A couple of days have passed since the body of a young man was dumped in an alleyway by the Hill-top Tavern, found by the owner. Alexander had ended up at the scene, called in in the line of duty to help secure it while the DPD detectives and crime lab techs worked through and identified, tagged, logged, secured and analysed what evidence they could find. So far, not much of interest or use had been found, though. The tyre mark he’d found was left by an SUV, but the body was still unidentified as far as the PD was concerned. Nobody had noticed the guy missing yet.
In the chaos of random chance and happenstance, Alexander had bumped into Delilah a day or two ago. The trail of the conversation had wandered, but had finally touched on two sets of recent events – separate, but linked. Delilah told of Lucy and Elijah’s encounter with a ghost, a victim of the cannibals in the city. Alexander had told her about the spirit he’d encountered, one of the cannibals who had been torn apart by his pack for his weakness. They had talked and today’s meeting had been suggested – that Alexander and Lucy come here to try to find the spirit again, to see what else they could learn from it.
Which brings them to this place, at this moment. A motorbike pulls off the I-70 and makes its way along Lowell, passing the tavern. It slows a little as it passes the tavern, the driver seemingly taking a particular interest in who, or what, could be around. The scene, scoured for anything of potential interest, had been cleared. Loose bits of yellow tape hung here and there.
The bike swings across the road a little further on and returns, pulling just into the alleyway. The engine stops and the driver pulls off his helmet, revealing Alexander. He waits until the person sat behind him gets off before swinging his leg over the bike and getting off too.
LucyWhen most people see Lucy it's not hard to imagine her pressed up intimately on the back of a motorcycle. She is long-limbed and fine-boned, fit, graceful and nimble, and oh so easy on the eyes. Then she touches them, and all thoughts of intimacy freeze up in a sudden cold snap. This girl with her long dusk-red hair is frost-ridden, cold from the inside out. Alexander surely feels the chill seeping through his clothes - Lucy is wearing a black tank top with a sugar skull embroidered in white, and very short shorts over a pair of netted hose as well as her knee-high black boots, that doesn't leave too many layers of protection for him.
But it is what must be done if they want to get to the bar quickly and anywhere close to the same time. So he feels the cold of her legs against his, her arms wrapped lightly around his waist to keep her in place. If he had a spare helmet then Lucy removes that after she dismounts, and if he didn't, well. Death comes to all eventually, including gatekeepers of the underworld and speakers for the dead. Lucy is a great believer of Fate. If she were to die tonight her only regret would be that she couldn't fulfill her promise to Kalen.
She looks better than she did around the time of events in the park. Always corpse-pale, that night Lucy was grey and ash. Sunset over a cold harsh fog. Now she just looks like herself, although a bit more serious than last time Alexander would've seen her.
And now they're here, thanks to their mutual connection suggesting that they work together. Lucy adjusts her bag, which she managed to hook over her head, the extra-lumpy pouch jammed under her armpit. Inside are her tools, the things she'll need to make contact with the deceased. Where Alexander looks around for potential onlookers or dangers, Lucy looks for a likely place to set herself and her stuff down. She'd already handed him a slip of paper (one of her "business" cards (sans lipstick stain)) with a license plate number handwritten in black ink, something she hadn't known what to do with until she remembered Alexander's line of work. Now it's time to investigate in another way.
HungerIt was early enough in the evening that the Hill-top Tavern wasn't yet bustling with the late-night crowd, but there was still a healthy number of people inside the old building. This place was a favorite neighborhood haunt, popular with an eclectic crowd of college students, young professionals and seasoned drinkers. Even news of the recent crime hadn't done much to slow business, though there were now signs posted both outside and inside the tavern warning customers to stay safe.
It was growing dark when Lucy and Alexander drove up on Alexander's motorcycle. The sky was a wash of dark blue, but someone had recently replaced the bulb on a light fixture that looked down over the alley, so the two mages would find their path well-lit with a bright sulfurous glow. The trash and broken glass that Alex had found that morning had since been swept up, leaving the ground clear of debris. There were dark stains on the pavement where Oliver's body had lain, but they were faded. Two dumpsters stood against the outside wall of the tavern, but otherwise the alley was empty. Someone was playing a Bon Jovi song on the juke box inside. For the moment, there didn't appear to be any immediate witnesses near the alley, though people did come and go through the bar's front entrance periodically.
AlexanderThere’s no other way of saying it; Lucy feels cold. But it’s not something that she can help, any more than any of them can alter what they are. She simply is. And Alexander doesn’t exactly draw warmth into a room when he enters these days. He’s spent enough time out of the house to be used to the cold, though, and it doesn’t overly bother him. So after she dismounts, he does the same and sets both of their helmets on the saddle. Alexander here is no believer in fate but is a believer in plastic’s and expanded foam’s ability to cushion an impact, so he had his spare helmet stashed away in a backpack for her. The backpack is now slung on his front, rather emptier than it started. It had a couple of tools left in it, though; a bottle of water and a cheap fold-up mirror.
He glances at the opening to the alley, checking for anyone paying them much attention, before walking further in and back towards the dumpsters. The light is slightly concerning, but they’re not doing anything strictly illegal. Nothing that would be found in statutes, at least. But the owner of the bar may be buying a new light bulb if they decide that they need a little more privacy.
He nods first at the dark patch on the ground and then at the dumpsters. “His body was found there, and I found his spirit up there. He vanished like smoke, though. Do you think you’ll be able to bring him back?”
Lucy"I don't know," she says frankly, relying on him to guard this little patch of darkness. The dark stains on the ground do not bother her any more than the dead bother her. Death is a part of life, after all, a part of the cycle. They all have their part to play before that cycle shifts and winter comes.
"I don't usually call anyone to me." She tells him this as she withdraws an antique silver lantern from her bag. It feels like her, like the gelicide of oncoming winter, like threads woven and weaving together. The brushed silver even looks a little frosted over. Holding this in one hand, she digs in her bag to find her lighter. When she has it, she opens the door of her lantern. "Fate guides me to where I need to be."
As she flicks her lighter to life and lights the wick within she prays, hopes that Fate has done just that.
Dusk handmaiden, if he be here, reveal to me the one who died here. Show me Oliver.
She holds her lantern up, its light casting flickering shadows through the wings and graceful arching necks of a multitude of swans.
[Spirit 1: Spirit Sight/Sensing, coincidental + specialty focus]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (2, 8) ( success x 1 )
Lucy[per ST Gauntlet is 6, -1 (specialty focus) -1 (natural channel) +1 = 5 for the extension]
Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (4, 10) ( success x 1 )
Lucy[and again! +WP]
Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (4, 6) ( success x 1 )
Alexander[Spirit sight. DIff 6 for the gauntlet, -1 for practiced, -1 for taking time, WP just because.]
Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (10) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Alexander[Extending, +1 diff, spending all the WP!]
Dice: 1 d10 TN5 (1) ( success x 1 ) [WP]
Alexander[Extending again. What do we need WP for anyway?]
Dice: 1 d10 TN5 (10) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
HungerBy the time the umbral reflection came into clear focus for Lucy and Alexander, the sky above them had gone from dusk to night. Lucy's lantern lit a path through the silvered urban landscape, and the two of them found themselves staring, once again, at an empty alleyway.
Wherever Oliver's spirit was, he wasn't there waiting for them. Had he moved on to some other realm? Or did he yet haunt this place?
There was only one way to find out.
AlexanderAlexander pushes and pushes and pushes and, when he finally pushes his vision through to see the reflected world that spirits inhabit, has broken out in a sweat. He sags against one of the dumpsters, partly from the force of will and partly from the disappointment that Oliver wasn’t still here. He wasn’t really expecting him to be after the way the spirit has dissipated like smoke on the breeze, but it would have been nice if it had been that simple.
“He’s not here. What do we do now?” We, because Alexander is here because he wants to stop the cannibals as much as any of them do. We, because he’s going to help. If he can.
LucyWhere Alexander pushes, Lucy waits. The divine entity that she serves can be difficult, demands much of her oracle. Lucy waits for clarity and vision to come until, finally (and as she always must to prove her worthiness) she lifts her chin, breathes in deep, and tries to see. Tries to imagine herself a proper vessel for the power, the magic.
When it comes, there is nothing. The alley is as it is which is as it has been since they arrived. Her bright green eyes scan the alley, anyway, before moving to Alexander leaned against a dumpster. She offers him a warm smile.
"You take a breath," she says not unkindly. "I'm going to try to call out to him."
Turning her head away, her attention away, the Dreamspeaker takes a step forward and, body held poised, graceful, expectant, she lifts her chin and asks another boon.
...lend me your voice...
"Oy! Oliver? Are you there?"
[or she will shout provided she gets the successes! Spirit 2: Call Spirit, Diff 6 -1 (specialty focus) -1 (natural channel) +WP]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (9, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
HungerLucy's voice echoed out across the penumbra, and for a while... there was nothing. No movement. No sound. Just the spectral reflection of the alley and the tavern beside them. Then a light breeze shifted past Lucy and Alexander, its cold touch lingering on their skin like winter's kiss. To anyone else it might have felt uncomfortable, but to these two? Lucy and Alexander were already children of frost.
A scattering of leaves shifted about their feet. Then, quite suddenly, behind Lucy came a voice.
"Your hair looks like blood."
If Lucy and Alexander turned toward the voice, they'd find themselves looking at a pale, lanky young man with wild, curly hair and bright blue eyes. Alexander would recognize him as Oliver, though the scars of his wounds were gone once more and he seemed to be speaking normally. (No blood dripping from his mouth.) The ghost smiled, seemingly friendly. But there was something off about it. Cold. Sharp.
(Hungry.)
He felt ravenous.
Lucy[WP doo de doo]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 1, 2, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )
Alexander“Oliver.” Alexander does turn, recognising the voice. He glances down the alley, towards where his bike was parked and where random people could appear from. At the moment, there’s no need to conceal the conversation from others – not like the last time. That doesn’t mean they’re safe from anybody deciding to use the alley as a shortcut, though.
He nods, commenting to Lucy. “This is Oliver, the one I was telling you about.” Then, to Oliver, “You’re looking a little healthier than the last time you were here.” Because he can be civil. Because pissing somebody off – even if they’re dead – doesn’t seem like the best way to get information out of them. You can always piss them off later.
He has one question, for those left behind. “What’s your last name? I’d like to let your family know that you’re not coming home.” He leaves the questions there, at least for the moment. Lucy knows more about spirits than he does, so he does what he can to keep watch for anyone – anything – trying to creep up on them.
LucyLucy startles and twists around, the movement quick and fluid. The lantern in her hand swings wildly as the young woman frowns at him.
It would be a lie to say that she's not nervous, that this man does not frighten her. She doesn't recognize him, not by sight at least. She recognizes that feeling, that sense of gnawing, aching, ravenous hunger that settles deep in the pit of her stomach.
She swallows hard against a cold tremor of disgust, revulsion. Fear. He's one of them and Lucy has witnessed what they're capable of. Seeing him there, feeling that hunger, it threatens to bring the images of vision back into her mind's eye.
But Lucy would not have been chosen for her role in life if she could not be strong in the face of her fear. Adjusting the grip of her lantern, she lifts her chin, one foot sliding across the pavement to rest near to its mate.
"Hello, Oliver," she says. "My name's Lucy. We're here to help you, but we need your help, too. We have questions only you can answer."
HungerOliver rolled his lower lip into his mouth and grinned. There were gaps between his teeth, and the expression made him look alarmingly child-like. It was hard to imagine why he might have been targeted for recruitment. Perhaps it was less about size and strength and more about cunning.
When Alexander asked for Oliver's last name, the ghost's smile faded, and he stopped biting his lip. "Fuck them. I don't have a family." Maybe that was true, or maybe he just wanted it to be. Oliver ran a hand through his hair and tugged at a curl, watching Lucy now. His attention on her felt curious and hungry all at once.
"You want to know about the wolves and the dragon."
AlexanderAlexander may be less nervous about this whole encounter than Lucy, but then isn’t there a saying about ignorance being bliss? While he’s seen the aftermath of the pack’s work – the body of Oliver lying in this alley – he didn’t see it take place. The sensation of ravenous hunger is just like their own, different resonances. It isn’t something to be feared in itself. Besides, the guy’s dead.
His attention swings back to Oliver when he denies having a family, and he just watches the spirit for a few moments. He nods. If Oliver isn’t going to answer, he has no way of forcing him. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
He nods again when he states why Alexander and Lucy are here. “I guess that the woman you told me about last time is the dragon, then?”
LucyLucy nods, yes, they want to know about the wolves and the dragon. The wolves would be the other young men. The dragon...that must be their leader? Oliver and the others, they don't and din't seem to be afraid. They didn't behave as though they had been coerced or forced into doing the things that they have done. Lucy suppresses a shudder.
It surprises her to hear that the leader is a woman, not because she is a woman, but because she didn't see any women among those who took Jeremy Tran and killed his dog.
"My sister said this is old magic. It's a ritual that made you what you are, isn't it? What can you tell us about it? Why and how were you and the others chosen? How many are left, and are they all guys?"
Hunger"She's Jörmungandr."
The word had an old sound to it, deep and resonant. Oliver cocked his head and looked from Alexander to Lucy.
"It's the oldest magic. Kill or be killed. Eat, and survive. That's Darwinism. You think because we live in this supposed civilized society, we're any different? Her magic didn't make us what we are. She just opened the path. Showed us what we could be. We hunt, we kill, and she prepares the food.
"She chose us because we were hungry. And because we were strong enough to do what had to be done. Not everyone can stomach blood, you know. I couldn't, at first. But I like it now."
Oliver brows drew together and he stopped talking. As though something about what Lucy had said gave him pause. He seemed confused for a moment, then his attitude became more hostile.
"Why do you want to know how many of us are men? I don't fucking know how many are left. Go find out for yourself."
AlexanderShe’s Jörmungandr. The name means nothing to Alexander. It sounds European – the pronunciation of the ö – but beyond that it’s nothing he’s familiar with. He glances at Lucy, to see if there’s any recognition in her face.
Oliver is becoming more the man – the spirit – that he was the last time Alexander saw him here. He can’t help but wonder how long it will be before he starts to show his wounds again. He’s reciting much of the same rhetoric that he’d come up with last time around, but this time Alexander speaks up. Angry, for what Oliver had done and what the others were still doing.
“It’s not that simple, not any more. Once, maybe, it was kill or be killed. But how about having the strength to stand up to those who would take advantage of others? Kill others? Feed on others? You talk about being strong, but you are – were – just doing her work for her. Because you were too weak to face up to her? You kill and take her the dead, and then what? She tosses you the scraps?”
Apparently it’s later and he isn’t so worried about pissing Oliver off.
Lucy[int+occult]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 5, 10) ( success x 1 )
LucyThe name does strike a chord with Lucy, of course it was. She is a child of myth, oracle of a forgotten deity of the Greek pantheon. Lucy doesn't have a mind for study, doesn't like to read for pleasure unless it's tales and stories and book after book about mythology.
She has heard about Jörmungandr. With a glance to Alexander, she says, "The Midgard serpent. According to Norse mythology it encircles the world, and when it lets go the world will end. An ouroboros, the serpent that eats its own tail, constantly recreating itself." This is said thoughtfully as the young woman scrapes her brain for the information. She is clever, is Lucy, but cleverness and intelligence don't always go hand in hand.
Then there is agitation. Alexander and his frustrations and Oliver and his...his what? His discomfort? Did Lucy's question hit too close to a mark?
She looks at Alexander and she says, her voice soothing, "Easy." To Oliver she lifts her hand to him, palm flat toward him. "Easy." The longer they talk the more Lucy relaxes. Whatever Oliver did in life, that's in the past. He's dead now, a ghost, wandering lost and trapped. That means he falls under her purview and she was chosen for this sort of thing. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. She picked you because you're strong and you are strong. Strong enough that you're still holding on to this world. That's very strong, that's very impressive. I need you to stay strong for me, Oliver, and right now that means I need you to stay calm."
Someday, maybe soon, Lucy will tell Alexander about angry and hostile spirits, poltergeists, and so on. For the moment all she can do is lead by example, head held high, posture as perfectly poised as ever but shot through with strength and determination.
"What is her name? Where can we find the others?"
[manip (persuasive)+leadership on dat ghost]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 5, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 3 ) Re-rolls: 2
HungerAlexander couldn't stomach Oliver's rhetoric anymore, and who could blame him? It was all the more disturbing coming from a murderer. Someone who ate the flesh of his victims like they were cattle. Jeremy Tran had been strong in ways that Oliver would never be. But sometimes the world was not fair. Sometimes people died, not because they were weak, but because the odds were stacked against them.
Oliver pulled back his lips in a silent snarl as he stepped closer to Alexander, and for a moment his form seemed to grow more solid. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you and I'll eat your fucking heart! You don't know me. You don't know us. You don't know what the fuck you're talking about!"
That he was agitated was more than evident. Angry, yes, but more than that. Defensive. Blood started to drip down from the corner of his mouth, but Oliver stopped advancing when Lucy held up her hand. He stopped and he looked at her, and for a long moment he seemed torn. But gradually her words seemed to pacify him. She'd picked the right tactic. There was a reason why Lucy was good at what she did.
"I'll tell you, but if you try to find her, she will eat you. There's a house in Morrison, off Jurassic Road. They all live there. Victoria, Brandon and the rest. You think you're stronger than them? Good luck."
Then he gave this mad little laugh. High-pitched and hyena-like. And he turned and ran down the alley until he disappeared.
AlexanderOliver takes his step forward and... Alexander steps back. He should have known, should have remembered, that spirits can cross over the Gauntlet as much as they could pass over into their world. Interact with their world. He starts to wonder if he let his anger get away from him, that he’s pushed Oliver too far, as he drops into a defensive stance. Waiting for the attack.
But then Lucy steps in and the threat – the immediate threat, anyway – lessens. Both men – alive and dead – listen to the woman who helps those who have died across the barrier, into their new world. Alexander stands watching, ready in case things change again. Ready to put himself between Oliver and Lucy. Only before that can happen, Oliver is running away again.
Alexander releases a breath he hadn’t realised that he was holding, leaning back against the dumpster again. Still looking along the alley, where Oliver had disappeared, he says, “Sorry.” He apologises for almost wrecking what they had come here to do. But he’s still angry. Angry at Oliver. Angry at the others. Angry at himself for not knowing more, and angry for feeling so damned useless.
“I’ll let the others know what he said. They’re figuring out what to do.”
Alexander[And because it's early now and I'm being all ambiguous, that first bit should be more along the lines of "as much as the living could pass over into the spirit world"]
LucyLucy nods to Oliver. If they try to find her she'll eat them, yes, that is probably true. But they are more than just the two of them. Lucy doesn't know exactly how many of Denver's oracles are mobilizing to confront this threat, but she knows that they are. They have to be.
And then she shakes her head sadly. Before she can respond to his wish for luck, he lets out that laugh and is off and running. Lucy just watches him go, knowing full well she's not strong enough yet for her Avatar to work through her and bring him back. Someday, though. Maybe.
Sighing, she lifts her lantern, opens the little door, and blows out the flame. Only the light of the lamp remains, casting the world in harsh and unnatural shades of yellow, defining the shadows more than it dispels them.
Alexander apologizes and Lucy offers him a small but genuine smile. Coming closer, lantern hanging limp at her side, she puts her other hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. It's a hard thing we do. Dealing with the dead is a lot like dealing with cats. You never know when you'll find a lost housecat or an angry feral monster, but they're still just cats. They usually respond to kindness, or if not that, some kind of treat at least."
When he says that he'll let the others know Lucy looks...well she looks relieved, to be honest. "Oh? Good." Good good good. No one (well maybe not no one) will find their phones spammed with poorly spelled warnings. "There are a few different possibilities with the Norse stuff, I think. Either she wants to break the world, or she's trying to remake herself into something else. Maybe only a Thor can defeat her, or who knows," she continues with a shrug, and now she reaches for his elbow, to tug on it, maybe guide him into the bar for a much needed beer (or something stronger). "Maybe it didn't mean anything at all. The possibly all-male following is interesting. C'mon, we can talk about it over food, you look like you need it, and I know I do."
AlexanderHe snorts, and would possibly be amused if he wasn’t still steaming. Lucy places her hand on his shoulder and he... doesn’t pull away or intercept her hand. He does look her in the eye and nod.
Lucy suggests food, beer, talk. He nods again. “Not here, though. I just want to get away from here, and maybe shower. Several times.” So they will find food – probably something full of sugar, fat, and insanely bad for them – but no beer. At least, no beer for Alexander. He is driving after all, and he is what he is.
No comments:
Post a Comment