Notaku couldn't help but admire the way Tracy took charge of the situation. She seemed to have experience leading, which was good. He smiled and followed behind the red-head, following her advice and doing his best to remain alert.
1 suxx perception
Notaku couldn't help but admire the way Tracy took charge of the situation. She seemed to have experience leading, which was good. He smiled and followed behind the red-head, following her advice and doing his best to remain alert.
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The foliage was dry and thick about them, as the group pressed on towards the house. Tracy forged ahead, her enhanced senses making up for the sudden lack of ambient light as the frat boys entered the building. All was dark and shadows; trees loomed close. Apart from their footfalls, there was no sound - a fact Tracy knew already, and which was quickly revealed to Notaku and Penelope: not a peaceful quiet - an absence of life and a presence of subtle threat lingering close by.
As the party close on the house, Penelope nearly stubs her toe on a large, hemisphere shaped, lump of rock that has been cunningly concealed beneath a carpet of barely surviving weeds.
The house looms, leaning crookedly, in the dark. The wooden walls have become stark and grey through neglect and exposure, lending the building an eerie quality. Ambient noise from within: creaks and groans as wood settles; a startled noise and the pumping of heedless feet. Even a "Whoa... shit... I guess the Freaks do do shit out here..." and a "...totes, man! They got an alter and everything..."
Penelope, big Notaku and Tracy can make out - barely - that the voices come from the upper storey, from the side of the house facing toward them. Matty can't distinguish location, he can only make out the disembodied echo emanating from the house.
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Tracy stopped as they reached the front door to the house, considering their options before moving forward. "Sounds like the boys are upstairs," she said to the other Kindred, careful to not to speak too loudly. "We could just go through the front door, or try to find another way in." The petite Gangrel assumed the frat boys had used the front door, so it was likely open. That being said, distancing themselves from the boys wasn't a bad idea either, just in case they could hear the front door from where they were.
This houses always have noisy ass doors, she thought to herself.
"Should we try the back?" she asked her companions, figuring that she'd give them a chance to protest before setting out on that course of action.
An altar? If the Acolyte had been mortal, his heart would have started to beat faster. The Gangrel simply smiled instead, now extremely interested in what was going on in the house.
"If our goal is to remain subtle, we should approach from the back. It is less likely to be watched. Otherwise, the front door is as good as any."
He completed his thought, but as an afterthought added something else.
"I am really curious about this altar."
Penelope jerked her foot up as she nearly stumbled, then paused, kneeling to inspect the thing she'd almost tripped on, curious about the nearly perfect shape of it. She pulled away the underbrush that surrounded it as she listened to the others speak.
"It sounds like they've discovered that this place is more than they suspected. It may be better to keep them from seeing us for a while longer. I don't want them getting jumpy and find ourselves with some dead kids on our hands." It was blunt, but it was true. If they freaked out about a giant Native and an Albino girl, plus their friends... They might get some ideas about fighting them... and no matter how beefy they may be, they'd be WAY outmatched.
If the upsetting lack of fauna was any indication... they'd found something supernatural, and likely sinister. The kindred had more to worry about than the kids. "Also, I think these kids are the least of our problems, at this point. I don't like the feel of this place, and I usually like foreboding and dark places."
Mattimeo listened to the others and their opinions. For the most part it was all sound advice, the Carthian Doctor had no complaints. "Then please, I think that taking the road less traveled may be our best option." He stepped out of the way for the others to move forward.
He paused for a moment. He wished that he had something to offer this group, but it looked like he was the least martial one present. "Especially if push comes to shove, Tracy, tell me what to do and I'll help. I don't want to be in the way." He could acknowledge his faults where they lay. "Though if there are any breaches that we need to cover up or memories altered, I can most definitely help with that."
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Dried vegetation and brittle vines rustle as Penelope slowly clears them away from the offending stone. Its whitish grey, stained slightly by lichen. And the side facing the house has curious scratchings on it, which have been outlined with paint... or lipstick... or something.
While she is clearing away the thirsty undergrowth, she notices another. And another. The stones are spaced out at regular intervals and appear to form a curving line...
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Tracy nodded at the words of her companions. "This altar may be a thing, or it may not. However, checking it out while the boys are in that room is likely just going to lead to trouble," she said to Notaku, agreeing with Penelope's assessment. "I would rather things not get too messy if we can help it. But we'll get a chance to inspect things for ourselves, we just need to be prudent about how we go about it."
The petite Gangrel turned to the pale Haunt, nodding in response to her words. "Yeah, I don't like it either," she said to her friend, quirking an eyebrow as she watched the Nosferatu inspect something of the ground. "Did you find something?" she asked, curious as to what Penelope was looking at.
"I'm glad we can count of you to cover our traces," said Tracy to the Ventrue, offering him a little smile. It was definitely good to count on such a thing, just in case things did get messy in the end.
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While Penelope investigate the circle of stones (and it is a circle) that lie hidden around the house, the rest of the party go off in search of a point of entry. Each stone is of the same smooth rock. Each stone has the same symbol cut into the side facing the house.
The house is largely sealed. Cheap boards cover the windows and poor quality wood blocks the front door; its soft and wormy but thus far appears to be holding. Teasingly, the boards sealing an attic window has come away, lending the entire place a cyclopean aspect. Withered vines run up the side of the house and strangle the guttering; whether they can support the weight of a human body is anyone's guess.
The rear of the house is partially screened by sickly hedges. The door is sealed -with a new board, no less! Enough time has passed for someone to daub graffiti on it (a curiously arcane doodling). A window, however, has been freed: its large and ghastly with cracked paint and debris and leaf litter; the board lies cast aside and abandoned, heavily stained and torn asunder. The room beyond was not a kitchen: empty, beckoning, ruinous with a peeling ceiling and warped floorboards, there is nothing left to say what its function was.
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