[Sodium_noir] Hell is Other People

[Bill]

Sodium Noir World of Darkness PbEM


JB, Sarge

"Something  has come to Gotham.  It arrived by traveling outside this world, using roads that exist on the other side of the rain.  I do not know who or what they are, only that there are a lot of them.  Given recent events, I'm worried of there intention.  Are you aware of them?"

"To speak plain t'ya son, 'Something' is a mighty broad bit of intel right now. We've got all sorts creeping into our haunts and the streets are hardly safe at all. Forgiegn Ghosts, things what was never alive, the gooks from right outta the tempest itself."
 
There is a sensation of a pause. John smells acrid smoke, half cordite and half havanna cigar.
 
"I tell you something however. We captured some heretics just an hour or so ago who had been up to thier old tricks of skin riding a few drunks. Basic possesion of the living is a crime boy, and we punish offenders with extreme prejudice. But while debriefing them we had a few suspicions comfirmed for us. The Shroud in Gotham, that veil that keeps you from seeing us and us from just up and ordering a Jack and Coke at the bar, its gettin' mighty thin."
 
The smell of smoke again the direction of the voice moves around him.
 
"Nobody noticed at first, given the time of year. The wall always gets a little thinner around now. Y'musta heard all the stories about Hallow'een and that. But it wasn't until we compared our reports with what these detainee's were boasting that we relaised this ain't the usual thinnin'"
 
John closed his eyes, trying to sort through all the details that were coming in.  "Thank you, Sarge.  This news is troubling.  I hope you won't hesitate to come to me if more information comes forward or help is needed."

He's silent for another moment as he tried to consider the ramifications.  He had no clue where to even begin, and didn't want to waste any more of the Sarge's time with random questions.  "I've found some people who might be helpful.  I'll keep you and your friendsd informed.  Please don't hesitate to find me."

He bid farewell to the Sarge, thaning him for coming.

[Christine]
Christine finds a ghost grin of her own, an echo in the cave of broken glass. 


"Sounds like a plan. Stan," she says. "Anyplace but here. Anyplace we can drink and not think too hard." 


Christine is aware of a wobbly twinge in her stomach at the thought of more alcohol and grimaces. She badly wants to go carousing with Jack and Aurora, blocking everything but the here and now right out of her head and her heart. But she's already at the rough and jagged edge of tonight's binge. Fuck it. Her frown lifts suddenly. 


"Raindogs," she says abruptly, stabbing a decisive finger at Jack. "It does great coffee. Chases away the grims, settles your guts, puts hair on your chest! I *need* some of Jaywick's coffee!" Her grin amps up, closer to its normal wattage. "'Cos y'know, a girl can never have too much hair on her chest." 


She cocks her head and squints up at Jack. 


"You, me, Aurora, this John guy . . . " She thinks fleetingly of Sandra, " . . . who else d'you think wants out of this Morgue?"

[John]

It's at this point that John returns from the bathroom.  His smile is a little forced, as if he had just received more bad news.  "Raindogs sounds great.  A little fun right now sounds great."

tags

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