(IC) New Orleans by Night CtL

[Ladorak]

Reggie looked to Tom helplessly, choosing his words with great deliberation he replied 'This could be Carter, we know nothing of his past life. To us he is simply Tom, our shining knight.' He looks quizzically at Pengrove for a moment before he adds 'Tom has always...I'm sure he would like very much to hear about this Carter. We have all sought to aid him in recovering his past life, but all to no avail. Batka you said? That's an interesting name.'

[EarthenRite]

Sebastian slid his notebook out of his pocket and touched the end of his pen to make sure he was ready.

“If you tell us about him, perhaps we could find him?”

He nods encouragingly to Reggie. They just had to find a way in.

[Bennosuke]

Tom turns around, his massive frame straining to face Reggie. "I could be who?" he asks with hurt and surprise. Tom's memories were filled with battles of knights in shining armor, and the name 'Carter Batka' was no lordly name! But identity was a tenuous concept to a Changeling, and to have that questioned or altered by another could be a great struggle. The statement seems to practically take Tom's legs out from under him. His jaw hang's open stupidly, eyes misted over as his mind becomes clouded with visions of possible past lives.

Behind Tom, Arthur Pengrove stares dumbly from the giant to the Fairest who had intruded his home, his mind starting to focus. "He's not Carter Batka!" Pengrove exclaims with equal parts surprise and contempt, the knobby finger still pointing at Tom.

It's at that moment that the name registers for Sebastian. He had seen the name Carter Batka in his book just earlier that day. Batka had been the leader of the Cayoodle Freehold who had formed the Hallow's Eve contract with Pengrove!

(OOC: Tom fails his breaking point and takes a single point of minor clarity damage)

[Bennosuke]

Introductions

“Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot.”

-Neil Gaiman, Dream Country

The pair sat out on Catoire's big white front porch, pretending to sip at the sweet ice tea sweating in their glasses. The humid air was stifling. The only sound in the midday air was the buzzing of cicadas, the far away noise of traffic from St. Charles Street, and the humming of the oxygen tank blowing concentrated oxygen into Heartstrings' nostrils; not that anyone called him that these days, or anyone but Songbird.

Jack sat staring at the old decrepit Victorian mansion across the street. The paint had almost completely peeled from the facade, and the wood was warped and rotted so that the house seemed to skew to one side. Unlike the well manicured garden on Ben's property, the lawn at this house had turned to dry dirt and weeds. It was like the "haunted house" out of every child's scary story, and it even seemed the sky was perpetually grey over the sloped roof and moaning windows of this house across the street. Jack had seen this place many many times, but something was bothering Jack about the house today...

Or perhaps it was better to contemplate the house rather than the decrepit facsimile of Songbird's oldest friend who sat hunched over in his seat, bald head red and peeling from the sun. Ben Catoire had something the visiting nurse had called COPD, and it basically meant his lungs had been turned to swiss cheese. He struggled heavily with every wheezing breath, his entire body practically shaking with the effort, and about once every ten minutes was taken with coughing fits that brought up brown sludge and blood. The treatments every two hours seemed to barely help. This frail skeleton had once been one of the most charming lady killers, one of the most skilled strings players, and Jack's first idol.

There was a creak that startled Songbird, as Ben shifted in his chair to reach for his glass of iced tea. The glass shook in his trembling hand (that would be the constant steroid treatments), threatening to spill over. Ben slurped clumsily from the glass, spilling a good volume down his chin and onto his already stained cotton polo shirt, and he replaced the glass on the side table with a loud thump. Ben turned his long stooped neck to peer at Songbird with glazed brown eyes. Once, that bald head had been covered in long dark rockstar curls that fell down to his shoulders. Once, those dark brown eyes had been filled with light and mischief, and just a wink would cause the high school girls to giggle and blush. "Forgive me for bringing it up again," Heartstrings said with a voice filled with sandpaper, "but how did you manage to stay so darn young?" A smile played across Ben's thin lips as he peered at Jack. "How is it that I have turned into this old mule, and you Jack are just barely a few years older than when you left?" There was still an intelligence behind those brown eyes, even if the whites had gone yellow and bloodshot.

Then Songbird realized what was bothering him about the house across the way... the front gate was open. It was always closed, and Songbird had assumed the house was just abandoned.

[EarthenRite]

“Batka was a leader of the Cayoodle Krew; a signatory to the Hallow’s Eve contract. You wouldn’t have asked about him so if you had seen him recently so there was a falling out? And since the Krew still exists...and yours does not...perhaps the two are connected? Is any of that right, Arthur?”

Some dots were coming together. A letter in the squares that made others appear.

[Bennosuke]

The aged Changeling begins to pick himself up off the floor, his robes clinging wetly to his withered frame. As he rises, Pengrove stabilizes himself with a hand against the wall, grunting with the exertion. Once he is back on his two feet, Arthur Pengrove shakes his head slowly, a spark of intelligence starting to catch in his dull eyes.

To Sebastian he says, "You aren't too far from it. Though to be honest, I couldn't tell you when I last saw Batka. My days are like dreams, and my dreams are only nightmares these days. Sometimes, I think I am still a young leader, and sometimes I could swear I am still in Arcadia." There is a deep and immeasurable sadness to these words, and they are spoken as if one were trying to describe the works of an abstract painting. Rousing himself from self pity, Pengrove says, "Well then. I apologize for my madness, but if you are not Carter Batka, then who are you?" This is initially directed at Tom, though it becomes clear he is addressing the whole group. Then his eyes focus on Sebastian, and coldly Pengrove says, "You I know!"

[Ohiska]

Jack turned sharply as he heard the creak of Catoire reaching for his iced tea, his pale blue eyes betraying his worry for a moment. He was afraid of losing him again, but understood that he inevitably would, eventually. He tried to dispel that depressing thought from his mind and think of anything else, smiling as his friend asked his question.

"Would you believe 'magic'?" Songbird made a hand-gesture akin to a magician performing sleight-of-hand, only there was no actual trick on display. "Nah, man. It's more like-... In the place I was, time don't move as fast, y'know?" He paused to think on that for a moment. "Near thirty years came and went back home, but in the cage-... Maybe five or six? I didn't count. Couldn't, really."

"Don't suppose you happen to know the story behind that house, Ben?" The changeling gestured over to the mansion across the street, changing the subject to avoid dwelling on his Durance. "Anyone still living there?"

[Bennosuke]

"Would you believe 'magic'?" Songbird made a hand-gesture akin to a magician performing sleight-of-hand, only there was no actual trick on display.

Catoire chuckled at this, slapping a palm against his knees, the laugh quickly becoming a couple of hacking coughs that fortunately does not transition into a fit. He shakes his head 'no', grinning back at Songbird with a smile that lacks a few teeth.

"Nah, man. It's more like-... In the place I was, time don't move as fast, y'know?" He paused to think on that for a moment. "Near thirty years came and went back home, but in the cage-... Maybe five or six? I didn't count. Couldn't, really."

The elderly man sighs, and again reaches for his drink. Still grinning he says, "Either I did not take enough acid in high school, or I took too much..." letting the joke linger. For a moment, Songbird can see through the wrinkles and the liver spots to the cocksure teenager who he used to look up to. As an afterthought, Ben adds, "But I guess it doesn't matter. Either I'm crazy, or you never aged, or maybe you're just someone who looks like my old friend; who knows? It doesn't matter." He takes another messy gulp of the tea, and something goes down the wrong pipe. The magic is gone as Heartstrings' chest heaves up and down with a series of wet wheezing coughs.

By the time he is finished, it seems like he no longer remembers the line of questioning he had been pursing. He takes one more long look at Songbird, sighs again and then looks down at his quivering hands.

"Don't suppose you happen to know the story behind that house, Ben?" The changeling gestured over to the mansion across the street, changing the subject to avoid dwelling on his Durance. "Anyone still living there?"

Cotaire nods his head and says, "That's the old Pengrove Mansion. I think the man living there is even older than I am. I think Mr. Pengrove is still alive and kicking, though I only ever see him at night, sitting out on his porch, drunk as a skunk. I don't think he's done anything to take care of that house of his for decades."

The name rings a bell somewhere far off in Songbird's memory, though nothing particular comes to mind.

[Ohiska]

Songbird grinned with Heartstrings, but couldn't help but be somewhat worried that his presence might have been making things harder for the old man. As his friend looked down at his quivering hands, Jack idly looked at his own talons, suddenly feeling very aware of the barrier of perception between the two of them.
He reached up to gently scratch the feathers on his arm to reassure himself of their reality and briefly considered lowering the Mask, before deciding against it. As Catoire answered his question, the changeling tried to remember why the name Pengrove was so familiar, but couldn't quite recall.

"Lives in an old, spooky house and only comes out at night-... Maybe he's a vampire." Jack said in a clearly joking manner, with a smirk plain on his face, even though he knew that vampires were probably real. "Does he look like Bela Lugosi?"

[Ladorak]

'Sir Reginald Rupert Humphrey, at your service' says Reggy with a bow 'Tom is... Tom, knight of the realm, and this is Imere, famous among our kind for her healing prowess and famous among humans for staring at a screen and never shutting up.
'We've come seeking information about the Hallow’s Eve contract. Carter is one of the founders isn't he? There was an avaricious Ice Queen, she perverted what Carter set out to do. Please, tell us about her.'

[Bennosuke]

The twinkle remained in Heartstring's eyes at his friend's joke. "More like Max Shreck," he said still grinning. Then the old man sighed again, the noise coming out like a high pitched whistle in a broken reed, leaning back in his wooden chair. Still reclining, Ben adds, "But to be honest, Arthur Pengrove is more of a sad, lonely old drunk than a wicked monster. He's almost to be pitied as much as me." This last part was said with equal parts mirth and melancholy, but it was not without irony, for as Ben Catoire was leaning back in his chair and admiring his own sense of humor, a group of four young individuals walked down the street and up to the gate of Pengrove's worn down mansion.

The arrival of the four strangers was enough to draw a bleary eyed stare from Heartstrings, but it was even more significant for Songbird, who could not help but note the way the Wyrd warped around the group. The female Fairest was tall, with pointed ears and luxurious hair that belied an otherwise series demeanor. The Wizened's skin was the cracked leathery parchment of well read books, and he had a skittish anxiety to his steps as they approached the iron gate. The Ogre was a child's nightmare of an evil knight, black armor dripping blood as his grieves pounded down the cracking pavement. And the male Fairest was a walking bouquet of blooming flowers. The four passed Songbird on the other side of the street, paused at the open gate, and then marched up to Pengrove's door. It was not long before the four had forced their way into the twisted haunted looking mansion, and closed the door behind him.

"Well isn't that the darndest!" exclaimed Heartstrings, a bony hand stroking his bald head.

************************************************** **************

The old man's eyes harden, narrowing as they focus on Reggie. "I believe," he says with words more sober, "that you're friend and I already discussed this... and he was not willing to hold up his end of the bargain!" His pointing finger was wreathed in ivy as it aimed at Sebastian with all the danger of a loaded weapon.

[EarthenRite]

Sebastian looks around to the others with a gesture suggesting that what he told them was now being fulfilled. He looks sadly at Pengrove.

“That’s why I brought them. One of them is certainly more capable to...to give you what you want than I am. If you still want that. They might...know how, better.”

[Ohiska]

"I don't think you're pitiable, Ben. You're just-... Going through a rough patch." Songbird tried to sound as convincingly optimistic as he could. He considered reaching for his guitar, set against a wall nearby, and offering to play a song to cheer Catoire up, but found his chain of thought interrupted by the sudden appearance of the procession of changelings across the street.

"Huh." He leaned forward in his chair as he watched the four of them walk over to the house, wondering as to what they might want with Pengrove. Was he a changeling? He seemed to remember so, but remained unsure of where he first heard the name. He tried to remember. "Seems like a-... Suspicious bunch."

"He never had visitors before?" Jack finally picked up his guitar and started idly playing a few notes, as he spoke. "Think I should follow 'em? Make sure Ol' Pengrove's alright?"

Spoiler: OOC

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If I can, I'd like to roll to see how if Songbird remembers where he heard about Pengrove, as well as how to determine how much he does know. I guess that might be Intelligence + Streetwise, maybe? If that's wrong, Bennosuke, feel free to correct me.

Intelligence 2 + Streetwise 1
(3d10)[2][7][7](16)

[Ladorak]

Inspiration hit Reggy like a lightning bolt. 'You were one of them.' he said softly, it was a statement, not a question. 'You were one of the five. The Ice Queen, the hound, the shadow and you
... The Garden.' His face hardened 'Is that the real reason?' He asked with venom 'I thought you wanted to die because you were old and alone, but I see now, it's guilt. You can't live with it, with what you let her do.'

[EarthenRite]

Sebastian looked on with a passive, receptive face. He was glad that someone had put the clues together. The Garden certainly seemed to make sense and would fit Pengrove.

“And if it’s guilt...then there’s something to fix. Something to set right. Which seems like what we *do* now.”

[Bennosuke]

Reggy and Sebastian's words literally stumble Arthur Pengrove as if he were suddenly hit by a strong gust of wind. It is clear that Reggy's accusation is spot on, or at least close enough to it. The entire house seems to quiver and warp as Pengrove gives out a low and mournful wail. "You don't understand," he shrieks, his voice blowing through the house like wind through the boughs of trees, filling up the entire space of the entryway.

Both hands go the Changeling's bald head, tearing at the scabrous flesh as he turns and flees back down the hall towards the living room. "Set it right? Fix it? As if it were that easy! As if I have any reason to go on like this." He staggers into the living room, and even from the entrance way you can see him collapse weakly into a moldy armchair.

Tom is the first to chase after him, his massive boots clomping down wooden flooring, tracking mud collected from who knows where. When the others approach Arthur Pengrove, they can see that he is again in a fragile state, the short lived intelligence extinguished from his glassy tear stained eyes. "I said it before, and I'll say it again. I'll tell you what you want to know, just promise to kill me."

Imere turns towards the group, and as if Pengrove were not there, gives a shrug to say 'why not'. Tom shrugs back, and raises a hand, summoning his hedgespun sword in a clap of smoke that fills the room with the smell of brimstone. The blade is long, slender, and wickedly curved, the metal almost an onyx black color. He looks to Reggy and Sebastian, hefting the blade over his shoulder, waiting for the order.

************************************************** *****************

"I don't think you're pitiable, Ben. You're just-... Going through a rough patch."

The statement draws a rueful chuckle from Benjamin Catoire, his lips pulling back to show his near toothless grin. "Did whatever made you stay so young also make you forget what happens to the aged?" he asks, fighting against a fit of coughs brought on by his laughter. He reaches desperately for his tea, and takes another desperate gulp. Once the coughing has subsided, a glum darkness seems to hang over the man, his eyes seeming to focus on some far off spot. Heartstrings is only awoken from this mood when Songbird says...

"Huh." He leaned forward in his chair as he watched the four of them walk over to the house, wondering as to what they might want with Pengrove. Was he a changeling? He seemed to remember so, but remained unsure of where he first heard the name. He tried to remember. "Seems like a-... Suspicious bunch."

"He never had visitors before?" Jack finally picked up his guitar and started idly playing a few notes, as he spoke. "Think I should follow 'em? Make sure Ol' Pengrove's alright?"

Roused from his dark thoughts, Ben shakes his head and says, "I don't know. I try to stay out of others' business. And to be honest, I've never liked the look of that house. It's got the haunt just as much as any other building does in these parts, I'd guess. Gives me the chills if I look to long at it." He gives a sheepish grin at this admission, then ***** an eyebrow at Songbird and says, "but I suppose the young and foolish have the most courage of any of us."

Songbird mulls over the name "Arthur Pengrove" for a second, but can't seem to draw any connection, other than that he was certain the name came up in Changeling circles.

Spoiler: OOC

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That roll was fine. I'd say the other approach would have been Int/Wits + Politics, but that would have been an even harder roll for Songbird. If you want you can spend a WP for 3 extra dice, or alternatively take a beat for a dramatic failure.

[Ohiska]

Songbird kept his guitar as Catoire spoke, getting into the rhythm of it. Once his friend had finished speaking, he started to sing a brief song from early in his career, about pushing forward through despair and fear, finding the light that can guide a soul through its dark night - Light in the Night. He figured it was somewhat relevant, as well as being a song that Catoire needed to hear.

"If you'll be okay on your own up here, Ben-... Think I'll go see what's going on across the street." Jack spoke after finishing the song, pulling the guitar strap over his head and picking himself up, before shifting the guitar so that he might carry it on his back; wouldn't want to enter a potentially dangerous situation without a weapon, after all. "Won't be too long."

Spoiler: OOC

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If it's necessary, I'll roll for the song-... And also because I want to use that ridiculous musical dice pool.

Expression 4 + Presence 4 + Mantle 2
(10d10)[6][2][5][3][8][3][5][3][6][4](45)

I also kind of want to do a Dramatic Failure with the previous roll, if you've thought up a way to make it interesting.

[Bennosuke]

As Songbird played guitar, he mulled the name over some more. Perhaps Pengrove had been that Cayoodle Krew Darkling he had met last month up on Frenchman Street; the one with black shadows for hair and ram's horns growing from his forehead. He had been severe at first, but good fun once he had a few shots in him. Pengrove had even gotten up on stage and stumbled his way through the guitar part of "Over the Hills" by Led Zepplin after enough liquid courage. The more Songbird thought about it, the more certain he was that the Darkling had been named Arthur Pengrove, and the less threatening it seemed to go over there and see how the fellow was doing.

Of course he didn't exactly match, the description that Heartstrings had given, but perhaps Pengrove was a Mirrorskin. That made sense to Songbird, who was suddenly finding himself more and more excited about swinging by.

Songbird's playing seemed to lull Ben into a comfortable daze. It hadn't been Songbird's best playing, but it seemed to be good enough as Catoire's eyes seemed to go half mast, a sedate smile resting lazily on his face. "Oh sure," Heartstrings said in a slow Louisiana drawl, "just watch yourself."

Spoiler: OOC

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Not the best roll despite the dicepool :p. I have the worst luck with the dice roller on this forum. Anyways, Songbird gets a beat for thinking he knows who Pengrove is. I have updated your character box on the first page of the OOC thread, where I am keeping track of your XP, willpower, clarity ect.

[EarthenRite]

Sebastian draws in a breath and looks into the expectant eyes of the others, Pengrove included. They were looking for confirmation. It was time to cast the die.

He nodded, and set the tip of his pen to the paper.

[Ohiska]

Songbird strode confidently across the street, towards Pengrove's old mansion. He hesitated a moment at the gate, looking up at the imposing face of the house, but resolved to push onwards regardless; however creepy the house was, he knew it belonged to a friend. He tried to open the door on his own, still somewhat concerned about the intentions of the motley that entered before him and not wanting to alert them to his presence.

[Ladorak]

Reggy looked up at Tom, he knew it wouldn't cost his friend much to swing the sword, nor would it cost Reggy much, if he was being honest with himself, to ask him to do the deed 'I give you my word as a British Officer,' he lied smoothly 'Tell us your tale, we will deliver the punishment we think is fitting.'

[Bennosuke]

The withered Changeling looks up from his place deep within the his moldy easy chair, and shakes his head at Reggy. "No," he says weakly, "I've lived too long. I've lost my grip on sanity, and I'm ready for it all to be over. Promise me you will kill me after I tell you what I know about the Hallow's Eve Contract. I'l seal your Pledge to hold you to your word, and then and only then will I tell you what you want to know." He raises a frail hand to his forehead, wiping away a layer of sweat and dry papery petals from dying vines. Pengrove sighs, and says, "It's nothing you have to fear; I want to die... I'm just to weak to do it now. So do it! Promise me death!"

Tom takes a step forward, hefting the sword like an executioner.

Imere crosses her arms across her chest and says, "Well if no one else will promise, I will. I say we do it." She looked to Sebastian and Reggy, clearly expecting agreement.

And then the front door opened...


Songbird carefully made his way past the open iron gate, and down the cracked pavement walkway. The stairs up to the front porch, sagging in the middle and canted to one side, groan with each step Songbird takes. The paint of the house's siding, which may have been white at one point is cracked and peeling, and several large curled flakes have gathered at the foot of the door.

The doorknob turns easily in Songbird's hand, the door swinging open with a loud high pitched screech. Inside, down a long and twisted entrance way, Songbird could see the decrepit elderly Changeling in the stained bathrobe, surrounded by a mob of four younger Lost (the four that Songbird saw enter the building just moments before).

(OOC: I'll ask that the active PCs take this opportunity to describe what their character looks like)

[Ohiska]

Songbird stared at the gathering in the end of the corridor a moment, trying to make out what was going on. Did that Ogre just draw his sword on the old man? He wasted no time in retrieving his guitar, readying his talons to play a song that could put this all to a stop, if need be.

"The Hell's goin' on in here!?" The new arrival shouted aloud as he stepped forward, his accent marking him clearly as a native of the city. He looked like an anthropomorphic bird - akin to a cockatiel - with feathers of many bright colours, but lacking anything resembling wings. He wore a plain white t-shirt, loose fitting jeans and no shoes, alongside a brass key on a cord around his neck; he carried an old guitar like it was some kind of firearm.

[Ladorak]

Reggy spun on his heel as his hand went instinctively to his hip, seeking a pistol that was not there. 'Oh, hello.' He gave an uncertain half smile, in truth he was glad for the interruption, Pengrove had lived up to his reputation. He eyed the newcomer's aura warily 'I assume you work for Typhon?'

[Bennosuke]

The name Typhon rings no bells for Songbird. The Changeling with the giant sword, dressed in black steel armor seems to respond to the British man with the handlebar mustache and blooming flowers' words. He swings the massive blade to point at Songbird, and takes several steps towards the intruder, a terrifying murderer's scowl across his face.

[EarthenRite]

Sebastian spins around to face the newcomer, his long curling hair shaking like a mop as he does so. He is wearing a black dress shirt, without a tie, a black blazer and black pants. His notebook and pen almost fall from his hands. His hands behind the veil of glamour look like parchment pulsing with ink. When he speaks, he has a very clear British accent.

“Oh wonderful. Who are you? What are you doing here?”

[Ohiska]

"Typhoon? Don't even know who that is. The name's Songbird, and I'll be asking the questions here." Songbird answers Reggy with little delay, only to find the Ogre's sword turned on him a moment later. He looks the swordsman straight in the eye and strums his guitar as if he were firing a warning shot, the sound blending together with the ethereal cello and piano music of his mantle. "Drop the sword, or I'll start playing. Beautiful, but the last song you'll ever hear."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

If necessary, I'd like to try and intimidate the swordsman. I'll also spend a Willpower point on it.

Presence 4 + Willpower 3 - 1 for unskilled Intimidation
(6d10)[2][7][2][2][1][2](16)

[Ladorak]

'Now now,' cautioned Reggy 'I'm sure you're a talented musician, but you're outnumbered four to one. Five if Mr Pengrove sees fit to bestir himself.' He put himself between Tom and Songbird, holding out his hands as if to fend them off 'If you're not working for... Typhoon, we have no dispute. Tom's not dropping the sword though. So ask your questions, but if you start strumming it won't go well for you.'

[Bennosuke]

"Drop the sword, or I'll start playing. Beautiful, but the last song you'll ever hear."

The massive Ogre who the others referred to as Tom throws his head back and laughs. His eyes seem to glow a dark red, like the demon in some child's fairy tale. He keeps the sword pointed at Songbird, taking several steps closer as well, as if daring Songbird to make his move. "I move for no man," The Snowskin says, "and I do not fear you or your empty threats." As he approaches, now only fifteen feet away, Songbird can see that his massive armored frame nearly fills the entire hallway, his neck even bent forward a little to keep from hitting the ceiling.

But Songbird can hear the voice of reason in Reggy, who somehow finds a way to step in front of the Black Knight as he speaks.

[Ohiska]

Songbird tried to keep himself determined, even as Tom called his bluff, though his fear for the Ogre remained obvious. He seemed ready to start playing, but stopped himself after Reggy stepped in between Tom and himself, obviously relieved that he might not have to fight.

"What's your issue with Arthur here?" The avian changeling turned his head to look at the old changeling in the bathrobe. Was that Pengrove? It's always hard to tell with Mirrorskins. "Saw you force your way in from across the street. Then I follow and see 'Tom' moving in for the kill. Why?"