Post-Chasma Catchall

POST-CHASMA PSL CATCHALL

Here is a catchall for post-Chasma threads! Anyone from Chasma is welcome to hit me up with a starter here (or toss me a DM)!

I've got a few general prompts if you wanna use 'em (or make a variation, or nab 'em and toss me something on your own journal/musebox)! Optional, of course -- original starters are very welcome!

[ A - POV: You are a weirdass cryptid who just shows up at people's workplaces. ]

[The interior of the police station is about what one might expect. It's a little old-fashioned from a modern perspective, with typewriters instead of computers. A few bulletin boards line the walls, one displaying a large map reading "Revachol West" with a number of pins stuck into it.

A banner on one wall reads JUSTICE - UNION - PRUDENCE - FORCE.

There are several desks in this office area, but it seems most of the officers are away. Sitting at a particularly clean-looking desk is Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi, his bomber jacket draped over the chair, and his eyes glued to his notes as he compares and amends a few documents. He's hunched over his work, and doesn't seem to notice you come in -- even if you happened to open a window right there in the office.

Maybe you should say something? It might be bad if one of his coworkers walks in and sees you before he does. Then again, I don't know. I'm just some metatext, I'm not the boss of you.]

[ B - POV: You're under arrest for being a weirdass cryptid. Or maybe you're just unlucky. ]

[You've come to Revachol to visit Kim (or not, I don't know your life), but for whatever reason, you completely failed to keep a low profile. Maybe you got caught trespassing, or your daemon caused some alarm, or you went around acting like a weirdass cryptid, and somebody ended up calling in a complaint to the police.

The sound of sirens herald the arrival of a blue motor carriage, which pulls up nearby. The first person to step out is a tall dark-haired man in a black uniform with white rectangles on the sleeve and back. He looks distinctly unimpressed. From the door on the opposite side, a more familiar-looking man emerges, wearing thick round glasses and a bomber jacket adorned with the same rectangles. He sees you, and tries not to react immediately.]

((Alternatively: This is the Kim & Jean option, but if preferred, you may have Kim with Harry, or Kim alone.))

[ C - POV: You are a normal person. ]

[Okay, maybe you actually have the social awareness to know that yoloing into somebody's world without warning could cause some problems, so instead, you sent a message ahead of time and/or arranged a meeting. Whatever the details, you used some basic communication skills. Good job!

You meet on the coast on the outskirts of the city -- it's a good place to open an interdimensional window without anyone seeing, the lieutenant reasoned. Indeed, there's no one around here. There's just the reeds and the sea ice, the distant sounds of birds and dance music(?), and a number of old abandoned buildings, including what appears to be a church. Across the water, the beginnings of the city. Paved streets, rusted rooftops, and much of it in disrepair. A few taller buildings look as though their upper floors were violently ripped right off of them, leaving them shorter than they once were. Farther in the distance... highways, skyscrapers, and the shadows of helicopter-like aircrafts hovering about.]

Here it is: Revachol. The northern coast, district of Martinaise. It's not the nicest part of town... [Kim offers a small smile, as if to assure you that he wouldn't be offended if you were also thinking about how not-very-nice it all looks.]

[ Wildcard! ]

(Give me a starter of your own, or make some variation of the previous prompts! Kim would be willing to visit other worlds, either at your character's request, or if he actually (gasp) takes a goddamn vacation? It could happen, why not.)

Anyway, come at me!

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[It's a nice normal day. Kim deserves nice normal days.]

[It isn't going to be a nice normal day any longer, because whenever he sits at his desk, he'll find someone just sitting underneath it.]

[Sholmes waves.]

Hello, my dear fellow!

[WHY ARE YOU THERE]

[He just walked away to use the photocopier. He was gone for maybe five minutes. Why this??

With a start and a sudden creak of the swivel-chair, Kim jumps to his feet, his hand on the back of his chair to steady it. For a moment, the thought of pushing the chair in and walking away occurs to him, but is ultimately dismissed. After a few more seconds of dumbfounded gawking, he finds the words, forcing himself to keep his voice hushed.]

What in god's name are you doing under there?

Investigating, Lieutenant! In the line of our work, one must pore over every nook and cranny, yes? Especially in the places one never looks!

[He seems very unperturbed by Kim being perturbed by his sudden appearance, and pulls out a piece of paper.]

I did, at least, find some sort of receipt under here. Is it yours?

Yes, well, if someone sees you snooping around an RCM office in the name of "investigating," they're going to arrest you for espionage. We have sensitive information here that requires security clearance...

[He's looking to make sure nobody's about to walk in on this conversation, and not moving to take the receipt. But if it is his, it appears to be for a paint job at an automobile services shop. Dated in late March, '51. It's probably recent, going by the condition of the paper and the fact that the space under Kim's desk is otherwise very clean.]

Believe me, my dear fellow, I am not alien to sensitive information. All information I learn is held in strictest confidence!

[Terrible! Male thot enemy of the state! He tilts his head.]

Now, based on what I've found...you have a car that you've been touching up, have you? I see your adventures in Nerak and Kings are continuing!

[He can't quite suppress a sigh at that.]

It's not "adventures," it's...

I just needed to change the numbers on my patrol car.

Oh.

[A pause.]

Well, how dreadfully boring. You should have adventures whenever you'd like.

I'm absolutely fine with "boring." I get enough excitement as it is, since transferring to a much busier district...

["Lieutenant, it's just you in here? We've just received some complaints from East-Jamrock, there's... a giraffe, blocking traffic? They want us to send someone out."

The police officer who enters the room is a young woman with short brown hair. She walks over without hesitation, and all hope that she might miss the detective under the desk is quickly obliterated. There's a long, awkward pause... and then she and Kim both speak at the same time.]

Don't we have an Animal Control Unit for that...?

["Is there a man under your desk...?"

The lieutenant and the officer both stare, each waiting for the other to answer.]

[Well.]

[He's sure been found out. But instead of balking at the attention, Sholmes moves out from the desk, standing before seemingly pulling a pen out of thin air. He twirls it in one hand, before giving a bow.]

My apologies, my dear madam. I seem to dropped this pen as it rolled away merrily under the Lieutenant's desk. I dived down to retrieve it just now. The name's Herlock Sholmes. I'm a detective, you see.

[And a beat, as he grins.]

Now, a giraffe? A most serious case. There's no zoo nearby?

[The officer looks uncertain, and Kim clarifies.]

A consulting detective. We crossed paths on a recent case. [As always, the best lies are the ones that are mostly true. And, since "consulting detective" is a bit of a dirty word in a police station, he adds:] He can be trusted.

["Oh..." She studies Sholmes for another moment, then offers a polite smile. "I'm sorry -- didn't mean to make things awkward. Judit Minot. I'm a patrol officer here. And the zoo..." Another look at the lieutenant, as if to ask, does he really not know?]

I'm sure it's a surprise to anyone not from around here. During the Revolution, a number of animals escaped from the Royal Zoo and were never recovered. The zoo was left derelict and eventually torn down. Ever since, we've had a small population of black-spotted giraffes living here in Revachol West.

Indeed, indeed. I'm a consulting detective through and through. A pleasure, my dear madam.

[He beams, inwardly pleased at "he can be trusted" - ah, Kim really knows how to make him feel touched, doesn't he?]

Oh? I see, I see! How very fascinating. Nobody's attempted to round them up and sort them out?

Some attempts have been made, only to be met with backlash and quickly abandoned. They've become a sort of... local attraction. People like them.

People like them? Ah, well, they are certainly a unique animal, by all accounts! Though they seem to be causing their fair share of trouble, regardless.

...Ah, you did mention an Animal Control Unit, yes?

Yes... [Kim turns to the officer with a questioning look.] Why aren't we bringing this matter to them instead?

["We tried, but they don't have anyone free to dispatch right now. Apparently, they're all busy with the Samaran bear smuggling case..."]

Right... the bear smugglers. [He closes his eyes, apparently having been reminded of something exhausting.]

The bear smugglers?

[The very mental image seems to delight Sholmes - he's clapping his hands together, eyes practically sparkling.]

Why, my good fellow, you do seem to have a rash of cases with the animal kingdom in these parts! Now, why would they smuggle these poor bears? For sport? A circus act, perhaps?

[Spike is just lurking outside his station one day, smoking a cigarette in the shade. Erastis is nervously hidden behind his leather duster. When he spots Kim about to leave, he gives him a nod like him being here isn't ridiculously bizarre.]

Alright, lieutenant?

[With his black bomber jacket on and a hand in his pocket, Kim steps outside, turns at the sound of that voice... and stops.

And stares.]

What... What in the world are you doing here?

Visiting, aren't I?

[He shrugs and offers Kim a cigarette.]

Sort of just went through this door at random, don't go getting a big head about it. [He looks at the surrounding city, a small smile on his face.] Interesting place, except for the whole "french people" thing.

We're not French. We're Revacholian. From Revachol. Which is here.

[In case he didn't know.

Kim considers the cigarette... then takes it, supposing it may as well be a sort of peace offering. He hasn't had his one for the day yet, so it's fine.]

Yeah, so it gets a passing grade on account of not technically being French.

[It's more just him being friendly. Kim's just a guy, he never did anything to Spike, so.]

Is it hard going back after all that shit? Can't imagine an interplanar biblical murder tournament is usually on the crime roster in these parts, but maybe I'll be surprised.

This is a district with a lot of unusual cases... but you're right, nothing quite compares.

[He examines the cigarette, then takes out his lighter and lights it.]

Still, it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. As soon as I started my old routine again, it was like I never left. [A skua perched up on a nearby windowsill lets out a squawk, as if to remind him that his soul-bird is still here.] Well, almost.

What about you? I'm afraid I don't know very much about your day-to-day...

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Post-Chasma Catchall

POST-CHASMA PSL CATCHALL

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