Mayor of Samhain
A Metallic Abstraction
OOC and Character Creation
April 26th, 2012 (2:20 PM)
"So that's the deal then eh?" The sour man that was Henry Beltane asked of their prospective employer, Mr. Gregory Thomson. "We stay the night in your haunted apartment and then what? You pay us? Sounds like a sweet gig. Or is there something else there Greggy?" Henry had mostly not been in tune to the conversation that had surrounded him in The Flying Dachshund but stirred himself to attention when he noticed it was coming to a close.
Gregory Thomson, a young financial consultant who had managed to make it big in the business world, but seemed lacking in other areas, put his head down as he realized that Henry did not take him too seriously. "You'll do it won't you?"
"If the pay's decent, I'll do most anything." Henry shrugged and took another sip of his beer from the plastic cup he was holding.
"Well... I want you to try to record anything weird that might happen... so I can have proof.." Gregory continued, "I could provide the cameras if you don't have any.."
"You do that." Henry smiled, "We'll go ahead and set ourselves up in your apartment until you get back. You got the keys to the place?"
Gregory silently pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to Henry.
"Find out what's going on... please..." Gregory got up and began to leave.
"Oh don't worry, I'm sure we'll find yer ghosty" Henry called after the man, chuckling to himself as Gregory left the small restaurant.
"What a sap." Henry laughed as Mr. Thomson walked in the opposite direction to go find a camera for the crew to take videos on.
Last edited by aurorastorm; 10-23-2013 at 09:59 PM.
Transmundane – Discerned
"I assure you, we'll handle your problem professionally and discretely." Ever the diplomat, Chester Duvall patted Gregory on the back, reassuring him as they parted ways. He turned to follow Henry, first catching up to the other members of the Beltane Family. Harold Millions tapped away on his phone, only peripherally aware of the sidewalk. Meanwhile, Frederick Marshal vacillated between deep thought and wariness of his surroundings, his hand subconsciously gesturing a ward from the evil eye.
"So that was easy." Harold did not look up from his phone. "Why was it that all of us needed to be here? Kind of incriminating, yeah?"
"You saw that New World Orchard building, didn't you? Mr. Thomson lives there. He's a high-profile client, and he's in desperate need of some peace of mind."
"He's hella bank, and he's mad crazy."
Chester narrowed his eyes at Harold. "See, I could've sworn that yesterday you said 'mad crazy' was a good thing."
"Would you just shut the fuck up?!" Marshal snapped. "If you don't cut the shit and let me figure this out, we'll be trying to collect this check posthumously." He was met by a moment of silence. "Now, really this comes down to whether the described phenomena occurred within reality or within his mind. If it's the former, it's almost definitely the breach of a demonic entity, and it's Columbia all over again. On the other hand, he could be experiencing waking nightmares due to a Voodoo curse..."
Harold shook his head. "I can't believe we finally got a job that lets you pass that Scooby-Doo talk off as real."
"Don't use me in the same damn sentence as Scooby-fuckin'-Doo! That shit has embedded so many inaccuracies about the occult into pop culture that I-"
"Scooby-Doo, inaccurate? No way."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
"Gentlemen, please." Chester massaged his forehead. "I don't need a whole night of this. Seriously though, Henry, I don't know how you find these jobs. He didn't say that you saved him, did he?"
Mayor of Samhain
Henry chuckled as he and the others entered the New World Orchard building "Wise man once said that you should keep some secrets close. Wiser man once said that if you're rich and paranoid you shouldn't stand so close to train-tracks."
Henry glanced back toward the other men and gave them a smile with the slightest hint of glint in his eyes. It was a look Henry got when he was thinking of something illegal he had done and gotten away with or was still planning to do.
"I may have 'helped' him to realize that his life was in danger, but really it's nothing the guy wouldn't have figured out on his own. He would've kept on getting into bad situations and eventually come to find us anyways, I just gave him a bit of a push in the right direction." Henry pressed the button on the elevator that took them all up to the 7th floor of the NWO building, where the men filed out and made their way to apartment 309
Unlocking the door, Henry walked into the massive living room and beamed, it seemed like he was about to cry from the apartment. The entire room was coated in hardwood floor with impeccable white dry-wall lining the angular design of the apartment. Henry looked left and right and was ecstatic that he could not see the bedroom from the living room. Immediately he turned into the sizeable kitchen nook that around a corner to the left of the entrance. He walked through it and examined the black marble tables, the stainless steel, highly polished utensils and the well-stocked cabinets. Were Henry a singing man, he may have found song a helpful medium to express his joy at the wealth this apartment spoke of, but Henry was not a singing man. Instead he merely continued to walk around in a daze, noting the paintings from artists he had known in Winter District who had managed to climb up into those higher echelons of the Samhain art community. Many of the paintings that Thomson owned were originals that Henry remembered seeing in art shows at the University and a wave of nostalgia swept over him.
Henry uneasily walked over to the couch which inhabited the middle of the living room, the sensation of wealth too much for him to bear. He sat down heavily on the couch that decompressed under him and he smiled.
"Boys, we're home." he called out to the other Family members.
Transmundane – Discerned
The Family's temporary headquarters was stunning enough to draw Harold's attention for a moment. "Sweet digs." He went back to his phone.
Chester got a glance inside before being shoved into the door frame. Marshal strode briskly into the apartment, sweeping it with a determined gaze. "At least two wide angles of each room, one high and one low. The cameras should be able to see each other in case of interference. If Thompson skimps on us, we prioritize the beds and the couches, wherever people are sleeping."
"Serious? Man, I knew you were into some weird shit, but watching us while we sleep..."
"If a supernatural entity manifests in the same room as you, you're going to want to know. Now, we'll have someone monitoring the cameras at all times. We'll watch in two-and-a-half hour shifts, each overlapping by an hour or so. If you so much as think you see something off, you report it immediately."
Harold raised a hand. "I'd like to report that it's weird that you're taking this so seriously." Marshal was about to reply, but Chester interrupted.
"Please, just ignore him for now. Let him play devil's advocate."
"I'm advocating absolutely zero devils. They don't exist, and you're stupid for thinking they do."
"Fine! That's fine! I'm not the one that's going to be dismembered by the darkness, so whatever."
"Harold. Even if there isn't anything wrong, and I'm not saying one way or another about if there is or not, we still need to document it, and someone needs to make sure the cameras are running. We're on a job, albeit an unconventional one, and we've got to do it."
Harold shrugged. "Alright, whatever. But I've got first shift. Not waking me up in the middle of the night..."
"I'm going to check out the rest of the place, see what we're dealing with."
With the conflict resolved, Chester finally got a chance to take in his surroundings. As with Henry, he was drawn to some of the paintings, having been with the Family long enough to meet a handful of now successful artists. With his conservative tastes, Chester largely ignored the minimalist and the abstract, finally focusing on an intricate rendering of a moonlit skyline. "Amazing. This is a Landrey, right? Takes me back. What was his first name? Landrey, Landrey... Can't remember now."
Mayor of Samhain
"Name was Sam." Henry finished for the older man, "Sam Landrey. Kid had a knack for the Winter District; I hear he's living up in Hoboken now." Henry was only half-listening to the argument between Marshal and the other members of the Family. He stood up as he heard Harold complaining and moved off to check the bedroom as sleep had been mentioned.
The first room that Henry happened upon he surmised to be the guest bedroom. It was nice and homey but he couldn't help but feel that it clashed with the rest of the apartment, bearing more likeness to a cottage or a family home than to the apartment of a rich young bachelor. Henry thought to himself that maybe Chester could sleep there and feel more at home. Turning around, he made his way back across the living room and into an adjoining hallway which led to the master bedroom. *Upon entry, Henry was immediately able to sense that there was something peculiar about the room, though he was unsure what. He just had a strange feeling that someone was also present. Quickly glancing around, Henry noticed nobody and shrugged the feeling off before taking a closer inspection of the room. This room was more like what he had envisioned, it matched the rest of the apartment and was clean as a catalog. The bed was neatly tucked and made despite Thomson's claims that he had spent the last few nights without much sleep. Henry looked around and saw the window gave a nice view of Spring District, with its rain-drenched buildings and gigantic park to the North of the apartment. The rain was only broken in one area, where a beam of Sun struck down through the clouds, and Henry quickly surmised that Victor Snell was visiting the District.
Taking a glance to the right of the window, Henry saw the wall that was at the foot of the California King sized bed. The wall was smooth and white and blank. Henry remembered what Thomson had been saying and thought that the wall could have used a painting or something just to not have it be so bare, however he thought Thomson's description was only a nightmare and the man just needed to get used to the new place, or go see a shrink.
((*Sense deception: rolled a 3))
Transmundane – Discerned
((Sense Deception rolls were made, all succeeded to varying degrees))
Examining the various rooms of the house, Marshal entered the bedroom shortly after Henry. His furrowed, analytical expression was undone by a sudden chill washing over him. While he was stunned by the feeling, he began to grin moments later. "Hey Harold, come here for a second."
"Hold on." A couple seconds later, Harold sauntered through the door, only to stop dead in his tracks as he too caught the feeling. It felt as if something was wrong, wrong enough that it sent shivers up his spine. He immediately turned his phone off and put it in his pocket. "Jeezus. What the hell was that?"
Marshal's face spoke of grim triumph. "So you felt it, huh? The hairs on the back of your neck standin' up? You too, Henry? Yeah, it's not something you believe until you feel it." He nodded. "That's the presence of a spirit. Don't know if it's human or what, but you know something's there just from that chill."
With every other Beltane in the bedroom, Chester felt compelled to join. At the entrance to the room, Chester paused, blinking and squinting.
"What is it?"
"Mr. Thomson said he had seen or dreamed of a large black stain, did he not?"
"Yes..." Marshal's tone urged him to continue.
"Well, it's going to sound crazy, but I think I just saw it. Over there, on that blank wall." Chester pointed, his finger wavering either in uncertainty or fear. "I blinked, and I saw it in my closed eyes. Haven't seen it again yet, but it was so clear before-"
"That settles it. This is the locus." Marshal paced the room. "Whether it's a haunting or the appearance of a demon, this room," he stamped his foot, "is the point of origin. We all felt it. That's overwhelming evidence. The surveillance of this room has top priority."
"Okay, come on," Harold took a step back, much less confident in his skepticism than before. "The evidence we have is 'feelings,' and something Chester thought he saw? You need more proof to convince a journalist. It could just be that the heating's broken down, or something else."
Marshal shook his head, slowly walking toward Harold. "I'm sorry, but feelings are all we're going to get. Mankind has experienced supernatural phenomena for thousands of years, but of all things, why are these occurrences so unbelievable? Why hasn't science given us a little machine to print out a haunting reading for us?" He clapped a hand on Harold's shoulder suddenly, making him jump. "Because of everything in our world, all the animals and the weather and the planets, the supernatural is the one thing that actively tries to not be seen. It deliberately elludes us, subverts proof, and incites skepticism, all until you're alone in the dark. That, my friend, is when you get your proof, when the only evidence you'll ever get to pass on is a scream."
((Am I doing an Expression check against my own party?))
Marshal pulled away from Harold, stretching. "Anyway, nobody's sleeping here tonight. We'll all be in the living room, and we can monitor everything from there via camera."
Last edited by Khanman; 10-27-2013 at 09:01 PM.
Mayor of Samhain
Henry was snapped out of his reverie by the arrival of the other Beltane's and their subsequent idiocy. Standing and listening, Henry could not believe that all three of them were so immediately ready to begin setting up surveillance for a room that only gave them a weird feeling. He had wanted to sleep in this room and now he knew that if he even so much as mentioned it there would be trouble from his Family.
"You're nuts Marshal. I tell ya right now yer gonna get nothing on those cameras. If they don't wanna get found we sure as shit ain't finding 'em tonight." The man did not turn around, as his mind went elsewhere to the earlier days of the Family, when The Three Beggars were under his tutelage. He wondered why he couldn't have members as good as them anymore, and reminisced briefly about the day that the three had left the Family when he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.
"Hello?" Thomson's voice called from the entrance, prompting Henry to walk out and meet their employer.
"Hello sir" Henry started, helping Thomson with the bag he carried which contained several video cameras. "I'm not going to stick around very long.. I've got to go check into my hotel." Thomson spoke hurriedly, "If you have any questions feel free to call, you all have my number. I'll be back tomorrow around lunch if that's fine with you. Any questions before I go?"
Transmundane – Discerned
Without a word, Marshal grabbed the bag of cameras, rooting around in it as he walked off. Harold shrugged, looking to the others for guidance. Chester was the only one to raise a finger. "You said you saw a large black stain, on one of the walls. Would you mind showing us which wall? Just wanted to get a better understanding of your experience."
"The locus," Marshal chimed from another room.
Mayor of Samhain
"Sure, alright." Thomson spoke quickly, "Though I told you this back in the restaurant" He moved briskly toward his bedroom and as he stepped in, he turned to a sharp left and pointed at the wall. Suddenly, though, Thomson became cold. He stopped and lost the vigor which he had just been moving with.
"It's there..." Thomson said pointing to the blank wall. "I can see it.." he gulped, "I can see it right now." He pinched himself "I'm not dreaming am I? I'm awake and this thing is here. I'm crazy aren't I?" He sunk onto the floor and leaned against the wall, putting his hands over his head as he cowered before the stain which no one else could see.
"I can't do this.." he muttered miserably, "I just wanted to live a normal life and have a good job and start a family.. I didn't want it to end like this.."
The lights began to flicker in the room, even though they had been off they turned on briefly and began to come to light. Henry appeared in the doorway and saw that no one was touching the switch, the lights were simply flickering on their own. Suddenly, every light in the apartment began to shine brightly before glowing white hot. With a loud crack, they all burnt out simultaneously.
Henry would have said something, but a loud thunderclap drew his attention to the window, where he saw that the normal sky of Spring District had been replaced with a horrible muted brown sky. Turning back toward the Living room, Henry saw that that window had a normal sky outside of it. Henry instinctively rushed out of the room and into the perceived greater safety of the living room.
Transmundane – Discerned
The remaining Beltanes looked up at the lights flicker and die, reacting mostly in confusion. Chester, trying to pick Thomson up off the bedroom floor, gave a mumbled "Good lord" before helping Thomson up. "All right then. Sorry about that, thank you for your time, we can take care of it from here. See you in the morning." He hurried him toward the apartment's exit. As he left the bedroom, he caught a glance of the unnatural weather displayed outside the window.
Meanwhile, Marshal looked back and forth between the other windows in the apartment, taking note of the contrast. While the others were clearly disturbed by the strange happenings in the apartment, he seemed to be feeding off of them, his lifelong suspicions being confirmed before his eyes. "And it's not even dark yet," he mused. "It's the middle of the afternoon. I can't imagine what it will be like when it gets dark." He began fiddling with the small cross in his pocket. "Rather, I guess I don't want to."
"Okay, let's calm down a little." Harold seemed the least calm. "We're getting jumpy about a power outage. A lightning strike just happened, at almost the exact same time. Nothing supernatural about that, hehe."
Last edited by Khanman; 10-27-2013 at 10:28 PM.