Sleuth Home - Message Boards - Role Playing Stage

Jan-9-2013 07:52

(Missed this space. Maybe we can revive it. I sure hope so. Not a great start, but should anyone join, I'd be really happy.)

It had been a long run.
Travelling all over the world to chase after Lazarus Metzger had been tired.
All she wanted now was to sleep.
As the young woman entered the small apartment building, she laughed quietly to herself.
One more time, she repeated her favourite sentence.
"Reformed burglars never sleep, dear."
Locking the door behind her, Elizabeth March - at least that was how she was known at the moment - got rid of her shoes and took a deep sigh.
Fixing herself a drink, she walked up to her desk. Pieces of paper were there, just like she had left them... right?
"Whatever they wanted, they didn't find it. Doesn't matter."
Nobody had broken in. So the only possible conclusion was that someone had paid - well - for her key. Not important. The money in the drawer was there, to the last penny. It wasn't cash they were after.
After a softly mumbled curse, she went in the bathroom for a long bath. And then, out back in the street.
The Tricky Mister was the place when you needed information - or maybe even bumping into an old friend.

Feb-5-2013 22:00

Grem's grip on her drink tightens. She forgets to swallow and the drink burns her throat. Several coughs erupt from her throat following the awkward swallow.

'A shape shifter?!' The thought races across her mind. Surely she is kidding. Grem is well aware that she once did not believe in the myth of the vampires, that is until she became one. If this supernatural race is able to exist...surely can the other races...But why would she choose to disguise herself among mortals?

Grem realizes that she has not responded to Lawlietine, a slightly awkward silence hangs between them. Time to wrap up that thought.

"And I am Grem. Moonlighting as a vigilante...so I suppose you can say I am in a way a investigator. "

She snaps back to her surrounding, taking in the smell of vomit creeping from the dingy restrooms as well as the glass against glass from the people around her.

Grem's voice drops to a hush whisper. "You would be wise to not announce that so loudly and in this place."

This was a mystery, who is this charming Lawliettine?

Feb-6-2013 04:08

Lawliettine's smile froze on her face as she got a reaction quite different from the usual dismissive snort or forced giggle. Grem, the beautiful newcomer, hadn't seemed to take the revelation jokingly. What kind of person believed in the myth of shapeshifters? Surely not the average person who refused to accept the existence of other beings.

Not sure of whether to be wary or excited, Lawliettine decided to test the waters a bit more.

"Nobody here would believe me," she said, with a conspiratorial wink. "They'd just dismiss me as a mad drunk."

Before she could offer Grem a refill of her glass, they were interrupted as a short balding man abruptly jumped in between them, nearly sprawled across the bar counter.

"You there," he panted, pointing at the bartender. "Santanelli sent me. You got something she wants?"

What followed was a rather weird session of the bartender playing dumb much to the man's annoyance, and then springing him with questions about mystery authors which he took to answering, with the practised air of someone who does this sort of thing all the time.

The man scratched his bald patch as he snatched the small envelope given him by the bartender, and was about to race out the door once again, nearly tripping over an empty glass on the floor.

"Careful, buddy" Lawliettine called out. "Don't be in such a hurry."

The man half turned, "Oh yeah? And what do YOU know of being in a hurry? Are you the city's mob boss?"

Lawliettine giggled. "I could be if I wanted to."

The man snorted, obviously not understanding the hidden meaning, and ran out of the bar.

Lawliettine sighed and turned back to Grem.

"Sorry about the interruption. Care for a refill?"

Just then, there were gunshots outside the bar.

Feb-6-2013 17:04

Captain Dave Adams, MD, paused just outside of the Tricky Mister and looked around. It was early evening, and he was exhausted. It had been an incredibly long day. He'd lost two patients earlier, one to massive blood loss and one to extreme shock, he'd gone through a boatload of paperwork with Lou to try and get supplies on their way to England (not his most favorite of chores), and to top it all off, he'd received a small yellow envelope in his in-box at the end of the day. He didn't have to open it to know he'd been recalled to active duty. Wahoo. He'd been drafted. Again. Breit was going to just LLOOOVVVEEE this one. He sighed, swallowing heavily. He reallly needed a drink.

He stepped off the curb, to see a squat, flabby man with a barely-there comb-over come out the door of the bar. He instantly spotted something diagonally to Dave's left, pulled out a gun, yelled, "YER DEAD, CATHERINE BREIT! YER FINISHED!," and fired two shots. Dave ducked, reached for his gun in his shoulder holster, and looked to see who the madman was firing at. In shock, he saw it was a familiar face, Elizabeth March. He didn't bother to ask what was going on, he simply aimed at the fat man, and fired twice before the other man could shoot again.

The man crumpled to the street as he screamed in pain. Dave ran towards him, kicking away his gun, then turned and grabbed ahold of Liz as she charged at the man, knife ready to plunge into his chest.

"Whoa, Liz! It's okay. He's down. He's not gonna hurt you now." He yanked her back again when she tried to attack the man again. "Easy, there."

She screamed a stream of invectives at the man on the ground, ending with a barrage of Portuguese, which Dave vaguely translated in his mind, but didn’t bother trying to understand. Dave winced at the last epithet; he hadn't heard words come out of Breit's mouth like that in years. He patted her shoulder comfortingly. "It's okay, Liz. You're okay."

Feb-6-2013 17:12

She promptly turned on him. "And YOU!" She raised her fist, knife at the ready. "Don'tchyou give me that, 'It's okay, baby, stuff!' That idiota SHOT at me, per Dios!"

Dave backed up and held up his hands placatingly, seeing the two armed Navy Shore Patrol guards come up from the street behind her, guns out and aimed at her. "Okay, okay, Liz. I was wrong. But it's over now. Can you put the knife away, please?" He smiled disarmingly.

She glared at him, then at the man cowering in fear and pain on the sidewalk. "Vhy? Vhy should I?"

Dave nodded at the two Navy ensigns behind her back, "Because these guys are going to take care of your shooter. They'll find out why he was after you, and they'll let me know. And then I'll tell you. Okay? Will that work?"

Elizabeth seemed to be coming down from her rage, and seemed to be having a bit of trouble thinking. After a couple seconds, she nodded slowly, "Si, yes. That is, how you say, okay."

Dave lowered his hands, gesturing to one to the Ensigns to deal with the wounded man, and held out the other to Liz. "Will you put your knife away for now, please?" He smiled at her, careful not to anger her again.

Elizabeth considered this for a moment, then the knife disappeared back under her coat. "Si," she replied.

Dave slowly lowered his hands and breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you for that, Signorina." Reholstering his gun, he walked calmly towards her, and gestured towards the Tricky Mister, careful not to touch her this time. "Would you be willing to wait for me in the Mister? I'll only be a minute, I promise. Go ahead and order yourself a drink, and please tell Cyrus I'd like a double Bourbon, both on my tab, thanks." He saw her eyes narrow at that, and smiled inwardly, "I could really use a drink right about now, how about you?" At her slow nod, he replied, "And I'd never walk out of there alive if I let a lady pay for my drink, now could I?"

Feb-6-2013 17:49

At his steady smile and slow wink, she reluctantly grinned at that, "All right, si, you vin. I vill vait for tchou inside." And she turned and disappeared into the Tricky Mister.

No sooner had Liz stepped inside the bar than Dave stepped over to the sobbing invalid, temporarily forgotten until now, and hauled him to his feet. His tone turned from conciliatory to sharp instantly. "You! UP. NOW!" He took an Ensign's handcuffs, and cuffed the man's arms behind him, ignoring the man's cries about his arm and shoulder wounds. "What the HELL were you doing shooting at that woman for?" He asked grimly.

“That b***h's Catherine Breit, the head of the Circle of Light in Shanghai. Isabella Santanelli, the Dona of La Cosa Nostra, has a $10,000 bounty for anyone who offs her. D'you know how much that could buy me?" The guy was practically salivating at the thought, his pain temporarily forgotten.

Dave sighed and shook his head to himself. Liz had just had a closer call than she knew. He pushed the pudgy felon against the wall of the bar, searching him for other weapons. "You unbelievable moron! That woman's not Catherine Breit. She's also not Breit Katherine, though she bears a much more striking resemblance to her than she does to the Earthly Sponsor. I've met both of them, and you're way off track all round."

Feb-6-2013 17:52

Finding no more weapons, he pushed the villain towards the two Shore Patrolmen. "Take him down to Base HQ and hold him there. No phone call, no lawyer." At the man's blustery "You can’t do that!" Dave cuffed him on the back of his comb-over, and barked, "You have the right to remain silent. Use it!" He looked again at the two sailors, "He's charged with attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, firing a gun in a public place, and attempted murder of a federal officer. I'll be down in a little while to start the paperwork and the questioning. Till then, get four replacements up here, two outside the bar, and two on your regular patrol, and stay with this doofus 'til I come for him. That's all." He saluted them as they saluted back, let them take the prisoner away, rubbed his forehead wearily, paused to gather himself, then went into the bar.

Feb-6-2013 21:21

Grem downs her drink. Her enhanced speed makes her hand blur, it looks like a child had dipped their hand in pain and made a quick smear up and down. She turns away from Lawliettine as she responds to Grem’s inquiry. What in the world is a shape shifter doing here? The only thing she could turn into is a bat and only a bat, is it even possible to shift to more than one? This Lawliettine does not seem like the type that would joke casually; she looked too sophisticated to be that kind of person. I could be wrong…

Grem wonders about what her reply to that would be, and finally decides on what she needs to say. Just as she opens her mouth, a putrid smelling man had wedged his way in between them. She wrinkles her face into a frown, although she wasn’t uncomfortable with getting close and personal to get information…this wasn’t the case and it just makes her plain uneasy.

The man clearly has some business to get done. The name ‘Santanelli’ triggers Grem to focus on what this man was saying.

‘Information, hmm? ‘ It had taken her some time to build up trust with La Cosa Nostra. Isabella knows Grem no longer walksthe world with a heartbeat, and she does not care. Business is business no matter what shape or form it comes in. Besides, Isabella knows that having a little supernatural protection here and there hurts nobody. Grem is amused by the usually routine of the bartender playing dumb and asking questions about his favorite mystery authors. The merchants in this town are the amusing sort and all seem to enjoy reading quite a bit. She wishes that she could answer these questions instead of bribing them…

The Q & A did not last longer than 3 minutes. The man starts to leave; he wobbles as his balance is broken by an empty glass. Lawliettine’s comment furthers her frown. She IS serious. Lawliettine turns to Grem and offers for a drink refill. Oh…Grem is definitely going to need one, encountering a shape shifter is an incredible shock.

Feb-6-2013 21:21

Why? Firstly because of their existence. Secondly because although her group of vampires did not use their supernatural abilities for evil (not often anyway), there are other vampires that do. She does not know what type of person Lawliettine is. Grem nods her head for the refill.

As the bullets escaped their barrels the scent of smoke is strong; as the bullets missed their targets shouting is heard. In response to the imminent danger heard from outside, Grem’s fangs appear as well as an angry growl. It became her nature now whenever a threat comes to her attention.

Feb-6-2013 21:59

Grem became a blur as she rushes outside to confront the situation. She stands two feet away from the doorway, baring her fangs and ready to move. But, the situation was already over when she got there. All she could see is a man in fetal position nursing his knee as it leaked crimson onto the streets of New York. Her fangs retracted slowly, but she was not ready to return to Lawliettine just yet.

The woman started screaming in a language she did not recognize. It wasn’t hard to figure out that it was similar enough to Spanish, but not quite. Whatever she is screaming, from the tone it wasn’t anything nice. She turned to get a better look at the woman. To Grem’s surprise it is Elizabeth March. Grem had worked with Elizabeth in the past with some cases, as she has no vampire connections in New York. Last she heard, Elizabeth was chasing after Lazarus Metzger. She would have to ask how that went, but not right at this moment.

There is another man, Grem assumes that he is the one that shot the man rocking on the street. He looks like he had seen the world and that he had grown up faster than he had wanted. On him she picks up the scent that is sterile, a sickening chemical clean. Though faint, she catches the scent of latex. What type of man smells of chemicals, rubber, and conceals a gun?

Elizabeth speaks her broken English at the man while brandishing her knife. ‘I don’t remember the last time she was this mad. Oof, I don’t want to stay for this.’ Grem slowly returns to the bar. She needs another drink, preferably stiffer than the last.

Feb-8-2013 01:17

Lawliettine nearly spilled her whisky at the suddenness of it all. No it wasn't the gunshots, she got shot at all the time while solving cases. No, it wasn't the yelling and cursing in different languages, she'd had killers and suspects call her worse names. No it wasn't the fierce factional rivalry, that was part and parcel of being a detective.

Neither was it the sight of Dave and Elizabeth, who respectively looked exhausted and furious. Solid detectives were resilient and could overcome even the most sudden of shocks. Well, usually.

It was the fleeting flash of Grem's fangs as she'd reacted to the gunshots, and the astonishing speed with which she'd run for the door of the bar. Lawliettine returned to her drink and took a swig, regaining her composure in seconds. A curious smile found its way onto her face. A vampire, eh? And a beautiful one too. Now that wasn't something she encountered often in her line of work. No wonder she's felt a strange empathy with the newcomer.

As Grem returned looking paler than before, Lawliettine smiled and shrugged with apologetic helplessness.

"Oh you look like you definitely could do with a refill. But not the one you're having. A Bloody Mary, perhaps?"

This was followed by another small giggle. "I'm sorry, I know my puns are terrible."