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Tracy quirked an eyebrow at Notaku's words. Keep something inside? Hmm, well that's interesting, she thought to herself, glancing up towards the house for a moment. "Then it is probably best that we not fuck with it," she said in response to the other Gangrel's words, turning to face him once more. "Let's go in, but keep your wits about ya," she said to him, offering him a quick wink.
"We don't know what may be lurking inside..."
-1 vitae to activate Vigor, -1 vitae to activate Resilience
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Leaving the others, Notaku and Tracey headed back to the open window at the rear of the house. It did not prove an obstacle. Darkness reigned in the house, once they exited the back room: a close, smothering darkness of stale air, thick with dust and mould; a darkness filled by yawning silence punctuated by creaks and groans of settling wood. Remnants of furniture and piles of trash were a dim, monstrous, presence, that had to be sensed or felt, rather than seen. Here and there, their wandering feet crunched on shards of broken glass. Notaku felt chips of paint and plaster coat his head as he moved.
Apart from the room they entered by, there is little to no light. All other windows and exits are boarded up. Do Tracey and Notaku have light sources with them?
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Tracy has no light source with her...but she's got Heightened Senses active, and Trained Observer 1 to mitigate up to a -3 environmental penalty to perception
Notaku has no source of light with him
Notaku stepped cautiously as he entered the house. Without any source of light on hand, navigating was extremely difficult for the giant Gangrel. He wondered if the frat boys brought flashlights with them? Regardless, he had no solution for that particular problem at the moment. Gods willing, they would find a solution to that problem soon.
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The pair struggle through the dark - Notaku feeling his way and Tracey marginally better with limited spatial awareness. Which was a good thing, otherwise she would have ploughed right into the tiny stairwell that led down to a basement level.
A roar from the storey above indicated that the frat boys were still active. Howls of laughter and shrill irritation filtered through the house from their tomfoolery. Stab of ambient light, picking out the hallway and the steadily warping stairs.
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"Sounds like they are still alive and well," said Tracy to her fellow Gangrel, careful to keep her voice barely above a whisper. "I think its best if we live them like that for now. We can focus our efforts elsewhere." As she said those words, the petite Savage gestured in the direction of the basement. She had nearly missed the stairwell, but as her heightened senses helped her get adjusted to the darkness of their environment, the redheaded Dragon could see the stairwell more clearly now.
"Watch your step though," she said to Notaku before taking a tentative first step towards the basement. "And your head..." he was a tall motherfucker after all.
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I'm willing to see this through the end, but since there's only one other character involved at this point...I guess that will be up to C_Lloyd
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Tracy and Notaku slipped down the steeply inclined, narrow, steps. The walls and ceiling closed in. The giant felt something liquid dribble down onto his head and ooze down the nape of his neck...
At least the basement was of a reasonable size, carved from the wreckage of a series of smaller rooms (the Acolyte could attest when his head bumped a chunk of wall marking where a partition had once lain). Lacking a proper light source, however, neither of them could tall much more.
Notaku brushed up against a locked door that simply refused to budge no matter how hard he tried. It was not flush with the wall and the warped wood was dusty to the touch.
Tracy could smell the malingering trace of incense in the close air, buttressed and enveloped in the aroma of rotting fruit. Following the scent like a blood hound, she fumbled her way to a makeshift alter piled with plates, fruit, bottles and cheap candles.
Slowly, their blunderings were accompanied by the liquid sound of syrupy dripping.
Then came the crash. The shouts of anger, dismay and pain. The words were lost but the feeling seeped through the intervening rock and the walls. The Kindred made a decision: discretion was the better part of valour and they slipped away as quietly as they had come. Behind them, the jocks were struggling with one of their number who had fallen from the landing. The groups cries of consternation followed the pair of Licks into the night...
It has been 3-4 days, no response. I am wrapping this scene so we can get it into continuity. Jag C_Lloyd Tracy Burns Notaku feel free to explore the House another time. Bring friends!
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