revivalproject | Murder on the Gold Saucer Express

Entry tags:

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?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Not long after Tony began his descent did Cayde follow along. Hopefully the crewmen wouldn't think they'd be so bold as to make an appearance in the dining hall.

...hopefully it was the dining room that they were headed for, although Cayde was beginning to anticipate that there'd be a problem in getting inside if the windows were going to once again be sealed. Really, what did you do when you needed emergency exits?

"What's it lookin' like down there, boss?" he called down to Tony.

It definitely was the dining room, which Tony found as he swung over to peer into the window and made direct eye contact with a woman who thought she had found a lovely spot to enjoy the view. Everyone else turned as her mouth opened wide, and her glass fell out of her hand, though from out here the commotion was a silent play.

"Terrible," Tony reported, as he tried for a disarming smile and wave to this new audience. "How are we getting in?"

"Oh, so about the usual for here, then."

Cayde got a little closer although he couldn't quite get as clear a glimpse of inside as Tony was. "Does it look like it opens? Would they open it for us if it did? Or is there a hatch or something on this dumb ship- you'd think they'd have a way in if they have emergency access, right???" Although part of him had this mad urge to just break another window.

He looked around from where he was, trying to see if there were any visible access points- "Ventilation?" he voiced, pointing at a nearby panel that was barely hanging on its screws, vibrating against the buffeting winds.

The rest of this sneaking around spy stuff was already making Tony feel wildly underprepared, and he considered the panel with first a blank resignation, then a scrunch of his nose up at Cayde so he knew how Tony felt about crawling around in ducts before they committed. He had to lean precariously far away from the ladder, reaching out toward the vent, and making the people inside the dining room that he had shocked press their noses flat to the glass to try to see where he had gone. He could reach one rattling corner, blindly flicking the screw the rest of the way loose to send it sailing away, to work his fingers under the metal and wrench it the rest of the way off, just about flinging himself clear with it as it splintered free from the side of the ship.

Tony would have to imagine the grin that Cayde was throwing back at him. He was nearly rewarded with a hunk of sheet metal to the face as it flew past Tony and got caught in an updraft, jerking his head back as it sliced past his shoulder.

And yet that was the relatively easy part, seeing as now they had to probably fling themselves at the opening to reach it. The Exo pointed at the vent and then at Tony and then himself before gesturing in an upwards motion- should he give him a boost?

That was probably a bad idea, about as bad as whipping a chunk of metal at Cayde, which Tony did very graciously grimace and widen his eyes in what was kind of like an apology for. He looked dubious about what Cayde was likely to do to him next, though that didn't stop him from taking one last glance at the vent, then reaching an arm up for Cayde to take without any further argument.

Shifting more to the side of the ladder facing the hole, Cayde held his hand out to grasp Tony's, and he looked between him and the hole itself as he judged the distance. It wasn't too far, but there were a few factors that came into play to make it tricky to pull off on your own if you didn't have a few tricks up your own sleeves.

"On three," he said, fingers tightening slightly in preparation, eyes locking on Tony. "One... Two...Three!" He turned his attention towards the vent as he finished the countdown, hoisting Tony up as he expected the other to also push off.

"Three!" Tony grit out in unison, and the jump he made was at least better than being thrown out of the window. The bar was very low. He barely had a grip on the whistling vent when he was releasing Cayde's hand, to make a flailing grab in the whip of the wind, kicking like he could swim his way up and into the relative security of the less certain deadly plummet. He was still kicking when he hauled himself up and half way inside, a miserable wiggle to try to work himself into the ship, and out of Cayde's way to make the jump himself while Tony tried to figure out what their next best move was now that they were in a loud tube. Hopefully it wasn't to turn back around, because he could only army crawl forward, until their was an ominous creak of the metal, and he was slipping face first onto the kitchen floor whether he liked it or not.

If Cayde still breathed he'd have been holding it right then. As it was he still kept his mouth shut until Tony's feet began to disappear into the opening they'd made, releasing a sigh. One down.

He waited until Tony had disappeared before making his own jump. That wasn't the hard part; hauling yourself into the vent was.

-Although it was kind of strange that the thing kind of angled downwards.

"Ton-eeey?!"

On the bright side, the kitchen was as populated as the offputting offerings in the dining room suggested; empty. There were definitely appliances and tools that suggested at some point, cooking had taken place on this ship, but Tony suspected it hadn't been for a long time now. He wouldn't be entirely surprised if the weird footman brought snacks from home, some time last week.

Less positively, landing on ones face from a reasonable height and into a narrow, unfamiliar corridor made it difficult to move quickly, so Tony was still gathering himself when Cayde announced his descent, and went uff with some resignation as the Exo came crashing down. Still not as bad as falling off of the ship.

Tony dragged himself up out of the pile they made on the floor, feeling much too battered for a cruise, and using the counter to haul himself to his feet and get his bearings. His dragging misery disappeared as he realized they had lucked into this unused area, and he could launch himself toward the door adjoining the dining room, where he could peek through the dusty window to the excited crowd.

"Security's here," he reported as he spotted the men that were chasing them, and their stick. "And your girlfriend," he added, frowning slightly at the elderly woman, who looked very upset.

That could've gone better. Cayde shoved himself up from the ground, blinking as he looked around, half-expecting someone to be on them for arrest and surprised to find that they had the place to themselves. Weird.

He dusted himself as he wandered over to join Tony, peering out the door. "She had eyes on you first," he snorted, scanning the rest of the onlookers. "How about Lady Snitch? You see her? ...or the one we were looking for? Hedda or something, wasn't it?"

"Oh, they're definitely here," Tony mumbled, just as they erupted into another one of their, he had to assume, regular fights. Two women in the middle of the room were suddenly clearing a circle around them as they raised their voices, what insults they had to throw at each other muffled by the door and clearly toxic enough that no one else wanted to be too close. This did serve to distract the crewmen who thought they were there to keep the peace from a couple of idiots who kept climbing all over the ship, and who handled this problem just as effectively; the arguing women didn't even hear them.

Cayde fingered his chin as he tried to catch anything of what they were yelling about. If it wasn't already likely dangerous to go out there, getting involved in that would probably be just as volatile, at least given the reactions from the people gathered there.

"...sooooo, should we 'help' the ladies sort things out? Things are getting ugly out there, but I also don't think I want to have all that redirected at us. On the other hand, this is kinda why we came down here, and maybe us getting involved with throw everyone else off enough for us to try getting things sorted. -or we can act like we were security all along and point at the ladies like we're supposed to be there, just tossing that out there."

"If you're right about 'Lady Snitch', we might be watching the next murder," Tony pointed out. If she wasn't the murderer, though, they might be wasting this spectacular distraction that she was making for them to slip away from their pursuers and get back to their investigation. This new role that Cayde suggested made Tony snort with surprise, head already tilted to consider how they'd approach the act, and glancing around for what could pass as a believable badge of some official entity if they flashed it fast enough. "'We're here investigating a string of murders' etcetera, etcetera?" he said.

Tony received a muffled snap-point at that. "Yes. We keep 'em on their toes, make it look like we belong there to keep them off their balance while we watch for anyone who might be getting more antsy than reasonable."

Cayde took a quick glance back out the door. "But if we're doing this we better do this now if the lady does start getting violent."

With a short nod, Tony snatched a gaudy napkin from a dusty stack, neglected on the counter, daubed with a silver foil that only made the place more miserable, but maybe would have the intended effect if he fit it into his hand properly. "And if that doesn't work, there's more windows," he said, not sounding enthusiastic about a third venture outside, just identifying an unavoidable pattern.

The volume was incredible when he pushed open the door, a move which hardly garnered any notice in the commotion as one of the women was screaming, "You've only ever thought about yourself, you make the world a worse place!" The tone almost had Tony backing away, throwing a grimace at Cayde before rallying and pushing his way through the crowd toward the commotion. "Excuse me! We'll deal with this, thank you! Everyone back away, please, for your safety!"

"Noted," Cayde said, sweeping out after Tony and somehow managing not to visibly flinch as the sound went up several decibels. He gave a sharp upwards jerk of his chin as Tony glanced back, and once the man began to speak, he threw his own hands outwards in a halting gesture to hopefully forestall any objections.

"Coming through, 'scuse us. I'm sure you don't want to get involved in this anyway, I mean, if I had a choice I wouldn't either but that's not what they're paying us for," he said with a heavy sigh. He trailed after Tony, keeping an eye on the security as they made their way towards the two women.

It was possible they should have discussed this more before committing to it. Which one was supposed to be the good cop and the bad cop? That was how this worked, right? They both sounded kind of polite so far, so as Tony worked his way out of the crowd and into the blast zone, he panicked and demanded, "Everyone shut up." Which was effective, getting both women and the collection of increasingly harried crewmen to swing around on him, but did feel lamely unadorned as they continued to stare at him and Tony had to try to come up with some other mean thing to say. What he did was flash the silvery thing tucked in his palm, then push it away back into his pocket before anyone could think too hard about it. "Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division," he announced, which was maybe kind of mean sounding, in itself. They probably didn't have one of those on this planet, but hopefully the pageantry of it was convincing enough.

Planning usually consisted of Cayde trusting whoever he was with to do what they do best, and himself to improvise. Although in this case maybe a little bit of discussion might've been worthwhile, but too late now. Even Cayde jumped a little at that demand, but he was quick to pick back up on things.

"He hasn't had his coffee today and this whole undercover thing has really not been working out," he said in aside to whomever was nearest before shrugging and turning back to Tony. Strategic Homeland Inter... Oh!

Stepping past Tony, Cayde homed in on the two women. "Just the people we've been trying to pin down. But just what is all this about?" Vague, imperious gesturing inserted here.

Right, exactly, they were in control here and the ones who would be asking all of the questions, despite one of the crewmen starting to raise a hand, mouth open to intervene in this bizarre new development. Cayde's gesturing effectively cut him off, and Tony doubled down with his arms crossed over his chest and a pointed glare, making him lag a little when it came to actually listening to the answer Cayde was getting.

"This has nothing to do with you!" the venomous woman was not so intimidated.

Hedda did look like she might have been cowed, but her nemesis' energy was bolstering, and after a moment she joined in, "Mind your own business!"

This was, apparently, unacceptable, and the other woman was back on her, growling, "You always have to say something, you vampire! Don't care about anyone but yourself!"

"IN case you didn't figure from the preamble, this is our business," Cayde rallied on, stopping himself just short of pointing in the other woman's face. "Now, I'll need names," he said as he pulled out a notepad and pen from a belt pouch, flipping through it for a blank page.

"...'calling subject B a vampire'..." That seemed like a petty thing to notate but he wanted them to realize he wasn't going to ignore them, and so long as it looked like they were meaning to be there and not intent on escaping, he hoped it would further help to sell whatever this crazy new act of theirs was.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Murder on the Gold Saucer Express

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject