3154/Dancing Got Her Nowhere

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Dancing Got Her Nowhere
Date of Scene: 14 November 2017
Location: New York City
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Silk, Shadow




Silk has posed:
    A young woman has gone missing. That, in and of itself, is not an unusual thing in New York City. People go missing everyday. This particular young woman, however, was known to Natasha Crasnton AKA Jen.

    Giovanna, or Gia as she preferred to be called hadn't shown up to the last several meetings of the Capoeira group in Central park. She never missed a meeting before, ever. Even when she had the flu she showed up to support others who were into a martial art that clearly was close to her heart. Missing one meeting might be considered a fluke, but suddenly not showing up to anything? Not answering phone calls from concerned friends? Seemingly disappearing off the face of the Earth all at once? Something, clearly, wasn't right.

Shadow has posed:
     Of course, "Jen" is not supposed to know the home address and work habits of each of her friends; they all know her as another happy-go-lucky dancer, never quite realizing that none of them ever asked her where she lives or what she does for a living. It never occurs to them to ask. Natasha prefers it that way.

    Moreover, the Shadow's network of informants has discovered that this isn't the first such disappearance - and all others were found dead.

This is not acceptable.

    "Jen" begs off the customary post-roda pub visit, claiming a home emergency, then waves at her friends and gets into a cab that pulls up just as she reaches the curb... And again, for some reason no one thinks to wonder when she called that cab or how she timed it -- and no one at all pays any attention as it vanishes into traffic.

    In the back of the cab, "Jen" sighs and runs a hand through her hair, the 'blue dye' fading away before her fingers before addressing the driver. "Once around the park, Benny I've work to do tonight," Natasha orders, and he nods. "You got it, Boss," he replies, barely even looking at the mirror as shadows ripple up and down along Natasha's body...

    Nobody pays much attention to a cab unless they need one. So nobody particularly cares when one briefly slows down near the entrance to Central park before continuing on... And nobody at all notices the brief shimmer in the air as if something exited the cab and vanished into the deepening shadows of the trees.

Silk has posed:
    Gia was the kind of person that everyone liked- and in her case, it was largely deserved. She had a kind word for everyone. Genuine care for the well-being of others, no matter who they were. Her habits were not difficult to trace- she spent her weekends at food kitchens and homeless shelters, her days at her job as a social worker, and her free time simply trying to make the world a better place and really help. Gia lived the concept of being the change she wanted to see in the world. Modest, sweet, and kind to a fault.

    She also happened to be the Avatar for the Totemic Dove Goddess- a creature of peace, love, and nurturing. She was gifted with uncanny empathy, almost bordering on the super-natural. She had vision beyond mortal-ken. It gave her strength, and the ability to temporarily fly short distances, along with an almost preternatural grace. Her connection to the Totem allowed her to calm others, and repress violent urges- to better encourage discourse.

    In Central Park, Gia was known well among the local homeless population. Before each class she'd arrive with her backpack full of MREs and hand them out to those who were invisible to most others. She sit with them and talk to them- treat them like real people and not like vermin. If there was ever a place to start- it be with them, because the homeless in this area knew her well and looked out for her.

Shadow has posed:
Of course, the homeless are unaware of Gia's true nature... And by the same token, generally reluctant to talk to a tall dark-clad person. On the other hand, more than a few of them are entirely used to hearing voices where there's no one around -- and the Shadow does not have /time/ for niceties. Gia may be in danger. Where can she be found?

Silk has posed:
    "Gia?" A particularly drunk homeless man mumbles to whatever voice came from the shadows. "Haven't seen her. She went home, didn't come back. Hell's Kitchen..." That meant south of Central Park- through the city itself.

    The shadows continue to lengthen and darken as night comes upon New York. Street-lights flicker on to light the streets casting shadows in the alleyways and spaces between lights.

    Going south to Hell's Kitchen wasn't a particularly long walk, maybe ten or twenty minutes depending on the route one took. Knowing Gia, her route was probably not as direct as it could have been- she may have stopped along some of the better known squats or tenements to her apartment in a pastel colored building who's entrance was in a dark alley-way.

Shadow has posed:
    ... Not good. If she lived that close, she /should/ have already been able to answer the phone. Natasha increases her pace, vaulting the wall fencing off the park from the city proper and skimming over the occasional car. At the same time, she reaches out with senses that most humans don't have names for, listening to the shadows and the whispers of fear and darkness.

    She isn't seen, but where she passes people startle awake, hearing footsteps where no one walked, flickering shadows where there is no one to cast them. They can't tell what it is -- but they huddle inside nonetheless, staying near the light. Just in case...

Silk has posed:
    The Shadow moves effortlessly through the darkness cast through New York City. From shadow to shadow like a shade of things yet to come. Fear and darkness hang over the city like a cloud- there is always something to be afraid of in Hell's Kitchen.

    Natasha's senses bring her to an alley- the same alley that houses the entrance to Gia's apartment. She lives on the fourth floor, with access to a private area on the roof- walled off, a garden.

Shadow has posed:
    Of course, to most people a rooftop garden would be impossible to get to without a key to the building -- but to a trained traceuse, a wall is just a loose collection of irregular handholds. Natasha draws on the Shadow's strength for her first vault, making an almost impossible wall bounce to grab hold of the railing of the fire escape, then pulls herself up smoothly and quickly makes her way to the roof, perching for a moment on the wall sealing off the garden to take stock of her surroundings.

Silk has posed:
    Gia's garden is a shambles- the well cared for mixture of potted plants and trees showing signs of a struggle. Something happened here- something bad.

    The fight seems to have started in a far corner. A cup of tea remains in place, gone cold in the cool of the evening. The milk has begun to clot and turn to curd. Its been there at least a day, maybe more. A book is on the ground, the cover torn.

    A trail of dirt leads back towards another potted ficus which has been turned over. Its pot is shattered- it may have been used as an impromptu weapon, judging by the patterns of dirt and shards of pottery.

    The battle seemed to rage back towards the door to Gia's apartment- but the way the doorknob is bent renders it useless. Her key is broken off in the lock.

    She went somewhere, from here- but where?

Shadow has posed:
    Natasha narrows her eyes as she vaults off the top of the wall, landing on the pathway between gardens. She crouches to examine the trail, then starts quickly following it, taking in everything she can to seek clues.

    She studies the door for a moment, wondering whether Gia managed to get inside. Unlikely, but...

Silk has posed:
    o enter the apartment would require some work, at this point. The windows are locked. This door is a bust. And that's when the rain starts.

    Its a light drizzle, barely there, really- only added to the cold. As the water flows down from large square structure that houses the door that leads back into the apartment. Its unusually dark... red.

    And it smells strongly of metal...

Shadow has posed:
    Beneath the rim of her hat Natasha's eyes narrow again, her lips curling in anger as she realizes what she's likely to find. She looks up, following the trail of dark red liquid to its source...

Silk has posed:
    A corpse- withered and drained, speared on a an old television aerial. Its as if she fell from a great height and it couldn't have been pleasant. The blood was a day or more old, thick and goopy- only the rain had worked it loose.

    If it weren't for the clothing. The jewelry, it be difficult to put a name to this particular corpse- but there are too many clues to not mark this poor creature as none other than Gia.

Shadow has posed:
    Natasha bites down on a snarl as she feels the rage pooling throughout her body. She just stands there for a moment longer, drawing on her Grandfather's words to keep the anger at bay...

    "The Tulku will undoubtedly tell you never to take things personally, because letting anger rule you is dangerous. He's right, of course -- but what he won't tell you is that sometimes thing will become personal whether you want to take it so or not. Don't deny your anger when it happens -- but don't let it dictate your choices, or the injured will remain unavenged and justice unfilled. You are the Shadow, and your anger serves you, not the other way around."

    ... And anger will not help Gia, now. Natasha looks up into the pouring rain, trying to figure out how someone could have fallen from up there, then reaches out briefly to brush the body's cheek in a silent promise before turning and leaping off the roof to the next building over. There is nothing more she can do here, beyond an anonymous tip to the police so they'll know where to look for the body. She needs to return to the Sanctum to think.

Silk has posed:
    And Elsewhere in New York City a wholly different kind of darkness has settled on the city. A pair of Hunters who have recently fed on the energy of our fallen Gia. The rain falls around them, cold, frozen. "Brother dear.." a feminine voice calls out, "Can you feel The Bride?"

    "Oh yes, my dear sister. The Spinner at the Center of the Web is near. Daemos failed, and Morlun is busy. Maybe we can snatch the prize for ourselves..."

    It isn't unusual for someone to disappear in New York City. To be mugged, or beaten, or murdered within her uncaring stone façades.

    But there are heroes. Points of light... even within the Shadows.