The Honor Circle Returns! (IC)

Started by Boog, November 02, 2007, 07:32:13 PM

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SpottedKitty

#1200
"Suit y'self," Andrace replied to Kaela with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "I'll be right here if y' change y' mind, or y' need a hand t' pick y' guts up off th' floor." The lioness winced and flattened her ears as she bent to pick up her knives, and Bart's dropped weapon. The leg wound was her only serious injury, but whenever she moved, every single one of them hurt. And she could definitely do without the taste of her own blood where it trickled down the side of her muzzle and into her mouth.

As Andrace limped off, wiping the blades clean on her trouser leg, the fake tavern shimmered and faded around the three fighters. The array of Circles came back into view, all of them apparently unused at the moment. She barely noticed the odd-looking vehicle parked near the building, all her concentration was going into placing one paw in front of the other. Her muzzle quirked into a grin, though, at Kaela's last remark before they staggered into the Tavern. "Y' don't like things stickin' in y'...? Heh, a night out pub crawlin' wi' m' sister Zoe ought t' cure y' o' that. I swear, that girl needs patchin' up every time she goes on a bender — includin' when she's gone out huntin' f'r a new boyfriend..."
ENGLISH: A language that lurks in dark alleys, beats up other languages
and rifles through their pockets for spare vocabulary.


Yugo

Kaela was panting loudly and raggedly now, with the empty circles in front of her waving and shimmering strangely. "I think I...I think I might change my mind soon," she managed, down to a pitiful limp now. "Don't think I'm gonna make it." She winced at a final step, her vision swimming at a startling pace, her entire body weakening and sending bolts of fierce pain to her head. It was all too much. Her blade, still clutched in her left hand, clattered uselessly to the ground with a high metallic note as she slumped face first into the ground right before the tavern's entrance.

"Hate this bloody career sometimes...too old," she grunted at a whisper's level before she finally passed out, glad to be rid of her physical burdens and comfortable knowing that she would probably be fine in whatever medical care awaited her in the building before her.
https://www.weasyl.com/~boximus<br /><br />My Weasyl!

Sunblink

#1202
Dekuyaketh hummed noncommittally. Well, it looked like he misunderstood the woman's intentions. Fucking hell, he probably made himself out to look like a buffoon, but it wasn't like he cared what people thought of him. If he actually took others' opinions into consideration, then he would have shattered from his abused sensibilities a long time ago. Unaware of the woman's inconspicuous infiltration of his mind-shields - just enough to penetrate the surface and listen to his tumultuous thoughts. It was not enough to trigger any sort of hemorrhage; it was like she was pressing her ear to a wall and listening to people conversing on the other side. Languidly, Dekuyaketh stretched out, exercising his sinewy muscles, and looked at Andrea.

"I'm more interested than fights than a drink," Dekuyaketh said, "Alcohol. I've had a bad effect with it. Runs in the family."

This was a casual fabrication. He didn't feel like indulging Andrea with his life story.

"Do I have to buy that from you?"

Angel

Sylvie was only half-distracted by the back-and-forth between Dani and Boog. The feeling of something strange happening hadn't gone away just yet, and the newcomer was on her mind as well, though she'd tried to get those thoughts out. SHe wanted to think of something else - the Confutatis movement of Mozart's Requiem, the hopefully-soon fight between Andrea and Dekuyaketh, there had to be something else for her to focus on.

I didn't mean to deceive you, Sylvie...

Her eyes grew wide. She blinked. Her body had almost frozen in place. The tone of the thought - feeling - whatever-it-was was not hers. Or Andrea's. It was the one voice she'd expected NOT to hear.

She was, of course, a little paranoid. But it did sound awfully sincere, and for a moment her heart softened and she forgot why she was so afraid of Stygian, thinking back to what had gone on between them that was good.

Then she remembered how he'd scared her, during the fight and upstairs afterward. And before the memory of him helping with Andrea could overcome anything, she remembered Piix's broken, dull expression when she'd come back downstairs, and his psychotic, gleeful manner. That steeled her outwardly and gave her paranoia a bit of a justified boost. But inwardly, it was too late. The first chink in her logic's armor had been made, and it was there to stay.

The Green looked around. Andrea was busy with the Maine Coon, and Boog had turned to the newcomer, but apparently had noticed the same thing the elf had. Good. The bartender seemed like a bit less of a biased judge than Andrea, and he clearly had some power over Stygian. She didn't want anything to happen between her and Stygian at this point if someone else wasn't going to notice and help her when things got dangerous.

She went over the memories that had saved her from complete entrapment in her head, trying to convey a message back to Stygian through them rather than words: That doesn't change the fact that you did.

---

At the other end of the bar, Dani's grin toned down a bit as Boog talked to the other man. It faded away when she saw a confused expression on Syl and the bartender at the same time. She gripped her weapon a bit tighter, a reflex to unknown danger, and waited to see what more would happen.
The Real Myth of Sisyphus:
The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again...
BANDWAGON JUMP!

Tipod

"Are you kidding me?" Bart kept the pace up until Kaela hit the floor, actually hobbling along for another couple steps before realizing she'd fallen. "...wow, guess you weren't." He bent down and rolled Kaela over before picking her up like a rag doll, one arm hooking under her knees and the other under her back below the armpits. As he gently kicked the bar's door open, the one question burning into his mind was "is there a laundromat in this place?" Blood stains were such a pain to get out. "Hey, which way's the nurse's office? I gotta palm this lady off before she bleeds out all over my shoes."

He made a quiet aside to Andrace. "And we gotta talk about families after dumping grandma here, 'cause there's no way your sisters could be rougher than my brothers." Oddly enough, it seemed like his accent and speech were evening out. The fight must have taken the edge off his previously cocky-as-hell demeanor.
"How is it that I should not worship Him who created me?"
"Indeed, I do not know why."

SpottedKitty

Andrace was half-expecting Kaela to collapse: she'd noticed the wolf's nosepad going pale from blood loss and her tail dragging. Her limping progress was slow, though, so she was several yards behind when Kaela lost her grip on Bart's shoulder and flopped muzzle-first on the ground. She'd just caught up when Bart picked the unconscious wolf up and carried her inside. She picked up Kaela's dropped knife and followed them in.

The lioness raised an eyebrow and smiled at Bart's remark about families. "I'll look forward t' that," she said, "long as y' don't mind waitin' a bit, I'm needin' some patchin' up as well." Her magical talents had never been powerful enough to allow her to perform a full-fledged healing spell, so the stab wound in her thigh hadn't closed up: it still needed attention, preferably before she collapsed from blood loss as well. She knew from experience what that felt like.
ENGLISH: A language that lurks in dark alleys, beats up other languages
and rifles through their pockets for spare vocabulary.


Stygian

There didn't seem to be any way to communicate back. What Sylvie had heard was, after all, merely a free idea. A few hazy images drifted around, along with some rising whispering sounds, but there was no response for the elf to go on. Then there was silence. No, not silence. There was still something there, but... to hear it was...
  'You can start by giving me a glass of red,' the man said, still with that confident, implacable expression of a man self-assured and confident of his own good fortunes, and who won't be troubled by anything as long as he is. 'And by telling me more. Because I certainly didn't intend to end up here...'
  Behind the man, backed up against the wall, the machine made a sudden yet silent motion, and blinked the camera-lens shutter of her large central eye twice. Then she settled down again, absolutely still. It wasn't her. It was no one. No one seemed to notice.
  'No,' Andrea answered the feline demon, snorting a little and narrowing her eyes at him. 'You beat me though, you could at least show that kindness. Or maybe you'd do me a favor instead? Your choice, really.'
  Something was wrong. Sylvie could feel it in the back of her head. It was the sort of feeling that achluophobes know very well; the feeling of walking out in the dark woods at night, magnified several times over. The sort of feeling you get when you turn your back on the dark and then hear a horrible stound, and stop dead still because you know that something is behind you. The sort of feeling that goes together with a racing heart and the kind of paralysis you experience when you are too frightened to either move or run away.
  Then there was a sound. Low, so low as to be almost inaudible. A breath. It seemed to come from all around. And the elf though she could see the shadows around shifting ever so slightly.
  'Let me out...!'

Boog

The Boogeyman set out the one and raised a finger. "Hold that thought, you showed up when I was in the middle of something I just need to wrap up." Customers are all well and good, but some things take priority. "Few minutes, I'll get right back to you."
He whisked back over to Dani, opportunistic grin plastered back in place. "So, I believe you had more questions?"
Let -e ou--..!
Boog was less concerned this time. While it may not have reached its intended recipient, Sylvie's reply had rang out like a gunshot before in a beautiful psychic "go screw yourself." His eyes flickered when he heard it, but it didn't give him the jolt it had earlier.

Yugo

Kaela was not kidding, and slammed face first into the wooden floor quite dramatically. She made no complaint as Bart stooped to retrieve her unconscious form, limbs draping uselessly to the sides as he carried her off to the medical wing of the tavern. She floated in helpful oblivion, and would've been glad to be rid of her physical ailments had she been mentally aware. Speech, noise, and feeling bounced uselessly against her body, inciting no reaction. Hopefully she would wake up feeling considerably better. A pity she couldn't get to drink and talk about old times with her fighting companion yet.
https://www.weasyl.com/~boximus<br /><br />My Weasyl!

Tipod

#1209
Bart didn't have to shuffle for long before locating the medical wing, being as gentle as humanly possible with Yugo's unconscious carcass as he entered, just short of bonking the wolf's head on the doorway. "Hey, is there a doctor in the house?" A classicly fitting line if ever there was one. "We got a bleeder here," he said as he looked down to Kaela's gutwound, "and be thankful she's not a squirter. Low blood pressure'll prevent that, I guess." He'd carried wounded people before, and some were particularly... spurty. Those people weren't very pleasant to cart around.

Rather than wait for attendance, he placed Kaela down upon the closest free bed in sight, wiping his bloodied hands off on his pants. Kind of a shame. I was hoping she'd last long enough to at least tell me some war jokes.
"How is it that I should not worship Him who created me?"
"Indeed, I do not know why."

Angel

Dani was trying to ignore a very minor clash of emotions going on in her head right now. On the one hand, Sylvie still looked a little concerned with something, and elves could perceive certain things easier than Reds - well, easier than humans in general. On the other hand, she didn't look like she was about to panic yet, and no-one else was panicking. After careful consideration, Dani decided that when chaos came to pass and she wasn't the cause, that would be the time to react.

She smiled again when Boog returned, releasing her weapon and tapping the book in front of her. "Just wanted to make sure of a few things before making any decisions. If someone challenged ... whatever's in this thing, would they be able to pick the nightmare they wanted to fight, or would it pick them?" There wasn't much the Red was afraid of, or at least, her fears weren't as clear-cut as other people's and tended to be much more sensible. If the book wanted to scare her, it was going to have to know about things from her world. Then again, there was always the chance it DID know... But what if it wasn't just some nightmare? What if it simply wanted to slaughter her in the most painful way possible? Whatever happens, this is going to be very interesting.

-----

Sylvie had felt a little good about herself at first, but it seemed that Stygian hadn't heard her. She supposed it made sense - she wasn't a direct telepath, so the ideas were probably just floating around freely now. Thankfully, no-one seemed to notice.

But even though there had been no response, something didn't feel quite right. The feelings she had were the ones she associated with the smell of smoke, the sound of crackling embers, a glow of bright, angry orange off in the distance. The sensation was familiar: a tightness of her muscles, an acute awareness to all her surroundings, a strong desire to either remain perfectly still or run as fast and far as she could, and a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. But those feelings were amplified to the point where she was almost physically uncomfortable. She saw the shadows moving just slightly, and knew immediately it was not the product of her fearful mind.

Then she heard it. A whisper that was just barely above silence.

Let me out...!

She glanced over at the Boogeyman. He was still talking with Dani, but he seemed to have noticed. She glanced at the infirmary door, which the barfight participants were walking through. She bit her lip and shifted one verdant hand back, as one would to push themselves up to stand. But she didn't move more than that. The urge to get up and at least go look was strong, but what would happen if she did what he asked scared her worse than anything he could do now.
The Real Myth of Sisyphus:
The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again...
BANDWAGON JUMP!

SpottedKitty

By the time Andrace followed Bart into the infirmary, she was moving in an interesting combination of a limp and a cross-legged waddle. "Yeah, looks pretty bad," she said with a nod towards the unconscious wolf, "but we've got her here in plenty o' time. An' now, I'm gonna be a squirter if I don't hurry up an' find... aha!" She grinned and hobbled off to the haven she'd been looking forward to since about half-way through the fight: a door labelled "toilets".

The lioness came back a few minutes later, clutching her injured leg and snarling fiercely. "Ow... friggin' ow," she muttered, her ears dipped and tail lashing back and forth as she sat gingerly on another examination bed near Bart. "Now that I'm not burstin' I can put all m' concentration inta feelin' this friggin' leg. An' th' face cut ain't much better, it started bleedin' again when I tried t' wash it." She put her own knives at the foot of the bed, and tossed Bart's puny little claw sharpener — closed, of course — back to him. "Here, y' forgot t' pick this up. Dunno what'd happen t' somethin' y' leave lyin' in one o' these Circles when it fades away. Say, Bart, where's th' doc? Thought he'd be here by now."
ENGLISH: A language that lurks in dark alleys, beats up other languages
and rifles through their pockets for spare vocabulary.


Tipod

Bart took it upon himself to rinse the blood off his hands and from around his eye as Andrace made use of the facilities, wiping his hands and face with a paper towel afterwards. "Headwounds tend to--" He paused to catch the butterfly knife, dropping it into his jacket pocket. "Thanks. Headwounds tend to do that." Since Andrace was still capable of talking, he figured he'd stick around and make smalltalk before the doctor made his way over. "Not sure where the doc's at, though. Prob'ly busy sewing some guy back together."

He looked at Kaela once more, then back to Andrace. "...bet you weren't expecting me to come out without a scratch, huh?" He grinned cheerfully. "Come on, ask me how I do it. You know you wanna."
"How is it that I should not worship Him who created me?"
"Indeed, I do not know why."

Boog

"Sorry, it doesn't seem to have a table of contents. You just open it, read what you find and hope for the best," Boog shrugged sheepishly, "If it's any consolation, I don't think they see it coming either."

--

Doctor Holic strode out of the back hallway, screwing a jar with something lumpy and organic looking floating in its contents shut and setting it on a counter. "I'm sorry, what appears to be the-" He noticed Kaela on the bed and sighed, "Ah, right. Well, let me take a look." Holic unbuttoned his lab coat and already had a few implements in his hands by the time he'd gotten over to the wolf.

Stygian

There was no reaction. No indication of anything changing in the slightest. But somehow the sudden silence in the air, the silence as all sound is knocked asunder the very instant of an explosion, told Sylvie that this time, her hesitance had been noticed. And whatever was calling out to her did not appreciate it.
  Actually, she couldn't be sure it was silence at all. Sylvie could feel it, beyond the gut-twisting feeling of being watched. There were some sounds that were so low in pitch that no one with a normal hearing register could feel them. Infra-sounds, after all, could cause feelings of disorientation and discomfort, among other things. Was it not possible that...? But it had only been for a second...
  Thn-thump...!
  The glasses dangling gently from the hangers overhead and standing around clinked slightly, and a couple of seats beside Sylvie, the robed man stopped with his glass halfway to his mouth, looking suspiciously at the dark, dark red of the wine, little ripples just having vanished. He waited a second before unconcernedly taking a long sip. But while he seemed nonchalant enough, the elf didn't miss it. She couldn't have. Two quick pulses, tremoring through her. So deep and distant that it wasn't the vibrations themselves that created the sound, but the little residual shocks resulting from them. And the room was dark. It was shadowy to start with, but now it seemed so much worse, both choking and looming in the distance the slow, amber light had to travel, blurry and vague. It was almost as if she could see behind the shadows, something...
  Her eyes, searching, were drawn over the dark glass pane of a cabinet in front of her, as one of the lights overhead seemed to flicker, slowly fading. She saw her reflection, as the deepening shadows behind the glass made it a vague mirror, and...
  Two red points, glowing dim but somehow glaring still, stared at her from the human-shaped darkness, right behind her shoulder. The thing raised what looked like a hand toward her.

Angel

It was silence, and not silence. Sylvie couldn't be sure if it was real for everyone in the bar, or just for her, but either way, she knew something - someone - was angry with her. She felt eyes on her, and knew simultaneously that no-one around her was looking at her. And there were ... feelings of sound in the air, sounds that were near impossible to consciously produce or hear...

Then she felt it. Two pulses, like a heartbeat, running through the bar and herself. And the room was starting to get dark... her eyes couldn't focus, and her mind begged for the comfort of light. She wasn't in pain yet, but in her deepening fear, the anticipation was worse than pain. The shadows shifted, and though her vision was strange, she felt like she was looking past the shadows, through them.

A lightbulb flickered out, and brought her attention to a glass-paned cabinet. She saw her own reflection, but as she continued to look, she started to see something...else...something familiar...

Two glowing red pinpoints that that could only be narrowed eyes, just behind her. And the body they were attached to, reaching for her...

Not caring if she was imagining this, not caring if no-one else noticed her or the fearful atmosphere, Sylvie brought one hand to the edge of the table and one hand to her staff, and, just barely keeping her movements controlled, slowly looked behind her.
The Real Myth of Sisyphus:
The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again...
BANDWAGON JUMP!

Stygian

There was nothing there. There was just the bar, lazily offering Sylvie its dank view, no darker or more remarkable than before. The only thing that might have seemed ominous or scary was the door to the back, slightly ajar, past which some darkness that normally wouldn't have appeared so frightening lay. If there had been...
   A sharp, shattering pang shook Sylvie out of her thoughts. Little crystal shards clinked across the floor, the glass that had somehow inexplicably dropped onto the counter top and shattered with unreasonably great force spread in a fine circle. For an instant, the elf thought she could feel the hint of a shudder. And then came that voice once more, deeper and more hostile.
   'Let me out, girl...!'

SpottedKitty

Andrace gave Bart a long, measuring look. She'd punched him, kicked him, tossed him about, beaten him up, clawed him, bitten him, and even smashed his face through the floor, and he still looked relatively fresh as a daisy. If it weren't for his mussed-up clothes, she wouldn't think he'd been in a fight at all, never mind been pounded into a rug by two tough, professional fighters like herself and Kaela. "I thought it might be a healin' spell," she said thoughtfully, "but it's nothin' like th' half-assed one that's all I can use, or th' full power one m' sister Despina knows. It's not a spell at all, is it? It's you — what are y'?"

Andrace's musings were interrupted when the doctor bustled in from a back room and began to work on Kaela. The lioness was a little taken aback by his weird appearance, but he seemed to know what he was doing as he made sure the old wolf's insides stayed that way.

"Ah, doc," she said when the wild-looking mustelid paused for a moment, "When y' finished wi' granny there, I've got a few chopped-up bits needin' looked at, an' I think at least one broken wrist." Only a slight tightness in her voice, and the set of her ears and whiskers, showed how much her assorted collection of injuries hurt. While she waited, she took off her jerkin, stuck her hand (not the one with the definitely broken wrist) down inside her trousers and tugged at the buckles fastening the no longer hidden sheath around her left thigh. The doctor couldn't work on her leg while she was wearing that, after all.

"Hey, Bart," she said, "could y' do me a favour an' haul m' backpack in here? I'll need a change o' clothes — these trousers have had it, an' th' shirt an' jerkin'll need cleanin' 'fore I wear 'em again."
ENGLISH: A language that lurks in dark alleys, beats up other languages
and rifles through their pockets for spare vocabulary.


Tipod

#1218
Bart seemed all too happy to divulge the secret behind his rugged endurance, but decided he'd shut up for the most part and haul Andrace's things in first. "I'll just give you a little hint to ogle." He tossed his wallet to the lioness. By this point, the only thing left in the thick leather trifold was an ID card and several photopockets stuffed with small pictures. "Give you somethin' to think about while I fetch your pack." He turned and sauntered out, both hands resting comfortably in his jacket pockets.

All of the good dozen or so pictures in the wallet prominently featured Bart, some of him younger and with a moptop of unruly brown hair, and all had him accompanied by at least one odd, vaguely humanoid creature with pitch-black flesh and assorted monstrous characteristics: segmented tails, some with canine ears and heads, others reptillian, straightlegged or beastlegged, tall or short, red eyes, sharp claws and nails the size of ginsu knives, the works. And they weren't pictures of pure carnage; one featured him in the midst of a concert audience, shirtless, painted with a navy-blue vortex pattern, and with arms around two of his kin as they gave the horns gesture and rolled out their long, purplish-black tongues. Another was him being tackled and wrestled to the ground by several smaller demons, possibly nieces or nephews. Typical photo subjects, but with... well, monsters. No wonder Bart was such a pain in the ass to incapacitate: his genealogy was far from mortal.
"How is it that I should not worship Him who created me?"
"Indeed, I do not know why."

Angel

She'd known there was no-one there. It was all in her head. But she could see the shadows in the open door at the back, and knew it wasn't just her. It was him. He was making Sylvie feel this, think this, twisting her mind between his fingers...

A glass fell from the ceiling and broke on the floor, making her jump. The elf knew immediately who was responsible, and was proven right a second later. She felt a shiver in the air, and heard his voice again, angrier and harsh, commanding her.

Let me out, girl...!

Sylvie swallowed the rising lump in her throat and glanced around the bar. The only two mind-readers in the place were both busy, and she knew Dani would get very antsy if she was denied a fight much longer. But that wasn't what she was really thinking about. Whether she got help or not, she was at Stygian's mercy right now. He could drive her totally insane and leave her a shivering, scared husk of an elf for the rest of her life, or trap her in her own hallucinations. She couldn't, wouldn't let him out, but if she DIDN'T...

She stood and moved to the back of the room, trying her best to look unassuming. She almost did, but the wide, fearful green eyes were a signal of what was really running through her mind as she headed for that door....
The Real Myth of Sisyphus:
The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again...
BANDWAGON JUMP!

Stygian

#1220
The door was the same as it had been, but the darkness beyond was not. It wasn't really evident at a first glance, yet it was clear to anyone who had eyes to look closer with that even the dimmed illumination of the bar should have been able to cast more light down the hallway. Instead, the darkness practically throbbed, blackness deeper than black slithering and creeping around at the edges of the corridor, the shape of it so hard to distinguish that even finding one's way forward was difficult. There was something else to it though, some dark, dark sheen that filled out the emptiness between the shadows. Like a fine mist of blood spread thin through the air, carrying the faintest glimmering traces of deep red to the observer's eyes...
   'Procrastination is not a very good idea.' The voice was closer now, and Sylvie could clearly catch all the hidden undertones of it. Or maybe it was just that it was a voice now, rather than merely a thought. There was an acid flanger to it, beneath the directness of the man's murky voice, something that growled and seethed. The idea of something forcing words through a throat not actually meant for speech, using that normal vocalization as a mask, was discomfortingly easy to imagine. Something crawled away from her foot.
   'The more you drag this out, the worse it is going to get,' the darkness continued, cruelly nonchalantly. 'Personally, I'd much rather like to resolve this quickly. The more effort I have to put into this, the messier it gets...'

Angel

Dani frowned a little at the slightly unhelpful information about the book's fighting style. I wonder if it ever resorts to papercuts? she smirked mentally. Then she noticed something ... off about Sylvie. The elf looked increasingly nervous, but the Red couldn't place what there was for her to be nervous about. Of course, she couldn't see what was going on inside her friend's mind, but when Syl grabbed her staff and turned around, she knew something was wrong. Something that was worse than what had gone on before, because she couldn't see it and help her.

Her muscles tensed when the Green stood up, trying and failing to look normal. She looked like she'd been slapped and was being led over to the door. Even so... Dani looked down at the book in her hands, then to Sylvie, then to the Boogeyman.

"Tell you what. I'll fight something in this book, but you can let the Chinese keep their tea. Instead, do me a favor and keep an eye on her for me." She glanced over at Sylvie with a meaningful expression, then picked up the book and headed for the door.

-----

Sylvie's skin was cold as she watched the darkness beyond the door. This had started as something like an idea, a figment of her imagination being twisted by someone else. But whatever was going on now was completely real, she was sure of it.

She heard Stygian's voice - his voice, not just her mind - and almost shuddered. But when he threatened her, something in her reacted. Something refreshing, that she'd felt the first time her forest was attacked, during the incident when she'd met Dani, and more recently, when Andrea had been trapped in the circle with her after attacking Dani. A kind of righteous anger, that made her want to react in such a way that would throw the fear he was making her feel right back in his face.

"Does it matter?" she whispered, gripping her staff a little tighter. "Whether I let you out or not, terrible things will happen. The only difference is whether they're only worse than what might happen to me, or worse than what you did to Piix..." Her knuckles turned almost-white as she continued to speak. She was still terrified of what he might do if she kept hesitating, but that only seemed to justify her words. "Who do you intend to hurt this time? Tell me, or I'll grow poison sumac in that room and let someone light it on fire."
The Real Myth of Sisyphus:
The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again...
BANDWAGON JUMP!

Stygian

'Please,' the horrid voice replied, untraceable in the dark. It was dismissive, nonchalant, yet still tinged with just enough irritation that one could sense some tension to it. 'If you haven't realized that was an accident by now, I credited you too much to start with.'
   There was a short silence of the sudden and awkward kind, during which Sylvie was treated to a discomforting plethora of low, seething, creeping sounds from deeper down the corridor. Perhaps Stygian had thought she'd answer immediately, or perhaps he just wanted that last statement to sink in before he went on. Either way, he did, right before she had a shot at responding.
   'No. It doesn't matter. That's where you're right,' the dark admitted. 'Because I'll get out of here either way. And then it will merely be a matter of whether if you've been an... inconvenience to me, or not.' It seemed to chuckle for a moment, though the sound was so faint that Sylvie might just have imagined it. Still, considering Stygian's tone as he continued, it was quite easy imagining she were right. 'Still, you could try the bushes. At least that's deciding to take a stand. Only cowards decide to do nothing...'

SpottedKitty

By the time Bart returned to the infirmary, Andrace had carefully examined all of the photos. She grinned at him, one eyebrow raised and her tail swishing languidly from side to side. "You," she said cheerfully while pointing a forefinger claw at his chest, "are one sneaky S.O.B. — I like that. So, th' big secret is, y' got a bit o' Demon in y'? No wonder y' kept gettin' up again every time I smacked y' down, I was fightin' as if y' were just a plain Bein'. I was beginnin' t' suspect somethin' was up, but if I'd known f'r sure, I'd have been a bit... ah... rougher. Might not have got m'self so much banged-up, then. Mind you, when I'm fightin' a Demon f'r real, I use all m' weapons. One o' th' things m' mum taught me — th' safest way t' take down a Demon is in th' back o' th' head, from fifty yards away, when he ain't lookin'." Not a muscle shifted in her toothy smile, but suddenly the lioness seemed much more... predatory.
ENGLISH: A language that lurks in dark alleys, beats up other languages
and rifles through their pockets for spare vocabulary.


Angel

Sylvie almost scowled. Although she had guessed that what he'd done to Piix wasn't exactly intentional, it still didn't change the fact that it had happened. Still, even though what he'd said didn't tell her anything about his feelings toward her, she couldn't deny that that chink in her logical armor had ached a little. And a part of her, although angry, was upset over all this, wondering why he had bothered with her in the first place if he really was as awful as he'd acted...

His next statements chilled her, but it didn't surprise her that he didn't really need her to get out of there. But she knew what she wanted to do. She wasn't going to hold open the door for him as he caused destruction and live with the guilt for the rest of her life. But she was smart enough to know that what he'd said about it being worse if she didn't do as he asked was probably right, whether she'd get hurt or not.

"You didn't answer my question," she said in a soft, dangerous tone, her hands beginning to glow. "And I don't like being manipulated." If there was any irony in that statement, she ignored it. She took a few steps closer to the door, doing her best not to pay attention to what might be crawling around her feet. "But you're right too. I can't stop you from escaping, but if I don't try, it makes me worse than you. Tell me what you're going to do when and if I open that door, and I might let you out. If you lie to me, I'll make you regret it."
The Real Myth of Sisyphus:
The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again...
BANDWAGON JUMP!

Tipod

#1225
"Bet you didn't see that one comin', did you?" Bart had Andrace's pack slung over one shoulder as he re-entered the medical wing, just as laid-back as ever. "Part hellion and Goddamn proud of it, that's me. Take a few shots to the chest, get hit by a bus, drink all night and shake it off the next morning, 420 smoke weed every day, and all the other awesome shit normals wish they could get away with." Lounging around in bloodied clothing was another thing he could apparently get away with; then again, he hadn't the foresight to actually bring another shirt or pair of pants to change into.

"Your mom's right-on about that, though. Not that I would've let you get that far away." He unslung the pack, catching it by a strap before letting it hit the ground. "'Cause we Thom'sens," he said as he rolled up his right sleeve to the shoulder, "always keep nice and close." On his right bicep laid a nice, black tattoo of what appeared to be a four-inch diameter circle, cut in half with three snaggletoothed fangs, one jutting from the bottom half and two from the other, and a pair of slanted brows etched over the top. Some kind of custom family marking, to be sure.
"How is it that I should not worship Him who created me?"
"Indeed, I do not know why."

Stygian

#1226
Silence fell again. Still silence. Not the one permeated with with low sizzling sounds and little scrapes, but the truly silent, heavy kind. Only in the context it was terribly reinforced with expectant tension. It was like something massive was drawing its breath in the dark, and it was anyone's guess if it was going to try and snap its jaws around something, and what. Sylvie was acutely aware of the feeling.
   'And I didn't answer because that's a more unfair and complicated question than you realize. But when you ask it like that...' He stopped, and gave what could have been a mirthless chuckle. 'I suppose that I shall maliciously endeavor to have a drink, heinous though it may sound. Now...'
   There was a shudder, and Sylvie's hair rustled very gently, as air that should have had nowhere to come from or go to moved. There was an almost corrosive feeling to the atmosphere, as though whatever was tinting the air that horrible red was starting to dampen and singe her skin.
   'Would you kindly open the door?!' There was another still shudder, as though someone had invented a very silent sledgehammer and was just testing it on the nearby wall. 'Or I swear I won't be as well mannered much longer...!'

Boog

Boog nodded to Dani and slinked down the corridor after Sylvie. He kept quiet, saving a decent number of paces behind her. Just the barkeep here for something else, pay him no heed. No need to alarm the girl, after all. Besides, from what he could hear of the conversation, Stygian was trying to do quite enough of that himself.
The slamming, however caught his attention. That could damage bar property. He finally stepped closer and nodded to Sylvie, trying to ignore bits of himself trying to bleed into the walls. He HATED this part of the building.
"You weren't that well mannered to start, as I recall. Something about setting the bathroom on fire and accosting the guy with the needles all over..."

SpottedKitty

Andrace looked thoughtfully at Bart's tattoo for a moment before she nodded. "Comin' in close works, but y' got t' have somethin' t' come in close with. Like this guy here," she said as she handed back the stack of photos, the top one including a critter particularly well endowed in the way of horns, fangs and claws. "He'd be able t' chop me int' cutlets, if I was clumsy or stupid an' let him close enough. Y'r little claw sharpener? No way. Oh, y' coulda stabbed me in th' wotsits, an' it'd bleed a fair bit an' hurt like hell. Wouldn't kill me, though, at least not quick enough t' stop me gettin' m' teeth wet."

The lioness paused and slowly shook her head with a humourless smile. "Whoa, listen t' me, I'm ramblin'," she said, "must've lost more blood than I thought. I hate this, it's like bein' drunk, but I've not been drinkin'... except I was... at least, I drink I was thunk..." Andrace swayed from side to side as she sat there, and Bart might have noticed her eyes went out of focus, then slowly crossed.

"Don'feels'good," she mumbled, then she slowly toppled over sideways.
ENGLISH: A language that lurks in dark alleys, beats up other languages
and rifles through their pockets for spare vocabulary.


Angel

#1229
Sylvie tensed at the almost-laugh, then her shoulders fell a bit at Stygian's next comment. Had she been too harsh from the start, or was he lying to her? She was able to reassure herself that the former wasn't quite true, given what he'd done, but she also wasnt too sure about him lying to her. After all, he'd told her from nearly the moment she'd shown serious interest in him that he was dangerous, and he'd shown to be exactly that. Maybe she hadn't taken those warnings altogether seriously, but at least he'd given them and not been lying. But if he wasn't lying, then there was no reason to threaten her, or slowly break her armor, or any of it.

Boog showed up when Stygian's voice started to sound rougher and more threatening, appearing in such a timely way it would have been puzzling had the Green not known better now. She nodded back to the thought entity and turned back to the door, her charged-up hand powering down, slowly.

"I think he might be telling the truth," she muttered, still keeping a spell at the front of her brain in case she was wrong.
The Real Myth of Sisyphus:
The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout,
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again...
BANDWAGON JUMP!