ArchivedLogs:Post-Carnage Cleanup

Post-Carnage Cleanup
Dramatis Personae Lucien, Nox, Desirée	2013-03-14 Nox to the rescue!
Location <MOR> Below New York
These tunnels are a confusing maze, even to those more accustomed to their layout. In a place some distance from here, emergency crews are working to remove both survivors and the body of the blood-crazed maniac who took them. Tatterhood the Sewer Knight has bravely volunteered to stick around to answer questions and Nox has departed, before anyone official noticed that she was on the scene. The woman, though injured, has judged it prudent to follow Carnage's backtrail on the off-chance that there will be other victims to discover--though she expects that should any be found, they will not be found alive. One dead body has already been removed from the final site; who knows how many more are hidden in the sewers? Nox has an advantage against her discomfort--by going non corporeal, she can postpone the discomfort that's sure to come, the effects of the damage done in the fight. A convenient place was found to hide away the vials of VENOM taken from the scene and now she moves along the tunnel walls and ceiling to track the trail of blood. It is not a difficult trail to follow, after several encounters with that thing. Desiree has no such advantage. Tired and more than a little frightened and dotted with stinging cuts, sticky and quite filthy, the teenager is drifting. A little dazed, a little limpy, but determinedly forward, one hand trailing slim fingers against the wall. At one point she might have been crying; there are streaks washed through the grime on her cheeks, but she isn't anymore. She's quiet, jaw set, trudging steadily onward in the darkness. It might not be the way up. Who knows. But it's a straight path! And she is taking it. Anything larger than a rat is bound to attract attention. Desiree certainly fits the bill! Nox comes from above, dropping through an access hatch and then almost starting off in the other direction--when the scuff of a foot against damp ground is heard and she does an about face. Then she's off, zipping in the girl's direction. Her presence is signaled first through the hand touched to the wall. There are /thoughts/ there, as Nox reaches her. These are broken up, barely heard, like something spoken several tunnels away and barely overhead--it's easier to pick up a sense of exhaustion in the mind that claims them. <<a chil--e's alive--ness--oor dea--oodness--thank go-->> What is said, gently, and from all around Desiree is, "Hello, dear." If she were to look, she would (probably barely, given the lighting conditions) see the faint outline of a woman's shadow against the wall beside her. "Are you lost? I can lead you out. Did the thing take you? The bloody monster? He's dead now, dead and gone, please do not be afraid..." Desiree freezes, at those first overheard thoughts. There's a puzzled look on her face, not seeing anyone at hand, and for a long moment she is very still and very quiet, eyes wide and straining to see in the dark tunnel. When the voice speaks up she yelps, high and brief and startled, pressing back against the wall. It takes a good few moments before she answers: "Who -- where -- are you?" In the dark, she's probably missed the shadow, still peering into the darkness nervously. The apology is immediate: "I am sorry for startling you. Here. To your right." Nox has some skill with manipulating existing shadows. It isn't quite the same as shining a light on the wall but she thins them out enough that her darker outline is visible. To make the scene that much more bizarre, one of her hands lifts and gives a wave. The walls whisper, "My name is Nox. I am...I live here. My friend has dispatched the man who took you. I was looking for...others. What is your name, dear? Will you let me lead you to the surface? If you go that way, you will go deeper." Desiree is still tense, as she looks to her right, staring a long while as the shadows thin. "He had so many," she says, in a dull voice. "He dropped me. Was he a man?" She seems reluctant, still, to move away from the wall, her fingers pressing to its chilly surface. "I'm lost," she admits, with a shiver and a glance further into the tunnel. "I was supposed to get out -- to call -- to call -- for help. He's gone?" She looks back to the shadow, something cutting through the kind of shell-shocked glaze to furrow her brow. "-- Nox." It hurts to peel away from the wall and take on a shape but Desiree's shivering compels Nox to do so. She's slow in forming, marked dark on dark with wounds that bleed shadows, but her arms are there opened and inviting to wrap the girl within them. "Shhh," she soothes, "it will be all right now. You are safe. He was a very bad man but he is gone now. I swear it, I saw him dead. I am Nox, and I will bring you to people who can help you. What is your name?" The repetition of the question is as soft as the rest of her words but this time, Nox is studying Desiree closely as if puzzled. Something is nagging at her and as her hand brushes Desi's shoulder, a thought comes more clearly: <<...know her?>> That same question is nagging at Desiree, too; as Nox peels away she is watching with a growing thoughtfulness cutting through the exhaustion. She is tense as Nox takes form, but, hesitantly, steps in to the embrace. There's a cautious reserve to the touch, and as she accepts the hug she focuses, mustering up energy to grasp for those distant thoughts. "Nox," she repeats, firmer this time. "Are the others, the other people, are they okay? He had others." She's still reserved, tense and watchful, and she gives her name only after a pause: "I'm Desi." There's another pause, and when she continues it has somewhat the feel of taking a gamble: "Desiree. Tessier." With the embrace comes the force of Nox's concern for the girl, a fierce protectiveness that jars oddly with the cool, not-entirely-solid nature of her touch. She is good at wrapping around people though, for providing a little support to keep Desiree on her feet. In the background, the here and gone nature of her thoughts is running through a mental map of the area, determining how best to get the exhausted child up and out of the sewers. "I found them all," she assures her, "and took them away from him while my friend fought him. They are being taken to the surface now. Desi...come with...Tessier?" During the silence that follows, Nox's arms tense around the teenager. "You are...you were with Lucien. The day of the snowball fight. Oh. Oh no. My dear, my darling...I am so sorry." Desiree remains tense until Lucien's name. It's this mention of her brother, this confirmation of connection, that breaks this, pulling her posture into a sudden wilt, her eyes squeezing shut on a fresh well of tears. "{I have to call them,}" comes first in a stress-edged burst of French. In English, "Luci, yes. I have to call them. He tried to take Sera and Gaetan, too, I don't know -- don't know where -- they need to get /home/, Matt and Luci will be so -- I have to get home." "Shhh," Nox soothes again, that intent to comfort needing neither words nor any language other than the fierce hug Desiree is given. Cuts and bruises be damned, she will find the energy for this. "Come," she urges, drawing back now but keeping Desiree's hands in hers to lead her back the other way, towards that access hatch. "{Breathe deeply, Desiree. Do you trust me? I can move us quickly but it might be frightening.}" "{Where are we? Can -- I don't have any -- I need to get to the Village,}" Desiree says, following along with her hand in Nox's. She hesitates, looking at the woman, looking around the tunnel. "{Okay,}" is her only meek acceptance of the offer to move faster. "We are deep below the surface. But I know how to get us to the Village. I know how to get us to your home." Because with Lucien is "home". Now draws the girl in closer, wrapping her in her arms again--and then slowly enfolding her in shadows. It is very dark, and very cool, not unlike burrowing beneath blankets well after bedtime. It's easier this way to pick up on her thoughts and feelings. Worry, fear, concern, protectiveness...and a trace of happiness, to be able to return Lucien's sister. Lucien. There is /such/ affection there. "Try to remain as relaxed as you can," Nox whispers from all around Desi. There is a vague sense of movement, of rising. Then of moving backwards. Rising again. As they go, the woman continues to speak, if only to keep the teenager from panicking at sensory deprivation. "You were very brave to try to find your way out. Many who come to the tunnels panic. Lucien will be so very proud of you. I have rarely met so young who is so brave..." "{You're his friend.}" For some reason Desiree sounds surprised at this. "{Luci's friend.}" She is listening to Nox, relaxing -- as much as her current state allows -- into the enveloping shadows. Her heart is racing, though, her breathing quickening, and the << don't drop me >> that comes across is inadvertent. "{Lucien doesn't get proud of much,}" she says, fixating on this rather than the strange shadowy transportation. "I have you," Nox whispers, and it's true. Desiree is in a life-sized padded envelope. There is very little jarring. But there /is/ a slight pause as the shadow lady realizes one of those statements was not spoken aloud. Telepath, her mind whispers, just marking a fact rather than showing any alarm. "We are friends, yes," and there is the affection again, confused though it is. "I think he will be very proud of you. Hold on." Not that there's anything to hold on /to/... But from outside of that pocket, there is a heave and a clang and a metallic scrape. They've just breached the surface and Nox has pushed a manhole cover aside, after checking for traffic. Desiree is lifted out onto the pavement and shifted quickly to the sidewalk, where her transporter seems to just...melt away, leaving her sitting on the curb. The townhouse rises behind her, and there are cars parked to the left and right at the curb. "...here we are," Nox murmurs from somewhere. Desiree would be holding tight but she can't find much to hold tight /to/; instead she clenches her hands into fists and squeezes her eyes shut and curls slightly in on herself. Even once they are outside and she is on the sidewalk safely it takes her a moment before she opens her eyes. Another moment before her fists unclench. Her breathing is kind of ragged but the expression on her face is relieved. "-- {Home,}" she breathes out, suddenly slumping downward, exhausted. She pushes herself slowly to her feet. "Luci. Matt." Her fingers scrub through her filthy hair. "{I -- thank you. Where did you go? Will you stay?}" She's starting to trudge towards the door. It takes Nox a moment longer to draw herself up. Even then, she's only really half there, a shimmer of gloom moving a step behind Desi as she wobbles into movement. "Here...I am here." Whenever the girl seems to need support, a hand is there to steady her and when they're near enough to the door, she musters the energy to make one finger solid to lean on the buzzer. "It will be okay," she whispers afterward, phantom fingers brushing back that sewer-stained hair. "I promise." "{What was it?}" Desiree asks as they wait. It's likely she has keys here normally but, snatched from home in the middle of the night she is here in tattered old sweatpants and a loose men's undershirt. She did not take time to pack. "{That thing. Do you know? It wanted blood. I could feel it.}" There is no answer at the buzzer, and eventually she frowns and buzzes again. Anxiously. "A mutant." The answer is short. Exhausted, more than curt, and certainly not as much information as she /could/ give Desiree. But Nox is distracted and anxious as well--the door isn't opening as she expected. With a soft, "I will be right back," she slips to the ground, eeling into the townhouse through the barest of cracks between door and frame. Then it's up up up to the lock and handle to /open/ the door from the inside...without a thought to whether there might be an alarm set or not. She is not at her best but the desire to get Desi off of the street takes precedence--and then she moves deeper into the home in search of its occupants. There /is/ an alarm, in fact. And it has been set, and is alarming, silent but with flashing light on its control panel. Thankfully, though, Desiree, even if she comes unarmed with keys carries the alarm /code/ in her head. One crisis averted, at least. Inside, the house is mostly dark. There's a light on in the study, one on in the master bedroom upstairs. The bed looks like it was vacated in a hurry, sheets rumpled, pajama pants dropped on the floor. The house is empty, though. Desiree is wandering into it, tracking sewer-muck over Lucien's pristine floors. Nox's search of the premises is rapid. All too soon, she's returned to the girl's side--this time to drape /around/ her because speech take more energy than she can expend and it's easier to be carried like a weightless cloak, in contact. She thinks instead. Thinks /hard/. << No one here. Call him? >> Lucien's face drifts by, his jaw set, his brow furrowed. << Was here. Left quickly. >> Desiree is still just kind of drifting. It takes the reminder to call before she even /remembers/ that is a thing she can do! Or could do, anyway, but: "No phone," she says, uncertainly patting at her sweatpants as though her cellphone might /appear/ there. She frowns, biting down on her lip as she heads into the study. It is also devoid of a phone (everyone has cells! Who needs land lines?) and she looks around it with a growing tension before her gaze lights on the computer. "Sera and Gaetan -- maybe he heard." She boots the computer up, instead. There is a pulse of confusion from the Nox-cloak when Desiree turns to the computer. Computer? How will this help? Fighting her exhaustion remains a constant battle but she maintains enough energy to keep that sense of presence there. She's here. She is encouraging. She is sure it is only that Lucien has gone somewhere because, yes, he must have heard. She is so tired... << Can call him? Through this? >> "Yeah. Thank the gods for Google. Or the gods /of/ Google." Desiree is /impatient/ as the computer boots, even though in computer terms it's really quite fast. Her fingers are drumming in restless taptaptap against the desk until she can finally type the password in, fingers flying jittery over the keys. "You should sleep. You feel like you should sleep," she's only now growing aware of, "-- Are you okay? You're not okay, you fought some hellbeast. You should sleep." << Tatterhood fought him. >> Nox pulls images to the forefront, presenting them as loudly as she can to compensate: the chamber belowground, the commotion of Tatters taking Carnage on armed only with her spear, the squirming bodies fixed high on the wall and plucked down, so many at one time, the way it drained her and the assault from Carnage when he realized his prey was escaping. "I will see you safe with him," she whispers before fading out again. "-- Wow." That is all Desiree has to say to the mental image, though her eyes widen and he -- shock? surprise? awe? all these things? leak through to Nox. "On her own." It takes a moment before she remembers to Compute, opening up a browser to log in to Google Voice. "-- Yeah," she says, then, "but /also/ you could sleep. There's couches. Bed even." Pride echoes back to the mingled emotions. << Tatterhood. She is a Knight. >> Nox somehow contrives to convey the sense of curled fingers brushing Desi's brow. << Soon. I will sleep soon. Find Lucien first. Let him know. >> She will not admit to worrying but then, there's no need. Curled around the teenager as she is, the sense of it comes through clearly enough. << Phone in a computer. Brilliant. >> "You don't use computers much, do you?" Desiree is dialing, as Nox speaks, plugging a headset into the computer and putting it over her dirty hair. "Knight. Huh. Yeah. I'd say she is." She doesn't comment on the worry, though she does look Nox over with a slightly worried frown of her own. At least until: "{Ohgods, Matt. No I'm fine, are Sera and -- no I'm /fine/, where are you. Is Luci -- No, I -- yes. Yes, but someone found me -- /no/, I'm /fine/ -- Luci's friend. Nox.}" There's a longer pause here. "{No, I'm /fine/. I'm home. Where /are/ you? No. No, she brought me out. No, it's dead. No, I'm -- please come home,}" she says, smaller. "{Yes. She's still here with me. -- No, it's /dead/. OK. OK. Love you.}" Desiree hangs up the phone, scrubbing her hand against her forehead. "They're coming back," she says, sinking down against the desk. The only answer Nox provides to the question is a glint of mild amusement. Then all is still and silent while the woman listens to the exchange. Or maybe she dozes off. It's difficult to tell when she's only barely there. /Afterward/ though, she tries to shed some of the exhaustion. Desi loses her cloak when Nox becomes the half-ghost again, hands feathering over bowed shoulders. << Couch, >> she suggests. And, << Rest. Cry, if you need. You're safe now. >> At first Desiree starts to take this suggestion. She pushes herself upright, starts towards the living room. But then she stops, looking down at her hands. "Oh, gods, I'm covered in /bloodmonster/," she laments. "I'll get it all over their -- ugh." She picks underneath one fingernail with another. "/You/ should rest," she says, gesturing towards the couch, "/I/ should shower Luci'll have a heart attack. He might send me /back/ to the monsterthing." "I would not let him." Nox cannot exactly enunciate stoutly but she tries. In a whisper. Badly. Phantom hands fuss over Desi again, brushing her hair, her shoulders, her back. "Go on. If it will make you feel better." A shower is probably a good idea! And she doesn't have the focus needed to argue with the advice on which of them should rest--phasing out, she reappears on the couch a moment later, practically a smudge on the cushions that is vaguely human shaped. Upright, for now, or at least so long as Desiree is there to see her. "I will guard," she promises. "Have you tried stopping Luci when he's in a mood?" Desiree's lips twitch; it's not quite a smile but it's as close as she's gotten tonight. She watches until Nox is smudging onto the couch, and then, at least partly satisfied, trudges her way up the stairs. Trailing sewer muck as she goes. "No. I have not." And yet, Nox is not too concerned. Maybe she knows something Desiree does not! Or maybe she's just waiting. For the girl to leave. So she can droop and fade to near invisibility. That, at least, means that the woman is still conscious. It isn't until water is heard that the shadow lady ever so gradually grows darker, revealing herself to be tipped onto her side--presumably, all of her details are foggy--either asleep or unconscious. The shower runs. It runs a long while. Very long while. Maybe there is a lot of bloodmonster to scrub off. Maybe Desiree has fallen asleep. Regardless, it runs long enough that the front door opens again before the bathroom door. There is a multitude of footsteps, here. Sera is trudging in, tired, Gaetan kind of irritably stomping. Matt is next, wheeled over the threshhold by a very drawn-looking Lucien. "{Straight to bed,}" Matt is telling the two youngest, "{You've had a long night.}" Lucien is standing by the door, frowning at the tracked-in mess. "Desi? -- Nox?" Proven: it was sleep. Else Nox would probably not be able to stir when noise is heard. It takes her a few moments to drag herself into something resembling a non-boogeyman before sitting up, features visible but her edges ragged and fading. She stands a moment later to drift ghost-like towards the foyer. "Desi is. Was. Showering." She is abashed--having said she'd guard, she should know this! But it is muted abashment and she has presence of mind to hang back enough, so as not to frighten the little ones. A smile is forced to her lips, barely visible, and not touching her eyes at all as they turn towards Lucien. "She is all right. Unharmed. Shaken." "She is. And you?" Lucien drops a hand to Sera's shoulder when the girl shies back, as Nox stirs. Sera is stifling a yawn, but also staring at Nox, wide-eyed. Gaetan is less staring, more blunt: "What's that." "Who," Matt corrects reflexively. "Our friend Nox. /Bed/, Gae." "Is she a ghost?" Sera whispers up to Lucien. Upstairs, the shower finally shuts off. "I dearly hope not," Lucien answers, "I rather like her alive." His voice is fairly flat, dragged down with the weight of worry and stress. "Alive and not a ghost," Nox answers. It's impossible to tell the effort it takes her but she briefly, so very briefly, materializes. Not so much that modesty is offended, but enough that she appears solid--and then fades again, before the marks covering her body can be recognized for what they are. Her smile softens at the children. "I helped your sister. She is safe now and so are you. You should sleep." As should she but she remains standing as she was, gaze continuously drawn back to Lucien however much she might try to look at all of them. "I need rest. Jill is...handling the police. You should be safe now." Lucien is watching Nox carefully, too. Matt flicks a glance between the both of them, slowly getting up from his chair (the wheels are fairly crusted in muck) to start herding the children upstairs. Sera is chattering somewhat /sleepily/ at her brothers about having ghosts in the house as they go. "You helped my sister," Lucien echoes this softly, taking a step closer to Nox. It's quiet, reserved, as he says simply, "We were worried." His eyes drop, then lift back to her slowly. "Thank you," is softer, worry bleeding into his tone despite his attempts to keep it level. "When I heard --" His head shakes. "-- You need rest." The little group is watched as they move away, with Nox attempting another smile when Matt passes her. Once they're moving up the stairs, she turns slowly to face Lucien. She flickers in and begins to reach a hand towards him, inviting, but she flickers out before the gesture can be completed. "I found her. In the tunnels. It dropped her. She was not...she was unhurt. The others are safe too." For the most part. Surely there will be time for the whole story later. Nox, whose voice is getting quieter and quieter, makes another attempt to materialize. "I...yes. And Jill...the police. She will need. Can you call Lily? I need to rest." "Is Tatters okay?" Lucien completes the motion that Nox does not, stepping forward and slipping his hand out to meet hers -- insofar as he can, solid flesh reaching for shadow and then dropping back to his side. He slips his phone out of his pocket. "Do you have her number? I will call her. You rest. I will -- keep the lights off for you." "She was incredible. Tired too. But incredible. She ended him." Nox looks down at their almost joined hands then closes her eyes. Lily's number is repeated slowly, with a backtracking for a correction twice. When she's finished, she steps forward. Another attempt is made to phase in, and for just a moment she's there, solid enough to rest her forehead against his shoulder and lean into the man. Then she dissipates entirely. "Rest. Yes," the shadows in the living room whisper before falling silent. Lucien taps Lily's number into his phone. He doesn't dial, though. He lets his hand fall back to his side, until that moment when Nox is solid. For that moment, his arm lifts, wrapping up around Nox's back, his fingers pressing into her tendriled hair. His cheek rests down against her hair, and then his arm is holding nothing. He steps back. "Is there anything I can do to help?" For a moment there's nothing. Then, softly, "...tell Desi she was brave." Nox says no more after that. One dark corner of the living room grows slightly darker--and remains so. Lucien is quiet. He watches that dark corner steadily, then moves to turn off the light in the hall, throwing the first floor back into darkness. "Thank you," sounds softly in the dark, and then his footsteps move up the stairs.