RITUAL SACRIFICE-TASTIC! [SEMI-OPEN]
Who: (Currently) "Philip", Jay, Susan Ivanova, Sora and A.X.L. Pendergast
Where: Philip's room, then random corridor, then Philip's room again
When: Today
Rating: R-ish
Summary: Clarence wants to go home. Hailing a cab didn't work and the bus is late again, so there's really only one thing left to do; call up some friends, tie them to a bunch of ( Read more... )
Where: Philip's room, then random corridor, then Philip's room again
When: Today
Rating: R-ish
Summary: Clarence wants to go home. Hailing a cab didn't work and the bus is late again, so there's really only one thing left to do; call up some friends, tie them to a bunch of ( Read more... )
Comments 175
Your new friend is behaving strangely. Indeed there is something quite fishy about him.
Won't you come and see how he is doing, Aloysius, dear? ]
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But the narration sweeps this aside, since he couldn't hear it, and focuses instead on the long-limbed, black-suited slender man taking a little constitutional on down to Philip's room. Thanks to some careful study, he figured out where it was, and it's been a while since he's so much as seen his brand-new favourite psychopath buddy, so he might as well, right?
Aloysius Pendergast is currently standing outside the door of one Mister Philip "Crazypants" McCrazyface, hands in his pockets, staring at said door with what can only be described as a look of neutral interest, which is a contradiction in and of itself. He frowns ever so slightly and leans forward a bit, knocking on the door, after a moment.
Too bad it's definitely going to end badly for him.]
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We presume "careful study" refers to that one time where Philip outright told him which room he was staying in, yes? Good.
All of that aside, when Philip, that is "Philip", that is really not Philip at all opens the door and sees the visitor he can barely contain his MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. ]
He--
[ Clarence stops himself. Hey, buddy! might give him away, at least it might give away that something is off, more off than usual, so he chooses to resort to one of his favourite exercises: Imitating the whiny Brit's voice.
It's so much easier when you actually have his lips to work with. ]
Hello. Hi.
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Pendergast looks Clarence over with a slight frown. There's something... off, fundamentally, about him, and it nags at Pendergast.]
Hello, Philip, [he says quietly, taking a hand out of his pocket.] I was walking this way and thought I might make sure you are doing alright. Do you mind if I come in?
[Ever the gentleman!]
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Comment here to run into him and strike up a casual conversation or be casually abducted. ]
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Clarence recognises that face... or rather the lack thereof. Running into the first of Philip's "friends" had turned out quite entertaining, so maybe there is something to be done with that one as well.
Of course chloroform doesn't travel well through masks, so something would have to be done about that first. Too much effort? No, not when Philip's terrified reaction is so utterly worth it.
He smiles and waves to greet the masked guy.
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It's a good time for a chat; either with other victims or perhaps with your friendly captor, the young man examining a dagger right in front of you.
Rescue attempts by third party providers are most unwelcome as well, though do allow Clarence a little time to prepare coffee and cookies first. ]
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There are ten of the large stalagmites, seemingly growing out of the floor. The circle they form doesn't allow a good view of the rest of the room, though since all the furniture is gone it probably wouldn't matter anyway.
In front of them is another circle of stalagmites, five of them, much thinner and smaller.
In the middle of the circle Clarence is busy slowly filling a round stone basin with muddy green liquid. ]
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The crystals are shattered. The people (dead or alive) are gone and Clarence is lying in the middle of the room, slowly fighting his way back into consciousness. ]
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The cold tile isn't so bad on his face, because the rapid regeneration of the mansion makes his body feel as if his very skin is molten lava. He shifts, lets reality fall back onto him, and staggers to his feet after a few moments, taking care to allow himself enough time to get used to breathing and moving again.
Then, very carefully, he kneels besides the door, tries it. It opens slowly, showing one hell of a mess outside, and he pulls the Les Baer .45 out of his coat.]
Hello? [His voice is low and hoarse.]
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Whatever it was, it prompts him to ignore the voice, perhaps not even notice it yet.
He is still struggling to get to his feet; slowly, swaying, cursing. ]
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Remain still.
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