(Untitled)

[triggered_it]

WHO: Adrian, Dorian, Slade, eventually Hayley, maybe, and anyone else who wants to join comment here.
WHAT: Wandering around in the basement of the House on Haunted Hill. Looking for Wardens. Getting traumatized. That sort of thing.
WHERE: PORT.
WHEN: Sunday.
WARNINGS: Spookinesssss.

Comments

[terminates]

As attractive as the upper levels were, the lower levels were the complete opposite. Obviously, the Admiral had a perverse sense of humor (making him a naval officer of all things, complete with the snazzy uniform), but this really took the cake.

Following Adrian down, he kept a sharp lookout for anything that could be considered a threat. They were going to see things down here -- things that weren't real. He'd gathered that much from his conversation with Bourne so he was already stealing himself for whatever might come their way.

[devils_bargain]

Dorian is following Adrian. There is a third with them who he does not recognize, but Dorian has not spoken to him. Dorian is not pleased to be going down into the lower levels when he would have been less inconvenienced to remain upstairs with the guests. The downstairs is incredibly distasteful, and the look on Dorian's face is as though he were being forced to touch filth.

Dorian is dressed not too differently than usual, however the cut of his suit is far more updated and modern than he is accustomed to. Dorian has listened to what others have to say about what is going on, what they are to do, what they are to encounter, and does not quite believe it all.

[triggered_it]

Adrian opened his journal for light, trying to get a basic idea of his surroundings. So far, everything looked decrepit but fairly normal. If this port followed the pattern, though, that would be changing. Slade, he was confident, could handle himself. Dorian, less so.

"Dorian, this is a port. You're going to see things that are not normal. Tell yourself it's not real, if you have to, but treat it as if it were, just to be safe. I don't believe the Admiral when he says we'll be stuck here if we die or fail to find our wardens, but I've also heard cases of people not returning from port. It's best not to take any chances." He doubted there was much he could really say to prepare someone for a first port; he certainly hadn't been prepared for zombies, but he was also much more adaptable and capable of keeping a level head than he suspected Dorian would be.

"Slade, do you have any preference for directions?" he asked. The hallway branched out left and right, one headed toward the east, the other toward the west.

[terminates]

Listening to Adrian, he suppressed a smile. There was a reason he'd chosen to come with him. They'd been in a port together before so Slade already had an idea regarding his capabilities. He was smart, and that would be instrumental in coming out of this alive. There was also something familiar about the way Adrian handled himself, and it reminded him of people he'd worked for in the past. He probably would have too, if they had come from the same world.

Brushing such thoughts aside (now wasn't the time for reminiscing), he checked his journal, his eye narrowed. There were hints coming in, but nothing conclusive enough to pinpoint which direction Bourne could be found. Unfortunate, but he was confident he would find him.

"East." He glanced at Dorian. "Unless you have an objection?"

Ghosts.

[devils_bargain]

"Perfect," Dorian said with what he hoped was bored annoyance, but his tone faltered as he thought he saw someone ahead leap out. A second later, it was nothing.

Dorian frowned and moved imperceptibly closer to Adrian as they carried on.

Re: Ghosts.

[triggered_it]

Adrian looked in the same direction, but didn't see anything. He touched Dorian's arm lightly, reassuringly. "Dorian, whatever you're seeing, it's not real." He kept his voice calm. He could be the most comforting person in the world when he wanted to be. "Ports are designed to frighten, nothing more. Nothing here can actually hurt you."

To reassure someone, all you had to do was lie to them.

Re: Ghosts.

[triggered_it]

The ghost appeared in front of him, invisible to Adrian. He looked the same as ever: flippant and uncaring. His eyes lit with a gleam of cruelty, though, as he smirked at Dorian.

"A prison ship?" he had to laugh at that. "Dorian, I don't think an appeal from Jesus Christ himself would be enough to save your soul at this point. Prisons are designed for punishment, not rehabilitation."

Ghosts.

[devils_bargain]

Dorian had been about to respond to Adrian's assurance that nothing was real and nothing could hurt him when he stopped dead as Lord Henry appeared in front of him. He looked so real, so exactly the same he had when they had met. Dorian stepped back, hands held up instinctively as if that would protect him.

"You aren't real," he said, pointing an accusing finger at, what was to Adrian, thin air.

[triggered_it]

Dorian was dead. He would be back on the Barge, safe, with nothing more than bad flu symptoms and the inevitable PTSD. This did little to comfort him, but he wasn't going to dwell. That would only put himself in more danger. He glanced behind him every now and then to make sure Slade was still with him, as he didn't think it was a good idea for either of them to be separated now. As something rounded the corner in front of them, Adrian suddenly stopped, recognizing the figure instantly. He muttered something under his breath, suddenly wishing he could be alone, but choosing to simply ignore it for now. He pivoted suddenly, as if to turn around, but the same figure reappeared from the opposite end of the hallway.

He brushed his bangs out of his face, haughtily, thoroughly prepared to deal with the worst, hoping he could at least keep control of himself in front of Slade.

[thegooddrjones]

"Adrian." The voice was soft and calm as it always was; the glowing nimbus that had spoken so softly so that he didn't break the hearing of the humans around him. He held up one glowing hand, beckoning the former hero towards him and away from the path.

[triggered_it]

Adrian felt numb, like events were repeating themselves. He had once gone out of his way to avoid talking to Jon -- once killed his Bubastis to avoid talking to Jon, only to eventually have to face him anyway. For what?

Now, though, he did nothing but follow complacently. He wanted to talk to Jon. Jon had agreed with him. Jon understood, without condoning or condemning, he at least had understood.

[thegooddrjones]

The room where Jon lead him to was quiet, it was empty and it looked curiously normal on contrast to the dank and rotting parts of the labyrinth that Adrian had been wandering through.

He looked at him, those blank white eyes seeming to stare through him in the way that it always did. "What are you seeking, Adrian?" Alway Adrian, never the other name, the secret name, the one that Adrian had borrowed for himself.

[triggered_it]

He wanted to be alone. Actually, he felt like killing someone, mainly himself, but that could wait until he found Martha again. Perhaps he'd kill her too. They'd just come back. Dorian would come back. He would come back. Martha would come back. The Comedian was resting in peace. Jon was in another galaxy.

And all was wrong with the world. Only where to choose their place of rest. Nowhere. His thoughts were a muddled source of quotes and his own abstract thinking and theorizing.

He was on his way back upstairs, not even looking or paying much attention to his surroundings, not really caring at this point.

[victimofnoone]

"Adrian

[triggered_it]

He actually recoiled at the sound of his name, even recognizing Hayley's voice. He couldn't help it. He didn't want to stay and talk about his problems right now

[victimofnoone]

Hayley could tell something was indeed very much not alright with Adrian, though she couldn't begin to pinpoint what it was at this particular moment, where the man wouldn't talk to her and there was no sign of anything which might have caused his mood. In fact, there was no sign of anything outside of Adrian himself and it suddenly occurred to her that that should not be how it was. The girl quickly jumped up two steps, careful not to step on Martha's item, to stand in front of him, standing as an obstacle in his way despite that she couldn't do much to fight him if he truly desired to be rid of her.

"Where's Dorian?" There was a dangerous edge to her tone that belied the image of the innocent girl she often projected. It was in response to his own change, not to threaten him, but as a mechanism of keeping them on even ground. Hayley looked down on him as if she had some power, despite a lack of justification for the attitude. "Tell me what's going on."