RE: Grand Battle S3G1! (Round Four: City of the Dead)
11-21-2017, 02:42 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-21-2017, 03:22 AM by Pharmacy.)
Siobhan’s investigation proceeded uneventfully. Every Tom and Jerry in this necropolis knew a Draco or two but a cursory Gurgle Search neatly narrowed the suspects to one lich – more specifically one dracolich. The banshee wondered why this one Zee-Cee L'écuyer would choose such a blatant pseudonym – especially since he was the only undead lizard around these parts. Lichdom and theatrics were joined at the hip, she supposed.
Siobhan encountered her fair share of lichdom during her career. The primping and preening immortals loved the media attention. L'écuyer loved the camera too but he loved being right and hated being wrong and got really upset if he accused of being latter. L'écuyer was eccentric, yes. Eccentric, arrogant, and corrupt, if Holloway spoke true. The more she thought about it, the more an interview with the dracolich seemed unappealing. Property damage notwithstanding.
There was got to be someone she could talk to.
Someone not as prestigious as L'écuyer but just as informative.
--
“Sorry, Professor Hedley is currently not available.”
The corner of Siobhan’s lip twitched. Hedley’s desiccated form was in eyeshot, slumped at a corner behind a ramshackle fortress of books and baubles. She looked as if she was asleep and should be ignored. The blanket kindly arranged around her certainly helped that presumption.
“Let me correct myself. Hedley is spiritually not available. No part my fault, her vessel was empty even before I started my tenure. I am Tengeri Nyoka and I suppose you would have to deal with me. Coffee?”
A mug of coffee was pushed into her hands. Siobhan stared suspiciously into the dark surface, trying to divine some answers. The serpent should have been another stranger to interview and to forgot but there was something off about her. Maybe because Siobhan heard about a quote – nice snake lady – unquote from Holloway, who heard it from Modelo. Still counts.
“What are you here for?”
“I’m here regarding the arrest of a presumed Living last week. Said Living displayed supernatural abilities, apparently ‘bursting into flames’ and injuring two police officers. This is big news and yet – yet – it barely registered as a blip in the news ticker.”
All color drained from the serpent’s face, which gave Siobhan some confidence.
“Got to hand it to ‘Draco.’ Covered it up real good. Almost. I can tell from your expression you had a part in this and I might have secondhand evidence to back it up. So tell me. Tell me. Did the man die in custody? Or not? Tell me now and maybe I can have a good night’s sleep.”
The words affected Tengeri greatly, confirming her suspicions. Siobhan sympathized with her. There was an air of fatigue coloring the serpent’s words, her scales an ungroomed mess, and she clearly was not used to the art of verbal misdirection. In other words, Tengeri worked for the truth for truth’s sake, just like her, but Siobhan was not honestly not prepared for the string of words spilling from Tengeri’s mouth.
“…I know the man. Still alive.” A pause. “I suppose I have a lot of explaining to do.”
Siobhan held back her surprise. “No shit, Sherlock.”
“Lachlan,” the serpent turned to the ghoul Siobhan never noticed before. “Close the curtains and cover the cameras. L'écuyer…does not need to know this.”
--
Tengeri unloaded a lot of information onto Siobhan. Siobhan did her best to jot down notes but when she ran out of paper in her notepad and space in her recorder, she started to feel her task becoming a fool’s gambit. Forunately, the water-snake took notice of her woes and graciously allow her access to documentations, newspaper clippings, and other miscellaneous yet crucial bits-and-bobs. There was a lot of references to the point Lachlan had to help her carry them back to her apartment.
They were right. Tengeri is a nice snake lady.
Her apartment became an even bigger mess with the additions. Siobhan could now barely see the floor and she had to phase through the cluttered mess in order to reach the kitchenette. The banshee felt self-conscious about how much she sacrificed her quality of life in order to find the Capital-Tee Truth. Before she could ponder any further about her life situation, she heard a nearby tower of manila folders collapse.
“So, uh. Wow,” Jimmy sheepishly picked up the mess he made. “Five Living, huh?”
“Well, four actually. Two are dead. Jetsam’s a lich and Huebert’s, erm –” her fingers shot up and made air quotes. “ – ‘crossed over’ so to speak. Confirms my suspicions at least. Scofflaw’s missing in action but apparently up to no good. Tengeri’s fine. Tor’s working for Jetsam. No idea where TinTen is though.” She let out a sigh. “Going to discuss that with Tor. Tengeri put the good word for him at least.”
After some hasty preparation, Siobhan went transparent and rushed to the door. She briefly stopped in her tracks when Jimmy asked her a very important question.
“Siobhan, why are you doing this? I don’t like the liches any more than you do but shouldn’t you, like…leave this Living situation to them?”
Siobhan turned around. Her hair wavered under their own force. For a moment, she was not Siobhan the Reporter or even Siobhan the Wailer, but Siobhan the Banshee and a Banshee was a very ominous sight indeed.
“Can’t you see? They’re out of touch.”
In a rush of wind, she was gone.
Siobhan encountered her fair share of lichdom during her career. The primping and preening immortals loved the media attention. L'écuyer loved the camera too but he loved being right and hated being wrong and got really upset if he accused of being latter. L'écuyer was eccentric, yes. Eccentric, arrogant, and corrupt, if Holloway spoke true. The more she thought about it, the more an interview with the dracolich seemed unappealing. Property damage notwithstanding.
There was got to be someone she could talk to.
Someone not as prestigious as L'écuyer but just as informative.
--
“Sorry, Professor Hedley is currently not available.”
The corner of Siobhan’s lip twitched. Hedley’s desiccated form was in eyeshot, slumped at a corner behind a ramshackle fortress of books and baubles. She looked as if she was asleep and should be ignored. The blanket kindly arranged around her certainly helped that presumption.
“Let me correct myself. Hedley is spiritually not available. No part my fault, her vessel was empty even before I started my tenure. I am Tengeri Nyoka and I suppose you would have to deal with me. Coffee?”
A mug of coffee was pushed into her hands. Siobhan stared suspiciously into the dark surface, trying to divine some answers. The serpent should have been another stranger to interview and to forgot but there was something off about her. Maybe because Siobhan heard about a quote – nice snake lady – unquote from Holloway, who heard it from Modelo. Still counts.
“What are you here for?”
“I’m here regarding the arrest of a presumed Living last week. Said Living displayed supernatural abilities, apparently ‘bursting into flames’ and injuring two police officers. This is big news and yet – yet – it barely registered as a blip in the news ticker.”
All color drained from the serpent’s face, which gave Siobhan some confidence.
“Got to hand it to ‘Draco.’ Covered it up real good. Almost. I can tell from your expression you had a part in this and I might have secondhand evidence to back it up. So tell me. Tell me. Did the man die in custody? Or not? Tell me now and maybe I can have a good night’s sleep.”
The words affected Tengeri greatly, confirming her suspicions. Siobhan sympathized with her. There was an air of fatigue coloring the serpent’s words, her scales an ungroomed mess, and she clearly was not used to the art of verbal misdirection. In other words, Tengeri worked for the truth for truth’s sake, just like her, but Siobhan was not honestly not prepared for the string of words spilling from Tengeri’s mouth.
“…I know the man. Still alive.” A pause. “I suppose I have a lot of explaining to do.”
Siobhan held back her surprise. “No shit, Sherlock.”
“Lachlan,” the serpent turned to the ghoul Siobhan never noticed before. “Close the curtains and cover the cameras. L'écuyer…does not need to know this.”
--
Tengeri unloaded a lot of information onto Siobhan. Siobhan did her best to jot down notes but when she ran out of paper in her notepad and space in her recorder, she started to feel her task becoming a fool’s gambit. Forunately, the water-snake took notice of her woes and graciously allow her access to documentations, newspaper clippings, and other miscellaneous yet crucial bits-and-bobs. There was a lot of references to the point Lachlan had to help her carry them back to her apartment.
They were right. Tengeri is a nice snake lady.
Her apartment became an even bigger mess with the additions. Siobhan could now barely see the floor and she had to phase through the cluttered mess in order to reach the kitchenette. The banshee felt self-conscious about how much she sacrificed her quality of life in order to find the Capital-Tee Truth. Before she could ponder any further about her life situation, she heard a nearby tower of manila folders collapse.
“So, uh. Wow,” Jimmy sheepishly picked up the mess he made. “Five Living, huh?”
“Well, four actually. Two are dead. Jetsam’s a lich and Huebert’s, erm –” her fingers shot up and made air quotes. “ – ‘crossed over’ so to speak. Confirms my suspicions at least. Scofflaw’s missing in action but apparently up to no good. Tengeri’s fine. Tor’s working for Jetsam. No idea where TinTen is though.” She let out a sigh. “Going to discuss that with Tor. Tengeri put the good word for him at least.”
After some hasty preparation, Siobhan went transparent and rushed to the door. She briefly stopped in her tracks when Jimmy asked her a very important question.
“Siobhan, why are you doing this? I don’t like the liches any more than you do but shouldn’t you, like…leave this Living situation to them?”
Siobhan turned around. Her hair wavered under their own force. For a moment, she was not Siobhan the Reporter or even Siobhan the Wailer, but Siobhan the Banshee and a Banshee was a very ominous sight indeed.
“Can’t you see? They’re out of touch.”
In a rush of wind, she was gone.