(Cold Case) Away Team back home

[Samaritan]

Continued from Casual Insanity.

Vassagon Truce

Truce stood on the street in front of his sanctum. The way home had been...interesting, to say the least. He was accustomed to getting wherever he was needed alone. Alone in a crowd, that is. But he had company this time. Truce had used public transportation, which had turned out to be the smart move, even though the time of day warranted a risk of running into nut-cases and other idiots, believing the streets and busses belonged to them.

Traveling with two ghosts, one of which delighted in messing with people, had ensured that the trip was...entertaining. Charlene had scared two skate-boarders away from Truce, because they believed he sat in their regular spot. Truce had just sat there and enjoyed the show, as Charlene demonstrated to them, that manners were important and as long as you did not display any, your regular place would, in fact, be outside of the bus and scared shitless.

Thomas had only displayed a meagre interest in the world behind the windows. He had not said anything for the whole trip. Charlene had resided around the drivers cabin, peering outside and taking up the landscape. Thankfully, she had restraint herself from messing with the driver.

But now, they were back home. And someone else waited for them to return. Truce wasn't sure, how Chelsea would take to the company.

[Truce]

What worries Truce the most is Charlene's affinity for violence. He reminds himself that Thomas has spent a great deal of time around Charlene without issue, so it may be unfair to assume the worst of her. Still, it is an unusual situation for him.

Turning the key to his apartment he enters, calling out, "I'm home," in his habit. Closing the door behind him, Truce re-casts the rote that allows him a glimpse into Twilight.

  Speak with the Dead, 3suxx

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2014-12-05 08:11:05		Truce rolls 7 to cast Speak with the Dead rote [WIT+Occ+Death] (10 Again)		10, 9, 5, 7, 2, 7, 8, 5		3 successes

He heads straightaway to the space he designated as his Sanctum, taking the items he had gathered from his investigation into Hollis Cook and setting them on a small table. He looks around for Chelsea.

[Samaritan]

Another presence shifted through the air, unseen but not unfelt. The woman of the house enters and finds Truce returning with company.
"You are back." The voice had an echoing quality. "But you are not alone. I feel their presence."
It was a statement. No sentiments, no unspoken critque. Chelsea, it seemed, did not know, what to make of it.

"Uhm...hi."
Thomas had apparently found his voice again and decided to try and be polite.
"You can call me Thomas. Are you...are you like us?"

"Thomas. I hear you. I am Chelsea. I am..."
There was a break. Something held its breath.
"Yes. I am like you. More like you, Thomas. Who is the other one? The one, that does not speak."
"I speak. I am Charlene. Tell me, Chelsea, are you here on your own accord, or does this man Truce lie and he simply collects ghosts to serve his every need?"
There was a curious tone in Charlenes voice, which swirled through the room. It carried with it a certain undercurrent, one which could be found in kids, when they were up to no good and wanted to make sure, that the following temper-tantrum would have enough justification to be noticed.
Charlene had apparently come to the rather rash conclusion, that Truce might be a collector of rare specimen.

[Truce]

Charlene's accusation is not without its justification. She had not been shy about her hesitation and suspicions, and Truce had yet to prove himself sincere in what they had previously discussed.

"Hello, Chelsea," says Truce, leaving Charlene's question for Chelsea to answer. He had not explained to the specters his relationship to Chelsea. Her death seven years ago had been the catalyst for Truce's Awakening and set him on this fated path. "These are some new friends I've met today. They'll be staying with us for the moment while I investigate their deaths. I hope you don't mind."

Truce sits down on the sofa, pulling out the missing persons report and opening the file on the small table to look at while they exchange pleasantries.

An apartment full of Ghosts. Truce wonders how this will turn out and considers drawing on the Time Arcana to preview events to come.

[Samaritan]

For a moment none of the entities spoke. There was a slight tension in the air, which became more tangible, the longer the silence lasted.
"Charlene, you are broken. There is no trust. Truce is not my master. Truce is the one who takes care." Chelsea finally said.
"Well, being broken is apparently all the rage around here." Charlene responded, a little edgy, but with less venom than before. "Soooo, what now? You owe me a hockey game, Mr. Truce, but since I had so much fun riding the bus today, I will generously wait a little."

With that, Charlene fell silent. Her presence shifted around the apartment. She took in her new surroundings and investigated, where everything and anything was.
Thomas was still silent. Charlene talking made him shut up instanty, so it seemed. He also appeared much closer to some kind of closure than her.

"So. What happened?" Chelsea inquired to anyone and no-one in particular.

[Truce]

There was just enough hesitation, that Truce's eyes glanced over to Chelsea. He wonders if she doubts him. What must it feel like, to be one of the dead, helpless by themselves to release from their burdens, doomed to relive their suffering until the chance that their bindings fail and they are swept away into nothingness. He wonders if Chelsea resents him, in part, for being her caretaker, a reminder of her helplessness.

There would be time to talk on that later, perhaps. Truce is never alone with his thoughts for long.

"A man died. I was asked to write a psychological profile on him on short notice. Turns out he was involved in some sort of cult or organization that killed Charlene and Thomas here. My only lead on them so far are these two and this thing." Truce holds up the Asclepios from the table, turning it this way and that, admiring the crafted serpent and tools it wrapped around.

"And a name, Jim Denton. That's where I'll start after I gather more information on Thomas and Charlene."

[Samaritan]

Even without senses attuned to the supernal, one would have probably noticed the sheer amount of horrified shock, that radiated through the room, when Truce displayed the icon of the staff of Asclepios-Icon.
Chelsea hissed and there was a wave of displaced air that gusted through the room. A few papers were picked up and fluttered about, before silence returned once more.
"Murderer." she whispered.
Both, the presences of Thomas and Charlene suddenly diminished, as if pushed into the background of the canvas, which was twilight, as Chelsea manifested herself within the room. Her expression was somewhere between disbelief and terror.
"I know that symbol. I saw it. It was one of the last sights, which I perceived. The mark of a murderer. My murderer."
Chelsea's appearance flickered, like an image on TV distorted by a storm outside engulfing the antenna. She took another close look at the icon, before recoiling from a memory, that surfaced. Another step back and she transitioned back into the ethereal state of twilight.
"Who was that man, which carried this symbol?"

[Truce]

Truce leaps back to his feet as Chelsea's emotions saturate the room. He's watched her for years and she hasn't shown as much interest as this. The revelation hits Truce like a speeding truck, that Chelsea's death may somehow be connected to the group of which he is now investigating.

His eyes watch her closely, widened with his own panic. "Chelsea. I..." he stammers, trying to come to terms with this new information. "The man's name was Hollis Cook. But he was just a pawn. Do you remember that name? I have a picture..." Truce fishes in his pants pocket for his phone where he had snapped a picture of Cook. He offers to show it to her, holding up the image. Suddenly the idea that Cook might have been Chelsea's murder surfaces emotions that cloud his vision. That cook might have been the killer... The thought derails any notions of objectivity that he's held thus far.

[Samaritan]

"No...no name. He wore robes. And he had a knife. And this icon on a chain around his neck." Chelsea whispered, her memories obviously still playing into her voice.
"That's not him." she said, pointing at the picture.
It made sense. Chelsea had died, when Truce had still lived in Arizona. Hollis Cook seemed to have lived only in Portland and Sacramento. But Jim Denton? Or his ominous lodge? There were question to be asked. But who had the answers? Thomas and Charlene seemed to know the name Jim Denton and Hollis Cook, but apart from those two?

Charlene and Thomas had both manifested in a corner of the room, gazing at Chelsea who faded in and out of the tangible fallen world. Thomas face was grave, but Charlene seemed to have somewhat warmed to Chelsea, seeing probably a kindred spirit.
"So, some of the murder-men have survived, whatever happened to them in Portland, it seems." she stated matter-of-factly, while taking a few hesitant steps towards Truce and Chelsea.
"I don't know, where he came from. I remember precious few as it is. Only the pain. And the icon." Chelsea muttered, half in reply, half to herself.

[Truce]

Truce breathes deeply, his body still responding to the adrenaline, his heartbeat slowing back to a normal pulse. He puts his phone away once more having confirmed that Cook wasn't her killer. But still, the emotions run wild within him. What if it had been Cook? Would he have held it against Charlene, having been denied his own revenge? Would he have done the same as Charlene and torn his Ghost apart? If Cook's specter had survived Charlene's attack, could he try summoning him here?

Burdens. The weight of it becomes apparent to Truce as he continues to breathe. He lets his mind clear and the adrenaline fade from his system.

"Alright, I understand," he says finally to all of them. "The icon and Jim Denton are what I have to go on. But now I know that Chelsea's death is involved, and I can focus my efforts on this one task." Still, he wonders if he shouldn't try to get help from the local Consilium before he tries to investigate too far.

"I'll start with these files, the circumstances of Thomas's and Charlene's deaths. Then I'll investigate the newspaper reports. Once I've compiled more information I'll see if any more information surfaces. Then I'll investigate Jim Denton himself."

With that, Truce begins to take a more thorough look at the missing persons reports he'd taken from Cook's apartment.