Log:Blood On The Leaves:Body Snatching

Blood On The Leaves:Body Snatching
"Are we alone?"
Participants Teagan, Vorpal, Edmond, ST	2017.11.01 Two teams go in to snatch a body. And things get weird. Part of the Blood On The Leaves plot.
Location Fort Brunsett Facilities
It's a cold and rainy Halloween night. The department has had a lot of calls about people scaring kids. Pranks. You get the drill. It's Halloween in a small City! One that had been all but a bit hush hush since they pulled a dead body from the Stagbridge. One that had been put up there with a note for...someone? A group maybe. No one really knew. There's currently a few people getting hauled into lockup at the moment. A few unruly college age kids who look like they had way too much to drink. The medical facilities are at the back of the building, but only accessible to non personnel via the front. Vorpal has been hanging about for a while, enjoying the rare absence of his effect on people. Even his Mask can't swallow the Sublime effect he has on poor mortals, but the ultimate in Smoke magickology? Hell yea, that does it. He's spent a while observing the back entrance, happily invisible, and faintly grumpily decided the door is unlikely to be opened anytime soon. He could magick his way through it... but with the powers of Smoke being so infinitely delightful right now? Why hurry? He meanders around to the front entrance and just slipped in alongside one of the drunk college kids getting hauled in for booking. Edmond's got one glove in his mouth and the hand it belongs to with its wooden fingers dug into the earth, peering over at the building from the back, hiding in a copse of trees. He hasn't noticed Vorpal, obviously; he pulls on his connection with the soil to activate its armor and damage capability. The stars on his face glitter for a moment, and he stands up swiftly and carefully, pulling his glove back on and adjusting his top hat jauntily. "Room's unoccupied," he whispers, and then sprints for the back door, asking the wind to aid his stealth. Doodly doodly doo. Who even is Teagan? There's no Teagan here, there's just... Bob. Yeah, Bob. Sure, let's go with Bob. Bob is a generic face-in-the-crowd bro, little scruff, short blonde hair, blue eyes. The clothes are generic, too, because Teagan dresses super generic (except for the machete which, yes, is still underneath their long coat. It's totally legal to carry that around in Vermont, even concealed. But the Mantle is, to other Lost, at least easy to recognize if you've met Teagan before: heat upon heat with the crackles of radio static playing through, calls never answered. They wander casually up next to Edmond. Doodly doo. Nothing to see, just some guy. When Edmond sprints off, though? The strange face isn't enough. 'Bob' casually rounds the corner, looking for cameras, and a place to not have the cameras, so they can 'ghost out,' as they say. As Teagan-Bob rounds the corner they catch sight of two camera lenses. Vorpal's gotten in a bit easier, but it's a bit more hectic on the inside. And brighter. Damn the lights in the place. But there are signs in the place that at least point the directions to where the medical facilities are and he can float right on in with the crowd. Or well. The drunks. PING. That was some magic. Some fairy magic. He is not alone here! Still, it's not nearby, and they oughtn't be able to notice him, so... table that. Vorpal glances at the signs and nods to himself, starting to weave his way through the traffic in the hallways, easily swerving and veritably dancing between the residents of the building, making his way to the morgue. Might as well follow the signs. Nearing the end of his stealthy run toward the RESTRICTED TO PERSONNEL entrance, the lunatic in the cape and mask shoves his connection with reality away in order to just literally run through the locked door and hope his timing is good enough to miss anyone on the way between that door and where the body is. Vorpal comes to the elevators down to the lower reaches of the facility. And there's also stairs down. Edmond would soon be reaching this point. So. There's a choice to make here. Do you want to take the elevator or do you want to take the stairs? It won't last forever -- a full minute at most -- but it'll do. Not-Teagan scurries in, following people, dodging doors, trying to catch up with everyone now that they've verified the lack of cameras. Of course, they can't tell where the others are. The difficulties of Smoke, man. Down the stairs they go. Nobody to talk his way out of yet-- and hey there's not-Teagan, too, good. Again, the earth-and-sky in the tuxedo and top hat pushes reality away, but only a little bit this time. Enough that he can jump down the stairs past Teagan and land weightlessly at the bottom, glance back and flash them a shit-eating grin as his cape billows and drifts down around him, and skulk off ahead. PING. There it is again! Two this time. Did he miss one earli- wait, no. The second one is gone. Hm. Suspicious. No matter. Vorpal pauses at the stairs and elevator, considering before- It's really very difficult to hide from someone you can't see. Edmond is fantastically stealthy, no doubt, but when a person is pondering going down the very stairs your sneaky self just whipped down, perfectly timed to avoid everyone ELSE'S gaze? Well, now there's something to follow. Wherever is not-Endymion headed? This is the question Vorpal seeks to answer as he heads down the stairs in Tuxedo Telluric's tremendously acrobatic wake. The demon Mantle is kind of a giveaway. Teagan would never think of their Mantle that way buuuut it is sort of a creepy 'heat and radio static' hellishness. Oops. Anyway, the crackle-crackle follows Edmond down the stairs, if somewhat more slowly, because some people don't have Separation okay. Down the stairs they go. And does it get darker as they get to the basement? Maybe it's just a trick of the light? But all three of them definitely feel a bit watched. But there's really nothing there. Maybe it's just paranoia of stealing a body of Halloween night? The door opens to the basement level and it's decidedly...empty. There is a sign that reads 'MORGUE' down the way though. Thank god for signs! "Fuck," breathes Edmond, pressing against the doorframe. He squints into the darkness, hard, and can't detect anything. "I feel like we're being watched. But in for a bloody penny, right?" He straightens up and strides forward, shoulders squared beneath that cape, and silently looks around the room to see if there are convenient tables with corpses on them or if this is a refrigerated-drawers scenario. We? Ah, so the second blip wasn't just imagined. OR the fellow's crazy. Both are possible. Either way, they're going his way, and Vorpal isn't about to step into the light, so to speak- ESPECIALLY now that he can feel something staring down his supposed-to-be-invisible neck. He keeps on Edmond's heels, a good few paces back and against the wall in case someone comes running from one direction or the other. The Hell Mantle stays back a bit, because -- as Teagan promised -- they're watching everyone's backs. There's no one down on this level. Apparently they do have normal working hours and normal lives for the holiday. The place is decorated with paper skeletons and sparkling pumpkins with glittering eyes. There's little black and orange streamers everywhere. It looks more like a 1980's school hallway than a medical hallway. But, it's in need of updating. And once they get through the door they are met with a rather clean twelve door morgue. It's not a big place and from the chart there's only three bodies in at the moment. Number three would be the man that was hung from the bridge. There's paperwork on him as well. Edmond produces a keychain flashlight from somewhere inside his tuxedo jacket and goes to look at the paperwork first. "Can you see if there are any bodybags, in case she's not in one? It's... awfully convenient that the papers are right here..." he whispers only just audibly. They get picked up, folded, and pocketed after a brief once-over, and he steps silently and weightlessly toward door number three. His gloved hand reaches out to open it carefully, the feeling of being watched weighing on him heavily. Nope. Definitely someone else here. Someone else he can't sense. Which -suggests- they're using the trick he's using, since he doesn't know any other ways to dodge Kenning so thoroughly. Vorpal slips into the room and stays with Edmond. If he's near the Telluric, he should be able to hear if the other invisible fellow speaks up. Fellow? Could be a lass, he supposes. Or neither. Or both! 'Bob' chillin', like the villain they can be sometimes, watching they butts. Metaphorically. Whoever works in this office is...meticulous. Everything is labelled. So finding body bags isn't a hard thing. Or other medical things one might need. Anyone need tubes?! ...there's no answer and there's no presence he can tell other than the Being Watched, so Edmond presses his lips into a thin line and casts about in the dark-- then with his keychain flashlight-- and finds the body bags in their drawer. He cautiously unzips it on his way back over to drawer number three, then pulls it open and sees the poor dead girl; he bites his lip, then lays the body bag on the floor, open, and reaches to lift her out of the drawer, mantle flaring with heat and a cicada hum as he calls on the Wyrd for the strength to make the job easy. Vorpal looms invisibly behind Edmond, checking on the body. He hadn't got a good look before, and there's been a lot of questions as to what manner of Changeling she'd been, how she'd been killed and such things. Might as well get a look! The prince of earth and sky bundles the corpse into the body bag as reverently as he possibly can, and zips it up while actively apologizing softly in a rollingly lyrical language that fits his accent even better than English does; he even more gently lifts her up into his arms and stands. There's another brief rise in temperature and whiff of low-pressure atmosphere as Vorpal's pinger pings again: another contract. Then, whispered in English, "If you're here, tell me about what happened? On the way out." He glances around, then starts walking toward the door, absently praying for her under his breath. The paperwork is for a twenty seven year old Anne Marie Tennyson. She was married, but no kids. Husband had been in to ID the body. But not much else. The body was to be released to Nightingale Mortuary after the investigation for final services for family. Thump. Edmond runs into Vorpal's palm, held out- and NOT pointy at the moment, more's the favor- dead smack in the middle of his chest as he starts trying to leave. "A moment, friend," murmurs Vorpal, almost under his breath, "But are you planning to just -walk out- with her body? There are far more reasonable ways to make an exit. Ones that don't show up in cameras, no less. Wait just a moment. Let me get you a door to someplace with a different flavor of risk than "years in prison," shall I? You've already interrupted my plans to retrieve her, at least allow me to manage the escape." Vorpal's voice is smooth, invasively confident, and bears an edge that says this isn't REALLY a request. For 'Bob'? That is most assuredly a God of the Hunt chatting up Tuxedo Telluric over there. At least it sounds just like him- nothing to see, really. It would have been 'okay let's get out of here' if Nightingale Mortuary actually meant anything to Edmond; another hilarious side effect of the Telluric not having been in the area long, or even belonging to the freehold. Either way, Edmond stops short at the voice and the hand on his chest; the first thing he does is glance down swiftly to make damn sure the hand touching him isn't bloody. Then he scowls. "I don't walk," he hisses with as much offended dignity as he can muster, taking a step back and moving the body away from where the hand's at his chest; his arms curl around the dead girl protectively. Man. A convenient door out would be super SUPER convenient. But a) this invisible person touched him, b) this invisible person is giving him order-suggestions, and c) this invisible person is dissing his skillz. And also d) Edmond is stubborn as fuck and as proud as a king. "I'll be fine thank you. How do I know you are not the person who did this to her? How do I know you are not hoping to trick me into letting you do the same to me? Please get out of my way." "... are- are you being serious?" There's honest confusion in the voice's response. "Are you seriously asking somebody -you cannot see- whether they are just trying to trick you into letting you get yourself killed? You can't -see- me. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have started a conversation. I'd have killed you. And you would be dead, and I would have two bodies to deal with AND an invisible friend someplace that apparently couldn't be arsed to get your bodybag. And if I was the one that killed her? I wouldn't be sneaking into a morgue to reclaim her- I'd have just kept her." "And you will not be 'fine.' You did well sneaking in here, with your dancy moves and your stair skipping. But you need to -leave- now, and you will be fighting both gravity and dead weight on the way out." "Why wasn't your plan to open a Hedge Gate in the first place? There's a door right there, and nobody down here. How did you plan to move a body through the middle of the city, anyway?" Edmond's silent for a second, and then he scowls FIERCELY. "I didn't want to open a hedge gate in a building where it's mostly mortals! Just in fucking case!" he hiss-whispers angrily. "And the last time I accepted help from a stranger who acted like they knew better than me, I got bloody Taken by the Gentry didn't I! I'll accept your help if you swear it to me, friend, that you'll do me no harm, just for the day even-- and that your help will be to get her to the freehold where she won't be-- where profane things will be done to her." He straightens up again, and takes another billowy-caped and suspicious step back. "Are you the dick who's been watching since we got down here? If you're not I don't want to say anything else." "You -do- know it only lasts for thirty seconds -at the longest-, yes? It's not as though they -linger- long, and if -you- did it, I'll wager it'd be closer to... ten, fifteen seconds. Plenty of time to get through without passersby, especially if you wait a few moments to be SURE nobody comes by in that time." "I will give you my pledge that so long as you are transporting her to the Freehold of fate's Harvest and do not deviate from doing so, I will lend you my aid and refrain from harming you, and accept a curse upon my head should I willingly harm you before the task is complete or a day has passed." There's an audible sigh at his comparison to Gentry. "I'm not a -Kindly One-, friend. I am sworn to Fate's Harvest and came here for the same purpose as you- and felt the same eyes upon me. Now- are you going to open the Gate, or shall I?" It's only when the pledge takes root with Edmond's decisive nod that masked and tuxedo-clad elemental relaxes. "You do it," he whispers back, shifting his grip on the body, then looking past, um, the air, toward the door. Where he supposes Teagan still is. "I'm not sworn, but that's abso-fucking-lutely where I'm taking her. The papers said they were releasing the body to someplace called Nightingale Mortuary tomorrow, so it's a good thing we got here when we did..." "Nightingale?" Vorpal pauses to consider that. "... hm. I -think- that may actually be a suitable destination for her. I'll still make the gate- we're already here, we may as well liberate the body and let the mystery wander the department until they get a hold of the Mortuary, and likely hear the body was collected and the paperwork forgotten." Vorpal moves to the door and steps to the other side. "Come over here. I want to be sure nobody passes through after you, besides your invisible friend, and I can't do that from inside the morgue. We already know nobody's there, at least." "...well, damn," Edmond says with minor irritation, but he shakes it off; he's already feeling better again, despite the fate of the poor woman in his arms. And he nods firmly, then steps through the gate that Vorpal created, right into the hedge. He'll go collect his car later. Maybe using the superjump skillz he'd planned on using to get to it with the body in the first place. They've been quiet all this time, and then finally Teagan's voice comes out of the Hell Mantle (which it will be forever now). "... guys. Nightingale is one of ours. Like. One of ours runs that," Teagan's voice is the verbal equivalent of a facepalm. "... maybe we should put her back." "Ah! My friend," rings out from nowhere, adressing the verbal facepalm from nowhere. "I rather thought it safest to take the body and simply ask the owner to state they picked it up and forgot to file the paperwork. We can take the body there, but to be honest, I would rather not run the risk of something unforseen happening and denying us or her family access to the body because we got complacent." There's two people here who apparently know the situation better than Edmond does, so he actually literally just stands there, princess-carrying a body bag like he's JGL's character in Brick, and waits for them to sort it out. Vorpal's answer has the invisible Hell-Mantle creature groaning irritatedly. UGH ARE YOU KIDDING ME? "Okay, Official Boy," Teagan answers, "Let this be on the Collective Decision-Making Whatever." As most of the gate's duration is expended on the conversation, Vorpal grins to himself and simply declares, "So be it. Let's be off, there's about eight seconds left." And through the gate he goes. Edmond steps back a little further to make room for Teagan to come through as well, then just follows. There's sort of this aura of smug pleased-with-himself going on. "Anyroad, gravity's a friend of mine, mate, and I'm stronger and faster than I look. And if I'd got caught, I'd just escape and leave town and not get the sandwich Teagan promised me." There's little that Teagan hates more than being the voice of reason. They're supposed to be the voice of fuck it let's get drunk and do something hazardous. It's specifically in their contract! They just make a cranky noise and follow through the Hedgegate. It's a weird voice, not Teagan's voice. Must be what that dude from LA sounds like.