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[PbP] Monster of the Week • Welcome to New Eden - "The Witching Hour"
MagicPrime
FiresideWizardRegistered User regular
FiresideWizardRegistered User regular
October 3rd, 198?, 11:59PM - Uptown Historic District, New Eden, [REDACTED]
A car pulls up in the drive of a large Victorian-style home. As the car stops, the headlights linger for a moment exposing the maroon exterior paint and highlighting the soft lemon yellow woodwork, railings and door. The car is switched off, leaving only a slight bit of orange light from inside. A portly middle-aged man opens his car door and begins to pull himself out of the car. Adjusting his glasses he reaches into a pocket, producing a folded bundle of papers. He reads the papers using the dome light of the car, then compares the address to the one nailed to the railing of the home.
He takes a briefcase from the back seat and walks up to the front door while plucking a key from the same bundle of papers. With quick jangle the door opens with an audible groan. The man takes a step in, "Hello? Miss Kincade? Are you here? Sorry I'm late, I got held up at the other estate..." After a moment of silence has passed, he shrugs his shoulders. "Well - I guess she already left..."
Entering the home he is met by a cacophony of clicks, clacks, springs and sprungs. Nearly every inch of the interior walls are covered in a vast collection of antique clocks. He opens his case and lays a stack of neatly stapled papers on the nearest table. The heading of these papers is clearly marked a list of auction lots, beside this stack he opens a business card holder setting it beside. The cards read, "Felix Alterman - Auctioneer and Estate Specialist."
His hands now mostly free, Felix turns on the light for the parlor. However, the heavy shades on the lamps provide little help through. He begins comparing his notes to the various clocks on the walls, many already featuring lot tags.
BONG! BONG! BONG!
Suddenly all the clocks in the home begin to chime the hour in unison, the sound is nearly deafening, and the surprise causes Felix to nearly fall back. He manages to steady himself on a high back chair - but drops his papers and his glasses. Taking a moment to compose himself, he notices the shape of a woman in the parlor door way. Due to the darkness, and his already bad eyesight he can't make up more than a vague shape. "Oh! Miss Kincade. You startled me. Between you and these clocks a moment ago I might not even make it to the auction." He chuckles, but the figure doesn't respond.
Felix rubs his eyes a bit. "Miss Kincade?" his voice sounding nervous now he reaches down and finds his glasses. Placing them back on the bridge of his nose, however the figure is gone. A cold row of sweat begins to bead up on his balding forehead and he takes a few tepid steps towards the opening to the hall where the figure stood. Somehow finding the courage he peaks around the corner. To the left of him the front door, which he entered, to the right nothing but dimly light hallway past the stairs and into the kitchen. Felix wipes his brow with a hanky and shrugs. Turning around back into the parlor.
When he turns, no more than a foot away stands what appears to be a woman's corpse, skin tight and drawn, with a putrid green pallet. Her empty eyes are pursed together like chapped lips and her strawlike grey hair moves wildly as she begins to howl.
Felix eyes become bigger than saucers as he instinctively backs up until hitting the hallway wall. The figure slowly starts moving towards him, still screaming. He bolts out the front door, his fear pushing far beyond the capacity to scream. The car lurches to life and is reversed down the driveway, gravel and grass flying from the rapidly spinning tires. As Felix speeds off into the distance we see the dim lights in the Victoriam home blinking wildly. *CUT TO BLACK*
https://youtu.be/06RG8rBbon4STARRING:
@Reynolds as Maxwell "Max" Maxwell, III, The Crooked
@Egos as Bastian "Felsted" Fane, The Initiate
@Fencingsax as Sammy, The Flake
and special guest @Discrider as Broker,The Monstrous
Interior - New Moon Diner, New Eden Downtown. 10:00AM. October 4th. We find Max setting at corner booth by himself. The diner is busy with the brunch crowd and an eclectic group of people litter the remaining tables and booths. The diner bar is empty aside from one portly man sitting at the end with a just a half empty cold cup of coffee. As Max finishes 'taking in' the people of the room, his vision finally comes back around to the waitress standing immediately to his left, the look on her face obviously tells him she's asked him a question and has been waiting sometime for an appropriate answer. "Well? How long until the rest of your friends gets here -- if you're solo we're going to have to ask you to sit at the bar... or a smaller table."
Please everyone establish yourself into the scene, and we will go from there.
BNet • magicprime#1430 | PSN/Steam • MagicPrime | Origin • FireSideWizard
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
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Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
Max had been keeping a mostly low profile in the diner. Last night around 1AM Max had been walking home from a late night meeting and was nearly ran down by a brown Lincoln that was practically leaving rubber marks in the middle of the road. For a brief second Max had made eye contact with the driver, a portly middle aged man with glasses. The look on his face was obvious, he was truly terrified, the kind of look you only get when you come face to face with the dark side of reality.
This morning, during his normal routine - he happened to spot the same offending Lincoln, and the same portly man sitting in the New Moon by himself. A few quarters in the pay phone and a few calls later he made his way to the booth where he now sets, keeping an eye on the man and figuring out the next step.
That was at least until Sammy came in. To use the term 'bull in a china shop' was close, but not quite enough. No sooner had the question to Max left his lips before the man at the bar made an audible jump and realized that he was the center of attention.
Yes.
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
He was about to look for Sam or Max when he suddenly heard the lone man at the bar jump up. He looked over momentarily a tad confused.
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
There was little point entering when Felsted was expecting him after all.
A couple of moments later, a dry voice drifts over Felsted's shoulder:
"Is this our, acquaintance?", indicating the round man who had momentarily captured Felsted's attention.
He bolts towards the door with quick, determined and small steps.
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
You might find I, can help you with your problem."
Broker is smiling. All teeth.
Geth roll 2d6 for Manipulation
A moment later he turns to Felsted, glasses glinting above the row of teeth, "Why, I suddenly do, feel the need for some refreshments."
Mark one XP for the miss.
The man's quick steps grow in tempo as the door gets nearer in sight. However, he makes the mistake to check over his shoulder one last time, glancing at the table with the group of people who's gaze is still locked on him. He reaches the door and turns, met with two rows of oddly white teeth, and the thin frame of Broker.
The spidery man is saying something, but the only thing the man knows is terror, and fear, and flashes of that same ghoulish creature from the old Victorian Home. He takes a stumble back, dropping his briefcase, the lock popping and the contents strewing all over the checkerboard tile floor. Instinctively, as if a reflex, the sweaty man's hand shoots up in front of him as if to push open a door. For a second Broker notices that the man is holding something, a bottle of some kind with a hot-pepper and a skull and crossbones on the label.
A loud hissing sound fills the front of the diner, the acrid smell of capsaicin fills the air. The people in the immediate area are coughing and wheezing. Broker takes a face full of the pepper-spray, his smile and good intentions turned oily orange, his vision a blurry mess.
(Take 1-Harm with Extreme Pain and you are temporarily blinded).
The close proximity of Broker means the man had also essentially maced himself, his sweaty face speckled with the bright orange aerosol. He drops the can of spray with a clatter to the rest of the pile at his feet and runs to the bathroom screaming his throat raw.
The other patrons and staff are starting to panic. The impatient waitress is reaching for the phone, some people are coughing with bloodshot faces, and others are trying to vacate the building as soon as possible.
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
He begins to meticulously clean his glasses, still smiling.
With eyes closed and streaming with water.
'If I could, impose on somebody, can I purchase a glass of milk?'
She looks over at the rest of the people at the table. "You all know him, or somethin?"
Your blindness and extreme pain subside.
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
He was pulled from his own thoughts first by the waitress and her insistent questions, and then jolted fully into the real world by Sammy's arrival. Max had to slide over as his cousin decided to sit on the same side of the booth with him, scowling as he was squashed into the corner. It made sense, if they both wanted to keep an eye on the extremely suspicious guy at the bar. But it looked strange, irritated Max, and would've definitely drawn attention. If those two hadn't appeared just a few moments later.
"...that's the guy, I-" He was cut off as Sammy's associates arrived, somehow with even less subtlety than his cousin, immediately spooking their target. Max lowered his head, rubbing his brow and covering his face with one hand, trying to process how things had gone so bad so quickly. Left alone in his corner booth once more, he finally downed his coffee in one long chug before sliding out of his seat, cigarette still firmly in place.
"Sorry about all of this." Max smiled to the waitress, removing his dark sunglasses to reveal a face that might be familiar to a few people in the diner. Although with how quickly the place was clearing out, the possible percentage was rapidly dwindling. "Has he really been here all morning? Huh..." He moved the cigarette to his hand to continue the conversation. "We're in the same line of work, kinda. I recognized him, not sure if he recognized me...I think he did some work for my father. Maxwell Maxwell? You can just call me Max, though."
Giving the waitress and any other employees his best smile, Max tried to reassure them everything was just fine. "I gave my cousin Sammy a call, he's got some big ideas he wants to pitch." Max pointed towards Sammy, who was following the bald man into the restrooms. "I was going to make some introductions, but...maybe my friend's had a bit too much caffeine and sugar not enough sleep, if he's been here enjoying your fine coffee and delicious pie all morning." Max smiled again, giving a little shrug.
"Don't worry. Let me settle our bills and we'll all be out of your way in a few minutes." Max pulled out his wallet, which contained a wad of cash that would be impressive, if it wasn't every dollar he had to his name right now. Hopefully the employees would be more interested in being well tipped than calling the cops. Max shot Bastian a look, as the only person not currently involved with the situation, cocking his head towards the opened briefcase and spilled papers. "Little help?"
Just like old times.
He immediately starts figuring the best way out, as the situation has clearly turned into a debacle.
Felsted started to gather the papers together as neatly as he could , attempting to glean anything interesting from any of them. Once he had most of them gathered, he reached for the suitcase to put them back in.
Geth Roll 2d6 to see If I see anything in the papers
Felsted and Max, mark an XP for both your misses.
The waitress on the phone, with what one would assume is the police, overhears the conversation between Max and the cute, helpful waitress attending to Broker. She tucks the hand-set between her shoulder and ear and covers one end as she yells into the back, past the cook window. "Hey -- Charlie, one of these guys out here says they're friends with that fat creeper that maced everyone. Said he's going to cover everyone's bill." There is some unintelligible reply from the back room, then she speaks again. "Yeah, he said everyone. Even the people that ran outta here coughing their lungs out. Police are on their way, too." another mumbled reply.
The waitress gathers up the spread of tickets on the back counter and stretches out the coiled phone cord to hand the relatively thick packet of green diner bills to the younger girl. She motions to Max, "Tell him he can pay at the register before he leaves."
The girl hands the bundle to Max, "Wow, that sure is nice of you to cover everyone's check like that, you must be pretty well off, eh?" she goes over to the mess of mace soaked papers on the floor and helps Felsted clean them up as best she can. She's most likely a few years younger than you both, sporting a short bottle blond flat haircut with a bit of vivid color at the tips and some large neon hoop earrings.
The collected bill is, surprisingly high for what you would expect from a diner - but the brunch crowd is typically pretty busy.
This will cause some significant issues going forward with your cash flow unless you can acquire some more money.
Felsted pilfers through the case. The papers are soaked in food, coffee and pepper spray. But you do manage to make out that the man's name is Felix Alterman from a business card, along with some lot sheets marked with an address in the Uptown Historic District. There are a few personal effects in the case, a photo of Felix and his family. He appears to have a wife and two kids, they look generally happy in the photo, Felix with his chubby face and balding head smiling beside his wife. Their two kids, looking like teenagers, sporting some brightly colored shirts. At the bottom of the case you spot what appears to be a drab stuffed yellow bird, it looks very out of place. When you touch it you get a sudden chill up your arm, and for the briefest of seconds you see from Felix's perspective. A dark room full of clocks, a form moving out of the shadows screaming, the sensation of hyperventilating as you floor your sedan in reverse down a gravel driveway. The vision washes away nearly instantly and you find yourself back in the diner. You don't take any harm, but you do drop the bird, it clatters against the floor and rolls into some unseen nook under the padded diner booth. You feel significantly stunned and it will take you more than a moment to regain your composure.
When Sammy walks into the bathroom he finds the man a blubbery mess. His face and shirt covered in a mixture of water, sweat, tears, drool, snot and pepper spray. He's laying against he far wall with soaked paper towels across his eyes, the faucet running fullblast, and starting to over-flow into the floor.
He manages to get a few words out through, "P... please... just leave me alone... I can't get it out of my head... that thing I saw... it's like it's burned in my brain..."
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
There is a boldly and clearly lit EXIT sign above a wooden door conveniently beside the restroom where Sammy followed Felix. The narrow window of the door shows a clear view of the alley behind the Diner and the street beyond. There is still a significant amount of commotion and gathering of maced patrons in the front parking lot by the main doors.
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
Sam begins to help pick him up and wiping him down with milk and rag, being careful not to get mace on himself.
"Sounds like what you saw was pretty bad. Maybe talking it through will make it seem... well less bad at least"
He made his way to the register, dutifully paying for his single cup of coffee. Along with everything else. Plus tips. His wallet was significantly lighter, which made the fact that he'd tanked another job interview last night weigh even heavier on him. By this point he was fairly certain his father and his business associates had him blacklisted, and if this hunch about the Lincoln driving businessman didn't pay off, it might be time to leave town.
Broker turns his puffy eyes towards Max; his unusually pale skin not really assisting in disguising the eyes that look like squashed tomatoes more than anything else.
"My thanks.", Broker rasps, before biting down into the sandwich.
It's then he notices Felsted with Max, picking up sodden papers.
Broker strolls over to the pair, with his measured gait.
"Perhaps you should go and check in with our friend? I can, ", Broker swoops down on the can of mace, cradling the sandwich in his other arm, "help here. I do worry what might happen if, he encounters me again.".
He flashes the front side of the card to Broker quickly before sliding it in with the rest on the documents in the briefcase . He hoped the unsullied card would stick out among the drenched documents . Especially if the man noticed a key item was missing .
“ ...The quicker we get out of here the better.”
He looked back at the booth the duck fell under , he hoped to be able to retrieve it later. It could have value .
Bending down to pick up the briefcase , assuming he was able to get most of the documents back in sans the duck- he then heads off to the bathroom.
”Would be odd if I went in there empty handed.” his eyes dart around for a bit and in a softer voice ”Tell me if you see anyone taking a particular interest in us.”
He hopes Broker is able to grasp what he’s getting at from the serious tone he takes . He then makes a clicking sound with his tongue and with an uncharacteristically jaunty smile says ”Back in a jiffy.”
He heads off to the bathroom , briefcase in hand .
Felsted's quick scan of the floor area proved fruitless, perhaps with time he could have located where the little yellow stuffed bird had rolled off to. As he passes the EXIT door he notices that the alley is still clear of people and police. Entering the bathroom he finds Sammy and Felix near the back sink. The older man seems to have himself pulled together significantly more, holding one of the milk soaked rags against his eyes.
"You're going to think I'm crazy, but just -- just hear me out. I'm an Auctioneer, I do Estate Sales. Lady by the name of Kincade from up north inherited a house from some distant aunt or something, the Bellairs Mansion
in the Historic district. Apparently she'd tried renting the place out - but the tenant pulled out of the contract. She tells me she's over it, and wants to just liquidate the assets. I go in with my warehouse crew and it's pretty standard. Old lady apparently had a thing for clocks. Tons of the things, all kinds, everywhere. Almost took us three days to tag and log them all for the lot sheet. Everything goes fine. I was supposed to meet her at the house last night for some last minute arrangements, but I got held up and didn't get there till close to midnight. She'd already gone, but I had a key. I went in to start setting up for the morning. Just a couple things, then head home."
You can tell his stress level is going up as the story progresses.
"But then, all the clocks strike midnight at the same time - I about jumped out of my skin, nearly fell, dropped my glasses... I thought I saw Miss Kincade come in near the parlor door, but no one was there. I checked the foyer to see if someone was in the house but... no one. Then I turned around to get my things and..." he starts to wimper a bit as he talks.
"I turn around and this THING is looking right at me. Closer to me than you are. It's floating about a foot off the ground, and it's skin looks like an old wallet but the color of bread mold. It's eyes are just EMPTY and all puckered up. Her lips curl up and she has these horrible teeth. She... she starts SCREAMING at me and I can't really remember much after that. I grabbed my briefcase and ran and ran, I remember getting to my car and leaving. The next thing I know I wake up here at the diner bar, half-empty cup of coffee and a few crumbs on a pie plate."
"You probably think I'm full of shit..." He takes the cloth from his eyes and looks at Sammy. The sockets are bright red from the spray, but the redness in the eyes themselves seem to be going down. "OH GOD! MY WIFE! SHE'S GOING TO THINK I'M DEAD!"
He starts struggling to get to his feet.
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
Finally composed, resolved, and somewhat relieved of his burden by his story being validated, you can already tell his mind is starting to rationalize and push what he saw to the back of his memory and eventually forget it entirely. He continues wiping at his brow with the milk soaked rag and moves past Felsted. Max and Broker catch a glimpse of Felix as he walks past and out the front door into the crowd. The sound of the people in the parking grows when they catch a glimpse of the one who started the whole situation. The police start demanding the roar to quiet down. A moment later Felix vanishes into the crowd, leading back to his mundane life.
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
"There is a stuffed yellow bird on the floor somewhere near here" He points around the booth area " I wouldn't touch it with your bare hands if you find it."
Felsted's eyes dart to outside the restaurant, watching to see how close the cops were to entering
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
Along with that roll you need to actually describe in detail how you're searching for it.
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
Having gained the prize you seek. You gather up one another, and leave out the back door. As far as you can tell no one has noticed, nor are they looking for you.
Critical Failures - Havenhold Campaign • August St. Cloud (Human Ranger)
For the moment he just stood out back, finishing his cigarette in the alley, pondering the merits of staying to see how this played out versus simply disappearing.