Horror's Heart (Call of Cthulhu) IC

[Voshkod]

Averell steels himself and looks directly at the eye. Never back down from a spirit, Crowley had once said to him. Never let them see you as weak, as a mere vessel.

[Civil War Man]

Neil sat, barely conscious of the eye in front of him. His gaze remained unfocused as his mind relived his experiences in the war.

In his unconscious mind, he felt some destructive force hit him, a spiritual rain of shrapnel that ripped at his body. But even the sudden pain did not let him rouse himself from the waking nightmare.

[Dark Seeker]

Ian stares right into the eye, beginning to regret challenging the master to show itself, but also feeling a dread excitement. Was he not powerful enough to deal with whatever this being was? The thought provides some comfort, however foolish it is.

[Xsesiv]

The eye stares hard at everyone in the séance. After a long moment, Ian and Averell notice, in their heads, something not so much a voice as an implanted thought, and when examined, the thought says, bluntly and plainly: "I applaud your bravery, and so grant you this one opportunity to escape. Ignore my mercy to your doom."

The eye scans the room once more, then eyelids appear and close over it. As soon as it's completely shut, the eye fades away. When it finally disappears, Madame d'Anjou lies on the floor semi-conscious, her eyes half-open and a sheen of cold sweat on her pale, twitching face.

[Voshkod]

"Doctor," Averell says slowly. "I think you have a patient. And I know we have a problem."

[Dark Seeker]

Wiping his forehead with a handkerchief , Ian takes a moment to get his bearings.

"Well gentlemen. I suppose we can indeed conclude that the supernatural is at play here." He feels many things. Excitement. Dread. Bafflement.

Averell's words bring him back to reality, and the doctor springs into action. He rushes to Madame d'Anjou's side, examining her. Her state brings back feelings of concern within him.

"Please, stay with me! Oh, I knew this was a bad idea. Can you hear me, Madame d'Anjou? I want you to nod if you can." His voice is gentle yet firm, the practiced diction of a small town doctor.

[Xsesiv]

Madame d'Anjou wakes slowly, wiping her face. "My head feels fuzzy and I've got a headache," she says, softly. "I'd greatly appreciate some coffee, or a snifter of Calvados, if you'd be so kind."

[Voshkod]

"Doctor," Averell says, "can you take Mme. D'anjou to her room and rejoin us here? I think we have quite a bit to talk about. But before you go, Mme. D'anjou - which voice was the Father heeding?"

[Xsesiv]

"I tried to tell him the body wasn't that of the saint and the heart was, the voices told me so," says Madame d'Anjou, still looking shaken. "He would not listen."

[Dark Seeker]

"Come along Madame d'Anjou, you need to rest," he guides her to her bedroom, providing her with a small glass of Calvados (As well as a larger one for himself, given the stressful circumstances)

"Please Madame, do not contact that... thing, again, unless we have need of it. Try to ignore the... Voice, as much as possible. I will talk to the others, we'll help the Father."

He stays with her a few moments, before rejoining the others.

"Well..."

[Voshkod]

"Well," Averell says, pouring himself a drink from a bottle he's raided from the pantry. "We have a serious problem. Our good friend has made contact with the real thing, something truly supernatural, and I fear it's corrupting him. The body is gone. I suspect the Father has taken it, hidden it somewhere, to protect it. We need to find him and find it, and quickly."

[littlebottom]

"We need to retrieve the translation from the bowl aswell, but i think we should check his room for clues, we dont have much time so maybe we should split up."

[Dark Seeker]

"Given what we are dealing with, I agree with you both. Let's search Philip's room. Maybe we'll find the body, or at least away to hurt this evil entity. If it can be hurt."

The good doctor address Neal. "What are your thoughts on all of this, Neal? Feel up to a little breaking and entering?" He attempts a light joke to dispel the heavy mood.

[Voshkod]

"I agree that our friend's privacy is no longer at issue," Averell says, "and we must hurry. I don't see what the bowl has to do with anything right now, though. If there's a connection between the curse we've been hired to deal with and the curse our friend is under, I don't see it."

[Xsesiv]

In McBride's rather large bedroom, as was described, the bed hasn't been slept in and a fresh shirt hangs crisply pressed on the side of the wardrobe. A writing desk sits in one corner, a bookcase full of fiction and historical, anthropological and religious works against one wall, and apart from a nightstand with an untouched carafe of water, these are the only furnishings of note in the room.

The large window opens onto an alleyway, and is slightly ajar. On the sill and the carpet beneath are a few clumps of fresh clay of a dull blue-grey colour.

[Civil War Man]

Neil didn't acknowledge the words of the doctor, but managed to get up and move around a bit. His brow sweating, his eyes still unfocused, he silently followed the group into Phillip's room. He blinked slowly a few times, his mind slowly recovering as he pushed the bad memories back. As he did, his gaze sharpened as his eyes were drawn towards anything that looked out of the ordinary.

[Voshkod]

Averell examines the clay on the ground to see if it matches the clay in the cellar. He examines the writing desk for any papers, and scans the bookshelf for any works that seem to have been read recently.

[Xsesiv]

Averell's no geologist, but the dull blue-grey clay doesn't seem to match the crumbly red-brown soil in the basement.

The desk's empty and the books that have been read lately aren't anything special.

Neil spots a large, fat journal sticking out from underneath the nightstand.

[Civil War Man]

Neil tilted his head as he noticed the journal. Walking over to the nightstand, he bent down and pulled it from its hiding place. He quickly glanced over the cover before opening it and skimming through the first few pages.

[Xsesiv]

The journal contains the daily chores of priesthood intermingled with speculations about the writings of Augustine and Aquinas, the local politics of the diocese, and personal entries. It describes the process for setting up the new parish: approval, then raising funds, and finally the conversion of the seminary, around at the start of the year. The process has apparently taken several years but Philip feels lucky that it has moved so quickly in his favour.

Lately have been some entries hopefully more related to the recent incidents:

Spoiler

Show

23rd April, 1923: Started excavating the cellar today, but what if I'm mistaken? What if it is not there? Nonsense. I know I have all the facts straight; but will God punish me for knowing too much?
29th April, 1923: Praise the Father of All, one of the workers has uncovered something. I have found it, it must be the tomb, I have it, I have finally found him.
4th May, 1923: Surprising discovery; a blessing or a curse? To find a heart so old so well preserved is surely a miracle, but one of God? the discovery is unnatural. I had the most terrifying dream last night, but I'm just tired. The heat has made me tired.
9th May, 1923: James of Andrews, James of Andrews. Some of the workers are suspicious. Who would want to steal James Andrews' corpse, or his heart, unless they too know, unless they are Them?
14th May, 1923: They would kill me for this corpse and his heart! I wonder which part they want more, but no matter. I must protect our holy Saint Cutis. I will send for my friends.
19th May, 1923: [the last entry] It is good to see, once again, people I trust. They are highly intelligent, and may discover the dates and solve 178 years of mystery, but what if they find more? What if they find The Blood?

[Dark Seeker]

"What have you got there?" Ian asks, walking over to Neil and reading over his shoulder.

"Oh dear. Things are worse then I thought. I fear our friend may be possessed by this creature, or at least in its thrall."

[littlebottom]

"The blood? The heart, The body, and the blood? We need to find out more, but how?"

[Voshkod]

"I'd suggest we check the Church," Averell says. "Where else would a priest who thinks a saint is talking to him go?"

[Dark Seeker]

"At this point, that seems like one of the few leads we have. Maybe it will explain where Philip's gone as well," he pauses, hesitant, but continues anyway.

"We must be careful however. It's likely our friend is possessed by this being, or at least unwittingly working for it. When next we see him, it might be best to restrain him, at least until I can talk some sense into him."

[Civil War Man]

"I knew he was lying to us," said Neil. "The man could be as mad as a hatter, but it's clear that he thought someone was trying to stop him, whether or not they were just figments of his imagination."

He slammed the journal shut with a loud bang and held it in his shaking hands. As angry as he seemed, anyone looking closely could see that Neil was still unnerved from what happened during the seance. "You got something to drink, Averell? I could use something strong right about now."

[littlebottom]

"We've not got a clue where to look for him, i say in the mean time we should atleast do something we need to do. Lets atleast go pick up the translation while we think." Mortimer will leave the room heading for the front door

[Xsesiv]

Mortimer, leaving the church, heads towards a main road in search of a cab. He turns a corner and accidentally knocks over a big, bearded man in a fine grey suit. The man turns out to be peg-legged, and so has a great deal of difficulty struggling to his feet.

[Dark Seeker]

"Sounds like a good plan. It's the only lead we have right now." Ian replies, following Mortimer out.

Seeing the peg legged man, he helps Mortimer(if he assists) help him to his feet.

"Are you alright sir? You had a nasty spill there."

[littlebottom]

"Terribly sorry sir, or er... deesole" Mortimer says not very good with french, putting horribly wrong emphisis on the wrong part of the word.

its at that moment Mortimer twigs who this man is. staying cool, Mortimer continues "I'm so sorry, let me make it up to you, come with me, and i'll pour you a drink!" Mortimer grabs the man by the shoulder firmly and pulls him back to the church, constantly saying "Terribly sorry, what kind of drink do you like? You do speak English right? My French is terribly rusty" continuously speaking babble to distract the man and not let him answer any of his questions.

[Xsesiv]

The man allows the questions to wash over him, but doesn't let himself be moved an inch. He smiles coolly throughout. "I recognise you, too. You do not want to detain me. I am a member of the LaVoie family. I am Hugh LaVoie, Jean-Claude's cousin, but your confusion is only natural. Come with me to my club, and we can talk."