Waiting For Rain IC: Spring Slowly Comes

[Thanqol]

There was a distinct reaction on the cop's face behind the mirrored shades. A twitch of the nose and a reflexive shrinking back of the shoulders; an immediately defeated posture. The attitude had changed into 'let's just get this over with'.

"Yeah, right, kid. Look, do us all a favour and book a hotel or something next time, all right? People around these parts get nervous when a strange car shows up with a bunch of kids in it."

[the_druid_droid]

Jon’s expression brightened just a bit as he sensed the cop giving in; his approach actually seemed to be working. “I definitely will, Officer. Staying here wasn’t my best idea, but it was getting too late to drive. We’ll get out of people’s hair as soon as we can.” Which will be about three seconds after you let us go, he added mentally.

[Thanqol]

"Right. Don't let me see you getting in trouble here again," said the cop, shoving his notepad in a back pocket and walking away. He gave a thumbs up to a dishevelled old lady who was peering out of a trailer and she vanished back inside.

[BlasTech]

A few moments after the policeman's head had vanished from the truck window, another face appeared with eyebrow raised.

"Mark Gottlieb?" Isabelle asked, a hint of humour in her voice.

[the_druid_droid]

“Yeah, yeah, I know... Look, let’s just get out of here before anything else happens.” The response was harsher than Jon had really intended, but he was suddenly feeling odd. On the one hand, he’d just talked down a police officer and managed to avoid having them all dragged off to county for grand theft auto, or worse. On the other, the lies he’d told bothered him; there had been a lot of truth to most of them, which made them easier to tell, but telling them had reminded him that he would see his family today, and would be expected explain his absence. Jon wondered if it would prove to be so effortless to lie to his parents, or to Jessica, and what it said about his new life if it was easy to deceive his family...

[BlasTech]

Isabelle cocked her head at the response, observing him with an air of a bird on a perch. She'd always had a bit of a knack at reading expressions and body language and could tell he was a bit conflicted about how things had just gone.

"Hey, don't fret so much." She said, as she opened the door and clambered back into the driver's seat. "If it's any consolation, you held it together pretty well there for a guy who was freaking out about his appearance last night, or did you forget you had those?" She finished, tapping a finger against her forehead.

[the_druid_droid]

Jon reached a hand up to his forehead, feeling the horns rough against his fingers. A shocked look slowly spread across his face as he spoke, “I completely forgot! I had just woken up when the cop knocked, and I got so distracted thinking about going to jail that I didn’t realize how weird I look...” The shock slowly changed to confusion. “So why didn’t he notice? Maybe he can’t see them?”

A thought had crossed Jon’s mind the previous night - why hadn’t he ever seen things like the giant, or Charlene, or even himself before? He had been too tired to give it more than a passing thought, but in the light of day it seemed likely that more of the Others’ magic was at work...

[BlasTech]

"No, I don't think he could." Isabelle agreed, a hopeful smile on her face. "It wasn't something he noticed but ignored, like he thought it was a costume. They just didn't register at all."

She let the silence hang for a moment, allowing the others to digest the implications. As lost, alone and disconnected as they'd been ... this information felt like a weight lifted from her shoulders. Maybe they wouldn't be hunted, chased out of town for their looks. Labelled as freaks by those they wanted so badly to see again.

"So" she asked the others, as she started the truck engine. "Any decisions yet on where to go now?"

[Deadly]

Charlene wasn't feeling too good about the whole situation either, but what else could they have done? Who would possibly believe the truth? She pondered the revelation that apparently the cop hadn't noticed Jon's unusual features. What did that mean?

She sat up and looked around the car. "What kind of identification do we have in this car, anyway? Is there a driver's license or something somewhere?"

[Thanqol]

A quick search of the car would reveal that the glove box was full of partially chewed human bones.

Suddenly talking their way out of that parking ticket seemed like an incredibly lucky break.

If the searchers had the stomach for it, there was also a decrepit old car registration made out to a Mr. Robert Cludge.

[Deadly]

"I..." Charlene stares at the grisly contents of the glove box. "I think our first priority should be dispose of those. Soon."

[the_druid_droid]

Jon’s features tightened just a bit as he pointed to a familiar dot on the map. “Take me to my place. I’ve got to go back today, and it might as well be now.”

Turning at Charlene’s question, he nodded and began to dig through the mess in the glove compartment, looking for ID. As papers and wrappers spilled to the floor, his fingers touched something hard, which he took for a flashlight. However, pulling the object out revealed that it was instead a bone, decorated with ragged bite marks and looking far too human for his tastes.

At the sight, Jon scowled in disgust and dropped the offending object, only to watch several more roll out to join it on the floor as the engine roared to life. A wave of nausea swam through him, mixed with a shuddering relief that the policeman had already walked off. Vaguely, he heard Charlene’s recommendation.

“Agreed, but we can’t do it now... If that cop is right, everyone around here is already watching us. Let’s just slowly pull out and drive to my house; we’ll figure it out once we’re out of this place.” Quickly Jon reached down and grabbed the bones, trying not to think about what he was doing as he shoved them back into the glove compartment and slammed the door, not bothering to clean up the trash that had fluttered to the floor. Afterward, he nervously wiped his hands on the ragged tail of his running jacket, trying to forget what he’d just seen.

[BlasTech]

Anger. Determination. Frustration. Disgust.

Those four emotions oscillated around inside Isabelle's mind as she silently guided the truck out of the RV park. Strangely, she wasn't so much disgusted at the grisily find as she was at the loss it represented. People who wouldn't get their chance at life. Was there reason behind it? Or were they just unlucky enough to cross paths with the wrong creature at night?

Disgust fuelled anger. Her hands gripped the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip. It was anger at the giant, but also at the world in general that this had been allowed to happen. Was it the giant's fault? Or was he a slave to impulses or insanity that had been visited upon him? Maybe both.

The line of thought gave way to determination, and subsequently frustration when she realised she didn't know what she should do. She had a goal; stop anyone else from dying to him. But how best to achieve that? Help him? Or help stop him?

She didn't have an answer yet, which meant her thoughts inevitably floated back to the glove compartment and started the process over again. By the time she turned into Jon's street, the good feeling she'd had before was almost gone. Instead her emotions felt taut ... stretched ... like she was in too moods on too many points of the emotional compass at once.

She slowed and pulled over, into a legal parking spot this time.

"Your house, your lead Jon. Do you want us to come with you?"

[the_druid_droid]

“I should probably go in alone at first. I, uh...” Jon paused, wondering if he should say what he was thinking. “I don’t really know how to explain why you’re here, if they ask” Regret clouded his features as he said the words. “To be honest, I’m not really sure how to explain myself, but I’ve got to try.”

There was a click as Jon opened the truck’s heavy door and stepped down to the pavement. The house stood across the street, a white two-story that looked similar to suburban homes all across the nation. It was where he had grown up, but any sense of homecoming or welcome was drowned out by the butterflies in his stomach. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the blank face of the house, its upper windows currently dark, hidden by thick curtains.

As Jon stood motionless by the truck, a gust of wind passed by, ruffling his hair and bringing his mind back to the present. The interruption seemed as good a sign as any, so he squared his shoulders and strode across the street and up the concrete walk to the door. His door.

A trembling finger rang the doorbell.

[Thanqol]

Michael Greene was having an off day.

He'd been having nightmares, nightmares of being chased by a terrible stag. His legs were weak, his stride out of practise, and whenever he turned the stag was right there, charging down at him, seeking to gore him with it's terrible horns. He fled over a bridge, he fled down a mountain, he hid behind a police officer. But still the stag came.

"Bad mood, hon?" said Joeline, smiling at him from across the table. "Mayor riding your case again?"

"I'm not his daughter's keeper. I didn't sign up for this to cover-up for a drunk." Greene grumbled.

"Aw, poor baby," Joeline said with a teasing smile, "Don't worry. Just think about how much experience you're going to have at government cover-ups by the end of this."

"Less black suits and more pleading phone calls than I was imagining," Greene laughed back.

The door rang.

"I'll get it," said Michael. "Finish those pancakes for me?"

"Sure thing, love," said Joeline, grabbing the plate.

Michael's head was hurting as he walked towards the door. His legs felt so weak. He felt so flabby, padded, comfortable. When he put his hand on the doorknob he stared at it for a second.

I've let myself go, he thought.

And then he opened the door.

And he came face to face with himself.

[BlasTech]

Isabelle tapped her fingers along the rim of the steering wheel. Since Jon's departure, the cabin of the cab had become almost unbearably silent. She tried to spend the time thinking about how to deal with the twin problems of unemployment and bones in the glove box, but worry over how Jon was going with his family and her pent up frustration prevented any significant progress on that front.

She caught sight of Charlene in the rear view mirror.

"I don't suppose there's anything to read back there is there?" She asked, out of a need to break the silence as much as the need to take her mind off her brooding.

[Deadly]

Charlene looked up from her own thoughts on much the same questions. She looked around the back for something to read, "I'm not sure,"

[the_druid_droid]

The face that greeted him was familiar. It was so familiar that for the space of a heartbeat, he didn’t react. Then the shock hit him.

Over the past day and a half, and then again over the past few hours, Jon had imagined all sorts of scenarios for his homecoming. In some, his family welcomed him back with open arms; in others the house was dark and deserted, and he found that everyone he loved had moved away or died. Never in his wildest imaginings had he expected anything like this - coming face to face with himself, even though the apparition couldn’t possibly be him! He was Michael Greene, or Jon Swift, or whatever the hell he was called now; he was certain of that, and he was just as certain that this stranger had no business in his house. The absurdity of it all made him feel suddenly like the butt of some insane joke.

For another heartbeat, Jon stood motionless on the doorstep while the thoughts washed over him and he tried to find his bearings. Then, all at once, his mind and body agreed on a course of action. He’d been cold and hungry, nearly arrested, and almost eaten alive; if this was a joke, he wasn’t laughing.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house? Where’s my family? Where’s Jessica?!” Jon was furious and suspicious and worried all at the same time, and his muscles tensed beneath the ragged tatters of his running outfit as he glared at his doppleganger.

[Thanqol]

Fight or flight? Flight.

Michael slammed the door shut in the monster's face, slamming the bolt into place. He grabbed the bookcase and knocked it over, wedging it between it and the door.

"Mike? What's wrong?" Joeline called.

"Call the police. Get upstairs with Jessica. Lock the door. Don't come down." Michael said, mind racing. Mr. Jeffers down the street had a had a hunting rifle in his shed...

He was more relieved than anything when he heard Joeline running up the stairs, dialing 9-1-1 on the handset. Michael clenched his teeth. If that thing came through here, he'd run out the back, vault the fence, head for the shed. He could visualise it in his mind so strongly it hurt.

[the_druid_droid]

The door slammed in his face, and Jon swore under his breath.

Oh no you don’t!

The front door was bolted; there was no question of that, since he had been able to hear it slam home through the wood. There might still be a chance at the back door though, if he ran...

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, than Jon took off as fast as his legs could carry him, around the side of the house and toward the back yard. As he ran, the feeling of absurdity hit him again: he was seriously considering breaking into his own house, for a total of two major crimes in as many days. This was definitely not how he had envisioned coming back to the mortal world.

[Thanqol]

Run!

As Michael ran out the back door, he saw the monster come around the corner. That thing was fast, so unnaturally fast, it made his mind reel.

He vaulted the fence and started to sprint. He could see the shed ahead. His stride was ungraceful and his breath was short, his muscles protested at running this fast with no warm-up. But he ignored the thoughts and pain, kept the tunnel vision, and ran from that terrible stag as fast as his legs could carry him.

[BlasTech]

"Found anything yet?" Isabelle asked, turning to help Charlene look. At this point, she'd even settle for an out of date newspaper.

[Thanqol]

On the topic of newspapers, there was one on the floor of the back seat, from yesterday. The headline, in big red letters, went:

POPE VLADAMIR MURDERED
Shooter claims he was possessed by the devil

The other headline articles were the growing death toll in Greece and that a new trade deal had been signed between India and China.

[I love geopolitics and news articles, so flip through to any topic or section and I'll give a detailed writeup]

[Deadly]

After a bit of searching Charlene fishes out the newspaper from off the floor and hands it to Isabelle. "I don't think the giant was much of a reader, I hope this will do"

[BlasTech]

"It'll do, thanks Charlene" Isabelle replied, taking the crinkled newspaper and settling back into her seat to read it. She immediately frowned at the headline article; pope Vladamir? What had happened to Pope Benedict?

She flipped to the main article, but in the process froze as she caught sight of the date in the header.

"Charlene?" She asked, her brain reeling again. She knew she'd been gone for a while, a few years maybe, but it hadn't been that long ... had it?

"What year do you think this is?"

[the_druid_droid]

When he rounded the corner of the house, Jon saw his double rush out the back door. He wanted to run into the house and search for his family, but somewhere down in his gut, Jon knew that this other Michael Greene was running to the shed for a reason. There was a rifle in there, and it didn’t take much imagination to figure out what was likely to happen if he got a hold of it.

Jon, for his part, had spent far too long surviving Hounds and Hunt to let some impostor with a gun finish him off, and with another burst of speed he changed course, pushing himself to get to the false-Michael before he could reach the shed.

OOC:

Spoiler

Show

Jon’s going to try to outrun him and tackle him, or similar and if necessary he’ll spend the Glamour for Tread of the Swift Hooves. Let me know if/what needs to be rolled to try and stop the fetch.

[Thanqol]

During his visit to Frankfurt, Germany, Pope Vladamir was fatally shot by a lone gunman. Mr Adam Heich stepped out of the crowd during the Holy Father's speech and fired two shots into the Pope's chest, killing him immediately. Heich then dropped to his knees, begging god for forgiveness, and attempted to turn the weapon on himself before he was subdued by security forces. A formal investigation is underway, and the Vatican has called for a day of mourning across the entire world.

Those were the facts. The speculation was rampant. Some commentators were calling it a sign of the end of days or society's moral decline. Some commentators were saying that faith could never die with the death of a man, and if it was the Devil that had caused Heich's deed then he had harmed his own cause. Everyone had an opinion, but no one had any answers.

[Thanqol]

When he rounded the corner of the house, Jon saw his double rush out the back door. He wanted to run into the house and search for his family, but somewhere down in his gut, Jon knew that this other Michael Greene was running to the shed for a reason. There was a rifle in there, and it didn’t take much imagination to figure out what was likely to happen if he got a hold of it.

Jon, for his part, had spent far too long surviving Hounds and Hunt to let some impostor with a gun finish him off, and with another burst of speed he changed course, pushing himself to get to the false-Michael before he could reach the shed.

OOC:

Spoiler

Show

Jon’s going to try to outrun him and tackle him, or similar and if necessary he’ll spend the Glamour for Tread of the Swift Hooves. Let me know if/what needs to be rolled to try and stop the fetch.

It was just like the nightmare. It was all Michael Greene could do to stay ahead. This was one race he was not going to lose. His entire world seemed to blur away as he started to run.

[Roll your modified Speed in dice, with a -14 penalty (The Fetch's Speed, plus the willpower he's spending). It's especially worth shooting for 5 successes in this specific case.]

[Deadly]

Charlene considered the question. She had been gone for some years, she was fairly sure of that. How many she couldn't begin to tell, but by Isabelle's question she figured it would probably be more than she expected. "I don't know. I must have been gone for some years at least, but I lost count long ago. 2025, maybe even 2030?" She decided to shoot high, but it couldn't be far off.

[BlasTech]

Charlene considered the question. She had been gone for some years, she was fairly sure of that. How many she couldn't begin to tell, but by Isabelle's question she figured it would probably be more than she expected. "I don't know. I must have been gone for some years at least, but I lost count long ago. 2025, maybe even 2030?" She decided to shoot high, but it couldn't be far off.

"Huh .. okay. Well it`s not quite there. I ... guess I was justne longer than I thought." Isabelle replied, slumping back in her seat. It had been nine years since she was taken? She didn't feel in her late twenties.

"Twenty Twenty." she said. Wonder, maybe horror tinging her voice. She began to flick through the other sections of the paper, looking for hints to what might have happened in her lost years.