socrowdedinhere | (no subject)

(no subject)

Who: Sam, Noemi, Rick, and Hellboy
What: Something terrible is happening, and Sam ends up with two (of the three) best paranormal investigators on the case to help her out.
Where: Various
When: Late spring 2022

Sam had decided to take Noemi on a little vacation. So long as she keeps Noemi's anchor item, a lovely little paperweight, bundled safely in her backpack, Sam can take her friend to places, and, at a signal, let the spirit of the young lady take control to see things for herself. They're two days into things.

Noemi is in control of Sam's body, enjoying the sights and sounds around her as she chats quietly with Sam in her head (in English! She wants to practice as much as possible!). She's having so much fun, and will cherish the memory forever for sure!

The good feelings don't last, though. A low rumble trembles in the air. No one else seems to notice or react, but Noemi stops, hands coming up to grip her head. Sam will sense the sharp pain Noemi feels just before the girl let's out a blood curdling shriek. This tattooed woman stopping in the middle of everything, hands to her head, screaming at the top of her lungs, has the crowed moving away from her, staring, startled, and unsure of what to do or what the problem is.

(No, no, no, no.) Noemi's voice is full of panic and pain, and plenty of confusion. She doesn't know what's happening, but it hurts! (S-sam....h-help!) The scream stops as her hold on Sam slips, leaving Sam in control of her body once more.

Sam will see Noemi's spirit for the first time outside of a dream. The ethereal image is faint, and will disappear from view quickly, but in that moment she looks like some stuntman in a movie being yanked backwards by a harness. Sam will be able to follow Noemi's aura as it disappears, not into her anchor item, but away through the crowd.

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Rick wasn't wholly sure he followed, but he'd roll with it, and for much the same reason - the whys around contact info took a backseat to the case at hand. So he just rattled off his cell phone number . . . confessing he didn't know if it'd work in Canada to just dial it as-is or if something else needed to be dialed first. His was an American-issued number, and he'd never been to Canada nor knew anyone from the country to know how calling worked. But as he waited for the address, live call still in hand, he busied himself with grabbing just what he figured he'd need for the case. Toiletries, changes of clothing, etc could stay in the room. At least he was checked in and could come and go as he needed now.

Sam assured him her number---and her calling his---would work as usual; dial 1, area code, personal number. "I've bounced back and forth a fair bit, never had an issue. North American Numbering Plan. If you ever have an issue trying to get me over the phone, though, email's giraffitifish@hotmail.com, replacing A with a four, every I with a one, and the S with a five. I'm going to bounce down to the lobby to wait for you, though. See you soon? You'll know me when you see me; tattoos, ratty jeans."

Rick frowned at the email address. "Hey, do me a favor? Text that to me too? Or email me - rick dot rogers at paranormal files - all one word - dot com. And I'm heading out now." She'd hear a door close as he exited into the hallway and headed for the elevators. "Tall, dark, and handsome for me. Leather jacket, navy pullover, blue jeans. I'm sure we'll find each other pretty easily. Okay, I'm at the elevator, so probably no more signal. I'll catch you soon." He'd pause long enough for her to have a last say, then hung up and slipped the phone into his pocket as the elevator doors slid open. He'd head straight for his rental car - red and sporty just like his own - and then to the other hotel. Once in the driver's seat, his phone came back out to serve as a GPS to get him there expediently.

“I'll email you while I'm waiting, might as well send one while you're expecting it.” Rick's description of himself prompted an amused little snort, and he'd hear Sam's smile in her “See you soon.” It wasn't even a real chuckle, but the momentary amusement was a welcome one.

10/10 cliche use. But a jacket over a pullover? It's only spring, sure, but how is he not baking in a bunnyhug and coat? A trivial question, especially in comparison to the long list of very pressing questions (was Noemi going to be okay? What the fuck had snatched her away? Why? Where was it now? Did it have a face to break? How would they find it? How would they get Noemi grabbed away from it? She'd used magic to make the wraithlike Alister-amalgamation solid enough to seize beneath her hands, could she haul Noemi to safety the same way?) but it wasn't like Sam could keep a thought from occurring to her. If she could... she wouldn't. A moment of 'wait, what?' was still a brief break from being worried. That worry would be plain on her face when Rick found her; a woman, his own age or a little older, with pretty features and ink everywhere. Neck down, one elbow up, one elbow out, lots on both legs, if the limited view her torn and run-riddled jeans afforded was an indication. She stood on seeing Rick, certain of him with the flash of what looked like recognition in his aura, and moved to meet him. She had a hitch in her step, present but not terribly pronounced, but walked without wincing.

“Hi.”

The pullover question would be answered as soon as she laid eyes on Rick. Under the open leather jacket, she'd spot what looked like a collarless polo shirt (specifically a type of men's pullover called a henley). The 'tall, dark, and handsome' would prove pretty accurate too. Most would find him quite the looker, with his olive skin (not quite as dark as Darnell's but still), short black hair, and a tall, rail-thin build that would undoubtedly remind her of Connor's.

She'd spot the recognition on his face and in his aura with a side of 'wow, she wasn't kidding,' but he strode up to her without hesitation and offered his hand. "Hey. Rick Rogers, paranormal investigator extraordinaire. You said you're Sam, right?" Pouch-something, Patch-something . . . he hadn't quite caught her last name and wasn't going to embarrass himself or insult her by making any guesses.

“That's right. Sam Patchowski, paranormal instigator, though I didn't start shit today.” It was with some relief and a small smile Sam shook the offered hand firmly. It'd give Rick a chance to note the notes on her hand went right up to the nailbed, while she studied the curious aspects of his aura. There was something up with his hand, and something up with him, and it was in those somethings her relief was rooted; they were signs her had an idea of what he was doing, and, maybe, had some unusual talents to employ. “My friend and I were minding our own business. Let's walk and talk? The lobby probably isn't the place to be as blunt as I'm inclined. In the same vein? Nice to meet you, shame about the circumstances.”

Rick couldn't help but note the first comment as much as the beautiful filigree-like lines of musical notations wrapping her arm from nails to elbow. "Instigator, huh?" That came out with a crooked smile, but he let it drop at that for now as she continued. "Same and same, and yeah, c'mon." Unless she had other plans, he'd head back to his car. "Take me to the place your friend was snatched?"

"To put it politely. We can unpack that when we've got a better time to sit down and talk skillsets, cause I got a feeling you've got an interesting one, too. Undoubtedly beneficial in your line of work, but you bet." Someone else might've felt more misgivings, getting into a car with a near-stranger, but being able to study an aura was an immense boon; the ghost-abducting entity had been a ball of unfriendly intentions, with a smattering of self-satisfaction, but Rick was concerned, interested, maybe hopeful, and... as friendly as he sounded, unless her ability to describe the entity's emotional atmosphere had tipped him off enough to con her very creatively. If the day was going to take a screaming left turn like that, she was probably better prepared than he was... but that 'if' wasn't helpful, and here Rick seemed sincere in his trying to be. "I can't remember the address, exactly, because I was distracted with reeling, but I can 'left, right, straight' you block by block to backtrack."

Rick flashed her a crooked, even charming grin - self-assured at the very least. "I've got a few aces up my sleeve when it comes to the paranormal." It was true that, on the surface, here was a young man possibly 'luring' a young woman into a potentially vulnerable position. But if his aura was anything to go by, this appearance didn't even occur to Rick. In his mind, he was working with a client, and he'd had clients in his car often enough during cases that it was an unconscious matter of course at this point. Even in another country.

Speaking of car, though, it's immediately obvious that this guy is a young man of means, even if the sports car was a rental.

"No problem. Lack of address is fine so long as you can find your way back."

And off they went.

Sam grinned back, nodding acknowledgement of the aces, now pretty sure her new friend was in the mix.

Or, at least, has one foot in the fire.

But then it was back to business, if with another aside: "Nice ride. It might take a few minutes of crusing for me to get my bearings, but if I misdirect us, I can google up the statue we'd been by. To start, though, a left as we're leaving the lot... and after that I'll be watching for something."

One foot still in after having managed to struggle his way out of the middle of it a few years ago now.

"Got it. I'll watch the road, you watch around it." And he'd maneuver for that first left.

Sam made a noise to agree, some offshoot of mmhmm, and set to studying what she could see of the city. It didn't take long to lay eyes on the little plaza she and Noemi had been standing in, now less populated as the afternoon crept towards evening and people were going home, picking up kids, starting supper. It didn't take much longer to find a place to park so they could walk over to the site of the separation. Though her lame right leg hampered Sam when she was hurrying, the pace of a quick walk was doable (if an effort) and she was eager to get the investigation going.

Rick followed Sam, noting the limp but letting her set the pace without comment. Once in place, he looked around, glad for the thinning throng. He wasn't ashamed or self-conscious of his abilities, but it could be a real pain to be driven to explain himself to someone predisposed to not believing him, so he usually tried to keep things fairly innocuous. Sam would only be able to see things in his aura - to anyone else, his actions were largely unnoteworthy.

Rick pulled down the right sleeve of his jacket with his left hand, focusing on his right palm and forearm till he could visualize the fiery energy racing through his blood vessels. He crouched on a knee and pressed his open palm to the concrete under his feet and spread throughout the plaza. Hand in place, he looked around, seeking any visions or impressions he could concentrate on and bring to himself to decipher.

The world around Rick will change in his mind's eye. Looking like it's made of slightly crinkled paper torn from a colorful children's book. He'll see Sam and the spirit of a teenage girl over her, indicating that the girl is possessing Sam. She's smiling and happy, looking around at the things and people around her with clear delight. Rick will also see what looks like some kind of... monster, a black, demonic creature moving through the crowd, clearly unnoticed as moves about, eyeing the people. The possessed Sam catches the creature's attention and it goes right for them. With unnaturally long claws it grabs the spirit in/on Sam and rips the spirit away, carrying it off in glee. It's clearly a painful process, as Sam's possessed body appears to scream for a moment before the spirit is ripped from body... and anchor object, which is apparently in Sam's backpack.

As the demon leaves the area with prize in hand is when Rick's mind will snap back to reality.

Sam watched with interest, but without comment; it seemed inconsiderate (and counter-productive) to distract Rick when he was doing something, intent arcing through his aura, and she could respect his process even if she didn't yet understand what, exactly, he was up to. It wasn't like adepts understood how other adepts worked, or could work, or why, but to say 'that's something else entirely' as an excuse to dismiss an approach, especially an approach that garnered results, was a sign of having no goddamn sense.

Whatever it was, what she saw was a first---and fascinating. The... foreign? aspect attached to Rick's arm---she thought; it looked like an addition, not natural, though she could've been wrong and he was just weird---brightened before flaring, and light, real light rose from beneath and around his hand for a moment. Following that illumination, Sam could see the emotional aspect of Rick's aura shift rapidly, from interest, to concern, to anger. She didn't say anything, still; however uneasily, she'd wait for Rick to finish and explain.

Edited 2022-05-13 06:32 (UTC)

Rick huffed a soft 'damn' before pushing back to his feet, tugging his sleeve cuff back into place. He didn't really learn anything new, which had been his hope, but at least he had some confirmations. "Well, you were right. Malicious. Smug. Definitely not human. I'd put my last penny on 'never was.' Whatever it is, though, must be pretty powerful to be able to completely rip her free of her anchor object." He'd been kind of looking around - if maybe a bit aimlessly, really - but turned to Sam to add. "She was in possession of your body at the time?"

Though she crossed her arms, Sam's attitude was open, expectant... even if she couldn't expect much in the way of good news following that 'damn.' She nodded at 'never was,' when Rick looked her way, and both eyebrows went up at what he asked when he turned to fully face her. “Actually... yeah. How'd you know? What was that you just did?”

"Got a quick glimpse into the past. Supernatural evils are my specialty, and I have a couple handy abilities to help with that. And . . . this is just a theory so far, but I think I might know what happened. I'm in town - I'm in country, in fact - to investigate a rash of people randomly dropping either comatose or dead with no warning and no explanation. That demon was hunting when it spotted you and your ghost friend. I think it may be behind what's been dropping other people completely. Witnesses have consistently reported seeing some kind of dark entity every time. It's gotta be this thing that attacked you guys. I think it's been pulling people's souls out of them, and with you guys, it saw an even easier-than-normal target." He turns up his hands with a shrug. "I'm not 100% on that, but I'd be willing to bet I'm at least onto something."

There was a lot to digest in that minute's explanation, but a venomous “This motherfucker,” slipped out even as Sam's brain turned to the possibilities adjacent to that conclusion. “This thing... might have bitten off more than it can chew this time. I have a few tricks, too. I think I can hurt it, and there's little I'd like better.”

Frowning---at the situation, much much more than her new ally---Sam turned her attention to Rick, studying the investigator, and his aura, anew. The unique aspects of his aura were still very interesting, but his response to what she'd said was of-interest, too. Not that she had said her whole piece, but the rest of her response might've been more the means to the end of throwing hands, and blasts, and iron, in addition to whatever was within arm's reach. “How many suspected victims? What's the range, like, location range? Any similar qualities?”

Rick, too, took a 'study new ally' moment. It wasn't his usual M.O. to work with another person - mostly for their sake but also one fewer person for him to have to look out for - but he'd partnered before, and it'd been advantageous. Usually. Mostly. (~~It'd gotten him body-swapped at one point, for instance, but even that turned out okay in the end.~~)

Sam was clearly pissed, but she was also clearly level-headed even in the heat of her fury, going by her questions. Tricks or not, she was ready for a fight, knowing the opponent was evil, knowing the opponent was supernatural. She believed in ghosts, had experience with ghosts, was apparently really close friends with a ghost. That alone put her ahead of the game in his eyes.

He nodded and turned for the car, motioning for her to follow. "C'mon. Everything I know so far is on my tablet. I haven't been able to glean much from it all, if only because I don't know the area, but maybe if we put our heads together, we can find a pattern or something." The tablet was actually in the backpack he had slung over one shoulder, but he preferred to get out of the public eye (and ear) to discuss things any further.

What Sam saw made her feel marginally better. There was the... well, moods could be complex, like looking at a weather system; concern remained a feature in Rick's emotional atmosphere, and it was most present when she or he made mention of another's well-being. The man cared, and seemed to be as determined as she was. She thought Darnell would like the guy; she'd decided she did.

“Kay. You want to head back to the Chateau? I've got a paper map of the city we can mark up, and some other stuff, and this could be a long conversation. I got a couple cokes in the fridge, too; we might need 'em.”

Rick nodded. "Sounds like a great idea. You hungry? We can pick up something on the way, too. Or get room service. I can cover it."

“You know... I could eat.” Though she sometimes threw herself into impression management, the smile Sam gave Rick at his question, and offer, was appreciative and sincere. “So I think I'll thank you, and take you up on the offer, cause room service is sounding great; we can get crackin' on the facts and our possible avenues of investigation that much faster.”

The adept hadn't forgotten the ritual debris left in her room's bathroom (the only windowless room she'd had available) but she wasn't bothered; if Rick asked about the phone books and bottle, the explanation of how she'd gotten hold of him was probably solid compensation for the food.

"Great! We've got a plan." Rick didn't know the city at large, but he'd driven from the Chateau to this plaza; he could find his way back easily enough.

They stopped in the lobby for Rick to give the desk his credit info for the room service (it'd actually be for all room charges, including the room itself - he's kinda hoping Sam doesn't notice, he just wants to be nice), then they'd head up to the room to start going over the map and his emails and notes.

It was a good plan, for the circumstances.

Sam didn't go far while Rick spoke with the clerk; she'd spotted a newspaper beside the pamphlet display at the other end of the counter, and leafed through it to see if it held anything of particular interest. (All of the letters she'd written to Noemi had improved her French reading comprehension, and she was pained a little with fresh worry for her friend.) It didn't, but by the time Sam was sure of that, Rick was ready to go. She led the way to her room, which wasn't in terrible shape, though it had clearly been occupied for a few days; brochures from outings had built up on the bedside table, some snacks had been stashed behind the TV, and the duffle bag on the desk had been half-emptied.

“The info card with the room service and stuff should be under the TV still, if you were wanting a look... I'm just gonna find that map. And, maybe, figure out what order I want to ask my questions in.” Papers in hand, Sam looked over to the investigator, another small smile on her face. “Mostly about what you know so far, some about you. I don't like to pry, but I'm a pragmatist. You and I will be able to work together better if we have an idea of what's up with each other.”