Encounterlogs
Larks Odd Encounter Sr Trevor 250117
In the serene Japanese-inspired garden of an apartment's backyard, Lark and her friends—Lilian, Malcolm, Benjamin, and Madeline—are wrapping up a tranquil evening at their private onsen. Their calm is shattered by an unexpected visitor, purportedly a normal citizen of Haven but in reality a member of The Black Flame cult. This man seeks Lark out with a proposition tied to her past dealings, requesting her assistance in locating a rare artifact hidden within a rumored haunted mansion on Haven's outskirts. The artifact, critical to a cult ritual, dangles the promise of settling old scores for Lark, tempting her with a clean slate from her murky past. Despite the group's initial skepticism and preparedness for confrontation, thanks to established protocols and strategic positioning, the conversation with the visitor unfolds with a tense undercurrent of ancient debts and ominous undertones.
As the night wears on, Lark reluctantly entertains the stranger’s proposition, negotiating terms for her cooperation—she demands a complete erasure of her past entanglements with the cult in exchange for her help. The visitor is non-committal but assures her of his intention to advocate for her demands. With Lark's acceptance, the mood shifts from wary defensiveness to a collective resolve among her friends to support her through this unforeseen venture. Benjamin and Madeline, prompted by Lilian, prepare for the daunting task ahead by fetching improvised tools like salt and possibly smudge sticks from Lilian's uniquely stocked kitchen, hinting at the group's readiness to face supernatural elements. The visitor's departure leaves Lark and her companions to ponder the eerie promise of future contact and the implications of their imminent journey into the heart of Haven's dark peripheries, signifying a deepening of their bond through shared peril.
(Lark's odd encounter(SRTrevor):SRTrevor)
[Thu Jan 16 2025]
In a small grassy yard below an apartment
The backyard, once a simple expanse of green grass, has been transformed into an unexpected oasis. At its heart lay an onsen, a sunken stone bath large enough for multiple people that shimmers with the promise of tranquility. Fed by spring water, the water of the onsen is a tranquil turquoise and steam rises from it's surface no matter the weather.
Around the onsen, a Japanese-inspired garden begins to unfold. Smooth, grey river rocks are carefully arranged to create a sense of movement and flow, mimicking the path of a stream. Moss-covered boulders, like ancient sentinels, punctuated the landscape, adding a touch of rugged beauty. As if to frame the scene, a Japanese maple tree, its branches bare in this winter time, stands as a sentinel, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
The sparring area has been preserved but at the side, in a large circle of perfectly mowed grass.
On every side of the garden, tall brick walls ensure privacy with vines grown over the brickwork to made a facade of nature.
From the maple tree and around the onsen, small lanterns hang, giving off a soft warm glow.
It is night, about 34F(1C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. Waist high mist flows through the area. There is a waning gibbous moon.
(Your target is approached by a seemingly normal citizen of Haven, who is in fact a member of The Black Flame cult. They are asked to assist in locating a rare artifact, a seemingly innocuous antique, believed to be hidden within an old, decrepit mansion on the outskirts of town. The mansion is rumored to be haunted. The artifact is critical to a ritual the cult intends to perform to hasten the arrival of the eldritch horrors.)
Lilian is just finishing getting dressed as they all gear up to go outside on their field trip.
Lark finishes dressing after toweling off at the onsen shower. She stands and looks around to Lilian, Malcolm, Benjamin, and Madeline. "Shopping time? Did anyone need to like go to the bank or something?"
Madeline has also just finished redressing, "I've just got my debit, are we going to need cash?"
"Alright, gang, everyone all dried off and about ready? 'cause I don't really wanna be out -too- late. Then again, not like the Market's got business hours," Malcolm reckons, adjusting the lay of his duty belt and suspenders after a spa session. "Like I said, the supernatural takes debit, you can use your cards. If anyone needs a spot, I'll loan 'em."
reaching into his coat breast pocket Benjamin produces a wad of twenties and then tucks it away, "We're good." he offers to Madeline
Benjamin manages a passable innocent look.
Madeline smiles at Benjamin, wrapping her arm around his waist as she waits for whatever the group decides to do next.
Malcolm nods his satisfaction, probably heading for the western door out into the alleyway to proceed on his way with the group, where his old beat-up farm truck's parked.
It's a good night in Haven, and the gang's all here, probably. Though, the rumours about whether or not someone throws a raging party is yet to be seen. And this doesn't seem much like a raging party tonight. No loud music, not a lot of alcohol. It's a typical sort of hangout, something about a shopping trip? It's one of those hangouts! Fun, chill, easy, laid back. Though, this is Haven, and a lot of hangouts are usually something else.
But no? It's quiet right. It's a Thursday night, surely nothing is going to be happening on a Thurs-
Suddenly there's a knocking that comes from inside. Loud, boisterous and anxious.
Well, that's normal right? For the rumored party place of Haven. It's probably just a friend coming in late, that's bound to be it.
The knocking ceases, and the yard goes quiet.
Thump. Thump. That knocking starts back up again.
It's a good night in Haven, and the gang's all here, probably. Though, the rumours about whether or not Lily throws a raging party is yet to be seen. And this doesn't seem much like a raging party tonight. No loud music, not a lot of alcohol. It's a typical sort of hangout, something about a shopping trip? It's one of those hangouts! Fun, chill, easy, laid back. Though, this is Haven, and a lot of hangouts are usually something else.
But no? It's quiet right. It's a Thursday night, surely nothing is going to be happening on a Thurs-
Suddenly there's a knocking that comes from inside. Loud, boisterous and anxious.
Well, that's normal right? For the rumored party place of Haven. It's probably just a friend coming in late, that's bound to be it.
The knocking ceases, and the yard goes quiet.
Thump. Thump. That knocking starts back up again.
Lark reaches down for her tote bag when the thumping starts. She turns her gaze over towards the door before flicking her eyes to Lilian and Malcolm. "Were you expecting someone else?" the redhead asks.
Madeline shrugs her shoulders, "Maybe it's Jules?"
Lilian eyes the door. "I don't know whose coming so..Put a hand on your weapons just incase its Lenny." The purple haired woman calls out as she stays where she is.There is a protocol for door opening in the onsen and everyone has been on high alert from full moons. Her chin nods once everyone . "Lark open it." She murmurs as slides her hand to her back where her dagger rests.
Lilian eyes the door. "I don't know whose coming so..Put a hand on your weapons just incase its Lenny." The purple haired woman calls out as she stays where she is.There is a protocol for door opening in the onsen and everyone has been on high alert from full moons. Her chin nods once everyone is ready . "Lark open it." She murmurs as slides her hand to her back where her dagger rests (sorry at work and on phone so pretty slow).
Benjamin has no weapon and so he withdraws a fuzzy slipper from the gym bag slung over his shoulder. What will that do, well it's very peculiar and it appears he's holding it as if ready to chuck it at someones head.
Apparently, this house has a protocol for knocking, because when the door gets a thump, the first thing Malcolm does is check his phone, and the second thing he does is look to Lilian expectantly. Despite already being at the door, hand outstretched for it, he defers to her, taking a half step back and letting her answer as she pleases.
Little bit of suspicion when the knocking continues, though, because Malcolm looks over to Lark and Madeline, figuring, "She's still off doing her thing." When Lilian gives her order, he shifts to flank the door, so that he'll be in the field of view when it opens.
Lark pulls her sword from her tote bag and walks cautiously over to the door, quickly swinging it open.
Madeline's weapons are in the trunk, so she just kind of moves out of the direct way of the door.
Lilian seems happy everyone follows protocol, her sapphire eyes glancing approvingly over at Malcolm as she eases her curved dagger into her hand and twirls it around.
Whoever is at the door, is definitely not whoever the group is thinking about. It seems to be a relatively normal looking man in fact. He's wearing a black trenchcoat, a pair of dress pants, and matching shoes. He seems pretty spiffy all things considered. A friendly face peeks his head in just a bit at the waiting group, bright blue eyes watching the postures, and the attitudes. "Ah!" he says, taking just a tiny step back from Lark at the door, who's got a sword to him. "Hello, would any of you happen to be.." the man shuffles around in his pocket a moment, taking out a slip of paper. "Miss Hall?" Blue eyes dart then, from each individual person, he seems a little bit wary, but clearly not all that wary, since he's just randomly knocking on doors at 10:30 at night, in Haven of all things.
All in all though, he seems perfectly normal, and perfectly well kempt. Maybe he's not a threat? Or maybe he is. It's really hard to tell, if only someone had a Scouter or something, to identify his power level. But alas, they don't exist!
The question doesn't seem to put Lark at ease. At all. Instead, it seems to have the opposite effect. With a look of suspicion, Lark asks the stranger: "You'll need to leave a message, she's not here right now." The sword is still in her hand as she watches the nicely dressed man.
Seeing that the man isn't the slime ball loosely named Lenny, Lilian's dagger disappears into her dress as she gets to her feet. Sapphire eyes sweep the spiffy looking man up and down as she makes her way to stand next to Malcolm, but instead of hugging him or grabbing an arm like usual, she lets her hands hang by her sides, keeping both their arms free for fighting.
Madeline arches an eyebrow at the stranger, "Isn't it a little late to be serving court papers?" She guesses.
Not too much to be wary about from Malcolm, dressed in traditional tan-and-green Sheriff garb and with his badge on his chest. Not unless that's something the fella should be concerned with, in which case the holster under an arm isn't a great sign, either. But unlike the others, he doesn't have his weapons pulled, and loiters by until Lark gives her response. "I'll pass along any warrant or summons you have, if that's the case," he offers the fellow professionally. Askance, past Lilian, he informs Madeline, "Process servers work odd hours. You gotta catch 'em."
"Our fledgling larp group was just showing off our licensed replicas." Benjamin offers to the seemingly normal and well dressed man looking for someone at 10:30 at night. "But hi." there's a wave of his fuzzy white slipper at him.
The man looks first to Madeline, addressing her with a singular nod. "Nope, no," he explains to her. "I'm not here to deliver court papers, Miss." His voice is smooth, like molasses. At that woman's comment answered he turns then to the Sheriff-looking fellow that is Malcolm. "Oh! Officer, apologies, I didn't even see you there." At someone' comment, the man raises an eyebrow - but the action looks unpracticed, and it comes off just a tad weird looking. Exhaling a bit of a breath, he sucks his teeth and continues. "No, no. I'm here on behalf of a mutual friend of ours, Miss Hall." The man locks his eyes with the sword-wielding-woman in front of him. "I think you might know who I am referring to? A Mr. Fitz." There's a bit less professionalism to him now, his lips curling into a bit of a grin. "I come with a proposition, in fact. One that..." the man stops, leaning in slightly towards Lark. "I think you're really going to want to listen to."
The man looks first to Madeline, addressing her with a singular nod. "Nope, no," he explains to her. "I'm not here to deliver court papers, Miss." His voice is smooth, like molasses. At that woman's comment answered he turns then to the Sheriff-looking fellow that is Malcolm. "Oh! Officer, apologies, I didn't even see you there." At Benji's comment, the man raises an eyebrow - but the action looks unpracticed, and it comes off just a tad weird looking. Exhaling a bit of a breath, he sucks his teeth and continues. "No, no. I'm here on behalf of a mutual friend of ours, Miss Hall." The man locks his eyes with the sword-wielding-woman in front of him. "I think you might know who I am referring to? A Mr. Fitz." There's a bit less professionalism to him now, his lips curling into a bit of a grin. "I come with a proposition, in fact. One that..." the man stops, leaning in slightly towards Lark. "I think you're really going to want to listen to."
Madeline looks at the man in black suspiciously, "That sounds just a bit too shady for my tastes."
"Not a process server? Whelp! Have a good night then, sir!" Lark puts her hand on the door, ready to close it. At the mention of a particular name though, Lark stops, her already pale features turning that much more pale. That is, before there's a sullen look that takes over her face. "I think you're mistaken. There's no Lark Hall here." Her voice is cold before she looks to the others in the onsen for backup.
Lilian takes a look at the way Lark looks back at them and she moves forward, slow, deadly, elegantly, every inch of her the predator that she is. Her eyes snag the man's, catching his in those bottomless sapphire pools. "Speak only the truth and tell us everything you know and then forget." She instructs softly as she holds the man's gaze. "Lark close the door."
Benjamin points the fuzzy slipper at Lark and says, "That's my sister Jasmine Fettes and I'm Benjamin Fettes." then he looks at the slipper and puts it away in the gym bag. Unfortunately with Lilian's voodoo sapphire eyes he lets out a quiet sigh just assuming the well dressed and mysterious man is entranced. "I was thinking of a whole backstory."
The phone in Malcolm's hand lasts about as long as Lark's skin pigment does, and when it becomes clear she'd like the gentleman to leave, it's back into his belt. Instead, he steps forward, adopting a classically rigid cop pose and stepping forward, before...
Nope. Lilian's probably got it. Malcolm gives a furtive look over the guy's shoulders toward the alleyway, ever cognizant of onlookers and potential breaches, before he walks back into the yard proper.
"Are you sure?" The man asks again, prodding her. His eyes are entirely locked on Lark's now, and whatever Lily is attempting doesn't even seem to phase the man, as he's refusing to break eye contact with Lark, apparently entirely locked in on this woman in front of him. Judging by the way he grins at her. "You are very sure there is no Miss Hall here?" He leans in, closer, his breath almost washing against Lark's face - and she'd be able to smell it. There's a fresh, minty smell to him.
Benjamin has a jaw drop as the well dressed man just keeps going and takes a couple of steps back and to the side to stand in front of Madeline.
Malcolm takes a bit more stiffness to his posture when it becomes clear to him that whatever Lilian was doing didn't take, pausing midstride and turning back around to consider the man from over Lark's shoulder. He still doesn't pull the service weapon at his shoulder, still doesn't... intercede at all. Yet.
Madeline, from behind Benjamin, "Maybe you should just go. We don't want any trouble."
As Lark attempts to slam the door in the man's face, she succeeds, partially. The door is whipped close, but the man puts his foot in it, stopping it from closing all the way. He seemed normal enough, but there's a strength behind him. Not crazy, but able to match Lark well enough, and avoid having his foot entirely just demolished. "Miss Hall," he says to her, in his low smooth voice. "This is how you treat your old friends?" A laugh escapes past his lips, ugly, mean. "Is this how you treat your new friends as well? You really, really don't want to hear his proposition for you? It's a good chance for you, you know. I promise." To Madeline, though, the man calls between the door, "I don't want any trouble either, I would just like to speak to Miss Hall, but she's being particularly difficult."
Lark frowns at realizing that the door won't shut with the man's foot in the way. "You're mistakent, I'm not whoever you're looking for. I'm, uh," Lark glances to Benjamin. "Jasmine Fetter. His cousin," A nod is given to Benjamin, despite having butchered most of the details. "So, you've really got the wrong person, but if you want to leave a message, I'm sure someone will get it to whoever this Lark Hall person is."
"She's my sister-cousin." Benjamin confirms the two variations of the lie.
Sapphire eyes narrow into slits when the man apparently resists her hypnotism. A feat few in Haven are probably able to, only the real monsters. It gives Lilian a suspicious expression on her face as she takes a step back to let Malcolm flex his copness. "Speak what you will and the miss hall will either hear it if shes here or not if shes not."
"Ah," the man says in regards to the very obvious lie, that Lark and Benji attempt to play out. His foot remains in the door, keeping it there but not really attempting to open it any further than what it is now. "Fine then," he admits a hint of irritation to his tone. Miss Fetter, is it?" he asks, clarifying for her. "I will leave my proposition here, from a mutual friend of ours." Clearing his throat a moment, he continues on. "If Miss Hall wants to help pay off what she owes, she can help find locate an artifact of great importance." He pauses then, "If you'd wish to please relay that message to her, I'm happy to wait for her response. It's.. important I discuss it with her tonight. But please, let her know, that if she keeps our friend waiting on a response, for too long. He's going to collect another way." "
Lark opens the door - not wide, but wide enough. "Everything?" she asks the man. "Clean slate? All of it?" There's an emphasis there in the clarification.
Cop mode: engaged.
Once the gentleman has given his statement and been assured he can speak, Malcolm steps forward, putting a hand on Lark's shoulder and speaking to the visitor through the gap. "I appreciate that, and I'll be sure to pass that along to her, if-and-when I see her next. Now, sir, this is a private domicile. I'm not on duty, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave, or I'll have to get on the horn with Deputy Bailey, and we can sort this out at the station."
With a flick of his gaze indicatively further down the alleyway, he reckons, "If you've got a legitimate complaint, you can call Three-One-One for non-emergency, or if you wanna find this Miss Hall, I suggest you search elsewhere. Maybe where she actually lives." Not that he's specifying that. "And I sure hope that isn't in violation of a restraining order, why you're knockin' up the wrong doors."
Or Malcolm gets cut off about six words into that by Lark, deferring to her. Coinflip, really.
Lilian tilts her head to the side when Lark opens the door further and she reaches a hand up to touch Malcolm's arm, maybe helping the coinflip as Lark suddenly seems more interested.
Lilian keeps her hand ontop of Malcolm's for the skin contact but she's more resting it against his, both their hands are still free and combat ready.
The man nods at Malcolm's words. "Of course, Mister Sheriff. If Miss Hall here," he says, gesturing to Lark. "And I know she is Miss Hall, but I do appreciate you all backing her up," the man scoffs, and then laughs a little bit. "Sister-cousin?" he asks, laughing at the thought. "That's a good one. You have some wonderful friends here, Miss Hall." He settles down now, clasping his hands behind his back. "Mr. Fitz," he begins talking to Lark. "is willing to be generous," he explains to her. "I think I could get him down to an entirely clean slate, should you wish to be more cooperative. Your friends can help as well, if they wish. But the offer is mostly to you, there's a mansion. Buried deep in the woods surrounding this town. It holds an important artifact that we're after." It's a peculiar choice of words, that, but he continues on. "If you're willing to go there, and as a warning, it's rumoured to be haunted. I could get you a meeting with Mr. Fitz, to discuss the situation you find yourself in."
Lark glances back at Benjamin, looking a bit embarrassed. Embarrassed and displeased. "I'll meet. But I want it to be a clean slate. Everything. No more surprise vists, ever. This gets done, you all leave me alone."
The offer's Lark's, not Malcolm's own, so he's quiet. The officer's eyes do pingpong between speakers, though, and briefly, over toward Madeline and Benjamin.
Benjamin peers at Lark and the mysterious man before murmuring to Madeline , "I suppose in a world with people who 'feed' on eachother I shoudn't be surprised or upset there's the proverbial loan shark."
Madeline peeking out from behind Benjamin, "Well, it kind of seems like the only way out of this is to find whatever it is he wants."
There's another slimy grin that creeps into the man's features, as he eyes Lark again. "Mmm," he muses thoughtfully in the back of his throat - clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth a few times, thinking, mulling. "I can't guarantee you anything at this point, Miss Hall," he admits after a short while. "But," he says, bringing one hand from behind his back and holding up a finger. "I promise to do my best to get him down to a clean slate. Especially, if you can succeed in this task."
Lark is still frowning, still looking rather sullen and displeased by it all, but she nods. There's that at least. "Alright then - what's your name?"
Seeing that Lark has things sorted, Lilian sighs as she looks over at Benjamin and Madeline, "Ben go fetch the salt from the kitchen." Given the talk of haunted mansions..
Benjamin nods to Lilian and reaches out for Madeline's wrist to go up the iron wrought stairs to find salt. If he recalls there is a giant bag of it in the kitchen.
Madeline follows Benjamin up to the kitchen, "Do we have any smudge sticks?" She asks, trying to think of anything else they might need.
Lilian totally left the second apartment door opened so those two can make their way up.
Lilian says "There'll be some in the kitchen"
"I think she's just going to cut my palm again." Benjamin says conversationally with his hand flexing a few times, "But we should find smudge sticks instead because... obviously."
Smudge sticks in the kitchen? Probably only Lilian's kitchen. "And you're damn Ben. Even with smudge sticks."
Malcolm finally breaks away from Lark and leans a bit to Lilian, figuring, "Might as well come to keep things off the radar. Case I'm needed." Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he checks it briefly, looks to Lark, and then looks to Benjamin and Maddie.
"My name is irrelevant," he tells Lark with a grin, and takes a small step back, away from the door, and away from the rest of the people. "You'll be contacted with more information at a later date, Miss Hall." Pausing in his step back, he waves to everyone, or to whoever can see him still that is. "I hope you all have a great, and wonderful night. We'll talk later, Miss Hall. I know where to find you." With all that said, the man turns on his heel, and stalks back the way he came, out into that store, and back out into Haven proper, leaving Lark at the door, and the gathered friends to enjoy the rest of their night.
Smudge sticks in the kitchen? Probably only Lilian's kitchen. "And you're damn right* Ben. Even with smudge sticks."
As the night wears on, Lark reluctantly entertains the stranger’s proposition, negotiating terms for her cooperation—she demands a complete erasure of her past entanglements with the cult in exchange for her help. The visitor is non-committal but assures her of his intention to advocate for her demands. With Lark's acceptance, the mood shifts from wary defensiveness to a collective resolve among her friends to support her through this unforeseen venture. Benjamin and Madeline, prompted by Lilian, prepare for the daunting task ahead by fetching improvised tools like salt and possibly smudge sticks from Lilian's uniquely stocked kitchen, hinting at the group's readiness to face supernatural elements. The visitor's departure leaves Lark and her companions to ponder the eerie promise of future contact and the implications of their imminent journey into the heart of Haven's dark peripheries, signifying a deepening of their bond through shared peril.
(Lark's odd encounter(SRTrevor):SRTrevor)
[Thu Jan 16 2025]
In a small grassy yard below an apartment
The backyard, once a simple expanse of green grass, has been transformed into an unexpected oasis. At its heart lay an onsen, a sunken stone bath large enough for multiple people that shimmers with the promise of tranquility. Fed by spring water, the water of the onsen is a tranquil turquoise and steam rises from it's surface no matter the weather.
Around the onsen, a Japanese-inspired garden begins to unfold. Smooth, grey river rocks are carefully arranged to create a sense of movement and flow, mimicking the path of a stream. Moss-covered boulders, like ancient sentinels, punctuated the landscape, adding a touch of rugged beauty. As if to frame the scene, a Japanese maple tree, its branches bare in this winter time, stands as a sentinel, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
The sparring area has been preserved but at the side, in a large circle of perfectly mowed grass.
On every side of the garden, tall brick walls ensure privacy with vines grown over the brickwork to made a facade of nature.
From the maple tree and around the onsen, small lanterns hang, giving off a soft warm glow.
It is night, about 34F(1C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. Waist high mist flows through the area. There is a waning gibbous moon.
(Your target is approached by a seemingly normal citizen of Haven, who is in fact a member of The Black Flame cult. They are asked to assist in locating a rare artifact, a seemingly innocuous antique, believed to be hidden within an old, decrepit mansion on the outskirts of town. The mansion is rumored to be haunted. The artifact is critical to a ritual the cult intends to perform to hasten the arrival of the eldritch horrors.)
Lilian is just finishing getting dressed as they all gear up to go outside on their field trip.
Lark finishes dressing after toweling off at the onsen shower. She stands and looks around to Lilian, Malcolm, Benjamin, and Madeline. "Shopping time? Did anyone need to like go to the bank or something?"
Madeline has also just finished redressing, "I've just got my debit, are we going to need cash?"
"Alright, gang, everyone all dried off and about ready? 'cause I don't really wanna be out -too- late. Then again, not like the Market's got business hours," Malcolm reckons, adjusting the lay of his duty belt and suspenders after a spa session. "Like I said, the supernatural takes debit, you can use your cards. If anyone needs a spot, I'll loan 'em."
reaching into his coat breast pocket Benjamin produces a wad of twenties and then tucks it away, "We're good." he offers to Madeline
Benjamin manages a passable innocent look.
Madeline smiles at Benjamin, wrapping her arm around his waist as she waits for whatever the group decides to do next.
Malcolm nods his satisfaction, probably heading for the western door out into the alleyway to proceed on his way with the group, where his old beat-up farm truck's parked.
It's a good night in Haven, and the gang's all here, probably. Though, the rumours about whether or not someone throws a raging party is yet to be seen. And this doesn't seem much like a raging party tonight. No loud music, not a lot of alcohol. It's a typical sort of hangout, something about a shopping trip? It's one of those hangouts! Fun, chill, easy, laid back. Though, this is Haven, and a lot of hangouts are usually something else.
But no? It's quiet right. It's a Thursday night, surely nothing is going to be happening on a Thurs-
Suddenly there's a knocking that comes from inside. Loud, boisterous and anxious.
Well, that's normal right? For the rumored party place of Haven. It's probably just a friend coming in late, that's bound to be it.
The knocking ceases, and the yard goes quiet.
Thump. Thump. That knocking starts back up again.
It's a good night in Haven, and the gang's all here, probably. Though, the rumours about whether or not Lily throws a raging party is yet to be seen. And this doesn't seem much like a raging party tonight. No loud music, not a lot of alcohol. It's a typical sort of hangout, something about a shopping trip? It's one of those hangouts! Fun, chill, easy, laid back. Though, this is Haven, and a lot of hangouts are usually something else.
But no? It's quiet right. It's a Thursday night, surely nothing is going to be happening on a Thurs-
Suddenly there's a knocking that comes from inside. Loud, boisterous and anxious.
Well, that's normal right? For the rumored party place of Haven. It's probably just a friend coming in late, that's bound to be it.
The knocking ceases, and the yard goes quiet.
Thump. Thump. That knocking starts back up again.
Lark reaches down for her tote bag when the thumping starts. She turns her gaze over towards the door before flicking her eyes to Lilian and Malcolm. "Were you expecting someone else?" the redhead asks.
Madeline shrugs her shoulders, "Maybe it's Jules?"
Lilian eyes the door. "I don't know whose coming so..Put a hand on your weapons just incase its Lenny." The purple haired woman calls out as she stays where she is.There is a protocol for door opening in the onsen and everyone has been on high alert from full moons. Her chin nods once everyone . "Lark open it." She murmurs as slides her hand to her back where her dagger rests.
Lilian eyes the door. "I don't know whose coming so..Put a hand on your weapons just incase its Lenny." The purple haired woman calls out as she stays where she is.There is a protocol for door opening in the onsen and everyone has been on high alert from full moons. Her chin nods once everyone is ready . "Lark open it." She murmurs as slides her hand to her back where her dagger rests (sorry at work and on phone so pretty slow).
Benjamin has no weapon and so he withdraws a fuzzy slipper from the gym bag slung over his shoulder. What will that do, well it's very peculiar and it appears he's holding it as if ready to chuck it at someones head.
Apparently, this house has a protocol for knocking, because when the door gets a thump, the first thing Malcolm does is check his phone, and the second thing he does is look to Lilian expectantly. Despite already being at the door, hand outstretched for it, he defers to her, taking a half step back and letting her answer as she pleases.
Little bit of suspicion when the knocking continues, though, because Malcolm looks over to Lark and Madeline, figuring, "She's still off doing her thing." When Lilian gives her order, he shifts to flank the door, so that he'll be in the field of view when it opens.
Lark pulls her sword from her tote bag and walks cautiously over to the door, quickly swinging it open.
Madeline's weapons are in the trunk, so she just kind of moves out of the direct way of the door.
Lilian seems happy everyone follows protocol, her sapphire eyes glancing approvingly over at Malcolm as she eases her curved dagger into her hand and twirls it around.
Whoever is at the door, is definitely not whoever the group is thinking about. It seems to be a relatively normal looking man in fact. He's wearing a black trenchcoat, a pair of dress pants, and matching shoes. He seems pretty spiffy all things considered. A friendly face peeks his head in just a bit at the waiting group, bright blue eyes watching the postures, and the attitudes. "Ah!" he says, taking just a tiny step back from Lark at the door, who's got a sword to him. "Hello, would any of you happen to be.." the man shuffles around in his pocket a moment, taking out a slip of paper. "Miss Hall?" Blue eyes dart then, from each individual person, he seems a little bit wary, but clearly not all that wary, since he's just randomly knocking on doors at 10:30 at night, in Haven of all things.
All in all though, he seems perfectly normal, and perfectly well kempt. Maybe he's not a threat? Or maybe he is. It's really hard to tell, if only someone had a Scouter or something, to identify his power level. But alas, they don't exist!
The question doesn't seem to put Lark at ease. At all. Instead, it seems to have the opposite effect. With a look of suspicion, Lark asks the stranger: "You'll need to leave a message, she's not here right now." The sword is still in her hand as she watches the nicely dressed man.
Seeing that the man isn't the slime ball loosely named Lenny, Lilian's dagger disappears into her dress as she gets to her feet. Sapphire eyes sweep the spiffy looking man up and down as she makes her way to stand next to Malcolm, but instead of hugging him or grabbing an arm like usual, she lets her hands hang by her sides, keeping both their arms free for fighting.
Madeline arches an eyebrow at the stranger, "Isn't it a little late to be serving court papers?" She guesses.
Not too much to be wary about from Malcolm, dressed in traditional tan-and-green Sheriff garb and with his badge on his chest. Not unless that's something the fella should be concerned with, in which case the holster under an arm isn't a great sign, either. But unlike the others, he doesn't have his weapons pulled, and loiters by until Lark gives her response. "I'll pass along any warrant or summons you have, if that's the case," he offers the fellow professionally. Askance, past Lilian, he informs Madeline, "Process servers work odd hours. You gotta catch 'em."
"Our fledgling larp group was just showing off our licensed replicas." Benjamin offers to the seemingly normal and well dressed man looking for someone at 10:30 at night. "But hi." there's a wave of his fuzzy white slipper at him.
The man looks first to Madeline, addressing her with a singular nod. "Nope, no," he explains to her. "I'm not here to deliver court papers, Miss." His voice is smooth, like molasses. At that woman's comment answered he turns then to the Sheriff-looking fellow that is Malcolm. "Oh! Officer, apologies, I didn't even see you there." At someone' comment, the man raises an eyebrow - but the action looks unpracticed, and it comes off just a tad weird looking. Exhaling a bit of a breath, he sucks his teeth and continues. "No, no. I'm here on behalf of a mutual friend of ours, Miss Hall." The man locks his eyes with the sword-wielding-woman in front of him. "I think you might know who I am referring to? A Mr. Fitz." There's a bit less professionalism to him now, his lips curling into a bit of a grin. "I come with a proposition, in fact. One that..." the man stops, leaning in slightly towards Lark. "I think you're really going to want to listen to."
The man looks first to Madeline, addressing her with a singular nod. "Nope, no," he explains to her. "I'm not here to deliver court papers, Miss." His voice is smooth, like molasses. At that woman's comment answered he turns then to the Sheriff-looking fellow that is Malcolm. "Oh! Officer, apologies, I didn't even see you there." At Benji's comment, the man raises an eyebrow - but the action looks unpracticed, and it comes off just a tad weird looking. Exhaling a bit of a breath, he sucks his teeth and continues. "No, no. I'm here on behalf of a mutual friend of ours, Miss Hall." The man locks his eyes with the sword-wielding-woman in front of him. "I think you might know who I am referring to? A Mr. Fitz." There's a bit less professionalism to him now, his lips curling into a bit of a grin. "I come with a proposition, in fact. One that..." the man stops, leaning in slightly towards Lark. "I think you're really going to want to listen to."
Madeline looks at the man in black suspiciously, "That sounds just a bit too shady for my tastes."
"Not a process server? Whelp! Have a good night then, sir!" Lark puts her hand on the door, ready to close it. At the mention of a particular name though, Lark stops, her already pale features turning that much more pale. That is, before there's a sullen look that takes over her face. "I think you're mistaken. There's no Lark Hall here." Her voice is cold before she looks to the others in the onsen for backup.
Lilian takes a look at the way Lark looks back at them and she moves forward, slow, deadly, elegantly, every inch of her the predator that she is. Her eyes snag the man's, catching his in those bottomless sapphire pools. "Speak only the truth and tell us everything you know and then forget." She instructs softly as she holds the man's gaze. "Lark close the door."
Benjamin points the fuzzy slipper at Lark and says, "That's my sister Jasmine Fettes and I'm Benjamin Fettes." then he looks at the slipper and puts it away in the gym bag. Unfortunately with Lilian's voodoo sapphire eyes he lets out a quiet sigh just assuming the well dressed and mysterious man is entranced. "I was thinking of a whole backstory."
The phone in Malcolm's hand lasts about as long as Lark's skin pigment does, and when it becomes clear she'd like the gentleman to leave, it's back into his belt. Instead, he steps forward, adopting a classically rigid cop pose and stepping forward, before...
Nope. Lilian's probably got it. Malcolm gives a furtive look over the guy's shoulders toward the alleyway, ever cognizant of onlookers and potential breaches, before he walks back into the yard proper.
"Are you sure?" The man asks again, prodding her. His eyes are entirely locked on Lark's now, and whatever Lily is attempting doesn't even seem to phase the man, as he's refusing to break eye contact with Lark, apparently entirely locked in on this woman in front of him. Judging by the way he grins at her. "You are very sure there is no Miss Hall here?" He leans in, closer, his breath almost washing against Lark's face - and she'd be able to smell it. There's a fresh, minty smell to him.
Benjamin has a jaw drop as the well dressed man just keeps going and takes a couple of steps back and to the side to stand in front of Madeline.
Malcolm takes a bit more stiffness to his posture when it becomes clear to him that whatever Lilian was doing didn't take, pausing midstride and turning back around to consider the man from over Lark's shoulder. He still doesn't pull the service weapon at his shoulder, still doesn't... intercede at all. Yet.
Madeline, from behind Benjamin, "Maybe you should just go. We don't want any trouble."
As Lark attempts to slam the door in the man's face, she succeeds, partially. The door is whipped close, but the man puts his foot in it, stopping it from closing all the way. He seemed normal enough, but there's a strength behind him. Not crazy, but able to match Lark well enough, and avoid having his foot entirely just demolished. "Miss Hall," he says to her, in his low smooth voice. "This is how you treat your old friends?" A laugh escapes past his lips, ugly, mean. "Is this how you treat your new friends as well? You really, really don't want to hear his proposition for you? It's a good chance for you, you know. I promise." To Madeline, though, the man calls between the door, "I don't want any trouble either, I would just like to speak to Miss Hall, but she's being particularly difficult."
Lark frowns at realizing that the door won't shut with the man's foot in the way. "You're mistakent, I'm not whoever you're looking for. I'm, uh," Lark glances to Benjamin. "Jasmine Fetter. His cousin," A nod is given to Benjamin, despite having butchered most of the details. "So, you've really got the wrong person, but if you want to leave a message, I'm sure someone will get it to whoever this Lark Hall person is."
"She's my sister-cousin." Benjamin confirms the two variations of the lie.
Sapphire eyes narrow into slits when the man apparently resists her hypnotism. A feat few in Haven are probably able to, only the real monsters. It gives Lilian a suspicious expression on her face as she takes a step back to let Malcolm flex his copness. "Speak what you will and the miss hall will either hear it if shes here or not if shes not."
"Ah," the man says in regards to the very obvious lie, that Lark and Benji attempt to play out. His foot remains in the door, keeping it there but not really attempting to open it any further than what it is now. "Fine then," he admits a hint of irritation to his tone. Miss Fetter, is it?" he asks, clarifying for her. "I will leave my proposition here, from a mutual friend of ours." Clearing his throat a moment, he continues on. "If Miss Hall wants to help pay off what she owes, she can help find locate an artifact of great importance." He pauses then, "If you'd wish to please relay that message to her, I'm happy to wait for her response. It's.. important I discuss it with her tonight. But please, let her know, that if she keeps our friend waiting on a response, for too long. He's going to collect another way." "
Lark opens the door - not wide, but wide enough. "Everything?" she asks the man. "Clean slate? All of it?" There's an emphasis there in the clarification.
Cop mode: engaged.
Once the gentleman has given his statement and been assured he can speak, Malcolm steps forward, putting a hand on Lark's shoulder and speaking to the visitor through the gap. "I appreciate that, and I'll be sure to pass that along to her, if-and-when I see her next. Now, sir, this is a private domicile. I'm not on duty, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave, or I'll have to get on the horn with Deputy Bailey, and we can sort this out at the station."
With a flick of his gaze indicatively further down the alleyway, he reckons, "If you've got a legitimate complaint, you can call Three-One-One for non-emergency, or if you wanna find this Miss Hall, I suggest you search elsewhere. Maybe where she actually lives." Not that he's specifying that. "And I sure hope that isn't in violation of a restraining order, why you're knockin' up the wrong doors."
Or Malcolm gets cut off about six words into that by Lark, deferring to her. Coinflip, really.
Lilian tilts her head to the side when Lark opens the door further and she reaches a hand up to touch Malcolm's arm, maybe helping the coinflip as Lark suddenly seems more interested.
Lilian keeps her hand ontop of Malcolm's for the skin contact but she's more resting it against his, both their hands are still free and combat ready.
The man nods at Malcolm's words. "Of course, Mister Sheriff. If Miss Hall here," he says, gesturing to Lark. "And I know she is Miss Hall, but I do appreciate you all backing her up," the man scoffs, and then laughs a little bit. "Sister-cousin?" he asks, laughing at the thought. "That's a good one. You have some wonderful friends here, Miss Hall." He settles down now, clasping his hands behind his back. "Mr. Fitz," he begins talking to Lark. "is willing to be generous," he explains to her. "I think I could get him down to an entirely clean slate, should you wish to be more cooperative. Your friends can help as well, if they wish. But the offer is mostly to you, there's a mansion. Buried deep in the woods surrounding this town. It holds an important artifact that we're after." It's a peculiar choice of words, that, but he continues on. "If you're willing to go there, and as a warning, it's rumoured to be haunted. I could get you a meeting with Mr. Fitz, to discuss the situation you find yourself in."
Lark glances back at Benjamin, looking a bit embarrassed. Embarrassed and displeased. "I'll meet. But I want it to be a clean slate. Everything. No more surprise vists, ever. This gets done, you all leave me alone."
The offer's Lark's, not Malcolm's own, so he's quiet. The officer's eyes do pingpong between speakers, though, and briefly, over toward Madeline and Benjamin.
Benjamin peers at Lark and the mysterious man before murmuring to Madeline , "I suppose in a world with people who 'feed' on eachother I shoudn't be surprised or upset there's the proverbial loan shark."
Madeline peeking out from behind Benjamin, "Well, it kind of seems like the only way out of this is to find whatever it is he wants."
There's another slimy grin that creeps into the man's features, as he eyes Lark again. "Mmm," he muses thoughtfully in the back of his throat - clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth a few times, thinking, mulling. "I can't guarantee you anything at this point, Miss Hall," he admits after a short while. "But," he says, bringing one hand from behind his back and holding up a finger. "I promise to do my best to get him down to a clean slate. Especially, if you can succeed in this task."
Lark is still frowning, still looking rather sullen and displeased by it all, but she nods. There's that at least. "Alright then - what's your name?"
Seeing that Lark has things sorted, Lilian sighs as she looks over at Benjamin and Madeline, "Ben go fetch the salt from the kitchen." Given the talk of haunted mansions..
Benjamin nods to Lilian and reaches out for Madeline's wrist to go up the iron wrought stairs to find salt. If he recalls there is a giant bag of it in the kitchen.
Madeline follows Benjamin up to the kitchen, "Do we have any smudge sticks?" She asks, trying to think of anything else they might need.
Lilian totally left the second apartment door opened so those two can make their way up.
Lilian says "There'll be some in the kitchen"
"I think she's just going to cut my palm again." Benjamin says conversationally with his hand flexing a few times, "But we should find smudge sticks instead because... obviously."
Smudge sticks in the kitchen? Probably only Lilian's kitchen. "And you're damn Ben. Even with smudge sticks."
Malcolm finally breaks away from Lark and leans a bit to Lilian, figuring, "Might as well come to keep things off the radar. Case I'm needed." Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he checks it briefly, looks to Lark, and then looks to Benjamin and Maddie.
"My name is irrelevant," he tells Lark with a grin, and takes a small step back, away from the door, and away from the rest of the people. "You'll be contacted with more information at a later date, Miss Hall." Pausing in his step back, he waves to everyone, or to whoever can see him still that is. "I hope you all have a great, and wonderful night. We'll talk later, Miss Hall. I know where to find you." With all that said, the man turns on his heel, and stalks back the way he came, out into that store, and back out into Haven proper, leaving Lark at the door, and the gathered friends to enjoy the rest of their night.
Smudge sticks in the kitchen? Probably only Lilian's kitchen. "And you're damn right* Ben. Even with smudge sticks."