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    1. Haydrian Cindel 7 yrs ago

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Ferd Smith

Ferd raised an eyebrow as the two newcomers nearly spoke over eachother. The large man, who Ferd could now see was balding, had answered first, but he had only barely finished when the other one spoke up. Ferd did a slight double take when he noticed the second mans appearance. If the term "gumshoe" could have taken on a life of it's own, then it would have looked like this man. He stifled back a laugh. True the man might not be a private eye, but it'd sure be a shame if he wasn't.
Ferd addressed both men, "No paint on the outside huh?" He tapped his foot for a moment, walking all the way out of the living room and leaning against the doorframe. "That sure is strange." He bit his lower lip, about to slip away into deep thought, when he remembered the newcomers had asked him some other questions, and that the detective looking one was still approaching the front door.
Ferd felt a sudden chill. He suddenly felt very aware of the crumbling house around him, remembering that the symbol in the window had to have been put there by someone, probably the same people who had somehow caused the inside of the house to undergo nearly a century of rot within a matter of days. His eye's darted back and forth between the two strange men standing outside the home. He realized he'd been assuming that they had been called here by Harry as well, and he'd nearly welcomed them in without a second thought. But what did he know about them? They could easily be responsible for whatever was going on here. They could be hostile. He felt a shiver go up his spine as without warning his mind began to imagine what men with the power to age a house by a hundred years could do to a human body.
He straitened up, putting his hands in his pockets. This was no time to be sloppy, sloppy men were dead men and he didn't plan on dying just yet. He called over his shoulder to Val, "Hey Val, come on down." Looking back at the strange men, he said louder, "We've got a situation." It crossed his mind that he wasn't really sure he could trust Val, but he figured that if Val was his enemy it would be better not to let the man know that Ferd was suspicious of him. Keep your friends close and enemies closer as the saying went.
Alright. He took a long shallow breath. Show time. With that he dropped into survival mode, his face and body losing all forms of expression, becoming blank slates for him to write on. What did he need right now? Should he appear naïve? No that left to many variables. Should he be forward and tell everyone his suspicions? No that could provoke a head on attack if they were hostile. No the best thing right now was to obtain as much control of the situation as he could.
His eyes became steely, his posture commanding, and his voice took on a tone of authority.
"I don't know who you two are, but you'd better not come any closer just now." If Val could be trusted, then Ferd knew if it came to a fight he could really use whatever firepower the man had with him. Hoping Val was on the stairs and was watching him by now he spread his hand wide behind his back and waved ever so slightly. He then used it to pat at his coat pocket, pretending he was looking for something. He hoped Val got the message. The last thing he wanted was for the man to come out guns blazing, so hopefully he understood that Ferd wanted him to have whatever gun he had at the ready. Just in case.
Turning his attention back to the strangers, Ferd used the hand he'd used to signal Val and jerked a thumb behind him, gesturing towards the stairs he hoped Val was descending. "My partner and I have a developing situation on our hands." Folding his arms he glared down at the both of them, "I'm sorry to say it but right now we are going to have to ask anyone we find nearby this house to produce some proof of identity, and a damn good reason for being here. " He paused for dramatic effect and raised an eyebrow, "We don't have enough information on this case to put anyone above suspicion."
Dirk Garther


The man with the cigar was starting to get nervous. He didn't like how many people were showing up to Old Jeremy Tarfelt's place. It was still a crime scene for crying out loud. Dirk Garther's teeth clenched tighter on the cigar in his mouth. The frustration that had been building up ever since he'd moved to Arkham was starting to reach it's climax. A week ago he would have called it irritation, and chalked it up to acclimatizing to a new police department, no different from the way most people felt when they started new jobs. That was before he and his partner had seen the red light on the corner of 5th and Dawn, and had called in to the precinct from a telephone booth to see if their assistance was needed. It had been.
They were told to head to 1111 S Curlew Dr. to help with a missing persons case. Dirk scoffed, it hadn't been much of a missing persons case. He shook his head. To be a missing person cases someone actually had to be missing. But there was no question where Harry Everfield was.
He'd yelled at his superiors when they decided to close the case a day later. He'd insisted he be given the case, determined to do justice to the crime that he was sure had taken place in that house. The house where five strangers were now milling about.
He noticed one was keeping his distance. It was hard to make him out since he was farther off than the others, but Dirk could still make him out. He could be trouble. Then again that loud fella that had drove by could be up to no good too. The others hadn't done anything to strange, though Dirk had nearly arrested them both on the spot when they'd walked inside the house.
Dirks ears perked up at the mention of the paint on the window. Interesting. They acknowledged it's existance. When he had pointed that out to other cops most of them had pretended not to notice or care. Still that didn't prove they weren't suspects, or that they didn't know anything about Harry. He needed to wait a little longer, needed to see what else he could find out about them. The first two claimed to be there about Harry's letters that'd he'd sent out. Normally Dirk would have been inclined to believe that. But with the strange things he'd seen the last few days... Dirk cracked his knuckles idly. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.
Hope my opening was reasonable, having noticed all of you and that nosey guy across the street?


Yep, that's fine! I should have my response post up tonight or tomorrow sometime.
@ONL Beautiful! Looks like you'll fit right in here! I'll get you connected to the group PM's, and then I'll PM you to solidify some details of your connection to Jeremy. Feel free to get a first post up otherwise :)
So I'm playing this video game called path of exile and I've thought for a while now that it was fairly eldritch. Then I found out it has a character called the brine king. Guys they have a lore passage that is literally them trying to include "That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even death may die" and other chthulhu quotes in his character XD
@Haydrian Cindel is that sign the offset 5 point star with the branch in the middle?


Ah sorry, meant to update the Jeremy house post with that info, gimme a little, but no it's not I have something far more... interesting... in mind. Well in my opinion anyway XD
Ferd had nearly bitten through the but of the cigarette in his mouth. His eye brows were knit together in consternation. What was this? He'd never seen anything quite like it. He recognized the symbol, in fact it hadn't even been hard to find. Rather than being hidden in the debris as he'd suspected, it was painted in red paint on the kitchen window. Ferd was certain there had been no paint visible from the outside though. More confusing was the symbol itself. Well Symbols he supposed. It seemed that someone had taken a single commonly used symbol from two different cults and thrown them together, forming a single one. But why? Feed hadn't a clue what the significance of combining the two could be.
Suddenly a voice came ringing from upstairs, nearly causing Feed to jump out of his skin. Ah, right, Val was still hear. He didn't seem to put off by Ferd's words. That was good, though he hadn't run into the real test yet. Regardless having someone outside was perfect.
Rushing to the doorway Ferd poked his head out and flagged the giant of a man down. "Hello there!" He said waving a hand, "Do you see any paint on the window to my left?"
@ONL Absolutely! Work up a CS based off of one of the ones we've got here and the guidelines mentioned in the intro and we'll get ya set up!
Ferd was looking out into the grey clouds when Val opened up the home and walked inside, allowing him to only observe this from the corner of his eye. Well. Crap. So much for not upsetting the cops. Oh well. Ferd took another drag from his smoke and let out a large cloud of grey that was quickly swallowed up by the fog around him. He turned to join his new found friend who's name he had yet to discover only to stop dead in his tracks.

"Shit. Damn. No. No, not already. Shit, it's only been a week." He pushed past his nameless companion into the front room of what was supposed to be Jeremy's home. No, no, no, no! He'd stood in this very room before! How!? How was he already to late? Ferd stood silently in the middle of the once vibrant living room, rigid, gasping for air, and his cigarette hanging from his slightly parted lips. He stood for what felt like a long time, eyes wild, his heart racing and despair creeping around the corners of his mind.

Slowly the adrenaline subsided, his heart slowed and Ferd's body relaxed. In a mere moment he was back to himself. Sad eyes, bad posture, and the smallest hint of a whimsical smile tugging at just the corners of his mouth. He turned his torso to look at the man still standing in the doorway.

"I meant to warn you. This case, or caper? Well you were right when you said it felt like it was right out of a novel." Turning back into the room Ferd crouched down where he stood in the middle of the room and began rummaging through the debris, looking for clues. "If you stick around you'll see some strange things, like this." Ferd gestured at the spread of the living room with his left hand, not turning from his search. "Things that wont make any sense, until you finally figure out an explanation." Ferd paused. turning his head he made eye contact with the man. Ferd's face looked as though his spirit was too old for the body it inhabited. Tired was putting it lightly. Ferd looked like a man who knew he would never win, but who was to strong and stubborn to give up. With this face devoid of mirth, and deadly serious he said, "These explanations wont make any sense, not at first at least. They'll be the sort of thing most people would right off as crazy." Unblinking, he lowered his voice slightly and finished, "They'll be the sort of thing you can't deny that you believe, because you've seen it with your own eyes. It'll be then that you ask yourself, 'Am I insane for seeing these things, or would the true insanity be to try and deny and suppress any memory of them?'"

With that Ferd turned, stood, and placing his hands in his pockets walked towards what he thought he remembered being the kitchen, smoke trailing behind him.

"Oh I almost forgot," He said. His back was to the man at this point, and without turning he waved over his shoulder at him. "The names Ferd. Ferd Smith. Good to meet you." With that he turned the corner into the kitchen. He shook his head. More of the same. Still. He knew the signs would be there. He just had to look. He stood motionless for a time, looking for scraps of wood shaped in odd ways, or setting in what might be strange patterns. They would be there, or else something else would. They always were.
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