Difference between revisions of "Log:Missing Children"

13 June, 2018

As of Friday three young boys (Barthelemey, Jean-Baptiste, and Edgar) have gone missing in the lower foothills of the Salvation. While them, their family, and friends were out hiking a sudden storm hit, and during it all the children somehow got separated. Mortal authorities have had no luck as of yet

Lower Foothils

The more mortal authorities have departed since the fall of night. Things have been difficult to track as of the last few days. The only things to be found are a few toys, and a fat lot of good that it's done for the dogs and volunteers. There's been nary a trace of the children that they've been able to find beyond the toys, and word is still out that help is needed. They haven't been gone a week, but have now been missing for five days.

Things aren't raining tonight, but it doesn't proove to be the most pleasant evening. This far away from the farmlands and roads the only light to come is that of brilliance from the witch's moon. The cacophonic chorus of nature sings in the night amid chirps from crickets, the hooting of owls, and the occasional barking from a canine somewhere out there.

Audrey had been following this all - through the chatter of social media, the anguished pleas of parents on the local news, and the overheard mutter of concerned-but-a-little-perversely-too-interested gossip of the patron at the bar. One child going missing is always a shock but three? Already the local grist mill is grinding out wild speculations and theories overtime. And that's annoying.

And this annoyance has driven Audrey out to the woods tonight to help. It's not at all because her own feelings of helplessness about Cross' disapperance are fueling this focus. She pulls in a breath, pulling up the zipper of the jacket she threw on at the list minute an inch higher and looks up to contemplate the moon a moment. "Well that ain't all foreboding or nothing," she mutters as she paces forward, listening to the symphonic chorus of the wood's animal night crew and toeing at the ground with her shoes as if that'll turn something up.

The path Audrey starts from looks to be one walked today. It leads on for what feels like an hour if not a bit more. This far out she can hear the howls of the wild more than the dogs back near the farms. Birds flit and move at the sight of her, although a single owl does watch her. It seems to be following her movements, the spotted thing keeping up with her every step of the way.

Audrey eyes shift up to the owl that's shadowing her. "Well aren't you a beauty," she offers in something like respectful admiration, her glancing smile friendly but not overly so. She keeps walking though - a few paces on, perhaps the feeling that perhaps the owl isn't the only thing watching might be nudging just a touch at whatever feelings of paranoia she might have about being alone in the woods. A few steps more and Audrey pauses, taking up a post at a tree just off the already walked path. Leaning back into the tree, her hand fishes her vaporizer out of her jacket pocket. The blue light switched on, her head lifts to triangulate just where this owl has gotten to. "I might need to take a break. Maybe don't do something weird to my hair while I'm doing the thing?" She grins wryly, speaking upwards into the canopy.

"Some might think so," comes from above. However, a look at the owl only gets a very loud, if not angry, hoot. As she moves through the wood things seem to shift and change. The shadows longer, and the darkness greater. The owl, for its part, just stays there - staring at her.

"Well shiiiit." It's more impressed than fearful but noteably a pause is taken in Audrey's voice. Her thumb clicks off the vaporizer for the moment, no need to waste a perfectly good battery. She pushes off the tree, coming back on to the path and tries to face the direction of the voice from above. Without really meaningful triangulation, she's just turning in a circle. Stupid mortals and their unimproved senses. "So. Uh. I don't mean you any harm-" She begins, gesturing slightly with the lighter in no particular way. "And let's face it, I probably couldn't do you much harm but I don't intend to make this weird, if you don't?"

The owl repositions itself on that branch, simply staring down at Audrey. It turns its head around while, staring at something behind it. It shifts again on that branch, preeing its feathers for a few moments. "It's always weird here," the voice comes again, this time from her right. "If anything you're weird, you weirdo." This time the words come from her side.

"Right?" Audrey's agreement stated with consensus about how /weird/ this town is in mind. "A month ago, I was in Missouri and now I own a bar. So, like, what the fuck?" The question is more rhetorical, but the edgy notes of concern for just what's going on evident in her effort to keep it casual. "But I don't think I'm /that/ weird. Sure, a little but-" Her hand bobs back and forth in a 'so-so' motion. "I guess I could try harder though." Her eyes shift up to the owl, gaze trying to track the direction the words come from but in her limited capacity... failing and that unease in the way her shoulders are beginning to hinge upwards is getting obvious. "So uh. Please don't hurt me?"

"That's what I mean, weirdo," the voice responds. The owl hoots again, as if responding to the affirmative. "You can't always look for what's in front of you. Some times its to the side." With every word the voice comes from somewhere else. Eventually, it seemingly settles behind her as freezing cold hair blows at the back of her neck. "Other times its right in front of your face." Again, the owl hoots.

"Bro." It's the International Order of Protest's Favorite Word. This stated a little too loudly, a little too quickly after the cold air hits her neck and she's jumping in a slight whirl around to keep up. Of course, she's not keeping up. "Damn, dude, so uncool." The owl gets this shade thrown its way, as she stares more intently now around the area.

Staring her right in her face is nothing beyond the light she shines and the darkness beyond. However, in the blink of an eye she can sit. Him? Her? The voice is fairly neutral, young, and difficult to distinguish. In that millisecond she can mamke out the shape of something human in the light, but the most memorable part of that bit of clarity are those yellow eyes and that fanged smile.

"Seven? Is that you?" Audrey leans forward, wincing just a little further into the night. "Where'd you leave your Dowtown Abbey fuckbucket accent at?" The extent of Audrey's experience of changelings with fangs laid bare, apparently. "C'mon, bro, if your here about those kids too - just get your ass out here?"

"Seven?" the voice returns. "Is that how you're gonna count, or just your favorite number?" A hoot comes again, and then a tap at her shoulder."And I rather like my accent," says the voice of a native. "Or is that the next one they're gonna take after they get you, hmm?"

Audrey jumps, the tap on her shoulder sending a chill down her spine and the girl shivers accordingly. "Nah, just someone I know...," she hedges, a little more uneasily now. Her eyes go up to the owl once more, her expression pleading for a moment. C'mon dude, why? Her hand jam uncomfortably into her jacket pockets, listening. "Oh well joke's on you, man. I've got a plan to bust someone out of there." Bravado met with slightly less assured bravado but an attempt all the same, her expression becoming less at ease with the situation by the minute.

"Someone you know?" it asks. "You got some TNT in there, or you know how to find an arch? You know why the arches matter?" A chuckle comes, and the owl matches it beat for beat. "The more we talk I think the easier it'll be for them to find us, but it won't be the same. Remember what I said about sideways?"

"Only the best person I've ever met." It probably doesn't intend to be lippy but... it might just be. It's convicted and convinced, the best person has been sent to Arcadia jail and that's clearly just not acceptable in her eyes. "What about arches? Sideways?" Audrey's not tracking and then she is, or at least trying to. "You said it's not in front of me but to the side..." Her feet take her a doe-see-doe sideways, as if its that simple.

Taking that extra step gets her nothing more than another laugh and a hoot from the owl. The owl eventually takes off to the northwest, and further away from civilization. "If you keep that up you might hit a tree, and I heard that it kinda hurts. But, you almost got it. Almost. Sideways when you see the arch, but don't tell anyone Hezekiah said anything. Or, I'll know."

Audrey frowns, the genius of oversimplification not simple at all. Still. "Who am I going to tell?" There's kind of a honesty to that question, her shoulders shrugging upwards. "I generally don't get all weird and start talking about shit like this in public. Also? That name is some straight Bible shit right there." She grins, apparently appreciative? "And uh, so there's two of you then?" Her feet reshuffle her back to the center of the trail, she pauses a minute and then apparently wanting of a seat, she just sort of sits down right there.

"The Bible's junk. Read Vicar of Wakefield. Trust me. It'll do you some good, and might even prepare you for your future." THe voice laughs, and with that comes a cold wind worse than those from the winter. Seconds pass, and those too turn to minutes as she now remains in silence save the usual sounds out here.

Audrey zipped up her jacket more, face burrowing slightly downwards against the cold that's picking up. Her mortal body notes the cold and does its best to keep her alive, biological responses being what they are. Her teeth find a chatter as she shifts and huddles into the sitting position she's in. "Jesus," she mutters, the second act star of said Bible now held responsible for cold this is. But she waits... waits for the voices to continue but when seconds pass to minutes in silence, she's frowning. "Well damn, I guess I gotta work for it then?"

She indeed does have to work for it. In the time it takes for her to begin the noises of the forest become dull, secondary. When she's finished she can see at least a glance of what's on the other side. Many of the spirits seen are those of nature. Trees, the earth itself, and several dozen animals. Most odd of all is that much farther north she sees soemthing of violence beginning to form.

"Hofuck," Audrey mutters, adjusting to the transition. She blinks into the environs, noting the assembled spirits. The urge to wave repressed down, it seems not the time to be mistaken as that weirdo the voice earlier was calling her. The urge not to get overlyfriendly with the sight of something violent just ahead. "Hofuck." She mutters this, more quietly a second time and picks herself up to stand. There's a hesitation about leaving herself behind, a concerned glance over her shoulder at what looks like Audrey slumped over on the trail. A silent reassurance that she can just run back to herself if its get pearshaped before she takes a few steps forward, trying to get a better view of the problem ahead.

It takes her a bit of time to cover that distance, but travelling in such a way does have teh advantage of not dealing with the impeding terrain. The spirits there are small, and already competing for whatever slight control they can muster. Motes. Tiny beings marking the beginning of a shift or addition of the places normal resonance.

What does Audrey know about motes? Uh, well, she can see them. So that's one thing. That they seem to have agendas, that's another? But her education into the spiritual flip side has been largely crowdfunded by crash landing into things. What kind of witch have these people been raising? So, it isn't without question that she's stopping to observe these tiny motes, her urge to touch one at least arrested even if her fingers do go out towards one before she pulls her hand away. "Well.. I'm gonna guess this ain't normal," she says, the mote spoken to with, with an air that expects not result back.

The motes are weak to be sure, and without any true form of rank or power. They are, however, beings made of strife and pain. They haven't gained much power, and betray whatever act that happened here in the skin world was sudden and hasty.

Audrey frowns deeper, the way the motes radiate this palpable understanding of what they are: bad things clear to her now. "Well, fuck." She states with a sort of finality, eyes marking the spot in the shadow where whatever happened... likely to the boys went on. It takes a moment, the lightbulb on a slight delay. "Oh /fuck/," she spits out practically, her conclusion forming up. "Those motherf-," she states in low, dense tones that are more anxious than angry. "Really? Kids? You gotta take kids?" She asks, loudly. The odiousness of the prospect of theory in her tone.

The motes all turn to Audrey when she shouts. They were ignoring her initially, but then she seems to be shrouded in equally strong emotions that would've caused the incident here. In turn, they try to take a bite out of her. They look jet black snakes floating and swiming on air, and when they try to make a snack of her they may as well bit tickling her arm.

"HeywhoafucknopeNOPE." Even if they don't hurt, its still not necessarily within the realm of acceptable or cool that the motes are now redirecting their attention. Her arm noodles around in the air, in panick like she's trying to get shake off a spider that dropped down from on high on to her. It's all doing wonderfully, most likely at giving them more to want for just like Audrey wants something, which is to leave. She's already backing up, trying to run. This is probably a terrible idea.

The spirits are far too weak to hold on, and thus they are shaken free easily. They attempt to give chase, but the only result is proving themselkves a decent meal. Something a fair bit larger, looking like a stag, takes them within its mouth and after a few seconds nothing else of them reminds. THe stag spirit, however, is staring down the departing Audrey. As she tries to run she can hear the sounds of beating hooves right behind her. The spirit gains on her with every second until she finds her way back to her body, and upon doing so felt the slightest brush against her back.

"What the shit." In terms of classy re-awakenings, this one is: not. Audrey had slumped over, half curled up in the middle of the trail in a position that no one would regard as delicate. She was like a tipped over flour sack in a jacket that's now stumbling to its feet. "What /the/ shit." She repeats to the space where that stag should have been, the ghost of feeling where it just made the slightest contact still there as her hand tries to find the spot. The limitations of human arms and how far they reach sends bending over and twisting into a less than classy configuration as her fingers grope for it. "Hey Hezekiah, you got a pet deer?" Her question, sent out into the night air and the forest surroudnings, rattled but expecting somehow little reply.

There's no answer from Hezekiah. Instead she's met by the sound of a canine howling off in the distance. However, there aren't any wolves around in the state. Coyotoes are another matter. While she can't see ir or Hezekiah she can't shake an even great feeling of something watching her as she stands alone in the darkness.

That overwhelming sense of urgency bares down her that can't be confused for anything but an immediate need to leave. And quickly. She turns, pace picking up. The urge to run challenged by the feeling of eyes on her that feel like she might give chase if her feet relax into the panick that wants to be fully experienced. She slumps down into the confines of her jacket, trying to become less of herself as she heads back the way she came.

As Audrey beats feet she can still feel that precence. Not just watching, but following the young woman along. When she reaches the spot where the motes were in the hisil she sees a bit of kicked up dirt still stuck as it is in the mud. In front of that she can make out the branches of two trees intertwining, and in turn creating a natural archway.

Sideways through the arch was it? You sort of don't forget disembodied voices leaving specific yet cryptic instructions lying around about how to proceed. And well, the archway is obvious. "Shit." Audrey breathes out, half amazement and half annoyance that she missed it before somewhow. She looks around, into the chilly dark and then huffs out a sigh. The better judgment of this moment would be to go home and come back in the daylight with others. But what if its not here when she comes back? Her expression twists in a sort of annoyance and anxiousness, the small voice in her head telling her to go home, go home you dumb bi-

Her whole body tenses as her eyes screw themselves shut, bracing for disaster. Audrey turns sideways, and stabs her hand right into the center mass of the air of the archway.