[BPRD] Makes My Skin Crawl, pt 6 [All 3.6]

edited February 2013 in In-Game
Penny and Blake,

Iiya is gone, he hasn't returned. After it became clear that Joe was hurt, but he'd survive, you left him alone with his sister and now you're outside the hotel, talking with the hotel staff, the police and nearby are the people who were in their rooms when this happened. What story are you giving these couple dozen folks?

Joe,

Your sister is here, your skinwalker sister. She's nude, covered in plaster and wood, bleeding for minor cuts and abrasions. You hear her apologizing over and over, "Joe, oh God, Joe. I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to get hurt. I'm so sorry."

Dr. Eaton,

You appear near Blake and Penny, they are in the parking lot.

What do you do?
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  • Well I don't know what Blake is telling people, but I got rather caught up in the story I'm telling this tiny elderly woman. It's a thrilling tale that involves vengeful spirits and a bitter feud over very rare, enchanted tennis shoes. I'm actually not entirely sure if she can actually hear me. She's looking at me rather strangely and she keeps adjusting her hearing aid. It's making me feel a little better though, and I'm getting quite animated, waving my hands around as my story gets more and more grandiose.
  • Well. I arrive.

    I was seeking you, Penelope, so I will appear very near to you and your young conversational partner. My arrival is presaged by an abrupt and extreme chill. The temperature of the air, already cooling in the desert night, drops at least ten degrees, and there is a flicker of blue fire that clings and creeps and trickles towards the sky. You are gesticulating, yes, and for a moment cool flames stream upward from each raised finger.

    And then I am there in fact, pale and tattered and burning - ghastly, ghostly, phantasmal. I am clearly transparent, I am washed of color, and my substance is torn into shreds that bleed out into blue-burning wreathes of mist. My left eye is naught but a marble of blue flame, and there is a bleeding blackness in my breast, as if from a terrible impaling wound.

    I am nearly unrecognizable, save for a similarity in what can be made of my build and dress, and for a familiarity in the look of my remaining eye. Beyond these things, I have become terribly monstrous.

    I see where I am, and I whisper something in a voice that is ... completely normal:

    "... Damn. Secure privacy, Penelope. Two minutes."

    And then I vanish again, leaving only frost and dying flames.
  • Penny,

    The elderly lady, her hair white, her skin leathered bronze, she freezes when Dr. Eaton appears. Four different bystanders shriek or gasp, but she merely blinks. Penny, her name is Miss Whitson. She stares openly at Dr. Eaton, who talks to you and then disappears again. She looks at you with wide eyes that seem to beg an explanation.

    Joe and Blake,

    All conversation ceased when the ghost appeared. Now people are alternatively freaking out or trying to leave. Officer Hampton looks at you, Blake, "The Hell was that?!?"

    What do you do?
  • I stop in mid-sentence when blue fire is suddenly dancing on my fingertips like candle flames. How interesting. Is this real life? Then Grandfather appears, tattered and frightening and very very injured and all I can do is stare in horror. How do you fix a hurt ghost? It's not like you can take them to the nearest Emergency Room! A million questions are all trying to claw their way out of my throat at once, but before one of them can escape, Grandfather disappears again.

    Secure privacy. Two minutes.

    Oh dear.

    Miss Whitson is giving me the I Need Answers Look. "Um, that was, just um, the, uh Keeper of the Shoes. Quite put out, you see. It's been a rather long day for him. Vengeful spirits are always so...vengeful. Um...your necklace is lovely!"

    I turn on my heel and run back towards the hotel, hoping my compliment would offset the rudeness of my sudden departure. I have my room key in my pocket and unlike Grandfather's room, all the walls are still intact. I'm hoping I can sneak back inside to "secure privacy" as I've been instructed.
  • I follow the best traditions of government agencies and MIB's giving only the barest of explanations, vaguely hinting that it has to do with National Security and the most the details are, unfortunately, classified. However the operation is concluded for the moment, and there is no danger to the civilians.

    When Eaton flashes though, I stop for moment then the officer asks about him.

    "Aftershock, Officer, from the equipment... harmless. Beyond that, I am not permitted to say."
  • Blake,

    Give me a Manipulate (your reason being your authority) on Hampton.

    Dr. Eaton,

    A couple minutes pass, I assume you reappear with Penny?

    Joe,

    Still waiting on an action, sir.
  • edited February 2013
    What happened with Penelope? Joe and his sister are still up there, correct? Is anyone else?
  • While Penny and Blake deal with the hotel staff and other residents I tend to my sister. I take her into the bathroom then grab Blake's first aid kit and tend to Doli's cuts and bruises. Since her clothes were ruined when she hulked out I get one of my shirts for her to wear. I need to take her to see Atsah. But where is Doc? Why has he been gone so long? Removing Doli's curse is going to take a lot and I'm going to need his help.
  • This is exactly why you shouldn't be leaving the explanations up to me. Penny probably would have been more convincing with one of her wild tales. But what the hell.

    #DiceRoller(2d6-1)
  • Joe,

    Let's say you're wondering where Dr. Eaton is in the back of your head. Your sister is a mess, words tumbling out of her, apologies for what she's done, for her baby, for killing the oil prospectors, all this evil. She's a warbling mess, the little sister you knew. That wall between you is broken and she's raw, cut and bleeding. You see her in the mirror, but you keep seeing that wolf, the wolf that ripped a man's hamstring so he could be kiled, the hands that smothered your nephew.

    Then you hear someone enter the adjacent room. It could be Dr. Eaton, perhaps? Hotel staff? Someone to walk in on your bleeding and barely covered sister.

    What do you do?
  • It took me one minute and twenty-three seconds to get back to my room. I try to shut the door as quietly as I can, then I halt in the middle of my room, staring cautiously at my fingertips. Are they going to light on fire again in thirty-seven seconds when Grandfather reappears? And what am I going to do when Grandfather reappears? I don't really have any spare Ghost Eyeballs lying around!

    Don't panic, Penny. He'll know what to do. I'm sure this isn't the first time he's been torn up like a breakup letter.

    Right?
  • It does seem that the coast is clear, Penelope. This time, when I appear, the flames have mostly guttered out. My eye still burns, though, and my substance is still washed out and in tatters, and the great black stain is still bleeding from my breast.

    But seeing where you have brought me, I thank you ("Thank you, my dear; excellent.") and fall on the collection of jars that I have here, spread across your table. The temperature of the room is plummeting, and the glass jars tick and occasionally crack where my fingers touch, drawing out a heavy jar of dried herbs rolled into something like small cigars.

    I find time to lecture: "Penelope, take note. This is Chinese mugwort, a borrowing from Eastern - Japanese, Chinese, Korean - medicine. It possesses a number of healing properties, particularly when burnt, and some of these properties extend even to, ahem, the dead. It bestows heat and energy, the crucial needs of -"

    I plunge a pair of the cigars into a small pot of sand and summon a mote of flame with three commanding words in a dead tongue. I never do finish my sentence.

    I do not know, Penelope, do you have any thoughts of your own on how to help or heal? I am not certain at all if they have covered that material with you, at the Bureau.
  • Use magic to heal 1-harm, which should also stabilize:

    #DiceRoller( 2d6+3 )
  • Ah, excellent. As the mugwort begins to smoke, it releases, well, heat, but also a spiritual heat, which my substance can gather and feed upon. I only heal a little from this (more rapid healing will likely require some, ah, sacrifice), but I do stabilize. I am no longer unraveling with my heat-hunger, and the black stain across my chest begins to recede, just a little.
  • Joe,

    You overhear this conversation. It is Dr. Eaton and Penny.
  • Blake,

    As you finish up your explanation to Officer Hampton, who bought your bluster, or at least agreed to warn people away from the hotel for some time, you notice there is a murder of crows on the power line watching the proceedings. One of them, you notice, has human eyes. It has Iiya's eyes.

    What do you do?
  • I'm watching the smoke heal you, Grandfather, my brow knit together like an anxious afghan. And yes, you look a little better now, but still not quite right, even by ghostly standards.

    "Do you want me to...try to help?" I finally ask, shivering. I really should invest in that Emergency Hugging Parka. I have learned a basic healing spell in my training, but I haven't really had the opportunity to put it into practice yet.
  • edited February 2013
    I scoop up my sister. The shirt is too big but combined with the sheet wrapped around her waist cover her. Her face is burried in my shoulder sobbing, just like when we were kids. I work the door open and in doing so pause to look at the reflection in the bathroom mirror. How did she and I drift so far apart?

    I kick the door open and walk out into the room. "Holy...!"
    For a second I'm torn between wanting to give him a hand and wanting to rush my sister to Atsah.

    "Let me give you a hand, Doctor."

    I sit Doli on the edge of the bed and dash back into the bathroom to get my satchel. For me, this is a first. I've never tried to heal a ghost before. I replay the terse conversations with Doctor Eaton about how wrong I was to have tried to kill him. He was absolutely right. Heck, it looks like he's suffered a lot for something that is my personal issue.

    I pull out my worn leather pouch of corn pollen and begin to cast a healing spell.

    Use magic
    #DiceRoller(2d6+2)
  • That is some help. I begin to marshal the shreds of my substance, gathering them back in and returning some shadows of color to my form. I am wreathed now less in streamers of ectoplasm, more in tendrils of mugwort smoke.

    "That is quite alright, Penelope. And do not further exert yourself, Joe. I have other means of recovery."

    Though, Joe, I suppose you must guess that I am referring to my draining touch.

    Politely, with a nod: "Ms. Johnson."

    "Where is Agent Blake? Was he also outside, Penelope? What has happened here?"
  • Dr. Eaton,

    Dolly rouses from her quiet state to ask, "What happened to Ahiga, Doctor?" She says this softly, apprehensively.

    Outside this room, it is quiet, just the hum of electricity, nothing more. The floor has been evacuated. The staff is working on finding new rooms for everyone that was staying on your floor. Luckily, the hotel wasn't fully booked. You have maybe ten to fifteen minutes before the police arrive to escort guests to their rooms to get their stuff and exit.
  • "Yes, he's...Blake is outside." I say, secretly relieved that Joe was able to help. Having never actually used a healing spell, I was rather afraid I might accidentally make Grandfather grow a set of extra arms.

    I take a breath to ask what happened to make Grandfather look like he went through a cheese shredder, but Dolly beats me to it. So I snap my mouth shut and wait, slightly apprehensively, for his answer.
  • "I took him to ... a place I know, and I confronted him. We fought, briefly, and he fled. I gave chase, but he flew in the form of a crow, and I was unable to pursue. It will take him some time to return here, perhaps a short time, perhaps a long time. I am not sure how badly he was injured, and I do not know how quickly he will orient himself."
  • Dr. Eaton, Joe and Penny,

    That answer doesn't seem to please Dolly as she replies with a simple, "Oh. Are you, all of you, going to. Kill him?"
  • I look at the crow, and walk to the edge of the parking lot.

    I pull out my cell phone and put it to my ear to cover the talking I'm doing. Don't need to freak the bystanders.

    "You need to talk to that old man, Ilya. We don't want to hurt you, but you aren't giving us a lot of options. You won't succeed. All you're going to do is destroy yourselves." I start to turn, then stop, and look at the crow again. "And leave her alone."

    I turn my back and head back inside.
  • Blake,

    You head around to the front lobby, I assume, circumventing the crowd of bystanders, hotel guests who are put out by this unexpected violence and being kept out in the cool desert night as the police sort things out.

    Do you take the elevator up or the stairs? When you get to your floor and start to head down the hallway, you see Iiya there waiting on you. He's leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He squints at you like he's trying to figure you out and says, "Mr. Blake. I know we don't have many options. But we are protecting a place that is sacred to us. It's, well, basically our home." He pauses, like he's not sure if he should say this, but then, "Tonight when you thought you daughter was lost. Did you think about killing whoever took her?" He asks it like you both know you did, "Then I think you understand. This... is our home."

    Then he smirks a bit and says, "As for Penelope, I took her first kiss, Mr. Blake. You are too caught up in your old life to have done it. If you don't do something , imagine what else I might take from her? What could be yours."
  • edited February 2013
    I fix Ms. Johnson with a frankly terrible stare, my left eye a burning ball of St. Elmo's fire.

    "We do appear to be running out of options, my dear. Here is the flaw in your fine little pack's plans, Ms. Johnson. Creatures like you, like me, we find it so easy to set ourselves above the law, do we not? What prison can hold us, what court can try us, yes? But the rule of law is more complicated than that, Ms. Johnson, and when you make the claim that your nature sets you above the law, you must also understand that you set yourself outside of its protections."

    I quote at her in best form from the Blackfriars lecture hall: "And in such condition there is no place for industry, nor culture, nor navigation, nor society, and - which is worst of all - continual fear and danger of violent death, and the life of man is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and very, very short."

    "Tell me, why should we not destroy Mr. Ahiga?"
  • Penny, Dr. Eaton and Joe,

    Dr. Eaton's pointed question strikes Dolly. She looks to you, Joe, then away, her head hanging low. She answers quietly, "Maybe you don't have a choice. We're... we're backed into a corner now, nothing left to do. But fight and die, I guess."

    What do you do?
  • "You can always cut a hole in the corner and crawl out." I say helpfully.

    I can think of at least 10 more ways to escape a corner with just a few simple supplies like bungee cords or jet packs, but I don't want to overwhelm her with ideas.
  • edited February 2013
    Bah.

    In that case, to you Joe: "Joseph. Speak with your sister."

    I turn aside, and I take up a pair of books for consultation in the other room.
  • edited February 2013
    I stand straight, arms loose.

    "I meant what I said Ilya, leave her alone. She deserves better than you. She deserves better than me too."

    "And yes, I understand how you feel. So what happens if the companies get their way? Say you all are killed, what happens?
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