8659/Mr Livingston I presume

Mr Livingston I presume
Date of Scene:	12 November 2021
Location:	Roland's Penthouse
Synopsis:	Roland has an unannounced guest. Then he has invited guests to undo the damage.
Cast of Characters:	Roland Livingston, Joan Wright

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Roland Livingston has posed:
The penthouse is a mess. Roland finds himself seated on a rolling desk chair, one of the few pieces of furniture still in one piece in his domicile. Everything else, pretty much, has been shattered as if a train got loose in the building. The front door is still intact, but the owner has just left it open for the time being, seeing as how he's here and awaiting the arrival of a construction crew to fix things up. The laptop computer on the folding table next to him that he'd found somewhere has a floor plan of the home pulled up on it, in addition to a handful of pictures of the finished project. Before the destruction.

On the walls are a variety of weapons and antiques. One might note that the arms all look serviceable, but there are a few clearly missing from certain areas. That may be because they're strewn about the place. Maces and hammers, some with broken hafts, are just left on the floor with the other debris.

The fancy rugs on the floor are, at minimum, mussed up and folded atop themselves somewhat. Some are mostly shredded. The couch has been split into two pieces down the middle as if a rampaging bull decided it needed to be two couches. The dining table, glass and clearly expensive, is now a couple of legs and frame standing with knocked over or destroyed dining chairs around it. The kitchen looks like a bomb went off in it.

Rather strangely, amidst all the broken furniture there's a great deal of concrete or rock. Considering the floors and walls are wood and the ceilings appear unscathed it may stick out to someone especially perceptive.

From the main area one can see a hallway leading off to the side and a powder room. They appear to have been unaffected by whatever happened. Some of the large, plexiglass windows to the apartment, on the other hand, have been busted out.

Joan Wright has posed:
Over towards the elevator there's the slight glimpse of light rising between the small vertical crack of the dual doors. Instead of the expected visual of light fading one would expect from one of the lower floors, the visual remains, waiting. For a few moments nothing occurs other than the muted bing from within the cab.

The doors whrr open giving a glimpse of a small crew within. Up front, a brown haired woman looks to the floor number, nods quietly, and hits the button for the lobby before stepping out. It appears not everyone could fit in just for this one. stepping out, she and the others in the elevator are dressed to work. Hard hats, goggles, and other forms of safety gear are adorned upon them as they move with purpose to the open door. After confirming the number, the woman peers in, "Mr. Livingston, I presume?"

One of he larger men behind her winces at the greeting.

Roland Livingston has posed:
When he gets the 'I presume' greeting the Englishman grins broadly and nods his head at the newcomers, rising up from his chair to approach so that he can meet them, "Call me Roland. How do you do?" As he speaks it's with an easily noticeable upper class English accent.

A hand is extended so that anyone who wishes to may shake it, "Terribly sorry about making a mess, but sometimes these things can't be avoided." There's a gesture towards some of the rocky rubble on the floor, "Uninvited guests just didn't want to leave when I asked them politely. Made things quite difficult." A foot kicks at a warhammer with a broken haft.

Joan Wright has posed:
With the confirmation that her guess was correct, Joan gives a small, polite, and somewhat relieved smile. "Well- Roland," Joan responds, applying the requested name to the greeting, "We are doing just fine." She crosses the threshold, moving to the side to allow the rest of the team to come in as well. "-and we're going to make sure you are as well."

She steps forward carefully, minding what's on the floor before taking a look to the plexiglass windows, the frame work and scanning for outlets along that side. "And messes are a given if there's need to call us in so no worries on that." Coming to a stop she looks over to the owner. "Well, Roland. What about the encounter with the guest can you tell us about?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
"A rather large gargoyle, monster made of stone and all that, smashed through one of the windows to get in here," Roland starts explaining as he points out one of the busted out windows. "I was on the couch, reading, when the beast decided to try to claw me to pieces. I dodged out of the way so that my couch was the only casualty." Then he nods his head towards the dining table, "The gargoyle proceeded to chase me. I made the jump over the table so I could grab the mace on the other side of it and the monster jumped onto and through the glass surface. He got a little stuck then, so I was able to bash it with the mace a few times, chipping some of him off." Rubble is pointed out next. It looks like a pointed ear, resembling that of a wolf.

With a little chuckle, "When the mace broke I ran to get another, cutting through the kitchen. The beast followed me and I think it got stuck between my counter and the island because he just started smashing things. By the time I'd armed myself and returned to give him another thumping it was as bad as you can see now."

The young man seems to have no problem playing tour guide as he steps over and around various messes, "We fought across the rest of the room. My reclining chairs were used as projectiles by the gargoyle, who was strong enough to bend the frame around one of the windows by throwing the furniture through it in an attempt to squash me. My television was hurled like a discus." He gestures to where a TV is sticking out of one of the interior walls. "Eventually I broke enough of the thing off that it decided to retreat. I'd have pursued it but it had wings and could fly quite fast. As I'm incapable of flight myself I had to watch it go. That's the second time the damn thing's come for me, too. Usually whatever attacks me ends up dead, but I just couldn't do damage to it fast enough." There's a frown on his face at that statement. "I just wish I knew where its lair is so I could destroy it while it's recovering. Bring a jackhammer to bear against it, perhaps. Or some high caliber firearms."

Joan Wright has posed:
As Roland goes through the order in which things happen, Joan's eyes follow around the room to look to the items being described. "That does sound like a heck of an evening," Joan replies, looking towards the windows once more. "Too bad he couldn't have kept the window damage to just the one he entered in through. Our first priority of course will be to take care of the perimeter so this area remains sound and loses the wind tunnel effect." She indicates towards the windows. "Are you planning to stay elsewhere tonight or on location?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
"It was rather exciting," Roland replies with the hint of a smile. "I like to live an interesting life, but I'd vastly prefer it if the interesting stayed outside of my home." Then he looks around, "I'll get a room at the Ritz tonight, I think, unless you'd prefer that I stay around for some reason. I've got my laptop open there with the original floorplan for the penthouse and some pictures from when I first got it set the way I like it." Then he pauses, "Perhaps it would be best if I stayed here tonight, in case the gargoyle returns. I'll make sure I'm ready for it."

Joan Wright has posed:
"While I appreciate the consideration regarding the gargoyle problem. It may be better for you to stay at the Ritz for tonight." She gestures torwards the windows. "That will allow for us to get your place back in proper order at a quicker rate."

Her head turns, looking over towards the laptop, "I also appreciate the effort. Are any of the plans different from what would be currently filed away with the most recent building permit?"

She reaches into her pocket, pulling out her phone, "Any non-permitted work done? Any items that are not easily replacable?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Everything should be as is on the building permits," the young guy says with a nod. "I think everything that's broken I can purchase again or have insurance cover, if they cover monster attacks and that sort of thing." There's a long look around in case he's forgetting something. "I don't believe so, at any rate. One of the warhammers was quite ancient, but the pick didn't dull much and only the haft broke so I'll be able to repair it." Then he shrugs his shoulders, "I think that may be it."

Joan Wright has posed:
"Alright." Joan replies, smile a bit stronger, "Well, we do have our work cut out for us. But I'm going to ask for you to move someplace more comfortable in the meantime."

She brings up the keypad on her screen and offers it over to Roland, "Please type the number we can best reach you in there."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Certainly," Roland says, quickly entering his number. Then he smiles, "Thank you very much for coming by so promptly and getting to work right away. I appreciate it." Then he says, "Allow me to get my bag from my room and then I'll get out of your hair."

Joan Wright has posed:
"It is what we do, Roland. The quicker we move, the quicker people can pick up where they left off." Joan takes the phone back and hits the dial button. "Okay, your phone should have my number now as well in case you have any questions or concerns."

As Roland goes to get his bag, she looks curiously over towards the scattered weapons curiously before using her phone again to text a few contacts regarding the needs of the penthouse.

Roland Livingston has posed:
When his phone buzzes Roland pulls it from his pocket and glances at it before swiping on the keypad a few times to make sure the number is saved, "Thank you. I'll be sure to let you know if I have any special concerns." Then he's off down the hallway to the bedrooms. A few moments later he's carrying a duffel bag. It's quite full of stuff, including some solid items that are visible through the cloth and jingles slightly as he walks with it. Despite appearing heavy the Englishman carries it with ease. "Well, I'll leave you to your work. Contact me if you need anything at all."

Joan Wright has posed:
Joan nods, lowering her phone for a moment as Roland comes back into the room. The heavy set nature of the duffel being carried isn't lost on her and she is mildly impressed of the sheer amount of items needed for a single night stay. But then again, some clients likely don't want certain... items lying around when strangers are in their place unsupervised.

"We will if a concern arises." Joan assures, walking alongside him as they move towards the door that is currently admitting another round of Damage Control employees from the elevator area, "Do enjoy the rest of your evening Roland. We'll take care of your place."