ArchivedLogs:Underground Investigations

From X-Men: rEvolution
Revision as of 10:15, 2 November 2013 by Lainzilla (talk | contribs) (Created page with "{{ Logs | cast = Noah, Howl | summary = Making fiends. | gamedate = 2013-11-02 | gamedatename = | subtitle = | location = Underground | categories = Mutants, Howl,...")
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)
Jump to navigationJump to search
Underground Investigations
Dramatis Personae

Noah, Howl

In Absentia


2013-11-02


Making fiends.

Location

Underground


The sounds filter through the tunnels ever so often. Off and on, on the outskirts of the tunnels near a subway connection, are the screeching sounds. Either the brakes on the subways in that area could really use some severe attention, or some giant screech owl or bat has taken up residence as of late. Or perhaps a new, especially noisy enormous insect.

At any rate, the noises are easier to identify to anyone that may be patrolling nearby, despite the echoes: it's actually some kind of high pitched shriek, more akin to a mutant with some kind of super voice that's regularly screaming out into the pitch black of the tunnels. It carries no emotion, just a horribly eerie, ghastly note that makes the darkness throb against eardrums just slightly, suggestive of how high up in pitch it may go.

And this night, suddenly it's close. VERY close.

Every Morlock has to patrol sometime, and given that their numbers aren't /that/ great, not much time tends to pass between patrols for each person. Howl has been lucky enough not to be on patrol while that sound has been out there, but he /has/ been hearing it. Until now, he hadn't thought too much of it - but now that it's getting closer, apparently something is going to have to be done about it.

The man - who can hardly pass as normal - has a somewhat non-traditional set of patrol equipment. No real /weapons/ to speak of, instead he carries a sawed-off broomhandle that he uses as a walking-stick, in one hand, and a gallon jug of water in the other. He's also wearing a green army blanket like a cloak, and it covers up most of his more severe mutations, but the fox ears are still pretty obvious.

He's silent as he approaches what seems to be the source of the noise, hunched over slightly, and he periodically taps the floor with that stick as if he's checking for something.

There current scream wails off in what MUST be just a tangent off of the current tunnel the fox-eared man is in presently, and then things plunge fully into silence for several heartbeats. Then, there's some scraping, just inside a tunnel perhaps a dozen yards off and to the side. A thick black shape, the size of perhaps a gym bag, is sticking out perhaps a foot into the passageway, the movement of it causing the scraping, maybe. It has longish black prongs on it, and leads to more-- as it's attached to the creature currently inhabiting that passageway. Which... seems to be muttering to itself. It's not quiet about it, either, but the best words of the bunch are: "Let GO." And "Stupid." And a bunch of scraping. The big body of the pitch black mutant is blocking most all of the passage he's in, back to the arrival.

Once Howl determines which tunnel is the source of the noise, he turns down that way, his ears flattening a bit when things suddenly go silent, as though anticipating a surge in volume. Once he actually /sees/-- something, though, he just has to pause and stare for a moment. Clearly, this is not exactly what he was expecting - if he was even expecting anything - and so it takes him a moment to figure out how to react.

Once he does decide the best course of action, though, he clears his throat gently, tapping the stick on the ground once more before holding it firmly. "Excuse me," he hesitantly offers, in a thick Welsh accent. "Does something seem to be the matter?"

There's a sudden burst of scream in a hurry. This is a sharp, quick pulse, and actually rings of surprise. Evidently, the screamer had not been paying attention, or was startled: it's clearly reactive to the speech. The black spikey thing is also hauled out of the corridor as Noah orients, whirling around with a huge scraping sound as he bangs into the wall partially in his hurry to turn about in a space that isn't great for the manuever at the moment. "I'm NOT stuck," is announced in a sort of defensive tone; a masculine voice but with a lot of smoker's gravel in it, and a hiss upper register that rings of the same screams he was emitting. There's no fear: it's more of a statement to defend an injured pride. None of him is visible, unless Howl chooses to approach and look in, at least from that angle.

With a sharp yelp, Howl stumbles backwards in surprise, ears remaining flat as his cape-blanket rustles a moment. He recovers quickly enough, however, though there is somewhat of a frown as he replies, slowly, "I wouldn't dream of suggesting such a thing." The hand with the walking stick is lifted to scratch the back of his head, the stick not leaving his grip as he does so, but he isn't outwardly threatening at all yet; just on his guard. "Are you supposed to be here? I don't mean to be rude, but I don't know you, and I try to keep on top of these things."

More scrapes. Kind of in a rapid way. Scrape. Scrapescrapescrapescrape. Something metal on the wall. And a clatter, and some more of that. "Supposed? Not /supposed/ to be anywhere," Noah answers indignantly. His tone is annoyed, but it's probably hard to tell exactly where it's directed. "We can fight about it if you want," Noah adds somewhat directly and blandly, pausing in the scraping, entirely silent, which is something of a change to the constant noise otherwise.

"...I'd, er, rather not, if it's all the same to you." Frowning somewhat, Howl takes a step or two backwards, looking from side to side for a moment, uncertainly. "It's just that there's been a bit of a din of late and you do seem to be the culprit. If there's something you're having /difficulty/ with..?" The back of his head gets scratched once more, and when he brings the stick back to the ground he's tapping it idly, in a fidgety manner. "But either way I am afraid I'm going to have to ask that you find someplace else to inhabit, once you're finished with whatever it is you're doing."

"You don't like my /singing/?" Noah asks, in a wounded voice. And with some scraping, slides out fully from his spot, nearly crouched fully, clawed weird, distended hands nearly on the ground from the posture. If he was standing he'd probably be just over six feet, excepting the tail, which adds a ton to that. He's not bulky but his odd limbs with thick chunks of misshapen armor are irregular; he slides out of the corridor into the same passage as Howl without too much excessive sound, quickly hopping out--- until his heavy tail slams into the side of the passage with a metallic scrape that echoes. Noah's an eerie thing, particularly in the dim lighting, a black monster out of a horror science fiction story, with his lack of eyes, fanged low-slung jaws slightly open gruesomely. "Not staying in slimy pit anyway. Everybody wins. Go away," he says, aggressively. If it matters, there's some metal railing or entirely mangled ladder stuck into the heavy armor on his flank: logic would suggest he was working to pry it off. But considering the rest of his monsterous appearance, probably very easy to overlook.

Howl takes another few steps back when Noah steps into his corridor, gripping the stick more tightly but, to his credit, not actually using it. At that command, he first replies, simply, "Quite." and, frowning in thought, finally just gives a quiet shake of his head. "I have no interest in pursuing an altercation, but not everyone is as lenient as I am." He takes another few steps back, pausing a moment before he considers departure, but adds as a final remark, "You may do well to keep to yourself, in any event. Good day." And with that he does turn to head back the way he came, a bit more quickly than he'd arrived to begin with.