The Soot Bandit
| The Soot Bandit | |
|---|---|
"I don't know much of anything about anything, but that the coin will keep me safe, and the symbol needs to be made where the fire has stepped." | |
| Players |
Sol and Elias attempt to track down the source of mysterious marks appearing at the sites of the fires through the city. |
One of the more recent and intriguing fires to happen has been just south of the Chicago river, at the City of Chicago Central Auto Pound. A fire took hold in some of the impounded vehicles and very quickly became a raging blaze that took out a quarter of them cars, trucks, SUVs, etc. Elias' map as right by one of the bridging points that the fire crossed the river at, back in the day. It took some time for the firefighters to kill all the hotspots with a few flare ups, but some careful eyes and some patience and frequent checks see the pair on-site. The fence has been melted and ruined in several places due to the intensity of the fires, and getting in is as easy as ducking some police tape, really. Solomon likes when it's easy to get into places, because as we already know, he doesn't know how to pick locks. He's dressed for urban exploration, which mainly means jeans and a t-shirt, but also a scuffed leather jacket that it's really too hot to wear normally, but that makes a nice shield for his arms from rusty nails or broken glass and the like. "You ever wonder," he's muttering to Elias, "if we should put 'murdered by an urban legend' on our tombstones if we get stomped by a giant, flaming cow? It could be an intriguing mystery for generations to come." "Melted, must have been burning hot." Elias mutters as he crouches by the burned out fence, prodding some of the melted chainlink with an outstretched talon. He's a little more appropriately dressed for sneaking around in a pair of dark blue jeans and a dark grey henley, probably not the most comfortable even in the evening warmth, but good for blending in. Of course his feathers stand out like a glowing beacon of white, but that's only for the eyes of a few. He ducks through the fence, under the police tape, careful not to rip it, and then pauses to take stock of the impound lot, eyes scanning the burned out wreckage. "If I were a soot sketcher where would I be putting the mark?" He says under his breath. "I think 'stomped on by flaming cow' is more accurate and something I'd want on my tombstone if true. I've eaten enough burgers, it's be poetic justice." Solomon sniffs the air, unconsciously. "Perhaps at the core of the fire?" he suggests. "There's either a psychological or a ritual purpose to marking your burns, typically. The fire's starting point would make a good marker for either of those, and we could work outwards from there as needed?" He keeps his voice low and scans the impound lot, head swinging back and forth. There's a snort of amusement at the last. The swept from the east towards the western edge of the impound. The plastic parts of the cars are burned up puddles, leaving grotesque, heat twisted frames and engines exposed. There's still the lingering stink of melted rubbed and electronics - no doubt a scent that'll stay in the the lot until they get it all cleaned up. Elias crinkles his nose against the stench of the burned plastics and electronics, but keeps his eyes peeled as he looks around. "But the marks look like they've been drawn with a cloth or sleeve, would spirits even do that? Just seems, I dunno, weird. But the start of the blaze is as good a place as any. Maybe they marked it while investigating." He offers, no doubt refering to the cops. Solomon reaches out to touch one of the twisted frames as they pass. "Perhaps someone summoning or controlling a spirit? You can use banes and bans to manipulate such entities, I believe. Or it could simply have a fan." His voice is dry. As they slip through the opening he pauses to hum a brief little melody to himself, and to Lost eyes, his eyes and ears changes subtly, growing larger and -presumably - keener. "Banes and bans. Something else uncomfortably familiar there." Elias says, noting on a previous topic they discussed. In the dark his eyes are even more owl-like than usual, almost like he's scanning for a rodent to pounce on for dinner as he looks around and between the twisted, burned-out hunks of cars. "I'm glad this place was probably mostly deserted. The only time I encountered this as it was starting was the pier, and that would have been a mess. Find anything, yet, Doc?" The vehicle that seems the most badly burnt is a big, old steel framed 'pedo van' type of rig. The work van vs the mini-van. No windows. Most of the vehicle seems reasonably intact, owing the age and the heavy duty frame and metal of the body panels. There's no scuffed brand to be seen. "Not yet," Solomon mutters. He peers into shadows and around corners, nose wrinkling at the lingering smell of burning. "Why bother burning an impound lot? The pier I can easily understand; there's fear, pain, terror. A lot of emotional energy to feed off of. But an impound lot? You can only really hope that it spreads, and the most likely outcome is that it gets put out. Is this just aping the past?" He shakes his head as they find the van but no scuff marks. "Well...either we're in time to watch, or we've got the wrong end of the stick." "It's following the places that were burned in 1871, I don't think it cares what's there now." Elias says, still keeping his voice low. "I'll send you the maps I made." He stops to look at the van, then around them. "Stakeout time?" He looks up at the ceiling. "Doesn't look like any good perches up there, I'll find a nice shadowy spot with a good view." "Excellent. That would be most interesting. Thank you," Solomon says, staring at one of the melted cameras. He nods to the suggestion of a stakeout. "I think I can find a place to squeeze in up there; I'll go high and you go low? Should be able to catch it coming or going, that way. And maybe work an ambush, besides." He grins, and hums something to himself - it's 'Itsy Bitsy Spider', if Elias is paying close enough attention to identify it. Then he's swarming up one of the I-beams to find a place. "Sounds like a plan to me." Elias slips that scrap of white cloth he keeps in his pocket out, tying it around his wrist as he finds a shadowy area behind a burnt out Honda. His form seems to melt into the shadows around him as he pulls the cloth tight. He crouches and waits, even those eyes of his barely noticeable in the shadowed gloom. It's a bit of waiting. Long enough to become deeply bored and risk attention wandering. Which may be why Elias almost misses the small figure, while Solomon's bird's eye view and multifaceted eyes catch the movement long before the darkly dressed figure gets close. Loose fitting sweat pants, dark sneakers, and a baggy hoody. Terribly fucking -hot-, given that it barely gets under 80 even with the sun down. Shadows hide their face, and they look around, often, as they circle through the cars, winding their way towards the van the pair have figured was at the epicenter of the fire. There's a faint, soft soulful humming that pegs the figure as female. tugging a soot stained yellow bandana from a pocket, she slinks to the van and, whisper-humming a few lines, "Hit the road, Jack, and dontchoo come back no more, no more, no more..." Putting the cloth the ruin, and starting to try and scrub a clean spot in the shape of an O. Solomon isn't really a patient predator. He's more the pounce and chase sort. So he's soon fidgeting and peering at all sorts of things just to have something to _do_. He might be playing 'I Spy' with himself. But when he catches movement, he goes utterly still. His eyes flick towards where Elias is hidden, but he waits until the figure has reached the van. Then, quietly, he starts to tense, trying to catch Elias' eyes so that they can move at the same time and take full advantage of surprise. The bird part of Elias must really be owl, the way he's content to sit and watch until his prey moves into range. Yellow eyes flick up toward Solomon once the small figure appears, a slight shifting in the shadows that is probably a nod. They've already cornered one person together, this is starting to become a habit. He slinks from his shadow, his form still seeming to bleed into the world around him as he starts his move to flank the artist between the professor and himself. The wreck doesn't yield the soot easily. After a bit of rubbing, there's a sigh from the darkly dressed woman. trading the bandana for one of those really good green kitchen scrubbies. "... this is bullshit." she grumbles, leaning harder into the task, forehead against the side of the van, scrubbing the hell out of the thing - unaware she's being stalked. As Elias slinks closer, so does Solomon, but just above the ground, scuttling carefully over the ceiling until he's in pouncing range. His eyes flick again to Elias. And, when they're both ready, he drops from the ceiling, trying to grab the woman and put her in a hold before she can fight back. As Solomon comes in high, Elias goes low. He slinks closer, then pounces once the Doc drops from the ceiling. At the very least trying to get his hands on an arm or leg to hold the small figure still and hopefull keep her from bolting. "Don't fight, we just want some answers." Solomon outweighs the smaller woman, hitting her like a ton of bricks. The green scrubby is dropped and before she can start to fight back, Elias comes in and helps finish securing their grip. No scream, just a startled yelpy-grunt with the initial impact. And some bitten back, throatier noises as she struggles. Like she knows screaming is just going to bring attention and she doesn't want the guards to be drawn this direction. "I have to finish. I'm not hurting anything." Solomon isn't trying to hurt her as long as she doesn't try and break away; he takes one arm so Elias can have the other. "What are you trying to finish?" he asks, his voice low and controlled. There's a snort at the idea she's not hurting anyone, but he doesn't challenge that, just looks to Elias with a cynical sort of smile. Elias shrugs at Solomon's look but keep his own grip on her arm firm. And while she can't see them, his talons are positioned to dig in should she turn more violent than she is being now. "What do you know about the fires?" He adds to Solomon's query, his voice as stern as he can make it. There's a bit of straining, as if to see how tight their grip is before the chick relaxes - as relaxed as one CAN be in such a mess, anyway. "Oh no, no, it doesn't work that way. What do YOU know about the fires?" "I think you'll find that the person who is captured is the one who //answers// the questions, not //asks// them," Solomon snaps. Which is probably why he shouldn't be the talky one, really. "Start talking." "Don't fight. Really, I hate making people do things it's better if you just answer his questions." Ah, good cop, bad cop, it's an oldie but it generally works. Probably would work better if Elias wasn't latched on to her arm, but them's the breaks. "Why are you drawing this mark in all the fires, and how do you know which ones are the right ones?" Grumpy and Grumpy Jr. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Unless.. maybe..." "If you can tell me what my pendant is, I can tell you." Trying to find an easy path. And if either look, there is, indeed, a ball style chain around her neck. Solomon rolls his eyes. "And there are more things under Heaven and Earth than dreamt of in our philosophies, as well, no doubt. Let us decide what we //will/ or //will not// believe." Still, he does look when she directs them to her pendant. And because he's a creepy Autumn, he also reaches out to snag the chain with one finger tip and lift it enough that they can both get a good look to try and identify it. The pendant proves to be a piece of the hidden currency, a coin of the city's supernatural, carefully wrapped and bound with wire into a beautiful piece. "An accord coin." Elias mutters flatly. He's got at least one jingling around in his own pocket at the moment. At least identifying it only says he's in the know and not how he's in the know. He doesn't loosen his grip, but his eyes go to the woman with a slight frown. "Well? What's the answers then?" "Then we're one the same side." If they know it, they're bound by it. In theory, anyway. "I saw it in a dream. A huge shape in smoke. Hoof marks on the ground. And where it stepped, fire appeared. And when the fire died down, a mark was in the ashes. I was shown the way. But I don't know what it does, if it does anything. Just... that... it needs to be done?" Solomon makes another of those grumpy, skeptical noises at being on the same side, but there is a certain tension that relaxes in him at seeing the Accord coin. It doesn't stop him from saying, voice flat, "So you're going around adding potentially occult symbols to sites of mysterious fires because your dreams told you to? And you don't even know //what it does//?" He gives her a //look//. But adds, "Does anything happen? When you add the symbol?" "Maybe it's a ban, prevents the spirit from setting fire to the same place twice." Elias says, more rummaging through his head for a reason to do it afterwards. "I'd almost want to risk putting it somewhere out of the way that in it's pattern but out of the way of people and see if it lights up or stays out." He hisses softly under his breath. "I don't know enough about spirits." "Not that I know of. I go, I make the mark, and I leave. It's not.. I don't even know if I'm guessing right. I feel it. Touch. Things hold onto energy. I touch the van and I /listen/, and I can feel the heat, and smell the smoke... And when I do, I make the mark." The woman says, struggle to explain the inexplicable to the men. "That might be worth trying," Solomon murmurs to Elias. "At least to see what might happen." He falls quiet as the woman begins to speak, his expression shading to 'troubled' over grumpy. Curiously, he asks, "Are you a medium or shaman? Have you experienced dreams and visions like this before, or is this the first time?" "When do you feel it, after the fire has already burned?" Elias asks, suddenly a little excited. If she has any possibility of being an early warning system. "There's some intending to fight this thing, we need every advantage we can get over it. Location, what it hates, everything." "Psychometry, not precognition. My gran could do it. Um.." The girl's face scrunches up before she controls the response. "She died in the first fires. I found the pendant hidden in her jewelry box after the funeral, and knew it was for me. And then I started feeling things when I touched them. And here I am. I don't know much of anything about anything, but that the coin will keep me safe, and the symbol needs to be made where the fire has stepped." "Sorry. About your gran." It's a rough sort of sympathy, but Solomon does seem to mean it. He looks to Elias. "We can probably let her go. If she runs, we can always catch her again." A flash of a toothy grin at the poor woman. "Psychometry, hmm? You don't happen to possess any items formerly owned by an O'Leary, do you? Or be blood relations?" His head cocks to one side. There's a slow nod from Elias as he takes his hands off her arm and takes a step back, hooking his thumbs into his jeans pockets. It's obvious he's not keeping up on the lingo quite as well as Solomon, but he's piecing it together from the conversation. "Well, it explains why the mundane fires weren't marked. I'm still not seeing the point of making the mark though. IT's not telling it where to hit, just marking where it has been. Why leave a trail?" Elias lets go and the girl tries to find her balance and ease out of Solomon's hold, if he'll let her. "O'Leary? I don't.. think so? I'm a Robinson. Melinda Robinson. Gran just called me Mellie. She used to talk a lot about the city and the shadows. No one really listened, she had dementia and we ended up putting her in a home about..." She considers, letting out a long breath. "almost five years ago, now?" Ish. She looks around and pushes the hood back from her face a little, enough to show a peek of dark hair, green eyes, and a few freckles. Nineteen, twenty or so. Young, but not a -kid-. Solomon releases her when Elias does, taking a step back so that he's not //looming// quite so hard. "Hmm." He sighs, runs one hand through his hair, before looking to Elias, then the van. "Why not let her try the mark? We can see if anything happens. If we ken." That //might// come off sounding like 'can', but from the lift of his eyebrows towards Elias, he certainly means it to refer to kenning, and is perhaps hoping that the slight difference in pronounciation slides under the woman's radar. "Sounds like a good enough plan. It's how I tracked down the spirit fires out of normal ones anyway." Elias motions with a nod to the van. "Go ahead, do your thing, please." See? He's even being polite about it, but he opens up those supernatural senses attuned to the weird and strange. Between the two of them, maybe they can pick something out. "I can do that for you." Melinda agrees, amenable to trying to help, even if she is probably not much help in the long run. Fetching the little green scouring pad, she warns. "The van is not cooperating very well, this might take a bit. The walls and windows and stuff were a lot easier." And then gets to work. True to word, though, it takes a bit to get a satisfactory brand worked into the ruin the fire left behind. The brand in a hoof print of the beast. Surely the pair get the tinglies off off each other, and maybe Sol might get a tiny trace of /something/ as the symbol is finalized but, really, it seems to be just a mundane mark scuffed into the soot of a destroyed van. Solomon crosses his arms over his chest, and makes a very helpful sort of grunt. He does seem intensely interested in Melinda's process, trying to tune in to the world around him, sort out the 'real' from the 'unreal'. A wry smile towards Elias as the other man presence is almost certainly one of the things that stands out as 'unreal'. But from the mark, there's only the faintest of tingles. Just enough that he narrows his eyes at it, before shaking his head. "I don't think it's magic in and of itself. Just a cattle brand. But if it has an effect, we perhaps //should// try it on places at risk." "The pier. It's already been attacked once. I can show you where it started. Maybe if we draw the symbol there we can keep it protected." Elias says with a shake of his head, not picking up on anything himself as the symbol is drawn. "But it does make more sense that it's a protective thing." He pulls the white cloth off his wrist and looks for a nice burned area to get it covered in ashes and soot. "It's close by, we can dirty up a spot on the pier with this, draw the symbol in it, and them keep an eye on it." "I don't think it much matters who marks it, as long as it gets marked." Mel says, "I don't really... my gut isn't pulling one way or the other, you know? It just needs done, it doesn't seem to say /I/ have to be the one doing it." She pats herself down, tucking the green scrubby into a hoodie pocket before coming up with a pen and motioning to Elias. "I can give you my number." A sign of trust, maybe. "Interesting. If you do end up feeling as if there's something that needs to be done, perhaps reach out to him," a nod to Elias, "about it? I gather this thing is dangerous, and unnamed feelings are often dreadfully uncaring about the personal well-being of those who are at their mercy." Other than that, Solomon seems content to let her go without any more harassment. "That'd be nice if it works. My apartment isn't too far from here, I'd hate for it to burn down. I keep my stuff there." Elias holds out his hand for Mel to scribble her number on, and will add it to his phone on the walk back. "Doc, you up to hit the pier on our way back?" He doesn't really wait for an answer though, he wants to get out of the auto crematorium before he permanently has burnt plastic smell up his nose. | |