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Post by skati on Sept 3, 2011 15:31:38 GMT
OOC: So basically this is a prequel of sorts to Samhein. This takes place a couple years before Terry ever got to New York. He's 15 this time around.
The setting is a very blue collar town, heavily religious, superstitious, and pretty tight knit. It's a small town where everyone pretty much knows each other and secrets aren't usually kept for long, rumors spread quickly.
Usual rules of Samhein apply. All manner of supernatural creatures do exist, though most of the world is unaware of their existence. There are some exceptions and citizens from there may have a hard time adjusting to places they have to hide.
In this particular RP, there should not be a huge supernatural presence. The vast majority of the town are ignorant of the fact that supernatural creatures do exist (despite superstitions) and would fear them if ever they lay eyes on them.
Also, very few people, especially among humans and witches, should know for sure that Terry is a werewolf (though that doesn't mean they can't be suspicious of him if they believe such tales, or otherwise fear/wary of him). This would be limited to supernatural creatures that are able to distinguish the scent (such as other werewolves and vampires), the Acres couple that adopted Terry, and only a very small number (like two, three at most) of Terry's friends.
Anyway, without further ado.
IC:
All was quiet as Jonathan Acres scanned the forest. He was just one of many with flashlights, all searching for a clue of sorts. There had been a string of mutilated animals recently, some disturbing even hardened hunters. While at first it was just deer and other woodland dwellers, dogs and other pets, even a man, soon joined the dead.
The forest was the only common factor between these killings. The local residents have determined that a bear of some type was responsible. Jonathan wasn't so sure about that. As the town physician for both human and animal, Jonathan felt he would know quite well what a bear attack would look like. After all, he has seen them often, namely on foolish hunters and their dogs. These killings...it seemed to resemble a wolf attack, if only vaguely. After all, there isn't a wolf alive in that could do this kind of carnage.
That is the point of this night investigation. Jonathan was just one of many volunteers from town. There were about twenty of them altogether. Initially it was thirty, but ten had left not long before 1 am. The party consisted largely of hunters with rifles, though there were a few people, like Jonathan, lighting the area with flashlights and lanterns. Thankfully, no one has been injured tonight. At the same time, unfortunately, no evidence has turned up. No bear, no wolf, nothing.
“I found something!” a woman yelled.
Jonathan turned as he heard it. Already there was a crowd around it. Some of the hunters had rifles pointed at something, illuminated by the glow of flashlights. “Let me through,” Jonathan shouted as he shoved his way through. He gasped as he laid eyes on a boy, couldn't be older than twelve, lying naked on the ground. Blood coated the upper part of his skin, surrounding a long gash across his shoulders.
“Put your weapons down,” Jonathan commanded. As he spoke, Jonathan forcefully lowered those guns nearest him. “It's just a child.” The physician took his coat off and knelt beside the body. He started a bit when he noticed the gash was healing. Impossible, he thought. The blood looks too fresh for the wound to be healing this quickly. Jonathan shook his head. He must be imagining it.
The doctor wrapped his coat around the boy. As he did so, one of the hunters handed Jonathan his own coat. He nodded once and accepted it. Jonathan wrapped this one around the boy as well, turning him over in the process. He was startled to see a couple scars on the boy's left cheek. One was horizontal, the other vertical. The vertical scar was below the horizontal. Both looked jagged, as if cause by some wild animal. Jonathan shook his head and lifted the boy, albeit with some effort. Up above, the full moon glowed.
***
3 years later...
Terry woke up, instinctively shielding his eyes. The bedroom window was wide open, letting the morning rays fill the room. Had he forgotten to close it last night? With a growl, he tried to ignore it and rise out of bed.
A scent hit him then. The boy sniffed, another instinctive gesture. The smell definitely was pleasant. Recognition of it caused his stomach to growl and prompted him to move quicker. After all, he didn't want to miss breakfast on the way to the lake. After a quick shower and change of clothes, dark jeans and t-shirt along with a pair of black boots, Terry headed down. He didn't bother brushing his black hair, nor did he care when it fell into his blue eyes.
“Morning,” Rebecca Acres called. She was just putting food on the table as Terry came down. Her husband, Jonathan, was at the head of the table, eyes currently fixed on the paper he held in his right hand. A mug, smelled like coffee, was in his other hand. He merely nodded as Terry took a seat.
A plate full of food was placed in front of the boy. Terry smiled. Rebecca had a knack for cooking, even something as simple as eggs, bacon, and sausage. Terry immediately started to wolf it down, stopping only when he caught Rebecca's glare out of the corner of his eye. He quickly switched to a more normal eating pattern.
“Terry, were you out hunting last night?” Jonathan asked, putting his paper down. He was frowning as he looked at the boy.
That caught Terry off guard, so much so that he stopped eating altogether. “Yes,” he answered. “Took a bear, that one that took old man Sutter's leg. Thinking of giving its claws to him as a gift or something.”
Rebecca almost dropped her glass as she heard this. “Why would you do something so barbaric?” she questions, almost shrieking in the process.
Terry looks at her dumbfounded. “Repayment for his kindness,” he says, as if it were so simple. “He helped me and a few friends out not long ago when we were faced with a bear. I felt the best way to honor and thank him would be to hunt the bear that almost killed him, give the old man a souvenir.”
“If I hadn't actually seen you transform a year ago,” Jonathan commented with his head lowered, “your attitude alone would've convinced me, by now, that you were raised by wolves.”
“Nice to see it's sunk in by now,” Terry replied with a smile, intentionally showing his teeth. “Though I appreciate the fact that your and Mrs. Acres haven't run me out of town or worse. I really do.”
“Monster or not,” Jonathan said as he raised his head, smiling himself now, “you are still just a child.”
“I'm fifteen.”
“A child.” Jonathan raised his hand, signaling the end of that discussion. “Just be careful, Terry. Not everyone will be as kind as we are about your situation. Lord knows they ought to be, but there's no guarantee.”
Terry nods and finishes his breakfast in silence. Once done, he cleaned up his area and plate. “Thanks for breakfast, Mr. and Mrs. Acres.”
“Heading out?” Rebeca asks. A nod is her answer. “Have fun today, Terry,” she says with a smile.
Terry smiled back and waved as he left. Another quick brush of his teeth and Terry was off. Silently, he wondered who was at the lake already. It was supposed to be a decent group, all enjoying a mild summer day.
Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Rebecca took a seat by her husband. “What's on your mind, Jonathan? I know there's more to it than just idly wondering if Terry was out.”
Jonathan looked grave as his frown returned. “A man was killed last night, mutilated.”
“You don't think..?” Rebecca trailed off as a look of horror was on her face.
“I can only hope that I am wrong.”
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Post by Taya on Sept 7, 2011 16:33:51 GMT
Laying out on a rock in the sun, trying to dry off was a red headed nymph. Well, more accurately a girl soon to be fifteen. She was soaked from head to toe from the lake and didn't seem to care. In fact, she had a bright smile on her face as she drifted off. Though her stomach did grumble a bit. Being a runaway did have it's disadvantages.
Almost a year ago, just before her fourteenth birthday, there had been a terrible accident and she was the only survivor. The police claimed that the fire had been caused by a gas leak, but Morrigan Ravenhearst knew the truth. It had been murder. Most of the town had been in on it. They had feared the Ravenhearst family. A family that had lived there for generations along side them and helped them. But one foggy night that had all changed.
Morrigan, had been about 10 with scrapped knees and untamable red curls, was playing with some of the local children near an old mine. They enjoyed exploring and this seemed the perfect spot. But as they got closer, Morrigan would go no further. She begged the other children not to go, but most ignored her. Specifically, the son of a city council member. He ignored the hysterical fit Morrigan began throwing. He called her scared and a baby as she cried in tears not to go inside the mine.
"The birds don't sing. The birds don't sing." Morrigan had sobbed. The others tried to comfort Morrigan and convince the boy to let it be, but he went in anyway. Little Morrigan had gone stiff and would not move as if she was made of stone. Then she screamed as loud as she could exactly when the cave in started.
Very few believed that the youngest Ravenhearst was innocent of the boy's death. But none could prove her guilt. It didn't help that over the course of the next few years people began to antagonize the girl and her family.
One time, the kids in school had locked, Morrigan in one of the storage cupboards in the basement at school. It wasn't until her mother came to pick her up several hours later that anyone found her. Seeing her fear of the cupboard, the children, who were now turning into malicious preteens, began to ambush her and trap her in closets, sheds, and even once the cliched locker. She still hated small dark spaces to this day.
The day before the fire, Morrigan had been showering after gym class. When she got out, her clothes and all the towels were missing. She was contemplating on which of her classmate's lockers she should break into and steal thief gym clothes to wear, when a large hand covered her mouth and another held her hands as an accomplice duck taped them behind her back. A blindfold was tied around her eyes. The dark made her scream but that didn't help now that tape was placed over her mouth. Now she really began to panic as she was carried out of the locker room. The tape came out again as she was placed on her feet and help against a a cold metal pole. Soon she was taped to the pole and multiple pens began writing on her. Morrigan could tell the word across her chest was 'WITCH'. When her mother found her covered in patches of thrown mud and hurtful words, including 'MURDERER', she went to town square and rang the old emergency bell until the whole town was present.
"This town shall whither and die!" Vivianne Ravenhearst's voice echoed even up to her own house on the hill where Morrigan's aunt was healing her. "I curse this land and all who come from it! There will be no new life in this town ever again and you will never find peace in it's passing. When you die your souls will be trapped here as a reminder of the evils you have done. Even if you move far from this doomed town you spirit shall return for eternity."
The next day, the townspeople had set fire to the Ravenhearst home. Vivianne had pushed her daughter out the cellar window with barely seconds to spare. Morrigan had even suffered a bad burn on her left calf. She limped to the woods and tried desperately to put out the flames. but panic had set in and she could never focus enough to cast spells when she panicked.
A month later, she was found in a different state and refused to tell anyone her name. So Jane was put into a girl's home, where she spoke to no one and soon disappeared.
Morrigan had stumbled across another small town and was stealing some bread of a window sill when she first met 'him'. That was months ago and Morrigan had actually stuck around.
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Post by skati on Sept 13, 2011 12:14:54 GMT
Terry chose to walk to the lake rather than ride his bike. It would take longer, sure, but he just felt like walking. Truthfully, it would be much quicker to just shapeshift and be done with it, though Terry knew that would be stupid. The last thing the town, or himself for that matter, needed was a werewolf hunt. Idly, a cruel smile touched the boy's lips at the thought. As if they could really do anything. Still, they were friends, some of them. It'd be best to stay human, like Mr. Acres had suggested. Well, except on the full moon.
Hours had passed before Terry finally arrived at the lake. There were actually a lot more people from school out here today than he expected. Why not, though? It was somewhere between 10 and 11 am now anyway. There looked to be about twenty people or so. Good thing the lake was pretty big overall.
Terry had to hold back a growl, too many people here for that, as he was suddenly splashed with water. At first, all he noticed was the rope swinging back to the tree it was attached to. Not long after that, an auburn haired girl, no more than sixteen, popped out of the water. "Sorry about that, Terry," she said with a giggle. Climbing out of the lake, Terry could see she was dressed in a bathing suit (if cut off jeans and a yellow bikini top could be called such) of sorts. Looking around, Terry could see it wasn't any worse than most of group.
"Bobby Jo," Terry nodded. She was about as tall as him, maybe an inch shorter. "I see you were able to get your parents to let you skip farm work today." A nod and smile from her. "Surprised to see so many. Thought it was just going to be a few of us."
"Small town, Terry," Bobby Jo said with a shake of her head. "Word spreads around quickly. It'll be fine though, as long as none of our parents show up. Or worse." As the last bit was added, she turned to scowl at a small grouping of boys behind her, staring with not so decent interest.
It was Terry's turn to smile, though his was more animalistic. "I can take care of them, you know." He started towards them though was quickly stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"No, it's OK. I can take care of them myself."
It didn't matter. As soon as they saw Terry's smile, they cowered and left. "See? No harm, no foul."
Bobby Jo sighed as she and Terry started walking towards a grouping of rocks. "You can be very, very creepy at times, Terry. As if you aren't even human."
Terry laughed. "I'm not," he said simply. A joke, though true as well. Still, she didn't know that. Very, very few people in town did.
A set of towels were laid out on the rocks, as well as bags with clothes. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a familiar red head. "Morning," Terry said to her as he took his shirt off, revealing himself to be in pretty damn good shape for his age, though not overly muscular either. Next came his shoes and socks. However, the boy left his jeans on. They were short (though ending around his knees), so he felt they were fine as is. Terry heard a gasp behind him. He knew what it was for. Someone had just seen the scar on his back for the first time. It was long, after all, as if an animal took a swipe at him. Funny enough, that wasn't too far from the truth.
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Post by Taya on Sept 15, 2011 23:58:47 GMT
Morrigan smiled and opened her eyes at the sound of his voice. He stood there ready to join in the fun without his shirt. She wondered if he had brought her anything to eat. The fish hadn't been biting early this morning and all she had eaten was some berries she had found. But it looked like he had just shown up with the clothes on his back and Morrigan hid her disappointment as she spoke,
"Morning? It's nearly eleven, lazy bones." Morrigan laughed as she rolled over on to her stomach to look at him. She crossed her ankles in the air and propped her chin up on her hands. "Half the day is gone."
She shook her cropped red hair and grinned at Terry to make it clear she was just joking around. Terry. The reason she had stayed in this tiny town. She was inexplicably drawn to him since the day he caught her stealing the bread off his kitchen window sill.
His back had been turned and the woman had been upstairs, so Morrigan's hand ha found itself reaching up. But quick as lightning he had caught her hand in his. It was like he knew she was there the whole time and her concealment charm hadn't done any good against him. He was too strong for her as she tried to runaway. Instead, he had picked her up through the window and pulled her inside. Not that she weighed much without three meals a day and only what she could scavenge, but it scared her enough to be silent.
After looking her over, he sat her at the table and made her a sandwich, then watched as she scarfed it down like a hungry wolf.
Morrigan's smile turned soft as she remembered.
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meilstrom
One Of God's Mistakes
Posts: 23
Hogwarts House: Gryffindor
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Post by meilstrom on Oct 1, 2011 0:58:45 GMT
OCC: I was trying for one of those old style PI movie voice overs with this post. I love the old style PI radio shows and wanted to write something in that style. I'm thinking of changing to the 3rd person again later on when my char starts interacting with others but I haven't decided yet. Also. The name of the tavern/pub was skati's idea ICC: The Red Barn was a seedy joint in a small backwater hole of a town nestled in a valley surrounded by mountains. It was one of those small towns with the old style religious values where everyone knows everyone and people smile and wave to each other as they pass each other on the street. One of those places where people can pretend to be living the “American Dream” and live in their cozy illusion without ever knowing the truth. The truth that it is all just an illusion and that dark secrets lie just beneath the surface. Dark secrets that always come to the surface when I'm around. Not that I'm nosey. I really don't care who's cheating with who or syphoning gas from his/her neighbours, who is skimming money from the register of the local store, or any of that other crap but, in some cases, I can't help it because its my job. I'm the one that mistrusting and insecure spouses hire to follow their husband or wife around to catch him/her cheating, to investigate matters that are too minor for the police to bother with or, on the rare occasion, the matters that the client doesn't want the police involved. I'm a private eye. It says so on my business cards and I'm damn good at my job. I have an advantage over others in my profession, I have what some call a sixth sense. If I hold an object I know its history, I shake someones hand and I know things about them, I hold something that was important to someone and I can find tell things about that person or even find where they are. I can fell when people are around me and their emotional state or even tell if people are in a room before I enter it. I can even find missing objects, especially if that object has a history to it. Some would call it a blessing, others a curse, I say its both. I was hired over the phone by a man who called himself “Mr. Big”. I told him it sounded like something from a bad porno movie the first time he called and hung up but he kept calling back until I heard him out. He told me that he had a client whose daughter had gone missing in the area and he was hiring someone to look into it for him. Claimed the local police were doing nothing to investigate the matter. I didn't need psychic powers to tell he was telling me a lie, deal with as many people as I have and you can see right through everyone eventually. He said the alias was to keep his anonymity but it didn't matter. I could find him no matter how much he tried to hide... Especially if he tried to stiff me on the bill. As I approached the door to the tavern I reached out with my mind and searched the inside of the building. An old habit that saved my life more times than I care to count. There were only three people inside, none of them near the door. I entered the tavern and looked around. There was an old man in the corner watching horse races, flipping a coin, and obsessing over the results. Behind the bar was a middle aged woman that looked like she had been through a few rounds with a champion boxer. The third person was obviously the cook in the kitchen. I approached the counter and ordered a beer and a sandwich called “The Executive”. Where the hell did they come up with these stupid names? “So. Who are ya and where ya from?” She asked. She looked like someone lit her face on fire and put it out with a chain but she had a good heart. In a fair world thats all that would matter, but the world is far from fair. “I'm John Smith. I'm here to do some fishing. Know any good spots?” I said with a friendly smile. Both were lies of course but I never use my real name on the job and, even though the town will know why I was there soon enough, I wanted to keep the reason I was in town secret for a little while longer. People always clammed up when they knew a PI was snooping around. “You don't look like a fisherman” she said, pointing at how I was dressed. I was wearing an old light brown trench coat with a dark brown suit and tie underneath. “Well, obviously I don't fish in this suit.” I said with a laugh “I just like to dress like this.” She shrugged and said “Best fishing is in White Fish creek. It feeds the lake from the north. But your better off fishing in the lake.” “Why is that?” I asked “Bears. There have been some sightings in the area and you don't want to run into them in the woods.” She said. An obvious lie. The truth of the matter I was here to find out. My client didn't say much about the case except that people were disappearing in the area. I knew it wasn't the whole story and I wasn't going to like the rest of the story but I was offered a very generous price for finding the girl so I took the case. “Thanks for the suggestions. I'll be sure to check out the lake.” I said. “That'll be nine fifty.” She said and went to the back to get my lunch. I looked in my wallet and my heart sunk. I only had five dollars on me and the bar didn't take credit cards. I couldn't even use it since I was using a fake name. I didn't want to go to the car and get more money. Then I remembered the old man in the corner. I knew he was a compulsive gambler. His aura stunk of it. He was the type that would bet someone that the sun wouldn't rise the next day if he thought there was any chance in hell he would be right. “Sir” I said “You look like a man who likes to take a risk. I have a proposition for you.” The old man paused for a moment considering. I knew what the old man was going to say even before he made up his mind to say it. I've dealt with people like that in the past and they were all the same. “I'm listening” he said. He had a low raspy voice that was thick with the frustration of a long loosing streak but there was also a hint of hope that his loosing streak was going to come to an end. I almost felt sorry for him. “I bet you the cost of lunch. $9.50. That the next three times you flip your coin it will come up heads.” There was a 12.5% chance that would happen. A suckers bet, but I had inside information. The old man was silent for a moment, considering the odds. “Yer on.” he said and flipped the coin three times and swore. “Gudamit. Ya must have horseshoes shoved up yer backside young man.” He said and handed me the money. “Now take yer winnins and leave me be.” When he handed me the money our hands touched. I try not to touch people whenever I can. I can tell things about them when I do. The old man had a long string of losses. He was on the verge of loosing his house and his family as a result. He got to the point where he was desperately looking for a big payout to pay off his debts that would never come. I looked at the TV. The next race was in five minutes and there was a bunch of info sheets on each horse on the table with Golden Dawn circled. Golden Dawn was going to loose the race. “I shouldn't tell you this.” I said “But I know what it's like to be down on your luck. I'm close friends with the owner of Silver Blaze and I can tell you that he is a sure thing for the next race.” “Wha?” The old man said “Silver Blaze has never won a race an Golden Dawn is in much better shape an more experienced.” “I know.” I said “But I saw Silver Blaze run the track almost 2 seconds faster than Golden Dawn. It's the owners best kept secret. He plans to make a killing on this race. I myself have ten grand on him.” The old man considered what I said. I could feel the faint glimmer of hope get stronger and quickly replace his scepticism. Suddenly he looked me in the eye and asked “How do I know you aint just messin with me?” And there it was. My answer would have to be good if I was going to convince him to change his bet. “You don't. And to be honest, I don't care if you take my advice or not. I just wanted to do a man who looked down on his luck a favour because I know what it's like.” I turned and walked to the counter. The old man sat silently for a moment and then, making up his mind, he rushed to the phone to bet on Silver Blaze. The woman was waiting for me when I got to the counter. “You shouldn't a messed with old Jake like that. He's a good man an deserves respect.” She said. I half expected her to call him 'ol Greg' or worse 'Jebediah'. I pulled the sandwich and beer to my side of the counter and was glad that nobody had spat in it. “Think what you want but Silver Blaze is going to win the next race. Keep the change.” I said while handing her $14.50, being careful not to touch her hand in the process. I didn't want to know what had happened to her face, the old mans past was depressing enough. After I finished my lunch I brought the plate and empty bottle to the counter, thanked the woman again for the fishing advice, and left the Red Barn. The last thing I heard as I walked out the door was the old mans cry of triumph as Silver Blaze was announced the winner. I smiled as I walked back to my car. My destination was the local flophouse. I hoped I could find a decent bed and breakfast.
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Post by skati on Oct 25, 2011 18:44:52 GMT
"May as well be morning," Terry replied with a yawn. "Glad to see you decided to join us. Not much else to do though, I suppose. Sorry, I don't have any food on me this time."
Terry craned his neck back to see behind him. A sudden splash caught his attention. There were two couples, each male and female, in the water. One of the girls was on one of the guys' shoulders. The other was just coming up out of the water.
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Post by Taya on Dec 19, 2011 21:03:18 GMT
"lotta good you are." Morrigan said sticking her tongue out at Terry. She rolled her eyes at what these southerners thought of as fun. It had even annoyed her to pick an alias that was just as droll. Her own name had color and character. But Sarah Jane was a forgettable name and plain as plain could be. Perfect for some one who didn't want to stand out. Her features already made it hard enough to modify people's memories of her. Besides messing with other's minds was always tricky. She had never tried it on Terry and unless he found out who and what she was, Morrigan doubted she ever would.
"are you just going to stand there like Adonis? Or are you going in?" Morrigan asked with a smirk as she stood and walked over to Terry. Just because she didn't mess with his mind didn't mean she couldn't mess with the rest of him. She gave Terry a shove towards the water as the spot he was standing became mysteriously slick and slippery.
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meilstrom
One Of God's Mistakes
Posts: 23
Hogwarts House: Gryffindor
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Post by meilstrom on Jan 3, 2012 6:13:54 GMT
I walked along the path toward the main entrance of the fourth flophouse on my list of potential places to stay. The first two were just people that were renting rooms for use out of their houses. Houses that were nowhere near large enough to rent rooms and looked so unsanitary that I would rather drink fifty cups of coffee and spend a night in the Winchester mansion without a map to the bathroom. The third looked like the hotel from Psycho and called itself "Lake view Lodge". It was odd enough that "lakeview" was spelled with two words instead of one without fact that the place didn't even have a view of the lake. The place reminded me of that movie about the hotel in the middle of nowhere that would kill people in the rooms and record it to sell to the maniacs that lived nearby. Now, anyone dumb enough to try to attack me in my hotel room in the middle of the night would find themselves on the business end of a .38, but I would rather be able to sleep in a place that didn't remind me of a murder hotel.
The establishment I was currently approaching was simply called "The Willows". The name was no doubt due to the weeping willows planted on either side of the path and in a few other spots around the yard. A cautious step off the path showed me that the ground was slightly spongy under foot. The ground was very damp and the willows were planted to absorb the moisture from the ground. Judging by their size, the trees were really healthy and had been planted a long time ago. The bed and breakfast building looked like an old mansion. It was a large brick building with a large porch in the front. The porch was held up with large round pillars and had a few tables with chairs surrounding them. It looked like a small coffee shop. As I approached the front door I heard a whippoorwill call in the distance. It was odd to hear it call since they are usually nocturnal. It made me think of the old legend that the whippoorwill call is an omen of death. I pushed the thought aside and entered the mansion.
Inside, the mansion was decorated in a mixture of old style furnishings and modern decorum. The light fixtures were made to look like older gas light fixtures and the furniture was made out of wood and fabric. Overall the place looked expensive. Looks like my client was going to regret writing me a blank check for my services. I found a large desk with an elderly woman sitting behind it. Why does it seem that there is always an elderly woman running the fancier bed and breakfast establishments?
“Hi there. Can I help you?” she said in a TV like sweet grandma voice.
' Nope. Just thought I would walk into the first house I saw while I was walking down the street. Here's your sign.' I thought before replying. “Yes. I'm looking for a place to stay while I'm in town.”
“How long are you planning to stay?”
“Depends on how good the fishing is.”
She laughed. “You may just be staying forever then.”
I chuckled back “Are there any rooms available?”
“Sure are” she got a ring of keys from one of the desk drawers. “Come on. You can pick one you like.”
We went through every room in the place while she talked on and on about local gossip and some of the history about the house. Some of it was interesting but not at all useful to me. I was more interested in checking each room. I wanted one that had a single bed, would be easy to sneak out of unseen, had its own bathroom, and couldn't be accessed from any other rooms. Unfortunately they all had double beds. I used to not care about that until I had a vision in my sleep about one of the couples who had stayed in the room before me. Ever since then, I try to sleep in rooms with single beds only. The last room we went to was perfect. The windows faced the forest behind the mansion. There was a small balcony with a large willow right nearby to rush too after climbing down. The room itself felt unused so I could sleep in the bed. I was worried I would have to get out the cot I keep in my car.
“I'll take this one.” I said.
“Well. I took you here last because nobody actually stays in this room.” The elderly lady replied.
“Why not?”
“Well. You see. It's haunted. A man hung himself in this room.”
Of course that didn't happen. If it had I would have noticed the second I walked into the room. My grandma used to say that places absorb energy released by the people that inhabit them and thats what causes hauntings, not actual spirits. I don't know if its true but it makes sense. I've never run into any actual ghosts.
I laughed “Houses don't have memories.” I said “I'll take the room.”
“Alright” the elderly woman replied with a hint of reluctance in her voice. “Come on. We'll get the paperwork out of the way, you can move your things in, and you can join me and the other guests for a late lunch.”
I wasn't too interested in being social but I needed to keep up the appearance of someone out here on vacation, and it is always good to know a bit about the people staying with you.
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Post by skati on Jan 8, 2012 23:05:45 GMT
Terry looked back blankly. "Adon-wh..." That was about as far as he got. The next thing he knew, the teen was hitting the water. Terry could hear the laughter as he got out. A glare got those immediately around him to shut up.
"Funny," Terry muttered. He stuck his hand into the lake and threw some water towards Morrigan.
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Post by Taya on Jan 11, 2012 14:54:49 GMT
Morrigan laughed as the water hit her and resisted the temptation to dry herself with the elements. Laughter had been such an odd thing before she met Terry. Before, nothing could take her thoughts off her fears of her peers. After she ran away that changed to fear of being caught and dragged back to her home town. But Terry changed that, he made it so easy to forget and Morrigan could just be a normal teenage girl, as normal as Morrigan was going to get any how. So for someone trying to keep a low profile, her next stunt was probably not the best idea.
With a smirk at Terry, Morrigan ran to the edge of the highest point above the water and did a perfect swan dive with barely a splash. She surfaced with a triumphant laugh.
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Post by skati on Jan 29, 2012 18:39:57 GMT
Terry just smiled as he watched Morrigan. "Not a chance," he muttered to himself as she reached the highest point. He really didn't expect her to jump, not from that height. Still, a smile touched his lips when she actually did it. As she hit the water though....everyone watching went quiet, surprised and shocked by the lack of a splash.
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Post by Taya on Feb 2, 2012 11:40:39 GMT
Morrigan's laughter died quickly as she noticed the near deafening silence. Everyone was staring at her and her stomach flipped. She had gotten too comfortable. Had thought these people were 'friends'. People like her don't have friends. Couldn't have friends was a better definition. They would all remember this and she certainly couldn't adjust everyone's memory.
To not add more wood to the fire, Morrigan climbed out of the water and flipped her hair as if this was an everyday occurrence. She gave Terry a smile and a nod as she headed for the trees. Once she made it away from those peering eyes, she could dry herself off using magick.
Morrigan tried not to run. She also tried to block out the stares which reminded her of home. Her steps were slow and deliberate to conquer her fears.
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meilstrom
One Of God's Mistakes
Posts: 23
Hogwarts House: Gryffindor
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Post by meilstrom on Feb 21, 2012 1:54:36 GMT
I returned to my room and collapsed onto the bed. The old ladies idea of a late lunch was sitting around, drinking tea, and gossipping for an hour. It didn't help that the 'other guests' were a bunch of her friends and no one else was actually staying there. Normally gossips are good for getting information. Theres nothing they like more than blabbing about other people, especially if its a secret. The problem is they also like to embellish what they say to make it more interesting, or even make things up altogether. But, for a detective with a good bullshit detector, they were very useful for information. The real challenge was getting them to talk about what you wanted without actually asking about it. Seem too interested in something and they get suspicious and start trying to get new gossip out of you. Among all the useless tidbits and conjecture I was able to find some useful information. Apparently the area has been plagued by animal attacks. The old lady, whose name was Belle, tried to play it down by saying that animal attacks were common in a remote area but Herman, a particularly nosey old man, said that it happened once every month. He believed that it was a serial killer and the police were covering it up by claiming it was an animal attack. He also listed off people that he thought may be involved. No doubt people he didn't like. There was no way a human killer was behind the attacks. If it was a human, the state police or the FBI would be involved by now. But there was always the possibility of a serial killer who killed using attack dogs could be behind it. Either way, it didn't look good for the woman I was here to find. I would need to see the coroners report from one of the attacks or see the body itself. I was going to have to steal some records or break in to the coroners office later. I had a small digital camera I could use to copy the files. Herman then started harassing me with questions. Where are you from? What do you do? What kind of jobs can you do in that field? What company do you work for? And many more. Normally you can give someone a simple answer without any details and they will leave it at that but this guy wanted everything spelled out. I eventually said that if he wanted my life story he could wait until I publish my memoirs like everyone else. The others got a laugh out of that. I then excused myself and made my getaway. I got the information I needed.
It was time for me to explore my surroundings. I decided I would get to know the buildings in the area and also do a quick sweep of the forest around and approach the house from the back. I unpacked some sightseeing gear and a map of the area. If anyone saw me they would think I was just wandering around aimlessly like a tourist. I changed into a pair of black cargo pants and a white tee shirt. I rubbed a large scar on my left forearm absentmindedly as I considered what I had heard. Animal attacks in the area could mean a sick animal but they would be more frequent and would have stopped once the animal died. It was possible that a pack of wolves or a bear was hunting people for food but animal attacks were a lot rarer than people thought, even in a remote area such as this. Then again. Wolfs and bears don't normally see humans as a food source. Unless they were starving and looking for anything to eat they wouldn't attack us. The largest number of animal attacks comes from dogs. It was more likely that a pack of wild dogs was roaming the area than another type of animal attack. I would have to talk to some of the local hunters and see if there have been any changes in the local wildlife populations. I was nearly killed by a dog once. People will do anything to keep their secrets. On one of my first cases, a woman ordered her dog to attack me. It should be illegal to teach dogs attack commands. I got lucky. It was one of the few times I was carrying my gun. I had a feeling I should carry it with me that time. When I stuck out my left arm to protect my throat, it grabbed it instead. I was able to draw my gun with my right hand and shoot it. My arm was still pretty mangled but I recovered. And she had the audacity to call me the murderer. I took a dark grey turtleneck sweater out of my suit case. It weighed about 5 lbs. I had it custom made when I got out of the hospital after the dog attack. It looked like a simple wool sweater but, woven inside the fabric, was a chain mail shirt and collar. I had a coat with chain mail as well but it would make me stand out too much. I wanted people to see me, think that I was a city man who had seldom seen the country before, and then quickly forget about me. Before leaving, I took a small Leatherman knife, just in case.
The area near The Willows was set up to handle tourists. It had a bunch of small shops selling random knickknacks and 'locally made' treats, arts and crafts. The place really did give a sense of peace and serenity. I was just starting to enjoy my walk when I got the feeling someone was watching me. I ignored it at first. A newcomer would always draw some attention but the feeling kept nagging at me. I looked around and didn't notice anyone paying me any more attention than a casual glance. I turned toward the nearest shop and pretended to window shop. Just down the street behind me I saw Herman. He stopped and jumped into the nearest doorway. I almost laughed. The nosey bastard actually thought that he could tail me. It was about time I moved on to the forest anyway. I crossed the street so that I was on the edge of the town. Their was only about sixty feet between the rear of the buildings and the forest. Just enough to prevent any trees from falling on the buildings but not enough to ruin the remote feel of the area. Herman was still right behind me. He was on the opposite side of the street still. I guess he figured that I had nowhere to go. I saw a bus coming up the street and stopped to look in the shop behind the bus stop. When the bus started to drive off I jogged beside it quickly and ducked into an alley. When I got to the end of the alley I ran along the back of the building before turning and going into the forest. That way, if Herman looked down the alley he wouldn't see me. As I entered the forest I almost regretted not being able to see his face as he realized that I lost him. I should have turned the tables on him and started following him around town but I had a job to do.
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Post by skati on Feb 22, 2012 14:37:59 GMT
There was talk amongst the gathered teens. "How did she do that? That's impossible. We must've just missed the splash. We must've just imagined it."
Terry himself wasn't entirely sure what to think. His senses were naturally sharper than a normal human's. There should've been a splash. There should've been something. It wasn't natural. A smile touched his lips then. Then again, neither am I. At least to these monkeys.
"Terry, where are you going?"
Terry turned to see who had spoken. It was Bobby Joe. "Just going to check on her," was all he said. he saw her nod and give a soft smile.
The teen followed Sarah. Though curious as to how she pulled that stunt, right now Terry was more worried about her. Despite that smile, reassuring as it was, she didn't seem to be alright.
"Sarah?" Terry called as he neared the trees.
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Post by Taya on Feb 22, 2012 17:54:52 GMT
Morrigan heard Terry's voice just before she started her spell. She could disappear into the the deeper shadows of the trees and ignore him. With a shiver though, she knew he would still be able to find her. He always could. So she remained soaking wet and wandered deeper in to the forest.
"Over here, Adonis" Morrigan called.
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