Encounterlogs
Laurens Odd Encounter Sr Trevor 240516
Lauren's nocturnal escapades in Haven lead her to a peculiar bar, brimming with a lively crowd despite the late hour. Inside, she encounters an oddly tight-laced man who claims to be a regular, drowning his sorrows in drink for reasons he's loathe to dwell on, only revealing that he sells knives for a living. The atmosphere takes an uncanny turn as shadows on the wall begin to animate, detaching from their owners to enact a silent drama. Lauren, initially bemused, watches as the shadows reenact a scene of betrayal and murder, involving shadowy figures that seem to possess distinct personalities and even hierarchy among themselves. One shadow, appearing as a mastermind behind the sinister pantomime, is presented with a necklace by another, suggesting a narrative of theft and subjugation among these ethereal beings. The performance culminates in the depiction of a building similar to the bar, insinuating a connection between the shadow play and their current setting.
As the shadow play unfolds, the bar erupts into chaos because of a fire that has seemingly broken out in the basement, a detail that puzzles Lauren, considering the building's exterior suggested no such space. Amidst the burgeoning panic and the throng of patrons making for the exits, Lauren decides to abandon the night's intrigues for breakfast, uninterested in delving deeper into the cryptic events that have overtaken her attempt at leisure. However, just as she leaves, she briefly encounters a bald, young man, who, in his haste, drops a shiny necklace into his briefcase before disappearing into the fading night. This fleeting interaction leaves Lauren with more questions than answers about the night's events, suggesting ties to the shadow performance she had just witnessed but ultimately, she chooses to leave the mystery unsolved, stepping back into the comfort of the known world.
(Lauren's odd encounter(SRTrevor):SRTrevor)
[Wed May 15 2024]
On Fairway Drive
This road is paved, its smooth surface a stark contrast to the rugged beauty
of the surrounding forest. The asphalt stretches out before the traveler, a
ribbon of black cutting through the lush green of the trees. The road is
lined with towering oaks and maples, their branches reaching out over the
pavement, creating a canopy of dappled sunlight. In the fall, the leaves turn
a brilliant array of reds, oranges, and yellows, creating a stunning display
of color that is breathtaking to behold. The road is narrow, with gentle
curves that follow the natural contours of the land. It rises and falls with
the hills, offering glimpses of the surrounding countryside through breaks in
the trees. To the east, the road leads to Haven, its buildings and houses
visible in the distance. To the west, the road continues on towards Fairfax
Manor, the impressive stone structure with towering North and South wings
slowly coming into view as one approaches.
It is night, about 69F(20C) degrees, There is a first quarter moon.
(The characters are enjoying a quiet evening at a local pub when suddenly, the patrons' shadows start behaving oddly. The shadows detach themselves from their owners and begin a sinister pantomime. They reenact a century-old crime that occurred in Haven, involving a powerful demon, a betrayal, and a stolen artifact. The shadows don't harm anyone but refuse to return to their owners. The characters must solve the mystery of the old crime to free the pub-goers from their shadowless state.)
Lauren is recently-woken, freshly-showered, and in her car, just driving around for the time being while she tries to figure out where to spend this night/morning. Haven's nightlife does leave a little something to be desired, unfortunately, and she's watching buildings roll past slowly, her window with an arm folded over it while she drives one-handedly.
As the recently-woken, and freshly-showered Lauren drives through the streets of Haven, she'll hear the hustle and bustle of the nightlife.
It's a warm night, not too hot, not too cold. The moon's out, not much of a cloud cover in the way.
Lauren's a yapper, a talker. Something's gotta set keep her going, and for Lauren that seems to be talking.
And there it is, the perfect opportunity. The thump of music, the sounds of laughter, and of raucous cheering comes from some bar. Seems like one Lauren's never been to. The perfect opportunity to find some new people to inflict with her incredible conversational skills.
Lauren pulls up, rolling her window up and parks on the side of street. It's a decent enough job, not perfectly straight. Of course this place doesn't have a valet service, why would it? Cheap. That's why.
The closer she gets to the door, the louder the music, the pulse of it all. The doors open, and it's a talker's paradise. Full, packed with people. The music will be a hindrance, but Lauren will surely find a way to get that all the words out. Even if it means half-yelling at them.
Three in the morning on a weekday night, and a placed packed full of people? It sounds too good to be true, but far be it for Lauren to refrain from checking out a new place - and here she thought she'd re-seen all that Haven had to offer after her return, too. There's a little pat to the hood of her car after she climbs out - 'stay safe, Betty' - and she's pushing the door open to see what they've got in store for her.
A beeline for the bar, first of all. Lauren finds herself a seat at one of the unoccupied stool, looking around for a second for any interesting individuals she may or may not be familiar with until she's got the bartender's attention. "Heya! I'll have a gin and tonic, please." All her manners and everything - always gotta be nice to the bartenders. Then she glances over to the nearest person at the bar from her, passing them to twiddling of her fingers in a casual, introductory little wave.
The bartenders are slammed tonight, and the poor young woman behind the bar looks to be having a little bit of a rough time at it. She looks to be new. The woman has got long, black hair that's currently tied up in a ponytail - the scrunchie holding the ponytail in place has got a nice, bright floral pattern. Piercing green eyes peer over at Lauren, and the woman offers her an apologetic smile. "I'll be with you in a moment!" she squeaks out, some burly man shouting about a Jack and Coke at the other end.
A man in his forties is the recipient of that twiddling wave. Bald, with glasses that don't sit right on his crooked nose. The vibe in this place, does not match the energy this man is giving off. Everything about him screams tight, like he doesn't belong here. But, for whatever reason, here he is. In one hand, he's nursing a pint of some alcoholic beverage. The man looks over to Lauren, as he catches the wave with a corner of his eye. "Hey there," he's got some sort of accent, it's hard to place, but it could be from a Slavic country. The man starts up - eyes inspecting Lauren in a curious gaze. "I come in here every night, and I've never seen you in here. How are you?" It's oddly aggressive, for the earlier friendly start.
That bartender comes back now, placing the gin and tonic in front of Lauren, "You wanna start a tab, Miss? Or pay as you go type deal?"
"Every night? You wanna get some help for that alcoholism problem, buddy?" Lauren could use some tact, just as much as baldie over there may use some intervention. Her attention is immediately caught again by the bartender, who earns herself a flash of a smile from the blonde, pleased. "Thanks! And, uhhh, I wasn't planning on getting wasted tonight, but we can do a tab anyway." She slides her ID over, letting the woman deal with it while she takes a much-needed sip of her drink.
"Oh, I'm good," comes the reply, far too late, to the question asked earlier. "I usually just hang out at the Succubus when I need a drink, 'cause the owner's a friend of mine, but I thought I'd try out something new, y'know? Didn't expect this place to be so crowded this late on a weekday - is there some sort of a special deal or something going on?"
"I work a tough job, I need to drink to keep myself contained," Baldie doesn't really seem to want to divulge more than that. He is tense, and the tactless comment from Lauren only seems to pull him tighter. The bartender inspects Lauren's ID carefully. You always gotta check. Can never know these days. It seems to checkout and off she goes to a little POS system behind her to input some information.
"Not really a special, but, I think," the man waves a hand gesturing vaguely. It looks like there's a few people in some hockey jerseys. Ah, the NHL playoffs. "A team won last night." Of course a team won, someone has to win. At least he gave up a little bit of an answer.
The far wall behind the bar where Lauren is sitting is completely blank, except for a few light fixtures there. A moment goes by and the lights seem to flicker. Off. On. From the looks of it, it seems a shadow is being pulled directly towards that wall. The shadow of one of the nearby patrons. It's as if it's being peeled from them, and pasted directly onto the wall like a sticker.
"Ahuh..." Lauren is half-listening, half-not really - it's hard to really want to get to know a guy after he's told you he needs to drink to keep himself 'contained' after a tough job. "I think alcohol does like the opposite of that, generally. Lowers inhibitions and shit, all that, but I'm sure you know given your, uh, robust experience with the stuff. What do you work as anyway?" Hopefully not with kids. Please, God, let it not be with kids.
Lauren takes another sip, downing her drink maybe faster than she'd originally intended - how rude would it be to walk over to the far end of the bar away from the guy, anyway? She probably shouldn't while the bartender's still dealing with her, right? She stares, waiting. The flicker of lights doesn't get her attention, but the shadow on the wall does, a slow blink of her eyes. "Cool trick," she mumbles under her breath, too low for the other guy to hear. Or for anyone to hear, hopefully. "I can do that too." And hey, look, she can. Bam, there's another shadow upon the wall.
The bartender returns now, "Here you go, Miss!" it's a little cheerier than her earlier squeak. Maybe it's because Lauren hasn't been rude to her. The man frowns at Lauren after the comment, "I sell knives." He doesn't seem to have anything on him at the moment, but that can't be the reason he's drowning his sorrows night after night. He might just be really bad at it. But anyway, that's all he offers up at the moment, taking a long sip of the drink he was nursing earlier.
That first shadow notices Lauren's shadow, and weirdly it seems to be aggressive. It stalks across the length of the wall - a fist raised, and it begins to shout. There's no actual words, nothing is being said, but from the way it moves, and the way it gesticulates, it seems pretty clear it's shouting at Lauren's. The original shadow - which will be refered to as the First, has a form to it. It's big, much bigger than the patron it got stolen off of. Broad shoulders, and it's wearing a hat, a nineteen twenties era fedora.
"Thanks!" Lauren returns again, equally as cheerily if not more, to the bartender, slipping her card back away to safety. Baldie near her gets a suspicious side-eye right after, like she's trying to figure out whether he's planning on stabbing her anytime soon. Maybe she shouldn't have accused him of alcoholism? Too late for regrets now anyway, may as well double down. "Ahh, sales, I feel you," she nods over to the man with put-on sympathy, a nail clicking against her glass before she takes another sip. "Maybe you should transition over to something else, if annoying customers are sucking your life away. I dunno, like... marketing."
Idly, she's watching the shadows upon the wall out the corner of her eye. Her eyebrows arch as the first shadow comes over yelling at hers, but, well, she can amuse what she assumes to be a fellow illusionist - nothing worse than people who just don't play along when she's putting in effort, right? The second shadow covers at her command, shrinking in on itself and trembling until it's barely a blob, frightened by being yelled at by the fedora guy - who wouldn't be, really?
At Lauren's thanks, the bartender turns away going to help some other cutomers. "Bah!" Baldie sputters out, almost choking on his drink. "Marketing!? Never," he downs the drink, picks up the briefcase from under his stool and stalks away to a different corner of the bar. Away from Lauren. A little bit of an overreaction from the man there, he must REALLY, REALLY hate marketing for some reason. Oh well. He's gone now.
the First continues to berate and yell, even after the second one is a blob. But now, there's a twist. Snaking up from another patron, stealing their shadow comes a third shadow, then, shortly after, a fourth. That third one begins to yell, mainly at the First and, it spins, turning to scream back at the third. The fourth seems to be the most reasonable of the bunch, it's off to a side of the wall, arms crossed over its chest, and it's just patient, waiting, listening.
Out of nowhere, the third reaches below itself, and pulls out, what looks to be a knife. With no hesitation, no remorse it brutally stabs the first - murdering it in cold blood.
There's a cheeky little grin on Lauren's face when the marketing-hating man strides off - not quite the reaction she'd expected, but she'll take it all the same, thank you. And then there's a low whistle escaping her at the show on the wall in front of her, morbidly amused. "Don't gotta go that far for poor Shadie there," she mumbles under her breath, referring to the shadow she's illusioned into being, but she's watching anyway to see how this plays out - isn't like the people around are very good conversationalists, considering how her try with Bald Guy had turned out. "Deserved? Maybe? Maybe not?" comes another little mumble, the woman deep in thought while she taps her fingernails idly upon the surface of the bar. With a flick of her fingers, she goes to dissipate her own shadow then, turning it from a cowering blob to an indistinct haze and then nothing at all, her mind made up: "All's fair in love and war. I getcha, shadow dude."
Shadow four and shadow three are left now - with the First's lifeless body growing colder and colder by the minute. Shadow four, the patient one, they would seem to be the mastermind behind whatever just happened here - judging by the way the third seemingly revers the fourth, always turning around, glancing over its shoulder to gauge it's reaction. The murder of the First made the third extra excitable - it's shadowy mouth moving quickly.
There's a single nod from the fourth towards the third, and it slides across the wall, seemingly looting the First. A moment or so later it comes up, holding up, what looks to be very a necklace of some sort. The details aren't clear, considering it's a shadow-y recreation of it, but the shape and size looks just necklace size. The third strolls over to the fourth and drops to one shadowy knee, offering it up to.. its lord? It's master. That seems to be the relationship between these creatures.
The wall changes now, more and more shadows being pulled from the patrons. They shift, and swirl around across the wall in some dizzying display.
Beat.
The wall now is covered in shadow, and it seems to resemble a building. An astute observer would notice that it looks similiar to the one Lauren is in now. Perhaps, an indication of more information.
"Kinda fucked up..." Lauren murmurs to herself, her cheek propped up on her hand while she leans against the bar, blinking slowly. She lifts her glass up to go take a sip from it, and then sighs when it comes up empty. "Puppet shows are supposed to be fun, dammit." comes the grumble to herself - hopefully nobody's watching her talk to herself like a crazy person - and then she's pushing up and away from the bar. "I'm headin' out, gonna go get breakfast instead 'cause some fuck had to go making things too heavy when I'm tryna relax. Goddamn, read the room dude." she calls out to the bartender with a little wave, half of that definitely not meant for the woman behind the bar. If there was supposed to be a clue to real dealings, it seems to have gotten way far above her head - as far as Lauren's concerned, it was just a fun little tryst between illusionists, until it became not-so-fun, which, hey, is maybe a reoccurring thing in this town. Still, fun over, so off she goes, back out to her car.
As Lauren makes to leave there's a commotion. A much louder commotion the the bar itself. There's a group of people huddled near the staircase to the basment. Odd. The building didn't look like it had a basement on the outside.
Smoke is billowing up the stairs. People are beginning to panic, a fire started in the basement, the gossip seems to be.
Someone on their way out bumps into Lauren, how rude. A young, twenty something year old, green, beady eyes pass over her. He's younger, truly, but that one standout feature is still there - bald. The man mutters out an apology as he passes Lauren, stuffing a big, shiny necklace into his briefcase and disappears into the night.
As the shadow play unfolds, the bar erupts into chaos because of a fire that has seemingly broken out in the basement, a detail that puzzles Lauren, considering the building's exterior suggested no such space. Amidst the burgeoning panic and the throng of patrons making for the exits, Lauren decides to abandon the night's intrigues for breakfast, uninterested in delving deeper into the cryptic events that have overtaken her attempt at leisure. However, just as she leaves, she briefly encounters a bald, young man, who, in his haste, drops a shiny necklace into his briefcase before disappearing into the fading night. This fleeting interaction leaves Lauren with more questions than answers about the night's events, suggesting ties to the shadow performance she had just witnessed but ultimately, she chooses to leave the mystery unsolved, stepping back into the comfort of the known world.
(Lauren's odd encounter(SRTrevor):SRTrevor)
[Wed May 15 2024]
On Fairway Drive
This road is paved, its smooth surface a stark contrast to the rugged beauty
of the surrounding forest. The asphalt stretches out before the traveler, a
ribbon of black cutting through the lush green of the trees. The road is
lined with towering oaks and maples, their branches reaching out over the
pavement, creating a canopy of dappled sunlight. In the fall, the leaves turn
a brilliant array of reds, oranges, and yellows, creating a stunning display
of color that is breathtaking to behold. The road is narrow, with gentle
curves that follow the natural contours of the land. It rises and falls with
the hills, offering glimpses of the surrounding countryside through breaks in
the trees. To the east, the road leads to Haven, its buildings and houses
visible in the distance. To the west, the road continues on towards Fairfax
Manor, the impressive stone structure with towering North and South wings
slowly coming into view as one approaches.
It is night, about 69F(20C) degrees, There is a first quarter moon.
(The characters are enjoying a quiet evening at a local pub when suddenly, the patrons' shadows start behaving oddly. The shadows detach themselves from their owners and begin a sinister pantomime. They reenact a century-old crime that occurred in Haven, involving a powerful demon, a betrayal, and a stolen artifact. The shadows don't harm anyone but refuse to return to their owners. The characters must solve the mystery of the old crime to free the pub-goers from their shadowless state.)
Lauren is recently-woken, freshly-showered, and in her car, just driving around for the time being while she tries to figure out where to spend this night/morning. Haven's nightlife does leave a little something to be desired, unfortunately, and she's watching buildings roll past slowly, her window with an arm folded over it while she drives one-handedly.
As the recently-woken, and freshly-showered Lauren drives through the streets of Haven, she'll hear the hustle and bustle of the nightlife.
It's a warm night, not too hot, not too cold. The moon's out, not much of a cloud cover in the way.
Lauren's a yapper, a talker. Something's gotta set keep her going, and for Lauren that seems to be talking.
And there it is, the perfect opportunity. The thump of music, the sounds of laughter, and of raucous cheering comes from some bar. Seems like one Lauren's never been to. The perfect opportunity to find some new people to inflict with her incredible conversational skills.
Lauren pulls up, rolling her window up and parks on the side of street. It's a decent enough job, not perfectly straight. Of course this place doesn't have a valet service, why would it? Cheap. That's why.
The closer she gets to the door, the louder the music, the pulse of it all. The doors open, and it's a talker's paradise. Full, packed with people. The music will be a hindrance, but Lauren will surely find a way to get that all the words out. Even if it means half-yelling at them.
Three in the morning on a weekday night, and a placed packed full of people? It sounds too good to be true, but far be it for Lauren to refrain from checking out a new place - and here she thought she'd re-seen all that Haven had to offer after her return, too. There's a little pat to the hood of her car after she climbs out - 'stay safe, Betty' - and she's pushing the door open to see what they've got in store for her.
A beeline for the bar, first of all. Lauren finds herself a seat at one of the unoccupied stool, looking around for a second for any interesting individuals she may or may not be familiar with until she's got the bartender's attention. "Heya! I'll have a gin and tonic, please." All her manners and everything - always gotta be nice to the bartenders. Then she glances over to the nearest person at the bar from her, passing them to twiddling of her fingers in a casual, introductory little wave.
The bartenders are slammed tonight, and the poor young woman behind the bar looks to be having a little bit of a rough time at it. She looks to be new. The woman has got long, black hair that's currently tied up in a ponytail - the scrunchie holding the ponytail in place has got a nice, bright floral pattern. Piercing green eyes peer over at Lauren, and the woman offers her an apologetic smile. "I'll be with you in a moment!" she squeaks out, some burly man shouting about a Jack and Coke at the other end.
A man in his forties is the recipient of that twiddling wave. Bald, with glasses that don't sit right on his crooked nose. The vibe in this place, does not match the energy this man is giving off. Everything about him screams tight, like he doesn't belong here. But, for whatever reason, here he is. In one hand, he's nursing a pint of some alcoholic beverage. The man looks over to Lauren, as he catches the wave with a corner of his eye. "Hey there," he's got some sort of accent, it's hard to place, but it could be from a Slavic country. The man starts up - eyes inspecting Lauren in a curious gaze. "I come in here every night, and I've never seen you in here. How are you?" It's oddly aggressive, for the earlier friendly start.
That bartender comes back now, placing the gin and tonic in front of Lauren, "You wanna start a tab, Miss? Or pay as you go type deal?"
"Every night? You wanna get some help for that alcoholism problem, buddy?" Lauren could use some tact, just as much as baldie over there may use some intervention. Her attention is immediately caught again by the bartender, who earns herself a flash of a smile from the blonde, pleased. "Thanks! And, uhhh, I wasn't planning on getting wasted tonight, but we can do a tab anyway." She slides her ID over, letting the woman deal with it while she takes a much-needed sip of her drink.
"Oh, I'm good," comes the reply, far too late, to the question asked earlier. "I usually just hang out at the Succubus when I need a drink, 'cause the owner's a friend of mine, but I thought I'd try out something new, y'know? Didn't expect this place to be so crowded this late on a weekday - is there some sort of a special deal or something going on?"
"I work a tough job, I need to drink to keep myself contained," Baldie doesn't really seem to want to divulge more than that. He is tense, and the tactless comment from Lauren only seems to pull him tighter. The bartender inspects Lauren's ID carefully. You always gotta check. Can never know these days. It seems to checkout and off she goes to a little POS system behind her to input some information.
"Not really a special, but, I think," the man waves a hand gesturing vaguely. It looks like there's a few people in some hockey jerseys. Ah, the NHL playoffs. "A team won last night." Of course a team won, someone has to win. At least he gave up a little bit of an answer.
The far wall behind the bar where Lauren is sitting is completely blank, except for a few light fixtures there. A moment goes by and the lights seem to flicker. Off. On. From the looks of it, it seems a shadow is being pulled directly towards that wall. The shadow of one of the nearby patrons. It's as if it's being peeled from them, and pasted directly onto the wall like a sticker.
"Ahuh..." Lauren is half-listening, half-not really - it's hard to really want to get to know a guy after he's told you he needs to drink to keep himself 'contained' after a tough job. "I think alcohol does like the opposite of that, generally. Lowers inhibitions and shit, all that, but I'm sure you know given your, uh, robust experience with the stuff. What do you work as anyway?" Hopefully not with kids. Please, God, let it not be with kids.
Lauren takes another sip, downing her drink maybe faster than she'd originally intended - how rude would it be to walk over to the far end of the bar away from the guy, anyway? She probably shouldn't while the bartender's still dealing with her, right? She stares, waiting. The flicker of lights doesn't get her attention, but the shadow on the wall does, a slow blink of her eyes. "Cool trick," she mumbles under her breath, too low for the other guy to hear. Or for anyone to hear, hopefully. "I can do that too." And hey, look, she can. Bam, there's another shadow upon the wall.
The bartender returns now, "Here you go, Miss!" it's a little cheerier than her earlier squeak. Maybe it's because Lauren hasn't been rude to her. The man frowns at Lauren after the comment, "I sell knives." He doesn't seem to have anything on him at the moment, but that can't be the reason he's drowning his sorrows night after night. He might just be really bad at it. But anyway, that's all he offers up at the moment, taking a long sip of the drink he was nursing earlier.
That first shadow notices Lauren's shadow, and weirdly it seems to be aggressive. It stalks across the length of the wall - a fist raised, and it begins to shout. There's no actual words, nothing is being said, but from the way it moves, and the way it gesticulates, it seems pretty clear it's shouting at Lauren's. The original shadow - which will be refered to as the First, has a form to it. It's big, much bigger than the patron it got stolen off of. Broad shoulders, and it's wearing a hat, a nineteen twenties era fedora.
"Thanks!" Lauren returns again, equally as cheerily if not more, to the bartender, slipping her card back away to safety. Baldie near her gets a suspicious side-eye right after, like she's trying to figure out whether he's planning on stabbing her anytime soon. Maybe she shouldn't have accused him of alcoholism? Too late for regrets now anyway, may as well double down. "Ahh, sales, I feel you," she nods over to the man with put-on sympathy, a nail clicking against her glass before she takes another sip. "Maybe you should transition over to something else, if annoying customers are sucking your life away. I dunno, like... marketing."
Idly, she's watching the shadows upon the wall out the corner of her eye. Her eyebrows arch as the first shadow comes over yelling at hers, but, well, she can amuse what she assumes to be a fellow illusionist - nothing worse than people who just don't play along when she's putting in effort, right? The second shadow covers at her command, shrinking in on itself and trembling until it's barely a blob, frightened by being yelled at by the fedora guy - who wouldn't be, really?
At Lauren's thanks, the bartender turns away going to help some other cutomers. "Bah!" Baldie sputters out, almost choking on his drink. "Marketing!? Never," he downs the drink, picks up the briefcase from under his stool and stalks away to a different corner of the bar. Away from Lauren. A little bit of an overreaction from the man there, he must REALLY, REALLY hate marketing for some reason. Oh well. He's gone now.
the First continues to berate and yell, even after the second one is a blob. But now, there's a twist. Snaking up from another patron, stealing their shadow comes a third shadow, then, shortly after, a fourth. That third one begins to yell, mainly at the First and, it spins, turning to scream back at the third. The fourth seems to be the most reasonable of the bunch, it's off to a side of the wall, arms crossed over its chest, and it's just patient, waiting, listening.
Out of nowhere, the third reaches below itself, and pulls out, what looks to be a knife. With no hesitation, no remorse it brutally stabs the first - murdering it in cold blood.
There's a cheeky little grin on Lauren's face when the marketing-hating man strides off - not quite the reaction she'd expected, but she'll take it all the same, thank you. And then there's a low whistle escaping her at the show on the wall in front of her, morbidly amused. "Don't gotta go that far for poor Shadie there," she mumbles under her breath, referring to the shadow she's illusioned into being, but she's watching anyway to see how this plays out - isn't like the people around are very good conversationalists, considering how her try with Bald Guy had turned out. "Deserved? Maybe? Maybe not?" comes another little mumble, the woman deep in thought while she taps her fingernails idly upon the surface of the bar. With a flick of her fingers, she goes to dissipate her own shadow then, turning it from a cowering blob to an indistinct haze and then nothing at all, her mind made up: "All's fair in love and war. I getcha, shadow dude."
Shadow four and shadow three are left now - with the First's lifeless body growing colder and colder by the minute. Shadow four, the patient one, they would seem to be the mastermind behind whatever just happened here - judging by the way the third seemingly revers the fourth, always turning around, glancing over its shoulder to gauge it's reaction. The murder of the First made the third extra excitable - it's shadowy mouth moving quickly.
There's a single nod from the fourth towards the third, and it slides across the wall, seemingly looting the First. A moment or so later it comes up, holding up, what looks to be very a necklace of some sort. The details aren't clear, considering it's a shadow-y recreation of it, but the shape and size looks just necklace size. The third strolls over to the fourth and drops to one shadowy knee, offering it up to.. its lord? It's master. That seems to be the relationship between these creatures.
The wall changes now, more and more shadows being pulled from the patrons. They shift, and swirl around across the wall in some dizzying display.
Beat.
The wall now is covered in shadow, and it seems to resemble a building. An astute observer would notice that it looks similiar to the one Lauren is in now. Perhaps, an indication of more information.
"Kinda fucked up..." Lauren murmurs to herself, her cheek propped up on her hand while she leans against the bar, blinking slowly. She lifts her glass up to go take a sip from it, and then sighs when it comes up empty. "Puppet shows are supposed to be fun, dammit." comes the grumble to herself - hopefully nobody's watching her talk to herself like a crazy person - and then she's pushing up and away from the bar. "I'm headin' out, gonna go get breakfast instead 'cause some fuck had to go making things too heavy when I'm tryna relax. Goddamn, read the room dude." she calls out to the bartender with a little wave, half of that definitely not meant for the woman behind the bar. If there was supposed to be a clue to real dealings, it seems to have gotten way far above her head - as far as Lauren's concerned, it was just a fun little tryst between illusionists, until it became not-so-fun, which, hey, is maybe a reoccurring thing in this town. Still, fun over, so off she goes, back out to her car.
As Lauren makes to leave there's a commotion. A much louder commotion the the bar itself. There's a group of people huddled near the staircase to the basment. Odd. The building didn't look like it had a basement on the outside.
Smoke is billowing up the stairs. People are beginning to panic, a fire started in the basement, the gossip seems to be.
Someone on their way out bumps into Lauren, how rude. A young, twenty something year old, green, beady eyes pass over her. He's younger, truly, but that one standout feature is still there - bald. The man mutters out an apology as he passes Lauren, stuffing a big, shiny necklace into his briefcase and disappears into the night.