She'd been hoping that going to the school at noon would mean plenty of daylight hours to get the thing done. America was familiar with what the school was like after dark, and the basement would likely be worse. Stepping in through the front door, America slipped out of her rain poncho with a sigh and chagrined laugh.
It was pouring outside, and the sunny afternoon she'd hoped for was a grim and stormy <******** you to any such plans. Lightning lit up the corridor and the girl couldn't help but roll her eyes at the increase in the abandoned school's already creepy atmosphere.
rejam
Posted: Wed Jul 30, 2014 3:33 pm
At the sound of her laugh Taym emerged from a classroom down the hallway, a cigarette in one hand and a scrub brush in the other, which he deposited unceremoniously into an empty bucket on the way to meet her.
"Fine ******** day for it," he observed flatly and without so much as a hello, with a vaguely accusing edge. He had not worn a poncho. He'd left early, of course, and thus been caught unawares but the chances were good that Taym wouldn't have been caught dead in a poncho anyway, and a good sprint had saved him the worst of it but the baby curls of his still-growing-back hair clung damply to his forehead. He startled at a sudden peal of thunder. "Well," he said grimly, "at least there's no windows in the basement, if we're due for a repeat of that. Edith's onto something with the plastic idea."
America shook off the rain from the uncool piece of plastic, drops flying out everywhere, including Taym's general direction. She grinned at his less than cheerful demeanor and hung the poncho from a busted open locker door. What followed was a quick check of her small mission supply bag: runic bandages, energy bars, water, a lighter, small civilian first aid kit, pendant. Then the items specifically for this trip: a clipboard, a pen, a copy of the school basement's map, and a clip-on flashlight.
Satisfied the girl looked up at Taym, eyebrows raised and grin a little taunting, "If it's too spooky for you, I'll let you stay up here. But it'd a shame after doing so well the last time I brought you on a bravery test."
rejam
Posted: Wed Jul 30, 2014 4:27 pm
He stared at her for a second, uncomprehending, before he caught up.
"Jesus," he said, turning away towards the stairs. "I'd almost forgotten about that. Seems like forever ago." And in a sense it was.
He had a bag too, but then he usually did, and if he'd have been offended by the suggestion of man purse he'd have been more offended by the truth, which was that it was halfway between that and a sort of security blanket, and besides that an old habit from the days when everything he owned he'd had to carry around on his back, zealously guarded for all that it consisted of a change of clothes and a half a pack of cigarettes and a couple of cheap paperbacks. Nowadays it contained much the same things that America's did (and a half a pack of cigarettes and a cheap paperback).
Clipping the flashlight on to the front of her shirt, America's grin widened as she followed, "And candy too, if you play your cards right." Another beat, "If Scotland's waiting down here in a school girl's uniform, though..." She trailed off as they reached the basement.
Glancing down at the map, the girl switched tracks, "It's ******** huge down here, and there a lot of spaces that don't match up to the upstairs plan, so strong chances of nasty little surprises." This was Deus, though, and that was pretty par for course.
the ooc
Prompts:
Roll 1d10 when u want one
1 - A piano begins to play a jaunty little tune. A tall, shadowy figure emerges with a dance in its step. This is no shadowling, and as it attacks, you can tell it's no mere student, either. Shadowman (Boss) HP: 99 Auto Damage: 8 Special: If you miss twice in a row, it escapes while hitting for 20 damage 2 - a small group of 5 shadowlings (5 hp total, 1 auto damage) 3 - a small group of 10 shadowlings (10 hp total, 1 auto damage) 4 - there is a desk in the center of an empty room with a child in it. Upon closer inspection, the child is actually a life sized doll. 5 - you find a trunk full of old issues of Busty Asian Beauties in mint condition 6 - you find several familiar helmets and suits surrounded by stained concrete. It's obvious that a hunter testing had occurred in the room at some point, but the golem bodies had never been cleaned up. 7 - you find a box of old history text books, glancing in them you see that they were written from a hunter point of view, offering odd insights to certain events. There is a large section on the Arthurian period. 8 - a small group of 5 shadowlings (5 hp total, 1 auto damage) 9 - a small group of 10 shadowlings (10 hp total, 1 auto damage) 10 - the shadows in the room begin to shift and emerge from every crack and corner to become a dark wave of bodies that threatens to overwhelm you. HP: 666 Autodamage: 6 Escape: roll 1d20 to reach the upper level and relative safety (10 and over is success, you take the auto damage for every failure)
rejam
Rejam rolled 1 10-sided dice:
8Total: 8 (1-10)
Posted: Wed Jul 30, 2014 5:54 pm
He made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat at the very notion, and unthinkingly summoned Fiona to hand as America handled the flashlight. It was one of those fleeting moments when he was grateful for having a small, discreet weapon, for being so far from cumbersome and allowing him the reassuring weight in his hand before it was necessary. He was oblivious, however, to her more aesthetic qualities: the shifting sunlight-tinged runes a pleasant contrast to the sound of the rain, the more beautiful for being surrounded by pressing, dusty darkness. He would forever, inevitably, think of her as unimpressive.
"We ought to find someone," he observed, "with some sort of... I don't ********' know. Architectural? Cartographic? skills. It'd be nice to have a working map although," he added grimly, "I don't trust the rooms to not shift around when we aren't looking, anyway."
With some effort he wrenched open the door at the bottom of the stairs, going in front of her stubbornly, and he'd opened his mouth to expand on the idea of rooms shifting around when he was beset by a scuttling mass broken off from the less tangible darkness.
Mere days after he'd arrived on the Island Clerise had thrown him down the Sun Run and he'd fallen to wave after wave after shadowlings, utterly helpless. Now he actually paused to adjust his cigarette with an irritated noise before dispatching them whack-a-mole style, although shaking a particularly persistent one off of his ankle meant that it went scuttling away from him rather than into range of the blade.
Making a mental note of his suggestion, America let Taym lead the way. It was a definite change from the first time she'd met him in person, though he still managed that air of irritably dragging his heels. It was a trait she enjoyed, all said.
Fiona, at least, had an admirer in the redhead if not her own hunter. The weapon seemed to grow lovelier every time America got a chance to see her summoned, and watching Taym wield her was always a treat. There was a quiet grace in it, though perhaps not now as he fended off the assault of a literal ankle-biter.
The sight had her her shoulders shaking slightly, amused enough not to take offense at the suggestion. As if she hadn't been learning to fight these things in crumbling old houses for the past six months. Summoning Stryker, America lifted the golden, glowing ball of wings and runes and neatly bopped the stray shadowling on its head.
He shot her a look. As always there was a twinge of genuine wounded feeling, and as usual it failed to surface from beneath the protective layer of sarcasm. "Don't call me that," he said. "I didn't wear a tie."
lizbot
Posted: Wed Jul 30, 2014 8:39 pm
"Mmmmm... I hope you wear one during your classes," America smiled appreciative at the thought and made a couple notes on the map. There were piled of boxes laying around but checking the revealed lots and lots of moldy piles that were likely once upon a time things, but that time had since passed. "Will you let me sit in on one?" The question held genuine interest.
Stacks of uncomfortable plastic chair sat in one corner and beside them, under a thick plastic cover, was an old movie projector. Giving it a thorough look over, the girl came to an obvious decision and lifted it up, ready to haul it upstairs.
He watched her, in a state of morose and half-paralyzed silence by the sudden reminder of what he'd accidentally agreed to do. The thought of America sitting in made his stomach lurch so much that he nearly forgot the silent vow he'd made to swallow his fear for the sake of handling everything so swiftly and competently that he'd get to shut Harrison out completely, and considered telling her that Cami was doing it, actually, and then talking the Sun hunter into it later.
"If you want," is what he said finally, toeing some more plastic aside and locating some more boxes, these metal and aside from being slightly rusted looking surprisingly intact. He gingerly pushed aside a lid. Film reels. For the projector. Naturally.
He didn't question her sudden desire to salvage. Instead he wordlessly acquiesced by scooping up a box, and contributing to the general filth by spitting out his cigarette butt and grinding it into the floor. "Nothing you don't already know going on though," he added, quietly hopeful that she'd change her mind. "And like hell I'm wearing a tie."
lizbot
lizbot rolled 1 10-sided dice:
9Total: 9 (1-10)
Posted: Wed Jul 30, 2014 11:40 pm
America noted the box appreciatively and hoped the projector worked. Now she was curious. Walking back down, she gave a thoughtful hum before answering, "I just like seeing you in your element."
Glancing back she beamed at him, pride suffusing the expression. She wanted to see him do the work he believed in. She wanted to see him do well.
Stepping back down, America consulted the clipboard one again. "So there's left, right, and straight ahead. Gonna hit the left first."
Left was a long hallway of rooms. The first few doors were locked, and after the third one, America was looking extremely tempted to just kick them in. Fortunately for the doors, the fourth one was open. Leaning carefully in, she began to scope out the room when a shadow slipped up from the wall and grasped her wrist and tried to drag her in.
The door slammed shut behind her, locking her in the room with a seething group of shadows and America rolled her eyes. Like either of them were going to panic at some cheap a** horror dramatics.
Stryker already swinging, she called out loudly, "Taym! I got company!"
It was as well for her that she'd immediately gone back to the clipboard, depriving him of an opportunity to make a laundry list of elements that were more his than standing in front of a sea of eyes and not losing his (still meager, but) breakfast.
He repaid her earlier favor neatly and dispassionately, with a nimble sweep through the shadowling-infested room right on her heels.
"Maybe," he suggested calmly as he dispatched the last tiny horror and felt around his pockets for another cigarette, "those other doors were all locked for reasons better than loss prevention. You OK?" he added.
"Better than," America chirruped brightly, looking all the better for the sudden, if not especially perilous, exertion. "I'm gonna have to ask Edith about the keys to this place. I'd have to break down all the doors just to see what's behind. Or..."
Pulling a bobby pin out of her hair, America began bending it into shape with obvious intent.
Rather than a sign for caution, locked doors were taken as a sort of challenge. They were an I dare you to just try sort of gauntlet to a girl who delighted in ferreting out the secrets.
As she worked, America offered, "I heard they used to do orientations for newbies, I bet I could get videos of them if you wanted to see how they used to go about it."
