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The Neighborhood Watch

Post is up. :)

The Neighborhood Watch

Cian Cahill

Cian's eyes scanned the room as, one by one, the others recuperated. They had all been in some kind of shared stupor, Cian included, and judging by their reactions, they had all seen something just as bone-chilling as he had. The lingering static in the air felt different now, charged with a shared trauma that seemed to bind them together in ways Cian couldn't have anticipated when he'd posted those flyers.

What struck him most was how the wave of emotional turmoil had triggered precisely what Cian had been hoping to discover. Morgan, glowing with a warm, radiant light that dispelled both the cold and the evil presence; Jacob's eyes illuminated with an ethereal greenish-blue glow; Serena surrounded by a gentle halo as she cared for Jacob with healing hands. What he witnessed confirmed that his flyers had indeed attracted people like himself, those with abilities that defied conventional explanation. The notion of such powers felt so otherworldly, and yet what they had all just experienced was equally extraordinary, to say the least.

The Neighborhood Watch. Cian had chosen that name without much deeper thought, really. It had simply tumbled from his lips in a moment of defiance against whatever force had invaded their meeting. The name embodied what he felt they needed to be: people looking out for the greater good of the community. To be on the watch... but for what, exactly? Not long ago, Cian would've just thought they'd be watching for clues about Grace's, or maybe investigating their strange abilities. But now it felt like something far more sinister was at play, something that definitely needed to be watched out for. Something that had been watching them first.

Carl had jumped up when he snapped out of his trance. He had immediately grabbed his phone, appeared to send some texts, and dashed out from the study room, leaving his contact info hastily scrawled into the study table itself. It was clear to Cian that Carl wasn't running from something, but toward something else, or someone. He wondered what vision Carl had seen that could've made him leave in such a panic. What Cian had seen was utterly perturbing, absolutely, but his father was already gone. Long gone…

The memory of his father's face in the void sent a sharp pang through Cian's chest. He pushed it aside, focusing on the present situation, on the people who were still here.

Cian pulled out his phone and entered Carl's number into his contacts. He gave the others the chance to do the same before licking his thumb and rubbing the ink off from the surface of the desk's polyurethane coating. He typed a quick message to Carl with just his name: Cian Cahill. That would be enough for now.

After Cian's initial proposal to band together, the others slowly expressed their verbal or silent assent. Morgan's determined voice rang out first: "I will be your light in the dark." Serena followed with her own pledge of commitment, invoking her faith: "God guided me here for a reason. I'm with you guys through and through as I know God will always be with us. What do we need to do next?"

Unknowingly, Cian smiled softly at Serena's conviction to her faith. Originally from the Bible Belt, Cian had met many devout followers of Christianity. He, however, had been raised in an atheist household, being the child of an analytical programmer and a scientist duo. Cian wondered how what had just happened could cause a crisis of faith for her. Ironically, Cian was feeling something similar, a crisis of science, being confronted with the inexplicable.

Cian watched while the others supported one another: Morgan filling the room with light and warmth that seemed to push back against the lingering chill, Jacob stepping toward Serena supportively, and Serena returning the favor in kind with her healing abilities. With his somewhat distant, maybe even slightly chilly demeanor, Cian began to feel a little self-conscious that he couldn't be as helpful or comforting in this moment, at least not with his strange bioelectric abilities. He was more comfortable with analysis than empathy.

"Before we do anything else," Cian said, taking a deep breath to steady himself, "I think we should check on Carl. Whatever he saw—whatever we all saw—it was personal. Targeted." He glanced down at his phone, hoping for a response. "And I don't think that was random. I think something is trying to split us up before we've even started."

He looked at the whiteboard again, at the word WATCH that remained after he'd erased the rest of the message.

"Morgan, Serena, Jacob—what you all just did with your... abilities. That was incredible." His voice softened slightly, betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath his composed exterior. "I'll admit. I was little suspicious at first, but now I think what we have—it was a gift Grace gave us. Tools to fight, maybe. And even if I'm wrong, I still think we should use them. Our abilities may give us the leg up we need to figure everything out."

His phone buzzed with a notification. A text from Carl: "Out behind Graces' dumpsters. Backup?"
Cian's eyebrows shot up as he read the message. He turned the phone screen toward the others.

"Looks like we've got our first mission as the Neighborhood Watch. Who's coming with me to Grace's? Carl seems to be there already."

The electromagnetic pulse of his heart quickened as he gathered his things, ready to head out. He took a moment to pause, though. To exercise some empathy.

"If we're all okay, that is. I don't know what else could happen from here. Come with me, if you're ready."

All who were ready made their way out of study room C, Cian leading them through the library's hushed, empty interior. Cian expected as much, yet was still surprised to see that no one outside the study room seemed to have noticed anything was amiss. Ms. Winters glared at them wordlessly on their way outside.

The late afternoon sun cast long, gloomy shadows through the building's windows as they pushed through the main doors into the open air. Outside, the earlier rain had subsided to a gentle mist that clung to their skin and clothes, leaving everything with a glossy sheen under the streetlights that had begun to flicker on.

"It's getting dark. The empty storefront’s about six blocks from here, so not far." Cian oriented himself as they stepped onto the sidewalk. His senses felt heightened after their shared experience, the bioelectric fields of his companions registering more clearly than before.

They walked in relative silence, each processing what they'd seen in their visions. Occasionally, Cian would glance at his phone, checking for any additional messages from Carl. Nothing more came through.

As they approached downtown, the familiar landscape of storefronts took on an unsettling quality in the fading light. Cian felt a distinct shift in the electromagnetic field as they neared where Grace's Grotto should have been—had been. It was a subtle distortion that he had not noticed before and which made the hair on his arms stand on end.

"And here it is—… was," he said, stopping in front of what was now clearly an empty storefront. The sight of it was so wrong. Main Street was filled with thriving small businesses. This storefront looked like it belonged in a long-forgotten ghost town. Abandoned long ago.

Standing there, the contrast between his memory and reality felt jarring. In his mind, he could still picture the warm glow of the café's lights, smell the rich aroma of coffee and tea, hear the gentle music that always seemed to be playing at just the right volume.

"It’s just impossible…" he muttered, more to himself than the others. "I was here just... well, whenever it was." He pressed a hand against the glass, trying to sense anything beyond. There was a strange emptiness to the building that didn't match what an empty storefront should feel like. It was too clean, too absent of residual energy.

"Carl said he was behind the place. Let's go around back." Cian led them down the narrow alley that ran alongside the building, past overflowing recycling bins from neighboring businesses and puddles reflecting the dim light from above. The electromagnetic distortion hummed lazily as they moved toward the rear of the building, buzzing in his teeth.

The back lot was mostly shadows, illuminated only by a single security light mounted high on an adjacent building. Two large dumpsters sat against the back wall of what had been Grace's Grotto, their metal surfaces slick with moisture. The smell of wet cardboard and rotting food mingled with the petrichor from the earlier rain.

"Carl?" Cian called out, his voice echoing slightly in the enclosed space. "We got your message."

He scanned the area, senses alert for any sign of their missing companion.

"Let's spread out a bit," he suggested to the others, keeping his voice low. "But don’t split up. Stay within sight of each other. Look for physical evidence. Cups, waste… Anything, really. Proof we’re not crazy."

The Neighborhood Watch

Oof, you're right. Okay, then I'll start a draft this weekend I think. Me not being around as much is mostly due to the fact that I'm in the middle of a move, and weekends have become the time to unpack things and whatnot. But I'll try to get a response up soon, promise!

The Neighborhood Watch

All is well! I've been quietly waiting for @Elmyra to have a chance to reply before drafting one myself! I think I'll begin a draft after the weekend if we don't hear anything.

The Neighborhood Watch

Greetings from faraway lands! Just checking in to say hi and poke around.

Actually, and I am sorry to say this, but I will be leaving the rp. I tried to write a post, but I just do not have the motivation. Sorry about this, and good luck with the rp.

@Theyra

All good! Thanks for your intial interest, and I appreciate the transparency. It's always better to let us know over ghosting. I'll take over your character / handle potentially phasing him out.

Regarding what else was brought up above, I also thought playing a character into traditional religion was a creative thought for a paranormal setting and lends itself to some interesting dynamics. I'd like to state that my general expectation is that opinions, views, dialogue, and personality expressed in-character do not necessarily reflect those of the author. In other words, I'll give the benefit of the doubt in the name of creativity. Excluding content that's perceived as potentially triggering by most, [i]good[/i[ writing is not always writing that makes you feel good! Still, I'm glad @AnakisutoYT and @baraquiel sorted things out, which is always the best. :)

The Neighborhood Watch

Howdy! This is just a courtesy heads up that t's going to be a hectic next week and a half for me due to a lot of travel (crossing state lines about 9 times and hopping time zones twice!). Starting tomorrow, I'm gonna have limited ability to write/manage. I should be able to write quick check-ins and read, though. Things should be back to the status quo by around May 5th. *puts on sunglasses* Stay cool out there.

Also, @Tally Dor, not to call you out but... Weren't you supposed to use the word "pursuant" in your last post? Lmao, I kid.

The Neighborhood Watch

Beings that he's still physically in the room with everyone, would Jacob still be able to "hear" everyone, or are his abilities disabled?

@AnakisutoYT

Good question. I would say his powers were not disabled here. Rather, the situation is so strange that it could mmomtarily distract from his powers, if that makes sense. If, for example, still hearing everyone back in the room helps ground Jacob during his vision, that could be a nice bonding moment of sorts. But it's up to you how you do it!

Yo! I'm possibly interested in joining this. Do you still have availability?

@souleaterfan320

Howdy! Thanks for your interest in joining. Unfortunately, you just missed the deadline for a temporary cutoff in new characters so that we can play out the current scene as a group. If you want, I can shoot you a PM when we reach another good opportunity to join and/or if some people drop.

The Neighborhood Watch

I think that makes sense! But the trade off is posting at the end means people may not get to acknowledge Morgan's cool powers when they break from the illusion.

Happy Easter to those who celebrate! And to a potentially overlapping demographic, happy 4/20! And to everyone else, happy Sunday!

The Neighborhood Watch

Cian Cahill

The arrival of the last few members happened in quick succession, filling the small study room C almost uncomfortably. Cian hadn't quite registered their approach amidst the internal static buzzing in his head, the low-level thrum that intensified slightly with each new arrival. Six people now, not including himself. Six individuals drawn here by a simple flyer about a coffee shop that felt like it never existed to begin with. Six distinct bioelectric signatures pulsing in the confined space, interfering constructively with the hum of the library's fluorescent lights and the lingering scent of rain-soaked clothing.

He offered brief acknowledgements to the final two arrivals, a young woman with an earnest, searching energy and a broad-shouldered young man, Carl Knight, who radiated a strange mix of flustered energy and something else that Cian couldn't quite ascertain. Carl's immediate mention of weird side effects and difficulty with temperature changes resonated with Cian's own heightened senses, another data point confirming his hypothesis wasn't unfounded.

That, paired with Jacob's earlier outburst about the noise… It was exactly the kind of correlation Cian had hoped, and dreaded, to find. It wasn't much, but the evidence was there. Cian came to the shaky conclusion that these people had not just come because a beloved café had disappeared without trace. And not even just because things felt different around town. Cian was beginning to realize that these people may be showing up because they felt different, like him.

He nodded towards Carl, acknowledging his input and taking a shaky breath. “Right. Not just things feeling different around town. Side effects, like you said. We… we feel… not the same as before.” Cian tapped the marker against the whiteboard where he'd written the basic questions about the Grotto. “That's the core of it. Grace's Grotto seems to be the common denominator. I'm guessing we all went there, and now... For some of us, maybe we are different.”

Cian turned to Carl again, nodding as his suggestion.

“I agree with you. Physical evidence—cups, coffee filters—any lead would be helpful. The problem is, I don’t know if there is any physical evidence. The storefront looks like it’s been empty for years. I can’t find any receipts from the place.” Cian pulled out his phone, holding it up. “Pictures of the place are gone too. That’s what makes the disappearance so… strange.”

“Still, I’d have no problem with a, uh, coordinated dumpster dive, but my other concern is time, the other weird aspect about this.” Cian held a hand to his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “The thing is, do any of y’all even remember when the place disappeared? I mean, exactly? ‘Cause to me I want to say it was a week ago… Maybe? Or was it a month ago? My memories of the place seem so concrete, but the timeline of everything… Feels almost like a dream.”

Cian shook his head.

“But you’re right, Carl. We haven’t actually searched. That might be a good place to start.”

Cian throttled his rhetoric for a moment. He had gotten tense just talking about all of this. His chest had gone tight, and his free hand was balled into a fist. He scanned the faces around the table, and realized he still barely knew these people.

To alleviate the tension in the room, Cian took a moment to gather everyone else's names. As they spoke, Cian took mental notes, noting their demeanor and their bioelectric signatures.

Jacob: guarded, tense, with that strange reaching quality to his energy. Morgan: optimistic, maybe too optimistic, with a signature that seemed to pulse with warm light. Michael: quiet, curious, with an energy that reminded Cian of the sun on a clear day. Olive: apprehensive but bold, with vibrations that seemed to ripple outward. Serena: rooted but feeling shaken, with a signature that seemed to ebb and flow like a gentle tide. Carl: determined, confident, with a field that seemed acute and sensitive.

Their signatures were all distinct, but they also all felt different from typical people, those you'd pass on the street without another thought apart from glancing acknowledgement. Sensing them all at once was verging on overwhelming, but in a way, it was also validating.

“So, let me get this straight," Cian continued after the introductions, pacing a small circle in the limited floor space. “We all visited Grace's Grotto. We all had some kind of... unique drink there, something she seemed to know we'd want before we even ordered it. And now Grace's is gone, like it never existed. And we're all experiencing… the aforementioned ‘side effects.’”

He hesitated. Screw it, it was time to be more direct. He had a feeling these people, gathered all here, would understand him.

“Side effects, like… Well, for me, I… can feel electromagnetic fields. Electricity. And living things too, ‘cause we all have electricity inside us, in our cells and nerves. I can sense them. It started small, but it's getting stronger. And sometimes, when I get frustrated or upset..." He gestured vaguely at the fluorescent lights overhead. “Things... happen. I don’t know. Things glitch out.”

Cian looked around the room, watching for reactions. “Like I said before, I’m a scientist. I'm studying biology. I should be skeptical. But I've been writing down everything, and there's not a rational explanation I can find. So I figured, maybe I'm not the only one. And again, Grace’s seems to be the center of it all. The things is… did anyone actually get bad vibes from Grace at all? Did she really seem like a bad actor? The origin of a conspiracy? I just can’t get behind something like that, even if it feels like the only explanation.”

The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence that followed. And then, something happened that even Cian, with all his growing sensitivity, hadn't anticipated.

Cian had always been fascinated with codes and ciphers since he was little. And when the fluorescent lights began to flicker above the group, Cian understood almost immediately. It was not in the erratic pattern they sometimes did when Cian lost control. This was regular; the lights flickered in a pulsing pattern: three short, three long, three short.

S.O.S.

A chill swept through the room, raising goosebumps on Cian's arms. The temperature dropped several degrees in seconds, cold enough to see their breath fog in the air. The windows rattled in their frames, and the whiteboard marker in Cian's hand began to vibrate against his fingers.
Then, he felt it again. The presence.

Then, for a moment of complete dread, every person in the room felt as though they were alone. Alone. No longer in the library, no longer in the present. In the void, an infinite void. Only one thing permeated the nothingness: despair. Then, each of them saw something, something that rattled them to the core.

Before Jacob, fleeting images, ghostly apparitions from his past flickered into view—his family, his earlier life.

Before Morgan, an image of his father and mother appeared. His mother vanished into a puff of smoke, and a bottle of liquor appeared in his father’s hand. He slowly morphed into a jerseyed football player and charged at Morgan, sending searing pain through his spine.

A cop car appeared before Olive. She knew what she’d find inside. But the car came closer into view. She couldn’t look away, she couldn’t… Her mother stood next to her, her eyes fixed on the car. Slowly, she walked closer, slowly she saw, her eyes bulging and brimming with tears.

Michael found himself inside a car. His parents in the front seat, oblivious to their surroundings. The darkness. Except, there was something else in the darkness. A pair of headlights, coming straight for them. His parents didn’t see it.

Serena saw her father. He wasn’t looking at her. Liquor and poker chips flashes across his eyes. He disappeared in a puff of cigarette smoke, replaced by another presence, this one unseen. One thing was for certain. It was not God. It was not God. It was not God.

Carl stood in front of his father and his grandfather. They did not face him. They were not away of the shadows creeping toward them from the void, curling in tendrils around their feet and up around their bodies. They were in danger. They would be taken.

And Cian. Cian saw the white baseball cap first. Like his own, but with “Ole Miss” written across the front. A tall man stood there, looking right at Cian, his blue eyes gleaming in the blackness.

Cian stared. He could not breathe.

“Dad…?” His voice emerged as a hoarse croak.

Darkness appeared on his dad, originating on his left side. His pancreas. The darkness spread, consuming his father until there was nothing left but the void.

And then, just as suddenly, everyone was back in the study room. The lights were not flickering. The temperature was normal.

Miraculously, Cian was still standing. He did not stumble. He just stood there, frozen. His eyes drifted to the whiteboard.

NOTALONEWEAREWATCHINGNOTALONEWEAREWATCHING

His writing from before was gone, replaced by the chilling message.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry. Everything else felt normal. Not shouts from outside the door. No sirena echoing through the thin walls from outside. No other disturbanes in electric fields nearby. Nothing.

He scanned the room again. Cian didn’t need to ask. He knew they’d all felt it too. Seen something.

“No,” Cian said, his face turning resolute. “No.”

He approached the whiteboard and swiped at the cryptic message with the back his hand. He was destroyed evidence before documenting it. He didn’t care. He ran his hand from left to right, then right to left, leaving only five letters left on the board.

WATCH

“We aren’t alone,” Cian said. “That’s for goddamn sure.” He glanced back at the others. “’Cause there’s us. We got each other. And we’re watching now too.”

He uncapped the pen and wrote on the board again.

THE NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH

He returned to his seat, slumping down into it and feeling utterly exhausted.

“We’ve got to get to the bottom of this. ‘Cause now I feel like it’s personal, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna sit here be mocked. We’re the Watch. We’ll figure out what’s behind all of this, if y’all will join me.”

The Neighborhood Watch

A reply is in the works!

EDIT: Alright! Be sure to give the post a good read - I exercised a little GM power to say what happened to everyone, but feel free to give a bit more context/elaboartion in your replies.