Molly Toombs
Molly had been stalwart after her 'breaking up' with Nate. Sure, she had a shitty night at work later that day and Dr. Jacobs had talked her into taking a personal day and going home. Sure she was down and tired and upset enough that she let some young new vampire sneak information out of her, just as she had been trying to do to him (fair is fair, you shouldn't be fucking around with vampires in the first place). For the most part, though, she had sucked in a breath and lifted her chin and carried on. If Nate didn't wan't to talk to her ever again, fine.
It was rough, though, when she'd come home exhausted from work and find Florence sleeping beside her dog bed (Molly was proud and pleased, because the puppy had successfully transitioned from needing to sleep in a crate at night to being able to sleep in her bed), kicked out by a lanky young orange kitten who was sleeping in it instead.
That was Nate's last Fuck you. Passing the curse of the reminder.
It was Wednesday night when Molly had her next night off work. She kept busy, but the sun settled behind the mountains and Molly was out on the balcony with the kitten meowing and dog whining for shared access to the open air at the screen door.
Again, she felt alone. She wanted to reach out to someone.
Instead of calling her mother or father who would love to hear from her, she dialed the name 'Jacky' in her phone.
"Do you want to go do something?"
Jack
That voice she knows; touch of honey behind it.
"I'm tied up for another hour, but certainly. An adventure or something like a, ah," a pause, he is clearly searching for the right word, "a movie?" Doubtful; does he know what's playing? He might.
Molly Toombs
She sounds grateful that he answered. Another hour would be perfectly fine.
"Anything that can keep me busy... An adventure, maybe? What kind do you think?"
Jack
He considers this question in silence. There is no ambient noise so Jacky must be inside somewhere. If she listens closely, she can hear the brief rapidfire noise of somebody typing something on a keyboard and then silence again.
"An adventure it is," and he seems cheerful enough at that prospect. "How do you feel about sneaking into either an abandoned building or a building full of Church-goers?"
Jack. You take people on the weirdest dates.
Molly Toombs
The question earned him a sigh, but it wasn't disappointed. Somehow it sounded like both prospects were daunting in their own way, but she was still endeared to Jacky for suggesting them. She wouldn't expect anything less, and was on some level even pleased with his unending search for the unusual and intriguing.
"An abandoned building sounds like something we'd end up in the emergency room on account of. But it would probably be the most adventurous, wouldn't it?"
She was weighing the options, clearly.
"Perhaps the church? Which were you thinking?"
Jack
"What do you know about Scientologists?"
Molly Toombs
The laugh that chimed on the other end of the phone for Jack pretty much answered the question itself. But she did go on to elaborate.
"Only about as much as the next person, probably. Enough to know better." Something about that just tickled her pink, though. She was worried about disrespecting an establishment, if they were go to sneaking about in an old cathedral or a temple to an unfamiliar religion. Scientology, though, she clearly had a low enough opinion of that it didn't feel nearly so inappropriate a pass-time.
The rest of the conversation would be to relay a location and a time to meet. He'd said that he'd be free after about an hour, so Molly stepped to taking Florence out for another walk before she could be on her way.
Jack
Jack tells her to bring a flashlight and says he'll bring the snacks. He brings the best snacks doesn't he. The target (location [Church? Scientology outpost?]) is somewhere on Federal and the corner they're going to meet at isn't too far from the busstop. He's already waiting for her when her bus arrives. Homely (that is a kind word for it) man with a face only a mother'd love, werewolf eyebrow, werewolf knuckles, pale like he spends all his time indoors or amongst the stacks hidden with books breathing in book-dust, his hair neatly combed but havoc played with it by the wind.
Those curls'd be so sweet if only they had some sort of consistence and if only there weren't this sneaking suspicion that he's going to lose it all one day. He's dressed in running shoes (!), albeit running shoes that're falling into pieces. The usual assortment of ill-fitting clothes, through sheer carelessness. A hoodie for larceny instead of the usual elbow-patches jacket.
He wasn't very noticeable (unseen presence [that's our Nobody]) until Molly actually got off the bus, doors hissing open. Then there he was, lopestery stride drawing him nearer, smiling like he's glad to see her though there's a line between his eyebrows.
[Tithe @ 4:14PM
A roll witness, plz. Manip + Perf.
Roll: 8 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 7, 7, 10) ( success x 3 ) VALID]
Molly Toombs
When the bus doors opened with a pressurized hiss, Molly stepped down off the large clumsy vehicle with a wave of thanks to the driver, and blinked in surprise that quickly turned to pleased surprise to find Her Jacky (that mask, the Harald face, she found dearer and nearer as time kept on) already there and waiting. Molly usually dressed to impress at least a little bit when coming out to spend time and go on these dates, but for adventures one had to be practical. She was wearing a gray zip-up hoodie (great minds think alike) and a pair of well-cut jeans that looked like she's worn them enough to break them in to the point of being 'activity' jeans. The hoodie was unzipped low enough to show the white T-shirt beneath. Her hair was braided up into a crown or halo about her head, out of the way in a manner both more attractive and effective than a plain old ponytail.
She had her tote bag straps over one shoulder, bag itself tucked under one arm. The other arm opened and met Jacky with a hug before she smiled up to him and announced: "Good to see you."
Just as he looks happy to see her, but with a line between his brows, Molly looks very much happy to see him, but there's a new tired almost hooded quality to her eyes. She may not be sleeping well, or something like that. But then, she'd told him her stresses and worries several nights ago on an apartment balcony, so he could probably dream of a few reasons for her having sleepless nights.
"So, are we hunting for anything in particular on this adventure? Or just seeing what's it's like behind the curtain?"
Jack
So are we hunting for anything in particular on this adventure? Or just seeing what it's like behind the curtain?
He has never seemed to be the most attentive or noticing of young men. He didn't notice she'd let her hair go red again for at least a whole night and then he'd mentioned it with an air of surprise that seemed unfeigned. He doesn't always notice when his enthusiasms are running wild or if what he's about to say is going to be socially awkward. He doesn't seem to always notice the emotional states of others, not because he is careless but because he often occupies the realm of ideas and has to be reminded that people live outside of the realm of ideas too. This is something Molly knows about Jacky. But Molly also knows Jacky (who is lucky; that's a clue, or would be, if she knew what he was and who he'd been born as, because Jack always has been lucky in all of his incarnations, they used to call him lucky and so it isn't a lie) can be thoughtful. He just has to think about it first. Then: can't he be sweet? The sweetness isn't just present when he grins.
All to say that Molly looks tired and hooded, and Jacky doesn't seem to think to inquire whether something new has happened. He doesn't give her a concerned look though his eyes do fix on hers for an extra beat while he considers how to make her happy. Jack wants Molly to be happy and content and interested in investigating secrets, unless a happy and content Molly is not interested in secrets. He has no reason to think that.
So she hugs him and he's getting less awkward with hugs.
"Hmm. I confess that there is a file I'm hoping to see and make copies of." His smile flicks and up go his eyebrows like he's surprised but that's just the shape his face makes. "You look pretty," and that sounds surprised, too. Not that she looks pretty, but that he's noticing - dig? Jacky is not the suavest of young men. He offers his hand because two friends strolling hand in hand is a good cover.
As if he's continuing his thought: "But I also want to just poke around. I don't know very much about Scientologists. Cults are fascinating, aren't they? Especially in this state."
He gives a nod of his (weak) chin toward a building down on the opposite corner. From where they are, all Molly can see is stucco and the shadows gathered around eaves; a rusty looking chainlink fence with desultory barbed wire on the top, and an empty parking lot. Empty parking lot with an air of Halloween hauntings, out front. No sign that says Scientology Center. The windows are white and blank. It's not the best neighborhood or the richest but it's not the worst either (though in the World of Darkness, isn't it all the worst? Everywhere?).
Molly Toombs
[Perception 3 + Alertness 3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (4, 6, 6, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )
Molly Toombs
The compliment was accepted with a smile that was genuine enough. Flattered, but not to the point of blushing or stumbling in speech for it. Molly tended to dress stylishly, and she'd consider herself dressed down today, but even when dressed down she still liked to be presentable and neat. Her hair was neatly braided up in that crown, with few flyaways or stray hairs left untucked or unplaced. Her face wore light make-up that looked clean and fresh rather than heavy, not at all as she would've probably done it up if she was wearing a lovely dress and some high heels. Still, though, she looked nice enough that she wouldn't call his compliment an outright lie.
"Thanks," was all that she said to it, and accepted the hand he'd offered for her to take and walk. Her free hand adjusted its grasp on the tote bag strap, and her shorter legs found pace with his. Jacky could get off in his own world, speaking to share the ideas that he was distracted with or silently contemplating them on his own, and sometimes he could forget his pace on this Mask's longer legs, but he'd never really get away from her or leave her in the dust. She didn't have to worry or try too much to keep up with him while they walked.
She's interested in his answer, and this shows in the curious but very open glance that she casts up his way: "What's this file got that you would want to have?"
While she waited for his answer, Molly looked forward to the building that he'd pointed out, with its rusted barbed wire and the deep shadows surrounding it. The lack of sign announcing the building's purpose had her frowning a little. Maybe that combined with the security fence was what prompted the woman to look deep into the shadows and corners and edges of open spaces to see what could be found.
Jack
Molly is quite sharp tonight.
She notices in an alley a little castle of boxes leaning sad against a dumpster and knows it for a home, knows it for a place in which somebody is sleeping, knows it for a place somebody is sleeping right now, watching the street in a way that strikes her as more intentional than otherwise.
She notices on the street a couple who are clearly on a good second date and notices that the woman has a tattoo on her cheek to cover a birthmark.
She notices a cat (who is not Boots) harrying a mouse along the sidewalk and the gutter, pausing to look around in that alert and conscienceless way that cats have when they're playing.
She notices a hole in the fence, narrow, not on the side of the parking lot that Jack and Molly are approaching, but if they circle the perimeter the hole is cut into the fence in a dusty wayward corner, and how the Hell did she even notice?
She notices the cameras, too, one on top of a lamp post with a view of the parking lot, though she can't tell yet if it's on or not. As they approach, she notices more about the building, like it has two stories, and it's actually a duplex-sort of building, and she'll notice a couple of signs posted up advertising a Clothing Swap for Revelation, another sign which says Have you heard the word about the Emissary? and beneath that shows a saint's placid face. She'll see that there is no graffitti on the building they're approaching, although there is some on the surrounding buildings.
That the side of the building not within the security fence is a lot less secure, for all it runs down another alley narrow between. Will notice the door, but how also there are no windows on the first floor in that alley and how there's a wash of bright light by the door. Another camera, this one clearly on: black and blank. She'll notice a fire-escape past the camera at the far end of that alley, which leads right to the roof and past a window.
She'll see a window, ajar, up there on that second floor, and notice also that it's barred.
"Information," Jacky says, but of course he's not going to leave it there, although he does give her a look touched with humour for a second, like perhaps he will. He is trying to cheer her up, but distracted by the truth: information. "I'm hoping that this file will shed some illumination on a relationship a contact of mine has with," and he hesitates, before deciding: why not. Molly's his partner, isn't she? A flick of a glance. Sudden sweet grin. "I suppose we've come too far for me to caveat anything I say with 'I know this may sound crazy, but,' yes?"
Still. Confirmation before he says anything too crazy.
Molly Toombs
"Much too far, Jacky," she said, and the tone sounded full of affection. It was becoming difficult for anyone, even Jack himself, to distinguish whether this came from her genuine like of the Harald character that he has been using for her, or whether it was the Blood that cultivated the warmth in her heart for him. One was not necessarily a separate thing from the other anymore, truth be told.
She held his hand with her fingers through his because he probably allowed it. It comforted her, being so neatly palm to palm, to feel that pulse consciously asked to beat like it did for the sake of her sense of security. Listened to him while she scoped out the building they were approaching and the area around it. She was already looking for ways in, and found the closest thing she had to access for them on her own. Unless Jack knew how to pick locks or pry bars from windows they may be stuck as far as sneaking in is concerned.
His question posed caught her attention, pulled her eyes in a semi-delayed speed back up to his, shadowed and accented by ridiculous eyebrow(s) that she had convinced herself to find endearing with a bit of love-knotted help. She lifted one of her own eyebrows, much more well groomed and less severe to begin with. This was when she provided her comment, and the continued on while looking back forward.
"I hope your next crazy statement is going to elaborate on this information, though. That's pretty vague."
Jack
"Let's say," he says, nod nod nodding, nod nod nodding two times over, as if to measure the cadence of his thoughts, "that I do not know what information I'm looking for, precisely. It has the benefit of being true if we say that," Jack says, with a half-glance toward Molly's face, and he doesn't really adopt sheepishness ever, but there is certainly rue. "However, what I'm hoping to find is some information on a Susannah Faulkner. An address, or perhaps insight into her monetary holdings," and he knows this is an invasion of privacy.
"You see, a ...contact of mine who has been on the trail of certain stories involving an End Times cult," he nod nod nods, again, this time giving the parking lot and the building a look over, "has suddenly seemed ... Ill. At ease. And half-mad." Rich, coming from Jacky. "I know this happened after some contact with this Susannah woman and I know, or think I know, that Susannah told my contact something which ..."
"Well now I want to know what Susannah said, or at least something about her before I attempt a confrontation."
[Let's give Jack a Percept + Alertness roll, too.]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 4, 6, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
Molly Toombs
It's with a small chuckle that Molly squeezed Jack's hand. "I'm having trouble imaging you confronting anyone. I haven't seen you be anything but pleasant."
She had listened to what he was saying, and was a quick-minded sharp-minded enough woman to follow the story that he was giving her. This Susannah woman had some kind of information that drove another man to possible madness. He needed to look into this, to know what this information was. She could appreciate that-- Molly had the spirit of an Explorer, an adventurer's soul. She also cherished information as the thing that both endangered her to her very bones and soul, and simultaneously managed to be the thing that kept her alive. It was a precarious balance, Molly Toombs's existence.
Soon enough, Molly's feet slowed, and with her other hand she pointed up to point out the cameras for Harald who was Jacky; she couldn't be sure of how much he was able to pick out on his own.
"There's cameras there and there. That one's definitely on, I don't know that I'd chance the other one being off either." Then, pointing down and across-- "The fence is cut over there, but besides that...." She shook her head, indicating that it would be a dead end.
"We may have to knock, Jacky."
Jack
He watches her point out the cameras and listens to her assessment with a flick of his eyebrows, as if he's surprised; he is surprised but pleased. "You really are a pair of sharp eyes," he tells her.
"Let's try the fence. Maybe there will be a better entrance. If not," a pause. "What do you know about security cameras?"
A beat. For her response. Stroll around the perimeter, as casual as possible. His stride still wants to be a lope.
And as they're striding, or perhaps Molly is suggesting more vehemently that really they could just try knocking, coming back during business hours (the place looks closed, doesn't it?), he adds: "I hope I can manage to be pleasant even in a confrontation. There's rarely any need to get violent or to terrorize. I'm not built for terrorizing," and he sounds sad, not that he can't terrorize, but - just sad. There's a note of it.
He's not built as he'd like to be, poor ugly Jacky.
"I hope too I can be brave in the face of monsters! That is the real test, isn't it?"
Molly Toombs
Molly smiled, pleased with the compliment. Molly was very attentive, very aware of her surroundings. It could be considered another part of what's kept her alive this long, as it could at least be contributed to her not being caught off-guard or by surprise very often at all. It was a skill that also made her useful, and she knew full well that her continued permission to live with what she kept in her brain hinged exclusively on her usefulness and potential for.
"Not much," she had to admit when it came to security cameras, though. "That they only have a certain range, but I don't know how accurate I'd be at gauging where that range is..." She was in agreement with his suggestion to try the fence and go from there, so she let go of his hand and followed with, prepared to use that hand now for things like pushing back fence and maybe even climbing fire escapes, who knew?
They walked, and they talked. Continued conversation made them look less suspicious anyways. Molly's hands slipped into the pockets of her hoodie, and she nodded along with him where it was appropriate while listening. Smiled bracingly, affectionately, and bumped her elbow lightly to his arm (hey, it's okay, I like you even if you aren't built to terrorize).
"I'm sure you already have been, Jacky. We've both seen monsters. I'm sure you've been just as brave to their faces, probably even moreso than me."
Jack
"Do you think so? I know you've been uncertain lately," he says, hesitating over the word 'uncertain.' "But, hmm." Now they're at the fence and the hole cut there-in: Jack slips through. It would normally be more gentlemanly for him to let Molly go first, but since they're going into the terrifying dangers of an abandoned parking lot outside a Scientology (?) building, then it behooves him to go first: right?
He waits for her to come through as he finishes his thought: "Don't you believe you've been brave when confronted with them? You've been brave confronted with me."
A cursed young man.
Now, Molly is indeed sharp. Here are more things she notices. The parking lot has two cars, one which is a rusted clunker of a thing, and probably somebody's second car left over night. The other looks like a maintenance van, but also like it belongs there. The rusted clunker of a thing might have a person attached but it doesn't scream 'secretary's car' or anything like that. There is a wide entrance that she just sees now, across the parking lot; it is bordered by four pillars, a flight of stairs, something vaguely - what were they going for? Something Egyptian, maybe, although there are no hieroglyphics or anything else to point out 'Egyptian' other than a vague sense due to the placement of the pillars and the stairs and a square planter with some dead rushes.
She can see where somebody had drawn a chalk hopscotch.
She can see a ledge that looks good for climbing, if one was going to be climbing out of the second floor, can see the ledge wrap around going to a side of the building she hasn't seen yet.
She can see a quarter on the ground.
Molly Toombs
Right, it certainly does behoove them to let Jack go first. Molly was an intellectual, you see. She was an adventurer, yes, but she would never consider herself a first line of defense for anyone or anything. Even pigeon-chested Jacky would probably be better use in conflict than Molly figured she would be (though she underestimated herself, for Molly could take a hit; it came from spending so much of her professional life holding down those who fight and taking fists and feet and knees and elbows to all parts of her body when patients would not cooperate). So, Jack stepped through the fence, and Molly followed. She had to move more slowly and angle herself differently and wriggle a little to fit through the opening. Remember, she was an ample-bodied thing.
The question he asked, and how he framed and qualified it, had Molly chuckling a little again. She adjusted her shirt and hoodie both on the inside of the fence-- they'd caught and tugged up out of place a little while she was squeezing through. "You're hardly a monster, Jacky." She continued speaking, her tone of voice somewhat absent while her eyes skimmed their surroundings, took in what she could see from this new side of the building.
"...I believe that I've been brave enough. But were I braver, perhaps, I would have found a better kind of brave to be. I'd probably be in fewer 'situations'."
Again, an arm swept up, finger pointing the path to guide Jacky's eyes if he didn't see what she was explaining already. "I'd like to make sure the back door is locked for sure before even trying this, but if you really want in it looks like we may have to climb the fire escape then shimmy the ledge to another window without bars...." She frowned, and leaned to the side some as though to try and see around the building's other side from the same spot.
"I'm not sure about whether any of those windows would be a way in, though. And frankly that's more acrobatics than I'm comfortable with." Molly was sturdy and athletic, but didn't have the build for hugging walls.
Jack
[Percept + Tech (Security)]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 3, 4) ( fail )
Jack
He doesn't bring the conversation back to bravery or situations or monsters just now. They're about to try to assay the fortress and what a fortress it is! Jack is staring at the cameras Molly brought to his attention (?), and looking speculatively at the building's entrance and the windows. He's quite good at spotting the little tricks that security firms employ; he can see a trick now. He says, "Do you see that fake bird in the bush? A false owl," he assures her, quickly. All owls are false but he doesn't say that. "I recognize it; it's one of those nanny cam things. As long as we stay out of its line of sight we're good. I think I see another one over there," over there, being the corner of the building.
There is a fake bird in the bush; those rushes. There is one on the top of the building. Hidden cameras? Maybe. Jacky ducks and weaves to avoid their gaze. It is very fucking ridiculous.
Then he looks back expectantly at Molly.
Molly, when she leaned to the side to get a better gander of the other side of the building: sees a few square planters with more rushes. A tree, although not an easy to climb tree. A trellis which might hold weight and has some grape vines wintering on it. A movement in a window which, if she watches it for a second, will reveal itself to be some kind of fan that somebody left on. The ledge she spied which looks good to climbing continues to go all the way around. There's a gap; either long legs or a short jump could clear it, and then it continues around to the back of the building. There's another fire escape, but this one is a ladder, partially covered and therefore not all that useful as a fire escape.
Molly Toombs
False owls are spied, when pointed out, and Molly nodded along with Jack to show she understood. He believed there were cameras in them. Molly supposed that possible, but she recognized fake owls like that as existing typically for keeping pest birds at bay in neighborhoods and markets.
Still, she crept along outside of the line of sight of those plastic birds, along after Jack, even though she wondered aloud: "Why would they have nanny cams and security cameras?"
Still, though, they slunk and crept. As they did, Molly peered and examined further. A fan upstairs had her on edge for a second, unsure of who may be upstairs, but the movement was soon dismissed for mechanical and they continued on.
It's with doubt in her voice that Molly confesses: "If that back door is locked, Jacky, I don't know how we'll get in."
Jack
"I'm good with locked doors," Jack assures her. Because: isn't that reassuring to know? One's scholarly occult geeky nerd of a friend is good with getting into locked places. "Sometimes."
Was he wearing gloves? His player does not remember; if he was not, he takes a glove out of his pocket and puts it on. Foresight. Then he tries the door, and it is locked. "Should we try the back door first?"
Letting her call the shots; trusting her opinion.
Molly Toombs
Molly keeps near behind Jack, not close enough to run into him if he were to stop shortly, but near enough that she could reach out and grab onto his sweater if she felt the need. She stood upright and comfortable, trying not to look so suspicious once she was out of line of sight of where the owls faced, and tucked her hands into the snug back pockets of her jeans as she stretched and looked around.
"I figure if anyone's here they'd probably be nearer to the back door anyways-- I mean, if someone's here cleaning or doing repairs."
She glanced about, to make sure the coast was clear, then looked back to Jack. Or, more specifically, to his gloved hands. Like she was curious to see him at work. She let him know this much with her smirk and meeting of eyes.
"Besides, I'm curious to see you in action."
Jack
[Shit. A challenge. -1 BP to Dex. Dex + Larceny + WP. LET'S DO THIS.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 1, 2, 4, 6, 10) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Jack
He eyes the lock for a moment and then takes from his hoody pocket a lockpick's (or locksmith's - they're the same thing, officer, would you like to see my business cards or my credentials?) wallet. Then he crouches down and begins to work. The lock is old. Not so old that it's an easy lock to pick, and he puts a good deal of effort into it, listening close and careful to the sounds it makes, or maybe that's an old wives' tale and a bit of showman ship, that air of listening closely. He frowns but it's a frown of concentration and after a good four minutes the lock makes a sound Molly can hear and Jack gets up, brushing off his knees, and reaches for the door with his gloved hand again, and opens it -
- into darkness.
"Did you remember that flashlight?"
Molly Toombs
For the first thirty seconds or so Molly had watched Jacky working intently. Then she remembered she should be looking out. During the first minute of looking out she would glance back periodically. Finally, though, she settled for letting the man work without leering over his shoulder and instead stood with her eyes cast out and about, watchful of motion and shapes in particular.
While she watched and waited, one hand let fingertips rest gentle between Jack's shoulder blades.
Then, the click, and Molly glanced back once more.
They were in.
"Yeah," was Molly's answer, and she ducked her head to look into her tote bag, digging around and searching more with her hand than her eyes until she was able to pull forth a heavy mag-light-- you know, the big angry ones that could double for bludgeoning weapons. She held it out to Jack and looked at him with her eyebrows raised and expression clear: It's your lead.
This was his recovery mission, after all.
Molly Toombs
[Wits 4 + Investigation 1: Sleuthing]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Jack
[Jack, ditto.]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
Molly Toombs
[Perception 3 + Awareness 1]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 7, 10) ( success x 2 )
Molly Toombs
[Dexterity 3 + Stealth 1, spending WP so as not to screw the whole thing up and look a fool]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 6, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Jack
[Dex + Stealth + Specialty, perhaps.]
Dice: 9 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )
Jack
[So 4, perhaps.]
Jack
[Jack, you also have Awareness, you fool.]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 5, 6, 8) ( success x 2 )
Molly Toombs
[Intelligence 3 + Computers 1: Hey, maybe there's some files just laying around electronically?]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 5, 9) ( success x 1 )
Jack
[Same roll. Who knows?]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 6) ( success x 2 )
Jack
Bludgeoning, cold and angry: the Brujah of flashlights is the heavy mag-light in Molly's hand.
They've been out on a number of adventures now: Molly and Jack. Jack and Molly. Those adventures have sometimes been hypothetical ones: the trawling over of theories -- the working-out of occult truths or (often) philosophical truths. He has trusted her with the secret of his lost reflection (and it is a secret he often seeks to keep from his allies. They'd wonder at it if they were all aware. They'd wonder at it and perhaps they'd ask him to do things that he does not want to do) and some part of the quest which motivates him night after night to rise and go forth. He's a hopeful Jack. A dreamer. They've shared coffee and they've gone dancing and they've heard bands and they've frequented bookstores, quiet relics of a fading age. They've gone on walks with Florence and he is very good with animals, our Jack. They've found strange things in a graveyard. They've found stranger common ground in the way they've brushed up against dark things not mortal. And now they're breaking (nothing technically broken) and entering what seems to be a Scientology building.
Molly knows Jack. Knows This Face and knows something of the True Jack or what's left of a True Jack. She knows This Face is perhaps too reckless when it comes to danger, and he is not a physically imposing man (or kindred - let's tell the truth). He grins when she takes out the mag-light and it's a surprisingly sweet grin. His grins always are. His own flash-light is not half-so-heavy-duty.
Adventure!
The locksmith's (liesmith's) wallet has returned to his hoody and he pulls the hood up over his scraggly waif-drifting curls. He tells her they need an office or a file room. The receptionist's desk has nothing of note. Molly finds a flier for a club called The Church with a note scrawled on it To------nd. Something about that flier has to catch her eye; some story that she might remember later; she even feels something through her fingertips touching it but she isn't one for premonitions or hauntings.
It doesn't sound like there's anybody else in the building, but it never hurts to be quiet. They're both as quiet as they can be tonight. Their footsteps are dull on the carpets. Jack keeps his flashlight low and doesn't flash it toward any windows. They find a little waiting room which looks like it's a place for children to play while their parents are doing other things, resembling nothing so much as a pediatrician's waiting room right down to the magazines like Highlights and KidZone and TigerBeat. Games of wires with blocks but no posters about the common cold or vaccinations. The posters are all about Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health. Dianetics And You. You're Never Too Young For Dianetics! Posters of the cosmos. Bridges. The Bridge to Total Freedom.
They find another room which also seems to be a waiting room. This one is behind a curtain and it is locked but that's not much trouble. Molly found keys hanging by a janitor's door and those keys open all the doors. Inside the second waiting room are a number of bookcases and on those bookcases some books which probably interest both Molly and Jack, at least in passing. Books on economics, certainly, but also books on reincarnation, books on visitors from other systems, books on ethics and books on aliens, books on indigo children and books by Hubbard himself, books about the Thetans, books about the beginning of the world. The Scientology Equivalent of a Magician's Cave. The ARC Triangle. Triangles are everywhere:
so is the Church of Scientology's cross. It looks a lot like a Christian cross. Never let it be said Scientology can't market things well.
Jack finds evidence of a gunfight in one of the smaller rooms past the waiting rooms. These smaller rooms are sterile and windowless. Washed only in the glow of flashlights every shadow seems sharper, more apt to leap into a form that has claws which snatch and teeth which tear, and the silence begins to press hard and to press fast, so maybe Molly turns on a light in one of these windowless rooms, because what's the harm? It just chases the shadows away but makes the shadows in the hall seem that much thicker. Maybe Molly doesn't turn on a light. The rooms have a table, test-taking applications. They find some questionnaires stacked and ready to go.
There's an office belonging to one of the auditors ("Equivalent of priests I suppose; every cult needs its priests," Jacky says, quiet and fascinated), and in that they finally find a computer state of the art. Cracking the computer isn't easy, but together they manage to do so. It hums as they explore and Jacky has a thumbdrive handy because Jacky is prepared and the sound of a printer is very loud and although he has been dreaming in this world that is dark dark so dark a blot and a blight his bones blight-sorcelled he does try to keep up with the times. He can't help it: how he listens to people talk. How he pays attention so close and sharp and as words are given to flat screens of light and shadow why then he must go there because that is what his lineage does: go where the information is and where one can hide one's face because one's face is a blight.
They find some addresses and some names. Jack makes a sound when he sees one of them. There she is: Susannah Faulkner. There's another password for reading her file and they can't crack that. There is a billing address, some monetary information. There's also an interesting looking tangle of memos in the auditor's e-mail (the auditor's name appears to be Steve Tanaka) regarding a legal issue and a poisonous material found in the ground of a building out in the suburbs which the Church of Scientology apparently leases instead of owns outright in order to reach people there. Molly notices a reference which could be to some esoteric teaching but is too vague and subtle to really pull out. The Scientologists aren't known for their clarity to outsiders, are they? The Scientologists are sueing another Church, the Church of the Transcendental Revelation of the Emissary, for fraudalent representation and -- there's a lot to read. But it looks shady. Religious institutions fighting is always shady, especially when they start out so damned shady.
This is when Jack realizes that one of the keys on the keyring Molly found is actually labeled file room and he draws it to her attention. Maybe they have hard copies?
They do have hard copies. To go to the file room they have to go up, not down as one might expect. This is not a story about basements and darkness there. They go up, and this is where they have to be very careful with those flashlights. Going up, they pass through a room that looks as much like a gathering space as any: but it is still very sterile, very clean, all sweeping lines and there's where the money is to make that one room seem modern enough to be a spaceship and rocket up.
Up on the second floor, none of the keys work for the doors along one wall. They can deduce from what they saw outside that this means those doors go into the other building (this was a split-building, a duplex, remember), and that the Church of Scientology does not own that one.
The file room is intimidating: black filing cabinets everywhere, a labyrinth of them, and they're barely labelled and the labels are in pencil. So much for space age technology, huh? So much for money and wealth. There's an old cup of coffee, the coffee inside it stone cold.
And no sign of anybody, anywhere.
Molly Toombs
Of all the adventures that she's gone on with Jack, Molly couldn't remember any outside the realm of their own conversations and thoughts that didn't involve shadows and slinking about. Each had their own flashlights, and Molly's would be able to double as a weapon, which was honestly her intention. She wasn't any more imposing than Jack was, medium-sized and curvy and very feminine as she was, but Molly was at least capable.
At least, in the realm of humans and the mundane he was.
There isn't much to talk about when you're slinking-- conversation is nothing but an exchange of whispers between them here and there, punctuating long monologues of silence and exploration. Molly had spied a ring of keys someplace, large and heavy and clearly belonging to a janitor or other maintenance man. She was pleased with her discovery, and managed the key ring while simultaneously keeping hold of the mag-light. She kept the beam away from the windows and would shield its strong beam with her hand when they went around corners and into rooms. They were quiet-footed and careful in general. Keen of eye, too.
They were alone, from the sound of it. As far as they could tell anyways. Molly was curious about the books but was realistic and on task. She knew they shouldn't be there and wanted to minimize their time within the building as much as possible; if Jack would lag with curiosity over things like book spines and posters Molly would continue forward and urge him along with.
She doesn't turn on any lights, the only thing Molly turns on is the computer that they find. She sat in the chair, navigating, while Jack peered and pointed at the screen to aid in her search. There-- the name they wanted. Some lawsuits too, this church was suing another. This whole time she was tense and on edge, mind you. Before she had been curious and cautious, now that had grown into a sense of muted urgency and paranoia. The bullet holes in the wall that Jack had brought to her attention had unsettled Molly. She's had a gun trained on her, and didn't much want to repeat the experience any time soon.
But there! A key marked 'file room'. Perhaps the information they couldn't access by password would be there. So, they went up-- up up up to a hallway with rooms that had doors that wouldn't unlock for them. One would, though, and it was a room of dust and black cabinets. Molly peered at one of the labels in the beam of her flashlight and groaned quietly. "This might take some time...."
Then, musingly, more to herself than to Jack but loud enough in this grave-silent room for him to hear: "Well it has to be organized somehow...."
Jack
"Let us hope."
He smiles at her and this time the smile is rueful; she can see that he is a bit pinched, not in pain, but pinched around the eyes because, although he does not seem paranoid, does not seem worried about people finding them for all he maintains an air of caution and does pause to listen as the sound of sirens in the distance grows closer and closer and then wails off into another distance because it's a dark world and things in the dark world are always happening that require sirens like mourning women wailing a psalm, because although he is not all those things, does not feel urgent, he is frustrated by the lack of organization. Jack is not somebody who likes the clutter or the mess of finding things out, necessarily; he does not revel in the complicated knot of it. He likes knowledge for knowledge's sake; the journey - well. The journey is nothing; knowledge is just a stepping stone to something greater - get it?
But he smiles at her and touches her arm briefly; then in they go, wading through files. An organization does present itself eventually; alphabetical and messy. Faulkner, Faulkner, Faulkner.
There are eleven files for a Faulkner, and five of them are for an S.
But wait. That cabinet over there also has eleven files for a Faulkner. Four of them are for an S. Molly finds Susannah's file over there, empty of everything except for two sheets of paper. She's a nurse; she knows how to read crabbed bureaucratic handwriting. The paper has an address different from her billing address and a list of spouses and assets; it also lists her level of initiation into the church; lists next of kin, Eleanor, Abelard. The second sheet of paper is a hospital chart, dated January 2014, and Molly's keen eye detects that something is hinky with the hospital chart indeed.
Looks like Susannah was in for a minor surgery, was being treated as if she had the usual allergies, but two of the medications on her chart would react against each other, nullifying the effect of one and turning the other into a problem.
Jack is taking pictures of the other file with his phone;
and then he looks up and toward the door.
He does this at the same time that Molly does this, perhaps. Because Jack, like Molly, feels this subcutaneous prickle like something working under his skin; feels a presentiment of light on his tongue. It's not an eerie prickle, haunted and dark, but it is something, some Thing, some Thing, a Feeling about some Thing in the hall.
They both hear a movement.
Time to go, maybe.
Molly Toombs
There is no love of the knot of disorganization and searching in Molly's bones. She wasn't so impatient with it as Jack was (though he did an admirable job of hiding this frustration and keeping that sweet, sweet air of patience and comfort with his little mortal sleuth nearby). She saw the necessity of it, and found it simply to be a part of the process of finding knowledge and information. She couldn't always expect to be so lucky as to have vampires vomiting details into her lap, and wasn't going to plan on having that always be the case. She couldn't trust anyone to tell her everything, after all, so Molly had to know how to find details on her own.
Eventually the system is figured out-- alphabetical order, naturally. It was easy enough from there to find Faulkner, S., and to continue their search.
The two turn away from one another to examine individual filing cabinets, and while Jack may have been pawing through manila folders, flitting with fingertips to find details printed on paper that would serve useful, Molly's rustling grew silent as her eyes worked to comb the medical sheet of detail. This was something that Molly could understand, and her own personal experience in the field of medicine allowed her to catch the faults to this document.
"This is curious... Jacky, why would someone--..." But she trailed off, quieted when she sensed something off. It was an electric tingle under her skin, something not Usual or Normal. This extra sense, a sixth-seventh-or-eighth, was something that Molly was becoming a little more familiar with. She could sense when things Weren't Right, and was beginning to understand that there were different sensations that meant different things. This didn't make her sweat cold or feel the stress of panic and terror building up in her throat, but it was still distinct, still worth noting.
Molly's eyes focused to the deep dark shadows of the hallway, and then turned to Jack. Wide, worried, questioning.
Jack
Jack quietly returns the files he's looking at to the file drawer; quietly, trying to be quiet, closes the drawer too. Now it will sound so loud, that click as the drawer locks back into place. He circles over to Molly, and there is understanding in his eyes - understanding and perhaps also surprise. She heard it too. Felt it; she'd trailed. They'd both felt it - oh, Molly, Molly who's never going to unravel herself from the dark world, never going to be unknotted, never going to be unglutted, unclotted.
"We should go," he mouths more than he says, but she can read the intention of his breath in the dark. He switches off his flashlight just in case, and it is very, very dark in that room.
He'll go first, poking his head around the door and sweeping the hall with a look.
[Notice Things, Jack? Perception Specialty: Hidden Things.]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 4 )
Molly Toombs
[Perception + Alertness: I'm helpful and peeking around too!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 5, 5, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )
Jack
[Things wot need rolling.]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 3, 7, 7, 7) ( success x 3 )
Jack
[More things.]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 4, 7, 9) ( success x 2 )
Molly Toombs
[Another! Perception + Alertness]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )
Molly Toombs
We should go.
The message is read on lips with eyes more than it is heard by ears, and Molly looked to Jack who had joined her side, blinked once, and nodded her agreement. But, first, she looked down and fished her phone from her pocket. Turned the mag-light's beam onto the document she was holding-- the medical one-- and snapped a picture with the phone. The device was on silent, so there was no electric shutter-click sound byte to accompany the action.
The document was then tucked back into the cabinet and the drawer closed, gently and quietly as can be. The phone was returned to her pocket, and Molly's feet carried her toward the hallway, along after Jack. Taking his lead, she switched the flashlight off soon after he did. She did keep hers out, though, not in case she needed a light again so much as in case she needed to hit someone or something with it. She didn't like the uncomfortable skin-tingling in her flesh and along the back of her neck.
Out into the hallway they go, Jacky leaning his body out first. Molly's hand sought out the side of his hoodie and grasped, a subconscious unwillingness to be separated. She couldn't see anything, but she peered into the shadows all the same.
Molly Toombs
[Dex 3 + Stealth 1]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (4, 5, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )
Jack
[Jack, are you stealthy? I think he spent a point for dex earlier.]
Dice: 9 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 5 )
Molly Toombs
[Perception + Alertness: Come on, Moll!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 )
Jack
He hears something.
He hears something that Molly doesn't, but he's had decades to hear things in the dark and she's had -- what, two of them? He's had a fair number more than that, and most of them spent without more than a dream of daylight and photographs of people lit-up by radiance brighter than the moon. He barely believes in it sometimes; he doesn't think about it.
He hears something so he leads Molly toward a different stair than the one they took to get to the second floor. He hears something and she doesn't and that sense of Otherness spreads, opens wide like a dawning; but then grows distant as they creep back down.
He'd reached back for her hand once she'd grabbed his hoody and he'd noticed. Holds it unless she wants her hand's freedom.
When they're on the bottom floor again, this is what they notice, what Molly notices: the darkness is more tenebrous; and there is a person's shadow lying across the ground, stretching from one of the waiting rooms behind the receptionist's desk toward the door. There is nobody there to throw that shadow, but so it stretches.
[Does Jack notice the shadow?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )
Molly Toombs
[Willpower: Hold it together]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 6, 6, 8) ( success x 3 )
Molly Toombs
On the upper floor Molly was all but flying blind. She didn't see anything in the shadows-- no odd shapes or casts. She couldn't hear anything-- no huffed breaths or scuffed shoes. She couldn't sense anything more than the general and initial discomfort and sense of Otherworldiness that she'd known before. So when Jack moved in a new direction, Molly trusted him (because she did trust him, so totally and completely and purely, without doubt of the sweetness and good intention there) to know where he was taking them.
He reached for her hand and she seized at his, wrapped her fingers up with his so that they wouldn't become lost or pulled apart. That had happened before when trying to flee a sense of not-rightness, and even still the panic and unspent rage and fear in Nate's voice when he screamed through the door right back to her made Molly's chest clench. She didn't want that to happen with Jacky as well.
Down a new staircase they went, and into a hall that she knew from before. She recognized the waiting rooms and where they were positioned in this part of the building. What was new and unfamiliar, though, was the dense stickiness to how the shadows looked.
The fact that they threw a shadow that no one was there to cast.
Molly's face crumpled when she registered what she was seeing, and if Jack were to look and see it would seem as though the expression was exhaustion rather than sheer terror or fear. She felt stopped by this thing she was seeing, held up and hindered, more than she felt caught or immediately threatened. The intellectual on-the-spot part of her brain coolly reminded her, though, that her own sense of threat didn't measure realistically to her actual levels of danger too often. She did align herself with Vampires, after all (apparently, word has it if you listen close and listen enough).
She squeezed Jack's hand and stopped walking and stared at what she was seeing. Silent.
Molly Toombs
[Perception + Occult]
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (1, 2, 4, 5, 8, 10) ( success x 2)
Jack
The nurse has been spending most of her free time (precocious) delving into stories of the occult and folklore and legends. Hasn't she? Hasn't she just. Looking at the shadow that seems to have nobody casting it a few memories of recent or not so recent readings occur to her.
There are some people who claim to have come in contact with 'shadow people,' people who are just what they sound like: people made of shadows, usually male, with inscrutable motives. They're usually so dark that you can't see through them and they are sentient and they want something, every story there is about them they want something. They are often described as malevolent: they'll jump on your chest and choke you, they'll weigh you down and drag your soul out've your mouth when they fasten their mouths on you. Of course some people don't think the 'shadow people' are malevolent. Some people have posited they're extradimensional figures, not quite ghosts, and that they're not malevolent at all, but rather they're just like you or I. What else occurs to her? There are people who give their shadows up to the Devil, and then the Devil sends those shadows out on errands -- that doesn't sound good. There are wizards and sorcerers who give up their shadows to command unholy powers and the shadows become their Fetch, doing deeds for them that they wouldn't themselves do. Ghosts are not supposed to manifest shadows but aren't they sometimes mistaken for shadows?
Skeptics say sleep paralysis and mental fatigue are responsible for imagining shadows separate from people. A number of factors, utterly reasonable. Medication side effects. Hallucinations. Sleep deprivation.
There just aren't a lot of happy stories about shadowy figures in the world of the occult. Maybe she's run across one folkstory where what the people thought was a menacing figure turned out to be a suicide mother's spirit come back from Hell in order to protect, Damned but not without redemption.
--
Jack does look. Molly stops and he isn't stopping and he looks at her. He reads her expression or what seems to be her expression: exhaustion limned in a block, a hindrance. He squeezes her hand back and says - " - what is it?" A flicker not of impatience but as if he is readying himself (curious, avidly so) to sally forth.
The shadow moves. Molly knows it moves; tilts its hat like it's watching them, and gathers itself like it's going to move.
The door's right there. Freedom is near.
Lights on in the parking lot, pale and flickering.
Molly Toombs
Jack must not be able to see the shadow, that's what Molly surmised. Otherwise he would have either stopped himself, or he would have reassured her instead of asked her what it was that she'd noticed. He looked back at her, didn't appear bothered but was prepared to continue forward. There were bullet holes in these walls and suspicious documents and stories that didn't match up. He was as ready to get out of here as she was.
But that Shadow... It could be one of any number of things that this apprentice occultist had learned about. Most of them were Not Good News-- either servants of warlocks or the Devil Himself, or simply evil beings of their own accord. Sure, there was a chance that this thing cared little about her and Jack and would let her pass, but there's was a heavier chance that it would attack. Jack had already lost his reflection and whatever part of himself that might be attached to it, Molly didn't want him to lose his soul too. She didn't much want to know what it felt like to lose it herself.
It's with her head that she nodded forward, and with her hand that she gestured.
When she spoke her voice didn't tremble, but it was thin with stress.
"A Shadow without a Body. A guard?"
Jack
[Jack, are you alert now?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (6, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 7 )
Jack
[Une Occult?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (4, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 5 )
Jack
[Une Noddist Lore?]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 4, 9) ( success x 1 )
Jack
Molly draws his attention to the strangeness of the shadow and the way it lies, and by doing so she sharpens Jack's attention to the utmost. Jack. Jack's can be noticing sorts, can' they; can notice how many flies are dead in a fly trap, can see the lines where the secretery usually rolls her chair dirt smudged there ingrained of long hours spent in repetition; can hear when the air conditioning stops, the fullness of another room; can notice a lot - and finally now sees the shadow, what it is doing (nothing [an innocent shadow - but there are no such things]), and she can feel in the vampire (he's not a vampire) a stiffening as he does notice it.
This does nothing to the note of clear intrigue, the inquiring cant of his head, that Molly can hear in his voice when he replies, "What did we do which roused it so late, then, I wonder? Or what have we inspired it to be protective of?"
"I can hear," he drops his voice so he's practically whispering, "somebody else in here. We should still go," regretful? "Perhaps if we do not allow it touch us; a hop skip and a jump away."
The situation hasn't changed. They still need to go. He's giving her a chance to make a different suggestion before he goes ahead with rushing the door, for a given value of rush (in this case, sidle, hurriedly).
Molly Toombs
The man beside her is lean, on the taller side of mid-height, and ugly as sin. But Molly is attune to him, drawn to him on a supernatural level. She believes that they have bonded as close friends over the last several months, that their mutual knowledge of the Unreal and shared experiences have drawn them close. This is what she cites as the reason for why she senses the way Jack goes tight and stiff beside her, and knows that he sees now what she saw. Perhaps-- no, probably, he sees and understands it better. He was better at these things, perhaps at it longer.
He pondered about the Shadow, but stated a more pressing concern-- there was another person in the building, and they weren't supposed to be here. They had to go, but he wanted Molly to lead. She glanced back behind, up the hallway. She knew there was a back entrance.
But there, just up ahead was the front door. The one through which they had come, which they knew they could get it with no trouble.
No trouble except that Shadow.
Molly wavered a little on the spot, swallowed, then took a breath that was meant to give her resolve but only halfway faked it really. Action had to be taken and would be, of course, but the furrow to Molly's brow suggested she was doubtful still even as she delicately and cautiously began to creep toward the front door-- to test and see if she could make her way past the shadow without harm.
Molly Toombs
[Dexterity 3 + Wits 4 + ?]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )
Jack
[Jack: +7]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )
Jack
[Shadow: +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )
Jack
[Other Things Probably Not Relevant +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )
Jack
Jack is stealthsome, usually, isn't he? Stealthsome is what Jack wants to remain, as he edges toward the door. He'd turned his flashlight off and he remembers it now with a twitch of the hand in Molly's; goes to pull it from his hoody's pouch, being careful as one can in a dark foyer to avoid any solid looking shadows. Get to the door. Open it. Maybe run, but we'll see.
Shadows really are stealthsome. They don't make a noise at all. This shadow doesn't make a noise as it unpeels itself from the room behind the desk and drifts across the room; to Molly it must feel like a block of her vision, because it's strange to see it, crawling, crawling and creeping like that, like it could be a man but it's not dark enough for men to be nothing but shadows, and the Shadow is definitely taking an interest in Jack and Molly. It seeks to get near enough to lift its hand. Is there darkness in its face, yawning wider? Where a mouth might be? Spreading to take in the whole of its head?
Somewhere else in the building, somebody else really is doing things. Molly hadn't heard them before but they were avoiding them--staying just ahead. And now that 'them,' that other person, is creeping back to the foyer too. Irrelevant, for now.
And Molly, well...
Molly Toombs
Molly had started to move forward ahead of Jack, still careful with her steps, with the toes of her shoes, cautious not to scuff and make sound. The pupils of her eyes were large, taking as much light as they could to distinguish this shadow from the rest of the room that it lingered in. She could see it well and clear-- not so much as Jack, but Molly was faster to move, faster to react than he was.
No doubt they both saw it, the fact that the Shadow's head seemed to change-- to spread, to grow, to open. Perhaps it's because Molly is jumpier, but she moves in reaction to this, in reaction to the seize of panic in her heart. A panic that screamed: It's going to eat us, eat our souls, do something do something!
Jack had turned off his flashlight. Molly swung hers up and turned it on with the beam aimed at the Shadow thing's head and shoulders as it approached and stretched and reached.
Jack
[Shadow]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 6, 9) ( success x 2 )
Jack
[Shadow again]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 2, 3, 7) ( success x 1 )
Jack
Light isn't always enough to banish the dark.
Jack could tell her so. So could the Lasombra she trusts in. Light is not enough to banish the abyss; but this is not abyssal, this Shadow-man thing, and when Molly flashes her mag-light at him turns it on floods him with light all at once the shadow is stark without any natural darkness or gloom to make him-it seem normal and its arms come together as if to protect its head. It diminishes, edges bleeding away into scraps of shadow that are only shadow and light does banish those; it seems to have moved back a good five steps too, although it hasn't disappeared, doesn't disappear. Shutter-step, and it ducks to a crouch on the floor by the desk taking refuge in that. The air shivers.
Jack opens the fucking door.
Molly Toombs
[Perception 3 + Alertness 3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 1, 2, 4, 6) ( success x 1 )
Jack
[Other Thing stealthystealth]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (6, 8, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 5 )
Molly Toombs
Relief flooded through Molly, and the woman's arms and knees nearly grew weak with the sensation. But they didn't sag enough for her to swoon, and she was able to keep the flashlight trained on the thing of shadow. She knew she was going out on a limb-- she didn't have a precise number, but she knew it was only a percentage that floated around half if she was lucky that the beam of light would fend the thing off.
Thankfully, it worked, and Jacky made his way unhindered to the door. Molly kept the light on the shadow thing and moved backward along after Jack. Her eyes hopped away from the Shadow, who now cowered and tried to find safety from the light-- Molly almost felt bad for the thing, but didn't trust it enough to take pity and shift the beam of light off it. She was unwilling to take the risk for its sake, when it came down to it.
For a moment she looked away from it, glanced about and tried to listen to see if the other person in the building was catching on to them yet. She heard nothing, presumed that the person was preoccupied with whatever task they were present with in the first place (probably a cleaning lady or something). So Molly glanced back over her shoulder to where Jacky was, and if the door was open enough her next move would be to leave.
Jack
The door is open enough; Jack doesn't go through the door, but urges Molly to come with his hands. His gaze is tense beyond Molly, careful and cautious and alert. He seems defined by alertness, far more so than he ever has in Molly's presence before, even with his pupils (including that distended one, like something went wrong, glaucoma, dripping) shrink because of the radiant light coming off of the mag. He's waiting for her before he makes any other move; that much is clear.
As for the shadow,
the shadow moves insidiously, it seeks to get away from the light; is going to stutter-step again, but this time quickly. It is going to rush them both at the door, catch their heels before they get through it. That is the idea; do shadows have ideas?
Molly Toombs
[Dexterity 3 + Athletics 2: WP: GO JACKY GO]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 5, 6, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Molly Toombs
In Molly's experience with hauntings and ghosts (and a part of her both shivered in dread and laughed bitter-ironic at the fact that she had experience with such things) things that existed on separate planes entirely, things that fell into an in-between sort of place between this physical world and others that must clearly exist, would only manifest within the boundaries of certain places.
Like when the ghosts at Nate's apartment tried to kill her but did not follow her to her own home. Or when the one at the observatory tried to pull herself and Lux into an inky pit in the wall.
The shadow shutter-lurched and charged toward them. Jack was standing with the door open, urging Molly toward him and the exit with his hands. Again steel-cold panic pierced her heart. She didn't even know that they could get away once the thing touched them. To focus on keeping the light on the Shadow would slow her, and they needed to get out of there. The exit was so close.
Molly hoped that she was right, and that the Shadow would not follow them past the doorway. She let the light fall and turned about, ran with a burst toward Jack and the door. A part of her worried for what she did next, as Jack was such a scrawny and lanky thing. She didn't want to cause him to spill to the ground and hurt himself, sincerely, but she was certain that a few bruises and scrapes would be better than what this thing could do to him.
So she shoved the poor man out the door as she rushed through it.
Molly Toombs
[Strength 2 + 2, Bashing Damage: Sorry honey!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 5, 9) ( success x 1 )
Jack
[Things that need rolling. Shadow.]
Dice: 5 d10 TN8 (3, 3, 5, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )
Jack
Molly rushes the door and the force of her rush sweeps Jacky up and sends him hurtling back, catching himself just barely, over the threshold and into the parking lot, onto the Scientology Building's doorstep with its pillars made to give it a vaguely Aegyptian air, with its supposed birdie nanny cams for security and its dark parking lot. There is a motorcycle parked in front which wasn't there when they arrived and began to poke around, a gleaming Harley Davidson.
The Shadow --
What shadow? There is no shadow. Now that they're outside, Jack having not quite gone sprawling but catching his balance on the side of his not-very-good shoes the rubber heel opening like a dragon sidekick in a Disney film to say 'so there' at the worst time, any glance back would show the darkness in the building is just a normal darkness, maybe something moving far back by the desk but that could be an imagined thing, a hallucination, a nothing much thing.
Unless Molly stops him, urges him to run run, once Jack has his balance back he's going to go to pull the door shut. But if she does urge him to run run, they're going to go tearing across the parking lot like a couple of kids playing ding dong door ditch to that hole in the fence.
Molly Toombs
Once out the door in a rush, Molly goes spilling down the stairs and onto the sidewalk in a hurry. Jack's beat-up shoes flapped open and nearly tripped him up, almost made him twist his ankle and go sprawling onto the sidewalk, but thankfully his reflexes were good enough to keep him alive and he managed to catch his balance before any of that came to be.
Once outside and down on the sidewalk Molly twisted around and looked back, but did not shine with her flashlight again. Inside the shadows appeared typically-- standard to what you would expect to see through the doorway into a building, not the inky abnormal black that came with Shadows lingering in the doorway to snatch you up when you got near again.
It's this visual confirmation that has Molly keeping quiet and still when Jacky started to creep forward to close the door back over again. Were he to glance back he'd find his companion anxious, barely containing it physically, her feet all but dancing in place while she waited for him to join her.
When the door was closed, when he'd come back down the stairs, Molly turned off her flashlight and tucked it away, hurried away from the guarded den and its mysteries.
Jack
And then they went somewhere warm and brightly lit to talk over their adventure. Little did they know:
More adventures were in store.
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