2023.10.02: Harpejji Bardic Legacy
| Harpejji Bardic Legacy | |
|---|---|
| Friends out patrolling stop a minor mugging, and make a tragic discovery. | |
| IC Date | October |
| IC Time | Afternoon |
| Players | Pancake, Irsa, Evan, Boots, Jackie |
| Location | Nowhere, Nebraska |
| Prp/Tp | A Soundtrack of Comedy and Tragedy |
| Theme Song | - Bohemian Rhapsody, on the Harpejji |
So y'all's out paroling and making sure there's no trouble in your neighborhood. Which is not the best neighborhood, let's be perfectly honest. It's the kinda neighborhood where werewolves can just live in an abandoned building and do really well for themselves. The early evening's ambiance is distant sirens, the occasional car horn, snatches of music that's up too loud, drifts of domestic arguments, all punctuated here and there with shattering glass or suspicious bangs. Fun stuff. Foot traffic is mild on the sidewalk and a little heavier on the street, the homeless drifting back to their squats to make things safe for themselves before dark and pedestrians pretend not to notice them. Fun times, what a lovely place! But, on the bright side, there's probably less obvious drug dealers or gang bangers hanging around here lately. Probably due to werewolves in abandoned buildings.
Evan is heading out to get to get to know the neighborhood, he's from the city but not a city this big. So its not his element but he lives here now and needs to fix that so he's gathered some friends and headed out to see what he can see. No guitar this time, that would just be weird.
Irsa turns up with Boots in tow. They apparently stopped at a Kinfolk-run convenience store for snacks, Irsa has a cherry slush in one hand. "Yo, what's good?" she asks the others when she spots them.
Jackie strolls along next to Evan, hands in pockets and looking relaxed. She waves at Irsa and Boots as their paths converge. "Oh, hey! Evan wanted to take a little walk, see the neighborhood from the sidewalk kind of thing. I just came to keep him out of trouble. Or get him into it, depending on how the night goes."
The young Gnawer has a Coke slush. He's drinking it quick enough to give himself brain-freeze, likely. Boots glances around, hrming at the sounds of the urban wilderness. Sounds like home to him. He gives a nod to Evan and Jackie, greeting each with a "Sup?"
Ah, the city. So full of amazing landmarks! Like hey, that's the alley that I curb stomped that fomori in! And you know if you go down this shitty looking street there's the best noodle shop ever, and wow, someone tried to rob me at gun point over by that building once! Good stuff. Sing it with me, 'meeeeeemories...'
Any how, during your walkabout, the dulcet sounds of an argument can be heard nearby.
"Man! C'mon, black, just give me some!" comes the voice of an older man.
"Nah, back up, bruh, this ain't for you!" in the voice of a younger man, somewhere in his mid teens by the pitch of his voice.
"Bitch!" comes the older man's frustrated voice, followed up immediately by a sharp *smack!* sound and an angry, pained cry from the younger.
From whence does this argument hail? A shitty dark alley, where else?
Evan was about to answer Irsa when she asked what was good but then he hears an argument and changes his answer "Huh. Not that." And he moves as if to approach the alley quietly to get a closer look at what's going on.
Irsa's head swivels around as she hears the disturbance. "And there ya go, first squabble of th' night. Anyone wanna place your bets before we roll down that way?" She follows after Evan, shadowing him and covering him in case there's a lookout posted nearby.
Boots slurps at his drink, acting as if nothing is out of the ordinary. It's the streets, yo. He keeps close to Irsa, making sure to be in time with her - just in case he has to jump in front of anything.
Jackie stops in her tread, then swivels on the balls of her feet to change direction and go after Evan. "Five bucks on drugs. And alcohol counts."
The view down the alley is dim and bleak and smelly. The paving has a skin of crud and general filth tracked and blown by wind, several dumpsters dot the alley, not bunched up or anything like that, just spotted here and there down the block long length of the alleyway. About twenty feet or so in the alley is the source of the argument. A teenager is sat on his butt on the ground and rubbing the side of his face, where a welt is beginning to form, while the older adult is standing over him and basically just sorta ransacking the kid's shopping bag. There's no weapons visible, and the kid looks more resigned than especially fearful of the older man. Perhaps they know each other, or there's some familiarity that gets in the way of total stranger-danger fear on the kid's part. The older man has close cropped greying hair on his black head and his teeshirt and jeans are dirty. The teenager looks skinny but decently well put together, black and latino, skinny but clean.
Evan frowns, then scowls, then cracks his neck taking a deep breath before moving to step into the alley mouth (clearly keyed up a bit) and call out "Hey. You okay kid?"
"Girl, that bet's so broad you might as well call it a ship an' hit it with a cannon," Irsa grouses at Jackie. She finishes up her slush and tosses the empty into a nearby dumpster. It's overflowing of course, but it's the thought that counts. Ugh, brainfreeze. She presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth, maybe it'll pass soon. She grunts as she recognizes the older man. "Shakin' down one of th' brothers, Matthew? That's low, dawg."
Jackie leans against the alley wall, then thinks better of it and stands back up straight while brushing off her shoulder. She gives Matthew a shrug, and a 'you done fucked up' look. "And don't look at me, you skipped right past good cop to the bad ones tonight."
The brainfreeze is fuel for the Ahroun, letting the pain amp him up - should he need to do anything. For now, he stands next to Irsa, watching Matthew as he drinks his slush.
Matthew whips his head around at the sound of the arrived pack and does a little stumble-step back. This might be due to drunkenness or fright, it's impossible to say which. "You just stay outta this, girl!" he snaps at Irsa with a certain sort of petulant twinge to his voice. These people are scary, but you do not survive on the street by tucking tail and running every time a much bigger dog crosses your path, you know? You gotta save face, reinforce your spine when and where you can. So he doesn't run, nor does he give the kid back his bag, though his rummaging does become a good deal quicker and more frantic.
The kid, meanwhile, does look scared, but he's also on the spot with the question being posed at him, "Uh, uh yes sir, yes I'm alright." he says quickly, a bit timidly, but with great manners to his way of speech. Now that he's not alone, he tries to quickly get to his feet, glancing side to side as if trying to figure out the right course. Run screaming down the alley? Shrink into the shadows? But his bag is in Matthew's hand and he doesn't want to leave *that*, so... sorta shrinking back it is!
Evan nods at the kid before looking at Matthew, fixing him with an angry glare "You speak to the boss with respect or we're going to have bigger problems than we already are. I don't know what sort of beef you've got with that guy and frankly I don't give a single solitary fuck. You're going to give him his stuff back and Run. Right. Along."
"Who th' fuck you callin' GIRL, old man?" Irsa demands, rolling forward a step. "Back your wrinkled ass up and shut your corn hole." Her Rage is high for a theurge, but even without it she's an intimidating person.
The slurping sound as Boots finishes his slush is almost deafening in the tension ongoing. Tossing the empty into a nearby dumpster, he looks then to Irsa. "Is he gonna find out? Seems he wants to fuck around." He shrugs, looking back to Matthew. The younger man is left to be for now.
Jackie chuckles as the others lay into the sucker, and almost leans against the wall again before remembering not to at the last second.
Okay, but you DO turn tail and run when the bigger dog crossing your path is a bigass rottweiler backed up by some junkyard hounds that don't take no shit. Matthew's eyes get wide, his lower lip pooches out a bit. This is a man that believes whole heartedly that he's been done dirty and the world owes him, so when the contrary is shoved in his face, well, he doesn't handle it well. He grabs some random shit out of the shopping bag, an effort in defiance before he drops the bag and hauls his skinny old ass down the alley away from the pack. The kid, he looks... *nervous*. This isn't a place where one wants to feel the effects of rage, but here it is, all up in his soul meat, screaming at him to run. But also it's not aimed right at him and he just got rescued a bit so... like it's all a very confusing situation. He blindly gropes towards the ground for the bag while keeping his eyes on the group, his breathing quick and worried. "Um. Thank you. I appreciate it, really. Thank you." he says nervously.
As a total side, like... it smells in this alley. Like it smells REALLY bad. Dumpster and grunge smell yes, but also something sickly sweet and sour, the scent of rotting meat.
After the old man leaves, Evan will crouch down and check on the bag, peeking in it barely before gesturing towards the kid and holding the handles up for him to take. Then actually stepping away from the bag to let the kid grab his stuff as he asks "Do you have somewhere to go that he's not?" with an up-nod in the direction that the old man fled.
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Dumb ass." Irsa's eyes narrow as the rancid scent hits her, and she immediately goes into 'Enemy ambush detection mode'. She can see across the Gauntlet easily with Pulse of the Invisible, but the smell's coming from the Tellurian. Is it the Wyrm's Corruption, or something else? Something's not right here, and it's not just the rotten smell.
Jackie wrinkles her nose as Matthew scurries off, as the smell starts to really sink in an permeate the senses. She grimaces as she remembers another dumpster not far from here that had some nasty little hangers on stuck to it, and pulls out her phone. She turns on the flashlight, and takes a knee to bend down and shine the light under the dumpster, checking just in case.
Watching as Matthew flees, Boots keeps his gaze leveled at the older man. Once he's out of sight, he waves in front of his face. "Y'all smell that?" He makes a face, clearly not a fan.
The kid's bag contains food, not snacks but food-food, though of the cheap variety. Ramen, frozen burritos, that sort of thing, along with a Walgreens Pharmacy bag stuffed down under that stuff, just a bit of it poking up and visible. Fortunately, whoever's medicine wasn't stolen. There's also some office supplies in there, such as a pack of pencils and erasers, and a cheap but serviceable calculator. This is the shopping of someone clawing their way out of a ditch. Sure, you couldn't say what his plans are or anything, but his purchases aren't frivolous, they're just... budgeted.
"Yeah I got... I got my mom's..." he answers nervously, his words halting as he strives to both answer quickly but also not give away anything that might get his home robbed later. He begins backing up, trying to arch around the group, the rage making him uncomfortable with getting too close to them. But he also doesn't want to go the same way Matthew went. "She's probably worrying about me," he says, trying a very awkward sort of smile while not meeting anyone's eyes, "She'll be lookin out for me..." It's conversational, it's *thankful* to you all, but also a scared warning as well. Please don't murderize me, my mom will totally call the cops. "Yeah, it always be smellin' in here. Worse cause of the heat probably..." If he's allowed, he'll scooch himself out of the alley and practice some of that cardio work by running the rest of the way home. The smell, however, lingers. It doesn't run.
Evan nods as he sees the kid on his way before turning back to look at the going over his allies are giving the Alley. He wrinkles his nose and takes a moment of concentration to steel himself against rot and corruption before joining back in.
The smell is actually sort of 'light' where the group is right now, but once you start moving deeper into the alleyway, it becomes thicker, stickier. Like... The smell is just wrapping around you with its stank mittens. Irsa and Boots both track the smell to a metal grate in the foundation of one of the buildings that creates the alleyway. It's not in good shape, it's in place but even a tap of a boot toe will make the grate wiggle, proving that it is not actually attached to anything. The space beyond the grate is very dark.
Jackie flicks the light back and forth a few times before making a horking noise in her throat and giving up on that approach. She stands back up and puts the phone away, pinching her nose shut. "God, that's awful."
Irsa doesn't bother stopping the kid. This is a human squabble that's been settled, it's not her duty to interfere and chase folks down. Damn, it stinks here. Really, it's amazing everyone's eyes aren't watering. It's not any better as she follows the scent to that grate. But darkness does not foil her sight. She peers inside the grate, to see what she can see.
Boots does move to the side to allow the kid to leave, following Irsa as they scent the nasty. He's breathing through his mouth now, once they are close enough. "Somethin' rotten down there." He says, scowling. He looks to Evan and Jackie. "Might be... like really messy." He warns.
Evan can't concentrate through all the stink and gross but forges ahead anyway, not wanting to be left behind. He moves closer to get a look at the grate "Should I kick that? Should someone else kick that?"
Jackie looks down at the grate, still holding her nose so her voice comes out funny. "I don't want to kick that. These are good boots. And pants, actually."
Fun fact! Certain smells actually do stick, their particles are oily and sticky. The worst offenders are that of decomposition, the fatty oils left to waft in the air, stuck to dust and dead skin and stuff like that. Basically what I'm saying is you guys are PROBABLY going to want to buy a ton of lemons and scrub yourselves with them later, because this smell is going to follow you, unfortunately.
Irsa holds up a hand. "There's a crawl space here. Gonna have t' crouch if you wanna move through. Don't see any obvious rottin' stuff, just cobwebs, dust and some rats an' roaches. Someone with sneaker went through there, but it ain't recent."
His name, is Boots. Steeled against the stank, he moves forward. "Step back. You don't want this on you." He forewarns Evan and Jack, and even Irsa. No one wants this on them. Once they are clear, he sets to putting a boot to the grate, trying to kick it open.
KLANGIDDYKLANGKLANG! The grate dents inwards and pops straight through the hole to bang and crash on the concrete floor inside, allowing a smidgin of wan light inside.
Inside the crawl space the stench is worse, which at least says you're on the right track. The smell was sort of settled in here, but every movement kicks it up like your feet kick up the dust. This space is where city workers might access if there was ever a problem with the plumbing for this side of the building, perhaps. Lots of pipes above your heads, various grimy old gauges and stuff like that. Nothing nefarious in any of it, though.
The route moves deep through under the building, between thickass support footings and such. There's no sound aside from the dull echo of the grate's impact, and the air is puffed with dust that it's kicked up. Do you dare enter? What if it's full of vampires? Or Rakes??
Evan will have stepped back a touch when the Ahroun went for point position. He goes for a light source, instead of conjuring a faerie light he takes out his cellphone and turns on the flashlight mode.
Jackie makes a retching noise as she slips her fingers from her nose and takes a closer look into the hole leading to the bog of eternal stench. "Oh, shit, it's in my mouth now!" Jackie gets control of her breathing long enough to add. "I'm not feeling anything other than the bog standard city bog stuff."
"Boots, take point on this. Evan after, me, then Jackie," Irsa decides. "Let's get to it."
He doesn't have to be told twice. Boots can burn the clothes he has on, after all. He heads in, crawling through the open grate. "Shout if I miss somethin'. If I go ape-shit, back out. Ain't much room down here." He says, taking point as ordered.
Forced to move a bit slowly, due to having to either duck walk or crawl in here, people without Resist Toxin active may have to stop periodically and regain control of their stomachs to avoid being sick. Smiling helps, funnily enough, it suppresses the gag reflex a little bit. Anyhoo, the path isn't very maze-like or anything, just kinda deep in there. A dim light can be seen eventually, coming from around a corner.
Alas, it is not a hidden den for city vampires or cannibals, it's... a home. A tatty old blanket is hunt up between some beams and a masterwork of cardboard and duct tape has created walls between others to create a spaciously wide home, though it's quite short. A string of white Christmas lights is plugged into a dusty old outlet that's probably meant for city workers while they're under here. There's a little record player, a creaky dining room chair and a short egg-crate table with personal effects littered atop it. There's semi/refurbished dumpster-dive treasures in here, things part way through being fixed or repaired, or just to cheer this unlikely yet very safe little secret home up. A double layer of couch cushions makes a bed to one side, its top layered in blankets, and there's an unmoving people-shaped lump lying beneath the covers. The stench of rot is eye wateringly awful in here. It's a very safe, very *un*noticeable home. Sadly, that means if something were to ever happen to its occupant, no one is likely to find them except by chance. Or by werewolves, I guess.
Jackie pulls out her cell phone again and reactivates the flashlight. Then she looks down at her feet somberly. "Well, good bye boots. It was nice knowing you, you served me well." Then she follows the group into the dankness.
Evan waits his turn and goes in when he's supposed to. Grinning as he mutters "Its like we're trying to find the grossest stuff we can." Then when he shines his light around he frowns "Oh...oh no." when the light lands on what's probably a corpse under a blanket.
Irsa stares around once the group enters the home, checking out things Umbral-side. "It's fairly clean. Some little Disease spirits breeding 'round that lump there." Her expression shifts as she looks at what's almost certainly a rotting body. Pity, mixed with a trace of sadness for the forgotten soul lying there. "Now ain't that 'bout a bitch," she mutters, shifting from foot to foot.
Boots winces, whispering what might be a prayer under his breath. "Should see if folks are missing a family member. Give him a proper burial." He says, quietly once in the room. "He had a good spot." He says, sadly.
Jackie gags again, covering her mouth for a few seconds. "And we're sure they're actually dead? Not just sleeping with bad cheese under their cushions or something?"
The blankets move just a little. Oh no, did Jackie call it? Is this guy alive but just really smelly?! No, it's just a rat that scooches out from under the covers and goes hauling ass on silent little feet through a gap in one of the cardboard walls. SO! You've got a dead guy and a little hidden home. What would you like to do with this information? Your options are many. There is, of course, disturbing the corpse for investigative purposes, there's searching around the little home for... whatever, burning it down or leaving it be, the sky's the limit! Well, the shortass ceiling is the limit, but you know what I mean.
Evan is going over to tend to the dead, concentrating on not horking all over the poor fucker as he tries to get some idea of what went down.
No wallet, no mail, nothing under the cushions or in his sock or anything that might indicate who he was. He bears the wear and tear of an entire life lived rough. His hands are calloused and his joints swollen from arthritis, his face is wrinkled and his skin leathery from harsh elements and scant protection. He's thin but not malnourished, and lacks the ruddy nose or underscent of a heavy drinker. The skin of his nose and upper lip are rough and scratched up, wad of hankies near by being the likely reason. He'd been drinking a lot of tea and there's empty packets of vitamin samples and nyquil capsules around. Poor guy just... got sick, then got sicker, and then just couldn't pull through. Not down here where no one could help him.
It's funny though, no one's reported anyone missing, no one's had a mention on the street about grandpa so and so not being around lately, yet the home shows he's been here for a while. This guy fell so far through the cracks that even the homeless community overlooked him.
Evan and Jackie may notice that hidden behind him in the shadows between the cushions and the cardboard wall, there's a case. Long, black with silver buckles and a handle.
Jackie stands well back, covering her nose again. She points with her other hand, inadvertently waving the phone's light around unhelpfully at first. "Uhh, the thing, over there?"
If the man's eyes are opened, Boots closes them quietly. "Fuckin..." He grumbles, not having the words to express the sorrow. The blanket is draped back over the man when folks are done investigating. As Jackie mentions the thing, he looks over in the direction indicated.
Irsa finds nada, alas! But she checks out that case the others point to. "Whoa. What th' hell's that for? Looks fancy."
Evan will move over gingerly towards the case, having gone a bit slow and reverent as he says softly "I think its an instrument case." He murmurs in Welsh before touching the case to open it.
Moving and opening the case causes a teeny tiny little amp to fall over, but that thing's pretty beat up so it's probably used to it. Inside the case is the strange, enigmatic, forbidden love child of the guitar and the piano. It's not in pristine condition, but it's still in very good condition. Clean, kinda sorta polished but it could stand a new turtle waxing, so to speak. Its rectangular body rests in a bed of crushed blue velvet, and a little pocket door in there holds all those needful things for precise tuning.
"What th' hell -is- that thing?" Irsa steps forward to look at the instrument. "Never seen nothin' like this. D'ya think you can play it?" she asks Evan.
Jackie looks it over from across the room. "Well, that's... pretty unusual. Which might make it easier to find out who he was? There could be youtube videos of him busking or something?"
Evan will check over the instrument, and the inside of the case for some sort of owner's label or serial number or something to identify the owner, even if its just some sort of glyph or mark for a signature "I am not actually sure? I can probably figure it out though."
Boots gives a low whistle, admiring the instrument from afar. "Prolly could get info on the guy based on that, yeah." He admits, speaking quietly - it's a dead man's home, after all.
Nothing in there but instrument-thing, alas, who he was will have to remain a mystery a bit longer. But till then, there's his loot and also some ramen if you're more in to noodles than strings. And let's not forget the smell. The sticky, horrifying smell. Those couch cushions aren't gonna make it, that's for sure! To the incinerator with them!
"We should get outta here. You wanna find out who this was?" Irsa asks the group. "If so, we can hit up our Kinfolk an' get his remains outta here. It's that or leave him here."
Evan nods and adds "I would strongly prefer not to leave them behind. If they were living here like this and they kept their instrument? This mattered to them, they cared for this. They were a Bard. They should not be forgotten."
Jackie shakes her head, waggling the light along with it. "Leaving him here seems like a not good option. Not unless you really want to let the rats keep feasting."
Boots nods to Irsa. "We can get the kin to collect him and we can give him a proper tending to." A look to the others. "If we do it, we're gonna draw attention because of the whole rage thing." He mentions. "We can send someone tonight, even come watch over them. I don't want them getting jumped or anythin'."
"Yeah, I don't like leavin' him here either. Th' dude made it this far, no reason he should be alone in death, too." Irsa gets out her cellphone and makes a call. "We got Kinfolk who do morgue duty, they got this."
