Realistic or Modern Welcome To Shearport

[The Fuzz]

The Black Lantern B&B


(Reasonable Rates, Private Rooms Available, Beachfront Access)


One of the Lantern's two private rooms (lace curtains! Hideous bedspreads! Porcelain doorknobs!) is occupied by an elderly couple who are booked up to the end of the week. Apparently they're having fun.


Otherwise, the two big bunkrooms out the back are currently empty and will remain that way for the next couple of days. Opportunity for some maintenance, could be. Ayuh.


The Shearport Watchman has some interesting headliners across the front page. Now, the woods are probably not being stalked by a giant bat-thing snatching children, but there is certainly a stormfront rolling in. The storm shutters need to be fixed, and someone should probably have a word with the gutters.


There's also a shipment from the wholesaler due in this afternoon. Fifty pounds of muesli aren't going to hump themselves into the pantry. At least the fridge will be full of some very surprised chicken, accompanied by bacon, milk and eggs. The food around here is a bit of an all day breakfast.


There's a bunch of hikers booked in to arrive tomorrow evening, they want bunkroom one, all ten bunks. They will, presumably, be dragging boots and rucksacks and maps and things. They might also want to use the internet, so someone needs to do battle with the router. The bloody thing is on the fritz.


It's also a good thing that the folks staying here can't see into the Hedge. The pitter patter of tiny feet is usually a sign of babbies! However, the particular tiny feet pitter pattering through the local Hedge (coming actually quite close to the hostel) leave sharp, narrow, clawed footprints. Shit is uncanny.


It's a beautiful bloody morning.

 

[risaphoeniix]

Lita the Magpie


Lita is crouched on the edge of the roof, squinting against the sunlight. She sniffs at the air for a second, enjoying the scent of salt on the breeze, before jumping back up. Big orange plastic scoop in hand she walks along the roof to the next section of gutter. Or, more accurately, arms out to her sides she walks along the edge of the roof.

 

[Axelgear]

Sackcloth


Such a lovely couple, Robert mused to himself as he stalked quietly through the halls and out through the back door. Such a sweet old dears; there was something wonderful about the sort of people who, when they reached a certain age and were secure in their retirement, found time to appreciate everything. Everything in the world was beautiful and new to them. He'd left them some hot scones outside their door, with a note saying he hoped they'd enjoy them.


That was earlier in the morning, of course; he'd been hard at work since. Been hard at work since before the sunrise, as he always was; getting the heating adjusted, putting his tools together, checking his list of to-dos and needs-to-be-dones. The bunk room electrics had to be tested, the bunks checked to make sure they didn't squeak and grumble, the sheets changed and ready, the faucets checked, the bathrooms cleaned... It'd feel good when it was all in order.


As he crept across the grass between the inn proper and the bunk dorms, the morning chill makes the fuzz on his fabric stand on end. Glancing towards the sunrise, he squints as best as one can with glass eyes, raises a hand, and pauses briefly to take in a deep breath. A look around. A turn of the head up to the rooftops, to spy that ruddy great crow that's always bloody up there.


Still... Gotta give her a hand there; up bright and early, too, getting a job done. The little craftsman raises a hand to his mouth and gives his best morning lark call he can manage. Were it to get her attention, he sets two fingers to his brow in a half-salute, gesturing to her before he carries on his way to get to work.


Ah, work... Makes life worthwhile...

Spoiler

[dice]2547[/dice]

 

[risaphoeniix]

• IC
• OOC

• 
  
  
  Lita the Magpie
  
  
  Lita, spying the patchwork man, waved energetically from where she balanced on the corner of the gutter, right above the drain pipe. With a jangle of bangles she grabbed a stick and started poking at some particularly stubborn leaves. She wasn't in a rush to finish. Once she did Mrs. Lincoln would probably have something else for her to do. And it would probably be less fun.
  
  
  If it had occurred to her, she might have dwelt on the fact that this week marked the end of her first year in Shearport, a year since the night that the inn's caretaker and hostess had found the shivering magpie girl stumbling around, trying to remember how legs worked and what words were.
  
  
  But it didn't occur to her. As far as she was concerned she was here, here is where she was, and aside from the fact that she hadn't managed to find her wings yet, she quite liked it. The air smelled nice, she had her nest, there was a store that had lots of sweets and she always found lots of interesting things lying around. Now if she could just figure out where her wings went...
  
  
  Finally freeing the clump of leaves from the drain pipe, Lita tossed the stick off the edge and ran lightly, hopping up to the upper level of the roof.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  I'm sort of imagining a lower roof and then a gable providing a good way to climb up to the rest of the upper roof (maybe a second floor where the private rooms are?) I reckon that with 4 Dex and 5 Athletics with a specialty that she should be able to manage it.
  
  
  

 

[Grey]

Lucas Hood





Here we go again, Hood thinks, a single, tiny, brown leaf coming away in his hand as he runs it through his hair. He climbs out of the car, puts on his hat, and strides toward the Lantern. Now, what is on my list... And then, he hears a whistle, squints.


"Robert!" He calls. "Morning! Gotta minute?"

 

[The Fuzz]

--> Lita





You easily grab this ledge here and that bit of eave there and hoist yourself up, but...


What's that? That thing, there? There's a thing. It's in the gutter, and while it's covered in muck, there's a shiny glint to it. Yep. Definitely shiny. Kinda goldy looking.


--> Sackcloth





That is some piercing whistling, right there. Ouch. Good stuff.


However....oh. Oh, for fuck's sake. Three of the storm shutters are rotting where the paint has flaked off, you're going to need to replace them.


A handyman's job is never bloody well done.

 

[Axelgear]

Sackcloth


Robert cannot help but smile as he gets the wave in return. Well, it certainly perks his morning up a little to get so exuberant a greeting. As he turns away, he cannot help but feel a little warmed by the friendly hello and the orange sunlight. Maybe the magpie isn't so ba-


CLONK


The casually disregarded stick bounding off the roof and smacking him in the back of the head does much to dissuade Robert of his previously cheery mood. Grumbling up a storm, swallowing some curses, he is halfway through an exaggerated wind-up to hurl the wood at the easily distracted creature before his attention is snapped up by the arrival of the woodsman. Quickly forgetting his momentary vendetta, Robert unwinds and drops the missile back to the dirt.


"Oh, Master Hood! Pleasant morning to you too!" He calls back. "Was just on my way to start fixin' up the bunk-houses. Somethin' I can do ya for?"


A gesture with a thumb over his shoulder with one hand, a pat on his tool belt with the other. Though the shirt he's wearing is new - a comfortable earthy brown affair - his tattered jeans and tools say that he is on his way to work. On his left breast is the only thing likely to be unstained and unsullied by the day's end; a pleasant little name tag that reads "Robert Free".

 

[Grey]

Lucas Hood





Hands in pockets, Hood ambles over. "No master here, Robert," he says, manages a thin smile. "No masters anymore."


He looks up at the roof, out to the bunks, and then back at Sackcloth. "You need any help bracing for the storm? Not exactly in the job description, but..." He lets it hang. His Oath is not unknown. The badge of office on his rainproof jacket almost seems to stand out in testament. 'To Conserve And Protect' picked out in shiny silver, behind one trailing green moustache that's starting to brown like the vines in his hair.

 

[Axelgear]

Sackcloth


"No sense in ever turnin' away a kindness." Robert answers simply and cheerfully, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head where the stick whacked him. When Lucas gets close, his gaze naturally lowers to the ground a moment, taking time to adjust to the presence before he can meet any sort of stare half-directly. He lets the period pass by returning his eyes to the bunk-houses, scouring them for every sign of rot and weakness.


"Looks like there's been some rain leaking in where the paint's chipped... We've got some spares, I think. If not, I'll have to make them. Either way, got to get the old ones down before the weather turns nasty. Don't want 'em turnin' into projectiles." He asserts, once his assessment is complete. Shifting his stance, he gestures for Lucas to follow him towards the windows; the bunk-houses are bungalows, so thankfully there's no need for any ladders. It's a simple matter for one of them to brace the shutter while the other undoes the screws holding it to the hinge.


"So, what brings you up our way this early in the morning? Surely not to help ol' sack-an'-stuffin' me fix some windows, eh?"

 

[Grey]

Lucas Hood





Bracing a shutter in vaguely clawed fingers, Hood shrugs.


"Matter o' fact, that's mainly it - though I mean to check in at the desk if you got hikers or the like comin' in."


He looks out, towards the forest, out of town.


"And to ask if anyone with the means of seein' 'em has seen those tracks..."

 

[PixelWitch]

Zach


It always flickers. The pantry lightbulb. It always flickers.


It drove him mad sometimes, trying to read the inventory list with it's periodic lapses into darkness. Usually a good thump on the wall was enough to set it right at least.


He grumbles as it shorts out again, causing his hand to smear the writing he was jotting down.


THUMP


And it's back again.


So. Bacon is sorted, chicken... need to get those crates of fruit in the kitchen sorted... what was I... oh yeah, spuds.


He turns, setting the list back in the holdster and canters back towards the door, head dipping momentarily to check the mousetraps under the shelves. Empty. Always good to see.


The bag of ruddy potatoes sat like a lumpy fat child on the kitchen floor. He carried it with about as much grace as one. Next, fruits. Resisting the urge to nick one as it took its place on the shelves too.


Perfect. So I have enough space for the musli once it arrives. Floor's been mopped, and the fridge has finally been cleared of that old milk smell. He surveys the kitchen, it's decor not exactly to his taste, but eh, there are worse things.


Shit, tables need set. Forgot that...

 

[Axelgear]

Sackcloth


"Hikers, probably tomorrow." answers Sackcloth as he pulls a screwdriver from his belt, setting to work. The moment his hands touch tool and wood, his gaze becomes a little more narrow and fixated, and the hands that seem as though they might only be soft and good for naught save clumsy labour show a hidden dexterity that surpasses most mortal ken. Immediately, they set to work with the tools - with, rather than using - and a subtle rhythm begins to form in the patter of work. Even Lucas would find himself moving, bracing, and working to a tune that subtly insinuates itself even when not sung.


"Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins; bought a pair of brogues rattlin' o'er the bogs..." Sackcloth mumbles quietly as they heft down the first shutters and move on to the next window, footsteps having a light skip to them; a way to help him keep the rhythm between tasks. His voice almost sounds... Frustrated, though.


"As for tracks... We've seen 'em. I've seen 'em, at least. Little things, yeah? Sharp claws. Been keeping me from going too deep in the woods at night." He remarks, flipping the screwdriver in his palm as he prepares for the next shutter. The way he moves it, the shutter seems to come away from the wood and leave behind elegant, swirling patterns impressed in the surface of the paint. Faint, but catching the light in just such a way as to add a whole new layer of beauty to it when you got up close.


"Any ideas what they are? Hobs? Gobs? Snickers, trickers, wild fruit pickers? Mr. Wolf playing silly buggers?"

Spoiler

8 successes! Dex + Crafts (Woodwork) + Artist Kith blessing = LOADSA CRAFTING!


[dice]2555[/dice]


[dice]2556[/dice]


[dice]2557[/dice]


[dice]2558[/dice]


[dice]2559[/dice]


Also, uses up a Glamour but... Expecting to get it back and I don't think Sackcloth would start the day risking shoddy work!

 

[risaphoeniix]

Lita the Magpie





Excited, and without paying any mind to the mud, Lita reaches down and scoops up the object, rubbing it on her already grubby sweatshirt to clean it off. Then putting it up to her face she squints at it.

 

[Ragoza]

Liam





Early bird catches the worm. Or a few mackerel at least.


Liam takes a long drag of his pipe, a net bag holding a few fish in one hand and a battered looking rod slung over his shoulder. Anyone with half a brain knew you had to be up before dawn to catch anything worth keeping. Sadly, most of these tourists are lacking in that department. He tramps in the gate, seeing the Magpie up on the rough and sighing to himself. No point in getting her down yet, she'll only sulk all day. After making a note of Robert and Lucas' voices around the side of the inn, he heads inside, leaving his boots at the door. After a good stretch and one last puff of the pipe before putting it out, he heads into the kitchen.


"Zachary, my good man. I have a present for yeh."

 

[Grey]

Lucas Hood





Lucas takes a moment to admire Sackcloth's work, then answers.


"Not sure, honestly. Guess I'll have to talk to someone more in the know, or go looking for myself. Still, wouldn't want to go in unprepared."

 

[Axelgear]

Sackcloth


"Well, we've still got breakfast to do here." Sackcloth remarks, trying to keep the rhythm as he talks. It's a little difficult. "If you stick around, me woodsy friend, we can get everyone together, have us a meal, and set out together. Could use us all some time in our proper skins, methinks, and clawed beasties prowlin' near payin' guests doesn't do our business no favours."

 

[The Fuzz]

--> Lita





*tick*


It looks like a pocket watch. You're pretty sure you have a couple of them lying around, but this one's new...to you, anyway.


*tick*


Huh. It opens really easily.


Inside, it doesn't seem to have numbers. You know, 12, 7, 3, that sort of thing. Instead, it's like the first few numbers have just been replaced by the words "No," "Nope," and "Nuh uh." From there on, it gets a little more complex. Where you're pretty sure it should say 7, it says "Be Patient." Where it should say 10, it says "Not Long Now!"


Going by the watch, it's now "We'll Be With You Shortly" o'clock.


Funny. You could have sworn it was 7.45.

 

[Inari]

Red


The leaves were still green. The smell of summer still clung to the cool breezes. The ground was still quiet, all soft grass instead of crackly fallen leaves. But it was all fading, fading toward autumn.


Autumn. Careful during autumn. The bears get touchy while they prepare for winter. How could they even stand eating all that crap to stuff themselves up? Maybe they wouldn’t need to if they weren’t so lazy. Winter was plenty good hunting season, if you were good at it.


Red managed not to disturb any bears on his walk that morning, but neither had his exploration turned up any new entrances to the Hedge. On top of the mention of trails of clawed footprints creeping around this side of town, the Watchman’s claim of a creature stalking the forest seemed a good enough reason to take a look. Not to mention, a trek through the nearby woods was more appealing than mucking out gutters or preparing the bunkroom for a bunch of hikers. It wasn’t like he was avoiding work, really; what would happen if some of those hikers got snatched up by a giant bat-creature? Nothing good for the Black Lantern, certainly not. So he’d gotten up with the muted dawn, had a quick breakfast of orange juice and biscuits, and vanished into the woods nearby.


The sun was properly up over the morning by the time Red glimpsed the Black Lantern through the trees again. No sign of a new doorway in the area, but that was just the preliminary look. After marking his territory relieving himself of that orange juice, he strode out of the woods for the back side of the inn, where the old pavilion stood. The girl was up on the roof rooting around in the gutters, and no doubt Robert was up and about somewhere. No one else in sight, though. Red found himself moving quietly, his shoes muted on the grassy lawn. There was no hiding the bright red jacket he wore if one were to look in his direction, but even his too-long ears couldn’t hear his own stride on the grass.


”Suppose a wolf came out of the forest…” he murmured, and grinned a grin that showed a lot of clean, sharp teeth. Red bounded lightly up onto the wooden pavilion and plucked a strand of ivy vine that was growing over a railing. He began to whistle softly as he pressed his hand over his face, the leaves obscuring his eyes. Without breaking stride, he stepped through the opposite arch from the one he had entered, and out of Shearport Maine.


The change in smell was how he knew for sure; the sudden otherness of the greenery in his nose. Red stuffed the string of ivy into a pocket of his coat and headed back the way he had come. His eyes were on the ground, hunting for tracks, but they were only the beginning. His ears were kept wide open, his nostrils flared as he took deep breaths. When a new scent reached them, they snuffled hungrily, searching out every scent for recognition.

Spoiler

Red intends to check out the tracks; think it’d be Wits+Survival to examine them, try to follow, etc.


[dice]2565[/dice]

 

[risaphoeniix]

Lita the Magpie


"Who's going to be with me shortly?" Lita wondered aloud. This was a very strange watch. But it was pretty. Digging around in her many pockets she pulled out a length of gold chain with what looked to be a little gold tennis racket hanging off it. She slid off the charm (which, while it wouldn't have meant much to her, was 24k gold) and replaced it with the watch. That done she messed with the clasp a bit, threading the chain through the belt loop of her jeans and tucking the watch into her pocket (there had been this older man with very big mustaches staying in one of the rooms last week, and he'd had a pocket watch he wore like this. Funny, she thought, this chain might have come out of that room. So it's only appropriate...) Discovery safely secured, she finished flipping the remaining leaves out of the upper gutters.

 

[The Fuzz]

--> Red





The local Hedge is alight with gold, scarlet and earthy brown tones, with the sharp edges of stubbornly green thornbushes poking through. The path you're on loops off gently to the left, damp, soft earth covered in a layer of leaf litter.


The tracks move off in that direction. It's odd, they seem kind of disjointed. Front paw, front paw, front paw, front paw, finally a rear paw, then more front paws, and all the indentations are very light. Flip of the coin whether you're looking at one (very strange) creature, or several creatures playing frigging hopscotch.


Vaguely canine prints.


Off in the distance, a bird chirps and falls silent, it's single cry echoing through the still air.

 

[PixelWitch]

Zach


"So long as it doesn't stink the kitchen out again like last time~" he chimes, recognizing the voice instantly, "Morning, Liam,"


Workspace now clear, the young chef was currently attempting to wrangle his terrifying mass of red hair into something resembling a bun, "Don't step on Gus..."


He appears to be referring the large bear rug lying at the entrance of the kitchen. Said bear rug snarfs and wuffs sleepily at Liam's entrance, *Food?*


Donning an apron he turns to the fisherman, "So watcha got?"

 

[Inari]

Red


The Hedge seemed to know the coming season better than the world he came from. The soil smelled moist, the leaves made a vibrant pastiche of colors, and the leaves protested under his feet when he moved. They hadn’t fallen too thick, though, and the trail was still clear. Clear enough to see how odd the pattern was. Red frowned, crouched down, and brushed leaves aside to be sure he could see it all. Front, front, front, front, rear, front, front…Hm. He touched his hand to the tracks, but they were too light or too old to tell if they were moist. He leaned down and took a deep whiff, but no identifiable scent remained. They were a little canine, at least…


Red puffed air out of his nose and straightened back up, beginning to follow the tracks backward. Or what he hoped was backward; he’d heard of creatures that walked backward instead of forward…He’d deal with it either way, but instinct offered direction. He didn’t have a pack with him, and following forward risked actually finding his quarry; better to see where the stranger came from first.

 

[Grey]

Lucas Hood


"Breakfast does sound real good about now..." Hood says, rubbing his chin, feeling the stubbly moss. "You need a hand with the rest, or mind if I go in and say hello?"

 

[Axelgear]

Sackcloth


"No, no, by all means, go!" Sackcloth shakes his head, gesturing gladly to get Lucas away from the work, becoming increasingly more animated as soon as he has it back all to himself. "Far be it from me to keep you from the other's company. Just come and give a shout when it's time to eat, hm?" He says cordially. After all, breakfast was the most important meal of the day, and the first glamour harvest from hungry guests. Winter, with likely no customers to care for, was going to be a slim season for the Spring courtiers...


Once free of the burden of company, Sackcloth gets briskly back to work. To his workshop he springs, to fetch new shutters, set the old ones aside, and then to return to the bunk house to throw shut the curtains and work in some damned peace and privacy!

 

[risaphoeniix]

Lita the Magpie


Lita climbed down from the roof, or, more accurately, hopped, taking a few jumps that didn't look quite safe. She hit the ground running and bounded towards the B&B's back door. Sauntering through, paying no heed to the door clattering closed behind her (or the rather muddy hand print she left behind), she headed towards the kitchen in search of breakfast.