Unknown Armies - IC

[Blythe]

Miyo listens to Bran and Norm, and she sighs and looks idly upward at the dull top of the inside of the cab...and says the first thing that comes to mind about Raven Moonshadow. Being irritable and in a poor temper, Miyo gripes, "I'm all for anything that can get us some contacts, something that gets us a handhold in what's going on here. I'm in. But damn...Raven Moonshadow sounds like the name a teenage girl picks when she's rebelling against perky parents during a goth phase. But metal snakes? Occult underground? Sure. Sure. Why not? But how are we going to do it, exactly? I'm...well, not a paragon of action. I'm just an accountant.. I like debating. Hopefully 'giant evil metal snake' can be debated with." 

When the taxi stops outside Norm's house, Miyo pauses and waits for Norm to finish what he's stopped at home to do.

[Kythia]

Tuesday 13th August 10:48

Pet Warehouse, Ferguson Street

Jessica

He rolls his eyes and looks exasperated at being asked a question - just all the customer service training recommends.  "Not heard of it pet.  We just do stuff for pets here.  Try a map or something, like."  He shakes his head in a world-weary "what is the world coming to" gesture and tries to squeeze round you.  He's got a lot to do, cigarette breaks won't have themselves and the horror of a customer speaking to him has necessitated a long stint hiding round the back in case this was a horrific omen and it would happen again.

[darras]

Jessica

She couldn't really claim that the man's response was a shock, not in comparison to the other shocks she'd been having all morning.. But as the words and their meanings dropped into that hollowly empty spot inside Jessica that she'd helpfully labelled 'this isn't really happening', she stepped back to allow the employee to scoot off to wherever he was going. This left Jessica with a decision to make - go back to bed and hope that this whole mess sorted itself out by the time she woke, or find that oddly stoned gent and attempt to hammer some answers out of him that wouldn't make her feel like she was on the worst acid trip in the world.

Tempting as the first plan was.. Jessica was far too awake for trying to sleep through any oddness. So, setting her shoulders and still absently carrying the mostly empty drink containers, Jessica stepped back out of the shop and looked around for that car.

[Remiel]

By all accounts, Norm shouldn't be alive.  He should be picking himself out of the tangled and charred remains of the cab after it wrapped itself around a tree, a telephone pole, or possibly a double-decker bus.  But the cab, he figures, is probably something similar to the Knight Bus; somehow it magically manages to be where all the other cars aren't.

After regaining his land legs, he stumbles up to the main entrance of his flat building.  Ah, good old 27 Post Lane.  As good a collection of cat-collecting spinsters and misanthropic recluses as he could ever hope to meet.  Nodding obligingly to Gerry the permanent fixture in the lobby, Norm sidled down the hallway, noting with approval that the water stain on the peeling yellow wallpaper (seriously--who in their right mind thinks that yellow is ever a good color for wallpaper?) has increased another centimetre in length.   Norm has been keeping a journal on its progress.  By his estimation, the stain will reach the floor by September.

Five minutes and one rickety elevator ride later, Norm pauses outside of his flat on the fourth floor.  Excellent.  The hair cunningly taped across the gap from door to frame has not been moved.  Of course, Norm has to break the barrier, but it's of no account as he unlocks the door. 

In the laughably small room that passes for his study, he unlocks the bottom desk drawer and finds what he is looking for--a Walter P22.  Tucking the gun into his right pants pocket, he locks the desk up again, leaves the flat, and re-secures the hair in place again.  Everything is exactly as it should be.

Five minutes more and he is back at the cab.  "Sorry about that," he says, looking comparatively more cheery.

[Blythe]

Miyo take a good look at 27 Post Lane while waiting on Norm, and it occurs to her that she's never attempted to go visit Norm or be overly friendly; they'd been friends in the accounting department at the company, but neither had really sought out the other. She coughs and asks Norm, "What did you go pick up?" On the one hand, she's curious about whatever Norm felt strongly enough about to go pick up, but on the other hand, sometimes it was better not to ask Norm what he was up to. She figures that she may as well ask him this time, though, as it looks like all of them might venture into danger sooner rather than later.

[Remiel]

Norm smiles at Miyo.  "Insurance."  He pats his pocket, and the noticably lumpy shape there.

[Kythia]

Tuesday 13th August 10:50

Pet Warehouse, Ferguson Street

Jessica

He's not interested enough in anything about you to lie. That was clear enough.  But, despite his apathetic and unconcerned attitude to most things it's not possible that he's simply not noticed the large warehouse just down the road from his place of work.  Put it all together and what are you left with?  That a building you visited most days a week has disappeared, option A.  Or that you share enough in common with the well-dressed stoner parked opposite it to both be under the impression that had happened.  Option B.

Neither are great.  You rack your brains for a C but all are unlikely and, frankly, just as bad.  Some sort of Punk'd type show is out - far too much work gone into it, surely. 

And while sure it's not your problem per se, it's hard to avoid the crushing feeling of powerlessness it inspires.  What's that, Jessica, delivering some coffees?  I think not.  Bam.  Asking for help at the local pet shop?  Apathetic uncaring for you.  Bam.  Need some sort of aid?  Here, have an incoherent druggie.  Bam.

For the moment, it's all a little too much.

darras

Fight, flee or freeze.  Your choice.

Tuesday 13th August 10:55

In a Taxi

Bran, Norm, Miyo

The taxi is back in gear and racing through Newcastle before the door has even fully closed, let alone a chance for Norm to get his seatbelt on.  It does slow, though, once you reach the student area of Heaton.  Largely because the residents seem to have attended the same road safety classes as the residents.  Too early - surely? - for them to be drunk but students wearing a variety of weird and wonderful clothing that you can only assume expresses their status as a unique and beautiful snowflake walk on the road or cross with narry a look.

He eventually pulls up outside a nondescript terrace.  Number thirty one if the numbers on the wooden gate leading into the tiny and unkempt small front garden are to be trusted.  An upstairs window is open and what you vaguely think is whale-song drifts out of it.  Other than that there's no real difference between it and the other terraces on the road.  The same empty plastic fast food container lodged in the hedge, the same desperate need for the windows to be washed and the same general lack of upkeep of the outside.

"This is you.  You'll tell Ron it was you wanting to stop off, like?  Need him to sign some forms for me."  He flicks a switch on the dashboard to unlock the doors, not, apparently expecting any money from you.

[darras]

Jessica

Having left the pet shop in the most determined of spirits Jessica suddenly feels the weight of everything that had happened that day. It descends on her shoulders like a crashing tidal wave feeling heavier than anything she'd ever felt. All of a sudden Jessica finds that she is completely unable to breathe.

She finally drops the coffee cup holder as her fingers suddenly feel nerveless, her feet refuse to respond to any cues from her brain to move and Jessica freezes in place on the pavement. The trauma of it all is suddenly just far, far too much as a tear starts to form in the corner of her eye.

[Blythe]

Miyo feels considerably better about Norm and his "insurance;" normally most people would not want a paranoid conspiracy theorist to have what's probably a weapon under there, but Miyo thought to herself, Yes, but they don't have him on their side. You only need to be afraid of an armed paranoid conspiracy theorist if he happens to currently be afraid of you.

Miyo steps out of the cab when it comes to a stop outside the terrace, and she looks around to get a grip on her surroundings. It really does mostly look mundane and normal. She says, unsure, to her companions, "So this is the place then?"

[Kythia]

Tuesday 13th August 10:50

Outside the Pet Warehouse, Ferguson Street

Jessica

"You know" a cultured accentless voice says behind you "I should really get some cards printed.  John S Anderson, saving random girls from psychiatric meltdown since two thousand and fourteen."  There's a giggle and the man you were talking to earlier moves round in front of you.

"Two thousand and twelve, actually.  I guess she counts.  Been a while but I'm still at the top of my game.  Come on coffee girl.  It's all good."  He snaps his fingers beside your head and then waves a finger in front of your eyes.

"We met, earlier, but you won't remember that.  Hell, I could say anything right now couldn't I?  Can you even hear me pet?  Seriously, it's all good.  I'm your forgotten by everyone, stoned off my tits, cartoon character meeting knight in shining armour.  Bet that's the first time anyone's said that to you."

He peers into your eyes for a moment.  "You know?  I think there has to be...something.  Some way of, I don't know... Some way of broadening your mind so this shit doesn't hit.  I think about this a lot.  I know it's all that sixties bullshit but I'm not some stoned hippie."  He giggles "I'm stoned, sure, but I vote conservative and drive a BMW.  Have a job and was meant to have an interview for a better one later today.  I'm practically the man, man."

He steps back "Come on, Coffee girl.  Talk to me.  Say 'Thank you, John, let us retire to the local hostelry where I shall repay your generosity with ale' preferably, but anything would do."

[darras]

Jessica

Jessica's brain can just about register that she's being talked to, can just about pay attention to the whiff of weed in her nose but that is about as far as it is prepared to take things for now. Jess lets out a quiet little whimper as she darts out a coffee stained hand and grabs a hold of John's sleeve with a tight little grip. Somebody mentioned beer? Intoxication sounded pretty good right now, maybe she would wake up with a hangover and everything would be back to normal again. If she could just.. move her feet.

[Remiel]

Norm

"Ron.  Yeah.  Got it," he says to the cab driver, before the door shuts and he zooms off, leaving the three of them standing alone on the pavement.  Alone, that is, except for a fluid, ever-moving ecosystem of uni kids.  Dressed in everything from rugby jerseys to Victorian dress to practically nothing, and everything in between.  Ah, university, thinks Norm.  He has vague recollections of being forced to share a bunk with a lad from Manchester who talked up Man U all the goddamn time, really, he wouldn't shut up about it.  That and pussy, endless pussy, everything was about pussy with him.  Pussy and football.   Well, pussy, football, and beer.  Ryan...Bridges, that was his name.  Yeah, that was about when Norm first started to hate humanity.

He approaches number thirty-one, and glances up at the open window.  The whalesong is pretty odd, but nothing especially worrying in and of itself.   With a quick look at Bran and Miyo for confirmation, he briskly strides up to the door and knocks upon it.  "Miss...er...." he grimaces, feeling dirty just speaking the words.  "Moonshadow? Raven Moonshadow?"

[Blythe]

Miyo follows Norm, giving him a nod when he glaces back, looking around the place as she does so. She notices the open window as if for the first time, and although the whale-song is off-putting, she figures that if no one answers...it couldn't hurt to climb on up and go through the window. After all, the situation did seem urgent. She waits to see if the door is answered first, watching Norm cringe with the same level of feeling she has over that 'Moonshadow' name.

[Kythia]

Tuesday 13th August 10:50

Walking along Ferguson Street

Jessica

"Someone always said beer, Coffee Girl.  That right there is the beauty of the product.  Sun's over the yardarm somewhere in the world, as my dad used to say.  Are you a beer drinker?"  He digs a brand new iPhone from his pocket and starts tapping "I thought you girls were all about your alcopops and your J2Os.  Google Maps says this way, Apple's thingie says we're in Brighton.  Fancy trusting Google just this once?"

He starts to walk down the road then suddenly turns to you.  "Now, Coffee Girl.  Call me psychic but I have this crazy hunch that your loving parents didn't look down on little baby you and say 'We should call her Coffee Girl'  What do they call you instead?"  He sniffs and wipes at his nose, he seems a tad more manic and energetic than when you left him and the pieces of that particular puzzle come in a box labelled "Age 3 and upwards".  He does seem relatively harmless though, "weirdo radar" is pinging but "dangerous weirdo radar" remains silent.

"Mr and Mrs Weird-Guy-You-Met-In-The-Street, for their part, named me Jonathan but the local magistrates agreed that I should be John for perpetuity.  And the reason history will forget me is that instead of being the new newsreader for Look North I have been forgotten by everyone except pretty young girls."  He laughs.  "Young pretty girls.  Pretty young pretty girls."



Tuesday 13th August 10:48

31 Ebor Street, Heaton

(Bran), Norm, Miyo

The door swings inwards at Norm's knock revealing an entry hallway of badly plastered walls and cutting off Miyo's assessment of how easy it would be to get in through the window.  "Moderately" was her inexpert belief.

A door leads off to the left to, knowing student houses, a room which has been reconditioned into a rent-bearing bedroom while you can dimly see a door at the end leading, again at a guess, to a lounge area.  Dimly because half way down the hall, just past the first door off, a table has been awkwardly wedged in place, the flat top facing you in a makeshift barricade.  There are suspicious stains on the surface but nothing more suspicious or horrifying than you'd find in any student house.  A sheet of handwritten paper has been attached to it in blu tak though, lines of feminine handwriting:

psalmus David prima sabbati Domini est terra et plenitudo eius orbis terrarum et universi; qui habitant in eo quia; ipse super maria fundavit eum et super flumina praeparavit eum quis ascendit in montem Domini aut quis stabit in loco sancto eius innocens manibus et mundo corde qui non accepit in vano animam suam nec iuravit in dolo proximo su hic accipiet benedictionem a Domino et misericordiam a Deo salvatore suo haec est generatio quaerentium eum quaerentium faciem Dei Iacob diapsalma adtollite portas principes vestras et elevamini portae aeternales et introibit rex gloriae quis est iste rex gloriae Dominus fortis et potens Dominus potens in proelio adtollite portas principes vestras et elevamini portae aeternales et introibit rex gloriae quis est iste rex gloriae Dominus virtutum ipse est rex gloriae diapsalma

with a handdrawn symbol scrawled under it:

(Riveda), Remiel, Blythe

You can make a critical General Education roll if you wish to make head or tail of the writing.  Stick results up in the OOC.  I don't think any of you really have any more appropriate skills but if you think you can make a case then do so.

[darras]

Jessica

"I'm beginning to see why Look North turned you down.." Jessica mutters in response before clapping a horrified hand over her mouth as she realises that her state of shock has cancelled out her brain to mouth filter.

"Jess.." She adds swiftly after, "Jessica. They called me Jessica. I call me Jess. I .. I'm rambling.." She finally takes a few steps after Jonathan. "Let's trust google, I'm in desperate need of some mind bleach. But first maybe you can explain a few things.. Like what the hell happened to Horner's."

[Kythia]

Tuesday 13th August 10:48

31 Ebor Street, Heaton

(Bran), Norm, Miyo

Neither of you are idiots and you can puzzle out bits and bobs - Dei is God; terra, earth; you're pretty sure Domin-i/us means Lord.  But that's not enough to get a full translation.  It does seem likely it's religious in nature, not only because of the odd word you can pick out but also because of a vague impression that no other area really uses Latin.  As to what precisely it is though, Bible passage, prayer, missal, benediction or other, you're not too sure.



Tuesday 13th August 10:50

En Route to the King's Head

Jessica

"Ah, now there you are mistaken.  My interview is in" he glances at his phone "about four hours.  And I, Coffee Girl, was a certain thing.  But I have had an incredibly stressful day and, well, there's no point me going to it anyway.  Noone remembers me.  Watch this."  He hits a speed dial button on his phone then turns on speakerphone.

"Domino's Pizza"

"Hello there, Domino's Pizza.  My name is John S Anderson and I'm currently nuts deep in your mother.  I thought I better tell you the name because she's going to be screaming it for quite some time now.  So I just thought I'd warn you.  John S Anderson, remember that."

"Fuck you, man."

"Probably later, once I've finished with your mum."

He hangs up and turns to you.  "A conversation they'll remember, no?  We'll leave it a couple of minutes and I'll show you.  Me and attractive females, they're the only ones who remember me.  Now..." he pulls a silver cigarette case from his pocket and takes a slim cigar from it then offers it you.

"While we wait.  J Honer and Sons.  Remember the plural, it landed me with a ridiculous middle name.  It was back there" he jerks his thumb over his shoulder "and now it is not.  People forget it just as soon as they forget me.  Because everything is muddled, you see.  Sober people see the world as it is, muddled.  Me, currently, I'm getting muddled enough that I see it straight.  But our crazy muddled world gets confused who is me, who is Jean and what is Honer's.  All the same, you see.  That's why I changed my name.  Well, Eva Longoria, you know her, is why I changed my name.  I hardly ever ask for her any more though.  Did you know its possible to get bored of Eva?  It is."

Ahead of you you see the King's Head pub, a pleasant local pub peopled entirely by a handful of regulars the few times you've been in there.  Now though, several taxis are parked outside and a rough looking group of men are carrying it out of the pub and storing it in boots and back seats under the direction of an old man standing in the doorway.

"Ah.  It appears that the local hansom cabs have turned their hand to removals.  A logical step if you ask me.  All transport is transport isn't it?  Do you think it's open?"

[darras]

Jessica

Jessica shrugs, getting to the point of no longer caring what odd things might occur today. "Doesn't look like it, but I guess you could ask?" She then frowns slightly before asking another question, "So where are these attractive females in the plural that remember you? Eva you've explained but I don't see Scarlett Johansen or Rachel Weisz hanging about. And who is Jean?" 

[Remiel]

Norm

"Hrm.  Unfortunately, I'm a bit rusty on my Latin.  Okay, a lot rusty.  Does that make any sense to you?" Norm asks his companions.  "David, Dei, Iacob, Dominus...if I had to guess, this sounds either like a passage from the Bible, or some sort of imprecation against demons.  Either way, I think we ought to leave it where it is.  "

He carefully edges around the table, taking care not to disturb the paper or the drawing.

[Kythia]

Tuesday 13th August 10:50

King's Head

Jessica

"Rachel Weisz is the girl from The Constant Gardener right?  Never thought of her.  Has she been on TV?  Jean is this old woman who...you know, this conversation needs booze.  Forget Domino's watch this."  He beckons you to follow and wanders up to one of the guys unloading furniture.

"You open?"

"Nah" the loader has a London accent.  "Renovations"

"Fair enough.  Coffee Girl, don't panic.  I'll be back in two minutes"  John nods to himself and then throws a punch at the loader's face.  Whether he's a lover you couldn't say, but he's not a fighter and its not the greatest punch.  Still, the loader is taken by surprise and ends up with a nosebleed while John's takes off down the street.  There's a crash as the loader drops the bar stool he's carrying and takes off after him.  His mates soon follow but one by one they slow back to a walk and look round confused.  Slowly walking back over to pick up their loads.

"John?  What the fuck happened to your nose?" One shouts and the recently punched loader looks confused and squats to look in a rear view mirror.  "The fuck?  Fucking blood pressure or something."

A few minutes later John rejoins Jess and gives her a "I told you so" look.  The guy he punched only a moment ago comes over, casually and friendly.  "Help you?"

"See."  John says to Jess.  "Doesn't remember me at all.  It's only you and this other girl."  To the loader's confused look he gives a it-doesn't-matter shake of his head but then looks up as the old guy directing operations comes over to the two of you.

"We're closed, like" he tells you, casting a disapproving look over at John.  "And we wouldn't want your type in here anyway.  Do yourself a favour, lassie, and lose him.  You can do better, like.  You ever realise that, you come and see me.  I'll get you straightened out."  He apparently notices John for the first time and casts a disapproving look over him then frowns at you in momentary confusion.  He shrugs and squints at Jess.  "You alright lassie?  You look like you're having a scare.  Don't blame you hanging around with the likes of him.  You can do better."



Tuesday 13th August 10:48

31 Ebor Street, Heaton

(Bran), Norm, Miyo

Norm heads on into the remainder of the house and you spread out to look round.

Time for some old school map action

Room one is the entrance hallways with the makeshift barricade in place.

Room three is a lounge.  The door in the southwest leads to a flight of stairs, you assume, but it is held shut by a plait of red string with another handwritten piece of latin blu-taced to the door:

Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio; contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium imperat illi Deus; supplices deprecamur: tuque, Princeps militiae coelestis, Satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, divina virtute in infernum detrude.

Other than that and the empty space in the middle where, presumably, a table once stood there is little of interest.  A TV.  A selection of DVDs leaning towards horror.  A couch that likely wants burning after the fluids that have presumably sunk into it over its years serving students.  A dead potted plant.  The window looks out onto a neglected and overgrown back yard.

Room four, in defiance of building codes, is a bathroom.  Toilet, sink and shower.  On the lid of the toilet someone has long ago scrawled "CLAUDANDUS!" in marker pen.  The coils of rock climbing rope holding the lid shut are presumably a newer addition though.  The sink has a pair of boxer shorts shoved in the plughole to block it, while a t-shirt of some type wrapped round a hockey stick serves the same function in the shower drain.  The frosted glass window looks over the same back yard.

Room five is the kitchen.  The fridge-freezer has been moved from position leaving a grey and dusty corner full of spiderwebs exposed and now lays on its side in front of the washing machine forcing you to step round it awkwardly.  The microwave sits innocuously in the sink, a hefty old-fashioned thing that looks like it weighs a fair amount.  The worksurfaces are perhaps cleaner than you might expect and the basin sitting on one of them has less washing waiting to be done than the majority of student houses.  A freakishly well stocked spice rack sits on the windowsill next to the washing up liquid and a scourer, adorning the view of the back yard while a locked door leads out into, you can only assume, that same back yard. 

Room two when you finally climb back over the barricade to look at it is, as you suspected, a converted bedroom.  An unmade bed in the centre, a desk beneath the window with an old desktop computer and a pile of books about the Roman Republic on the side, each bearing the stamp of Newcastle University library.  Fitted wardrobes are closed but judging by the contents of the hamper at the base of the bed they'd contain female clothes.  A small shelf on one wall has framed photos of some girl with some guy, same girl with other girls, same girl with another girl, same girl in a hockey uniform and so forth.

There's also a sink, added at some point or possibly original, you're not sure.  It's the point that sticks out though as the porcelain has been smashed with, presumably, the hockey stick laying nearby.  A long tube of metal hangs from out the plughole through the gap in the porcelain.  The tube is made up of many small bands, each about a quarter of an inch long and each slightly overlapping the one below it so the entire shape is somewhat articulated.  It's full length is impossible to determine.  Part of it remains down the plughole while the end that emerged has been smashed with that same hockey stick exposing a meticulous fabric of cogs inside it.  Similar cogs and bits of metal scatter the floor nearby.  The outer casing is silver, or silver coloured at least, but the internal workings seem to be made from something that could well be brass - none of you are metallurgists.

[darras]

Jessica

"So you're trying to say that sometimes you are you, sometimes you're this old lady called Jean and sometimes you're a building that houses Horner's?" Jessica raises that she sounds slightly hysterical at this moment, but is no longer at the point where she cares as she watches him accost the removals man with an incredulous look on her face.

"I'm.." She responds to the old guy. "Ok. I guess. Thanks!" She gives an overly bright smile, grabs John by the coat sleeve and pulls him away down the road, "Will you stop assaulting people!"

[Kythia]

Tuesday 13th August 10:55

Near the Quayside

Jessica

He shrugs "He won't remember" and leads the two of you down the road in the vague direction, if your internal map is accurate, of another pub.

"Nah, I'm never actually Jean.  It's just the universe thinks I am."  He walks in silence for a while, apparently thinking that that explains everything, but turns back to you just as a Wetherspoons named The Quayside comes in to view.

"You know, Coffee Girl, I'm starting to think that I didn't explain that too well.  You know when you run it over in your head?  Let me try to put this into coffee terms for you.

Imagine you'd made a cup of Nescafe, a cup of Kenco and a cup of...shit I don't know, what's another coffee brand.  Fair trade or something.  So you have three coffee cups that look the same.  The the Nescafe guy says he wants sugar in his.  But they all look the same and you can't tell which is which so you just say Ah fuck it, and choose one at random.  Right?  Because they all look the same?

Well, Jean did some stuff so that me and Honers look the same as her to the universe.  So sometimes if something is meant to happen to her - a piece of good luck, maybe or whatever - the universe can't tell which is her so just goes Ah fuck it and chooses at random.  And it works the other way.  The News is important to her, I'm not really certain why.  So if I'm on the news then the universe goes Ah fuck it and figures its probably her thats on the news.  Does that make any more sense? 

Like, there's this chick who summons demons right?  I saved her from this mental breakdown like I did you, I'm a modern day superhero, right?  But if she decided to summon a demon to help me out, there's a chance it'd end up helping Jean or Honer's out, because it couldn't tell the difference.  I dunno.  It's tough to explain and I can't decide if I'm too high or not high enough.  Or, I dunno, the wrong sort of high..."

He trails off into a thoughtful shrug then nods at the pub.  "What's your poison?"

[darras]

Jessica

"He might not remember, but his broken nose won't be fun to live with either way.." Jessica points out archly before listening to his baffling spiel about the universe.

"I'd probably be better off having whatever you're not having, listening to that.. But maybe the rabbit hole would be a safer place for my mental break so.. You'd better choose. And while you're at it you can consider how to explain why this Jean would have done something like that. And also why she'd want to look like a building, and if Honer's wasn't supposed to vanish then who was? You or her? How do you know this lady?"

[Kythia]

Tuesday 13th August 10:55

Near the Quayside

Jessica

"I'm trying to explain, Coffee Girl.  Don't get mad with me.  So, OK, are you religious?  This is my coffee, drink it in remembrance of me?"  This is apparently the most hilarious collection of words ever uttered and his giggles last until the entry of the pub.  Standard early morning Wetherspoons crowd - the type for whom cheap beer at eleven AM is more "way of life" than "treat".  A couple of suited businessmen tucking in to a breakfast stand out like a sore thumb, the red eyed and giggling man you're with less so.  It's more depressing than rough and the internal music system apparently agrees and has selected Coldplay as the perfect accompaniment.

"So imagine God has this list of what's going to happen.  Lottery win for this guy, cancer for that guy...I don't know, fucking...errr....promotion for that one.  Right?  But he's a busy deity is old God and doesn't always pay attention.  Occasionally just goes, like I said, Ah fuck it, and chooses someone at random if he can't tell the difference.  So Jean wanted to confuse him with her, me and Honers.  So that if cancer was on the list for her, there's a chance I'd get it.  Right?

Two pints of Fosters please, pet.

So she persuaded me to go along with this through the medium of..." his hands trace out either a guitar or an incredibly deformed female torso "So I deed polled my name and we stood together in the Oh and wrote our names out and various shit.  So she's helped my career and she makes..." he shakes his head.  "This is kinda awkward.  Be so much easier if you were a guy.  She makes people appear?  You know, for a night?"

The bargirl stares in confusion at the two pints in her hand for a moment then sighs and tips them away.  Writes a note on a notepad then comes back over to you.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

John rolls his eyes and gives you a tenner.  "Can you make this happen" before continuing.

"So yeah.  Honestly you're almost as up to speed as I am.  Noone remembers me" he gestures at the bargirl "and noone remembers Honer's.  And that includes Jean, I've rung her loads.  So the building is gone, but I'm not and I'm not sure why.  And as best I can tell people still remember Jean, but noone remembers either of us except you, which is why I'm following you round a bit.  And, honestly, I'm not sure what to do."  He looks, by the end of the speech, thoroughly and almost pathetically miserable.

[darras]

Jessica

Jessica stares slightly agape at John as he recounts his sorry tale. She blinks slightly as the bargirl pours out the beer and then turns to Jessica for her order. Taking John's tenner she bares her teeth in an attempt at a smile, "Two Fosters please." She asks politely, finding a dry spot on the bar to lay the money.

She waits for the bar girl to get out of earshot before responding slowly, "So.. I'm going to ignore that you're telling me God exists for now. Because .. no. And instead I'm going to concentrate on you being so desperate for .." Jessica copies his guitar shaped hand movements with a smirk, "that you'd sign on for significantly increased chances of cancer and disappearing. And then I'm going to move on to, yes but how did she get Honer's to sign on to this? It's a building. Inanimate.."

She pauses to think for a moment before calling down the bar to the bar tender, "Could you add a couple of whiskies to that?"

Turning back to John she adds, "And when I'm done untwisting my mind from those previous points you can tell me about this demon girl."

[Remiel]

Norm

Trusting that Miyo, and, presumably Bran, are behind him, Norm delves further into the domicile.  He slips his right hand into his pocket, curling his fingers around the handle of his Walther.  Just in case.

Norm does not seriously believe in reincarnation.  But if he did, he would definitely be the reincarnation of some 1940s detective in a seedy American pulp detective novel.  The kind who spent most of his time in a threadbare office nursing a mostly-empty bottle of bourbon and ogling leggy dames while dryly remarking upon the heat.   Well, when he wasn't legging it away down alleys pursued by simian gangsters twice his bulk, anyway.  This is almost like a dream for him.  Now, if only he had a name like "Mickey Stallone" or something.

Slowly, cautiously, he investigates the lounge, taking care to keep quiet and listen for anything out of the ordinary.   Although, given the events of the last twenty-four hours, he's not entirely sure what "ordinary" is, anymore.  An entire factory disappearing into thin-air; a Kashmiri fellow who derives his powers from making people angry; and a far-too-savvy seventeen-year old spinning tales about fish tanks and anagrams.   What a world.

Norm takes note of the sealed-off door with the Latin on it, and moves on to investigate the rest of the flat.  In the bathroom, he takes in the toilet, the sink.  In the kitchen, the microwave.  The story isn't too hard to piece together.  It is clear that someone went to very great pains to prevent something from escaping from the plumbing.

But it isn't until he gets to the bedroom that he understands why.  First of all, who has a sink in their bedroom?  Second of all, what is that sticking out of it?  The metal snake...of course.  Norm nods to himself, and crouches down for a closer look.  The cogs, springs and such seem normal enough, but the articulated bit seems extremely unusual, especially stuffed down a sink hole.  It kind of reminds him of a plastic toy snake he used to have as a child.   It's bad enough having snakes coming up through the plumbing, but to have ones made of metal do so must certainly ruin a pleasant Sunday afternoon.  Perhaps this Raven Moonshadow bird isn't quite so crazy.

Nah, she's still crazy.

"Miyo? Bran?"  He returns to the lounge, to compare notes with the others before deciding on his next course of action.