"This one was a Vladette."
Sep. 15th, 2008 01:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
renferretNick and Mouse talk shop, Mouse and Ed talk shop, and Mouse has to choose between mage and vampire. She chooses mage. It doesn't go well.
From afar, Nicodemus ringy dingies!
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse picks up after a few rings. "Yeah?" From the sounds of her voice, she's in mid-yawn.
Nicodemus pages: A familiar voice responds from the other end. "Mouse. Nick. Wanted to touch base on a couple things, but none are uber-urgent. This a good time or do you want to call me back when it's more convenient?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'Hey." Mouse sounds a little more coherent now. "No, this's an okay time. What's up?"'.
Nicodemus pages: Nick responds, "This and that. I'm on my cell, so watch your language. Never know when those things might go to speakerphone mode." He then gets down to business. "You still looking into those off.... cops.... that popped up at the fire sale? Or is that a moot point nowadays?"
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse grunts. "You've got a number of bad apples on your tree these days, apparently. Yeah, we're still looking into it."
From afar, Nicodemus hesitates a second, then offers, "I can definitely confirm at least two that are under the influence of a guy named Vlad--though I'm pretty sure that's not his real name." The verbal dance weaves deftly around using a "v"-word. "Vlad's been giving them drinks--definitely not cherry kool-ade. I've got names and addresses for the drinkers, but.... home is where the wife and kids are." He lets that sink in, apparently the context is important--to him at least. "I tried talking one of them out of his drinking problem, but... he hung up on me." He doesn't sound thrilled with his failure. "I can't do anything else on that end without tipping my hand. And.... uh... I might have accidentally tipped one of them off in trying to get him to quit. Not a what or a who or a when, but one of them definitely knows that someone else knows what they're doing."
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse is silent as he speaks, and then, "Yeah, we've got wind of that. Vlad's people made a big mess that we ended up having to clean up, and while we were cleaning we found out about the people taking him up on his drink offers. I'm fairly /sure/ we've got names and so on, but I'd need to doublecheck with one of my guys who's heading it up."
Nicodemus pages: There's a muted grunt from the other end. "Okay." Pause. "Listen, do you know what all Vlad is up to other than sharing Kool-Ade and... it looks like he's just trying to protect himself and fit in? Is he actually doing anything.... wrong? Other than manipulating people and... you know if the bl....er.... Kool-Ade is actually doing any damage to people? They seem to want it. Is it addictive?" Lots of questions and no answers.
You paged Nicodemus with 'Really addictive," Mouse responds. "That mess I mentioned, the one we had to clean up? It happened because a few people who liked their Kool-ade lost their distributor and decided to go bugfuck. There's a bit more to it than that, but you get the idea. People like Vlad use it to get their fingers into every little thing. They ask the folks they give it to to do something for them, and gosh suddenly they can't say no."'.
Nicodemus pages: Nick surmises, "So it destroys free will. That is... definitely bad." There's still a momentary hesitation before he continues speaking, resuming with an offer: "I managed to get my hands on a glass of Kool-Ade. Would that be of any use to you in tracking down the source?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'This time it's Mouse who hesitates. "I'm not...sure. Well...well actually, it /might/, now that I think about it. It couldn't hurt, that's for sure."'.
Nicodemus pages: No hesitation now. "Okay. We can meet somewhere later and I'll drop off the vial and give you the names and addresses of the two drinkers I know about. Think I can get the sample back after you're done with it?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'I think that's a fair deal, sure." Pause. "Oh, just so you know, Jack's back in town. He blew in the other day. And you know that P.I. you told me about months ago?"'.
Nicodemus pages: The surprise is obvious in Nick's voice. "Jack's back? Was just thinking about him the other day. Weird coincidence." New topic. "Shit. Did the guy see me earlier outside your place?"
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse says, "Not that I know of. I think we're lucky, he was on break or something. The trouble is, he's /still/ sniffing around. And I don't want to mess with the guy, but we know who's employing him and they're bad news, and I think he's getting close to finding what they have him looking for. I'm worried he's going to find us, but I'm also worried he's going to see something he shouldn't while he does. They're putting a lot of pressure on this area."
Nicodemus pages: The mage offers, "Have you thought about creating a red herring elsewhere? Make it look like folks relocated elsewhere? Or.... hell. Do what I do: pull up stakes and move."
You paged Nicodemus with 'I've thought about it. The trouble is, we don't have any place to move to that won't get friends in trouble, and finding one takes time and loads of money. Plus, it'd be pretty delicate to move without him noticing, given the frequency that he's hanging around lately. If we can't shut his employers down /soon/ though, we're gonna have to. Speaking of...you know I said you've got some bad apples on your tree? Well, I'm hearing rumors those bad apples want the local gangs to move. So they can replace 'em. I'm hearing they want to do some bad things to the local businesses to make things in this area hotter. Unfortunately, I don't know many more details than that."'.
Nicodemus pages: Nick considers, "I guess it does get harder to move the more people that are involved. Are you asking me to see what I might be able to do with your PI problem? As for the bad apples.... Tell you what. You get me some names and I'll see what I can do on that front. The one universal thing that cops are afraid of is Internal Affairs. Talk about your witch hunts."
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse grunts. "I'm not sure what you /can/ do, really. I think mostly I'm saying watch your neck, keep your head down, things might get ugly. As far as the other thing...well, hey, anything to give them a bit of trouble, except one of them at least is a big dog. And by big dog, I mean Sheriff Teagraft."
Nicodemus pages: Nick whistles low. "Yeah, he is a big dog. With big teeth. I hope this is not terribly pervasive, as it could cause some serious problems. Tell you what," he says, proposing a deal. "When I was keeping an eye out around the office, I noticed one cop that.... There's this thing that's bugging him--and he can't reach to scratch this particular itch. You folks can better reach there--and you're good at scratching. You take care of that and I'll give your stalker a bout of unpleasantness when you next spot him and want him to go elsewhere for a while."
You paged Nicodemus with 'I knew there was a reason I liked you," Mouse says, cheerfully. "Just tell me where the itch is, I bet we can take care of it. Idly, his two buddies? Michelson and Clark. From what I gather they're nasty, and like Vlad's sort they like to get their fingers into everything, but I expect most of the people who do their business are just regular joes. Corrupt, possibly, but not the sort that gets our attention, you know? Anyway, I'm not fond of throwing your place into chaos if I can help it. S'why we're taking so long to get to things, we want to do it right and we want to do it precise."'.
Nicodemus pages: "Okay, you already know the two that I know of. The thing is, Clark--I know--isn't nasty. He's slipped up once or twice, but he's normally.... Side effects, right? Dammit." You can almost hear the teeth grit on the other end of the phone. "Do you think taking out the source will end this whole thing? And then the addiction will wear off?"
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse admits, "I don't know, Nick. Now that Jack's back, I might go pick his brain--he's a bit more knowledgeable about this stuff than I am. I can promise you we'll try not to catch anyone who doesn't need to be caught. And I can promise our goal is the big dogs and not the little ones. But..."
Nicodemus pages: Nick interjects, "I don't envy you. Those are hard decisions to make--and ones I don't think I could make." He lets that comment linger before continuing. "Jack have a new number or the same ol same ol? Sounds like I should give him a call so he can fill my empty head. Oh!" Nick says, as if just remembering something else. "I ran into a Vlad the other night. Maybe the same one, maybe not. We get them every now and then but they've been scarce this past year or two." He finishes digressing. "This one was a Vladette. She could change her face but not her voice. She could be anyone. /Anyone/." He reiterates, as if that might be a damn important piece of information for you, with your house full of people.
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse replies, "I think it's the same, but I'm not entirely sure. I--wait. She can change her /face/?" There's a momentary pause. "Now that's...interesting. Because that mess we had to clean up, the guy giving them drinks was really fond of face changing. He changed /theirs/. And it wasn't very pretty."
Nicodemus pages: "That doesn't sound pretty at all. But I've got some good news then," Nick claims. "Vlad has been hanging around at the park at night. Disguised as a really pungent homeless woman who wraps herself up in a billion layers of clothes, sometimes working on a cobbled together laptop. Ought to be fairly easy to find her. Him. It. Whatever."
You paged Nicodemus with 'There is a very significant pause here, and when Mouse next speaks, her voice is rather subdued. "...I...see. How uh...how'd you know she was a Vlad? Was it something she did, or just some Jedi power of yours?"'.
Nicodemus pages: "I recognized her voice, but not the face. That's what tipped me off." He sidesteps elaborating on that any further. "But she was talking to someone else, not me. And she took that guy out for dinner--if you catch my drift."
You paged Nicodemus with 'Christ." Mouse makes a grumpy noise. "You know who this guy was?"'.
From afar, Nicodemus answers negatively. "No, I don't know who he was... is. I'd recognize him if I saw him again though."
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse sighs. "Okay. I think I already know who you're talking about. I need to look into some things. But if you see anything she does that's particularly weird, could you let me know?"
Nicodemus pages: "I have a policy for dealing with things that might try and eat me: stay away. I don't go to the park anymore after dark because I figure she's probably there. That makes it kind of hard to keep an eye on her." He inquiries, "So you think the one in the park is not the same one that's mucking about with the cops?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'Fair enough," Mouse says. To the question, she mutters, "She had /better/ not be. No, I don't think so. I'm fairly sure my guy has a bead on who is. He stumbled over him when we were doing that cleanup."'.
Nicodemus pages: "Huh. Okay. Uhm." Nick collects his thoughts. "Kool-Ade cops info. Vial to you. Vlad and her face. Other cop with the itch that needs to be scratched. Grey.... Er, Jack is back. I'm forgetting something. Ah!" He says as he remembers. "The guy I dropped off earlier. He doing okay? No one is pissed off about that incident, I hope? Do I need to sell my car and get another one?"
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse confirms, "He's alright. I bit his head off over it happening, but things have calmed down and he's fine, and you're in the clear."
Nicodemus pages: "Good. I was worried he might not make it, and something.... /something/ was clearly wrong--or he was /really/ new to things. Glad he was one of yours." He lets it drop unless Mouse perpetuates that topic. "Tell you what. I'll meet you over at the Wendy's a few blocks from your place at, say, 11pm tonight. I'll hand off the vial and the contact information for the guy with the itch. Sound like a plan?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'Sounds like a plan." Pause. "Thanks for that, by the way. Bringing him back here. I owe you again."'.
Nicodemus pages: Nicodemus adds with a bit of dark humor, "I think you'd be singing a different tune if I'd dumped someone who wasn't one of yours off on the doorstep. But in the brief exchange I had with him, he didn't strike me as being an evil person."
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse gives a short laugh. "Yeah, probably. But he was mine, so."
Nicodemus pages: Nick makes an amused noise from the other end. "Good thing. Okay. See you in a few hours. You can owe me a frosty."
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse is practically grinning through the telephone. "I'll make it a large. See you."
==============================================================================
Message: 52/52 in folder main Received: Sat Sep 13 19:13:53 2008
From: Nicodemus
To: Ed, and Mouse
Subject: Bucket of blood!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Actually, just one small vial of vampire blood that was intercepted going to Detective Clark and his partner. That's what Nick has handed over to Mouse for whatever nefarious use it might be put to.
==============================================================================
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East Bridge Street
The power plant to the south, chain-link fence delineating it sharply from the street, takes up two blocks, from Fourth to Second. Across the street, and down along Second and to First, are tenements, small bars, and the occasional slightly-better-maintained building. Teenagers give older, grim-looking men and women nowhere near enough space for respect, jostling them and sometimes knocking them down while brushing arrogantly by. Trash in the gutters and along the sidewalks is a glum reminder, with the filth spewed from the power plant itself and the factories beyond to the south, of the poverty of the area and the lack of care given to this section of the city. The occasional shot rings out, down the street or in the tiny, darkened alleys burrowing between buildings.
Contents:
Ed
Obvious exits:
Graffiti-Covered Tenement McAffee Court Harbor PArk Holland Place Charlie's Tavern Alley Washington Warehouse WHarf East South North West
Ed doesn't drag around her cart as often as she used too, but seems to have developed a fondness for an oversized napsack. With the large empty bag strapped to her back, the heavily bundled woman shuffles down the street and past the tenement.
Mouse is lurking on a street corner about a block down from the Tenement itself, leaning against a lamp post and having what appears to all the world to be just a simple cigarette break. It's cool enough for her to wear her coat, and so she is, which actually makes it somewhat difficult in the poor light to make out whether she's male or female with that short hair of hers.
Ed comes to a slow stop and turns to face the figure having a smoke break. A handful of seconds pass, than she slowly starts to make her way towards Mouse. "Hey, Mouse?" She says, from behind the scarves that cover her face.
"Hey," Mouse greets, without quite looking up--or at--the Gnawer kin. It's only after a few moments that she pulls the cigarette away from her mouth, releasing a sizable plume of smoke into the night air.
Ed takes a look around, then crosses her legs as she sinks in to a sitting position. "Haven't seen you around in a bit. How've you been? Kinda running low on dog food for the pooch, if you have any in the tenement?"
Mouse grunts. "We don't have dogs." As if, somehow, Ed might have forgotten this. "Ed, you gotta be careful. I start hearing things about you doing strange shit--people DO pick up on that."
Ed is silent for a moment. "Oh. You said once you'd keep some around for me, but I guess you've been busy." Another pause. "Umm. What stuff? I've think I've been pretty good - other than the only coming out at night thing. I'm kinda stuck with that these days."
Mouse rubs the bridge of her nose. "Stuff like looking like a completely different person, but having the same voice."
Now, that certainly catches Ed off guard and she actually jumps in place a little. "Oh..."
Mouse raises an eyebrow. She does look at Ed now, scrutinizing her expression.
There really isn't much to see, what with the heavy deadlocked wing and the scarves the cover Ed's face. I do wear different faces... But they don't cross paths."
Mouse squints and shakes her head. "What do you mean, you wear different faces? And obviously they crossed paths a little, 'cause dude, someone recognized your voice. Luckily it was someone who isn't likely going to get you in trouble, but /seriously/."
Ed shrugs, causing her heavily clothed shoulders to rise and fall. "I can change the way I look. Who told you this?"
"Does it matter?" Mouse asks. "Look, I just want you to be careful. I get that mistakes happen, I do. I'm sure it was just bad timing. But it doesn't stop me from worrying."
Ed puts a gloved hand under the scarves that cover her face and scratches at her throat. "Well, it sort of does. I have no idea where I could have screwed up."
Mouse shrugs, and drops her cigarette onto the pavement, where she steps on it and turns her foot before bending down to pick it up again.
Ed watches the cigarette drop and get picked back up again in silence.
"So what're you up to?" Mouse asks.
Ed reaches over and scratches at her leg. "Fussing with my computer'n sitting in the park for the most park. Just keeping an eye on things. You know how it is. Seeded out a few new Trojans. The virus scan software doesn't seem to have caught up with most of'em. Not yet, anyway."
Mouse grunts. She listens, but it's obvious she's not into hacker talk tonight. As Ed speaks, she deposits the dead cigarette into a pocket, and digs out a flattened pack to fish out another.
"Other than that," Ed says, "I haven't been up to much. Q was saying something about you guys having a Haunted House to deal with? I looked in to the history of the place."
Mouse grunts again. "Mmn, two, I think. There's an actual house that Zeke ran into. I heard some noise about wanting Theurges for that, but I haven't heard anything else. And there's some rumors about a haunted apartment building or something floating around."
"Haunted apartment building?" Ed asks, as she shoves her gloved hands in to her pockets. "I'd heard about a house. I looked in to the house... No serious history, other than some recent cop calls for domestic shit."
Mouse nods. "Like I said, rumors, and I haven't heard them for a bit. The /house/ is what Zeke found, yeah."
Ed tilts her head to one side. "Alright. Shame you don't know more about it. Like to keep on top of weird news like that. Q has been doing some good things with the park, getting all the kinfolk together to help with getting permission from the city to do stuff."
Mouse's jaw tenses for a moment. "Yeah, I know."
Ed tilts her head the other way. "You don't like what he is doing?"
"I like what he's doing just fine," Mouse says, before her mouth twists faintly, and she sighs.
Ed scratches at her leg again. "So, what's up with this Kings business? I know you guys are helping them in their turf war with those undercover cops, but I ain't got the damn clue as to why. Also, from what I did see, the Kings don't know why you're helping'em either."
Mouse grunts. "Good, because telling the Kings the real reason why we're helping wouldn't be a smart idea. For one, the cops aren't exactly trying to drive them off for the good of the community. They want them gone so they can put more cooperative people in their place. And those cops are working for some fucking Spiral Dancer kin."
Ed grunts. "Skindiggers," the woman says. "Consider offering them help, without telling them why, or just making up a story?"
Mouse sticks her cigarette in her mouth and clicks the end with her lighter. "That's the plan."
Ed scratches at her chest again, then reaches in to her large jacket and pulls out a large sewer rat, which she rests on her knee. "I just know I saw you helping them awhile back. Ended up being kinda messy."
Mouse visibly twitches at that, though she's back to watching the street and not Ed herself. "Yeah," she repeats flatly. "Kinda messy."
Ed runs a hand over the rat's back and offers the critter a milkbone. "Guns generally don't belong in a turf war, unless you want it turning in to something more then a few broken bones and the odd cracked skull. That one undercover cop you have tabs on... You going to do anything to make him put his neck on the chopping block?"
Mouse's eyebrows draw together, and she abruptly snaps, "Ed, I kind've /know/ how to handle this fucking shit. /They/ brought guns to the party."
Ed sinks back in to her clothes, cringing away from the Walker. "I just saw your side pulling them first," she mumbles, as the sewer rat scrambles back in to her clothes.
Mouse continues to look grumpy and aggravated for a few moments, before her features soften--slightly--and a hint of regret enters her expression. "Sorry," she mumbles. "S'full moon, I'm so sick of this shit, I'm sorry."
Ed stays shrunken in to her clothing, a smelly mess of rags. "Willin' to help you know, if there is anything I can do... Honestly though, you talk about people noticing me doing weird shit, but you're still not telling me much. People don't tend to see through the faces I wear. Mabye I can help more with the guy you guys have tabs on?"
Mouse shakes her head. "We've got folks working on that. It's fine. We're just in the waiting phase, you know? And it makes everyone /antsy/, including me. And people do dumb shit when they're antsy."
Ed sighs and starts to stand. "Alright."
Mouse's eyes flick to Ed as she stands. "Leaving?"
Ed shrugs. "Well, I was hoping for some dog food. Running kinda low. Nothin' to keep me here tonight. Nothin' to help with."
Mouse's lips thin very faintly. "Well, you know, the dog food is real easy. You can go 'dude, um, I don't have any cash to buy food for my pet, could you pick some up again'? That would solve your problem there, I think."
Ed shrugs. "Naw, its okay Mouse. Got a bit of a wallet collecting business going on these days. I can manage my own supplies, really. I'm just being a mooch."
Mouse finally seems to ease just a little bit. "Well I /gathered/ that," she says, with a snort of amusement. "You want something you can help with though? It's boring, but if you can just keep an eye out, you know, when you're wandering around anyway, for anything /supernaturally/ suspicious or regularly suspicious but centered on the Tenement, that'd be a big help. If Teagraft's thugs start raising hell in the community, I want to be right there to stop them. And I'm worried we're going to get jumped in the Tenement."
Ed sticks a gloved hand under her scarves and scratches at her face. "Can you get me Teagraft's address?"
Ed says "Get someone to tail him home one day?"
Mouse shakes her head. "No, we know where he lives, we're just getting all our ducks in a row. I'm just worried about in the meantime, what happens out here."
Ed blinks, clearly in surprise. "Uhh. Can I have his address? I mean, you found out about him 'cause of the bugs in his buddies place, right?"
Mouse squints at Ed. "...Why do you want his address?"
Ed rolls her eyes. "So I can bug his place an' his phone, same as I did with that other guy? People don't see me, unless I want'em too."
"Yeah," Mouse says, "But people can see and find bugs. I've got a way of doing the same thing without having to step foot in his house. The thing is, I really doubt they're going to be talking about sending a pack of Dancers into the Tenement over a phone line. That's what I meant by keeping an eye out here. So we have some small amount of warning if and when they move, see."
Ed just sort of looks at Mouse for a handful of seconds. "How did you find out about Teagraft in the first place?"
"One of my kin did some legwork," Mouse responds, right eyebrow twitching upward. "He told me. And then Q told me the same thing, from you."
Ed nods, as she shoves her hands in to her pockets. "Tapping is useful. I know you guys can do some fancy shit, but does it let you watch him all the time?"
Mouse grunts. "I know tapping is useful. I've tapped people a lot myself. But that wasn't what I was ask--" She straightens. "Nevermind. I'm gonna walk."
"You were asking what?" Ed enquires, as she looks down at the sidewalk. "I wanna help, but... You're real closed mouthed about shit."
Mouse turns back, looking over her should. "Ed, I've /got/ folks working on Teagraft. I was asking you one thing that would really completely help, but all you wanted to talk about was bugging his phone instead. So honestly, I'm twitchy as hell and it's really not a good night for civil conversation, okay?"
Ed sighs heavily. "I sit'n watch Mouse, its pretty much what I do these days. S'what I've always done. I wanna be able to do more than that. I'm not aiming to be a pain in the ass, but I know what I'm good at."
Mouse shakes her head. "/I/ want to be able to do more than that too."
Ed shrugs. "Can you tell me what folks have noticed about me, at least? More than just people with different faces an' the same voice. 'Cause that really doesn't tell me much."
"I told you what was noticed," Mouse says, with a grunt. "They recognized your voice but you looked totally different. And...no, I can't tell you who. I'm sorry."
Ed gives voice to a very soft and displeased hiss, as her eyes narrow in to slits. "I see," she says, tone having gone cold and hard. Turning her back on the Theurge, she starts to walk away.
Mouse goes suddenly rigid, and as Ed turns her back, she spins again to face her. "...The fuck was /that/?" Her temper is gone, but in its place is faint alarm.
Ed flips a bird in Mouse's direction, as she stalks across the street.
That's obviously not a reaction Mouse appreciates, because her lips curl upward, and she stalks right after Ed, tossing her cigarette aside and putting on a pace that she at least hopes will allow her to catch up with the kin. "What the /fuck/, Ed?" she repeats, more angry this time.
Ed really isn't moving all that fast, but she is completely ignoring the Walker as she gains the sidewalk on the other side of the street.
Mouse's eyes narrow sharply, and she takes the remaining distance at a sudden run, moving to plant herself either in front or right beside Ed. "I'm /talking/ to you."
Ed comes to a stop as the Theurge steps in front of her. "Fuck off Mouse. You're not the only one that's twitchy." And with that, she tries to brush past the Walker. She's aiming for a filth strewn alleyway.
Mouse sticks out an arm to stop her. "/You/ fuck off. What's got into you? You think you're the only one with secrets, Ed? The only one I don't tell other people about? Or were you just trying to pump me for information and it didn't go very well?"
"Well, excuse me for having a survival instinct!" Ed blurts out, as her hands clench in to fists. "Excuse me for expecting a Roachfucker to look out for one of Rat's kids."
The look that crosses Mouse's face is one of murderous anger, but the kind of anger that runs cold, not hot. Her voice is suddenly very chilly, and about as sharp as a fresh razor blade. "...Roachfucker, huh? That's cute. That's /cute/, Ed. Why do you think I fucking /told/ you in the fucking first place? I /am/ trying to fucking look out for you. You're not in trouble from that, you're not in danger from /that/, but you're not the only fucking person I look out for. But you know, you can just fuck right off, and go find some other 'roachfucker' to pretend to be friendly with." She jerks away, as if Ed were actually touching her, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.
Ed's anger is far from cold, it boils and froths like a turbulent sea. Hands clenched in to tight fists, as a shudder passes though the heavily clothed kinswoman's form. An angry hiss makes its way out of her mouth, as she squeezes her eyes shut. Finally, she seems to regain some measure of control. "Family," she says, mostly under her breath, as she stalks away from the Walker, down the alley and to the end of the darkened passageway. Out of sight, but not out of earshot, there is the sound of metal scraping across cement, then a clank. Sounds like a manhole cover dropping back in to place.
From afar, Nicodemus ringy dingies!
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse picks up after a few rings. "Yeah?" From the sounds of her voice, she's in mid-yawn.
Nicodemus pages: A familiar voice responds from the other end. "Mouse. Nick. Wanted to touch base on a couple things, but none are uber-urgent. This a good time or do you want to call me back when it's more convenient?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'Hey." Mouse sounds a little more coherent now. "No, this's an okay time. What's up?"'.
Nicodemus pages: Nick responds, "This and that. I'm on my cell, so watch your language. Never know when those things might go to speakerphone mode." He then gets down to business. "You still looking into those off.... cops.... that popped up at the fire sale? Or is that a moot point nowadays?"
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse grunts. "You've got a number of bad apples on your tree these days, apparently. Yeah, we're still looking into it."
From afar, Nicodemus hesitates a second, then offers, "I can definitely confirm at least two that are under the influence of a guy named Vlad--though I'm pretty sure that's not his real name." The verbal dance weaves deftly around using a "v"-word. "Vlad's been giving them drinks--definitely not cherry kool-ade. I've got names and addresses for the drinkers, but.... home is where the wife and kids are." He lets that sink in, apparently the context is important--to him at least. "I tried talking one of them out of his drinking problem, but... he hung up on me." He doesn't sound thrilled with his failure. "I can't do anything else on that end without tipping my hand. And.... uh... I might have accidentally tipped one of them off in trying to get him to quit. Not a what or a who or a when, but one of them definitely knows that someone else knows what they're doing."
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse is silent as he speaks, and then, "Yeah, we've got wind of that. Vlad's people made a big mess that we ended up having to clean up, and while we were cleaning we found out about the people taking him up on his drink offers. I'm fairly /sure/ we've got names and so on, but I'd need to doublecheck with one of my guys who's heading it up."
Nicodemus pages: There's a muted grunt from the other end. "Okay." Pause. "Listen, do you know what all Vlad is up to other than sharing Kool-Ade and... it looks like he's just trying to protect himself and fit in? Is he actually doing anything.... wrong? Other than manipulating people and... you know if the bl....er.... Kool-Ade is actually doing any damage to people? They seem to want it. Is it addictive?" Lots of questions and no answers.
You paged Nicodemus with 'Really addictive," Mouse responds. "That mess I mentioned, the one we had to clean up? It happened because a few people who liked their Kool-ade lost their distributor and decided to go bugfuck. There's a bit more to it than that, but you get the idea. People like Vlad use it to get their fingers into every little thing. They ask the folks they give it to to do something for them, and gosh suddenly they can't say no."'.
Nicodemus pages: Nick surmises, "So it destroys free will. That is... definitely bad." There's still a momentary hesitation before he continues speaking, resuming with an offer: "I managed to get my hands on a glass of Kool-Ade. Would that be of any use to you in tracking down the source?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'This time it's Mouse who hesitates. "I'm not...sure. Well...well actually, it /might/, now that I think about it. It couldn't hurt, that's for sure."'.
Nicodemus pages: No hesitation now. "Okay. We can meet somewhere later and I'll drop off the vial and give you the names and addresses of the two drinkers I know about. Think I can get the sample back after you're done with it?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'I think that's a fair deal, sure." Pause. "Oh, just so you know, Jack's back in town. He blew in the other day. And you know that P.I. you told me about months ago?"'.
Nicodemus pages: The surprise is obvious in Nick's voice. "Jack's back? Was just thinking about him the other day. Weird coincidence." New topic. "Shit. Did the guy see me earlier outside your place?"
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse says, "Not that I know of. I think we're lucky, he was on break or something. The trouble is, he's /still/ sniffing around. And I don't want to mess with the guy, but we know who's employing him and they're bad news, and I think he's getting close to finding what they have him looking for. I'm worried he's going to find us, but I'm also worried he's going to see something he shouldn't while he does. They're putting a lot of pressure on this area."
Nicodemus pages: The mage offers, "Have you thought about creating a red herring elsewhere? Make it look like folks relocated elsewhere? Or.... hell. Do what I do: pull up stakes and move."
You paged Nicodemus with 'I've thought about it. The trouble is, we don't have any place to move to that won't get friends in trouble, and finding one takes time and loads of money. Plus, it'd be pretty delicate to move without him noticing, given the frequency that he's hanging around lately. If we can't shut his employers down /soon/ though, we're gonna have to. Speaking of...you know I said you've got some bad apples on your tree? Well, I'm hearing rumors those bad apples want the local gangs to move. So they can replace 'em. I'm hearing they want to do some bad things to the local businesses to make things in this area hotter. Unfortunately, I don't know many more details than that."'.
Nicodemus pages: Nick considers, "I guess it does get harder to move the more people that are involved. Are you asking me to see what I might be able to do with your PI problem? As for the bad apples.... Tell you what. You get me some names and I'll see what I can do on that front. The one universal thing that cops are afraid of is Internal Affairs. Talk about your witch hunts."
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse grunts. "I'm not sure what you /can/ do, really. I think mostly I'm saying watch your neck, keep your head down, things might get ugly. As far as the other thing...well, hey, anything to give them a bit of trouble, except one of them at least is a big dog. And by big dog, I mean Sheriff Teagraft."
Nicodemus pages: Nick whistles low. "Yeah, he is a big dog. With big teeth. I hope this is not terribly pervasive, as it could cause some serious problems. Tell you what," he says, proposing a deal. "When I was keeping an eye out around the office, I noticed one cop that.... There's this thing that's bugging him--and he can't reach to scratch this particular itch. You folks can better reach there--and you're good at scratching. You take care of that and I'll give your stalker a bout of unpleasantness when you next spot him and want him to go elsewhere for a while."
You paged Nicodemus with 'I knew there was a reason I liked you," Mouse says, cheerfully. "Just tell me where the itch is, I bet we can take care of it. Idly, his two buddies? Michelson and Clark. From what I gather they're nasty, and like Vlad's sort they like to get their fingers into everything, but I expect most of the people who do their business are just regular joes. Corrupt, possibly, but not the sort that gets our attention, you know? Anyway, I'm not fond of throwing your place into chaos if I can help it. S'why we're taking so long to get to things, we want to do it right and we want to do it precise."'.
Nicodemus pages: "Okay, you already know the two that I know of. The thing is, Clark--I know--isn't nasty. He's slipped up once or twice, but he's normally.... Side effects, right? Dammit." You can almost hear the teeth grit on the other end of the phone. "Do you think taking out the source will end this whole thing? And then the addiction will wear off?"
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse admits, "I don't know, Nick. Now that Jack's back, I might go pick his brain--he's a bit more knowledgeable about this stuff than I am. I can promise you we'll try not to catch anyone who doesn't need to be caught. And I can promise our goal is the big dogs and not the little ones. But..."
Nicodemus pages: Nick interjects, "I don't envy you. Those are hard decisions to make--and ones I don't think I could make." He lets that comment linger before continuing. "Jack have a new number or the same ol same ol? Sounds like I should give him a call so he can fill my empty head. Oh!" Nick says, as if just remembering something else. "I ran into a Vlad the other night. Maybe the same one, maybe not. We get them every now and then but they've been scarce this past year or two." He finishes digressing. "This one was a Vladette. She could change her face but not her voice. She could be anyone. /Anyone/." He reiterates, as if that might be a damn important piece of information for you, with your house full of people.
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse replies, "I think it's the same, but I'm not entirely sure. I--wait. She can change her /face/?" There's a momentary pause. "Now that's...interesting. Because that mess we had to clean up, the guy giving them drinks was really fond of face changing. He changed /theirs/. And it wasn't very pretty."
Nicodemus pages: "That doesn't sound pretty at all. But I've got some good news then," Nick claims. "Vlad has been hanging around at the park at night. Disguised as a really pungent homeless woman who wraps herself up in a billion layers of clothes, sometimes working on a cobbled together laptop. Ought to be fairly easy to find her. Him. It. Whatever."
You paged Nicodemus with 'There is a very significant pause here, and when Mouse next speaks, her voice is rather subdued. "...I...see. How uh...how'd you know she was a Vlad? Was it something she did, or just some Jedi power of yours?"'.
Nicodemus pages: "I recognized her voice, but not the face. That's what tipped me off." He sidesteps elaborating on that any further. "But she was talking to someone else, not me. And she took that guy out for dinner--if you catch my drift."
You paged Nicodemus with 'Christ." Mouse makes a grumpy noise. "You know who this guy was?"'.
From afar, Nicodemus answers negatively. "No, I don't know who he was... is. I'd recognize him if I saw him again though."
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse sighs. "Okay. I think I already know who you're talking about. I need to look into some things. But if you see anything she does that's particularly weird, could you let me know?"
Nicodemus pages: "I have a policy for dealing with things that might try and eat me: stay away. I don't go to the park anymore after dark because I figure she's probably there. That makes it kind of hard to keep an eye on her." He inquiries, "So you think the one in the park is not the same one that's mucking about with the cops?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'Fair enough," Mouse says. To the question, she mutters, "She had /better/ not be. No, I don't think so. I'm fairly sure my guy has a bead on who is. He stumbled over him when we were doing that cleanup."'.
Nicodemus pages: "Huh. Okay. Uhm." Nick collects his thoughts. "Kool-Ade cops info. Vial to you. Vlad and her face. Other cop with the itch that needs to be scratched. Grey.... Er, Jack is back. I'm forgetting something. Ah!" He says as he remembers. "The guy I dropped off earlier. He doing okay? No one is pissed off about that incident, I hope? Do I need to sell my car and get another one?"
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse confirms, "He's alright. I bit his head off over it happening, but things have calmed down and he's fine, and you're in the clear."
Nicodemus pages: "Good. I was worried he might not make it, and something.... /something/ was clearly wrong--or he was /really/ new to things. Glad he was one of yours." He lets it drop unless Mouse perpetuates that topic. "Tell you what. I'll meet you over at the Wendy's a few blocks from your place at, say, 11pm tonight. I'll hand off the vial and the contact information for the guy with the itch. Sound like a plan?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'Sounds like a plan." Pause. "Thanks for that, by the way. Bringing him back here. I owe you again."'.
Nicodemus pages: Nicodemus adds with a bit of dark humor, "I think you'd be singing a different tune if I'd dumped someone who wasn't one of yours off on the doorstep. But in the brief exchange I had with him, he didn't strike me as being an evil person."
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse gives a short laugh. "Yeah, probably. But he was mine, so."
Nicodemus pages: Nick makes an amused noise from the other end. "Good thing. Okay. See you in a few hours. You can owe me a frosty."
Long distance to Nicodemus: Mouse is practically grinning through the telephone. "I'll make it a large. See you."
==============================================================================
Message: 52/52 in folder main Received: Sat Sep 13 19:13:53 2008
From: Nicodemus
To: Ed, and Mouse
Subject: Bucket of blood!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Actually, just one small vial of vampire blood that was intercepted going to Detective Clark and his partner. That's what Nick has handed over to Mouse for whatever nefarious use it might be put to.
==============================================================================
-----
East Bridge Street
The power plant to the south, chain-link fence delineating it sharply from the street, takes up two blocks, from Fourth to Second. Across the street, and down along Second and to First, are tenements, small bars, and the occasional slightly-better-maintained building. Teenagers give older, grim-looking men and women nowhere near enough space for respect, jostling them and sometimes knocking them down while brushing arrogantly by. Trash in the gutters and along the sidewalks is a glum reminder, with the filth spewed from the power plant itself and the factories beyond to the south, of the poverty of the area and the lack of care given to this section of the city. The occasional shot rings out, down the street or in the tiny, darkened alleys burrowing between buildings.
Contents:
Ed
Obvious exits:
Graffiti-Covered Tenement McAffee Court Harbor PArk Holland Place Charlie's Tavern Alley Washington Warehouse WHarf East South North West
Ed doesn't drag around her cart as often as she used too, but seems to have developed a fondness for an oversized napsack. With the large empty bag strapped to her back, the heavily bundled woman shuffles down the street and past the tenement.
Mouse is lurking on a street corner about a block down from the Tenement itself, leaning against a lamp post and having what appears to all the world to be just a simple cigarette break. It's cool enough for her to wear her coat, and so she is, which actually makes it somewhat difficult in the poor light to make out whether she's male or female with that short hair of hers.
Ed comes to a slow stop and turns to face the figure having a smoke break. A handful of seconds pass, than she slowly starts to make her way towards Mouse. "Hey, Mouse?" She says, from behind the scarves that cover her face.
"Hey," Mouse greets, without quite looking up--or at--the Gnawer kin. It's only after a few moments that she pulls the cigarette away from her mouth, releasing a sizable plume of smoke into the night air.
Ed takes a look around, then crosses her legs as she sinks in to a sitting position. "Haven't seen you around in a bit. How've you been? Kinda running low on dog food for the pooch, if you have any in the tenement?"
Mouse grunts. "We don't have dogs." As if, somehow, Ed might have forgotten this. "Ed, you gotta be careful. I start hearing things about you doing strange shit--people DO pick up on that."
Ed is silent for a moment. "Oh. You said once you'd keep some around for me, but I guess you've been busy." Another pause. "Umm. What stuff? I've think I've been pretty good - other than the only coming out at night thing. I'm kinda stuck with that these days."
Mouse rubs the bridge of her nose. "Stuff like looking like a completely different person, but having the same voice."
Now, that certainly catches Ed off guard and she actually jumps in place a little. "Oh..."
Mouse raises an eyebrow. She does look at Ed now, scrutinizing her expression.
There really isn't much to see, what with the heavy deadlocked wing and the scarves the cover Ed's face. I do wear different faces... But they don't cross paths."
Mouse squints and shakes her head. "What do you mean, you wear different faces? And obviously they crossed paths a little, 'cause dude, someone recognized your voice. Luckily it was someone who isn't likely going to get you in trouble, but /seriously/."
Ed shrugs, causing her heavily clothed shoulders to rise and fall. "I can change the way I look. Who told you this?"
"Does it matter?" Mouse asks. "Look, I just want you to be careful. I get that mistakes happen, I do. I'm sure it was just bad timing. But it doesn't stop me from worrying."
Ed puts a gloved hand under the scarves that cover her face and scratches at her throat. "Well, it sort of does. I have no idea where I could have screwed up."
Mouse shrugs, and drops her cigarette onto the pavement, where she steps on it and turns her foot before bending down to pick it up again.
Ed watches the cigarette drop and get picked back up again in silence.
"So what're you up to?" Mouse asks.
Ed reaches over and scratches at her leg. "Fussing with my computer'n sitting in the park for the most park. Just keeping an eye on things. You know how it is. Seeded out a few new Trojans. The virus scan software doesn't seem to have caught up with most of'em. Not yet, anyway."
Mouse grunts. She listens, but it's obvious she's not into hacker talk tonight. As Ed speaks, she deposits the dead cigarette into a pocket, and digs out a flattened pack to fish out another.
"Other than that," Ed says, "I haven't been up to much. Q was saying something about you guys having a Haunted House to deal with? I looked in to the history of the place."
Mouse grunts again. "Mmn, two, I think. There's an actual house that Zeke ran into. I heard some noise about wanting Theurges for that, but I haven't heard anything else. And there's some rumors about a haunted apartment building or something floating around."
"Haunted apartment building?" Ed asks, as she shoves her gloved hands in to her pockets. "I'd heard about a house. I looked in to the house... No serious history, other than some recent cop calls for domestic shit."
Mouse nods. "Like I said, rumors, and I haven't heard them for a bit. The /house/ is what Zeke found, yeah."
Ed tilts her head to one side. "Alright. Shame you don't know more about it. Like to keep on top of weird news like that. Q has been doing some good things with the park, getting all the kinfolk together to help with getting permission from the city to do stuff."
Mouse's jaw tenses for a moment. "Yeah, I know."
Ed tilts her head the other way. "You don't like what he is doing?"
"I like what he's doing just fine," Mouse says, before her mouth twists faintly, and she sighs.
Ed scratches at her leg again. "So, what's up with this Kings business? I know you guys are helping them in their turf war with those undercover cops, but I ain't got the damn clue as to why. Also, from what I did see, the Kings don't know why you're helping'em either."
Mouse grunts. "Good, because telling the Kings the real reason why we're helping wouldn't be a smart idea. For one, the cops aren't exactly trying to drive them off for the good of the community. They want them gone so they can put more cooperative people in their place. And those cops are working for some fucking Spiral Dancer kin."
Ed grunts. "Skindiggers," the woman says. "Consider offering them help, without telling them why, or just making up a story?"
Mouse sticks her cigarette in her mouth and clicks the end with her lighter. "That's the plan."
Ed scratches at her chest again, then reaches in to her large jacket and pulls out a large sewer rat, which she rests on her knee. "I just know I saw you helping them awhile back. Ended up being kinda messy."
Mouse visibly twitches at that, though she's back to watching the street and not Ed herself. "Yeah," she repeats flatly. "Kinda messy."
Ed runs a hand over the rat's back and offers the critter a milkbone. "Guns generally don't belong in a turf war, unless you want it turning in to something more then a few broken bones and the odd cracked skull. That one undercover cop you have tabs on... You going to do anything to make him put his neck on the chopping block?"
Mouse's eyebrows draw together, and she abruptly snaps, "Ed, I kind've /know/ how to handle this fucking shit. /They/ brought guns to the party."
Ed sinks back in to her clothes, cringing away from the Walker. "I just saw your side pulling them first," she mumbles, as the sewer rat scrambles back in to her clothes.
Mouse continues to look grumpy and aggravated for a few moments, before her features soften--slightly--and a hint of regret enters her expression. "Sorry," she mumbles. "S'full moon, I'm so sick of this shit, I'm sorry."
Ed stays shrunken in to her clothing, a smelly mess of rags. "Willin' to help you know, if there is anything I can do... Honestly though, you talk about people noticing me doing weird shit, but you're still not telling me much. People don't tend to see through the faces I wear. Mabye I can help more with the guy you guys have tabs on?"
Mouse shakes her head. "We've got folks working on that. It's fine. We're just in the waiting phase, you know? And it makes everyone /antsy/, including me. And people do dumb shit when they're antsy."
Ed sighs and starts to stand. "Alright."
Mouse's eyes flick to Ed as she stands. "Leaving?"
Ed shrugs. "Well, I was hoping for some dog food. Running kinda low. Nothin' to keep me here tonight. Nothin' to help with."
Mouse's lips thin very faintly. "Well, you know, the dog food is real easy. You can go 'dude, um, I don't have any cash to buy food for my pet, could you pick some up again'? That would solve your problem there, I think."
Ed shrugs. "Naw, its okay Mouse. Got a bit of a wallet collecting business going on these days. I can manage my own supplies, really. I'm just being a mooch."
Mouse finally seems to ease just a little bit. "Well I /gathered/ that," she says, with a snort of amusement. "You want something you can help with though? It's boring, but if you can just keep an eye out, you know, when you're wandering around anyway, for anything /supernaturally/ suspicious or regularly suspicious but centered on the Tenement, that'd be a big help. If Teagraft's thugs start raising hell in the community, I want to be right there to stop them. And I'm worried we're going to get jumped in the Tenement."
Ed sticks a gloved hand under her scarves and scratches at her face. "Can you get me Teagraft's address?"
Ed says "Get someone to tail him home one day?"
Mouse shakes her head. "No, we know where he lives, we're just getting all our ducks in a row. I'm just worried about in the meantime, what happens out here."
Ed blinks, clearly in surprise. "Uhh. Can I have his address? I mean, you found out about him 'cause of the bugs in his buddies place, right?"
Mouse squints at Ed. "...Why do you want his address?"
Ed rolls her eyes. "So I can bug his place an' his phone, same as I did with that other guy? People don't see me, unless I want'em too."
"Yeah," Mouse says, "But people can see and find bugs. I've got a way of doing the same thing without having to step foot in his house. The thing is, I really doubt they're going to be talking about sending a pack of Dancers into the Tenement over a phone line. That's what I meant by keeping an eye out here. So we have some small amount of warning if and when they move, see."
Ed just sort of looks at Mouse for a handful of seconds. "How did you find out about Teagraft in the first place?"
"One of my kin did some legwork," Mouse responds, right eyebrow twitching upward. "He told me. And then Q told me the same thing, from you."
Ed nods, as she shoves her hands in to her pockets. "Tapping is useful. I know you guys can do some fancy shit, but does it let you watch him all the time?"
Mouse grunts. "I know tapping is useful. I've tapped people a lot myself. But that wasn't what I was ask--" She straightens. "Nevermind. I'm gonna walk."
"You were asking what?" Ed enquires, as she looks down at the sidewalk. "I wanna help, but... You're real closed mouthed about shit."
Mouse turns back, looking over her should. "Ed, I've /got/ folks working on Teagraft. I was asking you one thing that would really completely help, but all you wanted to talk about was bugging his phone instead. So honestly, I'm twitchy as hell and it's really not a good night for civil conversation, okay?"
Ed sighs heavily. "I sit'n watch Mouse, its pretty much what I do these days. S'what I've always done. I wanna be able to do more than that. I'm not aiming to be a pain in the ass, but I know what I'm good at."
Mouse shakes her head. "/I/ want to be able to do more than that too."
Ed shrugs. "Can you tell me what folks have noticed about me, at least? More than just people with different faces an' the same voice. 'Cause that really doesn't tell me much."
"I told you what was noticed," Mouse says, with a grunt. "They recognized your voice but you looked totally different. And...no, I can't tell you who. I'm sorry."
Ed gives voice to a very soft and displeased hiss, as her eyes narrow in to slits. "I see," she says, tone having gone cold and hard. Turning her back on the Theurge, she starts to walk away.
Mouse goes suddenly rigid, and as Ed turns her back, she spins again to face her. "...The fuck was /that/?" Her temper is gone, but in its place is faint alarm.
Ed flips a bird in Mouse's direction, as she stalks across the street.
That's obviously not a reaction Mouse appreciates, because her lips curl upward, and she stalks right after Ed, tossing her cigarette aside and putting on a pace that she at least hopes will allow her to catch up with the kin. "What the /fuck/, Ed?" she repeats, more angry this time.
Ed really isn't moving all that fast, but she is completely ignoring the Walker as she gains the sidewalk on the other side of the street.
Mouse's eyes narrow sharply, and she takes the remaining distance at a sudden run, moving to plant herself either in front or right beside Ed. "I'm /talking/ to you."
Ed comes to a stop as the Theurge steps in front of her. "Fuck off Mouse. You're not the only one that's twitchy." And with that, she tries to brush past the Walker. She's aiming for a filth strewn alleyway.
Mouse sticks out an arm to stop her. "/You/ fuck off. What's got into you? You think you're the only one with secrets, Ed? The only one I don't tell other people about? Or were you just trying to pump me for information and it didn't go very well?"
"Well, excuse me for having a survival instinct!" Ed blurts out, as her hands clench in to fists. "Excuse me for expecting a Roachfucker to look out for one of Rat's kids."
The look that crosses Mouse's face is one of murderous anger, but the kind of anger that runs cold, not hot. Her voice is suddenly very chilly, and about as sharp as a fresh razor blade. "...Roachfucker, huh? That's cute. That's /cute/, Ed. Why do you think I fucking /told/ you in the fucking first place? I /am/ trying to fucking look out for you. You're not in trouble from that, you're not in danger from /that/, but you're not the only fucking person I look out for. But you know, you can just fuck right off, and go find some other 'roachfucker' to pretend to be friendly with." She jerks away, as if Ed were actually touching her, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.
Ed's anger is far from cold, it boils and froths like a turbulent sea. Hands clenched in to tight fists, as a shudder passes though the heavily clothed kinswoman's form. An angry hiss makes its way out of her mouth, as she squeezes her eyes shut. Finally, she seems to regain some measure of control. "Family," she says, mostly under her breath, as she stalks away from the Walker, down the alley and to the end of the darkened passageway. Out of sight, but not out of earshot, there is the sound of metal scraping across cement, then a clank. Sounds like a manhole cover dropping back in to place.
