CLOSED SIGNUPS The Call of the Abyss

MiharuAya

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Noah Anderson
Location: Police Station
Interactions: Mitena @PavellumPendulum Jeremiah @Jenamos


As Noah felt his body collide into the water, he had expected to be dragged away by the rivers rushing current. However, the water was eerily calm. The only disruption came from the dozens of other bodies falling in, causing a ripple across the surface before disappearing.

It all felt wrong. Yet, strangely enough, he wasn't scared. As he plunged deeper into the pitch-black water, his eyes fluttered shut. "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven…" At some point, he fell unconscious and let the darkness overtake him.

~~~~~​

A sudden gasp for air sent water heaving out of his burning lungs. As Noah coughed, his entire body shook and trembled while he desperately tried to take a clear breath. His wet clothes clung to his shivering body, while beads of water dripped from the ends of his hair. As he tried to settle himself down, a hand reached up to clasp onto his cross neckless.

Once he was able to breathe easier, he began looking around. If he had to guess, they were at the police station. Perhaps it was because of the near-death experience, but something felt very ominous about the space. It was dark, and the flickering light didn't help to make the station any more welcoming or inviting. But, the part that bothered Noah the most, was that he couldn't seem to remember how they ended up there.

Even so, it wasn't like he really knew anything. He was new, and even if his intuition was sending him red flags, vocalizing that wouldn't help the situation. Especially since it seemed that the others were just as freaked out as he was. "Are you alright Mitena?" He asked, recognizing them as the leader of their group.

It occurred to Noah then, that he hadn't seen their other member Jeremiah. Noah stood onto wobbly legs, wanting to try and find the other member of their group. As he peeked around some of the desks, he found a pair of legs sticking out from the other side of one. "Jeremiah?" He called out softly. "Are you okay?" Noah leaned down beside the other, unsure what to do.
 
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MaryGold

he is half my soul, as the poets say
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VICTOR
Tired Father & Cool Teacher™
He was dead. Or at least on his way to being dead. There was no other option when the very last thing he felt was fear and the edges of his vision darkened until he saw nothing but black and his breathing ceased when his lungs filled with water. Worse than that was the falling that came before then, and worse than the falling was the voices that not he heard but his group and the absolute lack of control he possessed of his body. Death would be sweeter than ever feeling that again.

But Victor wasn't dead. Though he should have been, he was very much alive. And the vigor of his very living body was evident as he turned over on his side violently coughing up every drop of water he gulped. His throat burned and though his eyes were open, his vision was blurred and the voices speaking around him were muffled. Perhaps if he stopped smoking he would have been able to hold his breath better.

His body may have felt some relief, but Victor himself felt none. His body remained on the ground, tired and sore to the bone. Nearly as soon as he woke, he was closing his eyes again, slipping into a sleep where he could hear the sounds of words and feel movement around him. A sleep where his mind dwelled on the voice and the repetitive words spoken by it.

"Don’t make me give you mouth to mouth."

No. That was not what it said at all.

Victor peeled open his eyes reluctantly and stared back at the blue looking down at him. "I'm not that far gone yet, officer." Victor quipped in the too grim situation. He pressed his palms against the floor and pushed himself off the ground from a laying position to a sitting position. His vision was focused and his breathing steadied, but even then their surroundings made no sense. The sheriff's office. "How .. did we get here?"

Better yet, how was it that everyone was them. "What about Abigail and Dominic?" He quickly asked after, glancing around teh room for their search party members.
Code by Jenamos
 
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Jenamos

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JEREMIAH
Well, he hadn't been wrong. There is certainly something supernatural happening, and that fact is undeniable as something suddenly possesses each of their bodies and pulls them towards the abnormally immobile river. He swears there were stars in the sky, but the river reflects nothing, it's just an inky black void. He can't pull his head up to check if the sky is still as it was, nor can he turn it when he begins to hear the splashing.

Splash. Splash. Splash.

The knowledge that they are all being pulled into the river one at a time was intrinsic somehow, and yet, he doesn't fear it as he thought he might. Does he want to die? Of course not, and there is that natural fight-or-flight instinct driving adrenaline through his body, but mentally, he's prepared. He doesn't want to die, but does he not deserve it? He's partially responsible for his student's death, and if this is what happened to her, then meeting the same fate feels like poetic justice.

So, he closes his eyes and lets the water envelop him in its crushing, choking embrace.


When he opens his eyes, he's surprised that he even can. He's never believed in the concept of an afterlife, and the pain shooting through his body tells him that he can't be in any sort of utopia. It's the unmistakable pain of creaky joints and bruised skin, though, not the fiery depths of any kind of Hell that's got him still. Although, his lungs are burning, and his body begins to cough on its own in painful jerking motions, sending fluid back up and out of his throat. He can't move much, though, as there's a heavy weight on top of him, keeping him in place. The mass is warm, soft, and remarkably solid. When he presses a hand to it, he can feel the expansion and compression of breathing. His clothes feel heavy and are sticking to his body uncomfortably. Right, the river... Had he not drowned? Had they not drowned? The breathing of his unconscious companion seems to confirm that they'd indeed survived.

His head is swimming, his ears ringing, and his vision is fuzzy, glasses lost who knows where. "F-Fuck," he manages, hands scrambling to push the weight off of him. When he manages to shove it off of him, he turns over, sending himself into another coughing fit as his hands scramble for his lenses. He can't make heads or tails of most anything with the world reduced to blurs of color with no precise shapes. He can hear, though, and as his head begins to clear, the low humming becomes voices. Familiar voices, actually. One, in particular, is close enough to hear, and it's saying his name. The voice isn't overly familiar, but he's heard it before, he knows he has — right! Noah, the priest. "Noah, is that you? Do you see my glasses anywhere?"

When said glasses are returned to him, he puts them on and breathes a sigh of relief at the world coming back into sharp focus again. The right lens is cracked, which is irritating, but it's better than nothing. His head is pounding, but he can process things again, like the smell of coffee and the desks around him. Are they at the school? No, this room doesn't look familiar to him at all. "Where are we?" he asks, getting to his feet with the help of a nearby desk for support. Nearly as soon as the question leaves his mouth, though, does he notice the pictures and files everywhere. Ah. The sherrif's office. Not that that really solves his confusion. "How the hell did we get here?" The question is entirely rhetorical.

He'd be tempted to say that the whole thing had been a dream, but the feeling of having fallen from a far distance and the way his clothes are soaked through suggests that the earlier events had indeed happened as he remembers. The horror on everyone's faces, too, solidifies that. "Seems I was right to suspect the supernatural," he grunts, pulling his bag off of his shoulders to sift through it. "Hope you've still got that holy water." This is probably the wrong time for jokes, but then again, it's not entirely a joke.

It's a good thing he'd invested in a water-resistant bag, as his equipment seems largely untouched by the liquid. Then again, he can't be sure they're all still in proper working condition until he tries them out. "So, do you guys think that was some sort of wormhole? A crack in time and space sort of thing?" He fixes his attention on the deputies in particular. "Do you recognize everything here, or does anything seem... off?" If the latter, they could be in an alternate dimension. Provided this isn't all some hallucination in his head.

A groan draws his attention, coming from the person he'd shoved off of him earlier. He recognizes the man's face, although his name is more difficult to place... or right, Mr. Casella. He's not much of a drinker, so he's not on close terms with the other man, but he's well aware of the weight of his family name. Both in what they have offered to the town and in the tragedy that befell them. "Am I dead?" Mr. Casella asks, rubbing the back of his head.

"Possibly," Jeremiah says, "Although the fact that I feel like I've been hit by a truck suggests this is very much real."

"I can't imagine that was all just the result of a concussion, then, if you're all here," Mr. Casella frowns, rubbing at his lower back. "How is everyone? Besides bruised up?"
Code by Jenamos
 
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PavellumPendulum

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MITENA IRONBLANKET
Hunter, leatherworker & helicopter parent

Interactions: Noah @MiharuAya Piper @Hecatoncheires Jeremiah @Jenamos
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Mitena was no stranger to the sheriff's office, especially in recent times. Unfortunately, their relationship with the sheriff was not quite as warm as it used to be. They hadn't often faulted Sheriff Hartman for his mistakes, whether it be arriving a moment too late to stop a bar brawl or making people stew in anxiety while he sorted things out, but the lack of action regarding the disappearances had been too much. It'd become personal then, when Pala had been ripped away from them. Mitena couldn't stand his excuses, his tired face, his growing collection of cigarette ashes. If he was tired, how did he think Mitena felt? What about all the other family members, left behind to rot, to fester, to drown in Aurora?

The office was different, though, like a copy that had been made without checking the reference. Most of the major elements were there, but things were off. The windows were all boarded up from within, thick boards of wood completely obscuring them from the outside world. Where there was normally a name plate on the sheriff's personal office door, there was nothing but a metallic sheet, attached firmly to the surface. Various doors were boarded up as well, with the only ones left accessible being the aforementioned office and... The way to the singular, unisex bathroom.

Had Sheriff Hartman somehow dragged them all out of the water? But how could he, a single man do that? Maybe he'd had help from other villagers who hadn't been involved in the search party... Mitena felt their mind ache, trying to piece everything together. The others waking up was both reassuring and distracting, Mitena trusted them to check on each other while they wracked their mind for answers. Amber's muttering wasn't helping much and neither was the anxious chatter now filling the room...

A creature of comfort, Mitena slipped over to the pile to gently pull out their shawl. Even though it was soaking wet, they didn't want to investigate further without it. Thankfully, with Piper up and Abigail being checked for injuries, it wasn't too difficult to retrieve. Standing up properly now, they eyed the room, turning when they heard a soft voice ask if they were okay. Noah's normally pleasant, placid face was paler than usual, wet hair pressed against his forehead, his fist clenching the cross around his neck.

Mitena wondered if any gods were watching them, in that moment.

"I'm alright. Thank you." they replied gently, frowning as they looked out to the rest of the group, "I'm hoping everyone else is alright as well." Even the ones that they could not see at the moment.

Jeremiah asked aloud if anyone thought they'd been through a wormhole, if things were different. His eyes were on the deputies in particular, but Mitena chimed in, expression grim. "This place isn't right. ... Even if the sheriff brought all of us here somehow, why would he board everything up? And... And where is he?"

Eyes now on the door to Hartman's office, Mitena sent Piper an uneasy glance, approaching slowly. "... Do you think he might be in there?"

There were no sounds coming from behind the door. If he was, he was remaining silent.
 

Kuno

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Abigail Fieldman
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Slowly but surely, the smothering miasma of the river loosened its hold on Abigail Fieldman.

Caleb.

A flicker of consciousness stirred through Abigail’s form. Her body felt cocooned in a tight swaddle; the prickling of cold on her skin heralded a return to awareness, and soon a finger moved here, a foot moved there. Her brows twitched, a noise building in her throat.

Caleb.

Noise. Muted peals of noise surrounded her. Something hard was under her. And the river was–

“Abigail?”

“Caleb!” Abigail suddenly gasped, her eyes peeling open.

It was a rude awakening for her lungs. Involuntary coughs rendered her speechless as she bowed in on herself, expelling whatever it was that weighed her lungs down. Gasping, she propped herself up on her elbows, shoving wet tendrils of hair away from her face as she looked around, wild-eyed.

Her son was nowhere in sight. It was Mitena who had called her name; Abigail cottoned onto them propped up on a desk before glancing away, blinking rapidly. They were in an old room with a desk and filing cabinets braced against the walls. Abigail sat in the center of it, but as she turned about, her chest creaking in protest, she saw others getting up from the same floor she’d been laying.

No, not just others. The rest of the search party, the – she knew all of them. It was Mitena and Piper and Amber. Sebastian over there by Victor, who God looked alright. There was Noah and Jeremiah, and Dominic over by–

A raucous cough interrupted her thoughts, and she sat up fully.

“Wh–what the hell is this?” Abigail finally managed to crow, agitated. “What is this?”

As if any of them would know. But it’d never stopped her from talking before.

And it certainly never stopped her as she rose to her feet, wet shoes squeaking against the floor as she looked to where Mitena focused their attention: Sheriff Hartman's door. They were postulating some theory about the man bringing them all down there himself. Abigail herself was too disorientated to question it.

But yet again, nothing like that had ever stopped her from talking before.

"We have to get in, then. Maybe we can push the door through," Abigail suggested.


 
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TerraBooma

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Amber Hartman
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After about half a minute, Amber was finally able to pull herself from the garbage can. Her tumultuous stomach had yielded everything that it was going to toss, and she'd recorded all of her thoughts into the possibly broken recorder. All the thoughts that she could get out into the digital age, at least the ones she could externalize Internally, the cryptic cryptic connoisseur was wracking every element of her mind for some form of understanding. Literal, objective proof of the reality of the supernatural. It had bewitched the entirety of the hunting party, and thrown them all into the river.

And now only ten of them or so were even left. The others were gone- Chesh was gone, and Amber felt a sinking stone in her stomach as she'd been helpless to prevent it. This was supposed to be her thing. She'd been angling this from the start. What wasn't she thinking? If she could've slipped the mind control, she could've tried half a dozen things to free the others. Pain stimulus, restrained, she'd even pray if it gave them a better chance. Give them knowledge. Knowledge was power, wasn't it?

But now they were powerless. And it was her fault.

It couldn't be a ghost. None of the spirits she knew about were so powerful as to control the entire group at once. Vampires would have taken them as chattel, and the domineering call and response left them far too aware of their fate for it to be a siren. So what was the angle here? What was the path? The supernatural had rules, she'd dedicated her life to understanding the fantastical, and the first time that the town actually needed her skills, she lost her tongue? This was your chance Amber. To prove that the ASDC was more than just a club full of misfits. Troublemakers and ruffians. That she could be a good influence for someone younger. That it wasn't a waste.

That your passion wouldn't just be a waste of time. Or a disappointment to dad.

Was it Fey?

It couldn't not be Fey, right? It wasn't mischievous, but maybe it was some dark Unseelie spirit. Enthrall them in their domain? It was a scramble, it didn't make sense. She knew that deep down. But it was one thing she hadn't considered before now. Some alternative arrangement. Fey defenses; Watch their words, Don't eat anything. Reverse your clothes...

The now empty-stomached woman looked down at her plaid jacket. That was something she could do. It might not mean anything, but any shred of defense would help. Right? There had to be something. Some kind of tool or expertise. She could be useful, right? Putting her potentially broken recorder back into her breast pocket, she affixes her toque back onto her plan. An actionable plan. She could work with that. Reverse her clothes, then get investigating. Dad's files were a good place to start. There always were.

But first; protection.

Sauntering over to Piper, the Amateur Investigator clears her mouth, trying to attract the Deputy's attention without forcing the jumpy fighter to twist at the sudden movement behind her. "Pipes. I er...Deputy Hewlett. I know it's tense. But we should ascertain whether this is a mirror world or an alternate dimension before risking aggressive options. If our doubles are present, they might not be specifically hostile." The woman frowned for a moment, she had to ascertain if this was even the real Piper...though standing up and drawing her firearm immediately was a good first indication. She bounced on the balls of her feet, balancing as she tried to find her footing in the room.

"Pipes, what's the password? For situations just like this. ASDC staple."

The ASDC had a longstanding (she thought of it last month) tradition (she sometimes remembered it) of accounting for doubling and doppelganger situations. The natural consequence of this was, of course. That they'd be completely prepared to catch any attempted body snatchers or replacers off guard. Naturally, as a non-member of the ASDC, Real Piper would have no idea what the password was.

Yet, if this was a mirror dimension, she'd obviously know the password. It was foolproof.

Glancing around at the others as she waited for an answer, Amber decided to lend her voice to the room. "Just don't go too far everyone. We'll want to sit tight. Everything's a bit wrong- some kind of mirrored version of our reality. Might be a good idea if people try to stick with one of the deputies or myself since...y'know. We know the office best." With that, she motioned back at the bathroom.

"I don't think this is ghosts and I've ruled out most undead. But Fey are still on the table. Try and avoid any suspicious questions, watch what you say. And...maybe reverse your clothes. It tends to mess with them. I can't speak to the efficavy, Fey aren't my strong suit. But if there's even a chance its them...protection is worth it." With that, she gave Piper a confident nod.

"I could use that gun if you're still aiming to point it at things Pipes. Can we check the bathroom? I want to swap my clothes around but I'd rather...not show everyone." She didn't stress exactly who she wanted to avoid stripping down in front of, but it seemed to be pointed at someone; just...vaguely. "After that, let's crack the files. We need to find out what happened to the others; Chesh has gotta be out there somewhere."

She wasn't going to let her club down. Her town. Her Dad.

She couldn't.
 

MiharuAya

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Noah Anderson
Location: Police Station
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The moment that Jeremiah awoke, Noah inhaled a relieved breath. Even though he still wasn't all too familiar with everyone, he still was quite worried about their well-being. The thought of losing another life after the town had already lost so many, would be a heartbreaking tragedy. They had set out to find out what had happened to the lost, not become one themselves. But he was beyond grateful to God for watching over them.

Noah hurriedly picked up Jeremiah's glasses, handing them carefully to the man before helping him to his feet. After making sure that the man was steady, Noah began looking around the office more closely. It really was strange how everything seemed boarded up. Wouldn't a public building like this be better maintained and open to the public, he wondered.

While the others began to discuss the various possibilities, Noah was at a loss for words. It seemed that the group was already speculating not only on foul play, but also had come to some odd conclusions. From the supernatural to things straight out of science fiction movies. What's more concerning, was the seriousness of the tone in which they spoke.

Wormholes? Feys? Did they hit their heads, he worriedly thought to himself. "Are you sure there isn't a more rational explanation for this?" He hesitantly spoke, glancing toward Amber. This was certainly a stressful situation, but speculating with all these crazy theories certainly wouldn't help.

As he walked towards the window, a finger lifted the blinds to create an opening. As Noah leaned close and peeked out of the window, he saw that it too was boarded up with wood. A troubled look caused his brows to furrow as he stood, trying to think of a reason someone would do this.

After a moment, he gave up and continued looking around. Noah decided to look for some kind of storage closet, anything that might have towels or blankets that they could use to dry off with. Sure, a police station would have those. Though, as he started going down the hall he found that each door he came to were also locked and boarded up.
 
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MiharuAya

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Sebastian Chambers
Location: Police Station
Interactions: Victor @MaryGold
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When Victor suddenly opened his eyes and spoke, A relieved smile pulled at Sebastian's lips. "Welcome back to the world of the living…probably." He responded, offering a hand to help the other to his feet. Though, he could tell that Victor looked a bit rough, so he wasn't sure if he would accept. "That's a good question," He answered, glancing around at the strangely ominous sheriff's office.

Once Victor seemed stable, he gave the man a nod and stepped away to explore. Sebastian began wandering around the main area of the office, aimlessly searching for something that even he wasn't sure of. His eyes scanned over the desks, trying to assess if any of them had been changed in any way. Though, it was difficult to tell.

When he reached his own desk, he pulled out his chair and sat down. With a deep sigh, he immediately got the feeling that something was off. Although this was supposed to be a familiar place, it just wasn't. As he started to listlessly flip through the files on his desk, he decided to see if he could log into the computer. As he pressed the power button, he waited for the screen to light up.
 

Jenamos

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JEREMIAH
Mitena confirms his suspicions — this isn't the sherrif's office of their town, despite their immediate impressions. With how vocal Mitena has been with the police in the search for their missing brother, he trusts their ability to accurately 'spot the differences,' if you will. "So this really must be an alternate reality," he posits, trying not to let his blood run cold with the possibility. Noah's hesitancy is understandable, but what other explanation is there? Amber is certainly offering some interesting alternatives, but he's never been one to believe in monsters.

Every supposed sighting of a supernatural creature has turned out to be demonstrably false. Ghosts, though, are much harder to explain away. Whether due to the existence of a soul, or some other force, it seems clear to him that humans carry energy not easily defined by science as it stands. Just like other energy in the world, when a human passes, that energy has to travel somewhere. Why can't it linger around in a way that others would call a "ghost?"

The scientific community barely contests the existence of wormholes and alternate universes; therefore, the likelihood that this is some example of that is much higher than Fey or what have you. Then again, it doesn't exactly explain that spell they'd all been put under...

"Well, unless some local theatre kids decided to pull the most elaborate prank in history on us, I'd say there isn't a more rational explanation," he sighs, fiddling with his glasses. "We were all quite obviously entranced by whatever called out to us in the woods. Nothing rational can explain that unless some scientist has finally unlocked true hypnotism and an experiment went awry. The only explanation we have left is something paranormal."

"This is insane," Mr. Casella mutters, scrubbing his face with his hands. "Well, we ought to start working on trying to find a way out of this place, first," he says, looking around. His gaze catches on the nearby unisex bathroom. "I guess I'll start there since no one else is," he says, heading toward the room.

If there is a way out. Also, that's presuming that the world outside isn't worse than whatever this place is. He doesn't vocalize his thoughts for fear of imbuing even more fear in everyone's hearts. Taking the man's advice, he walks around the area, his first instinct being to rifle through the desks. If they can't find any clues regarding what the hell is happening, they might at least find some useful tools.
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MaryGold

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VICTOR
Tired Father & Cool Teacher™
It didn't take long for Victor to register that they were all there and well. Or as well as anyone in their predictament could be. Abigail had found her voice again and rather quickly, which was a sign that they were still themselves. That they had control of themselves again. The sick feeling of dread and fear that intermingled inside of him before they lauching into the river still lingered on him. But he did his very best not to let it control him.

Inhaling deeply, Victor pushed himself up from the floor slick with water. Too bad whatever supernatural force landed them in the sheriff's office of all places did not bother to dry them too. He pushed back his wet hair from his face, stopping it from sticking to his forehead and blocking his vision. He could see well enough many of the others were trying to push their way into the sheriff's door.

The discussion at hand was ... Victor decided to stay silent. He was in the middle of disbelief, same as the priest, because it was so much easier to accept. But his gut disagreed even if his mind didn't. However, It didn't matter what he believed to have brought them there. What mattered the most was getting home. Home to his daughter who was probably staying up past her bedtime because her sitter was soft. His daughter was more than likely waiting for him to come home because there had never been a night in his life that he hadn't.

He was not as keen to look for answers in any other room just yet. Not when he had not fully taken a look at the current room they were in. Victor walked around the desks, checking for the name tags that should have sat on them. The names of friends who he grew up with and around. For any sign that they had been here. And if they hadn't, then signs of someone or something else.

"Do you notice anything . . . diffrerent?" His question was directed at Sebastion in particular. Sure they had all been in the Sherriff's office plenty of times for both pleasant and more recently unpleasant reasons and noticed subtle differences. But would;dn't suggestion pick up on the most?
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PavellumPendulum

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AT THE DOOR...
MITENA. PIPER. ABIGAIL.


The door was assembling its own fanbase, it seemed. Things were crowded already, with Piper, Mitena and Abigail all taking up the limited space. It truly was strange that the door was closed, since usually, Hartman kept it open unless he was doing something particularly important that required privacy. As much of a hardass as he was at times, he tried to keep open communication with his employees, or at least he had tried to, until all of this mess had begun to spin Aurora into a tangled knot. From then on, it was all heavy sighs and a distant look in his eyes, despite his efforts to keep things under control. Up close, the three would smell the faint hint of cigarette smoke, though none of them would be able to tell if it was simply lingering from his last smoke or if he was currently within, smoking away, ignoring their confusion.

Abigail suggested pushing the door. Mitena drew their lips into a frown, fingers snaking down to the doorknob and rattling it. Of course, it couldn't have been that easy to open. The damn thing wouldn't even turn. Still, their eyebrows knitted together, fingers trailing away, a spark of confusion on their face. "It's hot..." they murmured, letting go of the doorknob now. The rest of the door was cool to the touch, the weird addition of the metal sheet mimicking it, but somehow, the doorknob was uncomfortably warm. Weird. Their fingers pressed against the metal sheet now, running along the sides, before they felt a slim opening at the top. They craned their head to look at it. "... There's a slot here."

They were even more confused now.

"I suppose we could... Kick it down? It seems quite thick though..." Mitena voiced their obvious hesitation, though their eyes trailed to Piper. If any of the three of them was going to handle this, it would be her, would it not? She was the most physically apt and surely she'd had some experience kicking down doors before...

AT THE DESKS...
VICTOR. SEBASTIAN. JEREMIAH.


There were only around four desks in the main working area. It wasn't as if Aurora had a booming population, so the need for police had never been very high, until recent times. Most of the desks would look fairly normal to Sebastian, who was there practically every day of the year, with only slight changes popping up. A desk that typically had a long lasting stain, one they'd never been able to get out, was perfectly clean. A scuff mark on the ground, burnt into the tapestry that was the history of the station, was gone, like it'd never existed. Some of the papers on his desk were now jibberish, looking normal at first glance, but delving further into the paperwork showed that it was scrambled, as if someone who did not know how to construct proper sentences had filled it out.

The report he'd had tucked aside from the morning, for one of the missing children, Lorena. A student of Jeremiah's. The missing person's report had been properly penciled in when he'd last seen it, but now, it was barely legible. This was still his handwriting, but all of the sections were incorrectly done. Under age, the scrawl said 'coffee' and as for the checkboxes for ethnicity, all of them were scribbling in hastily, marking her as every possible ethnicity under the sun. Under 'Scars, marks and other identifying traits', the words babbled on, the same run-on sentence, over and over again.

she's answering she's thirsty she's thrashing She's so so adorable the burning sun the burning clouds the burning grass the burning eye the burning

All of the other paperwork that Jeremiah found was similar in nature. Rambling, incoherent and often disturbing, even if they weren't missing persons reports. He found paperclips, coffee cups, pens and pencils, rubberbands... Unless any of that was useful to him, he returned to the other two emptyhanded. Unfortunately for Sebastian and Victor, they were not having much luck either. Though the computer initially began to whir to life, the sounds of it starting up beginning to play, it did not offer them much more than that. The screen remained black.

IN THE HALLWAYS...
NOAH.


The station wasn't that large. Noah roamed, though he soon found himself back where he'd started, with not much to show for it. The walls had anti-bullying posters and other flyers set up, for those who visited to see, but they shared no secrets with him. All doors were locked and barricaded beyond belief. He did manage to pass by an office supply closet that had been miraculously left open, but he would find no towels in there, beyond paper napkins used for events and outings. Stickie notes, foolscap, staplers and holepunchers greeted him, but unfrortunately, nothing else.

IN THE BATHROOM...
AMBER. DOMINIC.


The bathroom was near the entrance to the police station. There was only one, but at the very least, there were two stalls within. It smelled both damp, musty AND oddly sterile and citrusy fresh, likely due to poor cleaning habits. They could attempt to mask the smell, but it only amplified the uncomfortable aura of it all. The walls were tiled, the floor linoleum, bits of paper towels scattered around the large garbage bin near the singular sink. The mirror was faintly cracked, a thin line stretching violently across the lower right side of it, but it was nothing Amber had not seen before. She was the first to enter, with Dominic trailing in behind.

The stalls were grey and misshapen. The doors did not fit the gaps properly, so you could most definitely see too much of someone sitting within, if you stood in front of one. This was not the most wellkept area of the police station, that much was obvious. The first stall was normal. Just a toilet and a holder for toilet paper, as simple as simple could be. The second, however, had a new addition to it.

On the back wall, above the toilet, was a hole. It couldn't be much thicker than a skinny person's arm, agape as though someone had stolen a chunk of the tiling and the supports behind it. Peering within it revealed darkness, but at the end of it, glinted something small, unrecognizable without more light. In tiny scrawl above it, the letters spelled out 'PEACE OFFERING'.
 
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MiharuAya

Memento Mori
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
Online Availability
My timezone is PST
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Futanari
Genres
Homosexual, Romance, Fantasy, Scifi, Magic, Vampire, Werewolf, Supernatural, Angels/Demons, Superhero, Zombies
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Noah Anderson
Location: Police Station
Interactions: None

As Noah gradually made his way around the police station, his feet moved slowly with each heavy step. His eyes scanned across the walls and the windows, trying to pick up any detail that might have been missed in the group's panic. At each door he came to, he tried the handle. But, not surprisingly, they were all blocked.

When he reached a door that was left ajar, he almost didn't believe it. He hesitantly peeked his head into the dark room, glancing around to make sure nothing was lurking inside. Once he was confident that it was safe, he stepped inside.

While Noah looked around, he was quickly disappointed to find that the closet was full of office supplies. Unless they planned to dry off using sticky notes, nothing inside would be of great use to them. With a disheartened sigh, he stepped back out of the small space.

Noah made his way back to the group, "I didn't find much in the way of supplies," He said to no one in particular. As he stood back, he watched as the group discussed possibly kicking the door down.
 

TerraBooma

Edgenoble
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Amber Hartman
Supernatural Investigator, ASDC


Musty. Damp. Sterile, and a right shitstain on the community. The faint smell of Citrus Lemon Febreze marking her dad's bimonthly commitment to " making the station a nicer place." The bathroom had always held a sort of malevolent air to it, and Amber had spent hours using her ghost box trying to pry some vengeful failed spirit longing for justice from its murdered past. She'd been unsuccessful, as she had with every method she'd tried to contact the hidden world. That was, until today anyway.

Amber breathed out a sigh of relief, not realizing she'd been holding her breath as she steps into the dingy restroom. Even in a mirror world, some things were still the same. Her Dad's bathroom sucking about as much as any criminal's was something of a constant, at least in Amber's eyes. Looks like the universe agreed. That or this wasn't a proper mirror world...alternate dimension Dad may have some other, far more malicious reason for occasionally spraying the bathroom with faintly nice smelling chemicals. Maybe they were meant to poison witnesses? It'd be a pretty brutal way to go, to die in the bathroom of the Sheriff's office. Very nefarious of you, alter-dad. But you'd be outfoxed today.

"Be careful what you touch, we don't know what this place is made up of." She explained to Dominic as he came in. It wasn't exactly who he was hoping to follow her in, but she'd work with whatever impromptu member she could get in a now struggling ASDC. Recruitment did need to boost if she was going to have the manpower she needed to save her two missing companions.

She opened the stalls one at a time, checking the contents within before she dared risk committing to anything while inside. It was a scientific fact that 30% of monster attacks happened while someone was using the bathroom. Those sorts of numbers were the kind you just didn't take risks with. She was careful to open the stalls too, pushing each one open with the bottom of her shoe so as not to risk the rest of her clothing on any possibly lingering poisoned chemicals.

In the second stall there was...something. Amber frowned, knowing it was probably dangerous, but thrusted forward by her journalistic integrity and thirst for any answers she might be able to get her hands on. "Hey, bossman, there's something in here." She'd started calling him bossman when he hired Cheshire. Some kind of knock on honorific of her friend being under his employ. The younger woman squinted and tried to peer into the hole- hard to tell what it was either way, it was pretty far back. Only way to get it was to find something to pull it out, or stick your hand inside. Not...an ideal prospect given the weight of the situation. Sticking your hand into a mystery hole in a bathroom was usually a bad idea. Let alone in a mirror world.

As her mind raced, her eyes flickered down to the scrawl on the wall. A peace offering huh. Amber's face settled into a small pout as her brain ran the numbers. Mimicking a military commander ordering her squad around, Amber brought up a fist to signify that Dom should halt whatever he was doing. Regardless of if he was watching or not.

"Holdup. It says its a peace offering. That's not good. I wouldn't touch it." Amber slowly backed away from it as if it was an irradiated rod of death. She gave Dom a quick nod before moving into the other stall, carefully closing it before she started changing her clothes. It was a simple process, flipping her jeans, her top, and her toque inside out. But it could measure some degree of protection...something well worth the risk if it paid off, despite the inconvenience. As she changed, she carried on her conversation with a perturbing sense of ease and comfort for someone flipping their clothes inside out in a supernatural recreation of her dad's work's bathroom.

"See, it says peace offering, right? So there's only a few outcomes. Either it's a trap, so that's bad. Or it's a peace offering from someone else who got kidnapped. That means they left something behind for a monster or something. That's pretty neutral. Might be a bad idea to take it away since its meant to play nice. But I dunno." She shrugged, not that Dom would be able to see. "The only other thing I can think of is it's one of the locals leaving a peace offering to one of us, since we all got dropped in one spot. Normally, that'd sound like a good thing, right?" He'd be able to hear her raise her finger, her hand on her hip, a single finger wagging with disapproval. "Wrong. The Fey deal in gifts all the time, but they're never free. There'll be some sort of consequence to taking stuff without knowing what we need it for. That's why I think we should leave it here." She grunted, hopping as she tried to shove her jeans back on- stupid uncooperative wet clothing. "That...stupid jeans...is the leading ASDC theory. Fey world. Any questions?"