afraid." He can strike like a hawk, or steal in like smoke through a crack in a door. It's the latter method he uses now, insinuating himself into the panicked mind before him. "Tell me - what is the last thing you remember before you woke here?"

Chance frowns towards Cassidy, and shakes his head, not in denial, but disliking the message. But he goes quiet, because Lamont tells him to hush.

Donny shakes his head slowly, confused, afraid. "I was walking home. Some guy in this mask came up to me, he knew my name. He kept repeating it? Then he gave me a mask and said not to worry about it, but next time I see him, to put it on." He shrugs, "Then… a few days later, he knocked on my door? Then I went to get the mask and put it on… then I was in the box. I don't know why you took me!"

Constantine was set off by this bloke, but as the tale went on he didn't watch the detainee, he watched Lamont. His bruised eye squint and he jsut paid very close attention to what wasn't said and that look he's seen on rare occasion. Dammit. He sighed, but stopped shifting a look to Cassidy and his very serious expression flashed a smirk to teh vampire. Cheers. That's a right good time comin our way. Well done, Cass. it seemed to convey. He walked back over letting his arms fold across his chest and standing into his heels.

Cassidy is actually capable of shutting up and when Lamont raises his hand, he falls entirely silent. Though there's a deep frown as the kid's story begins to unravel. He slumps a little. Well, so much for administering beatings, also because the kid seems possibly innocent, but mostly because no beatings. Though he does catch the look from Constantine and gives him a flash of a grin. His attention then returns to the kid and Lamont.

He may be a master of fear, but there are less abrasive methods in his arsenal, it seems. Lamont smooths Donnie's hair back from his temple, lightly, like a mother soothing a feverish child. "I understand," he says, and there's reassurance there. "Think about the man who gave you the mask. Picture him in your mind, as sharply as you can. Show me," Concentrating entirely on this one, who seems as much a victim as the child they nearly caught.

The kid shrugs, and thinks of the man in the mask. BUt there's nothing to it. "Please just let me go, okay?"

Constantine walked over and fished out the mask he took off of Donnie Black. It had some smoke damage. Ahem. He didn't get it anywheres near Donnie but held it that all in the room could see it. "This is the mask here we found you wearin, mate. There's holes in your story we're gonna need to patch up first. Namely, why would you just listen to this jackass in a mask Cass, they look like this?" He looked to Lamont/Kent and asked quietly, does he genuinly remember nothing?"

"So, the blokes with the masks that I saw, were all pretty aware of what was goin' on right? They were all maskless when they were stalkin' the kid. So they put the masks on, and then the leader, she was a Jester right? She comes up and starts puttin' the whammy on the kid, like a .. enchantment of some sort, so the kid got all woozy and agreeable like he was going to put on the mask. But then I smashed it out of his hands and he ran like hell. So, I'm thinkin… that the kid here is one of the ones they captured, maybe, put the whammy on him so that's why he doesn't know what's going on with the mask." He glances at the mask, and then at the others, "Or.. not. But alls I'm sayin' is… is this just a regular kid or is there somethin' special about him? Also.. John, when your guys had their masks on did they turn into things? Like, one had a bear mask and then suddenly was a fuckin' bear.. big and furry and the whole.. " He looks back over at the kid. "Because my theory here is whoever they're capturing, maybe they're suckin' their power out of them or somethin' for their chained God thing and then spittin' them out… drained? Maybe? All speculation of course, an' I'm a bit drunk so.. take it with a grain of salt.. but not john's circle salt.. or the chalk. Remember, salt on dinner, chalk on the floor."

"Possession," Lamont says, easily, glancing up. "And you're right. He knows nothing. Drained of memory, at the very least. When we're done, I'm going to erase his memory of us. There's nothing out of the ordinary that I can see about Donnie here." To Constantine, he says, "Mental domination. I could do something like that to someone - implant a command they carry out, and then have no memory of after." …..did he just admit to being one of the cultists?

"I… don't know." Donny shakes his head slowly, "He told me not to worry about it… so I didn't worry about it. Then I saw him and he told me to wear the mask when I saw him again, so I did."

Chance considers, "There was a trigger. The man told him: when you see me again, put it on. So it sounds like there was an implanted suggestion, and a trigger event.." He looks to Cassidy, "What if those people— they were maskless too— were 'whammyed', and then a trigger made them put on the masks. What if the guy who gave him the mask, someone *else* gave *him* a mask? Is there anything special about the masks? What would happen if he put it on again? Or if I did? I don't mind volunteering to test."

Constantine stood there and let them talk turning the mask over in his hands. He brought it over to the work bench and brought the sage out to smudge it. Lakota white sage he was fond of for that purpose. Lamont was welcome to poke at it but a finger went up to Chance. His beady brown eyes squint and shortly thereafterboth eyebrows slowly went up. "I think I got somethin, mate. Do not… put that on. Not unless you like being a Chance suit." He looked to Lamont and ppointed to him and then the mask, "Don't let anyone put that on. I think we're going to need a jar." What for was anyone's guess but he called out, "Cass you've been through Aloys' shite more than any of us. Clay jar, can you help me find one?"

|ROLL| Constantine +rolls 1d100 for: 50

|ROLL| Chance +rolls 1d100 for: 99

"Right, crockery, got it," Cassidy says as he pulls himself off the box, "Anyone want tea?" He asides to Chance, "I fetch things, administer beagings, taunt mystical powers I don't understand, shake the doodads that ought not be shook.. and make tea. Oh, and I'm a vampire." And then he ambles off to find a jar. It won't take him long, because John's not wrong. He has probably poked, shaken, or at least looked at nearly everything in the house. That he's still in one piece is impressive, or just really fucking lucky. Eventually he comes back with a clay jar, glancing inside, squinting, and then handing it over to John.

|ROLL| Cassidy +rolls 1d100 for: 15

"He's got a spell wound on him," Lamont adds, after a moment. "Trying to hide itself, but….it's like a bloody great electrical wire. For moving current. John, give it a look. See if it goes anywhere." He's trying himself - does it lead anywhere other than this unfortunate fool. Then he turns to peer at the mask, as if the link might be evident there.

"A … chance suit?" asks Chance of Constantine, then looks at Lamont, then back, between. Really, his thing is fighting. But, he waits for Cassidy to return, "What do you mean 'chained God'? You mentioned that before, he spoke of possession, chains and possession sound like related concepts to me."

"Oh, right, the chained.. god of the House of whatever it is.. so the Jester chick had a real fancy silver mask and she put it on, and then all of a sudden I guess she channeled whoever the head honcy of this little magical mystery cult was. Because all these silver chains came out and she was spouting off how all the mortals must kneel which… may have been when I mentioned I wasn't kneelin' on account of not bein' mortal. She didn't like that. Now, her boyos didn't take too much to fight, but when she was all possessed by the big guy, girl, whatever… then she meant business and I got the hell out. Jus' wanted to give the kid a head start." Cassidy says, mostly to Chance.

Constantine took teh jar from Cassidy, "Ah, cheers, Cass." He fished out a few things setting the mask down and murmured, "Mask has two enchantments on it: one to mask that it has bloody enchantments on it and the other… is an actual living soul." And this, this is why Lamont let the necromancer live 40 some odd years ago; for moments like this. He fought with the thing for a while switching from latin to ancient Hebrew. He shoved his sleeves up and contemplated pulling the big guns out on this one: completeing the sigil where the tatoos on his forearms would meet. He just didn't want to open up a rift to hell and possibly suck up half the room in the banishment of such things. "Bloody First of the Fallen." John Constantine was breaking a sweat on this one. He pointed one angry finger at it. "That's who I'll call in to have a looksee. Now," He found his drink that he set down when he came in, sammed that and went over to have a look at what Lamont was peering at. He squint hard. He urmured to no one in particular, "They stole a soul last night, but I don't believe it was the lad's. I think they were using him as a conduit, but they took one. DOnnie. I'm going to meed you to read this and hold this palm leaf in your left hand. It's hte Lord's prayer in reverse and if you get to the end start over as many times and you have to." Like an early Judas Priest he was.

The Shadow's face has gone grim indeed, at that. "Wait a moment," he says, "You can invoke the Lone Power, John?" It's like finding out your kindergartner has learned how to make nuclear weapons at school when you weren't paying attention.

Donnie blinks slowly, and lifts his hand, and holds the palm leaf in his left hand, and in the right the poem, and he begins… reading. Backwards. Which is sort of hard but he does it.

Cassidy looks over at the mask while the others are talking after having handed over the jar. He considers it for a moment and then says, "You know.. if we're not gettin' anything out of the kid then maybe someone just really needs to pop this baby on." And then he just reaches out and picks it up and pop's it right on his face. It's like The Mask, but with less Cuban Pete. Cassidy. Shaker of things that out not be shook.

The moment the mask (ironically, a cheap plastic mask of a vampire) is on Cassidy's face, his demeanor changes slightly. The mask speaks: a man does not speak wearing the mask, the *mask* speaks, its mouth moving, sound coming out as a mask can not possible do: as this exact mask did not do the night before when John subdued it. "I am Thirst for Glory! I am called by the Lord Clad in Chains to serve him! The House of the Masks have raised him again, but this will be the Final Rising, for this is the Age of Mysteries, and he is the Devourer of Mysteries! You will serve or you will be made to serve! The Lord Clad in Chains commands it!"

Constantine blinked, "I bloody owe him enough favours. He can owe me this one." It was entirely TOO matter of fact. How intwined was he to his own destiny or his craft that bound him to arbitrarily call down the Morningstar on speeddial. THe COnstant One nodded to Lamont. That's how far the rabbit hole went and further were some of the other rumors to be true. "For now it looks like he's attuned but- Bloody hell, Cass! Some help?" Which was to Lamont and Chance clearly. "You're a thirst for something and it's gonna be my boot in a minute. Mask. Off. Now."

"God all-bloody-mighty, you…." Double-barreled foolhardiness from both John and Cassidy has Lamont momentarily speechless. But the moment that other presence makes itself known…..there's an odd transformation in him.

It's as if he's lit by some other source than the room's own ambient light - shadows harsh and angular gather about him, and his face is somehow changed into something else, unrecognizable. The pale eyes burn, and his voice goes metallic and flat, as he says, "John, hold." It's the Shadow here in truth, and not that mundane alter ego. His own particular brand of magic reaches for the mind manifesting from the mask. Donnie was a pushover, but this is a true power and a worthy opponent. Can he hold it and make it submit to his will?

Chance has his two batons off a moment later, falling into a combat stance, but he doesn't engage. "Shouldn't we… interrogate him while we have the opportunity?"

"Fools." hisses the masked Cassidy, his hands flexing, and from each finger extending a long, blood red talon. "You think to command ME? I gave my mystery and my life to the Lord and in return he has giving me immortality! I was no one, a stupid girl who let her father beat her because I was different. I didn't know I was special, and that the Lord could make me a power of ages. Don't you see? You each have mysteries as well." The voice changes, "John." There is something deeply compelling about the voice, something hard to ignore. "John. You will need never die, never face any consequences in heaven or hell, if only you surrendor, and allow the Lord to embrace you. You will be more then you ever were, for you will be part of the House of the Masks, family, forever. John Constantine. John." Its… not… *quite*… mind control, but its a close cousin. Of course, John likely can bat it away with ease.

Constantine squint. "Cass, you're not a little girl, mate. I mean right now you're carrying on like a bloody lass, sure, but I wouldn't go that far." Oh the dry overtone. He was listening though and the frightening part was the mask had a really good offer on the table. It wasn't the tempting of the offer that was getting to him, it was that whatever it was was not wrong about his ambitions. Still, tired and reluctant, he reasoned, "Maybe true. But the price is too high and frankly? We've enough gods on all sides with empty promises. Got to do better than that. Give. Cassidy. Back. Let yourself go, luv. Chains bind. Stop being a puppet."

There was a Lamont here, a moment ago. But now there's not. IT's obnoxious how he does that. Let the mask and its inhabitant threaten and rave, he's had enough. Before it can realize just how close he's gotten, Lamont simply rips it right off Cass's head.

Pop. The mask comes off and Cassidy says, "I dunno what you blokes are on about. This thing doesn't even tingle.." and then it's off and he looks around, staring at those around him with a kind of, "So, what are we doin' now?" Nope, no memory from between picking it up and popping it on to its removal.

|ROLL| Constantine +rolls 1d100 for: 74

|ROLL| Chance +rolls 1d100 for: 56

Dear Kent,
The Collegia de Magica is pleased to inform you that your former
student, John Constantine, has finished his masters degree in
Advanced Necromancy when no one was paying very close attention.

Daniel Webster
The Dean of Dark Arts

It was very, very seldom John's composure broke but the puppet master had crossed the line. It was emotionally abusing souls, debasing their humanity, and worse? It was now messing with John's friends of which he already had very few. He didn't need help making their lives worse that was for damn certain. "I AM SPEAKING TO THE ENTITY INSIDE! In the Name of the holy Mother, St. Christopher, and St. Lucia, I banish you from control of this woman. You will bind her no longer!"

It was a terrifying cacophony of will as John, Necromancer and Knight of Humanity, fought and physically forced that soul out of the mask in thick black tendrils that dripped like tar for a moment before moving the trapped soul into the earthen jar Cassidy brought up for him. The mask in his hand shuddered and imploded into crumbling dust leaving one very, very Irritate Constantine holding the jar closed, and the tattoos on his arms glowing red like embers.

Which tattoos bear discussion later. Lamont has questions, many questions indeed. "Nice work," he says, drily, as he reappears from whatever invisibility he was invoking. John confronts evil directly. Lamont snekas up on it and shoots it in the back of the head.

Cassidy just throws it on his face and sees what happens, which to him, was apparently nothing. "A'right then.. that worked! I'm gonna go make some tea." And off he ambles to do so, unless someone seems inclined to stop him. "Y'want me to put the jar somewhere so's no one accidentally drinks her mistakin' her for a nice Darjeeling?"

Chance…blinks. "What just happened? Did you capture this 'Lord of Chains'?" he asks of Constantine, his brow furrowed, "Or…the girl who was controlling Cassidy?"

Constantine took a deep breath and blinked tired, and out of breath at Lamont and Chance, then just Cassidy all la dee da. Really? Nothing much slowed the lad down. He murmured to Kent, "I had good if not questionable role models." He tossed Kent/Lamont a wink and squint to Cassidy, "A Darjeeling with an exorcism? Ginger Rooibos or a Chamomile. Goes better with adreneline and brimstone." Back to the dry humor though his eyes ligered in a serious expression to make sure Cassidy was, in fact, alright. He didn't answer Chance at first but offered in a murmur pulling the brick and moarter of alleged aloofness back up around him. "Not the self-called god. The woman, mate. The woman is in the jar. Cass," He looked back to the vampire and nodded, "Yeha let's get her labeled and someplace safe until we can identify who she is . Give her time to cool down. Interrogate her maybe again later." Ohgod more Necromancy. Fun shit. "Controlled environment and not half arsed." Looking to Lamont and Chance he followed up with them as well. "We good?"

"She's praying," Lamont's voice is oddly distant, cool. He has that removed air he gets when he's concentrating hard on someone else's mind. "Ishad, the Lord clad in chains, the devourer of mysteries, the voice in the masks." A beat, and he adds, "She at least thinks he's a god, indeed."

Cassidy seems just fine, of course, to him, nothing happened. "I know the woman is in the jar. I gathered that. I was askin' what you wanna do with the bird or if you're jus' gonna carry her around like a teddybear." He shrugs his shoulders then and looks over to Chance and says, "That Lord of Chains bloke was no joke. When he possessed the Jester chick there were literal chains man, all over the place, an' he was powerful — powerful enough I didn't want anythin' to do with stickin' around for a chat on me own." There's a glance over at Lamont and he jerks a thumb in that direction. "That'd be the one."

"'Devourer of mysteries'? Didn't she say she gave her mystery to him— and he ate it? And something about Age of Mysteries? What the hell is a mystery?" Chance shakes his head, but he nods around, "Okay… like. Let me know if you get anything out of her in the interrogation that needs street-level searching out. I don't know anything about magic, but I know the town." He gives Cassidy a long look, "That sounds alarming. So chains is not so much metaphorical."

Constantine was beat, let him tell you all about it, buddy. Still his head, though screaming, was in the game. "If it's the age of mysteries, which seem to be on the menu- thanks Cass," As he's doing the legwork to get the tea, "let's be careful they aren't going to accidentally bring about the End of Days. We have things to do and frankly I think we all deserve to know if GIlligan will ever get off that island." Important things. He looked to Chance and offered, "Meet us back here three nights? We'll get the take out and see what else we come up with. We find masks: boxes. Bring em in. We'll.. get he souls sorted. When the Lord of Chains is dealt with? well… we'll see about putting them where they belong." Until then John brought a pillow case with manuals and ID in them over to Chance and forked them over. "Here's the ID we collected on the participants. We only caught one of them so hopefully the rest will give us addresses to find some of the others. We can search their flat. See if we cna find the masks and maybe spare them the possession." He looked to Lamont and Cass. "We play this right we might be able to prevent people from doing things they don't mean to and getting fewer people hurt." It really was a goal, contrary to popular belief.

"Agreed. John, I intendto consult the doctor on this," Lamont's voice is low, dry. "Do you object? He should know of this, considering the scale. Or have you already spoken to him?"

Constantine says, "I did, but bring me in. I'd like to hear his input"

Cassidy goes home.

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