IC: Fortunate Little Things [Brewster Cushing]

[Kadael]

The courtyard of the Miskatonic University should be beautiful. It's a spring morning, fulfilling promises of pleasant weather and sweet flowers. Beads of dew sparkle on the grass like gemstones, and little birds flit around the ivy-covered trees. Yes, the sight ought to be lovely, but there are all these rich, young academics about!

They're little more than children, and certainly act the part: running with excitable bursts of energy, chattering about pointless things, and - worst of all - littering the grounds with all manner of disposable objects. Trash bins are invisible to people like them. There is always someone else to deal with it.

Someone like Brewster.

The University has a good reputation. That reputation can't be sullied by some scandalous, forgotten love letter trampled into the earth. It would be unthinkable. And in order to pretend that none of that happens, they have him.

[Quinch]

Brewster scratches his stubbled chin and shakes his head. He glares at the littering youngsters and mutters a stream of profanity with practiced ease.

"You know I've got better things to do than pick up your trash," he spits at the nearest miscreant.

Nevertheless, his deep commitment to the University forbids him hurrying on with the place in such a state. He tidies up as best he can, conscious however that the list of jobs on his notebook is longer than his arm. He makes a mental note to arrange another appointment with the Dean. He hasn't wasted his time futilely complaining about litter and misbehaviour for days now and the Dean is probably beginning to wonder if he's ill.

[Kadael]

To his credit, the miscreant has the decency to look guilty and mutter a sheepish apology, though he makes no effort to help.

There's an ear-piercing shriek a second later - not here, but from behind the Department of Physics, if Brewster had to guess. Some of the students turn their heads curiously, but most ignore it and go about their lazy business.

[Quinch]

Brewster fires one last savage look of righteous indignation at the student and then hurries off towards the sound of the scream.

"Haven't you got classes to go to?" he fires back over his shoulder at the unfortunate student. "Or are you only here to make my job more difficult? Pesky kids."

He wonders to himself what new villainy the students are up to to cause such screaming.

[Kadael]

Once Brewster makes it around the building, he's faced with quite a sight: a tall man in a light-colored jacket is pressed up against a window, pounding on the glass with open palms, murmuring something fast and incoherent.

A mere foot away, a young lady is screaming her head off, hands over her eyes.

[Quinch]

"Oi!" shouts Brewster as he rounds the corner to the scene of the crime. "You there, what do you think you're doing?"

Brewster rushes over to the man and grabs his arm, trying to pull him away from the window. He tries to ignore the young lady for now, even though her screaming is making his eyes water.

[Kadael]

Someone is shouting some distance away, but the lady's screaming and crying is far too loud to make it out.

As soon as Brewster so much as touches the man, he stops his pounding and lets his arms fall to his sides. The only features of his face not hidden in his tangled, matted hair are his lips, moving continuously with his mutterings: "...huge... stars... living! ...waiting... waiting..."

A young male student rushes over to the girl and pulls her away from the scene, whimpering apologies. "Eliza, God, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have..." Behind him stand two other men, both of them well-dressed and vaguely familiar. University staff, most likely.

The man's arm tenses under Brewster's grip. Slowly, he turns away from the window.

Brewster,Please move to the following thread: [url=http://www.callofcthulhu.org.uk/viewtopic.php?f=224&t=3194]Perception[/url]