Welcome to SU: Legacy, a next-gen Supernatural RP that takes place in the year 2040. The Men of Letters has expanded to include three base locations across the continental US. Angels and demons have gone mostly dormant but there are still supernatural evils lurking in the shadows. The legacies could use your help. Are you in?
Giving credit where credit is due. A big thank you to all the coders at PBS and various resource sites for any codes, plug-ins and templates.
Thanks to Nick @ Fidelius for the fabulous mini-profile. Everything else was created by our own staff. If we missed someone please let us know.
We don't own Supernatural, we just enjoy it's awesomeness. Thanks Eric Kripke for creating it, all the writers/producers for putting out a great show and the CW for keeping it on the air for almost 10 years now!
It had been less than a week since Brody had walked back out of the front door of Murdstone Mansion. Perhaps walked was the wrong word to use. Stumbled? Lurched? Brody couldn't kid himself, he'd practically had to be dragged out by random strangers who'd dumped him at the nearest hospital the first chance they got. Nothing new there. It had happened so many times before he'd lost count, but this occasion was a little different. Sure, it was the same old symptoms; major blood loss, disorientation, unexplained wounds; but it wasn't his stigmatism that had resulted in a trip to the ER. No it was something much stranger, which for Brody meant major weirdness.
He stood outside the fourth bookstore he'd visited today, idly scratching the healing vampire bite on his neck because he was a sucker for picking at scabs, just hoping that he might find something useful here that would explain all the strange occurances of late. Or at least some of them.
Glancing up at the name above the door on his way inside, the distraction caused him to stumble slightly up the low step in front of the door. It didn't look like a big place from the outside but once you'd stepped inside it was another world. One built of paper and wood, shelves lining the walls floor to ceiling and books stacked high across most of the floor space making it a somewhat labyrinthian interior.
The pervading scent of musty books took Brody back to his college days, hazy afternoons spent in the library not reading, but hiding amongst the stacks with a variety of pretty ladies at one time or another, just trying to catch a little sliver of privacy in a college that was overpopluated. The memory made him smile but it was soon chased away when he focused on what it was he was looking for.
The truth was, he had no idea what he was after, he just knew that he'd been to every city centre library between here and Murdstone and almost every major bookstore that would let someone who looked as rough as he did through the door.
Usually, the Barnes and Nobles of the land took one look at his dirty boots, the torn jeans and the scruffy shirts, the unkempt beard and the faint smell of not washing for a few days and called for security to escort him from the premises. He preffered these smaller, out of the way kinds of stores, the owners were usually a little more tolerant of the less polished members of society. They weren't so bothered about sales of frappucino's or so anal about how shiny the new book sleeves were that they went around wiping them down and frowning at people putting their fingerprints on them.
He closed the door behind him, finding that the moment he shut out the street sounds, the entire place stilled into silence. A quick glance around and he realised he was the only customer in the place which was probably better really, considering what information he was looking for. No need to go advertising that you're interested in lore on vampires, demons and anything not widely circulated on stigmata. Over the years he'd read every book he could on that subject and they all pretty much said the same thing and weren't helpful in the slightest.
Brody took in the sight of thousands of books with seemingly no system of organisation that was obvious to him and gulped quietly as he fidgeted with the fingerless gloves he was wearing to hide his stigmata scars. He felt suddenly overwhelmed by the prospect of having to search through the forrest of literature and suspected that even if he did attempt it, he'd be here for days.
"One of these days I'll learn to use the internet...." He muttered to himself as he glanced around the place.
Post by holeinthewall on Apr 7, 2009 15:10:43 GMT -8
Chet Farley had an eye on the kid the moment he stopped in front of the store. Of course, Chet kept an eye on pretty much everyone who walked by; that was why he'd stuck his desk where it was. This kid, though, wasn't like the multitude of people who passed his establishment every day.
He hung around just outside the door like he was arguing with himself, scratching at his neck. Chet had almost written him off as just another passerby when he half-tripped over the doorstep and walked inside.
Once he was on the other side of the glass, Chet could see more of the kid. He was kind of scruffy, and looked like he hadn't had a shower or sleep in the past couple of days. He was wearing fingerless gloves, and kept tugging at them. He looked over the endless pathway of books that made up Chet's domain and seemed overwhelmed.
"One of these days, I'll learn to use the internet.." the kid muttered.
Chet felt his lips quirk in a smile as his suspicions were half-confirmed. The kid didn't look like a latte-and-literature bookstore guy; he was looking for something specific and they didn't have it where he probably looked before.
Well, it was in here somewhere, Chet Farley was damn sure of that.
Wonder what it is, Chet thought idly as he shifted in his chair, letting it creak a little bit as he said, "can I help you find something?"
The unexpected voice startled Brody a little and he snapped his head in the direction of the back of the store to see who it was. The guy was sitting behind a huge desk in the back corner of the place looking totally unfazed by his appearance.
"Oh, hey. I didn't see you back there." Brody replied automatically, leaning around a stack of books to better see the man he figured either ran or owned the place.
"You got a lot of books here, I was just trying to figure out where to start." He added as he closed the distance between the two of them, mentally trying to word his request right so that he didn't sound like a loon.
"Have you by any chance got a supernatral section? Like fact rather than fiction?"
Most stores had only housed a couple of small shelves on the factual side of the subject, the rest of the space devoted to the more well known fictional side with it's Anne Rice novels and it's unrealistic ghost stories.
Post by holeinthewall on Apr 7, 2009 15:46:49 GMT -8
Chet managed not to grin. Barely. It was a fight. Yep, the kid was on a mission, and it was the kind he could help with. He stood up and walked around the edge of his desk, avoiding the various close shelves and piles as though they weren' t even there.
Chet gestured towards the shelves on the far left wall. "Well, that depends on what you want. Ghostology, Demonology, religious lore, ancient myth, how-to guides- although between you and me, those are mostly useless. You want the basics, that's your shelf."
He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Anything incredibly specific, you can ask me. I know this mess like the back of my hand." he added, as a sort of afterthought, "I'm Chet. Chet Farley."
"Brody." Was his simple reply, his last name not given mostly because he hadn't used it for years. There wasn't much call for him to do so and had Chet been law enforcement or any figure of authority, it was unlikely he would have even given him his real name at all, but Brody's first impression was that this guy was pretty friendly so there was no need for lies. Not yet anyway.
"Uh...you got anything on stigmatism?" He enquired, figuring he'd start with the subject he knew the most about, shoving his hands subconsciously in his pants pockets as he did so. If he could find something here that he'd not been able to find anywhere else, he'd know he was in the right place to ask about the other freaky stuff he'd encountered.
Post by holeinthewall on Apr 12, 2009 15:33:12 GMT -8
Chet rose an eyebrow at Brody, mentally rewinding the clock until he found the short term memory he was looking for- the younger man tugging on those fingerless gloves.
"Well, that depends." he said. "Are we talking the kind you need a laser and an eye specialist for-" he looked over Brody's seemingly completely healthy eyes- "or the kind you might need an exorcist for? Caus' I've got books on both."
"The exorcist kind." Brody replied, scanning the wealth of books in front of him. For an out of the way book store, this guy sure did have a lot of information on something that most people thought more fantasy than reality.
"Uh...not that I need an actual exorcist..." He added, a nervous laugh creeping out. "'Cause that'd be nuts. Heh."
Yes Brody, that would be nuts, but seeing real life vampires and people who's eyes turn totally black? That's completely normal...
"You know much about stigmata?" He asked, distracted by a book he'd not seen before on the subject. Pulling it from the stacks, he glanced at the cover and then turned it over in his hands to read the blurb in the back, finding that there was none to read.
Must be an older book..
Without really thinking about it he sniffed the pages, as though whether it was funky smelling or not would prove it's age.
Post by holeinthewall on Apr 16, 2009 8:14:57 GMT -8
Chet watched Brody sniff the book. He couldn’t help but smile a little. It had been a slow couple of days, with Greg out of town and only a trickle of regular customers. With no Greg Marsh to irritate and not enough real business to speak of, a guy could get bored. At least this would liven things up a little. He glanced at the title of the book Brody had chosen; Stigmata and Modern Science, by Charles Mortimer Carty.
Chet left Brody with the book and headed over to the door. Two deadbolts and a flip of the ‘closed’ sign later, they were ready to get down to some serious business. He turned back to Brody.
“You know, most stigmata sufferers are female.” He said thoughtfully.
"Most but not all." Brody pointed out, looking up from the book that was now open in his hands. He'd skimmed the first few pages, some information familiar, some not so much.
"Saint Francis of Assisi for example. Or Padre Pio, the guy mentioned in here." Snapping the book closed in one hand he gave it a little wave to indicate that was what he was reffering to before his eyes narrowed and he looked past Chet to the sign that now told people outside that the store was closed.
"Did you just lock me in?" He asked, pointing a finger at the door, hoping that this was not about to turn into another one of those 'get locked in and then things try to kill you' scenarios.
Post by holeinthewall on Apr 17, 2009 15:26:19 GMT -8
Chet made a jerking motion with his thumb, past his desk between two rows of shelves filled densely with books. "That's the back way and trust me, it isn't locked. Straight shot from one door to the other. Measured it myself, a long time ago."
Chet shrugged. "I get a lot of people in here, Brody, and they're looking for things just as weird- sometimes weirder- than what I think you're after. And trust me, you don't want some kid looking for a cheap Dungeons and Dragons guide stumbling in on this conversation."
Chet crossed his arms. "I'm gonna level with you, kid. If you're looking for paranormal information, you came to the right place. You're not the first person who's come in here looking like they just stepped outta a bad episode of "The Twilight Zone." I'm not gonna call you crazy or kick you out, and all I ask in return is that you trust me, caus' I can't help you research if I don't have the full story. And judging by the way you were looking earlier, it’s one hell of a story- pun entirely intended."
Brody automatically glanced in the direction Chet pointed, vaguely reassured that there was another way out of the book maze via the back of the store. He turned around again, keeping his expression pretty neutral as he listened to the guy talk.
"Alright then, what exactly do you think it is I'm looking for?" He enquired, a keen look of interest now on his features. The book in his hands returning to the shelf without Brody really looking to see if it was going back in the right place. The book didn't really matter anymore if what he suspected was true. If this guy could give him some actual, useful answers.
The comment about him looking like he had walked out of a bad episode of the 'Twilight Zone' was slightly offensive but he had to agree, particularly with the vampire bite on his neck. Thinking about that again, he reached up and scratched at the scabs, mentally chiding himself for doing it once he realised and folding his arms in front of his chest to stop himself from picking further.
Post by holeinthewall on Apr 18, 2009 8:18:48 GMT -8
“Alright then, what exactly do you think it is I’m looking for?” Brody asked as he put the book away. Chet shrugged and leaned forward, grabbing the volume from where Brody had replaced it on the shelf. He pulled it out again, letting it flop open to a random page. His fingers went numb for a second as pictures began to form in his mind’s eye- the aura-imprinted memory that Brody had left on the book when he put it down.
“Brody Cale.” Chet said evenly, literally watching the other man’s life flash before his two-colored eyes. “once a professional ice hockey player. Suffered sudden appearance of stigmatic wounds during a fight with a rival hockey team. Went through some tests but didn’t get an explanation. Been moving place to place ever since caus’ the suckers won’t stop bleeding when they shouldn’t. Stole an invitation to Murdstone mansion…” Chet winced as Brody’s memories of the mansion replayed in his head. “Damn. Sorry about that, kid.”
At first Brody was too stunned to speak, his eyes narrowing and his brow drawn into a bewildered frown when Chet said his full name out loud. Then, as the guy began to recite all the major life changing events Brody had been through, his mouth literally hung open in shocked disbelief. It was as though he was reading an abridged version of his life story like it had been typed out and stuck to his forehead for all to see. It un-nerved him, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and put him on the defensive yet again.
"Wh.....what the.....what the fuck man?!" He exclaimed, his voice rising to meet the level his wariness was now at.
This can't be happening again.....someone is fucking messing with me. First Murdstone, now this? Maybe I really am in the Twilight Zone...
"Okay, who the hell are you and how the fuck did you just do that?" He questioned, pointing a finger at Chet in what he wanted to appear as anger, though deep down he knew it was fear. A man he'd never met, being able to suddenly tell him things that he'd not told anyone? That just wasn't normal and not normal lately tended to work out badly for Brody.
Post by holeinthewall on Apr 20, 2009 19:42:24 GMT -8
Chet had to hand it to Brody, he didn’t start throwing things (which was one of the milder reactions he’d gotten when he used his psychic abilities on patrons without warning.) He even managed to keep his voice calmish when he said (after the usual round of what the hell/fuck/whatever expletive was a favorite that day) "Okay, who the hell are you and how the fuck did you just do that?" along with requisite pointing finger.
“It’s called precognition- well, that’s one of the names.” Chet said in a rehearsed manner, giving the book he held a little wave. “You touch something, you leave a print on it. A little like fingerprints, only it’s a memory- an aura of you, like a photo negative. Anyone touches anything in this store and as long as I get a hold of it, I can tell you who they are and usually what they want.”
Chet put the book down. “It’s a good party trick.” He looked up. “And I already told you who I am. I’m Chet Farley, and I run a store. That’s pretty much it. You met the guys who go out on the field- I’m just the poor bastard they pester for information. Which is why I probably have what you need. So calm down- I’m not out to murder you.”
Chet didn’t blame Brody for being so paranoid. From what he’d seen, the younger man had stumbled head-first into the kind of mess that often turned regular people into the moody hunters who sought him out on a regular basis. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to give the ‘No I’m not something weird and freaky’ talk, but it was the first time he’d given it to someone who knew nothing about the darker world at all. He did want to help Brody, but the man had probably had enough of the supernatural.
Unfortunately, Chet knew from experience that ignorance, in this case, was most definitely bliss.
"You're not out to murder me? Well that's new and exciting. Everyone else I met this last week seemed to be of the opposite opinion." Brody scoffed, finding himself pacing up and down in the small space between the shelves along the wall and the stacks in the middle of the room, his fingers fidgeting nervously with the loose threads along the edges of his gloves. He didn't know what to think or how to process the wild and unlikely information he'd just been told, it simply repeated over and over in his head, desperately looking for the part of his brain where it would fit in and make sense.
"So..so I pick up a book," Brody grabbed the first, nearest copy of a paperback and held it up for demonstrative puposes. He didn't even look at the title or the author, neither mattered at this moment. "I touch it, then you touch it and magically you're able to know everything about me, because you've used your precognitive mojo on my fingerprints?" His tone suggested that he wasn't quite buying the explanation.
"You must have had other people in here that touched that book, how the hell do you tell which fingerprints are which?"