1.1 Discord

When Last We Met

At the end of a long work day, Daniel’s acquaintance David Orlog — an unassuming man with a friendly, tired, and cautious air about him — asked him hesitantly about his PI friend and whether they might be willing to take on a case on his behalf. After some quick phone calls, Maeve agreed to meet with Daniel and her prospective client at her office (read: shoebox) in Miller’s Square…

Voice Over - Maeve O'Connor

Are you familiar with the phrase "she knows where the bodies are buried?" In my case, those bodies are literal. When you talk to ghosts, you can go straight to the source. Handy, for a PI in The City. But living with ghosts has its downsides, too. The drafts in the shower are brutal, for one thing. Not that my place has much hot water to begin with.

My neighbors think one of two things — that I have an undisclosed cat in my apartment, or that I talk to my espresso machine. One of those two things is true. It's a very nice espresso machine — low-maintenance, stylish, hard-bodied, great performance. Sets a pretty high bar, really.

Tonight was looking to be a two-taco night at the office. Not a seven-taco stakeout; just an intimate evening with a cortado and a pile of case files. Which really means doodling Persons of Interest in the margins.

Five years in this business. Long enough to learn that no matter how many ways there are to kill a person, they always have two things in common. One: they're messy. Two: they all involve paperwork. Which is much easier to tolerate with a few well-placed chibis.

I began mentally adjusting my taco count when two shadows appeared at my door. I knew one of those silhouettes. An artist never forgets a profile she's sketched before — and I was pretty sure this one wasn't here to bring me extra hot sauce.

Introductions

John Jones and Isabella Aguilar are talking in the back room of a dive bar preparing to go on stage in a much smaller venue than either has played in a long time. The two musicians, internationally renowned in different ways, walk out on stage before a crowd of about eighty-five people who have no idea what they are about to experience. Isabella takes the mic, John sits down behind the drums and counts in, and the place loses its mind. Furious texting begins, and within minutes the door is flung open wide as people stream in and a crowd gathers to witness musical history.

Inez: ”You’re not Daniel. You don’t care about a neat room.”

Geoffrey Hill is at home in the condo he shares with Daniel and their daughter Inez. He doggedly nags Inez about cleaning her room, though they both know Geoffrey isn’t the dad who cares about her mess. Even so, she finally relents when he reminds her about the long, dry lecture in her future if she doesn't get it done. Daniel has been working late hours and Geoffrey is holding down the domestic front. That means pizza's on the menu, while Geoffrey muses aloud that surely Daniel would tell him if something was really wrong, and he still wonders if he can talk that man into a tattoo...

Michelle: “I … understand how experiments are. I’ll… be back.”

Sergei Petrov is in a darkened lab, intently studying vials of viscous black-purple liquid that bubbles thickly. He furiously scribbles observations with his right hand and types additional lab notes with his left. Dr. Michelle Adams, one of his colleagues, sidles in, observing him. She tries to chat him up, expressing great appreciation for his... work. Sergei misses all the subtext and keeps frowning at his experiment, while Michelle takes the hint and eventually leaves, down but probably not out.

Kevin: “Do you think they check IDs at the door?”

Denver (gestures to the pair of them): "Does it matter?"

Kevin Hatch and Denver Morrison are inside a yoga studio in Independence, getting in some solo work. Across the street, a small dive bar & music venue gets louder and louder and louder. A huge crowd starting to gather at the doors. After a brief philosophical conversation about chakras, focusing through the tides of change, and their eligibility for senior discounts, the pair roll up their mats in defeat and opt to bypass the club for the nearby hookah lounge.

O'Connor Investigations

GalleryMaeve: "I live in the part of the city the Dropkick Murphys sing about."

Daniel and David enter Maeve’s office — a small, well-worn, jumbled affair with a large cork board adorned with photos, string, and colorful sticky notes keeping watch over a scarred desk and piles of crumpled takeout bags that can at least see the trash can from where they lay on the floor.

David tells Maeve he was there on behalf of his boss — Armand Short. She raises an eyebrow, and David passes out NDAs like party favors before he gets to the point of his visit.

Everyone in The City knows the name Armand Short. He is the head of Apples and Oranges, one of the largest companies in the area. Big ideas, big money. David explained that Armand’s daughter, Briana Short, has gone radio silence and his boss is getting worried.

Maeve keeps her focus on her notes and her expression carefully blank while David tells her about Briana. Twenty-seven years old, focused on children's charity work, trust fund baby, raised by her mother, with an estranged father who nonetheless made an effort to show up and provided financial support. Briana had a traumatic kidnapping incident at a glass factory about five years ago that seemed to deeply affect her, though she was physically unharmed. She and Armand did regular lunches up until about two and a half months ago, when she disappeared without a trace. There was no fight, no explanation — nothing. Armand waited about a month before he got worried. He’s now asked David to find him proof of life, and ideally a phone call home, just to reassure himself that she’s okay.

Any physical evidence will work for David. Maeve doesn’t need to fix or force the issue. Just find Briana, confirm she's breathing, get her to call home. And of course, keep it quiet.

Deeper questioning exposes that Briana didn't always approve of how her father did business, and she'd grown up comfortable enough to have the luxury of opinions about it. That dynamic had always been there, but according to David, it wasn’t a catalyst or a fight. Briana’s last known residence was a house in Parkside that she shared with her boyfriend, Obierika Adichie.

Maeve briskly agrees to take the case, and David excuses himself. Daniel and Maeve look at each other as she sets down her pen, then at the photo David left in a file on the desk. They both know this Briana — five years ago, she was kidnapped along with Maeve, John, and Geoffrey. She literally walked through fire and lost her recently gained powers on the other side of the candy witch’s oven, remembering nothing of the brief interlude when she emerged.

Daniel: "I get the distinct impression that London doesn't keep in touch with people. He keeps tabs on them."

They can't recall anyone in their circle successfully keeping up with Briana. She was hard to reach, and London was the only one they know who tried multiple times. They get in the car and head to game night to talk it over with their friends.

Game Night

Geoffrey: "If Daniel had been running this game, we would have been tracking time intervals very carefully and he'd be imposing acid damage."

Maeve: "And this is why I like you better."

Tall skyscrapers and glowing lights roll by as a battered Honda pulls into the parking garage at Daniel and Geoffrey’s sleek, modern condo Downtown. They quickly abandon their NDAs and fill the group in on their conversation with David. Nobody in their extended crew has been able to get much of a response from Briana for a very, very long time. They assume she vaguely remembers them, but none of the events, of their shared experience five years ago.

They make the decision to go and visit her last known address in the morning before focusing on the gelatinous cube on the table.

GalleryJohn: "All my parts work. I'm totally fine. I am without pain whatsoever."

Downtime

Prior to going to visit Adichie, the group scatters to see what they can find out about Briana's whereabouts using their own resources.

Recalling the place where Briana was fighting prior to the events five years ago, Maeve pulls the online fight schedules for Kelly's Gym. Briana had been on the roster consistently until three months ago, but since then... nothing. The timeline matches the last lunch with her father almost exactly.

Daniel works the insurance side from his office — life policies, kidnapping coverage, anything that would move money around if something had happened to Briana or Armand. He finds nothing. No claims. No reinsurance triggers. No evidence that anyone had filed against any kind of loss. No police investigations opened either. Whatever this was, it had no official footprint.

Geoffrey digs into the identity of Obierika Adichie — unusual name, fairly unique. He's a therapist with a Parkside address – same address as the one attached to Briana. Nothing in the Parkside area suggested either of them had relocated or were trying to stay off the radar.

John works the upscale scene — restaurants, clubs, the underground rave circuit — listening for any mention of Briana. People knew Armand Short had a daughter. They know of Briana, but nobody actually knows her. Nobody knows she fights. The part of her life that might have led somewhere useful is the part they'd kept sealed off from the world her father moves in.

Geoffrey: "One of them is for you. One of them."

Maeve: "Only one? This is not a one taco operation, Geoffrey."

Geoffrey: "This is just to get us started."

In the morning, Maeve's tiny office resembles one of those "phone booth dares" as everyone collects for coffee, tacos, burritos, and innuendo. They pile into Maeve's car and make for the upscale neighborhood of Parkside.

Parkside: Briana's House

The car sticks out like a sore thumb in a well-heeled neighborhood where bungalows cost twice what they would anywhere else and the dogs all wear Lululemon. (Did you know Louis Vuitton makes running shoes?) While the group tries to array a large number of people to look casual standing on the front porch, Maeve knocks on the door. A good looking man in his late 20s with a natural afro and faintly preppy attire answers. He seems like a genuinely lovely, earnest person, who has taken a hard hit and is in danger of cracking.

Cautious at first, Obierika thaws when Maeve mentions Briana. As the conversation reveals that the group new Bri from the events of the kidnapping five years ago, he visibly relaxes.

Obierika tells them that Bri left two or three months ago with no explanation. They didn't fight or anything. There had been something off, but he thought it was just stress from work. She told him she loved him, but she had to leave. About a month ago he couldn't take it anymore and texted to make sure she was breathing. She responded that she was okay, and not to worry... but he's worried anyway. This house is her dad's, and here Obierika is still living in it. The maid still comes and everything. The whole thing is super weird.

He mentions that Bri had a training room in the house and they ask if they can take a look to see if there is anything that might help them find her. He opens the door and they venture inside. The house is small but well appointed, featuring African art and photos on the walls. Geoffrey searches the gym room — a former den that now features a punching bag, speed bag, and some assorted strength equipment. The bulletin board has the usual layer of accumulated clutter: photographs, ticket stubs, the detritus of life. On a hunch, Geoffrey peeks behind it. Out flutters a business card.

Tiny Tanner's

No address. No phone number. Just the name. They thank Obierika for his help, and promise to let him know if they find her.

The First Rule of Fight Club

It turns out getting an address for Tiny Tanner's requires the right wrong kind of contacts. Geoffrey texts some of his tattoo clients from La Colonia — the ones with gang affiliations and no reason to lie about them — and gets back a clear response: it's a fight club. Dark, bloody, and not a place you want to be anywhere near. They don't have an address, but they know the reputation.

Cillian: "Is this a professional setting, Lilac?"

Maeve: "It always is, Detective."

Maeve calls Cillian Tennant, her very friendly neighborhood crooked detective. She’s always leery of owing him too many favors, but the gang is out of options. Cillian confirms what Geoffrey's sources already told them: Tiny Tanner's is a gym that's a front for a bloody, illegal, death-match fight club.

Cillian: "So we're doing the 'poor little me' thing?"

Maeve: "... is it working?"

Maeve tries to manipulate an address out of him. Cillian knows when "Lilac" is playing him and is amused enough to let it happen. So he gives her the address… then says he'll meet her there in twenty minutes, hanging up before she can stop him.

GalleryGeoffrey: "We have like literally the least serious people in this entire cast list."

GalleryJohn: "There's four people hotboxing and three people having beers in a Toyota Celica."

The misfit crew of investigators is less than thrilled to have a cop in the mix, but it is what it is. And he's not exactly a by-the-book sort of guy. Cillian hasn't left them much time, so they tumble into the clown car and head into the deserted streets of Wildknock.

Streets of Wildknock

Wildknock at night is a place you definitely don't want to visit alone. Graffiti everywhere, drug deals and prostitutes. The electricity occasionally goes out for no reason. Nobody wants to live there. If you are living there, it's because you can't get out. It's uncomfortably familiar to Geoffrey. Because a few people can and do get out.

Deranged Man: "Thunderbolts and lighting! Very very frightening!"

Maeve drives down rain-slick streets with low-lying fog. The neighborhood feels empty despite the streetlights shining from a '50s-style diner with dead-eyed patrons and a bar playing a soft scratchy recording of Ol' Blue Eyes. Streetlights hum, their yellow light reflecting ghoulishly off the fog in the distance and coming closer. An old voice raves about the end of the world, a lonely cry in the stale night. He wanders into a homeless shelter with thunderbolts in his eyes.

There's a police cruiser with the lights off parked to the side.

Cillian unfolds himself from the car when Maeve knocks on the window. Scruffy, absurdly tall, he leans into the shady cop aesthetic so hard it reads as a style choice. No uniform, so he's either off duty or not required to wear one. He and Maeve volley shots at each other a bit before he takes the initiative to introduce himself to the rest of the party since she's clearly not going to do it.

The introductions are interrupted by a slamming car door.

Looking up, the group sees a familiar woman with a french braid and a gym bag, dressed to fight. It's Bri! Cillian heads for her immediately, calling her name. (Wait, what?)

Two things happen at once. Bri recognizes the gang and runs over and hugs Maeve. She babbles about being sorry that she never got in touch, but that they should leave, now. She's a little thrown when she hears they've been looking for her specifically.

Then she registers Cillian. She is shell-shocked. She immediately and aggressively tells him to go away, reminding him that this is not his thing and not his place. When prompted about how they obviously know each other, their eyes meet before they awkwardly look away.

Cillian: "Bri, what are you even doing here?"

Bri: "Shut up! You don't get to ask me questions, buddy."

Maeve: "...So this thing ended well, did it?"

GalleryWren (observing the Briana/Cillian/Maeve dynamic): "The worst version of sexual tension."

GalleryGeoffrey: "Agreed. I was like... oooh, sexual awkwardness."

Then Bri's pleas that they all just GTFO are interrupted by another slamming car door.

A lean, muscular woman, about 5'9 and in her late 30s, emerges. She looks like she's had a long day, and while she's dressed for the gym, there's still auto grease around the edges and under her nails. She glances over at Bri, nods, and says, "You coming?" before continuing on towards the building. She dismisses Bri's distressed cries of, "Wren! What are you doing here? Wren, you can't..." and walks inside.

Bri: "Are you even allowed to... are you going to lose your license or something if you come in here with us?"

Cillian: "Like I give a fuck."

At this point, Bri becomes frantic. She insists that the group must get Wren out no matter what. If they promise her that, she'll get them inside, even though they should not be here. (She's been pretty insistent on this point, in case you haven't noticed.)

They agree to her terms, and Bri gets them through the door as her "entourage" despite some considering side-eye from the bouncer.

Tiny Tanner's

Maeve (removing her wig): "This is definitely not a place for Work Hair."

Tiny Tanner's really looks like a warehouse. In this area of town, all the buildings look like they're within a year of collapsing, this one included. As the group gets inside the building, they hear announcers muffled by the concrete walls and the sound of cheering and a crowd.

Cillian tries one more time to get Bri to leave, falling back on the... cheesiest of nicknames. She glares at him, makes him promise to get all of them out of here, and reiterates that Wren will die if she steps foot in that ring. She insists that she has to be here, though she can't (or won't) tell them why, and says she'll be in touch tomorrow. She gestures in the direction they should go, then departs for the locker room. Wren is nowhere to be seen.

As they wander in the direction Bri sent them, Maeve and Cillian have a quiet conversation. She tells him the basics of why they're here, and he tells her the basics of what he knows about Tiny Tanner's. It's a mob operation. He's not entirely sure which one, but he thinks it's part of Hades' business ventures, which are headquartered in Ocean Heights. It's a bunch of filthy rich fucks betting on who lives and who dies. Maeve freezes at the mention of Hades, and asks for some elaboration on that name, which he says he'll save for a later time.

Cillian: "Like, Hades is not— Hades is a guy. He's not like— it's a code name."

Maeve (sarcastically): "Right, no, he would never be— No, of course not."

The group rounds the corner, and the voices get louder. A sharp turn in the hallway leads them the base of an octagon. There's already a fight happening. Maeve quickly realizes one of these people has powers, and the other does not. And it goes about like one would expect, with an inexplicably icy guy up against the chains who is quickly turned into a gruesomely dead corpse by his mythically powered opponent.

Maeve and Geoffrey, in unison: "We are in so. Much. Trouble."

Tentatively Maeve expands her awareness beyond the threshold and the whole place lights up with otherworldly energy in the stands and a ton of ghosts. her attention is drawn to the intense glow of a VIP box high above the arena floor. Maeve gets a sense of wide, void-black eyes and wet blood off of the three it-girl chic women within. Suddenly one of the many ghosts flies at Maeve, sensing her attention, and she stumbles back wildly into Cillian, eerily whispering that "they" are everywhere. He can tell that something is off, and stays with her, managing to stop her flailing and keeping her steady while she tries to swap her metaphysical senses for her physical ones.

Kevin excuses himself to the bar to make trouble while the others take in the scene and keep an eye out for Wren. Following the bartender's glance, he sees three girls with sorority good looks avidly watching the crowd below, holding court in a VIP box. Their eyes sparkle a little something extra when they watch the dead guy getting pulled out of the ring. They are clearly the ones in charge.

Bartender: "You don't want to piss them off."

Kevin: "You'll sell me a whole bottle of Everclear, but you don't like me smoking a joint in here?"

Bartender (glances towards the VIP Box): "Yeah."

Wren and Bri emerge from the locker room, kitted out, and arguing fiercely. Bri tries to convince Wren to leave; she declines, telling Bri she needs the money. When Bri tries to offer cash for her departure, she refuses curtly and stalks off. John gives chase. Maeve is still immobilized, trying to try to stabilize her Sight. Kevin takes another shot of Everclear, idly prepping the bar for a "distraction."

Bri steps confidently into the ring.

And the three women look on in delight.