chapter 5 - the ambiance improves, and foreshadowing ensues

[toolshedarsenal]

[after having a bit of trouble getting his costume on in the dark, Mort's made his way down to the lobby to admire the new decorations. he's currently leaning on the table, a bag on the table beside him, the journal in hand]Now, this is more like it. This is the kind of thing a mystery writer expects from a magic castle. I have to tell you,

Comments

[chasingvisions]

You got bit too, huh?

[toolshedarsenal]

Yeah. Stings like nobody's business, too.

[chasingvisions]

I know, right? I hope whatever it was wasn't rabid or something.

[toolshedarsenal]

Ooh. Yeah, that'd suck. [ahahahaha unwitting pun] I hadn't thought of that. [considers it] At least it's not starting to go oogy around the edges. So whatever it was isn't poisonous.

[queendramabitch]

[Lucy's costume this year is a Victorian mourning gown--it was what she found in her wardrobe before the thing began to resemble nothing so much as a passageway to hell, at any rate. She finds it morbidly appropriate.

She didn't mind this week so much when the lights were still mostly working, but now she's getting edgy--ever since Utopia, being in too much darkness has bothered her. But she doesn't know where to go, since the entire castle has been affected. Mort's message, therefore, comes as something of a relief]

[Mort]

Is that so?

Lucy!

[toolshedarsenal]

Very much so. Care to join me?

Mort

[queendramabitch]

If I can make my way there without falling into a trap door.

[she puts her journal and pen into a pouch under her skirts and braves the hallway]

Torture Room Filter

[toolshedarsenal]

[he makes his way up there alright, with a close call or two when he nearly falls into a trap door. the monsters and such are just plain amusing to him, and once she arrives, he's leaning against the frame of the door, patiently, adjusting the ruffled cuffs of his costume]

Milady. [shoots her an amused smile, because they sort of match, costume-wise, and neither of them planned it]