Kingdom Lost - Episode 1 "Pilot"

[Tokiwong]

Santa Monica, CA
0815 Local Time, March 8th, 2004

The Vanderwolf Private Investigations office was a renovated two story flat house. It sat across the PCH, overlooking the sandy beaches. The morning air was cool, and there was a gentle mist rolling over the beachfront property. The first floor had a long pane window with the title of the company emblazoned on it, and a glass door with a chime attached to it. Inside the door was a small waiting area with four chairs against the wall and a thick brick wall with a second wooden door dividing the waiting area from the open office in the back. A coffee table dominated the room, and old ESPN and MAXIM magazines were strewn across it.

Beyond the door were several desks, for the staff of the agency. Papers were on some desks, and some were neater then others. Beyond the open office was a closed office the name of Graham Vanderwolf printed neatly in the center of the door. In front of the door, sits the desk of the secretary, Alicia Melendez.

Alicia is an attractive young woman of Hispanic descent with short dark cropped hair, with blonde highlights. She has a thin, attractive face and a petite build standing at five foot four inches. She is seated at her neat and orderly desk, chewing on the eraser of her pencil as she works on a crossword puzzle. She isn’t a hard worker, but she always shows up early and seems to keep the office running smoothly, ever since she was hired about eight months ago.

Outside the office, both Alicia’s red Honda Civic and Graham’s old school black Deville sit outside in their normal parking spots. Surfers are already out testing the waves, and several roller bladders, joggers, and bikers pass on the sidewalk across the street closest to the beach.

Players can intro yourselves, you have been working at the firm for perhaps two to six months. It is Monday morning in Santa Monica, so have fun describing your weekend if you like.

 

[Shalimar]

It was the purr of her alarm that woke her, a cartoon clock of the famous, Felix the Cat. 3 minutes later Sakura was out the door of her apartment and into the still dark morning. Wearing a black sports bra and a pair of matching jogging shorts, the young woman began her familiar 4 mile circuit around the neighborhood and through the park. Waving on her way past the bakery, she blows a kiss to the fatherly man who ran the shop who was always trying to fatten her up. She knew on the way back he would have a warm fresh sticky bun for her.

Halfway through the park she stopped beside a monument for something or other and begin her other exercises, crunches, push ups, all manner of stretches. It took her less then 5 minutes to get through her normal routine, and then she was off again, waving to the other regular joggers.

Sakura was back in her apartment, showered, and dressed by 7:00 am, and out the door not much later, still savoring the taste of the sticky bun. Kicking off from the curb, she maxed out her bike's acceleration and was speeding up the street deftly manuevering in around and between the traffic on her way to the office.

Sakura pulled into her spot and killed the engine, taking off her discman and helmet as she made her way into the office. "Hi Alicia." she says by way of greeting as she stows her helmet in a drawer in her desk along with the discman. She takes off her jacket, leaving her in a pair of Khakis a silk short-sleeve top, and a pair of sandals.

Knocking on the door to Graham's office, she heads on in, and drops into one of the chairs. "Hiya Graham, what's new?" she asks of her boss.

 

[JimAde]

Dexter's woke to the familiar harsh tones of his alarm clock. He slapped the snooze button clumsily and lay there semi-conscious until the alarm started screaming again five minutes later. He blearily regarded the clock and it mocked him with its "6:05".

He pushed himself upright and turned off the clock, rubbing his fingers through his shortish hair. He stumbled across his studio apartment to the tiny bathroom and started his morning routine. Although he showered, put on clean clothes (jeans and a BattleBots t-shirt) and tried to comb his hair in the bathroom's cracked mirror, he still looked like he had just gotten out of bed. He slung his laptop case over his shoulder and was at the nearby bus stop by 7:00. He found a seat on the bus and opened up the computer. Over the weekend, Dexter had visited his friend Jerry at UCLA. Jerry let Dexter use his wireless internet connection and Dexter had spent most of Saturday downloading info on a recent Jordanian dig that had found some unusal Aramaic inscriptions. Dexter was working on a translation in hopes of co-authoring a paper with Jerry. Just to keep his hand in academically. The forty-five minute ride passed quickly, and Dexter stopped at the coffee shop near work for an extra-large with everything and a cheese danish.

He walked the half-mile from the bus stop, his Converse high tops dragging their laces along the ground with an insistent skittering, and enjoyed the view along with his coffe and danish. He passed through the waiting room, said, "Hi, Alicia. Big weekend?" She gave a noncommittal answer while Dexter found his desk and slumped into his chair. As he connected his laptop to the docking station on his desk, he glanced up at the clock: 8:15. Late again. Nobody seemed to mind much as he was frequently in the office long into the evening as well. He also noticed that Graham's office door was slightly ajar and he heard Sakura's voice within.

 

[Tokiwong]

Knocking on the door to Graham's office, she heads on in, and drops into one of the chairs. "Hiya Graham, what's new?" she asks of her boss.

Graham’s office was not overly spacious or claustrophobic, but just nearly right. No computer sat on his desk, but there were papers, some file baskets and a round file just to the right of it. The walls had various articles and pictures from his days a police investigator, and more recently as a private investigator. On the right wall was a wall of books, reference materials, and various knick-knacks from various little places.

Graham sat in his chair with an aluminum coffee mug in his left hand and the morning paper in the right. He was wearing his reading glasses, over his dark blue eyes. His skin was weathered and creased with age, and his graying dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a white collared shirt, and jeans, and you could bet that he had his customary snakeskin cowboy boots on. That was his dress casual, and formal wear, and he would not have it any other way. Playing softly in the background on the old radio was rock and roll from the late sixties and early seventies.

Graham put his cup down, along with his paper, “Morning,” he said in his stern voice, “nothing much new. Investigators got their hands full with another murder victim found on the Pepperdine campus. Poor girl was cut up pretty good, too. That makes three in the last two months. They think the sicko is some kind of Satanist or something. Keep finding weird pentagram crap, I swear people get sicker every day.”

Graham cleared his throat, “Oh before I forget, you guys have a client coming in today at about nine-thirty. Mrs. Martin, infidelity, I think she wants you to tail her husband, find out if he is cheating on her, is what I got out of it. Should be easy, I want you guys to handle this one.”

Graham looks like he is about to continue when his cell phone rings. He looks at Sakura, “Excuse me,” and answers the phone spinning his chair away from the door. His way of saying that he would conversation at a later time.

 

[Shalimar]

Sakura nods, tailing cheating spouses was the bread and butter of any Private Investigator, it just went with the territory. While never pleasant, it wasn't particularly demanding, and it left time for other things as well. She rises from the chair and heads back out into the main area. Moving with her natural grace and balance, she dropped herself onto Dexter's desk beside his computer.

"Hi Dex, it looks like we have a case that'll let you play with your toys, if its not a waste of your time." she says with a smirk. "Graham wants us to handle this one, a wife who thinks her husband is cheating. Nothing too far out of the ordinary." she says with a grin.

"Hey, Graham was telling me about a string of Murder's going on at Pepperdine. Have you heard anything about it? It sounds pretty sensational, carving the girls up and leaving pentagrams." she says with her eyes sparkling, like she would rather be working that case then a cheating husband.

 

[barsoomcore]

"Good grief! Why can't anyone in this stupid country learn how to drive?"

Dan leaned on the horn of his beloved Nova once, and with a quick shoulder-check swerved around the Honda waiting to turn, the big straight-6 rumbling in sympathetic protest. He shook his head as he barrelled through the intersection, cut across two lanes and slipped into the parking spot next to Mr. Vanderwolf's Caddy. He sat listening to the engine for a few seconds. The straight-6 was traditional, but he had his hopes on a 386 V8, and grinned at the memory of his weekend, testing out the engine lift and checking all the connections in preparation for the switch.

Self-consciously he rubbed at his fingertips, where grease still lurked under his fingernails. He'd showered this morning, but then the timing belt was obviously slipping so he'd just given it a quick tweak. His shirt was still clean, though, he double-checked as he got out of the car and shook his head at the roller-bladers. It still made him grin, how everything you ever thought about California was true.

The Caddy needed a tune-up. Dan wondered (not for the first time) if it would be weird to offer to do that for his boss. Likewise Alicia. He saw Sakura's motorcycle and rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the Yamaha. Detroit was the One True Source, everyone knew that. Not that he'd ever say that to Sakura. She intimidated the heck out of him.

He saw Dexter and Sakura sitting at Dexter's desk.

"Morning, guys. What's up?"

 

[JimAde]

"Hi Dex, it looks like we have a case that'll let you play with your toys, if its not a waste of your time." she says with a smirk. "Graham wants us to handle this one, a wife who thinks her husband is cheating. Nothing too far out of the ordinary." she says with a grin.

"Hey, Graham was telling me about a string of Murder's going on at Pepperdine. Have you heard anything about it? It sounds pretty sensational, carving the girls up and leaving pentagrams." she says with her eyes sparkling, like she would rather be working that case then a cheating husband.

Dexter looked up from his screen to regard Sakura perched on his desk. "Yeah, I heard about it while I was at UCLA on Saturday. Creepy stuff. I just hope it doesn't set off another round of satanist hysteria." He shook his head and held up a hand as he noted the look in Sakura's eye. "The cops will deal with it, you know. Tell me about this divorce case."

Before Sakura could answer the door opened and Dan came in saying "Morning, guys. What's up?"

 

[Shalimar]

"Aww, come on, where's the fun in just ignoring it. I have been trained as a cop you know, I do know what I am doing." she says with a smug little smirk. "Come on, aren't you at all curious Dexie? Don't you want to see me work my magic on a case?" she asks mischeiviously.

"Hi Danny, It looks like we have a case, a woman is coming in at 9:30 to talk to us about her cheating husband, from what I understand from Graham." she says by way of greeting.

 

[barsoomcore]

"Another case, that's good news, huh?"

The thought of taking more pictures of middle-aged men checking into hotels does not exactly make Dan's morning.

"What's, uh, your magic all about? Is there another another case going on?"

 

[Tokiwong]

Interlude #1

In the meanwhile at Pepperdine University...

Officer James was a rookie, maybe a year under his belt at most. He joined the force for all the right reasons and up until now, he had thought he had seen some bad things. But the scene inside classroom was simply something he just did not expect. Although the body was removed, the visceral and blood still remained undisturbed while forensics and homicide continued their on-site investigation. He had made the mistake out of curiosity to just look in and see what all the fuss was about and was assault with imagery of bloody pictograms, symbols, and writing splattered over the walls.

He nearly lost his breakfast. He stood transfixed and didn’t even here the voice of the inspector behind him.

“Excuse me officer,” Detective Rose raised his voice, getting the rookie’s attention.

Officer James turned, “Oh my god,” he muttered, “I mean Detective… Detective Rose, sir, I wasn’t aware you were coming down here. Homicide is already down here, I don’t think they need Special Investigations-”

“Excuse me,” Detective Rose brushed pass the rookie, stepping under the police tape. He was tall and had a muscular, yet lithe build. His skin was smooth, almost like porcelain, and his light hair was long, in an androgynous way, that gave him a mysterious and powerful presence.

Officer James blinked, “Detective, can I help you?”

“Close the door,” Detective Rose spoke over his shoulder. The rookie shivered and simply obeyed without question. There was something about Detective Rose that scared him to the very fiber of his soul. And getting on his bad side was not something he thought he would enjoy.

Inside the room Detective Rose admired the scene with a cursory glance. His keen eyesight picking up nuances and details that even the most trained eyes could miss. He paced the room, following a careful path, taking care not to disturb the scene, and damage any evidence. He paused when he came to the strange script scrawled on the walls, a simple mantra repeated over and over, in a script that flowed like flayed flesh over the jagged edge of a knife.

“Mammon, my master grant us your favor… with this blood grant us power!” Detective Rose read the words aloud in a language not native to this world. But a tongue he was well versed in, that of the infernal, the beings of the pit. A language that fouled the air itself by its mere utterance, it was like sweet music, if the music was sang by dying children in the midst of a slaughter.

Detective Rose glanced to the door, and then waved his hand concentrating, as he tapped into a well spring of power that flowed all around him. It was like playing the tapestry of creation. He finished the motion by uttering a command word under his breath, and opened his eyes. The world was vivid with colors that danced and shimmered over the room, dark and oppressive colors that choked the life of the room. Detective Rose scowled, as his eyes danced from one pictogram and symbol to another, each charged with lingering power. The room itself buzzed with the remnants of some spent energy that was foul, and otherworldly.

The scene brought a smile to the Detective’s face.

He pulled out his cell phone and tapped the speed dial with a single graceful motion. He waited for the distant end to pick up before speaking, “I was right,” he started slowly speaking in a tongue that was smooth and lyrical and seemed to dance in the air with grace and beauty, “we are dealing with a rogue. Actually more then one rogue, and they are trying to draw favor from Mammon.”

He paused for a moment, “Yes that Mammon, they have talent I will give them that. But they don’t work for us either, and chances are if they have come this far, we are dealing with fanatics.”

The detective paused once more, before replying, “I understand milord.” He turned the phone off and placed it in his jacket. He folded his arms, the days was going to be long, but for the moment these rogues were a low priority it seemed some trash had rolled into town.

The Detective grinned, he enjoyed cleaning up messes.