As the cape of night draped itself around the city of Fallcoast the lights below came on, bathing the streets in artificial light, poisoning the clouds above with a toxic yellow hue. The sound of cars in the distance could be heard, driving to and from their destinations, a simple background noise to the scene set before the Sin-Eaters gathered near the Fallcoast Police Department. Much like the rest of the city, the area outside of the department has civilian vehicles parked along both sides of the streets, as well as a parking lot nearby for officers to drive to work. The occasional person could be seen exiting or entering one of the many entrances of the building, and sometimes there would be a group of skater kids or other miscreants wandering about around the premises, talking loudly amongst themselves.
Frankie waits at the mouth of an alley across the street, having glared at another dude who was loitering there until he wandered on. Arms crossed across her stomach, her demeanour is not particularly welcoming. Nearby, on a trash can, perches a ghostly crow. At a distance in the evening, it's almost mistakable for a regular crow, but the inky smudginess of its form marks it as different up close. Also: ghost crows, psychopomps, are an odd sight to just be hanging around.
The sun is down, that means the pale Abernathy girl can go outside in the Summer heat without turning into a lobster. She had received hints and offers for assistance in doing all of... this. So Freddy, largely without much else to do and needing to get out in society, has arrived.
Now, she has never had any issues with police. Not yet, at least, let's say. She isn't looking to change that but some sacrifices must be made for the greater good. One she is all about. The semi-formally taught Gatekeeper is currently approaching the mouth of the alley from deeper within it, rather than take the street directly. Oh look, dressed in dark colors. How original this Freddy is. A black peasant skirt, a dark purple blouse that leaves her arms bare. Combat boots are a nice touch, perhaps, all scuffed from age and wear.
Her fingers play idly with a Charm cross she wears. Other hand busy feeding herself a cigarette in drags suggesting a seasoned smoker despite her youthful appearance. It is the psychopomp that gets her attention, which she stares at longer than anything else.
Damian meets Frankie in the alley. Probably in contact with her before coming. No suit for once, that's not inconspicuous at all. Instead, he opts for simple clothes. Jeans and a black t-shirt, rather nondescript. Just another Joe Blow on the streets. Simple running shoes on his feet. He comes up to the alley, keeping out of the lights as best he can before nodding to Frankie. Even Norbert gets a nod. (The crow). Sinking a little into the alley himself, he's maybe more approachable then Frankie, but he's expressionless, a mask to make him almost unreadable. His car parked somewhere close by, but not too close, laptop likely inside as he's not wearing it now. It's a shock!
A random hobo walks by, clutching a paper bag as if his life depended on it. His hair was long and scraggly grey, his beard equally long and full of...twigs? Dried vomit? Hard to tell. Regardless, he stumbles on by the alleyway, not noticing the three people crouched nearby. He collapses on a bench, falling asleep almost immediately.
Frankie glances sidelong at the hobo, frowning. She waves Damian forward, stepping out of the alley and heading down the sidewalk toward Freddy. The crow hops off the trash can and takes wing, landing on Frankie's shoulder. Approaching the other black-clad young woman, Frankie says, "You must be Freddy. I'm Frankie; this is Damian."
Freddy is snapped out of her reverie of watching the crow. "Good to meet you." she tells them both, eyes sliding back to Norbert, then back to the other two Sin-Eaters. The hobo isn't paid much attention to, a common enough sight in the area. Her cigarette holding hand gestures instead to the police station. "So the cop shop..." she looks over to the pair again. "... I can get on the inside, astral like, you know and keep you guys up to date?" she offers between them both. "I'm fast." she states, as if that needed to be said, like it is a measure of her skill about it.
If any unknown Sin-Eater was trying to detect the presence of others, Damian reveals himself pretty quickly. Whatever they plan, he knows what's going to be needed. A ghostly mask, that has shadows seemingly roll off of it, appears in his hand. His other produces a phone which he uses to pull up some building plans. Government buildings, plans are usually available online. Silly security, but then no one really expects someone to walk through walls, either. He gives an offhand nod to Freddy at his name, looking down at the screen, thumb moving over his phone. Probably looking for the nearest 'entry point' to the evidence lockers, if he can, in fact, find the building plans. Even as this happens, wisps of plasm start to stream off him, form into shadows and envelop him in an eerie armor of shifting shadow.
Frankie nods once. "That's good. Can you do the thing where you can walk through walls? I can do invisible to people and machines, but not the wall-walking," Frankie says. She glances over at Norbert, perched on her shoulder, and then says, "I'm thinking maybe pull the fire alarm to get people outside. Yeah?" She's quite businesslike. Small talk, pfft.
Looking around, Freddy is on the hunt. For what? She did say going Astral. "I need to find a spot to hang myself, choke..." she murmurs softly. Glancing up at the top of the buildings and frowning. "... I could go home..." she sighs, "Nah, take to fuckin' long." Someone has a habit of talking to themselves.
The rattle of heavy metal under her feet as she steps on the lid to a storm drain or sewer, it has her looking down. "... fuck you." she tells no one. Standing there, rolling her eyes at the situation.
"Learn Oracle, Freddy. It is invaluable, Freddy. It is best to learn and investigate prior to action, Freddy." she mimics... someone, in her tone. Her fingers slipping into the holes of the lid, trying to tug on it and pull. Much too heavy. "Ninja Turtles make this look so much easier." she grunts, looking to Frankie and Damian. Well, really Damian, "Lend a hand? Somewhere I can stash myself?" is the most audible of all her little rant that could be clearly heard.
Damian's thumb stops on a spot in the building. "Here." He seems to be talking to himself. "I'll go in here." Looking up and over at Frankie. He shows her, or really them, the building plans on his phone. "You could go in here?and meet me?" He's showing Frankie a route through the building. Again, both of them, though Freddy won't really need a route per se. "Fire alarm is a good idea." Once they've agreed on it, or have seen what is needed, he puts the phone away. Eyes glance over at Freddy, but the fact she looks at him and not Frankie seems to make something pull at his face. A slight tug upward before he stills it. He looks to Frankie and then back. He does, after all, know how strong Frankie is. He motions her with his head, going to help her lift the grate, even as the shadows rise around him and begin to consume him into invisibility.
Frankie glances sidelong at Damian, the left corner of her lips curving upward just ever-so-slightly. She reaches down to help Freddy move the lid without much effort. Must be stronger than she looks. Must be Damian knows that. Or maybe Damian just doesn't like to get his hands dirty; who knows? She leans over to glance at Damian's phone, nodding once. "Got it. Norbert, go with him. I'm gonna cloak in a sec." The ghost crow flutters off Frankie's shoulder to move to Damian's. Unless the guy swats him off, but they have a better relationship than that, right?
Absolute surprise shows on Freddy's face when she sees Frankie just... "Woah." she whispers to herself in mild disbelief. Looking at the sewer lid, then back to Frankie. "Fuckin' She-Ra and shit." she murmurs, slipping a hand into a sewn in pocket of her skirt that hides amidst the folds. Pulling from it a piece length of black nylon rope. Enough, one could assume, could be wrapped around her neck and tied off for a suitable, make-shift noose.
"BRB" says the Millenial as she takes to the rungs that make a ladder leading down. She pauses a moment, the back of her hand against her nose. Eyes closed. She hunches once, twice. A dry heave. "Oh.. fuck, god..." she mumbles out, "Wine and a bath. Wine and a bath." she repeats to herself like a mantra, enjoying the last breath of alley air in favor of dank, fetid sewer funk. At least she won't be breathing for too much longer. Just as her head slips under the street level she looks to Frankie. "You better not leave me down here as a joke, I swear to fuckin' God." she frowns, scowls, then starts to go down the rest of the way. Stopping at one point to tie up a noose, slip it over her head and tie a knot to one of the rungs. High enough where if she just dropped off, she would certainly choke herself but not break her neck.
Damian makes sure Frankie has it, and then nods. Norbert only gets a glance. He doesn't seem to mind the birds presence as he moves towards the station, and particularly the nearest section of it that leads to the evidence locker. Unseen by man or machine. It's going to be hard enough to do this as is, passing through too many walls and past too many people will just make it harder. Once he's sure he's in the right spot, he carefully passes through the outer wall of the police station. Just before doing so, he mutters under his breath. "I really hate this." It just feels weird.
After Freddy killed herself...sort of...in the sewers, she was walking in the world of horror that is the Twilight. Things were twisted and broken in that place, and while she had a more or less clear view of solid reality...she was walking with the ghosts. Some of them were screaming. Just screaming, no cohesion, no words, clutching their heads as they were subjected to insanity. There weren't very many of them in the area, thankfully, but that could change if the mission failed. Freddy had more or less free access to the entire building, and with the Sin-Eater's ability to see echoes of echoes, they would be able to communicate more or less instantly.
The evidence locker, according to the information Damian gathered, was on the second sub-level, tucked far away into the back corner. Nobody would be able to see him as he phased through the walls, and nobody would be able to see Frankie either, though she had to take a more mundane route. A route that involved electronic and traditional door locks, as well as the constant threat of discovery, should she make too much noise.
Aside from the ghosts wandering and screaming...Freddie senses a sort of menacing presence, on the other side of the police station. There are a couple of people in Twilight over that direction, so she can't tell who's giving off such a dangerous vibe, but they're there. The other Sin-Eaters haven't seen any of those ghosts yet, since they are in the material world, but Freddie can see them more or less perfectly clear. Upon entering the police station, she finds pretty much everything where it needs to be, and is able to tell Frankie the exact codes to use to bypass the number-pads after observing some of the officers use them. Frankie will require a key-card, however, to enter the evidence locker, held by a tall Asian man by the name of 'Tim Chow'. Everything more or less looks clear for Damian, and Wirehead is currently not present. Thankfully.
As Freddy makes her way through the building, she is quick. While Frankie and Damian can see her? She moves incredibly fast. So fast it appears she just blinks in and out of sight. If it weren't for the occasional blur, it'd almost appear to be teleportation.
She tells Damian where to get in the best position to slip through the floor into the sub-basement.
She zips to Frankie to let her know key codes to the pads that require them. She is a smart cookie and is able to retain a four digit code or three where necessary.
She lets the two work, saying "I'll be back." and BAMF! Gone. Then she reappears, looking to be leaning against a wall or watercooler. Waiting, inspecting her nails like her nail polish may look different on this side. Though on one such return trip of seeing to her new pals? She looks troubled, "... there is something here, on this side. I.. it's weird, real... creepy, menacing.", then she is gone again. Just letting them know, apparently. Whatever she has seen on that side? She avoids, instead looking to the task at hand and trying to stay hidden from whatever she has noticed.
In doing so, she happens upon Damian again, telling him, "The... apron, thingy... whatever. It is in the locker, corner, behind some bars in a filing cabinet." she tells him. "I'll be back, I need to look for some cards for She-Ra.". BLINK!
Then she is by Frankie again, checking up on her. She tells her the same thing, where the apron is or what she may think is the apron. "Looking out for a key-card for ya, I haven't come across one yet."
Damian has the plans on his phone, but a little direction never hurts. Putting on gloves once he passes through, he turns to the fire alarm and pulls it. Here comes the rain! He's very methodical about his movements. Finding a perfect spot to drops down through a floor, then looking around to position himself and do it again. Constantly moving towards the evidence locker. He has one goal, and he means to accomplish it as efficiently as possible, it seems. His interaction with Freddy is mostly nodding, apparently not wanting to give his position away, especially this deep in the station, even if a cop would probably dismiss it as freaky ghost stuff. He's on a mission, the apron and the storage locker, but he does keep his head on a swivel. He's not exactly expecting this to be easy and it's not the cops he's concerned about.
Once the fire alarm sounds, people start putting their paper-work down, rising slowly and walking calmly and efficiently through the building to the nearest muster points. Obviously people who worked there were far better trained than regular civilians when it came to procedure. A couple of the higher-ups were trying to figure out what the problem was as people vacated the premises, coordinating with other emergency services to quickly and efficiently locate the problem.
Frankie slithers her way into the building just as the doors are beginning to close. She brushes against the last cop out, a captain, but that can't be helped. Making her way through the halls, she murmurs, "Got it," whenever Freddy addresses her. She pulls on a pair of gloves from her pocket. And, once, as she inputs a code to a keypad, "Do you see a ghost with wires wrapped around it? Be careful."
Norbert has left Damian's shoulder, but he follows through the walls and doors, a small and shadowy presence.
As soon as people begin to pile out of the building, the menacing presence begins to move towards the building. As it turns out, it appears to be one of the ghosts with the appearance of a wild-west cowboy. His outward features didn't quite mark him as dangerous, even with the smile on his face...but something was off. He took a coin out of his pocket and began to flip it between his fingers, closing in on the building. Tim Chow, on the other hand, was about to make his way past Frankie. The keycard was stuffed in his pocket, the lanyard hanging loosely outside of his pocket, swaying as he walked.
Freddy seems to have fulfilled her primary task in this adventure and it just takes but a thought for her to move around. Zipping from one place to the next. Though it is kind of funny as sometimes she shows up just laying on a desk, staring at the ceiling. She'd poke her head through a wall, floor, ceiling. On top of a filing cabinet next, swinging her legs that passes through it.
The alarm goes off and she moves to go see people move out of it. She finds Frankie again and points out a guy. "Tim Chow." she tells her, ghosting over to the man, around him. Pointing to his name badge and then to the lanyard hanging outside of his pocket. "... key-card to the kingdom." she tells her. Just before a strange look comes across Freddy's face, she looks over to where Frankie had came.
Just a creasing of her brow. Then she blinks away a moment. She comes right back, "Uh... no wire head but there is a cowboy givin' off some serious creep vibes, man." she tells Frankie. "You should see him in a bit, heads up." she gestures in the direction that she had came, where she presumably saw this 'cowboy'.
Then she is gone again and this time by Damian, "So... time for a shit sandwich. Frankie has eyes on the key-card from Chow-Mein. So that is good. Problem is? There is this freaky cowboy throwing off some seriously weird menacing vibes coming our way. Already told Frankie, oh and no sign of wires. Just that cowboy. Shit sandwich. Good thing, shit, good thing." she explains with hand gestures like she were stacking items for a sammich.
"Rob!" Frankie hisses as she darts toward Chow. "Steer clear of him!" And she needs a keycard. Thankfully, it's not around his neck - Freddy has a good eye. Frankie scrambles behind the man and stoops down, black-nailed hands easing the lanyard from his pocket. She holds it between her hands, unsure if the item is visible. And down to the next door. Frankie saw the plans on Damian's phone briefly, but she has a good memory. Trained, even.
Freddy also informs Damian, "Oh, right... I think his name was Rob? That is what Frankie said. I think she said Rob. Could of been Bob?" Numbers, great. Names? Not so much.
"Rob." Damian's own whispered voice in the hallways echoes what Frankie did, though maybe lower, less attitude. It's a confirmation, he knows him, sort of. It does put concern on his features. "Keep an eye on him, Freddy. He's dangerous. Like really dangerous." Damian continues moving though, now time is that much more of the essence. Where there is one, there is more. "And watch out, could be others." That's a final whisper as he heads for the evidence locker, the apron, passing through whatever walls are in his way. No time to consider how weird it still is.
As Frankie nabs the keycard and makes her way through the halls, she eventually come to pass one of the officers. He doesn't seem to be leaving like the rest are, what with the procedure. Instead, he's checking doors for something. He is currently between her and the basement.
Seeing that Damian is secured she tells him, "Gonna be another set of eyes for She-Ra." she reassures him before once again, she zips out. Seeing that Chow is none the wiser for the key-card being slipped off his person. Seeing Frankie taking care of herself, she lingers but she doesn't do so openly. Not with this Rob character around. "Gonna watch your back, gonna keep eyes on Rob where I can."
That means she is not so willy nilly about zipping to and fro. Nope, now she is utilizing corners, walls, desks to hide behind to try and keep tabs on Rob. Squatting down or sinking into a floor if the pressure gets too hot so she can flitter back to her comrades to give them updates on where Rob was seen last and where it looks like he is going...
The cowboy made his way casually into the police station, looking around as if he was searching for something of note. "I wonder if they took the bait?" He muttered to himself, out of sight of Frankie and Damian, but not from Freddy, who was ducking and weaving behind furniture and walls, saying out of his line of sight as much as she could. Of course, everything she heard and saw would be relayed back to the Sin-Eaters, so it was almost.../almost/ like they were there themselves. The police officer that had been going through the doors, looking for something near the entrance to the basement, swivelled around and moved towards the sound Frankie had made. Of course he couldn't see her, but any sound really would be suspicious. Luckily she knew how to properly utilize that to her advantage, and was able to sneak behind him, to the sublevels. A couple sets of stairs later, and she stood before the door that required the keycard.
In the floors above, the ghost meandered between rooms for a little while, seemingly at random. After perusing a fair share of them, he nodded, placing a hand on his hip. "Alrighty, well now, let's see what Lady Luck has in store for me today..." His accent was thick, almost Cajun. The coin he was flipping between his fingers was flipped into the air. It began to glow red, and he snatched it out of the air, opening his hand and looking at the coin. "I see..." He said, moving towards the basement.
Whatever Freddy relays to him this time, Damian's eyes light up for a minute, but he only nods, snatching the apron. What does he do with the apron? Good question. He puts it inside himself. Like eww. And then he's aware the Cowboy is headed his way. It's time to go. The easiest way out of here, whatever that means. Probably the way he came. He seems to be relying a touch on what Freddy tells him, but ultimately walls to the outside, whatever that means.
That's Norbert's signal. The crow launches itself through doors and walls, shadowy ink-form seeking out its Anchor to this world, the crow-daughter, Frankie. Bursting out of a wall beside her, the crow communicates a series of impressions and images. It's time to get out. Frankie turns, hurrying upward again. Time to get gone. Especially with the cowboy up there, waiting. Adrenaline pounds her heart.
The ghost, seeing the police officer from before, decided that if he were to encounter a Sin-Eater, a hostage would be a wonderful addition to his repertoire. That was, after all, one of his hobbies while he was alive. The police officer was around the corner from Frankie, and had moved down another hallway, and was still checking doors for whatever reason. Perhaps he was the designated search and rescue, ensuring the building was empty? Maybe he'd forgotten how the procedures actually worked. Regardless, he was ripe for the possessing. Much to Rob's enjoyment, the police officer also happened to have a holstered gun. Rob /was/ a cowboy in life...The cop stopped what he was doing, and stretched. "Aaaah, that feels good. Should do this more often." He muttered to himself in his Cajun accent...through the voice of somebody who was very distinctly /not/ Cajun.
The ghost crow stays on Frankie's shoulder, huddled close to her body. He's aware of the danger they're in, and he's silent and alert. Frankie moves as fast as she dares, the alarms helping hide her footfalls. She's but a shadow, a shade in her own right. A gift from her death and her Bargain.
Walls, walls, walls, so many walls between them, but when Freddy tells him what's going on, Damian can't abandon Frankie. See, this is the exact problem with things! Though, he probably wouldn't leave anyone behind. Silently cursing himself, he moves through the third wall. *schoop* Then there he is, Rob, but not Rob. Damian's moving silently past him too, just ensuring that being close is enough in case shit hits the fan. Even as he sneaks by, Damian's eyes go to the cop, to Rob, to watch him warily. But there's more. Those eyes turn red, blood red, until there is no pupils, it's like his eyes are bleeding. Too many questions, not enough answers. He needs answers.
As Damian's eyes begin to glow red and bleed, he sees into the ghost of Rob. The name 'Royal Spades' comes to bear. In life, Rob was a consummate gambler, much like the spider-Geist described him to be. He was always winning major poker tournaments in the wild west, around the time six-shooters were a big thing. He was a card shark, able to count, able to cheat, able to read. He was a genius when it came to mathematics, and those around him who knew him in any capacity would say that he could have become a professor. Alas, booze, women, and gun slinging were too attractive to the man, and he took to the life of a mysterious criminal who made rooms hush when he walked in. He was never wanted for any crimes, having been too keen to stay ahead of the sheriffs, but that never stopped the rumours from spreading. Rob 'Royal Spades' Craig was a man to be reckoned with, not only for his criminal mastermind...but for his fearsome method of winning every Texas Hold-Em tourney that he attended.
The silver dollar that Rob keeps on him, spinning through his fingers, is an actual Twilight object. When the Vikings buried their dead with swords and treasures, they would take those with them to the land of the dead. Much of Rob's emotional attachment exists within that coin. While it is definitely no Anchor, it provides him a measure of power, though not all of his powers rely on the coin.
Rob-Cop turns and begins walking towards Frankie, unaware of her presence. The blaring alarms mask her footsteps as she slinks away as quickly as her feet could carry her. As he walks though, Rob-Cop's eyes narrow. Had he seen something? A flash, a small object phasing through walls? Maybe. It was hard to tell, but he continued walking. Rob attempted to draw the gun out of the holster once. Then twice. Then he had to look down, realizing there was a safety on the holster as well. "Darn. Not quite like they used to make em." He said, flicking the holster open. Lightning fast, Rob-Cop drew the gun, spinning it around his fingers like a professional trick-shooter. Roll forwards. Roll backwards, around the back of the hand, back in the holster. "Weight's off. Too light. It'll have to do, I s'pose." He muttered to himself, walking towards the basement entrance.
Frankie tries not to look back. To focus on getting out of here. No time for sightseeing; what she needs is distance. She continues upward, keeping her breathing even and quiet.
Damian's not about to relay any information he got on Rob now, nor is he wanting to stick around to ask more questions, either. He might not see Frankie or Norbert, he might see both, but he knows, thanks to Freddy, she's somewhere nearby and not currently in trouble. That'll do. Time to go. Sneaking down the hallway towards a fire exit, or anything. Not like another alarm is going to raise any eyebrows. People could still be stuck in the building! Fire. Aaaaaah!
Rob-Cop stopped as he put his hand on the doorknob that lead to the basement levels. He looked down at his uniform, and pulled his nametag up for him to see. "This is interestin'." His gaze turned to the radio on his shoulder. "Very interestin." He clicked his radio. "One-C-Two-Two-Six, Code Six Code Two, we have a four-one-three-B inside the station, I repeat, a four-one-three-B. Suspect pulled the fire alarm to clear the building, and is currently attempting escape from the premises. Four-Four-Four, Four-Four-Five, I repeat, we have a Four-Four-Four and a Four-Four-Five. Set detail, watch the doors to the premises." Rob let his accent drop, Officer Nyle's voice taking over. Whatever he said, it likely meant trouble. He turned away from the door to the basement, and began walking back the way he came, wearing the officer's skin.
Frankie keeps going until she's on the ground floor; then she's going another flight up. Probably fewer eyes on the second story windows is her logic. She tries to find a room at the back of the building - one with a fire escape would be great.
Damian has as much trouble as Rob the cop tracking Frankie. He might see her crow, but who knows. He's not going to be much help. He pauses though, hearing what Rob says and shakes his head. Shit. Oh well, he's no help. He moves his way quietly to a wall not likely to be guarded and passes through. Maybe, outside, he can cause a distraction.
Frankie can follow directions. She's just good at navigation, even in the Underworld, and a police station with clearly marked escape plans are a lot easier. Quite a bit less perilous, too... at least, if you're invisible. Which she is. So she studies the map briefly and makes her way to the roof-hatch. Norbert, eager to be free of this place, launches himself through the hatch before it's even open and takes wing. He's looking for Damian.
Frankie climbs up onto the roof and heads for the edge, finding the ladder. She waits a moment to see if she's attracted any suspicion before starting down the ladder.
Meanwhile back at Doom headquarters, or rather outside the police station, Damian is moving among the police officers, but not too close, looking for signs of Frankie, up, down and all around. He might notice Norbert fly up and that's either a good sign or a really bad one. He moves more in that direction, still looking for signs of movement, invisible movement, vibrations, sounds, anything. Ascertain where Frankie is and how he can help her, if he has to. Listening to the cops speak as he roams among them.
Rob, after having possessed the police officer long enough, exited his body and made his way around the building, walking through people and giving them each a chill. Sorry Mr. Officer, but Rob doesn't have time to play nice. Flipping the coin between his fingers once more, he flipped it up in the air casually. As it was in midair, he looked up and saw Norbert flying around. "Gotcha." He said, making his way through the crowd, following Norbert's direction.
So with Norbert moving to go find Damian and Rob catching sight of the psychopomp and following to lead him off to the apron smuggling Reaper, what perhaps Rob had forgotten to think of was there was a Freddy nearby.
Not a generic kind of Freddy a Gatekeeper kind that doesn't take too kindly to creepy ass ghosts possessing police officers willy nilly. You just crossed a line, dude.
Now, what and where and who sees this are up for debate but one minute Freddy is not there and the next? She is screaming like a banshee and flinger herself at Rob. Now in her mind it probably looks real damn cool, like something that Scarlet Johansson pulls off as Black Widow in the Avengers sort of cool. All like slick moves and flips and all that.
What really happens is: "YOU GODDAMN PIECE OF SHIT MOTHERFUCKER ASSSHOLE COCKSUCKER SON OF A BITCH!", she just went full Yosemite Sam mode. Rob, thy monkey on your back, it's name be Freddy. She is not a martial artist and probably has never been in a legit fight in her life beyond hair pulling and a lot of screaming but she throws everything she has at him. Pale arms latching on like pale snakes trying to strike at prey. A leg there, trying to wrap around his waist. Trying to gain a hold on him like she was expecting a rodeo ride. She just needs to hold on for about eight seconds!
Rob wasn't expecting a woman flying at five-hundred miles per hour to latch onto him. It wasn't something a person could expect, really. His coin glowed Grey in that instant, and his eyes went wide. For once, there wasn't a sly smile on his face. His hat was nearly blown off his head when she came reeling in, and he only had a moment to react before he'd be carried away. Instead of drawing his weapons, or even breaking the grapple, he seemed to simply be unable to recover from the sudden shock of being tackled by the bullet train that is Freddy. Unbeknownst to her, however, is Rob likes to gamble. Rob likes to cheat. And Royal Spades himself? He's quick with his hands. Sure, her astral form could dissipate, but the card he'd slide into her soul, it would remain there 'til needed. The Ace up Rob's sleeve.
Norbert squawks once, wheeling overhead the police station. The alarm is still blaring. The gathered police that vacated the building are still milling about outside. Soon, someone will turn off the alarm. Norbert wings back down to Frankie, who nods as she hops the last few inches onto the ground. She starts threading her way away from the police station, toward the alley where she first waited.
Well, shit. Hard to not notice a Banshee moving towards Rob. Damian shakes his head, watching Norbert, and the sight movement of the fire escape as something comes down it. He loses her on the ground, but not Norbert. Towards the alley. He can't help Freddy, but it pauses him. At least, not without making a problem with the police. Does he look towards the hand with the coin? Maybe. He's torn for a moment, but now's not the time, and Freddy can end that travel anytime she wants. He starts moving his way towards the alley too. Better not to be here much longer. They got what they came for. Rob's time will come soon.
With Damian and Frankie back on the streets, the cops outside are congregating to figure out just what all was going on. Bomb threat and such means teams are brought in to search the building, first responders, all of that. So the damn place is a circus.
Though Frankie and Damian can see a streak of black erupt from the top of the police building. Moving -fast- and if they really squint? They can see Freddy, still on Rob's back, carrying him through the sky up... up, heading toward the north and up to the clouds.
So, hey, at least Rob is out of the picture? For now at least.
"Caught me off guard ya did, little miss rocket. You know, when a gentleman an a lady first meet, they'd usually exchange words instead o' feelins." Rob smiled once he got his bearings, even if he was being launched up into the air at break-neck speeds. "Seems you like to live a dangerous life though, what with all this here super-hugging." Rob took hold of the side of Freddy's face. "Tell you what love, if you ever get tired of playin for the good guys, you can come give this back to me." Being the cowboy Rob is, he actually reached down and planted a smooch on Freddy's lips. "If you don't give that back...well, that's your loss honey." A final, devilish smirk before he fades away...
Freddy's eyes go wide, perhaps put off by how -calm- Rob is being through this all. She was expecting more of a struggle and she is a smart enough girl to know something is 'not right'. "Fuck you, -Rob-. You don't go possessing mortals in my side of town.", the Gatekeeper snarls at him. The touch to her face has her shaking her head to try and escape his touch. "Don't.." then he is kissing her and her eyes fly open. The kiss is most definitely not returned at all. "BLAH!" she lets him go, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand over and over again. "GROSS!" then *BLIP* she is gone.
It is a few seconds after that they may hear faint coughing from the manhole cover that hides where Freddy had hung herself. "... God.. fuck..." the sounds of dry heaving. "... oh god... oh god.." she ascends the ladder. Starting to push up with her shoulder from below the manhole cover to try and get it up and open. "It stinks so bad in here!" she complains.
Well, dumbass, what did you expect you were going to smell when coming back from being technically dead? Roses and fresh baked cookies?
Frankie comes up to the manhole cover and starts prying it up, glancing around. Hopefully they're not being observed. Granted, she is still invisible. "You were really helpful back there," she begins, her voice cutting through the noise. "But what part of 'be careful' did you not understand? That was a stupid move!"
"I did say be careful. I did say he is incredibly dangerous, didn't I? I remember saying it." Damian's tone is disapproving from where he stands on the other side, help Frankie heft the cover off the manhole. He looks Freddy over as if she might carry some visible mark of her interaction with Rob, but shakes his head. He's not right pleased, not that she can see any of it. He's invisible.
Freddy coughs and gags still as she crawls out of the sewer. Gasping for fresher air in the trash strewn alley that smells faintly of the wee from that bum that is probably STILL sleeping on the bench just outside the alley. She shivers and wiggles her arms. A jingle jangle of braclets and jewelery as she walks around. A finger in that 'one second' held up.
"He was going to go for Damian." she says, looking to Frankie. "Well, first he just possesses a cop like... dude, really? If he would of got to him and if he would of got that apron? All this would be for nothin'. Figured I'd give what I could a shot rather than leave Damian there by himself" she explains her reasoning. Why is she panting, out of breath? "You said he was a bad dude... if he is such a bad dude for you to say he is a bad dude, if he would of kicked your ass or something and gotten the apron...", her hands on her knees now. "... I feel fuckin' sick." she admits. A little shaken up? Clearly. She is wiping her lips again which only causes her to smear her red lipstick to one side.
Air sickness? Maybe. She spits on the ground. Such a lady!
Frankie starts moving the manhole cover back into place with a grunt. "Rob is one of God-Eater's five Horsemen," she explains, pausing to pant. "'God-Eater' is about as bad as you'd think from the name. Single Horsemen on their own can rip most of us apart. You tackled one. Did he do anything to you? Are you okay?" Norbert lands down by Freddy's feet. "Caw," he says.
"I can handle myself, and he was going on a hunch with Norbert, I'm sure. I snuck past him once." Damian sighs a little. "He's not just a ghost?" Well, that's a way to explain it. "?but this isn't really the place to discuss this." He gives Freddy an assessment. "Sick, is that normal?" He doesn't possess her abilities, so it's a fair question. "And Rob would have had a tough time getting it out of me, or my Geist." Damian's not terribly sure how that particularly ability works. "Either way, he had to find me first, and I wasn't about to stick around for that." He's still studying Freddy, as he adds, "We should maybe go somewhere else."
Freddy shakes her head, pushing back her dyed black hair in one swift motion. Standing up straight. "He offered me a job and..." she pulls a face of disgust. "He...", she looks between them. That look on her face is one of pure revulsion. ".. he fuckin' kissed me, dude. Like.. fuckin' gnarly! I have never kissed a...". She goes a little cross eyed, upper lip quivering. ".. dead guy." she croaks out.
Apparently any dealings with any 'card' that was slipped into her soul? She didn't catch that or feel it in the tangle of screaming, cussing and such.
Looking between Frankie and Damian she exhales , wiping her mouth again with the back of her hand in hopes it will erase that not-so-fond memory. It at least makes her feel better, even if her lipstick is smeared to Hell and back which only makes her appear that much more unhinged. "I so need a shower or something. Hot.. hot shower.".
"...That sounds like all kinds of not good," Frankie says after a moment's thought. She glances around for witnesses, and, should they be alone, phases back in from the shadows of stillness. "You didn't take the offer, did you? I'm guessing not, but I like to be sure with these kinds of things." She glances over at Damian. "Where do we go to talk? I don't want that apron thing in the cafe."
"He what now?" Not being able to see Damian's expressions make this difficult, but he glances towards the spot Frankie was last. He's concerned because he sees things in everything these guys do. Not that he has a clue what it means. He just falls silent for a moment, pondering it. The only conclusion he can come to is, "Rob had a penchant for women in life. It was, uh, one of his weaknesses." Now how do you suppose he knows that? "I hope that's all it was, but?" Paranoia reigns supreme. A nod at what Frankie says, he almost forgot about the offer. "What kind of job? And my place, for now. I'm not sure what to do with the apron. I can only think of one place it might be safe, so we either destroy it, or take it somewhere."
A sudden gurgling noise interrupts the talks, the hobo on the bench stirring to wakefulness. He mumbles something incoherent, gets up, and walks away, dragging his feet. The bottle is left on the bench.
"He said, like, if I ever get tired of playing for the good guys or some shit. To come see him or find him or something." Freddy explains that to Frankie, "But fuck no I didn't take his offer." she purses her lips. Looking to Damian, frowning a little at more of Rob's personal history coming to light. "I'm guessing just, I dunno, helping him and this God-Eater dude?" she looks between Frankie and Damian. Picking at her blouse to sniff at it and frowning a little for the faint odor of sewer that still lingers on her faintly. "Where do you live? I got my rust bucket." she gestures to the other side of the alley she had come walking towards, probably parked on the next street over.
The psychopomp Norbert that had cawed at her earlier is noticed, finally, Freddy squats down, smiling. Attempting to reach out like she thinks she can pet the damn thing or at least give it a scritch.
Norbert quorks at Freddy, leaving its beak open. The crow ruffles its wings, becoming material for the moment and tipping its head up toward Freddy's fingers. Frankie's eyebrows go up. "Okay," she tells Damian, without looking at him. "Let's head to your place, then."
Damian's eyes invisibly flicker over to the drunk and the bench he vacated. "Cyber Vault Securities." She can probably GPS it or something. Not that hard to find. "I really don't like this, but you're involved now, so you need to be filled in. And we have to figure out what to do this?" The shadows starts to dissipate from him. There he is, after making sure it's clear. "Come on." He starts heading for his car. It's no rust bucket.
It's really not that far to Damian's. There's a lot of security to the place too. The business has state of the art security, but then again, consider what it is. Reinforced doors, all that, and it would do absolutely nothing against a ghost. He leads them up to the loft once they arrive. It's a custom place. One third living space, one third computers, one-third a gym of unbelievable proportions. For training. "We need to figure out what we're doing with this apron, and soon. We knows what it's an anchor for, and worse, James could have some tie to it. I'm opting at destroying it." Even as he says that, he start pulling it out of his body. That's just weird!
Frankie seems familiar enough with the place; no gawking, at least. Norbert, too. He materializes again, strutting around the spacious main room like he owns it. Frankie pauses to watch Damian pull the apron out of himself. "...That's just weird," she informs him, blinking twice. "Destroying it sounds good. I don't know where else to put it that it would be safe. Also, it's really fucking gross."
Well, Freddy had insisted she take her own car. Some people are like that. The truth of it is she 1) has perfume in her car and 2) a change of clothes. She makes quick work of changing her top to a Motorhead t-shirt and her skirt that smells like sewer (since a bit brushed the bottom edges, gross) out for a pair of blue jeans that look like they should just be tossed out given the amount of holes at the knees, thighs, back pocket. Boots loosely on, she catches up. Smelling like patchouli and something mixed together but not too damn bad. A little bit goes a long ways.
Beats smelling like dookie.
Now, she does gawk. She has never really been in some high tech establishment and certainly nothing as fancy as Damian's digs here. As Damian pulls that apron from outside of himself she looks between them. "I can hide it at home." she tells them both. "Though the way you guys are talking is like this thing is a hot potato. The Abernathy Estate has a bunch of weird shit in it, figured maybe, I dunno, the residue or resonance of the thing could be masked for it? I have hiding spots there.".
Damian glances around and then nods. "Destroy it. All it does is weaken Wirehead's clutches to this world, and maybe James's." He pauses on Freddy though. "It's an anchor, I don't think you can mask an anchor from the ghost it belongs to, and you do not want Wirehead showing up at the Abernathy estate. Especially not unannounced and possibly in the middle of the night." His hand flickers absently towards one of the bathrooms. '"You can take a shower if you like. Feel free." Damian moves off and grabs a giant knife, a blade only meant for killing, really. "So destroy it? I see no real bonus in keeping it? Only place I can think of that might keep it safe is Lowgate, and I'm not sure Yama will appreciate me sending more trouble his way.""
"Not your estate," Frankie tells Freddy, shaking her head. "The ghost attached to this thing likes to redecorate using barb wire and chunks of people." She purses her lips, looking to Damian. "If we do destroy it... it has to be fast. Wirehead could come." She pulls a knife out of a sheath under her jacket, nodding. "Stitches."
As they were speaking about how to dispose of the apron, suddenly Wirehead walks around from behind a corner in the room. He stares, cold and viciously at the group, a pained hiss escaping from behind his teeth.
Barbed wire seems to coil out from all the cracks and the shadows and the places unseen, disturbing Damian's abode as it scratches along the floor. Barbed wire also seems to sprout from underneath the Sin-Eater's clothing, coiling together with the wire that snaked along the ground, scuffing the paint as it went. Wirehead lifted his one hand into the air, palm up. Time to get squishing.
Wire starts to creep around Freddy and worse, under her clothes. The sharp barbs dragging against her skin, causing her to hiss and cry out in pain and unpleasant surprise. "Dude! Stop!" she squeals, the tone she uses one that is meant to say 'this is not necessary, so not necessary' but it just comes off as whining. Her arms bound up painfully along with her legs, thighs hugging down on barbwire between them. Baring her teeth she closes her eyes and focuses, "Stop..." she hisses as ectoplasm starts to spill from the superficial wounds made. The effect like dripping blood or wax as they start to trace along the lines of barbwire, back to Wirehead and seeping into him.
Damian already was expecting such, he was prepared, just not prepared enough, it means his knife can't strike the fabric, but that doesn't start plasm from leaking from his pores at the pull, like blood sweat, trailing down his body as he appears to bleed before that blood-like plasm coagulates, forming a barrier around the man. He attempts to turn to look at Wirehead, all the while struggling to cut the apron. The shroud fighting against the wires that climb him, as if opposed. His Geist struggling against the ghost. And it is a powerful ally to have, too.
Barbed wire shoots out and wraps around Frankie's left arm, the hand of which grips the knife. Pain lances over her right wrist as the wire latches on there, too; a whip of the stuff uncoils around her leg. Frankie's lips pull back from her teeth in a feral snarl. Plasm flexes over her form, calling forth her Geist's link to the primeval forces of nature to armor her beginning to pump more in to lend her strength.
Norbert, struck by wire, lets forth a loud, "CAW!" of protest and pain.
Wirehead felt something streaking through the plasmic tendrils, and while it yearned to rend their flesh, it knew to strike fear in the one who would try her hand to control his mind. In a flash of speed, his hand twisted around at an uncomfortable angle, making disgustingly wet snapping noises as it did. His palm faced Freddy, and when his fingers closed into a fist, fear entered Freddy's mind, irrational but very, very real, and it was for the wires that surrounded them.
Whatever Wirehead has done to Freddy? She is still at first, starting to tremble. Her hands clenching into white knuckled fists as she tries to block it out for as long as she can. "STOP!" she finally screams. Breathing starting to become elevated, pulse skyrocketing. "STOP IT! LET ME GO!" she cries out as tears start to stream from her. Blood seeps out of the minor wounds on her flesh, fusing to the barb wire she has come to fear. The offering of her life to try and control Wirehead is for naught.
There is a surge of ectoplasm along with the blood but...
Nothing happens. Instead Freddy begins to twitch and make noises as her eyes look around frantically. Unbeknownst to the others, she is now smelling pain, tasting fear, the rusted barbwire that has become her bane she can now hear it's color as all her senses start to flipflop randomly. Causing her to scream again as her world gets turned inside out and upside down, tears pour over her cheeks. That raccoon eyed make up of hers is running down her cheeks, chasing after the tears. "No... nooo, no... no." she starts to cough, gagging on how looking at Wirehead makes her taste bitter bile and the coppery flavor of blood.
Damian is not having anything of this. Concentration and pain. More actual blood is poured into the shroud and Damian is gone as it wraps fully around him. Well gone to some, everyone here sees him enter Twilight and then pass through the wires, letting them clang to the ground. He's not waiting this time, heading for the Anchor to pick it up and rematerialize, to slash to it bits.
Plasm keeps flowing through Frankie's veins, augmenting her muscle. She snarls, lashing out with her knife, ripping her arm and leg free of the wire, hair flying like a wild thing. She runs for Damian and the apron, dodging tendrils of wire. But for how long?
The ghost crow squawks again, phasing immaterial and bursting free of its barbed bonds.
Wirehead sees Damian and Frankie bust out of their metal cages, and he sees them go for his anchor. It's then that he moves to intercept. Once more, he raises his hand, and pushes his palm out. An aura of terror escapes his body and crashes into the Sin-Eaters, but their mental fortifications are more than enough to deal with his paltry efforts.
At this point, Freddy is doing more damage to herself. Thrashing as she is. The barbs cutting deeper into her skin. Causing blood to drip on Damian's clean floor. Oops, sorry dude. She has been screaming, this is true. Everything has cycles and from fear it comes to threats, anger fueled by fear that blinds her rationality.
"Stop it you son of a biiiiiitch!" she screams. "I'm going to fucking SMOKE YOU! YOU PIECE OF SHIIIIT! Let me gooooo!" she sobs again. Twisting side to side like maybe, just maybe, her bonds will drop by some weird fit of mercy or maybe she is just that darn scary (Ha!) or, well, maybe her last ditch effort at controlling the ghost might just of paid off (nope!).
Where there is a will, there's a way. Damian shrugs off those tendrils into his mind with that will. His Geist and his own. So much so, that Geist appears, silhouetted in flames and consumed by shadows and black. Staring out of that mask at Wirehead. A flare of defiance. This human is HIS.
There's nothing to be done with the apron. No place to keep it a ghost can't get, no reason to keep it around and this can end this, now! Wirehead in full and be dealt with later. Grabbing his knife again, Damian falls to the ground on his knees and jabs the knife into it. The tearing shroud of a sharp blade going across leather can be heard again and again. Damian has emotion now, a scowl. So much no.
Frankie skids to a halt as the apron is torn and Wirehead vanishes. She gives Damian a fierce grin before turning around and hastening to Freddy's side. "Calm down," she says, voice pitched to be soothing. Nobody will ever believe it if anyone mentions Frankie being... nice. "Stay still. I'll get the wire off." Norbert flaps back down through the ceiling.
Now getting barbed wire off that has creep under and through clothes is going to be a challenge. May need some wire cutters! At least Freddy is either taking Frankie's advice and calming down or she has succumbed to a state of shock. Bound up like she were trapped in a wire cocoon of thorny emotion, she isn't going anywhere. Even if the wires are pulled at, the barbs scratching over her skin, she barely seems to respond other than staring off into nothing.
Damian stands, finally. He's been slashing the apron to shreds and he admires his work for a moment. Small victory, for once. He turns around and looks over the rest of the place, eyes checking Frankie and then settling on Freddy. The one in trouble. Damian is surprisingly handy and cutters like what she needs are present. He moves over to a cupboard, pulls open a drawer and pulls out metal cutters. He hands them over to Frankie and he collects the now useless apron. "And that guys, is a minion of one of the horseman, Freddy. Just so you understand when I say caution." Oh sure, kick a horse when they're down.
Frankie carefully cuts wires, wincing every time she has to dislodge one of the deeper ones. "This actually went a little better than last time we ran into Wirehead. Nobody died this time," she says. "Now Wirehead has one more anchor left as far as we can tell - it's a huge knife. Kind of an axe for anyone not as big as the man who wielded it. That's James Wells, the Red Horseman. Rob is the Gray Horseman. They both serve a guy going by Eckhart, the God-Eater."
Is Freddy even freakin' listening? She just keeps staring. Twitching from time to time when a barb is dislodged or a piece is needed to scrap across her skin. "... this shirt was vintage." she replies. "It was one of my favorites." she complains. Now it is cut up, holes revealing more pale skin and dark purple bits of bra here and there. Why is she only staring at that spot on the far wall? Easy, silly. So she doesn't see the barbwire. Like needing to get a shot: don't look at the needle. Just get it done.
"Dickhead is a much bigger asshole than Rob. Rob seems like a giant pussy by comparison." she murmurs. OH! See, she was listening! Just needed to bitch about her shirt getting ruined. Nevermind the screaming her head off, getting cut up, sacrificing pieces of her health and life, right? Nah.
"Yes, James controls him. Controls a lot of ghosts, I'm assuming. The horseman are bad news. And that is just a hint of their power." Damian is really trying to drive the point home. "And yes, the God-eater sounds that bad. Eats Bound Geist's." Damian's going to burn the apron just to be sure, but for now he sets it aside. They are kind of giving the short version here. "Rob is not a fighter, I suspect. They all have their strengths." He turns back to look at Freddy, examine her. "Just like we do. I'm guessing part of his is possession. But I assure you, Rob is the bigger danger. Don't underestimate him."
Frankie carefully clips another section of wire, shaking her head. She ignores the complaints about the shirt. "Rob can alter the laws of probability, and supposedly that's one of the reasons the God-Eater is unscathed. You caught him by surprise, which was good. I think if he can alter things, it's a lot worse." She glances over her shoulder at Damian. "...What was that about Rob liking women?"
Freddy probably realizes she got lucky with Rob and not so much with Wirehead, at least this time. The snip of every wire. Feeling what she fears on her flesh. She suppresses a shudder and the desire to vomit. Closing her eyes, hoping that will help but her mix-n-match senses are causing more calamity in her mind that is just so frazzled after all the events tonight. To seasoned Sin-Eaters, it may be evident that Freddie is still largely new to being 'in the field' as opposed to theory and study.
Welcome to the big leagues, girl! "... are all five still alive?" she asks softly, a tinge of hope in her voice that some good news will come from that question.
"Rob, the Gray Horseman was born Rob Craig and known in life as Royal Spades. I'll be researching that later?" Damian assures the crowd and then carries on, still watching Freddy. "No surprise, a card shark, Texas Hold-Em to be specific. But he could have been a professor, a mathematician, his penchant for booze, women and guns prevented it. So he chose the life of a criminal. In the Wild West, he's that old. He NEVER lost." He emphasizes that last point, sharing a meaningful look with Frankie. How the hell he knows all that is anyone's guess since it seems to be brand new knowledge. "He's smart and cunning, but he has a weakness to be exploited." A nod then. "Yes, all five are alive and well. Jessica, the White. Skye, the Black, Rob, the Gray, James, the Red, and Sylas, the Pale."
"For some values of 'alive'," Frankie says, tone a touch on the wry side. "We know quite a bit about James. Not much about Jessica - she's a ghost, but she can walk around the living world by enchanting her bones or something weird like that, and she carries traps in her body. Skye we know was a warrior -- felled every foe she's faced or something like that, only died because you can't sword a desert to death. Sylas Goodman, Pale Horseman, an animal trainer in life who's an excellent tracker with weird powers of animal control now that he's dead. They might each have items of power - Skye's sword and armor, Sylas' beaded necklace that lets him summon animals and shit. We should really hold some kind of info session about this shit now that we know more." She glances over at Damian. "Remember when it was just the one big serial killer ghost and Wirehead? And we haven't even gotten to Eckhart."
Freddy starts to move her arms and legs a bit when they are free and she doesn't feel the barbed wire against her so readily. She attempts to sit up and it is clear that those little wounds on her skin that were scratches have long since clotted but she looks paler that normal. Sick, one would assume. Possibly a side effect of offering up bits of her own life? Could be just how the room is still spinning and the fear of barbwire still grips her and always will, at least, until Wirehead is gone for good.
"Some stories of things like this correspond with elements. Each one signifies an element or some sort of parable, myth, lore that reveals a weakness." she murmurs, keeping her eyes closed but at least she is sitting up with just a few strands of wire left.
"At any rate, a pow wow would be good for everyone... who is Eckhart besides having almost a bad a name as mine?".
"Yes, so far we have come and still so far away." It's not really a musing, Damian sounds annoyed by it. "Much is known and much is not known." He looks around his place for a moment and then just starts cleaning up the barb wire. The stuff on the floor, to pile it elsewhere. "Eckhart is the God-Eater, though I suspect he goes by many names, Edward, Elliot." A shake of his head. "He is the one who has given the five horseman their immense power. What he's after, I'm not sure, but he eats Geist's, bound Geist's." That last part is left to hang. Not a particularly lovely thought.
"He has two Keystones," Frankie says, finished picking bits of wire out of Freddy. She stands up, nudging some wire aside carefully with her boot. "He makes toxins and injects people with them. He can cause hallucinations, seems like. He shows up wrapped in bandages with a silver mask and flies buzzing around him. They protect him." Frankie wipes her knife blade on her jeans and tucks it back into its sheath.
Hearing what Eckhart is about has Freddy frowning. Still not looking at the barbwire. No sir! She doesn't need another freak out. She looks trained, emotionally as well. It's been a rollercoaster ride tonight! "What... what happens when someone... eats... a Bound Geist?" she asks to them both. "Do you die... for good?" she seems both curious and scared of that notion.
Free of her bindings she gets to her feet and paws at herself, it looks methodical like she is looking for any stray bits of metal that may be in her clothes. "Thank you." she says, the gratitude heartfelt as she finally turns around to look at them both.
"Thank you," Frankie replies. "You were a lot of help today. I'm curious as to how you did it all." Norbert the crow flaps over to land on Frankie's shoulder again. "I should probably get going."
Damian nods when Frankie is finishing, confirming all she shares. He tosses the barbed wire out on the patio for now. "That mask allows him to take many forms. Maybe only humanoid, I'm not sure. My theory is, he has a gestalt Geist, a combing of two Geists into one somehow." A shrug, as he turns back to Freddy. "You become vacant, I'm not sure if this process kills you, but since he seems to torture everyone to death, it's probably not a concern. I don't think he cares to keep you alive." He looks to Frankie. "Be careful, yeah?" It's been a bad day.