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Post by Manah on Aug 20, 2019 22:52:24 GMT -5
(OOC: Welcome to the game, takewithfood !) An unfortunately fruitless meeting with an old friend of his mother having taken the best of his day, Rory R. Montjoy was returning home left with more questions than answers, as the old man - an octogenarian named Howard Bennet - he had visited was seemingly barely aware of who Imogen even was. Time had apparently taken its toll, and along with it, much of the man's memories and coherence. In the end, he had learned nothing of value, save perhaps an address and the name of one of his mother's former pets, a dog named Rocket... twenty years ago, so he failed to see how that was supposed to be relevant. However, as he was juggling with those thoughts in his mind, he couldn't shake the thought... that he was being followed. |
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Post by takewithfood on Aug 24, 2019 11:19:51 GMT -5
This isn't supposed to be how it works, Rory complains in his thoughts. I'm supposed to be on their trail, not the other way around.
Maintaining his pace on the sidewalk so as not to make it known that he's wise to his pursuer, Rory nonetheless stuffs his hands in his pockets and rolls his shoulders forward, almost hugging himself for comfort. He wasn't cold, but the idea of being watched and followed made him feel somewhat naked and sent a shiver up his spine.
Still, even if it isn't how he envisioned the investigation into his mother's death going, it's at least something. It's contact with the enemy, or whoever they are. He isn't going mad, and he isn't wasting his time and money and effort. This is real. Something bigger is going on. A conspiracy. Very likely of supernatural origin, too.
Well, that last part is especially hard to prove. Being followed is admittedly a fairly natural occurrence, unsettling though it may be. But he was right about some of it, and is still willing to wager he's right about the rest.
He waits his turn at a crosswalk, fighting the urge to look over his shoulder. Then he crosses when it is his turn, and approaches his parked Mercedes, unlocking it from a distance with the keys in his pocket. As he approaches driver's side door, he pretends to drop his keys as an excuse to crouch and pick them up - only then does he spare a look behind him via the side-view mirror...
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Post by Manah on Aug 24, 2019 21:45:13 GMT -5
While Rory successfully picked the keys up, he almost lost his balance doing so... causing his efforts to discreetly catch a glimpse of whoever was following him to fail. He could still hear the steps drawing closer clearly, however.
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Post by takewithfood on Aug 25, 2019 8:23:11 GMT -5
Instincts tell Rory to unlock his car, get in, and speed away. That would be the safe thing to do, the smart thing to do, but safe and smart will only get him so far. He becomes aware of the weight of the stun gun in his pocket, and the feel of his heavy gentleman's cane - and the blade concealed within it - gives him confidence.
And so he stands and collects himself, then turns to face his pursuer. He restrains the fear from his expression and carries himself with poise. If he is to be murdered on the streets to cover up a supernatural conspiracy, then he shall at least die with some dignity.
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Post by Manah on Sept 6, 2019 8:02:06 GMT -5
The steps stopped as Rory turned around, only to face a man in his mid forties, wearing a white buttoned shirt, dark grey dress pants, vest and jacket, black dress shoes and a black dust coat. The man had short, wavy brown hair, of a fairly atheltic built for his age, and a seemingly tired, stern expression.
"Good evening, Mr. Montjoy. There is no need to be afraid. I asssure you... I want nothing but the best for you", he began, remaining a good 20 feet away.
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Post by takewithfood on Sept 10, 2019 8:28:20 GMT -5
Rory tries to act natural, and quells his fears by reminding himself that things have a way of working out in the end - even this mess. He rests his cane in front of him, both hands folded neatly over its handle.
"I'm afraid that is a might bit difficult to believe coming from a stranger following me on the street," he offers, though he stands his ground, his curiosity slightly outweighing his fear. A glance at the man's feet suggests he wants him to keep his distance for now. "How do you know me?"
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Post by Manah on Sept 18, 2019 18:11:34 GMT -5
"All friends are strangers until you meet them, Mr. Montjoy", the man pointed out, smiling mildly. "But then again, so are enemies, so I suppose I can't blame you for being suspicious", he admitted.
"I represent a certain organization, which itself serves a higher authority. We have been watching you for a while now, for we knew your mother, and the forces she played with. I imagine you've begun piecing it together, haven't you? ...That she lied to you. That she kept so many things hidden from you, her very own son. That she wasn't who she appeared to be. But... we know who she truly was. We know why she lied, and what the truth is", he said, lighting a cigarette, and taking it to his mouth.
He smirked. "...We fear that as you uncover that truth using the traces she might have left behind, you might be tempted to follow in her footsteps. We believe it would be best if you learned of it from a more... reliable, more benevolent source, so you might be allowed to make the right call."
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Post by takewithfood on Sept 23, 2019 21:54:13 GMT -5
Rory's eyes narrow as he listens to the man. He can hardly believe his ears. A small, tense smile creeps into his expression.
"Who put you up to this? Hunter? No, my money is on Theresa," he wagers. After all his research and investigation into the supernatural, to have a total stranger dangle the truth in front of him like this - well, it was too good to be true. More than likely a prank pulled by one of his friends - or former friends; he could never be too sure how they really felt about him anymore.
Still, this didn't seem like the sort of joke they would pull. Sure, they liked to tease him, call him a crack pot behind his back, but this was all a little elaborate and childish for their tastes. The uncertainty shows in his eyes.
"How do I know you are who you say you are?"
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Post by Manah on Sept 26, 2019 21:04:57 GMT -5
(OOC: More info on those potential friends would be nice, if you so please. I might be able to use them as NPCs.)
The man merely smirked. "I haven't said yet who I am, Mr. Montjoy. But since I have your attention... my name is Harry Balridge. You won't find much on the public records. But you're a smart young man. Look this up", he said, showing a tatoo on his forearm. A red cross with a few Latin words: Sigiillum Militum Xpisti, or 'Seal of the Soldiers of Christ'.
"Here's my card... should you be interested in accepting what we have to offer you. Take care, Mr. Montjoy", he said, handing him his card and turning to walk away.
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Post by takewithfood on Oct 1, 2019 7:53:42 GMT -5
Harry Balridge. What an unfortunate name, Rory decides as he searches his mind for any recognition. He accepts the man's card somewhat warily, almost as though it might bite him. "Well, I-I do appreciate the offer," good manners force him to reply. "Do take care..." he trails off as the man leaves. Baffled by this encounter, but excited to have a new lead to follow. Examining the card briefly, he slips it into his breast pocket and climbs into his car. The diamond white Mercedes is the picture of luxury, a top-of-the-line full-sized luxury sedan pampered with every imaginable feature, yet Rory hardly notices; this is simply normal to him. As he pulls out into the road, selects the address to his flat in the city as his GPS destination, and lets the level 3 automated driving system take over, he scrutinizes the man's card. OOC: I have some vague ideas of who Rory's friends are; I can write up profiles if you like, but of course feel free to modify anything.
Is Rory's Knowledge 3 enough to recognize the Knights Templar logo and motto, or should I roll? |
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Post by takewithfood on Oct 17, 2019 10:01:17 GMT -5
Perplexed, Rory heads straight home to his flat to conduct some research. He's certain he's seen this symbol before in his notes, and feels eager to add another piece to the puzzle; a corner piece, perhaps. He takes over control of his car's steering from the AI as he nears home. Ordinarily he would drive around the block a couple times to try to evade tails - something he'd seen in a movie once - but it hardly seemed to matter now that they obviously knew who he was. Whoever they were... Once he is parked, he heads up to his unit, pressing his thumb onto a scanner he had installed on his door as part of an upgraded security system. A key fob and a plain deadbolt also bar entrance; overkill, maybe, but one can't be too sure when investigating a possibly supernatural conspiracy, no? The flat itself is old, but charming: Full kitchen, elegant sitting room, one bath with a clawfoot copper tub, a master bedroom with a shallow balcony and a view, and a study he had long since converted into his war room, so to speak. Whereas every other part of the flat was neat, tidy, and decorated with old world charm, the study was cluttered with cardboard legal boxes of files, haphazard stacks of books, and propped-up white boards and cork boards plastered with notes, pictures of strange symbols, and blurry photos of people of interest. He also had three laptops setup on an old desk amid an embarrassing collection of used dishes. It was a glaring crack in his facade of sanity, something he had learned to hide from even his closest friends (none of which supported his investigation any more; some, like Hunter and Theresa, had even taking to mocking him). Rory leans his cane in one corner and peers out the window out of habit; then he finds a home for the man's business card on his cork board, and begins searching his notes for the identity of that symbol which was at the tip of his tongue... OOC: Sorry for the late reply! It's been a madhouse over here, but my time is starting to free up again. <3
I gather I can attempt another roll to identify the symbol, and anything else he can recall about it? |
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Post by Manah on Feb 5, 2020 0:42:31 GMT -5
It took him a mere fifteen minutes of research and mild digging to get the obvious out of the way. The symbol was fairly easy to find, as it turned out. It was once used by the Order of Solomon's Temple, more commonly known as the Knight Templars. But that made little sense, as that order had been permanently suppressed more than seven centuries ago. Right?
Further research led him deeper into both the darker corners of the Internet, and what few documents he could discover on the matter. From what he could piece up thanks to his research, the Knight Templars had either never truly disappeared, or had been reformed further down the line, and had gone from a very visible army and order to a secretive, mysterious organization acting in the shadows of History. Operating under various names including the Soldiers of Christ, the Solomonic Order, and the Order of Christ, the Knight Templars had evolved over the years into a group dedicated to the discovery, exposure, and destruction of threats deemed supernatural in nature.
In other words... from what he could see, if his research was to be believed, the Knight Templars were fanatical, religious monster hunters.
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