Travis isn't here

[Boy]

By sunset the house was quiet. Marrick had been at work all day, and would likely head to the Caern before coming home. Boy had found a note left by Wendy saying she would be at Dietrich's. That thought wasn't exactly comforting but he'd been told to have trust. Neither of them would do anything. He shook the thought off again and concentrated on the task at hand. He was in the basement. The washing machine was still. The boiler simmered in its corner as usual. He was filling negative space in a silk screening project. The only real sound down there was his own voice as he mumbled to himself occasionally. "Dunno which one I'm worried about. You're right, that's just silly."

[Boy]

Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 9, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6) (Perc+enigmas from the embarrassing example of an Uktena)

[Legendary]

....Silly... Came the echo. Soft and lazy, like someone spoken in an attempt to supersede the boredom in life. Boys' ears almost reflexively pluck the sound emanating from behind the boiler, still and reddish with rust and old lead paint.

[Boy]

His ears pricked and he turned, brows furrowed as he glares at the boiler, peeks around the empty basement, and stares at the boiler anew. That was different. Noticeably different. "Travis? That you?" He takes a step closer, staring curiously at the boiler.

[Legendary]

....Travis isn't here... The voice picks up, undulating as if the body attached to it were in mid-stretch, arms and fingers wiggling above the head and toes curling and flexing against some sort of soreness. The boiler remains inert and quiet. A boiler still.

[Boy]

"Who are you?" His voice comes huffed and quick as he tries to choke back his own fear. "Show yourself."

[Legendary]

The voice takes on an almost exaggerated warble of ghosts from televised moments. I am the ghost of Christmas Passsssstttt Followed closely by a churling laugh, that carries that same hollow echo, bouncing off the basement walls and stairwell. Something dances and flickers in spasms behind the boiler, where the shadows play darkest.

[Boy]

Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6) (Gnosis roll - Seeing what I can see)

[Legendary]

Boy's vision tunnels sharply as he separates the world of the Physical from the other side, using only his senses. His eyes leap out into the haze of the pattern web, tasting the brief click of spider legs and cold grip of static clinging to the walls and surroundings of the Scab... ...And finally peek through into the darkness of the Basement's interior, the shed of the night sky above, peeling through the transparent walls of the Pack House. His gaze finds little to occupy his attention. A few flickering movements from Rat gafflings and cockroaches, dissappearing into corners and shadows too thick within the penumbral landscape. ...yet when his eyes snap back into the basement's physical presence, someone is there waiting for him: Hunched and aged well beyond the comforts of youth, the old man is dressed in the remains of linens and blankets that look as if they have been sitting in a landfill for decades. Tattered and full of holes, with former pink bunnies peeking out in the blanket patterns here or there. He is barely an inch over five feet, legs and feet filthy and naked and Boy can just make out the far wall behind him...transparent as he is and staring at the young Philodox. Boo...

[Boy]

Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 7, 7 (Failure at target 6) (Willpower to see just how scared he is)

[Boy]

When his vision snaps back and he discovers he's not alone, Boy, Alpha of his pack, respected Cliath, looks about ready to piss his pants for a second, stumbling backwards. Of course its only a second. It's hard, in reality, to look truly scared when your body suddenly bulks up into something that looks like it was meant to take a beating. In homid he might give out a cry of shock. When he suddenly shifts to Glabro against his will, it sounds a touch more akin to a snarl.

[Legendary]

The Snarl is received without a hint of affecting the old fellow. Indeed, he seems for all intensive purposes, vaguely amused at the sudden growth of flesh and shrink of the room's occupancy capacity. ...What're you gonna do kiddo? a hand reaches out to wave at the Boiler...through the boiler, vanishing inside and appearing on the other, without a hint of effect on either the physical object or the man that is apparently before him. When you're ready to climb down from there, I think it's time we had a talk

[Boy]

"Who are you?" He demanded. In that voice it was hard to do much else. Cautiously, carefully, he took one step toward the...what...ghost? Then another step, still wary.

[Legendary]

The Old man waits for Boy to move forward, the Philodox's shadow nearly eclipsing the entirety of the spectre, his shape vanishing almost completely as the light is blocked from passing over him. My name's not really important kid. Not really, because I don't remember it. Haven't for quite some time now. What is important is the why I'm here a pause overtakes the old man as he simply...moves through Boy and onto his opposite side, back into the light without a hint of sensation coming to the Philodox during the movement. I found you because you're a little less closed off then the rest and I can't seem to get anywhere with anything else A nice way of saying that perhaps Boy was a bit touched. In the head.

[Boy]

The lack of sensation doesn't do anything to stop him from getting the chills. "Please don't do that again." he says ,and once he turns his body begins to shrink back into his birth form. "Alright old man. I'm listening. You need some kind of help?"

[Legendary]

...I know this is a little odd for you, just take a look at it from my perspective... The old man was eying Boy's work critically, tugging on the edges of the many blankets wrapped around his frame, gaze in those wrinkled features narrowing, a hand moving up to push the linens off the top of a bald head, rife with wispy tendrils of matted grey hair. ...I been around. A long time now, I tell you. Was the same back when I was street side, broke and miserable too A chuffing snort that bounces around the room for a small time ...Enough to know who I can talk to and who I can watch. Not all a' us got that, you know. Not all a' us can tell we're even gone just... Another pause, that vaguely squeaky voice, trailing away as the old man seems to get lost in something. A thought. A memory. Something. Just as Boy might be looking to say something, he snaps out of it and turns 'round to eye the Philodox with one sunken and wrinkled over orb. ...Yea' Kid. I need your help. 'Cause I ain't been scared since 1945, when my daddy went 'n booted me out the house, for dodging the War Effort. Sure as shit though and the humour seems to drain from those transparent features, leaving behind an elderly creature huddled in his safety blankets ...I'm scared now He gulps, despite the ludicrousness of it. I'm bein' hunted

[Boy]

The silk screening he was working on was simple enough. A rectangle of red fabric clamped down in a frame, and on the screen of the frame was mostly painted with a dark chemical, except for the silhouete of an eagle in the center. "Hunted?" Boy sounded honestly concerned. "By...by what?"

[Legendary]

The Fuck should I know? Agitation swarms off of him like a hornets nest disturbed. The old man's flails one arm, spindly and long, before him. The other hand is clutched tight around the crease of those blankets, keeping them knit and tucked tight around his obvious naked shape beneath. ...It ain't just me though. It's the lot of us. A lot of us anyway Still and quiet for a moment, thinking, eyes darting across the ground of the basement. ...I done watched lots of us wandering and moving about, lost in the memories of what they were. Repeat all the time, what they did just before the bit the big one And then the voice gets quiet. The form seems to waver slightly as if the strength had drained right out of him, leaving behind that feeble old creature, staring at a space two feet before him. ...It started coming around. Finding each of us. Saw it take a nice young lady in that place with all the pretty lights. Right down an alley. When I got there, they were gone. Both just poof He mimics the sound with a hand gesture [/i]....Gone[/i]

[Boy]

Boy's eyes narrow as the story is told, and he remembers something. Someone who was there but wasn't there. Someone who was being chased. Someone defenseless. And suddenly...gone. "Poof." He nods once to himself, and once to the old man. "But why? What would it want? And what can I do? I've never been to...to your world. I don't think i even know how to get there."

[Legendary]

Ain't gotta get to my world kid He kicks something around that isn't there, a fidget to fight off the tremors that seem to want to leap through his spindly frame. ...Seeing me here ain't'cha? Well so's it. Got a lot of us wanderin' 'round this here stink pit of a city. Get lucky enough another pause, with a critical eye on the kid or unlucky dependin' on how you wanna look at it, you'll find 'em. Alls I know is yo- He snaps into a half-crouch, comedic if not for the sudden whistle of wind just outside of the windows. the weather has been thick with clouds and rain lately, a little wind nothing out of the ordinary and yet... Shit... He is straining. For something. To hear. Listening ....Shit you hear that?

[Boy]

"Hear what?" He crouches slowly, cocking an ear toward...what the hell was he listening for? "What, the wind?"

[Boy]

Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6) (Perc+Primal Urge)

[Legendary]

The Wind carries around the house, pitching off the lakeside with fervor and force and traversing the constructed tunnels of houses and homes, on it's way toward the city's interior. Boys' ears once again perk to listen, pushing their way into the flesh of the sound and coming away with...something. It is a haunting sort of sound, the sort that stays with you and becomes the identity in future moments. A restless sort of energy ripples up arms and nerves, dancing on the edge of Boys' conscious mind, teetering in the realms of where his beast makes his home: instinct and below thought. Something calls there, in the Rage. It is momentary but the reaction in the old man is frantic: He paces, back and forth, eyes in air, trying to localize something. A hand reaches out to snatch mid-air, or maybe push something away, that transparent form marching through support beams, part of the boiler and even Boy's silk screening table. Shit shit shit... The wind howls again, once more that strange sensation creeping over Boys' instincts.

[Boy]

"Get behind me." Boy barks, even though he himself is aware of the possible futility of it. How could he defend this being? How could he fight something he couldn't even touch or see? Even with so many questions in his mind his form bulks up again, but this time he's in control (sort of), and he hovers over the blanket wrapped phantom, trying hard to to understand what was happening here.

[Boy]

Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 3, 6, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP] [Wits + Enigmas (wp)]

[Legendary]

Boys' senses ripple outward, drifting across the territory he has come to call his own. It is an instinctual thing he touches on, but also a thought provoked one. Something about this entire situation, seems inherently familiar. Vaguely, but still...it nags... ...His massive bulk stands over the slight old man, shivering now in his blankets and his ears reach out for the sound that seems to have eluded him in all but the most primal of ways... ...And just as Boys' senses seem to be reaching for something more distinct, ripple seems to take the lights in the basement, flickering in and out for a few moments before returning to their former brilliance. With them, the Old Man starts, freezes and turns to look up into the young Philodox's face. ...I can't stay here, kid. The old man's shape becomes more transparent, even as he scowls and lifts a finger into the towering Glabro's face Do something about this. I'm dead. I shouldn't have to be afraid anymore

[Boy]

"I...I don't know..." He sets his lips together in a bit of a grimace, and nods. "Go on old man. Run on. Stay safe. I'll find a way. I promise."

[Legendary]

The old Man turns as he vanishes, spindly legs already beginning a quick trot east, leaving Boy alone in the basement once, to his thoughts and the voices he is more used to dealing with.

[Boy]

He was alone again, but still on edge. He was still large and on edge and he still turned about, half expecting something else to jump out after him. "That did just happen, right?" he says to no one that was actually in the room. No one answers. Boy nods. "Thats what I thought."