[IC] City in the Dark - An Urban Shadows RP

[Kal]

"Don't act like I want to keep this a secret. I inherited this secret. Secrets are just lies, and there's never a good way to reveal a thousand year old lie."
- T. Curtis

The Story So Far:

Even those who don't follow politics know about Mayor Curtis' pushback against the District's expansion, the second move that's garnered any sort of unpopularity. Speculations fly about why the Mayor pushes against the District when it attracts so many tourists, bringing in significant money to the city and state. Even the Governer has expressed his support, but Mayor Curtis still hasn't backed down.

So, instead of the promised expansion east, the Hart Conglomerate, headed by Cynthia Hart, had to backtrack as sanction after sanction was placed, demanding that they be complied with before allowing any sort of expansion to take place. The expansion no longer has any set date after this last move by Mayor Curtis.

But hey, that's all politics.

Boring ol' politics.

---

36 Hours Ago: The media gets wind that detectives were called to the Mayor's personal home.

24 Hours Ago: News confirms that Pamela Curtis, Tom Curtis' and his late first wife's daughter, as well as the black sheep of the family, was reported missing.

"There's always a price, point to any one man or woman in this city, all I need to do is find their number."
- C. Hart

0 Hours Ago: Joshua Curtis puts out a statement, and it spreads like wildfire. "I'm offering three-million dollars of my personal funds to whoever brings my sister, Pam, home safe, unharmed, in one piece."

---

Rumor: The Curtis' are an old family, is it any surprise some say that they have roots that tie them to magic practitioners? I'm sure everyone has a witch in their family. What do they call them now, Wiccan?

Rumor: Yeah, sure, the Mayor's second wife, the one he recently married, Elisa Campleone Curtis, is also from a family with brujas deep in their background. Coincidence? No, just people making up fun stories to fit the narrative.

Rumor: Did you know Hart ain't Cynthia's true last name? Yeah, she revamped herself some years ago. You know, people say that she ain't someone you wanna run into in the dark of night, and not cuz of any gun, no, they say that... y'know... That she's... BOO! I'm just messing with ya, what, you think I was gonna say she was a vampire? No such thing.

• • •

[Establish your character, and a connection with this case, be it wrapped in the center of it all, or peripherally.]

[Penny]

The bullet struck the dumpster and ricotched wildly, striking sparks from a fire escape before lifting a teaspoon full of red brick dust from the alley wall. Sophia De La Fuente stuck her glock blindly around the side of her stinking metal refuge and fired blindly down the alley, more or less to keep her attackers honest.

“Don’t be holding out on us Soph! We know you know something!” Martinez yelled, several more gunshots slamming into the dumpster to emphasize the point. The gang bangers were not individually brave, nor competent, but there were a half dozen of them and numbers counted for something. When six people were shooting at you in a blind alley, probability could be a bitch.

“Do I look like a fucking alderman?” she demanded, thumbing the catch and dropping her empty magazine to the ground. Briefly she considered retrieving it, but at this point she was going to have to ditch the gun anyway, so destroying the other evidence was probably pointless.

“Now Sophia,” Martinez said in Spanish, “Everyone knows the Mayor’s wife is involved in this and she is a brujah. You are a brujah so just tell me what you know and I’ll let you live.”

Sophia risked a glance over the dumpster. The thugs hadn’t advanced down the alley, but they sure were covering it. She glanced upwards towards the fire escape and judged her chances of climbing to the rooftop. Close to zero, even if these idiots insisted on holding their pistols sideways like this was a bad rap video.

“What, you think its a fucking book club or something?” The Campleone family was rumored to contain magical adepts, but they weren’t exactly on her side of the tracks and she had done her best to stay off their radar.

“Well if you don’t know anything it probably make good sense to kill you, you know, just so you don’t put a curse on me or something…” Martinez called with the playful tone of a cat tormenting a mouse. Sophia considered a magical solution. While several things came to mind, dropping six bodies where someone had been shouting her name wasn’t the sort of thing that would keep her off the radar.

“Are you open to a suggestion?” she called, firing another few blind rounds down the alley.

“I’m listening,” Martinez replied.

“Like I said, I don’t know anything, but I can ask around and let you know,” she shouted back at him, working her jaw to try to dispel the ringing that gunfire in a tight space had induced.

“Sounds risky,” Martinez said dubiously but she could tell he was interested. Even in this part of town the distant wail of sirens meant that the police were not far off. He had to either make a deal or finish her off.

“No more so than seeing how many of your boys I can kill before you still get exactly zero information,” she called back. There was a long considerate pause.

“24 hours pendeha, after that… well I know where you live.” There was the sound of running feet punctuated by a long silence. Sophia risked another look but the mouth of the alley was empty. Still no point in taking chances. Bunchng herself she leaped the few feet up to catch the lowest rung of the fire escape and began to pull herself up hand over hand. She could get off the roof without being seen. In the mean time she had to see if she could track down an oracle she knew and ask about this missing big wig. Whether she told Martinez or not, if he came calling others might have the same idea.

[Move: Hitting the Streets - Looking for the Forecaster, a crazy Ron Burgundy figure who appears mysteriously to dispense cryptic predictions and inaccurate weather reports.]

[sassy1085]

Emily Andrada

Location: Library

---

"All right...Darkness Is Rising goes here and A Darker Shade of Magic goes here.." Emily said to herself after just putting back some books in the shelves after the readers give them back to the library. Emily sigh with pride, feeling happy that people still read books. "Ahhh, a another day, another putting books back where they belong." It has been a one year since Emily moves to the big city, she wants to get out there and moves some where big, she thought this city is a perfect fit, perfect places to vist, perfect home and most importantly, a perfect job as a librarian!

Before going to her table, Emily spot a something under one of the tables, it was a bag. Emily sighs, a another lost item, kids today, they need to remembers don't leave things behind. Emily check the backpack, looking a name tag to see who it belong to and when she spot the name tag, her eyes widen, it belong to Pamela Curtis, the missing daughter of Mayor. Pam probably was in here before she went missing but Emily didn't see her coming in, so how did Pam-These questions are just have to wait, Emily need to give this bag to the police!

[Jarl Coolgruuf]

---

3 million dollars. Ho-ly shit. It was basically a low scale lottery in that it was fun to daydream, but anyone “playing” was more likely to get struck by lightning twice over in the same afternoon on a sunny day than actually win the pot. How many hundreds of thousands of people would now be looking for this girl? As nice as that many dead presidents in a briefcase sounded, Carolyn knew she would never find the girl. At least… not on her own. Especially not during work hours. She returned her mind to her makeup and put the finishing touches on her lipstick. Blood red, as always. She had to admit the idea of a vampire wearing that shade of lipstick was funny in a roundabout way. So on the nose it was almost comical. It might be funnier if she actually drank blood rather than the emotions of those in her audience, but she wasn’t exactly hurting to switch appetites. She found the idea of drinking blood absolutely repulsive.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the dressing room door and a gruff male voice.
“You done in there? You’re on in less than 2 minutes.”
“I’ll be ready when I’m good and goddamn ready to be but lucky for you, I am.”
“You got a mouth on you, eh? Better watch yourself before I ruin that perfect little smile.”
“Make my night, fuck stick. Put one hand on me and you’ll be out the door and without two pennies to rub together faster than you can say “bad idea”, get me?”
There was a pause from the other side of the door.
“Whatever. Just get out there already,” the man replied before his footsteps faded away.

Carolyn stood from the rickety old stool positioned by her makeup station and stretched with a groan. Honestly, she wasn’t really up to the task of entertaining rich assholes with wandering eyes and restless hands. Come to think of it, when was she ever up to that? Never, really. She only kept strutting out onto the stage night after night because some of them tipped well and she was paid handsomely on top of that. It wasn’t unlike being a stripper that got to keep her clothes on, especially considering her current employer for the past year had made the lounge from the bones of an upscale strip club. No one really knows what happened to the previous owner and frankly she didn’t care. As long as she was making money she didn't need to know much else and sometimes it was better not to know.

She thought best not to keep her audience waiting and made her way down the exposed brick hallway to the backstage area. One last adjustment to her long, black hair as she inspected her now flawless features in a mirror. It’s truly amazing what makeup can do. She also adjusted her dress, a high slit dress black as sin that hugged her figure like a lover saying hello after a long absence. This bad boy only came out on special occasions and rumor had it some corporate big shots were on a business trip from the next city over. If the bartenders had done their jobs, they’d be nice and relaxed with their fingers loose on their wallets.

A low and slow jazz bassline was her cue to make her appearance. She waited as a red curtain slowly drifted up to reveal just how well she filled out her dress under the glare of the stage lights. With practiced grace, she made her way to the front of the stage. The crowd stirred with preemptive claps along with many suggestive whistles of approval. She smiled as she wrapped her perfectly manicured fingers around the microphone and brought it close to her lips. Her voice, smooth and dripping with seduction, quickly enrapturing them as she sang.
“Never know how much I love you
Never know how much I care
When you put your arms around me
I get a fever that's so hard to bear
You give me fever when you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight
Fever in the mornin'
Fever all through the night”

The relics of the lounge’s past proved useful for her performance. Most notably, the extended stage that allowed her to walk right into the crowd and allowed them to view her at all angles. Carolyn took full advantage of this as she pulled the microphone from the stand and strutted across the stage in her heels. The regulars were there and she made sure to acknowledge them as she went, but she was on the lookout for the big prize; the out of towners. She spotted them in their custom continentals rather quickly and put in the extra, extra mile for them. With swaying hips and legs working overtime she made her way toward the oldest of the group. She could taste the desire radiating off of him, the emotional deluge that would sustain her blasphemous existence for a bit longer. Her routine for these types was flawless and she’d have this salt and pepper perv eating out of the palm of her hand in 60 seconds tops.
”Sun lights up the day time
Moon lights up the night
I light up when you call my name
'Cause I know you're gonna treat me right
You give me fever when you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight
Fever in the mornin'
Fever all through the night”

Carolyn never broke eye contact with him as she offered her hand which he readily took and helped her off the stage. He was practically shaking with excitement as she traced a finger across his shoulders, walking a slow circle around his chair. Her fingers slipped just under his suit jacket and traced a finger lightly over his chest before gently grasping his tie. She pulled him closer until they were a hand’s breadth from each other before she let the tie slip through her fingers and left him with only the scent of her perfume to keep him company. She didn’t even need to look back to know he was star struck with mouth agape. It was almost too easy. She was already feeling more energetic from that little snack and so resolved to keep the pace up as searched for her next customer/victim.

==========

The night was far from young when Carolyn's shift was finally done, but she wasn’t tired in the slightest. After a feeding like that, she’d still be ready for more if her feet weren’t so sore from walking around in heels for so many hours. Back in her dressing room, she scrubbed off her makeup which took several wipes. Her skin went from flawless to rather freckled. Her flowing hair went up into a very messy bun as she wiped her lips. Her eyeshadow proved to be a little stubborn, but the fake lashes came off easily and those she tucked into their case with extra care. Heels were traded for sneakers and a strapless bra was tossed aside in favor of a sports bra. She audibly sighed as she felt the support of the new garment allow her back a much needed rest. The person now staring back at her in the mirror was entirely unrecognizable as Carolyn Harper by anyone who didn’t already know her. Carolyn Harper was a well known singer in the lounge scene and would never associate with the likes of the freckled girl in a ratty T-shirt and jeans who exited the lounge after closing. Relative anonymity suited her just fine. She hated quite literally all of her customers, their grins, the looks they gave her, all of it. Knowing all that, she couldn’t be held responsible for any broken noses if they tried to interact with her when she was off the clock.

On the drive back to her secluded apartment downtown, her thoughts drifted back to the missing girl and the reward for her return; mostly the reward. Perhaps Sophia might know something. After all she knew people so maybe she knew something about the case. Couldn’t hurt to send her a text. Chances are she was at home doing whatever boring witch things witches get up to when they didn't have a broomstick handy.

what’s up<

you wouldn’t know anything about that Curtis girl who went missing would you?<

I’ll totally split the reward with you if you help me look for her lol<

[Zoey Boey]

k a y l e e

Kaylee lived in a big house on quiet block in a forgotten part of town. Just a few streets down from bustling roads an bright lights, a simple redirection of traffic could leave certain residential areas isolated. Overgrown houses, faded red bricks, weed-cracked concrete tiles on the sidewalks and vines in the steel fences. Town houses, two stories tall, squished up against each other.

So there was Kaylee's place, squeezed in amongst the others. Unnoticed by outsiders, but instantly recognizable to those who knew her. This was the place of the watch dog, the girl who walked at night, she could smell fear, and she could smell evil. Or, so the stories went. Most people just knew her as Kaylee, the quiet, part-time mechanic who lived with the dogs and the children and who could throw a great block party and really get things done as long as no one was looking.

Right now, her shadows shifted in the hazy orange street lamps, her hands tucked in her baggy black hoodie, her long jeans occasionally getting stuck underneath the heel of her canvas sneakers. Her scraggly brown hair hung out of one side of the hood over her head and drifted up in other places.

Fumbling with her keys, she ascended the ancient pair of steps that lead up to the heavy wooden door to her house and began fumbling with a jingling set of keys, most of which she had forgotten the purpose for. As soon as she stuck the key in the keyhole, the clattering of claws and paws could be heard on the tired wooden floor on the otherside. A cascade of excited barks. Pushing open the door against the furry horde, Kaylee smiled big and wide. Speaking in incoherent dog language, she pushed her way through the pack of dogs. There must have been seven or eight and some of them weren't even in the room, too lazy to go visit.

Those weren't the only kids in this house, though. A boxy TV brimming with cartoonish light and boistrous sound indicated the teenager sitting on the couch tactically ignoring the cartoon to instead stare at her phone. That was Christina. Somewhere in the second floor of the house, Robby played old video games and Jason's room was empty, the oldest of the bunch still at his job as a gas station attendant. Jessica had already moved out, and visited from time to time.

"Hey Kiki," Christina called out.

"Hey, Christina. Dogs treat you okay?" Kaylee responded, her voice textured like rough cut wood.

"Somethin' like that. Ruben's extra jumpy today."

"Yeah, I can tell-" Kaylee said with a chuckle as there was suddenly a small dog sitting on her shoulder.

Kaylee waded her way to the couch and flopped down next to Christina, who bent her knees to make room for the shaggy interlopers.

"You stayin' in tonight?" Christina asked.

"Eh, I dunno. Maybe." Kaylee mumbled, scatching a pit bull behind her floppy ears.

"Well..." Christina said, voice high, trailing off. Kaylee didn't react at first, before blinking and doing a slow double take.

"Well, what?" She asked.

"I may have found something." She said, bracing herself for chastisement.

"Wh-what?" Kaylee asked, sitting up straight. "Found what? You know I don't want you looking into that kind of stuff, Christina. It's dangerous. Now don't-"

"I know, I know!" The should-be middle schooler said, pouting and bouncing on the couch.

"Don't interrupt-"

"But this is serious!"

Kaylee opened her mouth.

"Three million dollars serious." Christina added.

"You- b'dwhat?" Kaylee asked, simmering down quite quickly.

"Pam Curtis. You know her?" Christina asked, the lenses of her boxy glasses glowing and glinting with the light of her smart phone.

Kaylee furrowed her brow. "Yeah. Her dad's the only thing keeping that Hart bitch from gentrifying the shit out of this city."

"Language."

"Sorry."

"Anyway," Christina said, popping her lips. "She's been kidnapped. And-"

"What!?" This came as a shock. She had seen Pam before. Kaylee, as some kind of community leader (apparently), had spoken to various influential old people at town meetings before to speak out against the expansion of the District. Occasionally even speaking directly to the mayor. In many ways, local elections were much more important than statewide and national ones.

"-And her brother, is offering a three million dollar reward." She explained. Kaylee sat back and let the knowledge sit for a moment. Even the pack of dogs sense the mood shift.

"Three million dollars." Kaylee repeated quietly.

"Yeah. Lotta cash. Enough to get-"

"Enough to get Rooster off our backs. Enough to pay off the house, and- and send Robby and you to college."

"And get you a bike that isn't a hunk of junk."

"Hey. Hey now. Don't talk shit about my bike."

Christina smiled. "Okay. Kaylee. Who is better at finding people in this town...than you?"

"Well..."

"Literally nobody, Kaylee."

"I don't want you to disappear so much for so long anymore. With this money..."

"I wouldn't have too." Kaylee finished the girls sentence for her. Kaylee clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head.

"How did you find out about this before I did?"

Christina shrugged with a smug smile.

"You're the most annoying fourteen year old I've ever met."

"I know." Christina replied, smugging up her smile even more.

"Ugh." Kaylee shoved a dog in her direction and sat back on the couch. A few moments passed. "I guess... I guess I should get going."

Christina smiled sadly. "Just...just make it home safe. Okay?"

Kaylee returned the smile, trying to hide the dangerous glint in her eye as she felt herself already drifting mentally away from her home. "I will. I promise." The door closed behind her, and both Christina and the dogs were taken aback by how quickly and silenty Kaylee managed to leave the house. Like looking directly at the shadow in the corner of your eye.

There was a dark, unlit spot around the back of the house. Behind a locked, spiked fence she had installed. Several objects covered in a tarp. Beneath that, a bike, locked to the back of the house in chains. Kaylee had produced a duffel bag full of some of her favorite things. Exaling, she detatched the bike and stepped onboard. Wrapping the bag around her shoulder, she placed on a black motor cycle helmet that hid her gaunt, dark features entirely. The engine rumbled to life and she glided out of the alley way and into the city at large.

[Penny]

Sophia walked among the forest of radio antennae arms and legs burning from the long climb. Finding someone who could see the future was a problem if they didn't want to be found. Fortunately many quasi-human entities obeyed some broad rules. The Forecaster could sometimes be found at the scenes of accidents or disasters, sometimes near media equipment like that which cluttered the roof of the city's largest television broadcaster. As Sophia wasn't willing to cause a traffic pile up to summon him, she was forced to take the more passive option.

As she looked out over the city the witch could feel currents of magical energy shifting in the night. Whatever was happening with the mayor and the missing Ms Curtis had stirred the arcane underpinnings of the City. She could feel forces moving in the unforgiving night. Reaching down she drew her phone from her pocket. Whatever was happening this wasn't the time to be alone.

Ha!<

Everyone thinks I know something! Martinez already threatened to shoot me if I didn't find her<

Looking for forecaster now<

1.5 mil each sounds like a good nights work!<