The Salt-Stained Ledger(Obadiah)
Date: 2025-11-01 22:22
(The Salt-Stained Ledger(Obadiah):Obadiah)
[Sat Nov 1 2025]
Street Outside of The Fairhaven Maritime Museum/span>The street leading up to the Fairhaven Maritime Museum is narrow and uneven, more cobblestone than asphalt, with patches of tar glistening under the dim yellow of the streetlamps. The ocean is only a few blocks away, but you can already taste it in the air: sharp, metallic, and tinged with rotting kelp. On quieter nights, you can hear the low groan of foghorns out in the bay, echoing through the mist like something breathing in its sleep.
The museum itself looms over the waterfront like an old sea captain turned to stone. Its facade is built from weathered brick and salt-streaked limestone, the kind that always seems wet no matter how dry the day’s been. The tall windows are shuttered from the inside, but thin strips of lamplight leak through. The front steps are slick with rain, and the brass handrail is cold enough to sting.
Across the street, the Fairhaven Docks Pub spills muffled laughter and accordion music into the fog, but it feels distant, like the sound’s traveling from another time. The lamppost nearest the museum flickers intermittently, casting long, watery shadows that distort the engraved letters above the entrance: FAIRHAVEN MARITIME MUSEUM, EST. 1871./span>afternoon, about 69F(20C) degrees, and there are a few wispy white clouds in the sky. The mist is heaviest At Mayflower and Darkwater/span>steps out of the mirror like a boss, boots clacking on the cobblestones as he leads the group to the front of the building as he pulls out his case file and flips it open and shows photos of some woodcuts that show a pirate ship and an oil painting of a man that is clean cut but definitely has a darkness in his eyes. “Right well. Here we are. Scooby, Velma, Daphne, Shaggy and…” he looks at Matthew, “Sorry you are Fred.”
Tessa ducks her head, stifling a laugh into her sleeve.
Matthew reaches to his collar and gives it a little pop, “I’d have worn my bell bottoms if I knew that,” he says, not the least bit upset to be dubbed the Fred of the bunch. “Someone has to be Freddy.” He flashes teeth, grinning.
Eric trots along at Obadiah’s flank, a strange contrast of impeccably dressed in finery, fancy shoes clicking with every step, while simultaneously being slung with enough weapons to hunt bear. “Dibs on Daphne,” he asserts, peeking over Obadiah’s shoulder to get a look at the photos.
And yet, despite the glasses and generalized nerd status, Teagan is actually in her Daphne costume. Because it was fitting. And what is Halloween if not being something you generally are not? Plus, Velma would require a radically different hairstyle. She does giggle-snort, just a bit, as Matthew pops his collar. Undoing her coat since it’s a bit warmer than it was outside the botanical gardens, she does move near enough to take a peek at the photos herself.
“You are Scooby and you know it,” Obadiah deadpans to Eric before looking down at his case files and flipping through to the start, “Ok Scooby gang, were any of you able to look into the Widow’s Wake or her captain?”
Matthew pulls a face and scratches his head, “Gosh,” he says, getting into his Freddy character, “I didn’t think to look into any of those things.” He looks to the Velma of the group, expecting real answers to come from over there.
Tessa squishes herself in, against Obadiah, peeking at the pictures. “He looks like he’s seen some shit,” she murmurs, voice thoughtful, not offering up her suggestions on who’s who. “I wish, but… no, sorry, babe.”
And here is where maybe it’s probably a good thing she didn’t actually come looking like Velma because Teagan can only shrug. “I only offered to help a couple days ago. I didn’t have time to look into anything. Maybe Scooby knows something.”
Eric huffs out a breath, before accepting his fate. “Uh, rut ro,” he offers, looking extremely abashed. “None of the folks I texted about it ever got back to me, so…” There’s a shrug of broad shoulders and an idle lift of one palm, “I guess we just go in and shake people until answers fall out?”
“Shake people down?” Matthew doesn’t have any qualms with that, shrugging as he peers down the street towards the museum. “I wonder if we’ll get to see any of the ghost ships out in the harbor.” He points towards the pub, “Maybe even some of the locals have seen the ships, but probably the museum’s where we should start, right, gang?”
“Right well, here is what we know,” Obadiah says when he pulls out several artifacts and talks through them all with the team.” He pulls out a description of the ship first, “In 1767 the Window’s Wake, a brig that had been captained by Captain Jedediah Harrow. Captain Harrow was an unlikable man, by all accounts. Public records say that his crew was either… a crew of the damned or were about to consign him to the briny deep when the hurricane hit. Freak storm that caused the ship and all hands to be lost.”
Obadiah pauses for questions before moving on, “Fast forward to two months ago when Natasha Vetranova National Treasured this bitch and found the ship off the point of Long Island.”
“Right well, here is what we know,” Obadiah says when he pulls out several artifacts and talks through them all with the team. He pulls out a description of the ship first, “In 1767 the Window’s Wake, a brig that had been captained by Captain Jedediah Harrow. Captain Harrow was an unlikable man, by all accounts. Public records say that his crew was either… a crew of the damned or were about to consign him to the briny deep when the hurricane hit. Freak storm that caused the ship and all hands to be lost.”
Obadiah pauses for questions before moving on, “Fast forward to two months ago when Natasha Vetranova National Treasured this bitch and found the ship off the point of Long Island.” (Fix because I am a dork)
There is a bit of a snicker at the use of ‘National Treasure’ as a verb, but otherwise Teagan doesn’t appear to have any questions yet. She’s just taking it all in for the moment. Any photos, news paper clippings, or even physical artifacts she takes in turn to examine before passing them off to anyone else in the group interested in checking them out up close. “What do we know about Vetranova?”
Eric murmurs sidelong to Matthew, “I’m hoping for some Night at the Museum shit, honestly. Love those movies.” Then he’s turning his gaze back to Obadiah, attentive, nodding along. “National Treasure’s good too, I guess.” He lifts a finger, “So he’s either a bad guy with a bunch of damned souls, or he’s a bad guy and his crew wanted to murder him. Or both.”
Tessa listens attentively, icy blue eyes trained on Obadiah, his hands, nodding faintly. “So… probably some sort of deal, to survive…”
“So she sold the Log book to the museum?” Matthew asks Obadiah, nodding towards the museum, “Thinkin’ it’s gotta be connected somehow, right?” What Teagan adds earns another confirmation and the Montrose shakes his head at Eric, “Never saw it, but did see national treasure, good adjective. I’m wonderin what Vetranova got out of it and where she stay at.”
“Natasha was a competitive freediver and black market salvager by night, Maritime Historian and artifact recovery specialist by day. Uzbek by nationality. Uzbeky? Oh my god Uzbecky look at her butt…” He lifts a hand and waves off the bad rap reference and continues on, “She seems to know something about the occult but isn’t like, an oculist. Mostly the schmuck that found the damn thing and tried to turn a profit.”
Continuing Obadiah tries to get back on track and says, “Anyway, she was a salvage diver and brought up some routine artifacts including a chest that was found in the captain’s quarters. Inside was a ledger that made its way here to the Fairhaven Maritime Museum.” He motions to the old facade behind him. “Since the ledger arrived, there have been ghost ship sightings in the harbor, the museum is doing haunted spooky shit, and it is vexing one of the board members of the museum.” He wrinkles his nose and says, “So we are here to figure out what we can about the ledger, the ghosts, and how to get them to leave. Easy peasy.”
Eric says “first thing’s first then, I reckon? Take a glance at this ledger and get an idea of the captain’s character. Figure out if we’re dealing with him causing it, the crew causing it, or both?“
“Matthew and I are practically experts with ledgers and ghosts,” Teagan says, glancing over to the man with a smirk. “But yeah, ledger is probably the place to start.”
Matthew snorts at Uzbecky, Obadiah really knows how to hold his attention. As the rest of the details are shared, he asks, “So Shaggy, what’s that mean bout the ink lookin’ fresh, that’s what the reports said, right? We got any ideas how many hands it passed through between Uzbecky and Urmom…” a pause, “I mean museum?”
“I’m…. frequently clairvoyant, clairaudient, or both, so… maybe that’ll help,” Tessa offers up to Obadiah, arms crossing and wrapping about her middle. She nods at Eric, agreeing with that, though she does say, “I think this is… maybe I’m biased though.”
“Apparently I still have signal out here,” Obadiah muses as he taps off a response and slides his phone away. “Well, not as many hands as Urmom has passed through.” He wags his brows and takes a breath looking towards the imposing facade and takes a step through the rain and to the door, pausing to turn back and adds, “Just… you know, usual ghost protocol. Don’t make deals, don’t cross the streams, usual stuff.”
“And if someone asks if I’m a god, I say yes?” Teagan quips as she follows after Obadiah.
“My closest friends are a ccultist and two Fae, my life is a series of deals,” Tessa complains, following along, seemingly not having any issue walking in her tall heels, or in the rain.
Eric steps past Obadiah, swinging the doors open for him with a passable impression of the trademark Scooby laugh, and an all too satisfied sweep of his braids back over jacket-clad shoulders. “I’ve no idea what to do about ghosts, but I’ll avoid all streams in and out of the bathroom. Got it.”
Matthew is caught between laughing and not laughing when it it’s his mom now being passed through hands. Hypocrite. He’s about the same as Shaggy when it comes to ghost knowledge, but he does repeat back the advice, “No deals, no crossing streams, the usual stuff…” He doesn’t look like he knows what the usual stuff might be, bro really just floats through life. “Got it. Y’all think this some necromancy level stuff if ghosts involved?”
Eric nods affirmatively to Matthew, telling him without a moment of hesitation, “I literally always think it’s Thomas’s fault, somehow. Regardless of the situation.”
Tessa lovingly, not so subtly, punches Eric in the bicep with her left. “Stop blaming my boss,” she complains. “I could’ve just been the battery, but noooo, ghosts might steal the baby.”
Matthew nods over at Tessa, “Ghosts for sure steal babies. They want to start fresh!”
Inside, Teagan starts to shrug out of her coat… and opts to keep it on, finding it more chilly than expected. “Not necessarily,” she says to Matthew. “I feel like there’d be fewer ghosts overall if it was always necromancy.”
“Probably is,” Obadiah says to Eric. “Love Sera to bits, have no clue what she sees in him.”
He takes a step in and closes the door behind them looking around the interior. This time of night they are the only ones here, even the night watchman is somewhere else. How Obadiah was able to open the front door is one of those mysteries best left unanswered, pleasurable dependability and all of that. “Oh one more piece, this letter came to me from Au… one of the board members. The Curator reported that since the ledger has been on display the glass is continually fogged. Anyway it is over in the age of exploration wing.” He motions towards that wing, “Otherwise we should probably look for clues.”
“Well, this bun’s got about six more months to bake, or seven, or six and a half, depending on if you ask a smart doctor or Dr. Lin,” Tessa says, patting her stomach. “But, nah, necromancy’s the obvious choice. Or an old man in a mask.”
Eric hums absently under his breath as he starts off towards the wing Obadiah indicated, peering around at the various displays. “Wish clues had big flashing arrows like in video games,” comes the disgruntled mutter, before he’s lifting his head and sniffing experimentally at the air, nostrils flared.
Matthew just listens now, quiet and walking along with the Scooby gang. His eyes are peeled, though! Along with his nose and ears.
OOC: Anyone who wants to do any sort of investigation, feel free to do a try
Eric smells nothing but the stink of his own failure and disappointment.
“Or a convenient glow around them to be like lookie here,” Teagan agrees with Eric. She does dig around in her messenger bag and pulls out… a laptop. “Apologize to your buddy later for me,” she tells Obadiah as she flips it open and proceeds to try to get into the museum’s CCTV systems. Hopefully they use the cloud for backups and not — eugh — old school tapes. Juggling the laptop and walking will be tricky, but she does try to keep up and not lag behind. Never split the party. (Except they always split the party.)
Tessa is distracted by looking at something in Obadiah’s collection of reference materials, and isn’t actually paying enough attention, apparently.
Our good boy Eric can’t get a sniff of anything unusual as the scent of the sea is just too overwhelming here. Is it the proximity to the sea, or is it something inside the museum, it is hard to tell.
Tessa for her part keeps catching glimpses out of the corner of her eye, maybe a foot step here or there but when she looks and really focuses… nothing.
Teagan gets access to the terminal, but apparently the system is so old, that yes everything is recorded to tape.
Eric reports with a sigh, “It just smells like the ocean. Which is either, the ocean, Obi, or the bad guy.” Then he sneezes, explosively, nearly falling into a passing display.
It is literally nobody’s fucking night tonight. Matthew’s pure dumb luck, or fate’s divine intervention, doesn’t even stumble into something. Obadiah gets distracted by the vending machine, “Hey guys! They have Yoohoo! I haven’t had Yoohoo in like… a decade. Matt do you have, uh, Seventy five cents?”
Matthew starts digging into his pockets, “I got a dollar,” he offers, pulling out a crumpled bill that will definitely need to be straightened out before it’s fed to any machine. Who even crumples their money like it’s trash? LEave it to a Montrose. “Here Mercer, I’m always happy to help with the donation fund.”
Eric pauses, glancing back over his shoulder, then turning fully around to examine the vending machine. “Maybe we should get some chips too,” he muses. “There could be a clue hidden inside the vending machine.”
Behold, the greatest band of investigators ever to grace these halls. Teagan is distracted by the echo of Eric’s sneeze in the vastly empty space and nearly drops her laptop with a gasp of horror as she fumbles and crouches in place to make sure she doesn’t lose it in a very expensive happy birthday to the ground. “If it only costs seventy-five cents, it’s probably been in there for a decade,” she says as she straightens back up and clutches the device closer to her.
“Naw,” Matthew tells someone “I’m in the vending machine business and I can tell you, we vendors change them out and check them regularly.” He nods with pride.
“Naw,” Matthew tells Teagan “I’m in the vending machine business and I can tell you, we vendors change them out and check them regularly.” He nods with pride.
Eric coughs, patting Teagan on the shoulder and blushing. “Sorry. Got sea up my nose.”
“We aren’t poor,” Obadiah says, taking the dollar like the cheap Scot he is and feeding it into the machine to get his fake chocolaty drink out of spite for the, arguably, wealthier Montrose. When it falls out of the machine with a clunk he picks it up, pops the top, and takes a sip. “Just like mom used to give me. Anyway… Tea-na-rino, do you think maybe you would have better luck at the security desk? Its right around the corner there.” He motions to a staircase, “Tess you and Eric want to go check the basement? Matt and I can go look at the book proper in the Age of Discovery wing.”
“Yo,” Matthew tells Obadiah, “I totally did bring some spray paint if this is like.. well we’re missing Pierce but–” he drops his voice, “an MPM decoration, plus yeah, totally let’s check out the book, see what’s going on there.” Did he really just suggest they should vandalize this spot? Not very Scooby of him.
“The spooky basement?” Tessa asks, only a touch indignant. “We shouldn’t split up,” comes, as is obligated.
Eric winces a little at the word basement, but he straightens his shoulders, reaching out to take Tessa’s hand. “There’s always something awful in the basement,” he laments to Obadiah. “If I get made a strapping cabinboy by a long-dead pirate I’m going to haunt you forever.”
“Probably,” Teagan says to Obadiah. “A direct connection is always more stable.” And as an aside to Matthew “But is this one of your vending machines? Maybe they aren’t so… meticulous.” Closing her laptop and tucking it under her arm, she starts her way toward the security desk. “I’ll see about getting the cameras up,” she tells Tessa, “and keep an eye on everyone.” Or watch the ghosts ambush them. Six of one; half dozen of another.
Matthew stage whispers to Obadiah, “I thought you were Shaggy, but if Tessa’s goin with Scooby, then she might be Shaggy and you are clearly Velma…. or Daphne.” Teagan’s question earns a brief wave of his hand, “Not one of mine, but we vending machien vendors have a code, never let the food mold. That Yohoo was just like his mom’s too!”
“I’m Shaggy, he’s Velma, he’s got the gams for a turtleneck,” Tessa says, deadpan, lacing her fingers into Eric’s, the joke, of course, being she’s wearing precisely that.
“Oh please, I couldn’t get that lucky,” Obadiah says to Eric with a motion towards the basement, “Plus the archives are down there. You might be able to see what records they have on the situation. He leans into Matthew and returns, “Teagen is clearly Daphne. I am totally Shaggy. Velma just has a… Nope. Not to night Mercer. Not tonight, but yes keep the paint handy.”
OOC: I made some places for you to join if you want to conduct your investigations by slipping the party, or if you want to hop room to room, I don’t care.
“Oh please, I couldn’t get that lucky,” Obadiah says to Eric with a motion towards the basement, “Plus the archives are down there. You might be able to see what records they have on the situation.” He leans into Matthew and returns, “Teagen is clearly Daphne. I am totally Shaggy. Velma just has a… Nope. Not to night Mercer. Not tonight, but yes keep the paint handy.”
OOC: I made some places for you to join if you want to conduct your investigations by slipping the party, or if you want to hop room to room, I don’t care.
Eric sets off, hand in hand with Tessa, to find the basement, and whatever horrible things may lurk within.
pads along, heels clicking on the floor, the steps, loud and absolutely obnoxious. “So… I don’t know if he noticed,” Tessa starts, yapping to Eric, “But… the thing, the ledger, Obie had totally said there was a recent entry. Like, Halloween eve,” she shares.
Eric blinks at Tessa, stopping midstep for a moment before he continues on. “That, can’t be a coincidence,” he agrees, frowning. “He also said all the ink was fresh though, so how do they know?”
“Well, it’s a ledger, they’re dated,” Tessa drawls to Eric. “I was totally paying attention to the investigation and not at all checking him out, scouts honor,” she adds, crossing in a pentagram over her heart – cheeky little shit.
Around the corner, the stairs, and Teagan finds the security desk. She drops into the appropriately squeaky spinny chair and pulls herself up to the computer. “Alrighty, probably a security company, rotating roster of people…” Her laptop is set down, but she starts out with the obvious: looking for the classic post-it or similar with the login details.
Obadiah walks with Matthew and stops in front of the case sipping his cold, refreshing, Yoohoo. “So, that’s the book,” he motions to the other man at the case. There is something odd though…
Eric lets out a long suffering sigh, reaching over to flick Tessa’s nose. “I’m sure. And, I meant, genius, some long dead pirate isn’t going to write the modern day date, right? Probably?”
Over in The Age of Discovery Wing with Obadiah, Matthew checks out all the great relics of the world’s greatest Colonizers. He keeps his hands in his pockets like he’s waiting for one of them to apologize. “Ah ys,” he says, nodding sagely at a gold-plated compass, “The Holy Trinity, Spain, France, and England. Three nations built entirely on mistakes and godo PR.” He leans towards a faded map behind some glass, squinting, “Wild how every time they ‘discovered’ something, somebody was already living there. This is the power of good marketing.” He pulls a sharpie from his pocket, and proceeds to write, ‘Colonize THESE nuts’ on one of the displays.
It is conveniently next to the book they are supposed to be studying, and once he’s looking up from the map display he’s just vandalized, he moves in to study the book. “Oh, this the thing?”
“Yesssssss,” Teagan crows out, taking a victory spin in the chair. There’s no one to appreciate it, but that just means later she can regale them with tales of how hard she worked to get in. As the cameras all flicker to life on the displays, she flips through the log. “Huh.” She snaps a photo of the note in the log and sends it to Obie. Then back to the cameras. “First things fiiiiirst…” She seeks out the cameras in the basement and in the wing that Fred and Shaggy are in, posting them up on another screen. “Alright… please have modern recordings, please have modern recordings…”
Eric prowls through the basement, or as close to a prowl as he can anyway in a full suit and extremely loud shoes. He’s peering into every corner, sniffing the air, sort of just wandering and hoping. It’s clear this isn’t really his area of expertise, but he’s got that dogged determination.
As Matthew draws closer to the display he pauses. He rocks back a step then steps forward again. Then once more. Yup. A light bulb goes off in Matthew’s head and he crouches low, daring to touch the floor with his hands and sure enough, he confirms it after all. “Mercer,” he calls up towards Obadiah, “all this time I thought we was smelling the ocean but no, it’s coming from here.” Then he sees it.
That drip… drip…. …….. drip…. drip
Beneath the display case the wood has become waterlogged, seeping through and he points this out too before finally he reads that text. “If this ain’t some mad captain’s damning chant to Davey Jones, I dunno what is, you got any thoughts?”
Eric squints to read the etching on the bell. “Harrow commands us still,” he quotes, eyes narrowing further. “Sounds like the crew are just tools and it’s the captain for sure. Still, wonder why the bell’s down here when the ledger is upstairs. Maybe we should bring them together? Or at least show the others.” He tries to get a good grip on the bell, attempting to lift it.
Tessa nods, having been staring into a corner much as a cat might, in the uncomfortable way where you’re not sure if they’re a little addled or a little supernaturally gifted. “Don’t drop it, please, I cannot boulder run in these heels while microwaved,” she calls, padding after him.
“Oh I have thoughts,” Obadiah mutters to Matthew as he walks to stand next to him, hand in his pocket and looking over the box. “The Ocean… rarely gives up her dead,” he says in a tone that Matthew has never heard before, or rarely has. It’s his serious voice, there is no humor to it, no mischievous back note. “I don’t like it Matty. If it weren’t for my Aunt Janet being on the board here I would say we just run out of here. No good is going to come from tonight.”
Eric holds up the bell to a camera as they pass, making sure the words are clearly visible if Teagan is watching. He points at them emphatically.
“Dammit Janet,” Matthew says, shooting up to stand, he tries to match Obadiah’s serious demeanor, he’s at least wiped the smile off his face, affecting him somber. He even folds his arms overchest. “Well I ain’t tryna get cursed every time I go swimmin, or take anyone’s dead, but sounds like this is a Davey Jones situation. So… there some treasure that was disturbed and like… some bones moved… what we dealin with?”
“Ugh, orbs,” Teagan says as she pulls up the recordings. No one trusts those! But she keeps going through and even checks through the paper logs, taking more photos of anything that stands out. Like temperature changes. She downloads the recording to her phone, just in case. And looks up just in time to see Eric holding up the bell. She has to lean in and squint, but she is able to get the words off of it.
Intercom… intercom… Ah! “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking-” a pause for snickers as she realizes, then: “Ahem, Team Basement found something. A bell. Text on it reads Harrow Commands Us Still.” And then she’s back to looking through the footage trying to find the lantern swinging, perhaps.
Tessa lifts up the thumbdrive, no sense of self-preservation, and she reads aloud, loudly, “Evidence… We found… Teag, I have evidence for you,” called up the stairs.
Eric asks Tessa, “You think the bell is how he summons them, or whatever? Like, ring the bell, everyone in for dinner type of deal?”
Eric stops, mouth half-open. “Oh.” He’s suddenly looking between the bell and the thumbdrive, frowning. “Well. Mine’s bigger.”
Tessa opens her mouth as though to respond to Eric, blushes, and shuts her mouth.
“The part I didn’t tell the others?” Obadiah says with a frown and squint, “Natasha Vetranova? She didn’t tell anyone where she found the wreck. Not the precise location anyway.” He looks back to Matthew, “She brought up a number of things and sold them to an A. Harrow and Sons Maritime Salvage company, however she was paid quite a little some to retrieve something else from the wreckage for the Mercers. She went out, we have a copy of the last transmission, but she hasn’t been seen since.”
Matthew’s eyes widen just a bit, he tugs a frown, but the Montrose understands family secrets and family dealings. He may not understand it fully, but he nods, recognizing the gravity of it all. “So, she’s missing too, that last transmission, anything there that would provide a little extra meaning to–” he nods towards the endlessly dripping book, “all that? And… what about the Mercer’s thing, y’all ever get what you was lookin for?”
“She’s unaccounted for, yes,” Obadiah says before pulling up his phone and loading an audio file before hitting play. “[crackle] visibility low hull intact hearing bells? Waitno surface signal [deep gasp, muffled voice] its writing my name [static]” the recording plays as Obadiah takes a sip. He has heard it before apparently, and then when it stops he hits pause and holds out the almost empty beverage, “Want a sip?”
The continued searching through cameras and even spotting Tessa’s attempt to share information will have to wait. Because the chair Teagan is in squeaks again as she sits back heavily in it with a furrowed brow and a grunt. That furrow turns to a more lax expression that has all the markers of…
“I fucked up.” She paws out to try triggering the intercom again. And if it does work? “Guys, I fucked up. The words-” But that weight on her chest may make it too difficult if not impossible to do so!
Eric follows Tessa back up the stairs, still proudly brandishing the bell, intent on moving to Teagan to hand over the thumbdrive and the bell both. The bell clangs as he bumps it against the wall, he has to shift his grip on it to keep it from striking anything else.
Matthew’s knee jerk reaction to being the last sip of yahoo (probably hand-warmed by now) is a recoil and hell naw face that he manages to school down to a courteous, “Naw, I’m good.” A pause and he remembers his, “Thanks, though.” Another minute and Matthew helps himself to touching Obadiah’s phone, replaying that audio file again, really listening before saying, “You think… ok so bells, that’s spooky as fuck, but you think, didn’t you say it gets foggy in there?” He tips his head, looking back inside the display case, “Mercer, you think something was writing names on a fogged up glass cus if she’s at the helm tryna navigate and steer the ship, there’s no way she’s looking at something detailed and written in paper, right?”
“Mm,” Obadiah says finishing the drink before his head whips towards the reception desk and Teagan’s exclamations, briefly concerned, before he continues to tell Matthew, “She was diving. Approximately 300 feet under water when that recording was taken. Quite literally the last thing we have of her being alive was her seeing something being written in a book under the sea and the sound of bells.” He looks back towards Teagan, “Should we go see what that is?”
OOC: Can you all give me an occult knowledge roll for… reasons.
Tessa hums as she sashays up the stairs, heading toward the desk where Teagan is, followed by her puppy bodyguard. “Teag?” she calls out again, moving a bit faster to go check.
Matthew nods at Obadiah, “Yeah, let’s head on over,” he says, following over towards reception.
This tracks for Matthew, he would definitely not know anything about it, he thought a woman named Isabel Showers wss a top level Weathermancer who would put the entire city of New Haven under a raincloud (she only managed one of its boroughs).
Teagan is too busy choking on seawater to remember shit and Matthew doesn’t read. The other two however….
Matthew thinks reading is for literally anyone not in MegaBlue. Nerd. someone
Matthew thinks reading is for literally anyone not in MegaBlue. Nerd.
Which means anything over over the intercom was more like static with some coughing between. But then the intercom is off entirely as Teagan tries to get out of the chair, coughing repeatedly: trying to clear her lungs of the sea water that went from nothing to all she could taste and smell. Poor spinny chair. You were a good friend until you weren’t.
“Yeah let’s,” Obadiah says as he turns to walk way from the ledger and towards the main desk with Matthew.
Eric is running as soon as he hears the bell, scooping up Tessa in one arm on the move and barreling towards the reception desk, skidding and sliding across the floor in shoes entirely unsuitable to this.
Matthew actually doubles back, saying to Obadiah, “Actually Mercer… something’s just not right about the display case, I’mma hang back and just put my phone camera on it for a while. See if there’s any spooky activity while you see what’s going on with Teagan.”
nods to Matthew and heads over towards the reception desk to see what is going on, throwing the Yoohoo bottle away in a trash can.
Matthew pulls out his phone and begins to record the case, doing what he does best, “Okay Chat,” he whispers, “so we’re inside this museum, right, and I was about to leave but then I heard this scratching noise and…” he slowly shifts to put himself into the frame, “You guys tell me, there a scratching noise to be heard?” And then he settles in nice and quiet, playing the waiting game as he plays stake out with a ghost(?).
Drowning isn’t some thing where you just sort of peacefully fade off into unconsciousness. The movies just do that to not, y’know, super freak people out. Which is why it’s actually probably an absolute, complete, and utter relief for Teagan when she does pass out. The resulting collapse sends wheely chair fleeing the scene like the guilty piece of furniture it is.
Tessa baps at Eric with one hand, saying, “It’s him, baby, it’s HIM, the ledger, let me steal ONE cursed thing!” she huffs. The batting at him is ineffectual, and she says, “Gotta… The ledger is his tie, he’s still around, the crew, they’re… he’s taking them!” Her eyes are wide, she sounds manic, but… he knows her. She’s probably got a point. “Two days ago, he brought more in, doesn’t care if they drown, they… I’m telling you, we need to either seal or destroy it.”
Eric bellows at the top of his lungs, “Obi Matt it’s a horcrux Tom Riddle is doing the thing! Kill the book!” Then he sees Teagan on the floor and tries to stop, skids on his shoes, and slams one shoulder into a wall, cushioning Tessa with his body and dropping the bell with an almighty CLANG.
“WHAT. THE. FUCK.” Matthew isn’t even quiet about it and he starts talking to the camera, “OK chat, This is seriously fucked. Seriously fucked. Like… Obie was right, this is… this is…” he doesn’t bother with on-camera antics and instead shuts his phone off and starts running back towards the Reception, calling, “Guys… its’ here, the ghost is here, It’s here like RIGHT now, it’s here, and it’s naming us. It’s here!”
Heels be damned, run, Tessa run. After a brief stumble the Battle Nun is running full tilt towards the dripping moist display cabinet
Tessa calls out, “Sugar, I know you have a lighter on you,” as she pats down her breasts, shoves a hand in her tote, and comes up empty. “Otherwise I’m sparking shit with a taser and we shouldn’t encourage my arson tendencies.” She may not be fae, but she’s fairly consistently decided luck will be on her side – and it’s worked – so her running for it, not caring if it means breaking glass, is unsurprising.
Well, maybe not trying to cough up anything literal. But the lungs will still convulse. Or were before panic times time equals no air and Teagan blacking out. The cameras at least are still trained on the two rooms, so those incoming to the desk will be able to see Tessa’s flight to the ledger.
scratches at his cheek, and wonders aloud before reaching into his pocket, “Should have brought rocksalt buckshot. Why do I never remember the rock salt?” Though he quickly sees the passed out Teagan and moves to herside to try and do, something, picking her up and patting her back like a baby trying to get her to cough and take a breath.
Matthew arrives just in time to find Teagan blacking out, “Is she drowning?” he asks Obadiah, and then says, “cus that ghost just wrote our names in its book.” He tries to assess what’s happening with the coed. “I think you’re supposed to push on their stomachs if they have water in their lungs,” is his attempt at helping.
Eric sees that Obadiah has Teagan, and is… Mama bearing her, so he regains his balance and skids on past, running full tilt towards the wing where the book is, unslinging his greataxe off his back.
That’s only if you’ve just finished running in slo-mo down a beach, Matthew. But the patting of Teagan’s back or maybe just the moving her does the trick. The jostling reminds her body how to function and she takes a deep breath, startling awake. “FUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck-” It starts as a shout and trails off into something of a horrified gasp into a series of coughs. “I read the bell, I think I started it.” More coughing. “I’m sorry, I fucked up.” Not, you know, aware that Eric had already read it aloud so unlikely that she triggered anything specifically.
Tessa calls out to Eric, “Come smash this, please,” as she’s doing… something. In a hood classic, she’s going to make her own damn fire, gum wrapper and a taser intending to spark it and do what she can against this fucking thing. ‘Fuckin’…. ghosts,” she huffs, mostly to herself.
“That man has an axe,” Obadiah says as he watches Tessa and Eric run off the other direction, and then just shakes his head slowly before looking back to Matthew, “I think she thinks she is drowning, or Captain Harrow is trying to drown her to make her part of his crew. She would make a good cabin girl or like… Deck hand or something. I dunno. I don’t think about my friends in pirate costumes much….” He says in a tone that belies the fact that everyone here has been in a pirate outfit at least once in the man’s imagination, before looking back to the woman in his arms, “Shh it’s ok. Ghost shit happens. Clearly this isn’t Casper.”
Eric takes the last stride in a supernatural bound, some easy thirty feet, axe held overhead and intending to bring the heavy blade down in a twohanded blow on the display.
“Yeah, this more like Davey Jones,” Matthew explains to Teagan, looking relatively shocked that his Bay Watch knowledge did not come in handy here. “Yeah, it’s totally gonna come for all of us, wrote our names down and everything!” He pulls out his phone and proceeds to share the footage, replaying it for Obadiah and someone, then says, “That axe to the book probably the right call??” he doesn’t sound so sure about what Eric and Tessa are up to.
On Matthew’s phone the screen shows: a new final entry being written: “The harbor stirs. New hands stand upon my deck. Their faces I see clear: Matthew Montrose, Teagen Lawson, Tessa MacEvoy, Eric Hannsen, Obadiah Mercer. Soon the Widow sails again.”
“Yeah, this more like Davey Jones,” Matthew explains to Teagan, looking relatively shocked that his Bay Watch knowledge did not come in handy here. “Yeah, it’s totally gonna come for all of us, wrote our names down and everything!” He pulls out his phone and proceeds to share the footage, replaying it for Obadiah and Teagan, then says, “That axe to the book probably the right call??” he doesn’t sound so sure about what Eric and Tessa are up to.
On Matthew’s phone the screen shows: a new final entry being written: “The harbor stirs. New hands stand upon my deck. Their faces I see clear: Matthew Montrose, Teagen Lawson, Tessa MacEvoy, Eric Hannsen, Obadiah Mercer. Soon the Widow sails again.”
“I was,” Teagan says, once she’s caught her breath. “There was this weight on me, like I was being held or pushed down. And it felt like my lungs were full of sea water.” But no water nearby. She coughs a few more times as she watches the footage on Matthew’s phone, either not in a hurry to leave Obadiah’s arms or too distracted right at the moment to do so. “How the hell does it know our names?” She shakes her head, chewing at her lip. “I feel like the bell’s gotta be connected, too. Security report says people hear them. What if the book is to summon and the bell to bind?”
As Eric’ ax shatters the glass protecting the case, a rush of water over takes him. Where it is from is not known but he is blown back, pieces of the museum start to float everything is starting to get damp with salt water. Images of a ship going down start to fill the Scooby gangs mind. As the lights flicker and dim, in the shadows eyes can be seen, always in the back of the room, just out of perception, but they can all feel it. They aren’t alone.
Then calm, like the middle of a hurricane as a voice, deep and resounding like a fog horn, fills their minds: “You belong to the the World of the Dead.”
“Jokes on you, fucko, I’m already sworn to the dead,” Tessa calls out, aloud, to the ghost, trying to get at the ledger, whether to grab it, to spark it, she doesn’t care at this point.
Tessa tries to spark the gum wrapper but damn if everything isn’t too wet at this point. You get a smoulder.
Eric is blasted backwards, still clinging onto his axe for dear life, but otherwise slamming into all manner of other exhibits and displays as he flies into a wall and ends up floating on his back. Dazed by the images and the voice, he’s trying to paddle with one hand and orient himself, struggling against the current. A growl tears loose from his throat in reply to that declaration of ownership, a snarl of defiance at the ghostly manipulation.
Tessa huffs, clearly having pictured it going… much more impressively. “This… is not my element,” she says, of the water very much not helping her bullshit. “I’m a tub girlie, not a… evil cursed book drowning us girlie,” her commentary not helping, mostly yapping, but it’s keeping her from panic.
Obadiah calls an audible and reaches into his back pack to procure a grimoire bound in dark leather and slides it over to Matthew, “Montrose… Open that to page like… 510 or something. I can try to calm the spirit but it won’t get rid of it. Someone is going to have to either banish it, or maybe if we try writing a different ending in the book? I don’t know!’
“I’m sorry, what?” Teagan blinks a few times rapidly, speaking in response to… well, whomst-the-fuck-ever. She grabs her laptop off the desk, shoves it in her bag, and starts rifling around in there. “Try writing a different ending? In the book I’m pretty sure-” she’s pointing at the monitor toward the (starting to fritz, surely) cameras in the other wing: “just got destroyed? I think we’re on banish it and I don’t know any… banishing whatevers off the top of my head.”
“Copy that!” Matthew just cracks the book open in the middle and begins to thumb through the pages until he finds page 510, until at last he does land on the page. He doesn’t know what he’s looking at, he’s not nerdy enough to actually read, and even if he did, it probably looks like latin to him. Still he holds it up, playing the dutiful book holder for Obadiah to read off whatever spell or voodoo he’s gonna do. “Banish the ghost… I helped banish a ghost the other day…. Had to like… give it what it wanted though, I dunno if that’s like in my wheel house? Teagan, you do magic right?”
Eric drops his axe, reaching out a clawing hand and seizing at the book, trying to drag it closer with invisible effort. “What if I stab it with this,” he roars to Obadiah, holding up what looks like the severed end of a manticore tail, complete with venomous stinger, in his free hand.
“I mean, kinda?” Teagan says to Matthew. “I’ve only recently started learning. I’ve got like, notebooks full of notes for when I do things at home.”
“WHere’s the book?” Matthew asks, assuming Obadiah’s not talking about the book in his hand right now. “Well fuck, that’s going to take too long. What are Tessa and Eric doing, doesn’t TEssa do magic? I swear she talks about magic in chat and hangs out with Thomas, right?”
“You know, this would be a lot easier if it went like Russia,” Tessa says, voice gone a bit shrill, a bit anxious.
Eric is able to summon the book with ease….
Eric snatches the book out of the air, and attempts to jab the manticore stinger, still dripping with noxious venom, directly into the pages.
“Worked for Harry Potter!” Obadiah says to Matthew and Eric. Given Eric’s increadibly fortuitous luck the manticore spike hits the pages and Eric gets drenched in a foul fluid of ink, brine, and the stentch of death. The group gets buffeted from all slides with the storm in a tea cup that is the Museum right now, but in the fang keeps going, in and in until it stops flapping around like a fish on land…. and the museum is filled with quiet.
Teagan will definitely have to make note of that later. ‘Evil books can always be stopped by proper application of venom.’ This is proof. And as the storm suddenly rages around them, Teagan ducks down under the reception desk and puts her hands over her head. Both to shut out some of the noise and to protect herself from getting knocked over the head with any stray debris. Once it passes and there is quiet again, she hesitates for a moment before slowly peeking her head up. “We good?”
Tessa splutters, hand going to her mouth, looking a bit green around the gills, given how close to Eric she had gotten. “Well that smells like rotten squid corpses and the shame I bring on my family name,” she coughs out, sleeve shielding her nose ineffectually.
Eric spits out a mouthful of goop, some horrid mix of ink, seawater, venom, and general debris. “Get Chamber of Secretsed, bitch,” he tells the limp book in his hands, letting it fall to the floor with a wet flop. Then he promptly pukes up a ridiculous amount of seawater all over it.
Matthew braces against the reception desk, wind and brin whipping into his hair. His jacket flairs up like some kind of cologne commercial at the world’s worst time. “When in doubt, putll a Potter, amirite?” the Montrose calls, trying to keep hold of Obadiah’s big fat book and the desk as best he can. When the storm dies down, he looks over at Eric, “Damn bro, you sure you didn’t get a Hogwarts letter?”
Tessa aggressively pats Eric with her free hand, looking ffor all the world like the pregnant nun might just join him in throwing up. But, attentive fiancee she is, she’s helping him get it all up and out.
Eric slumps against the wall, wiping at his mouth with one hand and reassuring Tessa with the other. “I, missed the train,” he weakly tells Matthew, then hiccups into an unsteady bout of laughter, snorting at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“I guess it wasn’t going to get that deep,” Obadiah says to Matthew as he helps Teagan to her feet, already collecting a few things that he might need to explain to the antiquities commission, or rather the Abigail Mercer Historical Preservation Foundation, why their rare book was now floating around in flotsam and jetsam. Once his pockets are approximately lined heads to the vending machine and kicks it just in the right place to stub his toe, if he wasn’t wearing steel-toed boots. “Come one, we did what we came here to do. The clean up crews will be here soon enough.”
Tessa helps Eric up, then she’s speedwalking away from him, and the stank, clearly perturbed, only to call out, “Better than Russia.”
When Eric begins laughing, Teagan follows suit in some halting giggles herself. Obadiah’s help to her feet is appreciated with a smile as she leans back against the desk, composing herself by smoothing clothing and hair back into place. “There is one problem,” she says as she gathers up her messenger bag. “We never got to unmask anyone.”
Eric limps after Tessa and Obadiah, suit completely ruined, dripping water everywhere. “They make this look so much easier on TV,” he grumbles. “It’s never an actual death ghost on TV.”
“Oh yeah, no, I don’t clean,” Matthew informs Obadiah like that’s news to anyone. He follows after and kicks the machine after the other half of Mega Blue, and a yoohoo comes out. “Oh hey, gang, who wants a yoohoo?”
“That’s all Oboe,” Tessa answers Matthew, the pallor about her more pronounced, despite her skills in hiding it. Seems being microwaved then all of this has taken its toll on her.
“I don’t want any form of liquid of any kind from this place,” Teagan says as she passes by Matthew and the vending machine. “And I still bet it’s expired.”
“Who has the time,” Obadiah says with a smirk to Matthew and looks around to see if anyone is calling dips on the fake chocco drink and seeing no one he holds out his hand, “I’ll take it, then let’s go. We are one mirror step away from our beds.”
Matthew tosses the yoohoo to Obadiah, “Yeah, let’s get outta here, I’m tired, and…” he stops and asks, “we’re good right, like this ghost ship gonna be handled and your Uncle happy and all that?”
nods to the group, “Should. Worst case we’ll be back or find new things to do.”
OOC: I’ll give everyone one last pose before I end the plot and take us home
Eric trudges along at Tessa’s side, supporting her the best he can, though he looks bedraggled and a little gren himself. “Lets just light the building on fire from outside next time,” he calls to the group, pleading.
Following along with the others, Teagan nods along about the tired part. “That’s the tiredest I’ve ever been after visiting a museum.”
“I’m always free to do whatever you need me for,” Tessa tells Obadiah, even if she’s very, very heavily leaning on Eric, one hand over her nose and mouth, one over her stomach, rubbing idly. “Ready to go back, shower…”