2012 04 19 The Interrogation Of Orsini

Log Title:
The interrogation of Orsini

Morbius, Phantasm

IC Date:
19 April 2012


Brief Log Summary::
Morbius has a lot of questions for Orsini.


There is no TS in this log::

Post your log::
Chelsea…. Thursday night….April 19th…

Unlike past weeks, the temperatures are pleasant for this New York summer night. The mid 50s when the sun has long gone is quite managable and has inspired those with no obligations for the next day, namely college students, to head out and have fun.

Orsini is not one of those people. The large man, attired in black, rather non-distinctive, clothing has stepped out of his apartment building. The expression upon his face is less than enthused as he starts heading down the street. Hand in pocket, he glances over to a youthful couple as they walk on by, his glance lingers but as he walks past the Tate apartments, he glances towards that doorway instead.

There. Finally. He's out. Predator's instincts surge to the fore as the Living Vampire notes tonight's target has hit the streets. But he must restrain himself, he has not yet decided if the man deserves to become prey, and there is much to learn first. Perched quietly on a rooftop of an apartment across the street, his keen eyes track Orsini as he moves. As the man glances at the young couple, Morbius's lips peel back for a moment. He has fed this week, but not -too- much. Tonight, he -wants- that edge.

Orsini keeps walking, seemingly not having any business to do with the couple or with Mike's apartment building tonight and instead he continues down the street. He doesn't really bother anyone, nor does he slink into the shadows. Instead, he's just taking a stroll. As he comes near the post office, he walks inside. Although well past business hours, the main door is unlocked allowing access to the PO Box areas.

Morbius watches the man, it all seems quite mundane. This part of it, anyway. It may be, but he just needs an opportunity, for the man to make a mistake he won't even know he's making.

Whatever Orsini's doing in the post office takes some time. Perhaps he's the type that likes to read his mail right then and there. Or maybe he's the type who can't remember a simple combination to save his life. Regardless, he takes time. So much so that even with it being after hours, an older man, dressed in an old style suit, a bowler hat, and glasses strolls on in.

Morbius hunkers down a bit, impatience wearing at him somewhat. This? This he loathes. Waiting. Watching. Not acting.

Time passes, and quite likely not helping with Morbius's case of impatience and eventually the door opens, the man in the bowler hat steps out. Pausing at the entry way, he glances in both directions before he changes the direction he's facing, walking away from the direction he approached the post office from. It isn't until the man in the bowler hat is a good ways down the street does Orsini appear at the doorway once more. Also looking in both directions before he starts heading back towards his own apartment building. His coat is opened as he tucks something inside.

. o O(Handoff…you need to be more suspicious, Michael.) Morbius thinks. He glaces towards the way the other man went, but he can only follow one. It isn't as if he can easily get backup for this, so few of his remaining friends have been about as of late.

Bowler hat continues walking off in his own direction while Orsini walks in the other, passing the Tate apartments once more.

Morbius moves again, drifting quickly to the next rooftop. It's amazing how few people look -up-. Then again, his dark costume helps disguise his outline with its fluttering fabric edges.

The trek of the Orsini is not all that amazing or entertaining. Just after he passes the Tate apartment building, he pops into Jack's pub where he manages to grab one of the window seats of the establishment. He proceeds to sit there for some time as he watches the exterior of the apartment building nearby.

Morbius again settles in, he wonders, briefly, how the 'super-heroes' do this sort of thing, lurking about and just -watching- people for potentially hours on end…maybe he should have brought a book.

As Morbius settles in, Orsini appears to be as well. He orders food and takes plenty of time eating it as he continues watching the building. The time goes by slowly for the pair that is watching the man. Pair, including the weightless, scentless, soundless Raven that has appeared atop Morbius's head to watch as well. Well, soundless til he sighs. "He's going to just hang out there all night you know," Phantasm murmurs, ruffling his feathers.

Morbius's head snaps around and he scuttles backwards across the roof, like some loathesome animal before he catches sight of the raven…no scent, he didn't feel it…an illusion? He's seen his share.

The raven holds on rather well despite the body swinging wildly with Morbius's motions. "Oh hey now!" The bird comments, head flicking as he looks down at Morbius from the odd perch, "Just your run of the mill talking raven here. Nothing to be scared of, right?" Hopping to Morbius's shoulder, he reaches a wing out to pat the top of Morbius's hair, that itself having some form of touch to it. "Good vampire. Gooooood." Not actually being within killing range has its perks.

Morbius looks rather irked by the condescension, it shows in his voice, "I am assuming there is some reason for this nuisance behavior?" He huffs softly, more an animal sound, "And you obviously know whom I am observing, and obviously know a bit about him as well." He's looking for clues now, seeing how the strange not-avian replies.

With the lack of bad reaction, the raven goes quiet for a few moments before he hops off of him. "There is." Once off of Morbius's shoulder, the size of the bird is a bit more apparent as the head comes up to the other's knee. "And you're not making it a mystery who you're watching." The bird's head tilts in indication of the window Orsini sits at, "Nor is he."

"Then please, enlighten me." Morbius replies, in a tone calculated to make it seem as if he doubts the creature can do so.

"Well til I let you know I was here, you were flat out staring at Orsini." The bird offers up, setting to fulfill the request, "As for him… The past few nights I've come across this part of Chelsea, he's been sitting there for hours, just looking over at the Tate. Where the rocker lives. And if you've been reading your papers there's a bit of an issue with keeping Mr. Stabbity there in jail." The bird spreads his wings, giving a mock bow, "So you're stalking the stalker."

"That didn't take much deductive skill to realize." Morbius notes dryly, "Besides, it matters little if he tries anything on any particular night. All I require is any opportunity for him to be out of public sight."

"Best you're probably going to get is where ever the hell he lives." The bird replies, shaking his head, "My time usually runs out before he comes anywhere near such a place so, can't help you there." The creature pauses, turning to look at Morbius, "Just what're you going to do to him?"

'Time runs out…' there, that was easy to tease out, wasn't it? A slightly more self-satisfied Living Vampire replies to the bird, obliquely, "And do you have a name, creature?" he asks before going on, "I have not decided yet. Information first, the rest…depends."

"Phantasm works." The bird supplies, names being needed for talking. He glances towards the pub window, "So, what information are you looking for?"

"The simplest and yet more complex of questions, of course," the scientist answers, "'Why?'."

The bird gives a smile, quite uncharacteristic for the beak that displays it, nor does it seem the cheerful type but more of the, being polite for the sake of the conversation. "Because, when I'm out, this is MY area to watch. And if something is about to happen. I want to know about it."

Morbius waves that off, "Not that, 'Phantasm'," he says, "'Why' referring to Orsini, to wit: why has he targeted the young Mr. Drago. To what end does he follow him? And then, the 'how' of his legal escapes."

The bird pauses, considering the questions. "Far as I know, the last time he was even close to the kid was when he ID'ed Orsini to Sandman outside Club Boom Boom. Kid's aware he's been following around so this is about as close as he probably gets now. Staff to his building's clued in on to what Orsini looks like so not much chance of him getting in without someone noticing. Plus you have the tag alongs in the car down the street watching the building too. So, Orsini's probably aware of them." The bird shrugs his shoulders, "Don't know the 'why'. Kind of figure someone's pulling his strings but don't know who. Seems to be getting his postcards from the art museum, though he doesn't seem the artsy type. As for the legal stuff. Ask that dickhead lawyer of his." The head cocks, "So, why the interest in the whys?" Why why why?

"It's become a bit…easier for me to extract information as of late." Morbius admits, though he doesn't explain the hows or whys of it, "So I will simply find out who the puppetmaster is and if he is, indeed, who I theorize it might be."


"Do not start," Morbius says with a mild tone of warning, "One of my graduate students tried that once." he emphasizes the last word, "Once I can determine who pulls Orsini's strings and -why- Orsini let them be pulled, well -" he raises one finger, "- motive will reveal itself."

At the warning the bird tilts his head, "I meant, why are you so interested in all of this." Phantasm clarifies, "and who are you thinking it is that's playing Gepetto?"

Morbius says nothing for a long moment as he eyes the 'bird', "And why are you interested in my motives, Phantasm?" he asks instead, "And potentially, an enemy of the elder Drago…or, failing that, Drago himself. Note that the singer did -not- die…physical threats and assault can be a means to control and guide behavior."

Phantasm doesn't answer Morbius's question and instead becomes quiet, the beads of the eyes narrow upon the purplish black face before the bird looks back towards the pub window. "Probably the first one then. I don't think the other makes sense with the other attacks."

Morbius laughs, "Those 2 actually have something big in common. Religion and soul-crushing guilt."

Again, the scientist finds he has surprised this being with his own questions. He is beginning to think this being may have a human, or at least very humanlike mind - it doesn't act like a supernatural being, there are 'tells' many of them have, an alien viewpoint. "Regardless, once that is known, working up the chain becomes a viable option."

"Hmm. Never did say why you're so interested in all of this." The bird grows quiet, watching as Orsini tugs out an envelope from the inside of his coat pocket to retrieve cash. "Looks like he's heading out early tonight." His head turns to look towards Morbius, "Time for the tail parade to start."

"And you've not said who or what you might be when ypu're not being…this." Morbius ventures a guess, interested in the result of that question, "So he is, perhaps luck is with us, hm?"

"That's a simple one." Phantasm replies, matter of factly, "When I'm not being this. I'm not being anything, and if you want anything else from me, you really will have to give me a why to your whys." That said, the bird hops on top of Morbius's head again, seemingly ready to ride the vampire to wherever he's going. The one blessing to this is that he doesn't seem to have any weight to him anymore.

After Orsini settles his bill and puts the envelope back inside his jacket, he heads out of the pub, and starts to head towards his own apartment. As Orsini gets some distance away, just down the street, a car starts inching down the street. BLATANT.

"Persistant." Morbius notes, not -quite- believing the bird…another hint though, a projection? Perhaps, but there's no way to yet be sure, "I did not request your aid, or interference -" he notes, but then, after a moment, "Do you know my history, then?" He begins to move, staying low, the shadows are his instinctive hiding spots, the car? Tsk…"amateurish…" he notes quietly, "Then again, they might just be planning on killing him now."

The bird shakes his head, an image that's likely easier to see if he wasn't sitting on Morbius's head, "I don't go around memorizing everyone's life histories. Do know you have an odd diet."

Orsini's steps do not quicken, nor does he slow down either. But if he does know of the car following him, it's likely notable by his walking past his own building. Hand slipping into a pocket, the large man frowns as he soon ducks into a narrow alleyway.

Morbius gives a very short version, considering he is now actively on the move, "I was…for a time…uncontrolled, my condition left me with little of my mind. I have killed…many people who did not deserve it. Now, my mind is mostly my own and I have vowed to feed only upon the guilty, those who -deserve- death. This situation with Drago, with Orsini, I feel that there are many such who will deserve to be my prey involved…" he's not saying everything, it seems.

"Oh so this is more you looking for an all you can eat buffet." Phantasm shakes his head, "Unfortunately, I don't think I can let you do that while I'm around. Not here." His head cranes, looking to see Orsini darting down one alleyway, one conveniently not wide enough for a car to go through. Upon him scaling a small fence Orsini seems to backtrack, taking the back entrance to his apartment building. This, does not seem to go over well with the Raven. "Oh you've got to be kidding me. Really?"

"Oh do give me a -little- credit," Morbius says in an annoyed manner, "I am -hardly- some ravening monster." . o O(Now.) he adds, mentally, "It is about my survival, but also about the acts themselves. If I -must- hunt, then finding the targets who will do the most good by their removal is the most moral choice." His eyes narrow as he watches Orsini, "Of course," he hisses, "clumsy pursuit. Hold on-" he takes to the air in that moment, meaning to head over the top of the building, the most direct route, to see if he can come down the side fast enough to catch Orsini before he can get in…"

At the command, there's the sensation of talons that weren't there before wrapping around several locks of Morbius's hair. As they make their descent, the wings spread in reaction, causing for another tug of Morbius's hair before the raven thinks better of it, folding the wings back in. "Ever considered just paying off someone in a morgue to hook you up with a drink?" He murmurs halfway down to the ground.

Gravity is quite the friend with speed as Orsini only has the door partway open when Morbius reaches his area. But the sight of the pale monstrousity is enough for Orsini's eyes to widen and his heart to race. After he gets over his shock, Orsini tries to open the door the rest of the way to get in to percieved safety. Oh shit Oh shit Oh shit…

Morbius hisses softly in response…he's growing weary of that type of question. With the air of someone who has answered such many times before, "The tissue must be living, the chemicals used in banked blood are toxic in the quantities I require, now hush."

As he reaches Orsini's position he ignores the man, one hand reaching out to instead grab for the door handle, not concerned with grabbing it, but to get Orsini to bolt -away- from it.

The beak closes at the 'request' but based from the eyes narrowing, the bird does want to say more. As he grows silent, the feeling of his presence on top of Morbius's head fades as well. There's a flicker of shadow elsewhere off to the background, but it's uncertain as to what from the barest of glimpses.

As Morbius's hands reach the door handle, it does have the effect as intended as the large man's hands move away from the door and his body soon does as well, heading away from the vampire but soon stumbling over something in the shadow.

Morbius lands, his body dropping instintively into a deep crouch, muscles tensing to spring, long gone is the Nobel-winning biochemist, a monster crouches there, but for tonight, one driven by a mind focused on justice…or what tattered version of it he can muster. As Orsini stumbles, Morbius pauses, thin lips not quite closing over his fangs. He begins to rise, surmising what may have happened, and that this has suddenly gotten even easier…

As Morbius straightens, the fabric of Orsini's jacket shifts as something unseen pushes him from behind, working to propel the stumbling motion into something more fruitful. Momentum wins out over foot placement and Morbius's prey lands upon the ground. The indentions of large bird footprints appear upon the jacket as Orsini finds himself having trouble getting up.

The Living Vampire strides over to where the man flounders, his crimson eyes moving down, seeking his target's, "I suggest you stop stuggling…" he intones in his awful, rasping voice, as he does, he tenatively begins to engage his mesmeric abilities, he wants Orsini to look into his eyes at his words, it seems to be much easier to establish that way, it is but one target, Morbius can devote his full measure of concentration to the task…but still…it is strange and new, the help from Phantasm is actually beneficial as he struggles with this bizarre twist in his mutation.

Orsini tries to roll over, an arm swinging back to bat at whatever it is that's holding him down. One of the prints vanish before Orsini's arm gets pushed to one direction accompanied by what could be characterized as a hiss of pain from the man. The large man's eyes squint shut as he finally rolls to his back, his other hand grasping the wrist of the arm that had moved around. There's a tiny dot of red forming on the back of the hand, giving off a scent that Morbius should easily recognize.

As for the raven. He's no where in sight.

Morbius's nostrils flare in his flattened nose at the scent…not now…perhaps…later, his tongue flicks out to touch the tip of one fang, as noted, he has fed, but not overmuch, "Look at me, Mr. Orsini, and you -might- live to see the sunrise. I have questions, and little patience."

The grimacing thug stops moving around, one eye cautiously opening to glance towards Morbius, the appearance of the exposed fang is less than encouraging to open the other. He's quiet for a few moments, collecting himself before he responds, other eye opening, "What…" Orsini starts, "Do you want from me?"

"Answers." Morbius replies simply, and finds what he seeks…it's the oddest sensation, he cannot read minds, but he can -feel- them as his own will pushes outwards into another…

As Morbius's will pushes forward, the general stubborness that Orsini had built up is moved back, giving way to the stronger influence. The man frowns, but continues looking to Morbius, "Answers to what?"

"Mick Drago. The musician." Morbius snaps, "Why?" he asks, knowing full well that Phantasm must still be nearby.

If Phantasm is nearby, he is certainly making himself scarce as there's not even a sound to indicate to where he may be. As far as it looks, to the senses right now, it is just Morbius and Orsini behind the building. There's a twitch of Orsini's lips at the mention of the name. "Because that's what was asked," he replies simply, cracking a borderline smile, seemingly pleased with being able to answer this one, "Saint George's opening move."

"The dragonslayer." The mutated scientist notes coldly, "That's it, isn't it?"

"Dragonslayers." Orsini corrects.

Morbius's lips curl up in a dark smile, how intriguing, "The elder Drago, is he their true target? Are they using the son to get at him, or is there some other motive?"

There's a pause at that as Orsini processes the question, "Elder?" He pauses, shaking his head, "There are lots of targets when dealing with a den of Dragons."

Morbius's brow furrows at the strangeness of the reply, "Savio Drago. Mick Drago's father." he speaks slowly, trying to make this simpler, less difficult for the man's obviously somewhat fractured mind to grasp, "They are two. Are there more dragons in this nest?" a horrible suspicion is rising in his mind.

"Oh the kitchen's full of dragons." Orsini replies, giving a nod, "One larger than the others but they're all just as bad."

Morbius makes a soft sound or irritation, "Names. You know names. Give them to me." he demands.

"Saint George, Cadmus, Saint Michael, Apollo, Saint Margaret, and Gabriel." Orsini pauses, seemingly trying to recall something before shaking his head, "There's another one but, I don't know what he's called."

Morbius hisses, his irritation rising, "The DRAGONS." he commands, "Mick Drago. Savio Drago. Who are the others."

The question doesn't get immediately answered. As Orsini just looks blankly at Morbius, the frown deepens as he tries to process the question, "Each slayer has a dragon. I'm just one of the swords."

Morbius starts to understand…an organization, working against this family, each agent a cell unto himself, to prevent just this from happening, "Clever…" he muses quietly, stroking his goatee, "Where and when do you receive your orders? From whom?" he pauses, then adds, "Are you to slay Mick, or simply use him as bait for Savio?"

Orsini shakes his head, "Neither. I just watch and report to Gabriel now. He's the messenger. I won't know where to meet him until he contacts me."

Morbius hrrrrmphs…dismissive, the sound of a predator losing interest in his prey, "A tool. Little more. How -much- misery you have caused for being so uninvolved." he adds, "Filth. Your crimes are barely even your own." his tone is growing dangerously unsympathetic.

"Filth…" Orsini repeats, seemingly fixating on the word, shaking his head, "No. Not anymore." Despite the presence of the dangerous tone, it seems to embolden Orsini, as he continues giving his own answers, "I'm cleaning it up."

Morbius seems to shift tactics now, whoever is behind this is clever, so he must be more subtle, "When and where did Gabriel last contact you? The last 2 times? And how?"

Just a few hours ago in the post office." Orsini answers, still looking towards Morbius from his vantage point on the ground, "and a couple weeks ago at the park. I get a postcard with a location and time on it. He'll show up there if he's sure things aren't off, other times he'll cancel."

Morbius's eyes slit somewhat at this as he thinks…making sure he keeps his concentration on Orsini at the same time as he does so, "Phantasm…I know you are there. Speak." his tone is still somewhat commanding.

"What? I'm a dog now?" Phantasm's voice perks up, rigt next to Morbius's ear. The unseen companion apparently taking rest upon Morbius's shoulder during this whole discussion with Orsini. He pauses before a rather sarcastic 'Woof' is soon let out as well.

Orsini blinks, looking away from Morbius as he tries to locate the second voice.

"Do NOT lose focus." Morbius orders the man. Honestly, this new ability suits his domineering personality. He gets a better handle on it and 'pushes' outwards again. He can sense it again, not thoughts, but the presence of another mind as he gets his hooks deeper into it, bending it to his will. To his little guest he adds, "You obviously have questions, ask them." then to Orsini, "You will answer him when he does so."

Phantasm hrms, "Questions… Questions." He pauses, sorting through what's been covered and what hasn't been. "Alright. Who hooked you up with that lawyer who keeps getting you off?"

The command from the vampire brings Orsini back to looking towards Morbius. As the instructions become clear, he gives the slightest of nods, although, not quite sure where the questions will come from until the voice speaks up. "If you do not take care of the weapons, they can no longer help you in your cause."

Morbius muses, "Obviously these 'Dragonslayers' are organized, a near-cult it seems. How did you first meet the 'slayers?" he asks Orsini.

As he's asked to recount the first timehe's met the slayers, Orsini gives a slight reminiscent smile before shaking his head. "When I was at the halfway house, Gabriel came to me. He said, there was going to be a war and that I would be useful." Considering the uptick to his voice in recounting this despite him having a bleeding hand near a rather ticked off vampire, this appears to be a happy memory.

There's a few moments of quiet after Orsini answers that Phantasm speaks up. "This." He comments, response rather dryly, "Explains much."

Morbius says, almost dismissive now, "A pawn. Weak and easily used, but not unskilled. So now…now we find his handler." his reddish eyes turn to Orsini again, "When is your next meeting? Do you know?"

Orsini shakes his head. "Not until I get another postcard." This gets a bit of a disappointed sound from the unseen Phantasm in reaction, before Orsini adds to this, "When I need to do something else."

Morbius's jaw sets, he has figured this out, "Then you will listen to me, VERY CAREFULLY. When you next receive a postcard, you will leave a note on the public board at that PO box. It will be addressed to: Crow. It will list only the time and place of the next meeting. Nothing else." He wants this to be simple, he doesn't chance that a buried directive be pervertable.

Orsini's eyes remain upon Morbius's, not refusing the instructions but not confirming it either.

"Raven." Phantasm corrects, somewhat irritably, "RAVEN."

"Deal with it." Morbius says flatly, but there's a hint of dark amusement in his tone nevertheless, "Orsini. YOU. WILL. DO. THIS. THING." he intones, 'pushing' as hard as he is able. He wants to command to take hold immediately after the trigger, less chance of resistance, "Then you will forget you left the note."

The man upon the ground is quiet despite the protests of the unseen bird. As Morbius reaches the end of his command he blinks, then nods in confirmation.

"You're about as bad as Ares," Phantasm mutters.

"An intriguing notion, the existence of the gods of the stories of my youth." Morbius notes softly, "Ares, exceeding in strength, chariot-rider, golden-helmed, doughty in heart, shield-bearer, Saviour of cities, harnessed in bronze, strong of arm, unwearying, mighty with the spear, O defender of Olympus. But enough of that now…" he turns his attention to Orsini one final time, "Now…forget you saw us. You stumbled and fell, annoyed at your lack of attention, but your devotion to Gabriel buoyed your mood soon after." He steps back, beginning to drift skyward, to his passanger he remarks, "You've not told me of -your- interest in this matter."

"He's also a stubborn asshole." Phantasm supplies to Morbius's general description to Ares as they leave Orsini where he lies. Phantasm grows silent as Morbius inquires about his own interest in the bit with Orsini, "I've already told you. Chelsea's my area. I want to know what goes on in it."

Abandoned, Orsini blinks, starting to push himself up from the ground. Giving a hiss, he looks to his bleeding hand and murmurs a few obscenities of his own before he seems to perk up and head inside.

Morbius isn't quite buying it, no moreso than he is buying that this creature is merely some spirit, but he lets it go, "So we have a cult, a cult arrayed against this Drago family - which is larger than we knew. This is more than some turf war, it seems."

"Or we have a guy with a flair for the dramatic pulling Orsini's strings." Phantasm comments, pretty much just hitching a ride with Morbius as he eventually becomes the visible bird he was at first, "It'll be hard to confirm it is a big group just based off of one guy's disjointed ramblings."

Morbius replies, "So we wait to find this 'Gabriel' and ask him directly…" after a moment he adds, "And we shall then see who is really behind this and how far it goes." the thought of a conspiracy is unsettling.

The bird nods, "…Which post office was he going to?"

Morbius notes the address, and files away the fact that this creature is obviously far from omniscent.

"Alright." With that, the bird flies off.

Yes. WITHOUT asking Morbius how to contact him. That jerk.

Morbius hmmphs softly, "Troublesome, yet vaguely useful. And there is more than he's telling." The Living Vampire turns, heading back towards his home…tonight was fruitful, he still retains enough stability in his syetm for his serum to work for tomorrow…but tomorrow evening, he knows, he will have to hunt again.

And somewhere in his building, Orsini's feeling an inexplicable sense of relief.

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