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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A system that ran itself didn't have the same requirements that a full, human crew would need, and as Tony tried his best to sneak after Cayde like slinking around would look any more innocent, he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Somewhere central. Like...right in the middle," he suggested. With a glance up, then back over his shoulder, he quickly tried to map where exactly they would be based on his very helpful exterior perspective on their way down, and provided, "A little to the left, we'd be right above the middle point."

Sounded as good as any place to start. With a nod, Cayde started down a short perpendicular crossing at the first opportunity. He drew up short of the next passageway at a silent warning from Sundance, pulling Tony closer to the wall until the footsteps of a thankfully preoccupied passenger meandered past them without a glance.

Cayde wasn't watching him go too far, his attention caught up on the wall just across from them as they took cover, and he grinned at Tony, pointing to the sign listing locations and oh-so-helpful arrows.

As Tony realized what Cayde was looking at, he pointed with him enthusiastically, then slid forward to assess their situation. At the very least, they would know their exits now if someone showed up wanting to discuss their behaviour again. Starting with a tap where they were on the map, and dragging his finger around, Tony said, "There's the 'helm'," indicating their current target, closer to the front of the ship than he had guessed, "and there's a 'Captain's quarters'. Maybe she's actually there, sounds more...private." With another thoughtful tap, he added, "There's a 'nurse'. Maybe there have been other victims, and they don't even know it."

"...if she is, do we really wanna walk in there?" Cayde asked, brow arching. "Although if both she and the captain are there, maybe we can try to convince them that there's something of concern going on about the place. ...we just need to not mention that we threw the body off the ship."

Because that was going to go so well. The Exo started looking a bit dubious of the suggestion around that point.

It was possible that some interruption would be tolerated with consideration to the gravity of the situation, vis a vis her imminent murder, but it was difficult to say for certain and Tony spread his hands with a grimace, unable to claim confidently how he would even feel in that situation. It might have depended on how well the private audience was going. What he could say with more confidence was, "I feel like I'm not going to have trouble keeping that one to myself, you know, indefinitely. It's not something that's going to end up on my resume. I'm already blocking it out." It was going to be a delicate operation, he only realized then, convincing someone that a murder had happened, when they didn't have a body or even a name to suggest a person was at least missing. They'd pay for that bridge when they got to it.

Well, not like they hadn't already been operating by the seat of the pants. Cayde drummed his fingers against his arm but he nodded- mum's the word, they'd have no problem in agreeing not to bring up the body.

"Right, let's just get moving again. For all we know, we're getting ourselves worked up over an empty room..." he said as he peeked around the corridor and then started on in the direction the captain's quarters had been listed.

With a direction to move toward and something that was kind of like a plan, Tony moved more confidently and replied with a very innocent smile, "I wouldn't mind getting worked up in an empty room..." The appearance of another aimlessly wandering passenger saved Cayde from any more flirting, though, and reminded Tony that he was sneaking, setting him back into his slightly hunched slithering while they made their way to what this ship called the Captain's quarters.

It was a largely unassuming door, much like the others that dotted down the hall that they had found themselves in, adorned with a golden plaque that was severely overdue for a polish. Or just acceptance that the gold colouring that had flaked off so far was a lost cause. There wasn't a good way to see in, and with a glance up and down the hall to make sure no one else was around to witness the next weird thing he did, Tony pressed his ear to the door to try to listen for any movement. The hum of the ship vibrated through the walls, making this possibly less useful than standing back to listen. "I don't know if there's anyone in there..." he admitted in a whisper.

The tilt of his head suggested the smirk behind the helmet as he glanced over at Tony. Quick on the rebound as usual. It was largely preferred over whatever weird tension had wormed its way between them back in the bathroom- although to be fair, that tension was in the form of one very dead man.

The door was as tacky as everything else around here. Cayde eyed it before holding his hand up to bring Sundance out. "Can we get a confirmation on that, buddy?" he asked as the Ghost decompiled.

Though Tony didn't flinch this time, some of that tension returned as he eyed Sundance warily before she disappeared again to be annoyingly helpful, and he chased her to press against the door again like he could hear what she was doing in there. That was about when someone came marching around the corner, making Tony abruptly swing around and look outrageously casual in the most uncomfortable lean against the door, one hand up like he thought this would be more convincing if he also mimed a cigarette.

Inside the room was as unoccupied as Tony had suspected, and very strangely appointed. It did look exactly like what it purported to be: the Captain's own rooms, and thoroughly lived in, like he did live aboard the glorified casino shuttle, up to the carelessly downturned bed and dripping laundry basket. Not somewhere he might be entertaining guests, most likely. Outside of the mess, the difference in the upkeep from either side of the door was stark; the trinkets and trappings of this room were new and expensive. New enough that there were several boxes of packaging waiting to be disposed of yet.

While Cayde wasn't in as nearly a compromisingly suspicious position as Tony, it still wasn't very easy to adopt a casual air when you had two people hanging about the captain's quarters. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try, arms tucking in to fold across his chest as he leaned his shoulder against the wall, turning his helmeted visage anywhere but towards the door itself. He did his best to try watching whoever it was that came around.

Sundance meanwhile wasn't exactly sure what she was meant to check in here other than to make sure that no one else was inside. She swiveled back towards the door, hoping the other two hadn't found more trouble before she drifted around to look for anything interesting or unusual. She wasn't much impressed. The notable difference in and out was definitely something to take note of though. Her shell twitched as she floated on over to inspect the boxes sitting there.

The boxes themselves didn't seem to be remarkable. They were clearly deliveries, addressed to the Captain Tilbert Boatwright, on the ship, and from all different sources that suggested different clothing craftsmen, art dealers, and grocers. In a few of them, there did appear to be more items due for disposal; old, threadbare shirts and chipped mugs.

Outside, the passenger took note of the weird shift in energy, slowing his march to slink more carefully with as much distance as he could manage between himself and the very casual men, trying not to look directly at them. Tony wasn't quite so subtle at watching him go, so his gaze was still on the softly stepping man's back when a voice from the same corner stuttered, "Y--you there!" Another footman, that didn't seem to know what to do next after pointing accusingly at the pair from the security of his corner as Tony startled to look back at him. "Stay where you are, please!"

Someone was clearly doing a lot of shopping and not enough upkeep. Sundance wasn't sure what to make of it. She turned about to inspect the rest of the room, maybe a desk for writing samples? It wasn't like she had much to go on when the original reason the two outside had come over here was to find someone, after all, but her findings so far were nevertheless, curious. She pauses when she hears the muffled voices from beyond the door. Uh-oh, she better make this quick.

Cayde managed not to jump, turning his head towards the footman before pointing at himself with an obvious question hanging in the air. Weren't they already doing that, technically? "And then what?" he asked.

There was a desk, mostly used for gathering more packages, like a set of Triple Triad cards and some sports team memorabilia. Among them were some notes, the writing on them tight and neat, that mostly seemed to be records of work hours and schedule adjustments.

"Security is...on its way," the footman reported, hands up like he was placating wild animals, and not looking entirely sure about this declaration with a worried glance over his shoulder. Tony's gaze slid slowly back toward Cayde, mouth pinched dubiously. It wasn't like the footman had alerted anyone.

Cayde gave maybe the tiniest incline of his head in Tony's direction. He remained where he was by the wall, seemingly at ease even as he eyed the footman, though he straightened a little as though hearing about security coming was news indeed. "Yeah? What happened?" he asked. "There something going on that we should know about?"

Tony would feel a little bump behind him as Sundance made her exit from the room behind the best available cover.

The footman was severely out of his depth, flustered by Cayde's nonchalance and trying for another meaningful point to make his rebuttal. Meanwhile, hanging around to feel this one out was ratcheting tension up Tony's spine, until he squeaked as the Ghost reappeared, and swung around wildly to snatch her out of the air like this would diffuse any of the tension. He might have snatched Cayde, too, to haul them all off and back into the corridors to disappear for another five minutes, suggesting between grit teeth, "If there's some danger here, we should probably go...," not nearly as capable in his performance as Cayde. Any hauling was a beat too late, though, as the men from the hall upstairs came thundering around the corner, arms flung out and already panting from their rush to the scene. One of them had a big stick now.

The key was not to let guilt cling to you. It was easy in this case since Cayde knew they hadn't done anything wrong, but Tony wasn't helping too well to sell it. Not that he could blame him; they had no alibis and were seen doing something suspicious. Throwing a body overboard had definitely not done them any favors.

Cayde stood away from the wall as Tony tensed up, dropping a hand over his shoulder, giving him a pat as he tilted his head meaningfully at the footman with an assumed 'look.'

"You're getting him all worked up, see? This was supposed to be relaxing," he sighed. The sound of reinforcements was however cause enough for concern, and Cayde quickly gave a flick of his hand at Sundance, a signal for her to make herself scarce, leaving Tony with just a brief shimmer of light wafting past his fingers.

Cayde looked to Tony then. Run?

Run. The decision had really already been made for them, as these security men charged forward, not about to let them break another window to their escape. Tony clutched at the empty air where Sundance was supposed to be, then made that grab at Cayde as his answer; they were running, if Tony had to drag Cayde along behind him. The nearest window to escape out of was through the door, in the Captain's quarters. The alternative might have been a fight, and they had already escalated from throwing the body overboard to property damage. Tony didn't want to add grievous bodily harm to the list when, as far as they knew, there wasn't even another impending murder that they were trying to circumvent, just the looming possibility of one.

They were once again presented with unhappy options and Cayde really didn't want to add to their imaginary criminal record. He gave an exasperated gesture at the armed (?) men, then promptly threw a shoulder against the door behind him and Tony.

It gave much too easily, which he was kind of hoping for as he grabbed Tony's arm in turn to propel them inside, quickly looking for something to wedge against the door to give them some time. "-whoa," he instead said, momentarily distracted by the state of everything else.

This felt like the opposite of running to Tony, who nonetheless reacted rapidly to brace himself against the door at the men that slammed themselves against it shortly thereafter, then flailed a hand out for the chair tucked against the desk to help wedge it against further intrusion. The state of the room otherwise was much less interesting to Tony than his impending arrest, convinced that this was the sort of society that would hang them, or maybe tar and feather them, while a murderer walked free to do it again, and maybe he was panicking a little bit.

Despite his wide eyes, he pointed past the bed, declaring, "Helm," then to the opposite wall to announce, "Cabin A." Up and down he was less sure, glancing and trying to make a calculation based on the illustration of the ship that made the map, and landed on, "Dining room?" for under their feet. It was big enough, the odds were good.

At least Cayde was quick to pull his focus back, grabbing the chair to jam it against the door's handle. He looked at the walls as Tony began pointing out locations before his head dipped to look towards the floor. How far? He hesitated.

"Won't be able to sink us both through," he said with a shake of his head. Ghost-stepping didn't work with passengers. He jabbed a thumb towards the window. "We'll have to take the outside route again." But at least they wouldn't have to throw themselves out of it. Cayde's gaze bounced back towards the door at another thump. Well, hopefully, anyway.

The rattling and banging at the door had Tony flinching away from it, hands up like he might be about to surrender again. As much as he had complained, though, the suggestion that they were going back outside had him raising his eyebrows, then heading for the window already without negotiating the risks. "One window is a lot less damage than breaking through the wall," he reasoned very graciously, only to have to acknowledge after some more rattling, "Three windows."

Cayde eyed the door and the chair, uncertain of just how long it would hold. He'd try moving the desk but it seemed a better idea just to be gone. He waved Tony on, stepping that way himself as he continued to look over his shoulder.

"It wouldn't have been too much trouble if these things were made to be opened," he said, peering at the thing for latches of some kind. If he had to resort to breaking the thing open like the other one, he wouldn't hesitate.

Most people would think opening a window at this altitude was negligent, perhaps dangerous, and they weren't in the position the last two times to diligently navigate any latching system, so Tony shot Cayde a sidelong look for what appeared to be an earnest search for getting some fresh air.

Not that it was a terrible idea.

Tony rapidly went from looking dubious, to focused as he swung around at the desk again and shoved the games and trinkets aside, searching for anything actually useful. There was a letter opener, and heavier-handled scissors for all of those packages the Captain was handling, which Tony snatched to jam into the window frame and hammer quickly until the seal broke. The pane of glass tipped into the room and had to be quickly braced, just as the battering at the door abruptly stopped. It was the whistling of the wind outside now that made it hard to hear, and made Tony squint at Cayde as he tried to listen to what sounded like a robust discussion on the other side of the door. They were deciding what to do about them.

Cayde was thankfully prepared, easing the glass down to the side and happy to be spared another sharp mess. He caught Tony's squint before glancing towards the door.

"...this is getting old real fast," he grumbled, turning towards the window to evaluate their exit options. "I'm half tempted to just find a place to duck out of sight until we touch down." He pulled himself back in, looking to Tony.

"We still planning on crashing the dining room? There's a ledge out here, and a ladder just a ways along the side." For emergencies or maintenance, he figured.

Laying low did sound much nicer than whatever it was they were doing now, but Tony's slow nod became a resolute shake of his head. "We let this boat touch the ground before we catch this guy, he's going to burn rubber, and they're not even going to be looking for him to stop him from hurting anyone else. They're going to be looking for the idiots with the frog costume." So maybe it was well passed time they gave up trying, and failing, to keep the peace in the investigation, and not have any reservations about using the dining room's most unconventional entrance. Tony leaned out to spy the ledge as well, then didn't wait for any further instructions before he was climbing back outside the airship.

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