Play@YSDC

It is coming up to eleven o’clock on Saturday night and Florence Lavigne is starting to close up the Sharktooth bar. A few flickering lanterns illuminate the empty seating area. Only old Pierre Labas sits at the bar, puffing on his pipe and strumming a beaten up steel-strung guitar. His black and white potcake dog curled around his feet. Aubert, equally venerable owner of the Sharktooth, waves to Pierre and receives a perfunctory nod in return. ‘Au revoir, commère’ he says to Florence but stops beside her for a moment, leaning on the counter, listening to Pierre as he plays some kind of American blues, initially humming and then singing in English, although neither Aubert nor Florence understand the words,

• ‘You better come on in my kitchen
  Well, it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors…’

Florence stares out into the darkness, seeing only occasional weak flashes of light from the waterfront. Too far for the salty, fishy tang of the pier, the air is heavy with the smell of Dame Marie, gutters, and garbage, and donkey shit.

Her husband Fabrice would usually be here by now, on his way home from fishing, waiting as she closed up and walking her back to the house through Dame Marie’s dark streets. Fabrice has taken their fourteen year old son Pierre out for some night fishing as the school holidays have just begun. They’re trying out the new outboard motor the American George Benson has introduced to the fishermen.

She hopes her other children are behaving themselves, her sister Lusette is babysitting the little ones while she works. Of course her eldest, sixteen year old Marise, she could have looked after the younger ones, after all she refused to come and help her mother at the Sharktooth like she used to. Marise stormed off, saying she was going to Pointe Pierre to listen to music at Old Man Samuel’s shop with the other teenagers. She used to be such a lovely girl, so clever, so pretty, helpful and kind, now, well now she seems to have changed in the last few months. She was disdainful, even hostile at times. Florence worried about her, she’d even made an appointment for Marise to see their family doctor, Louis Clermont, anything that might help.

Florence can't shake her despondent thoughts about Marise as she finishes closing, and it leaves her unwilling to return to an empty house - she decides to go to Lusette's first and collect the girls before Lusette would bring them home. She goodnight to Aubert and old Pierre before setting off.

'Au revoir, commère' grunts Labas and his dog gives a little whine. Aubert shouts after her 'N a we, Florence, say hi to Marise for me, tell her we miss her.'.

Florence takes a lantern and starts out into the dark streets of Dame Marie. Of course she's walked this route hundreds of times but she can't shake a slight feeling of unease that Fabrice and Pierre haven't returned yet. She always worries about them when they go fishing in the dark, even if Fabrice says the catches are better. She walks up and away from the waterfront, past the shops of the main street, dark and shuttered for the night, some with wooden doors fastened shut, others with drop-down iron fronts that look like drawbridges from movies of old England. Here and there are houses with the lamps still burning, the occasional figures silhouetted in the yellow glow, the bigger homes with verandas overlooking the street. The air is warm and sticky, and she can hear the rats scurrying in the gutter.

The deserted open-air marketplace is dark and spooky under its banana thatch roof, but Florence turns away down a side-street before reaching the marketplace and the Hounfor district behind, the poorest part of town where the local Vodou people live. Her sister Lusette is only a few doors down from her own house, the narrow streets of a less well off neighbourhood, but still respectable. The usually bright pink paint of Lusette's house is drab and unremarkable in the lantern light, but Florence still identifies it quickly from years of practice. She knocks on the front door, like her own home it is a narrow fronted wooden house, distinguishable from some of the neighbours mainly by the light streaming around the doorframe and the shuttered windows.

Opening the wooden door, the robust shape of Lusette fills the doorway, blocking the warm yellow glow from inside, she kisses Florence and invites her in. Glancing around the room she can make out Lusette's three children and her own youngest two, thirteen year old Ginny and eight year old Rosalie, the latter curled up asleep on her sister's lap. Lusette's husband Daniel sits in the corner, he looks to be asleep as well. Florence feels that pang of unease again seeing that Marise is not with them.

Wanting to confirm it, and hoping she's wrong, Florence asks, "Is Marise here?"

Lusette's face shows a pang of concern, 'No sign of Marise, Sè. Maybe she met with Fabrice if she was down in Pointe Pierre?'

"You're right, that is where she said she was going. She'll be the death of me, I swear." Florence takes a few deep breaths. "Fabrice should be home soon. Thankyou, Lusette."

She tries to pick Rosalee up without waking herr - then carry her back home, letting Ginette hold the lantern.

After travelling the few doors down to her own house, Rosalie sleeping in her arms, Florence unlocks the front door in the flickering light cast by Ginette's lantern. It is pitch black inside.

Like all the houses in this part of town it is a series of rooms one behind another, opening directly into each other with no separate corridor or hallway. In the living room at the front Florence lights another lantern and then carries Rosalie through to the bedroom to put her down to sleep. She then goes to the rear of the house where the kitchen is and fixes a glass of water for her and Ginette.

She takes a seat opposite the door and waits. There is a gentle knocking at the door.

Florence gets up and opens the door, hoping against hope that it's Fabrice and Pierre, with Marise in tow.

Opening the front door Florence sees her husband Fabrice and their fourteen year old son Pierre. Beside them is Pierre's schoolfriend Laurent Toussaint. In the weak lamplight the three of them are bright faced and cheerful, they seem to have been having a good laugh and a joke on the way here

-----

After knocking, the front door to Fabrice's house is wrenched open surprisingly quickly. Silhouetted in the lamplight stands Florence Lavigne, she seems agitated and upset. Lying asleep on a chair behind her can be seen the thirteen year old Ginette Lavigne.

OOC,Maybe a chance to describe Florence and Laurent, or even Fabrice and Pierre if you like

Laurent Toussaint is a tall, gangly youth. He wears blue jeans, a white T-shirt with a leather jacket over it, and a red beret. "What is wrong, Madame Lavigne?" he asks, seeing the look on her face.

Florence is a broad-framed woman, quite muscular, with long curled hair tied back into a rough mass - she's wearing a sleeveless green dress.

Fabrice is also broad and muscular, tall, and very handsome - he cuts his hair short. Pierre takes after his father in facial looks, but is more slightly built. While Marise is two years older, she looks enough like Pierre that they could be mistaken for twins.

"Marise isn't with you?" Florence exclaims, trying to keep her voice low enough not to wake Rosalie. "But she said she was going to Point Pierre!"

"Non, I thought she would be here," says Laurent. "We didn't see her there. If she had gone there directly from here, we would have passed her on the way. What time did she leave?"

"Before I went to work... I asked her to help, and... We have to find her."

"Of course," says Laurent. "Where else do you think she might have gone?"

"Old Man Samuel's, that's what she said. Where else would you go, if you weren't being there? Pierre, stay and watch the girls, we'll be back as soon as we can."

Florence bundles a shawl around herself and prepares to head out again.

Laurent heads out with Florence.

'We will be back soon Pierre' says Fabrice and he turns to walk back out into the darkness, taking the lantern with him. 'We will drop you back home on the way Laurent' he says impassively, all the previous lightness and mirth drained from his face.

The three of them, Fabrice, Florence, and Laurent head back down into the village, walking in near silence, the weight of the missing Marise hanging heavily between them. Somewhere in the night they can hear a slow beating, rhythmic but chaotic, a crazed drummer in the dark.

The moon is now out, bathing the streets with an stark silver glow that contrasts with the soft orange light of the lantern. Past the village proper they arrive back at Pointe Pierre, a natural spit of land that divides the shoreline of Dame Marie in two. To the west is the cove of Anse Douce and to the east the long stretch of sandy beach that leads, eventually, to the Azagon Hotel.

From Pointe Pierre the wooden pier juts out into the sea. Pale and knotted wooden planks with wide gaps between them mounted on pilings driven into the seabed. It glistens, wet and sharp in the moonlight. A few handmade boats are tied to the pier itself and bob on the water. Most of the traditional ceiba-tree dugouts are pulled high up on the sand, shadowy humps like the bodies of unidentifiable sea creatures beached at high tide.

There are many of the fishermen's shacks down by the shore, only a few, like Fabrice, are able to make enough to live up in the village. But the shacks are now dark and silent. The short row of wooden huts that overlook the pier, a few businesses that make their trade from the fishermen, they are all closed up now, wooden doors fastened and shutters down. Old Man Samuel’s shop is the largest of the huts. With his battery powered radio playing the latest music from the US and Cuba there are usually crowds of the local youths, desperate for something different to the traditional méringue of St Joseph. But it is shut up now like the rest.

Fabrice, Florence, and Laurent stand by the pier, looking up and down the beach. There is no one visible, even with the large bright moon. The sea is black, almost oily under the pale light.

In the background the night air is undercut by the incessant swishing of the sea against the sand, the inescapable tang of fish, ingrained in the wooden boards of the pier, the taste of salt in the air blown in from the sea.

OOC,Do you want to roll me a perception check. I'd say that is 1d6 each as it is within human capability, not a career specialism, and I'm guessing you don't want to gamble Insight on it yet this early.

Florence knows she can't just bang on doors on the offchance the people inside know something. She casts her gaze about, trying to pick up some sign of Marise's presence.

OOC,I'm tempted to roll insight because it's my daughter and I'm desperate,but I won't. I got a 3.

Laurent takes a look around, but it's too dark to see much.

OOC,Perception roll (human die): 0

Even in the moonlight it is difficult to see much further than the sea lapping against the sand and timber pilings of Pointe Pierre.

However, both Florence and Laurent do notice something in the direction of Anse Douce cove, a faint light bobbing up and down along the shore.

Turning in the opposite direction, Florence also thinks she might see something way out down the coastline towards the Azagon. It is very hard to make out and she is not sure if there is anything there at all, but it seems like the moonlight is reflecting off something pale or white.

"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.

Hoping that the light along the beach is not too far for the sound to carry, Florence calls "Marise!"

Laurent also calls out to the figure as he hurries toward it.

Their cries sound flat in the warm night air and the far away light continues to bob slightly in the dark cove of Anse Douce.

They hurry past Pointe Pierre onto the sand of the sheltered cove. The lantern beam picks out lumps of coral of assorted shapes and sizes, magnifying them, creating a fantasy world of shadows. Hovering briefly over clumps of seaweed, crabs scurrying from the light.

The illumination touches a small-bodied, long-legged bird, seemingly asleep on its feet. It springs to life and goes racing down the shore ahead of them with its wings outspread but rigid. Not a pelican. Much smaller than that. But for some reason it causes them to think of pelicans.

Sweating with the exertion, the breeze off the sea is so light it barely cools their faces in the close, humid air. The waves are just silver ripples, touching the shore with less noise than their ragged breathing.

-----

Drawing nearer to the bobbing light they can make out two figures, one taller, the other shorter. Picking their way slowly across the sand.

"Marise!" Florence screams again, continuing to run.

Laurent keeps running too.

The taller figure raises a hand, in greeting or response. The smaller one seems to shrink down and hang back.

OOC,You can roll to see if you recognise them from a distance, 1d6 unless you risk an Insight die

Laurent instantly recognizes the figures.

Even in the dark, and at this distance, Florence couldn't fail to recognise her daughter Marise. Laurent can also tell it is her. Beside Marise the taller figure looks to be a man in uniform, in his shirt sleeves, the bulk of his jacket wrapped around the girl beside him. His outline suggests the Armée de St Joseph, whose khaki-uniformed soldiers are the closest thing St Joe has to a police force.

Something is not right about the way that Marise moves. Intermittently the uniformed figure seems to pull her along. The rest of the time she drags her feet. She seems smaller, even for such a slight girl there is something shrunken about her frame. Florence is sure something has happened. Something bad.

Getting closer, they recognise the young commander of the local army post in Dame Marie, Lieutenant Roger Etienne. His face is friendly but concerned as he strides forward, almost dragging Marise along. His usually stiff and tightly styled moustache sags a little.

She is cloaked in shadows but it is quickly clear that under the jacket she is naked. Laurent averts his gaze in embarrassment. Marise does not look happy, or at least, her expression does not change, does not register recognition or joy at seeing Florence, Fabrice, or Laurent. Her eyes seem empty, her usually dark, rich skin, gold in the sun, now looks dull, flat, almost grey in the anaemic light of the moon.

'Bonsoir' says Lt Etienne. Marise says nothing, her gaze downcast.

The faint hint of night-blooming jasmine has been hanging in the air of Anse Douce. As Marise and the Lieutenant arrive, the jasmine is overwhelmed by a strong smell of salt and the sea. Marise's hair hangs lank and damp. Contrasting with its dull and shadowy appearance, there is something in her hair, a slide or hairclip, reflecting back the pale light with a bright, glistening hue.

Laurent,Marise has changed, changed since he last saw her only a day or so ago. Changed in a fundamental way that he can't articulate. The way the moonlight seems to shy away from her outline, the night gathering around her in shadows. Her usually hazel eyes are a deep green, like seawater and for a moment he has an impression of her submerged underwater, crying out, gasping for air. ----- As Laurent has rolled a 6 he needs to check his Insight - roll 1d6 and if you roll higher than 1 his Insight goes up to 2

Florence skids to her knees in front of her daughter - part of her had been nursing anger, but that emotion is chased off by the horror of seeing Marise in this condition. "Oh, ma petite!" She pulls her shawl off and makes to wrap it round Marise. She burns to ask what happened, but knows that should wait. "Let us take you home now."

Laurent miraculously manages to keep it together. "I think she has been in the sea," he says. "She may have been drowning. Her eyes have changed color too. They're green now."

Florence takes a moment to look into her daughter's face. "My poor girl..." With the impact of Laurent's revelation, she can't stop herself adding, "What has happened to you?"

Lt Etienne shakes his head, 'Non, I do not think she has been in the water, I found her sitting naked on the beach, staring out to sea'. In a meticulous accent, mixing French and Creole, he says 'I came down to Anse Douce looking for les jeunes using drugs, marigwana, and found her on the sand, in the dark. Je suis désolé, I could not find her clothes.' He look a little abashed at the admission.

Florence looks into Marise's face but her daughter doesn't meet her gaze, just stares past her, zombie-like. It is strange but her eyes do seem greener, although they've always been a hazel colour with green notes, probably just the moonlight.

Getting more agitated, Fabrice grabs Marise's hand and pulls her towards him and says harshly, 'Ti fi estipid! What have you been doing?' but Marise says nothing.

Lt Etienne looks uncomfortable at her father manhandling her and mutters, 'All she will say is she wanted to see the sea.'

"I don't think whatever happened was her fault," says Laurent. "We should speak to her gently, and bring her home. Marise? It's Laurent. You're safe now. We're here to help you."

"Come with me, ma petite, I will take you home," Florence says, with a sharp glare at Fabrice. She rises, but keeps an arm around Marise, and tries to guide the girl back toward the town.

The five of them walk back towards Pointe Pierre, Florence with her arm tight around Marise and Lt Etienne lagging slightly behind the rest.

As they approach the pier the drumming is much closer now and they can see a procession of people, lit by many lanterns, moving down towards the shore. Some of them carry things on their shoulders, a wooden basket, and what looks like a white sheep with its feet trussed. The chanting has stopped but the night is filled with a rhythmic thunder as men play great tanbou barrel drums that they haul along with them. Accompanied by single note vaccine trumpets, and crashing bamboo sticks. The noise is hypnotic and disorientating.

OOC,You can roll to figure out what's going on - I'd say it is no one's profession so human die 1d6 unless you risk Insight

Laurent isn't sure what's happening.

OOC,Rolled a 1.

Florence has no idea what's happening, and instinctively maneuvers herself and Marise as if to shield her daughter from the crowd.

Lt Etienne is from a more privileged St Joe mulatto background and seems very uncomfortable with the sights and sounds of the procession.

-----

Both Florence and Laurent recognise that this is a Vodou ceremony. They are unable to catch sight of any priests, male houngans or female mambos. The wooden basket is full of food and drink and along with the sheep will be an offering to whatever loa is being celebrated.

Laurent,Laurent thinks the ceremony looks to be one to Agoué, loa of the sea and a common focus of worship in Dame Marie. The wooden basket is actually a little model of a boat which will be taken out by the fishermen at dawn and set adrift as the sheep is thrown overboard and drowned. While he can't see any houngans or mambos he does notice old Pierre Labas under a sacred malou tree, laughing and playing his guitar with the palm of his hand like a drum. His black and white potcake dog running in circles around his feet. He gives Laurent a big grin. ----- While watching Pierre, Laurent catches sight of something behind him, it looks like a pale figure running down the beach, from the direction of Anse Douce, he's not just pale, Laurent thinks he's naked.

Florence gives the procession a respecful berth, but she's fixated on getting Marise home.

"It's a ceremony to Agoué, loa of the sea," says Laurent. "That basket is a little boat that they'll set adrift at dawn, and they'll throw the sheep into the sea as an offering." He looks back behind Pierre. "There's a pale figure running down the beach. I wonder if it's our American ami. It looks like he's not wearing any clothes."

Fabrice follows Laurent's gaze, 'And maybe he attacked my pitit fi' he says, and runs after the vanishing figure. Lt Etienne looks confused for a moment before following on behind Fabrice.

Laurent hurries after them.

Laurent runs extremely fast.

Florence looks after her husband and the others, but she still wants to get Marise home, so she keeps going, whispering reassurances into the girl's ear. She spares a respectful nod for the procession.

Laurent easily outpaces Fabrice and Lt Etienne, his feet pounding the soft sand as he thunders after the pale figure. He can see now that they are definitely naked, with pale white skin glistening in the moonlight. Thinning hair, the man is tall but overweight. Despite carrying all that fat the man is fast, like an athlete, and he is soon pulling away from Laurent.

-----

Laurent collapses down into the sand, panting raggedly, completely exhausted. He watches the figure disappear into the darkness up the beach, towards to Azagon Hotel.

He hasn't been able to see any distinguishing features of the man but did notice that his left calf had a pattern of several dark marks, like a bite wound.

-----

Eventually Fabrice and Lt Etienne catch up with Laurent and help him up. Glancing into the darkness that has completely swallowed the man.

OOC,That was a fail since the first die was a 6 which opposed Laurent's 5. In future, if you want, you can reroll by adding in an Insight die if you don't like a result - with the risk of insanity of course - and you can keep doing this.

------

Florence and Marise continue to make their way slowly back into town, finally the three men join them, still breathing heavily after their unsuccessful chase.

"We couldn't catch him," says Laruent, panting for breath. "I was fast, but he was faster. He ran toward the Azagon Hotel. I did see that it looked like he'd been bitten on his left calf." He describes the man.

'Sometimes I think that hotel is more trouble than it's worth' says Lt Etienne, 'Especially since they turned it into some kind of hospital.' Fabrice grunts his agreement, 'Americans!' he curses. 'I will ask around, see if anyone else saw the naked man, I wonder what bit him, I can't imagine he was in the water' says Lt Etienne. He says his goodbyes and leaves the others as they make their way back up the hill into the town, the sounds and lights of the ceremony continuing behind them, the rasping trumpet of conch shell horns adding to the cacophony. Marise remains sullen and silent.

-----

When they arrive back at the house the children are all asleep, even Pierre. Marise slumps into a chair, her face expressionless. Fabrice turns to Laurent, 'Mèsi for all your help tonight, compère.' His face is dark, 'I do not know what happened to my pitit fi but I intend to find out.' A look of anguish comes over him, 'But Pierre and I need to take out the boat tomorrow morning, I promised to pick up George Benson from Cap Matelot, some St Joe City politicians are taking out his big cruiser, Ti Maman.'

OOC,As an aside, if you ever want to know if your character knows any more about something you think they should now about, e.g. who someone is or about a location in the area, then just roll for it.

Laurent knows all about George Benson. "I was glad to do what I could," he says, though he likes Americans in general. "I could help tomorrow."

Florence kneels down beside Marise, taking her face in her hands. "Please talk to me, ma petite. You are safe now. No one can hurt you any more."

'Well that's very kind of you Laurent says Fabrice, perhaps you could help Florence tomorrow,' he turns to Florence, 'Your sister could take the children, give you a chance to ask around about tonight, find out what happened.'

-----

Despite Florence's best attempts Marise remains sullen and quiet. She won't make eye contact and will not speak.

Florence,That's going to take a roll - I'd say you get the two d6, human and career. Plus you can add Insight if you like.

-----

George Benson is an American fisherman. He's been in Dame Marie about six months with his wife Alice. He was hired by the St Joe government, or provided by the US government, to teach the local fishermen in modern fishery techniques. He has an office in Dame Marie and a 30ft twin engine cruiser Ti Maman that is usually moored in Pointe Pierre. Since his boat is provided by the St Joe government it is sometimes lent out to politicians as a pleasure cruiser. Most of the fishermen are pretty happy with George's help. Before George came along it had been a good day if the fishermen's wives or merchants had a few jacks or Spanish mackerel for sale, along with trash fish that nobody really wanted. Now it was a poor day if you couldn't find grouper and weakfish and mango snapper and sometimes even pompano as well, along with what old timers still called poisson rouge and poisson noir - and even herring sprats.

The name Ti Maman is St Joe slang, it means somewhere between 'little mother' and 'sweetheart', a mistress or sweetheart who has borne a man a child. It kindles memories of the old song:

• Ti maman
  Fe ti ha pou mwen
  Pa kitém allé...

'Ti maman, give me a little kiss, don't let me go...'

Laurent,Laurent thinks George said he is from somewhere on the US Eastern Seaboard, Massachusetts maybe. Laurent is particularly pleased with the new outboard motors he's introduced, since they provide extra work for him keeping them going. He has also noticed that George's wife Alice is very attractive in a pale sort of way. Laurent doesn't know much about fishing but the transformation in the catches over the last six months seems nothing short of miraculous to him. ----- OOC: Laurent scored a 6 so he needs to roll against Insight

Once again, Laurent is very hard to disturb.

Mephistophilis wrote: ↑Sat Apr 03, 2021 10:56 pmDespite Florence's best attempts Marise remains sullen and quiet. She won't make eye contact and will not speak.

Florence,That's going to take a roll - I'd say you get the two d6, human and career. Plus you can add Insight if you like.

OOC,Rolled 3 and 6, no insight necessary.

Florence will take Etienne's advice the the next day and go out with Laurent to ask questions. She will tell her sister that Marise was hurt, but no more than that.

Marise is mostly silent. She throws on a shift and collapses into a chair, staring blankly at the wall. After much coaxing all she will say is that she felt like walking on the beach, felt like walking naked. She says she left her dress on the sand and doesn't know what happened to it. She wanted to be by herself and think, but she says Florence would not understand about what. She says she just sat on the beach and looked at the sea and did not see anyone else in Anse Douce until Lt Etienne found her.

Florence stares at her daughter, she used to be such a kind and loving girl, the last few months she has been increasingly detached, irritable, complaining of headaches and spending more and more time out at Pointe Pierre. Now Marise seems barely there at all. Pushing up her chin and looking into her eyes, Florence sees what Laurent was talking about, usually hazel, they have a deep green colour in this light, like seawater. She was so beautiful, so full of life, but now her usually lustrous complexion looks flat and grey. Recently she's shown little concern about her appearance but this glistening hairclip is new.

Florence,Florence reflects, darkly, that it's like Marise's 'ti bon ange', her spirit, has gone, and all that is left is her 'gros bon ange', the basic biological functions, like the old stories of the zombi. Looking closer at the hairclip, Florence is sure she's never seen it before, it is unusual, made from a burnished golden alloy, intricately crafted with a certain exotic beauty, it seems to depict some kind of sea creature, a cuttlefish perhaps, but it's oddly shaped, bloated. Just looking at it makes her feel uncomfortable, queasy even. ----- OOC - Florence will need to test Insight - 1d6 and if you roll above current Insight (2?) then Insight goes up by one

OOC,Laurent does indeed seem to have an iron will. Any more to do tonight or is everyone ready to go to bed and start again tomorrow?

OOC,I rolled above Insight, so it's now 3. First chance she gets, Florence wants to get rid of the hair clip, but she doesn't want to take it off of Marise now - she can tell Marise isn't telling her everything, and has the worst fears of what the rest might be.

Florence will let Marise sleep for now, and turn in herself.