A General Meeting [Active/O P E N]

[comeswithpants]

Who: Everyone ever (no seriously)
Where: Everywhere In the parlour
When: Day 001, shortly after noon (after this thread with Liz)
What: Tim decides it's high time to call a meeting of the Residents-- to discuss the situation and the notes
Warnings: Hopefully not too many time paradoxes. If anyone who wants to be in on this needs the time adjusted

Comments

Notes

[comeswithpants]

And finally, the letters.

"All right, so maybe there's a pattern in these notes we've been finding," Tim said, now that everyone seemed to have gotten everything off their chests. "Can everybody who's found one step up?"

((ooc: All letter holders, please step up! Others are welcome to provide feedback and the like, of course.))

[fanged_wings]

Hearing that after everything else, the light got to his feet carefully and glided over, AT whirring softly. Skating was easier on his shoulder than walking. He stopped near Tim, digging into his pocket to pull out the note he'd found.

"I found this one in the dining room," he commented for the benefit of the others, unrolling it. Is the glass half empty or broken? A pessimistic view of things, that. It was hard to read too, but Akito could, just. He wondered who might've written it...

'I hate mysteries like this.'
'Maybe if we solve this one, we can go home...'
'We better. I'm getting bored.'

[guardiangunman]

Ha-- so Akito was the designated diplomat. Completely unsurprising.

"Was there anything broken?"

It was probably some kind of figurative language by a poet who thought they were damaged and clever, but it could never hurt to look into a literal meaning. The dining room was full of unpractically fragile things, after all.

[fanged_wings]

Ah, Ricardo. Akito smiled at the man before shaking his head. "Nope, it was just rolled up and in one of the wine glasses," he explained. "I did look around for a bottle afterwards, but I couldn't see one that was broken." It was a strange way to word things, really. He wondered what kind of person had been the one to write it...

[guardiangunman]

Ricardo gave a slight nod, acknowledging both the smile and the information. It was like the note Gavin had found in the bathtub-- it told the reader nothing, gave the writer nothing. It had no apparent purpose. One he could pass off as foolishness, but more...

"We should consider the possibility that this is a cipher." He paused and looked over the people assembled. "Has anyone dealt with ciphers before?"

[unexculpable]

"Sounds like it could be," Ed muttered as he pushed himself off the wall, heading towards Ricardo and Akito. Ciphers were his kind of thing. This wouldn't be the first one he's seen and it won't be the last.

"I have."

[fanged_wings]

Akito glanced at Ed as he approached and smiled a little before returning his attention to the subject at hand. "I've worked with codes before. My brother's a policeman of a sort, he sometimes writes his reports or orders in code. Or he does it just out of boredom." Kaito was weird sometimes.

He listened a little to something only he could hear. "Agito thinks that it could be possible that all the notes are part of a whole. But there's always a chance that there's false ones. And how do we know if we have them all?" Akito understood that last part. It was possible that if not all the notes were here, then they could be missing something...

[crownotcrane]

He walks up, with another calculating glance at Tim - trying to place him - before taking out his note again.

"This one was in the library. And any books of use to the current situation here have all been very methodically destroyed in some way, so I don't suggest going in there to look for specific information." He'd already gone through every destroyed book, trying to at least glean some information from the torn pages, but it hadn't worked to his favour.

[is_not_number1]

Mello's curiosity was piqued when he heard some guy talking about books in the library. He had come here to discuss the notes, but right now, asking about the library seemed to be more urgent. This guy had clearly spent some considerable amount of time investigating the library; there was a decent chance that he'd know something about the book that had apparently attacked him. It was frustrating enough to have no recollection of the incident at all, but the fact that he could no longer even open the book made it worse. Even if he was determined to figure out more, it would likely be impossible to do so by himself.

That was even more frustrating.

He couldn't let that show, though. "The library, yeah?" He raised an eyebrow. "Have you noticed anything screwy about the huge book that's just sitting on the middle of a table?"

[crownotcrane]

"I was more preoccupied with other things, so I left it alone. Is there anything particularly terrible about it?"

He's half tempted to go back to the library and look at it, just to see what happens, but he squashes that urge for the present.

[is_not_number1]

"Not particularly," he said with a shrug. "If you're curious, check it out yourself at some point."

He wasn't at all sure that was true, but if the guy didn't have anything to say about the book, then there was no reason to continue on with the subject. Besides, it wasn't as though he'd even be able to give the guy useful information about it.

"What's on your note?" He inquired as he reached into the pocket of his vest for his own, and held it out for the guy to see. "Anyway, I've got this. It was hidden behind the mirror in the bathroom."

Notes

[pfauenrad]

Finally, some focused inquiry. Klavier fished into his pockets and removed two flawlessly bagged notes. He stepped forward, one arm akimbo, ring-decorated hand resting on his hip seriously as he spoke, suddenly all professional efficiency.

"Excellent. Let's rock.

I have here two notes; the first was retrieved from the bathtub in the bathroom with the dolls." He brandished the grimy note, safe within its double-layer of protective plastic. "The second was found in the room with the dollhouse... and accompanying motifs."

Which was a very tactful way of saying 'the room with the Wonderland refreshments.'

"Neither one is written in the same handwriting. They are, however, uncontaminated."

That may be a dig, everyone.

Re: Notes

[grouchinleather]

Midnighter arched a brow at the two bagged notes. Who the fuck was this guy? Other than German, given his previous outburst. The bag thing reminded him of a cop, but the get-up reminded him of any number of wannabe celebrities desperate for their 15 minutes of fame.

"Well then, glad to know they're uncontaminated. Let me go grab my forensic tool kit... Damn, I must have left it in my other coat. What ever will we do?"

Sorry, did you expect to be taken seriously?

Re: Notes

[pfauenrad]

Sorry, Midnighter, Klavier doesn't give a fuck what you think.

"We'll keep our sharp tongues in our mouths, lest we hurt ourselves and others with our stupidity." The prosecutor didn't look particularly bothered by the sarcastic reply. He didn't even look remotely fazed. Snapping his fingers, he turned on his heel to face the masked man fully.

"Tell me, my strangely-dressed friend, do you know what is on the note in this--" Klavier lifted the bag with the bathroom note, greasy and dark with unknown stains, "--bag?"

[comeswithpants]

Tim was listening quietly to everyone presenting what they had found, for the most part, only really offering commentary where he felt it was needed-- but this seemed like a needed moment. He'd not really spoken a lot with either man yet, but he didn't get the feeling that this little confrontation was going to end in anything good.

Clearing his throat, Tim spoke up. "Well, I guess even if we don't have tools right now, we can save it to figure out later, right? If nothing else, we can use a sample to perform some more rudimentary tests." At that, his cheeks flushed a bit, playing the role of the kid in a bit over his head. "At least, that's the kind of thing they'd do on TV, right?"

[grouchinleather]

"Who cares?!" Midnighter finally got out of his chair. He almost made for the bag to tear it apart, before thinking the better of it. Even he knew that would have been incredibly stupid, even if he would feel better having done it. He wasn't about to lose a way to get back to his husband and kid because this fucking European wannabe was an asshole.

"We do these tests and then what? We'd still be stuck in this goddamn house. Finding out that the person who left it there was eating a peanut butter and potato chip sandwich don't help us at all. Hate to break it to you, but this ain't CSI, kids." He looked straight at Tim on that one. "One of these rooms ain't a crime lab."

He crossed the space between his seat in the corner to where the asshole was standing and jabbed his finger at the baggie. "What's written on the note might be important, what might have touched it isn't. So either read the fuc--goddamn--note or give it to me."