Episode 3 - The Ills of Potent Motivators

EXT. NIGHT - ALLEY

A man, early forties, wearing a heavy winter coat and a fluffy striped toque runs into the alley chasing a small, fast moving, furry animal. His eyes are wide, his face twisted in a hungry grin. There's a light snow falling from the sky, the snowflakes appearing orange in the light of the single streetlamp cutting through the darkness.

The animal dives into a pile of garbage bags and disappears from view. Undeterred, the man wades in and starts tossing bags aside. After a few moments, the animal darts out of the mound. It dives into a gap at the bottom of an old, worn door held shut by a heavy padlock. The man pursues it. He kicks at the door, then starts throwing himself into it, trying to break it down.

INT. NIGHT - COMMERCIAL BASEMENT

The door bursts open and the man stumbles into a basement packed with crates, chairs, and cleaning supplies. He stumbles into a pile of boxes and the sound of bottles knocking into each other can be heard from within. Wind carries some of the snow inside through the open doorway, the orange light from the streetlamp the only illumination.

The man pulls out his cellphone and turns on the flashlight. "Come out, come out, wherever you are..." he calls in a singsong, before chuckling deludedly at his own perceived wit.

He moves through the basement slowly, checking through every row. He stops, his smile, lit from below, looks demonic. "There you are."

Caught in the light beam of his cellphone's light is a small fox. Its ears are low, its tail tucked under its body. As the man moves closer, it starts to shake with fear. "Come, now. Don't be like that," the man says, his voice dripping with malice.

Behind him, a shadow detaches himself from the darkness. It grows in size, the stacks disappearing behind it. The fox freezes and stares at it. The man, finally, realizes the small canine isn't looking at him anymore, but over his shoulder. The confidence seems to drain from his face. Slowly, he turns around. He screams as he sees what looms over him.

A heavy thud and a sickening crunch. The scream stops suddenly. Blood sprays, staining the fox's fur. That seems to shake the animal out of its daze. It bolts towards the open door. Behind it, the wet tearing sound continues. As the fox disappears through the doorway, the audience can see it has two tails.

OPENING CREDITS

The screen is dark. Then, flashes of lightning illuminate roiling clouds. The third bolt reveals the title card. AGNOSTOPHOBIA is sprayed over a Yin-Yang symbol with a Dragon on one side and a Phoenix on the other.

Cut to a very large man as he steps out of the woods and looks down at a small town. He is wearing jeans, sturdy boots and a checked lumberjack shirt. He carries an old leather backpack. He looks tired. "THELONIUS as MANGAS". With a sigh he continues walking, the camera stays and sees him walk away towards the town. Shadows creep in from the bottom of the frame, spreading across the ground, reaching towards him.

Getting ready montage in close-ups. Bullet proof vest, buttoning up the suit. Checking the 9mm and putting it in the holster. Getting in the SUV. And finally seeing Matthew's face/eyes as he adjusts the rear view mirror. "DONQWAF as MATTHEW LEONS". He picks up a pager to look at a message on it. In the mirror, a ghostly face opens its mouth wider than any living creature could.

Eshe is training by herself in a bare room, her staff in a corner. She is striking at non-existent opponents and dodging their blows in turn. A momentary loss of balance leaves her on the tips of her toes and she transitions into a few ballet moves to catch herself, before coming to a stop, laughing breathlessly. "ANOTHER AKA as ESHE MESERET DANIAT". In the window behind her, the sky turns orange and what looks like dozens of asteroids come raining down from it.

Ominous images flash across the screen. A corpse, hanging by its feet from a tree with writhing branches. A man running from a mob with glowing green eyes. Hands pushing out of the wall as a child reads nearby. A statue weeping blood as it strangles a priest.

We see the three hunters surrounded, fighting a group of thugs with fire surrounding their fists. Mangas fights with a stop sign, torn from the ground, cement still hanging onto its base. Eshe twirls her staff, parrying and counter attacking. Matthew fires his 9mm, taking out some more thugs who were rushing in.

We get a nice, final shot of the three hunters grouped together, each in their own fighting stance. Strange, shadowy shapes hang above them, looking akin to puppeteers.

INT. NIGHT - CUSTODES SAFEHOUSE - BALTIMORE, MD

Mangas wakes up on the couch in the living room. The TV is on, a 24h News channel yammering on about something that seems incredibly important to the short-lived mortals he lives amongst. He hears noise coming from the kitchen, a ray of light extending into the hallway.

Despite his unnaturally large bulk, he lifts himself off the couch silently and makes his way towards the safehouse's eating area. He can smell that whoever is there, it's not one of his compatriots. There's something... musky about the intruder, as well as the faint smell of alcohol. A rice wine of some sort. Not one of Matthew or Eshe's go tos.

Mangas steps through the doorway. The kitchen is lit by the stove range hood's lightbulb as well as the open fridge's. Someone is rummaging through the group's provisions.

As Mangas prepares to pounce, the intruder lifts his head out of the fridge and steps back, hitting the door with his elbow to swing it shut. Mangas stops, surprised, as he sees that the intruder is... a raccoon. More precisely, a man-sized raccoon. In its... paws?... it's holding a bunch of items: sliced cheese, a whole ham, a loaf of bread, a head of lettuce, mayonnaise...

The raccoon-man sees Mangas and freezes, its eyes wide in surprise and fear. "Uh... Oh!" he says, relaxing a bit, "you must be the werebear! Mongus, right?" The raccoon-man chuckles nervously. He looks down at the cornucopia of ingredients in its paws. "Uh... do you want a sandwich?"

INT. NIGHT - CUSTODES SAFEHOUSE - HALLWAY

Eshe is woken up by strange noises coming from the kitchen. She slips out of bed and makes her way out of her room. She blinks in confusion and rubs her sleepy eyes as she finds herself into a long, door-lined hallway. Was the safehouse always this big?

She makes her way down the corridor. Every door is slightly ajar. Every time she passes by one of them, she feels uncomfortable. From some, cold air is seeping out of the opening. From others, it's scalding hot air, or bright lights that hurt her eyes, or strange noises. Who left all these doors open? They're supposed to be closed! she thinks to herself. Her mom would've been furious. Think of the heating/AC bill!

Eshe finally makes it to the end of the hallway. She's standing in front of the kitchen's second entrance, the one that leads to the bedrooms. She looks behind her and sees that the hallway is now much shorter, only a few meters and a handful of doors.

From the other side of the kitchen door, she can hear a voice. It's not Mangas or Matt, but it sounds oddly familiar, like the voice of a childhood friend you haven't seen in years, changed by time.

It does not matter that the zombies are slow and far away; we should still be preparing!  Do you hear that? It could be them! Actually, no it couldn't... What the? The strange noises rouse Eshe from a wildly frustrating nightmare, and she is both sleepy and irritated. The (extra) long walk down the hall does little to help, as she notices that all of the doors are open, and is once again irked by the carelessness. The discomfort as she passes each door is an additional irritant, and by the time she makes it to the end of the hallway is determined to give Matt and/or Mangas a piece of her mind.

The oddly familiar voice gives her pause as she considers the potential risks. How did she know that voice? And if it wasn't either of the lads... who the heck had gotten into the safe house? And how?

It is only a matter of time before she admits to herself that there is really only one way to get to the answer to her many many questions - Eshe opens the kitchen door and hears the tail end of the raccoon-man's nervous chuckle as the door glides open.  "Uh... do you want a sandwich?"

 "I would! If there are eggs, I can add one sunny side up, and make it a breakfast sandwich... It's morning, right?" She goes to chuckle wryly and has to stifle a yawn. "Oh hey Mangas, you should definitely say yes to the sandwich. He makes a mean one. " It would be easier to figure out whatever the heck is going on on a full stomach.

Mangas incredulously looks at the situation before him. Did one of the children follow them here? He tries to remember, but he cannot remember any raccoon like mutations. Plus this... guy(??) is too big to be a child.
Suddenly Eshe steps into the kitchen and, hardly reacting to the bizarre being (Who am I to talk? ) in the kitchen, starts talking.
Mangas starts stammering "I'm not... At night... Wait, what??" Did the... thing just say my name?
The situation is becoming very confusing and unnerving. Mangas starts grinding his teeth and takes a deep breath.

The raccoon-man smiles? It looks like a smile. "Ooh, eggs, good thinking! That's my girl!" he says in response to Eshe's enthusiasm and politely ignoring Mangas' stammering. He starts putting down the ingredients on the kitchen island, humming as he does so. He doesn't bother with plates and assembles the sandwiches straight on the counter, making a mess as he does so.

"I'm glad to see you're both doing better. I heard you were in quite a state after your fight with the... fish-thing," the raccoon-man. He looks up from his work and smiles at the two hunters, before getting back to his sandwich making.

Matt opens the door, returning to the safehouse after a long day with the Custodes.

God they can talk....

"Evening all...or morning...? I'm not sure...."

Words run dry as he steps into the common area and sees the man sized raccoon. On instinct he draws his pistol, but keeps it pointed down in that exact moment seeing that nobody is tense or aggressive.

"Hi...whose this?..."

The raccoon-man gasps. "Oh, how rude of me! I never introduced myself."

He clasps his hands in front of his chest, sending flecks of mayonnaise and bits of ham flying, and bows. "You may call me Dan. Nice to meet you all!"

He straightens up and looks at Matt, his eyes flicking down to the pistol, then back to the agent's face. "Would you like a sandwich?" he says, pulling out a few more slices of bread.

"Yeah... You ever have bruised ribs and the hiccups at the same time? It's not pretty. But we won that fight, and are back in fighting form!" Eshe punctuates the exclamation with a bit of shadowboxing, and in so doing moves closer to Mangas. She gives the latter a shrug and a sympathetic smile; things would likely only be getting more bewildering.

"Oh hey Matty, welcome back. You can put that away; we're not in any... immediate danger. Dan here is going to make a comestible, unadulterated sandwich for each of us, and then will kindly explain the reason for his visit in a way that is accurate, complete, and relevant to the three of us. Right Dan?"

She didn't think that her careful wording was necessary, but whatever was going on seemed to involve her patrons, and so it wouldn't hurt to be just a touch cautious.

Dan scoffs theatrically, pretending to be offended. "Wow, where's the love? So many implications of malice. What have I done to earn such a poor reputation? We've only just met and already I am being suspected of the most grievous of sins: tampering with food!"

He returns to his work. "If it makes you feel any better, you can choose your sandwich and I'll eat mine first!" He looks up and grins, a glint in his eye. "I could also take a bite our of each of yours, you know, for your own sense of security."

He chuckles to himself as he turns to fry up some eggs. The sandwiches, once complete, are messy, overstuffed affairs, but they look delicious. Dan sits down, on what, you're not sure as there are no chairs or stools on that side of the kitchen island and he is too high to have sat on the ground, and gestures to the prepared meal. He waits patiently for you to pick your poison... as per the expression, not literally, obviously, haha...

Dan, the raccon-man:

Mangas grabs the largest sandwich and takes a huge bite. In his hand the sandwich looks small and the bite took almost a quarter of it away. With full mouth he comments "So, svill it, Dvan. Vhere do you know us from and vhy are you here? And be complete, it annoys the poop out of me if I need to pull everything out of your nose. And when I get annoyed I might actually do that. Literally...."

Eshe winks at the raccoon-man before taking a large bite of sandwich.
"Nice try!"

Despite her initial refusal, Eshe slides the second half of her sandwich over to Dan; it was delicious but this is well outside her normal mealtime.

"Yeah, I can't take the suspense."

Dan takes the last sandwich and sets to devouring it with great gusto. "Sorry for the wait," he says with his mouth full, "but I was expecting to do this on a full stomach." He finished chewing and swallows. "I'm not trying to build dramatic tension." He strokes his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose it's just a lucky coincidence it played out like that. I'll eat quickly," he promises with a grin.

The raccoon-man makes good on his promise and finishes his sandwich almost as quickly as Mangas, but he can't quite match the big man's bite sizes. He gratefully accepts Eshe's half sandwich, clasping his paws and bowing his hands. "As you may have guessed," he says, keeping the extra food in front of him rather than delaying further, I am a Tanuki and a member of the Illustrious Society that has blessed your resident terpsichorean-combatant with her unusual strength and resilience, and other minor boons..." he lowers his voice, "terms and conditions may apply..."

Dan clears his throat. "Most of the time, we're content providing gentle guidance and let you follow your heart," he says looking at Eshe. "However, for once, I have a specific ask for you. Something's going on in Winnipeg. Strange deaths, inexplicable events, odd arcane currents... and it all smells familiar. Someone who turned down the compact or has since turned away, maybe? I'd like you to look into it before it attracts too much attention."

Eshe strikes a graceful yet heroic pose, with a bright grin that barely dims (hardly at all!) when Dan mentions the terms and conditions.

"For once?" Eshe thunders, indignant. "What about... you know what? Nevermind! What the heck could you possibly have been getting up to in Winnipeg of all places?" She looks at Mangas and Matt,

"If you thought Bar Nunn was a small town, wait until you see Winnipeg, Missouri! I mean," she pauses and then smacks an open palm against her forehead with a muttered Canada! She takes a deep breath and continues, intent on moving the conversation along.

"Either way, my question stands. You did a good job on the 'relevant' part, now let's see what we can do about 'complete': What the heck were you getting up to in Winnipeg? How are the deaths strange? What makes the events inexplicable? Et cetera. Et cetera. Et cetera."

Dan chuckles. "Children are always so demanding. Why? How? So many questions, so ready and willing to accept hearsay rather than see for themselves."

He lifts up his paws in a shrug. "You must understand: I'm used to creating mischief, not unraveling it. I am, however, good at picking up rumors and whispered conversations. I know a man was found crushed to death in a bar's basement. Nothing around him was disturbed. A woman was stabbed to death after getting seven jackpots in a row on scratch lottery tickets. A riot broke out at a karaoke club, and none of the patrons will say why. Many of the city's public restrooms are suddenly remarkably clean, but people steer clear of them more than ever..."

Dan leans back and clasps his paws behind his head. "As to what I was doing there, well, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," he says with a wink at Eshe.

"Eshe, do you trust this glorified squirrel, or should I expel him?" Going north is something that resonates with Mangas, in the North people are always less suspicious of him. Maybe because of the calmer temper or the fact that people were bigger anyway, so he doesn't stick out as much.

Winnipeg, it has been a while since he had been there. I wonder how much it changed in the last 200 years. People were ever so hectic about changing everything. Build new, build more, remove, replace. It probably changed...

Eshe is sorely tempted to let Mangas kick Dan out - surely a little bruising would be good for the tanuki's ego - but she knew that the consequences of that moment of sweet satisfaction would be bitter and long lasting. Her patrons were nothing if not patient and petty, and fickle and needlessly oblique and...

"I trust Dan in that he wants something from us and was gracious enough to ask." Eshe nods respectfully to the Tanuki. For all that the Illustrious Society's motives and machinations could be frustratingly ineffable, they had never insofar as she knew been unnecessarily malicious though how they would define necessity....

"Basically what it comes down to Mangas, is that in the long run it will be way WAY easier to head up to Winnipeg, than not to. Once we sort through what is mere heresay and what we are able to find out, we can decide what - if anything - we end up doing about it."

Though his smile never falters, Dan's eyes grow cold when Mangas calls him a glorified squirrel. There's something in there that hints at many harsh lessons taught and a capacity for violence and maliciousness that his genial demeanor kept well hidden.

But then, Eshe speaks and the moment passes. Dan is back to his pleasant and cheerful self. He sighs dramatically. "It used to be, you made someone a meal, they'd at least give you some respect..."

"I thought you actually cared about helping people. A few have already been hurt, and things are only going to get worse unless someone looks into it. The chosen is correct. Whether you trust me or not doesn't matter. If you're a good person, you ought to at least look into it."

Though very different from one another, Eshe finds that Dan and Mangas hold a similar, unplumbed depth of violence, that she is thoroughly uninterested in being dragged out into. Thus, it is a relief to clock the coldness leave Dan's eyes, and to hear the Tanuki slip back into the veneer of joviality. Much as with riptides, she had been well served by eschewing panic and remaining focused on getting out of danger.

"You of course have my respect, and that was before you took the time to make us such delicious food! That you would doubt that, wounds me!" She feigns a faint, and gives the Tanuki a playful wink.

"Regardless of whether we are good people, which we are, we'll be looking into this. And surely Illustrious Society will be so kind as to put us up in a four-star hotel while we do so?" Eshe gives Dan her winningest smile... who knows, maybe the powers that be were feeling generous this time.

Matt had put his pistol away and sat down, quietly eating his sandwich, and listening to the conversation.

Eventually, having finished the sandwich, Matt took a drink and looked at Dan.

"Well it was a good sandwich. And if Eshe trusts you, then I will trust you."

He looks down at his phone for a moment.

"I will still need to report my location and what I am doing, but I don't see any harm in having a look."

"Do you have any idea what might be causing this?"

Dan snorts at Eshe's question. "I can get you into a four-star hotel. How long you can stay will depend on how good you are at avoiding the staff..."

The tanuki follows Matt's eyes to to the agent's cellphone. "I understand and expected it when I came calling for help. If your superiors balk, just tell them how great of an intelligence gathering opportunity this is!" he says spreading his arms wide. "As for what's causing this..." he shrugs. "That's why I came to you."

He claps his hands. "Sounds like you're all agreed. I'm ready to go when you are. Airports are pretty tough for me to get through, but border customs shouldn't be an issue."


EXT. DAY - WINNIPEG, MB

Matt checks in with his superiors within the Custodes. Dan was right, they see the value in this opportunity and instruct him to extract as much information as possible from the tanuki without causing a diplomatic incident with his faction. They even provide a private plane to fly the hunters and their guest to Winnipeg.

Upon their arrival in Canada, the hunters find that the stereotype about Canadians being nice and polite has been greatly exaggerated. The staff at the airport is rude and everyone of them appears to want a tip for providing even the most basic of services. This strikes those that have been to Canada before as strange. Perhaps the global pandemic has taken its toll on the Canadians' politeness.

Somehow, Dan gets through without much fuss. Everyone seems to ignore him. Maybe it has something to do with the piece of paper he stuck to his forehead. There are some kanji on it. It looks stupid, but it might be worth something.

Winnipeg is cold. The air bites at the hunters' faces. Every time they exhale, their breath comes out as a puff of white smoke and is carried away by the icy wind.

In the airport parking lot, the hunters find a black SUV waiting for them, the keys hidden in a little keypad-protected box underneath.

The drive into the city is a pain. The other drivers on the road are aggressive and selfish, cutting in front the the SUV, refusing to give them room to merge, brake checking them... This seems generalized, not specifically targeted at anyone. The hunters pass an accident along the way, the drivers yelling with each other. They haven't even moved their cars to the side. The passenger of another car, not involved in the crash, throws their drink at one of the belligerents as they pass by.

"See what I mean?" Dan says from the back seat. "Things are weird." For some reason, you all can't help but find his voice exceedingly grating. Of course things are weird. Could he not contribute something useful? What was in it for you with this pointless comment?


INT. DAY - CUSTODES SAFEHOUSE - WINNIPEG, MB

The Custodes safehouse in Winnipeg is rather bare. Nothing adorns the walls. The couches are boringly functional, as is the dining room furniture. Would it have killed them to spring for a little bit of luxury? A throw pillow? A cashmere blanket? The TV isn't even that big.

Once they've settled in, the hunters and Dan gather in the dining room, sitting on the cheap stairs around the poorly-made, boring table. The tanuki proceeds to share his "leads".

"First," he says with his slimy, used car salesman voice, "there's the bar/restaurant where that guy got crushed to death: Izakaya Edokko. It happened in the basement."

"Second, there's the convenience store where the lotto lady was stabbed. It's in the Saint Boniface neighborhood." Now that was interesting. Dan had mentioned that she had been winning on every lottery scratcher she'd tried. Maybe it would work for you too.

"Lastly, and that one's more of a long shot. I can teach you a spell that'll let you see pools of energy. It should let you see places where weird things has happened when you're close. You'd have to go around looking for them though." The hunters can't help but scowl at Dan. What was he going to ask in return for teaching them such a spell. Surely, he wouldn't do it for free...

The tanuki looks up at the hunters and starts to grin, but his smile falters. "Why are you all looking at me like that? I'm sorry, that's all I got. I did say I'm no investigator."

As Mangas steps out of the airport his spirits are lifted by the crisp air. He stops (right in front of the main door, much to the dismay of the people behind him), stretches, spreading his arms up and lowers them in a wide arc to his sides. He breathes the cold air, tilting his head slightly back looking into the sky, with half closed eyes.
He hates planes. Every single muscle in his body ached and it is only thanks to Eshes endless patience and her ability to calm him down, that he did not jump up mid flight in order to rip out the seat in front of him, so the damage on the plane was limited to Mangas' chair, which lost most of its covering fabric and a good deal of its lining.

Now he feels better. He likes the cold, it helps him focus and keep his anger at bay. Wearing only his plaid fleece shirt, he steps out into the cold, following Matt who is already waiting at the curb, waving him over.

During the drive, he stares out of the window. Winnipeg had changed since he last was here. With nostalgic regret, he looks at the modern houses and sky scrapers that make up the skyline of Winnipeg. He had liked it much more the last time he was here, when it was little more than a trading post and some shacks.

Mangas does not care about the bleak residence, the Custodes had provided. As always, the bed was too short, but the rest was all he needed. A spartan chair and a TV, tuned to the news. But quickly the complains and quarrels of his friends become too much. He gets up with a jolt, the chair tumbling back over the floor, and and stomps outside. "You act like a kindergarten!"
He steps outside into the cold and slams the door behind himself so forcefully, that it almost falls off the hinges.

Eshe likes the cold. What she does not enjoy is being cold in some loser city that cannot be arsed to teach its loser citizens how not to drive like assholes.  To make matters worse, the Custodes safehouse is a miserable thing... as usual, and she starts to wonder whether the organization that Matt works for might not be three jackasses in a van.  

"Lastly, and that one's more of a long shot. I can teach you a spell that'll let you see pools of energy. It should let you see places where weird things has happened when you're close. You'd have to go around looking for them though."

She looks at Dan, and wrinkles her nose in disgust. How could she had been so naive? It was obvious that the little weasel brought us here under false pretenses, and now he was trying to weasel us into some kind of pact - that weasel!  

"Well Tanuki actually," she says aloud, sounding equal parts confused and annoyed.

"Why are you all looking at me like that? I'm sorry, that's all I got. I did say I'm no investigator."  Why was she scowling at him exactly? As myriad reasons to be displeased with the Tanuki begin to form in her mind, they are drowned out by Mangas' admonishment, and the ringing impact of the door pummeling its frame.

Mangas being annoyed I get - it's pretty much par for the course. But why am I feeling so pissy? My god, does he feel like this all the time? I'd wanna punch the living shit out of something... Oh, shit!

Eshe forces the door open, not worrying (too much) about whether it would be possible to close it again, and calls out to Mangas.

"Something weird is going on. I'm not sure exactly what. But get back here, we have to figure this out." She heads back without waiting to see if Mangas is following. Afterall, it wasn't her problem if he decided to stomp off and get himself into trouble.  Except that it was... wasn't it?

"Dan. You are very annoying, but are you also very annoyed?" Normally this question would have been asked with a twinkle in the eye or even a grin to soften the delivery, but her face is placid, and her voice is not particularly kind.  While she is certain that the Tanuki has earned this delivery, she is also painfully aware that this is not how one speaks to a patron. Through gritted teeth, she adds "sorry Dan. What I mean is, I think that something is rubbing me the wrong way, and I wanted to know if you were also experiencing it."

She puts the same question to Matt, and to Mangas (assuming the latter returns).

A loud rumbling noise can be heard from outside, followed by some clatter and shortly after Mangas comes back inside. He hits his head on the door frame, curses long and probably colorfully in some strange language and slams the poor door shut again.
"Let's hear it, what about that spell and what do you want in return. And no funny jokes, I'm not exactly in the mood!"
The accompanying look on Mangas face makes it clear that he really is not in the mood.

Dan frowns when Eshe (correctly) states that he is annoying, but he listens intently as she describes her feelings of superlative annoyance. The hairy fiend lifts up his moist muzzle and sniffs at the air performatively, no doubt trying to appear more perceptive than he was. Those little touches really added a lot to a good con, which he was undeniably trying to pull on the Hunters. His eyebrows shoot up in mock recognition. He turns to Eshe and opens his mouth to spew whatever disingenuous dribble he had come up with during his playacting.

Before Dan can get a word out, Mangas storms back into the room and makes his demand. Dan blinks stupidly. "Uh... nothing. You're helping me, so I'm doing my best to help you," he says, lying through his teeth. Nothing was ever so simple with the so-called Illustrious Society. There was always a price.

The tanuki turns back to Eshe, surely thinking she's the easiest mark. She'd already signed on the dotted line, after all. Or... could she and Dan be pulling a long con? Matt and Mangas wonder... "You're right," Dan says, baiting the hook. "There's something odd about the air here. I didn't catch it at first, because I expected the smell of Onmyōdō," he says, stating the obvious. The pretentious prick had even used the Japanese word for magic in a effort to sound more refined. "It's like... ordering a food you like at a restaurant, only to realize the chef has added a strange bit of spice to it you weren't expecting," he explains, pedantically.

Dan starts to rummage though his bag. "I should have something in here that'll help..." There it was, the useless bauble he was going to try and sell them. The tanuki takes out... a few sticks of incense and a small pot. That was it? Really? He must've really taken the Hunters for fools. Surely, there must be more valuable things in a Tanuki's bag, they think, as they eye it greedily.

Dan clumsily plants the sticks into the pot and lights them with a ridiculous snap of his fingers, like a cheap magician. As the smoke begins the fill the room, the Hunters start to feel... relief. Like a weight being lifted off of their shoulders, all the negative emotions that had taken root into their minds seem to fade away, to be replaced with zen-like relaxation. It feels a bit like being wrapped into a blanket that came straight out of the dryer.

"Better?" Dan asks, the undertone of concern in his voice touching. "Unfortunately, it's only going to work in here, so whenever you head out, you're going to have to wrestle with all of those dark thoughts," he says, understating the value of his assistance.

Dan turns his adorable, chubby face towards Mangas. "Now, the Sight ritual." Patiently, he explains the steps of the spell. It requires the user to draw symbols on their eyelids with a brush and a special kind of ink, while chanting a specific incantation ("furukute atarashī kami yo, mienai mono ni watashi no me o hiraitekudasai."). When the recipient closes their eyes, they'll be able to see pools of magical energy. He searches through his bag. He keeps looking. He becomes more agitated, using amusing, exagerrated motions to dig through his stuff. "Oh, no... I'm out of the ink we need..." He looks towards the door. "You're going to have to get some if you want to use the Sight."

As Mangas breathes in the fumes of the incense he  screws up his face and starts  "Do you have to poison us with your stink bombs..." , but then something unexpected happens. His face relaxes, the ever present grim look fades away and a look of surprise spreads over his face. He stands up straight, making him appear even taller as the tension from his body visibly vanishes. It has been centuries since he felt this way. He feels... at peace. Completely unawares if his surroundings, focused only on himself, he drops himself onto his chair, which promptly breaks under the sudden load. The friends flinch wondering how many more chairs will fall victim to the inevitable outbreak of rage that will follow, but... instead they hear giggling. As if flood gates opened it quickly rises to a loud, hearty laughter.

The feeling of peace brought on by the smoke is bone deep, and it brings a beatific smile to Eshe's face. Hearing Mangas giggling is startling - she didn't even know that he could laugh Well of course he can laugh, everyone can laugh... but this? It's... so beautiful. Literally, full of beauty!

Eshe leaps over to Mangas with a single grand jeté, crossing the space between them as if buoyed by the rising tide of laughter. She braces herself squarely before him, and reaches out to help him up. "Need a hand?"

Still giggling, Mangas shakes his head. "No, thank you, it's alright." He gets up, picks up the pieces of the chair and places them next to the bin. Then he turns back to Dan. "Don't worry about the ink, we'll try to pick some up, not your fault it got lost. Where would one find some? And also, where can I find some of these herbs you lit? They are... liberating and I could picture having some for blue days. Hahaha" another wave of honest laughter bursts out of Mangas. He wipes a tear from his eyes and then turns to Eshe. "Hehehe... Eshe, be so kind and hand me a glass of water. This smoke really dries out the mouth, doesn't it?"

Dan rubs his chin as he thinks, the old master pondering the mysteries of life. "For the ink... Chinatown, maybe?" The difference between the image he projected and the simplicity of the answer was endearingly goofy. "It's sumi, Japanese calligraphy ink."

"As for the incense... that might be a bit more difficult. It's made of agarwood by Shinto priests using traditional methods. Almost impossible to get outside of Japan and rather difficult when you're there. These were a gift from a good friend," he says. His eyes look distant and sad.

Unsurprisingly, the tumbler of water looks small in Mangas' hand. Eshe pours for all takers, and then serves herself.  She's not particularly thirsty, but one seldom went wrong with water.  Except for that fish monster... I hope that the kids are alright



Silently over the moon at the prospect of having more of the incense on hand, the Chosen begins a brief mental checklist of potential connects. After all, "rather difficult" and "almost impossible" were synonyms for "doable if you wanted it badly enough"; the Illustrious Society had taught her that much. That said, she is not insensitive to Dan's sadness, and reaches out to give him a comforting scritch behind the ears - if he allows it.

"If we're going to get more of this ink, I think that we should figure out where exactly we can get it from before leaving here. I'm going to see what I can find nearby. Heck! Maybe someone delivers!"

While Eshe and Dan discuss the the materials needed for the Tanuki's magic, and Mangas has another fit of the giggles, Matt feels his pager vibrate. He looks at the message displayed on its screen and frowns. "Excuse me for a moment," he says and steps into one of the bedrooms, closing the door behind him.

Eshe manages to find an Arts and Crafts store near Chinatown that carries sumi ink. Unfortunately, they do not offer same-day delivery. Dan peeks over her shoulder. "Maybe you could get a messenger service to pick it up, but seeing how everyone in town seems to be affected by the aura of jerkiness... I don't know. Might be better to pick it up yourselves."

Her searches also reveal the existence of the Japanese Cultural Association of Manitoba, which has an community center in at the eastern edge of the Pacific Industrial neighborhood, a 10 minute drive from Chinatown.

Matt steps back out of the bedroom. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Work emergency. Don't ask, can't say." He hands Eshe a burner phone and the keys to the SUV. "My superiors would like you to keep going with your current investigation. You can reach agent support with this phone if you're in trouble." He gives her a quick apologetic smile.

Matt nods at Dan and Mangas, takes a big inhale over the incense, and heads out the door.

Mangas smiles and nods Matt farewell and then turns to the rest. "Great. Then let's head out and get the ink. We can stop by in the restaurant where that guy was crushed."
He turns to the door, opens it, the crisp air from outside feels sinister. Ah, it won't be so bad. Or will it? Is that just the incense talking? Only one way to find out! Mangas takes a wide step outside, heading for the car.

It doesn't take long for Mangas to feel the oppressive air of the city wash away the incense's effect. By the time he reaches the SUV, he's in a foul mood. The cold is biting. All the passerbys seem to be glaring at him. A car in the street cuts another one off, the blaring sound of horns assault his hearing.

Thankfully, the knowledge that this is being imposed on them helps Eshe and Mangas take a bit of distance from their feelings. It's like carrying extra weight, but at least they can shift it in their grasp.

Dan stays behind, saying that his camouflage wouldn't hold up for long, so it's best he stays out of sight. The Hunters climb into the SUV and drive off towards Chinatown.


INT. DAY - 不同的进口 - WINNIPEG, MB

The Hunters find the shop with some difficulty. It's a small hole in the wall with a sign in Chinese only. Inside, the overflowing shelves are close to each other, making the narrow aisles difficult to navigate for Mangas. It feels like the whole store was designed to keep him out.

Eshe and Mangas find the ink they need and take it to the cash. The cashier, an elderly man wearing a collared shirt and some well-worn dress pants rings up their order without looking at them. "30 dollars," he says, in lightly accented English.

The Hunters, however, are certain that they saw it for 10$ on the shelves they picked it from. The old man looks up at them expectantly, his expression innocent, but there's a hint of mockery in his eyes. This was no error on his part. He was trying to rob them.

OOC for Mangas:

Mangas slams a ten dollar bill on the small counter and leans forward. His right hand reaches into a jar of, hygienically questionably, unpacked fortune cookies. He now almost looks straight down at the old man and says, through clenched teeth  "It's ten dollars. Otherwise..." He pulls his right hand forward, theatrically crushing the fist full of cookies. Only then he realises, that the fist is still stuck in the jar.
With a guttural cry he hits his fist, with the jar, into the wall behind the man. The jar shatters and glass splinters fly everywhere.
Angered even more by the several nasty cuts on his now free fist, he grabs the lampion lamp hanging above the counter, rips it off the wall and throws it into a shelf with sitting cats rocking their right arm back and forth in odd unison.
"It's ten dollars!" and dropping another twenty on the counter,  "and this is for the lamp."
He grabs the ink and turns to leave.

Whn the old man behind the counter takes a breath to reply something, Mangas whirls around, his face screwed up in anger and punches the shelf next to himself.
Silence.
Then the shelf very slowly starts tipping and breaks the silence with a deafening crash. Mangas turns around and leaves.

Next to the bills, in the midst of glass and dirt from the ceiling, a fortune rests saying Never do anything half way.

Eshe bites back an acid comment to Mangas about his ridiculous temper; it would likely only end in more unnecessary violence.

"I am very sorry. You may not believe this, but there is something strange happening in the city. People are being less kind. More violent. And my friend... well, let's just say that he is a little more susceptible than most." She stares pointedly at Mangas, daring him to contradict her, while hoping that she was not opening them up to greater risk. Agents of chaos and trickery, unlike her, were oft ill intentioned and could be anywhere.

"Again, very sorry for all thiss," she says, leaving the shop for the bitter cold of the streets of Winnipeg.

The old man clamps his mouth shut when Mangas wheels around. His eyes, wide with surprise and fear, stay on the big man as the shelf topples over. They stay on him even has Eshe tries to smooth things over. They only pivot to her once Mangas has gone outside.

As soon as Eshe steps out, she hears the door lock behind her. Based on the distance between her and the elderly man at the time she turned around, she guesses that he must be a master at parkour to have made it to the door so fast. Over the next few seconds, the OPEN sign is flipped to closed, a metal grate is closed behind the glass door and windows and the lights are shut.

Maybe it's not love that gives men wings. Maybe it's fear.


INT. DAY - EDOKKO IZAKAYA - WINNIPEG, AB

Eshe and Mangas walk into the Izakaya that Dan singled out as being a likely place of interest. A man had been found crushed in the basement, but nothing else was disturbed. No likely culprit had been identified, nor any method. The police had ruled it an accidental death.

The establishment is surprisingly busy for a place where a dead body had been recently found. Apparently, people didn't seem to care much about some stranger's death if it got in the way of them stuffing their stupid faces. A bored looking hostess lifts her head from her phone. She blinks in surprise when she sees the odd couple standing before her and has to crane her neck to look up at Mangas. Wheels seem to turn in her head as she calculates the amount of food someone his size was likely to consume. She smiles broadly at them, baring her teeth like a predator inviting prey into their den.

"Hi! Welcome to Edokko Izakaya! Table for two?" she says with forced enthusiasm.

She takes two menus and leads them down a row of tables on one side and a long bar on the other. Towards the back are a number of tables for teppanyaki, with a built-in cooking surface for those annoying chef performances you can find in such establishments. An obvious ploy to extract more tips from a social media-addled customer base reaching for anything likely to make their miserable lives a bit less unbearable.

As the hostess leads them towards a small table in the corner, one of the teppanyaki cooks draws the Hunters' eyes. He is a large man, as wide as the grill he stands behind. He may possibly even as big as Mangas, but where the werebear has the build of a bodybuilder, the cook is built more like a powerlifter. He has a large gut, big meaty arms, and fists the size of cinderblocks. His cooking implements look comically small in his hands, but he hands them with a deftness and precision that indicate a surprising amount of dexterity. On his head, he wears a hachimaki.

While the other tables all seem to be putting their service-providers to the test, his is rather well-behaved.

Ehse almost bumps into the hostess, who has stopped at their designated table. Why is this airhead standing in the way? "Your server will be with you shortly," she says with a sickly-sweet smile, as if it wasn't obvious, hitting every note of the customer service playbook in a plain attempt at leeching the most money she can from the two "tourists".

I bet that Mangas could take that meathead. I might ask him to if he messes up our order. Eshe feels her lip curl in a sneer, and recognises it as a sign of the miasmic negativity that they are here to investigate. She shakes her head and leans in to speak to Mangas in hushed tones.

"Let's order. At some point, I'll chat up the chef and see what he knows, and you can scope out the place. Keep your phone handy - that way, we can message or call as need be."

She turns to snap at fhe hostess for being as obnoxious as she was obtrusive, and catches herself just in time. Instead, she gives the woman what she hopes looks like a sincere smile.
"Thank you. Before you go, can you settle a bet for us? We're back on Winnipeg after some time away, and I swear that things seem tenser than the last time we were here, while Manny here," she gestures to Mangas. "Says that everything is just peachy. So? Which of us right? "

The hostess blinks stupidly. Her vacuous, pasted-on smile remains immutable. "Comprehension" dawns on her face slowly, like a sunrise seen through smog. "Oh, you must have last visited during the summer. The harsh winter weather really takes its toll on people I'm afraid," she says, patronizingly. She turns around and generously gives the hunters the gift of her absence.

Mangas barely fits on the chair. It creaks under his weight, whining at its terrible fate.

From their table, the hunters have a good view of the large chef's teppanyaki table, a few meters away. He seems to have noticed them. Mangas is not exactly inconspicuous, after all. The large chef, however, turn back to his grill and keeps on cooking, dismissing the two newcomers at a distant table as unworthy of his attention.

The two hunters are abandoned by the staff as they wait for their lazy server, who is probably off smoking or railing lines of coke rather than doing their fucking job.

Mangas eyes the large cook with suspicion. "I swear to you, if he starts throwing food that I'm supposed to catch with my mouth, he will eat his pretentious hat." he growls to Eshe. "And they don't even have chairs that hold a reasonably sized man like myself. But, yes, let's order so we can get out of this hole as soon as possible." He starts flicking through the menu, which lists a large number of dishes, each with an (authentic or pretend) Chinese name that does not mean anything to Mangas. Annoyed with trying to decipher the meaning of each dish, he slams the menu on the table. "Who's supposed to understand any of that. I'll just take the 59 and the 112, whatever that is. And I need a beer. I hope they have something proper and not that weak imported piss."
He cranes his head, almost being as tall as passing people standing up, and looks for the server. "Where is that lazy weasel of a server, damn it? I'm hungry!"

When Mangas self-describes as reasonably-sized, Eshe has to smother a laugh under a fit of coughing. She sips tepid, metallic tasting water from a dingy glass. While it was funny to hear such a large, powerful man whine like a child, she was certain that Mangas' incessant fussing would eventual grow tiresome.

Looking from one big man to another, she takes some pleasure at the idea of Mangas feeding the chef his own hat. Mangas could work out his frustrations and I'd get dinner and a show.  She smiles, and it is a cold, mirthless thing.

Eshe scans the menu and picks a few smaller dishes to round out the order; assuming that the people working here were competent, she would have a decent meal (even if Mangas was not willing to share).

The server finally appears, looking disheveled. They clearly do not care about their appearance, as a number of hair strands stick out from their ponytail. Sweat is beading un their forward unhygienically. They can barely be bothered to smile. They mechanically take the hunters' order and disappears, their whole interaction taking but a few rude seconds.

The food comes quickly, barely giving the hunters time to talk amongst themselves and relax at their table. Clearly, the staff can't wait for them to leave so they can sit another couple of idiots to fleece.

The hunters find fault with every dish. One is too spicy, the other not enough. One has too much sauce, the other is too dry.

As they eat, they notice the large chef's table finish their meal and leave. The big man extirpates himself from behind the grill and heads down the hallway towards the back of the restaurant where the toilets are located.

Mangas' 59 turns out to be a side of cooked rice, the incomprehensible name giving no hint of its plain nature. The 112 is a stew carelessly slapped on the plate. The rim is full of splashes, evidence of the hastily served food. It is bland and has the aromatic complexity of a sock.
Mangas eats a few bites, just as much as his hunger makes him force down, then he listlessly stirs the content of his plate with his fork.

When the voluminous cook leaves his position, Mangas says "My fork was sticky. I will go wash my hands, who knows what was on that thing."
He gets up and follows the big man to the back.

Mangas inches his way between the tightly packed tables, eliciting abruptly cut protests from the cowardly chuds he accidentally bumps into along the way. He leaves fear and resentment in his wake.

The hallway that leads to the bathrooms is blessedly empty, leaving the big man enough room to walk normally, but it is poorly lit and the floor is wet and dirty from melting snow dragged in by the customer's boots.

A quick peek into the men's room shows that the big cook is not in there. However, the fire door at the end of the hall is propped open with a brick, letting the heat out and wasting electricity. No wonder the planet was heading for climate catastrophe, seeing how careless people were. Mangas' keen sense of smell can pick up the foul smell of cigarette wafting in through the gap.

The werebear gets closer and looks through the small opening, but he can't see the big cook. He hears him, however, as he takes a long drag from his smoke. He's standing a couple of meters away, to the door's right.

Mangas opens the door, leans out and tells the cook "You know, it's getting cold in here. And thanks to idiots like you the planet is going to shits. Close the damn door behind yourself.
Then we also don't need to smell the stink of your lung-sandwich!"

EXT. DAY - ALLEY - WINNIPEG, AB

The big cook is leaning against a wall, a few meters from the door. Mangas doesn't notice him immediately, smelling him before seeing him. It's as if he melded with the wall's texture, which is odd, considering his prodigious size. Not the kind of person that's easy to miss. Despite the cold, the big man is not wearing a coat, just his cook's uniform. If he's bothered by the well-below-freezing temperature, he shows no sign of it.

The cook raises an eyebrow at "lung-sandwich". "Mind your own business, tiny," he says in a deep baritone, before taking another long drag and blowing it in Mangas' direction.

OOC for Mangas:

The cloud of cigarette smoke spreads out quickly, but to the heightened senses of the reasonably sized man in the door it's overwhelmingly intense.  Calls me "tiny", that arrogant piece of garbage. I know I'm not tiny. But the tone he said it with is so unnerving. I... I'm gonna dump him into the dumpster where he belongs!... But I promised Eshe... Grinding his teeth the man  looks up at the cook who looks back with a derisive smile.
I'm sorry, Eshe. For a moment the man looks sad, but then anger distorts his face and he starts yelling  "DON'T CAAAOOOORRRR!!!"
With the first word he seems to start to grow. His shoulders and arms widen with packs of muscles and hair. His face starts to stretch, his jaw extends forward and grows fearsome teeth, his eyes become black and sink back into the skull. Half way through the sentence, the word becomes a roar and the enormous bear charges forward.

Eshe picks listlessly at the meal, uncertain as to why she was disappointed. It was never going to be good. When the server comes by, she does her best to look pleased with the "food" they'd been given. "Excuse me. I heard that someone had died in the basement. Anyone on shift today who working when it happened?"

INT. DAY - EDOKKO IZAKAYA - WINNIPEG, AB

The server, looking annoyed by the question, points out a scrawny busboy clearing a nearby table to Eshe and promptly zooms away to help another customer.

The busboy is carelessly stacking used plates and bowls in a large plastic container. Eshe shudders as she thinks about the countless number of serving containers this young fool must have broken. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, making the hunter thankful this unhygienic ass doesn't handle food.

When she questions him about the dead body found in the basement, he sighs. "Great, another true crime freak," he says tiredly. "Look, I'll tell you what I told the others. This guy broke into our basement to rob the place. He knocked some crates over and got squished. End of story."

When she presses him and mentions the fact that the body was found without any of the nearby crates and furniture disturbed, Eshe is rewarded with a look of fear from the busboy. He looks around nervously and tilts his head towards the hallway to the bathroom and heads over.

Once they're away from the rest of the staff and customers, the busboy leans in close. Eshe can smell his foul breath and sweat. "How did you know that? Look, I don't want any trouble. I'm just covering for Hiroto. You know, the big cook. If you've seen him, you know who I mean. He's actually the one who found the body. His hands were covered in blood. He said I should say I found it. The body. He turned that guy to paste! I wasn't about to risk my neck for a fucking thief. So, I said I found him."

The busboy frowns in confusion when Eshe asks if he has any unusual weaknesses. "I think he might be allergic to beans. We have to make sure there aren't any at his table when he's cooking."


EXT. DAY - ALLEY - WINNIPEG, AB

The cook's other eyebrow joins the first in the raised position when Mangas starts to transform. Rather than panic or flee, like a sane person would, he pushes off the wall and assumes a low, wide-legged stance, extending one arm in front of him. This further infuriates Mangas, who charges at him in his bear form.

When they meet, it feels to Mangas like he's hit a wall and he bounces off the big cook. The werebear wheels around and swipes down with his paw, but the big cook catches it with his massive hand. He turns, using the werebear's momentum to flip him over his shoulder and send him flying into the wall he was previously leaning on.

As he picks himself up, Mangas can hear the big cook's deep voice, somehow cutting through the haze of anger and aggression. "Been a while since I met one of your kind. What that fool's doing must be especially hard for you. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you don't calm the fuck down."

OOC for Mangas:

The bear stares at the big man, his mind racing.  The haze of anger and rage lifted by the deep, somehow calming, voice of his opponent. You don't understand! Yes, it is very hard for me. It is always hard. I don't want to be angry. But I can't help it, it is in me. I try to keep it down, but... YOU MAKE ME SO ANGRY!! The bear opens his massive jaw, but out comes only a loud roar  "ROOOAAARRRR" The rage washes over him again and, blinded by it, the bear charges again.