The Owl, a local pub in Markham.
It's a decent bar, food's nothing amazing, beer's beer. Good place to get smashed, But tonight it's not being used for that purpose. Tonight, a local pastor of a church, Saint Patrick's has organized a meeting. Pastor Jeremy, has rented out the rooftop terrace, offering free food, drink and the opportunity to talk about the.. strange things happening around here.

Pastor Jeremy is a middle aged Asian man with black hair and glasses, he's a kind man but a bit zealous about his faith, having to be told to "turn it down a notch" occasionally. Tonight though, he does not look like himself. He looks drained, like he hasn't slept in days.

On the rooftop, the moon and stars shine brightly, the sky is clear and a gentle wind flows through the street. About 40 to 50 people have showed up, some of them standing at the back with disinterest, others grabbing as much food and drink as possible, some are sitting at tables with friends, some are by themselves.

Eventually Jeremy gets up to talk.
"Hello Everyone. I'm glad you could make it. Feel free to eat and drink as much as you'd like. It's on the churchs tab." Some laughter. He smiles weakly. "Now as you've all come to know, there's been a few... disasters happening here lately. Bad things.". A brief pause. A school getting shot up by the valedictorian. A faithful law abiding church goer robbing a bank. Professors losing themselves to drugs. Homeless people disappearing, only to wind up dead somewhere in an alleyway. So many people, good people, becoming alcoholics lately. These thoughts flood everyone's mind.

He continues "But I've organized this today so that we can put a stop to it. So that we can go out and show these people what they're doing to themselves, to the community!". He goes on for about another minute, his eyes burning with a passionate fire, even as his body looks like it's like crap.

"What can we do to fix this?" he practically roars, trying to incite the crowd. A few seconds, total silence. No one responds. Then someone raises their hand slowly and asks

"What about the stranger in white?"

A few groans, someone tells him to shut up. It's an older man in the community named Norman, a bit of an eccentric. Eventually he yells out over everybody "I saw him! He has horns and he's stealing their souls! I swear it!"

He yells unintelligibly as he gets dragged downstairs and kicked out of the street, a few people look sympathetically at him but most of the crowd is telling him to "Stop wasting our time you old nut!"

Pastor Jeremy smiles wearily and calls out "Any other suggestions?"

Coincidence is a fool's method for explaining away God's plan for a person, of that Colum is positive. He is a long way from California covered in the grime from the road wearing his riding leathers, hungry, tired, and in a sour mood having been caught in two rainstorms just today. The freeway spills out into this quiet suburb and Wrathman's hunger had driven him to the first bar he'd come across: The Owl. Parking his Fat Boy with the front tire out ready to ride, the modern day cowboy had slung his saddlebags over his shoulder and readily proceeded inside.

Wiping the dust from his face with a bandana, Colum drops into a booth and scans the room. Locals and a couple of waitresses, but nothing that stands out to him as needing immediate attention. Shifting his bags closer to the wall, he adjusts his SW1911 so that he won't be obstructed should he need to snatch it from it's holster, and turns back to the room just in time to greet the brunette arriving at his table.

"Welcome to the Owl," she says with a timid smile and points to the far end of the table against the wall. "The menu is there, have you had a chance to look it over?"

"What's good?" Colum raises his eyebrows in question.

"People here like the fish n' chips," resting her weight on her left leg, she juts her hip out and holds her elbow to her hip for support as she prepares to write down his order. "Homemade tartar sauce is tasty."

"Got anything that came from something with hooves?"

"Sure do, sweety," she leans forward, placing her torso directly in front of the biker's eyes as she pulls the menu out from behind the salt and pepper shakers and places it in front of him. "You got the garlic burger, the ketchup burger, and the Swiss burger."

"I'll take the Swiss and a Corona Extra."

"Coming up."

The atmosphere in the bar is decent, but when the meal arrives, Colum decides that the food's nothing amazing. The beer is, as always, Corona, and that pleases the biker. As he eats, a meeting of people gather nearby. What appears to the hunter to be a local pastor of a church has organized a meeting on the rooftop terrace, offering free food, drink and the opportunity to talk about the strange things happening around the neighborhood. The words of those gathering drift to the tired Californian drawing his attention. Strange things, Man in White, and other mentions of behaviors that are obviously concerning people ignite Colum's interest and he grabs his plate, hooks a finger around the neck of his beer, and grabs his saddlebags.

"You all done, sweety?" the brunette returns quickly to his side. "I'll bus that, no need for you to."

"Naw," McRath smiles, showing even white teeth. "Just curious about that." He tilts his leather-wrapped head towards the stairs where another couple of locals begin their ascent.

"Oh," hazel eyes widen a bit and her friendly smile fades. "That's Pastor Jeremy's town hall meeting."

"Am I not allowed?"

"No. I mean, no, you're allowed if you want to go, but it's just to discuss some trouble we're having around here. So, I don't know that it'll interest you, Mister."

"I've nothing else to do," Colum settles his saddlebags on his shoulder once more. "Might be interesting to know what's going on seeing how I'm spending the night at least."

The expression on her slim face is tightly concealed, but the Californian thinks he can see unease beneath her mask as she smiles a thin, pursed lipped affectation and turns an open palm towards the stairs. "Be my guest."

"Mind if I take this?" he lifts the plate with the half-eaten burger on it to indicate what he's referring to and receives a brief shake of the head as permission. Smiling again, he turns and makes his way to the terrace.

Pastor Jeremy is a middle aged Asian man with black hair and glasses. He looks drained, like he hasn't slept in days, as do a number of the other people who have gathered. Colum draws some odd looks as he settles himself at one of the wire crosshatched tables. Raising his beer in response, he then brings it to his lips and takes a sip.

On the rooftop, the moon and stars shine brightly, the sky is clear and a gentle wind flows through the street. Colum counts about 40 to 50 people who have shown up for the meeting. Some of them standing at the back with disinterest, others grabbing as much food and drink as possible, and still some sitting at tables with friends while others are by themselves. Eventually Jeremy gets up to talk.

"Hello Everyone," the pastor states, drawing the attention of those who were mingling. Colum leans back in the hard chair and tilts the beer to his lips again. "I'm glad you could make it. Feel free to eat and drink as much as you'd like. It's on the Church's tab." Some laughter ensues, but the biker feels that even that is weak. Pastor Jeremy smiles weakly and continues.

"Now, as you've all come to know, there's been a few... disasters happening here lately. Bad things." The bespeckled man pauses and the Californian's deep set blue eyes scan the sullen faces of the gathered masses until the pastor's weary voice continues. "But, I've organized this today so that we can put a stop to it. So that we can go out and show these people what they're doing to themselves—to the community!".

He continues his rhetoric for about another minute, his eyes burning with a passionate fire though his body doesn't exude the same energy. "What can we do to fix this?" he practically roars, trying to incite the crowd. A few seconds, total silence. No one responds. Then someone raises their hand slowly and asks, "What about the stranger in white?"

Colum cranes his neck to see who the speaker is as a few groans break the silence that follows. Another voice tells him to shut up, and causes the speaker to turn in dismay and look about the room. It's an older man wearing a cardigan sweater with a Beatles t-shirt on underneath and a worn Blue Jays cap on his head. After a moment of disbelief at the community's response, he yells out over everybody, "I saw him! He has horns and he's stealing their souls! I swear it!"

People jump to their feet and a cacophony of protest erupts. Colum loses sight of the old man until he is hoisted past the biker yelling unintelligibly as he gets dragged downstairs. Watching him pass by, the Californian turns back to the crowd and quietly assesses their mood. A few people watch sympathetically as the crazy man (Colum here's the name Norman more than a few times from those yelling) is hauled off, but most of the crowd is telling him to "Stop wasting our time, you old nut!"

Once the hubbub settles, Pastor Jeremy smiles wearily and calls out, "Any other suggestions?"

Returning his steel-eyed gaze back to his burger, Colum decides he's not as hungry as he'd originally thought. Norman's outburst and claims have chilled his stomach, filling it with ice. Twenty-five hundred miles without anything to remind him of the horrors he'd left behind and now he rides into something that he can't ignore. If others are experiencing anything akin to that which he's had to deal with, well, it's the whole coincidence thing again. It just doesn't exist.

Pulling his cellphone from his leather jacket, the hunter pulls up the messaging app and thumbs in a quick message to Pastor Dominic: Came across something here. Guy claims to have seen a man dressed in white with horns stealing souls. Sound like anything?
Slipping the phone back into his pocket, the tattooed man hooks his beer by the neck again and turns to follow Norman down the stairs. He is determined to locate the old man and hear what he has to say.

Alexander "Castle" Castlebrandt walked towards the Owl bar from where he had parked his car. Someone, it seemed, had started to take notice of all the strange things happening in this city. Usually such things just went unnoticed in the crush of a large city like Toronto. But Makham was a bit of a ‘city within a city' sort of thing. A rash of weird happening would be more noticeable here. And somebody had taken notice.

So had Castle. He had seen - something - himself on one of his rare trips to Markham three days earlier. It was unnerving. It was right after a nasty car accident had happened nearly right in front of him. And the man was there, watching. Castle couldn't help but look at him. But it was when he looked away, when the thing had just been in the periphery of his vision, that he had seen it - the horns, the beast. When he spun around and looked back, it was gone. Both man and beast were gone. He thought he saw it turn a corner a block away, but he when he tried to follow it was gone. He'd actually been a bit relieved by that.

And now he was headed into a bar in Markham to listen to a town hall meeting about strange happenings. The accident had certainly been strange, or at least its aftermath had been. He'd looked up the story in the Toronto Sun the next day - a respected local high school teacher had been drinking and driving at 3 in the afternoon - when he should have been at school teaching English. And so Castle had set aside a set of student essays about "medieval concepts of monarchy as described in Beowulf." The essay was supposed to be about medieval kingship, but all the students ever wanted to talk about was Grendel, the monster. The Danes had certainly had a nasty conception of the creature - the descendant of Cain. His students, of course, always assumed that Beowulf was a work of fiction - at most a way of explaining the dangers of life. But Castle wondered. Things did go bump in the night. Sometimes such things were not the work of fiction, but told dark stories of darker happenings. Every time he read Beowulf he couldn't help but wonder what had actually happened in the great hall of Heorot.

As he walked through the doors of the Owl he wondered if Markham needed its own Beowulf. He knew he was no great warrior, but the starting point was information. So when word of the meeting had reached him from "friends" he had come, drawn by the mystery and the fear of the beast. He had seen something, and he greatly desired to know what. He saw a waitress point a biker up the stairs with an odd look on her face. He knew that face. It was the face of the unbeliever, the skeptic, the person convinced that they were all crazy. That look was why he didn't advertise his ‘side interest' - others at the university would lose respect for him as an academic if he admitted his true interest. But for now, the look pointed the way - there was no need to ask where the town hall meeting about strange happenings was being held. The waitresses face was as good as a neon sign saying, "Ghost busters meeting this way." Castle paused until the waitress had moved off to serve other guests and then moved up the stairs himself.

When he reached the top of the stairs he took in the scene - the biker was off to one side and the rest of the crowd was scattered around, many taking advantage of the free food and drink. Castle was not above doing so himself - ‘assistant professor' sounded better than it paid. So he grabbed himself a Molson and a plate of appetizers and took a seat near the back. He had no interest in drawing attention to himself. His elbow-patched sports coat made him think he was one of the more professional workers there, but that also meant he had the most to lose. He would stay in the background for now. He was here for information, not to speak.

He listened as Pastor Jeremy gave his little speech. There wasn't much there. No information, not yet. And then some guy spoke about the man in white. That caught Castle's attention - it was exactly why he was there. But the response of the crowd was unexpected. The man was shouted down and thrown out. Why? Why didn't the others want to hear about this issue? He noticed that not everyone in the room had the same reaction. Some seemed to feel sympathy for the man. Castle made sure to carefully note the faces that had reacted that way - those might be the ones who had seen what he had seen. They might be worth talking to. He took notes. He also saw with surprise that the biker that had pointed his way up the stairs was following the old man, Norman by name it seemed, down the stairs. Interesting. Bikers were not his normal crowd, but then neither were beasts in white suits sporting horns, so who knew?

But he didn't follow Norman and the biker down the stairs right away. He wanted to know what these people knew. Did they have other theories besides the man in white? Why did they seem to fear that figure? What did those who had reacted sympathetically to Norman have to say? There was much still to be learned in the meeting. He suspected he'd be able to find Norman and the biker later.

Alexander Castlebrandt leaned back against the wall and took another sip of his Molson. The night was off to an interesting start and seemed likely to provide more intrigue. Perhaps a second Molson would help . . .

Colum quietly followed Norman as the jeers and booing stopped down, sending a quick text to Pastor Dominic. A reply came back almost instantly.

A man in white with horns stealing souls? Never heard of that... But I'll check the books. I do know that demons have horns and steal souls but.. they've always been tiny, usually invisible and ugly. Like the classic imp... Lord help me I need coffee, I've been staying up late researching on everything ever since.. Yknow.. I'll get back to you on that.
Norman is walked down the stairs and forcefully thrown to the floor by a pair of angry looking men. One of them even stops and spits at him before heading upstairs. None of the patrons stop to help him though again a few looks of pity.

((I assume you would stop by to help him? if not i'll edit))

You help Norman to his feet and he responds kindly to you.

"Thank you young fellow. I. I really appreciate that.". He sighs for a moment and then says. "Let me get you a drink for your kindness.".

--------------------------------------------------------
Back at the roof of the owl
The few people who spoke suggested useless things, such as drugs, the internet, the devil, They were the cause of this evil. Nothing useful. These people, sitting here, trying to find the solution. When really, they don't even know what truly lies waiting for them in the dark.

You take some time, drinking your beer and you try to listen to any conversation, the whispers that people are too afraid to say out loud.

A conversation between two girls sitting near you.
A blonde girl, young, wearing a cross around her neck saying "I feel bad for him. He's a nut. But he's a sweet old nut.".

Her friend, someone of asian ethnicity with shoulder length black hair says to her.

"Yeah... Well.. I did see the man at the school one day. Then 4 days later the valedictorian went.. yeah.".

"You don't actually believe him do you?"

"No, no.. I mean. It's just weird right.". A shake of the head. "Nevermind, let's just listen.".

Aside from that conversation, it's just the same useless drivel that was said earlier. No one defended Norman, at least not outwardly. Though, you can wonder whether or not others have seen the man in white. And whether they too, are whispering about how he is the cause...

Ignoring the jeering and rude comments being flung after the old fellow and his two escorts, Colum continues on as though his sole purpose is to depart the craziness ensuing on the roof. Truth be told, part of him is doing just that. He's not one for crowds and even more so the type that could erupt into further chaos at a moment's notice. Having sent the text message to Pastor Dominic, the biker is about to slide his phone back into his pocket when he's surprised by an immediate reply. Studying the screen, he frowns and continues descending the steps.


A man in white with horns stealing souls? Never heard of that... But I'll check the books. I do know that demons have horns and steal souls but.. they've always been tiny, usually invisible and ugly. Like the classic imp... Lord help me I need coffee, I've been staying up late researching on everything ever since.. Yknow.. I'll get back to you on that.

Using the thumb of his right hand, Wrathman simply responds with, Thx and proceeds to return his phone to his jacket pocket. Ahead of him, Norman is walked down the stairs and forcefully thrown to the floor by the pair of angry looking men. Colum pauses at the foot of the stairs and leans against the wall watching dispassionately as one of the locals bullying the old man stops and spits at him before turning back to head upstairs. Seeing no one stop to help the old man—though, again, a few looks of pity are thrown his way—the large biker sniffs in disgust as the two men move to begin their ascent to the roof once more.


"And here I thought that you Canadians were supposed to be nice," he rumbles in his deep voice while eyeballing the two men (OOC: Presence check please). "Where I come from, you just don't treat the elderly like that."


Colum's intent is to subdue the anger these men are feeling through intimidation, but then to hopefully turn their emotions into shame by calling them on their rough treatment. Moving past them, he's not shy about making them move to avoid him and his dusty riding leathers.


Stepping up to the frail form on the floor, Colum McRath drops to a crough and holds out a calloused hand, "Here."


"Thank you young fellow. I. I really appreciate that.". Norman sighs for a moment, accepting the offered assistance and pull to his feet before he says, "Let me get you a drink for your kindness."


"Sure," Colum casts another sidelong look up the stairs just to make sure trouble isn't following them and then pats the older fellow on the back. "Never turned down a Corona."


Walking with Norman to the bar, the biker casually scans the room and registers the faces of all that he can for signs of their current dispositions. He doesn't care what people think of him; being a biker his whole life he's heard it all, but if he can make out the difference in a person's demeanor from when they were just judging him versus his association with Norman, that might tell the hunter a great deal.


Bellying up to the bar, the long-haired scruffy man sets his partially consumed Corona Extra on the bar, catches the bartender's attention, and indicates another for himself and one for Norman.


"So, Norman, is it?" he begins casually. "What was that all about?"

Places like the Owl weren't really his scene. He wasn't old enough to drink, after all, and, even if he had been, he wasn't sure that he would. He'd snuck a beer from his dad, once, a couple of years ago, and tried to drink it behind the shed but, after the first two tentative sips, decided that it was bitter and gross and dumped it into the grass. Nah, these days, the only time the kid folks called Haze found himself anywhere near a bar was when he needed cash, a drunk staggering out of a pub was an easy boost of a few bucks. Haze didn't need cash, tonight, though; he'd lifted a pretty fat wallet from some old dude getting off the Hanlan's Point Ferry, this morning, and was pretty well set. There was a flyer in that old dude's wallet, folded up and tucked in with a stack of loonies, that had pointed him here. Some preacher-dude was throwing a town hall thing at the Owl in Markham and there was going to be free food. Cash in pocket or not, free grindage was free grindage, and the cash would last longer if he didn't have to pay for a meal or two.

It had taken a couple of hours to skate to Markham but it wasn't like he had anything better to do with the day. Besides, the scenery was pretty tasty and he'd peeped out a couple of choice places to crash for the night if he didn't feel like skating back to the city, tonight. Once he was in Markham, it had taken another short span of time to find The Owl, he wasn't exactly sure how much more time, though, because he'd broken into what was left of his stash and burnt one off, so he wasn't really paying time much attention. He totally had a mondo case of the munchies by the time he spied the Owl's sign, though, and that free food was sounding super-awesome. A couple of enthusiastic kicks and a cruise brought him to the sidewalk in front of the place where he kicked the board up into his hand and strolled through the door.

Pausing just inside, the kid's green eyes flit around the place from behind a spill of mousey brown hair that had escaped the tuque on his head. He thumbs the hair out of his face and nervously adjusts one strap on his backpack as the eyes of several patrons turn his way, some out of curiosity and others with scarcely veiled suspicion,

"Hey, there, sweety," a kind of pretty, dark-haired lady says, her tone tinged with mild concern, as she comes out from behind the bar, "You looking for somebody?"

Haze offers a crooked grin and shoves a hand into one pocket of the Army Surplus field jacket he wore and came back out with the crumpled flyer announcing Pastor Jeremy's town hall gathering. "Not really," Haze answers almost timidly, holding the flyer out to the lady, "I was kinda hopin' to score some free grub. Been a minute since I ate." He shifts uncomfortably, again, as she takes the flyer from him and looks it over. "It ain't one of those adults only things, is it," he asks quietly, "I mean, I ain't tryin' to scam booze or nothin', I was just hopin' to nosh a burger or somethin' an,"

There was something almost sad about the lady's smile when her eyes let go of the flyer and found their way back to the skinny kid's face. "No, sweety," she says with a shake of her head as she gestures to the staircase, "you go right on up."

"Gnarly! Thanks, lady," Haze grins brightly taking a step towards the stairs before pausing and nodding at the flyer the barmaid still held in her hand, "Um.. Can I get that back? I might be able to use it for somethin' later."

"Sure," she blinks through her still sad smile and offers the flyer back.

Nodding his thanks, Haze shoves the flyer back into his pocket and then makes his way up to the rooftop. There is a pretty decent crowd on the terrace, most of them probably close to twice his age or better, and most of them looking like they were probably locals,

Except for that biker-dude, the kid thinks, trying to keep as quiet and unobtrusive as possible as he slinks toward where the food is laid out, he don't look like he's from anywhere near the burbs.
, "Feel free to eat and drink as much as you'd like. It's on the church's tab." The old Asian dude that was trying to talk over the crowd was probably the preacher that the flyer mentioned.

Hells yeah, Haze grins, already piling a plate full, Dude, I am so gonna crush some chow. Don't you worry! Having loaded the plate with more than it was probably intended to hold, the kid finds his way to a spot on the fringes of the crowd and hungrily digs in, hardly hearing another word of what Pastor Jeremy says, or what anybody else says, for that matter, until,

"What about the stranger in white?"

Dude! Whaaaa'? The kid looks up, then, a couple of French fries poking out from between his lips and a somewhat nervous expression on his face.

There are some decidedly skeptical looks on most of the faces he sees, and few groans and rude remarks rise from the crowd in response to the question. As he absently chews the fries the rest of the way into his mouth, Haze's eyes fix on the old dude in the Blue Jays cap as he gets all determined looking and shouts out over the heckling; "I saw him! He has horns and he's stealing their souls! I swear it!"

Awww, man! The hairs on the back of his neck rose and his shoulders tightened against the sudden sensation that he was being watched, and followed, again. He swallows too hard and the fries go down his throat in a lump that causes him to thump at his chest in an attempt to coax it into his stomach before he chokes on it, No way, no way, dude,
The crowd's volume swells along with Haze's anxiety as a number of them get to their feet and the old dude disappears from his view in the crush. His heart thudding in his chest as cries of "stop wasting our time, you old nut," and the like fill the air, the kid urgently wraps up some of the food left on his plate in some napkins and stuffs it in his pockets before bailing for the stairs. He finds himself getting jostled around, though, as a few folks shove past him, dragging the hysterical old dude in the same direction, and he recoils more than a little nervously, tucking himself into a corner until the mob has finished manhandling the guy down the steps.

"I feel bad for him," he hears someone say, his apprehensive gaze drawn to a blonde girl with a cross around her neck, "He's a nut. But he's a sweet old nut."


"Yeah... Well, I did see the man at the school one day," Her friend says in reply, "Then 4 days later the valedictorian went.. yeah."

No way! Haze is pretty sure he can actually hear his heart thudding through his chest, now. He's pretty sure that, as loud as it is, other people can hear it, too. Nowaynowaynowaynoway! He bounds down the stairs and, at the bottom, nearly trips over Norman and the big biker-dude, in his hurry to escape the conversation on the rooftop.

"Sorry, dude," he hurriedly apologizes, having bounced off the leather clad man as he helped Ol' Norm to his feet, "my bad! Gotta bail!"

By the time he reached the sidewalk in front of the Owl, again, though, his panic had caught up to him like he was sure that black thing that killed his folks was going to. He's knees went all jelly and his stomach lurched, bringing up all the food he'd just powered down into the street. He still wanted to run, of course, but his head was spinning and he couldn't catch his breath without gagging on it, so he allows himself to sink down on the curb as he shrugs out of his backpack. Gasping for breath, he tears the thing open, pulls a length of rebar from its interior, and hugs it to his chest like a security blanket before he hangs his head between his knees and tries to gather his cool.

On The Prowl
by Preston Prowler
link
Thursday
August 28, 2016


For we are not wrestling with flesh and blood [contending only with physical opponents], but against the despotisms, against the powers, against [the master spirits who are] the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spirit forces of wickedness in the heavenly (supernatural) sphere. -- Ephesians 6:12 Amplified Bible


We are in a Spiritual Battle!

Our city streets are littered with the broken lives of the Homeless, Drug Addicts and Prostitutes!

Their numbers seem to grow monthly in the face of deaths and disappearances!

Churches and other civic minded organizations are lending helping hands as they are able!

Even tonight in the Toronto area, Pastor Jeremy of Saint Patrick's has rented out the rooftop terrace at The Owl, a local pub in Markham, that is open to the public to discuss the strange happenings that have been transpiring in recent weeks!

Saint Patrick's is picking up the tab for the food and drink, so any of you concerned citizens in the Toronto area are welcome to attend his town meeting!

There are strange things happening in Toronto!

Perhaps there are strange things happening in your city!

Contact my 'Home Link' below and send me some feedback and possible solutions!

Plus feel free to send me any information about the strange things happening in your city!

Perhaps we can connect the dots for possible solutions!

I usually afford some time and space for comments about the Blue Jays or your favorite MLB baseball team as the Dog Days of Summer are drawing to a close, but that is for another day!

We always allow room for NHL hockey discussions and especially insights and predictions about the Toronto Maple Leafs and my favorite team, the Detroit Red Wings and their 25 Year Playoff Streak possibly being ended this season, but there are more important matters to discuss!

I am cutting this Web Column short today so I can prepare to attend the town meeting that Pastor Jeremy is hosting at The Owl in Markham!

The Homeless, Drug Addicts and Prostitutes Need Our Help!

Something is Not Right on the Streets of Toronto!

Something is Not Right on the Streets of Your City!

We Must Do Our Part to Help!

We are in a Spiritual Battle!

Be Vigilant My Friends!

--- The Prowler

Mt Pleasant
Loaves & Fishes Tabernacle
Noon Service
Thursday
August 25, 2016

"WE ARE IN A SPIRITUAL WAR!"

Preston Prowler bellowed out the message to his flock that had gathered at the Loaves & Fishes Tabernacle to hear the Good Word of God and be served a nutritious hot meal.

"YOU MUST HAVE FAITH IN JESUS!"

"Preach It Pastor Preston!" exclaimed one enthusiastic member of the congregation as others joined in, while Preston Prowler emphasized certain points of the message he was delivering to his congregation, in hopes that their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ would see them through these trying times and inspire them to help others!

"JESUS IS YOUR MIRACLE WORKER!"

His congregation erupted in loud choruses of "Amen" and "Come On" as he proceeded to minister the Word of God to his hungry congregation.

However, there were those in the congregation who could not resist the temptation to scoff and tease Preston Prowler while he preached, playing upon his uncanny resemblance to the actor who portrayed the character Harvey Bulloch on the TV series Gotham, which was also gaining a wider fan base among viewers of Netflix.

Although Preston was taller and more athletically built than Harvey Bulloch, the facial resemblance caused people to immediately think that Preston was actually Harvey Bulloch, or at the very least his twin brother!

Preston had been wearing a fedora and black leather trench coat on the streets of Toronto long before Gotham had ever been aired on TV or Netflix.

But he took it all in stride, signing autographs when stopped on the street, which always included ‘Jesus Loves You' and his Web Column personae 'The Prowler'.

'God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform!' thought Preston as he continued his message to the enthusiastic gathered throng.

"Hey Harvey!"

"Bulloch!"

Preston found it humorous that wherever he went the catcalls followed ... even in the pulpit of the Loaves & Fishes Tabernacle in Mt Pleasant.

"Preach it Pastor Harvey!"

"Amen Brother Bulloch!"

But at least they were attending ... no matter what the reason ... in addition to the free meals.

"Hey Brother Bulloch," shouted another, "Watch Out for that False Prophet Penguin!"

The crowd of one hundred plus men and women roared with laughter, which only inspired Preston to exhort his congregation to study the Bible to have a knowledge of what True Prophecy and False Prophecy actually are in the real world.

After another twenty minutes or so of good natured banter and serious responses to the message being preached by Preston Prowler, the Head Overseer of the Loaves & Fishes Tabernacle concluded his inspiring messages with an altar call:

"Faith is in your heart and in your mouth," declared Preston Prowler in a subdued, but more serious tone of voice. "You must confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus ... and you must believe in your heart that God raised Jesus from the dead ... to receive salvation!

"Jesus died for your sins and shortcomings and stupid mistakes," continued Preston Prowler, "Jesus Loves You and Wants You to Ask Him into Your Hearts Right Now!

"If you want to become a Born Again Christian"" concluded Preston Prowler, "then repeat this simple prayer with me to become a New Creature in Christ Jesus:

"Hello God

"Please be my Heavenly Father

"I believe Jesus Christ is Your Son

"Please change my life Lord Jesus

"Lord Jesus please live in my heart

"Please make me clean from sin Lord Jesus

"Help me to be a better person Lord Jesus

"Help me Lord Jesus to understand Your Bible

"Thank You Lord Jesus for living in my heart

"Thank You Lord Jesus for cleaning me from sin

"Thank You Lord Jesus for helping me to be a better person

"Thank You Lord Jesus for helping me to understand Your Bible

"Thank You Lord Jesus for protecting me

"Thank You Lord Jesus for Your Angels

"Thank You Lord Jesus for Your Holy Spirit

"Thank You Lord Jesus for changing my life

"Thank You Lord Jesus that God is now my Heavenly Father!"

After Preston concluded his prayer, he stepped down from the pulpit and invited anyone who wanted prayer to please come forward. He spent another twenty to thirty minutes praying for every person who had come forward for prayer.

By this time, the afternoon meal was fully prepared and the congregation slowly made their way to the reception hall to partake of hot vegetable soup, ham and cheese sandwiches, or grilled cheese without the ham, plus an assortment of cakes, cookies and pies that had been donated to help feed those who were hungry and down on their luck, so to speak.

Lemonade, iced tea, coffee and water was also in ample supply and no one was turned away or told that they had eaten more than their share or had drank too much.

Preston casually visited with those feasting in the reception hall, good naturedly joking with them about the latest episode of Gotham and why he as Harvey Bulloch had done what he had done in the TV Series, agreeing that Harvey probably needed some prayer for his actions.

[Time Jump]

After making sure that every person had been attended to and taking prayer requests, Preston retired to his office for an hour of reflection.

What was most troubling was that several members of his congregation had voiced concerns that friends they had known on the streets for weeks, months and even years had mysteriously disappeared without any clues as to what had happened to them!

Preston spent some time in prayer and meditation in some Bible Scriptures, before meeting with some of his staff members, making sure that the upcoming schedule of speakers that included Bible students and aspiring ministers was set in order, making sure there were alternate speakers in place, in case someone was unable to fulfill their scheduled time of preaching or teaching.

The Loaves & Fishes Tabernacle had services 3 times a day, 7 days a week: at 7am, noon and 6pm, followed by a generous nutritious meal, whether it be breakfast, lunch or dinner.

Meals were supplied by generous donors and the ‘deep pockets' of Preston Prowler himself, who had set aside a fund from his remaining lottery winnings gained during his college days.

Satisfied that things were in order, Preston Prowler grabbed his favorite fedora and black trench coat, before heading to his car to make the drive to The Owl, a local pub in Markham, to hear what Pastor Jeremy and the other Town Hall attendees had to say about the mysterious goings ons that had blanketed the streets of Toronto like a plague.

Due to the numerous cat calls and shouts in public of "Hey Harvey!" and "Bulloch!", Preston Prowler had employed his favorite tailor to stitch the Winged Wheel Logo of the Detroit Red Wings on the right side of his fedora, plus the Hockey Town Logo on the left side, but people still mistook the Loaves & Fishes Tabernacle Pastor and Web Columnist for Harvey Bulloch.

In response, Preston had purchased a used Ford Crown Victoria Police Car to ride around town, sort of like a celebrity who enjoyed playing to the crowds of admirers who 'recognized' him.

The Owl
A Local Pub in Markham
Town Hall Meeting
Thursday Night
August 25, 2016

Preston Prowler made his way to the meeting on the rooftop of The Owl, pausing only to sign a few autographs and exchange some friendly banter in regards to his uncanny resemblance to the Gotham TV character Harvey Bulloch.

Helping himself to a hearty helping of free food, piling his plate high so he would not have to make a second trip, intending to focus on the gathered throng and their responses, he seated himself near the front at a table facing to the far left of where Pastor Jeremy would be speaking.

Pastor Jeremy is a middle aged Asian man with black hair and glasses, he's a kind man but a bit zealous about his faith, having to be told to "turn it down a notch" occasionally. Tonight though, he does not look like himself. He looks drained, like he hasn't slept in days.

On the rooftop, the moon and stars shine brightly, the sky is clear and a gentle wind flows through the street. About 40 to 50 people have showed up, some of them standing at the back with disinterest, others grabbing as much food and drink as possible, some are sitting at tables with friends, some are by themselves.

Eventually Jeremy gets up to talk.
"Hello Everyone. I'm glad you could make it. Feel free to eat and drink as much as you'd like. It's on the churchs tab." Some laughter. He smiles weakly. "Now as you've all come to know, there's been a few... disasters happening here lately. Bad things.". A brief pause. A school getting shot up by the valedictorian. A faithful law abiding church goer robbing a bank. Professors losing themselves to drugs. Homeless people disappearing, only to wind up dead somewhere in an alleyway. So many people, good people, becoming alcoholics lately. These thoughts flood everyone's mind.

He continues "But I've organized this today so that we can put a stop to it. So that we can go out and show these people what they're doing to themselves, to the community!". He goes on for about another minute, his eyes burning with a passionate fire, even as his body looks like it's like crap.

"What can we do to fix this?" he practically roars, trying to incite the crowd. A few seconds, total silence. No one responds. Then someone raises their hand slowly and asks

"What about the stranger in white?"

A few groans, someone tells him to shut up. It's an older man in the community named Norman, a bit of an eccentric. Eventually he yells out over everybody "I saw him! He has horns and he's stealing their souls! I swear it!"

He yells unintelligibly as he gets dragged downstairs and kicked out of the street, a few people look sympathetically at him but most of the crowd is telling him to "Stop wasting our time you old nut!"

Pastor Jeremy smiles wearily and calls out "Any other suggestions?"

Preston Prowler took another sip of the iced tea, before refilling his glass from the nearby pitcher, before standing to his feet to address the crowd.

"My Good Friends! What if what Norman says is True? I suggest we consider All Possibilities! Plus it would be beneficial to spend some time Fasting and Praying about these unsettling situations! I will suggest that the members of my congregation at the Loaves & Fishes Tabernacle in Mt Pleasant begin a Prayer Chain and spend the next few days Fasting and Praying as they are led of the Lord. What about your congregation Pastor Jeremy?"

Alexander Castlebrandt sat and watched as the event in the Owl unfolded around him. He watched as Norman was removed. He watched as some people reacted to his removal and others didn't. He watched as a young kid wolfed down a plate of food and then went positively white at the mention of the man in white. (Now, that was interesting.) And now he watched as a preacher started to talk about prayer chains.

He sighed inwardly. These types of meetings brought out all sorts - from professional ghost hunters to adrenaline junkies to anything in between. His interest was both personal and academic. There probably was a bit of the personal for everyone else here as well, which explained the strong reaction to comments like Normans. As for the minister, Castle preferred it when someone other than a churchman took the lead. It wasn't that he didn't believe, he had seen enough to be very wary about expressing disbelief, but he wasn't quite sure what he believed in. No single creed had yet flung objects at his head like, well, like something else had. And he knew he doubted the ability of a prayer chain, whatever exactly that was, to solve the problem.

He was tempted to get up and follow Norman. If the meeting turned into a prayer meeting he'd do just that. But for now he stayed to see what would happen. Besides, he wanted to talk to a few of the people who had shown empathy for Norman. He wanted to know what they had seen. He suspected he could find the biker and Norman later if he needed to do so. He did hate to lose the kid, who he suspected he might never see again . . .

(Castle will try to seek out some of the sympathetic types - most likely the young people talking about the high school - in quiet corners when things settle down. He would ask about the valedictorian.)

In the owl, second floor Norman buys whatever drink you want and a strong liquor for himself. His eyes are wild and you can tell hes just happy someone wants to listen to him. His voice lowers to a whisper, so that you have to lean in to listen to him.


"What do you want to know? I think hes the devil, come here to take our souls. Giving us lies and temptation so that we give in to our vices, otherwise righteous men damn themselves with drink, drugs and woman. I don't know what they want with us, maybe to drag us to hell but they're here. Trying to take us, trying to steal us from God."


He stops for a moment and looks at you warily. "You believe me right?"


---------------------------------------------------------------
in the alleyway of the owl Haze was there, trembling, as memories from his past surged up and threatened to overtake him. He held a piece of rebar, something that could be used to seriously hurt someone, tightly to his chest like a security blanket. No one else was around to witness that and (I assume) Haze was grateful for that.


----------------------------------------------------------------------
On the rooftop patio of the owl

((OOC, I rolled really well, 2 successes))

Pastor Preston, the Harvey lookalike, got to his feet, walking in front with Pastor Jeremy and he spoke to the crowd much like how he preaches. His voice emphatic, his hands gesturing as he speaks to them:

"My Good Friends! What if what Norman says is True? I suggest we consider All Possibilities! Plus it would be beneficial to spend some time Fasting and Praying about these unsettling situations! I will suggest that the members of my congregation at the Loaves & Fishes Tabernacle in Mt Pleasant begin a Prayer Chain and spend the next few days Fasting and Praying as they are led of the Lord. What about your congregation Pastor Jeremy?"


It is plain to see that most people are uncomfortable at the idea of this man being true. But regardless, people are nodding and there's a general consensus. "Perhaps we should consider all the possibilities.".

As Preston offers a prayer chain to Pastor Jeremy, he blinks a bit confused and then smiles, offering his hand to Preston in a sign of camaraderie.


((Assuming he shakes his hand))

"I didn't realize you were here Pastor Preston. We would love to organize something between our two organizations as a sign of faith in these trying times. More information will be dealt out at the church! For now, let's try to address some of those concerns.". Another smile to Preston as he looks to the crowd for any suggestions

Someone raises their hand, a woman with black hair and a cross on her neck. She looks extremely nervous and flustered as she says "Well.. The man in white could be a dealer.. I have seen him. Just. Well. Obviously not without the horns!". She chuckles nervously.




---------------------------------------------------------------
Alexander was sitting unobtrusively as he watched the events that happened around him. Since the new pastor seemed to convince the crowd that they should keep all the possibilities open, Alexander can see that there are others that are talking about this so called stranger in white.

The high schoolers seem to be talking among themselves quietly, at the mention of the possibility of the man in white. Going towards them, he asks them about the valedictorian

((OOC: your question))


"Melissa? She was really nice. She wasn't really valedictorian, not yet at least but, she was boudn to be. Everyone thought she was sweet and loved her. But.. I mean. Well". Their voices lower as the two of them tell you

"We saw him. The man in white. He shook hands with melissa and we were confused y'know but. He was somebody's parent or something and she was so friendly. She must've been given drugs or something. About a month later, her grades dropped, she was acting weird. Then she was about to fail a huuuge project and left. Then the next day,". One of them shakes their head, biting their lip and closing their eyes. The other girl finishes. "She came and shot the teacher and 3 students. Then herself.".

((EDIT: Changed pastor Jeremy to Pastor Preston))

The Owl
A Local Pub in Markham
Town Hall Meeting
Thursday Night
August 25, 2016

Preston Prowler shook hands with Pastor Jeremy as a sign of good faith.

"I didn't realize you were here Pastor Preston. We would love to organize something between our two organizations as a sign of faith in these trying times. More information will be dealt out at the church! For now, let's try to address some of those concerns.". Another smile to Preston as he looks to the crowd for any suggestions


Someone raises their hand, a woman with black hair and a cross on her neck. She looks extremely nervous and flustered as she says "Well.. The man in white could be a dealer.. I have seen him. Just. Well. Obviously not without the horns!". She chuckles nervously.

Preston Prowler stepped forward once more and waited for the crowd to quiet down.:

"I will start a Prayer Chain with the Members of my Loaves & Fishes Tabernacle," began Pastor Preston with a calm assurance. "We will concentrate our Prayers specifically for the situation involving this 'Man in White' and Pastor Jeremy can have his Congregation to Pray for the solutions to the other matters that have arisen."

((OOC: Assuming Pastor Jeremy agrees))

"Now if any of you have any specific or general information to confide with me in regards to this 'Man in White'," continues Preston, "then please see me at my table and share any rumors, sightings or other insight you may have regarding this 'Man in White' and I will compile the information to share with my Prayer Chain.

"Thank You," says Preston who extends both arms towards Pastor Jeremy, before taking his seat with a polite nod, saying, "Pastor Jeremy, I have nothing further to say, other than to please forward all reports regarding the 'Man in White' to my office."

((OOC: Preston Prowler is hoping to gather all the information he can regarding the 'Man in White' for not only his Prayer Chain, but also for his own Private Study to Analyze and Investigate!))

Alexander Castlebrandt listened as the two girls spoke about the supposed valedictorian of the local school. "She shook hands with him? Did you ever see him around other than that last time? Did anyone actually see her use drugs?" He doubted that they would have much more to add as they seemed to have already offered everything up, but it couldn't hurt to ask. "Have you seen him anywhere since?"

When the young ladies seemed to have offered all they had to offer he added, "I'm sorry for the losses your school has suffered. I saw the accident that took one of your teachers. It is a lot for one community to suffer. Maybe at some point we can figure out the truth, whatever it might be." With that he moved on to other groups.

He had seen others reacting to the comments about the man in white. He gradually moved around the room as unobtrusively as possible and spoke with anyone who seemed to have had some contact. This included the woman who had spoken, but others as well. He tried to find details - how recently had he been seen? Where? How much before any given tragedy had the contact occurred? What sort of contact? How had their behavior changed? Did there seem to be more than one contact with the man?

He tried not to have tunnel vision - he had come here with suspicions about the man in white, but did he really know it was all about him? So he also kept his ears open for other possible theories. And were there any tragedies that didn't seem to have any connection to the man in white? Was there any other common theme?

At this point it was really about gathering information - about the man in white and about the others at the meeting.

(OOC: Basically, Castle is just gathering information based on the questions above. He is mingling as best he can. If the biker or the kid return he would make sure to speak with them - both had reacted to mention of the man in white. At this point he doesn't really know what to do other than gather information. If things wind down here with no further information, he would go home and try to do research on anything resembling the man in white. He would also probably look up the two pastors and their respective churches. Castle is not a very religious man.)

Stepping up to the frail form on the floor, Colum McRath drops to a crough and holds out a calloused hand, "Here."

"Thank you young fellow. I—I really appreciate that." Norman sighs and accepts the offered assistance, rising to his feet before he adds, "Let me get you a drink for your kindness."

"Sure," Colum casts another sidelong look up the stairs just to make sure trouble isn't following them and then pats the older fellow on the back. "Never turned down a Corona."

No way! Haze is pretty sure he can actually hear his heart thudding through his chest, now. He's pretty sure that, as loud as it is, other people can hear it, too. Nowaynowaynowaynoway! He bounds down the stairs and, at the bottom, nearly trips over Norman and the big biker-dude, in his hurry to escape the conversation on the rooftop.

"Sorry, dude," he hurriedly apologizes, having bounced off the leather clad man as he helped Ol' Norm to his feet, "my bad! Gotta bail!"

Frowning and protectively barring the young man's progress should it be directly through or over Norman, the long-haired nomad eyes the retreating skater with more than a little suspicion. Walking with Norman to the bar, the biker casually scans the room and registers the faces of all that he can for signs of their current dispositions while he checks his pockets for anything missing. Having grown up in L.A. he's very cautious of pickpockets, scammers, and thugs; he doesn't care what people think of him—being a biker his whole life he's heard it all, but if he can make out the difference in a person's demeanor from when they were just judging him versus his association with Norman, that might tell the hunter a great deal.

Bellying up to the bar, the long-haired scruffy man sets his partially consumed Corona Extra on the bar, catches the bartender's attention, and indicates another for himself and one for Norman.

"So, Norman, is it?" he begins casually. "What was that all about?"

"Hey Misty," Norman huffs as he settles in. When the bartender looks their way, the older man continues, "Make that a Whiskey, hard, for me."

Colum notices that Norman's eyes are wild as the older man turns his attention upon him. He looks like he's just happy someone wants to listen to him. the roaming hunter observes. Norman's voice lowers to a whisper, so that Colum finds himself leaning in to properly hear over the jukebox ruckus.

"What do you want to know?"

"What's this with the Man in White and why'd the group go all Hulk on you up there?" If Norman was going to be to the point, Colum doesn't see any problem returning the favor.

"I think he's the devil come here to take our souls. Giving us lies and temptation so that we give in to our vices." Aged eyes widen. "Otherwise righteous men damn themselves with drink, drugs, and women. I don't know what they wants with us—maybe to drag us to Hell—but they're here; trying to take us, trying to steal us from God."

He stops for a moment and looks at the dusty traveler warily, "You believe me right?"

Affecting a sympathetic look on his rugged face, McRath tilts his head to the side and replies in a low, deep rumble, "I don't not believe you. If you say you saw it, well, then you seen it.

"But, Norman," turning so that he can rest his elbows on the bartop, he draws the beer to his lips and takes a quick swig. "You said there was this Man in White and then you start referring to ‘They' like there's a group of them. There more than one, man?"

(OOC: Norman's answer.)

"I see." Resolving another swig, Colum studies a particularly fine-looking waitress bussing a table. "And why do you suppose the crowd up there wasn't exactly eager to discuss this fellow—this country gent walking around in a white suit?"

(OOC: Norman's answer.)

"Not very neighborly, if you ask me." Grinning, the biker glances at his conversation companion and jokes, "I thought all you Canadians were supposed to be fine apologetic people."

(OOC: Norman's response.)

Downing the remainder of his original beer, the biker turns just enough to set the bottle on the scarred wood surface of the bar and pick up the new bottle that Misty had dropped off. "Where've you seen this Man in White devil, Norman? I want to steer clear of trouble and if the Devil's in town I can assure you that I don't want to meet him."

(OOC: Norman's answer.)

"I appreciate it," hoisting the beer, the biker offers a salute before taking a swig. "Anything else you think I should know about? Just rolled into town and was thinking of sticking around for a bit, maybe pick up an odd job or two, ya know?"

(OOC: Norman's answer.)

"You've been a scholar and a gentleman, Norman," Colum sincerely offers. "You gonna be all right? Can I escort ya home, call you a cab, anything?"

(OOC: Norman's answer.)

The Owl
A Local Pub in Markham
Town Hall Meeting
Thursday Night
August 25, 2016

Preston Prowler shook hands with Pastor Jeremy as a sign of good faith.

"I didn't realize you were here Pastor Preston. We would love to organize something between our two organizations as a sign of faith in these trying times. More information will be dealt out at the church! For now, let's try to address some of those concerns.". Another smile to Preston as he looks to the crowd for any suggestions


Someone raises their hand, a woman with black hair and a cross on her neck. She looks extremely nervous and flustered as she says "Well.. The man in white could be a dealer.. I have seen him. Just. Well. Obviously not without the horns!". She chuckles nervously.

Preston Prowler stepped forward once more and waited for the crowd to quiet down.:

"I will start a Prayer Chain with the Members of my Loaves & Fishes Tabernacle," began Pastor Preston with a calm assurance. "We will concentrate our Prayers specifically for the situation involving this 'Man in White' and Pastor Jeremy can have his Congregation to Pray for the solutions to the other matters that have arisen."

Pastor Jeremy nods "Thank you so kindly Pastor Preston. We are truly blessed to have a leader such as you in our community. At the end of our next mass, we'll be sure to let everyone know about the prayer chain.". His face drops slightly at the mention of the man in white but he appears to humour you. "We will be sure to pray about the "man in white" a half suppressed scoff from Pastor Jeremy .

"Now if any of you have any specific or general information to confide with me in regards to this 'Man in White'," continues Preston, "then please see me at my table and share any rumors, sightings or other insight you may have regarding this 'Man in White' and I will compile the information to share with my Prayer Chain.

"Thank You," says Preston who extends both arms towards Pastor Jeremy, before taking his seat with a polite nod, saying, "Pastor Jeremy, I have nothing further to say, other than to please forward all reports regarding the 'Man in White' to my office."

((OOC: Preston Prowler is hoping to gather all the information he can regarding the 'Man in White' for not only his Prayer Chain, but also for his own Private Study to Analyze and Investigate!))

People flood up to Pastor Prestons' table, some laughing and calling you pastor bullock and just happy to interact with you. Some ask for prayers concerning family and some come up to you with worries concerning their relative falling into sin. Only a handful of people actually come up to talk about the man in white, and they speak in whispers. A concerned secretary at a highschool informs you of the man in white lurking around and the tragedy that occurred. Others have theories that it's the devil sent to lead those into sin. Another has the theory that he steals someones soul and thats why the start to sin.

Eventually, the information turns more and more useless as people begin to drink more and then the Pastor notices an envelope entitled "For your eyes only. Pastor Preston. -L

Alexander Castlebrandt
Alexander Castlebrandt listened as the two girls spoke about the supposed valedictorian of the local school. "She shook hands with him? Did you ever see him around other than that last time? Did anyone actually see her use drugs?" He doubted that they would have much more to add as they seemed to have already offered everything up, but it couldn't hurt to ask. "Have you seen him anywhere since?"

"Yep. It was weird. She shook hands with him and we thought that it was a relative or something that embarrassed her so we didn't say anything to her.". A shake of the head to mose of your questions . "Well, I mean I guess I saw the man at the school again. The day after she y'know, I tried to follow him, ask him how she knew her but he turned the corner and he was gone.".

When the young ladies seemed to have offered all they had to offer he added, "I'm sorry for the losses your school has suffered. I saw the accident that took one of your teachers. It is a lot for one community to suffer. Maybe at some point we can figure out the truth, whatever it might be." With that he moved on to other groups.

((I rolled well, wits + investigation 2 successes))

Taking another drink casually, Castlebrandt observes everyone moving throughout the bar, listening for anything out of the ordinary, attempting to get any information that he possibly could. He talks and learns about other man in white sightings, other locations of where he is ((same info as above)). You also note that pastor preston is taking an extreme interest in the man in white.

Eventually he catches the sight of someone moving along the bar, unnoticed by everyone. It's a figure that stands about 6 feet tall, covered from head to toe in clothing. A ragged trench coat, a hat and a scarf prevent him from learning anything about the cloaked figure. It's difficult to keep track of him, he disappears from view until he really focuses and keeps all of his attention on the figure. It's strange but no one looks him in the eye, people appear to move out of his way but they don't notice him at all. Eventually he slips an envelope onto Pastor Preston's table and then moves out of the way, nobody noticing a thing. Except Castlebrandt.
((OOC: do you try to keep staring cause then he'll notice))

Meanwhile McRath and Norman have a conversation where he tells everything he possibly can remember about the man in white.

"But, Norman," turning so that he can rest his elbows on the bartop, he draws the beer to his lips and takes a quick swig. "You said there was this Man in White and then you start referring to ‘They' like there's a group of them. There more than one, man?"

"I, I don't know. There has to be more than one of them. There's no way one of, those things could be spreading this much mayhem. I, I haven't seen more of them though, Just the one.". His shoulders drop slightly
"I see." Resolving another swig, Colum studies a particularly fine-looking waitress bussing a table. "And why do you suppose the crowd up there wasn't exactly eager to discuss this fellow—this country gent walking around in a white suit?"

"They're afraid! Afraid of seeing the truth. The devil sits on their doorstep and they refuse to do anything about it! Call me crazy, They're the crazy ones for not seeing! His breathing starts getting heavy as he says this very heatedly in a low voice.

"Not very neighborly, if you ask me." Grinning, the biker glances at his conversation companion and jokes, "I thought all you Canadians were supposed to be fine apologetic people."

He pauses and then lets out a soft chuckle. "Well.. We were better than this but.. This whole thing has got us scared. If you stick around, I can show you some of our canadian hospitality" A very toothy grin
Downing the remainder of his original beer, the biker turns just enough to set the bottle on the scarred wood surface of the bar and pick up the new bottle that Misty had dropped off. "Where've you seen this Man in White devil, Norman? I want to steer clear of trouble and if the Devil's in town I can assure you that I don't want to meet him."

"Well.. They say he is all around town. Strip clubs, casinos, bars, schools. I've heard of sightings everywhere! But some of those came from kids so I don't know how trustworthy they are..".

"I appreciate it," hoisting the beer, the biker offers a salute before taking a swig. "Anything else you think I should know about? Just rolled into town and was thinking of sticking around for a bit, maybe pick up an odd job or two, ya know?"

He pauses for a moment and then says "well you picked a bad time to roll into town then. I might be able to scrounge up a place for you if you're looking for a cheap place to stay. I'm in construction.. I might be a bit old but I sure as hell can still help out!

"You've been a scholar and a gentleman, Norman," Colum sincerely offers. "You gonna be all right? Can I escort ya home, call you a cab, anything?"

He gives Colum a very happy grin and says "I think I'm gonna be fine. Thank you so much for listening to me. I feel better knowing that you're around.

Castle listened to the girls talk for a bit. There wasn't much new to their story except, perhaps, the bit about the man in white returning later. It made it all seem a bit more likely that he was involved in some way. And a bit more likely that he was real. Well, Castle actually knew he was real from personal experience - he had seen the thing himself. But continued sightings at points of interest was, well, a point of interest. He thanked the girls and moved on hearing much the same story over and over again.

As he took another drink and continued looking around a strange sight caught his eye. A cloaked individual moved through the crowd as if invisible. In fact, even noticing him, Castle could barely keep an eye on him. His eye kept losing focus and sliding off of him. He searched for details - height, weight, gender, clothing - anything to keep his focus on the man. He hated staring. His preference had always been to stay in the shadows, to study things quietly and to keep his interest a secret. But this, what was this? What could walk amongst them and remain unseen? What could keep the eye from lingering in such a fashion?

He desperately wanted to keep his eye on this thing. What was it? He wanted to know. But he also did not wish to draw attention to himself. There was a lifetime of habit in that trait. Staring would be certain to draw its attention. Besides, whatever it was, it had already left some clue with the pastor. Perhaps he need to not completely give himself away.

And so he did not stare.

But he didn't give up on his hunt either. He moved towards the stairs. He tried to glance towards the figure to keep a general sense of its position, knowing this was likely futile, but trying anyway. But he worked on trying to get to the stairs ahead of it - there was nowhere else it was likely to go. And as he approached the stairs he held a position and watched as intently as he could. He knew what he was looking for. He had seen him before - the cloak, the scarf - if anyone could find the thing again, it would be him.

(OOC: As noted, Alexander will NOT stare right away, but attempt to do so in a more quiet way by cutting him off at the stairs. At that point, if he can he will try to see if there is more to see. (Probably not) If he doesn't feel directly threatened he will speak to him before he leaves saying simply "who are you?" If he can not catch him again, or he feels directly threatened in some way he will say nothing. Afterwards he would approach Father Preston after the others have gone to speak quietly and privately about the letter, although I suspect that will require a second posting.)