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mayfield_rpg2012-11-03 12:38 am
mayfield_mods) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-11-03 12:38 am
Entry tags:
event: the beginning of the end
[The Mayor's Office. You've been here before- some of you have even made it inside. But this time, you've got help.
The Postman is waiting outside the office. When your group arrives, he gives you a curt nod. His usual easy smirk is gone- and is that fear in his eyes?
Nevertheless, he tugs on the handle once, as if testing it.] I don't know why I expected it to not be locked. Well, here goes...
[He closes his eyes, his hand still on the knob, and waits a few moments. When he tugs again, the door opens in front of him. He waits a few moments further, as if listening for an alarm, then smiles slightly.] Still got it.
[The office is, by all accounts, an ordinary office, and nothing appears to have changed since the last time a group broke in here. There are papers scattered about on the desks, and the receptionist area is empty. Only one thing in particular stands out: there's a heavy scent in the air, like wet copper and rotting meat. It's coming from further down the hall.]
[ooc: this one is open to everybody! Follow the scent in order to advance the plot.]
The Postman is waiting outside the office. When your group arrives, he gives you a curt nod. His usual easy smirk is gone- and is that fear in his eyes?
Nevertheless, he tugs on the handle once, as if testing it.] I don't know why I expected it to not be locked. Well, here goes...
[He closes his eyes, his hand still on the knob, and waits a few moments. When he tugs again, the door opens in front of him. He waits a few moments further, as if listening for an alarm, then smiles slightly.] Still got it.
[The office is, by all accounts, an ordinary office, and nothing appears to have changed since the last time a group broke in here. There are papers scattered about on the desks, and the receptionist area is empty. Only one thing in particular stands out: there's a heavy scent in the air, like wet copper and rotting meat. It's coming from further down the hall.]
[ooc: this one is open to everybody! Follow the scent in order to advance the plot.]
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It looks like he killed himself, but the letter suggests he was being controlled or something. Just stand out in the hall and I'll bring you the note, okay? You don't need to see this.
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Still...something at the back of her mind nags her about it. Any time she tries to focus on it she'll simply end up with a splitting headache. Which, after handing said note to Marisa, she'll wince and put a hand to the side of her head.]
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I don't... Why does this seem... OW.
[She drops the letter and puts both hands to her head at the sudden pain as things, fragments, flash through her mind before something metaphorically bitchslaps her.]
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[Arcueid takes a position to brace the young lady just in case she ends up falling over.]
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Maybe I am sick...
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[Arcueid lets Marisa support herself, it WAS a pretty painful jolt just to read that thing.]
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[She squeezes her eyes shut against the pain.]
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[Just pick option two, Marisa.]
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[Nope.]
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[Arcueid seems a bit unsure about taking Marisa further...but she'll still gently take the young lady's hand and continue on with her to the next horror.]