outer_divide | Second Howl [Audio, Saturday morning]

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Second Howl [Audio, Saturday morning]

[An hour and a half after the Oracle's interrupted broadcast, another comes through. This one is obviously not from the Oracle. Lyall sounds a bit tense, though not terribly alarmed-- though he's most certainly feeling alarmed, he keeps that expression off his face with his usual firm control.

He even skips the polite greeting he might have otherwise started with.]

This is Randolph Lyall. The Oracle is missing. If anyone knows where she might have disappeared to, please check for her there. Or contact me privately and I will do so. Thank you.

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You know, considering the circumstances, I'm going to skip the whole "why are you looking for a mediocre database management system" and go right to "are there any signs of a struggle?"

[That's a new voice. Lyall doesn't think he's heard this fellow before-- new person, or simply a reclusive one? Regardless, his voice is a bit sarcastic when he replies, because really, what does he know about database management systems, besides how to alphabetize and categorize?]

Thank you ever so. That is much more efficient of you. As it happens, I believe there might be. Her nook in the Vault is rather in disarray. I'm mostly concerned whether she was taken by friend or foe, and why.

[There is the possibility that she escaped, but he's not holding out much hope for that one.]

Disarray like someone was tossing the place, or disarray like she's a really bad housekeeper?

[It's an important distinction. Anyone who's ever seen his desk would know why.]

[The werewolf sighs, with a little bit of frustration mixed in with his concern. Why had he never tried to get to know the woman better?]

I'm not sure. I haven't actually seen her nook before. It could very well be either, but if I had to guess I would say closer to the former.

[There hadn't been any fear-smell, though. He isn't sure what to make of that.]

Does she have one of these? Or does she just nest in this Vault and give tarot readings?

She has something capable of speaking on this network, yes. You may have noticed her transmission earlier this morning on the subject of floods.

[Which would be what set this whole search off. Lyall just wishes he knew what hers looked like, so he could tell whether it had been left behind.]

Yeah, not really. I automatically filter out anything over a certain level of completely insane.

Point being, anything using a carrier signal like this might be traceable. You know, assuming whoever's carrying it doesn't know how to screw with that.

[Oh, whoever this man is, Lyall is pretty sure he doesn't like him. He is most decidedly not polite, nor is he even being particularly helpful. He refrains from huffing an annoyed sigh, and addresses the problem rather than the person not taking it seriously.]

I'm not entirely sure she still has it on her. I don't know what hers looks like, to find it in that mess left behind in her nook.

[And just think - this is after Pepper's had a civilizing influence on him.]

At a guess? Look for anything that looks like it was manufactured after World War II. Or possibly a crystal ball.

[Beat.]

Or try calling her.

[The rest of that suggestion - that the tone should be audible within the Vault - goes unspoken. Mostly because Tony has difficulty conceiving of there being more than one person from the ship not familiar with cellphones.]

Calling her?

[That only comes up with some confusion. Then he assumes mister rude-and-arrogant means on the communicator itself, and makes a small, frustrated noise.]

I only know how to make these communication devices send mass signals, unless someone else encodes it somehow. Is there a particular code to enter to make them contact someone in particular...?

Seriously?

[Just this once, "stark incredulity" isn't only a pun.]

Yeah, all right. Hold on a second.

[He hangs up. The reasoning behind it might become clear enough a couple minutes later, when a musical trill begins playing beneath a drift of papers.

The Oracle's device is slim and silver, and doesn't quite resemble any of the other forms they've taken amongst the ship's general populace.]

[Sorry, Tony. You have a Victorian werewolf here, with a difficult to work communicator. A little obtuseness is par for the course, even if being called on it is both embarrassing and irritating.

He does, however, dart over to the nook at the sound of that ringing, shift the papers around, and pluck up the device in question to give it a look over. Since his connection is still broadcasting, he comments.]

Well, the idea was a sound one, but it appears she does not still have it on her person. I found it here.

[It's a moment longer before he returns.]

Damn. There goes that idea. At least they can't have gotten far. Unless the broadcast was on a delay, and I think kidnappers are contractually obligated to not be that smart.

[There's something sharp beneath the blithe tone, if well-buried.]

[Lyall wishes... Generally, a kidnapper wouldn't be expecting someone with a nose of his caliber, but they are lucky today. Whatever else is under Tony's tone, he assumes it's personal rather than actually helpful.]

I've already made a circuit of the town in search of her. The rain makes it impossible for me to accurately track anyone, but what I could do, I found very little sign that I could follow. I'm hoping that someone knows somewhere else she might have gone or fled to, and can find her, there.

[Next up on his own list: the subterranean streets, just in case.]

So, out of curiousity, how are the locals reacting to this?

Not much, as of yet. I haven't had much chance to ask around, but no one seems to have really noticed the disappearance.

[It could be that most of the locals are not particularly interested in wandering the Vault or watching the network for interrupted broadcasts, and so have no reason to notice after not even two hours, in between the rain and their usual chores.]

I will be seeking out the local militia leader next, however, and I imagine she at least will want to do something. I can put myself in contact with you later, to answer that question.

Or they're used to it.

[He doesn't even try to disguise the hard edge this time. He's disliking this place more and more with every passing hour.]

Do that. I'll send you instructions on how to make a private call.

[Which is possibly the strangest thing he's ever found himself saying, and that's saying something.]

[Grudging but grateful, Lyall can at least see Tony is trying to be of help.]

I appreciate that, thank you. It will save me a good deal of seeking people out in the future. Might I ask your name, sir?

((so what WOULD Lyall find out from questioning the city-folk? XD anything?))

The beauty of cell phones.

[Not that Tony's the type who's generally inclined to go looking for people anyways.]

Tony Stark.

[Poor Pepper.]

((That depends on who he's asking! People who are more closely involved with running things in town (Edmund, Roni) might give the impression that they know where the Oracle is - or at least have a general idea, if not specifics - but aren't willing to share. Most of the citizens obviously don't know, but are either indifferent or don't seem to be worried.))

Ah.

[A pause to blink and register that he knows that name. A certain friend of his had been quite upset by his loss-- a loss which has apparently been temporary.]

Welcome back, sir.

Yeah. Thanks.

[Congratulations, Lyall, you've managed to actually make Tony uncomfortable, if just a little.]

[And now Lyall is a little uncomfortable, himself. One of his good friends is apparently together with this... annoying personage. Well, he supposes he's disapproved of romantic entanglements in the past, and managed to adjust to them.]

Regardless. I will let you know what I gather from the locals, later on. If we're lucky, this isn't anything to fret over.

[Though he's likely to be doing plenty of fretting, in the meantime. He doesn't like mysterious disappearances. They always lead to trouble.]

Well, now that you've said that, we're all doomed. Good luck.

[He signs off without waiting for a response. So very polite.]

[Lyall gives a sniff of disapproval before he, too, shuts down the device. He has people to question, at the very least, and he can worry about Tony Stark... later.]

The old woman, you mean? I didn't see her, but I'll ask around.

[He spends a moment trying to puzzle out how to properly send a text on his communicator, then gives up and simply returns with a spoken message. Wasting a scrap of metal to burn through text seems silly.]

If you have contacts who might know where she is, please do. I have not been able to find Nem, either.

Is Nem short for something, or is that his/her full name?

...also, do we have anything that belongs to either of them that I could get my hands on?

[That's an interesting question.]

For the Oracle, yes, I believe so. For Nem-- and no, I'm afraid I haven't heard of any longer name for him. For Nem, I suppose I could find you a pen he has used, but I do not actually know where he lives.

[Hm, the pen might not be significant enough... but it's something, anyway.]

Good. I can't guarantee results, but I might be able to do something with that towards finding them. Where should I go?

Anything is better than nothing. In this rain, I'm afraid I'm next to useless at tracking. You can meet me at the Vault of Knowledge, if you know where that is.

I think I do, but I'll give you a call if I get lost. See you soon, hopefully.

[log/action/handwave?]

(('sup to you! I'm cool to continue, if you are, action here is fine. though even if we handwave, we'll hafta ask PG if she manages to find anything))

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Second Howl [Audio, Saturday morning]

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