Logs:Dance on the Graves

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Dance on the Graves


Characters: Buster, Jeanie, and Talbot, with Tris as ST
Date: 2020-03-01
Summary: A grave-robbing, a feeding and a ghost tour all gone wrong in one night.
Disclaimers: {{{disclaimers}}}

Lafayette Cemetery No 1.jpg

Dig Grave.gif

NEW ORLEANS: swamp of mysteries, of enchantment, of the finest late night, creepy ghost tours this side of the Mississippi. They do, after all, have some fabulously famous cemeteries in which to hold them, with a plethora of above ground tombs to enshrine the long dead. It's a good night for it, with a clear sky, and moon shedding light down to dimly light the cemetery on the whole. Tonight's tour group doesn't hold quite the usual spread, since there's a group of giggly, girls and guys looking like they stumbled out of the club and got handed a flashlight tailing the beleaguered tour guide doing her best to be heard over the unexpectedly lively group.

Flashlight beams zoom around as the subgrouping pauses, just as the tour guide is droning on about the how the cemetery was the first one planned of its kind, established in 1833. Blah blah blah. It's not nearly as interesting as the girl getting a selfie with one of the angels perched atop one of the small house-like tombs. These aren't the only participants in the tour, just the loudest. Among the others are an older couple with some kind of handheld shake-it-out polaroid camera, and a few others that vary more in age and type whose reasons for attendance remain mysterious.

--

Touristy cemetery tours might not normally be Jeanie's thing, but when your very well meaning mother sends a groupon for just such a tour that she already purchased, what's a girl to do? Apparently bundle up in a Tulane hoody and grab a flashlight because that's exactly what she did, trying to hide a yawn in the back of the group as she wrinkles her nose at the sight of Miss Selfie's latest pose. "I'm sure Mr..." She swipes her light towards the tombstone as she peers closer for the name. "Dubois was glad to have died for the 'Gram."

--

"So that was a bust." Buster says, before he closes up the tomb behind him and then begins to wipe the grime off his hands. "I felt sure that was the tomb the clues were point to..." He pauses, and then looks up, at the distant shine of a flashlight. "Shit, shit. Hide the tools." He glances back up. "It's a tour. A tour after dark? They've got to be drunk..."

--

"I'd rather not. I died in one of these," Talbot says, before Buster makes his way into one of the tombs here. Besides, his shoes were polished and altogether way too nice for this sort of adventure. Talbot plants himself squarely at the door, and takes his phone out to pass the time. Probably swiping some latest hookup app. He gives Buster a /look/ as he comes out. "I could've told you that," but he helps, packing up whatever tools they had and moving them to a less conspicuous location.

--

As yet, the flashlights are some distance away, and thanks to the segment of the group that is, in fact, drunk, there's more time as the creep-seeking crew wanders down the cross-shaped arrangement of the cemetery. The tour guide is valiantly still sharing her wealth of knowledge, "-over seven thousand people, here, and some still waiting for residents-" as she loops back toward the group touching all the stonework and- "Please, y'all, this is hardly respectful behavior to the departed." She's not even above saying, "Y'all wouldn't want to disturb the ghosts, now."

Maybe it's the humidity, but maybe that word, 'ghosts,' being breathed too loudly so close to so many sets of bones-- and oh, walking corpses in the form of grave-breaking vampires-- is bad luck. "Notice," the tour guide raises her voice to call to the group wandering ahead of the stragglers, "how many of the closure tablets owe to the deaths from the yellow fever, known here as the Saffron Scourge. Not something we have to worry about now, but just think how many angry spirits would hate to- oh, come on now, y'all." That's when she has to go pull one of the young women away from petting one of the cherubs leaning on a tomb door, like it's some especially friendly chihuahua. That one may have had a little too much to drink.

Mr. Dubois' immortalizer must not be quite as drunk as some of the others because she's stumbling over toward Jeanie to issue a pout before sighing down at her phone and lifting her flashlight in the general direction (though thankfully not onto, or even really all that near, the vampires).

--

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to ask her about what possible caches of occult lore in the city from the 1800s. I could've SWORE all the clues pointed to that tomb... *fuck*, I hate mysteries. Anyway, if she wakes up fifty years from now and the city's under water how pissed do you think she'll be?" Buster hisses to Talbot, before he peers up, trying to get a look at the tour group. "God, they are drunk. Fucking *tourists*-"

--

Right on cue, Jeanie gives a full bodied shiver as the tour guide begins talking about things like Yellow Fever and ghosts. Just coincidence, right? A strong breeze? The blonde's glance swivels RIGHT towards the tomb that Buster and Talbot are currently occupying, but thankfully her own light doesn't cast nearly that far. She'll at least try to 'help' the tour guide with Ms. Pout-y Selfie Taker. "Hey, I think I heard the redhead over there laughing at one of your latest pics." If they start fighting each other, they won't be disrespecting the dead directly, right? Either way, Jeanie's going to avoid the loudest section of drunks and stick to the edges of the group, skirting closer and closer towards the open tomb that really should be closed...

--

"Oh, sorry, baby," Talbot looks up as he shuts off his phone. Wisely, as the lack of a phone light shrouds them in a darker shadow, making it harder to see. "Well... I'll make it up to you, I promise," he says, just smiling in return at Buster's annoyed tone. Damn Ventrue. Then Talby leans out to get a closer look at the group, "Let's just pretend to be one of them. C'mon. I think I see someone you might like."

--

"Hey!" One of the not drunk tourists still not getting their bang for their buck as their tour guide is being co-opted into babysitter by the-- yeah, that drunk girl is trying to climb the exterior of the structure known as the "Lestat" Tomb, really the Karstendiek Family Tomb. "Get down!" is really pretty ineffective as these things go, but she turns her head while hauling on the waistband of the girl shouting, "I LOVE YOU, LESTAT! COME AND TAKE ME HOOOOoooooOOOOME!"

"When do we get to meet the ghost of the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans?" shouts a dude in his mid-twenties, looking like he's got more muscle fibers than braincells. Beside him, his apparent companion for the evening, of slender build with that librarian-who'd-look-better-without-the-glasses look, shoves the bulkier guy with his shoulder to answer even as the tour guide turns back to the more pressing drunk girl problem to say, "I told you, man, that's in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. Not this one." There seems to be some confusion about which number one they're at; obviously one of these pair is sober while the other... well, at least he's not as far gone as the girls still giggling toward the back of the pack. Given the chaos, the likelihood of new faces slipping into this crowd without being noticed seems pretty likely, with the exception of a few sober and observant gazes.

--

Buster... pauses, and then he gives Talbot a look. "What--" He shakes his head, and crosses his arms, and something cross crosses his mind. "I was *working* and you want to--" He doesn't seem to be in a bitey mood tonight, it seems... but he does follow behind the Ventrue. "Hey." He says, affecting a drunk tone of voice, "We were with another tour group, but we stopped to take some photos and we got lost."

--

Sober enough, Jeanie is leaving some distance between herself and the drunky mc-drunkers, rubbing at her temple as she watches the tour guide try to deal with the fictional vampire fangirl with an eyeroll. Just when she thinks she has some breathing room, the woman jumps as there are two more probably drunks wandering up from a completely different direction. "Do they even TRY to do headcounts on these things?" Honestly, the tour guide probably isn't being paid anywhere near enough for the crap she already has tot deal with to try and add counting into the mix. She takes a deep breath and then puts on a fake nice smile. "The cemetery isn't that big. Just pick which direction looks promising and walk..." She'll even mime the whole walking thing with two fingers.

--

"Yeah, Lestat has sweet digs," Talbot seems to murmur in agreement. He casually walks up to the edge of the group, and waits for Buster to catch up. He looks up ahead to consider the group of drunk girls, thinks for a moment, before he turns to Jeanie. There was altogether too much eye contact in that conversation, which was... strange, to say the least. "This tour kinda sucks, don't you think? It can't be fun hanging out with those idiots," he means the drunks, "We found a pretty cool tomb back there though. Not sure what some of the inscriptions mean, but... wanna take a look?"

--

No, this tour guide really is not paid for this. "That's it!" She declares in the tone of a Southern Belle pushed just one step too far. It's well timed with the riiiiip of the party girl's too-tight skirt, and both women fall to the ground. There are screams. There are camera shutters snapping shots. Instagram and twitter are going to be buzzing - but not with ghosts, nor selfies, but rather with the advent of the cat-fight over yonder. What the distracting chaos does do is clear much, maybe even all of the other mortals who might've taken notice of the newcomers, though a few hang toward the back, less interested, apparently, in the number of retweets they're going to get from this shit. "This is better than when Anne Rice staged her fake funeral here!" One of the 'grammers can be heard to say above the din. (Spoiler alert: it's not.)

--

That chaos at the tomb might have even brought Jeanie to snap a few pics if she hadn't been too busy making way too much eye-contact with this new 'lost' drunk. At Talbot's proposition, she gives a dismissive snort. "Does that line really work with anybody? Wanna look at some neat inscriptions?" A particularly loud yelp from the ongoing catfight reminds her that yes... for some it might but she shakes her head and takes a step back. "Whatever happened to being lost?" Something about this story just isn't adding up for her.

--

"Uhm..." Talbots shoulders slump and he spends a moment looking dejectedly at the ground. He gathers enough of himself together to roll his eyes at Jeanie. "Yeah, whatever," he says. It made sense that the Ventrue never had time to hone his lines because 'look into my eyes' always works. Almost always, anyway. He scratches at his jaw absently, and looks at Buster, "Well... we're not lost, /anymore/, since we found the tour group. We'll just follow everyone on the way out."

--

One would think a banshee had descended on the famed cemetery (which, honestly, could happen, given the advent of the Changelings hereabouts) with the decibel the shrieks are getting to. It's really an unexpected move that the tour guide would get into it with the drunk girl, but listen, when Southern girls throw down, they really invest themselves in the experience. This shit is going viral for sure. That is-- until, WOOP WOOP, DATS THE SOUND OF DA POLICE~~ It's actually a pretty quick response, so it's entirely likely that this isn't their first time being called to the late ghost tour at the cemetery. Before any of the officers are even clear of their cars out on the street, the drunk girl's friends and the bulky drunk-but-not-too-drunk dude are helping muscle the women apart, both still screaming and sobbing. So much for the tour guide's job, but maybe she can get a new job thanks to her viral videos?

--

"You gotta up your game, dude," Buster says to the ventrue out of the corner of his mouth, before he shrugs at Jeanie. "I'm just Talby's wingman, man. But I mean, I assure you, he's the whole package. Great dancer, knows all Lord Byron's poems." He elbows Talbot. "Don't you?"

--

"Uhm, thanks, man," Talbot looks at his feet, sheepishly. His ego is bruised and in need of soothing. He presses his lips against his teeth, before he looks up to Jeanie and says, "Forget my terrible line. I did, in fact, had a witty and amazing line. Now go on now. It's time to clear out." The implication of the police sirens is not lost on him.

--

Buster looks at Talbot and then says, "That was lame, Talby. La-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-me." Then he reaches out to goose the Ventrue. "But your butt is still amazing."

--

Seems like the Jedi must have learned a thing or two about mind tricks from vampires because Jeanie's blinks slowly, once... twice... three times before she shakes her head and seems to come back to herself. "What line?" She doesn't really have much time to ponder what it is she has definitely forgotten as those blue and red lights catch her attention and screw the rest of the tour. Jeanie's heading home, although she's going to keep a very tight grip on that maglight just in case the club might need to serve double duty as club as well as light on the short walk back to her apartment.

--

It seems that the New Orleans police-- or is that the Sheriff's department answering the local call? One or the other, surely, but they have no fear of graveyards, even ones that contain actual living dead. They'll have the tour group, Jeanie, and jobless but brave tour wrangler herded out in short order. If the vampires are lucky, they won't even send someone to check for stragglers, with all the people they have to quickly handle getting statements from. Lucky vampires.

--

Talbot sniffs and turns a forlorn look at Buster. "If you tell anyone about this, I'm going to gut you," he mimes a turn of the knife towards Buster's midsection with his hand.