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Posts posted by knave

  1. Adam said, "The good news is we found one of the guys involved in the murders. He was a little sloppy last time. One guess whose hotel room was just a couple of feet away from the last victim. The bad news is he resisted arrest a little too much."

    William adopts his most sombre expression as he says, "The poor man appears to have been carrying vials of a peculiar liquid. And, whilst we will certainly have to have this substance analyzed at our laboratory, the most likely explanation for his actions would be a strong adverse reaction to a narcotic. I have it on good authority that the effects of laudinum on a small percentage of unfortunates can be likened to turning Mr Stevenson's Dr Jekyll into a certifiable Mr Hyde."

    "Sheriff, we don't want to interfere in your jurisdiction any more than we already have. I think it best if you have the body transferred to Mr Algreto, along with all effects - as they are now all evidence."

    "I'm sure we can leave this in your capable hands whilst we pursue the true nature and origin of potion. "

  2. Adam said, "So everyone good with blaming the dead guy?"

    William sighs, but nods. "Mr Blakemore, if you wouldn't mind, your coat pocket is probably the last place anyone would look for this letter. Other than that, I believe we can remain more or less true to what actually happened whilst subtly shifting emphasis and consequent blame toward... the unfortunate gentleman."

    "Shall we?"

  3. I think we the players have been a little stunned (well done that).

    A good question. I don't think we have a license to kill... certainly not "innocent" people.

    Or in this day and age, maybe we do? Fleeing the scene of a crime, person in league with the murderer...

    I'm open to suggestions.

    Well, we've got 2 options - we can go back to Algreto, cap in hand, or we can just deal with it. William's manipulation skills are somewhat fearsome, but I suspect we've been seen - so the options for that route are somewhat limited.

  4. Ski is right, this one was mostly my bad. But with the information I actually had IMHO tactically it was the right move.

    We're dealing with something that could and would kick our collective asses, *or* just run away from us. After we went down that Jeckle/Hide line of thought and then saw what he was up to (i.e. injecting himself) I made the choice that we needed to act now rather than wait for perfect information.

    Agreed. I don't think the PCs actions were unwarranted... just a bit paranoid. The sort of paranoid you get from being a PC in Call of Cthulhu. ::tongue But then again, from the vic's perspective - he sees people in his room, realizes they've seen him, figures that it's 'Piper', and runs for it. If anything, even more reasonable.

    I was in two minds as to what William would do as he's the least experienced of the characters by a long way. I finally decided on Shoot First because it's what the people who actually know what they're doing are doing and it seemed to fit.

    But ya win some, ya lose some. ::tongue

  5. William sighs. "Well, we have our lead. We'd best contact our benefactor, although I doubt he will be terribly impressed with our... progress."

    He turns to Adam, "Mr Trooper, as you have already been exposed, would you mind gathering up the evidence? I suspect it would be worth a more thorough analysis.... Especially as our unfortunate victim doesn't seem to have any other weapons. And Mr Blakemore, I don't suppose you might know where we would find this Gentek lab, by any chance?"

  6. Dear Mr. Piper,

    I am writing this to let you know that I am closing down Gentek laboratories. Our experiments were successful beyond our wildest imaginings. Unfortunately, those successes have grown past our control and we have a responsibility to fix our mistakes. With that in mind, I will go after subject number four and eliminate it. I understand that this may not be in your best interest, but its the right thing to do.

    This is my letter of resignation.

    Respectfully,

    -Thomas Tellford

    The page falls from William's now nerveless hand. His eyes blink twice. All that he would do - his grand quest - his adventure...

    It's all he can do to turn away before his stomach rebels.

    He wipes his mouth with a pocket handkerchief. "Well... it seems we are looking for a Mr Piper and Gentek laboratories."

  7. Adam says,

    "Ah, crap. No one touch me, I've been poisoned."

    William says, "Mr Trooper, try not to move, I hear that makes it worse..." and backs off, keeping his pistol pointing roughly in the direction of the dead scholar, but giving himself enough room to change targets at short notice if he has to...

    If all seems safe, he'll crouch down and examine what's left of the projectile - hoping for the off chance that whatever it is might have been mentioned in tales of his brothers' more exotic adventures...

  8. The entire team in pursuit, Adam Trooper is the first to round the corner and has just enough time to see the man in the suit looking quite disheveled, leaning against the wall. He appears to be sticking something into his leg. Instantly the man turns to Adam and looses something in his direction.

    The others round the corner together.

    Round Three

    Adam ((projectile incoming))

    Ophidian

    William

    Suit

    William aims and fires as soon as he can.

  9. Reaching the ground, William dashes after the quarry, and seeing that his colleagues have already taken this chase to the next level, draws a snub little pistol, the top of the barrel equipped with a bizarre-but-compact sighting mechanism, from a shoulder holster built into the lining of his coat.

    He shouts "Stop!" as he runs, but, if the learned gentleman doesn't stop, and if he gets a clear shot, he will line up the red dot sight and fire - targetting centre mass.

  10. Back when he is looking at the signature in the log book, William smiles - perhaps surprising even himself, "Actually - I think I do recognize a few things from my travels- In foreign parts they tend to shape some letters differently... From the unusual T, F and R I'd guess our suspect is something of a polyglot. And from the overall style... it's concise but... sloppy. I knew a few people at Oxford who wrote like that - scholars who weren't terribly prissy - all focussed on specific goals rather than just hoarding of knowledge...."

    He shrugs, "It's amazing what you can tell from a signature... I begin to wander if we're seeking Mr Stevenson's Dr Jekyll rather than an asian terror. Then again, perhaps it's all nonsense..."

    The team spends several minutes going over the guest room in great detail. The closet is empty and there is no luggage or clothing and no novelty kit. It would appear that this traveler travels light or has already left the hotel. Working together, Adam and William move the heavy wood bed frame away from the wall. The Ophidian fluidly moves in behind them looking around the newly exposed floor and wall area for clues. Moving back to the window William stares down on the back alley and finds himself momentarily day dreaming.

    The Ophidian's unearthly senses uncover a few rogue blood droplets along the side of the bed leg, closest to the adjoining desk. His expression at the find, draws William from his day dream back to reality. The first thing he notices is a man standing down in the alley looking up at him. The man has a small bowler hat, round glasses and brownish suit, and carries a attache case.

    It seems as if time slows to a crawl, as the two stare at each other...then he turns and runs!

    If pursuit is wished initiative order is:

    ***I edited the initiative. Sorry, I'm stupid :-D***

    William (Considering you're the lookout you get promoted to first.)

    Ophidian

    Adam

    Brown Suit

    "Quickly! It's him!" William shouts as he dashes onto the fire escape after the quarry.

  11. Within the next hour, Deacon has acquired Thomas Everett the assistant operator of the inn. With his help the team has access to room guest ledger. After reading the log but a moment, as it has few entries, aside from the names that are recognizable as their own, there was only one name that was entered in the past 11 days, a Mr. Thomas Tellford. The assistant takes you up to his room, and opens the door with little interest in the teams credentials, he requires no explanation. The heat and humidity do little to calm the smell that comes with death. The breeze blows in the stench of the remaining blood and gore from the room across the hall where the battle began the night before.

    As Everett moves to show the team around, William offers to shake his hand, looking him in the eye and sincerely saying, "Mr Everett, I am so sorry to have to trouble you in your loss like this. If there is anything at all we can do for you, you just have to say."

    Looking at the name in the Ledger, William says, "I did once have a Graphologist man analyze my writing... what was it he said now? Left slanted letters is emotional withdrawal? I think I can remember how it works."

    [invoking instant expert on Mr Tellford's handwriting]

    The room inside is similar to all the others, though the accents differ. The full size bed is made and the room appears orderly.

    "This here be Mr. Thomas's room, feel free to look around. I'll be checkin' the other rooms'n such, see if there is any other damage needin' be attendin too. Just leave it open when ya'll leave, I'll see to it."

    Thee room is simple, one bed, a tall dresser, a desk with an empty water basin and bed pan. The small window looks down upon the rear of the house and the yard.

    William moves to the window and looks out and down, before searching the room.

  12. George will contineue after the Aberrant in front of him, moving to try to minimise or get around its cover while continuing with the burst fire.

    "Reynaulds, reload forcrissake you ape!" he shouts at him, to try to snap him out of it.

    George double times it forward around the room’s bizarre central piece of tech, trying to get an angle on the aberrant, but Edmund, eyes watering and sweat already beginning to bead his forehead, can only manage to keep the near side of the room covered.

    Reynalds meanwhile fumbles with his webbing, screaming, “Never again you fucking aberrant bastards!” desperately pulling loose a clip for his Wembly & Hardcastle as the colourfully glowing ball of energy before him flickers and undulates....

    George

    You round the console staying as far back as you can, trying to force the Aberrant into your or Edmund’s line of fire. You see it - it’s clothing bloodied; its face slack, devoid of all expression. For a moment it’s stance seems to be protectively covering the console. But it is a fleeting moment. The ‘thing’ launches itself towards you, moving far too fast - a strand of something silvery shimmering in one of its hands. You fire - bullets slice through the creature’s face - tearing away its hood of stolen skin revealing the terribly deformed pustulating burn-victim flesh beneath - ripping chunks of that apart as well... But it is on you - massive strength throwing you backward - a flicker of silver and something is encircling your throat! There is pain and gunfire - and bright bright light.

    Edmund

    George rounds the console only to have the aberrant man pounce - you try to draw a bead but they’re moving so fast. So tumbled together towards the wall and the pods. George fires but the aberrant keeps coming - ignoring the seemingly massive damage - wrapping some sort of piano wire about his neck. Finally you have a clear shot - just as the creature pulls at its lethal garotte. You fire. Bullets tear into the aberrant.

    Light flares behind you. A beam of shimmering blue-orange light strikes George - envelopes him and the creature. You seem surrounded by greenish white... Your vision begins to dim... A woman walks toward you - seemingly through the air. She is clad in scales of green and wears a crown of laurels. Her hair is dark, brows arked and her smile is cruel... You feel the world closing in on you...

    George

    There is pain but it belongs to someone else. To a vessel. Not to you. You see the creature - the wreck of what was once a man standing over your fallen body - barely moving. At your side stands an angel clad in white lace. The palest, most beautiful woman you ever saw, her eyes sky blue, and lips cherry red. Flaxen hair flows down her shoulders. She smiles and her eyes glitter - the world seems to laughs with utter joy. ”Let me in George... Let me in and you may live she seems to say,” without words. ”Let me in and mayhap we both shall live...” All joy seems to leech from the world with the prospect of any harm coming to this creature.

    Edmund

    ”Let me in Edmund... Let me in or you will die. I am all that stands between your race and your end.”

    Somewhere far away Reynalds is screaming ”NEVER!!!!”

  13. Adam says,

    "Yes please, I think we're going to need to talk to Thomas. If there was a desk man or someone else who'd have met the people staying here we're going to need to talk to them as well."

    No matter what the answer is Adam takes a look at the hotel's log book.

    William is looking about a bit distractedly during this exchange, [looking about at any and all onlookers to see if anyone matches the description he's been given] but seems to come back to himself at this point. He nods agreement at Adam's handling of the Sheriff's question and heads for the log book.

  14. On seeing the figure George will immediately bring the rifle to bear and shout to the 'man'.

    "Home Guard! Lie face down on the floor with your hands behind your head! Do it NOW!"

    Give it a burst if it tries to do anything else.

    With the rifle up and sight engaged George can clearly see the man’s damaged face ripple as if something is moving beneath the rotted flesh - a reaction to his shouted warning perhaps? But, the man moves sure enough - and blindingly fast at that - throwing himself toward and behind the room’s central console where he will be shielded from George’s angle of attack. But George is ready. His weapon rattles away its deadly burst-fire staccato - catching the diving 'aberrant' across the shoulder and right flank even as the ECS’s integrated aberscope pings up an increased threat assessment- the taintmeter’s pinging ratchets up to 5/10.

    With George stopping to fire, Edmund has ample opportunity to join him at the point of vantage into the room.

    But as Edmund moves forward and George fires, both are assaulted with a stream of simultaneous voices.

    Moneypenny: ”Aberrant contact confirmed. Contain! Marine Units are inbound eta 6 minutes.” Reynalds: “Wha? He’s glow!...” And a new voice - a blend of Vogel’s whine and something else, something distinctly feminine, immensely powerful, regal and yet ethereal. This voice does not come from the George or Edmund’s cyberwear - instead it imposes itself directly into their consciousnesses - a command from some...thing that expects to be obeyed: DO NOT DAMAGE THE INFECTION ZONE! - and both of you immediately understand this to mean the bizarre equipment in the room. BUT Do... Do destroy the taintwretch!” the second sentence shudders into your mind - you know the speaker is in pain... and can’t but help feel it your duty to strike down anything that would dare cause something as base as pain to a being of such... such...

    ATATATATATATATA Reynalds' rifle spatters bullets everywhere on full auto as he screams behind you in anguish - the force of the bullets at point blank range ripping the softly glowing doctor Vogel apart - splattering blood and chunks of flesh across the two of you lower down the stairs... The enfilade rips into the ceiling and wall to your right - ricochets and concrete splinters hissing through the air all about you. Something clips George in the face - just below his right eye... he feels a flash of pain and wet blood. Edmund is struck in the back of the knee, and it collapses under his weight with a flash of intense pain - causing him to fall forward (although he manages to avoid further injury by rolling) into the room proper.

    The greater part of what once was Marcel Vogel slides down the concrete stairs on a slick of his own blood and a glowing nimbus of shifting colored light now floats where he had stood. Behind that Reynalds is screaming ”DIE!!!” as his Mac 803 clicks ineffectually.

    The death faced man below has found cover behind the central console, shouting up ”Don’t destroy the equipment! It’s the work of MAL! It could save us ALL!

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