The lights are fading out once more (Active/Simi-Closed)
Characters: Portgas D. Ace, Lantern Keeper
Setting: Mother's Study
Time: Night 19
Summary: Ace goes into the Mother's Study with no intentions,asks a few questions
Warnings: Ace is insane. No joke. Also this thread has a plan, so if you want in, talk to me first and we'll see how it will work.
Night brought out the monsters.
The damned rose from their rest and stalked the halls like figments of a madman's imagination. Wild, uncontrollable, dangerous. Broken. Here to remind the prisoners of what awaited them, the moment they let weakness take them.
He moved silently, not pausing for long even when he had to. Hands tucked in the pockets of his coat, shoulders hunched, bag hanging at his side as though it weighed twice as much as it really did. Driven by something he didn't recognize, possessed by the house, by the memories, by his promises and his guilt. Driven to keep moving, to keep trying.
A hopeless effort.
It would have been easy to mistake him for one of the monsters, face deathly pale, cheeks sunken from weeks of only occasionally remembering that he still needed to eat, to sleep, to drink and eye lashes fringed with a delicate tracery of frost.
Was he one of the still living prisoners? Or was he one of the monsters, driven to survive by the twisted magic of the house, by the hooks driven into their brains?
If asked, Ace couldn't have told you which group he belonged to anymore.
His lips moved silently as he walked, like a mad man, the same words over and over again. A list of people, a list of the dead. Yukimi. Fletcher. March. Lilia. Allison. Aiden. Rose. Don't forget. Yukimi. Fletcher. March. Lilia. Allison. Aiden. Rose. Don't forget.
His fingers lifted to brush against the door. She was here. The woman. The girl. Liarliarliar. He knew she was here. Perhaps he had been seeking her.
Perhaps he had just ended up here, the devil's own luck driving him to this time, this place.
Regardless, he was here now. He pushed the door open, staring at her from the doorway like a ghost.
Lilia's room. Lilia's chair. Don'tbelongnotyours.
But he didn't speak--he simply stood, silent, still, watching her, face emotionless and eyes full of something unfathomable and dark.
He didn't speak.
Perhaps he had forgotten how.
Setting: Mother's Study
Time: Night 19
Summary: Ace goes into the Mother's Study with no intentions,asks a few questions
Warnings: Ace is insane. No joke. Also this thread has a plan, so if you want in, talk to me first and we'll see how it will work.
Night brought out the monsters.
The damned rose from their rest and stalked the halls like figments of a madman's imagination. Wild, uncontrollable, dangerous. Broken. Here to remind the prisoners of what awaited them, the moment they let weakness take them.
He moved silently, not pausing for long even when he had to. Hands tucked in the pockets of his coat, shoulders hunched, bag hanging at his side as though it weighed twice as much as it really did. Driven by something he didn't recognize, possessed by the house, by the memories, by his promises and his guilt. Driven to keep moving, to keep trying.
A hopeless effort.
It would have been easy to mistake him for one of the monsters, face deathly pale, cheeks sunken from weeks of only occasionally remembering that he still needed to eat, to sleep, to drink and eye lashes fringed with a delicate tracery of frost.
Was he one of the still living prisoners? Or was he one of the monsters, driven to survive by the twisted magic of the house, by the hooks driven into their brains?
If asked, Ace couldn't have told you which group he belonged to anymore.
His lips moved silently as he walked, like a mad man, the same words over and over again. A list of people, a list of the dead. Yukimi. Fletcher. March. Lilia. Allison. Aiden. Rose. Don't forget. Yukimi. Fletcher. March. Lilia. Allison. Aiden. Rose. Don't forget.
His fingers lifted to brush against the door. She was here. The woman. The girl. Liarliarliar. He knew she was here. Perhaps he had been seeking her.
Perhaps he had just ended up here, the devil's own luck driving him to this time, this place.
Regardless, he was here now. He pushed the door open, staring at her from the doorway like a ghost.
Lilia's room. Lilia's chair. Don'tbelongnotyours.
But he didn't speak--he simply stood, silent, still, watching her, face emotionless and eyes full of something unfathomable and dark.
He didn't speak.
Perhaps he had forgotten how.