Mar 24 21:03:10 109 PA - Trying to Follow a Micro-Rift
From Chronicles
Mar 24 21:03:10 109 PA.
IVORY LADY BASEMENT
It's around nine in the evening, and construction continues at the Ivory Lady. Holes are patched, new furniture is being brought in, everything's getting a makeover. There are a number of workers busy around the place, but for the moment the vast majority of them are outdoors. Gabriel can be found inside at the bar counter going over a mound of paperwork, or at least would be paperwork if it had not been partially supplanted by a small PDA device. As is custom for him during the nighttime hours, he's wearing his environmental armor with the helmet popped off but within easy reach.
Leonard arrives via the doorway, as an invitee. The establishment may not be open for entertainment, but he is here for business, not a show. Upon noting the proprietor, which may not be difficult unless he is wearing overalls similar to the other workers, he approaches the bar. "Good evening, Gabriel."
It's not difficult to find Gabriel. That environmental armor as nighttime wear is fairly obvious. He turns to a familiar voice, setting aside a simple pencil and four-function calculator. "Leonard! How're you doing? Come with good news, or ready to work?"
"I come to do as we agreed, which I assume is good news." Leonard chooses (C) all of the above prior to a long survey of the work in progress. "Quite the renovations. Is there any area in particular that you wish me to focus upon?"
Gabriel steps behind the bar, motioning for Leonard to follow. There's an enormous door to pass through, built like a bank vault, then a small set of spiral stairs leading to the basement. "Sure, Leonard. It all happened down here. This is where the standard psi-cola deliveries are made, but I'm not interested in that one yet. I can simply ask the fellow when the club starts up again. It's the one that popped open a few hours after we hit this place that I'm concerned with. Just opened up a tiny hole, spit out an envelope only large enough for a hand-written note." He indicates the area by circling it with his arms.
Leonard follows him past the large door, which receives more than a passing glance, and down the stairs. "Interesting. A micro-rift is not an easy thing to create. The work of a shifter or other inter-dimensional specialist. Unfortunately, they are much more difficult to detect after the fact." He subsequently falls quiet to focus his attention upon the area indicated. Not so much visually as more unusual senses, given that his eyes close in concentration.
Gabriel simply steps back and gives the man his room. As there's nothing that he knows to do to help, quiet is usually a good option.
Quiet is helpful, but only to a point. After several long moments and several pans of his head, Leonard frowns and opens his eyes. "There is no trace left. Too much time passed, too small of a disruption, or the creator made efforts to cover his tracks. Possibly all three."
"Damn," Gabriel mutters under his breath. After a moment of shaking his head, he can only offer, "Well, thanks, Leonard. I appreciate the effort. If you have any other ideas on how to track something like this, I'm all ears. Otherwise, I guess.. I owe you five grand, right?"
"You mentioned regular shipments. If the schedule is known," Leonard notes, "There are several options, one being that I be present for the arrival or departure. An active rift is infinitely easier to study." He then nods, "And, yes, you do."
The club's new manager nods and starts to climb the stairs. "Thanks for trying, Leonard. I'll get payment to you upstairs. Maybe next time you can give me some more information to go on before I throw money at an unsolvable problem. But I appreciate it." Gabriel offers a nod, and then leaves the magician to his own devices. Payment will be waiting upstairs, as promised.
