2023.09.19: The Haunted Haven
| The Haunted Haven | |
|---|---|
| Ever Changing and MistSeekers set out to deal with necromancer vampires and free ghost slaves as a chiminage quest. | |
| IC Date | September |
| IC Time | Afternoon |
| Players | Pancake Irsa Rhapsody Evan Kaz Jackie Stephen Abril |
| Location | Nowhere, Nebraska |
| Prp/Tp | Directly follows The Abyss quest |
| Theme Song | [link - name] |
So, a week after the intrepid band of suckers, I mean heroes, returned from escorting Iris in the Abyss, she gets everyone back together for the last leg of the journey: killin' some dudes that are enslaving some other dudes. Iris lets everybody get met up and junk, then opens a moon bridge that lets out into... Corn. Just... shit stacks of corn all over the place, ready to smack a dude as soon as they step out of the bridge tunnel. Corn is planted close together, you've seen horror movies, you know how it is. Ready to whap and trip and try to hide people from each other. The climate is pretty good, sunny and mostly cloudless, pretty warm mid afternoon.
Kaz exits the moon portal to be greeted by a corn stalk to the face. He swats it aside in annoyance he tries to look around only to get two more to come back at him. He grunts in irritation and moves to the side as he looks around for threats in the nearby area. "What should we be expecting, Mercy?"
Evan grins and looks around at all the corn and hums a little Rogers and Hammerstien. But softly, he doesn't know for sure where they are in relation to the enemy so he doesn't want to blow it. He can't help himself entirely though.
"Maize... we're in maize," Abril says, without much amaizement and more just a statement of fact. It's not the weirdest place she's been even in the past month or so after all. "Their relatives must have given many offerings if this is maize of the dead."
Stephen sputters a little when he steps off of the bridge and is rewarded by a face full of corn. He stops and rears back a little, frowning as he looks around, then murmurs, "I think I have seen this movie..."
Irsa curses as she practically runs into the others. "What th'.. are we on a set for a 'Children of the Corn' remake or somethin'?" She looks around, taking in the sight. "Where we at, exactly? And who's th' target?"
Rhapsody walks out into the field of corn and has to whisper, "If you build it, they will come." she nods to Stephen about that.
"Ack!" comes Mercy's voice a little to the left of the portal, flailing her hands in pitched battle with an ordinary stalk of corn. "Um..." she begins in answer to Irsa, " Uh.. Where the fuck are we... Someone climb someone!" She's searching her bag for her compass, but... Yeah she doesn't have that any more. Fuck.
Kaz is pretty tall so he shrugs and crouches down in case someone wants to climb on his shoulders.
Evan will totally climb Kaz, his sense of balance is okay and his danger assessment is meh so it seems like a great idea. Up he goes.
Abril keeps her feet on the ground seeing as her geography knowledge is... limited to say the least.
Rhapsody stays down too, and instead looks up to the sky to see if she can identify anything that direction at least.
Irsa is tall, sure, but definitely not tall enough to see over these corn stalks. This ain't your tia's backyard maize patch. She keeps an eye out, just in case He-Who-Walks-the-Rows makes a surprise appearance or something.
Stephen cranes his head a bit to try and get a better look, but ends up offering Evan a hand to help him steady on Kaz' shoulders, "If you tell me all you see is Corn as far as the horizon, then I suppose this is going to be a very strange trip."
Kaz grunts and stands up slowly once Evan climbs on his shoulders. "What do you see, brother?"
Evan looks around for a bit and peers off into the distance, mouthing 'what the fuck' before he starts laughing and scrambles down "Well North of here is a small town, with my pack sister's chosen nemesis Golden Corral. South is more corn and further on even more corn. East is a bunch of trailers and a satellite dish. And West....." dramatic pause "Is a house that matches the image the Maidens showed us. Our target."
Irsa perks up her ears. Golden Corral, lair of the greatest and blandest of evils: food with no spices. Oh, the visions of carnage that run wild there. "One or two-story house?" she asks Evan.
Kaz 's eyes narrow slightly at Evan's words, "Golden Corral..." He lets out a quick growl as his hand inches towards the large knife on his belt. "They are lucky our target is elsewhere."
Rhapsody mms, "So West it is. Then later, Golden Corral."
Stephen tilts his head, "That is the eating place Ashkii spoke of, yes?" Slowly he nods at Rhapsody, thinking she has the gist of it, "Which way west, specifically, again?"
"That's probably the place." Mercy says, "I mean unless there's crappy manors like all over the place. Head there and check it out?" she asks, hooking a thumb in that direction and starting off at a walk. "Alright so, on our way there, info dump." she adds while battling the corn jungle, "There's a vampire, and it's got minions, which probably do fiddly things with ghosts and stuff also. They've got a couple wraiths held hostage. What we need to do, aside from kill everybody, is find their fetters. Their... Special meaningful object, basically. And bust up any weird ritual lookin shit that might be binding them to the place. That'll set them free to move on and do what they're supposed to do. They're probably going to have to fight us on behalf of their captors. Any questions?"
Kaz crouches down again to let Evan get down easier. "So... Kill everyone and break everything?" He asks warily unsure that an elder would truly give such an order.
Evan shrugs at Irsa "Two and a half, ish? I see two floors of windows and there's enough space for an attic but I don't know for sure how much." Then to Stephen "Jackie first, then Kaz. Then Ashkii." He nods to Iris and grins broadly "Is there a particular procedure for disposing of the bindings on these Fetters or anything? I get that if they're important we probably don't want to just smash everything and burn the whole place to the ground. But...rules of engagement would be handy yeah?"
Irsa listens closely to Mercy as they travel. "Meaningful.. like, a necklace their kid got 'em for Mother's Day, that kinda thing?" She grins at Kaz's question. "Need to take a look outside. See if they got bindings outside th' place and disable 'em. Silent an' quick strikes against targets. But we'll know for sure when we actually get there. For now, I suggest stealth all th' way."
Stephen trudges forward, shifting his attention to absorb the information Mercy is spewing out, "Is there...an easy way to detect when an item is one of these fetters? Or, I mean, should we just start smashing anything that MIGHT be one? Most of us ARE wolves. We do 'smash' pretty well...."
Abril's been listening. And she's been looking. "Don't start fire right away. Flat land. Mortals see, come with big loud trucks and put out, no good. Maybe in middle of fight, even more no good. I agree stealth. Maybe break up rituals before even know we're hitting them? Less trouble for us?"
Throatcrusher shifts to his natural dark furred wolf form as the call for stealth is made. As they get closer he starts to walk slower and pick his steps more carefully.
Rhapsody is with Abril, "Stealth for sure. Hold off on fire until they are dead and then can light bodies. Remember - wood can stake a vampire at least. Hopefully we can figure out the fetters as we go. We need to get closer and sense things first."
"Just make sure the fetter is okay, mostly. And kill and smash everything ELSE!" Mercy says, "I'm going to be leaving you when we set in, and go to the shadow lands to try and help from that side, and get the info you need on what the thing is and possibly where to find it."
The corn just suddenly stops at the edge of a large, square shaped property that's weedy and overgrown with dry grass that comes clear up to the hip. There's some rusty old playground stuff in the back, a dead tree in front, an old shed, water pump shed, it's all pretty basic house stuff. No old cars or anything though. The house is less of a manor and more of a rambling, added on over time homestead in bleak greys, all the paint flecked off ages ago. The front porch sags and the windows and siding have a lot of cobwebs and other bug and weather damage. The window glass is caked with dust and grime. Just clipped right on out of a horror movie, and looks totally abandoned.
Stephen considers that for a moment and nods, dropping himself down to take on his furrier self, feeling more comfortable sneaking around on four legs with better hearing, slipping along after Throatcrusher as Iris leads the way. He slows up at the edge of the field and sniffs the air for warning signs while they look the house over.
Irsa shrinks down to lupus, flattening herself in the grass as she slinks along. >> Quiet. Not-seen. Clever. << she growls at the others.
Evan also melts down into wolf form to be sneaky sneaky with his pack. Having listened to the instructions he goes to crawl low through the grass and keeping a look out for danger.
While others are shifting down to lupus, Abril takes a look about the place, stepping on tiptoes as if she can see the two-ish storied manor from here. She keeps to her homid form though. Wiggling fingers a little experimentally as if she might need those.
Protector-of-Hope follows suit and falls into her lupus form as well. Time to sneak sneak! She'll keep low and move around a bit to the right of the others to see what else she can sense - but not far just a bit over.
Throatcrusher chuffs at his alpha's unspoken command and begins moving quietly along the perimeter looking for anything off and sniffing the air for the same.
Jackie stays low and quiet on the approach, sticking between the rows of corn and trying to not disturb them. "Think they're clever enough to lock the doors?"
There's a lotta bugs in the grass. Not, like, more than usual, but the usual amount is still a lot. Grasshoppers, moths, the occasional bee. The lupus are probably fine with it, maybe the homids too, but Jackie might have a problem with it depending on her feelings about being touched by tiny things. And congratulations, you have snuck up on an abandoned house! Probably. Nothing happens, at any rate. It's closed up pretty tight, it'll take a little effort to see into the place through it's windows. Assuming there's some circling around rather than standing around, there IS a door to a storm cellar, but it's chained up tight.
And for Jackie's benefit: We're at a spooky house surrounded by corn outside a little bitty town that also has a Golden Corral in it. Vampires, minions, wraiths held hostage, Mercy's going to the shadow lands to help from there, and will try to help guide the crew to where the wraiths fetters are. Smashy smashy stab stab.
Abril comes to a stop near the storm cellar, all chained up tight like that. "If I had problem with sun... that's where I'd stay." She whispers to whoever is close by.
Broken Fang skirts around the edge of the field looking for more obvious signs of life (or UNlife) and activity, with the only sign that the house ISNT abandoned being the chained up cellar. He doesn't try to make a sound to communicate but shoulder checks Throatcrusher and nods his head at that while eyeing the back of the house. I mean, maybe someone left the back door open?
Throatcrusher grunts quietly at Broken Fang's bump. His eyes narrow at the chained up door. >>Should check above for danger before going below<<
Collector-of-Tales nods in agreement with Abril and sniffs at the storm cellar >>Or where they chain up their zombies. I've seen that story.<<
Ragged Brown Wolf pokes an inquisitive bee away with her snout and slinks closer. Her muzzle crinkles in agreement with Abril. >> Below or above. Not all of us will fit in one entrance. The earth-door is chained and will make the most noise. All openings will make noise, the windows will be the easiest to get in. << She looks up on the roof, checking for a chimney or other entrances.
Jackie heads towards the cellar door, slipping a set of lock picks out of her jacket pocket. "I'll get started on the lock, so we can get in quieter if we need to."
Other entrances include a front door and a back door. Upstairs and downstairs has windows, and there's a couple for the attic-loft area. The wind whistles through splintery wood eves. Meanwhile, Mercy takes off with Branton and leaves the kids to their fun.
Ragged Brown Wolf moves to block Jackie as the Fenrir moves towards the cellar door. >> Wait. There is a mark here, do you see? On the frame around the door. There is a mark for force and for fire. << She growls softly, ears going back flat.
Collector-of-Tales is waiting for the go word, still by the storm cellar door and occasionally sniffing at it to see if he can figure out what might be beyond it.
For sniffy wolf noses: It smells like old and damp, kinda unpleasant in a musty, mildewy sort of way.
Broken Fang grunts a little at Throatcrusher and bobs his head, rumbling a little >> When group is ready, we go in back door and clear and look for stairs down? Smell for Wyrm...<<
Ragged Brown Wolf shifts back to her homid form and rummages through her things. She doesn't have everything in there, but she does have a few things -- tools are laid out on the grass as she pokes around. "Try this. Standard chisel. But it might blow up, so be careful." Ragged Brown Wolf clearly doesn't mean the tools, that would be wild.
Throatcrusher looks to his alpha and then to Protector-of-Hope clearly communicating to them with no words. He grunts and then sits on his haunches as he waits.
Jackie takes a step back, then three more before any 'Splosions start happening.
Ragged Brown Wolf nabs up her things and shifts back to lupus, ducking out of sight of the door. Explosions, ya'll.
Collector-of-Tales makes sure he's back behind the others, away from things which might explode but hopefully where he can still see it happen.
Protector-of-Hope keeps back with the others, keep cover just in case something happens.
Abril is standing, watching and more importantly //listening// as folks debate which way to go. As Irsa warns the kin about possible explosions and Jackie steps back, the still finger-having lupus steps forward. "Just hit at joint on lock?" She asks for advice at least before she tries to dare the possible explosion.
Ragged Brown Wolf pads forward with Abril, nudging her head to look at the marks. >> There, around the door. See? Those marks there, that look like squiggles. They are for fire and force, you might be knocked back. Stand to one side if you can, on one side of the door. Do you see what I mean? <<
Throatcrusher shifts back to his long haired human form. He takes the chisel and moves to the markings Irsa had indicated. He holds the chisel up to the marking and shifts to a larger neanderthal man with a dark uni-brow. He stands to the side and draws his knife and uses the pommel of it as a hammer on the end of the chisel to strike the markings seeking to destroy or deface it.
Abril does indeed see the markings as Irsa points them out. As Kaz steps up to take the other side, Abril looks to be taking the chisel to the Fire Squiggle.
Ragged Brown Wolf ducks out of direct line of fire. Right back to Jackie, they can chill in the bushes or something.
The shifters take cover and the world falls silent, waiting for that fateful strike of chisel against stone to chip away the occult carvings that may or may not warn of some deadly fireball trap on the cellar door. Aaaaand... nothing happens aside from a spark and a puff of smoke as a bit of concrete is lobbed off. If you have the Awareness skill or something, there's a little pop of magic as the spell trap is disarmed, but no explosion. This isn't exactly quiet, though it is just one loud PLINK! But theoretically you can get that lock picked now without worrying about the door exploding.
Plink... Plink. Vandalism is surprisingly easy. Abril doesn't catch a face full of fire... yet. But as for the lock itself, she points her chisel at it and nods to Kaz before stepping back. Time for some Ahroun Smashing?
Broken Fang hunkers down a bit, expecting some sort of (gratifying) Earth-Shattering BOOM! but at the 'plink', straightens back up and shakes his fur out, >> Going to hear us now. In? <<
Jackie glances up and over the creepy house again. "Ok, do you want to sweep the house first, or should I get started on the Bee and Eee portion?"
Protector-of-Hope feels the disappointment a tilts her head to the side at the lackluster plink. Then rights her head and chuffs lowly >> Should open door. Be ready. <<
>> Bee thing, << Hammer-Tooth rumbles. >> They will defend this entry. We need to find binding things for ghosts, important things to them. The Elder said they only serve because of those things. I do not want to split up, but if the cellar is to small for all of us the rest can go through windows. Inside and see.<<
Collector-of-Tales is waiting by the door and fidgeting some, eyeing both his pack leader and Kaz. The tip of the spear is not his place.
The lock picks easily enough, it's a good lock but there aren't many out there that can resist the tickle of a pick for long. The heavy but old wood doors do not explode when opened, but the hinges do squeal ominously. Sunlight illuminates a flight of concrete stairs leading down into a dark cellar, its lowest step submerged in old, standing water. The basement is a cluttered mess of a maze, generations worth of crap stored down here in jumbled or precarious stacks. Shelves are aged and bowed under the weight of boxes and antiques. It's completely silent down here and almost but not quite pitch black.
Jackie steps back from the open door to get out of the way of the vanguard, making a mental note to get a pocket sized can of WD-40.
Throatcrusher makes a disgusted face after sniffing the air coming out of the cellar. Knife in hand he looks to his Fianna packmate to follow behind him and stalks down the stairs quietly. Pausing at the bottom when he hits the water he scans the area with his eyes and nose.
Abril winces just a little at the squeak. And nose wrinkles at the musty smell coming from the cellar. But seeing as there is now a big doorway shaped beam of light into otherwise darkness, "We need light..."
Collector-of-Tales will conjure a will-o-wisp of light to send ahead with the breaching team, so they can see where they are going.
Broken Fang trots forward to hang back after the first few wolves have gone in, looking back at Protector of Hope before nodding and tentatively heading in and downstairs.
Ragged Brown Wolf wrinkles her muzzle as she takes in the sight and smells. She follows after Throatcrusher and Protector-of-Hope. Her focus is on looking for binding things for ghosts, and any ambushers lurking in the water trying to tackle her and Jackie.
Protector-of-Hope chuffs quietly to the others as she gets a sense here. >> Not alone. Graves... blood... leeches may be underneath. <<
Jackie follows carefully at the rear, not liking the look of this place even with mundane senses.
House broken into, Abril slips on down to lupus form to follow in middle of the pack, clearly on edge. At Rhapsody's warning, she begins sniffing at the floor of the cellar itself, looking for signs of fresher tilled earth/graves.
Broken Fang grumbles softly, >> All rotted and dead, but don't smell anything moving << and makes a few distasteful movements with his tongue like he wants to spit that taste off of it.
Collector-of-Tales as what is sensed gets shared Collector-of-Tales gives a low bass growl that's more felt than heard >>Do not like.<<
Throatcrusher takes a half step forward and pauses with his foot still a few inches off the ground. He looks down and begins to carefully step where he sees or smells the grave dirt. He shifts into a large black furred dire wolf when he thinks he notices a spot of the grave dirt and goes to work digging out whatever is underneath.
As the group moves into the darkness of the cellar, there's no sound but your breathing and the sound of shoes and paws moving through shin deep water. The ground feels squishy and muddy under foot. You know the drill. BANG! The cellar doors slam shut, plunging the basement into darkness save for the bobbling pool of fairy light. There are actually a few pin pricks and teeny gaps in places, this home IS quite old so bits of the foundation aren't doing so hot. There is a child's giggle in the darkness. Of course there is. There's also the swishy sounds of something moving in the water. Slow, ungainly, and from several different directions. And there's so much *crap* in here making jumping shadows and obstructing sight, making a tripping hazard of a maze!
Ragged Brown Wolf shifts back to Glabro, hunting in her pack for a light source. Behold, flash light! And a lighter. She shrugs and hands one to Jackie, her choice. No way is she doing Crinos here with this foundation.
Broken Fang stops dead still for a moment as Throatcrusher starts digging, then barks loud, a warning, >> Coming out of ground. More than ten! Watch your backs! << His form bulks out a little further as he takes on the hispo form over the lupus one, baring his fangs in an angry growl.
Collector-of-Tales growls as the door slams and the shadows start moving >>Remember, We're not trapped in here with them. They're trapped in here with us.<<
Jackie swivels to point her spear away from the group, facing the perimeter. "Man, I really wish I had said I had a bad feeling about this. I'd feel so smart right now..."
Protector-of-Hope can sense this as well, shit shit shit. She'll rise up to her crinos form in response and bring her power blade out and at the ready. The familiar buzz of the light saber coming to life can be heard with a whoooosh.
The stench of rot and decay just *explodes* into the cellar as the dead rise, their oozes and gasses kept trapped under a layer of thick mud until they were summoned to defend this necromantic haven. They do as zombies do, they groan and suffle, clumsily knocking over a few stacks of junk with a splash here and there. They're coming to eat your BRRAAAAAAAAINS! And also the rest of you probably, if zombie media is to be believed. Kaz keeps people from getting TOO freaked out, his inspiring and courageous presence putting a good front up against these shambling corpses. They come from all directions, trying to get to the group, although the maze doesn't help their cause much.
And here's Irsa-Neanderthal with a freakin' flashlight and none weapons, one might say. But hell, she's Garou, and they're kinda weapons. She quickly nabs a loose brick from the floor and hurls it like an arrow at the closest zombie. Gift-powered, baaabee!
Throatcrusher roars a challenge to the incoming horde. >>They think they monsters! Show them what monsters are!<< He pushes over one of the "walls" of stuff over to break up the swarm of dead coming towards them even more. >>Form circle. Kill those that come!<<
Broken Fang has only seen a couple of zombie movies and not very good ones, so when he's confronted with the stank of the shambling undead, the big wolf just launches at the closest one that would keep him between it and the kinfolk, trying to help form said circle of defense. Let the Ahrouns go blender mode, that's what they are good at!
Irsa's brick flies across the cellar, moving faster than a normal projectile could possibly move. The power of the throw displaces the air, making the brick thrum as it slams into the nearest zombie. Bone, blood and gore explode in a fountain as Irsa takes the zombie's upper half clean off.
Now's really a time for Strikes-Twice to show just how she's earned her name. Knocking zombies down is only sometimes effective. The now dire-wolfed philodox makes sure she doesn't stop mauling a target until it's a tattered, immobile mess. And stays that way.
Collector-of-Tales rips a zombie's throat out with a mighty hispo bite and they wretches, growling >>I am filled with regret.<<
Protector-of-Hope will show these zombies NO MERCY and she starts to slice and dice with her power blade, whooosh...whooosh...whooosh! Heads are flying, limbs, whatever she hits. No way she really wants to touch these things even with claws if she can help it!
Jackie follows the rest of the pack into action, covering her part of the circle with her spear held at shoulder height. With a lunge and a thrust she stabs one of the oncoming zombies right through the neck, twisting the spear to sever the spine. "Oh, my god, these things stink so bad."
Crash! Splash! Stuff goes toppling in a little bit of a domino effect when Kaz shoves over some Stuff. Shelves break and dump their contents into the water, stacks of chairs (why are there always stacks of chairs in spooky basements?) topple and break apart. A couple of the undead find themselves trapped in the trash, but still moving, crawling and trying to clumsily pry themselves out of the mess. A zombie head detonates via brick, but another just shoves the collapsing body out of the way, raising its arms and shuffle lunging forwards! Others are cut down by a laser sword, and they don't smell any better when partially cooked, that's for sure. For those using hands, and claws, you're gonna want a lot of Purel later. For those using teeth, they taste SO BAD. Like. So bad. There may be a desire to retch a little bit, with that stingy watery eye thing going on, but like just don't swallow anything. It's noisy and fierce down here in splash town. At the edge of the light, your stereotypical Spooky Little Girl stands on a set of steps that go up into the house, mostly in shadow though her eyes are glowing silver pricks of light that observe the melee with amusement. She's rooting for the zombies, of course.
Throatcrusher has not seen enough movies to know that he should be scared of creepy giggling girls in spooky basements. After tearing a zombie in half and crushing its skull under his big paws his bloodlusted eyes find her. He charges her, bowling over more than one zombie in his path. His jaws open wide and would have slammed shut around her skull but she goes through her and stops at the stairs managing not to slam his snout off of them. He whirls around in frustration seeking his prey. Not finding it he seeks out more targets to vent his frustration on.
The girl is turned into a waft of dark mist as Throatcrusher tries to take her down. The dead collapse in stank-ass heaps in the super unsanitary water. Whether falling with the disappearance of the ghost girl or taken down by werewolves, they lie still. For now. Most of them can be seen, others are lost to the murky water and its tiny upset waves.
With the light bobbing crazily around and all this destructive activity happening, it might be hard to see. But against a pile of shit that has NOT been knocked over, an oozy, drippy, semy transparent... snot begins to dribble. It sort of paints itself into a pattern, a drippy but identifiable picture of a doll. It's a little bit stick figureish, you try being a great artist when all you've got is ghost snot to work with. Curly hair with a bow, dress on, little shoes, that sort of thing.
Collector-of-Tales nods as he spies the image >>That's what we're looking for here then, a doll.<< and he starts rooting through the piles of trash once the zombies collapse.
Broken Fang shakes his head violently, spitting out bits of zombie throat with a sound like he might retch as well. With ears laid back, he catches Collector's comment and offers, >> Upstairs maybe yes? <<
Shelving, all over the place! Neanderthal Irsa picks up a piece at hurls at an approaching zombie, crunching the thing like an rotting egg. "Break the binding!" she calls to Evan.
Jackie looks around, fumbling at the wreckage. Unfortunately, all she manages to find is a bunch of zombie guts, making her rather wish she hadn't.
<< Watch!!! >> Strikes-Twice yells out a warning to the rest even as she //dives// face first into a pile of junk. A very specific pile of junk. The shadow-lord is frantically digging and clawing half deflated sports balls and long forgotten stuffed animals and other childish debris out of the way. On the hunt for one particular doll in the boxes near the far wall.
Collector-of-Tales is enthusiastic and determined but not particularly successful, at least at first. Although he keeps trying until Strikes-Twice calls out and he turns his attention in that direction >>Oh thank gaia.<<
Throatcrusher is too busy looking for threats despite the immediate danger having passed to find anything useful. He grunts and spits out more zombie guts as he watches Strikes-Twice dive into the pile of junk. He turns back to the stairs and guards for anymore attack from there as the rest search.
Protector-of-Hope is looking as well and on the hunt with the others. Not sure what she is looking for, but seems intent to find it.
Broken Fang is still snorting out the taste of that last zombie, but since Strikes Twice seems to be on something, the damp wolf will push his way over to try to help dig the crap out of the way, tearing boxes open and tossing them aside.
Primal Figure hurls a chair, blasting back a Mr Potato Head that was reaching for the searchers. Hey, you put chairs in a creepy basement, this is the end result.
It's the toys this time. Slinky dogs and raggedy dolls (which no where near fit the drawn description), an aged Mr Potato Head, and creepy, mildewy clown puppets begin to animate out of the bits Abril chucks out of the way during her digging. Now granted, they're *toys*, but a slinky dog can still get up there and strangle a foo, a doll with an articulated mouth can still make little bites, and so on. In the bobbling blueish light, it's more terrifying than horribly dangerous, but still. No one likes getting hit in the dick by a rogue basketball.
The doll itself is in a case with a scratched up glass lid. The case is scratched all over in occult symbols and weird figures.
Strikes-Twice gently bites the case and fetches it on back to Irsa and Rhapsody. Not even bothering to dodge toys along the way, using her bulky hispo frame to just bowl the toys on over if they get in the way.
Protector-of-Hope did not make it to all the toys, but sees Strikes-Twice grabbing a case and bringing it to her and Irsa. >> That looks like the one. We destroy, yes? <<
Collector-of-Tales nods as he looks over the doll and the container quizzically >>Container binding, release doll?<<
Primal Figure growls at one of the Slinky Dogs. That'll learn it. "Hold up, lemme get a thing," she mutters, getting those tools back she lent out earlier. She starts working on one side to chip some runes off, leaving the other side for the Mistseekers' mystic.
Protector-of-Hope melts down to her more homid-like yet wild form, and will take a tool and work on the other side of the case. She gets more around the case and finally attacks the old fashioned lock on the case and POP! It's open. She looks to Irsa and then she slowly opens the case.
The toys all drop again as the case is opened, and the girl appears, "DON'T YOU HURT PENELOPE GRACE!" she shrieks at the group, "DON'T HURT HER!" The doll has seen better days, but it was loved and shows some wear outside of just age and basement living. The ghostly girl looks... terrified, panicked even, whatever evil had her animating the dead and the toys seems to have fled her. Up close, she's pale and in a dress that would have been in style a good 80 years ago. Her throat is blackened with bruises in the shapes of hands.
Throatcrusher whirls around at the shriek of the child returning. He growls low and starts to stalk towards the girl. More wary this time as she had eluded him before.
Evan will melt back to homid form and goes to console the dead girl, now that she's less murder-crazy "Its okay, she's trapped in there and we're going to let her out. So the bad men won't be able to use her against you any more okay?"
Jackie stands back, trying to avoid stepping in rotten guts. "This is so damned weird..."
Broken Fang, for the moment, retains the large hispo form, padding through the water to put himself between the screeching girl and Protector of Hope and the doll, plunking his butt down in the muck to just watch the girl.
<< If wanted to destroy, would have just crunched. >> Strikes-Twice says, her hispo jaws snapping a little louder than needed as she growls out those words, though probably doesn't help if ghosts don't come with universal translators. Either way, she's also a very stationary but looming wolf-form as the Theurges do their thang.
"We ain't hurtin' your friend, little one. See? She's free now, just like you are." Irsa gently removes the doll from the case and holds it out to the ghost-girl. "Someone did this to her and you, yeah? Where are they at right now?"
The girl doesn't breath, but she'd be hyperventilating a little bit if she could probably. She doesn't look scared of the garou so much as the safety of her doll, one of the few things tethering her to the land of the living. She eyes the wolves distrustfully at their assurances, but after a brief hesitation she says, "He's upstairs with his dumb friends. He's got Micha and momma. They're gonna eat you." She tries to snatch the doll but her hands pass right through it. Damn it.
Throatcrusher halts his advance when Evan walks over to console the ghost girl. A confused grunt escapes him. >>Creepy monster...?<< Seeing the others speak to the ghost without destroying it he grunts and turns back around to watch the stairs.
Protector-of-Hope holds the case now, waiting to see what happens. The words from the ghost girl upset her somewhat, but hardens her as well. "We'll take care with the doll. Then help Micha and your mother." She is resolute as she looks around to them all.
Evan will try and soothe the child and gesture over towards where the ooze glyph appeared "You should be able to see a nice lady over there, stay with her. We're going to try and help Micha and your momma now okay? Angels sent us, promise."
Primal Figure turns and looks up the stairs. "They can try. But my brothers an' sisters and I are tough. And I don't like jerks like th' ones upstairs." She's keeping her voice light, like she's sharing a big secret with the girl. "Where's Micah and your Momma's things?" she asks the ghost-child.
The girl shrugs at Primal figure and says, "I dunno. The stupids took all kinds of stuff and put it in places so people like you couldn't come steal it. They don't let us be on the same floor together anyways." She grumbles something about angels pinching really hard, and she vanishes back across the shroud to the land of the dead. The basement is.. a stinky disgusting mess and probably you all have leprosy or something now. But it's still, relatively safe aside from tripping hazards, and the group can find their way up into the house. Stairwell unlocked!
