(IC) Friday the 17th, Scene 7

[Q.Q Elf]

Lucinda/Summer wakes in a warm bed. The room is not one that she's familiar with. She's still wearing the school uniform she had on yesterday, under the covers of the bed.

School will begin in an hour. Dawn's rosy fingers have already started to reach across the sky outside the window.

On the bed stand is a gold BlackBerry Passport. The screen is dark. There's a note under it that says, Good luck -J. The BlackBerry boots up to its setup mode. The phone is completely wiped blank.

Not good, says Lucinda, inside her head.

There are noises outside the door to the room. It's Mrs. Meecher who comes into the room. She smiles knowingly at Lucinda as she sets a mug of coffee and a bowl of Cheerios on top of the note on the side table. There's a red dog collar held in the hand that had the coffee.

"I haven't had so much fun in years! We really should do that more often Miss Price.

"I expect you to be in class today. And don't breathe a word of this to the Principal if you know what's good for you... although I suspect she won't be in today."

[Rukellian]

Clark's sleep is restless and filled with nightmares. Every time he tries to attend Mrs. Meecher's class, he ends up in front of the chapel, walking in without any control over his legs. Always when he enters, Vanessa is found on the altar unconscious. He naturally walks up to it and to see if she is alright. When he does so, he can hear the evil laughter of his 'family' around him, the clicking of a gun chamber in the background. He tries to run, not wanting to see the same scene over and over again, but he cannot move. He looks to his hand finds a bloodied knife. Clark wants to scream but his voice is muted. He mouths the words 'I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry'.... just silence, and laughter. And at the end of this scene, every time he falls asleep and dreams this, Vanessa turns her head to stare at him, and then smiles.

What always makes Clark lurch out of bed in the middle of the night screaming is the not the bloody sight of the stabbing, not the twisted smile on Vanessa's face, but the fact that whenever she stares at him, the face changes.... it changes into Celeste. She's horrified, and confused, and on the verge of tears. Sometimes, Clark just sits there in bed and clenches the covers in tight fists, trying to stem off the shaking and cold sweat that usually forms, fighting back tears of his own.

What have I done... what am I doing? This-this isn't how I wanted to earn my new life. No, not with these hands drenched in blood. If I let this continue any farther, letting them have their way with Celeste, I won't have a life to return to...

Clark turns his head towards the alarm clock next to him and takes note of the time. 2:15 in the morning. He grabs the keys to his BMW and leaves the apartment. Standing outside again near the barrel he uses to burn trash, Clark fills it with old newspapers and leaves again, lighting a match and tossing it inside. With the flames burning brightly and jumping out wildly, Clark focuses his mind on the burning barrel before him, allowing his inner eye to open and gaze into the abyss that is destruction. He thinks of Celeste and how he wants her to be safe. He thinks of Pavo, and how dangerous he will be to confront. Clark then thinks of... her, and feels the flames lap against his face. She's not going to like this. [2d6+1] = 11+1 = 12

Staring into the flames of the burning barrel, the raw destruction before him serves as a bridge into one of the many forms of the abyss. Clark recieves another vision of sorts, very clear and lucid; he gets the feeling he knows what he will need to do, or not do for that matter, in the events to come. This should be the last experience I needed for my advancement, and the first I can get for scene 7.

[Q.Q Elf]

Kate Jericho, badly injured, and carrying her unconscious friend Victoria staggers towards the bridge. Next to her is the bloodied Seth Varron, with a mangled corpse on this back.

The bridge rises before them, blurring and stretching oddly into a bank of swirling clouds in Hell's sky.

All that's left between them and the bridge is an old man standing on an odd patch of grass and wildflowers on the blasted plain. He has white wings coming out of his back, and he holds a crooked staff of pale wood in his hands. The old man's face is calm, serene.

He looks over the group with disapproval. "Two of you do not belong here. Or is it three? No matter. Confess your sins, and pass the bridge. You may even repent of them, but such expectations have long since passed me by. Without confession, there will be no ascendance."

He grasps the gnarled staff firmly, his wiry muscles rippling with supernatural strength and power.

mc voice: Talk to him, try to go through him, all the same to me

[Q.Q Elf]

Clark's mind is unsettled. He hears Lucinda's voice crying for help. He sees his classmates at the bridge from Hell. He sees the white winged old man, looking into Clark's eyes and asking for his confession.

Is there a redemption from the murder of Vanessa? Can he get his soul back from the Emissary of the Horned Prince?

The only redemption, now, is through violence. To break the lockbox of souls where his and so many others were taken by the Emissary. Guns and bombs, more blood and violence. Blood to wash away the sins.

Clark sees a strange lead box with an upside down crucifix. It's sitting amongst trophies, green flags, photographs of his fellow students. It's the trophy cabinet, in the middle of the school cafeteria.

[MonkeyWrench]

Seth gently sets Frederick down before walking towards the old angel. His clothes are torn and ragged, blood and mangled mush hang from him, dripping. He stares up into the angels wizened face, "If we do not belong then let us pass, we have not died yet, there is no need for redemption or confession." He glances at Frederick and Victoria/Vanessa, "One may still need confess, and one hides within another..."

Rolling to manipulate the angel: Seth Hot Roll: [2d6+2] = 4+2 = 6 Gah!

[Q.Q Elf]

mc voice: Yessssssssssssss!

Oh, I mean, that's too bad... What a shame.


The angel shakes his head, a sorrowful look upon his face. He lays a strong hand on Seth's shoulder. "I don't need to be an Angel at Hell's doorstep to see the things written on your face, Seth Varron."


Seth feels the judgment of the true God's servant wash over him like fire. Seth is struck to the dust, crippled by a spam of deep spiritual pain.

+1 Harm, because this seems to be the Harm scene.

[Rukellian]

A guilty mind weighs heavily upon Clark's shoulders. The visons shows him a glimmer of hope though. Blood and violence is called for, but there is still hope.

To go against my contract and fight the Emissary would mean forfeiting my life.... is this really what I want?

Clark thinks upon this as he steps into his BMW, making sure the fire is put out before he leaves.

The Emissary and her master have given me so much, but my soul is not my own, and I am endangering the lives of others. I can't keep on being selfish like this, it all has to come to an end. Mother... yes, mother would't want this to continue. I've had my fun in this life. Time to reclaim my soul and move on to the next. Clarence is dead, and I should have died with him.

Clark drives off the to St. Francis Chapel and prepares for a confession, something he hasn't done in years. The very thought makes him shake in fear. He knows he is now making an enemy of the Horned Prince himself, and in extention, the Emissary and her family.

Just to make sure we are on the same page here, this is all taking place early in the morning, sometime between 2-3 AM.

Clark steps out of the BMW, having parked it in the parking lot nearby, and proceeds towards the chapel's main entrance, he knocks and tests to see if the door is open. If it is locked, he will try to find another way, without vandalizing anything

Not sure if I had an opportunity to do a move in this post. I know you guys are always suggesting that I look for such things, so I tried to work it out, and the closest thing would have been another Gaze into the Abyss, but I really don't want to do that again! That and it would have been pretty farfetched for this scenario. If I wanted to be bad, I guess vandalism (breaking windows) would be considered Volatile, but...

[Metal Fatigue]

Is this what having a soul is like? Summer wonders. So far it's remarkably like not having one, only with a bitchy voice in her head.

She throws back the covers and stands up, staggers a bit in Lucinda's unfamiliar body before Lucinda's reflexes take over. "Mrs. Meecher," she says urgently. "What happened while I was out? Please, you have to help me…I don't remember anything…I don't even…" She collapses back to the bed, nearly in tears.

Manipulate NPC: 2d6+2=7. What will it take to get Mrs. Meecher to fess up to a summary of yestereve's activities?

[MonkeyWrench]

Seth screams in pain, or attempts to at least, nothing comes out when he opens his mouth; The shock to his system is blanking his mind. Even the beast within writhes in pain it seems. It feels like an eternity before it finally ends, Seth is on his knees before the angel. He stares at the others, tears streaming down his eyes. He tries to stand as his body once more gets under control. He takes a few steps back, staring defiantly at the angel before yelling to Kate and the others, "Go through! I will hold him off!" Without another word Seth charges forwarding, attempting to tackle the angel and save the others.

Fighting an Angel! Seth Volatile Roll: [2d6+1] = 9+1 = 10 - I'm not sure how you roll or act for your NPCs, my initial thought was to have the angel need to make his hold steady before acting since Seth is tackling him and giving the others an opportunity to get to safety, but if the NPC's don't make rolls then i'm opting to add 1 harm.

It's up to MC and Kent of course but I could probably see this as "saving" the chosen, thus removing her from her darkest self.

[Q.Q Elf]

With a hysterical laugh that edges on lunacy, Mrs. Meecher shakes the red dog collar in Lucinda's face, and says, "You don't get to tell me what to do any more! ANY MORE! Do you understand me? You don't even know what you are, do you? You're a monster from a family of monsters... You don't even know it."

She throws the red dog collar at Lucinda's feet. "Go ahead, Miss Price. Put it on. It won't bite. Right? Isn't that what you said? When you recognize that I own you, then maybe I'll clue you in about how far you've fallen. I'd just as soon let you be surprised at school, though."

[Metal Fatigue]

The tears streaming down Summer's face are completely unfeigned as she kneels to put on the collar.

"You know, when I was little, my mother made me wear one of these whenever she let me out of the cage," she says, choking back sobs. "Just like old times."

On her knees, collared, eyes downcast, hands clasped behind her back, Summer is the picture of dutiful submission. The tears of humiliation merely add to the effect.

Turn Mrs. Meecher on: 2d6+2=10 for a String.

[Mister-Kent]

Kate turns quickly towards Seth, as if woken from sleep. "Wha--Seth? What are you doing?" She begins to run to the bridge, can't ignore Seth's struggle with the entity. She sets Victoria down, and grunts as her bruised ribs surge with pain.

But Kate doesn't care for anything standing in her way. "What are you, the angel of--getting your ass kicked?" she asks the being, voice hoarse, breath ragged. "Leave us alone!"

She wearily pulls her makeshift stake from its place tucked into the back of her pants, musters all of her strength, and hurls the weapon at the angel's head!

Volatile! Fight that angel! 2d6+1=12 Give him 2 Harm please!

[MonkeyWrench]

So... unless Q.Q decides to go with my first thought with make the angel make a hold steady roll, did we just kill an angel?

[Metal Fatigue]

PCs have 4 Harm capacity. NPCs don't necessarily have the same amount. Someone's kid brother might take 2 Harm and die; the big monster in the woods might take 8; the Big Bad might not stay down for long no matter how much Harm you hit it with. I would not bet on being able to kill an angel permanently by beating it up.

[Mister-Kent]

Hmm...I don't care about permanently--Kate just wants him down for the count for now

[Q.Q Elf]

So... unless Q.Q decides to go with my first thought with make the angel make a hold steady roll, did we just kill an angel?

I can't roll. There's no Hold Steady in my NPC playbook.

Therefore, you just knocked the Angel at the path from Hell out of commission.

I wonder what I could go with that later...


I'll have more stuff tonight. Trying to wrap up work.

[MonkeyWrench]

Nice!! That angel can suck it!

Bringing God's judgement down upon me... Totally uncalled for.

[Q.Q Elf]

Kate and Seth lay into the Angel at Hell's doorstep. It's like punching a bronze statue. Every strike is painful and discouraging. With every blow landed upon the Angel, Kate feels as if she's experiencing the biggest zaps of static electricity she's ever felt... and Seth hears the ringing of dozens of bells in his ears.

The Angel steps backwards, however. While he is empowered to strike down the dead and the damned, his mandate does not wholly extend over the living. To stretch out his immortal hands and cause Kate or Seth to fall in Hell might be an affront to the god. Enough, he says without speaking. Cross the bridge... without blessing. The Angel turns his back on Kate and Seth, and they carry Frederick and the unconscious Victoria to the bridge.

...

After saying goodbyes to Frederick, Kate and Seth walk stagger across the bridge. In a flash of light, they find themselves in the empty gymnasium at Acrewood Prep. The lights are on, and there's about half an hour before school is set to begin.

Victoria remains inappropriately dressed for school. Kate and Seth are covered in bruises and gashes, and stained with ashes and dust. They look like they've been through Hell.

...

Okay... since I am not forcing an action/Move on you yet, let's make up more stuff.

Mister-Kent. Please name the Physical Education teacher. Give him or her a physical description, and tell us his or her secret weekend indulgences.

MonkeyWrench. Please name & describe the Campus Security officer at Acrewood Prep (because every private school needs a rent-a-cop). Name two things that he or she carries on Campus that he/she is not supposed to have at Acrewood.

[Mister-Kent]

Coach Dirk Upton is a tall man, an obvious former high school sports hero, with his meaty build and persistent limp from a past (though surprisingly recent) injury. He has a rumpled face that was probably handsome in his youth, graying sand-colored hair, and dull brown eyes.

Upton is the gym teacher and also coaches Acrewood Prep's football and swim teams. He has a severe gambling addiction he nurtures on the lonely weekend, mostly by betting on high school sports. He regularly bets against his own teams.

[Q.Q Elf]

Just to make sure we are on the same page here, this is all taking place early in the morning, sometime between 2-3 AM....
Not sure if I had an opportunity to do a move in this post. I know you guys are always suggesting that I look for such things, so I tried to work it out, and the closest thing would have been another Gaze into the Abyss, but I really don't want to do that again! That and it would have been pretty farfetched for this scenario. If I wanted to be bad, I guess vandalism (breaking windows) would be considered Volatile, but...

OOC: Okay, jumping back in time... and trying to get Clark up a bit faster...

At that time of night, the Chapel is locked. While it is God's house, the house is in a mortal's world... and to avoid theft & to maintain hazard insurance on the property, the doors are locked.

When Clark turns around to head back to his BMW, he notes another set of headlights coming into the Chapel's lot. The older white-colored Toyota Camry parks near the pastor's residence.

Stepping out of the Camry is the Chapel's priest, Father Benefica. He's an older Filipino gentleman, dressed in black priest's vestments.

The old priest asks, "My son, may I help you? I have just returned from a most tragic automobile accident... an old man's duty to his flock is never done, you see. Perhaps you are lost?"