Page 210 of 244 FirstFirst ... 110160200205208209210211212215220 ... LastLast
Results 4,181 to 4,200 of 4864

Thread: Astronomika - Shooting Down Falling Stars (IC)

  1. #4181
    Time to burn some dread Daneel Rush's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2012
    Location
    Chaldea Naval Base
    Gender
    Male
    Posts
    2,111
    Blog Entries
    1
    Location: Pinefall High Dormitory – Souma Nubatama’s Bedroom (Room 109)
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast



    Souma speaks. John merely listens, and ponders. His thoughts are too scattered. Their knowledge is limited, missing too many pieces for them to be able to tie them together.

    “Yes, Souma, I read Dr. Leuzinger’s report on DDS. And yes, I find some discrepancies between what she describes and what I am experiencing, to the point that I believe it is not a simple as our teachers would like it to be.”

    He then turns to Alexstrasza. Perhaps this is a mistake, but John wants everybody to be on the same page—as much as such a thing is possible for these characters.

    “Alexstrasza, our teachers believe the supernatural to be a contagious, shared delusion, which can be spread through sufficient exposure to it. They believe the supernatural is not real, and they can ascertain this because they are thus far unable to perceive it. Furthermore, they have developed a drug that blocks a person’s perception of the supernatural, to a limited degree.”

    He can only hope Souma does not add unnecessary context to this “explanation.” The last thing they need right now is a debate on the reality of the supernatural.

    “Regardless, if the supernatural were to be completely false as our teachers believe, then our ‘time travel’, or however you want to call it, would also be part of that shared delusion. However, the scientists would then have to explain how a delusion revealed Souma’s Tuesday evening encounter to us…among other things.”

    Turning to Souma, John returns to the subject of the Disembodied Man.

    “Souma, we do not know much about this criminal. What I can tell you is that it is driven by a vendetta. Its actions seem intent on making us suffer and feel impotence and hopelessness. It blames us for something, and intends to hurt us for it.” He pauses. “Well, I say ‘us’, but perhaps I should not make that assumption. Perhaps the Disembodied Man is projecting. Perhaps it is targeting us because it cannot target the real object of their vendetta, or because it sees somebody else in us. There seem to have been a number of tragedies in this very campus; perhaps its actions are connected to those past events. I do not know.”

    John pays close attention to Souma’s list of ‘suspicious classmates’.

    “Vier Wolff also shares mine and Alexstrasza’s alternate memories. From everything that happened in that version of Sunday, I am not surprised she is having a hard time.”

    Are you not having a hard time yourself, John Dove?

    “Montjoy…yes, he is…reserved. I got the impression that he avoids talking about himself.”

    Prushka claimed he is an ESPer. Perhaps he should have asked about that. It seems like finding their smallest classmate grows as a priority, for she has valuable information on both Montjoy and Bakhauv.

    “From what basis do you call his behavior ‘erratic’, Souma? What is Caleb Montjoy’s ‘normal’, and how has his behavior diverged from that normal? I know not enough about him, so I have to inquire further on this. As for Hwan Bin…”

    Prushka seems to trust him. Does John Dove trust Prushka as a judge of character?

    “…well, that would be a matter of investigating the outbuilding and seeing what he’s been up to. It seems an almost surprisingly simple line of investigation. By any chance, has either of you visited the outbuilding?”

    That was one of the spots in the test of courage. The ones who went there…Pyry and Momoi, if John’s not mistaken.

    Alexstrasza then speaks. If he were a more…emotive man, he would find her words and reactions endearing.

    “Alexstrasza, we do not know for a fact that Gabi Bakhauv is dead, only that he is missing. We are suspecting that he is dead because of the claims the Disembodied Man shared with you. Before we can examine Bakhauv, we first would have to find him, dead or alive.”

    After that, he needs a moment to gather all these scattered thoughts, and try to make anything of them. Seated on Souma’s bed, he rests his elbows on his thighs and brings his hands together in front of his face. Closing his eyes, he intently, almost desperately, looks for the next course of action.

    “From what I’ve heard, we have two locations to investigate: the outbuilding, if only to confirm or discard Hwan Bin as a suspicious element, and the Ghostwood Overlook, plus the road leading to it. If Bakhauv was attacked outside, however, any physical evidence has likely been washed away by yesterday’s rain. On the other hand, I am also interested in investigating the statue and the things left behind by the Klallam…yes, I think I will make that trip later.”

    His sight refocuses on the two in the room with him.

    “I also want to talk to Prushka. She is the one who brought Bakhauv’s absence to my attention in the first place. I think she has more information—like I said, she’s been investigating as well. And like I also said, we have to ask other people, for whatever else they may know about him.”

    Resting his hands on his knees, John allows himself a small smile.

    “As much as I find myself enjoying your company, I think we should split for this. Souma, would you be willing to help Alexstrasza investigate the outbuilding later today, while I investigate the overlook? How’s that for a plan?”

    He has no qualms about making the trip on his own, but considering the circumstances, he is not against finding a partner for that endeavor. He already has somebody in mind, in fact.

    “Anyway, as interesting as this conversation is, I have no plans to skip breakfast this morning. Furthermore, there’re probably still others in the dorms at this time, so this is our best chance to ask them about Bakhauv.”

    A nod towards Souma.

    “Again, my apologies for interrupting your early routine, and my thanks for sharing your time and your thoughts with us.”

  2. #4182
    Are you for real? Katie's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    absolute disbelief
    Gender
    Female
    Posts
    4,801
    Blog Entries
    1
    Lucille Faraday
    Location: Avery's Diner
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast


    Tris’ tragedy makes her wish she never pried into asking why the girl had owned Ascalon in the first place. She should learn to be more patience, or word herself more kindly.

    “Perhaps I should have taken Mr. Pinkerton’s offer to work at the country club,” Lucille says aloud, musing on the week that ended horribly wrong. “Maybe I’d have learned something more useful.”

    Truthfully, all she can say is that Jack Pinkerton seemed kind, which is a particularly useless statement when she thinks of her fondness for Michael. And kind people can do cruel things—see Elaine. So, ultimately, she has nothing important to say about that matter. As for Elise’s musings on the idea of a “genetic father,” that sounds about right, but she isn’t particularly well-versed enough in science to draw such a conjecture.

    “Is it possible that original ‘genetic father’ also happens to be in Road’s End, or did Nevada say something to the contrary?”

    "Oh, uh, Lucille? I wanted to ask you earlier, I'm struggling to put a name to a face. I'm trying to remember an archbishop, I think he had brown hair, but when he smiled, he definitely had a deeply unpleasant smile. You wouldn't happen to know who that might be by any chance?"
    Lucille furrows her brows in thought, before the answer comes to her, accompanied by a frown. She shouldn’t make any conjectures—not unless Elise says anything else, but she doesn’t like what it implies, not in the slightest.

    “The Black Lamb of God…”

    Lucille pauses, as if her half-eaten pancake could tell her the truth of what is happening, before everything snaps into place.

    “Sorry, it’s his title. Titus Bethlehem is the Archbishop of Montreal. Michael worked with him before he was assigned to my squad. From rumor and hearsay, he’s a fundamentally deeply unpleasant individual. Not via his actions, but more by the nature of his very existence? As if the Lord made someone who could only emit terror.”

    Lucille forces herself to look at Elise, but her frown only deepens.

    “Although… that aura is exactly why he has that title. The Black Lamb has supposedly stained himself with the greatest of sins for the righteousness of all.”

  3. #4183
    死徒(上級)Greater Dead Apostle Cheetose's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2018
    Age
    30
    Posts
    614
    Hisa Momoi
    Location: Road's End - Road to McLampet Manor
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    It was perhaps somewhat bold to imply that she's been sneaking out at night, but by the looks of it, Beatrice either didn't notice it, or was just not particularly bothered by it. But then, soon enough, it became irrelevant either way, as Beatrice turned around and headed back towards the mansion after the goodbyes were said. Things ended up going much smoother and quicker than expected - the only issue left being that Allene seemed to be way more stressful than she was yesterday. Was she really this afraid of coming out during the day?

    Still, her worries seemed to ease up a bit once she got into the car as well, and after the brief introductions with those who she was not familiar with yet, she was already busying herself with learning about all the things she has never seen or had.

    "But..."

    Something that, in this context, reminded me of the previous times we've taken a trip somewhere in Pyry's car.

    "Isn't that all just weird finnish music? I'm not sure if that's really the first thing she should listen to."

    My eyes wandered onto the music player for a moment, trying to remember the last song that played on it with incomprehensible lyrics, before my attention was back on Allene.

    "How are you feeling, by the way? Any effects of the sun yet?"

  4. #4184
    Click the moon for extra scenes Verg Avesta's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    I'll go to sleep soon.
    Posts
    6,807
    Blog Entries
    71
    Liana Skye/Sora Hikari
    Location: Spade Queen Country Club - Kitchen
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994
    Weather: Overcast

    While Sierra hurried to do as instructed, Aleen reached for the glass handed down to her and brought it to her lips. While she clearly wanted to down the whole thing in one go, as if thinking it would magically ease her horrible state, she managed to restrain herself enough to take just small sips. With each sip, a quiet little sight escaped from her lips, as if some of her energy had been restored. Not enough to counteract the nausea she must have been feeling, but at least it was making her feel a little bit better. She even seemed to relax slightly, not tensing her shoulders the whole time.

    "Y-yeah, I uh..." Aleen muttered, blinking rapidly a few times. "No chills. Just headache. A totes terrible headache. Like I went on a bender last night or something. N-not that I've been on a one, but that's how I imagine it'd feel! It's just... urgh."

    She put a hand over her mouth and grimaced.

    "... I kinda wanna throw up but at the same time don't. And I think I wouldn't even be able to if I tried," the bluehead explained. "Just what the heck did that jerk use to knock me out...?"

    Maybe her own words made her finally think back on the question that had been previously asked, as Aleen turned her eyes towards Liana who was hovering around her like a fussy mother.

    "Oh, and uh, about last night... I remember some stuff. Mostly up until me and Zane separated while dragging that guy back to the lobby," she explained. "After that, someone jumped out of the bushes and pressed something against my mouth - a rag I think - and then..."

    She frowned, clearly annoyed.

    "... Nothing." As if to emphasize what she meant, Aleen snapped her fingers. "Can't even remember dreaming. In fact, the first thing I do remember after that is waking up just now when that tall-and-dark guy headed outside. I think I woke up because he opened the door in a hurry..."

    With a slightly confused look Aleen took another look at Liana.

    "... What the heck happened?"




    Prushka?
    Location: Pinefall High Pool Building
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast
    What followed Prushka's accusation was a roaring laughter coming out of the three guys. Well, mostly two of them, Inacio and Jake. Ahti was laughing too, but mostly thanks to Prushka's facial expression. He didn't seem to actually realize that his careless words had been the cause of this little bout of guffawing. Indeed, Ahti shot a look at the short girl, a question of: "Did I do something?" clear on his face.

    Yes. While he might have been sharp in certain things, the white-mained boy was also rather... inexperienced in other aspects of life.

    Especially when it came to social interactions between people.

    But knowing his past, that made sense.

    "A-anyways..." Jake eventually spoke up, wiping his eyes. "Putting that aside... I mean, I'm a dude of my word. I'm not going to tattle if a girl gotta, uh, do what she gotta do to spend her nights the way she likes. Or a boy for that matter. As long as everyone takes all necessary precautions. Because man, that is one type of drama we don't need around here..."

    Inacio snorted and nodded, folding his arms against his chest.

    "Indeed. Discretion is sometimes the better part of valor, or however they say," the guitarist agreed, before turning to Prushka. "For example, while people may make their own deductions and theories, it's better if others don't stick their noses into our relationships, whatever they might be... no?"

    The last question sounded a bit pointed as the Lusitanian cocked an eyebrow at the girl.

    So guess this was tit-for-tat then?

    "Still, what's up, dudes?" Jake continued, perhaps not sensing Inacio's little warning to the girl. "What brought you here to ol' Jakester's office. Looking to get into trouble? Or outta trouble? Or just generally bored?"




    Hisa Momoi
    Location: Road's End - Road to McLampet Manor
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    "H-hey!"

    Pyry's protest came with an indignant snort as the boy turned the steering wheel, making the vehicle rejoin back to the main road that headed back towards the town - to the eastern side of it, to be more specific.

    "I've got other music there too! Like Deep Purple, or Uriah Heep, or Led Zeppelin... I've got all the best stuff!" he complained, nostrils flaring a little. "Just cause I've got one or two things I recorded back home so I could listen to them here doesn't mean that's all I have. Besides..."

    He frowned in a teasing way and reached over Aleen to ruffle Hisa's hair, as if to playfully get back at her.

    "Nothing weird about that music whatsoever! You're just got no proper taste, that's all."

    As a response, Hisa could practically hear Mercedes roll her eyes in the backseat.

    "So music with lyrics nobody can understand, or the best of decaded-old butt rock?" She snarked. "Like, wow. That's quite the collection alright."

    Pyry flushed a bit red on his cheeks and pointed his finger accusingly towards the starlet.

    "You take that back! I'll have you know, Deep Purple is the best band there is! Besides---"

    While the two started arguing, Allene - after giggling at the sight - turned towards Hisa. A look of confusion appeared on her face, one that told that the girl wasn't sure if she had misunderstood something, or just lacked enough knowledge what was being talked about. Namely...

    "Umm... erm. I've got a question," Allene asked from Hisa with a whisper. "What's... what's 'butt rock'? I've never heard of a genre like that..."

    ... She had taken it literally, hadn't she?

    Just how sheltered was this girl?

    "O-oh and gosh, I think I'm feeling pretty fine, still? No rash or headaches yet," the girl answered the previous question. "I think the parasol helps... and the overcast weather. And even then, it usually takes some time before it starts getting painful. I'm... honestly, I'm not completely sure. I haven't tried going outside too much during the day, after all. Gosh, just the thought of what might end up happening always scares me and then, I end up staying inside..."

    The last words were spoken somewhat wistfully... at least until a small smile bloomed on the girl's face.

    "... But now I'm feeling much braver about it. After all, I've got all of you with me, even if something bad happens."




    Elise Pelltier & Lucille Faraday
    Location: Avery's Diner
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    "Archbishop Bethlehem... I've heard of him as well."

    Michael nodded, grimly.

    "From what my brother said back then, he was a... deeply unpleasant individual. The type that could read you like an open book and then pick at your mental scabs and scars for his own amusement... or so it felt, apparently," he spoke. "I've never met him myself, but from what I understand, he's like a webweaver, with far-reaching network of plts and schemes spreading all across the world from Montreal."

    Just hearing that name and how the other two talked about him... something truly unpleasant swam in the back of Elise's mind. It almost felt like a black clot of something dreadful had begun to rise from her stomach and settled into her throat, a lump that made her quietly break out in cold sweat. But, as opposed to that purely physical reaction... there were no memories. Nothing about this individual that she could remember. Even his face was hazy and covered by shadows. So why... why did the mention of him cause such a physiological reaction?

    Even LBJ seemed to shiver, if but for a moment.

    "As for what comes to the genetic father. I believe that's exactly why Nevada came here. Or so he implied," the fluffy-haired youth continued. "Supposedly that man lives... or perhaps lived at Road's End - it's hard to say. We never found him after all. Or if Nevada did, he didn't tell us. Still, if he was the person who provided the genetic material for that batch of espers... or perhaps one of the many, it may go on to explain similarities in abilities. After all, normally, inheriting an identical ESP is... practically unheard of. Well, aside from rare outliers."

    Musing these thoughts, Samuel took a sip of his cola and sighed. While he did well to hide it, it was clear that the young man was somewhat frustrated at his lack of knowledge regarding the more science-oriented topics of the Turnside. After all, it was knowledge that would have helped them all greatly right now.

    "As for the land project... I don't think so. The country club was already planned to be built. They had began to break the ground. But the thing involving Tris's parents... I don't know. It was something big though. Very big. That's how it seemed at least - a project that would have employed a lots of people. I think Tris would know more. If not... if not for her current state, of course," Samuel continued. "And what comes to Nevada's body, yes... it was recovered. That's how we know he had died. I know enough about the Turnside. I suspected that too. But the body... it was definitely Nevada as it drifted ashore."

    Falling somewhat silent, Samuel leaned back in his chair, staring at the mountain of pancakes in front of him.

    Then, his expression darkened slightly.

    "... That day seven years ago... we didn't know it at first. But we did find out. That the monster was Nevada. It was... it was a day-long nightmare for all of us," he quietly spoke. "I can tell you about it, what happened on that day, but I will warn you... it's a long story. And not especially happy one."

    His eyes focused on Lucille and Elise.

    "Are you sure you want to hear it?"




    John Dove & Alexstrasza Lockhart
    Location: Pinefall High Dormitory – Souma Nubatama’s Bedroom (Room 109)
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    The smoke from the cigarette gently floated towards the ceiling.

    "....... Spltting up to cover more ground is not a bad idea. Going alone is," Souma spoke up, staring intently at John. "You spoke that this murderer most likely operates under a self-justified or deluded vendetta. Which means that the crimes are emotion-based. When emotions come into question, patience and planning falter. 'Opportunity makes a thief', in other words. If they saw one of us alone, unguarded, especially at the forest... they will most likely strike."

    Souma's expression grew into a slight frown.

    "And you are not capable of defending yourself alone, John Dove."

    There was certainly some logic in what he spoke.

    "--- A serial killer's mind is a difficult beast. There's a certain cycle to it. A pattern if you will. And the way he kills has an underlying motif, a theme... a 'tell', if you will. Indiscrimination has no part in it. Because of how cyclical it is, that pattern solidifies and become routine. A build-up period, the act itself, and a cooling-off period... if you want to simplify it. And when things become routine, habits emerge and can be gleamed from the victims they leave behind. These, in turn, may or may not help identify the culprit," Souma spoke with soft, emotionless voice. "But when a serial killer's 'tell' becomes too much of a routine, they may also get sloppy... after all, it has become something normal to them, and during those times, we may give in to our base instincts, we may get careless, we may do thing we shouldn't and think nothing of it. Even the most careful murderer may want to touch their victim's body with their bare hand instead of using a glove so as to not leave fingerprints."

    Suddenly, the amber eye moved and stared straight through both Alexstrasza and John, holding the duo in place with its mere gaze. There was certain gravitas in that stare, the type that Souma rarely displayed - but one that seemed to be almost natural, innate to him. Like a king cobra staring down its prey, mere moments before the strike.

    "But....... the most dangerous thing about the one we are dealing with is the fact that, despite the aberration of being a serial killer, he or she is able to blend in with us. If not into this class, then into this town. They are able to, more or less, act out the part of a normal person - hide their destructive, lethal instincts. I don't like to toot my own horn, but I'm... sensitive to such changes in those around me. And I have yet to encounter anyone with a clear-cut murderous intent within them," Souma continued, almost quietly. "I'm not sure if I'd call them frighteningly lucid, or frighteningly crazed, because the answer could be either... but whichever it is, it's true that the culprit amidst us is a master of masking their true self. Hiding in plain sight."

    Taking a drag from his cigarette, Souma let out another puff of smoke emerge into the air.

    "For example, Caleb Montjoy... while I've sensed that he's become withdrawn, and while I see him gaze at all of us with distrust that grows each day - even more so towards himself, I haven't felt a murderous intent from him. He is clearly growing more and more detached from us and reality at large, walking the woods all alone and muttering to himself, but that's not a sign of a murderer... yet," Souma explained. "And same with the others. Even Vier Wolff, who I can sense has no qualms about killing another person in cold blood, I know does not harbor a wish to kill anyone... not yet at least."

    Suddenly, Souma spun around in his chair and stumped his cigarette into the ashtray. Then he stood up, a venomous smile on his face, regarding the two once more without the strange intensity that he had shown before.

    "......... What we need now is somewhere to start. Anything of this murderer that we can gleam information from. A victim, messages, taunting scribbles on a wall... we need to understand the rules their game and what sort of rules they operate under. From there, we can find out their 'tell' - and from there, we can find them. It all starts with baby steps," he concluded. "Though, do try to be careful. Even if you find evidence of killings, it may not be our culprit. After all... this place has a bloody, haunting history to it."

    Souma chuckled, quietly.

    "--- Even the closed portion of this very dormitory has seen two, if not three, killers walk through its halls - not one, like Elise Pelltier seemed to believe."

  5. #4185
    The Time-Governing Twelve Covenants Airen's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    Velvet Room
    Age
    31
    Posts
    7,060
    Blog Entries
    5
    Liana Skye/Sora Hikari
    Location: Spade Queen Country Club - Kitchen
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994
    Weather: Overcast


    "You got drugged and thrown into the bushes outside, yesterday's culprit disguised themselves as you right after that... Used some sort of chemical to knock you out, so, as you seem to have figured out... That's probably the source of the headache."

    ---Sort of blunt.

    No reason to dance around the topic, she deserved to know what had happened...

    "Sorry I couldn't stop it by the way, I was a bit too far away when it happened to block her... But I did get to you right after. Good thing too, with the storm last night you could've gotten pretty sick from exposure alone... And I think Vier feels bad that she didn't notice it sooner..."

    Amongst other things...

    She blinks.

    "But putting that aside for now... You said someone tall and dark went outside in a hurry...?"

    Thorne?

    She makes a sharp, hissing noise, hair whirling through the air as her head turns to the side as if she couldn't quite believe those words, or was perhaps hiding muttered swears in the shadows of her own hair, then...

    "Why are men so difficult? I told him to come get me if something happened...!"

    She complains.

    Maybe it's something, maybe it's nothing at all, but...

    Liana Skye is a chronic worrier.

    Especially after nights like last night.

    He knows this, he's seen these exact behaviors from her in action, so-!

    "Okay. I'll explain the rest on the way to the lobby."

    She turns, kneels down slightly, and...

    "Hop on my back Aleen, I'll carry you for now. Sierra, let's head on back towards the lobby, I wanna check on Thorne, make sure he isn't getting himself into trouble..."

    Too close to Sunday for her not to worry.

    He makes it a point not to go out in sunlight too... I know it's cloudy out, but...What is he doing...?

    Going out in spite of his fatigue?

    Struggling with his hunger?

    On a day where the storm is gonna come crashing in in the evening?

    "No need to be shy either Aleen, I've already carried you around once last night. This is all part of my Knight duties."

    ---Gotta move fast.

    Can't waste time.
    Last edited by Airen; November 2nd, 2021 at 08:23 PM.
    Exodus (Complete)

    Even if the author is silenced, the performance is stilled and the actors leave the stage, the story will never truly end.

    Regardless of the form it takes, as long as there are memories of it's existence, the story will continue on.

    In a small ward in the heart of a once devastated town, life carries on as it always has...

    Because of you.

    Please, remember it warmly.

    We'll continue to walk down this path for eternity.




    Mugen No Sekai

    "The Illusion Incomplete Memories Produce Are,

    Fleeting, Disappearing into the Future,

    Until the Ruins of Yesterday Overflow,

    For That Which Falls Only to Rise is Simply a--"

  6. #4186
    Vlovle Bloble's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2011
    Location
    Ontario, Canadia
    Gender
    Male
    Posts
    11,829
    JP Friend Code
    http://forums.nrvnqsr.com
    Blog Entries
    5
    Prushka?
    Location: Pinefall High Pool Building
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    "Ugh........"

    Don't look at me like that, Ahti! I can't even be mad at you because you don't know better! Now all this humiliation and rage has nowhere to go!

    So with a wave, I dismiss his worry. It's fine, Scrooge. I'll poke you a lot later, so we're okay for now.

    "It's fine... but d-don't misunderstand, Briggs! W-whatever you're thinking, it's not like that at all! I mean, c'mon, look at me..." Ahti's may have a villain's soul, but he's too much of a stand-up guy to even think that way in the first place. "D-d-don't just assume, okay?"

    Then, a glance at Inacio and the slightly stern look on his face.

    "And, um... sorry for doing some assuming myself, Inacio... whatever that girl is to you, it's none of my beeswax. Well, unless you want it to be. I'm a pretty good meddler if I do say so myself."

    Quote Originally Posted by Jake
    "Still, what's up, dudes? What brought you here to ol' Jakester's office. Looking to get into trouble? Or outta trouble? Or just generally bored?"
    "Oh! Right!"

    Got so distracted saving Inacio from his grilling that I forgot about the whole reason I came here in the first place!



    "We had some free time, so I came here to pick your brain, Briggs! You've gotta know about all sorts of secrets that awful humans hide away from the light! Vast conspiracies! Underground bases! Hidden societies! Occult rituals! Hanged men! Ancient legends! Long lost brothers! Hidden killers! The works!"

    "Are you ready? 'Cus I won't be holding back one bit, and it might get painful!"

    Last edited by Bloble; October 31st, 2021 at 01:00 PM.

  7. #4187
    地獄待ち Spinach's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2011
    Age
    30
    Posts
    16,094
    Blog Entries
    3
    Colt Davin
    Location: Spade Queen Country Club - Outside
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994
    Weather: Overcast



    "... To be frank, Colton, the idea is good, but that is a very big if. While the autopsy was not made by an Bureau coroner, it is still rather trustworthy. And considering the awkward angle of the letter and how it was shaped, it seems more likely that it was made by Elizaveta Vyraj herself, rather than have something added to it. Of course, it is a possibility but... I'm not sure."

    “I haven’t seen the body, so my guesswork is as good as that: guesswork, a big if.” Colt shrugged when the idea was commended alongside being stricken down. “And I can’t say I want to see it either…”

    Rather than being dead-set on the ‘B’ being another letter, Colt’s concerns were that it may be more than just a ‘B,’ or not even a ‘B’ at all. What else it might be, that wasn’t known to him. This was the best shot he could take in the dark. But in Road’s End, nothing is ever quite as it seems. Especially when it seems simple.

    "Then again... what if it isn't the letter B... what if it is something different? But in that case, maybe... just maybe... wait...”

    Regardless of the accuracy of Colt’s own idea, at the least it gave a different perspective to the man, who was now considering it more thoroughly.

    "--- Wait. Could it be...?"

    And seemingly, arriving at some sort of conclusion.

    "... No. I suppose that doesn't matter now. Food for thought for later, but that's about it. But, as for this other thing you said? Erm, ladders? Horizontal ladders... horizontal ladders... why would the horizontal ladders be the best..."

    The teenager couldn’t tell if this response was a sign that he’d delivered the message to the right recipient, or if Agent Ferguson just responded to anything cryptically this way. At the least, he seemed to be pondering it seriously, not taking it for just rambling.

    "--- Railroad tracks?”

    “Horizontal ladders… railroad tracks.” Memories of a certain portly man with pockets full of junk came to mind. “Wait…”

    “But then, someone with moonlight...? That seems rather poetic, does it not? Am I getting any closer?"

    “Ah, sorry sir, but I don’t know the answer either. A backwards-talking dwarf past the hangman’s noose told me to pass it on. I’ve got no clue what he meant or even who it’s for, just somebody in a suit, but,” he scratched the back of his head. “After that, Elizaveta Vyraj told me who killed her but…”

    The boy looked away sheepishly.

    “It was like a dream, I can’t remember it all. I just know that she told me, but… whatever she said, it completely slipped out of my head as soon as I came to.”

    He left out the part where he woke up from that dream in a small panic attack. The part about dying and coming back to earlier in the week could be saved for later.

    “Railroad tracks… there’s an old rail yard in this town, I’ve heard. A journalist… or I guess I’d rather think of him as a photographer, said there are aliens over there.”

    At the ridiculousness of it, he shrugged awkwardly.

    But in truth, as ridiculous as it was, it was probably true. To an extent.

    “Aliens or not, he did share one thing I don’t think is just a tall-tale or him seeing things he didn’t understand. The guy told me there are mounds of dirt over there, full of bones. ‘Course, I dunno if I trust the guy to tell human bones from pig bones, but that’s about all that comes to mind when I think of railroads…”

    Then, with one last detail left, Colt rubbed his chin.

    “Moonlight though. I just assume it has something to do with vampires, at this point.”


  8. #4188
    Elise Pelltier & Lucille Faraday
    Location: Avery's Diner
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast


    Quote Originally Posted by Lucille Faraday
    Sorry, it’s his title. Titus Bethlehem is the Archbishop of Montreal. Michael worked with him before he was assigned to my squad. From rumor and hearsay, he’s a fundamentally deeply unpleasant individual. Not via his actions, but more by the nature of his very existence? As if the Lord made someone who could only emit terror.”

    “Although… that aura is exactly why he has that title. The Black Lamb has supposedly stained himself with the greatest of sins for the righteousness of all.”
    Quote Originally Posted by Samuel Lowgate
    "Archbishop Bethlehem... I've heard of him as well."

    "From what my brother said back then, he was a... deeply unpleasant individual. The type that could read you like an open book and then pick at your mental scabs and scars for his own amusement... or so it felt, apparently. I've never met him myself, but from what I understand, he's like a webweaver, with far-reaching network of plts and schemes spreading all across the world from Montreal."
    Elise set her knife and fork down beside her plate for a moment as she took a moment to settle herself. That unpleasant, ill feeling of dread rising up from her stomach and into her throat made her momentarily lose her appetite.

    Okay. So. That was something.

    "I'm-I'm pretty sure I have met Archbishop Bethlehem before, but... I'm just not quite sure of the context. I just can't quite remember..."

    Despite the sudden wave of illness, Elise couldn't help but feel a momentary pang of disappointment that there was no memory to accompany the physiological reaction to the Archbishop's name. Even with a name, he still remained a shadowy, vague figure in her memories.

    He was likely involved in whatever happened... one way or another. Did he not want me to remember his involvement in whatever awful thing happened, or did I just not want to remember him?

    Elise took a moment to consider the man's unpleasant smile. The one feature of his that truly stuck in her memory. A smile so unpleasant that it's description alone was enough for Lucille and Samuel to recognize the individual.

    If the latter, well, I can hardly blame myself for wanting to forget that.


    She shook her head to drive the image out of her mind for now, and turned her attention back to other matters.

    Quote Originally Posted by Samuel Lowgate
    ""As for the land project... I don't think so. The country club was already planned to be built. They had began to break the ground. But the thing involving Tris's parents... I don't know. It was something big though. Very big. That's how it seemed at least - a project that would have employed a lots of people. I think Tris would know more. If not... if not for her current state, of course. And what comes to Nevada's body, yes... it was recovered. That's how we know he had died. I know enough about the Turnside. I suspected that too. But the body... it was definitely Nevada as it drifted ashore."
    "I take it that whatever project Tris' parents were involved in with Mr. Pinkerton was scuttled after the accident then, and then it became just another effort to revitalize Road's End that never really materialized? Wonder what they were working on together..." Elise glanced over to Lucille, "Probably not a priority, but do you think Mr. Pinkerton might want to talk about it?"

    Samuel confirmed that Nevada's body had been recovered, which ruled out the possibility of him having faked his death and returning as the pilot of the biological suit of armour that Lucille had encountered in the Pool Building last Sunday.

    Unless he was able to fashion a decoy body-

    Elise frowned to herself and discarded that line of thought, even if it did feel vaguely plausible to her.

    "So, Nevada definitely died that night..." muttered Elise sadly, "That rules out one possibility for our current pilot's identity. Still, that leaves us with the puzzling case of having at least two, possibly three, different espers with seemingly very similar powers who all end up piloting that suit of biological armour. Especially if espers with the same power are practically unheard of."

    Elise sighed.

    "Well, I don't know enough about ESP to do more than guess here. That's definitely something we'll have to ask Hisa and Prushka about then."

    Elise paused as she took a moment to consider the three different appearances of that apparent monster, and the tragedies that seemed to occur around them. She picked up her pencil and jotted down the years in what little space there was on the page between the soda logos and smiley faces, and frowned at the numbers as she noted something rather unsettling about them.

    "By the way... 73, 87 and 94... That's almost a pattern. Did-did anything terrible happen in Road's End in 1980 that could have been attributed to that suit?" asked Elise, pausing to do some more math, "Or-or I guess 1945?"

    Quote Originally Posted by Samuel Lowgate
    "Are you sure you want to hear it?"
    Elise nodded.

    "Only if you're up for the telling, Samuel," replied Elise, "I've heard bits and pieces about that day, and I think it might be helpful if we got the full context of it. I-I don't know if what happened then is connected to what's happening now, but I have a hard time not believing that there isn't a connection between all these repeated tragedies that seem to befall Pinefall and its students."

    Elise sighed sadly.

    "I'm sorry we've made your first meal in a long time such a dour occasion. This really should be a celebration," apologized Elise.

  9. #4189
    Are you for real? Katie's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    absolute disbelief
    Gender
    Female
    Posts
    4,801
    Blog Entries
    1
    Lucille Faraday
    Location: Avery's Diner
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast


    Elise can’t remember?

    Was it on purpose or not? A deliberate erasure of memories, or sheer trauma? Did the Archbishop really do something to her?

    Lucille has no way of getting answers—pestering Elise seemed like it wouldn’t lead anywhere, so all she can be is somewhat worried about the matter. Hopefully, the rumors of the Black Lamb were not connected to Elise’s unfortunate predicament.

    "I take it that whatever project Tris' parents were involved in with Mr. Pinkerton was scuttled after the accident then, and then it became just another effort to revitalize Road's End that never really materialized? Wonder what they were working on together..." Elise glanced over to Lucille, "Probably not a priority, but do you think Mr. Pinkerton might want to talk about it?"
    “I… have no idea. He seemed rather personable enough when I met him, but to bring up something of this caliber unprompted… I don’t think he’d look upon me very kindly if I dredged up bad memories.” It’s unfortunate then, Lucille thinks, that this is another clue to the myriad mysteries she has no idea how to approach. But without the help of one of the psychics, she isn’t sure if there is a surefire way to get this information, if at all.

    "Well, I don't know enough about ESP to do more than guess here. That's definitely something we'll have to ask Hisa and Prushka about then."
    “It seems we’re all in the same boat, then. Better to pass on this case to the experts.” Lucille isn’t surprised that they are not versed in the kind of technology espers are involved in, but it’s annoying nonetheless. The more people you involve in solving a problem, the more likely it is something can go wrong, or something may just end up being untimely.

    "Are you sure you want to hear it?"
    “I think… it’s better that we know,” Lucille says finally. She agrees with Elise, that this is up to Michael. The memories of trauma hurt the teller the most. At the same time, to avoid future tragedy, they must dig into all of these unpleasant events to find kernels of the truth.

  10. #4190
    Glorious Grammar Master Race Frantic Author's Avatar
    Join Date
    Feb 2012
    Location
    SPACE.
    Age
    28
    Gender
    Male
    Posts
    2,593
    Blog Entries
    5
    Alexstrasza Lockhart and John Dove
    Location: Pinefall High Dormitory – Souma Nubatama’s Bedroom (Room 109)

    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    I blinked at John's words, frowning. The supernatural, a delusion? A shared disease, that infects and festers inside those that it wraps in its cloak? What an interesting premise, albeit completely wrong. It was only natural that those who were not embroiled in the arcane could not comprehend it, and their desperation to do so would lead them to such utterly baffling answers.

    "But is that not true, Mister Dove?" I asked, peering at him curiously as I raised a hand, a small flicker of flame dancing across my palm as it raced up my arm. "Magic is the denial of reality, yes? To enforce one's will on the world - even though the world itself disagrees. The ability to delude oneself is core to arcana, is it not?"

    I smiled brightly at him, and the fire danced down my arm with a lazy twitch of a finger, a small bird of flame standing perched on my index as I peered at it, holding my hand in front of my eyes as I watched the bird slowly flicker and die.

    "This delusion of mine - that I am a mage - is something that outclasses the world's belief that its mysteries are dead and gone. That all of them - both the terrifying ones that send chills down your spines - those tales of demons summoned, long ago - and the wondrous ones - the whispers of angelic influence onto our plane - will never occur again. In the world's memory, arcana is essentially a garish stain on that brilliantly beautiful tapestry. To erase it would be well..."

    I smiled, lazily, shrugging my shoulders.

    "It would only be natural for the world to desire and crave to do so. The 'explanation' of the incomprehensible is the goal of your so-called scientists, is it not? For those of us steeped in the arcane, it simply is."

    I can manipulate mana because my belief in magic outweighs the world's rejection of it. This 'delusion' - that magic is real - is a primal part of my very soul, intrinsically tied to my very being. Tapping the side of my cheek, I thought for a moment, biting my lip. I listened patiently to the rest of Souma and John's conversation, frowning as I thought it over, mulling it in my head. It was growing quite clear to me that my investigations at Road's End had so far been... a bit lacking. I had no clue about most of what John was speaking of, nor of what Prushka had been investigating. If anything, I only knew about what I knew, which seemed ever smaller in comparison to these grand schemes and dangers that my classmates were involving themselves in.

    In a way, I...

    I felt very, very small. Like I was a child stampeding into someone else's playground game.


    "Well, as far as I am to understand it," I said to Souma, raising a finger into the air. "The man without a face only kills those who have no way to fight back. He would not go after myself, nor after you, Souma, in spite of my most excellent taunts. If anything, he seemed to prefer targets that were almost... Defenseless? The shade claimed that its sole aim is to hurt us. And yet, it refuses to lift a hand and point it at us."

    I sighed, watching the smoke slowly drift upwards from Souma's cigarette with a wrinkled nose, as the smell began to infiltrate my nostrils.

    "The shade also left me a very personalized message of Cesarina's... of Cesarina's..."

    Blood.

    A corpse that was still living. Carved asunder, blood dripping down her arms, skin half gone.

    Cesarina Feroce.

    I'll kill him. And if time skips backwards, I'll kill him again. And again. And again. And again. I'll carve out his eyes and use his face as a mask if need be. I'll flay his fingers one by one if I must. I'll leave knives in his knees overnight to see if he enjoys it.

    Ah.

    I've been distracted.

    "B-but it was not very helpful! It merely informed me that there is some elusive sin that I - or, I suppose, we - have committed, and this shade is extremely dedicated to extracting his pound of flesh for the next ten thousand years or more."

    I paused.

    "Oh! He also has memories of the past week. And several dozen before, if I were to venture a guess. He knows all of us quite well, to the point that he has grown to hate us for something that none of us can remember," I said, pressing my index finger into my cheek with my thumb pointed downwards, tilting my head towards it. Stray strands of blonde hair fell over my eyes, and I looked at John curiously. "Is it wrong, to hate someone for something they cannot remember doing, do you think?"

    Is it wrong to hate someone who hates you for something you cannot remember? Is it wrong to crave their death as recompense for their sins? Is chasing this man without a face simply a continuation in an endless lieu of sins? I can only remember of a hundred and six. No, possibly more. I cannot discount that my tenure at Scholomance was... shaky, at best. My love of practical jokes was oft not well-received, despite how many of them were mere recreations of my teacher's own jests on my person. It is a pity that most people simply cannot deal with such minor pranks; a flood exiting your closet? Are you not a mage!? Just breathe underwater! Or teleport! Don't just stand there uselessly, and allow yourself to be overwhelmed!

    ...

    Perhaps Travis was right, and my practical jokes are... a bit excessive. I may have more sins then I realized. Could this shade actually be a simulacrum of one of my many dear roommates? Dearest Potemkin, were we not good friends with our roommates? I don't think they would ever go this far over mere pranks. Nor could any of my roommates possibly weave a web through time. Such a thing would...

    Require an immense amount of magical skill. An enormous amount of magical prowess. And his ability to disguise himself...

    Oh my.

    I smiled, bright and wide.

    Perhaps finding Gaap of Ars Goetia was a less difficult task then I originally supposed.
    Last edited by Frantic Author; November 1st, 2021 at 12:38 PM.
    in the end we will make thoughtcrime impossible, for there shall be no words to express it

    #THELEGENDNEVERDIES

    [01:05.15] <@Spinach> I can flash gang signs faster than Sasuke can perform ninjutsu and I rap like Medea's High Speed Divine Words.


  11. #4191
    Time to burn some dread Daneel Rush's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2012
    Location
    Chaldea Naval Base
    Gender
    Male
    Posts
    2,111
    Blog Entries
    1
    Location: Pinefall High Dormitory – Souma Nubatama’s Bedroom (Room 109)
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast



    John planned to get breakfast, but Souma and Alexstrasza have more to say.

    Quote Originally Posted by Souma Nubatama
    “…you are not capable of defending yourself alone, John Dove.”
    “Careful there, Souma. You might hurt my feelings,” John retorts with a blasé, almost sardonic tone. He knows his limitations better than anybody else. Almost to his surprise, there is no inner voice jumping at the chance to remind him of his uselessness. Well, it is not as if the average human carries the expectation of being personally capable of fending a psychopath.

    Nonetheless, he nods at the other young man’s words.

    “Certainly, I will make arrangements to not make the trip alone. May I assume you accede to support Alexstrasza today?”

    Souma also provides a thorough insight into the mind of a serial killer. John does not fail to notice how his pronoun changed from ‘they’ to ‘we’ in the middle of his monologue. It almost feels like he did it on purpose, and John comments not on it. Again, John Dove cares not whether Souma Nubatama happens to be America’s youngest serial killer. He will only start caring the moment that killing desire centers on him or his classmates. Not earlier.

    “There is another thing. I do not know if it allied or unrelated to the Disembodied Man, but there is a second element to be aware of. In that…other version of this week, somebody or something twisted the thoughts of our classmates. Digging at their fears and insecurities, until they gave in to their paranoia and decided to take the most drastic measures to handle those fears and insecurities.” He sighs, carefully avoiding to look at Alexstrasza. “Some of them…did some truly terrible things.”

    He can hear them in his mind: the gunshots, striking Elaine Winters at point-blank.

    He will never forget them.

    “That is why, even if he is not the killer we are looking for, we must be wary of Caleb Montjoy’s situation, and that of others like him. As for information on the killer…”

    Taking a breath to recenter himself, John finds himself able to look at his female classmate again.

    “…I bring up uncomfortable matters, but Alexstrasza is the one here who has actually engaged in dialogue with that person. The Disembodied Man…seems to have a peculiar interest in riling you up, although perhaps that is because Cesarina Feroce was its major target of opportunity on that other week, and it knows you were the one closest to her.”

    Souma then brings up his discoveries concerning the closed portion of the dormitory—which apparently involved the ever-inquisitive Elise Marie Pelltier.

    “Souma, you cannot say something like that and not expect us to inquire on the details. I know this school and this town have had their share of tragedies, but if you have clear evidence of past killings, we need to know. They might be related to the present situation, for all we know. I am beginning to realize a whole bunch of our classmates have a deeper connection to this town that I ever imagined. That they are not here solely because of their status as ‘troubled youth’ or ‘DDS patients’. That they came here with a purpose…well, that likely includes you.”

    Alexstrasza then speaks (and shows) her retort to his commentary on the whole ‘supernatural-as-shared-delusion’ thing. His gaze centers on the flame she conjures, its dullness, its feebleness in no way matching the radiance of her presence. There is no way Alexstrasza Lockhart would create flame this pitiful-looking. So, is this still the effect of the drug, or is it his own unconscious mind, its ‘trust’ in the supernatural now diminished? After all, it is not as if he finds Alexstrasza interesting for her ability to fling fireballs. Her magic is not a thing necessary to him, the way it is necessary to her.

    “You are absolutely right, of course,” he responds to her monologue. “Whether it is the belief in the power intrinsic to supernatural blood, the belief in the usefulness of specific implements, reagents and rituals, or the belief in the capabilities of the human body, normally beyond the reach of the average person…the core of all such powers and abilities is always that: belief. It might be more accurate to call it ‘faith’.”

    The acceptance and reliance on ideas accepted as truth beyond any burden of proof. Such a concept is not exclusive to the religious sphere. Is there a difference between the superstitious villager believing in ghosts, the geometrician accepting as fact that the simplest object is the point, and the child holding to trust that a mother’s love is unconditional?

    “The issue, Alexstrasza, is that the Pinefall project deems the supernatural a defect. A ‘mental disease’ that detaches its victims from the ‘real world’ as perceived by the majority. Their primary objective is to encourage you to reject the supernatural, to detach yourself from it.”

    John has lived a mostly normal life. With his purpose of finding Her now fulfilled, he has no real qualms about turning his back on the Turnside and living the rest of his life away from it. If the Pinefall project could thoroughly convince him that he is not a walking beacon of death, and that he can live the rest of his life in peace without people dropping like flies around him, then he would take all the pills they’d want him to.

    But they cannot do that. What if the power of the metal garment is real? What if it has not been worse because he was constantly moved across the country? What if the deaths escalated and/or accelerated if he stayed on the same place for three, five, ten years? Could he live with that? Could he accept that, denying all personal responsibility, offering nothing but empty words about the ‘lamentable trail of coincidences’ to the grief-stricken families? To law enforcement? To the media?

    “To blindly accept one world as ‘the proper way’. To crassly reject the other as falsity. I cannot accept that as the right answer.”

    The Turnside has no intrinsic value to John Dove himself. However, it is precious to Alexstrasza, to Prushka, to Ultravania, Ubon, Subaru Iburi and Elaine Winters, to Vandemeel and Ramalsaqr, to Pyry and Momoi, to Elise Marie, to Lucille Faraday and to Liana Skye and to who-knows-how-many-others.

    Therein lies its value.

    Alexstrasza then shares her own insights on the Disembodied Man, which lead to her asking him a trick question.

    Quote Originally Posted by Alexstrasza Lockhart
    “Is it wrong, to hate someone for something they cannot remember doing, do you think?”
    “You speak not of the Disembodied Man, but of the one who killed you in that other iteration of this week,” he retorts without a hint of tact. “I know for a fact how realistic the whole experience was, and I understand that it is human nature to harbor ill will towards those who do ill to you.”

    John himself acknowledges the Disembodied Man as his enemy, whatever that means.

    “So, no, I do not deem it ‘wrong’ or ‘evil’ to feel loathing towards that person,” John concludes. “On the other hand, I do not deem it a healthy way to live, either. Those are the kinds of feelings that push people towards making the wrong decisions.”

    Something like a snort escapes his nostrils. Why is he even pretending to be qualified to speak of proper human behaviors and emotions?

    Well, Alexstrasza asked a question. He is providing an answer. Whether it is a useful one or a worthless one is for her to decide.

    “We go back to the subject of ‘belief’: in the end, ‘truth’ at both the general and the local level is established by group consensus, not by the perceptions of a single individual. One person’s prank is everybody else’s travesty. The cries of the criminal’s mother are not heard by those who celebrate his execution. The laments of a prostitute matter not to those who look down on her for her occupation.”

    He makes a pathetically dismissive gesture with both hands, as if saying “it is how it is” in the most defeatist way possible without using words.

    “The tragedy that happened to you is only treated as such if acknowledged by the social group around you. And your hatred of the unknowing victimizer, for good or ill, is not an excuse for, nor an invitation to retaliation.”

    He shrugs.

    “Of course, nothing stops you from doing that. Just, do not expect me or anybody else to nod approvingly…”

    …except perhaps Elaine Winters, but John would not stoop so low as to assume her feelings on the matter in her absence.

    With that said, he lightly slaps his knees with his hands; a judge dropping the hammer to declare the end of the procedures.

    “Does anything remain to be said? I do not want to take much of Souma’s time and, I must insist, I want to take the chance to ask around before people wander off for the day.”

  12. #4192
    死徒二十七祖 The Twenty Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors Mellon's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    Luxembourg
    Age
    33
    Posts
    4,134
    Blog Entries
    1
    Anna Vandemeel
    Location: Pinefall High Dormitory - Common Room
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    "I mean, most of the people with such powers get a bad rap. Met plenty of good and decent people with mind-altering or controlling powers in my time, but then there's always a few bad eggs that ruin the thing for everybody... kinda like witches, huh?"
    A brief snort echoed out, as Anna turned her attention away from the screen towards the white-haired mercenary.

    “Brainwashing people for the greater good, eh?” A lighthearted, almost teasing, note entered the voice of the jacketed girl. “Next we’re going to be chatting about how the numbskulls carrying out pharmakos or narabali rituals are misunderstood.”

    Despite her words, Anna didn’t particularly mind those who dabbled in that particular “aspect” of the Turnside. Both the Campuses of Enchantment and Illusion were rooted in this type of magic, after all. Hell, a large part of her own foundation was based on this, albeit the parts she had absolutely no affinity for. It was just…

    An unbidden wave of revulsion washed over her as she imagined her free will being robbed from her.

    It was irrational. Really. Even she could recognize it. It was hypocritical to accept it as a tool to be used upon others, but not accepting its use on herself. No. Perhaps it was more accurate to say she tolerated its use upon others, provided the situation absolutely demanded it. But when Anna thought about lunatics like Ĺkerblom, she doubted if there was truly a way to use such abilities without some kind of… corruption to your own self. It was all well and good to say that it was all dependent on the goodwill of the person in question, but familiarity bred a certain type of callousness.

    After all, what is “sanctity of free will” after you’ve wiped it away a thousand times?

    For a man with a hammer, every problem looks like a nail.

    Hell, she only need to look at herself to see that, nevermind others.

    “As for witches….” A short burst of laughter filled the room. “I think you’d find a fair number hags at the Glass Castle willing to make the argument that I am one those rotten eggs that are making a mess out of the sterling reputation of witches, you know?”

    The other information that came up during her conversation was filed away in her mind. A blue-eyed, flaxen-haired girl with bags under her eyes. That Discovery woman? No. She was supposed to be their age. Terriot? A shapeshifter locked away in the old part of the dorms. An observer present on the campus. Not in the dorms though, but watching from somewhere elsewhere…

    Limited options in that case. You’d need a proper vantage point…

    “Hmm… Think they’d…!”

    "Anna's got free hands, assault her!"
    “Indy, you idi…GYUH!

    Anna managed to squeeze out only a brief exclamation before being struck by a flying high-speed canine missile. Normally, such a small dog, especially a puppy, leaping at her it wouldn’t have been much of an issue, but considering that she was balancing herself on the armrest of the couch, it was enough to tip the northern girl off balance and push her towards the couch proper.

    Right on top of the Asian girl lazily lounging on it. Of course, followed a moment later by the puppy that had served to cause this entire situation in the first place.

    A moment later, Anna’s head popped out of the tangle of fur and limbs, glaring at Ramia with a renewed purpose.

    “I swear, that damn shoe polish will be the least of your concerns once I get disentangled from this mess.” Her ruby eyes quickly scanned the room. “Should at least have a couple of cartons of that chicken and garlic concoction around…”

    It was then when Anna’s eyes finally found the rest of the group that had arrived… and Kean in particular.

    “Well… that’s a makeover if I’ve ever seen one. I know we all have rough times and whatnot, but… you sure this is the look you wanna go for? Well, its not too bad, but if you’re gonna go all glam rock or moonlight poetry on us, we’re gonna have to have an intervention, y’know?”

  13. #4193
    死徒(上級)Greater Dead Apostle Cheetose's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2018
    Age
    30
    Posts
    614
    Hisa Momoi
    Location: Road's End - Road to McLampet Manor
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    "Yeah, no need to worry," I said as I smiled warmly at Allene, "Nothing can happen that we can't handle. Otherwise, I wouldn't have risked getting you out in the first place."

    Could it be that most of her issues were really due to stress, and her mind thinking that she was supposed to feel ill? It was one of the more likely options in the end, and if she would not feel sick at all now that she was a bit more content with her situation, then that would only play more into that...But then, it hasn't been that long yet, and it's not particularly sunny either, so it would likely be too early to judge.

    For the moment, my mind was busy trying to process a different kind of information as well.

    Namely, what exactly I was supposed to say to her other question.

    How was I, of all people, supposed to answer that?

    "As for the rock thing, umm..."

    My voice grew a bit more quiet as I scratched my cheek awkwardly, all the while the wheels in my head turning rapidly, until they eventually broke down into a screeching halt with no progress made whatsoever.

    “Uhhh…”

    Butt did have a few meanings, yet I came back around to the same one over and over again, and that certainly had nothing at all to do with rock. At least, I hoped.

    “I’ve no idea.”

    My head dropped in obvious disappointment because of my inability to come up with a half decent explanation. Yet, it was better to admit defeat.

  14. #4194
    Click the moon for extra scenes Verg Avesta's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    I'll go to sleep soon.
    Posts
    6,807
    Blog Entries
    71
    Colt Davin & Liana Skye
    Location: Spade Queen Country Club
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994
    Weather: Overcast

    "Vampires, is it...?"

    Sounding slightly amused, Ferguson stroked his chin and nodded.

    "Perhaps I should then find such a fellow to accompany me to this place, or at least someone who knows of such beings," he replied in an almost joking manner - but something in his body language made it clear he wasn't making light of Colt's words. "Still, human or not, mounds of dirt with bones hidden underneath do sound like they are worth checking out. After all, unlike the back lot of some farm, having something like that near an old train station is certainly... odd. If these bones really exist, someone buried them there for a reason."

    The agent looked at Colt with a slightly more serious expression, almost like a teacher trying to make a point to a student and make sure that it would stick.

    "--- Things always happen for a reason. Never without. Even dreams..."

    He paused, just for a moment.

    "They are just us opening up. Letting go of our restraints. Sorting through the information we already have and drawing out conclusions based on our observations... or so a cynic would say. Personally, Colton, I believe dreams to be more than that. In fact, in a way I believe that we all live inside a dream. After all, that is also what a dream is. A hope, a desire, an aspiration - what we deeply want," Ferguson explained, speaking softly but firmly. "And that dream you saw, past the hangman's noose... it may have been, in a way, just that. I know because, not too long ago, I believe I had the same dream... one that ended when you arrived - like a relay, where I was told I would receive the information I sought after. So, Colton, this dream, this wish of yours... you heard the answer to this burning question we have, yet you cannot remember it. Maybe that means you've heard it, but forgotten it? Or perhaps you already know the answer, but don't recognize it as such."

    The older man gripped his cane tighter and a far-away smile appeared on his face for a moment. At the same time, wind blew from somewhere in the distance, gently, and for just a fleeting few seconds Colt was sure he could hear the melodies of a distant saxophone carried by that cold breeze.

    "Our dreams, whether viewed through a cynical or a hopeful lens, are made out of symbols that are important to us. So, Colton... have you thought about the symbols you saw back then?"

    With those words, memories flashed by Colt's mind's eye.

    --- The songbird with the borrowed voice of an old man, singing of the sycamore trees.

    --- The handsome bartender, who always had that bottle with the blue flamingo ready, and had served you before you knew it.

    --- The dapper gentleman with a monocle over his left eye which spun wildly in its socket, for the glass covering it made it mad.

    --- The horned maiden, draped in clothes stolen from the ruin's of someone else's life, found somewhere nowhere had slept in ages.

    --- The well-dressed short man who held all the cards, but was ever only the ruler of his little slice of dream.

    And then...

    --- The cognate who looked so much like Elizaveta Vyraj.

    Quote Originally Posted by The Cognate
    ".sraeppasid ehs dna spans senob reh litnu yaw eht llA .reh gnilgnarts flesym ees I ,semitemos ,tey ...reh wonk I kniht I - I"
    And then, that place itself...

    It wall appeared in a moment, yet was gone in the next, leaving Colt with nothing but the memories they had been.

    "I don't think we should ever ignore our dreams, Colton," Ferguson spoke suddenly, further bringing Colt back from his momentary trance. "Even this message you brought with you... I feel like it's an important one. Very important one. Why, were the situation not as it was at the moment, I've half the mind to head out immediately to seek out the old train yard, but... Ah, well. In fact, there's multiple things that should be dealt with first. Namely..."

    The agent's eyes turned towards the entrance of the country club, and as Colt followed his gaze, he could see the familiar sight of a certain auburn-haired girl emerging from the building. Cathie looked around for a bit, spotted Ferguson and the boy and waved her hand, catching their attention.

    "Hey, guy! Breakfast's ready!" Her clear voice rang out. "Get your butts inside so we can get some grub and start the day properly!"

    Scottie chuckled at the girl's words and gestured for Colt to walk with him.

    "Shall we, then?"

    Without much in terms of other options, the duo finally made their way back to the country club proper, and having caught up with Cathie who was there waiting, entered the lobby once more. Once inside, the strange emotions and atmosphere that lay outside felt even further away as the delicious smells coming from the kitchen wafted all the way here, enticing everyone who smelled them and making their mouths water. Cathie even looked a bit smug as she marched ahead of the two men, clearly proud of her handiwork.

    "Let's see if that can't wake up those two sleepyheads too," the girl commented, nodding towards the sleeping forms of the Omkara siblings. "L said she would be right behind me, so--- Oh, there she is."

    Cathie, however, could only blink in confusion at the sight that appeared from the hallway leading towards the kitchens.

    "Err... what'cha guys doing?"

    Indeed, there was a good reason for her confusion. Liana Skye had made her return, yes, but instead of doing it normally... she did it while giving a piggyback ride to a rather disgruntled looking Aleen, who was clearly deeming this to be far too embarassing, yet had no strength to exactly refuse either. Just one look at the bluehead's face made it clear that she was suffering from the after-effects of the chemical that had been used to knock her out... making it almost like she was in the throes of the worst hangover ever.

    "Uuuurgh..." Aleen gargled, putting hand over her mouth. "Y-you said you were used to this, but... this ship's totes in the middle of a storm. It keeps rocking and swaying every which way...!"

    Sierra, who was trailing behind the two girls, gazed upon them with a hint of pity in her eye.




    Prushka?
    Location: Pinefall High Pool Building
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    Jake blinked in mild surprise.

    "Conspiracy theories, local folklore and urban legends, huh...?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, before grinning a little. "Yeah. I mean, I guess I can be down with that. I don't know that much - I mean, I'm not much the reading type. But I do hear a thing here or a thing there, meaning that I might have something to scratch your itch. Just don't go expecting me to be some sorta walking encyclopedia."

    The janitor's particular choice of words made Ahti look somewhat confused again, and he glanced towards Prushka. Then, for some reason, he looked at his own hand - his claws in particular - and sort of stretched his fingers as if he was wondering whether or not he should do something with them. Something that, for some reason, felt like it could ignite the particular trouble that had just been avoided.

    "Itch... what, were you in need of scratching, Imp?" Ahti wondered aloud. "You have a rash or something?"

    While Jake proceeded to nearly choke on his drink, Inacio let out a quiet chuckle and stood up from the chair that he had been sitting on. The Lusitanian ran his fingers through his hair and smiled quietly at everyone present, Ahti in particular.

    "I think he meant that figuratively. At least, I hope he did," Inacio spoke, chuckling again. "Anyways, figurative rash or not, I think that's where I'll draw the line. Or rather, while this sounds somewhat interesting, I have to be on my way now. Lots to do on a Saturday after all. Though... maybe I'll see you all later?"

    Ahti frowned a little, but then sunk back in his chair and shrugged.

    "... Yeah, I guess?"

    From the looks of it, at least Inacio didn't that the wrong way, as his smile stayed on his face.

    "Sounds good. Then. Gentlemen. Prushka."

    With a tip of his head, the guitarist made his way to the door leading back to the staircase, and made a somewhat abrupt and quick exit. Not enough to be seen as rude, but it was quite clear that he had no real interesting in local myths or urban legends. Jake, on the other hand, watched the green-haired young man leave, his narrowed eyes following the guitarist's every step until the door had closed and there was no more line of sight.

    Indeed, while Prushka had defused the immediate situation, it didn't look like she had defused Jake's suspicions regarding her classmate.

    Still, with Inacio gone, the janitor turned back to Prushka and relaxed a little, taking a sip from his can of cola.

    "A-ny-ways... got anything specific you wanna talk about, then?" He asked. "Elaboration on some rumour or another you've heard?"




    Alexstrasza Lockhart and John Dove
    Location: Pinefall High Dormitory – Souma Nubatama’s Bedroom (Room 109)
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    ".............. Heh. Not on my end at least."

    Having said that, Souma walked back over to his desk and opened the first drawer. From there, he picked up something that looked awfully lot like a short leather sheath of something, and a black handle with a grooved grip attached to it. That same item was then slipped into the sleeves of his eastern clothes and when he turned around, it was almost as if nothing at all had happened - or rather, the one-eyed boy didn't seem to even acknowledge the suspicious thing he had done. Instead, his stare fell onto Alexstrasza.

    "I'll accompany her to the outbuilding. And further, if necessariy. Let's say it... sates my boredom, if nothing else," the boy said and changed his target to John. "I suppose we'll compare notes later today, if nothing unexpected comes up, then."

    With that, he gestured for the two to get moving. The morning was, indeed, moving further and further along and the time in each day was limited.

    However, as the trio was making their exit from the room, Souma stopped for just a moment.

    "......... Oh yes."

    He smiled in an enigmatic way.

    "The state of the abandoned part of the dormitory. I'm not... sure if Elise Pelltier noticed, but..." Souma reached out and touched the wall with his fist, as if he could feel something there. "... the patterns were different. Some were heavy. Impacts. Blunt force. Blood left behind by that spreads out evenly in most directions. But few of the stains here and there... the floor and the walls..."

    Souma changed his fist by extending two his fingers into a blade of sorts, and drawing a sharp line upwards.

    "..... Spray pattern. Blood, bursting from a singular wound - high pressure. Guided by a sharp object and it's arc when used," the boy continued. "... Not a mark left behind by whatever else was there. And some of those spray patterns... felt more crude than others."

    He let go of the wall and shrugged his shoulders.

    "Perhaps the same culprit. Perhaps not. But that's in the past. Now..."

    He opened the door and gestured both Alexstarsza and John to walk through it.

    "--------- Shall we get to work?"




    Hisa Momoi
    Location: Canseliet Clinic
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    It took a bit of searching, but eventually, the group was able to find the place they had been looking for - mostly thanks to Allene's vague memories of it and because of Hisa's intuition.

    While the people in the car had spent most of the time during the time arguing about the intricacies of rock (or in Pyry's case, arguing that 'butt rock' wasn't a real thing and Mercedes was insisting on it to annoy him), when the singular house came to view they all fell silent. Perhaps they could all feel it, a strange sort of aura that the building had despite looking absolutely normal. Indeed, it was quite like that regular people wouldn't have even spared a second thought to the place. But for those attuned to the Turnside, there was just something about it that made things feel... off. Just a little bit.

    Or, in Hisa's case... she recognized the sudden fragrance in the air.

    --- The smell of the Fae Realms.

    Wilderness beyond this world, another fabric laid atop this world that we inhabited, a place hidden in the nooks and crannies of the old world where people no longer dared to roam. That smell of deepest, most ancient forests hung heavy in the air, mixed in with the rustic fragrances of the Pacific Northwest. Bonfires in the night, coarse fur of an animal, mushrooms in the rain, pine needles in your hair, moss covering a log, rough stone sitting amidst clovers... it was all there. Like smoke from freshly-burning wood mixing in with a drizzle from an overcast sky. It was all there. At least... in smell. Nothing of it could be seen with a naked eye, but she was sure of it - it was there.

    Just like that familiar sight of a fairy ring at the lawn of the house.

    "Wait... is that...?"

    Pyry's sudden mutter caught Hisa's attention, and her eyes moved from the lawn of the simple-looking house to the driveway leading up to the open garage door. Through the garage door one could see what looked to be a home clinic of some sort - a very well stocked one, in fact. And someone seemed to be in there, sitting on a chair and writing something on a clipboard stacked with papers. But while that person was veiled in shadows and could not be made out properly... the person at the driveway could be.

    They had brought a sturdy-looking chair there, to the outside, and next to them, on the ground, was a set of metal dumbells. Five pairs were unused, but one of them was currently in the grips of the person sitting on the previously mentioned chair, being used in the way that dumbells were meant to be - in other words, weight training. And as for the person sitting on that chair...

    Blonde hair on a ponytail, blue eyes, somewhat tall stature...

    --- Hisa had seen this girl before, hadn't she?

    "Isn't that the girl that was with Colt?" Pyry wondered, looking at Hisa besides him. "Err, what was her name again..."

    Yes, it definitely was. And as that girl saw the car approaching, she shot a slightly confused look to it, but kept up with her weight training, waiting for them to come to a halt.

    And as for the person inside... when she saw the car pull up to the driveway and come to a halt, Hisa could see them write few more notes before setting the clipboard aside. Then, with graceful ease, they stood up and the labcoat they were wearing fluttered slightly. It was still to hard to see that person, but even from this far away, Hisa could recognize another fragrance...

    ... Mountain flowers?

    Distant, cold mountains and flowers blooming on their slopes?

    That was a rather... strange smell for this area - and yet it was not. But even though she could not see this other person clearly yet, the sensations she felt and the way the skin on her arms turned to goosebumps for a moment...

    ... This was definitely a place blessed by, or lived in by, the fae.

  15. #4195
    The Time-Governing Twelve Covenants Airen's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    Velvet Room
    Age
    31
    Posts
    7,060
    Blog Entries
    5
    Liana Skye/Sora Hikari
    Location: Spade Queen Country Club
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994
    Weather: Overcast


    "I'm not shaking too badly dear, I'm pretty sure that's just the aftereffects of the chemical cocktail."

    Certainly, the raven-haired girl could be remarkably immune to embarrassment; arms tucked motionlessly beneath the legs of her passenger, the look on the girl's face shows none of the redness, no...

    Merely determined eyes, ones lit with hints of both amusement and poorly hidden anxiety...

    "But I'm sorry if it wasn't quite to your liking, last night I treated you a bit more like a princess, but i didn't think you'd take to the idea very well under these circumstances, like..."

    One arm strengthens as the other one loosens, the first of many slow but clean movements that removes the girl from her back while simultaneously moving her forward, into her arms in the traditional princess carry.

    ---As expected, no embarrassment emerges from the young woman at this action, merely the flicker of an amused smile...

    "This is more embarrassing right? But if you'd like, I can bring you over to the table like this..."

    For just a moment, a deeper, teasing voice, like she was trying to imitate some sort of fairy tale prince...?

    ---Yep.

    Remarkably brazen, Liana Skye, although...

    Her gaze moves to the others just as quickly, after all, in the end, her anxieties had been what had driven her out here in the first place.

    "As for what I'm doing, it's patient transport to a safer area, before I go looking for my friend, who seems intent on never relying on me for anything!"

    That last part emerges as a bit of a grumble, albeit, a worried grumble...

    "By that I mean Thorne, naturally. Went upstairs to check out last night's scene after Sierra and I woke up, said it wouldn't take too long... According to Aleen, she woke up when he went hurrying out the door, which sounds like he might be getting himself into trouble to me. Maybe I'm just being paranoid after all the trouble we had last night, but he said he'd stay in yelling distance and going outside is very much not yelling distance."

    The grumbling continues.

    "Have any of you guys seen him? I assume he would have had to get past all of you to go wherever he was going..."
    Last edited by Airen; November 6th, 2021 at 05:46 AM.
    Exodus (Complete)

    Even if the author is silenced, the performance is stilled and the actors leave the stage, the story will never truly end.

    Regardless of the form it takes, as long as there are memories of it's existence, the story will continue on.

    In a small ward in the heart of a once devastated town, life carries on as it always has...

    Because of you.

    Please, remember it warmly.

    We'll continue to walk down this path for eternity.




    Mugen No Sekai

    "The Illusion Incomplete Memories Produce Are,

    Fleeting, Disappearing into the Future,

    Until the Ruins of Yesterday Overflow,

    For That Which Falls Only to Rise is Simply a--"

  16. #4196
    死徒(上級)Greater Dead Apostle Cheetose's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2018
    Age
    30
    Posts
    614
    Hisa Momoi
    Location: Canseliet Clinic
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    “She most certainly is,” I answered Pyry with my eyebrows raised, “Her name was Tris...something.”

    My name memory wasn’t the best in the first place, but I could recall her name being quite extreme to begin with. Something about being a knight...But considering what the marshmallow man turned out to be, I had my doubts regarding her as well.

    More importantly, however…

    Why was she here alone? At a clinic, of all places? She was supposed to be with Colt, to make sure that he was safe...Did something happen? Or was he here as well?

    No, his bike would likely be here as well in that case.

    Still, there must have been an explanation.

    He can’t have been that careless and inconsiderate, but then...maybe he was, and maybe that’s why he met such a tragic fate last time. Not that the rest of us didn’t, but as an ordinary human, he should definitely be more careful even than us.

    As we approached the garage and the girl exercising just in front of it, the light breeze carrying a rather characteristic scent reminded me of what exactly this place was. Something that, with the rather surprising encounter, almost slipped my mind, if just for a moment.

    It was a scent that was all too familiar, and one that inevitably brought a warm smile to my face. It hasn’t even been a year since the last time, and yet, it felt like it was way too long ago. It reminded me of the one place I could call home, and despite much of that being lost and gone, I tried to remember it for the best of it. Something that I definitely wouldn’t have expected to find here, of all places…

    It seemed that the person sitting inside the garage itself - supposedly the owner of the clinic, and in that case, most likely the fae - noticed us as well, but even as she stood up it did not become any easier to clearly see her. Still, the faint scent mixing in with the rest that was originating from her made me almost certain that it was her we were looking for, and thus, I stopped in my tracks within a comfortable speaking distance, and just a step or two outside of the perimeter of shrooms laying around the house itself.

    “I thought it would have been less obvious, but perhaps my nose is just attuned to these sort of things,” I said while glancing down at the peculiar mushrooms as I traced their outline with one feet, “Still, it’s weird to see one of your kind so far from home. A pleasant coincidence, I would say, if it wasn’t for this place already proving that there are no coincidences here.”

    Of course, something like this was, most definitely, just a coincidence.

    Though, how long she’s been here, and how much she knew, was something I definitely wondered about…

    “My name is Ougi Outis,” I continued with just the slightest bow, “I hope we aren’t bothering, it being the weekend and all.”

    “Hey there, Tris,” I added as my eyes turned towards the girl, “It’s good to see that you’re doing...okay?”

    It was hard to tell. She looked perfectly fine on the outside, but there had to be a reason why she was here, and I doubted that it was because she lived here.
    Last edited by Cheetose; November 24th, 2021 at 12:10 PM.

  17. #4197
    Vlovle Bloble's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2011
    Location
    Ontario, Canadia
    Gender
    Male
    Posts
    11,829
    JP Friend Code
    http://forums.nrvnqsr.com
    Blog Entries
    5
    Prushka?
    Location: Pinefall High Pool Building
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    "See ya, Inacio. Don't get yourself in trouble."

    Seems like he has elsewhere to be, or is just not too keen on staying here. I wanted to ask you about a buncha stuff, Inacio, but it looks like you're keeping your cards close to your chest. Well, we're not really close or anything, so it makes sense that you'd not want to reveal anything like that.

    Still, you're my classmate too.

    "But if you're gonna do spicy teenager things today, drag a buddy in with you! It's really an awful time to be going around solo."

    That warning's all I can offer you now. Stay safe.

    As the door closes behind us, I scooch closer to Ahti.

    "See, Scrooge? You'll have more friends than you know what to do with by next week! Inacio's a nice guy. Plays good guitar too. And uh, no back-scratching, thanks. Unless you're feeling itchy?"

    Then I turn away, affixing Jake Briggs with my scariest smile.

    Quote Originally Posted by Jake Briggs
    "A-ny-ways... got anything specific you wanna talk about, then? Elaboration on some rumour or another you've heard?"
    "Well first thing's first, that plank and water bucket trick was pretty good. But now..."

    Jake Briggs. Now that he's in front of me again, I'm strangely reluctant to speak. Like my mind is telling me he isn't the simple janitor he makes himself out to be. Sure, he reads way too many mystery novels and is all too willing to team up with Hisa to do suspicious things, but those points of information don't really matter. It's more like... hm. Angelica's message comes to mind. Saying we should accost the janitor. But accost about what?

    Alright, let's divide things up then. And while I'm at it, test something.

    All the townsfolk know about DDS, right? I wonder, then...



    "Poof."

    I wiggle my fingers his way, putting on an exaggerated squint right out of an old Western.

    "Imagine, like, an interrogation light. The room's all dark except for the light. And it's all shiny and irritating. Good Cop Prushka's gone. Bad Cop Prushka's here. She's smoking a cigarette from a carton of Lucky Strikes and the smoke's making the light all foggy."

    I can almost imagine the scenario myself. Of course my psychic abilities can't do anything like that. And it can easily be taken as a joke. But will it be?

    "There are three cards on the table before you." I mime drawing and laying down cards from an invisible deck. "One has a painting of a school on it, with a sewer system stretching below and a clock tower rising above. The second is a polaroid of a some kids in classroom, with '1987' scrawled on it. And the last one has a portrait of a surly boy, little taller than the small girl next to him. They might both be muttering something about how humans are awful."

    We'll start there.

    "Pick a card. Any card."

    Sorry, Jake. This might be a bit uncomfortable. Please bear with it.
    Last edited by Bloble; November 3rd, 2021 at 06:58 PM.

  18. #4198
    Click the moon for extra scenes Verg Avesta's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    I'll go to sleep soon.
    Posts
    6,807
    Blog Entries
    71
    Hisa Momoi
    Location: Canseliet Clinic
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    "O-oh! Salutations His... err... Ashiga...?"

    Tris, who had jumped up from her bench and left her dumbells behind when she sad the people emerging from the car looked mighty confused for a moment, tilting her head with a look of a person trying to wrack their brains to recognize inconsistency with something she had just heard. Pyry chuckled at the sight. The boy was leaning on the roof of his car, taking in the peculiar, nigh-hidden oddities of the otherwise completely normal suburban house.

    "Eh, don't let it bother you, Tris. She's the person you think she is," the boy replied. "Anyways, yeah, good to see that you're doing okay. Though, why are you here? We thought you were glued to Colt?"

    Looking a bit embarrassed, the blonde girl rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

    "Aahh, verily yes... that art mine duty and cross to beareth, yet I hath to admitteth, things gotteth a bit... troubling yesterday," the blonde girl answered with an awkward chuckle. "It seemeth that I hath collapsedeth in the forest while we wereth spelunkingeth through itteth, and thus honorable Colt doth brougteth me here to recuperate and to rest. I hath been here for whole night, and this morning I finally awakenedeth. And, erm, well, thus here I art, waiting for Colt to come picketh me up!"

    Hisa could practically hear Mercedes rolling her eyes at the blonde girl's overly exaggerated archaic style of speech.

    Still, it seemed like something had happened last night and Tris ended up requiring the services of this very doctor. Did that mean that Colt and whoever were with him were planning to come here later as well? And more importantly, what exactly had happened to Tris, then?

    "Yes. She has been my patient for a day now. Though her recovery is showing good progress."

    A lilting, song-like voice called out to the group, it's husky tone deeper than one might have usually expected from a woman. As Hisa's eyes turned to look towards the garage door, she saw the woman from before emerging, revealing her physical form to those who were present. She was relatively short, dressed in an overly long labcoat that had sleeves so big her hands disappeared within them. Dark brown hair and eyes, and a strange smile that wasn't quite human enough to fool the trained eye - and would have made even the untrained eye slightly unnerved.

    And that scent. It was now stronger than ever.

    Yes, this woman... she had to be the fae in question, the one Hisa had sensed. But, if that was the case... what type was she? Appearing in lithe, humanoid body was a big clue, same as the earthern colours she presented, along with pale skin. The scent of mana around her was almost unnoticeable, meaning that her body must have been either made out of pure prana, or perhaps it even was a created flesh-and-blood body for the spirit to occupy. And then there was her natural grace and the way her voice commanded the attention of those who heard it - meaning that she must have had some passive charm-like effects, too.

    And then there was her chosen occupation, that of a doctor - a healer. A being tangling with illness itself.

    Could it be... was she an elf?

    Not to mention, the hint of unknown vistas of nature that combined into that nature. An elf of Scottish lore? Of Norse myths?

    It was hard to say.

    "Ah, wherever are my manners? Good to meet you, Ashiga Outis. My name is Dorothy Canseliet," the fae introduced herself, mischievous glint in her eyes. "I have to say, I cannot remember the last time I've gotten this many guests - especially so many at once. Perhaps I should break out the good tea once more, fufufu..."

    The way she said those names... Hisa immediately understood that being a fae, this 'Dorothy Canseliet' was not fooled by a fake name. And indeed, by the way she emphasized her own name, she had made it known that she was going under an alias as well. After all, using true names with the fae was always tricky business, and one should never give a fae your name when asked, lest it be used in some dubious manner... but at the very least, this doctor didn't seem bothered by Hisa's subterfuge. If anything, she seemed to welcome it, having realized that she was interacting with someone who knew of the old ways.

    "Now then... what may I help you with? Tris here is more or less healthy as a horse, so I have time. The trouble was with her memories anyways," Dorothy continued and glanced towards the blonde girl, who smiled sheepishly again. "Is it perhaps something that ails all of you? Or maybe just one of you in particular..."

    Her eyes scanned the group... and at this point, Hisa realized that for some reason, Allene was hiding behind her and Pyry's backs.




    Elaine Winters, Anna Vandemeel & John Dove
    Location: Pinefall High Dormitory - Common Room
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    "Don't worry. I'm not that desperate."

    Kean snorted.

    "It's just that thanks to past few day's events, I've got literal ghost juices running through me now, ooOOooo~" the boy continued, wiggling his fingers in a spooky manner. "... That means I'm pretty sure I'm gunked up with residual ectoplasm, which didn't agree with my form changer. Result is... well this. Not that I'm complaining, at least I'm still in on piece."

    The boy then folded his arms and for some reason, shot a slightly smug look at Elaine for some reason.

    "--- Plus some people seem to dig it."

    While the silver-haired boy cackled to himself, Subaru realized the situation Anna had ended up in, and hurried over to the sofa. She picked up the overly cheerful puppy from the pile (thus stopping its tongue's assault on Anna's face) and set Tonkori down, where it sat and wagged its tail with a satisfied look on its face. Clearly the dog knew exactly what it had done, and was now enjoying the sight, the fruit of its labors.

    "O-oh my gosh, I am so sorry... umm, here!" Subaru apologized frantically before reaching out with her hand. "I-I will help pull you out, so let us get you two untangled..."

    However, as she pulled Anna up from the couch and standing again, Subaru managed to take a look underneath the raven-haired girl, and...

    "Umm... Miss Coastrise? Are you..." Subaru hesitated. "... Are you alright?"

    The results of the dog-driven crash were there for all to see, splayed on the sofa. Having managed about a half-a-turn's worth of movement when she had realized danger, Zhou Coastrise lay half-buried in the sofa, her face pressed against the leather surface and her legs sticking out in slightly weird angles. Moreover, her juicebox had been crushed under the girls' combined weight, and the last remnants of the juice had splashed onto the floor...

    ... Floor where Zhou, with the last of her strength apparently, had written something in the juice, almost like a dying message.

    "Anna Vandee..."

    No, scratch that - this accusatory message that trailed off was definitely a dying message, that of a victim naming their killer!

    It was into such a scene that John Dove walked into, having made his way from Souma's room back to the common rooms. A scene of a murder victim pitifully whining into the sofa cushions with air having been driven out of her lungs, the culprit having been caught red-handed and her murder weapon being her crushing bottom more or less, and a group of witnesses having seen it all happen.

    Ramia, still sitting on her armchair, snorted loudly as she saw the boy.

    "Perfect timing, detective. Looks like we have a cold-blooded murder in our hands," the husky-voiced girl said to her. "And plenty of leads to go on with, too."

    She snickered a bit.

    "... Unless, of course, you're hankering for a bite in which case Winters' idea sounds much more productive."




    Prushka?
    Location: Pinefall High Pool Building
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    When Prushka started to describe the imaginary situation, Jake looked somewhat confused, but eventually simply decided to go with the flow - as if there ever was a time when the trusty janitor of Pinefall didn't simply go with the flow. Most likely he was thinking that this was just a set-up of sorts, a way to get everyone present in the right mood to talk about spooky rumours and local urban legends. He event went as far as to close his eyes momentarily, try to imagine the situation with his mind's eye... though for some reason he seemed to find the mental image of Bad Cop Prushka rather amusing, as he stiffled a snort.

    However, when Prushka started describing the cards, his expression changed. The first card made Jake look a bit uncomfortable, as if it was something he didn't like to think about. The second made him look thoughtful, like he had mused about it before as well. And the third one... the third one made a momentary grimace, so quick that it was gone by the time Prushka noticed it, appear.

    It was at that point that Jake opened his eyes.

    The third card... it had clearly made him uncomfortable.

    "W-well, eh..." the janitor pondered for a moment. "... The first card, I guess?"

    He hesitated for a moment more, but then nodded.

    "Yeah, the first card."

    Having said that, the janitor looked at the sturdy metal door with a sturdy metal lock in the room - the door opposite of the one that Prushka and Ahti had used to enter the office with.

    "... If you're talking about the sewers, that's one place to access it, I'm pretty sure. Like, that door there leads to the boiler room of this building, which I check about daily - and there's this trap door there that leads down to a staircase. I've sneaked a peek a couple of times, but the damn place is so dark and smelly that uh... no thanks. I'm in no hurry to get chomped by a sewer-gator or whatever else's down there," the janitor explained, scrunching up his nose. "Not only that, but sometimes when I'm doing the evening check on the boiler, I'm pretty sure I can hear... sounds from down there. Maybe. It's almost sounds like someone's talking, or maybe whispering but... actually never mind. I bet it's just my imagination. You know how nights in a big empty building can be."

    Looking like he'd rather not delve too deep into that, Jake pressed on.

    "And if you're talking about a tower here at the school, you gotta mean the clock tower, right? On the second floor? The thing is, dudette... even I barely know anything about that. I've been told not to clean up at the second floor, and even if I can get there, the tower's a no go. See, that lock there? None of my keys work on that - and I checked some time ago," Jake continued. "I think that some of the teachers might have a key though. Mr. Mao has one, I'm pretty sure. Or at the very least, that's the one key in my keyring to this place that he has and I lack. But then again, I don't think there's much there, dudes. Should be just dust and stuff, like everywhere else."

    He shrugged slightly.

    "Sorta shame too, since from what I can understand, there used to be this big ol' clock face that some local artisans... Mitchells I think... had made back in the day. Apparently looked pretty neat, too," he added. "Hm... wonder if that thing's still over there?"

  19. #4199
    Glorious Grammar Master Race Frantic Author's Avatar
    Join Date
    Feb 2012
    Location
    SPACE.
    Age
    28
    Gender
    Male
    Posts
    2,593
    Blog Entries
    5
    Alexstrasza Lockhart
    Location: Pinefall High Dormitory – Souma Nubatama’s Bedroom (Room 109)
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994 (SAT)
    Weather: Overcast

    I listened patiently to John, tilting my head as he spoke.

    It's only natural to hate others? And yet, I do not feel as if I hate the Assassin any longer, so much as I hate the concept of the Assassin. Is the Church wrong, or am I truly a villain? What does it mean, to 'live'? To experience the endless repeating nature of this time, and this place? The Assassin, who slew me, was not a figment of my imagination, nor was it a simple possibility amongst countless possibilities - it was a deified reality, that I was fortunate enough to escape. Something I may have experienced before, and likely will experience again. The blood that I have created threatens to flood my very soul, drowning me up to my eyes in corpses.

    The things I stand on are all corpses, really. The corpse of a mother I do not know, the corpse of a father who I never met. The corpses of students masquerading as allies. The corpses of teachers pretending to be guardians. In the end, everything around me is simply a corpse that happens to have attained individuality. Even those individuals, however, are still subsumed by their own surroundings. This half-life that everyone lives through here, isn't it really disgusting? Hey, Potemkin, do you think that anyone we've met has ever truly lived? Or are we all just walking happily towards our deaths?

    Ahh...

    I really don't get it at all.

    I watched as John left, staring curiously after him, his warning ringing in my ears. But... does it really matter? Hey, Potemkin - does the judgement of others ever stop us from doing what we want? Do others thoughts, their feelings, their hopes, dreams, and fears -- why should they stop us from ripping our desires from the heavens themselves?

    This is a world of give and take. If you give too much to it, you are taken in return. It is not a place of peace and ease, there is no lackadaisical way forward that can be showcased to prevent us from being devoured whole. This is just the reality of life itself. I smiled, bright and wide at Souma, holding up a single finger.

    "And so, the human leaves the two monsters to their disturbed whims," I said, inclining my head as I winked at the murderer. "And what are two monsters to do, knowing yet another one is on the loose?"

    I held up another finger, forming a V.

    "Naturally, we must investigate! Do you wish to accompany me to, shall we say, 'break and enter' into the room of this mysteriously vanishing student?"
    Last edited by Frantic Author; November 3rd, 2021 at 03:07 PM.
    in the end we will make thoughtcrime impossible, for there shall be no words to express it

    #THELEGENDNEVERDIES

    [01:05.15] <@Spinach> I can flash gang signs faster than Sasuke can perform ninjutsu and I rap like Medea's High Speed Divine Words.


  20. #4200
    地獄待ち Spinach's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2011
    Age
    30
    Posts
    16,094
    Blog Entries
    3
    Colt Davin
    Location: Spade Queen Country Club
    Phase: Morning Phase
    Date: 10.09.1994
    Weather: Overcast


    "I don't think we should ever ignore our dreams, Colton. Even this message you brought with you... I feel like it's an important one. Very important one. Why, were the situation not as it was at the moment, I've half the mind to head out immediately to seek out the old train yard, but... Ah, well. In fact, there's multiple things that should be dealt with first. Namely..."

    "Hey, guy! Breakfast's ready! Get your butts inside so we can get some grub and start the day properly!"

    "Shall we, then?"


    “Let’s.” Thoughts of the Chevron Lounge filled Colt’s mind, but the present, the reality he stood in, pulled him back. The voice of the older man, the lingering smell of last night’s rain, they anchored him down, held him from drifting off. “But I agree though. I’ve come to appreciate my dreams, lately.”

    He thought of the robed puer aeternus and its curiosity that he played along with and fed, sometimes literally, in his sleep.

    “I’d join you at the rail yard if I could, but I have things I’ve gotta do too.” A certain blonde was likely still waiting on him. Colt couldn’t imagine her wandering off, not with the doctor’s watchful eye on her. “But the first thing I’ve gotta do is eat.

    Colt waved back at Cathie Walker.

    “We’re coming!”

    And was once more welcomed within the Spade Queen’s spacious walls.

    "Let's see if that can't wake up those two sleepyheads too. L said she would be right behind me, so--- Oh, there she is."

    L? Liana?

    The short-lived question was answered immediately, as Colt’s classmate appeared with his other classmate along for the ride, literally.

    "Err... what'cha guys doing?"

    "Uuuurgh… Y-you said you were used to this, but... this ship's totes in the middle of a storm. It keeps rocking and swaying every which way...!"

    "As for what I'm doing, it's patient transport to a safer area, before I go looking for my friend, who seems intent on never relying on me for anything!"

    Then, with that devilish smile, ever faint, so fleeting was its existence that blinking might mean missing it entirely, Liana maneuvered the blue-haired girl from her back to her arms, carrying her like a princess, or perhaps a bride.

    “Well, I guess Princess Aleen’s well enough to complain, so I’ll call that a win.” Colt commented, glancing from the two girls to the still sleeping residents of the couch. “I guess I can switch from duty as replacement legs to working as an alarm clock, though I doubt either wants to be woken up, seeing as they’re sleeping so soundly.”

    He glanced at the Omkara siblings.

    “But sleeping through breakfast that somebody cooked for you is just plain rude, y’know?”

    He shrugged, and headed over to the couch, ready to do the grim deed. Indeed, it was regrettable. Nobody should have to shoulder such a burden, and he would not at all think of this as the tiniest, most petty, insignificant revenge for the blast to his chest and being put on Replacement Legs duty. No, he dearly wished not to disturb the peacefully sleeping Kajal and her brother, who had earned their rest with blood.

    Colt Davin would never hold a petty grudge, nor would he admit that the ache in his stomach was far more likely to be the bruising that she had given him, rather than hunger.

    Then again, it was more likely that she would simply open her eyes robotically, without betraying any emotion, and address Colton Replacement Legs Davin with a casual good morning, followed by fawning over her beloved brother.

    So did Colt predict his not-at-all revenge as he got closer and prepared to try and wake the girl.

    “As for the mosquito, haven’t seen him since I woke up. Been a great morning so far, hopefully that doesn’t change.”


Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •