revivalproject | Murder on the Gold Saucer Express

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Murder on the Gold Saucer Express

WHO: It was you!
WHERE: On the airship!
WHAT: With the candlestick!
WHEN: Moments after...a horrible crime has taken place! Also during the Eorzea trip.
WARNINGS: This is a murder mystery, so both of those things are going to happen. Mark it if you get gory or weird about it.
NOTES: Go here for some OOC organizing.

The Dock

Those teleporting crystals were extraordinarily advanced for a society that didn't have computers, but none of them were going to give Tony an aerial view of the land like a proper flight could. A flight like in one of those ships he had seen trundling along; not proper jets or even blimps, but something that looked like an enthusiastic hot air balloon hauling the hull of an entire sailing ship. Ridiculous, and a far more straightforward path than getting himself in the sky and then having to answer some invasive questions for the display.

A regular, dedicated loop to the Gold Saucer advertised itself as travelling in style, a glitzy prelude to the indulgence of the games, a proper pre-party party bus. It looked much shabbier in person. Tony raised a lip as he stood on the dock and the boarding plank was dropped unceremoniously with a crack, disgorging a footman who's jacket was threadbare and had long lost the lustre of the gold piping around the collar. Tony lifted his chin to try to see past the man and into the ship, only to be suddenly jostled back.

"I have the right to be here, Hedda!" a woman shrieked as another, presumably Hedda, came careening into Tony. Tony stumbled, but was quickly catching himself and her, only for her to shove him off to go barrelling back at her attacker with her own fists raised. Tony's catch became a hold on her elbows to try to draw her back as the crowd around them spread out, with nervous gasps.

"You have the right to leave, too, Vedis, so get walking!" Hedda snarled, taking very little heed of Tony trying to stop her from clawing a woman's eyes out.

"Not until Rhitfedar has heard how much damage he's doing. Every cent he spends on you is blood money!"

No amount of Tony's attempt to soothe, "Hey, okay, hey, let's calm down," was going to be heard over Hedda screeching, "You're just jealous! Stop following us around!" Tony had to physically drag her back until enough people poured into the gap made between them and apparently her mortal enemy, streaming toward the ship. She finally wrenched herself away, fussily straightening her clothes and her hair, then cast Tony a startlingly coquettish smile. "Goodness, I don't know what came over me, she's terrible, really, has been since school, she drives everyone around her crazy, it's a miracle she hasn't gotten herself killed. Say, you look like you've got some extra cash on you, do you mind buying me a ticket? I seem to have dropped mine, and I'm supposed to meet someone..."

"All aboard!" the shabby footman's voice rang out startlingly clear, and Hedda was clinging pathetically to Tony's arm then, her gaze darting to every piece of metal on him. She was getting on that ship, one way or another.

-----

The Lower Deck

"What do you think?"

A man was practically pressed against Tony's shoulder, his hand raised to wiggle his fingers under Tony's nose, making them clatter with the array of rings there all adorned with polished, glimmering seashell shards. Tony raised his eyebrows, trying to come up with the kindest possible answer, and was relieved by the man himself who continued, "I know, they're awful. Some of my worst work. The only money I'll be making back is if I sell that atrocious piece of land." He was barely actually talking to Tony, but the other men who had been standing with him, letting Tony nod slowly and turn back toward the window where he was watching the city retreat below them. "Swarming with adventurers anymore, even if there was better materials to find there they've been long since cleaned out. That dungeon. Ugh. You'd think one of them would be good enough to buy it."

"You could give it to me," one of the other men offered, voice all grit. "Call your debt even. No more worrying about the money, I won't even have to kill you anymore." Tony tried his best to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye while sidling away, not particularly eager to be surprised by another fight so soon. Maybe if he could flag down that footman, he could get more of that cheap wine in them and defuse the situation.

"Oh, well, that..." the artist was demurring, waving his clattering hands. "That speculator, Rhitfedar, he said something about a new resort, maybe, it would be a great investment for him, worth quite a bit up front, I was hoping to catch him, make so much more for both of us, really, without having to do the development work..."

---

The Dining Room

The buffet was mostly grey. Tony inspected a cracker, wondering the likelihood of getting food poisoning from something dry and stale, and if alien food poisoning was less likely to effect him or more likely to kill him. "Rhitfedar," said a voice at his elbow, to which Tony dropped the cracker and turned his attention to a bowl of dusty, wrapped candies. The voice cleared its throat, and tried again, "Mr. Rhitfedar?"

It was the footman. Tony turned, glanced around, then gestured to his chest with the candy that he had plucked up, and eventually had to accept that it was him that the footman was trying to address. "Uh, no, sorry," he said.

"Oh." The footman didn't seem to know what to do with this information, and held the box he was carrying out toward Tony anyway, which locked them in another awkward stalemate until the footman insisted, "But I saw you come in with Hedda. This package has been on board for you since this morning, if you could sign here."

"Still no, and not expecting a package," Tony tried again, inching away, not really hungry anyway and leaving the candy on top of the box for the footman's grand effort. "Good luck, honestly, he can't have gone far, step out there is pretty steep."

When Tony glanced back from the doorway, the footman was chewing slowly and peeking inside the box, brow furrowed and looking harried. To the next person who approached the buffet table, he blurted, "Mithtuh Whyfe-er?"

---

The Bathroom

Absolutely everyone on board this ship was turning out to be too touchy and potentially insane, and they had barely gotten off the ground. Tony had to make a quick retreat from an elderly woman with a very wide smile and very sticky hands before she took a bite out of him, leaving her waving her handkerchief after him and promising to have a glass of wine for him when he was done as he slipped into the security of the bathroom. Hastily, he secured the lock and braced the door for good measure as he caught his breath. This had not been his best idea, and getting an aerial view of the area wasn't even telling him anything useful. Slowly, he turned to face what new damp, dusty horror the facilities had to offer him, only to freeze, expecting bad and somehow getting worse.

There was a man on the floor.

Tony tried the footman's tactic, clearing his throat, to no avail. Right, that probably wasn't going to rouse this man any more than Tony's entrance had. Tony dropped to his knees then, gently touching a shoulder first, then trying a shake, before leaning closer to listen for any sign of breathing. That was about what he expected. Desperately, he glanced around for anything that might help as he searched for a pulse, finding only clammy skin and an empty box knocked under the dripping sink, newsprint spilling out of it, but nothing that would rouse a man from the dead.

He had to pull himself together and hurry back to the door, where he flung it open, only to brace his arm against it then throw his body in the way of another gentleman that had been waiting patiently outside. "Um," Tony started, bringing his free hand up to search for the proper phrase that conveyed the urgency of the matter, without inducing a panic on an airship. "Would you mind finding the footman?"

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"What?! No! I figure the newspaper's the most convenient way to do it but you don't know who else'll be watching."

Cayde paused, looking back at the body on the floor.

"...so um. Speaking of- I figured we stash him in the frog and you can say he got completely smashed if anyone asks questions...and...that's as far as I got on that one."

"Get her alone, just flirt a little bit," Tony dismissed, like this couldn't possibly be a hurdle, finally flapping is disloyal hands. This was a much easier problem to solve than the moral quandary Cayde then struck him with, leaving him not only with awkward, poison hands, but staring at the body and the costume he had heaped on top of it again.

"Is that...Should we do that...?" he whispered, like he could hide this questioning from his own conscience. He was pretty sure it would be effective. The cost was a more difficult equation. Not that he had a much better idea. He crouched again, pulling the costume up by the collar reluctantly.

"Right up your alley!" Cayde was more than glad to let Tony handle things. Technically he wasn't listed as a passenger, so he wasn't sure how many people might actually notice. Something he also considered briefly before figuring he'd just have to find out. At the moment he was just glad not to have to wear his helmet.

Tony's question got an exaggerated shrug. "Sounded like you wanted to get him out of here without being seen, right? I mean, easy route would still be to go tell someone but word'll spread and I don't know how great this cruise'll be with extra paranoid, panicky people."

Cayde's enthusiasm was met with a flat stare, unimpressed with this new responsibility after already getting too close to the woman with the ticket thing. She was going to try to marry him if he hung around her too long, and he'd already gotten very personal with another body today.

"Get his feet--help me at least," Tony grumbled, gathering up the horrid costume. Nobody was going to want to look directly at it, that would be working in their favour. It might even be that much worse as they came spilling out of the bathroom with the frog man slung between them over their shoulders, Tony trying for a charming smile through his grimace to assure anyone with curious glances that this was perfectly normal.

The Exo simply grinned back. He seemed to debate assisting before stepping over to help tug the rest of the frog skin onto its new victim. It was a lot harder putting it on another body rather than your own. Before they headed out, he grabbed his bag and stuck his fancy helmet on his head before readjusting his hood. Really, it was amazing how many people overlooked the thing and yet clearly noticed and took pains to avoid a frog suit.

No smiles to be seen from him, because certainly a metal face with glowing features would raise some questions, Cayde could only give a reassuring wave as he helped Tony move the frog along between them. He had no idea where their destination was after this, so he hoped Tony knew where he was going. Not much opportunity to have a proper look around the ship when you were mostly trying to avoid walking into walls.

"There's some lounge chairs on the deck, maybe we can leave him there while we--" Tony started, already hearing how it sounded as it came out of his mouth, and sure that leaving a dead body to cook in the sun in a frog costume was some kind of ethical failure that wouldn't be recovered from. In was arguably lucky, then, that the trio were suddenly stopped by the appearance of the footman, who looked as vague and unpresent as ever while his gaze lingered on the frog man, whose costume bulged awkwardly where his clothes had been stuffed roughly into it, and whose head lolled forward and feet dragged.

"I would thank you to keep your composure until we land, sirs," the footman said. "Some water for the gentleman, perhaps?"

"Sure, hey, listen--" Tony rushed by, flapping his free hand and trying not to look like he was sweating too much. "That package you were trying to give me, what happened to it?"

The footman blinked, and offered, "It was signed for."

It had started to sound like a fair idea, but Cayde quickly caught on as to how bad it could get just as Tony started to cut himself off. He nodded slowly. "Yeeeah, I don't think-"

Oh. Company. Cayde looked towards the footman, and perhaps it was a good thing his helmet hid the squint aimed at the man. Tony beat him to any snappy comments, so he could only glance between them, frowning to himself.

"By who?" he asked, hoping he wasn't being too forwardly nosey, but he thought it would be weird to have a package signed for that didn't go to the person that the guy was trying to give it to- why was that even a thing in the first place?

Despite how organized the footman looked, turning promptly to one of his many pockets that looked like it had a whole file system inside to reveal a slip of paper, this must not have been within his typical duties. He had been offering he package to random people, for starters, and now he was also offering Cayde this sheet with another vague blink, just as happy to be rid of it.

Tony jostled the arm around his shoulder, shifting the body up to try to get a better view of the signature, making the frog's head roll from where it had been resting against his chest, to horrendously all the way back. It took some baffled squinting at the illegible lettering for Tony to accept that he couldn't read it, then to notice that the footman was still there and staring at the unnatural bend of their very drunk friend's neck. Abruptly, Tony pushed his head up, keeping it braced while he tried his very natural smile on the staff.

Cayde was more surprised to be handed the thing so simply, and he shifted the paper so Tony could have a good look himself. His helmet hid the wince as he glanced over at their froggy 'friend.'

"Eh-heh...We told him to ease up but uh, you know..." he said with a half-shrug.

"Do we know who sent the thing? I mean like...I didn't realize this thing had a parcel service."

Maybe keeping the footman engaged for very much longer wasn't the best idea. He was starting to look less vague, and Tony's smile turned brittle, eyebrows starting to raise with concern and gaze darting toward Cayde.

"The Express offers many services to keep our guests comfortable," he answered, focus still on the lolling frog. "Including a trained medical staff, should it be necessary."

"Oh, no, he does this, this is normal, this is his thing, he'll snap out of it soon," Tony assured him.

Tony was the one that had been bent on findin the footman in the first place! The Hunter caught the look at least.

"Right, okay got it- didn't see that in the pamphlet. Um, carry on then, my good man..!" Cayde said, waving a hand dismissively.

The guy took the order in stride like he hadn't been eyeing them suspiciously, nodding as though he had successfully performed his important duties and marching off with determination...for a few steps. He didn't really seem to know what to do with himself, and turned to an aimless drift down the first hall that pulled him. Tony watched the whole departure until he was out of sight, then let the tension that he didn't realize he had been holding drop out of his shoulders, only to rapidly push them up again as the dead man's arm started to slip. Asking the footman for help when he just found a body was one thing. Telling the footman they had humiliated and were carrying around a dead body didn't seem as beneficial.

"That's nonsense," he reported now that they were alone, indicating with his chin toward the slip Cayde had gotten. "I can't make out a letter of it. Maybe this gal will recognize it, though. Or we can get her to give us a handwriting sample."

Cayde tilted his head after the guy, waiting for Sundance's confirmation that they were once again alone with a dead body before he looked back at Tony. "What a weird guy."

At Tony's prompt, he studied the signature on the slip again, if it could even be called that. "Well, you could always pretend you were an admirer and ask for her autograph," he suggested, grin evident in his tone. "If she's involved though, it'd just be easier to gauge for a reaction if we just showed the thing to her. But I guess we'd still need a reason why... that isn't 'because the guy with the box is dead.'"

"Do we need a reason?" Tony challenged. He didn't have a lot of mobility under the dead weight, and still did his best to glance around and give an illustrative wave of his hand; they were all stuck on this ship while it was still in the air, presumably including the socialite. She didn't have much recourse if their only argument was 'let me show you something'. Okay, that was creepy, making Tony's waving hand droop, but that same logic did also make another murder seem pretty inevitable. "An autograph is actually..." he added thoughtfully, intending to walk back this creepier tactic, only to conclude, "The artist, from the paper, he'd probably love that."

Given Tony's particular pattern during this whole situation, Cayde only rolled his eyes while he waited for him to finish going off, or at least walk through his thought process. The Hunter tilted his head at him expectantly once the man dropped his hand. He snorted a brief laugh at the proposal.

"Not like we're out here to make friends anyway. Either you'll score an autograph or a slap in the face, I dunno, you seem to know her better than I do, what's your take? Or let's just do this- er."

He glanced at their third wheel. "...are we taking him with?"

This whole situation was so firmly outside of Tony's expertise, he thought, that his instinct was to balk at the suggestion he could even handle a slap in the face, prepared to push back at any suggestion that he was prepared to take on the dead body issue. As much as he had bristled at the murder accusation, Cayde should have been the one with the corpse experience. Tony's wrinkled nose softened, though, as he compartmentalized with a determined breath, accepting that he had probably taken at least as many slaps as Cayde, hard to say, that was a long lifespan that he was competing against. It was still with impatient frustration that he hissed, "I don't know, I don't know, I thought you had a plan, you leapt through the ceiling with a plan." With another breath, he said more evenly, "Showing her a piece of paper is probably less risky than showing her a dead guy."

Cayde didn't usually worry about the corpses after he shot people, aside from looking for some good loot. Murder seemed to be a completely different matter.

"Me?? My plan was to get my clothes so I could give the dead guy the frog suit!" he hissed back, waving the dead frog's arm in emphasis. "But yeah, I think that's generally the better way to go over introducing dead guys to people."

"That's not a plan, that's a costume change!" Tony would know, he was an expert at not having a plan, and could tell when it was happening even if it was dressed up with soulless eyes. Unfortunately, arguing about it in the middle of the hall was not going to make it any better of a plan, and the dead weight over his shoulders was slowly reducing him to a sweaty mess that rapidly losing any chance to appeal to a lady about a murder. He heaved at the arm he carried to drag him and Cayde along, with determination and without direction still. At least if they weren't lingering, they only made a passing, bizarre impression, rather than a lasting one.

Please Tony, you really should know better than to expect actual plans from Cayde-6.

Surely this boat had seen stranger. Not that Cayde was going to place any bets on that as he trailed a moment and then hustled to keep pace with Tony once the man started to walk again.

"Belated realization, but uh... the more we're seen with this guy the more likely it'd be that we'd be pinned for the murder if anyone figures out he's dead," he noted.

At this point, even if they didn't get accused themselves, they were definitely breaking at the very least some ethical expectations that were going to land them in trouble, so Tony suggested, "We're really racking up the plans we don't have, because an exit strategy is going to have to come fast and hard." With a decisive nod, he added more optimistically, "But we solve this fast, maybe it'll just be a misdemeanour on the record this side of the galaxy instead of a felony. Maybe still get a visa next time we visit."

"Haven't gotten myself locked in jail around here yet, don't wanna mess up my record," Cayde replied without missing a beat. "Exit's easy, we just hop off the edge, hang by a rope and then drop when we see something suitable we wanna land by."

Says the guy that can interrupt his jumps and falls in midair.

The guy that could not do that pouted with some intrigue at the proposal, head tilted and most definitely calculating how exactly he'd have to land the higher up they were hanging. His features froze like that after a beat, a new calculation, this one more philosophical, before he suggested, "We don't have to be the ones hanging." If they were that worried about being seen with the body.

Cayde tilted his head at him. "What, we're gonna string up the frog?" That seemed more morbid than leaving him on the sundeck. "Well hey, sooner we get rid of this guy, the better because I'm not standing here with him the rest of this trip, that'll get old real fast."

Also won't help for any further potential victims, if that paper had anything to say about things.

"It's already decrepit," Tony agreed. The body had been terrible company since Tony had met him, and had worn out his welcome by the time Cayde showed up. And while that period of time had certainly felt longer than it actually was, Tony was naggingly aware that it was suddenly going to seem like no time at all when they found they had wasted it while someone else was being murdered. He nodded to encourage Cayde on faster, toward the fresh air of the deck where they were sure to find rope. It was a boat, after all.

Whoever was hoping to get some good promotions with this frog suit was probably going to end up tanking their business at this rate. Cayde however had no qualms about it as he hurried along with Tony.

There was rope for tying off the floating ship, he guessed, not that he had much ship experience outside of the ones that flew in space and those were very different. At least he proved to know his knots somehow, so once they'd set their froggy pal down, Cayde set to work in tying the end of the rope just under his arms, making sure it was nice and snug. He gave Tony a thumbs-up, as though they were merely playing some kind of prank rather than hiding evidence.

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...that last pose looked a lot longer on my phone, oops

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