2021-06-20 Where is that man Diego?
Where is that man Diego?
Participants: Artemis Cheree Esther Judith
Storyteller: Saoirse
Location: Lake Shrine Temple
Date and Time: June 20, 2021 midnight
Summary: A group of people track down the missing artist, Diego, and uncover that his mind is a complete mess! For reasons, even!
Artemis had been preparing for this for the last little while, but they had gathered these kindred because of their own personal interest in the matter, or knowing of them as a person, or because they trusted their abilities. Either way. They all gather, and once there, Artemis produces a single, white ribbon. There is a few moments where they just stand, murmuring quietly, hands moving through a series of arcane gestures, the ribbon itself acting like a cats cradle splayed between their fingers.
Eventually, they gesture with a sense of Finality, and there is a faint thrum to those with the arcane sensibilities to feel it, the Cradle is Taught and their eyes peer through, seeing something beyond what is visible to most of the others. They nod, tying the ribbon to their wrist definitively and offering a smile. "I have the path, if you would all care to follow me?" they offer a small nod, a friendly smile to each, particularly to Judith, who they had arrived with. <English>
Judith had lingered somewhere near the periphery, as she does. It starts as a strategic posture and a slow circling prowl but at some point she stopped doing that, pausing to simply watch the Tremere at work. Watching Artemis' hands. There's a subtle sense of her shaking something off before she nods, slight, slipping her own hands into her overcoat pocket. "Of course. Lead on." <English>
Esther knew a little magic. It's a talent that she always possessed. And it wasn't like she went out of her way, too far, to make a secret of it. Combined with whatever drew her to the scene that first night? She seemed a natural for this sort of thing. Her fingers working the arcane symbols with a certain amount of muscle memory for taking strange poses. Wrapping the ribbon through her fingers with moves that naturally made room for her long nails. Standing across from Artemis, mimicking the series of ritual motions.
"See?" Esther smirks a little bit, letting the ribbon unwind from her fingers as the working ends. "And now we just... Follow along," she says, to Cheree who had shown up in Esther's little pink convertible.
Cheree is Esther's +1. To be completely frank, the Ventrue neonate looks like shit. (Or at least, as much like hsit as someone with four dots of Appearance can look.) Cheree isn't wearing any makeup. She looks like she slept all day but didn't actually /rest/. Her hair, unwashed, is tied back behind her in a simple braid. She wears a black long-sleeved turtleneck bodysuit and black high-waisted skinny jeans. And black sneakers. Not even heels. Sneakers. It's like she's /trying/ to make Esther look bad. At least her handbag is expensive. Cheree has been sullen, silent, and various flavors of depressive all evening. Still, gray-blue eyes watch Artemis at work, and only once the ritual is finished does the Ventrue look sidelong at Esther. "Sheriff Lopez told me once that he could find someone if I just brought him this, like, really particular kind of ribbon. He even gave me the card of a haberdasher. I guess, like, they use it for hat bands? Still... this is... cool." Yes, Cheree. Magic is very cool.
Unlike the blistering heat experienced during the day of an LA summer, the evening air holds a little bit of a chill. Once Artemis completes the 'mysteries' of blood magicks, they soon discover the trail. A trail, apparently, only Artemis can see. Still, there's 'trust' in the Tremere. Either that, or the Tremere are leading you to your Final Death. But no, not tonight. At least, not at Tremere's hands. The path takes you away from the safety and comfort of Downtown Los Angeles and brings you closer and closer to the ocean shore. Leaving the comforts of known Camarilla territory and into West Hollywood and the unease of what's transpired there. It doesn't help that the more you get closer to the ocean, that the evening air takes on a colder chill. It's as if the the Cold Hand of Death has taken hold of the evening as you soon find yourself in the Palisades.
There, the trail leads to a shrine dedicated to self-realization. It's here in the gardens that one would find solace and peace from the rest of the world. Normally, the park closes at 4:30pm; however, in this World of Darkness, those are more like guidelines rather than actual rules. While staff and volunteers who tend to the gardens aren't here, that's not to say there aren't nocturnal visitors. It's within these gardens that there's almost an air of serenity. One could easily forget about the modern day world and the hectic pace of urban life. It's as if civilization has disappeared, and only the peace that comes with nature remains. Though, maybe not for everyone. After all, away from city life and the comforts that come with living in the city means that one has to rely on instincts and what comes natural. One could ride the Beast and be at one out here... but whose Beast? Will that be uncovered?
That path leads the group even deeper into the park. Into a meditative garden where all religions are welcome. 5 pillars denote the 5 most common religions, but other lesser known religions are welcome. The trail leads them right to a waterfall. It's in the pool of the waterfall that they see a naked Hispanic man. His back is turned as he rests his head against his raised forearm. He's allowing the fall of water to cascade over him, much like one seeking relief when one gets in a shower after a long day. It's clear that there's tension in the tattooed Hispanic man - and yes, his upper torso is a complete work of tattoo art.
Artemis arrives finally at their destination, stopping as they come to reach the Gardens. They untie the ribbon from about their wrist, folding it and it gets placed within one of their pockets. There is a moment that they take to just look at the area, taking in all the details and they hum quietly to themself. "Ladies." their voice is pitched back to the others, quiet. They gesture to the man in front of them. "Our friend." they grin faint;y. "I'll admit, my bedside manner isn't the best, so perhaps best if one of your approaches him. If only to prevent him bolting?" they raise a questioning eyebrow to them.
There was also the added benefit that it put that Blood mage at the exact range they were most comfortable with, should the worst come to the worst. "Just.... easy, yes?" they smile. "He's not done anything wrong by our standards, yet at least, and I'd rather this be as.... personable as possible." <English>
If Judith's even glancingly familiar with magic herself it's as some sort of spectator sport, as Artemis Whitlocke well knows. Perhaps she has some other range of talents, herself. It's also obvious she's not on chitchat terms with most of the others in the room, though certainly she could place names to most faces.
She's taken up a following position not too far behind the Tremere, behind and slightly to the right. She looms, a bit. At least the Toreador knew enough to dress in layers for abrupt changes in temperature, and draws her overcoat closed around her, seeming unsurprised at the temperature differential. Also? Completely unconvinced of the lure of safety or peace or serenity or /religions/ in any abruptly-changing landscape, let alone static ones. Her head's on a swivel, as they say.
Quietly, quietly, pitched for just the kindred: "I will handle it if he bolts, he cannot outrun me. Suggest the smallest sweetest least threatening of us eases over there first." Thereby excluding /herself/ for that immediate duty on every single point. <English>
"Well, isn't that a fun little trick!" Esther exclaims, as they group draws upon their target. She bats gently at Artemis' shoulder, smiling big. Earlier, she'd insisted on letting Cheree tag along- "She's having a really tough week"- and now, it seemed like it might even have been a useful choice. Considering that the Tremere and their friend... Well.
"Don't worry. We'll handle this. Cheree?" there aren't many who look smaller. And in her current state? Cheree maybe even came off as a bit sweet. At least, not threatening. "You go in and talk to him. And I'll... Be there, too."
Except... She's not there. Not unless you look closely. Very closely. And even then, only just barely. Her presence suddenly evading the eye. The blond blending into the background as she steps toward the bathing Diego.
Cheree nods along with Esther. "Thank you, Mx Whitlocke." Cheree pronounces it like 'mix.' "We'll do... we'll do our best." The Ventrue sounds half-hearted in this promise. Not from a lack of /care/, but rather from a lack of joy. Cheree rolls up the sleeves on her turtleneck, revealing her tattooed forearms. In truth, she's tattooed everywhere (even there), but right now her long-sleeves, long-pants outfit covers most of them. Even so: sleeves rolled up to her elbows, enough can be seen of Cheree's sleeves. Gory, edgy, occultish, spooky symbols and images threaded together in an intricate tapestry that goes all the way down to the backs of her hands -- true works of art, just like the bathing man's. Cheree approaches with her hands folded in front of her lap. "Excuse me," she says, her voice practiced-sweet. "Who did your back piece? It's /amazing/."
When Esther delves into Diego's mind, the immediate overwhelming thought 'WHY?! WHY DID YOU ABANDON ME?! WHAT DID I DO?!... the next thought is abstract, but it's something about 'bird people' attacking him, pecking at him, devouring his flesh?... the final bit of information you gather is The Eye of Horus and the benevolent protection that comes with the moon.'.
Artemis nods to Judith, smile warm. "Thanks. It'd be annoying to have to find him again." they laugh quietly. "I'll leave that in your more than capable hands." they seem, utterly at ease in the situation they've found themself in, the deep purple of their suit shifting darker in the Gloom. They nod along with Esther's words, a faint smile visible. "It has its uses." they agree with her, shaking their head, amused. "Though it's situational, of course." they huff. They'd had little trrrouble in allowing Cheree along. They'd never met her before, but the at least knew of her, if nothing else, and none had yet to gainsay it."
They nod, gesturing Cheree forwards. "By all means." they murmur quietly. "Just.... be gentle." they snort. They grin to Cheree, and they certainly do seem interested in how Cheree will approach this. They are perfectly content to let her take centre stage, as it were.
Their gaze travels across Judith and they incline their head, drawing her a touch closer, murmuring something quietly into her ear. Their eyes have fallen on Cheree's tattoos, an interested look crossing their features. They hum quietly. <English>
Judith reaches down and fingers off one of her expensive strappy heels at a time, her look now lighting fully on the bathing Diego. From here, she's going to watch for those little micro-changes in body language that potentially signal a thing, maybe fight or flight or freeze. Circling behind the Tremere to lean in for that whispered something-something, nods in passing. And now she's angling herself away from Artemis, making a little triangulated line of sight always with a clear sprinting shot and -- given the distance she still keeps, Judith must be /intensely/ confident of her own relative speed.
Shoes off and dangled in her left hand, Judith now notes /Cheree's/ tattoos, maybe for the first time. Goddamn there's a lot of really nice ink in Los Angeles. And so now she's also got eyes on Cheree. And also Esther. Maybe she's dismissed Diego for the time.
The naked man turns around to face the voices. For those that are observant, the man seems to be trembling. Or is it the jitters? Or hell, it's cold. He could be just shivering. And while he steps away from the waterfall and the lingering water now drips off his frame, it would seem he's sweating? His eyes aren't quite focused as he does his best to focus on Cheree, "You're them!" He shakes his head, holding out his hands before him, "No! No!" He immediately points to his chest. There you can see some fresh ink. On his left pectorial, the Eye of Ra has been tattooed with such artistic flare. But no, it's not fresh at all. It's the tattoo on his right pectorial, the Eye of Horus. Both Eyes are the typical Egyptian artwork seen for the eyes with the swoosh underneath the eye. The Eye of Ra is the 'left' eye and the Eye of Horus is the right. The only difference between the two is that the Eye of Ra is filled in - all black. The Eye of Horus is 'white' or a black outline of the pupil but not filled in.
"See? I'm seeking the protection of Horus! Stay away!" He takes a step back, but it's clear that his motor functions are off. He stumbles backwards with a splash into the pool.
Esther remains standing at the edge of the water. A few steps away from Cheree, who can handle herself. Letting the little Ventrue suck up the attention. While Esther observes. She pauses, shuffling into her pink, faux-leather purse for a moment. Digging out a note pad, a jelly pen. Scrawling down some notes quickly. Scribble scribble.
Cheree glances over where Esther isn't, and then back at Artemis and Judith. The look on her pale face says 'oh, great, he's crazy, this rocks.' In a sarcastic tone, mind. Cheree then approaches the edge of the water, reaching out to offer a hand once the nude man comes up for air. By the time that she's reaching out, though? Cheree's already kicked Presence into gear. Her very being just radiates outward to the man, submerging his brain in warm, black metaphorical liquid. "Hey, careful," Cheree giggles, speaking like she's an old friend, a big smile on her face even if her eyes still look sad. Hopefully Esther is proud of Cheree's /acting/! "You stay in there too long, you'll shrivel up! C'mon. Out of the water. Let's dry you off. My name is Cheree -- what's yours?"
Artemis nods to Judith, content in her acknowledgement, before their attention turns back to Diego and the Woman that is approaching him. Their hands remain folded in front of them as they watch with almost hooded eyes. There's a raised eyebrow at Diego's response, a small frown curving into their brow. As he starts speaking about Horus, they grunt, quietly to themself. "I swear to fuck if it's the Settites again. Ugh." they shake their head, clicking their tongue. Their gaze travels over to the others.
They snort at Cheree, offering her a light 'what can you do' shrug. Their own expression speaks of long standing exasperation with the general mental fortitude of those they deal with on a professional level. They do seem more amused than anything else. They nod as she takes command of the man, though. Hopefully he won't prove too intractable as to be useless. <English>
And there's an obvious change in demeanor in the Hispanic man. Oh, and it should be noted that MOST of his artwork is mostly Hispanic in nature. "Chicano" in style - black and gray inks, but with fine detailing. Upon his bicep, there are three distinct women displayed there. One looks older with her 'white' hair and weathered skin, but a loving expression. Another is a 'younger' version of the older woman but still in the middle years of her life. There a stern expression, hinting at discipline and tough love. Though, centered between the two older women is a younger woman with dark curls and a body that 'gyrates' with the movement of the arm. Other smaller tattoos that takes up space are ones that would fall in line with the Mexican culture such as Day of the Dead and Catholic depictions. The one final, and probably most prominent tattoo, is on the forearm. It's a dung beatle with it's wings spread out wide. It's mandibles are trying to catch or eat a circle (of unspoiled skin). And of course, the obvious two tattoos on his chest. (Sorry, should have included that in the previous pose)
The man starts to crawl his way towards Cheree with the look of devotion or is that worship? "Oh, wait! You're her! My muse!" He quickly hastens his pace to be with her, "Where have you been? Without you, my art is NOTHING! I'm a fraud without your divine intervention! Please! Forgive me for whatever I've done to upset you! You've been gone an entire month! Don't leave me like that, I beg of you!" Soon, he's groveling at the feet of Cheree.
Judith laughs, very low. Diego doesn't come off like Setite-adjacent to her but then, you really never know until the bullets catch you in the ribs. Her mouth stays curved, amused, she lifts her chin in an encouraging up-nod to Cheree, who's handling this beautifully. For herself, Judith switches direction -- then freezes at the performance, arguably the /overperformance/ -- as Cheree is now somebody's muse.
"Dios mio," she mutters, mostly to herself. "I really need to practice that one." Something catches her attention in the tattooes and the empty spaces. And as long as he's just groveling, she'll hold back and let the Ventrue do her thing. <English>
Esther's pen moves. Sweeping along, adding to her notes. The shapes and forms of the tattoos. She knew enough Egyptology to be at least familiar with some of their meanings. But why, exactly, were they on this guy? Maybe there was more to see. And Cheree, well. She definitely had this part of the work done.
Esther slips away from the water's edge. She's on a different hunt, now. Looking around for signs of residence. Who else would bathe in a public park?
"Well. For one, stop kow-towing. You're accidentally showing my dear friend Miss Esther your complete asshole every time you do." Cheree looks past the man and over at Esther with an apologetic smile. "I'm back," Cheree purrs. "And I brought my friends. Muses of others. Miss Esther. Miss Judith. Mx Artemis. They've been telling me that maybe I /shouldn't/ come back to you?" Cheree bites her bottom lip, looking into Diego's eyes. "But I /want/ to come back to you. You just need to help me /convince/ them." Her expression turns into a sly smile again. Is Dominate overkill? Yes. Yes, it is. But Cheree doesn't want to have to make a return trip, or worse, take part in some sort of nude-chase adventure through the park. When she speaks, the power of Caine echoes in her voice. "~Tell us everything you've done to honor me. Your Muse.~"
Artemis hums, noting the tattoo's along his arms, and the ones that are distinctly out of place there. They hum, quietly. "A month, though?" they click their tongue. "/Very/ interesting." and it may be possible that they are doing a little bit of mental arithmetic, figuring things out. There's a light frown though. ".... did we miss one?" they shake their head. "Ugh. I hope not." Their gaze is dragged over by Judith's small laugh, and they quirrk an amused smile at her. They cock their head to one side, eyeing her, and there's an amused glint in their eyes. "It would suit you well, I think." they murmur quietly to her.
They laugh quietly at Cheree's words. "Such magnanimity." they note of her. They shrug, happily playing along. "Not saying to stop. Just saying that.... what has he done for you, recently, to bestow your gifst on him further." they sigh, gesturing. "Devotion is only right and proper, but it's the deeds that demonstrate it at the end of the day. They subside as the Ventrues words thrum with Command, content, now, in how things are panning out so far. <English>
Diego stands up, unashamed of his nudity. Ok, and let's face it, this guy is ripped. Bald by choice, but definitely has that Latino suave to him. If he wasn't such a lapdog at the moment. It's only when Cheree points out the others to him that he finally takes note of them. There, he starts to plead as if he's fighting for his soul, "I have done all that I can to create such beautiful moments! With your guidance in my art, I have drawn so many women and captured their beauty, to the point where they share their beauty with me. I even went to an art curator to sell my art, so that I could soon bask in the riches you said I deserved! I've let go of everything else. I have taken what I find to be desirous, knowing that I deserve it all!" He swallows and turns back to Cheree, "But without you, it's meaningless! No one understands the way you do! Even... even I start to question my actions without your reassurance that I'm doing the right thing!" He looks down, "I feel the guilt of experiencing ecstasy and pleasure." Long distance to Judith: Saoirse wants everyone to feel like they've done something... so please, if there's an avenue you wish to explore... let me know. I will do whatever I can to give you information that maybe other people don't have
And well, if it wasn't for the cold water, he might actually have a package worth gawking at. But he was in the pool! Shrinkage!!!
Judith drops her shoes aside and abruptly flings open her overcoat just as she steps forward at a mundane speed and all the full force energy of Bad Cop and Dark Disapproving Muse as she sweeps forward towards Diego, the tails of her coat flapping dramatically behind her like dark wings. Her chin's dropped and her look is flinty, dark. When pressed to the act, or simply enjoying it, Judith's got equal parts intimidation to every ounce of her beauty.
"Fucking fraud," she growls, stepping up beside Cheree like they're metaphysical counterparts. "Look. All the /protection/. None of the cojones. He does not know Egypt." A cold fingertips stabs accusingly at the empty space above that scarab beetle. Her Arabic, which could be mistaken for /Egyptian/ Arabic, hisses malevolently. "Hadha alrajul la shay' wa'aqala manla shay'a. Whoever showed you or told you to do this lied to damn your soul. Eyes of the Sun and Moon do /not/ protect pretenders. But it looks like fucking Google art anyway you ruth-al'iibil piece of shit." <English> <OOC> Saoirse golf claps
Esther is... Unbothered. By the asshole. Or the naked man generally, really. She'd seen it all. And had notes about a lot of it. She's perfectly happy letting those three handle the artist himself. She's currently far more interested in his camp site. Picking through things like a cop, poking items out of her way with the end of her pen. Carefully not touching too much of anything. Lips pressed together into a thoughtful frown as her own little exploration continues through.
"Miss Judith, his cojones are right here," Cheree says, and reaches down with an ice-cold hand to squeeze them. "Could you put them away, though? No muse wants their artist to catch a chill. Your clothes, please." Cheree then adds, a bit more impatiently: "Now." While the man is getting dressed, Cheree moves to sit down on the grass, cross-legged. She tries to appear as the serene waif to Judith's hard-nosed Muse of the Longcoats. "Still. Guilt? You shouldn't feel guilt. Should he feel guilt, Mx Artemis?" Cheree looks over at Artemis, then back to Diego. "~Tell Miss Judith, Mx Artemis, and Miss Esther the pleasures and ecstasies that I've allowed you to indulge. Be detailed. They're very interested.~"
Artemis hums faintly, and seems utterly uninterested in the specimen before them, beyond a faint academic curiosity. It certainly doesn't seem to grab their /interest/. There's a faint hum of thought as his words turn pleading. "Hmmm. They really did a number on you, didn't they." they shake their head with a quiet sigh.
As Judith steps forward, there's a look of interest, and they nod to her as she works. Utterly confident in the reasons for having brought her along. There's a light grin on their face as she works, though they are content to not shove their nose into it just yet.
They snort to Cheree's words. "I don't know. What has he done. We know of the Art Collector thief already, but what else has he done in your name?" they shake their head. There's a light breath and they lean forward, whispering something into Cheree's ear for a moment before that stand upright once more, their own expression shuttered. <English>
As Esther is going through his things. Can't really call it a camp. It's like he took off his clothes at the side of the pool, and then waded in. However, with all that being said, Esther does uncover what appears to be some kind of circular medallion? https://imgur.com/a/y86xlYT Though, someone who is more technically inclined -- say a certain Tremere, might recognize that this circular medallion is actually a key fob of some kind.
Now the desire to obey Cheree is the overall motivation for his actions, so he goes to pick up his clothes and get dressed. He doesn't object to Esther going through his things, or perhaps holding up the white golden chain that holds the 'medallion' with her pen, so that all can see. Still, he's getting starting to get dressed. Judith's tactics certainly put the fear of Judith into him. Or fear of God, your choice. Still, he's bound to answer Cheree first, "I have wrecked the home of my girlfriend! Her mom and dad are getting divorced because I fucked her mom! I fucked her mom so much that she would rather come home to me than her own husband." He swallows, "And I've given my girlfriend and her mom enough drugs to engage in a threesome, or even watch them go at one another. My girlfriend is mad and confused, but is also jealous because she knows that if she leaves, it means her mom will be over all the time!" Incest, adultery, drug use... yea, a Catholic is going to need years of penance and Acts of Contrition to get out of this one.
He then turns to Judith, scared out of his mind but clings onto hope that 'his muse' will protect him. "She's the one who showed me the way! I... I'm still learning! Please, I want to be all that she says... I just need to learn more! I've studied the Temple of Abu Simbel! I want to bask in the opulance of the Nubian people just like the pharaohs!"
Judith plays along and she knows where this is going if she plays it right. She angles herself so that she's at one end of that axis between herself and Cheree, circling and distancing herself like a herding dog clearly intending to flush Diego towards the Ventrue with a little more truth, a bit more terrified confession. Maybe it's simply that the Toreaador doesn't get to flex very often but she clearly enjoys it. "I am Iahudit of the Moonlit Sands," she hisses. "I take the head of Holofernes nightly and press it between my thighs for my own pleasure because I cannot be /fucked/ to leave any man breath to hear his goddamn lies." Judith's clearly going for primordial-wrathful, here. Maybe only the other kindred will notice the fiercely amused glitter in her eyes as her eyes ... change. One would not think that brown eyes could express much other color but there's a hot orange savagery in her look that says she might need a vent of her own pressure at some point later this evening. <English>
Esther drops the medallion into her purse. He wouldn't miss it. Actually, with all that was going on, and Esther's own use of mind bending powers, he might not even think to miss it for a little while. But there was plenty more to look through. She pokes around, for a phone, or some other sign of what the medallion might open up. Where the Temple might be hidden at.
Cheree stands up, once Judith starts to herd. She has brief whispered discussion with Artemis, which ends with Cheree placing a hand very gently on the Warlock's sleeve, and offering them a tiny, sad-eyed smile. Then it's back to work for the little princess of Clan Ventrue. "Diego. Diego. Come to me." Cheree's voice is clear, loud, and firm. "I will protect you from her, Diego." Cheree opens her arms, like she might embrace the man. And she will, too, if he goes for it. "It will come at a price, though. You know this. Everything comes at a price." "Show me that you have not forgotten me in a mere month, my artist." Cheree draws in a performative breath. "Tell me where your supply is coming from, Diego. Tell me from whom. Prove to me that you have not forgotten." Cheree provides a theatrical flourish at the end. She's been watching too many of Esther's movies; the little hand gesture she does is one that's perhaps unconsciously copied from Esther's own bag of tricks. "And--" "Say." "My." "Name."
Artemis' gaze moves over to Diego, and there's a moue of distaste there. "Gods. Sounds like every edgy teenagers wet dream. The kind you hear one 12 year old bragging to another" they roll their eyes, grumbling quietly to themself. "Fairly sure I heard this exact conversation somewhere else." they shake their head.
As Judith herds the man like a dog. At this stage it's almost like watching a tennis match as the girls work him over. And not in the fun way, either. There's a light quirk to their lips, and their eyes are hooded as Judith speaks, a single brow raising in her direction as if to say 'really'. They grin though, shaking their head, amusement written plain.
To the conversation, Artemis laughs quietly, returning a single sentence, and nodding towards the Man they are all here for. There can be time for more candid conversation later on. They look on, expression intent as they watch Diego flee to Cheree's arms, and there is a nod of satisfaction as she asks her question, smile growing a touch more. <English>
Well, our friend Diego has his pants pulled up and is about to zip when Judith unleashes the Fury of the Desert upon the man. Out of complete and abject fear, he starts to run and clings onto Cheree so that the woman will take whatever wrath that's meant for him. In the process, the man's wallet and phone fall out of his pocket - near Esther. That poor phone. It would seem frustration of someone not returning phone calls resulted in him using the phone as a hammer against a rock. Or something along those lines. The phone is smashed. SMASHED. While he may stand taller than Cheree, he crouches down so that he can be completely 'hidden'. The same way one can hide behind a slender tree.
"Milak Alnashwa! You are the source of my ecstasy! You provide me with everything that I need! Without your divine intervention, I can not replicate the art that I've drawn. It's where we first met that's my greatest masterpiece!"
Judith catches the look from Artemis and does a discreet flick-flick with one hand at the Tremere as if to say, very clearly, God Dammit, Don't Wreck My Vibe, Warlock. If she's trying not to laugh herself, just now, she's also holding her own low-key version of a dread gaze, just trained on Diego's back in case the sheep might need a little more herding.
More amusement as she'd much rather have him clinging to Cheree than herself. "Apparently you're quite the 'fuckable angel,' Miss Crowley. I'd eat him for that. But that's just me." She shifts her weight with another low-key bit of drama, she'll keep Diego pinned where he is and appealing to Cheree. Still that ember-hot orange in her brown eyes. <English>
Oo. Phone. Esther reaches in, scooping it up. And into her purse. This was turning into a very fruitful investigation. She pops up, and steps away from the action of the two others tormenting the poor, confused, abandoned cultist. A month? No wonder he'd been freaking out. The withdrawal must've been terrible. But having what she's come for, Esther circles around the little group. Toward Artemis.
"I think- um..." she checks her purse again. "No, I think we're basically good here? Unless, I guess, there are questions?"
"Where we first met... that was a /Brewery/, wasn't it?" Cheree strokes Diego's bald head with one cold hand. She also raises her voice and looks right over at Esther, as if to say 'HEY. BREWERY. REMEMBER.' without actually saying it in those words. "Well. Miss Judith. Of course I'm an angel." Cheree grins, though the sadness is still in her eyes. She's performing, not feeling. "Am I /fuckable/? I suppose you'll just have to shoot your shot and find out, hmm?" Cheree kisses Diego on the temple. "I must confer with my fellow muses, little one. I'll return to you soon. But when I do... mm. You should really shave down there. It's just... it's more considerate. Oh. And be sure to /exfoliate/. Otherwise you get ingrown hairs and you look like you have pizza crotch. So. That's my mission for you! And then we can make more wonderful art together." Oh, and Cheree makes Diego pose for a selfie with her before she leaves. One of those holding-the-phone-overhead smiling-upwards ones. Just in case it comes in handy later.
