Re: Nox Eterna

[Vincent Faustino]

"Heh, we'll see how far that gets us, I guess. We should try to figure out who Hanson is though, if Hanson is even a real person. Cassy said she saw the name etched in brass, so I think we'll be looking for a sign or a plaque somewhere."

[Crewer]

"Sounds like you brought all the optimism we'll need."

[Vincent Faustino]

"I was given the same speech, alright? And I think it's gonna happen whether we're here or not, and things will probably go better if we can start trying to stop it sooner."

[Crewer]

"Hopefully?" Huico's hands stop moving and he looks Vincent in the eyes, giving him a glare.

"I don't know what bucket of rainbows and sunshine the senorita fed you, Boy Scout, but the vision that brought me to New York was one of death and destruction. A burning city. And we're all supposed to be here for the grand event." Huico is now visibly angry and his voice rises. "If it weren't for the chica's steadfast conviction that we can stop Hanson I would have taken myself back to Rio rather than accept her plea for help."

Huico then blinks and sits back. He seems to breathe easier now. Crap, man. He's just being nice and I went ballistic.

"Sorry. Yeah, the others. We'll see."

[Vincent Faustino]

"Ah, so we're the first to arrive. Hopefully the others show up soon so we can get things started."

[Crewer]

Huico looks at you with a quizzical look. "It's a big city and a busy week, amigo. I've seen a lot of people, including the asshole at the desk," motioning to Fechin with his knife. Most of them smelled like scared rats, too. "You're the only one who's seemed like a man with a mission, though."

[Vincent Faustino]

"Well, our acquaintance mentioned some others. You seen anyone else so far?"

[Crewer]

"Maybe."

With that, Huico returns to his woodcut.

[Vincent Faustino]

"Can't say I do. Sounds like we're looking for the same guy though, and that maybe we have a common acquaintance."

[Crewer]

I sit in the unoccupied chair and open the book to the page I left off on at the airport.

Huico looks over at the kid, inspecting him for any identifying marks. Seeing nothing too odd, he makes his move.

"Hey, kid, you know a Hanson?"

[Vincent Faustino]

I enter the room and set my bags down in a corner, then retrieve my book from the sling and walk back out to the lobby with it. I sit in the unoccupied chair and open the book to the page I left off on at the airport.

[Storyteller]

The man grumbles to himself for a second, and tries to rise from his chair. Failing that, he swivels the chair in the general direction of the front countertop. He rummages underneath the counter for a moment, then pulls out a small keychain. On the keychain is a worn key and a small plastic clover with the number 2 stamped into it. The white paint that covered the number portion of the clover has long worn away, but flecks of it still belie its former state. The man tosses the keychain on the countertop, then points to his left down the hallway. As he raises his arm, you can see a brief glimpse of his nametag in the folds of his clothes; it reads "Fechin".

[Vincent Faustino]

"I'm here for a reservation under the name Cassy. Hope it's not too much trouble."

[Storyteller]

The man glances up at you from his tv. He gruffly spits out "Yeah?" before returning to his regularly scheduled programming.

[Vincent Faustino]

I approach the man at the counter. Noticing the broken bell, I knock twice on the counter to get his attention.

[Crewer]

Huico looks up from his work as the door creaks open and the kid walks in.

Jogging clothes. No visible weapons. Sunglasses. Calm demeanor. Messenger bag and suitcase, possibly extended stay. Not from here, too tan. Long flight, messy hair.

Huico then returns to his woodcut, filing away at the hair and face, listening intently to whatever conversation the man has with the cabrón at the desk.

[Storyteller]

Vincent:

The front door silently slides open with a bit of resistance. You find yourself in the cramped entryway of a small hotel. There is a slightly run down front desk, where a fairly large red haired man sits behind the counter. His hair is short cropped and curly, and he seems to be fairly preoccupied with the small color tv sitting underneath the lip of the counter. Short hallways with 3 and 4 rooms each lead off to your right and left, and conclude with stairs leading up in similar directions. There is a small couch and chair near the entryway, place long with respect to the door so that they can fit. The combination of eclectic furniture and the desk leave little room for navigation, but it is manageable. The man does not appear to have noticed you walk in.

The tv appears to be playing reruns of Orange County Choppers as you walk in the door. In addition to the previous items in the room, there is a burly central american man in worn military fatigues sitting in the chair to the left of the entrance, idly chipping away at a small block of wood with a vicious looking knife. The folds of his red bandana cover his eyes from sight.

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Huico:

After sitting in your chair playing with your wood block for approximately five minutes, the hotel's front door opens. In walks a lithe young man, roughly of college age who seems to be of Mediterranean descent. He is dressed in comfortable, but loose athletic clothing, matching the demeanor of his flyaway black hair.

[[Both of you, what do you do?]]

[Vincent Faustino]

I thank the cabby and pay the fare before retrieving my luggage and entering the hotel, wondering if I'm the first to arrive.

[Storyteller]

You pull off into the busy early morning traffic that surrounds the airport. After a long, but uneventful trip the cabby pulls up beside the hotel.

The "Kennedy's" portion of the sign is in a dull aluminum with blue neon, but the "O'" portion looks as though it was tacked on to the front as an afterthought, considering it's hanging off the main sign and made of green plexiglass. On your end of the street are four apartment buildings, and a few small shops selling knick knacks and chinese food line the street down to the hotel.

It is not approximately 9 in the morning.

[[What do you do?]]

[Vincent Faustino]

"O'Kennedy Hotel. Corner of 57th and 56th."

[Storyteller]

The cabby pulls up and asks where you're heading.

[Vincent Faustino]

I check my bags to make sure everything I brought is present and accounted for, then leave the airport and call a cab.

[Storyteller]

You see an old woman who appears to be trying to pickpocket the man helping to carry her luggage for her as she walks past, but nothing of immediate danger to you appears to be present in the bustling baggage claim area of the airport.

[[What do you do?]]

[Storyteller]

The member 'Storyteller' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D10' : 1, 1, 9, 10, 9

[Storyteller]

[[....rolling for you then. In the future just select the dice roller right below the send button.]]

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