Play@YSDC

"Looks like there's someone else looking around out here," says Laurent, indicating the light.

"There's something over there too!" Florence points (what colour clothing was Marise wearing?).

"D'accord, let's go see what it is first," says Laurent. "Whoever has the light probably can take care of himself."

Mephistophilis wrote:

OOC,Let's say Marise was wearing a light blue karabela dress (a long off the shoulder quadrille dress) with white lacing on the top half.

Fearing what a pale colour might mean, Florence near-runs toward whatever the objct is.

Florence stumbles across the sand, moving in an oblique angle across the beach and down towards the water. Fabrice and Laurent try to keep up with her the best they can.

In the moonlight everything seems exaggerated. The waves lapping the sand, liquid silver. Tangled sea-grape bushes swaying and writhing in the breeze, upflung arms with multiple hands and undulating fingers. The inky shadow-twin of a crab prowling the shore for food, more real than itself.

The waves whimper and the breeze in the sea grapes sighs, rustles, and hisses. The beach sand protests the intrusion, deep beneath the damp surface, faint, high pitched squeals.

As Florence draws nearer she can see there is a tall dark figure trudging along the water's edge towards them. The figure stops, the stark white in the moonlight is his face, a long, thin face like a white mask with large dark holes for eyes.

Pulling up behind her, Fabrice approaches with the lantern and the pale face takes on a warmer orange hue. The pale, white complexion contrasting with black shirt and trousers that cover most of the rest of him. His expression is blank and at first he does not even seem to register them. On the wind there is a strong, off-putting smell, perhaps onion or garlic, and maybe alcohol underneath that.

Florence stops short at the sight, visibly stricken by it not being Marise. She opens her mouth to ask if the figure has seen her, but there's something sinister about him - something that makes her not want to tell him that her daughter is alone out here.

Does the figure react at all to our approach?

Laurent hurries to catch up to Florence.

"Hel-lo," Florence says hesitantly.

At first the figure does not seem to react at all, he just keeps on walking along the water's edge. He is dressed all in black, hard to see even in the moonlight, and his clothes hang heavily, like they're damp. His face and hands are very pale, unnaturally so to Florence's eyes. In the too-white face his eyes are shadowed but as they catch the light she sees they are unfocused, not seeming to register anything before him.

OOC,I think that calls for an Insight roll (like Sanity) for Florence - roll 1d6 and if you get above your Insight (currently 1) then it goes up by 1 and your character is scared in some way

Catching up with her, Fabrice shouts to the man, 'Bonswa, compère. Comment yo rélé ou?'

Creole,[color=#004040]'Good evening, friend. What's your name?'[/color]

Only after Fabrice greets him does the man seem to notice the three of them. His eyes focus first on Florence, then he registers the other two. Nervously he says 'Mwen pa konprann. Mwen pa pale kreyol. Je parle un peu français' in what sounds like a slurred American accent.

Creole,[color=#0000FF]'I don't understand. I don't speak Creole.'[/color] Then, in French, [color=#0000FF]'I speak a little French.'[/color]

OOC,The characters can attempt to speak to the man in French, that'll be a 1d6 for both unless you risk your Insight. Since you probably know a fair bit of French you'll likely get a fair bit back. You could also try another language, I'd give Laurent 2d6 for trying English due to his love of American culture but he still is probably a more fluent French speaker.

OOC,I rolled a 3, so my Insight is now 2.

"Are you all right?" Florence asks in French, still not willing to mention Marise yet. (Really, she's anxious to get away from this conversation and keep looking, maybe going after the person with the light).

OOC,I rolled a 4 for French.

Recognizing the stranger's American accent, Laurent smiles and tries English with even better effect. "What's happening, Daddy-O?" he asks. "You speak English, right?"

OOC,English roll (human die, profession die): 0

In a mixture of American English and faltering, slurred, and oddly formal French, the man introduces himself as Lawton Lindo, a patient currently being treated at the Azagon. He says he's a lawyer from Baltimore in the US. He says he was out walking because he couldn't sleep and stares out into the dark waters for an uncomfortably long time until Fabrice asks him where he was walking to. He looks panicked for a second then says he has been walking in his sleep recently.

Laurent is able to have a more in depth conversation in English. Lindo says 'I've been sleepwalking too often lately!'

'Along the shore?' asks Laurent

'I—well, at least once, yes. I was almost at that strange cove once when I woke up. That Anse—what is it called?'

'Anse Douce.'

'Yes. Anse Douce. In fact, I was there, and even though it was night, I had to resist a strong urge to go swimming.'

'It is a dark night. I'm surprised you got this far without a light.'

Lindo also lets slip to Laurent that he's being treated for difficulties with alcohol and says, 'You know what's strange, I never had any problems with sleepwalking until I came to St Joe.'

OOC,With that 5 I think Laurent gets a bit more info

Laurent translates into Creole for the others. "Have you seen a local teenage girl?" he asks in English. "Her name is Marise, and she's very pretty." He goes on to describe her in detail.

Florence does not try quiet Laurent, having been reassured somewhat about Lindo's nature. She adds a description of what Marise was wearing.

When she's done, she looks back in the direction of where the lantern was. "That light was heading to the cove," she says.

Lindo raises a hand to his high forehead. It is shaking as he runs it through his close cropped hair, pale hair almost as white as his skin, which glistens, with sweat or moisture.

'I, er, I didn't see anyone, I don't think.' A vague smile plays across the thin lips and weak chin. His eyes seem to glaze over again. Without saying anything else he turns and starts wandering back up the beach.

"Shall we see who that is with the light?" Laurent asks.

"Yes," Florence says. She stares after Lindo for a moment, then turns and heads in that direction, not quite running.

The three turn back from the beach, and the rapidly retreating outline of Lindo, towards Pointe Pierre. At a brisk pace, Florence in the lead, they walk back towards the pier. The single light in Anse Douce is still visible but as they arrive at Pointe Pierre, the spit of land separating the cove from the long stretch of beach behind, they hear something on the wind, coming down from the direction of Dame Marie.

Drums, beating a maddening rhythm, buzzing trumpets, and something lower, voices, chanting. Looking up at the village they can see lights at the far end, where the gradual incline of the streets reaches the market and the Hounfor quarter.