Beautiful Decay: A Changeling: The Lost game

Game Master Communist

Jack shook his head, "You should be fine tomorrow, I would start worrying the day after that, Also, possibly, every day after that. It would be only right for the bastards to use the plot of Final Destination to come after us." He had class enough to ignore her unfortunate choice of words, or perhaps he missed the implication.

"You can be sure I'll be looking out for you, and I'll try to keep you from going stir crazy while I'm at it." In return for her awkward curtsy, he stood and bowed deeply. "I think I've caused you enough trouble for one night, so I suppose so," He added, hoping to conceal his worry over the fact that her number hadn't changed. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was sending her to her death.

Out of curiosity, what might Jack know about Changeling and especially Winter hangouts?

"Yeah I thought as much. Don't worry about it and just take care of yourself man. Do you have somewhere to sleep tonight? If not I could recommend a place, they might even pay you for it." he offers with a smile. He shakes his head when the man asks so politely if Leon wants to bear him.

"Nah, I'm not that kind of crook." he says with a grin. If the man seems interested in his offer he'll give him the address for Greg's business and let him go, heading back to his car. He looks the thing over, but apart from the fresh crack in the screen the damage seems minimal.

"Well, we know something else about the numbers now. That's worse another dent and a few minutes I think." he hops back into the driver's seat and starts the car, waiting for Morris to get in.

Not really sure how a sleep clinic works, would what Leon suggested above be right? Especially if the patients are having their dreams siphoned off? :p

Once the young Lost is in, he makes his way around the Market, looking for some of the less popular merchants. One he finds one that looks somewhat promising, he approaches and tries to smile.

"So, what do you have for sale?

Morris hops back in the car without hesitation "Harry's not a concern right now, though I can probably find him if you want. Though I don't see why you gotta make promises you probably can't keep. Whatever bro. I need that drink." He surveyed the damage. "Old guy did a number on this thing. Hope we don't get stopped.

"It never hurts to keep your options open, but you're right, I'm not worried about it. As to why, well... now we know the numbers can change." he pauses in the act of readying to pull out and glances at his hand to reassure himself it hasn't changed. He pulls out then, driving the rest of the way to the bar, assuming nothing further untoward happens. "Eh, it's detroit. The cops have better things to do. Or not do more likely."

@Jusuf
Can I have a perception roll from you please?

'Jack' sets to work searching, tapping doors and gateways, arches... anything that could be interpreted as an entrance. There seem to be one or two entrances to the Hedge from here, but judging from the amount of trash and grime around the entrances of both nobody's been here recently.

Almost by accident you find yourself turned around in what appears to be the courtyard to an apartment complex you'd walked through not five minutes ago. Off to the side was a fenced off garden, but where the gate was you can now see a glowing portal, a eclectic mix of sky visible within.

An active entrance. Someone passed through this door moments ago.

@Jef

The tent you choose belongs to a small female goblin, apparently quite new in the place judging from what paperwork she has on display. As a customer approaches she licks her lips nervously, and then, disturbingly, her eyelids.

"Oh, a bit of this, some of that. Love potions, lust potions, like potions. Orphans, fresh or recycled. A wide array of Goblin fruits. Hedge garments, hedge weapons,and cold iron.

Her tongue slithers out of her mouth, tasting the air. "But for you, my city friend... it will not be cheap. But cheapest you'll find, I bet."

@Leon and Morris
You actually pay the sleep clinics. Patients are assessed to see if they do unusual things while they sleep, like temporarily halting their breathing. It works very well for Lost: You get money and dreams! But with your connection to Greg, you could get a place to stay easily.

The dent of the front of the car doesn't look too bad. For an old guy he didn't make much of a dent at all. Speaking of which, he's disappeared across the road and into a supermarket.

Huskystrike bar is a pretty quiet Changeling gathering place, open 24/7. There are enough hipsters who appear human that open display of changeling abilities isn't allowed, but 9/10 people in their are members of the Lost.

The barkeeper Lance gives you a nod as you enter, and you draw a few gazes from the lost who give the quick once-over your mien. There are a crowd of Summer folk gathered around one table drinking heavily. Some have been doing that since they fell out of power. There's a pair of winter guys in the corner, fiddling with a radio. Otherwise it's full of lone drinkers at this time of day.

@Amy and Terrence

With the last few keystrokes you put together your piece, and sit back to reflect on it. Even gloomy winters would have to admit it was a nice piece of work.

About a minute later you can see someone take a furtive poke at the security, some kid next door with too much time on his hands. Being little more than a script kiddie, he doesn't get far at all.

Other than that, you're all good! That didn't take nearly so long as you expected; you could probably get something else done today, if you fancy it. Or you could sit back and enjoy your wonderful food, and complain about how life is suffering.

@Jack

Winter hideouts aren't too commonly known at all. Most winters go to the meetings and work from there. Knowing someone's private hideout is rare. The Ratcave is the most permanent hideout, guarded zealously against the other courts. More prominent members tend to avoid it though, because while it's probably their most defensible place, it's also the only one most other courts know about. That said, there are more hideouts, if you had a way of asking others more in the know about the Winter Court.

Otherwise Huskystrike bar is a popular Lost hideout. (hint, hint)

Eliza shrugs again, and turns to leave. "Think nothing of it. It's good to know somebody has an eye out for me, at least. I'll see you round, Scales." Her immediate sorrow seems to have gone, though perhaps replaced by some sort of tension.

By perception, do you mean the default Wits/Composure, or something more like Wits/Investigation; or, given that this deals with the supernatural, Wits/Occult?
Wits/Composure: 4d10 ⇒ (6, 9, 5, 1) = 21
Wits/Investigation: 3d10 ⇒ (7, 3, 9) = 19
Wits/Occult: 7d10 ⇒ (3, 6, 2, 7, 1, 1, 2) = 22
Wow! Against probability, I get better rolls on the lower pools. One success unless it's Wits/Occult.

Well, that's never a good thing... Jusuf examines the Hedgegate carefully & cautiously before committing to stepping across.

Regular Wits/Composure, luckily enough. Ah, and kenning detects supernatural forces at work.

The gate itself seems to be the regular garden's iron fencing,now lined with vines. Inside it seems to be a long straight path, the thorns draped in close along actual hedges like barbed wire. Towards the end of the gravel road the path forks, spilling left and right.

Jusuf's perception picks up the faint sound of gravel moving on the left path, but whatever lies on that road is out of sight for now.

"Aw damn these guys. I really coulda used a break from the sharks. Gotta be something in this place that keeps drawing 'em." He mutters as he surveys the other customers. "Whatever. I'll make do." He slumps over with his head down and sits on a stool, lifting his skull to call out to the bartender. "Lance, get me a beer and a shot. God knows I could use it."

"The booze I would assume." he observes dryly "Same for me, double the shots though." he adds to Morris' order, leaning with his back against the bar and surveying the other inhabitants. "Where do you think we should head next? Or do you want to meet back here in an hour or so?" he asks his friend.

Amy's smile continues. "We do make a decent team. I am carrying his ass, though. Only when I miss something, which is barely ever, is he truly useful... Well... He is good company, too... She finally starts to come down. She scratches the back of her head and laughs nervously. "What've you been up to, Parker?"

Huskystrike Bar it is then.

After saying goodbye to Eliza, hopefully not for the last time, Jack headed over to the Huskystrike Bar, in hopes that it would lead him closer to his goal. When he made his way through the door, he paused for a moment, taking it all in.

Hmm, I suppose I'll let circumstances dictate whether I head over to the Winters, or the two jokers at the bar.

Eyes narrowing, 'Jack' steps back from the Hedgegate, pulls out his watch & starts timing. Once it finally re-closes, he reminds himself how long it took & heads for the closest convenience store. Once there, he will purchase a disposable camera which he will take back to the alleyway & take a number of photographs of the area before figuring out how to get to the next closest murder scene.

"Well I was going to head to the market. Figure if anybody's been trading human organs for stuff and what's with the prices being jacked up." He took a drink and paused for a second. "...something still don't feel right here you know. I mean like, Summer building up, public killings, market prices being jacked up. This is all the sorta stuff that would piss off any fancy winter high up on its own you know. And those numbers resetting without the wild hunt marching through. Only odd one out is that new order coming through." He chugs his beer some until it's about half full. His sockets twisted into a glare. "I don't like being played Leon. I don't know much about dreams, but I know enough about politics to know it never hurts to be at least a little paranoid. I'm thinking what we do is we keep tabs on that bum from before and focus on the order, while narrowing down who hired us. "

Likely whereabouts of 'Knights of Silence(streetwise): 6d10 ⇒ (9, 9, 7, 8, 2, 10) = 45
explosions: 1d10 ⇒ 9
Likely identity of mystery boss(politics): 8d10 ⇒ (4, 10, 6, 7, 6, 9, 10, 9) = 61
explosions: 2d10 ⇒ (4, 5) = 9

5 sux and 4 sux

"Why so expensive for the city folk? It sounds like somehow we've made the Market mad."
Jef tries to remain passive behind the mask and not let his curiosity get the better of him as he looks at the various wares.

Nice rolls Morris :)

"Ahh, good thinking. I wasn't too concerned about the price hike, but the organ trade is a good point. Not really sure what the two would have in common though..." he muses, he downs both shots in quick succession when they arrive, before settling back with his drink.

"What do you mean about the wild hunt?" he asks, not following Morris' logic on that one. "The bum we just rescued? A bit late for that isn't it? He's probably long gone. I could try and find out about the two that were after him if you wanted me to?" once again he wasn't sure what Morris' interest was, but he was happy to help if he could. "I was gonna head out and talk to some of the dealers I know, see what they've heard about the murders, might be able to tell us something that's not public knowledge or in the file."

@Jef

The goblin bows her head briefly, making an unusual facial expression; you're not sure it translates well into human. Pushing forward a necklace, she looks around, making sure nobody else is looking.

"I am lowly vendor, but this is what I have been told. My understanding is that... how would you put it... like a smoker trying to get insurance. Much bigger risk for insurer, so higher price. Goblin Contract is like that. City was always risky. More risky now, I am guessing. But I not know why."

@Jusuf

The hedgegate stays open for nine seconds more before disappearing. While all good movies dictates there would be some special effects to this, it just simply stops being a gate, for now at least. You get the camera and snap a few shots, raising a few eyebrows from a couple passing by, but what do they know about supernatural gates? Very little, you hope.

Assuming you don't want the murder scene half a block up, the next closest one is about twenty minutes by bus eastwards, or possibly a short trip through the hedge. One of these paths is full of weird and horrific creatures, and the other is the Hedge.

@Amy and Terrence

The single winter forum you know of (Which masquerades as a scrapbooking club, albeit poorly) suggests that the meeting will involve a discussion about the rising Summer issues, and possibly deal with this new group coming to town- though exactly who they are remains a little vague.

As you posit over this bit of news however, Terrence gets an email. REDKING, an old contact of yours, wants to swing around and talk to you about a job offer.

Jef nods and smiles. "I appreciate it. How much do I owe you?" He points to the necklace, knowing the goblin will understand the need to keep up appearances. "And what is it?"

@Jef

The Goblin rubs her hands together eagerly in a universally understood symbol.

"This is the finest amulet. It glows brightly when in the presence of poison! But also bananas. Downside pretty bad. I sell it to you for a song." Being the Markets, she probably means this literally.

@Those in the Huskystrike bar

Morris recalls what he knows about the knighthood of utmost silence. They are winter folk who specialise in helping the Lost stay lost, hiding them away for none to find. Their mien makes them easy to find- their mouths are in one way or another invisible. They don't tend to play at politics either.

Some of them have passed through the freehold in your memory; three, to be precise. They do travel to other freeholds to conduct their work frequently, but the 'Quiet Marshal', the leader of the hub, is known to you. Diego Graves is the name he goes by. Rumours from another Margrave suggested at the time they kept to the Arcade Farmhouse Inn, a very discrete hotel located on the very outskirts of town. If they don't own that place, they were on very good terms wih the owners.

As for who the boss could be, it's somebody who has power, and doesn't want to be seen using it. It is a very typical plot for Winter courtiers, actually. Lord Stern does not want to be seen openly having to deal with problems, and this could be his way of dealing with it. Similarly lady Yuki acting on her own could be questionable. Although Isabelle Doucet, former Queen of Summer could have called it from the outside, to arrive and take credit for it later. On reflection, Changeling politics are quite Byzantine.

Lance pours the shots with consumate ease, then pulls a trio of beers, raising the last one to the newly entered Jake Marshall in question.

Jake for his part recognizes and is recognized by the pair of winters in the corner: Snowflakes and Frosty, the pair who run Radio Free Fae. Apparently captured by the same Keeper, Frosty's mien is a man made out of snow, white and soft to the touch. Snowflakes is made of ice, sharp and angular, cold. Why their names aren't switched is a matter of many drunken conversations.

They'd be good for info, sure, but is that worth having your ears chewed off?

On an unrelated note, Morris, Jack and Leon, please make perception checks at a difficulty of -2. (That is, two dice less in your pool)

One of these paths is full of weird and horrific creatures, and the other is the Hedge.

.

Sighing to himself, 'Jack' makes his way to the busstop, the camera carefully tucked into his inner coat pocket.

I should really consider getting a car...

That's Wits+Composure for Percepion, right?
Wits+Composure-2: 3d10 ⇒ (10, 3, 5) = 18
Explosion: 1d10 ⇒ 5
Well only the one success.

Leon glances at Lance as he pours a third beer, before turning to look over his shoulder. He smiles and waves for uh... Jack? to come over, but doesn't make a fuss if he chooses to sit with the winters, though he does question his choice of company.

Wits+Composure-2: 3d10 ⇒ (1, 2, 8) = 11
One for me too.

Jack headed over to the others, and accepted the shot with a confused look. He didn't question it for long however, and drained it in one gulp.

"I have a lead on the mystery employer, but I'm not sure if I can follow it up before tomorrow. Any news from you? He said, casting his gaze between Leon and Morris, and the two pirate radio enthusiasts. He wondered if they might be of help. He also wondered if he would be branded a rabble rouser just for talking to them.

"Well, we learned that the numbers can change. Saw some guy with a 0 being harrassed, we intervened and it changed back to a 9. We were just discussing our avenue of attack." he reponds as Jack joins them. "Friends of yours?" he asks as Jack glances at the other winters.

"What? How 'harassed are we talking here? Were they going to kill him?" The worry was clear on his face. It made it all the more meaningful that Eliza's number hadn't changed when he warned her about it. By telling her to hole up, had he just created the situation that would kill her? "Shit! he added, apparently assuming that Leon would say yes.

It was all Jack could do to not charge out of the place then and there. He would certainly need to move her. His hollow would surely be safe, he didn't think anyone in the Frehold knew it existed, but he didn't want to give himself away like that, not if he could help it.

He managed to compose himself enough to try and fit in, even faking a smile as though Leon had made a joke when he asked about the other Winters. He gave a subdued gesture towards each of them in turn, and named them, "Snowflakes and Frosty, the sort of Winters you would like, He said to Morris. "They have their own pirate radio thing where they talk crap about the leadership. They're all right."

"Naw, just beat the sh*t out of him for not paying up or whatever. A protection racket." Morris wrinkled his nose and continued to speak but lowered his voice into a whisper. "I know who those two bums are. I also got 3 guesses on the mystery boss. Way I see it, it's either Stern, Yuki, or...and this one's kind of a stretch, the former Queen Isabell Doucet. Either way I'm being played and that's some sh*t I don't like. I figure maybe I could go talk to some of them 'Knights of Silence' and get some of this mess straightened out, but that means dealing with more sharks." He groaned and resumed drinking.

"I got the feeling it might lead that way. Perhaps that was the zero talking though..." he observes, giving Jack a puzzled look at his agitated reaction. "You okay? What's the matter?" he asks, genuinely concerned. Unless he was trying to get something out of you Leon's behavior was usually genuine.

"Oh, I love those guys!" he says, having to restrain himself from turning in their direction. "Well, like you said, for Winters anyway." he adds with a grin to take the sting out of his words.

"Huh, so the real big bosses. Well makes sense they'd be interested in what's going on." he says with a shrug. He never got why Morris go so worked up about this stuff.

Jack shook his head, not really wanting to say, then he apparently changed his mind and replied, "I met a friend earlier, she had a three. I told her enough that she ought to watch her back, actually, I think I might have used the phrase 'hole up somewhere with a gun pointed at the door'. When we parted ways, her number was still three, so whatever it is that gets her, still does."

Jack watched Snowflakes and Frosty as he spoke, saying "They might be a useful source if you want to try. The only problem is, you and everyone you've exchanged words with will probably become famous tomorrow morning."

Perception: 4d10 ⇒ (4, 9, 9, 6) = 28

"Yeah I don't think I'll be talking to those two. Leon, you're free to try, but don't mention my name." He said, glancing at the two radio guys briefly. Morris took his shot and turned to Jack as he just recalled something important. "Oh, one more thing about the Knighthood. They're Winters. Maybe it'd be best if one of their own talked to them or came along to deal with 'em. As for your friend, I dunno, guess we should keep an eye on her."

The beast man sings a little ditty, some pop song that he was never too big a fan of, hoping that'll pay for the piece. Once the transaction is done, he makes his way back to the entrance, smiling at the guard who let him in.

"The answer to your riddle is darkness."

"Hmm, since my fellow courtiers seem to have vanished, I suppose that falls to me then, not that I'd really want to rely on either of them talking to strangers. Any idea where to find these guys?"

When Morris offered to look out for Eliza, Jack was surprised, he wondered if his initial view of the darkling had been wrong, of if perhaps there were more layers to him than was immediately apparent. "Thanks," He said, smiling graciously. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Ahhh... well we still have no idea how it really works. The guy we rescued was in imminent danger. Maybe it waits until the chance has been removed completely?" he offers, trying to cheer jack up. He nods at Morris' offer. "Yeah, we've still got three days before she gets into trouble. We've got time to poke around and see if we can't change it."

"So... it sounds like you guys are going to check out the knights. I'll go have a chat with the radio personalities and some of my own contacts and we meet back here later. Morris has my number, but if I don't hear from you guys I'll be back here for dinner." He looks between the two others to see if they find the idea amenable.

In the bar

Associated with the radio free Fae doesn't normally get one into trouble with the higher ups, unless whatever you say is directly against them. Most changelings appreciate helpful news of any sort, and the pair have goodwill in pretty much every court.

In the corner of his eye Morris catches a glimpse of the summers doing something strange, there's a handshaking and a lifting of glasses, but with some degree of care there's a single note being passed around that table. As each Summer courtier reads it, they look firstly to the radio presenters, and then to the three of you seated at the bar. Their faces darken for a moment, literally in one case, but the quickly return to their heavy drinking. All three of you see them looking at you, only Morris sees the note.

@Amy/Terrence
The Winter meeting proper doesn't start until tomorrow evening, and the night after that is the entire freehold meeting. In other words, you have the evening to go explore, or possibly meet up with your own contacts outside.

REDKING offers to swing by your place later with a package if you want it, and is otherwise silent on the job.

For Jusuf

As you approach the next murder scene, you have to pull out your map and double-check that you're in the right place. There's no tape, no sirens, no sign of the police at all. A mailman is driving down the narrow street delivering letters, and spares the house where the murder apparently took place nothing more than a fleeting glance.

It's a small home, wall to wall with the house next door but with a hedged garden out the front. The wire gate is closed at the front, but it's the sort you can reach through and undo without any difficulties. One of the lights is on in one of the front rooms. But this is certainly what the map indicates is the right place.

For Jef

The goblin winces loudly as she receives her payment, but pushes over the amulet nonetheless. "Take care, fuzzy man. City not safe." she says in what could be the understatement of the century even in a normal week.

The ogre at the front frowns as he recieves the answer. "Darkness...? But that doesn't kill anything. Hmm. I will think that over. But that will be good for entrance fee. See you later, mistah."

Making your way out into the real world once more, you see it has turned into late afternoon. Your phone buzzes with a text from Amy and Terrence about their online creation. Where to next?

How does 'Jack' know this is the Murder scene?

I really don't trust this...

'Jack' stands, just stands, in front of the gate for several seconds before reaching in & flicking open the latch. He waits another several seconds afterwards before stepping into the yard.

Jack lazily scanned the crowd, wondering if he should talk to the RFF guys. Well, he wasn't wondering if he should so much as what it would cost him. Somewhere in his ponderings he noticed that the summer courtiers watching him. That gave him the motivation to act. He told Leon and Morris that he was going to look into the frat, motioning toward the Summers.

He approached the table where Frosty and Snowflakes sat and motioned toward an empty seat, a silent request to join them. "You and I seem to be near the top of the minds of the heavy drinkers." He said, nodding in the direction of the Summer Courtiers.

"I'll take that as a yes." he observes as Jack leaves their table. "Alright, see ya later Morris." he says, standing and popping his neck. He was probably over the limit--not to mention drinking under aged--but three drinks wasn't that bad. He'd managed worse before. He casts his gaze in the summer's direction as he turns to leave, slaps a few notes on the bar and heads out to hop in his car. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel he takes a few moments to consider his options, before starting the ignition and taking off, whistling as he heads for another, somewhat more dingy bar.

A while later he pulls up in front of a plain looking building with no sign. It definitely looks like a bar, but when the name seems to change every other week changing the sign gets prohibitive. He strolls in, takes a seat in his usual booth, and then simply waits, ordering another drink when the waitress approaches, giving her a warm smile and a pat on the bottom. Then he simply waits, nursing his ale in the usual ritual. I should probably head into work at some point... he muses idly.

"Hey gimme another shot guy." said Morris as he pretended to ignore the summers and stayed put. He rapped his fingers on the counter. He sensed something was up but chose to not get involved not just yet. Nevertheless, he slipped a pair of brass knuckles into his left hand underneath the counter. He kept it close just in case.

After the events in this bar and Jusuf's discovery, it'll just about be a day, unless you really want to start a drunken brawl or what have you. Think about your harvesting of glamour. Leon for example, would head into work to harvest.

@ The bar

One of the Summers steps over to Morris, holding an old-time flagon is his talon. Except for those long black talons and pointed ears, he looks almost human. His mantle mustn't be very strong.

"You're not with that Winter a*!#*$*~, are you? [b] he drawls, signalling for another drink. "I can tell you're one of those guys from the edge of town, but let me give you a warning. Winter won't be in power forever. You should stay playing hide and seek on the edges and come join a real court." [/b]

Frosty and Snowflakes raised their drinks to the newcomer, and chuckled. "They're probably weighing up if they can give us a beating in the alleyway. We've been trying to keep quiet on it, but Summer has been getting very aggressive in the last few days. Nothing fatal, but they've been testing their weight, pushing poor changelings like us around."
This was from Frosty, as Snowflakes goes on.
"What's news with you anyway? Jack, right...? Anything juicy for us?

Jusuf saw the map on the table, marked out by Jeremiah. Whether you grabbed a copy or not is up to you, but you would have a good memory of where they are.

'Jack's paranoia rises by the moment as absolutely nothing happens. From next door the sound of classical music starts to wash over the streets, accompanied by some young maestro playing his own piano.

'Jack' goes to the door, to find that not only is it unlocked, but also slightly ajar. Against all better judgement he pushes it open and goes into the house. A narrow hallway, a dining room to the left, and a kitchen in front. The dining room is spotless, a place set for one; but on the table sits an unused roll of police tape. The kitchen is a different story. The linoleum floor is stained with blood, dried now. Cans, pots and cutlery is strewn about the place, not just on the floor, but over the various shelves and even stuck into the wall. Covered by a single black sheet bent over the kitchen table seems to be the body. Knowing how the victim died, Jack is relieved he can't see too much more. Around her head lies a halo of spoons, delicately placed end to end.

But these details ignore the biggest one. A changeling sits on a bench, tapping his feet against the table in time to the music. He reminds you of a snake, but his hair flows in a way you'd attribute to a water elemental. Up his arms are dark black scales, and his eyes are small, suspicious. As he takes a deep breath you can see not only a forked tongue, but long pointed teeth.

He makes no movement, but a quick glance lets you know he's seen you.

I'll wait a day or so here before I continue on with this, if Jack wants in.