|
|
Post by Rosalie Dylas (Maddy) on Apr 1, 2014 16:00:37 GMT -5
It was agreed that the television studio was a good place to go. (Ris took some convincing but Coena got her again with "Maybe they have some cake in their staff lounge"). It was as good a place than any to look for clues. The studio had tons of video footage, maybe there was something on there that could help them. If not, a TV studio just seemed cool. And he wouldn't admit it to anyone. But Christopher was... scared. Only a little! If the mafia could... could still hurt him... He was only a little scared. Cross his heart. The mafia weren't SO scary. His hand would hover over his neck where the scar of the wound that killed him was. Maybe he was scared. The studio would be safe. Not only for him but for Ris and Coena. And it wouldn't be hiding because they could still get stuff done. And Miss Lewis had wanted them to go there and Miss Lewis knew her stuff. With Miss Lewis on their side there was no doubt they'd find the mafia. Ris and Miss Lewis were the best investigators in town. Well, he assumed. He hadn't been in town long. Ok, Miss Lewis was the best investigator in town. Ris didn't know he was blind for the first few days they'd known each other. Regardless, this was a good plan. He was convinced this was the best course of action. Christopher worried a little that the police would come for Ris for breaking the pinkie swear but then he realized if the police were in town they would be too busy with the mafia. He decided he would forgive Ris too. He'd wanted to hold a grudge but he had given up on it after a few minutes. He didn't want to be mad at Ris, so he forgave her. All the way to the studio Christopher thought about Miss Alma and her fish swimming around endless in their water. He'd never seen fish before (he'd never seen much before) and he was still in awe. The colors, the movement. He didn't want to look away. But of course he did eventually. Then he said good bye to Miss Alma even though he didn't want to. He hadn't gotten to see Dakota either, though maybe that was for the best. He made Dakota sad and that was something he couldn't stand. Dakota should be happy. They deserved to be happy. If he was around they wouldn't be so it was better for him to stay away. They got to the studio. It was like a building made of bricks- no that was stupid. It was like a mountain- no. It was like? NO. Not happening. They walked in and the air seemed as cold as the air in a fridge full of frozen pizza. No no no. They walked in and the air seemed as cold as an ice cube. No wait that was silly. They walked in and the air seemed- AUGH. Christopher was not letting Ris's simile thing rub off on him. No no no. He would let that happen like a cat would let you stroke their tail. That depends on the cat though. Christopher had met cats that let him stroke their tail and their bellies. Cat fur was so nice, so soft. So they walked in and the air was a little cold and not a simile. Christopher, Ris, and Coena head out to the studio. Christopher struggles with not falling into Ris's habit of poorly developed similes. |
|
|
|
Post by Liou on Apr 1, 2014 16:23:54 GMT -5
Professor Bardsley seemed oddly distracted, his eyes were gazing at something in the distance. Leo tilted his head curiously, but the Professor snapped out of his spell. It was understandable, of course, everyone was upset. Including Leo himself. He had to admit that he was just a teensy bit upset, too. Fortunately, the sight of Professor Bardsley's luscious hair was helping him feel better, as always. "That's the spirit," he said. "Maybe we can finally meet that Mayor, eh? After all the times we came this close to bursting into their office..." Suddenly, a kind of greasy potato ran into Leo's safe hairbor- harbor. Dirt. In Bardsley's hair. Leo's scream went on and on. He wouldn't let another murder happen right before his eyes. He moved so fast he was a blur of velvet and sequins. In a fluid motion, he caught Winston in a surprisingly firm headlock, drew his cordless hair dryer out of his coat and pressed it against the side of Winston's head. "Don't... even... dream of it!" With a quick jolt of his head, he flicked his bangs out of his face. First things first. "Are you all right, Professor?" Leo scrutinised the precious hair, biting his lip. "Oh dear... I would be very reassured if you would come for a cleansing shampoo, after this terrible ordeal." He turned back to Winston, scrunching up his nose. "As for you... well, you certainly didn't use any of those "mods"! You're coming with me. How can you even walk around town when you look like... like this. You need a thorough boost to your charisma, young novice, otherwise none of your interactions are going to go well! I'm surprised anyone even recognises you in this town." He marched into Stop. Glamour Time! and shoved Winston into a chair. "Don't worry, when you step out of here, you will look like a true hero." He gazed at Winston for a moment, pondering and stroking his chin with his hand. "Ah-ha! Yes, I knooow. OK. Let's start with the purification ritual." Leo flicked his almighty remote. This time the stereo played "A Kind of Magic" by Queen. He then proceeded to wash and rinse Winston's hair, humming along with the song. His hands were gentle and he relaxed immediately, getting back into his familiar pattern of gestures. That was the best way of coping with anything. "I'm using a special shampoo that should dry up your incredibly greasy hair. It'll help to untangle it... but I don't know how much it can do agains the demons that seem to inhabit your hair," he muttered. He pulled a few fuzzy bits of blue stuff out of Winston's hair, shrieked and tossed them into the rubbish bin, pausing to wash his hands. "I didn't know this would be an exorcism!" Soon, Winnie's hair took the sweet, slightly stingy smell of all the combined products lurking in the salon. The glitter in the air seemed to stain the boy himself with its magical glow. Or maybe that was just the colorful lights. Then came the combing, parting and pinning. "Now... to tame the beast! You know, you could look good as a girl... but I'll go with something more traditional." The gentle sound of snip-snip-snipping filled the salon. He trimmed the back, shaped the bangs, balanced the sides, left some fun little lengths near the ears. He moved the pins little by little, dried progressively, added gel and a few highlights. When all was done, he swept the bits of fallen hair off Winston, and added a kitty ears headband for the lulz. He was so proud of himself. He had turned a geek into a bishie. "Now all you need is pointy ears and a green hat!" He pointed an ominous-looking spray at Winston. "Mmm... to glitt or not to glitt..." That was a speedypost, Liou must edit tomorrow.
Essentially, Leo turns Winston into a bishonen. It's his way of coping. |
|
|
|
Post by Lizica on Apr 1, 2014 16:32:58 GMT -5
Piper had been shoved and pushed and fast-talked into convinced to go along with the paper-dryers. The magician's investigation notes were dry and together and well-photographed, but they were still fairly indecipherable--whether from code or bad penmanship or running ink, it didn't matter. It was a wrinkly, inky mess. As the whole lot of them waited for the (questionable) mayor to talk with them, Piper took the opportunity to fetch some more beach maps from the lobby. She returned to the group and laid out a clean map on the floor. And--with her trusty Sharpie marker and her old maps for reference--Piper had begun to mark it up, intently sitting cross-legged, bent double over her maps. Snipe Hunt dangled from her neck, ringing slightly when she moved. Earlier at the morgue, Piper had taken Leopold up on his offer of "jingly shinies," thanking him for two charms that were substantially quieter than the others--both in their dull bell sound and in their less-gaudy appearance. She'd heard somewhere that ringing bells were good for warding off evil spirits--and she'd give it a shot if it saved her memory card--but a loud noise would also surely ward off Webster. So, a compromise. She had taken one "shinie" muffled with feathers--another with sea turtle charms--and wound them both tightly around Snipe Hunt's lens. Presently on the tiled floor of Town Hall, Piper x-ed out Webster's previous burrow. She drew over the spot where the car had crashed. And she noted the area of Sirensong that had been trampled by countless Aifam Covers as they crowded around and then tried to catch the scrawled papers. That left a good chunk of the beach that Webster could still be making faux burrows. After the mayor evaluated the dried papers, she'd have to return to the beach and search for them, yet again, yet again caught up in Webster's diabolical wake of trickery. And then--an idea suddenly struck her. Why was Piper always reacting to Webster's traps? If these dried papers were in fact a sham, as had been suggested at one point--why were the townspeople always the ones left high and dry by the mafias' traps? Why--Piper could set up her own traps to thwart Webster in his habitat. (Well, okay--she had a few times before, with her giant sand castle maze, and with the giant sand pitfall that had cost her her old camera Fillmore)-- BUT this time she could do more--all at once! Dozens of fake-out snowmen hidden behind pampas grass! Piper's boot treads up and down and backwards along the beach! An obstacle course of sand to drive Webster's trail directly to Snipe Hunt! And even if Pratchett was unable to restore her last photo...--with the right number of organic traps and with Snipe Hunt (hopefully) protected against ghosts, Piper would be able to catch her photo of Webster for sure!! Yes! This time, it had to work! "Don't go outside!"Piper was snapped back to the present when Professor Bardsley suddenly shoved the dried papers at Melanie, the pet shop owner, and dashed after his students, the whole train of them leaving sandy shoeprints all over Piper's beach map. She stared after them in a daze. Had she missed something? It probably wasn't as great as her Great Webster Trap brainstorm, though. "I'm going to shake this off outside," Piper murmured to Melanie, indicating the sand-covered map. Outside Town Hall, Piper swiped the sand off the map and examined it in the better light. She marked in the line of sparking power cables that the utility crew was still working on with her marker. How likely was Webster to build a burrow there, she wondered? Then she caught sight of movement in the corner of her eye and saw a TV in the window of the Burger Hut. They were broadcasting the Channel 24 News. Another accident on the beach? No, a mafia triple-whammy. Piper knew none of these victims very well at all, except maybe-- "Marie!" she exclaimed. "Dr. Marie Robinson!" For master repair, an extraordinaire! Piper glanced at her trodden beach map. Why had the mafias targeted her? She was one of the few people Piper could turn to if her camera malfunctioned and if Piper herself couldn't fix it. How dare they. Were the mafias, too, trying to actively thwart her Webster photography? Snipe Hunt gave a light jingle as Piper swiftly refolded the maps and turned to march to the beach. With an abrupt pause, she performed a double-take, suddenly spinning back to the news report on the television. Wait just a minute here--Channel 24 had been reporting on the mafia deaths for days now, hadn't they--and they were almost always at or near the scene of the crime. How was their footage not being perpetually marred by ghosts? Pratchett had mentioned something about that, something about Cheryl Roxanne Lewis seeing Christopher's ghost, but maybe it didn't affect video in the same way as photography? But maybe since Cheryl (and not Pratchett) had seen the ghost on film, she'd know more about preventing ghosts from showing up on film? Firmly tucking the maps under her arm, Piper hurried off to Sirensong Beach, Snipe Hunt jingling pleasantly all the way. Piper now has a couple (hopefully ghost-preventative) jingly bells for her camera, courtesy of Leopold. While waiting for the mayor with the rest of the paper-dryers, she brainstorms a new way to catch Webster. She goes outside Town Hall to shake the sand off her beach maps and sees the report on the new mafia deaths. She is frustrated at Marie's death, and then realizes that Channel 24's film is not ruined by ghosts. Hoping to find out more, Piper heads off to the beach. |
|
|
|
Post by Tiger on Apr 1, 2014 18:11:34 GMT -5
Cheryl held her temper for all of two seconds, consumed all her willpower, and couldn’t stop herself from bellowing after Leopold Endicott, hairdresser and owner of Stop! Glamour Time, as he wailed off the scene. “MY NAME IS CHERYL ROXANNE LEWIS, NOT TIFFANY!” “Uhm…Cheryl. I didn’t air that, just so you know, but, uh…” Cheryl reigned herself in – she was a professional news reporter, these deaths were not going to get the best of her, they were not going to stop her from reporting to the town as clearly as possible so that they could get the most use out of the information – but – but darn it Travis had been holding a bloody knife beside a woman with a poorly-sliced throat and an Aboniable Aifam signature Ace shoved into her pocket! What did the idiot think had happened? She almost wanted to chase Leopold Endicott down and shake him and shout about how much pain Marie Robinson must have been in during her last moments and how it was all the fault of his beloved Travis, who couldn’t even be bothered to learn people’s names or give them the dignity of a life without his danged fake television drama blared into their faces. But she did not. Anyone so devoted to such a dismissive egomaniac was not of sound reason. She finished the broadcast. “Cheryl, the kids are here, if that makes you feel better.” “Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can…I want to check around for leads first. Please keep an eye on them…after what happened to Siddhi…” “Understood. And Cheryl – I’m sorry about all this.” “Not your fault. But I appreciate it. I’ll bring you another coffee on the way back.” ------- Pratchett flicked the button for the building intercom. “Hello and welcome to Channel 24 News and Associates! My name’s Pratchett; I work for Cheryl and I’ll be your host for the time being. My office’s on the second floor if you’d like to come visit. If you wanna roam the building – well, I can’t blame you for curiosity. Just don’t try to break into any locked rooms, and stay out of Miss Smith’s office – which I think should be locked, so, y’know, follow rule number one. Also? Try not to break anything. “If you have any questions…just ask. Chances are I’ll hear you.” Cheryl yells at Leo before finishing her broadcast and heading to the beach to look for leads. Pratchett greets Christopher, Ris, and Coena as they arrive at the studio. |
|
|
|
Post by Diana on Apr 1, 2014 20:00:31 GMT -5
Winston yelped as a sudden hand yanked him away from the NPC he was interacting with. He struggled and flailed against the chokehold, but couldn’t escape! The new NPC’s grip was too fierce – he must have put all his stat points into Strength. Stupid pures. It was the maybe-mentor-maybe-wizard-maybe-cultist guy he’d seen – he could tell that much, when he managed to look up in between flails. But Winston was supposed to be accosting him, not the other way around! Why was this game so stupid?! Something pressed against the side of his head. A gun! Sweet Saradomin, he hated these kinds of cutscenes – and for all its many failures in game design, Aifam Cove was so drattedly immersive. "As for you... well, you certainly didn't use any of those ‘mods’!” the villain accused. Winston snorted. Of course he didn’t! Mods were like cheating! “You're coming with me. How can you even walk around town when you look like... like this. You need a thorough boost to your charisma, young novice, otherwise none of your interactions are going to go well! I'm surprised anyone even recognises you in this town."Winston paused in his struggling. An increase to Charisma? Well, stat boosts were always nice. And that was one of the stats he tended to overlook – after all, if the NPCs were not wooed by his dashing good looks, they always came to respect and laud him for his heroic deeds. But the NPCs in Aifam had been dreadfully disrespectful so far, so maybe he did need to the stat. “Lead the way,” he said graciously, trying to ignore the fact that he was being dragged in a way most unbecoming of a main character. The hairstylist mentor cultist didn’t let go of him in spite of this olive branch, and he sulked as he was dragged up the street and into a wall of solid fabulousness. Winston choked on hairspray and glitter. Poison! It was a trap! He started struggling again, but the haze of hair products was penalizing his Strength, and he was helpless to his captor’s whims. The cultist – for surely he was a despicable stylomancer – roughly strapped into a chair. It whirred and rose off the ground, and he could only whimper at the thought of the hidden torture implements that would surely unfold from it- ”Let's start with the purification ritual.”Winston screamed. Not the shampoo! No! His scalp was ticklish! He thrashed and tried to pull away, but his bonds were too strong. Even worse, his torturer was humming cheerfully as he did the vile deed. What boundless cruelty! So fierce was his suffering- …Actually, it didn’t hurt at all. Other than the tickling, and that abated as soon as he let Winston’s head out of the sink. For a torture routine, this was pretty pathetic. Probably best not to let the madman know that, though. "I'm using a special shampoo that should dry up your incredibly greasy hair. It'll help to untangle it... but I don't know how much it can do agains the demons that seem to inhabit your hair."“There are demons in my hair?” Winston shrieked. He was holy-aligned! How had this happened?! “Get them out, get them out!” The stylomancer proceeded to remove several malevolent blue bits from his hair. Winston heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe this guy was on his side after all? This whole encounter was confusing, but the hero got kidnapped by secret resistance organizations just as often as they did by villains. And then - You know, you could look good as a girl...”“Don’t change my gender!” Winston wailed. “I don’t care if that gives me +2 Charisma!” Thankfully, the stylomancer did not begin an arcane gender-swapping ritual. He was doing something to Winston’s hair, but as long as he stayed away from his man bits, he could deal with it. The process was rhythmic, and devoid of any other way to break the monotony, he began to tap his feet. If only he had his DS… An entire day must have passed before the stylomancer finally undid his bonds. He leapt from captivity, fully intent on escaping this style dungeon, but was distracted by his reflection. “Woah.” Winston admired himself. He’d always been a dashing hero, of course, but whatever magic had been used on his hair had certainly boosted his Charisma; now he had a sparkle! A heroic sparkle. Like a shiny pokemon. …He could do without the kitty ears, but he was lacking a headgear item at the moment, and maybe they gave a boost to Charisma too? Eh. He could find something later. Ooh! He heard what the man was getting at, and preened. “Don’t worry! I have a Link hat at home! And the Master Sword,” he added. “So, uh. Was this a tutorial, or do I need to pay you two thousand gold?” He frowned. “Glitt?” Winston is made fabulous. |
|
|
|
Post by Nova on Apr 1, 2014 21:30:49 GMT -5
"Nathan!"
Oh thank Woo, that majestic voice! Before he knew it, Merry ran up along the sandy shore to lick his hand, followed by the warmest hug by the woman he cared most for.
"Bea," he smiled as he gazed upon her face. "I was so worried for you!"
"I-- what's happened? Have you seen Kylie?"
His expression turned sour. "You haven't seen Kylie either? I thought she was with you. Dr. Marie Robinson, and that cad Travis Richem, they...died."
There wasn't much else to say before Sister Lucille came up to them, and told Bea that Kylie was with her. They were both very relieved when.. at the corner of his eye.. what or who.. was that? It was a ghost! It was...
Lindsey.
Nathan tried to call her name out, but he was too in shock. His mouth didn't even open. She was floating around, looking for someone. For her brother. For him.
"Lindsey," he squeaked. He took a deep breath. "LINDSEY!"
For the first time in a long time, tears of joy ran down his cheeks.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ginz ❤ on Apr 1, 2014 23:55:29 GMT -5
Lindsey needed a way to go unnoticed while she looked for Nathan. Maybe she could blend in with the crowd somehow. She was racking her brain for ideas when she heard someone calling her name. "Too late," she thought to herself.
The voice wasn't Nathan's, but it was still familiar to her, and it grew louder as the person calling for her got nearer. When she got close enough, Lindsey did a double take. She recognized her, of course, and she wasn't surprised to see another ghost either. But Anna Dywight? Wasn't she alive?
"Anna?" She clasped her hands to her mouth "What happened?"
Lindsey knew that time hadn't stopped while she was in the afterlife with Enna, but the realization of what that really meant hit her like a ton of bricks. What else had happened? Who else had died? Her mind automatically went to Nathan. Was he...? No. She couldn't even bear to think about it. She tried to focus on what Anna was saying instead.
“Lindsey, I'm sorry they killed you in the way they did. No matter what you did, that wasn't right. But, I have to know before anything, did you have anything to do with any of the murders?”
Lindsey hung down her head. "I did," she said quietly. When she looked up at Anna again, her cheeks were streaked with tears. "It was me who put the snowflake over the gunshot wound on Mr. Stal's chest," she confessed.
"He didn't like Everington Cakes. He said cake wasn't 'pub food', whatever that means!" she added, anger rising inside her. "How could I know it wasn't him who killed Enna? It was worth a shot."
"I couldn't stand around and do nothing after my best friend was killed! I couldn't keep my arms crossed after such a negative statement was made against cake! Do you know what Thomas would have done? He would have--"
"LINDSEY!"
Lindsey stopped dead in her tracks. She had heard the voice she had been wanting to hear all along.
"I'm sorry, Anna," she whispered. "I'm sorry for everything. You didn't deserve to die."
Lindsey turned around and called back. "NATHAN!"
And what a relief it was for her to see that her brother wasn't even a tiny bit translucent.
|
|
|
|
Post by PFA on Apr 2, 2014 1:29:27 GMT -5
What Professor Bardsley needed at that moment was a distraction. He got one. "Get out of my way," said that unfortunate young man he'd met earlier, the one who seemed trapped in a video game, "I'm chasing a mysterious wizard mentor cultist- whoa.""Er, did you need something?" Professor Bardsley asked, but the boy didn't seem to be listening. He just looked at him in shock, though what was so shocking, the professor was uncertain. Well, until the boy clarified, that was. "You used mods, didn't you?" Winston accused. "I don't care if you have Apachii Sky Hair installed - you're still an NPC! You'll never match up to these manly locks!""I... what?" Professor Bardsley blinked, as the boy shoved his hair in his face. Quite honestly, he... had seen far better heads of hair than this young man's. It was obvious that he probably hadn't had a proper shower in a while. Naturally, he was not the only one to notice, as Mr. Endicott immediately let out a scream, tackling the boy and threatening him with a hairdryer. "Don't... even... dream of it!""Er, what are you—" was all Professor Bardsley managed, before Mr. Endicott spoke again. "Are you all right, Professor?" he asked, examining the professor's hair. "Oh dear... I would be very reassured if you would come for a cleansing shampoo, after this terrible ordeal."Professor Bardsley blinked, feeling his hair in confusion. Had it gotten dirty when the boy assaulted him? Amid the confusion, he hadn't noticed. However, the state of his hair was really the least of his concerns at the moment. He had to look out for the students, and there was still the matter of the investigation... "I... maybe I'll come by later," he replied carefully. And with that, Mr. Endicott dragged the boy off to his salon for a hair intervention. Professor Bardsley shook his head, searching the crowd for Shantelle and Susie. He soon found them, still staring in shock at the scene, and walked over to accompany them. "We should get back to town hall," he told them. "It's not safe here." "But... Professor, look!" Susie squeaked, gesturing to the scene. "I-it's a ghost!" "It's Lindsey!" Shantelle added. Professor Bardsley frowned. "Don't be ridiculous. There's no such thing as ghosts." "But... but she's right there!" Shantelle insisted. "We still need to talk to the mayor," Professor Bardsley continued, ignoring her. "It's obvious that these mafia murders are quickly spiraling out of our control. If there's any chance the mayor can put a stop to them, then we must speak with him as soon as possible." There was a pause. And then, cautiously, Susie spoke up. "W-well... ghosts kind of give me the creeps anyway, so..." With that, the two girls decided to follow Professor Bardsley away from the scene, and back to town hall. With any luck, hopefully they'd be able to actually speak with the mayor this time, and he'd be able to do something about this mess. Professor Bardsley is thoroughly distracted by Winston assaulting him with his hair. He considers Leo's offer to visit the salon, but decides he has more important matters to tend to for now. He finds Shantelle and Susie, convincing them to head back to town hall (while continuing to deny the existence of ghosts). |
|
|
|
Post by Draco on Apr 2, 2014 1:35:42 GMT -5
Jack is still working, ignoring any sounds coming from the other side of the door, as well as any sounds outside the window. He was working, he was the Mayor's Assistant, and he was going to keep doing it right! Even if the Mayor never actually did much work himself... He was about to start thinking about this when the door was kicked open. Jolting forward he dives in front of the Mayor to protect him, only to float there in front of the Mayor's desk. As for hiding, he wasn't doing a good job, not when he was transparent and things could go through him... On the other side of Jack stared a lumpy headed man, grey to the skin, and wide open eyes staring with no real emotion, occasionally looking around when something moved around enough... On the desk was a rock with some googly eyes on it. "You're not supposed to be in here!" --- Several children walk up to the beach and watch Dakota. They just stand there, watching a short distance away, watching. -- At the other crime scene (there are a lot popping up lately, huh?), the other children are still around Siddhi's body. They walk over to it, and together lift the body up, and begin to walk away with it. They don't get far though, someone stops them. "What are you kids doing with that? You should leave that there and leave it to the professionals, like that person from the Morgue." The kids stare at each other for a moment, before one speaks up. "Dakota asked us to help out. We were promised a few dollars for candies." The person stares at them hard for several minutes before sighing. "It doesn't seem right to allow kids to carry a dead body, but I guess this town is getting used to it." The kids wait for the person to walk away before shuffling down an alley way with the body. A short time later in another part of town a new snowman appeared holding a paintbrush. Jack tries to play bodyguard and protect the Mayor from a unknown threat. However, the "threat" has now seen that the mayor is a rock.... With googly eyes....
Several children stand around watching Dakota.
Siddhi's body is stolen, after some questioning and lying, and a new snowman holding a paintbrush appears somewhere in town. |
|
|
|
Post by RielCZ on Apr 2, 2014 2:03:41 GMT -5
Rilen returned, somewhat unhappy, to his still stone cold home. Word had spread earlier through the morgue that power had been restored to much of the town, save houses east of the Stalberry-Fork-Jade line... He hoped that wouldn't include his sister's house athwart the school, but indeed it did. He sighed and flipped a light-switch anyway. Nothing. Where would he go? What would he do? He didn't want to go back to the morgue... Seeing Anna's body get carted in sort of traumatized him and he left unwilling to return. The boarder seated himself on the couch and supposed he could always go visit Miko. And Barbra -- he couldn't forget that wondrous plant. Miko hadn't dismissed his offer to help the florist in her shop and thus it was still open. Though, after Miko's proposal to go away with Rilen to somewhere warmer, her timidity returned as soon as he returned Barbra to her; the florist seemed almost ashamed at either her comment or herself... He wondered if she would still enjoy his company. And while they spent the rest of the time in the morgue together, their interactions were awkward at best and Miko held tightly onto her plant. Still, he liked the sense of human interaction... and he really enjoyed Barbra, too. Rilen started to shiver; his house was cold. He didn't care where he went, he just had to get somewhere warm. Even outside it was a few degrees nicer -- the sun was still out and it was just after the heat of the day. He left the house and, with a slight sniffle, closed and locked the door. Rilen heard commotion coming from the beach. Who's dead now? he thought pessimistically as he navigated toward it. Lying on the ground was a woman he had never before encountered -- she looked like an eccentric scientist of some type, and he silently nodded his approval of her occupation and felt saddened by her death -- and the body of Travis was being carted away by whom he assumed was one of the morgue workers. The boarder was saddened by his death, too. Wait, no he wasn't. Travis's distorted reality had many times disturbed the peace, and speculation throughout the crowd suggested he was a member of one of the mafias. Still, Travis was one of a handful of individuals in the town he actually knew the name of... even if it was a name of infamy. Rilen sighed as the dizziness due to blood set in. His pessimistic side surfaced again as the thought he could really trust no one entered his head; if someone as deluded as Travis was capable of being a mafia member anyone could be. But then he started thinking more optimistically. No, this thought was wrong. Rilen could trust Miko; she had confided in him. (And of course a sweet little plant couldn't lift a weapon.) And if he could trust one person, he could trust others. A slow smile spread across his face. He then went off in search of something to do. He wasn't sure what that would be yet, or whom it would concern... but he had to go somewhere. He sneezed. Preferably somewhere warm. Rilen thinks back to his time with Miko and Barbra.
Then, he sees the bodies of Travis and Marie before setting off in search of something to do. |
|
|
|
Post by TJ Wagner on Apr 2, 2014 9:27:01 GMT -5
The headache had been one of the worst. After talking to Barbra, Miko had felt her temples start to pound. She had learned how to handle these headaches most of the time, and it happened less frequently these days, but she could tell that this one was different. She had barely managed to set Barbra down on her counter before the blackness swam over her. She didn't even have a chance to lock the door. She didn't know how much time had passed. She never did when this happened, but she suddenly became aware that she was standing on the cliff looking down. The air whipped about her and she realized that she wasn't wearing a coat or clothes. Shivering, she tried to remember walking out here but her mind was a complete and total blank. Wrapping her arms around her body, she started to trudge back to her shop when a smell that was all too familiar these days assaulted her nose. Blood! It was coppery and hung on the air so thickly it was almost visible. Even before she saw any bodies or the crowds, she knew it had happened again. Death still walked among them just waiting to pick them off one by one. While a part of her was accepting of whatever fate might bring her way, she still was in no hurry to die. She didn't wait around to see what was happening, but another fear now tugged at her heart. Had anyone seen her walking around in the cold improperly dressed for the weather? Had she spoken to anyone? She knew it was very possible, and the rumors about crazy Miko would soon start swirling again. Oh well. She was used to the whispers and stares. She didn't like it, but she was used to it. She didn't run, but she walked quickly back to her shop. She only hoped that Barbra was doing well. Miko blacks out and wakes up at the cliffs. She hopes no one saw her or that she spoke to anyone during this time she can't remember. Cold, she walks back alone to her shop. |
|
|
|
Post by Kristykimmy on Apr 2, 2014 9:36:59 GMT -5
Lindsey hung her head before whispering "I did." "It was me who put the snowflake over the gunshot wound on Mr. Stal's chest," Lindsey confessed, looking up at her with a tear-streaked face. "He didn't like Everington Cakes. He said cake wasn't 'pub food', whatever that means!" she added, anger rising inside her. How could I know it wasn't him who killed Enna? It was worth a shot. I couldn't stand around and do nothing after my best friend was killed! I couldn't keep my arms crossed after such a negative statement was made against cake! Do you know what Thomas would have done? He would have--"Suddenly, a voice shouting Lindsey's name interrupted them. Anna looked up and saw Nathan, Lindsey's brother, standing on the cliff above them. She smiled a little, Nathan looked so happy, even with the tears pouring down his face. Lindsey froze there, looking stunned and relieved. "I'm sorry, Anna," Lindsey whispered. "I'm sorry for everything. You didn't deserve to die."She turned and shouted to her brother. Anna walked away and sat down on the beach at the edge of the tide line. The water washed up over her legs. “No,” she said with a wry chuckle. “I didn't deserve to die, and neither did Mr. Stal, especially not for not serving cake at the pub, and neither did Aaron for trying to figure it all out and save us from these people. But, we're all dead, and Lindsey is to blame for all of it in the end.” The water was a bit rough, but she'd surfed in rougher conditions, and she no longer had to worry about drowning. “Well, let's see if I can actually interact with solid objects. If so, it might be fun to terrorize the townspeople with the sight of a phantom surfboard. Or, if nothing else, ride a few waves.” Anna got up and walked up the slope back to Fork Street. She wasn't going to use any old surfboard, she wanted hers. Anna is disappointed when Lindsey confesses she had a hand in Mr. Stal's murder. She leaves her to have her reunion with her brother, and then decides to see if she can interact with solid objects enough to surf. She heads back to Dywight Antiques. |
|
|
|
Post by Sporty on Apr 2, 2014 10:39:41 GMT -5
Melanie Porter was accustomed to the bizarre. Being a shapeshifting beast of the night tended to do that to you, but even without her werewolf status she had encountered plenty of unusual sights in her time. She had banned a man from her shop for attempting to treat it like a buffet, tried to befriend a sapient but socially clueless velociraptor, and been harassed by a man who insisted that he was a reality TV star. She was perhaps the only one in town who took Winston Teakes at all seriously, for while he was generally harmless, his particular brand of delusion made him more receptive to the possibility of the supernatural and thus more likely to bring attention to her if he ever caught a hint of her secret. She had seen ghosts on two occasions: once when visiting the famously haunted town of Netwaffle, and again after the boy Christopher's murder. As such, it hardly surprised her when the restless spirit of Jack the Mayor's Assistant appeared on the other side of the door. Had that been the only odd thing about this event, she probably would have just gone on with her rant. But then she saw the one the ghostly assistant was trying to 'protect.' A... rock. Not an enchanted rock, with the ability to talk and move about and hurl itself at its enemies. Not a golem, or a specimen of the strange and enigmatic Pet Rock. Just a chunk of plain mineral, made comical by the googly eyes glued on its surface. This sight made Melanie pause, overrunning her righteous fury with a smothering confusion. Had this rock shown up anywhere else, she likely could have accepted it as just another of Aifam's quirks -- but the town Mayor was an elected office! How an inanimate object had gotten the position, at least without anyone knowing, was completely beyond her. There were more important things to worry about than the 'mayor's' identity though. After a few moments, her brain rebooted and she turned a scowl on the 'assistant.' "I hardly have a choice," she snapped. "We need whatever information we can get to stop these people from overrunning the town, and that means taking action, not sitting around doing whatever you... two are doing! If you are trying to stop them, then let us help; if not then get up and help us!" Melanie is taken off guard by the identity of the Mayor, but recovers and snaps at Jack to help investigate instead of sitting around and chatting with a rock. |
|
|
|
Post by Avery on Apr 2, 2014 10:51:03 GMT -5
(Narrator Note: Please recall, votes are due in about 6 hours. Please have them into me by then! Also, there will be a time skip into the next morning so keep that in mind if you need to resolve anything for your character before that time.)
|
|
|
|
Post by Liou on Apr 2, 2014 15:15:58 GMT -5
"Glitt!" Leo sprayed the teensiest amount of glitter he could manage on Winston. It was only fair. Who knew how long it would be before he got another opportunity to glam up this kid? "I have given you a great power, young man." Leo was quite moved. This was a great moment in history. "Use it well. If you use the right poses with those ears, everyone will open their doors for you. And remember to take good care of your hair! Otherwise the demons will settle again." He sighed, gazing at his work. Winston was too young for Leo to consider him attractive, but the kitty ears really did the trick. "You're too cute. You don't need to pay me any gold, just a photo or two will do, for my wall." He grabbed an instant camera and took two three five pics to add to the pictures of his happiest customers. "You'll see, it'll make a big difference when you talk to people. Especially the ladies. Oh, I can't wait for you to try it!" Once Winston was gone, Leo tidied up the salon and his own hair, making it a bit more lively after his mourning ritual, adding a few bouncy curls that would look nice with his earrings. He wore a nice black and orange shirt with strass and danced around merrily on his platform shoes. He hadn't opened the salon during the blackout of course, and he didn't think anyone would come this afternoon. He had a few appointments for the evening, but enough free time for a stroll through the town. He hoped to catch up with Professor Bardsley and his delightful students, and to see his adorable new protege making use of his glam superpowers. Leo finishes Winnie's makeover, reopens the salon after the blackout, but has time to keep up with the rest of town between appointments. |
|
