---- Recall start ---- The Falcon: Upper Deck Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 45 degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 13 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.76 and falling, and the relative humidity is 86 percent. The dewpoint is 41 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius.) Nicodemus welcomes you aboard with a "Hey" and offering to assist clambering over the side of the boat after tying up the dinghy. "We've got about thirty minutes to spare getting there and set up. Don't know if she'll be there tonight or not. I've only seen the ghost once before." He moves towards the helm and begins the process of starting the ship's engines. Brigid settles into what looks like a familiar position at the stern of the ship. "Only one way to find out, mmmm?" The clouds canvas the fading light of the sun, pinks and purples sprawling across the western sky. There's a grind of protest and then the engine turns over. Nicodemus keeps the throttle at idle speed to let things warm up a bit. "Yeah. I brought along a video recorder to see if it shows up on film. And a list of names that may or may not be the ghost's--if it is a ghost at all." He nudges the throttle forwards and the boat slowly pushes towards its destination, aided by the current's assistance. As the boat moves out into the river, the wind picks up a bit, creating a pleasant breeze that only occasionally grabs up a fistful of spray from the river's surface and flings it at the boat's occupants. Brigid turns from her position, not seeming to mind the spray as she calls back. "How long is this list of yours? I'm curious!" Nicodemus points the craft in the right direction and turns about, still holding the wheel steady. "Six," he says loudly over the engine noise, wind noise, and sounds of the hull hitting the water. "Six suicides from the bridge in the past twenty years. That's where she's rumored to have leapt to her death. Only one looks promising. The others are too old or male." A hand futily pushes his hair out of his face. Brigid nods and looks back into the wind thoughtfully, bracing herself against the rigging before calling back. "Any idea how old she was?" Nicodemus begins slowing the boat down as they draw nearer to the spot. He holds five fingers up three times. Shortly after this, the throttle is drawn back to a full idle and the engine, now just sputtering softly instead of straining, is less of a nuisance. "Suicide," the goth adds at a more normal volume level. Dulcinea pages the room: I'll stay quiet until there's a call for me to interact. Y'all have fun. Role play. Have wild hot sex. I'll log. Brigid nods slowly and looks around, "Little girl lost, eh?" Moving from the stern, she heads towards the center of the boat, dragging her fingers through her hair to settle it back down after the wind. Nicodemus nods his head slightly, agreeing. "Maybe," he says, contrasting with his gesture. "I was hoping you'd be able to check it out. See if it's looking for some kind of release and if it's within our means to provide it. If it doesn't want any interference, we can just leave it be. But I think it'd be a good idea to at least alert it that it needs to be a little less public about its existence lest it draw unwanted attention who does not care one whit about what it prefers and what it does not." Brigid nods and starts looking around, "Provided she makes an appearance, I will do what I can. Ghosts are not necessarily my specialty, but I'll give it a try." "Not mine, either," Nicodemus claims frankly. "But it... It'd be wrong to just ignore it if either of us could do anything for it--and it needed help." A twist of the keys silences the engine and the ship drifts with the current. Nicodemus picks a handheld camcorder up from the floorboards and rests it on the seat. He then pulls twin black clove cigarettes from a pack. "There's a summoning ritual, too. It's sort of hokey, but...." He shrugs as he strikes a wooden match and lights both cigarettes, offering one towards you. "Smoke cloves while playing 'Bela Lugosi' at about eight at night." Brigid's mouth curls up at one corner in a slight smile as she takes the clove delicately. "Not a bad ritual, in my way of thinking." Taking a slow drag, she half-closes her eyes and smiles a bit more. "Been too long since I had one of these." Slowly opening her eyes, she looks around slowly, crossing her arms over her chest and letting the cigarette dangle from her fingers. From afar, to the room, Nicodemus , bad influence! :) From afar, to the room, Brigid is a good influence? ;) Nicodemus raises the black cigarette to his lips and exhales through his nose as he bends down to depress the 'play' button of a small, portable tape player. 'Bela Lugosi' floats out over the gentle waves as the goth takes a second drag from the cigarette and picks up the camcorder to rest in his lap. "Seems a bit on the mundane side to me, but," he shrugs, "different strokes, I guess." He leans back in the captain's chair, swiveling in the seat slowly as he scans over the waters where the ghost last materialized from the depths. You paged Nicodemus with 'About where is the boat in relationship to the shores and the fountain?'. Nicodemus pages: Further out from the shore rather than closer. You paged Nicodemus with 'So closer to the far shore. And the fountain?'. Brigid lets her eyes roam over the water, lids lowered halfway as she watches. Her hand raises a few times to bring the cigarette to her lips. Nicodemus pages: West --- East Ftn./Shore | Ghost Boat Meadow | Beneath the surface of the dirty water, a shape is seen rocketing through the murk toward the surface. If one were looking, one would see it just before it plunged out into the air, a sort of goth rendering of the Lady of the Lake except instead of a sword she's carrying a bundle of cloth. And the surface of the river seems utterly undisturbed. Nicodemus notices the ghost almost immediately and pans the camera over towards the apparition. "See it?" Brigid blinks and watches the ghost, trying to get a good look at her and the bundle she carries. "Well...hello..." Dulcinea's bangs drift across her face as she ducks down to... whisper? To do something to the little bundle as she moves across the river surface toward the boat. Cigarette clasped between his lips, vidcorder in one hand, Nicodemus turns the boat's wheel to allow it to drift closer towards the spirit as the boat and spirit head steadily towards the bridge. "Think you can get its attention? Or would that be unwise?" You paged Nicodemus with '...as she moves across the river surface toward the boat.'. Brigid very slowly moves towards the side of the boat closest to where the ghost is headed. "What've you got there, mmm?" she whispers as her eyes narrow a bit. The question gets a bit of a frown and a half-distracted flutter of one hand. "Let me look at her a bit before I go trying to distract her. Don't want to scare her off right away." Nicodemus pages: What? You expect me to actually read your poses, too? :) Long distance to Nicodemus: Dulcinea offers to take off some clothing if it helps. From the way she treats it, one would suspect the bundle was a baby. She does not look up at Brigid's question, merely continues toward the boat. Nicodemus straightens the rudder out once he determines that the ghost-like thing is coming towards the sailboat. "How close are we letting it get?" Nicodemus pages: Ew. Dead chick. Stay clothed. Long distance to Nicodemus: Dulcinea toys with the shroud, letting just a little cadaverous bloated water-logged flesh show. Brigid's expression softens a bit at the treatment the bundle gets. "Well, if she's taken this course before, I somewhat doubt our presence would alter her path any. She might just keep going right through the boat, I don't know." Clearing her throat gently, she calls out to the ghost questioningly. "How's your baby, miss?" From afar, Nicodemus has a rock with your name on it. :) It's come to that part of the song. Peter Murphy sings "Undead, undead, undead." In a gurgling, rasping voice, Dulcinea sings along as she lifts her head to look at the boat. Nicodemus takes a stab in the dark. "This isn't very good, is it?" Brigid's face pales at the timing, her head turning sharply at the question. "I...I don't know." Looking back, she takes a step back from the side of the boat and watches the ghost come closer. "Quick, what were some of the names you had?" Quickly... fluidly... the girl's form flows, and she becomes a leafless barren tree, limbs waving and battered by an unfelt wind. Then, just as quickly, she's back. A hand reaches upwards to grasp the small crucifix about Nicodemus' neck. As the ghost shifts forms, he says to Brigid, "Gretchen Underhill." The goth slides out of the captain's seat to stand, still keeping the camera trained on the ghost--for now. Nicodemus pages: Which, if you recall, isn't the main name Nick thought was the ghost's. ============================================================================== ============================================================================== Message: 6/6 in folder main Received: Sun Mar 28 17:57:05 1999 From: Cutter To: Dulcinea Subject: Mary Heloise Altman ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Mary Heloise Altman. 1985. Picture from about six years before the 'incident'. Official Police Report indicates that witnesses (drivers on the bridge) claim she climbed over the railing and threw herself off. Suspected suicide. Obit is short, indicates that she's passed on and funeral services will be held at such and such a home. Donations to be sent to St. Uriel's parish. ============================================================================== From afar, to the room, Nicodemus sets an obscure @doing. Player Name On For Idle Doing Nicodemus 04:12 33s One. Two. Three. Roast 'em! *Zark!* 51 Players logged in. Dulcinea holds the bundle forth. "Help," the voice says, "Bury." Dulcinea then vanishes. Dulcinea pages the room: Flee. Must Flee. ---- Recall end ---- From afar, to the room, Nicodemus powers down the proton packs and puts up the traps. From afar, to the room, Nicodemus waves. Thanks for the RP!
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