<OOC> Wyck says, "ok. So I need some specifics from ya. A) When are you coming to investigate the room? (time of day, how much time from the death, etc.) 2. How are you gaining entry?"
It's pretty late at night, Damian and Frankie had to dump the body after incident someplace safe. Then clean up. They arrive at the hotel late in the night, but then again, the cover of darkness is preferred, even if they don't need it. Parking the car somewhere remote, they make their way to the hotel with the cover of night, even if they don't need it, invisible as they are to people and technology alike. Damian is cover is mostly black clothes for a mission like this. Black pants, black shirt, black coat, and leather gloves. Fingerprints can be bad. For a computer nerd, he looks like he does stuff like this a bit too often.
Frankie is wearing pretty much what she was earlier in the night, except fresh and with less blood. No blood, even. Her still-damp hair is pulled into a low bun, mostly concealed by her gray knit cap. Entirely concealed by being invisible. She also has gloves. It's kind of weird to be wandering around sans Norbert, but he's got other things to be doing.
\\The parking lot of the Moonlite Lounge isn’t exactly packed with cars. There’s the usual half-dozen or so for those who are using the facility for its intended purposes and should be done in an hour at most. Then there’s the adjacent lot with maybe a few more who are probably all at the lounge. Late as it may be, ya can’t stop the Moonlite. Two lights keep the parking lot well lit but the area behind the motel behind the higher-number rooms, is a vacant lot that eventually runs into a railroad track.
A scan of the parking lot happens, a note of anyone milling about or movement, but Damian heads for the intended target with purpose. He knows what kind of place this is and his not looking to spend more time than is needed her. They reach the door they are looking for, presumably, and Damian has the key with him to find the right one. The key is inconsequential past that. He knows Frankie is near him, if not where, precisely. Stopping at the door to look around, left and right and then to listen. Just in case. If nothing can be heard inside, or even if it can, Damian presses a hand towards the door and passes through it, just like a ghost, as if intangible. One second as if solid hands might strike the door, the next, not.
Frankie waits a few moments, flexing her gloved hands and concentrating on the plasm in her blood. Invisible also becomes intangible, and she steps through the wall next to the door. She's not really sure what they're going to find here.
Damian’s eyes go dim for a moment as he passes through the material of the door. It’s an odd sensation to those unfamilair with passing through solid objects, but one does get used to it over time. As his vision clears, no more than a second perhaps, the dim light of the interior of the hotel is broken by...a candle’s flame?
Two men are currently trying to search the room and their only illumination is an old candle burning upon what looks to be a cheap ceramic skull - like something that you’d find in a halloween shop or maybe something for aquariums. The flame flickers and gutters a second as the two geists enter. The two men are dressed in what one might consider ‘street’ clothes but they sure don’t smell like they’ve been homeless. One man pauses reaching under the bed as the flame flickers and then continues about his work - as though the candle’s activity was somehow...important.
It is jarring, passing through things like that, despite the countless times Damian has done that. Still, there's far less recovery time now. Had he heard the voices on the other side? Maybe, but he was prepared either way. A scan of the room happens. The two men are studied, but that's all. He looks back, as if he can see Frankie, but, of course, he can't. It doesn't stop him from giving her a look. Habit, perhaps. He moves in a little to watch them, looking over the room himself as he does. Also searching for something to catch his eye, but for now, he's seemingly willing to let them search.
Frankie reaches out and kind of pats at where she thinks Damian is, fingers extended, waving her hand about gently until her fingertips brush against something solid she can't see. Presumably a Damian. She also stays still and silent to watch the men.
Assuming that the room is like a dial on a watch or clock. The door to the outside is at 6. The candle is at 3. The men are at 8 and 9. The bathroom and such are at 12. The two men seem to be determined to find whatever it is that they think is here but so far they’ve come up with nothing. Finally one of them mutters out in a hushed, semi-silent whisper. “It’s not here…” The other bites back, “Keep looking. If we go back without it it won’t be good.”
Damian can't read minds, and he sure as heck has no idea what they are looking for, it's why he lets them go, probably. One way to find out, is to let them find it, and then decide. Maybe a little longer before Damian tries another trick that occurs to him, of course, he might need Frankie's help for that. The invisible thing is tough. He can't even signal her. His eyes go to Booch's belongings that might be in the room, a suitcase, anything to give him a clue what they might be searching for.
Frankie keeps two fingertips on Damian's sleeve, just so he knows where she is. She divvies up her time watching the men and the candle. What the hell is the point of the candle? Are magic candles a thing, and has she read something about them before?
There's a suitcase on the dresser, right next to the candle on the fake skull. It's been searched already as evidenced by the pile of clothes on the floor. The two men seem focused on searching under beds, between mattresses and the like and they don't notice that the candle's flame turns copper-green. It takes them a second at least to realize this - and then it's only when one of the guys looks up and notices that the faint amber light on the wall has changed its color. "oh shit. We gotta get outta here."
The two men stop what they're doing immediately and head for the door - all but forgetting the candle and skull.
Then a disembodied voice comes. Damian's from a spot in the room, where he stands, still invisible. It's deeper than his, probably what he imagines a Raven-King God would sound like. "Have you found what I have asked for?!" It's quick thinking, or maybe not. He lets it linger in the air.
That's when a murder of crows suddenly bursts into being in the room. The air is a flurry of wings and feathrs, raucous CAWS! making one hell of a racket. The crows fly about, flapping, whipping up air currents that flap material. One crow lashes out at the candle and skull, trying to knock it over. Crows are clever little creatures. And noisy.
The two men were already on their way out when they realized that the light had changed. That's enough of a warning for them. When they heard a disembodied voice ask them a question and -then- a bunch of crows suddenly emerge into the window, they panic and try and get out of the door as fast as possible. The crows caw and scatter as birds in an enclosed space might do but -just- before the candle is knocked over you happen to see a shape against the wall.
The man have fallen over each other, trying to defend their faces and their eyes of all things from the scattering murder of birds but their high-pitched, whining screams suggest that they may not be -just- afraid of a bunch of birds...
"I asked you a question. Have you found it?!" The same disembodied voice, as they scramble against the crows. Damian doesn't miss a beat, if anything, Frankie read his mind. He knew she could do that. It wouldn't be the first time. Then nothing. Eyes go to the candle as something catches his attention. Shit. Dead silence. Damian might not know what that is, but something tickles at his mind. An assassin, and one he doesn't know enough about.
The air is churning with crow wings. They continue to cry out - the neighbours are gonna be pissed - but they start gathering together into one mass again. Inky black, and fluttering feathers.
In the inky blackness of the darkened room, the fluttering of the birds and the stiffled whimpers of the two men make it difficult to hear but one of them finally answers. "We couldn't find it...we're sorry..." It wouldn't be the Moonlite motel without someone beating on the wall to 'keep it down'. And then you hear something akin to a bed moving - like being shoved against the carpeted floor and one of the men letting out a 'there is no covering this up' scream that seems to move through the room. You can hear the sound of fingernails trying to claw at carpeting and rugs as the screams moves around the room and then thumps against one of the walls…
Let there be Light, so the Bible said. Well, this isn't that kind of salvation. In fact, it might be the opposite, he is a Reaper, after all. Of course, it's pretty hard to stay invisible when you are producing that kind of light. Light enough to light the room, to shine out through the curtains, a little blindingly, but they are shut, thankfully. It's hard to look at Damian. Like something out of a movie when an Angel comes down wrapped in light. It would be quite the trip, but it also serves the purpose of obfuscating his features to some degree. He looks around the room, eyes to where he heard the sounds of the screams and the thump against the wall.
Screams and thumping from a hotel room followed by seriously bright light that show through the curtains? Some might consider this ...odd. But around the Moonlite Motel it's just a Wednesday night. Once the room is illuminated the two Sin-Eaters can see that the bed has been moved, flipped onto its side to be more accurate. One of the two men is laying at an in human angle on top of it with his head snapped around so that he could see who's coming up behind him. The other man, still on the floor, is scrambling backwards on his hands and knees trying to get out of the way of the 'it' which seemingly now can't be seen. The room is quiet but for the one remaining man's mutterings of 'sorry' and 'gotta get out a here'.
A second or two passes and the essence of the dead man steps out of his body and looks around confusedly in the room and then back to his body and realization starts to set in.
Damian's a critical thinker, it's what he does. Like the computers he emulates, calculations within second. "The candle. Light the candle, Frankie." He knows she has a lighter on her. He's moving already. There's nothing to be done for the dead man at the moment, but the other one, maybe. He pulls him away from the wall, drags him if he must, perhaps assuming the thing can't move past the walls in the light. He knows Occult, but he's no spirit assassin expert. Hunches is all he has. Trying to keep the man near him, in the light, hopefully protecting him if he can.
That's a good idea. Probably! Frankie, now whole again, digs into the pocket of her leather jacket and pulls out a Zippo with a distinctive black crackle finish. She flicks the wheel and scrambles for the candle, reaching out to grab it so she can light it.
<OOC> Wyck says, "Manilla envelope taped to the underside of the bed frame. That's why they couldn't find it. Looks large enough to hold papers but is thick enough it could be a book...or maybe...*pinky corner of lip*...a /journal/?"
"What were you looking for?" The ruse is up, and Damian says that down at the man below him that's whimpering. He puts himself, and the light between the bathroom and others. Hunches. That's when he notices the envelope, when he turns to face the encroaching darkness. Unknowing, fi Frankie sees it, too. "Frankie?" His voice is low. He points to the envelope. Maybe suggesting he's get it, he's not moving. Him or his beacon of light. The light grows a bit, shines brighter and then some more, as if trying to beat back the darkness.
Frankie nods, moving toward the bed already. She seems to think better of her original route, however, and instead darts to the side so she has Damian between her and the bathroom when she goes after the envelope. She snatches it from the bed frame and starts to open it.
As Damian's light increases, the shadows of the bathroom area start to shrink. Something close to the sound of steam can be heard hissing out of the back room as though the light was either angering the 'something' that's back there or injuring it. The man turns once he sees that the 'it' is held back and tries to get his legs under him so that he can get to his feet. "That...," he answers quickly and tries to decide if he could somehow make it past the...'glowing man' to get to the door. Whether or not it would be easy is a different matter but he tries to make a run for it. Does Damian try and stop him and risk losing his light? Does Frankie drop her things and dive to tackle him or do the two Sin-Eaters let him go?
The 'something' hisses once more and then goes quiet - the shadows easing up in the once black corner.
Damian is a little distracted by the hissing in the bathroom and the inky darkness. He can tell it's doing something, so the light continues to grow. Outside a closed room, he'd be a beacon, even inside this one, the light spilling out is a lot. He notices the movement, and Damian is very practiced, but it looks like the man's faster than he expected. A leg sweeps out to trip him, but it misses. Damian turns towards the door, but the light never stops.
Frankie does something kind of weird; she slams her envelope-holding hand against the side of the bed frame. WHACK! That's gonna leave a bruise. Teeth gritted, she levels a scowl at the door, the hinges of which creak as she telekinetically pins it shut.
The remaining thief tries to escape the motel room but after pulling the door open by maybe two inches it is somehow slammed shut out of his hand by some unseen force. He frantically tries to try the door again but pauses when he hears the police outside announce themselves. "Oh fuck..." he exclaims in shock and backs away from the door and looks around frantically for another exit - drawing his hand up to shield his eyes from Damian's supernatural light.
Damian doesn't know what's going on. His focus is mainly on the bathroom and searching for the shadow that was here. He doubts it, highly, that it's gone. A glance goes back to the thief and the Frankie. "Trouble?" Maybe he's just reading the situation. His eyes flicker to the curtained window, but he's not going to peak out, a beacon of light that is a man might cause too much of an issue.
"Trouble," Frankie confirms, cocking her head to the side. "We should go. Same way we came in, but through the back?" Same way likely being 'invisible and intangible'.
The surviving man is freaking out and finally starts to head towards the back of the hotel room - trying to find a way out but there's no back window or anything that he might crawl through.
Damian nods, but he knows what the means. "That means losing the light and I don't think that thing is gone." A glance at the man. "Hit the lights." Because the room has natural lighting. Damian moves to turn on the lamps that he can. Then the light fizzles, assuming as much light is on as possible. If it doesn't help the man at the door, well, sometimes these things happen. One last thing, Damian moves to the dead guy and grabs something, hair, something that belongs to him. For later. Then the inky darkness that surrounds him, conceals him once more, gone. Though the wall in the back. Some Sin-Eaters don't need exits.
Frankie goes very still, wary of the shadow beast and willing her Shroud to wrap around her once more. She vanishes from sight and makes her way through the wall in the back, carrying the skull and candle and the envelope with her. "Do we need this candle?" she asks Damian over the wail of sirens and choppy bursts of megaphone-induced talk.
A few pair of uniformed officers have been positioned at either corner of the rear of the motel just in case someone -did- find a way out of one of the rooms. It should be relatively easy for the two Sin-Eaters to remain hidden until they're safely away from the trauma inside.
Damian waits until they are clear of any police, finally realizing the 'trouble' Only then does he answers her, whispering back. "Maybe. That thing hates light Frankie, I think it hurts it, but I didn't see it in mine, I did in the candles. I think it might be something more." Hunches again, but hunches can be good.