After four days, Grell finally admits;

"Eric, I want you to see it."

( Grell's Cinimatic Record: the Record of his Life. Cut for length and disturbing content )

[Intro. Warning for 'offensive adult concepts' or some BS idek.]

( Cutting his threads out of respect for----ahahah who am I kidding? )

No... it can't be here ( Read more... )

He'd been here two whole days already and the fact that he hadn't been able to find a way back to London, coupled with the fact that everyone here seemed quite barking, was not working well on Dorian's temper. To top it off, when he'd asked a member of the staff for coffee he'd merely been given directions to the lounge ( Read more... )

The steps are easy ( Read more... )

Francis had completed the sweep of the room he found himself in, and there was still no hint as to where he was. No skyline to judge it on, nothing in any drawer or cabinet with the name of the hotel, not even a clue on the door as to where he'd been taken. And that damn maid had not been helping matters, completely ignoring him. What was that ( Read more... )

An interesting set of days since he'd arrived, and a discovery of absolutely nothing useful in regards to where on Earth this city was, or how he'd come to be here, had left him somewhat drained, though strangely relaxed in his isolation. He wasn't home, and that made him uncomfortable, but then, he also didn't have to worry about being a fugitive ( Read more... )

Light shone in through the curtains as the morning had grown brighter and more insistent. The room was one of the mid-range sizes with two beds on different walls perpendicular from each other. The carpet was an alarming shade of green and the walls a ghastly burnt orange ( Read more... )

Headache. Large, and throbbing. He'd been flying rounds around the city, memorizing everything. He'd encountered nothing but shadow after shadow. The people were not even real. It was endlessly perplexing, but he'd accepted it and headed in the direction of the arctic instead. It was familiar and he had hoped to contact Heimdel, or get Mjolnir to ( Read more... )

He woke, slowly. The first thing he noticed was a stifling fog on his brain, unlike anything he'd ever experienced. The second thing he felt was a strong since of long forgotten panic. He bolted up in his bed, faintly covered in cold sweat. He was wearing faded blue pajamas, no socks. The room was almost completely white - cheap, basic brown ( Read more... )