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Miles Cross
A Livejournal "Changeling: The Lost" Game
Start of November, early evening outside of Town 
3rd-Nov-2007 09:04 am
Thomas bustles about his small house, trying to make sure everything is as perfect as can be for Fiona's arrival. Ah, there is nothing like a young man who is desperate to impress a young girl when it comes to housecleaning. The books have been stacked in neater piles than previously. With more floor room available, Thomas has been able to shift the furniture to one side of the livingroom and place a small table with two dinner chairs before the fireplace. The fireplace itself has a small fire blazing within, adding a cozy warmth. From the kitchenette comes the smells of garlic and basil, tomato sauce and bread.
3rd-Nov-2007 02:19 pm (UTC)
The time when Fiona is to arrive comes and goes without sign of Fiona. More time passes, and more, until it is not only past the point where idle speculation on Fiona's lateness is perhaps a passing fancy, but to the point where Fiona's lateness is worrisome, especially as she was looking forward to coming over.
3rd-Nov-2007 11:17 pm (UTC)
Thomas watches the clock, his anxiety growing.

**Where the heck is she?? Her work place would have closed a while ago... Maybe she got held up at home?**

Without daring to think of all the things that could have gone wrong, and trying to focus on all the logical explanations, Thomas dials Fiona's home number.

"Come on, come on, come on..."
4th-Nov-2007 03:34 am (UTC)
The phone rings four times, then Fiona's voice says, "Hi this is Fiona. I can't come to the phone right now, so leave a message after the tone." A moment later the beep for the answering machine is heard over the phone.
4th-Nov-2007 12:22 pm (UTC)
"Hello? Fiona? It's Thomas. Are you there? Pick up if you're there..."
4th-Nov-2007 07:49 pm (UTC)
Fiona doesn't pick up.
5th-Nov-2007 06:49 am (UTC)
**Crap. Crap, crap, crap!**

Thomas bites his lip and tries dialing her brother's number. **And if he doesn't know, I'm REALLY going to be freaking out...**
5th-Nov-2007 12:21 pm (UTC)
The cell phone number rings a number of times until it finally goes to voicemail. the voice only gives the phone number, but it sounds enough like Fiona to conclude it is her brother's phone.
5th-Nov-2007 12:49 pm (UTC)
"Shit! Pol, it's Thomas. Fiona was supposed to show up at my place several hours ago, and she's still not here. If you know what's going on, call me back, okay? Thanks! The number's..." Thomas rattles off the number and hangs up.

"First things first, kiddo," he remebers the voice of his father, "No point in wishing you had stocked up on whiskey after the party is already over."

Thomas forces himself to calm down and think. It doesn't take long for him to come to a decision. He walks at a brisk pace to the kitchen and kills the stove and oven, taking the sauce pot off and moving it to a secondary burner. From there he moves to the fireplace, dowsing the fire with the bucket of sand kept on hand for just such an purpose. Thomas then puts the hearth screen back into place.

Then it's the voice of Big Ben, the man who taught him how to defend himself. "Be prepared. If yer goin' into an unknown situation, be sure you can protect yourself." While Thomas doesn't rationally expect any sort of violence, his mind races with all sort of horrid things that might have happened to Fiona.

Thomas didn't ride out with his family very often, but he still kept his gear: engineer boots, leather jacket, riding gloves. On a large, he also grabs his dark blue helmet. Looking around for something to defend himself with, he grabs the only thing he might use as a weapon: the iron poker from the fireplace. **Damn, I wish I kept my bike!**

Armed and armoured as best as he might be, he grabs his keys and cell phone and heads towards the door. Locking it behind him, he gets into and starts up his van to retrace the most likely routes Fiona might have taken...
5th-Nov-2007 11:43 pm (UTC)
After they had met at Moonshadows, Fiona had taken Thomas for a walk about town, ending at her place. Thomas has no trouble driving most of the route in his van, though he doesn't spot Fiona in town.

Near the of their walk, Fiona had taken a shortcut from Milescross, along a well worn trail through stretch of woods, onto and across the Hawthorne Academey grounds, then out the other side via a driveway and down a short bit of road to her place. So once Thomas reaches the edge of town, he can either park the van and follow the route through the woods he walked with Fiona, or stay on the road and go around (or even through) the Hawthorn Academy grounds and pick up the route from there.
6th-Nov-2007 06:47 am (UTC)
It doesn't take long to reason it out. **The weather wasn't too cold today, and she would have left when there was still some daylight. She took the shortcut before, so there's no real reason she wouldn't do so again.**

Thomas pulls off to the side of the road. He tucks a small rag into the driver's window to make it look as if it broke down, and then he hops out with poker in hand. **Too dark for the helmet. I wouldn't be able to see anything with the faceplate down. Or hear anything. Wish I had a flashlight.** Leaving his headgear in the van, he locks the door and starts to trudge down the trail. The old poker is cold in his hands, but its weight provides him with an odd comfort. He proceeds at a brisk pace, looking side to side and straining to see as far ahead as possible.

**If anyone's hurt her...**
6th-Nov-2007 12:23 pm (UTC)
The path is isn't straight, though it seems to be the shortest route between the edge of town and the Hawthorne Academy grounds. It threads its way between a number of large rocks, the route cutting the loop of road that sticks to more hospitable grounds.

As Thomas makes his way down the path, he heasrs a voice ahead.
6th-Nov-2007 12:26 pm (UTC)
"Do you think the little box will sing again Tom? I used to have a box that mad music. It had things that you stuck in your ears."
6th-Nov-2007 12:28 pm (UTC)
There's a rustling noise ahead, and what sounds like something sizeable scampering off.
6th-Nov-2007 12:31 pm (UTC)
"Tom!? Tom! Aw, this is no fun, I'm gonna go home."

Thomas can hear noises that sound like some coming toward him on the path.
6th-Nov-2007 12:32 pm (UTC)
Thomas stands his ground on the trail, waiting to see what's coming. He levers the poker across his shoulder.
6th-Nov-2007 12:38 pm (UTC)
Thomas gets an uneasy feeling, rather like when a large fierce-looking dog with uncertain intentions approaches.
6th-Nov-2007 12:41 pm (UTC)
A scruffy-looking man in his twenties, unshaven and with rusty-red hair rounds a curve of the path. He's holding a cell phone, which he looks at as he walks. He doesn't seem to have noticed Thomas yet.
6th-Nov-2007 12:43 pm (UTC)
**Aw, crap.** The feeling is all too familiar. Gritting his teeth, the young man remains where he is, poker at the ready.

**Time to face some fears...**

"Hey! You!"
6th-Nov-2007 11:23 pm (UTC)
The man stops and looks at Thomas. After a moment he asks, "Is this your music box? Can you make it sing for me? Please?"
7th-Nov-2007 06:39 am (UTC)
Thomas stares at him. **It's that guy from... from... no, wait, he was with that coffee shop girl! Oh great, freakier and freakier.** He looks at the man's hands to see what he's holding.

"Music box? What, that cell phone? Isn't it yours?" He edges closer cautiously, his left hand extended out. The poker, for all that it seemingly rests easy on his shoulder, is gripped tightly by his right hand, ready to swing if need be.
7th-Nov-2007 12:30 pm (UTC)
"Cell phone?" The man looks at the 'box' for a moment. This close, Thomas can see that there are some rips in the mans clothing. The man reaches out and drops the 'box' into Thomas's outstretched hand. It is a closed cell phone, with a bit of dirt on it.

"I remember those. They made music too. And you could talk to people." The man sounds wistful.
7th-Nov-2007 12:53 pm (UTC)
**Aaaaaaaand he's a lunatic. Great.**

Thomas turns the mobile over in his hands to get a better look at it, checking through the call history and phone info menus.
7th-Nov-2007 11:17 pm (UTC)
The last incoming call is listed as "Thomas" in the call list, and bit more investigating reveals not only the time corresponds to when Thomas called Pol, but the number calling the cell phone is Thomas's own.

Checking through the call list will reveal Fiona's phone number, Fiona's work phone and among others entries, separate entries for "mom" and "dad."
7th-Nov-2007 11:18 pm (UTC)
7th-Nov-2007 11:20 pm (UTC)
The man watches as Thomas checks out the phone.
8th-Nov-2007 12:26 pm (UTC)
Thomas stares at the phone in shock. When he finally looks up at the man, his eyes have a dead look to them.

"Where did you find this?" he asks flatly.
9th-Nov-2007 12:00 am (UTC)
The man looks uncertainly at Thomas. "Inside the hedge. I brought it back and it sang when I was waiting for Tom."
9th-Nov-2007 12:53 am (UTC)
The bespectled young man grips the phone in his left hand, the right flexing his grip around the handle of the poker. The black leather of his padded riding gloves creak ominously. He fight to keep his temper, from lashing out in illogical rage.

"Look. My girlfriend is missing. And I can't find her brother, either." Forcing himself to stay rational, he keeps his voice as expressionless as possible. He holds up the phone. "This is his phone. Can you show me where this hedge is? And who's Tom?"

**Tom. God, I hate being called Tom.**
9th-Nov-2007 12:37 pm (UTC)
"Tom is my friend. I share a bagle with him every day, and he lets me pet him," says the man.

"If that is his phone, then they must be in the hedge..." says the man slowly. The man looks straight at Thomas. "The hedge is a bad place.. You shouldn't go in there." The man sighs and his shoulders sag. "I should go look for them."
9th-Nov-2007 12:44 pm (UTC)
Thomas gives a thin smile. "I'm going with you."
10th-Nov-2007 04:38 pm (UTC)
The man seems undecided, then finally nods. "Okay. It is a bad, bad place to take you, but if it was my friends, I would want to go." the man frowns, thinking. "There are bad things in there. Try not to be scared. Don't leave the path."

The man turns and starts off in the direction he just came from, then stops and turns around to face Thomas. "I'll look different. If you run away, I can't help you. And I'm a vegetarian now." Then man brightens. "I'm Dante," he says and offers Thomas his hand.
11th-Nov-2007 02:14 pm (UTC)
**Dammit. There's still something not right about this guy. I mean, how can a hedge be all that bad? And what does he mean, he'll look different?? Screw it. If Fiona's in trouble...**

Dressed in his riding leathers again after close to a year, Thomas falls back into family habits. "Thomas. Call me Bookchild."

He shifts the iron poker from his right hand to his left, and he graps Dante's offered hand in a firm grip.
12th-Nov-2007 01:51 pm (UTC)
"Bookchild," repeats Dante, shaking Thomas's hand with a naturally firm grip.

"We should go," he says thaen starts back along the path.

((OOC: continues here.))
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