A SEASON FOR EVERYTHING

Sarah Connors, Joey Campbell, Garry Blake.

The names roll around in their minds, each a question to be answered. Beneath their feet, the dead woman - shot through the heart - held a small card with their names on it. The appartment itself was a mess: clearly someone ravaged the place, looking for something. The woman - Nina Santori - just happened to get home on the wrong hour. The '22 she held on the other hand showed she wasn't just gonna play victim.

Sarah Connors, Joey Campbell, Garry Blake...

A couple of days before Isadora had met Santori. She was lecturing at a local bookstore. Nina wrote a book - some fancy study on the war and it's consequences for the city. As Nguyen watched the lecture, something rang true, like an old memory of important events - events linked to the future, her future.

She knew she had to talk to the woman.

No such luck, though. By the time they arrived, she was already gone.

[Cops ain't here yet. You get to investigate without their interference if you want. But you gotta be quick. Or maybe... twist the clock. :)]

Isadora wasn't happy with this. She also didn't believe in coincidences. What was written was something important. Something meaningful. Something that needed to be expanded upon.

She looked to the man with her. To the man who she still wasn't quite certain of. Everything took time with her. A lot of time, something she had but most people did not. The gem on her head was blue at the moment with a traditional sapphire cut. "So, do we investigate now, do I see who killed her...I should do that regardless. Or do we try to stop this from happening? I think she may be important. And those involved may be as well. Perhaps we can start with yesterday or the day before. After I met her but before this happened?" She didn't think in terms of crimes but stopping them or making sure they happened depending on what may be best for the future. In this moment, though, she looked forward while letting him think. She looked forward to see if this may be something good or bad. She then looked back to see if the killer could be seen, though she figured a masked figure would be involved. It so oft was.

If the law had already been over the crime scene, Edgar Morris may have shown up under the pretense of investigating a crime for a client protected by confidentiality laws. But as Isadora had gotten there first, and then called him in to assist, the wily veteran decided that protecting his identity would be the best choice in this instance, just in case someone did show up while they were investigating. As such, he stood in full Stormshadow attire, lightning-patterned aviator jacket displayed proudly.

But such thoughts were behind him now. He was in work mode.

"Well, we are already here. Might as well investigate the crime scene for as many clues as possible. Because I can't think of many reasons that we wouldn't go back and save this lady. But if we prevent the death before we investigate the crime scene, we might never learn as much about the reasons or cause of her death. Besides, I wouldn't want to assume that it was a simple shooting, only to rewind the clock and discover that the gunshot was merely used to cover up a mustard gas attack. Then we'd be screwed for not doing our homework. No, I say we take a few minutes to poke around before we do anything else," Edgar said absentmindedly as he started to wander about the room, careful to not touch anything.

"So, you say you just met this woman just recently?" he went on, asking questions while he worked.

OOC Mechanics
08:24, Today: Stormshadow rolled 18,29 using d20+12,d20+14.  Investigation, Perception.

Isadora was not dressed like a hero. She was wearing a green dress that flowed to her knees. She wore heals, unworried about the effects that had on legs. She had a large hat that would have fit in with any of the downtown wealthy.

"There are plenty of reasons not to change events. There are also plenty of reasons to. Honestly, i may be attaching my view of the way I want things and, well, her views align with mine in some ways. But, her death may be what gets her word out. A pot of people weren't well thought of until they were dead." She had a cold detachment that could rub some the wrong way. In the end, though, a life wasn't important. Lives were. People not a person. She enjoyed individuals but that was enough. "We need to figure out what will be best. Perhaps exposure will be better, thinking about it. Regardless, yes. Investigate. I'll do so as well."

She sat on the floor near the body and her gem glowed as she looked back.

OOC: Using postcognition"

Stormshadow checks the place. The studio, a one-piece apartment, was overturned. The desk had its drawers broken; the books were dragged from the bookshelf; Corner tables, lamps and smaller utensils are scattered across the floor... The carpet’s tapped and the floor’s scratched. The victim scanned the area after entering. The weird part is she went into the apartment even after she saw the mess. Took the shot right in the chest – she would have seen the murderer. Why didn't she run?

The ' 22 shot one, two, three, bullets, lodged in the wall and in a column. She missed. By a longshot. After she fell, she seems to have tried to reach the phone.

Upon the body, Isadora sees the scene, emerging in a fantasmagorical way, before her eyes. The victim entered the apartment. She used her key. The killer knew what he was doing, braking inside with proper tools. Isadora can't see his face. Not yet, anyway... The woman comes in. She looks at the overturned room, scans her surroundings. A deep, masculine, distorted voice addresses her: "Relax. I just want the address. Give me the address and I'll leave you alone. "

She reaches inside her purse, picks up her gun. "Who's there?" – she says, looking around. The voice came from somewhere, but from where? There's no hiding. Now, it's from the left.

"Come on, sweetie. Just give me what I want! Don’t wanna harm ya. "– the voice comes from no one.

She shoots. Once. Twice. Empty shots. "Damn!" – the voice responds. A flash, coming from a few steps ahead, to the right. She’s hit, she shoots once more in response. She gets the wall, and nothing else.

She falls. Sound of steps moving towards the door. The door closes itself.

"Damn, damn! Look what you made me do! "
She tries to scream for help. She’s too weak. She reaches for her purse, takes out the card she now holds in hand, clenching the gun with the other one. She drags herself towards the phone table, invisible steps following closely. She passes out: dead. The steps continue, from one side to another, unclaimed by anyone. The voice grunts and moans, searching the place a little more. In vain. The studio just falls into silence, with doors and windows still closed...

Stormshadow looks at the dead woman, the stretched hand and the broken body. If she wanted the phone, why didn't she drop the gun? And it is then that he realizes: just below the phone table, the floor seems to have a very subtle division, like that to form a hatch... Maybe she wanted to reach the compartment, not the phone.
Suddenly, both Isadora and Stormshadow feel as if they were being watched… Closely watched.

"I'm not an expert on time, and how to interact with it, but from my point of view, if we have the ability to avert disaster, and choose not, we are no better than an onlooker who refuses to held the victim of a stabbing," Edgar said evenly, but there was a slight edge to his voice near the end.

Stormshadow had a very strong sense of justice. And though he did not speak of his experiences in war often, from the almost compulsive way he held his convictions, it was clear his desire wasn't entirely rational. But one couln't argue with his dedication, or the results that he generated.

The lithe vigilante wasn't sure what sort of information Isadora was picking up with her abilities, but from his own investigation, he could read much of what happened. Including the existence of the hidden hatch, and the sudden feeling of being watched. But after a moment, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up for s different reason. A crackle of electricity arced down his arms and danced in his eyes for just a heartbeat.

"Ma'am, I've found a hidden hatch beneath the phone. And we might not be alone here, so I'd prepare for an unwelcome guest if I were you..." he said casually, grabbing the latch as he did so, and gathering electricity in the other hand.

"If I did that all I would be doing is attempting to stop crime after crime, rescue after rescue. It would be endless even just on this world much less the infinite others. Sometimes you just have to let fate take its course, especially when you can always do something. So, I take a larger look and would prefer to save the world so it isn't destroyed like mine was. Sometimes people need to be saved, sometimes they need to be allowed to stay dead." It was a simple calculus for her. Everything already hung heavy enough on her.

She watched the scene, not being able to see a face. As she came out she felt it too. Nodding, she closed her eyes again and started searching with her ability to see other places. Following sight lines, hoping that she could locate the culprit.

With Isadora sufficiently warned, Stormshadow opened the hatch, and mentally prepared himself for all manner of assassins and monsters. Such was the life that they both lead that those were the most probable encounters they were likely to have when searching for hidden observers.

C'est la vie...

"I'm looking for whomever is watching. Moving my senses in a pattern to check all the sight lines." She figured a heads up might be good. And a warning that her senses would be elsewhere.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:04, Wed 02 Oct 2019.

As Stormshadow opens the hatch, Isadora sees a slight, subtle distortion flowing behind the kitchen counter. The hatch clicks out, loosening itself and popping out, revealing the interior of a secret compartment, carved in solid wood. Within, a stack of letters and notes, tied around a black notepad, rests untouched.

The opening of the lead triggers the movement! The distortion leaps over the kitchen counter, plunging towards Stormshadow and ignoring Isadora! It seems that the camouflaged invader wants to tackle the investigator and reach out for the contents of the box!

[Ok, guys, roll initiative, please! You are NOT surprised by this, obviously!]

OOC: 16:51, Today: Stormshadow rolled 19 using 1d20+4.  Initiative.

OOC: Initiative 8 - Same modifier, very different roll.

14:43, Today: Rapture rolled 20 using 1d20.

[I NEVER fudge!]

The distorted spectre leaps forward, ready to tackle Stormshadow and grab the contents of the box!

[Counts as a disarm action, since he wants Stormshadow to drop the package - minus 2 for him]
14:45, Today: Rapture rolled 18 using 1d20+6 ((12)).

The creature attempts to shoulder Stormshadow down, beating the package out of his hands. With a quick swing of his arm, he strikes Stormshadow's hand, throwing the package a few feet to the left. Stormshadow manages to sidestep, still standing and ready for combat. A strange growl comes from the spectre, as if to threaten the investigators.


[Your moves!]
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:58, Mon 07 Oct 2019.