Open RP Cracked Foundations

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Time: 4:55PM.
Location: Memento Mori - Mori’s Speakeasy (Under-construction).

It was a cold day - something Mori noted as she walked down the street to the property they had bought upon arrival. It wasn’t a… Spontaneous purchase, no. It was rare the Witch did important things such as property management without thinking it through. No; they had to buy this basement based on its history.

What history, some may ask.

They had heard rumours that the basement they had bought was a bad omen - that accidents happened whenever someone tried to work on it, so each time the basement was passed person to person; cheaper than the last. It was about this time usually… A week into construction the accidents would start. And as they walked down the street towards the property, their phone rung - and they answered with a simple;

“I know. I’m on my way.”

As they turned the corner, they would see an ambulance sitting outside of their basement; slowly, they watched as the paramedics went down the stairs to retrieve the injured construction worker. As they did, it started to rain - light drips falling down into the street.


As the man was brought up, it was clear what had happened to him - a piece of rebar was slammed through his shoulder. They didn’t even need to hear that he was still standing when it went through him.

Something in the basement chucked this at him. With enough strength to pierce his shoulder.

As the rain fell more and more, Mori would grab their umbrella as the flashing lights of the ambulance lit the street. They would turn and step to look at the rest of the workers - and just gently took off their leather gloves.

“Go home for the day. Tell your bosses I will pay you and the company for a day's work. Come back tomorrow - there will be no accidents after today.”

They stepped down the stairs - before looking back at the foreman, stepping back up and passing a card to him.

“If I do not call you in an hour, please contact the authorities. And please tell them to send an ambulance as well.”

They would nod, before stepping down the stairs - as the flashing lights of the ambulance filled the street. They pulled out a pocket watch, looking up at the sky - cloudy weather. They waited for the weather to clear, standing by the entrance of the soon-to-be Speakeasy - a cigarette being lit as they waited.

What a pain. Hopefully, they distrupted no ones day with such a dramatic scene...​

The sky is overcast, and the cold cuts through her in a way it hasn’t in years. Adelyn pulls her parka closer around her, squinting her eyes as the wind pulls the hood off of her head. Old instinct has her tugging it up again, glancing around the street.

Then she remembers. Or, rather, she stops pretending. The hair that tangles in her sunglasses is black, and she no longer has to worry about concealing her ears. They take care of that all on their own, now. She lets the hood drop. The wind will just catch it again.

There’s an ambulance across the street. She had heard it passing by her grandparents’ house, and followed it to its source. Where the ambulances are, there are bound to be people who are hurting. People who she can help.

She watches a figure approach the scene, speaking quietly with a man in a hard hat and reflective vest. She can’t quite catch what’s being said, only snippets filtering through the wind and rain. And, just like that, with the ambulance loaded up and the doors slammed shut, the people milling about start to trickle away. Adelyn can feel her shoulders relax a little as the small crowd departs, and she waits for the ambulance to speed off before picking her way across the street.

If she can help, she has to. Determined, she approaches the lone remaining person. Her boots are slimmer now, but still loud against the steps as she scurries up and under the awning.

“Hello. How can I help?”


As the crowds slipped away from the construction, Mori stood and watched each one walk away as they slowly slipped their other hand into their pocket. Rooting around, looking - where was it again?

It reminded them that they needed to be prepared for what was in there. Magical talent didn't mean they had the upper hand, no - confidence is a slow insidious killer. One slip up, could get them injured. Worst, killed. That man who was loaded into the ambulance was not the target, they were.

The creature inside would know killing them would probably leave their home alone for a while. So they had to be-


A person.

Mori would look at them for a moment, realizing something quickly - they weren't like the other paranoid folk around. Every common citizen, who walked off as soon as their fifteen minutes of excitement ended and they had to continue with their mundane lives. This person? She came up after. To offer her help.

Mori stood their for a moment, contemplating. Spending the time to think, before finding what they were looking for - a vial of blood, stowed away in a glass brittle case. Easily broken, crushed if Mori wanted to do it.

"Help? You see a man injured, and carted away and you offer me help?" Mori didn't sound... Upset, despite their words. Actually, they sounded rather impressed. "...You know something is in here, that shouldn't belong. Good. I have theories on what it can be, but based on how brutal the 'accident' was... I am thinking it may be a Banshee, of some sort. It dies - or is forced to leave the building when the sun decides to show, accidents stop. Then the workers can finish construction on my bar."

Mori sounded so sure of themselves. Despite them coming out with what otherwise would be lunacy, they were of sound mind. Each word and statement followed by a small nod as they smoked their cigarette. And carefully held the vial of blood, to stop it breaking.

"Mórrígan. A pleasure."

“Adelyn.” She doesn’t offer her hand to shake, as the little glass jar the person is holding seems fragile. She does wrinkle her nose a little as the cigarette smoke drifts towards her, waving it away from her face with a gloved hand. It doesn’t smell at all like woodsmoke, which is the only pro she can find.

“I’m not a healer, and I don’t know much about medicine. I couldn’t help the injured man, but you looked like you could use some help. The people who stay after the disaster are the people who are there to help clean up, usually.” Adelyn smiles, genuine and not at all thrown by the strange terms Mórrigan uses. There are a lot of words she doesn’t know, and more she doesn’t know about the world. It’s best to learn it from the people who do.

“Have you fought Banshees before? Are they hard to kill?” As she queries, Adelyn peers into one of the darkened windows of the house. She isn’t sensing any ill intent from Mórrigan, so she’s all for helping them, but she still wants to know what she’s getting into.


"Have you fought Banshees before? Are they hard to kill?"

A simple question with somewhat of a complex answer. Mori would think for a moment, before reaching into their side purse and pulling out a flashlight. They would lean on the door, wiping the glass pane. A brand new door... At least their property wasn't damaged in whatever the Banshees little outrage was today.

"No. And yes. You land a good centre of mass hit on them, they'll crumble."

Mori admitted this, but like all good things - Adelyn could tell there was a but coming in that sentence. And there was, as they dotted their cig out on the brick wall.

"You just have to hit it. It'll try and stay out of sight, and hurl objects at you from blindspots. And - don't let it grab you. If it screams directly at you, you'll freeze solid."

Mori would nod, before looking side to the side on the door - before looking back at Adelyn and nodding.

"You still want to come?"