Lt Cmdr Quentin Beck - Tracker? I hardly know her!

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Quentin Beck

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Jun 11, 2025, 11:19:48 PM6/11/25

to USS Ronin – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG

((Chicago Portage National Historic Site, Chicago, Illinois - Holosuite 4, Deck 4, USS Ronin))

Beck: Y'know, when someone invites you to a stakeout, it's usually the polite thing to try to be quiet about it on your arrival.

Quentin studied Evinrude intently, his face a stony mask save the way his lips pulled into a thin line. He suppressed a shudder, which would have been the typical chill his character would have felt on seeing a vampire of any kind, let alone one of the White Court. He was more than a little pleased that the suggested feeling had worked as programmed - it had been quite some time since he'd built out a program that included distributing the chemical compounds necessary to induce certain emotions that would deepen immersion, which was how he'd gotten into the neuro field to begin with.

He had, of course, informed the other players they would be a part of this little experiment, but with all assurance that the compounds were otherwise harmless. He'd made sure to check their medical records, too, to ensure he wouldn't use anything to which they might be allergic, and if any of them felt dismayed or out of control, all they had to do was apply a simple hypospray, which they all should have grabbed at the door when they came in.

He was also pleased to see Tess leaning into things. The wig was a bit ridiculous, though the holofilters were also programmed to make a White Court vampire a little more pale, a little more luminous, to help sell the illusion. The glow of his eyes, in particular, gave Quentin the willies.

Evinrude: Sorry Doc, you're right. ::Tess grinned.:: I'll get in character.

Herbert: Response

Beck: You showed up right on time. I was just about to start picking Bob's brain, so to speak.

He offered the pair a reassuring, slim smile before turning back to the skull.

Beck: Okay. So there've been multiple reports of what some people say could only be an ape, though nothing's escaped from the zoo. Bipedal, a little over six feet tall, reddish-brown hair covering pretty much everything, but not terribly imposing. Think Bigfoot but smaller. And it's usually accompanied by a pretty foul odor, akin to that let off by a skunk.

Tucker: If it is what I think it is, you owe me another novel. As you were saying, it smells horrible, and I’m thinking we’re dealing with a Skunk Ape.

Quentin let out a little snort at that, sardonically amused by the name. It was a little too on the nose, pardon the pun, but it made him start thinking about some of the reports he'd seen back at the library, after he'd first gotten the call about the sightings. There was another name for the creature, certainly a little more humorous when abbreviated, but he thought better of providing that particular bit of information; it was too, too easy a target for the likes of the skull.

Herbert: Response

He could tell Tucker was fidgeting inside the little room he'd programmed for the skull, the movements translated as tiny vibrations against his fingertips. He had a special trick up his sleeve for when Tucker was really starting to get cabin fever, but it was technically cheating and provided very little challenge; and anyway, he'd put a lot of effort into recreating the little house that Bob was supposedly using inside the skull. Might as well let Tucker enjoy it.

Tucker: There are books devoted to this stuff. Give me a few minutes and see what I can dig up.

Beck: Don't take too long. We're getting pretty close to the window of time this thing's usually been seen, and I'd prefer we not get caught with our collective pants down.

Herbert: Response

He grinned a little as the skull actually bounced in his hand, very pleased to see Tucker was figuring out the logistics of the thing already. The engineer had a lot more power and capability with it than he might think, so long as he was creative. He might even stumble onto a few surprises on his own. And not only did the runes glow, the skull actually grew a fraction of a degree warmer in his hand.

Tucker: I haven’t found anything that would correlate what was happening Harry. Somethings afoot and I’m not sure what it is, except that it smells…fragrant.

Evinrude: So this...skunk ape. Why are we hunting it exactly? Is it a danger, or simply trying to make a name for itself here in Chicago?

Evinrude's attempt to play up the disaffected vampire was actually pretty good, at least as far as Quentin was concerned. It needed a little work, but he had a feeling Tess would settle into it just fine as they went on. Mostly, he was glad to see Tess was already having a good time. He hoped the same was true for the others.

Evinrude: ::Under his breath.:: ...and does its stink transfer if you touch it?

Beck: That's what we're here to find out. So far, the only thing reported has been sightings, maybe some food missing from someone's picnic in the area outside the waterway. But the bulk of it has been here, mostly in or around the swamp. As for the stink… let's hope not, Edward, or you're gonna have some trouble eating later on, no matter what emotion you feed on.

Herbert: Response

The skull shifted in his palm again and the color of the eyes shifted rapidly, practically enflamed.

Tucker: Oi! It’s not polite to stare! Not to mention, this is about as slim as I’ll ever get. And yes, I'm a skull, deal with it.

Quentin chuckled a little at that one, eyes sparkling with delight. He knew he'd been on the right track asking Tuck to play the skull - the holodeck's AI did a passable job, but it was never quite as… funny as someone alive that was driving the skull around.

Before anyone could crack another joke or ask another question, though, the odd, protective cover of the silence was shattered by a howl followed immediately by a scream in the near distance on the other side of the river.

Clenching his jaw, Quentin leaned back on his heels and pushed, extending his legs to his full height - or rather, the full height of his character, which was six foot nine inches, his height enhanced by the holodeck's filters. He was half a head taller than his staff, even, which remained tucked under his arm, and he raised the skull so Tucker could peer the same direction they were looking.

Evinrude: ::Quietly.:: What's the play, wizard?

Beck: Well… we go see what the hell that was, for one thing. It's possible it's not related, but that doesn't seem likely.

Herbert: Response

Tucker: So exactly how do you plan to track this smelly beastie?

Beck: ::thoughtfully:: I was considering putting on a toucan mask and following my nose, but just about everything around here has the same musky quality of a skunk, so that's probably out. ::pausing:: I have another idea, though. I did a little research before we came out here, and since you confirmed what I was already thinking, we can probably start by looking for tracks - they've been reported to have anywhere from four to six toes on a foot.

Evinrude/Herbert: Response

Tucker: Well, lead the way and don’t you dare put me back in that bag. I want to see.

He grinned a little before digging into the backpack and pulling out a small fishnet bag. Slipping the skull into it, he fastened it securely shut before tying it off at the top end of his staff, so Bob was dangling with his eye holes pointing in whatever direction Quentin held the staff.

Beck: This'll work, at least until I need to start slinging spells. But you should be easy enough to pull off there if it comes down to it. Now… ::raising the staff a bit higher:: Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?