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[Monsterhearts] [IC/OOC] Blackwood: Episode 3 (The Darkness On the Edge of Town)
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Mika, you're going to come out with exactly what you needed and then some. A pair of books - one is the book that Judas requested you retrieve. You know it's not but you can't help but feel like the binding is made out of something alive. When you don't think about it you almost wonder if it doesn't wriggle underneath your fingers. Must be your imagination. The other is a much more simple book of biblical lore - too bad you can't read whatever weird-ass archaic language it's written in. We'll pick up with you at the graveyard. Allison Granger's casket is wide open and Mr. Black is dressed as immaculately as ever in his dark suit, presiding over the hole in the ground like a judge. He smiles as you approach. "I knew I could count on you, my dear," he says, snapping his fingers. Torches light around the open grave and other figures all robed in black step out of the shadows. "Bring me the book."
Cat, you make it to the little studio Tom has set up in his parents' guest house. What you don't expect waiting for you there is Donovan Brady. Even you sitting in your lofty social tower feel an undeniable magnetism to the guy - he's tall, handsome, enigmatic, but so approachable at the same time. Like when he grins at you it feels like he spent all day making it and it's just for you, no one else. He's leaning on the railing of the deck just staring intently at you as you get out of the car.
Torin, you spend your night tracking down just where Cat is going to be. It doesn't take you long, but along the way your phone rings again. It's Ashley. "Oh my god, Torin, there's... there's a monster, it's here, I don't know what to do, I'm scared..." she says through tears. You can hear screams in the background. You ask her where she is and she tells you the Grangers. It's an obvious choice, isn't it? You can worry about Catherine later. You arrive at the Grangers and it seems WAY too quiet and it immediately sets you on edge. You open the door and blood and pieces of people litter the floor. The only word that comes to your mind is butchery.
Selvie, your bloodlust cannot be quenched. The people in the funeral home fall underneath your savagery like wheat to the scythe. After the first few kills it's not even about the hunt, or hunger - you're just here to revel in the pain and blood and death. And revel you do. It doesn't take very long for you to empty the place, and with no more prey around you pick up another scent. Donovan's. It smells like cologne and the grave. You follow the trail to a house in the burbs much like any other. If you were in your right mind you might even recognize the cars in front of it. You enter the home and find the people there still reminiscing and grieving over Allison's death - Darryl, his wife, Ashley Magnus, the Granger family, Margaret Dansen. Their names don't matter to you right now, though - they're just prey to you. You tear Darryl to pieces first - he made you so fucking angry sometimes - following with his wife. And then the Grangers. Poor Margaret is next - you enjoy the thrill of chasing her down as she tries to climb the fence and escape. With her disemboweled you only have one more person left breathing in the house...
Michael, dearest Michael. The Lord knows that pride has always been your greatest weakness. He still has work for you yet though. Your feet hit the pavement intending to find His nearest house and ask for your forgiveness but you don't remember ever making the turn towards Pleasant Rest Cemetery. And yet here you are. You push open the gate and head inside and you know deep in your soul that this, this is the Lord's mission in front of you. "Bring me the book," you hear a voice say further in the cemetery as firelight suddenly casts a glow deeper within the graveyard.
What do you all do?
---
tags: @solar, @talonrazor, @jdarksun, @destroyah87, @rainfall
Turn Someone On (2d6=4)
What do you do?
I follow my nose - she didn't go far, didn't try to run. She's hiding. In a closet. The door doesn't matter to me, and then I'm standing over her crying, cowering form. Weak, so weak. Can't have that. I give her a little swipe, bright red blood stark against her pretty black dress. Come on, girl. Run. I do so love it when I get to chase down tasty little morsels like you.
This had to be a dream.
He pushed the car door open. In his hand he gripped his Wilson Combat Tactical Supergrade 1911 pistol in .45 ACP. It was a custom design, with celtic knotwork engravings on one side and Nordic engravings on the other. One side of the barrel sported the name he taken to calling it: Tyr. The Norse God of War. The weight comforted him, slowed down his breathing and kicked in training. He thumbed the weaponlight nestled on the rail beneath the barrel and a brilliant light stabbed into the dark doorway.
Bodypieces littered the inside. He froze. Was Ashley in that wreckage? He almost panicked. He pushed the fear, the wild sense of panic away. Instead he let the feeling, the restlessness, flood in. This was the work of a monster. He hunted monsters.
Moving inside, the stench of death hung in the air. Blood was everywhere. It wasn’t the work of a shooter but rather something big. Pieces spattlered the house. Bits of entrails clung to the walls, limbs ripped from their owners. He saw the Grangers laying on the table. The father had been torn apart. The spine trailed various organs stuck to it but was still connected to the shoulders and half of the skull. Brains dotted the dining table. The mother was just a torso now, missing the head and most of the right shoulder. Margaret Dansen was in the next room, aside smashed furniture. What could have caused this?
It was the next couple he found, near the hallway, that rocked Torin. He stared down at the body of his aunt. The beautiful sister of his mother laid across the ground, giant tears in her body through which she leaked internals. Next to her were bits of an unrecognizable body but the dark skin instantly indicated Darryl, Catelyn’s husband. Both his uncle and aunt were dead, brutally murdered. Torin stared at them. This was nothing like combat, nothing like fighting in West Gaza. Nothing like hunting down methheads skipping out on bail. This was his family. And they were dead.
Ashley. He had to find her. He had to save her. His twin. He hoisted the pistol up, moving determinedly through the rest of the house. Where was she? Where was the monster? A scream answered him. Moving like a man possessed, he sprinted down the last hall. The bedroom, there. The door had been pushed in. Torin passed it, inside. Where was she....
It stood before him. Furs, fangs, claws, everything. A living confirmation of everything he had dreamed, sketched, felt. Real, everything was. There were not dream. Everything is real. The demons, the creatures, the wolfman. The monsters. They were all real and plaguing this world. His purposes, his existence was to hunt them. All of them. He had been selected.... no.... chosen. Everything cleared in that instant. The restlessness disappeared, the feelings vanished. Only clarity remained. A sense of purpose. He had been placed here to kill it. To kill the monstrosity before him.
He saw Ashley, cowering on the floor. His sweet sister, helpless. The gun raised in his hands, automatic. Sighted, center of mass, firing angle away from Ashley. The Israeli combat training forced him to fire round after round at the beast in front of him. He would save her. He would.
Because there were monsters in this world. He hunted monsters.
Lash out physically! 2d6+2=8 So he is going to do maximum harm possible. He will also unleash His Darkest Self.
"Judas! Judas Iscariot! I am Michael, The Dragonslayer! The Prince of Warriors! Hear my voice and know fear!"
Smash the shut out of Judas: 2d6+1 8
With a roar that sounded unearthly in it's depth and magnitude, Michael leapt from the shadows into the center of the ritual. Mika turned just in time to see Judas' face crumple under the impact of his fist. Impossibly, for a moment she thought she saw great wings of golden fire and a halo of sunlight, a hyper-real overlay upon the greyer more mundane base reality, but surely it was just her imagination? Judas was rocked off his feet, slamming into the cold, hard graveyard earth.
Also looking gain Smiting gives me +1 to the roll which puts me at 9, but it makes no difference anyway. Unless there is a way to push it up again to 10. I don't think there is though.
---
tags: @destroyah87
I throw her in the corner and she curls up as small as she can, cowering into a little ball. The little black dress is now hopelessly ruined, but I doubt she cares about it at this point. She's not going anywhere, so I take a moment to check out my injury. I lick at it, try to figure how bad it is. It's bloody and painful, but I'll live. Good.
Now, what to do with the girl...
---
Grab the girl, escape through a window, run like Hell.: 2d6+2 11. The werewolf gets away, and ends up in a safe place.
"Shall we go inside?" She slipped her arm around his and went into the building like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I'm taking a String on you, Michael, for the Fallen. Also, Mika, I'm spending one on you to offer you an XP if you'd be so kind as to capture Michael.
Torin, you've just witnessed something that seemed to have been spit from the mouth of Hell itself run off with your only twin sister. The house is deafeningly silent except for the sound of your blood thundering in your ears. You might be able to track the creature but it would require something from the Magnus Library, something not of the normal world.
If you want to find Ashley you'll have to head back to your estate and dig up some kind of artifact that could help track down a werewolf.
Selvie, Ashley seems to have calmed down. In fact, you realize at this point the tears are dry as she wipes away some of the blood and the dirt. She's making very sure not to look into your eyes, but the emotion you smell on her isn't fear.
I'm having Ashley take a string on you, Selvie, as well as letting you take a string on her. This violence has given you both some fucked up insights into each other.
Cat, Donovan smiles at you. He settles at your side like it's his natural place. "Of course, Catherine. I've wanted to speak to you for such a long time," he says, and like that it's him that's leading you in to the house. You all get inside and your bandmates begin setting up the equipment as Donovan guides you to one of the side bedrooms. Tom looks up, confused. "Hey, where are you two going?" he says, and Donovan smiles again. "A private conversation with Catherine, nothing you need to worry about." It's kind of creepy because Tom's face slackens. "Just a private conversation with Cat, it's cool," he says and goes back to work.
What do you all do?
---
tags: @talonrazor, @solar, @jdarksun, @destroyah87, @rainfall
On the one hand, the avenging angel, here to save her, to stop whatever madness was about to take place. On the other... Mika bowed her head, fists clenching for a brief moment.
"I'm sorry, Michael."
Her head snapped back up, eyes pitch black as she began to chant in an ancient tongue, her voice echoing across the gravestones as black magic surged around her before lashing out at the Angel.
Elsewise Power to Hex Casting: Binding on Michael, with a touch of The Power Flows Through You for +2. Two more strings back to The Fallen (2d6+3=10)The hex works, and can be easily reversed. Michael cannot physically harm others until Mika reverses the hex.
At her mental touch, the enchantment laid by that ritual flared to life. She stumbled as her mind's eye was assaulted by visions.
Cat running through a house aflame, pursued by a man clad in medieval armor.
A burnt wreck of a car at the bottom of a snowy embankment. A strong smell of graveyard dirt, decay, and death.
The whispering wind through a dead forest, carrying words to her ears. Murderer, Hated, Bitch. The words are drowned out by a wolf's howl, very close.
And the last, Donovan with a cat in his lap. As the nightmare faded, A wet *crack* echoed up from the abyss.
Cat nearly falls as the visions leave her. She clutches Donovan's arm and stumbles, he looks down at her but keeps silent. They enter the bedroom and Catherine moves past Donovan to sprawl on the bed.
"Well, my dear. A private conversation was it? What ever shall we converse about?"
Dark (Gazing into the Abyss): 2d6-1 7 The visions are confusing and alarming and I mark 1 xp.
I move on to cuts that I inflicted, four deep gouges now covered in detritus from the flight. I start to lick them clean; short, quick laps to get out the dirt and bits of leaves. Then long, slow strokes that eventually taper off. My attention broke open the some of the scabs that had begun to form, but the injury looks much better now. Cleaner, at least.
With the metallic tang of her blood still on my tongue, I look her in the eyes. Or do my best, anyway, with her steadfastly focusing a point on the floor near my feet. I borrow a trick my other form learned, and speak:
"Does that feel better?"
Think that's worth a little healing? :twisted:
"Mika! It is not to late! It is never too late to step away from this path!" Staggering back, Michael had to lean against a gravestone to keep himself up, as the other robed figures watched, expressionless behind their hoods, and Judas sneered up at him from the grass. He looked at her, trying to express himself truly. If she damned herself, she damned him as well! He could not let either happen! What could he possibly say? He looked around desperately, and then his eyes alighted upon the gravestone...
"Alison knew, Mika! She knew what you had become! When I pulled her from that crash she begged me to save you from the choices you have made, her last hope was that her friend might be free again! But I can't do it for you, Mika. I cannot make your choices. You have to decide for yourself, or it means nothing."
Michael is going to try and turn Mika on, in order to get her to sympathise with him and deny Judas' ritual. He's going to use the awed condition and one of the strings he has to turn his -1 into a +1
Turn Mika On: 2d6+1 12
Damn, that went better than I thought. I even had a promise to make to Mika to try and get her on side! Might as well do it anyway, since it's characterful.
"If it's power you want, then what about me, Mika? I can help you gain control of your own destiny! The only thing you are being promised now is endless servitude! Deny Judas! Do not take part in this ritual!" As Mika looked down at the fallen angel, the honest pain and compassion breaking through the cold veneer on his beautiful face could not help but evoke some compassion from her, and neither could she ignore the definite appeal of such a magnificent being serving her every desire...
Come on, it's a sexy goth game! It's gotta go there!
Catherine, Donovan leans down, his hands on both sides of your head. He stares into your eyes and you feel like you're suddenly riding a stormy sea and you're going to drown and then he speaks and it's all velvet tones and muted desires. "I know what you did, kitty Cat," he whispers and like that he's kissing your neck and you can't even begin to comprehend what it's like, sure you've had guys before but never a man, the way he trails down and suddenly there's a sharp pain and you can feel the hot blood rushing to your head, bubbling out of the bite on your neck. Everything starts to become fuzzy as Donovan drinks of you, the pleasure and pain of it blending into a sweet dull haze. Then like that he's done and pulls away, his eyes afire with delight and his lips red with your life blood.
What do you guys do?
For the benefits of rules and stuff, Cat, you've just taken 1 harm from being nibbled on. Also you have a string on Donovan now.
---
tags: @jdarksun, @destroyah87
You can spend a String on another PC to:
* Add 1 to your roll against them (choose after rolling).
* Subtract 1 from their roll against you (choose after rolling).
* Offer them an experience point to do what you want.
* Force them to hold steady in order to carry out a certain action.
* Add an extra harm to whatever harm you’re dealing them.
* Place a Condition on them.
You can spend a String on an NPC to:
* Add 1 to your roll against them (choose after rolling).
* Add 3 to your manipulate an NPC roll against them (choose after rolling).
* Cause them to falter, hesitate, or
freeze up momentarily.
* Add an extra harm to whatever
harm you’re dealing them.
* Place a Condition on them.
To really manipulate people you need to get Strings on them and bribe them with sweet, sweet XPs. The Turn On from Michael there was brilliant but to get what you want you should spend that String and bribe Mika with XP. Of course, she's also been bribed by her Dark Power to capture you, but I mean, she's already collected that XP... emotions are fickle.
Mika stormed up to Michael, the dark tendrils of the hex that had Bound him still slowly evaporating from her wrists, the torchlight flickering as the black robed figures watched in silence. Not that Mika cared about them.
Her cheeks flushed with fury as she leaned in close to Michael, confident that he wouldn't be able to do anything to her she didn't want him to.
"You. Don't. Understand. Anything."
Each word was hissed through clenched teeth, her knuckles white as she gripped the gravestone Michael was leaned up against, her eyes staring into his, burning with fury and loneliness.
She leaned in just a touch closer, her body brushing against his, and then she kissed him fiercely, crashing her lips and teeth and tongue against his, indulging herself for a moment before pushing herself away and pulling her fist back, smashing Michael directly in the face.
"Don't try to save me."
Lash out physically =8 Michael takes one harm and a string on me
What do you do?
She looked at Donovan through lidded eyes, "You are fascinating. If you know what I've done, but haven't told anyone, that means you want something." She practicality purred, "Oh yes, I can work with that. So Mr Donovan Brady, what or who is it that you want?"
She pulled the tissue away and looked at it for a moment with a small smile on her face. "Do you want friends? Allies? Power? To be Feared? Or maybe," She flicked the bloody tissue towards him, as it fluttered to the floor she growled, "you just want a ready source of food."
She smiled, her eyes cold and calculating, "We could be so good together, you and I. Or I could be your worst enemy. I want to be your friend, your ally but you have to want it too."
Hot (Manipulate an NPC - Donovan): 2d6+1 5 Spending the string he just gave me to make that an 8. So Don gets to name the terms for a possible alliance. Either way, marking XP for using Hot in a scene.
Just to be clear: the promise is let Donovan take most of your gang. Then you have Dono.
What do you do?
She stops and composes herself for a moment, "You ask too much, far too much."
"Those people in the front room, they are mine. I own them, they serve me." She looks to the side and her voice is quiet now, as if she is convincing herself, "And I protect them."
Her eyes harden and she meets Donovan's gaze, "If that's your price, then I think you should leave. Now."
EDIT: because of improper use of a move as well as improper resolution of the Manipulate an NPC move.
Lazily, I relax away from her, meeting her eyes once again. "You're going to join me, be the first member of my pack. You'll know what it's like to run by my side, the moon above us, ancient power coursing through our veins. Think of it.
"A wolf, beholden only to the night... and to me."
Manipulate Ashley: 2d6+1 9. What'll it take, Ash? (Edit: Mark XP for rolling with Hot - think that brings me to 3.)
Cat, Donovan regards you coolly for a moment before he shrugs. "Fine," he says lightly and puts on his lazy tiger's grin. "Bigger fish and all that. You should put a bandage over that wound, people might start to worry." You look away and he's gone.
What do you do?
The pistol smoked in Torin's hands. The automatic responses died down. He stood alone in the night. Ashley is gone. The wolfman is real. Those two concepts slammed into him. For a moment, he gazed into the woods. Somewhere out there, the enemy had his sister. He had to do something. Instinct kicked him into gear. The pistol holstered, he rushed back inside. Grangers dead, Magnus family dead, Ashley gone, Margaret Dansen dead. A thread existed here. He sat on his haunches and stared at the hair left behind by the creature. Allison killed. She, Ashley and Mika were friends. Grangers killed, Dansen killed, Ashley gone. The thing was stalking the three girls. It made sense. The creature had killed Allison, killed her parents, killed Mika's mother and captured Ashley.
He rose. Ashley was in mortal peril. The creature would also go after Mika. He had to save them both. Allison died due to this.... hellish creature. No one else could be allowed to die. He had to slaughter the beast. But how? Torin moved back to the Chevelle. The rich leather driver's seat accepted his bulk as he sat inside. He started to go through the large black gear bag filled with his tools. Pulling out his handmade leather journal, he thumbed through the sketches and written dreams. He stopped at one sketching he did awhile back after a particularly brutal dream. The sketching matched the creature almost exactly. Above it, some notes were etched in the margins. The notes talked about the creature matching stories told in a particularly old volume stored in the Magnus Library.
Of course. The old book. That's where he could start. He slammed the journal shut, tossed it in the bag and shoved the Chevelle in reverse. It peeled out and he raced away. The book would tell him where to go next. He had to save Ashley, Mika. As he drove, the words of Ashley came back to him. She had been convinced Catherine had killed Allison. Yes, of course. Somehow, Catherine was behind the beast. She must be murdering the girls. He grabbed his phone and started dialing. Mika had to be warned. The monster could be going after her even now.
Our poor paranoid Torin is so wrong! He is going to call Mika and try to get her on the phone.
Hurt, not kill. Hurt. I laugh. Hurt is all I do.
"Done," I whisper, and pounce. I knock her down, stand over her, stare into her. I sniff her face, lick her neck. Make sure she knows who's in charge. "You can stay here, or go if you want. The road isn't far, just keep the moon at your back."
I trot to the mouth of the cave, and turn back for a moment. "Wherever you are, come when I call you."
And then I'm running, nose in the wind, hunting the prey that I've stalked since I got here. Finally. Finally.
The promise is to hurt Cat in exchange for Ash's entry into Selva's pack as a subordinate.
She closed her eyes and just breathed in and out. Even with trying to control her emotions, a few sobs escaped, "It all seemed so easy then. So Right. Where did everything go so wrong?" The unsaid thought lurking in the back of her mind would not go away, What am I becoming?
Her eyes shot open and she shook her head hard, banishing the thoughts and regrets.
A few minutes later, she walked back into the living room where the band equipment had already been set up. A fresh band-aid covered the puncture marks on her throat and she fought down the irrational urge to cover it with her hand. To hide it.
"Practice. Let's get to it. Come on guys." She smiled.