[IC] The Soft Winds (Small Town Sci Fi Mystery RP, Looking for Players)

[AdobeFlash]

Part 1: The Soft Winds Blow

Last Known Sighting Lieutenant Kozlov of the Moscow Espionage Bureau

"This is Lieutenant Kozlov reporting in. Half the squadron has been taken by...something! I knew crossing the swinelands was a bad idea. And for what? To be devoured by some...beast. Does anyone copy?....Alright. It seems I am the last true son of the Motherland here today. I am heading into a cave system, I repeat.......it has found me, and it is...This is the last you will hear from me. The Americans are doing something here...something dangerous...I repeat..s-"

Boca Diablo News Report, May 1st, 1984

"Good morning, and welcome to May!" "That's right, Phil. Today is Tuesday, May 1st, 1984. So far, nothing much to report! The power plant has led to astonishingly low bills, along with gasoline costs plummeting! Truly, Boca Diablo does seem to be turning around!" "Indeed. In other, slightly less cheery news, still no word on the mayor, or lack of one. For those not in the know, Mayor Thompson..." "And to wrap up your morning, why not head on over to the new Feddie's! That's right! The famous, perhaps government operated chain of restaurants has decided to choose our little town as it's next franchise..." "This is a warning. I come from the beyond. They lie. The only hope fo-" "Sorry about that interruption, folks! It seems our signal was...hijacked? Why, that's big enough to get on the news! Federal agents are already being dispatched to dispose of the..."

Geological Report from Boca Diablo Power Plant

May 1st, 1984
At 5:30 am, the ground around Section 1 began shaking heavily. Cave systems are still unusable. Continued growth of Axis moss leads us to believe that a large quantity may lie below. Decipher not yet retrieved

Church of the Flower, Sermon Segment

"...And who grows around us but our benefactors, our lords, the flower? They live above and below, spreading beauty and life. And the damnable leather devils are trying to breach their sacred abode? They haven't the right to do such a thing, and they shan't. For the messages of the Great One shall reach them, and the messages shall be spread about the world..."

The sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds. Thunder rumbles in the distance. Agents from the government scan the swamp for criminals. People go about their lives. They do not know the truth has been eclipsed from them. Their sun of hope blotted by a web of lies. Boca Diablo, by the end of the year, shall either be completely erased, or the herald for a new era. You, and the people around you, will be the ones to decide that fate. Forces beyond comprehension are at work behind the Great Curtain. Begin your day as regular, and soon you will find the destiny of the town in your hands. Welcome to Boca Diablo

[Kassarock]

Jack turned off the radio and sighed. It was morning, and he'd barely slept a darn wink. He wiped the engine oil from his calloused hands with an old rag that might have once been part of a bed sheet and took another sip of his lukewarm coffee. Something had woken him up a little before 3 am and he had gone outside to check it out, took his gun with him too, what with all the queer things that been happening around here last couple'a months. Not that kept stock in any of that, but it doesn't hurt to be careful. It had been nothing, but still, Jack hadn't been able to get back to sleep after that.

At first he had gone back inside, turned the T.V. on low and tried to doze on the sofa, but that hadn't done any good. In the end he had found himself back outside in his workshop, working under the Buick's rear axle. After 5am he had admitted that he had been defeated in the sleep department and stuck a pot of coffee on. While he had been heading back into the barn he thought he had heard... no more... felt... something then again. But when he stopped and tried to pinpoint it, it was gone, so he had shrugged it off and gone back to work.

And now it really was morning. The radio had just switched from that pre-dawn monotonous blur of insomniac friendly tired ballads and smooth tones to the bright and perky yapping of the breakfast programming. The good folks of Boca Diablo would be waking up to beautiful day, a little bit of low hanging mist but that would burn off as it heated up. Right about now they'd be putting on their percolators and pouring milk onto their cornflakes. He snorted in derision at the image.

He stepped out of his oil-stained overalls and pulled a dark grey T-shirt over his head, it snagged slightly on his well muscled arms. He would leave the Buick sit for the rest of the day, he had promised Don Hathaway that he'd go out and take a look at those fences he been talking about mending this morning. Wasn't the sort of the work that Jack liked, but it would pay something. However, before that he needed to eat something.

Jack lit a cigarette and stalked out of the barn. The scrubby lot of dirt and rusted metal cast long shadows in the dawn light and he found his eyes involuntarily wandering over to the empty kennel that sat at the foot of his porch. It had been about a month he guessed since he had seen Al. The dog had wandered off for a night or two before, but never anything like this. At first he had thought he might come back, but as the days went on that possibility looked slimmer and slimmer. He would have seen something driving around if Al had been hit by a truck or a car, but there were still gators out the swamps, big ones too if you believed the stories. They said one had got a ten year old a few years back a couple of townships over, so it was possible. Still, he couldn't bring himself to think about getting a new one yet.

The house was in a sorry state. It had never been much, but at one point it had been a tidy little cabin. Jack had never been any good with house keeping. The step up to the porch were sagging and the whole place needed a new coat of white wash. The garden was all weeds and junk, roof could do with few new shingles to top it off. Maybe in the summer he thought as he exhales another puff of smoke. Inside was much the same story, half the living room was taken up by a motor bike engine he had been tinkering with last winter and the kitchen was a swirl of old pans and empty bottles. He opened the fridge.

"Damn." He sighed as he looked inside.

He had forgotten to pick up any worthwhile groceries. There was half a pint of off milk and a few take-away containers that weren't particularly fresh either. Looks like he was stopping off at one of the diners in town before he went to see Donald. Oh well, he could do with a slice of pie.

[Gelatinous Cube]

The sun crested over the horizon as Special Agent Morgan Daniels peeled out of the motel parking lot and back on the open road.
Next stop: Boca Diablo. The bureau had sent him down to investigate a spate of disturbing disappearances that coincided far too neatly with the foundation of a brand new power plant.
Despite the sinister case, he had a smile on his face. His window was rolled down, allowing early morning breeze to flow through the car and fill his being with the scent of dew and green leaves. The familiar, trusty weight of his service piece at his side also served to keep him contented. He had not managed to get himself any breakfast at the motel, but was assured that Boca Diablo was less than one hour away and their diner was outstanding.

Not even forty-five minutes after leaving the motel did he arrive in the centre of Boca Diablo. He parked outside of a promising looking diner.
He got out of the car and took a deep, satisfied breath as his stomach rumbled another of it's countless concertos. This was the kind of atmosphere he hadn't felt since back in the suburbs of Flint. Ever since joining the Bureau, he'd become a real city boy. This was perhaps reflected most strongly in his black suit and tie. He'd have to buy a few articles of more appropriate clothing while he was here. He was aware of standing out, other agents had already been assigned to Boca Diablo, but as far as Morgan was concerned they were around on different business. His orders had been to steer clear of them and not interfere if he could help it. They were peculiar orders, but Morgan knew better than to question his superiors.
What was important was that he had a case, and a 100% clear rate.

What was even more important was that he had a tremendous hunger. He crossed the road and headed towards the diner, offering polite nods to the passing locals, even if all they had to offer him were suspicious frowns. It was a normality in his line of work that he had already gotten used to.
Stepping inside the air conditioned eatery he had to take a moment to absorb the room. Every exposed surface shined, and the smell of freshly ground coffee and maple syrup were like two ballerinas spinning and twirling through the air.
He sat down at the counter, and caught the attention of one of the waitresses. She beamed a smile at him that was almost blinding. He thought that if she smiled at the counter top she would create some sort of infinite mirror effect.

"Good morning, Sir. What can I get you?" she asked in the sweetest, most porcelain doll tone he had ever heard. It was all he could do not to beam a smile back at her.
"A mug of coffee, a short stack of pancakes with strawberries on top and a side of the crispiest bacon you have."
"Sure thing, hun. I'll have that out for as soon as possible."
"Much obliged to you, ma'am," he responded with the manners his Mother had taught him. The manners his father had lacked.
It was barely ten minutes (passed reading the local newspaper) before his plate and mug were set before him. Lines of steam drifted off his breakfast and made his pulse quicken.
"There you go, hun. Enjoy."
He offered her an amiable nod as he tucked into his breakfast.
How on earth could something be so amiss in a town this fair and quaint?