It begins on an October night, under a gibbous Innsmouth moon. The air carries the reek from the fishmarket in Elliot Street, mixed with a hint of tainted ocean water.
From his perch behind the crime scene tape, I can see Lord surrounded by a ring of crushed cigarette butts. A cloud of cheap tobacco smoke is pouring out of his mouth, streaming out of his nose. Neon light filters through it, sends shifting, vague shadows that roll across the stiff's ashen skin.
I look at the dead man splayed out on the ground just a few steps away from Lord, focus on the stuttering rainbow that dances across his mended pinstripe suit, his crushed Homburg hat. There's a dark spot with strips of white standing out where his left side use to be. His jaw hangs open, tongue laying across his lips like a dead slug. As if on cue, a fat old momma fly lands on his wide-open eye and does the jitterbug.
"Swamp Yank weather," Lord calls out, gives me one of his trademark shit-eating grins.
1. [[What happened here, Jackson? -> Lay it on me, Jackson]]
2. [[CS come by yet? -> CS come by yet?]]
3. [[Lovely weather we're having -> Nice night for a submarine race]]
4. [[Let's rip that bandaid -> Conversation Ends, 0 points]]-+1 point-
(Lord turns to look at Freddie, but not for long, before turning away. He doesn't seem like he can stomach it)
"Stiff used to be Fred Muntz, local crook. He'd do odd jobs for the Marshes, but nothing too fancy. Guess they didn't trust him with money and I can't say I blame them. Dude was a major sponge. And a fish-stick."
(Lord takes another puff from his carette and gives Stanton a knowing look)
1.[[Finally got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, huh?-> Cookie Jar]]
2.[[What the hell's a fish stick?-> Let's talk setting deets]]
3.[[We best get to it-> Conversation Ends, 0 points]] -0 points-
(Lord looks at you, leaning back against the crates, looking bored)
"No CS, no photographers, not even any spare patrol cars. Just us city boys, free to freeze our dicks off."
1. [[When was this phoned in? -> When was this phoned in?]]
2. [[What happened here, Jackson? -> Lay it on me, Jackson]]
3. [[Lovely weather we're having -> Nice night for a submarine race]]
4. [[Let's get this over with -> Conversation Ends, 0 points]] -+1 point-
(Lord scoffs, eyebrows raised, then takes a puff from his cigarette)
"Detective, if I had a swimsuit, I'd just lay on my back and let the rain drag me out onto the ocean.
"Shit, if I hadn't had the hots for an Arkham girl, I might have never even had to come up here. If my daddy knew I'd end up with a Dutch woman, he'd be spinning in his grave."
1.[[It ain't so bad, Lord... -> Keep shooting the shit]]
2.[[What's happened here, Jackson? -> Lay it on me, Jackson]]
3.[[CS come by yet? -> CS come by yet?]]
4.[[Right, off to work -> Conversation Ends, 0 points]]-0-4 points-
"Be my guest, Detective"
(Lord gives you a big old shit-eating grin)-+1 point-
(Lord nods, start talking in an animated manner, gesticulating before finally daring another look back at Freddie)
"Local PD used Freddie as an informant, ever since they'd picked him up for carting smack for the Marshes. Every time they'd step out of line, we'd haul his skinny ass to the station, give him the once over, get some names and deeds.
"Got so bad, Freddie even started showing up unannounced. He'd even prep statements, hand them over before we'd even had time to slap the cuffs on him. Guess the rest of the lowlifes finally caught on."
1. [[Sounds like a piece of work -> Freddie the Idiot]]
2. [[What the hell's a fish-stick? -> Let's talk setting deets]]
3. [[Let's get on with it -> Conversation Ends, 0 points]] -+1 point-
(Lord grins at you evilly)
"Freddie Muntz was into Drownies, Detective. Word was, he'd known some of them, what in the biblical sense.
"Now don't look at me like that. More perverts under the sun than you can swing a stick at.
"Hell, when I was stationed back in Newport, we'd trawl the shoreline to round up the perverts. Drag them across the sand even as their eyes rolled back and they moaned as they let go in their pants.
"Soon as they came down from their high in the squad cars though, they'd be wailing. They say you can't go back, not after you've had Drownie."
1.[[Jesus wept, that's disgusting -> More setting stuff]]
2.[[Just...let's talk something else, okay? -> Lay it on me, Jackson]]
3.[[Lovely weather we're having -> Nice night for a submarine race]]
4.[[Let's get this over with -> Conversation Ends, 0 points]] -+1 point-
(Lord looks at you, looking pissed, before breaking into a halfway contented smile)
"Freddie, you see, he thought he was going places. Climbing up the ranks. 'Cutting down the poppies' he used to call it. Talk to him for five minutes and you'd think he was the Don of Massachussets.
"'Cept the Marshes wouldn't let him nowhere near their little country club and not even pimps would give him credit."
1. [[You think the Marshes did this? -> Marsh payback ]]
2. [[What the hell's a fish-stick? -> Let's talk setting deets]]
3. [[Lovely weather we're having -> Nice night for a submarine race]]
4. [[Let's get this done, why don't we? -> Conversation Ends, 0 points]] -+1 point-
"Wouldn't put it past them. Freddie had done them plenty wrong. But set the damn dogs on him?
(Lord pauses, looks over Stanton's shoulder at the corpse and takes a long drag from his cigarette before throwing it down)
"Nobody deserves that, you know?"
1 [[You think they let their animals loose on him? -> Freddie Theory]]
2.[[What the hell's a fish-stick? -> Let's talk setting deets]]
3.[[Lovely weather we're having -> Nice night for a submarine race]]
4.[[Let's get this over with -> Conversation Ends, 0 points]] -+1 point-
(Lord pauses, then slowly turns to you, looking almost ashen at the thought. When he looks back at Freddie, he waves his hand away, dismissively)
"It's either that or the tall tale option: three good men and an old pine tree with a handful of nails and a trusty hammer.
"Used to be, the old Marshes would nail the tip of a man's insides on the trunk and have him wrap himself around it. Old injun trick the Natives picked up from Leif Eriksen, right before they kicked his ass off the continent.
"My guess is some traditionalists tried that with Freddie, then lost their nerve when they realized Obadaiah Marsh would give them hell when he found out, so they dumped the stiff a ways from the scene of the crime."
1. [[That's one way of looking at it -> What's the skinny, Lord?]]
2. [[CS come by yet? -> CS come by yet?]]
3. [[Lovely weather we're having -> Nice night for a submarine race]]
4. [[Right. Let's get this over with -> Conversation Ends, 5 points]] -+1 for the first 3 tries, no bonues after that-
(Random response whenever you pick this option)
"Hear some drifters are being restless. Can't blame them, what with winter coming."
"We got this flower child in jail the other day; was tripped out of his skull, screaming nonsense. Strangest thing though, his bloodwork came back clean."
"That fat fuck Cumming's been rifling through my lunchbox again. Gonna pin the fucker soon."
"You think they ever catch anything? Those weirdos, casting lines over at the Devil's Reeef?"
"God, the smell of this fucking place. Reminds me of Newport."-5 points-
(Lord tosses his cigarette, crushes it under his heel)
"Fuckin' A, I'm freezing my ass off. Pardon my French."-0 points-
(Lord looks over at the corpse, takes a drag from his cigarette and puffs out two long streams from his nostrils)
"Been about two hours but you'd think it was longer, by the smell. Concerned citizen called, didn't bother with the name. I hate to assume, but my guess is the local boys decided to stick us with the shit detail and to hell with the rest."
1. [[Any witnesses? -> Any witnesses?]]
2. [[What's happened here, Jackson? -> Lay it on me, Jackson]]
3. [[Lovely weather we're having -> Nice night for a submarine race]]
4. [[Let's get this over with -> Conversation Ends, 0 points]] --1 points-
(Lord looks at you annoyed, then flicks his cigarette out into the rain)
"Nobody sticks around for the Man with a stiff to keep them company, Detective. Big city man like you oughtta know better."
1. [[What's that supposed to mean? -> Conversation Ends, Failure]]
2. [[What's happened here, Jackson? -> Lay it on me, Jackson]]
3. [[Lovely weather we're having -> Nice night for a submarine race]]
4. [[Let's get this over with -> Conversation Ends, 0 points]] --1 points or lower-
(Lord looks away and starts to roll another cigarette, doesn't bother talking to you again)-+1 point-
(Lord shrugs, then waggles his cigarette like a magic wand, teasing)
"Detective, it's late October all the way till June over here, Spring lasts for a goddamn fortnight and all the hotties walk with a limp. I don't know how they raise you over in Norfolk, but in Indiana, we got standards.
"Until we don't, on account of us getting hitched like damn fools with the first girl that lets us see her tighties, if you know what I mean."
1. [[What happened here, Jackson? -> Lay it on me, Jackson]]
2. [[CS come by yet? -> CS come by yet?]]
3. [[Any news, Lord? -> What's the skinny, Lord?]]
4. [[Right then. Off to work... -> Conversation Ends, 0 points]] -+1 points-
(Lord fixes you with his stare, his eyes slowly dirfting to a thousand-yard gaze, as if recealling something awful that he once heard)
"That's people, Detective. Back in my daddy's day, a white gal had to be crazy to lay with a black man, never mind marry him. But I guess the Drownies changed all that, didn't they? Wierded us all out so bad we went colorblind.
"You ever seen those photos they put out from Hanga Roa, back when it happened? The Drowned City, all dripping with sea water, the ocean so thick with Drownies it looked like it were boiling?
"They say they ate their God, dig? When they ran outta food?
"Goes to show piety ain't worth shit on an empty stomach."
1.[[There aren't any Drownies in New England, Jackson -> Final setting deet]]
2.[[Lay it on me, Lord -> Lay it on me, Jackson]]
3.[[CS come by yet? -> CS come by yet?]]
4.[[What's the skinny, Lord? -> What's the skinny, Lord?]]-+1 point-
(Lord pauses, flicks the ashes from his cigarette and gives you the once-over, flashing you a knowing smile)
"Ain't no Drownies in New England -yet- Detective.
"But you seen that Hado Basilisk the Arkham mayor's been seen riding around in, haven't you? Trippy little number, that one. And you seen the things they print on the papers, the kind of stuff they talk about on the radio dramas.
"Soon as they've got their land feet, they're gonna start waddling over, Detective. You're gonna see them setting up their coral, reaching out across the Big Empty like blood trailing down a busted nose.
"Soon enough, shit's gonna be real gone, even in little old Innsmouth."
1. [[ Lay it on me, Jackson -> Lay it on me, Jackson]]
2. [[What's the skinny, Lord? -> What's the skinny, Lord?]]
3. [[Right then: hands off cocks and on with socks -> Conversation ends, success]] -6 points and up-
(Lord smile at you, crushes his cigarette and turns to Freddie's corpse)
"Ain't that just the bee's knees."