Logs:The Haunting of Pan pt 3 (or: Stakeouts suck.)

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The Haunting of Pan pt 3 (or: Stakeouts suck.)


Characters: Pan, with Lysander as storyteller
Date: 2019-10-19
Summary: Malik is being remarkably patient with Pan.
Disclaimers: {{{disclaimers}}}

The houseboat is a fine white thing with a body like an RV, but seaworthy. It's got a deck and railings on it, and it's dim at the moment - it is after dark, though. Maybe people are sleeping. There's a large security light over the back deck designed to light up if anyone gets too close - boat security is no joke.

Oh, and about halfway to the dock, Pan's pocket just felt a bit heavier and they discovered a heavy gold watch in it.

Now -this- is a question for the vampire. They're cloaked in Obfuscate, which makes stealth pretty trivial against opponents who are assumed to be humans. This motion sensing light - does it turn on when a vampire with Obfuscate passes? Obfuscate cloaks the vampire's presence from the -mind-, and motion sensors don't have one of those. Pan isn't sure - but is pretty sure that if anyone does look, they won't see them. And so, with a slow, steady, confident stride, Pan simply...walks down the pier toward the houseboat, and goes to climb aboard and look around.

The vampire is dressed all in black, at least - urban nighttime camouflage of the highest degree. They're wearing thin black gloves and carrying an inobtrusive black ballistic material messenger bag filled with all kinds of useful goodies: duct tape, handcuffs, lockpicks, a multi-tool. Even some rope and a crowbar. It's the kind of kit you -really- don't want to be arrested carrying.

The light does indeed turn on. Flick! And there's nothing there. There's a grumble from the boat next door where some guy is drinking and fishing for dinner. "Paranoid fucker," he can be heard to grumble as he drags his hat over his eyes to shut out the light.

The boat sways gently underfoot and the light goes out once Pan is on the deck. There's a door leading to the interior of the boat, and it is locked.

Above the door is a little tab jutting out that isn't part of the doorframe - a magnetic sensor. There's also a camera somewhere up in the upper corner of the deck, focused on the door. Apparently the doc takes the sanctity of his houseboat seriously.

How, exactly, does Pan disable the magnetic strip? How does Pan pop the lock? Who the hell knows. Larceny magic and good tools. But given a bit of time to work, and Obfuscate under which to do it? The door lock disengages and slides open without -audibly- alarming the whole place, at least. And Pan steps into the darkness. Thank god for vampires being pretty goddamn capable in darkness. Pan is better than most vampires. Even the very faint light from the ambient glow of the city around corners is enough to let Pan see as clear as most humans would in daylight - better, even. They take a moment to get their bearings and head inside.

There are lights - the street lamps of the marina, the neighbors' lights, the lights on the BluRay player and gaming sets and currently turned-off television. Once inside, Pan finds themself in a comfortable looking living room. Beyond that is a kitchen area and bathroom. Further beyond is the cockpit of the boat. There's a door leading downwards just opposite the bathroom. The place is tight, but manages to feel open and airy thanks to the large windows running along the sides. It should be noted that there are storm shutters, currently open - those might make the vessel sea-worthy. Everything is silent.

More cameras. Pan is savvy enough about security to notice them - but overconfident enough in Obfuscate to ignore them. They pull the door closed behind them and marvel at the fact that Dr. Jonas is so paranoid about security...but leaves the shutters open, leaving only glass between the inside and outside of his boat. Typical of guys with money. Reinforcing the door just makes you go in through the window. Or the wall. Pan is trying to be more subtle than that, though. And -hoping- Jonas is at home in bed somewhere. They pull the door quietly shut and begin to creep around, searching the place casually for anything that sticks out. They peek into the fridge. Human organs in jars? That door opposite the bathroom is probably a bedroom - in the exploration, that will be tried last.

There are no human hearts in the fridge. There /are/ some very nice gaming systems and electronic equipment on board the boat. Dr. Jonas has a fantastic modem and router - must have internet, even at sea. He's also got a Playstation and an Xbox, complete with a Kineckt and an Oculus Rift. This is what one gets being rich and single.

The door opens onto a set of stairs leading downwards into the dark. There are far fewer lights down there. The water sloshes gently on the sides of the boat, rocking it.

If there's time on the way out? Oh yeah, Pan is stealing Dr. Creepazoid's Oculus. Those are expensive. And they'd be so much fun to freak out Elders with.

But for now? For now, Pan is descending down into the dark of the boat's lower deck, braced for anything. Sex dungeon, probably. It's always fucking sex dungeons.

The door opens easily. The stairs are dark as sin. There's a light switch at the end of them. It's /pitch/ black here - there's a porthole, but it's so close to the waterline that there's precious little light coming through it. However, one thing will stand out to Pan's impressive vampire senses: no breathing. No heartbeat. The place is empty.

The dark is still and quiet. The bed is rumpled but comfortable-looking - thankfully it's not a waterbed on a boat, that would just be ridiculous. The room is reasonably large, with nightstands, dresser, a set of lamps built into the wall for mood lighting, a full mirrored walk-in closet... and oh yeah. The camera in the upper corner of the room, pointed right at the closet.

Huh. Why would there be a camera pointed at the closet if there weren't something -interesting- in the closet. Of -course- that's where Pan goes, creeping over to pull open the door. It's probably locked, isn't it.

The closet lights turn on. It's quite a lovely closet, honestly, full of suits and ties and jewelry boxes for tie pins and things like that. There are fine shoes at the bottom of the closet, arrayed and neat and not a single thing out of order. Something about it is... bothersome.

The jewelry boxes are on top of a large table-like structure, dead center in the open spot of the sliding door of the closet. That's a lot of space taken up by something in a place where space is limited and every single thing is so carefully thought out that it borders on OCD. There's something about that pedestal. It's made of wood, there are joints along the edges. Press here, press there, and the front of it... turns.

It's not a pedestal, it's a storage and display case which folds out and opens up to reveal a beautifully lighted and perfectly arranged array of watches. All brands, many varieties, most unique in some fashion that probably only makes sense to a watch designer or connoisseur. The display case is clearly designed to be viewed from anywhere in the room, but it directly faces the bed, and is front and center when the lovely closet is open.

First reaction: Shiny. Very shiny.

Second reaction: Why would he be protecting and hiding these watches like this.

Third reaction: Oh shit. He's murdering folks for their watches and keeping trophies.

Fourth reaction: Shiny.

Fuck it, it's time to fuck off and regroup. Pan decides to leave a little fuck-you for this serial killing murder doctor though. By way of taking each and every watch carefully out of that case and tucking it away before they close everything up. They close all the doors behind them. Lock everything. Even re-activate the magnetic strip as they leave a boat exactly how it was.

Except sans expensive watches.

And that Oculus Rift. Score.

Pan's phone buzzes. This will be when they get:

Unknown number: Yo. It's Mal. WTF man? Bro? Whatever. WTF buttercup.

That's a lot of watches. They're heavy. They're expensive. And the ghost wants a word with Pan about them, apparently.

Okay, unknown number.

Pan: new phone who dis

Unknown: Mal I told you WTF buttercup you just gonna take his shit and go?

Pan: i don't know a mal wrong number brosef

Unknown: Malik you numbskull

Unknown: Fucking coward

Pan: ya ok but malik who doh

Unknown: Malik who gonna haunt yo dreams tonight bich

While this texting is going on? Pan crosses to stand against one of the administrative buildings of the pier, and just...watches the houseboat.

Pan: i work nights so i sleep days

A few moments pass.

Pan: r u hot

Unknown: omg you

Unknown: I have no words

Pan: those are words

Unknown: fucking weirdass WTF man shut your face or I'll fuck up your phone

Unknown: who the fuck made a thing like you what even ARE you

Pan: not a man bro

Pan: not a thing either lrn 2 woke

Unknown: fucking christ it's just an expression buttercup

Unknown: you fucking ninjaed in there like a goddamn invisible whatever

Unknown: if you not a thing I'll eat my sister's hat

Pan: y. does ur sister have delicious hats

Unknown: I get you now

Unknown: you're like the type that has to fuck with everybody

Unknown: I notice you ain't left yet

Pan: i'm just chillin how bout u

Unknown: same

Unknown: just two dead folks starin' at the boat

Unknown: bet I can find him

Pan: ur weird

Pan: ain't lookin' for nobody

Pan: just chillin' waitin' for my homie to come home

Pan: ur a weird dude 4 random wrong number

Unknown: check the watch

Unknown: I a badass ;)

...okay. Pan didn't -bring- the watch. But they go to check a pocket and...yup. They look at the face.

The hands of the watch give a perfunctory wild spin and then point together, straight off towards the city and away from the boat. Then they wobble slightly, just a hint, before steadying and focusing in that direction like they've become a compass and magnetic north is /that/ way.

Pan: like i said not lookin' for nebody jus' waitin' for my homie to come home

Unknown: yeah well homie is coming home real soon now

The hands on the watch are moving again, changing angle slightly. The speed suggests that of a distant vehicle.

Pan: uh ok my dude thas great but i think its weird u still think you aint got the wrong number

Out loud, Pan says, quietly but matter-of-factly: "Texts are -real- bad when you're committing crimes, dude. Be cool."

Muttering underneath their breath, they add: "Dude thinks I'm a fuckin' Trump cabinet member or some shit."

Unknown: Wut u think this is a real txt? haha no. fantastical magic powers check it out, you talking to yourself

The phone goes dim and the screen flickers slightly and... Pan finds their half of the conversation in a note. Which flickers again and the Unknown's messages reappear.

Unknown: I can make paint on a wall I can make a phone make words look right if I had txt I'd be texting Cherie not ur weird ass

Pan: ok whtevah my dude brag all u want but can u scratch ur butt

Pan leans forward, reaches back with one gloved hand, and scratches their butt.

Pan: feels real good to be corporeal

Unknown: i ain't got a butt no more u weirdo

Unknown: <giant emoji face laughing so hard it has tears in its eyes>

Pan: my point exactly

Pan: just shut up and let me do my job. u ungrateful fuck

Pan: because if u threaten me or my phone again i will melt this watch

Pan: and call my werewolf friend who's an exorcist

Pan: and then what will u do

Pan: dumbass

Unknown: got mad at you for a while when I thought you were walking off. relax buttercup, this is just passing the time, no need for crazy

Pan: don't call me buttercup fluffnugget

And with that, Pan turns off their phone and tucks it away. They cross their arms over their chest and wait, occasionally checking their watch.

How are they spending the time? Thinking about how they're gonna use their new Oculus Rift to make Elders watch the sun rise and frenzy while they catch it on tape.