Roosevelt,
A small-sized Texan town in the middle of nowhere, by anyone's guess. Train, road, and bus are the three ways to get here- but most people just skip it, having far more interesting places to head to. Not that Roosevelt isn't a nice place...
...as long as you stay in the town area, and don't head to the caravan-park ridden outskirts. Unfortunately, that's just where Heron's residence (well, one of them) is. Though it's significantly better than a caravan. A pleasant, two-story house stands just near the town boundaries, white, boxy pseudohouses barely a hundred metres away. A short road leads from the highway to the metal gate of a driveway, and the house is surrounded by a low, stucco-ridden brick fence.
Wood coated with white varnish, and windows with curtains drawn are what's seen from the front. Garden gnomes stand guard about an overgrown lawn, and a dusty wooden door, with leadlight windows built in is between the exterior and the interior, the connections present in the form of a doorknob, and a brass knocker. A tile clatters to the ground, and a creak braces across the hot wind, but no noise from a source other than the house graces the estate.
OOC: Set yourselves up! Coincidences are part and parcel, so no drama about showing up simultaneously.
If you wanted to do something in Roosevelt before coming to the house, stab me.
Fresh off the bus, Liron Shaftoe groans as he sets down a hefty duffel bag filled with clothes and music books. An instrument is slung across his back; a 1982 Gibson model called the 'Guild' guitar. The guitar might have been a collector's piece, had it not obviously seen such better days. While the piece looks completely functional, it's also been heavily marked, stained, repaired, and the frets wouldn't look original to the eyes of someone familiar with the brand.
The anacronistic but quite faded 'Kaya: 1978; Bob Marley and the Wailers' bumpersticker across the backplate doesn't really help enhance the image, nor does the fact that a guitar pick was left stuck through the strings, next to the tuning keys. The guitar gets an affectionate pat as Liron turns and surveys his surroundings, squinting slightly at the encroaching jungle of suburban sprawl, though he smirks at the thought that even its tenacious roots seem unable to thrive in such remote soil.
Brushing his dreadlocks from his face, he gives a resolute nod, picks up his duffel bag, and hops over the fence, pausing to nod at each of the lawn gnomes. "I and I've seen better days," he says to the last gnome before the door, jerking a head at the building, "but we stick together, yeah?"
With that, he readjusts the guitar on his back to a more comfortable position, and knocks on the door in a quick tattoo, eschewing the heavy-looking knocker. He whistles to himself as he looks around and waits for an answer, as though continuing the melody established by knocking on the door.
(Time 1: What time is it? That was a long bus ride....)
(Time 1: Late afternoon, around 5pm. It's summer; the sun will be around for a while, yet.)
The door swings open at Liron's harmony, falling slightly askew; the lock is broken and the door damaged, but cleverly disguised that the outside viewer would see nothing amiss.
Reasons become abundantly clear as a broken hallway stands before the rasta, the shattered glass of an overhead light just one element of prior violence. A fallen painting lies facedown in the centre of the hallway, fine art not being exempt from the carnage.
Liron blinks and changes his tune -- literally. The initial tune was a somewhat rambling islander harmony, almost reggae without the intensity. The new song is somewhat more cautious and foreboding. While Liron considers his options, he studies the hallway without entering.
(Time 2: Time sight. Using the song o/` This isn't what we meant o/` as a standard focus. Irony says roll 1: 7, 3.)
Liron's song changes, slightly, his voice turning harsh as violent beats pop through his mind, and inadvertantly spill out into the world. Words spring as unbidden whispers from his tounge, frantic and hurried, but the melody- and the lyrics- are incomplete.
Raven drives his beat-up 1989-make Daihatsu Applause down the familiar road leading from the highway to Roosevelt. He pays no attention to the lazy everyday life around him, heading for what is apparently Heron's local residence. There will be time for sightseeing later, and Heron made it -- whatever 'it' was -- sound urgent.
He stops his car right outside the metal gate, and after double-checking he's at the right place, Raven parks the car and exits, taking a deep breath. His gratitude to Heron for all he had done for him brought Raven this far, but he would have preferred to have more to go on, he muses. Shaking his head, he heads for the gateway and takes a look around, putting his keys in the back pocket of his jeans as he does so.
The creaky house does not react to Raven's presence, car breaking the silence as the dying engine nonetheless intrudes on Liron's beat. Raven can easily see the old place, along with the visitor in front of the door; the gnomes greet Raven with fixed smiles, and the letterbox stands in front of the fence, rising out the dirt as if in a grim salute.
Rising an eyebrow, Raven approaches Liron, waving at him in greeting. His eyes are closed behind the reflective surface of his sunglasses as he meditates on the area around the front door of the house, trying to take a quick glance back into the past quarter hour to see what took place. Raven walks slowly, using his other senses to guide him on the path to the front door.
(Time 2: Divination; 6, 6, 4)
A flash before the minds eye, vision reflecting off the tinted glass. In peaceful solitude sat the house, broken only by the visitors. One recognizable, walking with the legs of a weary traveller in just the last minute, but aside from this recent incursion, the property remains vacant... on the outside.
"Hello," Liron says, affecting the American accent he learned in Miami. He turns back from the open doorway and gives the newcomer an anxious smile. "Are you the, uh, property manager?" he asks curiously, fingering the gold rosary hanging about his neck and cocking an eyebrow.
Raven's lips quirk, and he shrugs. "Just the question I was about to ask you, my friend," he responds.
Liron inclines his head slightly. "A fair question," he says. "But no, I was just a friend. I don't suppose you might know where I could find the guy who lived here?" he asks hopefully.
Since this conversation might take a while, Liron tries to display a relaxed attitude, setting down his duffel even though he's kind of unsettled by the image he recieved.
"I was hoping he would be inside," Raven says, frowning. "The person I'm looking for asked me to meet him here."
Placing his hands in his pockets, he approaches Liron. Nodding in the direction of the door, he asks, "Might be a stupid question, but are you sure there's nobody home?"
Looking back inside the building, Liron shakes his head. "Not entirely," he admits. He humms thoughtfully, considering his options. "Now, you know, I'm not sure this looks like a standard style of decor. Might be a good time to call the cops."
"If Heron wanted the cops here, he wouldn't have asked for my help," Raven says casually, glancing sideways at Liron to see his reaction to the name.
Liron's eyes widen slightly at that, and he manages a smile. "Ah," he says quietly. "I was afraid he might be asking for that kind of help." He glances at the house again. "I and I be thinking it might be a good idea to take a look around, eh? But then ... I don't be thinking that Heron, being I and I, would call just two people."
He unslings his guitar from his back and pulls out the pick, tuning it slightly. "Maybe we should have a sit and see what happens?" While waiting for Raven to reply, Liron begins to pluck out, o/` Run For Cover o/`, a somewhat spirited and watchful reggae tune.
(Charisma + Perform at difficulty equal to Time 2 (time-sight): Roll 1: 7, 2, 7, 2, 1, 7, 3, 2; part of an extended (two round) cast using the song as his focus.
(Time 2: Timesight (arete 2, difficulty of ??? - ??? for ability), +1 for willpower: Roll 1: 9, 1 (ouch!) roll 2: 5, 2 (-_-;;))
Though to an outsider, it just sounds like regular (well, well-played) music, Raven and Liron hear flashes of supernatural insight through the melody, all five senses garnering a glimpse of the future...
...which seems remarkably free from altercations or injury, at least, as far as this house, and the area around it goes. The only dangers the interior represents are those of a common household. albeit a messy one... and those you bring in with you.
"If he did, I have no idea when they would arrive," Raven responds with a shrug. "Looking around before anyone else shows up seems like the best option from where I stand."
"You have a point," Liron agrees. He lowers his guitar and slings it across his back once more. "Best we look into this before anything else happens." Liron doesn't have any weapons or defenses availible, but decides they wouldn't really matter anyway. He didn't see anything dangerous in the immediate future, after all. "Shall we?" he gestures to the interior of the building and steps inside, manuvering the door out of the way with one careful foot.
Raven nods, stepping inside. He takes in the condition of the door, before observing the room beyond it.
The door was broken open somehow- a great force was applied to it and a hinge in the persuit of entering the private home. It hangs off one such hinge, and it could probably be pulled off, if it came to that.
The glass on the ground and the facedown painting haven't moved, but the rest of the house is now more visible. Ahead and to the left is a guest bedroom, by the look of things, containing a pristine bed, functional dresser, and a few wooden wardrobes- most of these have been pulled open and ransacked, odds and ends such as clothes and umbrellas pulled out and left haphazardly on the floor. The pillows and matress have been slashed open, as well, and thus piles of stuffing are scattered about the room as well.
The hallway leads further on- you can see a staircase, what looks to be a bathroom, and a couple of other rooms along the way.
"This is strange." Raven frowns, and turns to face his companion. I'll try and take a look at what happened here," he says. "Wanna check out upstairs for any clues?"
Not waiting for an answer, Raven heads to explore the ground level of the house.
OOC: Make an investigation+perception roll.
OOC: 8, 3
Everything on the ground floor has been broken, smashed, or otherwise tampered with; just as notable is the general lack of any obviously magical or hermetic tools.
There are actually three other rooms Raven runs through; a general sitting room or lounge, a kitchen, and a study. The kitchen in particular has been damaged beyond belief, with cupboards open, the sink broken in, and an fallen fridge lying in the middle of a puddle. The stench of rotted food is strong in the air, and knives and glass lie scattered across the floor.
The study and sitting rooms are, at least, slightly less dangerous to walk through- instead of glass and knives, paper and wood lies broken across the floor. The smashed monitor of a computer sits in here, and the books left in the bookshelves and on the ground would seem more likely to belong to a physicist than a mage. Splintered and devastated, a mahogany bookshelf lies facedown in a corner of the room, just below the curtains through which only a muted light passes through.
The sitting room is very classic, containing a fireplace, what *were* expensive, leather chairs, and damaged stereo and hi-fi equipment. There's no television, though- but there are newspapers and novels, also broken.
Curiously, though, you do find one thing- a silver ankh lies near the fireplace, a tiny hole drilled the long end. It's not very big, only about two inches long.
Raven examines the ankh, frowning as he tries to recall anyone who uses them as symbols.
OOC: occult/intelligence, 4, 1, 5
Literally nothing springs to mind about the ankh- Raven can't recall even seeing it in conjunction with magi before. Just as likely it's part of the general junk that's fallen about the place, anyhow...
Not getting anything, he puts the ankh away for safekeeping, just in case. Done with it, he clears up a circle with a five feet radius on the floor, sweeping the debries away.
Raven settles on the floor, legs crossed, and rests his arms atop his knees. His eyes close and he clears his mind of all thought, humming to himself.
His focus achieved, he casts his mind's eye towards the events that transpired in the room. He tries to center on the place he found the ankh, seeing it as foreign enough to the house to mert a closer look.
OOC: meditation/wits, 6, 6, 5, 6, 9; time 2: divination (+1 willpower point), 2, 1, 7
Time stretches back before the third eye, days whizzing past in a blur of sameness, the house untouched for a day, two days, a week.. but then, Raven sees it.
They charged in, black leather predominating- a gang of some kind, and tore into the house with almost feral intensity- searching, looking, rushing about for some purpose. But on this floor, they found nothing and took nothing, as best as you can gather, one of the violent, black-clad thugs instead leaving something behind without realising. Necklaces.. all of them wear the necklace of an inverted ankh, and the necklace strap of one broke, such was his apparent fury...[/code]
Raven frowns, keeping his eyes closed for a few more moments as the visions settle down. So that ankh came from those who trashed the house after all, he muses, standing up slowly. He stretches his limbs to get some feeling into them, and then heads upstairs, calling out, "Found anything interesting?"
While Raven is off exploring the rest of the house, Liron cautiously goes up the stairs, keeping an eye open for anything that stands out as a clue.
As Liron heads upstairs, he can hear the sound of running water- reaching the top of a curved flight of wooden steps, he can see a second bathroom. A curtain is drawn across a bath, but lapping water is clearly present- overflowing from the bath and spilling into the room, kept from the rest of the house by flowing to a drain in the corner.
Tensing himself, Liron cautiously steps into the room and shuts the water off, looking for any obvious clues -- like someone hiding (or dead) behind the curtain.
As Liron draws back the curtain, he retches as he sees the mangled corpse lying in the tub. Rotting flesh floats through the liquid like wet bread, and the whole bathroom is stained and streaked with blood.
Blinking, you see nothing behind the curtain- just an overflowing bathtub. The taps have been removed, however- you'd need a wrench or the like to shut off the flow of water.
"Raven," Liron calls out, eyes fixed on the tubs as he considers. "I may have found something." He fingers the rosary hanging about his neck thoughtfully, but decides not to explore magically at the moment -- he already didn't like what he saw. Best discuss this with a coleague.
Raven frowns, but heads upstairs, following Liron's voice. "What's up?" he asks as he comes closer.
Once Raven is in sight, Liron wordlessly gestures to the bathtub. "If you can," he says uneasily, look for what was, not what is. I and I not be liking it."
"The bathtub, you say?" Raven says, more to himself than anything, before nodding. He comes to stand facing it, and mindful of the water on the floor remains standing. His eyes close, his arms coming to his sides. They bend at the elbows, his hands stretching out forwards, palms up, as he exhales.
Raven attempts to find his center in this new setting, clearing his mind as he breathes in and out deeply.
A minute later, he opens his eyes, disappointment clear in them. "I just can't concentrate well in here," Raven laments, and directs his gaze at the bathtub. He tries to focus on the events that took place around it, which Liron considered important, looking for what was....
(Meditation/Wits; 3, 7, 4, 1, 3)
(Time 2: Divination, +1 willpower; 10, 2, 7)
Raven can see it all clearly, sees exactly how it happened.
Heron flies into the room, flung in by some massive force. The old man, wearing a remarkably typical shirt-and-tie style of dress drapes against the wall, beard choked with blood, several slashing wounds ripped through his body.
"Where is it?" comes a voice- calm, too clam, a broad tenor, suited to a boardroom. A blonde, heavyset man in a suit walks after, bloody katar tripping steaming fluid as he advances. "Last chance."
Heron doesn't reply. There is no defiant last stand, no cutting retort. A second cough and a brief shake of his head.. or is it? Slight magic, perceptable to you, flows from a clenched fist, filling the room.
The heavyset man sighs, upset more than anything. "So be it."
A short flurry of violence follows, a Pattern of Life becoming a Pattern of Mana in mere moments. The body is capriciously tossed into the bathtub, suited man shortly leaving the room.
The images blur and stutter. Something here- somehow, is warding away your magic, preventing you from viewing what takes place over an indeterminate time- but when your vision clears once more, the bathroom reappears, as it is now.
"Fuck." Raven turns to glare at Liron. "He's dead, they killed him." He grimaces, punching a nearby wall in frustration. "I could've gone without seeing that scene."
He gathers his faculties, trying to wrap his mind around the things he had seen. "No, they were separate," Raven mutters to himself. "They trashed the place, but that came after...."
"Is not a good thing," Liron says warily. "We look together, maybe, see what else they look for? Heron's a very smart fellow...." He trails off briefly, looking at the tub again. He rubs his hand anxiously and glances around the room, ignoring the overflowing water for the moment. "You think maybe he hid something we might find, if they missed it?"
Raven drops his hand into the pocket of his jeans, fishing there for a moment before taking out the ankh he found and tossing it over to Liron. "Found this. Couldn't make heads or tails of it. The second group-- they all had it. One dropped it." He snorts. "They were angry, very angry. Turned the place upside down."
Raven's eyes narrow. "I saw the guy who killed Heron. Happened here, just over a week ago. Maybe a day before the other guys came. Some blond, fat guy in a suit and with a dagger. Definitely wasn't normal."
The bathroom doesn't contain much; a shower, a bath, a sink and a mirror, along with a cupboard filled with stuff like razors, shaving cream, deoderant; the usual morning necessities.
There's a small, closed window on the right-side wall of the room, the sun shining in through it.
Liron drags the back of one wrist across his forehead and shakes his head slowly, a mop of dreads swaying loosely. "The more I and I see, the less I and I like," he says sadly. "I and I should finish this quickly, and then see if Master Heron has left I and I any clues, or other allies."
He glances significantly at Raven, then leads the way out of the bathroom, ready to search the other rooms, though in the back of his mind he still mulls over the ankh. That can be considered later.
Raven follows Liron out the bathroom, ready to resume the search for anything left behind, either by the intruders or by Heron himself.
(investigation/perception; 5, 9)
There are three other rooms on this floor; to the right of the bathroom is a master bedroom, complete with antique bed, ripped to shreds. Bookshelves cover both left and right walls, and a toppled lamp lies across the front of the bed, bulb smashed.
In one corner, between a bookshelf and a wardrobe, Raven finds something someone else must have missed- underneath a pile of clothes lies a small wooden box, locked shut with a combination wheel.
Meanwhile, exploring the other two rooms, down a hall to the left, Liron discovers two things. The first room contains an untouched grand piano, left completely alone for some reason. Some music even sits on the stand, but it's untitled, and not one Liron recognizes.
The other room contains naught but a broken mirror and frame, cracked glass reflecting the room at crazy angles. It's not a large room- big enough to be a small study, perhaps, but little beyond that.
Despite the atmosphere, when Liron enters the mirror-room, he feels serene, almost calm, despite what he's just walked through.
Composing himself, Liron takes note of the room with the mirror and considers his options. He itches to explore the place magically, but doesn't want to go further in that direction without comparing notes with Raven. He takes one last look around the room before calling down the hall.
"I and I be thinking," he says, before realizing he's been slipping back into his accented Patois. Switching back to more refined English he continues, "There's some sheet music here, and a piano. I don't know if it means anything ... but there's a room with a mirror here I think we should look at." While waiting for Raven to come back, Liron quickly double-checks his rosary, then unslings his guitar and checks the strings, though he doesn't start playing yet.
Raven commits the place he found the box to memory, and picks it up, heading towards the sound of Liron's voice. "Sounds like a plan," he tells the other man. "I'll also need to take a look back in the bedroom, unless you have any idea how to force a combination wheel lock open."
As he speaks, Raven examines the box in more detail, trying to estimate how sturdy it is and how hard it would be to crack it open with force, if need be.
It's a pretty solid wooden box, though you might be able to smash it if you get your whole force behind it.
Be a damn sight easier with an axe or the like, though.
Reaching the room with the mirror, Raven leans against the doorframe, holding the wooden box on the palm of his right hand for Liron to see. "I think we've found all that we can without using a bit of something extra."
Liron glances at the box and nods. "Best be looking back, then?" he asks curiously, plucking out the first chord of 'Ave Maria'.
(Time 2, Prime 1: Time-sight, to try and see back to what caused this room to have the resonance that it does. Roll 1: 1, 8 (ow...) Roll 2: 8, 10.)
The resonance within the room comes not from the room itself, but the mirror within- brought here years ago, the mirror has slowly but surely passed on it's Contemplative resonance to the room about it.
Nodding in approval at Liron's choice of music, Raven closes his eyes. He lets the opening notes of Ave Maria guide his mind's eye back to the events that resulted in the breaking of the mirror.
(Time 2: Divination, again; 7,2,7)
As Raven focuses on the image, he sees a fairly simple scene, a leather-clad punk rushing in and smashing the mirror with his empty fist. It should have cut him, at least slightly- but he went without injury, glancing at one the shards and picking at his pink mohawk, slightly, before rushing out.
Raven shares the image with Liron, adding out loud, "Seems to be a friend of the morons who trashed the place downstairs just over a week ago." He pauses, considering, before saying, "Not getting anything else out of the room, but the bedroom might be worth double-checking. You?"
"I think that this was Master Heron's scrying chamber," Liron says, shaking his head. "But that seems obvious. That mirror had majesty, once. It brought this room's true self to where we see today." He considers this briefly and turns to Raven. "But that one.... The one who broke the mirror. Did he know what he did? Was he just seeking for something to break? Or was he sent to hide something else behind this violence?" He shakes his head. "Too many questions."
Liron stows his guitar again before agreeing, "One more looksie won't hurt. Let's go." He pauses long enough to take a reasonably sized chunk of the mirror for later study; if the thing had any magical strength, it's probably long gone. But the resonance might still remain.
"If I had to guess, I'd say it was in anger." Raven pauses, contemplating in silence. "Though, perhaps someone hired that group of punks to merely destroy everything in the house," he continues, reminiscing on his earlier vision. "The group downstairs seemed very pissed off, enough so that one of them didn't notice losing his ankh. And the violence they used... it seemed to go beyond a simple search."
He glances at Liron, shrugging. "In any case, yeah, we should go check that room. Heh, I can even show you where the box was at."
The bedroom is fairly unremarkable, apart from it's status as shredded to pieces.
The only window in the room is towards the right hand side, opposite the door; it's a big affair that can be opened and closed. There's a pile of washing in a corner where Raven found the box, a dresser with a small, also-smashed mirror on it, and a few odds and ends- combs, hairties, that sort of thing.
There are a couple of bookshelves here, mostly holding pulp adventure and cheap horror novels. As well as that is the large double bed, matress ripped and pillows slashed open, almost as if someone was trying to look inside for something.
High from the euphoria the notes of Ave Maria evoked in him, Raven hums it. The lyrics flash through his mind, sang by a beautiful voice with just a touch of a Chinese accent that made it all the more exotic. Focusing on those emotions of elation and superiority, Raven reaches with his senses towards the place the box in his hands was found, willing the past to part with its secrets.
(Time 2: Divination; 5, 9, 3)
Was this room but a token effort? Raven sees flashes through his mind of men rushing in and out, almost right away, taking only a small amount of time to destroy the place. They didn't take apart the whole room, much less the floor- but his vision isn't enough to show him how many, or who rushed up these stairs- only that someone did.
Abruptly, Raven's mobile phone starts to ring.
Interesting, he muses, even as he shifts the box to his left arm, fishing for his phone with the other. He flips his cell open and presses it to his right ear in a negligent motion, saying, "Raven," into the mouthpiece.
"Hey, Rave, it's me," says Mei-Li's accented tone, rendered slightly tinny by the mobile through which she speaks. "How's thing? Met up with your old man, yet?"
Raven grimaces despite himself. "Got here too late, seems like. Old man's dead, and the place's trashed."
"Oh. Oh god, I'm so sorry," says Mei-Li, lapsing back into Mandarin. Dimly, though the phone, you can hear a band playing, or at least practicing. "Are you alright?"
"Dunno what I thought I'd find here, but that so wasn't it," he says, sighing heavily. "And to see it happen, powerless to do anything during the replay...."
He pauses, thinking hard for a long moment. "Hey, be careful over there, k? Just in case." Raven glances at Liron, adding, "I think I'll stick around for a bit before returning, just to make sure no one's tailing me."
"Yeah, actually, that's why I'm calling you," replies Mei, worry evident through her tone. "This guy showed up asking around for you."
Raven tenses, gripping the cell firmer. "Oh?" he saysin a deceptively casual tone of voice. "Is he still there?"
"We sent him away, but he knows you stayed here," replies Mei, worry tinged on her voice. "He.. I don't know, I had a real bad feeling about him. He was.. man, I can't remember much, I think he was blonde, pretty well-built.. came around for last nights gig.
I'm worried, Rave. Do you know who he might be?"
"It might," he says, resisting the urge to sigh again. "The guy who killed Heron had crew-cut blond hair and he all heavy-set and muscular. Seemed like he went through lots of exercize to get to his build and strength." Raven pauses, thinking back on the image he saw. "He wore a cheap suit with a tie. The face was kinda bland, and he was caucasian; a bit on the short side at 5'8 or so."
Trying to keep worry out of his voice, he asks, "Fit the profile of my stalker?"
"Sort of," replies Mei, thinking slowly. "He wasn't heavyset. Kinda tall, actually, but he was pretty fit. All lean, like a dancer.
He was wearing a suit, though."
"Hard to say if it's the right guy," Raven tells Mei, another grimace appearing on his face. "'Course, no one said he has to be working alone, the bastard." His thoughts shifting, he asks, "So what did he want to know about me? And, hell, just how much did he seem to know about me already?"
"'I just want to ask him a few questions,' replies Mei, doing a fair imitation of a salaryman. "I don't know how much he knew about you, but if he knew enough to ask me after a gig, I think he knows too much."
Raven nods, even though he knows she can't see him. "You must be right." He exhales, blowing on his bangs and watches silently as they settle back on his forehead. "If he returns or anything else happens, don't be shy about going to Granny. Heron was pretty strong, and he was done in by the guy I saw, so people like us...." Raven trails off, unwilling to complete the sentence aloud.
"Even if we're.. special.. we're still humans," says Mei, suddenly. "And so is this guy, whoever he is."
"Heh, you're right, Mei," Raven says, his spirits strangely lifted by her last words.
"Anyway, we're starting up practice again in a sec," replies Mei. "Look, um, I won't ask what you're going to do, but be careful, alright? I'm not sure I could.. well, you know. If something happened to you."
Her voice takes a significant tone of worry, here.
Raven smirks, and his voice is full of confidence when he responds, "I'll be okay, don't worry about that. Just concentrate on practice. I'll be back soon enough to listen to your new hit!"
"I promise, you love long time," replies Mei, putting on an exaggerated accent. "Later, Rave!"
He chuckles, and with a, "Later!" of his own, Raven terminates the call. Putting the cell away, he turns towards Liron.
"Someone's been checking up on me back home," Raven says, his voice flat and drained of its earlier humor. "What do you say to getting the hell out of here? I've got a car, we can talk there."
While Raven was occupied, Liron had wandered into the room with the piano to examine the sheet music. "What?" he calls, glancing back into the hall. "Oh. Probably it would be best." Sighing, Liron checks that he has his things and prepares to follow Raven.
It's a mournful little ditty, a song that would translate into guitar easily enough. Then again, there's only so much you can tell from a page of notes- it needs to be played to be truly understood.
Raven nods, and heads downstairs, calling over his shoulder, "I parked just outside the property."
After a moment of indecision, Liron gives into the temptation and takes the sheet music. It's something he knows he shouldn't do ... even aside from the fact that he's stealing from a dead man (and one he respects), it could end up getting him into trouble if he's not careful. And that's only assuming it's evidence removed from a crime scene, not a cleverly concealed rote or trigger.
Then again, he already took a piece of the mirror, with its strong resonance.
He grumbles to himself as he carefully tucks the music into a folder of other songs in his duffel, and then double-times it to catch up with Raven. "Sorry," he says quietly. "Wanted to look at that music a bit. Maybe it's nothing ... but a memento is better than forgetting."
Raven looks wistful at the mention of music, before nodding yet again. "Yeah. And maybe it's something after all."
Raven gets to his car and waits for Liron to enter, before starting the engine and heading for the interstate, looking for a motel where they could pour over the few clues they found while sufficiently distanced from the crime scene.
It's not hard to find a 24-hour motel joint near the edge of Roosevelt, near a gas station and a dingy-looking diner. The whole place looks dusty and ill-kept- a typical state around these parts.
Checking in isn't hard- the motel hasn't seen any real business in ages. It looks almost like a converted barracks, a single long building with several rooms built into it, along with the checkin booth that stands attached to what must be the owners house.
"So," Raven speaks at length as he settles down on one of the beds without disturbing the items he picked up earlier at Heron's house and placed on it prior to sitting down. "I'm thinking, I just can't let this pass. I owed the old man, and I've gotta at least try and do something about... what happened." He snorts then, his gaze slowly going over the items laid out on the bed. "'Course, I'm prolly in it whether I want to or not, if people in suits are looking for me where I hang out."
Raven raises his head, as his eyes seek out Liron's. "Question is, what about you, my friend?"
"I am thinking that both of us are bound into it now," Liron says. He produces the sheet music again and takes some paper from his duffel. He works on converting the music from piano to guitar in his head, without plucking out the strains just yet. While he works, he talks to Raven.
"Master Heron set me on the path I walk today. He saved me when things were ... grim. The least I could do is try and find out how and why this happened. So much doesn't yet make sense...." He glances at the box that Raven took from Heron's house, then asks, "How does that thing open?"
"We could try random combinations, which would take us several lifetimes," Raven responds, sighing. "Heron never really told me stuff like his birthday or, hell, anything else that could be used as a number he might've picked to lock it." He pauses, frowning as he thinks. "Unfortunately, I couldn't look back enough to see what combination he used. I could crack the box itself open, but that's something I don't wanna do just yet."
Getting another idea, Raven picks the box up and holds his hand over the first wheel. "I wonder," he murmurs, as he begins turning it slowly, hoping for a lucky break to guide his hand.
(Entropy 2: Games of Luck; 3, 5, 1)
The lock is remarkably resistant to Raven's efforts to open it in the conventional manner.
Cursing, Raven takes the box in both hands and holds it closer to his face, shifting it from side to side as he examines its surface. His mind flashes back to his lessons under Min-Li, as he tries to locate the right point to put pressure on the box to collapse the entire structure, or at the very least create a large enough hole in it without damaging its contents, taking his time.
(Entropy 1: Locate Disorder and Weakness; 2, 6, 9)
Raven shifts the box to the palm of his left hand, bringing it back. He makes sure it's not facing Liron or anything fragile like a mirror, and the holds out his right arm towards its surface, open-handed. That hand closes in on the box, skin touching against its wooden surface, and Raven traces it with his fingertips, feeling for that invisible weakness in the material. He inhales deeply and holds the air in for several long moments, before exhaling it slowly.
His right hand makes a fist, knuckles scraping the box. "Let's see if I still remember how it's done," Raven says, more to himself than for Liron's sake. His hand withdraws, the muscles in it tensing with anticipation, as he continues breathing in and out deeply. Then, when he exhales, Raven's right hand launches forward, fist headed for the box.
(Dex + Brawl to hit The Box! 1, 8, 10, 6, 4, 4)
(Str + 2 dice to damage The Box! 4, 10, 9, 2, 10)
The box shatters open before Raven's precise strike, broken into mere pieces in an instant.
What remains in Raven's hand is a gold pocketwatch, glittering softly in the light. Roman numerals count up from I to XIII about it, and it dangles from a long length of chain. Abruptly, it begins to tick away, second hand starting from XIII and moving about. The back of the device is enscribed with strange runes and symbols beyond Raven's understanding, but there's a palpable feel of urgency stemming from the clock.
"That maybe wasn't so good," Liron decides, frowning at the clock. "Thirteen hours ... or maybe not hours at all, eh?"
Liron hums thoughtfully, then plucks out, "It's the End of the World as we Know it (And I Feel Fine)" on his guitar, trying to see how long it will take the watch to get back to where it began.
(Time 2: Timesense: Roll 1: 5, 7)
"Yeah, my bad," Raven says apologetically, wincing. "Didn't expect the old man to leave a... what is it, anyway? A time bomb?" He shivers. "Sure has a feel of urgency around it."
His eyes track the seconds hand as it travels across the clock's surface slowly, as he turns the back of the device towards Liron. "Seems to me like the work of a hermetic, alright."
Two possibilities stretch out before Liron.
Either the watch will reach the thirteenth hour in thirteen hours....
...or it will never breach that time.
Liron sighs quietly, as the last notes fade away. "Well, feeling fine is well, but this is some bad news, brother. There's two things that can happen for that clock, and one of them involves the thirteenth hour never happening. If only we'd got to Heron sooner."
Putting up the guitar for the moment, Liron shakes his head and sighs again.
"All I got was a call asking me to meet him here," Raven says, shrugging helplessly. "I didn't get a chance to ask why, and by the time I got to his place...." He trails off, grimacing. "Do you know more about the trouble he seemed to be in?"
"Not a thing," Liron says apologitically. "I don't even know who Master Heron would have told his troubles to."
Raven sighs, pulling his feet up and under him to sit cross-legged on the bed. "Yeah, it's a shame. Seems like we don't have much to go on, aside from the strange clock I'm thinking Heron left, the ankh I saw the punks who busted up his house wore, and maybe... you got some music sheets, right? Think they're something Heron left for us to find?"
"And maybe they were just something for him," Liron says, looking at the sheet music again. "I could try playing it, but I don't know what might happen."
Raven gives the ticking watch in his hand a wry look. "What's the worst that could happen?" he asks, smiling as he turns to face Liron. "And now that I've jinxed us, I don't see a whole lot to lose by going with your suggestion."
Shrugging, Liron decides to try playing the song and see what happens.
(Dex + Perform to play the song on a guitar. Roll 1: 7, 10, 9, 7, 2, 4)
Raven listens as Liron plays, idly twirling the watch by its chain.
An interesting tune begins, a melody that slowly picks up pace. A constant backing beat accompanies the slowly accelerating tune, and Liron finds himself tapping his foot in time with the music.
How long does this tune go for, anyway? It's only a couple of sheets long, but Liron keeps finding more notes that he thought there were, the song getting more complex, but not beyond his ability to play.
Sounds from the road outside join in with Liron's guitar, the honk of horns, and the squeal of tires adding to the rhythm, not disrupting the flow of the tune. Liron practically finds himself lost within a seat of flowing music, effortlessly flowing from his fingers...
...a pause! Several bars worth; the next page stretches out before him, but Liron feels the tingle of magic on his hands, and realises that unless he gets out now, something very magical- and overt- will happen, with him as the source!
OOC: If you don't stop playing, make an arete roll. >_>
Furrowing his brow, Liron keeps up with the music -- or tries to, at least.
(Mysterious Arete Roll: Roll 1: 7, 2)
The music becomes frantic, suddenly, Liron playing notes that, to him, run literally off the page! Frenzied, carried almost above what he normally plays, he feels lyrics coming to him, faint straints reaching out from beyond, somewhere!
"Liron..." a voice seems to echo through his mind, from beyond the void, beyond this world?
OOC: Make a perception+awareness check.
Liron tries to concentrate on the music and the words.
(Per+Awareness: Roll 1: 7, 2, 3, 1, 8)
"Liron... Liron!"
The voice reaches out from.. somewhere, musical in nature, fitting perfectly in with the song that you are playing. The music is literally visible around you, now, swirling light and dancing notes transformed from sound into vision; even Raven sees as you continue to play.
"Liron.. I... from far beyond, I speak now," it whispers, familiar and ancient, all the same. Are you making this sound? The guitar truly is a versatile instrument...
Liron doesn't really need to think about where the sound is coming from too much. Jimmi Hendrix could make a guitar 'speak', and it actually almost sounded like words ... though, he played a twelve-string, and Liron's only got a six. Then again, Jimmi wasn't a mage, and Liron is.
Liron concentrates on maintaining and following the rythym.
(Wits+Expression to come up with lyrics to sing that ask the questions, "What happened to Master Heron? Where should we go from here?" and fit between the mysterious voice's own words. Specialization in improvization on Expression if applicable: Roll 1: 8, 9, 4, 9, 7, 5, 5 (no 0s, so it doesn't matter anyway :p))
Or was he? What makes a mage, apart from the will to change the world? Jimmi certainly changed the musical world... right?
Liron's words were probably meant to be in the song- there's no other way they'd flow so smoothly into and through it. Someone sings back, someone who isn't physically present-
o/"The blonde twins and clock strike two
In finding them, you'll get Heron's due
The cross leads the way;
Find who bears it to win the day.o/"
Liron cautiously relays what he heard to Raven, curious to see if there's more.
"Interesting," Raven comments, his eyes focused on Liron. "And what of the watch?"
Is there anything more? Nothing responds to Liron, and without further impetus on his part, the song will surely end.
Liron concentrates, not wanting to let the song fade just yet. It's possible that he could do it again, but it's also possible that this will only work once, and he'd rather not squander the chance.
(Wits+Expression to come up with more lyrics: "What is the watch for?" Specialization in improvization on Expression if applicable: Roll 1: 10, 6, 3, 2, 10, 6, 3 (W00t!: 1, 4 ... dang >_<))
The music rises to a feverish pitch, howling above the room and screeching out towards the world!
o/"When the Armageddon Clock strikes
The impossible hour
Two become one-
And a world is undone.o/"
An odd cross between mournful and hopeful tones clahses; a positive harmony and a negative melody ring true, yet false.
o/"With prophecised unity
Comes the burden of comradeship
The wedge that drives between two hearts
Is the shield and sword of nigh salvation.o/"
Chilled, Liron lets the song fade away, giving Raven a worried look. "I am not liking what I just heard," he whispers, after repeating everything to the other mage. "It worries me greatly. I think that we may wish to seek out allies in our cause; perhaps those who could divine more clearly than we."
"I suppose I could always ask Granny for help," Raven grudgingly admits, wincing, "but she's certainly not a Hermetic like Heron was. And I don't want to bring danger to her doorstep, either."
"This may be the best course of action," Liron muses. "Only a fool rushes in blind. I do understand that you want to avoid endangering others ... but more may already be at stake than we know."
"There's always the chance that someone in the area saw that blonde guy," Raven muses. "Not sure if showing our own faces back in town is worth the potential benefits."
He ruffles his hair suddenly. "Damn, I just don't know! Armageddon clocks, twins, unity and some sword and shield crap... I'm not exactly stupid, y'know, but other than understanding we should be working together to stop the world from ending, I'm grasping at straws here."
"Then we are in the same boat," Liron replies grimly. "I know people, but none of the people I know could help us here. That is ... I know the musical industry, but most of my friends are ... unaware. I do not think they would be able to aid us as we need." He considers, briefly, then brightens.
"When you do not know, seek knowledge. Perhaps we don't need to seek people! We merely need a good library." He pauses, frowning. "And time," he admits. "We need that. But we can, perhaps, make due. Where would we find such a library on this short notice, however?" Liron ponders this, wracking his mind for alternative answers.
"Austin's pretty close," Raven suggests, after thinking about Liron's question. "At least compared to any other large city I know of that has the library to suit our needs." He frowns, before the expression dissolves into one of uncertainty and he shrugs. "It'll take us a few hours to get there by car, but I don't see a better alternative, and we could always take a plane elsewhere from there."
As he waits for Liron's opinion on their course of action, Raven takes out his cell and dials his mentor's number, figuring she might know something useful about either the ankh or the Austin magical library.
The phone rings.. and rings.. and rings.. and picks up on the last dial, a gravelly voice speaking...
"Raven, lad, what are you up to?"
"Uncertainty with a side dish of trouble, it seems," he responds. "And how are you, Min-Li?"
"Older," replies the patient, yet so, so dry voice, a bundle of sarcasm and irritation combined with wisdom and patience.
"Nothing new, I see."
"I somehow knew you were going to say that," he responds dryly, before Raven's tone sobers. "My old friend and mentor, Heron, was killed."
"Killed, you say? That's unfortunate."
Her words are dry and the tone doesn't change at all.. but you know she's not such a cold person at heart, under it all.
"I suppose this wouldn't have anything to do with strapping young blondes inquiring to your whereabouts?"
"I wouldn't call that creep strapping," Raven tells her with a grimace, "but we're likely thinking of the same guy. Or guys, if there's a pair of blonds working together like I'm led to believe." He pauses, and takes out the ankh he got from Heron's house, holding it by the ripped chain in front of him. "There was this group of punks who trashed Heron's house afterwards. They all wore an ankh," Raven says, quickly describing it to Min-Li. "I don't suppose you'd know anything about it?"
"Not in particular," replies your grizzled mentor. "But know that the ankh is a symbol of rejuvenation, or perhaps rebirth.. many groups attribute significance to it. Many mystics, as well.. and things beyond the grave that rise again have been known to employ them."
"That sounds excitingly freaky," Raven says with a snort. "I wonder who Heron pissed off to have a thing from beyond after him, if your hunch's right. Speaking of beyond the grave," he continues, putting the ankh away once again, "there was this prophecy me and my new friend, Liron, received just now." Raven relates it as he heard it from Liron, word for word. "I saw the blond, or a blond like him, kill Heron. And the Armageddon Clock is a clock I set in motion, which wasn't all that smart a move in retrospect. We think there's at least thirteen hours before Bad Things happen, though, so it's all good."
Raven snorts to himself again. "Got any insight into my woes, oh Wise One? Cause one would sure be appreciated about now."
"You've got two hours until something happens, then," replies Mei, totally serious, rasping through the receiver. "'The blonde twins and clock strike two'- think on that for a moment."
There's a slight pause, where all you can here is raspy breathing. And then- "The other two parts of that are anyones guess, though... hmph."
"Yeah, I know," he agrees. "I'm not sure I see it as bad, though. The danger is mentioned when the clock strikes thirteen, so for all we know, it striking two could give me a vision of Heron's killers."
Raven shrugs. "I'm thinking, the ankh is the only cross-like thing we've come across, but I don't have any leads on the group wearing it. Like you said, it's too widely-used." He shakes his head. "I was thinking of heading to Austin to try and find some hermetic with a clue, but there's always the option of trying to find a lead on someone from the gang here. Do you think you could lend me a hand with research?"
"An Armageddon Clock, eh?" remarks Mei, eventually. "I'm not going to tell you what you look for, lad. Even a prophecy, with all the weight of destiny behind it, can go astray in this bland age." A hint of pain behind her words, memories that you will no doubt never see. "But I might be able to find something for you.
If you do go to Austin, I might be able to put you in touch with someone.. but, that thing say you'll win the day when you find more with the cross, so.. what do you think, m'boy?"
"There's no reason we couldn't do both, I suppose," Raven says, mulling it over. "We can't get to Austin in a couple of hours anyway, so we could spend some time snooping around here before heading there."
"Where there's a will, there's a way," she remarks.
"I've heard of this Liron person, too," she adds, switching to Chinese. "Be careful around that one."
"Anything in particular?" he asks her, sticking to English.
"That one's affiliations aren't known," she replies, distastefully sticking to Chinese. "He's been trained by Choristers, as well as Ecstatics. Our seperate.. traditions aren't the best of friends.
I'm not saying he's an enemy, or that you should trap your room. Just keep an eye out."
She chuckles humourlessly. "Consider it an assignment to get his measure."
"May all my troubles be like that," he responds, echoing her chuckle. "Thanks for the help, Granny. I'll try to thwart Armageddon and all that."
"We're all doomed," she remarks, chuckling harshly before continuing. "It's probably just some gradiose name... but, if it was in Heron's keeping-" did you even tell her you found it there? "-then it is of some importance.
Good luck, m'boy."
"Thanks again," he tells her. "Bye."
Hanging up the phone, Raven turns to look at Liron. "She'll try to find out more, but it's not looking too good. We'll also get help in Austin, but it might be best to check around town for those punks, first."
"Punks," Liron says distantly. "Punks like music. Music plays in clubs. There, my contacts may actually do us some good. I am certain that given time I can locate them ... but I do not know how much time we have."
Liron considers this. "If they are local, they may already be known," he decides with a nod. "I shall investigate. I think Samuel lives nearby; he knows much of the local music scene."
"Sounds like a plan," Raven agrees. "Let's give it an hour and some, and see about stopping the clock if we don't have anything by then."
"Sam", as he prefers to be called, lives in one of the many trailers about Roosevelt, a musician who has seen some better days. Liron doesn't really know him personally very well, but he's a friend-of-a-friend, which can go a long way (especially amongst aspirants who want to put together a band).
"Howdy, friend," he says, when he opens the door for Liron, country-western playing from a scratchy radio back in the vehicle. "'s Liron, right? Someone said you might be coming."
OOC: This sort of contact scheme work out for you, Brian? Catch and stab me if you wanted something else. =p
(OOC: Should be fine. :D)
Liron nods, offering a wry grin. "That's right," he says, nodding. "I hear there's quite a scene going on around here." Not waiting for a response, he quickly adds, "I've heard that there's call for punk music; you know the type. Kids with spiked hair, too much metal, carrying ahnks? It's not usually my own scene, but I thought I'd give it a try since everyone can use a drummer. Know anything about it?"
Liron tries his most winning smile.
(Charisma + Subtrefuge to get the info from Sam without giving out his real reasons; specialization in Friendly Smile if applicable: Roll 1: 2, 8, 7, 8, 8, 2)
"Oh yeah," replies Samuel, shrugging. "Don't know about playing that stuff around here, though bunch of jocks like the ones you mentioned showed up in the past while. Made a lot of noise around them bars, too. didn't like the old styles, y'know?"
"Yeah?" Liron asks, feigning surprise. "Well, that's something, then. I prefer the classics, but work's work, and it's better to have a wide portfolio, like they say. So where would this have been?"
"Down at the bar," replies Samuel. "One off the main road down the town, can't really miss it."
He frowns. "Bad talk about town started with those folks coming around, too. Ain't usual to get strangers like that around here."
Liron frowns, glancing over his shoulder at Raven. "Maybe not a good scene. Maybe better to avoid it." Shaking his head he says, "I gotta think about that. Still, it was nice seeing you, Sam. I need to find work somewhere -- any idea where might be better?"
Liron attempts to lead the conversation into small-talk for a minute, then apologizes and makes to part company, ready to investigate the bar in question.
It's getting kind of late, around 7:30. About half an hour after you started off the clock when you first got your hands on it.
The grungy bar seems fairly lively, a number of country types (more than a few of which are wearing cowboy hats) playing pool, kicking back a drink, and the like. The smell of tobacco and alcohol wafts about the none-too-clean building, Liron getting more than a few strange looks as he comes close..
Liron surveys the crowd for a minute, then whispers to Raven, "This may not be my scene. Have any thoughts on how we should do this?"
Raven snorts at Liron's words, before shrugging. "Maybe," he tells the other man. "Gimme a sec."
With those words, he moves over to the bar, signaling the bartender.
Dressed remarkably well compared to the denizens of the bar, the 'tender wears a clean shirt and black vest, along with a tie(!). Quite the counterpart to his surroundings, and he glances at Raven. "What can I get you, buddy?" he asks, a smile on his face.
"Beer," Raven responds, naming a local brand.
Beer is produced, and Raven's money taken. The bartender looks set to vanish somewhere else to serve another customer..
"Heard this place held some of those," Raven says, taking a swig from his beer, "punk music bands perform." He takes a sit at the bar, placing the beverage on the countertop. "Got them booked for tonight?"
"Perform? Uh-uh. Showed up and asked for some of that music? Yep."
The bartender doesn't seem too interested, just harried.
"I see," Raven mutters to himself, nodding at the bartender's words. "If I looked for a place that plays that kinda music, where would I go?"
"Somewhere that ain't Roosevelt," replies the bartender. "Good folks here, y'see.
Now, those punks, y'ask them. They reckoned some place, like, "Devil's Next" or some stupid shit was the place to be."
He snorts. "Young people these days. Idiots all."
"We are, sometimes," Raven agrees with a snort, and hands over a bill. "Another beer for my friend, please?"
The bartender pours another peer, glancing at Liron with some trepidation.
"Cheers," Raven tells the bartender, saluting with his beer, before making his way to Liron and handing him one. "Seems like we need to look for 'Devil's Next' or a similar-sounding club to find the ankh-wearing punks," he tells him quietly, taking a sip of his beer.
Liron nods agreement and brings his drink to his lips, but doesn't actually even taste it. "It's a place to look, and sounds like them," he agrees. After a moment he tries to flag down the bartender himself, and asks to borrow the phone book, if one is around. Then he looks up the address if it's there.
"Devil's Next" isn't under the clubs section, but a place called 'Devil's Nest' is present, somewhere in the Austin city centre.
Liron makes a swigging motion with his beer, careful not to imbibe (best not to get drunk too early, as Liron is a very cheap drunk), then elbows Raven gently and indicates the listing. "You think?" he asks very quietly, before scavenging some peanuts from the tray on the bar.
"Best clue we've gotten in a while," Raven mutters back just as quietly. "Let's go?"
Smiling ironically, Liron nods. "We've hardly time to waste," he agrees, pausing only long enough to seek out Steppenwolfe's 'Magic Carpet Ride' on the jukebox before leaving, if the bar's jukebox even has it before heading out.
They've got it, along with a number of classic numbers... the jukebox was imported from somewhere with all the songs already in it, but nobody in the bar seems to have been using it much, what with all the dust it's been gathering.