(2018-02-07) You've Got Mail
You've Got Mail
Summary: A group of Lost get an offer they immediately refuse, and Sparky nearly gets hit by a truck.
Date: IC Date (2018-02-07)
Related: None
Player Characters: Denver, Eddie, Lucas, Penny, Scorse, Sparky

| 6th Floor - Brundle Investigations - Cahuenga Building - The Bay |

A room of hazy lights and lots of shadows. A trio of windows would offer a spectacular view of the bay, but they are hung with nicotine yellow blinds that seem permanently glued in the 'closed' position judging by how speckled they are with flyshit and the permanent bends and tears in the old plastic where someone has roughly bent them apart. Over and over and over again.

There are shapes in the half-dark. An uncomfortable looking loveseat and rickety side-table faces a bulky oak desk with a large armchair behind it. On top of the desk is a crossword collection. In a corner is a cheap office chair and a smaller rolltop bearing a beige computer that looks to be from the 80s, along with a matching elder coffee maker. Next to the door is a coat rack, and numerous boxes line the walls, several seemingly permanently employed as makeshift filing systems. Yellowed photos adorn the walls. The magazines on the side table are years out of date and contribute to the musty smell of the place. Somewhere a hidden radio plays jazz made sibilant with white noise.

The Cahuenga Building is still there, somehow, seven years on and as ugly as ever. The flickering yellow flourescent lights. The stink of lemon-scented cleaning solutions and bleach and stale cigar butts. The sweating bronze plaque of the directory in the lobby, listing off a rogue's gallery of painless dentists and ambulance chasers and, up on the sixth floor, Brundle Investigations. Eddie started making phonecalls about an hour ago and the smell of dust and burnt coffee waft under the door as people start to show up. "Come in," he calls out, before anyone can knock, "it's unlocked. Just sweeping the place for bugs again."

"Eddie." The greeting was quiet, simple as Lucas pushed open the door and stepped into the dffice, a handful of crisp autumn leaves blowing in the door with him. What little light there is flickers ominously as he arrives, his lips twitching in a faint smile, "I see you haven't changed the place much."

"Found one!" Denver's hand launches out from the door, reaching over to ruffle Eddie's hair. "Best kind of bug, though. So you lucked out." Grinning, the ogre nudges into the room and makes her way towards a chair to settle herself down in a flop. "You hosting some kind of party tonight, E-Man? Or does the big search kinda indicate that this is more of an official business kinda deal?" She upnods towards Lucas.

Scorse slinks into the room quietly and unobtrusively. Sidestepping others as he makes for a wall to lean back against, all casual-like. He smiles wide, teeth sharp and doing nothing to assuage their own threat, which is even less than the words that flow out from between them most times. "Well, now. Ain't this just a small slice of ghetto heaven? Could use a little color in here, eh there, Eddie?"

Penny smirks as she walks into the office, a Darkling drawn to the darkness. "Wow Eddie, you just need a long legged dame who has a smile like danger. And a bottle of whiskey." She nods to the others, then holds up a wall in the corner.

…tap, tap, tap, tap… there's a tap, tap, tap on the window.

"You know how I feel about change," Eddie grins at Lucas, but it's a little weak. Like he's not really joking. He squirms like someone's little brother in a headlock when Denver gets her hands on him, but he's helpless. "Call it trivia night," he says, once he gets away. He hangs by the door until everyone makes it in, closes it, locks it. He laughs a polite laugh at Penny's joke, and doesn't let his gaze linger over at what used to be the secretary's desk for more than a second. "I always preferred sepia," he quips back at Scorse, gesturing around the room. "Alright, take a seat, or a desk, or a box, or what— What the hell was that?" Eyes on the window.

Penny stiffens and looks over at the window. "Tappin? I swear by all that is Edgar Allen Poe, if that's one of those birds, I'm gonna scream." Her hands tighten into balled fists.

"Kinda wanna hear you scream, Penny. As many of us as there are in one spot? Probably birds trying to peck down the glass?" It's partially offered as a joke, but the bitty-Summer is still starting to move towards the window. "I know they've been at Spin a lot, have they been bugging you? I know this is your office and your meeting, but you mind if I just kind of position myself between the window and everyone else?" No really a question, as she's pushing herself between the window and the room already. "Just in case." Denver's skin starts to harden, turning to a grey-ish ash in color, turning to volcanic stone.

Lucas's head turns slowly towards the window, his fingers curling about the carven grip of his cane as he does so. "Are we," he asks in quiet tones, "Expecting another visitor, by any chance…? Perhaps one that doesn't care for doors?"

"Oo, I though I heard a thing over that way? Little taptaptappy on the glass? You expecting company for this little soiree?" Scorse pushes himself off the wall with his foot and moves over towards the window, bent at his waist, head peering in the direction of the sound. "If we're real lucky, whatever it is is worth something…"

"Be my guest," Eddie says, gesturing have-at-it to Denver and the window. "I already softened up the blinds, for you." He goes ahead and reaches behind him to unlock the door, again, and steps off to the side to facilitate shooting around the ogre instead of through her. "Must be a party crasher," the detective answers Lucas, shaking his head.

"I need to learn how to make myself a flame-thrower. Think if I shake my hair at them it'll scare 'em off?" Denver sighs, pulling the sword from her back with one hand and reaching a hand up for the draw of the blinds with the other. "Y'all are all behind me enough, yeah?" That's the only warning she gives before she yanks the cord of the blinds.

The blinds jerk hard underneath the yanking of the cord. Which catches and enough tension applied feels like it might just snap the cord completely. But… the blinds do lift enough to show off the talons of a dark bird resting on the windowsil. What appears to be a message attached to one leg.

Penny fulfills her promise and lets out a screech worthy of a horror movie queen. Then the scream abruptly stops. "Okay, what the? It's got a note on it? Carrier pigeon from hell here."

"It took me eight years to collect all that dust," Eddie says a little mournfully as the blinds go up for the first time he can remember. When he spots the bird his first reaction is to point a gun at it, but it's just the one, and it's carrying something. The gun disappears again, and he steps forward for a better look. "Well," he says, "that's new. Let it in, I guess." He ignores Penny screaming. You get into that kind of habit, in this building.

"It's actually not that difficult to build a flame-thrower," is an off-handed observation from Lucas, free hand coming up to scratch at his cheek with a gloved finger, his dark eyes following the flame-haired woman on her way to the window. The blinds go up, and he's about to say something — before Penny's performing her finest Janet Leigh impression, the voice echoing through the room. That hand lifts higher, briefly pressing against his temple before it falls back down once more. "Mm. You've got mail, I see," he deadpans.

"I meant make -me- the flame thrower. But that'll take time." Eying the bird, Denver starts to pull open the window to give it enough space to get close enough to snag the message. "Might keep that gun out, Eddie, and pointed, just in case.

The message is easily snagged! And once done the bird flies away. The outside of the message has four names upon it:

Eddie Brundle
Lucas Ambrose
Bill Buckley
????????? Tyla Wilson ??????

"Guess we don't all warrant attention." Scorse sticks his fingers in his ears and rapidly shakes them to re-orient himself after the screeching from Penny. He moves to the desk to get a better look at the bird in the window. Grabbing a pen from the desk, he pokes at the bird's taloned foot. "Ain't no need with all drama from a little bird, now is there?"

Penny untenses somewhat when the bird flies off. "Okay, what is this? And…what? I don't merit a mention, you bird brains? Do you know who I am?" A pause. "I guess not."

Eddie takes the note and squints and makes a disgusted noise, passing it along and trying to get his blinds back down. "I guess it's always nice to get a letter," he mutters. The blinds come down crooked, first to the left, then to the right. He nearly takes them off the wall in the third attempt, and gives up with a curse. "Still, she could've asked how the wife was." He stares out the window for a long time before he turns back around.

Scorse steps to Eddie with his hand reaching out to get a read of the uniquely delivered missive. "What have we here? I think some of us a little let down that we didn't get called out. I guess we'll have to make a bit more trouble, eh?"

As the letter's taken by Eddie and then passed along, Lucas arches a brow - and, curious, steps over to reach out and take it. "You don't have a wife, Eddie," he observes as he turns it over to open it up with fingers deft even through gloves, "Unless you've been holding out on me."

The message is written in surprisingly elegant script: "Give me the crown your safeguard, and I shall give you what you are missing." It is signed with an incredibly fancy "C".

"Also, who is Bill Buckley?" Penny is very very curious, tipping over to see if she can peek at the note's contents. "I know that when you tell me who that is, I'll probably smack my forehead, but for right now, I'm completely clueless."

"Who knows what I've got, in the past seven years? We could all have wifes, now." Eddie goes away from the window, to the coffee machine, which smells like it's been on for about seven years itself. He pours himself a cup of something thick and black like volunteers might spend time scraping off of seagulls, six stories down on the beach. He takes a drink and waves around at the other mugs, scattered around the office, some of which have even had most of the dust blown out of them. "I vote no," he says, once everyone's had a chance to read. "I assume that's Buck. He's one of Tyla's strays, he's looking after the Antler Crown."

"I take it that the matter with Jack was taken care of, then…" The letter's considered with a hooded gaze, and then the autumn sorcerer passes it on to anyone else who cares to read, "…and I'm certainly not willingly throwing away whatever mad plan we enacted just for a few paltry years of memories. She can go fuck herself with an iron pitchfork, for all I care." Lucas rakes a hand back through bloodstreaked hair, breathing out a sigh, "…so in any case, why did you call us here, Eddie?"

Cobalt pages: You see a woman with silver hair, as if it were moon light given form below. She looks up at you with the prettiest most princess-y purple eyes you have ever seen… And you get the distinct impression you know her. But, uh, before you can thinking anything you … you also see an ifrit wandering /straight into the fucking road/ as if a zombie… and there is /DELIVERY TRUCK/ barreling /straight/ toward her.

Scorse creases his brow and shakes his head slowly. "Hmm. Could have swore I saw someone down there? Silver hair almost like the moonlight. Maybe I need some of the axle grease you drinking, after all…" Scorse, instead, reaches inside his jacket for a thin metal flask and spins the cap off the take a sip before re-capping and slipping it away. "Looked like o' us."

"More or less," Eddie confirms on the subject of Jack, his eyes darting briefly to Denver. "We'll talk about it later. For now, let's talk about," and that's as far as that goes, as Eddie drifts back by the window to peek out at whatever Scorse saw. His eyes bug out, he drops his coffee, he yanks out the window, and he jumps out. Six stories down and out of sight, leaving nothing but a draft, and a new coffee stain on the floor.


The horn of a delivery truck is blaring, blaring, BLARING as it desperately tries to swerve out of the way of the woman who has just walked out onto the street like a zombie.

Sparky screams and stumbles and tries to figure out which way the sidewalk is in time to get out of the way of the delivery truck, tripping over herself and throwing herself out of the street as fast as physically possible. She's quick and graceful, but this maneuver is anything but.

Eddie comes out the window of a particularly nasty looking office building, six stories up. He drops like a stone half the way down, then his wings kick in and he begins to glide, coat trailing behind him like a dimestore Superman. He curls his legs up, making himself into a cannonball, and rockets off at the woman in the street without so much as a Look-out!.

Scorse shows up last, having taken his sweet old time to make his way out of the building. At his age, you don't rush anywhere anymore. The merchant stops as he catches up to the others, seeing the winger Eddie a little further in the distance. Panting for a second, he pauses and then says to no one in particular. "Was it something I said?"

The delivery truck manages to swerve, and with Eddie and Sparky doing their best to well… avoid being flattened there's enough space that no one gets run over. Though Eddie's jacket does catch a little bit on the side of the truck and drags him an inch or two before it just rips.

Sparky has been carried off by an Eddie, and really, this isn't any great comfort to her, because she screams in fright once more as she tries to figure out what the bloody hell just happened to her. "OH MY FUCKING GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS FUCKING GOING THE FUCK ON?" she inquires.

Penny runs out of the building, having almost tripped down the stairs once or twice. She almost falls over a few times, but manages a tuck an roll to a standing position. "Eddie!" She runs on, trying to catch up to him.

"Well." Lucas stops just outside the building, grounding the cane before him and resting gloved hands folded over it as he watches, lips pursing in a line. "Isn't this interesting…" The clown tears out past him, and he remains behind, just observing for the time being.

"Now, y'all, I'm a tad bit lost here. Feel like I missed the start of the story? I reckon he knows the silver hair lady or somethin'?" Scorse scratches at the side of his head with his left hand, leaning to the right with his right hand on his hip. "Should we.. um.. follow them? Or is this one of those 'Scorse needs to stay back' moments?"

Ku-thunk ku-thunk, here comes Denver bringing up the rear, mostly due to the fact that that much stone is hard to move and it makes her slow. Eventually she makes it to the group, the sword back on her back so she doesn't draw that much more attention to herself. "We should follow them. I didn't recognize her, but this whole thing stinks."

Eddie plows directly into Sparky, eyes closed, not much carrying going on. It does the trick, though, or they're both just lucky, and either way they're both still uncrushed a moment later. "Shit!" he yells, as the truck nearly drags him off his feet. "Shit," he mutters, more subdued, examining the torn edge of his coat. He stands there for a second, stunned, just staring at it. "I was going to ask you the same thing," he finally says to the woman he just tackled, "let's get the hell out of here, anyone could have seen me."

"Where the fuck am I?" Sparky wonders of Eddie, trying to place her surroundings. "Ugh. Lead the way. I'm totally lost and I don't know where I am or where I'm supposed to be going. At least I'm wearing clothing. That's good. I feel like I've been asleep in a fog for hours." She shakes herself as if trying to shake away that feeling.

"There's a lot of that going around," Eddie says, bitterly. He leads the Ifrit back to the rest of the group. "Everybody, Sparky. Sparky, everybody. Doc, you mind if we meet back at your place? Or the school?" He looks to Penny. "Or any place without my name on any of the doors."

Penny finally catches up, a little confused and combative at the same time. She has fists up, staring at the new person, glancing over at Eddie. "What? Who? Wait…again? I'm not sure I can get us into the school…"

"Sparky." Lucas inclines his head ever so slightly to the woman in greeting, a smile crooking up at one corner of bloodstianed lips, "It's a pleasure… and I suppose we can use my place, although it's a bit away, so long as you all promise to disturb the neighbors. I've tried very hard to convince them all the house is haunted, after all". He exhales a chuckle, then, lifting the cane again and motioning towards the parking lot, "Shall we, then?"

Sparky takes a breath and lets it out. "I don't even know what happened. It's like I was asleep and now… now I'm not. I spent like… an entire fucking day in a fucking fog, unable to think. I don't remember shit," she complains, scowling. "But Eddie, man, thanks for saving my ass. I owe you one. You let me know."

Scorse mumbles to himself as they walks over towards Eddie and Sparky. "I saw her first but does anything thank me. Nooo…." He stops near but not close enough to interrupt the two. When Eddie indicates a destination, Scorse gives a small shrugs and grandly gestures in a wave for them to lead the way.

Eying Sparky, Denver's lips purse. "Did you try to make a Pledge at some point today? Things got fuzzy for us the last time we tried to do it." The paranoia continues as she looks around the area, but eventually starts to let the rocky outer layer of her skin return to flesh.

Sparky shakes her head to Denver's question. "Nope, nothing like that. I didn't really even do anything today. I didn't even go look for a job like I said I was gonna," she replies somewhat blandly.

"You think a day was bad?" Eddie asks, not bothering to articulate the other half of the thought. He marches off for the parking lot, apparently planning to ride shotgun in the hearse. "The truck was already swerving," he muses, stopping at the car door. Then he grins. "But yeah. I guess you do. You can start paying me back letting the doctor take a look at you." He climbs in, adding a flat Thanks to Scorse, muffled through closed windows.

After the front door's unlocked - three locks, and on the inside a chain and bar can be seen - the Plague Doctor steps inside, his gloved hands sweeping out to either side. "Make yourself at home. Just don't poke around too much, and don't open any unlabeled jars," he declares, making a stop near the fireplace to set the cane in a rack above it as if it were a display sword or something of the like. The heavy coat of bloody leather and plague rats' fur is swept off and hung up, leaving him in black jeans and a black sweatshirt, those gloves of his stil worn.

After the front door's unlocked - three locks, and on the inside a chain and bar can be seen - the Plague Doctor steps inside, his gloved hands sweeping out to either side. "Make yourself at home. Just don't poke around too much, and don't open any unlabeled jars," he declares, making a stop near the fireplace to set the cane in a rack above it as if it were a display sword or something of the like. The heavy coat of bloody leather and plague rats' fur is swept off and hung up, leaving him in black jeans and a black sweatshirt, those gloves of his stil worn.

"Alright, I don't think I'm damaged, but I'll see whatever doctor you want me to see. Fuck, I'll play 'doctor' if that's what you want," Sparky offers with a little shrug to Eddie as he explains what he wants to her. She looks uncomfortable during the ride in the car, and she looks uncomfortable now.

"You can play doctor with me anytime!" Denver tosses Sparky a wink as she moves with the group. There's a little shudder as they head into the Autumn's place, hands shoved deep into her pockets to keep herself from touching anything. "So Eddie, did you recognize that woman with the purple eyes?"

Scorse can't help but look around the place with the unveiled interest of a man accustomed to selling unique and strange items. And there's so many little things all around. He ends up shoving his hands into his font pants pockets to keep from touching anything. "So, uh, what's the story here, Marlowe? And hey there, lady? Name's Scorse. Prourd owner of the Lost and Found. A little shop across town where you should really stop by sometime and have a look around. Got something for everybody. I guarantee."

Eddie is quiet all the way over, just watching the mirrors to see what's behind them. He's quiet all the way to the door and he's quiet once he gets inside. He finds where Lucas keeps the coffee, maybe remembering after all this time, and he gets a pot going. Making himself at home. Only when the smell starts to fill the house does he begin to speak.

Once he gets started, he can't seem to stop. He talks about the pledge he tried to make, and what happens when you try and make a pledge now. He talks about being drawn into the Hedge with Denver and some others, and finding a village full of sleeping mortals, and a ghost with purple eyes. He talks about poor probably dead Norah Everbright, the lady who gave him the crown, and how he found out who she was, and all the birds at her apartment now.

He talks about the conversation he remembers, about the deal he thinks they made to hide. About how he thinks he was there. By the time he's done the coffee is half drank, and he looks kind flimsy, hollowed out of so many secrets.

Sparky listens to All The Things. It's a lot to take in at once. She throws herself into the nearest available chair and crosses her legs, looking a bit angry. "Name's Sparky," she says to Scorse. "I'm a baker. I strip when I can't find baking work to do. But I make one fucking mean petit four, okay?"
"We've forgotten someone," says Lucas as he sets a bottle of whiskey down beside Eddie's coffee, retrieved from a cabinet to the right of the fridge. It's not expensive whiskey, but he doubts the fly man will care. "I don't know who, but… the voice that you remember, I've heard it as well. Just on the tip of my tongue, but I can't remember the name." He looks out towards one of the walls of the house, silent a moment before he says quietly, "They asked if I was sure it would work. I told them that it had to. That I hoped seven years would be long enough to find the crowns. I was holding it, at the time. It must have been my season."

Then he's turning dark eyes to the two he doesn't actually know and offers in dry tones, "I never got a chance to introduce myself, either. Lucas Ambrose of Autumn. I'm a doctor."

Sort of.

Thrusting a hand out towards Lucas, Denver grins. "Denver. I knew I recognized this address. You're the guy Eddie told me to come talk to. I'm the one that kind of recently broke the weather. Cut a necklace off the Bird-lady's throat. Western Winds or something she called it. Eddie thought you might be able to help me fix it."

Scorse turns to Lucas as well and after Denver finishes introducing herself, Scorse takes his turn. "You.. heard the spiel, but in all seriousness. I do have a workshop all set to make armour and weapons as needed. So, y';all just keep it in mind. I'm mostly a diplomatic type. A salesman by trade, so I leave the fighting for you fighty types. I like myself with all my pieces attached, you hear?"

"So we were both mixed up in this?" Eddie thinks that over for a moment, nodding his thanks to Lucas at the whiskey. "I should have figured. It's a Winter kind of plan, but the execution is all Autumn." He wiggles his fingers, magically, then doctors his glass. When his throat is wet and his stomach is burning and everyone's made their introductions, he talks again. "We've forgot a lot of things, and mostly I don't think I'm missing much. I'd like to remember that face, though. I'll bet you the eyes were purple."

He turns to Scorse, while Denver's talking to Lucas. "I'm not exactly golden gloves myself, but we work with what we've got. I think I heard of you, back when. You used to live there, didn't you? On the other side. That's why I called you." A beat, and he admits: "That, and Bea told me to."

"I don't know any of these people," Sparky complains with a little shake of her head. "I don't know any of you here. I just felt like I had to give it a new start here in town, and now I'm here and weird shit is happening to me." A pause. "Is it okay if I smoke? I could really use a cigarette about now."

"Yessir, Eddie. Lived in the goblin market for forty years. I made quick runs to this side, but never more and a day." Scorse chuckles as he looks around and waves his hands upward, motioning to the world. "It's… been a transition, you could say. Getting used to this side. I'm still not keen on it."
Scorse's energy level seems to slowly be draining after all the excitement and he takes a seat. "I got spit out of the hedge and no idea what happened. I don't have seven years of fog. I got seven years of blank. Woke up in the park one day and here I was."

Lucas - perhaps surprisingly - reaches out to accept Denver's offered hand without hesitation, spidery fingers covered in the black of his glove giving her hand a firm squeeze. "We met before, briefly," he admits with a shrug of one shoulder, "And I can look into it, if you bring it by." Once he's retrieved his hand, he cocks his head a touch at Scorse, a vaguely avian motion, "Interesting. Well, things aren't… exactly status quo out here either, if you hadn't noticed. Heh."

"Did we? Sorry man, everything is a jumble in my brain. Good to re-meet you, then!" Denver's smile never falters, the squeeze back careful, clearly afraid to hurt the doctor's hand. He needs those! "When I cut if off of her throat it kind of…" She makes an explosion mime with her hands, making a noise like thunder. "I looked for pieces afterwards, but there weren't any. I don't know if there's books on recreating it, or what, but after it got destroyed, the winds from the ocean just died, so I have to guess that the two are connected." She glances at the others, curious about their stories.

"Don't worry about it," Eddie says, producing a cigarette for Sparky, "I think we're all enjoying the company of someone who knows even less than we do." He gives her a little wave, on her way out. He looks around at the world, when Scorse motions at it, and shrugs. "I don't like it much either, but it beats the hell out of the alternative. Anyway, that's why I called you. I'm going to try and find that village again, and it sounds like you might be good to have along." He looks down into his mug. The coffeine and the liquor were doing him some good, a minute ago. Not so much, now. Something Denver was talking about, it seems like.

"There's one more thing, before I go start moving the hat around again. Noreen Everbright's apartment is swarming with birds. Any ideas on an approach would be handy, but more importantly it seems to me that any place with a lot of birds outside it must be pretty important." He digs into his coat for his wallet, handles it like it weighs twenty pounds. He digs around and comes out with a card: Port Angeles Birdwatchers Society. "So I'm going to ask around."

"Bea tol' me about the village and I'm very interested to come along. I… It's the closest to home I been in a long time and even a taste o' the air would be worth the trip. And like I said, I am good talkin' with folks, so handy to have around." Scorse nods to Eddie, looking around at the other and nodding to Denver as well, not making the same introduction a third time. "I could do take a little peek at that apartment if you wanted? I have a lucky streak if you know what I mean. I could have a little peeksy?"

"That… will make it complicated to repair," Lucas observes a bit dubiously, "I suppose I can look into this woman and her connection to the winds, however." A nod to Eddie, "If I'm around, I'll assist, of course. You know you only need to ask." A glance at his watch, "Mm. But I have an appointment tonight, and unless you're all terribly keen to watch plastic surgery done in a backyard shed—"

"I could probably get in, if I didn't get pecked apart. But it might be easier for someone whose name wasn't on the note, and it'd be nice to have some good luck for a change," Eddie nods at Scorse, slipping the card back into his wallet. "I'll call you. For the Hedge, too." He finishes drinking his drink, and even goes to rinse out his cup. A day of wonders. The whiskey goes into the fridge, and he looks at the front door when Lucas begs off. "Yeah, I've got an appointment to keep with a doll, anyway. Save me the scraps, Doc."

"And I've got a monkey to feed and diaper change, so it was nice meeting you all. Please, come by the shop sometime. Look at things, buy things. I promise I have exactly what you are looking for." Scorse stands from the chair and gives a bows to the room in general, very grand and dramatic. "I bid you all adieu. And you, adieu, I do."

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