2021.09.18 Chain Of Title

2021.09.18 Chain of Title
Colombe investigates a promising lead on real estate from her financial team, finding much more than she bargained for in a decrepid old mansion, straight out of a horror film.
IC Date	2021.09.18
Players	Colombe, Zago
Location	Prospect
Spheres	Vampire Ghoul Wraith

It's a warm, breezy evening tonight in Prospect, with nary a cloud in the sky. Dry, warm air rushes past outdoors, tinged with the smell of the sea. Colombe receives an email from her financial team, a real estate investment tagged as 'Special Interest - Top Review' for her benefit. The file appears to be rather large, likely containing images.

Colombe eyes the email, before clicking it. She must be on the deck at Emerald Plaza, enjoying her work in the moonlight. She is dressed casually, wearing a grey dress and high-heel black shoes.

This one has dollar signs all over it. A piece of property about three miles off of a state highway, your financial team has just acquired a piece of property three miles away from the interstate, one that could with some polishing beckon wealthy investors to build a well-placed distribution and shipping complex. The decision to buy this property was a steal for what this is worth, and the language of the team who wrote it is tentatively proud of the find. They do note one thing, though: there is a large, abandoned home there, along with various neglected sheds and rusted junk. They haven't gotten an estimate on demolition costs yet, but have suggested that you see the place for yourself, and determine the state of the home.

Colombe replies --- she will check the place out ASAP. Her team knows she has high standards, and if she is disappointed, heads will roll. Not literally. She just fires people. She closes her laptop, and looks out over the city before standing, and going upstairs to change into something more practical. In about a half hour, she is in a short black limousine, being driven to the property by her bodyguard, Emile.

The trip takes Colombe north, out of Prospect and into greater Prospect County's more rural regions. Colombe's driver turns on the windshield wipers as they ascend into wooded country, and a fog descends onto the windshield. The limo's windshield defogging is Ventrue-grade, offering perfect clarity of vision into the roiling, foggy air outside. They slip like a slick, dark spot through a bubble in the mist, travelling with them. It takes longer than anticipated to get to the site, thanks to the weather. All due precautions are taken, putting efficiency aside for safety. The shift down in speed seems to linger on the ethereal quality of the place you're in.

Colombe watches the outside pass by. She is not multi-tasking; she is putting all of her thought into checking the property out. Her hands are folded in her lap as she stares, intently, out the window.

After an hour and fifteen minutes of driving, leaving pavement for gravel and then dirt roads, Colombe and Emile arrive at the property. Driving in through the potholes tests the limits of the limo's shocks, and where the road even is seems challenging to navigate through the uniform coating of pine needles on every surface. Tall, bristling pines lend their sharp scent to the persistent breeze, the fog rolling through the trunks like gentle waves in your limo's headlights. 

Once Emile takes the last bend around the treeline, the property comes into view. It is identifiable as a large and rural private home dating to 1895 CE, with the typical Queen Anne architecture and all-wood facade, built to be about three stories. The file further mentions that the property's former owner, Cayhill Bradley, at one point opened part of his home as a small resort and spa in 1899, but closed it in 1908, living there until his death in 1913. Since then, the land was bought and repeatedly sold, or held for years and left to the weeds for about as long. Despite the land's potential value, this mansion has simply remained. 

Almost all of the paint that was once on this once-grand mansion has flaked off, the wooden facade sags with dry rot. Weeds grow tall where they were not smothered by the ever-present pine needles, and the ever-present rush of the wind sounds in the broken windows. The double doors in the front seem to be the only fixtures that remain functional.

Colombe steps out and rests a skeptical gaze on the decayed manor. In her mind, she is making a checklist: estimates for complete demolition, permits for said demolition, and most importantly, verify no heritage home status. Still, there is something charming about the crumbling structure that was once a stately home and, briefly, resort and spa. Maybe there is something to salvage after all. As Emile closes the door behind her, she walks toward the inevitable stairs, and ascends toward the shrouded front door that is so essential to the Queen Anne architecture.

Emile helpfully hands over a sleek LED flashlight to Colombe, if she wants it, following up the stairs to the front door. The gallery shields them from the rushing breeze above, though the shadows are all the deeper here. Emile turns on his flashlight and switches it over to red, the better not to bother Colombe's night vision, and sweeps the gallery porch before nodding once to Colombe, affirming that they're clear. He will then step over to the door and try it, shining his flashlight on it as he attempts to open it. After some manhandling, he will manage to open the door, leave it open for Colombe, and head inside first.

You lose one Willpower

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Colombe rolls Perception(3) + Alertness(3) (6 dice) vs 8 for 2 successes. 1 3 3 +8 +10 10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

Colombe takes the flashlight --- she follows Emile in, one look back before she looks forward, as she enters the house.

Everything here is either peeling, broken down, rotting, moldy, or crumbling. A pile of splintered furniture now plays host to a massive bed of ants, crawling in the dark. Gauzy cobwebs hang in the corners and across the ceiling. Roaches, alive and dead, litter the floor. The layout itself is expansive, empty space filled with darkness and grime. The air inside is stale and laden with rot, easily ten degrees warmer than outside. Sheets of rain begin hissing against the walls, sending drops of moisture trickling through the building from top to bottom. 

One moment, you hear it. The sound is faint behind the hiss of rain, but unmistakable: upstairs, heavy, booted feet tread. How many times is uncertain.

Colombe shines her flashlight up toward the ceiling --- not that it does much. She looks to Emile, and he nods. He pulls out his hand-gun, as she calls out, loudly enough to be heard. "Hello?"

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> ZagoST rolls 8 vs 4 for 5 successes. 2 2 2 +7 +8 +8 +10 +10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

No human voice answers Colombe. Instead, the winds outside begin to shriek as the storm seems to take on new life. Rain floods in from the broken windows and damaged walls, quickly beginning to pool up. In just a few minutes, Colombe will not be able to keep the stuff on the floor out of your footwear, and neither will her bodyguard.

"I think I've seen enough." Colombe gives Emile a wilting glance, accompanied by an unamused smile. "Let's go." She turns, and heads to the door, to return to the car.

Emile looks outside, and says, "We should wait in the car until this passes. Or-" 

With a sudden crash, a large piece of furniture falls through the ceiling and lands directly on top of Emile, sending him through the brittle hardwood floor and into the mud beneath this rotten pile of a house. Though his body is broken, it is nothing vitae can't fix, and he already appears to be stabilizing even as he remains unconscious from the shock.

Colombe remains calm. She brushes some debris off of her black silk top, and looks up through the hole in the ceiling as she moves, with deliberate care, closer to Emile.

The storm outside howls and seethes, buffeting the abandoned structure around Colombe as she vaults down. Her feet plant in mud up to her ankles immediately, but she is able to get close to Emile. The weight of the armoire landed directly on his chest, pushing his ribs into his lungs. Were it not for the Blood and Fortitude, he would certainly be dead from this. He has managed to repair enough of his body to remain stable, but he remains buried in mud up to his shoulders, with an antique armoire made of oak landed squarely atop him, and he is insensate from pain.

Colombe is not the strongest Kindred. That said, she is in possession of potent Ventrue blood. As her fingers go below the armoire, attempting to lift it, a flush reaches her face, and recedes; she looks stronger. But will she be strong enough.

<OOC> ZagoST says, "On the scale of Feats of Strength, I'd put this one at an eight. If your combined Strength+Athletics+Potence can reach eight, you can lift the armoire off of him. Otherwise it'll be a tough roll."

You lose one Blood You lose one Blood You lose one Blood

<OOC> ZagoST says, "You can burn up to Strength 6, but have to spend a blood a turn to keep it at 6."

<OOC> Colombe says, "She has Strength 3 and Athletics 2, no Potence. So, she has 8 dice with the blood spend. :)"

<OOC> ZagoST says, "She lifts the armoire successfully, and can hurl it up onto a more stable part of the floor above."

Colombe's brow furrows as she plants her feet. The armoire is a beast --- this won't be easy. She looks down at her cousin, and with a loud exclamation, she strains against the reality of her physique and launches the 400kg piece of furniture up, onto a more stable part of the floor above. There is no need for her to heave, but it did take something out of her. She looks up to the ceiling while she kneels next to Emile, cutting her wrist, and allows the blood to flow into his mouth.

You lose one Blood

Lightning flashes while Colombe peers into the darkness above, illuminating the silhouette of a hooded cloak, peering directly down the hole at Colombe and Emile. The ghoul jerks his flashlight up reflexively, but there is nothing there. Maybe there never was?

Colombe is not one for imagining things, and neither is Emile. She gets a chagrinned look. "Shadows and mischief. This could be a rogue Nosferatu, or some other wayward Kindred." And therefore, should be investigated. She flashes her light around. "Maybe there's a way to get upstairs."

It is possible to clamber up onto the floor, with Emile wincing from muscle soreness but otherwise whole. It would also be preferable to be out from under the house, as ants, fleas, and other biting vermin have begun attempting, albeit fruitlessly, to tear your flesh. From back on the floor in the house, a central staircase leads up to a second floor and a suite of rooms, though some of the stairs look tenuous on the way up. Through it all the storm continues to rage, a localized howl of fury all around them. It's now loud enough to require raising one's voice to be audible.

Colombe takes a moment to offer Emile more blood, and time to heal, before they head up the stairs. She is characteristically calm, stepping carefully to avoid the questionable stairs. Emile is less chill. The howling winds outside --- and getting crushed by an armoire --- has him a bit strained. He maintains a watchful, paranoid eye on the environs, heart-pounding, and follows carefully in Colombe's footsteps. When they reach the second floor, Colombe shines her light methodically toward the rooms, specifically the one that would seem most likely to be the one from whence came the armoire.

You lose one Blood You lose one Blood

The second floor is much like the first in the state of decay, but there is no standing water here, nor are there any surprises, as she searches the rooms looking for the one the armoire broke through. The freak storm-winds outside shake the timbers of the mansion, denying a sense of stability to the Ventrue. Searching reveals bedrooms with moldy carpet and closets, many of which are stuffed with unrecognizable, waterlogged junk and waste. It's then that Colombe finds the second floor master bathroom, and are able to peer into the hole in the floor where she and Emile were, not too long before. A look up will dispel any confusion as to why there was an armoire that size in the bathroom, as there is a hole in the third floor the same shape. The armoire fell two floors, not just one.

Colombe peers up through the other hole. "Interesting." She looks to Emile. He is a large, experienced body man, a half-century old at least, but this place is starting to get to him. He replies, "Maybe we should go back --- get some backup." Colombe shakes her head. She looks around. "Whoever it is might not be here when we return." She has a thought. As she looks for away upstairs, she starts speaking in low squeaks, summoning forth any rats that might be in or near the house.

<OOC> Colombe says, "Beckon. Charisma+Survival vs 6?" <OOC> ZagoST says, "Beckoning is that yes." <OOC> Colombe says, "Yes. :)" <---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Colombe rolls Charisma(5) + Survival(2) (7 dice) vs 6 for 2 successes. 1 2 4 5 +6 +7 7 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

In response to the power of the Blood, about twelve rats wriggle out from under floorboards, come running up the stairs, or even drop from the ceiling to attend Colombe. They seem to be okay with her being around, at least, but are interested in being in this spot right now thanks to her power. These are rats of a wilder mindset, so with no dumpster buffet at hand at all times they are sharp and hungry.

Colombe reaches out an lovely pale hand toward one of the wild rats, inviting it to climb her arm, so that she can look into its eyes, and have a little chat. Emile is already checking his pockets for food. "I have a... snickers bar." He smiles briefly, a bit embarrassed, in spite of his trepidatious heart. Colombe glances warmly to him, then looks intently to the rat, expression relaxing as she attempts to make a connection.

"Hello there." She begins. "Is this your home?"

The rat squeaks its reply. "Nest is here," it says.

"Have you seen the cloaked figure that also lives here?" Colombe asks. She speaks in a soft, beguiling squeak, and it is clear that this is her milieu --- she relishes tapping into her beast, she seems almost to radiate with it.

The rat twitches it's ears in confusion when asked about a cloaked figure. "Two leg," it says. "One here." It climbs closer to Colombe up her arm, its fur particularly smelly this close. "Two leg, fog man. Made of fog." It's a bit eager to please, especially at the smell of the Snickers bar. So are the other rats, of course, who are intently eyeing Emile now.

Colombe regards the rat intently, brow furrowed slightly. "Fog man. That is interesting." She reaches toward Emile with her free hand, and he hands her a piece of the Snickers. "Has the fog-man been here long?" She holds the chocolate in her cold, marble fingers.

"He's here," the rat squeaks softly. As one, the heads of the rats all turn as one to look into the open doorway. Their gaze does not move.

Colombe's gaze shifts to the open doorway, breaking the empathic link between herself and the smelly rat.

There's nothing there, and the flashlight quickly proves it, even walking around and checking under the furniture proves it. There's no one there. After a few moments, the rats will turn their attention back to the Snickers bar, or just begin milling about again.

Colombe gives the helpful rat the piece of chocolate, for its trouble, before she starts walking around, slowly searching for the elusive figure. "Hello? Is there someone there?" She steps deftly around a mouldering pile of books. "You don't have to hide. We just want to talk."

<OOC> Colombe says, "For kicks, maybe I'll try using Awe." <OOC> ZagoST says, "If you want, go for it." You lose one Willpower

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Colombe rolls Charisma(5) + Performance(4) (9 dice) vs 7 for 6 successes. 2 5 6 +8 +8 +8 +9 +9 +10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

<OOC> Colombe says, "Per Ventrue clan book, I will spend a willpower to prevent Emile from being affected." <OOC> ZagoST says, "Sure thing."

You lose one Willpower

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> ZagoST rolls 7 vs 8 for 0 successes. 1 3 6 6 6 7 8 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============-------------> <---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> ZagoST rolls 8 vs 4 for 4 successes. 1 2 3 +5 +6 +8 +9 10

In response, the walls around Emile and Colombe begin to give off the stench of black mold. Shining a flashlight on it reveals that there is now black mold grown into the walls. It is grown in the shape of letters, and words, one on each wall. Four short phrases. 

YOU ARE MONSTERS 

ONE LIKE YOU KILLED ME 

LEAVE THIS PLACE 

LEAVE ME ALONE

Colombe was... not expecting that. Her lips part gently as her eyes move from wall, to wall, to wall, to wall. Emile's eyes widen and he instinctively lifts his handgun, ready to fire at basically anything. She gives Emile a side glance, and he shakes his head. She looks deliberately around the space. Still, there is a dialog. And don't Ventrue love to talk. "I will leave. But first. Why are you here?" Seems she has caught on, at least a bit. "Should you not have moved on?"

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> ZagoST rolls 8 vs 4 for 4 successes. 2 2 3 3 +5 +7 +8 +9 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

Lightning flashes, blindingly bright. Thunder booms, deafeningly loud. The storm outside renews its fury, aged roof shingles flapping in the tempest. The air takes on the tang of blood, tainted with sickly sweet rot. Decayed ichor flows down from the ceiling instead of rain. Two short phrases and one longer phrase form on the walls from nauseating, rotted bloodstains. 

I WILL NEVER LEAVE 

THIS IS MY HOME 

YOU CANNOT TAKE MY HOME AWAY FROM ME

As the storm wails and the room assumes that spoiled sanguinary savour, Colombe's gaze intensifies, and Emile moves closer toward her, his gun hand more than a little shaky. She considers the bloodstained walls, dripping with dark purulence. "I see." She takes a pause. "I am so sorry to have disturbed you, this evening." That was sincere. "We will be off. I do wish you a good evening." She remains where she was, awaiting a response. Emile is quite ready to bail; still, he waits for Colombe to give the word.

There is no response forthcoming. Once you and Emile step through the door in this room, however, you feel a moment of unsettling disorientation before you suddenly find yourself outside, in front of the front door, as if you had just walked out. The storm seems to have mostly abated now. The farewell the Ventrue receive here is cold rain and the howling of wind through the pines.

Colombe slides into the back seat of the limo, and Emile makes ready for a swift departure. As she reaches for her cell phone, her eyes rest intently on the dark mansion as she quietly makes a call. "Yes, hello. Mr. Giovanni." A pause. "I think I have something that may be of interest to you. Shall we meet to discuss?"