(1942-05-03) Call for Help
Call For Help
Summary: Following the strangeness from the night prior, Lillie knows precisely who to seek out. Poor guy.
Date: 1942-05-03
Related: The day after Rotten.
Players:
frank..lucietta..

Clinton and Main, Higsi
Wed May 03, 1942


After crossing an old concrete bridge over Cobb's Creek, Main Street comes to an end just past an old, run down church and a fishing and hiking supply shop. The concrete road abruptly becomes gravel for a hundred feet before transitioning to a dirt road. Once it's dirt, it makes a sharp turn to the left, becoming the easter end of Clinton Trail and beginning to make its way up the side of Iron Mountain.

Cobb's Creek is deep and slow as it passes beneath Main Street, making this a popular fishing spot for local kids. During the day, there's nearly always a young one sitting with their legs dangling over the edge of the bridge holding a fishing pole and watching the water for a bite.

Weather:
It is spring. The weather is warm and raining.


<FS3> Lillie rolls Empath: Good Success.

Truth: Lillie is thinking of becoming a hermit. She'll live off the land, she'll learn how to curb stomp raccoons ON HER OWN /and/ skin them and eat them. Apparently she gets big fuckin' raccoons on her land and one should last her a week if—-

Yeah, that's just how she's felt since last night. The Empath went headlong from a bit of emotional drama into a brief reprieve at Josie's, and 'lo and behold… some crazy stuff in town. Thank goodness for Virginia, who helped to keep her from boiling over when the vile aura of the… /whatever/ the hell that 'man' was.. threatened to keep her in a state all night. The emotional countenance of that was /vile/; the Empath felt violated and sleep hadn't found her. Fast forward through the next day, and /another/ check-in to make sure Josie was alright… the rest is a blur. But one thing Lillie knows: she /needs/ to find Frank. It is toward the Gallows that the poor girl ambles this early evening, holding a paper bag to her chest.. she may be rattled but she's dutiful. She sees fit to feed the old fellow before she has to hit him with news of this baddie.

Old indeed. He's looking cantankerous today, beard bristled and frown on his face. Some people have bad knees when the weather turns, Frank gets a… feeling when things are gonna go bad. So now he's just waiting as he cleans his old worn out bar. Waiting for that bad news.

Well ol' pal, here comes your bad news. She's just a little over five feet in height, petite, doe-eyed and she looks like she's had a bad /bad/ sleep the night prior. The door to the tired bar opens, and in strides Lillie with a gust of cool air and a few flecks of rainfall. There is a ladies' longcoat hugging her frame, cinched smartly at the waist; her hair is piled back rather hastily with a few ailing bobby pins keeping pieces out of her face. Lillie looks… /harried/.

"Hallo Frank," She says in a tight voice, trying to be pleasant. Her color is high and her eyes are overbright, perhaps a bit haunted. Yup, this looks good. "Have some supper for you… but d'you have a moment?" She's so so sorry…

Frank looks up, ah…there it is. He's seen enough ladies with that look to know. He grunts, waving her over, "Will the bar due, or we need to go into the back room?" There's only a few patrons in at this time, and one of them is asleep with his head on a table.

Hmn… Lillie considers this, giving the room a sweep with her eyes. "I think we'll be alright here." She says gently, pulling herself up to seat herself upon a stool. She slides the still-warm paper bag in the older man's direction.. it came from the diner, for certain. To look inside is to find a hefty corned beef sandwich and thick-cut salted french fries. Definitely the special of the day, Lillie hopes it will do. She describes what it is, folds the bag back over, and smiles kindly up at Frank's face. It really, really sucks to have to do this.. he looks tired and uncomfortable.

"Something happened last night, in town." The Empath says under her breath, accent heavy in her urgency. She has the barest smudges of dark circles beneath her eyes.

Even before she starts, he's pouring her a whiskey. She looks like she needs it. and then after a pause, he pours himself one too. Sounds like he's going to need it when she's done. He nods to what the food is, it sounds good and he's not picky. He glances to make sure he's aware of where everyone is, "What happened?" A big bite of corn beef is taken.

Her sense has been a bit… erratic, is the best term. As per usual, it extends it's feelers into the room, alighting upon the very few who are in proximity. From the one who is asleep with their head down, it's what one expects. Others? The fuzziness of being half in-the-bag… or simple, mundane feelings. And then there's Frank; the aforementioned tiredness and discomfort, caused by the shifting in the weather, only adds to Lillie's own fatigue. Her eyes watch the whiskey as it glugs into the glass, and she gives Frank a look of appreciation.

In a manner that would make a Walker proud, she knocks back most of it in one gulp. Oh yes yes that feels /nice/; a quick breath in and out, and Lillie centers herself. She watches Frank take a bite and waits as he chews, and she leans forth conspiratorially. "A man appeared in front of the church, accompanied by a foul smell. Like rotten eggs." She pauses, tilting her head. "Seemed to just /appear/… right after the reverend went back indoors. There was a man there with holy water, who confronted him. But that creature bore markings on his skin, for he had his chest somewhat bared in an open shirt… speaking of condemned souls. He was /vile/, I could feel it."

Frank chews, but there some contemplative chewing going along with just regular chewing, "Rotten eggs?" Condemned souls? Damn it, why aren't these evil things ever subtle? "Did the reverend confront him, or someone else?" And then the million dollar question, "What markings?"

<FS3> Lillie rolls Mind: Success.

"T—the reverend was nowhere to be found. The man with whom the reverend spoke, before this thing made itself known… he had a vial. Holy water.." Lillie trails off, rifling through her harried memories. She did her best to pay attention to the situation /and/ the being to make THIS moment more effective. Green eyes flit into the glass of whiskey as she considers. "When hit with the water, black smoke started forming at it's ankles and enveloped it… he seemed discomforted, but not threatened at all. Then he was gone…"

"The markings were… I didn't get too close, but I /really/ tried to see. What's the term…" Lillie looks up, worriedly… oh god, what was it? Come on, brain! So versed in literature, and studies, and words…. cerebral to the core. Lillie sits up straight, chest heaving. "Sigils! S—sigils.." She whispers fiercely.

These details all sound familiar, Frank is going to have to do some research. He takes another bite, although he's now trying to eat faster so he can deal with this. He nods, "Okay. If you can remember what they looked like, that would br helpful." More food, then, "Do you know who was talking to the reverend?" Sounds like a hunter, he needs to talk to them.

"I'm so sorry, I don't remember precisely what they looked like… by the time I had a hope of looking, he.. it… /whatever/ it was turned toward the man with the water, and the confrontation escalated a bit into the water being thrown." Lillie explains, brow furrowed. "If I recall anything else, I will let you know… but that's all I have. The man with the water who fended him off, he… had an accent. British. He had a nice voice." Lillie recalls earnestly, "Seemed composed. Check the church or ask the reverend there, maybe he'll know more." She urges, knocking back the rest of her whiskey. She sure looks bothered, still!

Shyly, the Irish girl slides the glass closer for a refill. Yup, it's been a long couple of days.

British accent? That's a lead anyway. "I will." Speak to the reverend. A few french fries are shoved into his mouth quickly. "What did it say?" Besides condemned souls talk. He grabs the bottle and pours her more before opting his own off.

<FS3> Lillie rolls Mind: Failure.

The Empath smiles sadly at the refill but takes a moment to really think, to recollect. "He… expressed a sort of /delight/ at being here, in this town. Speaking of terrors…. temptation…" She looks troubled now; tiredness and stress are burning away some of the details she was /sure/ she had. At this juncture, Lillie looks immensely troubled and she sips the whiskey again. "I-I… I'm sorry. Whatever that thing was, it was unafraid and ready to cause trouble. I don't know /where/ it went.. it just disappeared when all was said and done. But it seemed of a mind t—to stay and… what if it comes back.."

Frustrations are boiling over and Lillie looks down into her lap, the weight of lost sleep and too many thoughts catching up to her. She hates that she can't drum up more recollections.

Frank nods, "Alright. The first thing you need to do is collect yourself. Being this rattle isn't going to help you or anything else." He finishes off his glass, "I'll come tomorrow to proof your house." Proof it? "I have to look somethings up first." and find this British man.

Easier said than done, this collecting of self. Lillie watches Frank and nods, "Hopefully will sleep better and… yes, please come out. I'm staying there overnight now." She explains, reaching into her pocket to produce payment for both drinks and a tip. Not one to waste, Lillie puts as much of a dent as possible in the whiskey while still leaving her with enough sense to get home safely. "I will be expecting you.. be safe, Frank." She says softly, before showing herself out.

Frank glowers, thinking, "Do you have somewhere else you can stay tonight?" With someone? But she's heading out so he just nods, "Tomorrow then."

Blink… Lillie freezes in mid-step, and turns to look to Frank. A blush, and a nod. "I used to live over on Pine… I'm still close to the woman who owns the house. I can go there..?" She muses, though is nervous to walk past the church again.

Sensing her worries he sighs and starts to head out around the bar, "Mark. Watch the bar." Stepping up to the physic. "I'll walk you." He can try to talk to the reverend on his way back.

Blink, blink. Lillie looks ready to pipe up worriedly, regarding what she is certain to be soreness or exhaustion on Frank's part. But somehow she sees fit not to argue with the man… the offer to walk her, with that sigh, is a bit familiar. It constricts her gut a bit, but she still has the grace to be thankful and relieved. She /is/. "Thank you," She says, barely above a whisper, as the weight of all that she is feeling becomes that much heavier.

Lillie will keep pace with Frank, not walking too quickly. Sleep will not find her easily, once more.

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