Act 1, Scene 2: Divers Alarums [Another Kind of Poetry]

To Liam

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The courthouse is, clearly abandoned, you can tell that without even looking at the grafitti (the traditional affair of skulls, squiggles - some sort of animal, maybe? - the occasional obscenity and various names.


The steps leading up to it are cracked and clogged with weeds, the railings rusted. The pillars are pitted and similarly scrawled with more spray paint and permanent marker. It's also obviously older than it would seem - there's an honest-to-god decaying gargoyle hidden away up at the back, tucked into the left corner. Possibly some sort of gutter.


...there doesn't seem to be any obvious way in. Oh, well, the door, of course, but that's locked tight and very much not out of sight. Everyone on the street and, heck, the hotel lobby, can see you. They're not looking at you, but they will doubtlessly do something if they see you breaking and entering.
 
To Jack


An old Georgian terraced house, much the same as its neighbours and very much in need of some decent repair, and yet there's something different about it, something that marks it out. A pulse, if you will.


To Theo


There's some weirdo staring at your house.
 
Liam Moore


"Well that's that, I suppose. No real way in." "I'm sure everything will work out alright. "Aren't you cheery this morning?" "We have a mysterious adventure tonight. I'm curious now." "Right, guess I'd better get home, do some unpacking. Big night."


Liam will head home for now. He'll finally finish unpacknig the apartment, do some writing, and return to the hotel at dusk. The plan being to see if anyone comes out of the courthouse, and see who enters the hotel.
 
Theo Harvey


Harvey watches the stranger from his upstairs window for a brief moment before recognizing what, if not who, he is.


A felllow Bound, and looking a bit lost. Hm. Well, he was going to breakfast...


Presently Harvey emerges from the house, a little overdressed perhaps but at least in modern attire, and waves cheerily to the... ye gods, how do Americans manage to look American?


"Good morning."
 
"Ah, mornin'." Jack said, extending his hand for a firm shake. "Didn't think I'd run into any out here."


'Any' was obvious enough. "You in business?"
 
Theo Harvey


Harvey shakes back firmly, smiling.


"Not personally, no. Theophilius Harvey, a pleasure to meet you."
 
"Oh, sorry. I'm Mahieu. Jack Mahieu. Completely pleased." He turned towards the other man with a smile, that embarassed sort of smile you gave before you took advantage of someone's position. In this case, a native versus non-native.


"Hey, I'm new in town--uh..." His body followed the movement of his head, so he was facing Theo straight on. "You know, I figure I've got to Eat while I'm here."


A pause. "Like, ghosts. I mean--you don't just sit around with the...Library Policeman? Or whoever all day, do you?"
 
Theo Harvey


What curious turn of phrase this man had.


"Ah, pardon me, I misunderstood," Harvey's clipped, educated tones warming, "Presently I am not in the business of... spiritual facilitation. However, once I have restored this house to some degree of comfort, I may look into assembling a krewe - I have never been a man to follow the leader. Would you care to join me for breakfast, Mr. Mahieu?"
 
Theo Harvey


"I... doubt it. We shall have to see." With that, Harvey motions to Jack to walk with him as he sets off towards a pleasant café a few streets away. "I'm considering turning the house into a B&B - Bed & Bound, if you like. A stable node in the Twilight Network, as much as anything else. Tell me, Mr. Mahieu, what brings you to Limerick?"
 
"Work." He said, somewhat lamely. "After I 'died', I guess my attitude sorta changed around the office. We're an international company, and a branch was opening here. So here I am."


"Bed and Bound, though, huh? That's clever. We should get a white hearse and slap a logo on it. Who ya gonna call, right?"
 
Theophilius Harvey


Harvey stops dead in his tracks, expression blank - and suddenly throws his head back, laughter echoing up the street. He claps his hand onto Jack's back as the laughter subsides, starting to walk again.


"Aha, oh, Mr. Mahieu, certainly, if you should tire of piloting a desk... " Harvey chuckles.
 
"Oh, of course. If they didn't pay me so much, I'd have quit to just go ghost huntin' all the time. But I have a pretty solid job and it keeps Mr. Grieves happy. Well...as happy as he gets, anyway. What do you do? I mean, aside from this house."
 
Harvey


"Oh... precious little. I'm a scholar, for want of a better term. Able to go 'ghost hunting' all of the time."
 
Jack cracked open a small smile--not one of humor, but one of worry. "H--"


He coughed into his hands. Best not to worry about finances at a time like this, and it was especially rude to ask a stranger about things of the sort. He caught himself interested in a passing building as they made their way on down towards the cafe. "I...think my office is around here."


Although, he didn't really sound certain. "I used Google, so..."
 
To Jack


Unfortunately it'll take you another ten minutes to find it, only to discover it had been situated right across the road all along - how embarrassing. In your defence all the buildings look similar (aged red brick, invariably). Still, at least you know someone living nearby now.
 
"Well...this is me." Jack said, pointing at the familiar logo on the door. "Is it cool if I come by during lunch?"


He reached into his chest pocket and produced a small business card, nodding at Theo as he handed it over. "Give me a call and I'll add you to my phone and all. Look me up if you need help with anything."
 
Theo Harvey


"Well, thank you, Mr. Mahieu. A pleasure to meet you. You may certainly feel free to visit at lunch. Take care."
 
Yawn.


Jack was lighting a filterless cigarette, the soft orange glow illuminating his pallor white skin. The crack, sizzle, and pop of the motion echoed off of the wall of his office. He watched as one of the Irish men who had been working here for a few weeks locked up, and gave him a firm handshake and watched him walk away. It had been a pretty normal day, on all accounts--he punched his proverbial time card, sat in front of a computer, and made a few phone calls as he got used to the new system. At lunch, with Theo, maybe they talked a bit, maybe not--at that time, Jack was obviously a bit drained from the rush of new information he was getting from work. After lunch, he and a few of the Irish boys--Jack was the only non-Irish in the whole office--took someone's car and drove far outta town to do some field work. They arrived just fifteen minutes ago and called it a night.


He dropped his spent match as he reached for his phone in his breast pocket, flipping it open. "Nine thirty." He mumbled to himself, clicking his tongue. His phone still claimed he was international. Maybe the plan would flip over as they past midnight. He tucked the phone away, dismissively, and took an other drag. Somewhere between his mind and a gunshot a thousand miles away, Mr. Grieves followed the motion, mimicking it, relishing in the sheer simple pleasure of hot smoke and nicotine.


Jack, on the other hand, felt restless. Unlike Grieves, who was desperate to live up the new life he was piggy-backing on, Jack felt compelled to sit his stake down in this city. He was a Gatekeeper, he would patrol the gate, regardless of the political borders that surrounded him. Last night, he had been lazy. This morning, he had been relaxed. He had been bored at work.


He'd be determined, tonight.


He crossed the street and slinked towards Theo's crappy-ass house, and have a rap on the door.


When answered-- "Bro. Let's do our job." A quick smile, a smoldering cigarette tipped up with the shape of his lips, aged and broken aviator goggles sat on his head--and the drip, drip of a hundred victim's blood slid down his face and hair.


Businessman, out. Bound--in.
 
Liam Moore


After finally unpacking everything, and getting a bite around 5:30, Liam decides to make his way to the hotel. Grabbing his kevlar vest, he thinks can't be too careful now and throws it on under a shirt and suit jacket. He doesn't bother with a tie, but grabs his overcoat and cap. Eventually making his way to the hotel. He sets himself up where he can watch the comings and goings without looking too suspicious, and lets the hours roll by.


6:30...nothing


7:30...nothing


around 8, when it was clear that his 'friend' from the night before wasn't coming out, Liam gets a bit restless and takes a walk. So, You're going in then. Her voice has a hint of concern in it. "Yep. Looks like. I've gotta find out what this is all about. 'Sides, now I know what to expect if she's there...It'll be fine." "If you say so. And I would like to know what's going on." "That settles it then." Around 9:30, He'll finish his stroll and make for the lobby. As he get within a block or so, he'll reach inside for the right key, pull Cassie close, and with a passion not his own, draw her in.


(spend 1 plasm to activate Passion Caul


Results for 12 dice: 2 successes [ 2 6 2 4 1 4 2 8 9 1 7 3 ]=+2 dice on Int,empathy,intimidation,persuasion,socialize,subterfuge rolls)
 
To Liam


There's a young woman manning the front desk, as contradictory as that thought process might be. She's attractive in a professional sort of way, with a bright smile that nevertheless rings a little emptily. "Good evening sir," she pipes cheerfully, "how can I help you?"
 
Liam pulls out the letter from this morning and gives it a lookover. "Perfect. No room number..." Should have thought of that before you walked in. "Yea,yea,yea I know." "Hello there, miss. I'm supposed ta be meetin' someone here. No need to bother yerself. Just, could ya point me to the bar?" He says with a smile.


Once he gets the direction, he'll head over and order a stout. He makes sure to keep an eye on the lobby if he can.
 
To Liam


"Oh." She'll arch an eyebrow at you, the pleasant and professional façade dropping for a moment. "Would you be here for the private party?"
 
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