Vinny was consumed by the Chicago Philharmonic; it made him forget about the swaying yacht and the peering eyes. He’d already overheard the voices of what had to be inconspicuous Kovali, whom which he couldn’t recognize due to both their unfamiliarity and masqued faces. Their distrust and overall critique of the prospect even being allowed on the Charon was made crystal clear. For a while he’d be unknown, his flamboyantly colored mask erasing his identity from the crowd, until he had to take the stage in place of the Chicago Philharmonic and create a melodic atmosphere that would keep everyone’s eyes off him. Last minute weren’t the words he’d use to describe his attention toward the party, because before he’d been abruptly asked to cover for the DJ whom had bailed on the event, Vinny had hardly let the matter crowd his mind.
His fate changed in a split second. It was enough to flare his anxiety and paranoia to extreme levels. He had to treat it like a job— like his normal, unremarkable job. Although there was bound to be unwanted company present. Purgatory was a safe space, filled to the brim with Kovali associates and various untouched citizens of Chicago. It was his job to find a home in a new and uncomfortable environment. He took little solace in the fact that it might not be so hard; he’d been uncomfortable ever since he pulled that trigger at the Taste of Chicago. There was so much unease that he hadn’t noticed the new figure beside him, their consciousness seemingly elsewhere for the time being. Vinny, drink in hand, a horrible way to start the night, turned his head to the side in greeting. “What’s the worst that could happen?” He chatted, nervously before the glass reached his lips.
(BELOW DECK, HALLWAY) Out of the frying pan, into the fire. Those freed from the galley are attempting to navigate the hallway by torchlight when they realise the true gravity of their scene. The Heir, bloodied, appears before them. The Icarus easily imagines his condition has something to do with the corpse visible through an open door, but there’s no time for interrogation. The Crooked heads toward the main deck for a confrontation with the officer who trapped them, the Hot Shot, for once technically on the right side of the law as they walk upstairs, instead of taking the left.
The Heir may be looking for the Phoenix, but it’s the Consigliere he finds from the Lover’s pounding; enlisting the Icarus to once again test their skills with a lock. The Consigliere’s broken hand leaves them headed to find the King, while the rest attempt to find tools in the galley to break the chains.
The three in the billiard room have made light work of the window. the Shadow halfway out of it and judging the drop, as the Gambler and the Contractor finally manage to wedge the door open, with assistance from the Lover on the other side.
When the door to the staff bathroom is opened, there appears to be no one inside. It’s only once the Gambler investigates that the Forgotten calls out for the others to leave their hiding spots. None of the Kovali-affiliated note the Contractor’s presence by the doorway, and the Prospect isn’t particularly happy at owing even more.
(ENGINE ROOM) With the damage blocked as well as they’re able, to both human and machine, the four remaining in the engine room are trying to limit their exertion, while waiting on the Faithful’s return.
As the unlucky begin to lose consciousness, it’s a struggle to make out the Sacrificed freeing them. Just like him, they’ve put their trust in the wrong person.
♞ It’s all flesh and fleshed out and forgotten now ♞
(MAIN DECK, BRIDGE) The Faithful watches through the window as the Weapon approaches. From one nightmare to another, she’s not doing well with the company she chooses. There’s a ghoul in the room, with gun trained on the Captain, someone particularly obsolete when the yacht isn’t moving.
The Weapon steps out of the moonlight and opens the door, asks to speak to the Captain they can’t see. Much too casual for the tension in the room, but it’s all been a ruse. The Weapon knows fear that can’t be hidden. Gets well within reach before the ghoul is any wiser. The Faithful may be tied to a chair, but she’s not really dead. The pair of them taking out the threat. The Consigliere can shortly after be found at the end of a gun, until recognition hits. There may be a crisis but only if they advise it. Protocol versus damage control, the Weapon’s military training wins out, but the Consigliere wants to ensure the narrative. One call to port authorities, one call to someone else.
(MAIN DECK, EXTERIOR) Armed with the knowledge that their own colleagues are involved in the chaos, the Crooked returns to the main deck to confront the officer who had trapped them. As they quietly attempt to remove them from the scene, they find a gun to their head. Another officer has their finger on the trigger, and yet another moves from acting as the Messiah’s bodyguard to behaving as a threat.
Those nearest scatter, leaving only the Infiltrator and the Coward primed nearby. It is the King, who shakes their head.
Two more officers appear to take hostages on the edge of the crowd. While three more attempt to dissuade any sudden movements. The final ghoul stands by the gallows. The drama of the swinging corpse now missing from their plan, he gestures wildly to the bench it is now settled upon.
“People of Chicago, this is what your Mayor has wrought. This blood is on their hands. A victim to your own Police Chief. They are in the pockets of those we rally against. They are owned by the mobs! People of Chicago, I call on you to seek your own justice, for you will not find it with our corrupt system. You will not find it with those demons.”
Masks are placed over the faces of the Crooked and the Messiah, devils both, or so the story seems.
“Look upon their true faces and see them for what they are. Not your protectors, Chicago, but your enemy.”
Using their emphatic agreement as distraction, the Crooked throws an elbow to disarm their captor, but are met with failure.
In the crowd, it is the Performer and the Prospect who manage to knock an officer’s gun from their grip and across the deck. During the distraction, the Heir takes a shot from atop a bench, it heads straight for the Crooked, with whom he exchanged a look just prior. The Coward follows suit, grasping for the officer’s gun and using it to shoot the one holding the Messiah hostage. Blood covers the Mayor, as they yell for everybody to get down.
By the gallows, the Black Widow holds a knife to the throat of the talkative ghoul. He continues to wave his gun at those on deck, before dropping it and stepping forward to force the blade. With no intention of meeting the same fate, The unarmed ghoul drags the Paradox through the crowd, attempting to throw her overboard. As the Doctor struggles with them, the Mad Scientist tries to pull them back onboard. The Assassin using a chain from below deck to free the doctor of any moral dilemma, before the Shadow assists their favourite chemist.
The three remaining armed ghouls force through the crowd to the lifeboat, their hostages, the Hot Shot and the Phoenix, working to untie the boat. As the Phoenix slams a paddle into one of their skulls, the Hot Shot grabs their gun. Relying on the Cataclysmic, and the Infiltrator to make their shots as the Hot Shot finishes the job.
The Messiah begins interrogation of the officer shot by The Heir, before they watch another bullet prevent attempts to talk. The Coward calls it mercy, but the Crooked knows better, injury allegedly preventing them from making an arrest.
OOC INFORMATION
Shortly after, beams drench the deck in light, nothing obscured anymore. Members of the public threatened at gunpoint once more as they clamor for safety. The boat isn’t for them, but for injured members of the Kovali, and those most likely to be prevented from disembarking without complication. The King, the Phoenix, the Heir, the Coward, are all well away before the searchlights of the Chicago Police Marine Unit boats illuminate the scene.
Those remaining on board and under most scrutiny have several options to remain anonymous, but given the masks and the sheer chaos everyone is trying to escape, no deals need be made with the devil- unless that’s your prerogative.
Please tag all starters with bkevent04. We hope you’ve enjoyed our Hallowe’en event. I can only apologise for personal issues preventing the conclusion being reached sooner.
Regret stems from her costume choice if only due to the Chicago weather beyond the scope of this charity event, a frigid breeze whipping past exposed limbs once the crowd’s body heat could no longer prevent it. She spots a lone figure standing along the starboard railing, almost wonders if the other woman has also considered the possibility of jumping into the icy waters below if only to escape for a moment. Approaching without any sense of hesitancy, she takes up residence beside her sister yet does not reach out to touch nor acknowledge physically. They still have a part to play, especially with wandering Kovali eyes lingering nearby. "You know, I had truly hoped that the next time we saw each other wouldn’t be on another boat.” @azrakaran
When whoever it was that had been attempting small talk with Ismael left, Azra returned to the table. Set his drink before him, waiting for any indication she should continue to stay away, before she actually sat down across from him. “Is that what you wanted?” She didn’t indicate the drink, rather more referring to her having left to collect them, imagining he wanted some privacy for whatever was going on. “I could get you something else instead?” Kept her eyes on him for any hint as to his mood. Black. It was always black. Still, she couldn’t help but think keeping her in his presence might be enough to satiate some of the anger he harboured.
translated plot drop (character names instead of skeleton names) below the cut :)
♛ Silent compass, anger at dawn ♛
The evening is in full swing, with no hint of disaster (bar the cheese puffs running out). Although the festivities are inevitably dampened to some, the usual tensions apparent, the atmosphere is light. Who wouldn’t take the chance to forget for just one night, when money is paid in exchange.
The Charon sails the lake, skirting past the lights of the city. A spectacular sight as the passengers head toward a rejuvenated Navy Pier.
(MAIN DECK, INTERIOR) Guests are gathered to witness MICHAEL, DJ booth as their unorthodox stage, as they thank those in attendance. During the speech ANIKA is subtly pulled away by one of their own to investigate a disturbance below deck. Shortly after, a murmur rises from those to the back of the crowd, nearest the deck. Dying to comfortable silence once MICHAEL mentions preparations for a Hallowe’en display.
(BELOW DECK, HALLWAY) A series of masked patrons have traversed the hallways all evening, but none in such uniform procession as this, nor so heavily armed. One group of five to the left and the other to the right. In turn the ten bar nearly every door below deck.
Beyond the thresholds of those left, they find;
THEO, and CAT, with SERA in the ballroom.
VINNY, AZRA, and NIC, with JASPER in the crew bathrooms.
ALP, ISMAEL, and ISAAC, with LUNA in the billiards room.
Without fail, the operation manages to extricate SERA, JASPER, and LUNA, from their respective rooms. Before those doors are then locked with the remaining still inside.
Soon after, ANIKA finds themselves thrown into a cage with wolves. As they gain their bearings, they discover they’re with EMIR and VAL in the locked galley. Knives available for all the back-stabbings they desire.
(MAIN DECK, EXTERIOR) Scheduled to match MICHAEL’s speech, LEX is waiting on deck for INES. Concealed by a bulkhead themselves, they don’t see the hasty retreat caused by the approach of ZEPHYR, who also misses as INES heads into a stairwell.
The remaining pair are at a stalemate until they hear applause to mark the end of sycophantic lullaby.
(MAIN DECK) MICHAEL invites the guests to the outside deck, so they might all witness a Hallowe’en treat.
LEX, and ZEPHYR, head to join REMINGTON at the front of the crowd. Expectantly viewing the body dangling from the gallows. It’s only when they are directed to look toward Navy Pier, that they realise. As ZEPHYR notes the costume, the mask, and the build of the asphyxiated corpse is that of SERA, a scream is heard from inside.
SIERRA heads toward the sound to find LIENA is there first, ushering away the scared bartender. In one of the stalls, awkwardly hunched, an overdosed corpse that could be identified as JASPER.
(BELOW DECK, HALLWAY) The group of ghouls have descended into the bowels of the ship or replaced masks to join with the crowd above, leaving the hallway clear for LENNOX to note the suspicious chains on several doors. They can’t hear anything from the other side, but set about breaking into a bedroom. When ROE finds them inside, they’re standing over a hacked corpse in a bed, easily believed to be LUNA. Estimating a time of death set days before, ROE is leaving with LENNOX when they’re set upon. Hoods over their heads before much damage can be done, they’re dragged down to the engine room.
(ENGINE ROOM) As soon as LENNOX is freed, unhindered by the hood, they attack one of the four ghouls in the room. Distraction enough for SERA to join. ROE, JASPER, and LUNA (unencumbered by their earlier costumes) attempt to assist. They are stilled by a gunshot and a spray of blood.
(MAIN DECK/BELOW DECK) Attempting to cut the body down from the gallows, LEX slips as the yacht shudders to a halt. All on deck now aware this is not the light in the dark the messiah had planned. The fireworks display is lit on Navy Pier, igniting the sky as the Charon is plunged into darkness, chaos.
ISEK, finally free of RAFAL’s gaze, follows along with EMMETT as the two navigate the main deck with only moonlight. They are followed downstairs by one of the ghouls.
Hearing their approach, INES works faster to pick the lock of the galley, slipping into the dark kitchen.
♞ An unholy jargon in the judgement seat ♞
(ENGINE ROOM) Three of the ghouls escape the engine room. The fourth is left with their captives. The water sealed door locked and barred to prevent escape. The blood accounted for by the wound from SERA’s brunt with a pistol. The bullet had grazed JASPER, rather unfortunately lodging in a piece of the engine. The fault had caused a safety shut-off, but not without fumes leaking from the tanks into the vacuum sealed engine room. Not long until those inside lose the remaining oxygen and their ability to attempt escape.
OOC INFORMATION
Those in the ballroom, the crew bathrooms, and the billiards room, are free (as a group) to write a resolution to the point of escape, or to leave it to us. Those in the engine room should work together to survive. And those scattered about the decks and the galley are free to find one another.
Please tag all starters with bkevent04. We hope you make it out alive.
He had just been getting another drink. This time for Cat. His third lady friend of the night, he had been having a nice evening. He should probably have gone looking for Luna, he was supposed to watch her for Raf. But, no. Here he was locked in the ballroom. How the hell did he get locked in here? Who the hell were those people? He was slumped on the floor, the ballroom was no longer filled by any means. People had moved on to other parts of the yacht. He was on the floor, in more pain than he wanted to admit, his right hand snapped by that freak. They had taken Sera too and locked them in here. They needed to get moving, but Theo was stuck on the floor in massive pain now. His Nightwing costume still clung tight to his body, his eyes closing as he gripped his broken wrist with his one good hand left, why did it have to be his right hand? He used that hand. Fucking hell.
He was breathing heavy. Only about six other people in the room, one of them was Cat though. So he at least knew someone here. The pain was semi-sobering for him, but he could still feel the buzz of the alcohol itching the back of his mind. He had just watched as the door had locked. He hadn’t stopped them. He felt weak, he was weak. He had failed Sera and he had failed Zephyr. He hated himself for it. He looked up from staring at the door just in time to see Cat approaching him, “Hey. So I got our drinks?” He said nodding to the one spilled and one half-empty glasses of whiskey sitting at his side on the floor.
