Aug 31 20:28:42 <gumbal1> -B A L D W O L F-
Aug 31 20:29:50 <gumbal1> The intercom is timely, coming on a few hours after the last class of the day, at least. «Would Madeline Maddox please report to room 231 in the admninistrative wing?»
Aug 31 20:30:45 * SnoozleBee (moc.rr.ser.ssam.57-3-10-25-vhf|eeBykoopS#moc.rr.ser.ssam.57-3-10-25-vhf|eeBykoopS) has joined #sunnybrook-fireflies
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Aug 31 20:35:57 <Nemi> And so Madeline does. As usual, there's no fanfare, no special effects. Just abruptly a door opening and a Madeline, bundled up in sweater and skirt with leggings, peeking in. She's hollow-eyed and sleepless-looking. "Hi?"
Aug 31 20:38:57 <gumbal1> For the mission, it was down to two people. That Dr. Hershel Reinman's reaction to each would have been radically opposed would have been different. Akemi certainly would have recieved a welcome fanfare, like a grandfather meeting his granddaughter. The hollow Madeline, however, earns a brief look of worry. But only a brief one, as the good doctor puts on his trusty smile. "Ah, Madeline. Have a seat." Seeing Jane's reaction, Dr. Reinman's seen
Aug 31 20:38:57 <gumbal1> fit to install comfier chairs for visitors to sit at. Comfort helps with these things.
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Aug 31 20:39:17 <gumbal1> *opposed would have been a given.
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Aug 31 20:40:09 <Nemi> Madelin steps lightly to one of the chairs and sits, almost immediately going straight and folding her hands in her lap. She looks blankly at Dr. Reinman, as if expecting him to give instructions.
Aug 31 20:42:13 <gumbal1> "…classes not going so well? I could perhaps talk with your advisor to see about getting you classes at more agreeable hours. Time always helps in these matters." A bowl of peppermints is nudged in Madeline's direction. Feel free to have one."
Aug 31 20:42:44 <gumbal1> *"Feel
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Aug 31 20:43:37 <Nemi> Madeline liked peppermints. So she reaches up to take one, unwrapping it with care before popping it in her mouth. ".. classes are fine, um, thanks.." And it's true. Her grades are great- when she shows up, and if she bothers to hand in her homework or projects.
Aug 31 20:46:43 <gumbal1> Something Dr. Reinman wouldn't know unless she happened to be in his politcal science/government classes. "Well. If you need anything, my office hours are Tuesdays and Thursdays, three to seven PM. Dr. Lespiaux and Dr. Taylor will also be happy to help you with anything you need. Now," The good doctor briefly bends over to retrieve some papers under the desk. "There's a bit of a problem you would be perfect for."
Aug 31 20:47:33 <Nemi> "Okay." Madeline bites the peppermint with a crunch and sucks on the pieces as she watches him. ".. thanks, I guess. Um. What do you need me for?"
Aug 31 20:49:17 <gumbal1> Two manilla folders are gently put onto the desk, and slid over to Madeline. "Before we begin, I'd like to ask if you believe certain people deserve to die. Genocidal despots, child molestors, death cultists, you know. The usual lot. I won't judge you for your answer."
Aug 31 20:52:20 <Nemi> ".. some people do. Jus' cuz they like.. Make the world so much worse just being in it. Um.." Madeline takes the folders and flips them open to stare at them, propped up on her lap.
Aug 31 20:59:52 <gumbal1> "Take a while to look over these two people, and tell me if they fit that criterea." The two people are Samson Rights, a man with a full beard and a hairdo that resembles two weeks post buzzcut, and Jason Welker, a redhead that looks somewhere between runway model and biker. Both of them have heavy involvements in the Children of Baldwolf, an organization with ties to numerous white supremacist (and, oddly enough, a burger chain), worshipping
Aug 31 20:59:52 <gumbal1> an entity known as Baldwolf that the file notes has a rather deadly neurotoxin for blood. Welker in particular, the file goes on to note, is a rather notorious hitman, formerly working in a team with his twin sister, Molly, before she split off for undocumented reasons. Samson, meanwhile, is noted to own several projects on the side, including several offshore hotels in the Carribean, one of which, the file notes, has been suspected of human t
Aug 31 20:59:52 <gumbal1> rafficking. "We have a bit of a problem that needs fixing, and these two lie at the heart of the solution."
Aug 31 21:01:45 <Nemi> Attractive redheads. Why is it always attractive redheads? Madeline sighs a moment. She used to be one. But she hated it. ".. white supremacists with a toxic wolf god.. professional murderer an' human traffickers.." A memory of Emily Smith's surges up and Madeline takes a sharp breath. ".. okay."
Aug 31 21:04:38 <gumbal1> Nobody told Dr. Reinman anything he didn't need to know. Even so, a few years in the CIA mean you pick up on certain social cues. "That's very good to hear. Now. This is going to sound peculiar, but I don't actually want you to kill Jason Welker. I want you to become him."
Aug 31 21:06:12 <Nemi> There's a blip, and Jason Welker is sitting across from Reinman. "Now what?" This Welker's look is as bland and blank as Madeline's.
Aug 31 21:12:08 <gumbal1> It earns a soft laugh from Dr. Reinman. "Very good, Mr. Welker. Now. If you'll flip through our friend Samson's file," Further in, there's information on some hostel on some unimportant island in the general USVI area. Sunset Rocks, it's called. "Samson's on a bit of a vacation from occultism for the moment. Checking up on a side project he has going…do you know what I want you to do?"
Aug 31 21:13:12 <Nemi> "I assume you want me to kill him as Welker."
Aug 31 21:15:11 <gumbal1> "Very good. You'll want to do it in an area Mr. Welker would think is safe, but isn't. This won't work if nobody knows it was someone who very much resembled Mr. Welker at the time. I'll leave the rest up to you."
Aug 31 21:17:11 <Nemi> "Okay." 'Welker' looks over the files more closely, trying to commit the island hostel's floorplan to memory. And to see Welker's style, how he kills.
Aug 31 21:20:52 <gumbal1> Clean killing, but that doesn't really imply clean carpets. Welker's not a fan of anything he isn't there for, but he isn't there to cause any real pain, either. A bullet to the forehead or a garrote, rather than rampant stabbing or ricin. The floorplan of the hotel seems to be three floors, spread out into four wings.
Aug 31 21:21:51 <gumbal1> (Northeast, Southeast, Northwest, and Central)
Aug 31 21:25:12 <Nemi> Clean and neat, but up close and personal. Makes sense. Doable.
Aug 31 21:25:24 <Nemi> Where's Samson's usual quarters nad office?
Aug 31 21:27:42 <gumbal1> Northeast corner of central, with a suite reserved on the third floor, directly above. "Before I teleport you out, or you teleport out yourself, I apologize in advance that I cannot send you directly inside. Such a thing would be far too…suspicious for our purposes."
Aug 31 21:28:56 <Nemi> "That's okay. Thanks for the peppermint. I like peppermint.." And with that, Welker's gone, to slip through the dreamlands and to the site.
Aug 31 21:31:12 <gumbal1> (Where in the site?)
Aug 31 21:32:48 <Nemi> Just outside, really. After all, can't just appear in the middle of it.
Aug 31 21:38:32 <gumbal1> …this is a nice place, really. It's nearing summer, and it really shows, what with the nice weather and warm, inviting sun. The architecture is rather nice as well, if confused. White stone with shiny glass windows, brutalist if but for the gargoyle-esque sea sirens addorning parts of the outer wall. The outsides are much like a garden, though one middled by a variety of pretty plants and statuettes seemingly pilfered from various cultures (
Aug 31 21:38:32 <gumbal1> there's a fat Buddha next to a western dragon, for instance). A few well-off looking people mill about, seemingly either bored or waiting for some event to start before heading out.
Aug 31 21:40:45 <gumbal1> One of them, a balding, middle-aged tan man in a tank top and swim shorts, seems to recognize Welker, giving a wave and a smile. A nervous smile.
Aug 31 21:43:00 <Nemi> Welker walks on in, past the statuary and on to the door, compelling a minor quirk of dream logic so that his arrival was just.. normal, not like he jsut showed up out of the air. He lazily returns the smile, easily following into the biker-fashion-model's air of coolness.
Aug 31 21:48:42 <gumbal1> The foyer to the hotel is, well, rather nice, all things considered. It's air conditioned, like any good tropic hotel should be. There's several people, mostly touristy-looking but at least a few suits that might be here on business, milling about the lobby. The receptionist, a short blonde, just out of college from the looks of it, seems pleasent enough, that is, until they see Welker, and just, very briefly, drop their smile and look away, b
Aug 31 21:48:42 <gumbal1> efore turning back and resuming their pleasentry. "Hello, and welcome to the Sunset Rocks."
Aug 31 21:49:32 <gumbal1> There's a mural on the wall, of a large, lobstery serpent being stabbed, St. George style, by a fisherman with a harpoon.
Aug 31 21:51:26 <Nemi> Welker tips an invisible hat and flashes a charming, if cold, grin to the blonde and starts right up the stairs on to the third floor suite. If possible, Welker will attempt to burn some dream logic to hasten his approach to target without being overt- just cull out the intermediary, right?
Aug 31 21:54:03 <gumbal1> Of course. After all, Welker really doesn't need to see the 'under renovation' sign blocking off a second floor hallway, nor feel the horribly malevolent presence that seems to emanate from there.
Aug 31 21:55:21 <gumbal1> The third floor is composed entirely of luxury suites, though of course, the northeast corner gets reserved for the most important of the very important; that is to say, the owner.
Aug 31 21:56:29 <Nemi> Of course he doesn't need to. It's not part of the assignment, and Welker is, if nothing else, a professional. He immediately heads to the northeastern corner, to Samson's door, and tries it. Another bending of dream logic to make it just-so-conveniently unlocked.
Aug 31 22:01:07 <gumbal1> The suite is about the size of a small, middle-income home, and very, very nice indeed. Top of the line furniture, a flatscreen wall tv, and a kitchenette to put most home kitchens to shame. Currently only occupied by a young, dusky girl, perhaps sixteen at the very oldest, currently sitting on the floor and blankly staring at the glass table in the middle of the living room. There's a sudden look up as Welker enters, and a sudden shift of exp
Aug 31 22:01:07 <gumbal1> ression to one of dread…before very suddenly shifting once more to silent panic as the girl stumbles backwards at the unexpected guest.
Aug 31 22:02:27 <Nemi> "Oh, relax," Welker gives his usual charming grin. "Don't you look so scared to see me. Where's Samson?"
Aug 31 22:04:25 <gumbal1> "Oh…oh god oh god I he told me I wouldn't who are you why are you here please don't hurt me…" The verbal panic continues as the girl stumbles back further, away from the mysterious guest.
Aug 31 22:05:11 <Nemi> Welker sighs long-sufferingly, and steps further into the room to neatly hook and shut the door behind him with a foot. "Oh, don't be so scared! I'm just looking for Samson! We need to have a chat."
Aug 31 22:09:54 <gumbal1> She eventually does stop her backing up…as she ends up running out of space to back up against, finding her back against the glass walls dividing living room from bedroom. Her verbal clutter eventually gives way, too, to a steady, heavy breathing, much like one might use to calm down. The girl (who Madeline might have noticed had a Bronx drawl) eventually clears her throat, to speak. "…Mr. Rights…he ain't-oh god, no, I'm sorry…er, he i
Aug 31 22:09:54 <gumbal1> sn't…expecting visitors."
Aug 31 22:11:06 <Nemi> Welker ambles on right afterwards, fully aware of the effect his presence has on people and practically enjoying it. He uses his height and general size to his advantage, leaning in to smile. "Noooo? Not even an old pal?"
Aug 31 22:12:15 <gumbal1> The silent dread seems to come back at those words. "Mr. Rights isn't expecting visitors."
Aug 31 22:13:08 <Nemi> "See, that's just the thing! It wouldn't be a surprise visit if he wasn't expecting me, now would it? Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about anything.. just let me know where he is, huh?" Welker leans in a little more.
Aug 31 22:16:48 <gumbal1> "…no. No, I'm…this is a test, isn't it? I swear I'm good. I'm not like…I'm not like Ashley. I'm not like Ashley."
Aug 31 22:18:11 <Nemi> "No." Welker's mood abruptly evaporates. "It's not a test. And you're not like Ashley, no, but you'll end up like her if you keep /wasting my fucking time/, girl."
Aug 31 22:22:32 <gumbal1> And with that, the girl freezes, perhaps caught between the perfectly reasonable fear that she was about to be rather badly hurt by an intruder, and the other, still reasonable fear that she could end up like Ashley. "I don't…h-h-he's not in this suite, right now. I…" Lisa Carlyle, back before the perfume salesman, liked to think she was a wishful thinker. "…think he's in his office."
Aug 31 22:23:45 <Nemi> And back to smooth, grins and all. "Thanks, Lisa." He doesn't know how he knows the name, other than that it's convenient. "Don't do anything stupid, now, you hear?" He winks and snaps off a lazy, irreverent salute, befure turning to slip out the door. "Because I'll know."
Aug 31 22:24:54 <gumbal1> And the fact that he knows her name tells her everything she (thinks) she needs to know, and she just starts breaking down crying right then and there.
Aug 31 22:27:23 <Nemi> Some part of Welker knows he should feel awful right now. But he has a role to play, as does Lisa, in this little sequence. So it's with a good-natured hum that Welker makes his way back down, beelining for Samson's office.
Aug 31 22:29:36 <gumbal1> There's not much to talk of on the way down. Certainly not a peculiar presence from the second floor hallway, that almost seems to exude a twisted pleasure as it presses against the ceiling, for as much as an incorporeal, malformed presence can exist in three-dimensional space.
Aug 31 22:30:36 <Nemi> Of course not. Not to a perfectly mundane little murderous bastard like Jason Welker. He runs his hand through his red hair and fixes it just right as he walks right for the office and pushes the door open.
Aug 31 22:31:57 <gumbal1> The office door is simple. 'HOTEL MANAGER'. No real name, but none is needed. Samson doesn't need ties to the place beyond his favorite, and Welker doesn't need any evidence of something he already knows. Samson is currently looking something up on his laptop as Jason Welker arrives. "How many times did…Jason?"
Aug 31 22:33:04 <Nemi> Welker shuts the door behind him and grins a charming grin like the offbeat male model he is. "Sammy-boooooy. Been a while, huh? Still breeding ancient evils up on the second floor, huh?"
Aug 31 22:37:19 <gumbal1> And for the first time since he came, the grin is returned genuinely. "No, god no. I swear, natives can't Remnant-proof a place for crap." Shutting the laptop, Samson stands up. "So, watcha here for?"
Aug 31 22:39:10 <Nemi> "Came by, wanted to see what you were up to, how you were doing. You got your girl Lisa upstairs reeeal well-trained, gotta say. Always were good at that. And, reminds me, I got something for ya-" Welker pauses to reach inside his leather jacket, incongruous given the climate, frowns, and pats at his pockets. "Shit, where'd I put that.."
Aug 31 22:42:59 <gumbal1> "I gotta hide the key better, if you were able to get…" 'Got something for ya'. Samson blinks, perhaps somewhat worried that a professional hitman that appeared rather unexpectedly used those exact words. Although, as soon as Welker begins having trouble with his gift, a bit of that edge returns. "A gift? You shouldn't have." Hands over the side, Samson leans over the desk.
Aug 31 22:45:18 <Nemi> Welker continues fumbling, moving now to pat at his pants pockets. "Oh, come on, don't tell me- come all this way just to surprise you and .. Damn. Must be having an off day. Ah, well." He reaches inside his coat now, making a show of poking around the inside pockets.
Aug 31 22:48:32 <gumbal1> Samson lets out a hearty laugh, though stays where he is. "A damn shame. You mind spoiling the surprise, if it ain't with you?"
Aug 31 22:50:49 <Nemi> Are there any security cameras or similar to witness the scene?
Aug 31 22:53:38 <gumbal1> And why would Samson let himself be recorded on anything but his own terms?
Aug 31 22:53:47 <gumbal1> That is to say, the laptop has a webcam.
Aug 31 22:54:54 <Nemi> One that, from the sound of it, was broadcasting sound AND video. Great. "Ah, wait, found it!" Welker quickdraws an unmarked, serial-stripped and suppressed Glock 44 and shoots Samson in the head, then twice in the chest for kill-confirm.
Aug 31 22:56:15 <Nemi> With Sammy-boy leaning over the desk there's not many places for him to go.
Aug 31 22:57:49 <gumbal1> Samson, for all his fancy shmancy occultist work, is still human, and his rejection of ascension to priesthood only furthers that fact. He goes down as expected. Another notch on a trained killer's gun.
Aug 31 22:58:36 <Nemi> And with that, Welker slides the pistol back into his jacket, leans down to pick up the spent brass with one cuff of his undershirt to protect his fingers, then strolls out whistling a cheery tune.
Aug 31 22:58:41 <Nemi> Cold as ice.
Aug 31 23:00:27 <gumbal1> Nobody's gonna notice for a bit. The boss doesn't want to be disturbed, after all. Perhaps little miss Carlyle will be slightly thankful not to be interrupted for the rest of the night.
Aug 31 23:01:16 <Nemi> Perhaps. Welker doesn't much care now. He ambles his way on out of the hotel, being his charming self, and once off the grounds disperses.
Aug 31 23:01:31 <Nemi> Madeline will reappear outside Reinman's a moment later, and knock gently.
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Aug 31 23:02:42 <gumbal1> "Oh, come in."
Aug 31 23:03:11 <Nemi> The door creaks open and a Madeline peeks in, still hollow-eyed. "It's done." That wasn't long.
Aug 31 23:05:43 <gumbal1> "Oh! Excellent to hear." Dr. Reinamn, having just finished signing off some paperwork, looks over with a smile. "I trust everything went well. Anything you want to tell me?"
Aug 31 23:06:57 <Nemi> ".. there's a few people on his island. A girl named Lisa Carlyle. I don't know what he did to her but she was scared. But.. no. It was clean and easy." Madeline's sitting on the chair across from Reinman now, staring blankly at him. "He's breeding Remnants, or something, too. Second floor of the central wing. I thought that might be useful information."
Aug 31 23:07:09 <Nemi> She didn't move through the intervening space.
Aug 31 23:09:22 <gumbal1> "If you don't have any legal proof of wrongdoing, it will be hard to have the law crack down on his little business. However, Remnant breeding is a very serious problem. I'll see what I can do." All spoken with that kindly tone of the cool, soft-spoken teacher.
Aug 31 23:10:33 <Nemi> ".. Okay. But I made Welker's arrival visible, his intent to visit his friend known, and Rights' webcam was running and recording. It should be very visible."
Aug 31 23:13:39 <gumbal1> "Oh, excellent indeed." The paperwork is filed away, though Reinman briefly mouthes something about a 'Jane Doe' and 'where the hell did this come from' in the process. "That will be all, thank you."
Aug 31 23:14:12 <Nemi> "Okay." Madeline stands and takes another peppermint. She turns for the door.
Aug 31 23:16:26 <gumbal1> Dr. Reinman nods, and gets back to work. Lespiaux or Taylor could deal with whatever came from this.
Aug 31 23:16:46 <Nemi> Madeline's gone. The door didn't even open or shut.
Aug 31 23:17:49 <gumbal1> ~EVENT ENDED~
Aug 31 23:17:56 <gumbal1> ~NPC KILLED: SAMSON RIGHTS~
Aug 31 23:18:12 <gumbal1> ~NPC FRAMED FOR MURDER: JASON WELKER~
Aug 31 23:18:21 <gumbal1> ~BALDWOLF LIVES~
Aug 31 20:28:42 <gumbal1> -B A L D W O L F-