Being a Fashion Victim doesn't do anything for your resume. The rest of the Media casually treats you and your 'friends' as handy flunkies, scapegoats and punching bags, figuring (accurately) that you don't have the contacts or energy to do anything about it. And as for complaining to Nybbas... go right ahead. The Prince of the Media likes it when idiots make themselves obvious: it helps to improve the breed.

However, every so often you get a Victim who isn't part of the regular mold. The current example is Becky Sue, a Lilim who loved the 1950s solely because the clothes looked good on her. When the fashions changed, she gravitated to the Victims as part of a subtle, cunning plan. That's what she says, at least. Waiting for just the right psychological moment to spring a revival was difficult, especially when that mini-fad of a decade or so back was going on.

It was too early, though: Becky Sue didn't have her ducks all in a row yet. She does now. Thanks to the judicious accumulation of Geas/1 and/2s, Becky has a startlingly large number of holds on a large cross-section of Hollywood stars (mostly gathered when they weren't, and in the habit of tormenting a certain intern/flunky/groupie/whatever). Now, the Media's pretty careful to not let random Lilim get their hands on hot properties, but can you do with a lower level Geas, anyway?

You can make it hard to refuse a party invite, that's what. Becky Sue has set up a typical Hollywood bloated extravaganza party. The theme is the 1950s,and everybody's stuck wearing the clothes, listening to the music and dancing the dances. Supermodels with beehives, leading men with pompadours, the whole nine yards. It should have an interesting effect on popular culture, especially since, thanks to the Geas, she's got an impressive guest list. These things skyrocket on their own, of course: once a few get 'invited', everyone else who's somebody (or thinks they are) will do anything to get on the list. Becky's actually collecting Geas for this thing by now, something she finds highly ironic - and useful. When it's all over, she'll have a name as a player, and will be able to use it to get a real job in the Media (and dump her fellow Victims in the progress. The clothes don't look that good on her).

Good plan, but just a couple of wrinkles. First, there's a really annoyed Baron out there who isn't happy that his little showcase event has just been upstaged. Nybbas finds the whole thing amusing, so he can't just kill her, but he can pick up a phone to his favorite Lilim and trade in one of the favors she owes him for the name and contact info for a roving pack of Magpies. Said Magpies really liked the idea of crashing a party full of rich people with rich stuff and generally acting like a bunch of 1950s bikers from 1950s B-grade biker movies. They've even took the time to get the bikes, appropriate cool leather jackets (with the name 'Just Hell's' stitched on the back in red silk, naturally), and grow sideburns.

The rumble should make for great film, especially since the Magpies have been told to not kill anybody. Take everything that moves, rack up the property damage, Charm the living Hell out of appropriate film stars and whisk them away to torrid (and career-enhancing) trysts... but don't kill them. The Fashion Victims will have their hands full. Not to mention any loyal Servitors of the Media around drafted to see off these hoodlums.

But that's not the really funny part. Unfortunately, nobody's considered the fact that, since the events of the False Trumpet, LA isn't quite a demon-only city anymore. The angel slated to host the next gathering at the Eighth Virtue wants to demonstrate this, fairly clearly. He's already got the bar chosen... six blocks from Becky Sue's party.

Guess what night all the Malakim are flying in?