[The Smoke-Darkened Hills] Correspondence of Cause (Geoff, Cosgrave, Violet, Jen)

The light seems to be working!


Violet scrambles across the grass, reaching for the lamp Geoff almost made it to...


[dice]1671[/dice]
 
Violet





It's in your hands and ready to rock and roll!

Got it! You're after shadow boy.


Jen and Violet





Shadow collapses into itself with a horrendous, inhuman roar that rattles the windows. "That fucking HURT!"


It reels back, shrinking ever further back down, down to a man-shaped shadow ten feet tall, spindly limbs and those glowering cigarette burn eyes.


"I got what I came here for, but it's going to be your ass for that." Whispers slither out from the shadows all around you. Clancy stands dumbfounded, his wife clinging to him, both wincing at the brightness of the light. Something large wends across the paneling of the house. A titanic shadow. The pair trip and run their way behind you and the lights.


"Turn the lights off or my pet comes out to play."


Geoff





You're on your feet! What shall you do? You see all that is happening.
 
"What...." whispers Violet, "...what could it mean?"


She glances at Jen, frightened, uncertain of where to point the light next.


"Its pet? Pet?! How could this get worse?"
 
Jen Pyon


"Fuck if I know but I'm not shutting this off! Grab more or something. Gonna put his pet down like ol' Yeller"


Jen grits her teeth, trying to put up some semblance of bravery against whatever this thing was. Her skin is slick with sweat, each tattoo now glistening in the strange lighting.
 
Violet, Jen





It looms, waits. An intimation of hesitance as its 'pet' falters like a strobelit series of shadows. An old Nickelodeon of movement, desperately trying to manifest for its master. Shadowman roars in frustration. The lights are keeping it back.


You hear Clancy fling open the door of the shed, clatter around in there. "May have more!"

Violet is up! Roll your attack or whatever you wish to do! Dex + 3 dice, if you'd like to roll an attack with the lamp!
 
Geoff, now loose from the beast, scrambles his way toward the shed, doing his damnedest to hide in the pool of light. "Professor, if you find anything else in there, get one to me!"
 
Cormac





The stranger reaches out a finely fingered hand as if to touch your shoulder, thinks better, and returns the smile instead. "You look a little haggard... Have you been mugged?" He pulls a slim, wide smartphone out of his coat pocket. "I can call the police, man, get some help? You're in some obvious distress."
 
Geoff





One comes sailing out of the half-lit shed. "Hook it and burn that fucker!" An outdoor outlet is a hop-skip away, you'll plug in and be ready to rumble.

Initiative, please!
 
Violet aims at the shadows trying to form....something. Glancing sideways, she sees Clancy opening the shed.


"Cover all the area we can! Geoff! We need you!"


[dice]1736[/dice]


[dice]1737[/dice]
 
Geoff snags the light from mid-air and bolts toward the nearest socket, ready to light up a bitch.


[dice]1740[/dice]
 
Cormac Cosgrave





"No, really, it's fine. I'm just going to get home." Cormac replies, half-waving in a way between good-bye and dismissal, trying to get his bearings and head towards his apartment.
 
Geoff finds his wall outlet and plugs in, aiming the light right at Mr. Shadow Man.


[dice]1757[/dice]
 
Jen, Geoff, and Violet





Another hard flash of hard white light joins your own.


And then it comes rushing, urging, deep as the bones of the earth from somewhere in the black. The shadows bubble like painted wood in a fire.


"YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH! YOU SON-OF-A-FUCKING-BITCH!" Look at it reel back, staggering, the poor man's shadowplay of a burning man. A shadowy hand boils away into a vapor, stains the grass behind like a Hiroshima smear.


Its pet flees into the abyss from whence it came, burbling, huffing. Those eyes focus on each of you with hate, great and full-bodied. "This. This is a beginning, you little bastards. And you,"-it points directly at Violet-'heh, sleep tight."


And with cloud-like slowness, he drifts away, melding with the night itself until only those eyes remain, those pinpricks of orange light, fading into the sky. Melding with the stars.
 
Jen Pyon


"Sorry for making you...light headed! You fucking thing!"


Whooping, Jen keeps her light up. She shoulders it aggressively, searching for any signs of the things attacking us.
 
Jen


Not a thing. You can hear the hooping laughter from the living room. The Dean is taking people into the parlor for movies. Katie, the professor's wife, sits in one of the patio chairs, staring straight ahead, a crumpled, unlit cigarette couched in her pale lips. More of Clancy's gnomes stand at attention in the garden. The trees whisper to one another as branches clash in a light breeze.


A quiet, peaceful night in a little slice of a Americana.
 
Cormac Cosgrave





"Excuse me?" He says, turning, narrowing his eyes a little at the stranger. Cormac is not, to put it bluntly, inclined to dismiss further occult terribleness tonight.
 
Geoff heaves a sigh of relief, letting his light hang somewhat limply. He groans at Jen's pun. "That was awful, Jen. I'm sorry, but it was." He looks up at her and manages to crack a smile, regardless.
 
Cormac





The man is walking away, leisurely tapping his cane as if keeping a beat. Tap. Tap. Tap.





"You know precisely what I mean, professor." He'll stop, rifles around in his pockets, turn to you and in the light of the street lamp, flick a thick coin at you. Heliographs its way to your feet. "For your thoughts. And, perhaps, other worries."
 
Violet


"Is...it is over?"


She stands unmoving for a few moments; the exchange between Jen and Geoff suddenly reminding her where she is, and the light in her hands. Slowly, she lowers it.


"I....what should we do about Professor Wong?" she asks; mainly directing it at Clancy.
 
Cormac Cosgrave





He watches the man go, then leans down and picks up the coin, turning it over in his hands, looking for symbols and signs.
 
Geoff looks at Clancy as he goes by. He heaves a huge sigh. "Your biggest concern, eh, Professor?" He gives no indications of sarcasm. No smile, no laugh, no nothing.
 
Cormac





An old coin. American, you're sure. Age and grit and weathering has worn it, but still you see the luster of gold. A woman's time-worn face capped with a pileus. The backside scratched out with a file.


Distantly, between the taps of his cane. "Keep it."
 
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