Lexicon — Roleplayer Guild

Queezel, The G'Whiz Sweets Shop, Taletown
Mentions: @Holy Soldier

Queezel blinked once, twice, three times as Hansel turned away from him. What had he done to deserve such hostility? The elder shade was well aware of Hansel's former occupation, but such rudeness was inexcusable. Baring his glistening teeth, Queezel stood up to his full height, which was about four and a half feet, and said, "You may do as you wish, Master Hansel. I will inform my mistress of your request and your unwillingness to aid me in my search." The diminutive undead inclined his one-eared head respectfully and scuttled towards the door, though he didn't open it. Without looking back at Hansel, Queezel said, his words barely audible over the hum of the store's air-conditioner, "Terror will not be pleased." 

Ding! Ding!

Faster than Hansel could blink, the shade disappeared into the night like an errant wisp of grayish green fog. Would this brief, seemingly harmless encounter have consequences? Probably. The Boogieman was alot of things, but forgiving wasn't one of them. Terror, Boogie's Beans, Taletown
Mentions: @Drag@Utrax@Riflebird

Rebecca's pleasant grin was gone by the time Crier finished speaking. Did this fool realize that, if he continued making eye contact with her, she could potentially learn what terrified him most in this world? Could he even comprehend the nature of the entity he was talking to? This was one of the downsides of Terror's new status as a somewhat legitimate businesswoman. Some people thought they could barge into Boogie's Beans and say or do whatever they wanted. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your perspective, the Boogieman had no qualms about putting these assholes in their place. And she wasn't gentle about it. 

Adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses, the ancient Tale leaned forward in her seat and said, "Do you know why I like you, James? You are a predator. You're a hunter, just like me. I feed off the fear of others and you do the same after a fashion. The helpless fools of this town come running to you for help, and, like a wolf in sheep's clothing, you protect them until it's time for them to pay. Then you feed, glutting yourself on whatever they're willing to offer. Trust me, I understand. You need money, food, and whatnot to make a decent life for yourself. What I find so intriguing is that you seem genuinely interested in making Taletown a better place. You aren't like that glorified pastry and his Breadwinners or the members of our esteemed Council, who spend more time whining and bickering than anything else. You actually want to ensure the New World is everything this community needs it to be. A place where everyone, no matter who they are or what they've done, can start over. I respect that. I even admire it." 

Standing up and slowly walking forward until she was right in front of Crier, Becca's face settled into a mask of disdain and irritation as she said, "That respect and admiration is the only thing keeping me from having eleven angry shades drag you out of my place of business. How dare you come in here and try to strong-arm me, boy. I've spent the last twenty years recreating myself from the ground up into someone the people of Taletown can trust without reservation." She paused for a moment and glanced away before returning her attention to Crier's face. "Alright, someone the people of Taletown can trust with a few reservations. You and I both know the Council barely thinks about me anymore. I pay my dues and keep my head down. They have no reason to send you after me. There's only one Tale in that gaggle of jackasses that doesn't trust me." 

Poking Crier in the chest with one finger, Boogie said, "What I can't understand is why you, the great detective, don't see that Merlin is using you to get to me. That old bastard put the Ward of Fear on my back, but he still thinks I'm some kind of evil beast scrabbling at the bars of my cage. Well, fuck him and fuck you. I would think you of all people would understand what it means to struggle day in and day out to overcome the sins of your past. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe we aren't alike at all."

A bit dramatic, Terror thought to herself as she moved away from the detective and looked out over the vast, empty dining area of Boogie's Beans, but I am disappointed in Crier. Perhaps I expected too much from him? We shall see. This place, this ridiculous, marvelous jazz cafe' and coffee shop, is my stronghold, my base of operations. As much as I enjoy James' company, I cannot allow him to speak to me this way here. Or anywhere, really. Not if I want to lead Taletown into the golden age it so rightfully deserves. Still, waste not want not. Let's see if the boy is truly nothing more than Merlin's dupe.

Clasping her hands behind the small of her back and glancing over her shoulder at Crier, the Boogieman said, "Isn't it interesting, James? Merlin is a powerful mage, but he was nothing more than a respected advisor back in the Homelands. An advisor, not a leader. And yet, he currently enjoys all the benefits of leadership without putting himself in a vulnerable position. That's not what Taletown needs right now. Taletown needs someone that isn't afraid to step forward and do what needs to be done. Taletown needs people like you and me, people that have endured hardships and setbacks beyond counting. With a person like that at the helm, and the Council serving in an advisory capacity, things can and will change for the better. Can you even imagine what that would be like?" 

Rebecca turned around and a small, dangerous little smile slithered across her heart-shaped face as she locked eyes with Crier again. "How many people do you think have tampered with your crime scene since you left the Hundred Acres, hm? I'm guessing, between all the informants, thugs, nosy neighbors, and self-proclaimed sheriffs, at least fifteen. That's unacceptable. You, and you alone, should be given free rein to do whatever it takes to bring the bastards responsible for this murder to justice. But instead you're content to run around on the Council's leash and bark at Tales like me that want nothing more than to make a living."

We'll see if those seeds bear fruit, Boogie thought to herself as she returned to her seat and smoothed down the front of her dress shirt. I've said my piece, but I might as well tell him what I know about the Hundred Acres. Let it never be said that Terror refuses to help the law. Besides, Crier looks like he could use a lead or two.

Terror's expression softened a little and she said, "But that's a discussion for another time. As far as your request for information goes, I have a few tidbits for you to consider. First, I will admit that I don't have many eyes and ears around the Hundred Acres apartments. So much criminal activity goes on in that place it's difficult to figure out what's worth paying attention to and what isn't. Another consequence of the Council's inability to keep this borough from imploding. At any rate, if what my contact told me was correct, you're looking for a Tale with incredible physical strength and claws. And a god complex, apparently. Of course, it's also possible that an artifact from the Homelands caused all this. I know Merlin likes to think that, as the unofficial leader of Taletown's spellcasters, he knows about every mystical objects in town, but I have my doubts. Nobody is that knowledgeable." 

Tapping one slender finger against her lower lip, Boogie thought for a moment and said, "The first Tale that springs to mind is B.B. Wolf, but you and I both know she's a coward. On the other hand, a coward backed into a corner is capable of anything. I would suggest taking a look at Br'er Rabbit as well..." The blonde-haired Tale trailed off for a moment as if she was seriously contemplating this particular Tale, but it was a ruse. A beautifully executed ruse, but a ruse nonetheless. The last thing Boogie wanted was for one of her most well-paid and useful informants to be caught up in a murder investigation. "But he's an idiot, a simpleton that wouldn't know how to use a magical item if it fell into his lap with an instruction manual attached. He's also not strong enough to inflict the kind of wounds you saw on the victim. However, I believe his old rival, Br'er Bear, recently found a job and is now renting a room in the Hundred Acres. He's also a raging alcoholic and has a nasty temper to boot. Definitely worth talking to, I think." 

Frowning and crossing her arms across her chest, the Boogieman said, "The only other people I can think of are the Rumpadump and Stool families. Two Munchkin families from the world of Oz that helped each other during the Great Exodus. In fact, I heard a rumor that Jamjar Rumpadump married Latinka Stool a few weeks back. Adorable, isn't it? Perhaps one or both of the families got their hands on something they shouldn't have back on their homeworld? Oz has more witches and warlocks than any other world in the Homelands. Oh and you'll probably want to talk to Chupa as well. I know people say she's as innocent as the day is long, but who knows if she's telling the truth about that little barroom brawl she was involved in. And I'm sure you'll wind up talking to some of the Breadwinners, though this doesn't seem like the work of our doughy friend or his goons."

As Rebecca finished talking, she started to reach for the business card Crier had left on the table and--

Flash.

Terror was reaching for Dread, the Umbral Blade and the Shadow-That-Cuts, but her clawed hand was still a good foot away from the ivory table it rested on. Bruises and countless gashes that oozed thick black blood were scattered across her hulking form. Snarling in agony, she started to rise from her basalt throne but immediately fell back when she realized her legs couldn't support her weight. Wiping tar-like blood from a gash above her left eye, the Tale opened her mouth to call for one of her shades. Queezel and Baelor should be somewhere nearby. They always were.

"Come out, sister," a voice burbled from somewhere nearby. It sounded like the words were being spoken by a dying woman with a mouthful of mud. "Come out and face me. Mother told me what happened and she is most displeased. She actually wanted to come down from Mount Azgalor to finish you herself, but I told her not to worry. I'd be happy to do the honors."

Terror, her body battered and mangled almost beyond recognition, froze at the sound of her eldest sister's voice. A few breathless moments passed. Then a faint, barely perceptible tapping sound echoed throughout the massive chamber. How close was she? How close was Mystery? Was that the Question, Mystery's ivory staff, trying to find an entrance into this part of the Nighthold? Shuddering at the thought, the injured Tale once again reached for the Umbral Blade but stopped as a violent coughing fit took hold of her. Black blood spattered the flagstones of Terror's throne room. Settling back into her seat and moaning quietly, the Tale realized she wasn't strong enough. She wasn't strong enough to reach her goddamn weapon. If Mystery found a way into the throne room now it was over. She would die.

Flash.

Rebecca Sinclair froze. If Crier looked at her in this moment it would become very apparent that the creature sitting before him wasn't human in any way, shape or form. She wasn't breathing, and her eyes looked strangely glassy. Like doll eyes staring out of a face made of lifeless, plastic flesh. The vision had felt so real. So intense. And it wasn't the first time something like this had happened to her. Clearing her throat and forcing a smile onto her face, Boogie grabbed the business card and sat back up in her chair. She reminded herself to breathe, to look as human as possible, just like she did every single day. All that mattered was getting through the rest of her business for the evening. Then she could go down to the basement and relax in whatever way she saw fit.

Terror tucked the business card into her pants' pocket and said, "What else? Oh yes, about calling you whenever I get new information, I have a better idea. First, you will pay me for the...what was it? Two minutes of information I just gave you. The usual price, fifty dollars a minute. However, I'd be willing to accept half payment if you do two favors for me. Simple ones, I promise." Standing up and walking over to stand in front of the detective again, she said, "First, I want you to think, really think, about how much more effective you'd be if you had a prominent authority figure openly supporting you. You'd have total control over crime scenes and dealing with situations that threaten the security of Taletown. No more running in circles, no more inane restrictions. You would be a beacon of hope, of justice in this community. Because there is no justice in Taletown right now. Not really. The Council, the Gingerbread Man, they're all the same. They only care about themselves, but not you and not me. I've led armies into battle for thousands of years, and that's precisely what this is. A battle to determine the future of all the Tales that left their homeworlds in hopes of finding something better."

Stepping a little closer to James, Becca said, "Also, I want you to think about letting me join you on some of your investigations. As your partner, not your informant." Holding up her hands to forestall any response, she said, "I wouldn't be able to help you every night of the week, obviously. I have a business to run. But I'm a fairly well-respected member of the community, right? And you, well, some people still spit at you when you pass them on the street. If word got out that Boogie and Crier were working together to bring this killer to justice while the Council flails around it would do wonders for your reputation. Just give it some thought before making up your mind."

Grinning, Terror crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Now, unless there's anything else you'd like to discuss, I believe you can see yourself out." While she waited to hear what Crier had to say, she focused for a moment and reached out with her mind. <Baelor, Grim, and Swift. Answer me.>

Three voices quietly murmured in the back of her head, <Yes, mistress.>

<As soon as James leaves, I want one of you, I don't care which one, to follow him. We never lose sight of him again, understood? The rest of you will go to the filing cabinet closest to my desk and open the bottom drawer. You'll see a stack of posters inside with the phrase 'Where is the Justice in Taletown?' printed on them. I want you to cover this borough in as many posters as possible before sunrise. I want to see how people react. Once I get some kind of response, I'll be able to move forward. It's time we took a little initiative in this war of conquest.>

<Your will be done, mistress> the shades replied and Becca's smile widened ever so slightly. Once Crier left, she'd call Queezel back from his unnecessary errand and move on to her final task of the night. Telling the Nunez brothers the timetable was changing. If James wasn't going to be paying her for information anymore then she needed a new source of revenue as soon as possible. The money brought in by Nunez's Nasty would solve that problem and then some. True, getting the necessary equipment and chemicals to Boogie's Beans would be challenging but it wasn't impossible. Tonight, nothing felt impossible.

At that moment, one of her other shades whispered into Terror's mind, saying, <Mothman is coming towards the cafe', mistress. I believe he's on his nightly jog. Should we do something?>

The Boogieman's face didn't so much as twitch as she responded. <Just make sure that stupid fucker doesn't do anything besides look. The moment he touches something, I want any shades that aren't otherwise occupied to keep him busy until I can deal with him. I have no time for insects right now.>
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