Summary

Participants

Overview

Following David Santos's account that he thinks his medication is more than what it seems, a group of Garou investigated David's apartment to gather evidence and personal items. They successfully infiltrated, discovered crucial intelligence, and escaped despite familiar, unwelcome faces arriving to check the location -- the same two who were originally after the young man in hiding during the Search Party.

They found David's prescription bottles, which appear to Selene to be somehow magically influenced if not outright corrupted, an appointment card for Dr. Raymond Nugyen, another doctor's business card (Dr. Rajani Deshpande) with a note ("David, we're concerned about your missed appointments. Please call to reschedule."), a suspiciously pristine Gulf Coast Rehabilitation Center pamphlet, medical transfer letters pressuring David to see Dr. Deshpande, and some evidence someone was recently here.

Emma and Tori were able to to secure some of David's personal items, like photos and a sentimental toy.

Hallah, acting as lookout, warns the group of the arrival of two agents, and they make their exit after an awkward standoff made possible by the Rage keeping the two at cautious bay.

And so they leave, not only with evidencee, but implications: Smith International has David's home address, they're probably conducting regular check-ins/surveillance, the people involved defer to supernatural pressure but don't flee entirely.

Later, Marion and Hallah return so that Hallah can listen in on the apartment and see what she can fish out. She overhears the two people they had a stand-off with, and that they're going to 'report' the incident up the chain.

Log

(Intelligence + Streetwise rolls are gathered.)

Ajax - ah, yes, how rustic, how working-class, and so conveniently close to the airport and the ship channel, a veritable hub of activity and adventure!! Why, it's only a few miles from a number of plants, and the neighborhood is predominantly latino and black, with some Vietnamese families sprinkled in!"

Tori - this is not a violent neighborhood by your standards but it's not safe either. You won't have trouble yourself since the issues you'd face out here are things like break-ins, burglaries, domestic violence - keep your head down, owe no money, flash nothing, you'll live worry free. It's just a tangleof hustlers and users living paycheck to paycheck, too poor to be 'good' territory.

Emma - This is the shithole road Jeff grew up on! You never really went over to this specific neck of it much but Jeff never really spoke highly of it.

Hallah - You know roughly this is the place near the airport with factories and such, but not realy a lot in depth.

(The group will be arriving in Hallah's RV, with Tori going umbral to scout and open the door from within).

(Medina) The blood of Houston's working class pumps through Telephone Road, which runs north-south like a concrete artery, and even on this autumn afternoon the heat doesn't break, it just thickens, settles, and the humid air is like a wet blanket to wade through.

The auto shop David Santos had flagged as a landmark - Quick Fix - sits on the corner like a concrete toad. Skyline itself is a narrow capillary barely wide enough for two cars to pass if someone pulls over, no sidewalks, just the ragged edges of asphalt crumbling into dirt and patchy, dead St. Augustine.

The apartments sit back from the road in a loose U-shape configuration. They're two-story buildings the color of cigarette and coffee stains that used to be 'adobe' or 'beige', with exterior staircases and shared balconies running the length of each floor and they scream 'I was slapped together in the 70s for bottom dollar'. It's very cookie cutter: the metal stairs that ring hollow when you walk on them, the railings that wobble if you lean too hard, the fact you can hear almost everything, from your upstairs neighbor's spat to your next door neighbor's insistence on playing ESG for the 87th night in a row.

The apartment parking lot is full of a mix of sedans and trucks owned and driven by regular people stretching a dollar. Faded paint, patched quarter panels, tinted windows with the tint starting to purple and bubble in the Texas sun. Here and there, rust blooms on hoods and roofs, seasoned in by how the air itself carries chemical residue from the plants that line the Ship Channel a few miles east, a slow corrosion, a patient poisoning.

(Hallah) Hallah came along because Ajax invited her and the crafter was just curious and desiring enough to be helpful to a new sept to tag along. She is adorned in a long grey thermal shirt worn under a blue and white oversized plaid shirt, hold jeans with patches of frogs and old tennis shoes. It is all very 90s thrift store grunge. Her long brown hair is held in a ponytail with a plaid homemade scrungie. She carries along a basket of supplies, well supplies like knitting needles anyways, does that count? You never know! Hallah's care is actually an Rv and she was happy to bring it. It has tons of room and can fit everyone. It is an old RV and the inside has all sorts of um junk or treasures mean to be sold at the swap meet. Hallah was happy to drive and she drives pretty good.

(Hallah) There is a lot of knit homemade stuffies around the van theme for halloween, like little knit bats and so forth.

(Medina) As Tori pushes through the gauntlet, she feels it immediately: the malaise of this place, from generations of poverty, exploitation, exposure, hangs like a miasma. Again, the patient poisoning, the slow corrosion. It's a quiet erosion from the crushing demands of a life one can barely live when they're counting pennies. It's all very threadbare, tired. The apartment buildings are a glimmering idea there, but they're faded like photocopies ran through the xerox too many times. The stairs are there but more skeletal, like metal ribs on a snake's dessicated corpse, and you can't quite see when you look right at them but could swear are there when you look away. Most of the cars appear as semi-transparent wireframe sketches, Pattern Web spirits crawling over them, maintaining their shapes but barely. These are just tools, vehicles, nothing more.

(Ajax) Ajax had decided to sprawl out in one of the nooks of the RV, just for the novelty of the affair, with his arms folded across his chest and his neck propped up against the back of the enclave he was resting in. His awareness of the neighborhood was dim, and his preoccupation was mostly wondering how long he should take before he heads to the bathroom to stare at a mirror and check on Tori on the other side - and the resisting of that urge. He decides to abate his concern for the Philodox by expressing genuine gratitude. "Thanks for driving us out here, Hallah -- especially on such short notice," he says, with a dopey smile in the driver's seat direction. Ultimately, his gaze drifted to the dessicated almost-barrio outside, despite himself.

(Tori rolls Perception + Alertness vs 6 for 1 success)

(Selene) Selene has been sitting in one of the seats near the junk and kind of picking a couple of the obviously loose pieces up. It seems to intrigue her, or at least intrigue her more than looking at more one-story buildings and flat drained swamplands. "We close?" she asks Ajax, before replacing something unidentifiable and crockery-adjacent.

(Emma) Emma took the day off for this particular adventure, which seemed like a good idea since she's been housing David for awhile now. She quietly tags along with the rest, prefering the sit in the passenger seat so that she could keep an eye out the window and study the landscape as it passes. She's wearing a somewhat faded brown leather jacket, a black t-shirt and jeans, with her dark hair pulled back in a French braid, so that it's out of the way. She's tucked a few things into her jacket, mainly a little flashlight, tools to pick a lock and a handgun (for obvious reasons). She's also got a small disposable camera in one pocket, in case pictures need to be taken. And some small snacks, because you never know if those will be needed!

(Ajax) "We're close," Ajax confirms.

(Hallah) Hallah smiles happily to Ajax, seeming glad she could help. The nook that Ajax chose is a comfortable bench chair in the RV that has a purple and black bat- theme knit throw blanket upon such. She smiles over to Emma who is nearby her in the passenger seat. Hallah tries to keep alert and watching as she sits there in the driver's seat.

(Medina) As Hallah parks the RV in the apartment complex parking lot, the scene unwravels in bit more detail. Cars are parked at angles in the lot with no real defined spaces, just wherever fits. It's a mix of sedans, pickups, a scattering of imports, and there are a few standouts, like a burgundy Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme with a vinyl roof that sits on blocks, hood propped open. It must be someone's weekend project indefinitely postponed. There's also a white work van with LOPEZ CONSTRUCTION stenciled on the side in forest green, and a candy apple red lowrider Impala that's clearly someone's pride and joy, polished with care.

Each building has twelve units: six up, six down. The numbers are painted directly on the doors in that stick-on gold metallic font, and some are missing digits, but Unit 30 is straightforward to find -- on this side of the Gauntlet.

In the penumbral space, the stairs are something Tori is going to have to trust - they don't exist when they're looked at, fidgeting around in the periphery of perception. (Selene)

Selene gets out of the RV, coming out after Emma. She has, from how she moved, been in crowded RVs before. She squints into the glare of the Texas sunlight, and momentarily admires the gloss of the Impala. "And are we expected?" she asks Ajax after.

(Medina) The spiritual reflection of the apartment complex bears some interesting details. The apartment numbers are not reflected on this side where sluch labels truly don't matter, but one upstairs unit pulses with a soft, warm amber, the glow of family and hearth. Probably not David's place. There's another upstairs unit that flickers with a dull, static haze of TV static, and to look at it is to be sucked into a sense of mindless distraction. Bitter anger radiates sickly and festering from a ground floor unit. David had said where it was - upstairs on the far left, but how far left? He wasn't specific like that, he'd just given the unit number. That Impala in the parking lot gleams like it's been dipped in passion, devotion almost manifest. Tori can feel a sense of being watched, but not a concerning one - there are little spirits, the natural siritual ecosystem, the only real concerning one in her closest proximity being that of some rust spirits chomping down on those cars. And while it's not apparently cognizant of her, some sort of amoral force of decay, it's moving, shifting across the cars like time-lapse footage of shadows from the clouds across the plains.

...Tori feels a sense of pinpricks and needles in her teeth.

(Ajax) "Not at all! I didn't think to phone ahead, so we'll just be dropping in. Don't worry, friends! David is a good fellow, and has, thanks to Emma's tireless efforts to accomodate him while he's been in hiding from the goons working at Smith International, gathered that I, her, and all of our compatriots are equally trustworthy guardian angels with only his and the other kidnapped employees best interests at heart. He will be happy to see us, I have no doubt about it!"

Ajax notices they're getting very close, and, not really clear that parking is more of a hazard than just stopping the vehicle wherever Hallah wants, he stands up in anticipation of embarking. All the same, the talking covers for the fact that he's trying not to think of what Tori might be running into on the other side, alone.

(Medina) What is that? The shifting, brittle bloom of rust given sapience might just be creepy crawling towards her.

(Hallah) Hallah tries to park in a place that would allow them to get leave quickly if need be. She also tries to park in a place that would leave them less visible frow the windows of the building. Of course she cannot fully hide a big RV, but she tries to get the van between them and the windows to make them less sand out, if she can manage that and still well pull out quickly if need be.

(Ajax) "I'm -certain- that will extend to his courteous landlord," Ajax finishes that thought.

He was probably deeply wrong.

(Hallah rolls Wits + Stealth vs 8 for 1 successes.)

(Selene)

Selene contemplates what Ajax says, and then smiles obscurely. "You've been here before?" she asks Emma as they walk along. Her head turns once just to spot-check exactly where Hallah has parked. Sightlines, probably. Just in case!

(Tori) Sometimes, one just has to embrace what George Michael crooned about almost a decade ago.. you just gotta have faith. Tori just trusts that stairs are where she needs them to be to get to where she's going. She glances over to the little spirits, and oh look.. as ever, she's got visitors. "Heey little guy. I'm not tasty at all. I dont have any metal on me." She croons quietly to the rust monster that's creeping in her direciton as she heads up to .. well.. honestly? She's vibe navigating on where David's place might be. Left? Left. Far left. Whatever that means around here. Faith. It'll work out. Somehow.

(Medina) Hallah is able to find a place. Between the big, gnarly live oak that's fighting for its life she's partially sheltered on one side, and on the other, the impala is doing some heavy lifting in being far more 'worth' looking at in its flashiness. It's not ideal, but what she is confident in, is the angle of her future exit: she's expertly backed into the space so she can peel right the hell out. As much as an RV can, anwyay.

(Ori)

Tori is committing an act of faith with the stairs, and the rust spirits are committing an act of love. You can tell it's love because they croon and trill almost affectionately as they get closer to her. They look adorable, in a 'could give you tetanus' way, jagged and drifting towards the spirit magnet of a wolf with warm interest! One, that is smaller, and faster than the others, and moves with open curiosity, drifts closer to her, it chirps, and by chirps it makes the sound of metal against metal, but you know....sweetly. And then it moves to rub against Torries leg, it's not unlike when a cat does it, except there is a bit of a cheese grater effect as it explores this new curiosity.

(Players roll Charisma + Subterfuge to play off their presence as casual.)

(Tori rolls Perception + Enigmas to make sense of the penumbral landscape and identify David's apartment. She fails.)

(Medina) Hm. Well. The question then, is whether the place of distraction and TV static is David's place, or if it's one of the quieter ones that just sort of exist up here... Tori's going to have to make a decision on her onesies.

(Ajax) Once Hallah has (expertly) found them a place to park, Ajax detaches from his seat at the RV and walks towards the middle exit, putting a hand on her shoulder in thanks before he steps out of the door, presuming the others will follow. As is often the case, his presence looks absolutely natural here - like he'd been here a million times before. That's all from the fact that every place he goes, he belongs, rather than because he looks or affects a certain way. It's more like he's just got a natural radiant vim that allows him to greet someone on the street with a little wave and say hello on his way to the precipice where they'd be standing and waiting (a degree of sociability on the street that would be much rarer as time went on). He put his shoulder on the side of the apartment building and leaned like what you'd see in a movie, where there's always a gaggle of people just hanging around at a brownstone walkup.

(Medina) As Ajax exits the car, the heat and humidity outside rolls over him like a most unpleasant and unwelcome hug from an oppressively fake inlaw at some inescapable function. The stairs, building 30, it's all very plain to find. An east Asian woman in a faded floral housedress exits her apartment about when he settles in, but past a cursory look -- that turns into a doubletake at his greco-roman wrestler's build and his perfect superman hair (she's old but she isn't DEAD) -- she minds her business and moves along, down the stairs with her laundry basket.

(Medina) Tori, you're able to peer from the landing and barely make out which unit is unit thirty, as well as the scratchy, half-realized forms of two, maybe three people walking around on the other side of the divide.

Your ankle also stings, like it does when there's a cheese grater on it. (Selene)

Selene walks after Ajax, a pace or two behind. She slides her hands into her pockets with a vague air of not having had better ideas to do with them. She turns her head, perceiving the woman but probably being completely inexplicable. "I'm glad this guy's dried out, from what you said," she comments to Ajax, with an affected casuality. "Tell me about good restaurants or something if she comes back and we gotta fill air."

("And god damn the humidity's even worse during the day, I didn't think that could happen.")

(Hallah) Hallah remains alert as she sits in the driver's seat of the RV. She tries to watch what she can, but probably doesn't have the best view of things considering she parked with the intention of not giving others the best view of her and the giant old RV. She takes her role of driving very seriously and has yet to relax or daydream or do anything that would distract her from acting when or if there is a need to.

(Ori)

The Rust spirit's friends, now knowing Tori is 'safe' have joined their scout in their affections! The three of them fondly rubbing against her legs, and yes, okay, here and there, there's a little nibble. ....and then they notice she's regenerating from their affections! and they nibble a little more...for science.

(Medina) Getting closer to Unit 30, a certain sense of presence intensifies for Tori. It's not the same as that instinctive pull of a predator's eyes on you. Rather, it's that childhood dread that it Knows if you speak its name. Illogical. An omen, a foreboding. But that's unit 30, alright, and the door is a little grayer up close than everyone else's. To near it is to feel the pressure drop of a plane descending too fast, and a keen sense of discomfort accompanies it. It's not that primal revulsion of wyrm taint, not that oppressive sterility of the weaver, just something that...deadens. The handle on the penumbral door looks like it's grown into the frame, organic and mechanical at once, fused together, and it almost whispers, 'why bother?'.

(Ajax) "You know, I actually can't? There are some among our clandestine cohort who can without issue, but for me, it's a coin toss whether the wait staff or the management will get upset that I'm even -there- patronizing the establishment." Ajax explains this with spread hands from his very laconic lean. "That's why the neighborhood is such a blessing for me. Now I can pretend to be normal, and do normal people things, without having to beg one of our friends to rent a table ahead or bring in take-out!" He emphasizes this concept to Selene with a twist of his hand to his neck. He's obviously describing the Curse of Rage and the dynamic he has with Juniper Cross Community without really saying any of the words.

"But did you know? There was a time when it wasn't even here, and I had to skulk around the neighborhood like a thief in the night. The whole reason I came here was 'the time before' -- it was run by people like me, you know?"

Selene and Emma may have been beginning to learn he could yammer, and it wasn't even to fill time while they waited, this was just HIM.

(Ajax) Hallah had thankfully had her sanity spared by their separation.

(Medina) The older lady with her laundry basket pauses at the sight of not one, but two people she doesn't recognize, but, after a moment to clock the stranger(s) who appear, she continues on her way down the stairs.

(Tori) In spite of never actually having taken a cheese grater to her ankle, Tori now is reasonably confident on what it might feel like. Sort of like cuddling with a feral cat who hasn't figured out that the pokey bits aren't very nice. Tori has a look around as she peeks out from the umbra, getting her bearings before she settles herself back and reaches down to .. pat? Pat.. the little spirits that are snacking on her. "That.. ow. You're very cute and owey. C'mon little ones, we're going over that way."

Tori pauses with her hand upon the door, her shoulders slumping a little. Why bother? Why indeed. It's not a sense of being tired, it's a sense of being weary. That tired of the soul. She frowns a little, letting her head fall at least until a nibble makes her startle. "Ow. C'mon.. lets get this open.. this feels like school."

(Emma) Emma will follow after Ajax to wherever he leads the group, but she keeps a careful eye on their surroundings, being careful to note anyone that's paying too much attention to them. Or perhaps anyone that looks out of place.

(Selene) Selene looks up at Ajax as he relates an authentic downside to his current situation. She purses her lips, saying after, "Now, shit, I don't know if I just never got that because of how thick it ran where I grew up," or, let's have an allusion to being from the rez, "or if it's just that we had low expectations for customer service. That sucks. You can do drive through?"

The vibe may translate less over the Weaver's machine-voices. "Huh," Selene says, with a brief glance to Emma as if to vibe-check, confirm she didn't vanish or lose her organs, etc. Back to Ajax. "Like, your /family/ or sort of your extended family?"

(Medina) As Tori opens the penumbral door, what hits her is a wall of silence. It's not peaceful, it's not pensive, it's a space that doesn't really wish to be. Meanwahile, where Emma, Ajax, Hallah and Selene are, there's the ambient sounds like the traffic, the AC humming along, some norteno music bouncing through the air from behind thin walls. Not here: just cotton thick silence that plugs the ears, where nothing moves, nothing breathes.

Opening this place up is like /remembering/ a museum diorama or a photograph, strangely very ... There, but not when you're looking at it. Tori can tell the couch is there, the bed is there, how the cushions are aligned, where the coffee table is, but they glimmer and shudder just past perception when she looks right at them.

No Bare beige, a world made of paper, fragile, temproary. A lingering sense of 'why bother, what's the point, nothing matters.'

And everything feels so grey, so washed out, so tired. The layout is mostly contiguous, where a kitchen and den bleed into one another, and doors lead elsewhere, probalby bathroom and bedroom. She's in - and nothing is trying to eat her. On purpose, anyway.

(Tori rolls Gnosis multiple times at increasing difficulty to return from the penumbra.)

(Medina) It was all going to be in and out! Quick, 20 minute adventure, MOrty. But seconds turn to minutes turn to ... When the hell is Tori coming out? Did she fuckin' die in there?

Nay, the door to apartment 30 clicks, the knob rotates, the door opens!

(Medina) The interior of the apartment is very bog-standard, one bedroom, one bathroom, contiguous kitchen-den you walk right into. It's a little messy, the place of a man who has nobody to impress but still has personal standards, when he finds the time.

(Ajax) "Define extended. I imagine it's extended, but, just so we're clear, no one bearing my -last name- was out here, so I--" At that point, the clatter of the door handle opening Ajax claps his hands together once at a tight angle as the door opens, all his fears about Tori being over on the other side put to rest. "Looks like she's done. Tori's the most reliable one I know. Let's go in and root around!"

(Ajax) "Emma, have you got a flashlight or anything?"

(Tori) "Hi." Tori comments quietly, as she opens the door, bending after a moment to rub at one of her ankles. "Sorry, this place isn't.. awesome on the other side." She steps aside to let everyone in and be able to shut the door behind them.

(Emma) "Sure do," Emma tells Ajax. She takes the flashlight from her jacket as the door is opened by Tori, flashing the other woman a quick smile as she slips inside. She takes a few moments to let her eyes adjust to the dimmer lighting, then starts to look around. It's mainly her just walking the rooms to get a feel for them, without poking around at anything just yet.

(Each player except Hallah who is in the RV rolls Perception + Investigation for various success.)

(Selene) "Oh, sure, I'm just making conversation since that's part of the history WHOA girl, hi!" Selene grins at Tori, going in afterwards. Probably bringing up the rear, in fact, since Emma has a flashlight already at the ready. She sniffs the air on her way in, before looking around. Notably, she keeps her hands in her pockets. (Prints, etc.)

(Ajax) Ajax claps a meaty ham-hock hand on Tori's shoulder as she lets them all in, looking over his shoulder and giving Hallah a big thumbs up in the RV and then an o-k sign and then holds up five fingers and wobbles his hands, indicating they should only be like five minutes. "Excellent work, sister," he says to Tori on the way in, and looks to Emma to lead the effort -- though, his eyes do start to roam, and his hands do start to open some drawers without much rhyme or reason. "Do you have an idea what we're looking for?" he asks the kinfolk from across the room.

(Medina) Selene, hands in her pockets, negotiates through the half-open bathroom door with her shoulder. Her eyes fall on the medicine cabinet above the sink, and the fact that it is open. She looks to some old pills, expired prescriptions 2 years out of date, the usual toiletries. There's a pamphlet on the lid of the toilet tank, on top of a slightly wrinkled FHM magazine. Gulf Coast Rehabilitation Center: A Path Forward. The front shows a serene image of the glass and greenery of some idealised medical facility, neatly placed.

(Medina) Tori, in kitchen, sees the refridgerator, the drawers. The fridge is mostly empty, no surprises, more beer and condiments and takeout than anything. Taped onto the fridge door among some colorful rainbow letter magnets that say 'YOU CAN IT' (the d and the o have been spilled over and scrambled with others) is a picture of David and his mom, a picture of David and a dog, and an appointment card to see Dr. Raymond Nguyen some time in July. A phone number is written on it in red pen.

(Medina) Ajax finds a stack of bills. That oppressive sense of 'why bother' might be internally imposed, truly. But a form letter, some medical bills (boring!) -- that form letter looks more interesting. Dear Mr. Santos, due to the complexity of your case we are recommending a transfer to our partner facility. Dr. Deshpande specializes in cases like yours. Please contact our office within.... blah blah blah, ugh paperowrk. Bureaucratic presure masked as care, is what Ajax has found - do this or lose your coverage.

(Medina) Emma - you find a few books, you find a few things to take to David, but you also know where the pills are. But before you find the pills, you notice something ... Off. It's a coffee stain ring, but it's tacky, it hasn't had enough time to dry. That kitchen drawer that David mentioned the pills were in is open slightly. There's a business card in the drawer with the pills - and with all the junk that That One Kitchen drawer inevitably accumulates - with a business card for Dr. Rajani Deshpande, and a note written on it. "David, we're concerned about your missed appointments. Please call to reschedule." (Ajax) Holding up the form letter in front of him, Ajax raps it with the back of his knuckles. "There's this name again. Desphande. I'm starting to think it might be time to pay this Health Maintenance Organization a visit!"

(Medina) Emma - when you try to tak the prescription bottles, the air in the apartment gets heavier. It's subtle at first. A little feeling of pressure. Maybe the air is stuffy. But as your fingers curl over the prescription botte, the lights seem a little dimmer. The footsteps, Ajax's yammering (inevitable), it's a little distant. A wave of apathy. Why does this even matter? It's just pills. David probably just stopped taking them. This is a waste of time... We should leave...

(Emma rolls Willpower vs 7 for 4 successes.)

(Medina) Hallah - a white Ford Taurus turns onto the drive, slowing as it approaches the complex. It's just the deliberate pace of someone who knows where they want to be, and you see a man driving and a woman as a passenger. They are dressed business casual, and they pull into the parking lot a few spaces down, facing toward Unit 30's building.

(Selene)

Selene scans the bathroom as she goes in. She does not Need it, and so the only thing that stands out for her is reaching out one hand, shaking out her sleeve a little (all that sweatiness, worth it) to pinch the pamphlet, and inspect its contents.

"Deshpande?" Selene calls from the terlet.

(Ajax) "Yeah, if I recall, this Dr. Deshpande seems to be the quack involved in relocating all of the missing employees for further study at their facility. I'm beginning to suspect nefarious intentions, Selene!" Ajax says, still yammering, oblivious to Emma's inner turmoil yonder.

(Hallah) This is before the days of cellphones and Hallah didn't bring a beeper or anything like. Maybe next time! She looks toward the white ford Taurus and to the passengers inside and bites her lower lip as if struggling with want to do about this. Business casual doesn't look like they belong near a building like this and neither does the care really and yet she doesn't really want to leave the vehicle! Finally she decides to go warn the others or try to anyways. She turns off the Rv, pockets the keys and attempts to make a discrete trip to the door oof the apartment building. Are any still outside the building or are they all now inside?

(Emma) "Someone's been in here recently," Emma tells the group. She looks over the pill bottles, although pauses as that wave of apathy hits her, then manages to shake it off with a frown. "I don't like this place." She doesn't really explain /why/, though. After a quick look around, she finds an old grocery bag and dumps the pill bottles into it, along with the books that she'd found. She'll also swipe the business card that was in the drawer, as well and the pictures that are tacked up on the fridge.

"Grab what you can. I'm going to get some clothes and then I think we need to leave. I'm willing to bet that someone's keeping an eye on this place and I'd rather not be caught by anyone that comes back to see if David came home. Fuckin' Smith International. That place is evil."

(Medina) The front panel has bullshit about comprehensive services, a holistic wellness approach, and other gobbledygook - what stands out about the pamphlet is actually very little of its contents - which include the address and some smiling faces and the names of patients giving testimonials - and more its structure. Look at that subtle off white color. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh my god, it even has a watermark....

But in a humid little environment like this bathroom, where the fan certainly doesn't work, humidity hasn't done a goddamn thing to that pristine cardstock, like it has to the magazine. It's very new.

(Tori) "The whole place just.. is hard." Tori comments as she opens up the fridge, considering the ex-take out within. She closes the door, and considers the pictures, reaching to collect both of them, and the appointment card. David is going to want them with him, even if it probably doesn't matter. It's just pictures. It's not the dog. Even if it looks like a nice dog. She hands them to Emma for the bag of things that she's collecting.

"I agree, I think we should leave." Tori nods in agreement. "I dont' like how this place makes me feel."

(Selene) Selene frowns in respectful thought. She can appreciate fine stationary. But this is a promotional document, not a missal or some shit. Selene opens it up, reading through the first page or so and fondling one page with a finger. As she does this, she walks out and says, "This place sucks, yeah. Found this... hotel clinic, bank ad THING in the bathroom, though." She holds it up for others to see, assuming it hasn't eaten her hand.

(Medina) Hallah - they don't get out immediately. The woman produces a notebook from her brown and black leather purse that shrieks 'secretary', and after she peruses it, she pulls up a brick that you happen to be able to speak to from the car's ceneter console, dialing some number. The driver looks across the parking lot toward the building. Could be a social worker, could be corporate, could be security, .... But they're clearly coordinating something.

(Hallah rolls Dexterity + Stealth vs 6 for 3 successes.)

(Dice are rolled to determine if the two notice Hallah - a tie, which goes to Hallah.)

(Medina) Hallah, on her way to the apartment to warn the others, uses ice machines, the leasing office, and delicate timing to make her way to the unit without notice. There's one heart-skipping moment where she notices the woman's gaze, but she's able to play it off casually and walk in the 'wrong' direction, and then time a final push for the apartment when neither are looking.

(Hallah) Hallah sucks in a sharp breath when she gets inside and puts a hand over heart. She seems surprised she made it and deeply relieved. She looks about the apartment, trying to guess in what direction to go!

(Medina) Hallah enters the apartment where Selene, Emma, Ajax and Tori are. When she enters, she hasn't yet heard or seen any indication that the two have exited the vehicle, for instance, no car door closing sounds, but once she goes inside the apartment it'll be harder to hear the parking lot to tell. So she knows they haven't exited the car /yet/, as of her walking in.

(Hallah) Hallah slips into the apartment and sucks in a sharp breath. "White Tahoe car sort of fancy here with two business people inside, they re watching the building and look sus, they have not entered yet." She says quickly and softly. She looks a little nervous!

(Hallah, Ajax and Tori roll Intelligence + Drive as a memory-check.)

(Hallah) Hallah says. "I mean Ford Taurus....sedan." She says and well she might be a bit in a heart-racing moment as if not used to sneaking around like this. She adds, "I can listen to the past conversations here, maybe...but it will take me a few moments and I will be zoned out." She adds this quickly too as if looking for feedback on if she should do that now or not.

(Ajax) Ajax blinks a couple of times, and tilts his head back. He holds up a finger for a moment, a little bit surprised to see Hallah in the first place, and then his mouth opens a little as a thought formulates. "That is definitely," he says, waggling that finger. "That's definitely them. The two that were trying to abduct David -- wait, a moment, did you say a -sedan-?" Now he seems a little thrown. "...maybe it's not them, after all," he says, his voice drooping. He thought he was onto something for once.

(Tori) "They might have gotten a new car?" Tori uhhs softly. "We REALLY should leave then, cause if its those two, they are bad news. And how did they know we were here?" She frowns a little. "I dont like the timing one little bit." (Selene) Selene had been holding her peace but remarks, "If these are bad folks we ought to run right now, it sounds like we can't just step over and wait 'em out." She also pockets the pamphlet, no doubt to enter the -Case Record- later.

(Emma) "If you do that," Emma tells Hallah, "you'll be stuck 'zoned' out for however long the conversation actually took place. If the folks out in the car are here to check on this apartment and David, being stuck in here isn't a good idea." By this point, she's emptied some drawers and stuffed a bunch of stuff into the grocery bag that she'd found, along with the pill bottles. "Do you guys feel that? Like.. this feeling of nothing matters?"

(Ajax) "I've never felt that in my life," Ajax remarks to Emma, looking a little bewildered that maybe he was actually right and isn't sure how, about the people outside.

(Medina) That feeling was transient for Tori in the umbra. It didn't hit you - but if you sit on the feeling now that she asked, if you do look for it, it's like an old weatherpain you don't realize is there until you start talking about it.

(Hallah) Hallah nods to Emma. "I don't want to e stuck here while kidnappers are charging in." She says in a soft near whisper like she is still trying to be sneaky.

(The group rolls Perception + Alertness.)

(Selene rolls Perception + Enigmas for Sense Magic.)

(Medina) The apartment lights up within Selene's perceptions with that stark, slightly disgusting reveal of a blacklight on a hotel room's invisible stains, Lisa Frank madness bleeding off into the adjacent unit as well as enveloping the bachelor's pad here...

In Emma's possession is the bag of pills, and they pulse with a slow, precisely rhythmic energy. It's prickling like a sleeping limb, and it's letting off a very, /very/ certain type of heat: the heat let off from the process of concrete slowly hardening. Order and structure, twisted, carrying the crystalline precision too much like the Weaver. Something that that has been bent into death of will, of aspiration, of spark. Compulsions made semi-solid. Concepts bound into pharmaceutical form. Apathy manifest, essence of compliance. And as she looks at it, she can see fine, tarnished silvery threads of some otherworldly essence sapping the color out of her trippy vision. In fact, as her perceptions focus, it's not a technicolor dreamworld anymore, it's fading, bleaching, leeching. The adjacent unit feels like a furnace by comparison in its normalcy.

Meanwhile, Selene, Emma, Tori and Hallah can each hear the staccato closing of a car door off in the distance. Faint, but very present.

Ajax can hear the compressor of the fridge.

(Hallah) Hallah sucks in a nervous breath s she hears the door. She whispers. "Oh...no, they are coming..." And Hallah looks about ready to flee!

(Selene)

Selene frowns when Emma speaks and looks around... only to end up looking at the bag of pills, slowly. The world pulsates and shudders. Externally, her pupils contract, dilate, and get back to normal, but you'd have to be up real close to see that and this place is pretty dark. Did they even think to try the lights? (Fingerprints!!)

"Yeah we should go," she says, and she moves to get out of the apartment, grasping at any laggards on the way.

(Ajax) "They are? I can only hear the refrigerator!" Ajax says, a little alarmed. He's taking his stack of bills and form letter with him, and following the others on the way out.

(Emma thinks quick with a Wits + Alertness roll to grab some last-second things for David.)

(Medina) The group emerges from Unit 30, moving with purpose but not panic, having accepted their fate as probably to be discovered, but at least not trapped inside the concrete box they just exited. Emma's able to grab that little toy that she remembers David having talked about, that he regrets leaving behind - a carnival gift stuffed iguana that his sister won for him once in the bedroom. Then they dart outside, and one of them pulls the door closed behind them, checks that it latches.

They're halfway down the metal stairs. Ajax sees them first. It's them, alright.

The man in khakis and an oversized polo shirt, same as before. Mid-30s, clean-cut, with that corporate security bearing that tries to pass as civilian but doesn't pass the bar. And as they make eye contact, the man's hand reflexively goes checking his belt where something bulky sits under the fabric. Not a pager. Ajax had clocked it wrong at the search party. It's a radio.

The woman who'd been asking questions about David's "medical history" at St. Anthony's - miss business casual blazer despite the heat - has her purse tucked under one arm, heavy, weighted wrong. Something's definitely in there besides a wallet and keys.

They're twenty feet away.

The man stops mid-step. His eyes go to Ajax first. Recognition flickers across his face. Then to Tori. Then to the others. The woman's hand tightens on her purse. For a single frozen moment that freefloats in space, everyone's doing the math. Four of you. Two of us. But we're the ones who know where David Santos is supposed to be. And you're the ones coming out of his apartment...

(Medina) That Curse that Ajax had just been speaking about, how it boxes in his life, it hits the strangers like a wall, and, struck with that strange, primal broadcast that mortal hindbrains balk at, the man's pupils dilate. His hand freezes on the radio, doesn't quite lift it to his mouth. The woman takes a half-step back, so reminiscent of a rabbit, or other running prey, an instinctive, animal retreat before conscious thought tempers a reaction into a response. She shifts with her purse. The papers inside it crinkle and rustle too loud in the afternoon stillness. Neither of them moves closer. Neither of them can.

The man recovers first, but his voice comes tight and careful like he's trying not to spook a dangerous dog. "...Hey."

(Ajax rolls Charisma + Subterfuge to activate Persuasion and nets 2 successes.)

(Ajax) As the two groups start to roll up on each other, and as it becomes clear that there's simply no avoiding confrontation and the consequences that will result, Ajax instinctively invokes his Ancestor spirit taught gift and speaks with the silver tongue he has been trained from an early age to apply. He steps out ahead of Tori, Selene, Emma and Hallah, and holds up his hand in front of him. "Let's not," he says with that sonorous, dripping-with-genteel voice to the duo, without a bit of malice. "We can both just pretend this isn't happening, and we each get to have a really nice day. We didn't see each other...and nothing happened." He tilts his head a little, with a really encouraging smile.

(Hallah) Hallah isn't super brave at this moment when they come face to face with the two possible kidnappers or well kidnapper helpers or something. She doesn't step up, but lingers somewhere toward the back. A certain survival instinct takes over and she tries not to draw any extra attention to herself.

(Ajax rolls Charisma + Fast-Talk for a stupid amount of successes.)

(Medina) The effect is immediate and almost visceral. The man exhales - his body is just dumping tension he didn't realize he was carrying. His hand drops from the radio completely. "Yeah," he says, and the eager word comes out quick as can be. "Yeah, that... that makes sense," he repeats, as he nods, convincing himself, his pupils still dilated in the looming shadow of the Rage lurking within his hindbrain. Either way: The Silver Fang's given him a rational out to explain to his ego why retreat is no cowardice, but something sensible. The woman looks at her partner, then back at Ajax, her hand...Loosening mechanically on her purse the way women do when caught in the elevator more concerned at the appearance of looking racist than actually relaxing.

"We were just..." she starts, but her words sort of dissolve as she searches for the rest of the sentence.

"...We were just..."

She can't find her wit to come up with her excuses. Visiting? Checking in? But really, is it worth the confrontation, the questions, the complications

"Nothing happened," the man repeats, testing the phrase and how it sits. He steps back and starts to take his leave, but his eyes never leave the Garou and the Rage. "...Right. Nothing happened." He even manages something approximating a professional smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes, as the two ultimately will retreat, and leave them be.

(Ajax) "Have a nice day," Ajax reminds them pointedly, and gestures with a thumb for the rest of the group, smiling over his shoulder at them too.

(Medina) The pair retreat to the safety of their vehicle. Notably, they do not drive away, instead electing to refuge inside the safe structure of steel, but they do not do anything to impede them.

(Selene) Selene goggles at these two people for a moment, but Ajax is in front and in charge. Her eyes cut towards him in a rather dramatic way - the glasses magnify her eyes slightly so these things tend to stand out - and then gives the two of them a good lookin' before moving along without a word.

(Once they are, explicitly, inside of Hallah's RV, she says: "Glass smooth, man. Hey, put that shit where people don't have to sit with it?" The latter to Emma.)

(Hallah) Hallah seems relieved when they depart without a fight. She gets into her RV and once inside. She scribbles down the license plate from the white car so hopefully she remembers it. She also attempts to keep her license plate from pointing right at the two, but that might be impossible!

(Hallah rolls Dexterity + Drive to deftly get out of there and not give the two a chance to see her license plate!)

(Medina) As Hallah revs up that RV, she waits for the two to be speaking to each other, and as she finds her window of opportunity, she shifts into gear and launches out of that parking lot like a hot knife through warm butter, commanding her RV like that impala owner must only dream to drive his pride and joy. She's pretty sure she's timed it right - between the frazzledness of the two, and how quickly she whips out of there.

Follow-Up Scene

Participants

Log

(Medina) The blood of Houston's working class pumps through Telephone Road, which runs north-south like a concrete artery, and even on this autumn afternoon the heat doesn't break, it just thickens, settles, and the humid air is like a wet blanket to wade through.

An auto shop - Quick Fix - sits on the corner like a concrete toad. Skyline itself is a narrow capillary barely wide enough for two cars to pass if someone pulls over, no sidewalks, just the ragged edges of asphalt crumbling into dirt and patchy, dead St. Augustine.

The apartments sit back from the road in a loose U-shape configuration. They're two-story buildings the color of cigarette and coffee stains that used to be 'adobe' or 'beige', with exterior staircases and shared balconies running the length of each floor and they scream 'I was slapped together in the 70s for bottom dollar'. It's very cookie cutter: the metal stairs that ring hollow when you walk on them, the railings that wobble if you lean too hard, the fact you can hear almost everything, from your upstairs neighbor's spat to your next door neighbor's insistence on playing ESG for the 87th night in a row.

At a glance, the apartment parking lot is full of a mix of sedans and trucks owned and driven by regular people stretching a dollar. Faded paint, patched quarter panels, tinted windows with the tint starting to purple and bubble in the Texas sun. Here and there, rust blooms on hoods and roofs, seasoned in by how the air itself carries chemical residue from the plants that line the Ship Channel a few miles east, a slow corrosion, a patient poisoning.

(Medina) At night, the sodium vapor lights cast the world in a sickly jaundice, like it's all been dipped in iodine. The Quick Fix's lights flicker in and out as the neon and gas of the electric sign hums against the distant traffic.

(Hallah) Hallah drove here once again in her big RV. She really needs to work on getting a smaller and more discrete vehicle! She is adorned in 90s grunge complete with large flannel shirt left button and working over a little white t-shirt and a pair old jeans with patches of frogs and mushrooms. Her brown hair is held back with a plaid hair tie that she probably made herself. She pulls into the parking lot and tries to find a a parking space that give them a quick trip to the door and back without making the RV more stand out than it alright might be.

(Marion) Marion either doesn't understand the concept of disguises or otherwise thinks he blendsin just fine in his vaugely cowboy attire. Jeans and a Western shirt IS probably common enough that it counts, though the red neckerchief does kind of stand out he doens't leve home without it. He does understand that parking takes a while, and once they do he says, "You're right, I think now that we're settling down, that we should look at getting something else to drive." The inherited RV made sense when they lived as nomads, but now they need something they can park.

(Hallah) Hallah says softly. "I know where we need to go. I think.." She says softly Marion, talking softly even before they leave the RV. The RV is put in park and the keys are shoved into the pockets of her jeans. She starts to climb out of such. She tries to sneakily make her way to front the door and peeks back to Marion.

(Hallah) Hallah explains to Marion while they are in the RV what she feels is going on. "So..." She says. "Last night I was knitting in the meadow with Ajax invited me on a adventure. I drove in the RV and there these important wolves there. They were investigating some kind of tainted drug and a man taking such who was kidnapped. I think he was taking such, maybe he wasn't. Anyways, I drove here and there was a white Taurus that pulled up with two people in like business clothes, a man and a woman. So I ran inside to warn them. The kinfolk Emma had a bag of pills that are sus pills. I realized that I could listen int he room or try to, to past conversations, but we didn't have time time as the two were coming up and I didn't want to be zoned up with kidnappers or maybe kidnappers on the way. We left and well the two were more afraid of us than Ajax was of them and he said lets just forget it, they were like okay. We then left."

(Marion) Marion thanks Hallh for the run down and then lets her run off on her own, at first. Two people leaving the RV at the same time might draw more attention than one at a time, and she is way sneakier than him anyway. He listens though, and once she's a little bit away, he steps out. He glances her way maybe just a little, in passing, like any Joe on the street might when he checks out a girls without staring. He starts to Mosey about some, but he listens like crazy. People with suits don't come to places like this with good intentions, mostly, and there's plenty of other unrelated reasons to suspect the area could be dangerous.

(Medina) Marion channels the agency of the Wolf spirits and as their gifts bristle to life for the Child of Gaia, the spirits paint the world in sound.

Behind him, the rhythmic, tick-tick-tick of cooling metal from the RV. A faint creak as the suspension adjusts to stillness. The almost inaudible hum of residual heat radiating off the hood.

Beneath him, tiny pops and cracks as the pavement releases the day's stored heat. The whisper-scrape of a plastic bag tumbling in the faint breeze, catching on a tire two cars over. Grit and small stones shifting under the soles of his boots when he breathes deeply enough to sway...

In the parking lot, an alarm system emitting a sound so high-pitched it's almost beyond human range: a mosquito-whine of electronics on standby.

He can hear all the life in the apartment complex. the rhythmic whir-CLUNK-whir of a washing machine mid-cycle in one of the apartments. He can hear water rushing through pipes in the walls, a woman's voice muffled through drywall, speaking Vietnamese on the phone, animated, rapid, punctuated by a laugh as some sort of Vietnamese musical variety comedy show plays on her TV. A child's voice, high pitched, excited, something about dinosaurs - the thump-thump-thump of small feet running across the floor above. Television audio bleeding through the walls: canned laughter, a commercial jingle, the rapid-fire patter of an announcer. Ice cubes dropping into a glass. The hiss-pop of a can opening. A man's voice, solo, talking to himself or the TV: "...bullshit, that was a foul!" The creak of weight settling into a recliner.

And he can hear Hallah moving. He can hear the metal framework of the stairs shifting in the cooling air, and the wind making its tiny whistles and moans through the gaps in the stairs. The soft shuffle of her canvas shoes with her careful steps, the gentle rustle of her shirt as her arms swing, and he can hear her passing by the ice machine near the leasing office on her way, how she uses the momentary shelter and its mechanical hum. Her footsteps disappear into the white noise...

While Hallah is quiet to human ears, Marion can't help but hear her once her footsteps resurface - for his uncanny senses, each step announce itself. Creak, creak, creak...

(Medina) Hallah is able to make it up to the apartment. As she goes, the apartment complex isn't strictly silent: she, too, can hear TV and voices leaking out of the walls of other units. But nobody disturbs her, and nobody is outside of their units on this little slice of here and now. The apartment door to unit 30 is plain to see before her, the door shut. Is it locked? She'll have to try it to fin dout.

(Hallah) Hallah reaches the apartment door and sucks in a soft breath. She hasn't really thought too far ahead on how she will get inside. She assumes it will be locked, but just in case she reaches out with a small hand tries to turn the handle.

(Medina) When Hallah reaches out to turn the handle, it doesn't give. Indeed, someone locked it. Perhaps it was in the rush to leave that someone's habits flicked the deadbolt. Perhaps those visitors she ran into were the culprit.

(Hallah) Hallah sucks in a soft breath and studies the lock. She then decides to try and pick such. She glances about her to make sure that nobody entered the hallway. She doesn't have expert tools with her or this, but she does have a credit card and a few little pins that work sometimes work as picks or as crafting supplies stashed in her wallet. They are not the kind of tools that make things easier, but maybe they will allow it to be possible to pick. She sucks in a quick breath and assuming she doesn't believe she is being watched, the petite brunette will try.

(Medina) Hallah takes to picking the lock. Marion can hear the scraping, the fidgeting of the finicky little pins, as Hallah improvises a pick with her pins and credit card.

And Marion can hear the shift of footsteps in a unit up on the same floor as Hallah, the imminent sounds of someone about to open the door. He hears it as clear as Hallah does! Of course, for Hallah, it's 4 doors down. She has just enough time to withdraw and act nonchalant...

(Medina) Hallah is able to whip back with perfect timing and play it off - she's clearly just waiting for some friend or neighbor to answer the door while she's visiting! The stranger who exits the unit is a young woman with her dog, and it seems it's time to take the wiry-furred, little 30-pound mutt on a walk. She doens't notice Hallah, busied with keying the lock on her own apartment, and she's soon on her way, going down the stairs. Hallah is able to wait until she's out of sight and resume picking the lock. In a few more determined minutes, finally, the deadbolt gives in with a satisfying click, and she's in.

(Medina) Marion can see the door open and how Hallah will be able to walk into the apartment afar. Does he stay where he is, or approach to go in with her?

(Hallah) Hallah seems deeply focused on the lock as she works carefully and not as quickly as she would like. Still she has enough skill to suggest she has done this before. Upon hearing the sound of a door opening, she quickly stops, slipping the pins and the credit up the sleeves of her oversized grunge flannel. She waits by the door, smoothing her ponytail as waiting for possibly a boyfriend to answer. Once the door clicks open, she darts inside. She does peek back to see if Marion is following behind.

(Marion) Marion is just trying to figure out if he should whistle or cough real loud but Hallah gets it all sorted by herself! They will definitely have to work on their tradecraft ebfore their next outing! He does start drawing closer. He can hear really well but he's got stairs and a doorway between him and hear now, better to get closer!

(Medina) Indeed! Marion can hear air conditioning units too as he moves, dozens of them, each with their own frequency, creating a discordant hum in this constant, intense soundscape. Electrical transformers buzzing on poles. Power lines singing in the faint breeze. And oh, how could I forget - Cicadas. Cicadas beginning their evening chorus. They start slow, but a wise woulf would cover his ears before he goes fucking /deef/.

You'd think that you'd hear the traffic, right? But as Marion enters the apartment, he doesn't hear the whisper of tires, nor the neighbors through the walls - no TV, no conversation, narry a footstep. It's not silence, it's ... Absence. It's wrong. With Marion's enhanced hearing, he should be able to hear a spider fart in Argentina, but it's just ,... Nothing, nothing but his and Hallah's own footsteps and breathing. Like the place is eating sound.

Inside, it's a beige 70s one-bedroom. A contiguous den and kitchen with doors leading to bed and bath. The overlight head in the kitchen is on, and it casts everything in a yellowish, washed-out glow. Shadows pool in corners deeper than they should, and the sodium vapor streetlight ... doesn't quite penetrate the windows. The blinds are closed, but even around the edges, it's darker than it should be.

The apartment's furniture is nothing special. No complaints, no stories - just the pad of a young man who keeps clean when he can afford the time against his job. The staples are there: couch, coffee table, some book shelves, a boxy CRT Magnavox with an Atari gathering dust. The dish rack next to the sink has some flatware and mugs all facing the same direction, lined up like soldiers. The fridge hums its muffled hum.

(Hallah) Hallah is inside the apartment and she does a quick study of such. She has just a small shudder as the apartment seems darker than it should be. Hallah is a little spooked about being here as well the girl knows there was bad stuff in this apartment. She looks over the Atari, the books and sucks in a soft breath. She then goes to stand in the living area and attempts to use her gift. She stays standing as if not wanting to touch the couch and stuff here. She might even be worried it could be tainted.

(Marion) Marion does NOT want to fiddle with what Hallah needs to do. She has her lane and he has is and he's staying in it. When he realizes the apartment is not quite right, however, he does hurry to get close, walking pat the door once to peek and try to see her, and then loitering outside. If only he had smokes he could pretend to smoke, but smoking is something people do and it's gross. In the meantime he'll hang out and maybe pretend he's having a dip or some other thing human's do when they loiter that isn't smoking. He might even do some trash diving for a can to pretend to spit in!

(Medina) Marion can hear the unsettling silence that swaddles his senses from the outside when he nears the door. As he stands watch from the walkway, though, he does his best not to be suspicious, just a Fellow Human. There are no trash cans up here, but someone did leave an unfinished joint on the window sill. Smoking is something gross that humans do, but there it is, lo and behold. Does he take it?

Meanwhile, he eventually hears Hallah's heartbeat slowing as she enters a meditative state, how her breathing goes evening out, and then the faint whisper of spirits gathering... He can't exactly hear the spirits, but he can sense they're there. He Knows - the way the air pressure changes, the world shifts just subtly so, the fact that Hallah has immersed herself in spiritual witnesses is clear.

(Hallah) Hallah sucks in a soft breath and then another soft breath. She looks over the room once more with this careful consideration. She then starts to slow and gentle her breathing. She works on calming her nerves. She starts at the atari just as a focal point that feels like a safer focal point than starting at the too dark corners or the cups that are lined up a little too perfectly. She secretly assumes this man must have OCD or something. She allows her breathing to be a slow and regular and her gaze while focused on the atari starts to become will more out of it as well. Her heart beat slows as she tries to look back, to hear back to listen into the past of this room. She is so deeply not with it anymore than it would be quite easy to sneak up on her, very easy.

(Marion) Marion should have grabbed a can on the way up, but he's not good at this part of the job. It's so easy in the woods you just... hide. As a wolf. People never see you. Here, he has to improvies. He looks around, and there it is, an option! It's a terrible option, but it's an option. He takes a deep breath and squats down slowly, reaching for it like he's hoping it will hop away like a cricket would. When it does not, he grabs it with the disgust that a person might if they did have to pick up a bug. He'd actually be happier picking up a bug! He goes into his routine then, holding the thing gingerly like it will burn him and pretending to put it to his lips. So gross!

(Medina) As Hallah takes a breath, it's almost like the apartment holds its breath with her. The wolf and dog spirits that have taught her this gift unwravel from their side of The Shadow. There is never truly any such thing as 'privacy' - not in the world of spirits. They witness our triumphs, our fears and our failures, and they whisper of what we've done. And it's this dynamic that Hallah takes advantage of. The world around her is paper-thin and imperceptible like a half-remembered dream as her focus pulls her away from here and now, her consciousness re-arising in the frame of the spirits' perceptions, as if an older moment in time. They tell her what they've heard in the strange, experiential way of spirits.

"We saw four people exiting," says a male voice, but he's cut off.

"Did we?"

"What?"

"Did we see four people? Because I'm looking at my notes from this afternoon. And all I have documented is that we arrived, we determined it was not an appropriate time, and we returned later to complete the assignment."

Silence, judgemental silence, the tension of tested patience. "Katy, what are you doing?"

"I'm doing my job. Which is documenting a routine welfare check on a missing employee. What are YOU doing?" The woman's voice is defensively stiff. "Nothing happened," she insists. "We saw some people in the parking lot. We waited for them to leave. We completed our check. That's all that happened."

"No, we were /told/ to report anything stran--"

"Matthew. Listen to me very carefully. If we report that we saw four people leaving this apartment then we have to do mountains of paperwork and we have to answer questions. Why we didn't stop them. Why we didn't call it in immediately. Why we let potential witnesses or accomplices leave without getting names, descriptions, or vehicle information. And why we were so rattled by people, just people, that we couldn't perform our basic duties. Do you want to answer those questions?"

"...No, but--"

"Did they /threaten/ you?" She asks hretorically. "Well no, but, ..." "Exactly. Did they have any weapons?"

"Not that I saw."

"So what are we reporting then? That we saw some people and got scared? I'm not putting in paperwork that we can't handle this assignment. We'll get fired."

(Medina) This smells an awful lot like a skunk! Huh! What a weird, gross cigarette. Why are humans so weird? Who would smoke a skunk? Unless Marion is a worldly lupus, anyway...

And then the door next to him starts to click open. He hears it. And in the world of Marion, he does a great job of smoking! Smoking this unlit cigarette!

The young, brown-skinned man gives Marion a confused, half-offended look. This apartment door shares the window that he'd found the party cigarette on, and there's this tense silence that suggests that it may have been his. "Dude," he says with disgust. "At least fucking light it."

(Medina) The spirits that coalesce around Hallah to share a slice of the world and what happened keep replaying the past. She is grounded in this physical world, but somehow, there are the little whispers and rustlings of their presence in her hindbrain, along her skin like a breeze as they continue.

"Well then we'll just say they had weapons, duh. We don't report this, it'll bite us in the ass."

"Maybe."

"No, truly. You remember the training documentation, they /said/, there are people who are like this, they can make you feel this way. That big guy, it was like he was a fucking monster in a man suit and my brain knew it even if my eyes didn't! That's exactly what they said to report up."

"I'm not doing this."

"Well how's this, then. You were on lunch break, I was being proactive. /I'll/ report it myself. If I get fired, fine, I have something lined up. But listen, I really think we can frame this right, and get someone above our pay grade decide if it's worth pursuing."

And then silence. Hallah will come back to the real world, the here and the now, as the spirits depart.

(Hallah) Hallah was feeling relieved during the first part of the conversation, but as it continued the small kinfolk started to feel deeply concerned. Even while in the trance, her small form draw tight and her breathing quickened a little. When the vision ends, she looks a little panicked and whispers to herself. "Oh shit..." She doesn't want to linger and starts to head toward the door.

(Marion)

Marion panics a little, but he is clever and has seen a lot of movies so he does his best job of pretending to be high. Or drunk maybe, one of the two. He's not a party boy but he has seen a lot of movies and people often act as if they are drunnk or high in movies. Mostly he has seen older movies though, and especially weterns, so his preformance of "High Cowboy" may really be more like the old timey overacted presentations of slurring drunks! "Oh, man, did it go out? Wiiiild man..." he stares at the thing in his hand, but tenses up just in case it's time to dance. He offerss it to the guy then, asking if, "You want some?" as if the average person ever accepts anything from the Rage 5 Galliard!

(Medina) It was one thing to be offended. Rolling off of the momentum of his territorialness over his stolen joint, the man had spoken up. But then there's the eye contact with -- speaking of a monster in a man suit -- a monster in a man suit. And the man freezes like a bunny rabbit or a doe who just heard something. When Marion offers it to him, he withdraws unthinkingly into his doorway like an eyepoked snail. "N-No, no I'm good." He closes the door.