New Blood, Old Blood

[*A Casual Fellow]

A new figure enters into one of the safe houses of the Sigil, location undisclosed. Suspicious of the others, and the others no doubt suspicious of him. The peculiar mask on his face with only one eyehole, on the right side that has an eye, however rather than having pupil it is replaced by a hexed symbol on it. Clothing aren't flamboyant but rather floaty and oversized robe to the shorter than average man.

"You don't know me, I don't know you. The name is Doubt, but in my loyalties there's none. And let me be clear from the start, I'm not loyal to you... you... or you." pointing at the others present "I'm loyal to an idea, and that idea is revolutionary. If you're true anarchists as I've been lead to believe, then you neither have much love to the philosophical groups that are called Factions here, nay, let me expand that to the very Sects as well. These festering ideals that poison the very freedom the Indeps claim, the very peace the Harmonium seeks to uphold, blinding justice to bring killers of mercy, cause disjunction by impartial order, the athars forced religious views... I could go on, but in the end the conclusion is but the entropy the Doomguard so crave."

The figure walked by studying the safe house confidently as he continued the monologue "A real person isn't simply one of these, but a combination of all the ideologies, so why are they made to choose to follow naught but one side of what it means to be a mortal? And why are there more intelligent and wiser men and women than I caught into the trap of these philosophies? Because they are afraid of chaos, that the order we have now is as good as it gets... yes... that's it, and they are right to be afraid as there will be difficult times once factions are no more. Of course that will require some more planning... but I think we will be able to triumph, however our worst enemy is not those outside, but those within." he stopped and turned to address the others again "I'm not one to order others around, but if you work like the cells where I came from, then I find that we will be defeated if we do not share what we know or if we fail to train ourselves physically and mentally... contacts especially, those within Factions so we can keep tabs of their movements and it would be nice to know people without meeting them, so what would you think about profiling good citizen of Sigil to remain one step further of them, hm?"

He appeared as if starting to move on, but halted "And one last thing, how many of you are willing to die for this cause? Because I am, and that resolve will make us able to achieve where others will fail." if anything was clear, he was excessively confident and carried himself with great pride, suggesting nobility or highly educated sort.

[*Cadence]

A somewhat attractive middle-aged woman with almond-shaped eyes, straight dark hair, and understated clothing presses her lips together into a coy smile and waits patiently for the masked fellow to finish his impassioned monologue. Her gaze is weighty, and most who experience it for the first time get the unusual sense that she is somehow judging them.

When she speaks, her tone is confident yet she lacks the same fire that the first speaker's voice did. A more fitting analogy would be one of ice - for her voice comes out smooth and calm, so much so that one would be hard pressed to believe that she's ever raised her voice in the past.


Our worst enemies are indeed within. She adds a pause for effect before continuing, and it is for that very reason that we keep a certain... privacy of information, even amongst ourselves she continues in even, measured tones - but there are a few among us who know far more than others regarding... *secrets.* There is an unusual inflection of the word 'secrets' as she utters it - she says it in a manner that makes the word sound both exotic and sacred.

We have gathered a great of information regarding the citizens of Sigil, and though our method of organizing this information isn't the same as that of the Fated or the Fraternity, it has worked for us and helped us maintain our livelihood. The fragmented nature of our information flow is essential to our anonymyty. She nears Doubt to get a better look into his singly-visible eye, but if you would like to gather more information and share or trade it among us, we would be happy to partake.

She then looses a mirthless chuckle and adds: And I assure you that you are not unique in your willingness to die for the cause, passionate one - though your sentiment is appreciated.

She holds out a slender hand to shake with his. Her fingernails are long and well-kept though free of dye. You can call me Dead - because to many I already am.

[*A Casual Fellow]

The figure turned to listen the woman, his eye on closer inspection would appear to be one made of glass, yet the iris movement was a telltale sign that it did infact see. The iris had a symbol of mixture of black and burgundy. Though difficult to make out initially, a keen-eyed might notice the black part appeared to be number of arms reaching out around the burgundy center. Even sharper eyes could notice these hands moving very slowly, each individually ((see the avatar for an image)). He seemed hesitant to take Deaths hand, but finally did take and shake it, his hand through the loose and long sleeve during the time, although the bare hand did peek out a tiny pit.

"I would not sacrifice the anonymity of our cause, I do not want to know about you more than is friendly. I mean the external assets, those whom do not share our views but may be of use. And obviously I do not expect you to do all the work, I presumed a fair co-operation where everyone does their share to work." he gathered his thoughts a while longer before continuing "As for what the outsiders could learn through them... we shouldn't keep information of ourselves documentated anyway. Just what we know of others in as wide scale as possible. Then we can provide information conveniently to let even outsiders work our cause if we know their motives. However the very word "Anarchy" breeds distrust because of our reputation, either we can rebrand the cause or we can make it necessary evil in the eyes of public."

Looked around the room "And make no mistake... public is what will win the cause. Instead of aimless murders... target those that prevent the system working. Nobody will care over a Hardhead or two, but when judges whom let people go start dying and made a public example with the reasons well laid out... then we are doing the public a favor. When these happen in all factions we should prove that these organizations are pointless, excessive tolerance to this behavior is what allows it to persist. Take out the incompetent, the unwilling, the corrupt and the greed... and if things start to work, the public will notice it is not the doing of the factions, but the justice of the people that caused this. And then perhaps in time... we can even get the citizen to publish the names of such people in SIGIS."

[*Forbes]

Volsen had been listening quietly to the exchange the whole time, off in the corner leaned against his wooden cane. The one-legged human was starting to get speckles of grey hairs on his head, but that didn't stop him from adopting a youthful demeanor. He was quite a paradox, but more importantly he was fairly well respected among the Anarchists. His leg was lost in a reconnaissance mission for the cause and he wears it as a badge of honor which earned him some of the respect he garners. Throughout the monologues, he wore a poker-face, not indicating what emotions he felt or with whom he agreed or disagreed with, but as Doubt finishes speaking, Volsen pushes himself forward with a resolute nod and speaks gruffly. He doesn't hold out his hand to shake like Death did - such things had little significance for him.

"Yer right, lad. I'm with ye!"

[*Powderhorn]

Operating under cover was simply a fact of life for Bridget. When she was leading parts of the resistance on her home plane, she had to be able to move within and without the enemy's ranks. Still, there was a certain defiance to her, which was perhaps why she was undisguised in the room. Her bright pink hair stood out literally and figuratively, as length of it was pulled out to the side and left to hang. Her black dress showed fading where it had been cleaned and cleaned again, the blood of her work removed so regularly.

The halfling smiled viciously to the man, and said simply, "I'm not looking to die for the cause. But I sure do enjoy killing for it. I am the Eagle reborn, or, as most know me, Bridget."

[*Darkrob]

He sat in a corner chair, it leaning up against the wall as he leaned back in it. He was dressed in the clothes of a regular citizen. Nothing outlandish, nothing colorful, nothing that stood out, nothing memorable. His face wasn't obscured by anything and didn't look out of the ordinary. Common features in a busy city. He took no steps to cover it... yet when people looked away from him... they couldn't quite remember what he looked like. Would never be able to describe him. His face just wouldn't register properly in their memories but was always calm and observant when they looked back at him.

He sat there smoking a cigarette and calmly listened to the banter and the speeches. They could certainly feel him watching them... yet he remained silent.

[*A Casual Fellow]

The one eye of the man darted at the small female "Being prepared to die and having self-destructive thoughts are two different things. The former indicates preparedness to go as far as possible to achieve their goals, the latter is mere foolishness. Those whom fear death will inevitably become a liability in this project if they are caught, since they will sell everything to spare their life in that case." his gaze studied the hin for a prolonged time "You lust for blood, and there is plenty to be spilled, just we should aim at the right people. As I have said before, killing the pawns will achieve nothing... they are expendable. Target those that hide behind their desks, those that truly rule and you will start to see results."

Doubt gives it a brief rest and then continues "As I see it, we can aim to achieve one of the three things. Resources, communication or the leadership. Each of these will slowly cripple the capability to mobilize and respond, and they may have various means to go at it... sabotage, misinformation, infiltration or confrontation. The one thing we shouldn't do is work without a plan nor invest too much into single plan... we lack the manpower to traditional war and any fool can adapt to a trick used hundred times over so we should remain flexible in the strategy. It's why I suggest we pay little extra attention to information gathering first and then decide opportune chance, if possible breed a little mistrust between our enemies allies with conveniently planted evidences..."

[*Powderhorn]

"Oh man, if we could get them to start hanging each other... well that'd be a rip!" Bridget says with a laugh in her voice. "Oh, I could just see it now..."

She stops and chews it over, and then asks, "So how do we do that? Find someone who's bucking for promotion and take out their superiors? Paint somebody's house with blood and make them look like a sicko when they get investigated? Hold somebody's kids hostage so they work in our favor? Whatcha got pops?"

[*A Casual Fellow]

The man paused and fidgeted a moment, probably weighing his options before finally admitting "I have not been here long enough to be sure what's the best target or action... nor do I know many enough people. Ideally if we knew some individuals with distastes against one another we could wedge in through that and help the situation wedge through that." just a beat goes by before he adds up "I do know someone exceptionally gullible and daft that could prove useful however. Someone fresh out from the plane of Celestia... a mercykiller at that, best yet is that she's too naive to think anyone would lie. So far I've seen her stroll around the Great Bazaar, hard to miss. Blue hair, deep blue eyes and paleskin... asking if anyone around her is a criminal. You can practically tell her anything plausible or make her stand witness to acted out events. Beyond that I intend to pay close eye to the residents and keep you informed."

[*Cadence]

The aging human woman laughs and shakes her head. I never said anything about having self-destructive thoughts, fiery-one - I'm quite keen on self-preservation. Keep your assumptions at bay when you make your impassioned propositions.

She pauses and steps back towards the rest of the group, apparently not wanting this newcomer to garner too much support (perhaps she felt threatened?): And as for striking at the 'head' of the beast as it were- most people here agree with that course of action, even though you present it as a new angle.

As for targets and planting evidence- we will -of course- need to do it carefully and rarely enough that we are not suspected. I already have a target in mind: A high ranking Measure named Colo Lane who provides a voice of reason and legitimacy among the Hardheads. During a previous time of wide scale turmoil to the faction, he brought stability to the faction. Since he assumed his high position, he has remained every bit as dutiful as he used to be before. Many say that the man is absolutely uncorruptable - and he stands as a beacon of light and hope. Her lips curl upwards into a cruel smile.

Were we to assassinate Officer Lane - we would only make him a martyr, furthering his influence among the ranks. The best move would be to frame him, and demonstrate to the city that even the most respected of the Hardheads are as corrupt as any warlord in the Hive.