RE: Incident [TEXT]
03-11-2013, 10:53 PM
(03-07-2013, 01:13 AM)Pharmacy Wrote: »The bank. But not just ANY bank.
For the first time your eyes drink in the plushness of your surroundings. The walls are wood-panelled, the furniture dark and expensive, the chairs upholstered in smooth leather. And all are covered in a thick layer of dust.
A massive desk squats in front of you like a glowering bullfrog. There are still stacks of paper standing on it, plus the gleaming nameplate of someone you've never heard of. Whoever they were, the evident knighthood signals that they were doing far better than you are now. Probably never tied to a chair even once in their lifetime.
As you meet the gaze of the figure in the oil painting behind the desk (the legend declaring it to be the aforementioned 'Sir') you begin to have a sneaking suspicion as to where you might be.
The Old Bank.
Or The Abandoned Bank, or The Bank On Crestbridge Street. It's a beautiful building – at least, from the outside – with an impressive façade of carved stone, all low steps and Corinthian columns. As far back as anyone can remember, the windows and doors have always been boarded up and barred. Warning signs plaster the walls. Nobody knows why such a prominent building has been left derelict for so long, only that it's always been like that.
There are dozens of stories surrounding the building. Most of them refer to groups of people that went mysteriously missing when they broke in, and a few expand on the theme by blaming monsters or ghosts that lurk in the abandoned rooms. It's nonsense, but it keeps people away better than the warning signs ever could.
It's nonsense, but you can't help but notice the deathly silence. You strain your ears and only catch the sound of your own breathing.
Why is it so quiet?
You try to say something to break the silence, but your mouth is too dry and the lack of noise too oppressive. Your words catch in your throat. So you try to think of something else.
A massive desk squats in front of you like a glowering bullfrog. There are still stacks of paper standing on it, plus the gleaming nameplate of someone you've never heard of. Whoever they were, the evident knighthood signals that they were doing far better than you are now. Probably never tied to a chair even once in their lifetime.
As you meet the gaze of the figure in the oil painting behind the desk (the legend declaring it to be the aforementioned 'Sir') you begin to have a sneaking suspicion as to where you might be.
The Old Bank.
Or The Abandoned Bank, or The Bank On Crestbridge Street. It's a beautiful building – at least, from the outside – with an impressive façade of carved stone, all low steps and Corinthian columns. As far back as anyone can remember, the windows and doors have always been boarded up and barred. Warning signs plaster the walls. Nobody knows why such a prominent building has been left derelict for so long, only that it's always been like that.
There are dozens of stories surrounding the building. Most of them refer to groups of people that went mysteriously missing when they broke in, and a few expand on the theme by blaming monsters or ghosts that lurk in the abandoned rooms. It's nonsense, but it keeps people away better than the warning signs ever could.
It's nonsense, but you can't help but notice the deathly silence. You strain your ears and only catch the sound of your own breathing.
Why is it so quiet?
You try to say something to break the silence, but your mouth is too dry and the lack of noise too oppressive. Your words catch in your throat. So you try to think of something else.
(03-06-2013, 10:46 PM)Dragon Fogel Wrote: »Your parents.
(03-06-2013, 09:16 PM)Chwoka Wrote: »Number 6.
Right. The kidnappers. To be truthful, you're not entirely sure who brought you here, seeing as you were tapped as you left your office and didn't get a chance to see who did it or to ask them about their allegiances. But there are two main candidates, and you have a pretty good idea whose toes it is you've been treading on.
Possibility one: one of the crime syndicates. And there is only one, really. It also happens to be run by your biological parents. You keep quiet about that particular fact because it's bad for business, and they keep quiet about it because you're a nobody. Everybody wins, especially considering that they're scum and you want nothing to do with them.
In any case, you've been on good terms with the mob lately. As good as they can be between a PI and the hub of organised crime.
So that leaves possibility two: Number 6.
Who is Number 6? It's unclear. But several high profile assassinations have his name linked to them. He probably wasn't the one personally responsible, but word is he has something of an army hidden somewhere in the city and a use planned for it. You've seen the posters and graffiti around, so you know this much: Number 6 wears a mask, and his plan is to do with the sparkers and the city's mercenaries. The former is shady as hell and the latter means blood is going to get spilled, sooner or later. The assassinations are just the beginning.
And the reason you're involved with this maniac? Your rent is due. And you haven't been getting cases lately. So when some guy turns up with a story about a rich relative receiving death threats, you jumped on it as fast as you could. Problem is, those threats quickly became reality and you stumbled on the scene just in time for the murderer to get a good look at you. You also filched the gyroscope because as far as you're concerned, this is still your case. Although maybe not for much longer.
Damn.
You hang your head and grit your teeth. You're not going to take this lying down, so you guess you'll just have to escape before somebody turns up to check on you. It's not like you haven't been coshed and tied to a chair before.
What was it that you did last time?
Possibility one: one of the crime syndicates. And there is only one, really. It also happens to be run by your biological parents. You keep quiet about that particular fact because it's bad for business, and they keep quiet about it because you're a nobody. Everybody wins, especially considering that they're scum and you want nothing to do with them.
In any case, you've been on good terms with the mob lately. As good as they can be between a PI and the hub of organised crime.
So that leaves possibility two: Number 6.
Who is Number 6? It's unclear. But several high profile assassinations have his name linked to them. He probably wasn't the one personally responsible, but word is he has something of an army hidden somewhere in the city and a use planned for it. You've seen the posters and graffiti around, so you know this much: Number 6 wears a mask, and his plan is to do with the sparkers and the city's mercenaries. The former is shady as hell and the latter means blood is going to get spilled, sooner or later. The assassinations are just the beginning.
And the reason you're involved with this maniac? Your rent is due. And you haven't been getting cases lately. So when some guy turns up with a story about a rich relative receiving death threats, you jumped on it as fast as you could. Problem is, those threats quickly became reality and you stumbled on the scene just in time for the murderer to get a good look at you. You also filched the gyroscope because as far as you're concerned, this is still your case. Although maybe not for much longer.
Damn.
You hang your head and grit your teeth. You're not going to take this lying down, so you guess you'll just have to escape before somebody turns up to check on you. It's not like you haven't been coshed and tied to a chair before.
What was it that you did last time?