You Who I Called Brother [Active/Very much Open]
Characters: Murdoc, Open
Setting: Just outside the Entrance Hall in a hallway
Time: Night 18
Summary: Murdoc lands in Dollsyhouse.
Warnings: Language
His head hurt.
A lot.
A bit like it did when faceache had clobbered him with a shovel.
That kind of pain.
Throbbing, sharp and dull at the same time.
Murdoc groaned and pushed himself up so that he was more or less sitting upright.
And only then did he finally look around at his surroundings.
He had no idea where he was. It didn't look like anywhere in Kong, Stoke-on-Trent, or his Winnebago. It was way too nice to be his 'bago. old. but nice. Sure the walls were cracked and faded and the carpet was molting, but there was something grand about it.
Something rich.
"Where the 'ell am I?' He muttered to himself, his voice piercing the heavy silence that had been surrounding him. With his knees wobbling dangerously, Murdoc rose to his feet and steadied El Diablo against his back. At least he had his bass with him.
"'Ello? Tusspot? Lards? You there?" Somehow, the Satanist knew that his cries were in vain. They weren't there, he just knew it. He could feel it down in his old bones. Creaking with a sense of foreboding; his Noods wasn't there, neither was Cortez.
He, Murdoc Nicalls, was alone.
Alone.
And he felt it deep in his shriveled heart.
"'Ello?" He called again, this time cupping his hands around his mouth to project his gruff voice through the strange home.
No answer.
"Dammit," Murdoc growled and hiked his pants up before stomping off through the hall. He was going to find somebody who could help him, no matter if he was lost and confused.
Satan help him if he couldn't.
El Diablo bounced against Murdoc's back as the angry, green man stormed through the hallways. Murdoc was somewhat comforted by the presence of his most prized possession. It, plus the weight of the inverted cross around his neck, calmed him a little.
At least he had them if nothing else.
Murdoc's boots clopped noisily against the worn carpet, so loud that he almost missed the growls signaling from behind him. Stopping mid-step, Murdoc turned slowly around and faced the ugliest creature he had ever seen (besides ol' Sebastian Jacob Nicalls that is) The dog...thing snarled, baring dripping fangs. Murdoc instinctively stepped back and held his hands up in front of him as if to fend off the Hellhound barehanded.
"Fuck me," Murdoc sighed as the beast pounced.