Post by astalakio on Apr 13, 2010 10:07:35 GMT -7
Timeframe: Morning, around 6:30
Date: April 13th
Place: A large, haunted house on the coast of England
Status: Very open
They were always surprised when they opened their front doors to find Johann stood there. Of course they were. The man was a mist in a rubber suit with what might just be an overglorified fishbowl for a head. That said, Johann Krauss couldn't help but wonder just what they were expecting from an organisation named the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense.
"Oh, you must be from the, er, Bureau, then."
They always said that too.
"Ja. I am Agent Johann Krauss. A pleasure to meet you." He replied chirpily and slightly loudly for this early in the morning. He observed the man - middle aged, hair receeding, and still wearing what appeared to be a bathrobe and slippers.
"You came quickly. I wasn't expecting you until this afternoon."
"Well, the Bureau takes the safety of the human populace very seriously. I am here now, and may I enter?"
"What? Oh. Yes, I suppose."
He seemed openly unsure of allowing a strange metal and glass man into his abode, haunted though it might have been.
The door was clanged shut and Johann stood in the main hall of the house. The place was massive, and had the peculiar but not uncommon effect of lonely old houses where it would echo without anything making the original sound. Johann was dimly aware of a distant dripping noise. Other than this, the place was silent.
"So, er," The silence was shattered as the dressrobe man came up behind Johann. "The ghosts are in the, em, dining hall."
"Ghosts?" Johann turned to face him. Well, it's hard to 'face' someone when you don't have a face, but he definitely turned.
"Well yes, isn't that why you're here?" The man asked, confused.
"When you called us you told us there was a ghost. Singular. Did you not?" The metal man asked tentatively.
"Oh. Did I? Must of, em, said it wrong. I suppose. It is early, you know?"
Johann just stared at the man for a bit. Again, difficult without eyes but somehow he managed it and the bathrobe man looked uncomfortable after a while.
Johann was about to ask just how many ghosts there were, when he heard another noise. He looked over to the right at another grand door set into a thick stone wall.
His footsteps clunked heavily over the floor as he approached, followed by the bathrobe man who was like a puppy bounding after its master. In the weariest way possible, of course; it was early.
Johann placed a hollow hand on the heavy set doorknob and made to turn it, only to be stopped by the man.
“Oh, no. They hate it when you do that.” He offered. Johann gave him a look (again, tricky without a face), but resigned anyway. He took a step back.
“Very well.” He said, his rolling German accent turning his ‘W’s to ‘V’s. “I shall not go in by the door. If you would be so kind as to wait here, Mister Leeves.”
Mister Bathrobe Leeves looked confused, hesitated, but nodded.
“Where are you going?” He asked.
Johann reached his hand up to a valve on his chest, and with a squeak it was shifted open. Immediately, his spiritual misty form poured like liquid out of his containment suit and into the air, where it paused for a moment in human shape.
“Why, inside, of course.” He replied, before ducking below and slipping under the crack between the floor and the doorway.
He came to a halt inside the room. Johann had been expecting a triplet, maybe a quadruplet of ghosts. He had also expected them perhaps sat about in dusty old armchairs that they might’ve occupied in the past life. That, unfortunately, wasn’t what he received.
His ghostly form looked around at the ghosts that stared back with dead eyes. There must have been somewhere upward of a hundred of them. And all of them in military garb. Never a good sign, Johann reflected, even as a leader ghost took charge.
The leader ghost had been stood at a long, wide table with a team of others, in the middle of this room which seemed to be almost as big as the house itself. It was huge. Plenty of room to accommodate a-hundred-and-something ghosts. Johann made a mental note to take it up with the Bureau: they clearly weren’t filing case briefings properly, or he would have brought a team.
“An enemy!” The ghost wailed, pointing a transparent finger at the Agent. “Fire!”
And with that several dozen ghost-bullets were fired from several hundred ghost-muskets at poor old ghost-Johann, who took it upon himself to dive for cover. Sometimes, as he had previously discovered, the actions of ghosts wouldn’t harm him. He could feel in the air that this wasn’t one of those times. Whilst the bullets made no harm to the beautiful ornaments and displays in the room, they would surely rip into his Ectoplasmic being and do some serious damage.
“Send in the poltergeists!” Cried the same leader ghost, and a row of slightly less-visible spirits picked up whatever was at hand and hurled them swiftly in Johann’s direction. These objects wouldn’t harm him, but were doing catastrophic damage to his cover. He watched with a heavy heart as a aged but pristine grand piano was dented by a flying vase.
Deciding that the situation needed more than a negotiator, as he had originally thought, Johann took his admittedly hasty leave of the room. He slipped easily back through the way he came.
Mister Leeves, waiting on the other side of the door, jumped as Johann suddenly appeared. He had been listening to the transactions going on inside by pressing his ear up against the wood surface of the door.
“Ahem.” Johann began, clearing a throat he didn’t have. “As you no doubt heard, Mister Leeves, the situation is… quite out-of-hand.”
“Well that’s why I called you people.” The human replied, gaining some sort of strength in the face of Johann’s initial failure to sort things out.
“If you will excuse me, shortly.” Johann said, vacuuming back into his suit and walking across the main hall. Reaching the front door they had entered by, he opened it and walked outside onto the grass.
Looking off at the sea that raged frustrated against the nearby coast, he took a large, boxy communications device from his belt and held it to his mouthpiece.
“This is Agent Krauss. The situation here is a lot more desperate than initially described. I will require any backup that can be found in the immediate area.” He said into the box. There was a fuzzy feedback in reply. He clicked the button again.
“I repeat, are there perchance any Agents in the field nearby willing to lend a hand?” He asked.
Date: April 13th
Place: A large, haunted house on the coast of England
Status: Very open
They were always surprised when they opened their front doors to find Johann stood there. Of course they were. The man was a mist in a rubber suit with what might just be an overglorified fishbowl for a head. That said, Johann Krauss couldn't help but wonder just what they were expecting from an organisation named the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense.
"Oh, you must be from the, er, Bureau, then."
They always said that too.
"Ja. I am Agent Johann Krauss. A pleasure to meet you." He replied chirpily and slightly loudly for this early in the morning. He observed the man - middle aged, hair receeding, and still wearing what appeared to be a bathrobe and slippers.
"You came quickly. I wasn't expecting you until this afternoon."
"Well, the Bureau takes the safety of the human populace very seriously. I am here now, and may I enter?"
"What? Oh. Yes, I suppose."
He seemed openly unsure of allowing a strange metal and glass man into his abode, haunted though it might have been.
The door was clanged shut and Johann stood in the main hall of the house. The place was massive, and had the peculiar but not uncommon effect of lonely old houses where it would echo without anything making the original sound. Johann was dimly aware of a distant dripping noise. Other than this, the place was silent.
"So, er," The silence was shattered as the dressrobe man came up behind Johann. "The ghosts are in the, em, dining hall."
"Ghosts?" Johann turned to face him. Well, it's hard to 'face' someone when you don't have a face, but he definitely turned.
"Well yes, isn't that why you're here?" The man asked, confused.
"When you called us you told us there was a ghost. Singular. Did you not?" The metal man asked tentatively.
"Oh. Did I? Must of, em, said it wrong. I suppose. It is early, you know?"
Johann just stared at the man for a bit. Again, difficult without eyes but somehow he managed it and the bathrobe man looked uncomfortable after a while.
Johann was about to ask just how many ghosts there were, when he heard another noise. He looked over to the right at another grand door set into a thick stone wall.
His footsteps clunked heavily over the floor as he approached, followed by the bathrobe man who was like a puppy bounding after its master. In the weariest way possible, of course; it was early.
Johann placed a hollow hand on the heavy set doorknob and made to turn it, only to be stopped by the man.
“Oh, no. They hate it when you do that.” He offered. Johann gave him a look (again, tricky without a face), but resigned anyway. He took a step back.
“Very well.” He said, his rolling German accent turning his ‘W’s to ‘V’s. “I shall not go in by the door. If you would be so kind as to wait here, Mister Leeves.”
Mister Bathrobe Leeves looked confused, hesitated, but nodded.
“Where are you going?” He asked.
Johann reached his hand up to a valve on his chest, and with a squeak it was shifted open. Immediately, his spiritual misty form poured like liquid out of his containment suit and into the air, where it paused for a moment in human shape.
“Why, inside, of course.” He replied, before ducking below and slipping under the crack between the floor and the doorway.
He came to a halt inside the room. Johann had been expecting a triplet, maybe a quadruplet of ghosts. He had also expected them perhaps sat about in dusty old armchairs that they might’ve occupied in the past life. That, unfortunately, wasn’t what he received.
His ghostly form looked around at the ghosts that stared back with dead eyes. There must have been somewhere upward of a hundred of them. And all of them in military garb. Never a good sign, Johann reflected, even as a leader ghost took charge.
The leader ghost had been stood at a long, wide table with a team of others, in the middle of this room which seemed to be almost as big as the house itself. It was huge. Plenty of room to accommodate a-hundred-and-something ghosts. Johann made a mental note to take it up with the Bureau: they clearly weren’t filing case briefings properly, or he would have brought a team.
“An enemy!” The ghost wailed, pointing a transparent finger at the Agent. “Fire!”
And with that several dozen ghost-bullets were fired from several hundred ghost-muskets at poor old ghost-Johann, who took it upon himself to dive for cover. Sometimes, as he had previously discovered, the actions of ghosts wouldn’t harm him. He could feel in the air that this wasn’t one of those times. Whilst the bullets made no harm to the beautiful ornaments and displays in the room, they would surely rip into his Ectoplasmic being and do some serious damage.
“Send in the poltergeists!” Cried the same leader ghost, and a row of slightly less-visible spirits picked up whatever was at hand and hurled them swiftly in Johann’s direction. These objects wouldn’t harm him, but were doing catastrophic damage to his cover. He watched with a heavy heart as a aged but pristine grand piano was dented by a flying vase.
Deciding that the situation needed more than a negotiator, as he had originally thought, Johann took his admittedly hasty leave of the room. He slipped easily back through the way he came.
Mister Leeves, waiting on the other side of the door, jumped as Johann suddenly appeared. He had been listening to the transactions going on inside by pressing his ear up against the wood surface of the door.
“Ahem.” Johann began, clearing a throat he didn’t have. “As you no doubt heard, Mister Leeves, the situation is… quite out-of-hand.”
“Well that’s why I called you people.” The human replied, gaining some sort of strength in the face of Johann’s initial failure to sort things out.
“If you will excuse me, shortly.” Johann said, vacuuming back into his suit and walking across the main hall. Reaching the front door they had entered by, he opened it and walked outside onto the grass.
Looking off at the sea that raged frustrated against the nearby coast, he took a large, boxy communications device from his belt and held it to his mouthpiece.
“This is Agent Krauss. The situation here is a lot more desperate than initially described. I will require any backup that can be found in the immediate area.” He said into the box. There was a fuzzy feedback in reply. He clicked the button again.
“I repeat, are there perchance any Agents in the field nearby willing to lend a hand?” He asked.