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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:26:50 GMT
Linnie hardly noticed when James scooted over to sit next to her, still tightly grasping what should have been a mortal wound. She was far too wrapped in her own frantic thoughts, desperately trying to come to terms with what she had just learned. She would have never believed something like that normally, but this was far from normal. Even so, it was enough to make her question her sanity. She desperately hoped that she was dreaming, but this was far too real. It was also far too horrible. How could Drake want her soul?
Her eyes widened for a moment as she hesitantly thought back to Lira's body. The chest had been ripped open, and Linnet wondered...had Drake taken Lira’s soul? The thought made her tremble violently, and she felt as if she would fall apart. She tightly gripped her head with her hands as if to keep this from happening. Her trembling began, slowly, to subside, as the voices around her fell silent for a moment.
She edged her eyes up, nearly jumping when she saw James next to her. Though he was still coated in his own blood, it seemed like the flow was beginning to ebb. Her mind was suddenly void of all thoughts but one, though a faint panic was writhing somewhere in the back of her mind. I thought he would be dead. A faint sense of relief flowed through her, though a part of her knew something was not right about this. However, just seeing him next to her helped her feel calmer as the panic lessened, pushed to the back of her mind. She wondered if the wound was somehow not as severe as she thought, but as her eyes drifted to the blood that drenched his hand and the side of his neck, she knew that was not the case. How could anyone survive something like that? The answer struck her suddenly. No human would be able to survive that wound.
For a brief moment, Linnie felt something akin to betrayal. It felt like she had been deceived, though she had drawn her own conclusions. She recalled the hungry look in his eye earlier, and Drake’s threat that James would not eat until she was dead, and that James would tear her throat out if she did not die soon. Was James an angel of death like Drake? Somehow, that did not feel right. James seemed almost… innocent in a way that Drake could never seem. She remembered the gentle way James had tended to her wounds. She rubbed the strip of cloth on her hand thoughtfully, as if confirming it was real.
Suddenly, she heard a shuffling. Her eyes quickly found the source of the noise. It was Hassen, awkwardly crawling toward them. Linnie watched him with wide eyes full of terror, frozen to the spot. Everything in her wanted to run, but she found herself unable to as the man inched forward. Perhaps she felt that she could not abandon James, or maybe she was just panicking. James moved slightly, positioning himself between her and Hassen, brushing her shoulder. Hassen roughly scooped him up and slung him over his shoulder with a grimace as he straightened. He then turned and hobbled off, taking James with him.
As the other two turned to follow him, Linnie let out a gasping, pained ‘oh.’ She looked as if she would cry as she helplessly watched them walk away. Suddenly, as if she had just been released from the floor, she sprung up, ignoring the lightheadedness from the sudden movement as she stumbled after them.
She stumbled to the corner of the hall, stopping to lean against the wall as she watched the group turn another corner. The dizziness slowly subsided as she silently hurried after them, repeating this procedure until they reached the kitchen and disappeared inside a door. She had almost decided to go in after them when Hassen suddenly came out once more, still carrying James. Though Linnet felt completely helpless, she doggedly followed, not allowing the shuffling man out of her sight. She suddenly realized they were back in the hall where their ‘rooms’ were. She stopped, watching nervously as Hassen stood before a closed door. Suddenly, he shifted James down onto the floor, adjusting the boy awkwardly before leaving.
After what seemed like a long time, Linnie could no longer hear Hassen and she cautiously started to emerge from her hiding place. She froze several times at some noise, expecting Hassen to return at any moment. A long time passed with painful slowness until she was nearly halfway down the hall. She carefully whispered, “James?” as she inched closer, still focusing hard for any noise while her eyes searched James’s face with concern.
Suddenly, she heard Hassen’s shuffling step returning. She dove behind a small end table in a feeble attempt to hide. Hassen never even noticed her as he entered, and Linnie did not even have time to breath before a terrible screech emerged from the room. Linnet clapped her hands over her ears, trying futilely to block out the sound. Hassen soon came out with Allease hanging over his shoulder, dead to all appearances. Long moments passed as he attempted to pick James up again, and Linnie followed them in a daze back to the kitchen. She could not stop herself.
Hassen left poor Allease in the kitchen and proceeded slowly upstairs, unaware of his terrified follower. Linnie stopped following when they came to the corridor with the closed door, the one they were forbidden from entering. Hassen took James inside and Linnie stared blankly after them, unsure what she should, or even could, do.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:27:12 GMT
James fell back into his lovely stupor, fingers slick with blood still worked into the back of Hassen's attire, though his entire form had gone limp. He woke briefly as he was dumped on the floor, staring hazily at Hassen as the other arranged his limp limbs. James could barely move at this point, and he didn't have enough thought to register what was going on, other than the fact that he was hungry. The last time he'd been grievously wounded, and most any time before that, he was healed quickly afterwards, Drake wasn't often one to leave his servant suffering—at least he hadn't been before Hassen came along. But James hadn't the room for those thoughts. He was merely thinking, rather vaguely, that Hassen smelled a mixture of rotten and delicious. The prolonged physical pain had drained his soul of some key support, but the suffering and the murders he'd committed had mostly covered it up with the sticky sweet scent of sin. The boy twitched slightly, watching as the other moved away before sleep claimed him again, leaving him with the strained dreams of starvation as his only comfort.
So very slowly blood began filling his veins again, his reclined position meaning that only a small amount leaked out of the half-open wound. James was not a dreamer, not usually, but with the pain so intimate, his body sought the comfort of his brain. But the images his brain produced were not pleasant in the slightest, and caused him to dunk crazily from deep sleep back out into the open air and then down again as his body tried to find some way to level itself and heal at the same time.
As he lay, he dreamed that a voice was whispering his name, a female voice, a familiar voice. An important voice, somehow, saturated with concern. The voice sounded so real. Was it? He managed to force his eyes halfway open, letting gravity turn his head. Perhaps this was a dream. It had to be. There was Linnie. Dream Linnie, probably. Dream Linnie looked rather worried. James struggled with his facial muscles for a fleeting second before they formed a quavering smile of reassurance. Dream Linnie shouldn’t worry. She should leave that for the real girl. He moved to reach out for her, but found that he couldn’t do more than bend his fingers and lift them up slightly off his chest before his arm fell again. But it did not matter, because Dream Linnie had dissipated into the universe again, replaced by Hassen, who looked busy. Hassen was definitely real, because James could still smell him, even from a distance.
The boy barely batted an eyelash when the scream rang out, he was used to such sounds, but when Hassen returned to him and hauled him up again, James shut his eyes. He barely registered (or cared, for that matter) what was going on, however, past the fact that there was indeed a dead body, and he and the body were being shuffled around and hefted on the third party’s shoulder. He clung to Hassen, the blood he’d so recently regained leaking out over his neck again. He eyed the body though, even though her soul was mushy with her prolonged injury, her quick death had fixed some of the rotten scent and James was so very hungry. But before he knew it his transport, the gait of which was growing increasingly jolting, had halted, and the body was dropped away, and James had Hassen’s shoulders to himself. Dropping back into disinterest now that the prospective meal was gone, James closed his eyes again, his instincts telling him sleep was imperative.
Trying to sleep while draped on shoulder of the other servant was not very optimal, however, and his rest was choppy and uncomfortable. His body had rejuvenated enough that he could lift his head, slightly, and he did so periodically, trying to discern exactly where he was. He wasn’t sure if what was going on was completely real or not, he was no stranger to hallucinations, and there was an air of improbability around this situation. Maybe because he couldn’t quite remember what was going on? Where had Dream Linnie gone? He wanted to find her. She’d looked so sad. Or worried. Yes, she’d looked worried. He needed to tell her that she was going to be fine, because all of this was a dream. Of course it was. He couldn’t talk to her otherwise, now could he?
When he was laid down on a bed, James blinked up a Hassen. What was Hassen doing in his dream? He couldn’t quite remember, but he did know he’d been hurt. And Linnie had been there. Unless all that had been a dream too? But then why did his neck hurt so bad? And why exactly was he covered in blood? He felt a weight on his shoulder, and let his head fall to see what it was. Hassen was laying perpendicular of him. And he smelled rather dead. No, he didn’t, but something smelled dead. What was dead? Or was he imagining that as well?
The constant falling in and out of sleep muddled James past the point of comprehensible thought, so he emitted a small whine of dissatisfaction and lifted his head, trying to escape Hassen, whom he’d decided was the cause of his disorientation. He could not gather the energy to do much more than twitch a bit, and his head fell back after a few tiring seconds. He heaved a tiny sigh rolling his head towards the door, where the mouthwatering scent of death was not nearly as strong. Maybe if he just woke up again things would not be so confusing….
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:27:22 GMT
Drake leaned back slightly in his chair when the boy stirred. The young creature moved around a bit, obviously trying to make sense of his location. Drake smiled pleasantly when the blue eyes found him. The boy seemed to contemplate some thought for a few moments before speaking. The daemon tilted his head slightly to once side, resting his chin in the V of his index and middle finger. "Ah, good morning, Mister White, glad to see you've woken." He said pleasantly enough, his eyes flicking to the woman's form briefly to see if she had any notion of stirring as well. Alas, it seemed that he'd afforded the boy a lighter strike than he had the maid, because she was still unconscious. Oh well, she could catch up later if she needed to. "My name is Drake Stuart." he said disinterestedly, gaze wandering across the papered wall and across a cabinet displaying a regiment of china dishware and figurines. So he was a kidnapper now? Well, it was no lie, but Drake preferred more...refined terms for the hobby. Kidnapper sounded so...vulgar. And the boy would learn that it wasn't the proper word to affix to his host soon enough, once he realized he was in much deeper than a simple kidnapping.
When the boy spoke again, Drake couldn't help but smirk. "Oh, I'm not the one you'd best watch out for. I won't hurt you or your maid, lad, and I doubt she'll hurt me very much either." He spoke lazily, voice catlike and meandering. "But I suppose I should get to the point, now shouldn't I?" He mused, eyes sparking with sudden interest. "You do want to know what you're doing here, don't you? I wouldn't advise blundering about like an idiot, and you don't seem like one, lad." he spread his arms again, much more engaged now that he could speak.
"Listen close though, boy, I don't like repeating myself. We're going to play a game of last man standing. But what's a game without rules? There are four, or perhaps five, I'm not sure if Hassen's cleaned up yet, other boys and girls wandering my lovely manor, plus my two servants, James and Hassen, who are under orders to help those who take a liking to dawdling to speed the game up a bit. The last one alive wins the game, to put it simply. But there are a few other rules. You may not under any circumstance enter the library, my quarters, or the closed door on the second floor, or you will lose the game promptly." he flashed his teeth for a moment, but his smile was more feral than amiable by this point.
"Also, please do try not to get blood on the rugs, if you feel the urge to bleed to death, or inflict such an end on another. James isn't very skilled at cleaning the rugs." Drake chuckled briefly to himself. When would James break and decide he needed desperately to eat? It might be a few hours, long enough for the boy to recuperate, but Drake was confident that he ultimately end up hunting Miss Linnet down to stop the pain in his throat. He would need to remind the boy to clean up Dominic. And Lira. And his own blood. And Allease, after Hassen finished with her. Goodness, wasn't James slacking on his job. Drake made a mental note to reprimand the boy later.
Drake pulled himself back to the conversation at hand. "Oh, and if you kill my servants, I will be most displeased, so do try not to do them much damage or I'll have to hunt down replacements again." He shifted in his chair, his eyes moving back to focus on the boy before him again. "I do think that is all. Any questions?" He folded his hands in front of him, the faintest of smiles on his face, as if he'd just made mindless conversation about the weather instead of telling a captive human the rules of a game in which he must kill other humans to win. Win an impossible prize. He wondered if any of the longer staying residents would realize that there was no point to playing the game, they would die eventually, because he never let the population of his fair little home dwindle too far.
But they were humans, blinded by the immediate future, and they likely wouldn't live long enough to see the patterns, with the exception of Linnie, but the girl would die soon enough.
Humans lived such futile lives, didn't they.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:27:29 GMT
Andrew had noticed his location, but he had found no noticeable weapons or things to help him escape. Juliet was due to shortly wake up, but only after Andrew and Drake finished their conversation. Drake seemed to genuinely be happy that Andrew woke up, but Andrew knew better than to believe first impressions. "My name is Drake Stuart." Drake had just given Andrew a piece of information that would have been valuable, if Andrew had deep enough connections to know who Drake was. Andrew quickly tried seeing if he heard the name before, but nothing noticeable sparked in his memory. Andrew planned to catch Juliet up to speed later, but he would let her sleep for now. Andrew noticed that he had let the word kidnapper slip out, so he mentally slapped himself. He knew that it was stupid to aggravate captors, since it could get him killed earlier than he was supposed to be. He then noticed that he wasn't to be held for ransom, since his maid was brought along with Andrew. Many scenarios played out in Andrew's head, but none of the scenarios seemed plausible.
"Oh, I'm not the one you'd best watch out for. I won't hurt you or your maid, lad, and I doubt she'll hurt me very much either." Drake spoke lazily and as if he wasn't holding Andrew captive. Andrew wanted to kill Drake, but he couldn't simply kill Drake without figuring out what he was doing here and even if he could kill Drake. Andrew saw that Juliet was unconscious as well, so he guessed that Drake must have been extremely powerful or fast to be able to take down a great fighter like Juliet. "You were able to dispose of us easily, so I doubt I should be much of a threat to you." Andrew had a calm and amused tone in his voice, since he wasn't scared at all. "But I suppose I should get to the point, now shouldn't I?" Drake seemed to ask a rhetorical question, so Andrew saw no reason to answer. However, Andrew was interested when he saw that Drake's eyes sparked with interest. "Oh?" He raised a brow, since he would finally be told why he was brought here. "You do want to know what you're doing here, don't you?" Andrew would have replied to Drake's question, but Andrew decided to wait until Drake finished speaking. "I wouldn't advise blundering about like an idiot, and you seem like one, lad." Drake spread his arms as he complimented Andrew, but Andrew guessed that Drake meant this as a fact and not a compliment. Andrew would not make mistakes, since his life could be hanging by a simple thread. He would carefully plan his every word and movement, but he would want to seem like a rich and stupid child to those who haven't spoken to him.
"Listen close though, boy. I don't like repeating myself," Drake just revealed that he may or may not have a short temper, but Andrew kept note of this anyways and added the information to his arsenal. "We're going to play a game of last man standing. But what's a game without rules? There are four or perhaps five, I'm not sure if Hassen's cleaned up yet, other boys and girls wandering my lovely manor, plus my two lovely servants, James and Hassen who are under orders to help this who take a liking to dawdling to speed the game up a bit. Drake seemed like a psychopath, but Andrew wasn't fazed in the slightest. He now knew that he was in a sort of battle with others, and this strangely excited him. He now decided to act stupid and clumsy around the other players, since he wanted to seem as weak as possible. He wouldn't try taking anyone down, yet. He needed to figure out the weaknesses of people before attacking, since people could have nasty skills that could hinder Andrew's plans, "The last one alive wins the game, to put it simply. But there are a few other rules. You may not under any circumstance enter the library, my quarters, or the closed door on the second floor, or you will lose the game promptly." Andrew knew that Drake was possibly twisting the rules to his own advantage, since Andrew would do the same thing if he was in Drake's position. He guessed that he had been a late addition to the game and that he was simply a replacement, but he wasn't sure of Drake's intentions, yet. He didn't plan to enter the rooms he wasn't allowed to, since he guessed that losing meant death or something equal to that. He could try planning a revolt, but that would be boring and it wouldn't entertain him enough. He decided that he would write a journal before he died, since it would be a good idea to allow those who followed in his place have a certain advantage over Drake. He planned on dying, but he also planned on enjoying his life.
I will make this pitiful fool regret ever taking me into his little games. He will not forget my coming to his house, since I will ruin his games before I die. He licked his lips, since he planned on causing quite a bit of damage to Drake's games before he died. He was determined to mess up Drake's plans and cause anarchy to befall Drake's life. He was planning out so many things for the future, but he then remembered that it would be best to not think too much into the future and forget about the present or past.
"Also, please do try not to get blood on the rugs, if you feel the urge to bleed to death, or inflict such an end on another. James isn't very skilled at cleaning the rugs." Drake just told a joke, or at least Andrew thought Drake did. Andrew didn't plan on getting blood on any carpets, since he had seen how annoying it could be to get blood out of carpets. Andrew wondered if he could make any mediocre alliances, since it would be easy to blame someone if he seemed harmless. "I do think that is all. Any questions?" Drake folded his hands in front of him and he had a faint smile, and Andrew had the same sort of devilish smile on his face. Andrew was happy that he had been brought here, since he would finally have a place to put his genius to use. "I have one question. Do you have a notebook I can write in?" Andrew already had a sketch pad that he used to write on, but it was little and he couldn't use it to do much. He wanted a big notebook, so he could write a journal in it. He would write his journal in a code, so only intelligent people could figure out it's meaning and so he could hide it's true meaning from those who suspected him. He wasn't going to ask any questions other than this, since he could easily figure out the questions he had on his own. And, it wouldn't be enjoyable to be given the answers up front, since figuring out things was half of the fun.
Juliet then awoke and she quickly grabbed for her knife, but Andrew stopped her hand from reaching her knife. "Do not show such hostility in front of our host, you're being quite rude." Andrew laughed a bit, since his statement seemed ridiculous. To psychologists he would seem as if he was in denial, but he was simply enjoying the situation. However, Juliet was extremely confused. She had been knocked unconscious by the man in front of her, yet Andrew insisted she not attack the man in front of her. "I'll explain everything later." Andrew whispered this in her ear, but he did this for no reason. It wouldn't matter if Drake heard him, but it would be funny to make Drake strain to listen. Juliet reluctantly calmed down, but she was still prepared to fight at any second. She wasn't going to anger Drake, but she wasn't going to let her guard down. Andrew knew that Drake could kill both Juliet and Andrew, since Drake was able to knock both of the unconscious without trying much. Andrew didn't want to lose his only protection, since he needed Juliet to survive in the mansion's game. Andrew wished that he could play piano and think of plans, but he didn't know if the mansion would have a piano. Andrew was a dangerous person, but he wouldn't let the other tenants know this fact. He wished to hold the advantage of surprise, since he would have to kill the other tenants to survive. He wasn't going to kill Juliet and Drake would not be able to convince him to, since Drake held no leverage against Andrew. Drake could simply kill Juliet himself, but this would only leave Andrew without a reason to play the game. Drake could threaten Andrew with torture, but Andrew would eventually get used to the pain and learn to dull the pain. Andrew didn't want to kill Drake, since he saw a challenge in Drake. Juliet would like to get rid of Drake as soon as she could, since Drake was a threat to Andrew. However, she had to respect Andrew's wish to not kill Drake. Andrew would not interfere if Drake was getting killed, since Drake dying would be of convenience to Andrew.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:27:35 GMT
Truly, Saber expected everyone to serve him. He expected the woman to serve him because she was there and the servant was clearly not going to do it. So she was expected to fall into the position. Besides, Saber was too busy thinking to be bothered with preparing food. There seemed to be a game afoot, but no one was going to explain the rules. At the very least, Saber gathered that the game involved bloodshed which was enough to make him very interested. A part of him knew that the thought of hurting someone else should not cause him quite so much joy. A part of him knew that that was sick and twisted. However, the rest of him enjoyed being sick and twisted too much to pay morality much mind. Morality was for the weak who were bound by societal laws. When one had enough money to buy any sort of entertainment, it was easy to get bored easily. One had to invent new ways to entertain oneself.
Now, if Saber wanted to get very psychoanalytical about the whole mess, he probably could have drawn a line between the lack of attention he received and some sort of traumatic event in his past. There were sometimes fuzzy memories of something dark, but he mostly just ignored them and did his best to block those out. Besides, seeing blood seemed to help him forget that deep aching emptiness. Seeing others suffering was just so…so fulfilling. It calmed that strange ache and allowed him to focus on other things as well.
Now, Saber wished someone would explain the rules of the game so that he could get on with playing. And with anything Saber did, he expected to win. And he expected to have an absolutely brilliant time as he carved his way to victory. For a moment Saber spared a thought about that bleeding man that the servant, Hassen, had been carrying. If Saber knew anything about blood loss, and he liked to think he was nearly an expert, that man probably should have been dead. So what, then, had been keeping him alive? Was something else afoot? Something…supernatural? That thought made a chill run down Saber’s spine, a rare occurrence. It was difficult to tell if the shiver was of fear or excitement, though. Perhaps of both, since he was so rarely afraid of anything anymore. Knowing that he could still feel a little fear was just too wonderful for words. And even more exciting.
If there was something supernatural involved in what was going on here, then that increased the risk. As well as the ultimate payoff. It meant that Saber did not know everything that was going on which both amused and irritated him. Saber liked to be in control, but he also enjoyed some surprises. Soon enough he would know everything that was going on.
Saber noticed the woman’s slight amusement at his glance and smirked in response. Oh, she would be fun to figure out. He wondered what would ultimately happen to her if this game was going to go as he expected. How long would she last? For a moment, he openly measured her, considering her height and weight. Would she be able to fight against someone who attacked her? Saber was youngish and slender, but he was fast. He doubted he would be able to overpower some if he was confronted physically, but he could escape fairly easily. Now was not the time for that. There was no reason to hurt the woman right now. Especially because he was not bored. This new situation was providing enough entertainment to keep him busy for a while. With a slight chuckle, Saber shook his head. He really needed to stop getting so ahead of himself and enjoy the present.
“A snack, yes. A proper meal, though, not particularly. There has never been a reason for me to learn,” He said with a strangely genuine-looking smile as he turned to the woman for a moment. He then continued his search. After a little digging he found a few rolls and some jam. He also found a knife. Though, unfortunately, not a particularly sharp one. He may want to find one for later. For protection, of course. Saber piled his finds onto a plate and carried it over to the table. Sitting down, he ripped into the bread and started to spread a sizable portion of jam on it.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:27:42 GMT
Dante sat quiet, reserved, watching the young man before her. Part of her wanted to run out of there, but the cold layer of numbness she had donned since waking up to this mess, in this place… well, it certainly kept her in place, oddly calm in the midst of chaos and all of these new, disturbing experiences. She feared her mind might collapse upon itself if she ever let go of this layer. Perhaps she would forever be forced to wear it to preserve her sanity and her ice cold ability to logically deduct things easily enough. Dante knew she was an intelligent woman, but sometimes, especially right now, she almost wished it had not been so. Things would have been much easier to her had she been dumb enough to not fully recognize the situation she was in.
But then, had she been dumber, she would most likely soon look like the gruesome, dead body she had seen practically hollowed, all of his inner working gone, as the tall, blonde… creature, had put him on his shoulder and dragged him along, as though he had merely been a sack of potatoes or flour. She had such trouble figuring out how something like that could be normal in such a way. It was beyond her. She was missing pieces of the puzzle it seemed, and she did not particularly like that thought. It displeased her quite a bit, in fact. She needed those pieces, she needed more knowledge, she needed someone who could answer her many question.
What is going on? Why am I here? What exactly happened to that dead man? How come the servant does not speak and where did he get his horrid scar? Will we ever be let out of here? Am I dead? Who and what is the blonde, tall male, and why did he have red eyes? Why does everyone seem to think of pools of blood in the hallways as normal? So terribly many questions completely unanswered, and she wondered if she would have to figure them out herself or actually find some truthful being here who could talk, and who knew enough. She doubted the likeliness of that, and so, Dante merely sat quiet, doing nothing.
However, when Saber spoke, answering her question with an almost lighthearted, genuine smile, she looked into his eyes. It was all the reaction she seemed able of. It was no interesting conversation, and she did not wish for this young man to figure her out the way his eyes so seemed to try to. But she did wonder at his smile. What did he have to smile for? The last thing Dante felt like doing, was smile. She doubted anything could wring a true smile from her anytime soon. Not in this place. She was much too dissatisfied.
She watched him quietly as he finally sat with his “snack”, not having said a word in response as of yet. Then finally she cleared her throat tactfully, blinking once, green eyes ever observant of Saber’s every move. “I see,” she noted easily, her voice containing no actual emotion, yet it was not entirely cold either. Somehow she had found the most perfectly indifferent, observant yet not hostilely cold tone of voice. It was a wonder, really, but she supposed the numbness coated her voice along with her mind. She would not be surprised if it happened to be so.
“Young men rarely do,” she then added, tilting her head slightly as she watched him. “I suppose that is nothing uncommon.” She blinked only once then, no other expression touching her face. For some reason she wanted to converse with this person, but she did not wish to breach the more serious subject of the situation they both seemed to find themselves in. This was highly uncommon.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:27:50 GMT
The human looked interested, but was it genuine of just a mask over inner fear? Drake didn't know, and he didn't particularly care. If the boy was interested, well, that was good for the game, and if he was internally scared stiff then, well, he'd die and that was good for the game too, wasn't it. The question about a notebook caused the daemon to lift his eyebrow for a moment. What would he want that for? Drake contemplated refusing, but then decided against it. Perhaps it would interesting to see what the human child wanted it for. "You'll have to ask James or Hassen about that, they're in charge of the supplies and such." He said, for he really didn't want to deal with searching something suitable out, he was too busy a man for such trivial things. And perhaps it would get the boy locked further inside the game, since at the moment he was completely separated from it, as there had been no other humans to collect, no one to create any sense of tension. But speaking of humans, Drake realized that he'd almost completely forgotten about the two less recent arrivals, the quiet woman, Miss, no, Mrs. Valentine, and Mister Cantin. He'd left them to Hassen, but the man couldn't verily explain to them the nuances nor the rules of the game.
At that moment, the female started, moving towards a weapon with her first conscious movement. Drake tensed, preparing to counter whatever attack she had in store, though it wouldn't bother him much to take any wound she had to offer, it would let them see just how powerful he was, perhaps instill a bit more fear into them. The boy stopped her, however, and Drake smirked. Of course. It was a shame though, it would have been rather fun to deal with that. the woman seemed bewildered at the boy's calm demeanor, and Drake spectated disinterestedly, resting his chin on one hand as he waited for them to be done with whatever trivial human things they were doing so he could get on with things. He whispered something to her, perhaps he was planning something? That would be entertaining. Young mister White seemed an intelligent boy, it he had something up his sleeve it would be most amusing to watch it unfold, whether it succeeded or failed was beside the point. So long as the boy didn't disappoint him like Lira had, flailing his knife around like an idiot and ultimately finding his end by the hand of a frightened little girl. The only worrisome thing was the woman, who seemed to be the boy's protector, as Hassen had looked over his master, as the stupid, sweet little servant still did. Such servitude was unthinking, and it would be very difficult to tear apart. But that was part of the fun, wasn't it?
When he deemed the child was done conferencing with the woman, Drake stood, stretching his spine and folding his hands behind him. "Well, come along then, boy, I'm sure the others are most anxious to meet you." he said dryly glancing at the human before moving towards the nearer exit to the front parlor, the one that passed through the main hall. He'd check the kitchen, first, though he wasn't sure if the humans would still be there. It was worth a shot though, and he could explain to them where their quarters were at the same time.
As they passed the hall that ultimately led to the humans' quarters, Drake paused for a moment, pointing down the hall. "Your quarters are down that hall and to the left from here, if you so wish to use them." He informed the humans, then continued on down the hall. They'd be able to find their way back from the kitchen if they wished, it was a nearly straight forward path.
The two humans he'd been looking for were indeed in the kitchen still, Drake was delighted to discover. He beckoned to the boy before stepping through the doorway to the kitchen, examining the two. They seemed to be making aimless small talk and the male had scrounged up some food. He smiled slightly, turning to see if the two humans he'd been escorting had made it inside.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Valentine, Mister Cantin." He said pleasantly to the two humans, offering a shark tooth smile.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:27:56 GMT
Andrew would have allowed his maid to fight, if he didn't care about her or his safety. He knew that she would probably have died if she fought Drake, so he decided to not waste her life. He knew that it was possible for her to betray him, but he simply didn't care about his death as long as he got a chance to have some fun before he died. If his plans failed, then so be it.
"Well, come along then, boy, I'm sure the others are most anxious to meet you." Drake just sparked a question in Andrew's mind. Had the other house guests been alerted to his presence? If so, did they know anything about him? Andrew thought this to himself. He knew that he couldn't rely on every word that came out of Drake's mouth to be true, but it would be inconvenient if the other party already knew who he was. He would prefer to be seen as a good little child, so he would not be targeted when someone was killed. Andrew looked at the direction that Drake went, then Andrew followed Drake. Juliet followed behind Andrew, awaiting danger. Andrew noticed the abrupt pause in a hallway, but he didn't know what to make of the pause. "Your quarters are down that hall and to the left from here, if you so wish to use them." Drake informed. Andrew highly doubted that the others would pass up the opportunity to kill him in his sleep, but he knew that sleep was important. Juliet wondered how she could isolate the dangers present. Andrew would explore the house later on, so he could make a map. The map would be included in his sketch pad. He planned on getting a notebook from either James or Hassen, whoever they were. He would use the notebook to store false information, so he wouldn't be suspected of anything by Drake. He would try to figure out as much as he could about Drake and his servants, so the sketch pad could be filled to the brim with information.
Andrew and Juliet followed Drake through the kitchen door. Andrew closely examined the two in the kitchen, but he didn't see anything of interest. He would have to speak with the later, under the alias of an innocent and lost child. He knew that a kitchen could be a dangerous place, so he stayed away from any storage device that could hold a knife. Of course he didn't know that there were barely and sharp knives in the kitchen, so he would have to be cautious. He knew that the two people originally in the kitchen could be as sick and twisted as he was, since he could easily hide behind a facade of innocence. Fooling Drake would be a futile and stupid effort, since Drake had already seen the intelligence Andrew had. However, the two in the kitchen hadn't, and he planned on keeping the situation that way. Juliet felt no reason to be tense, since Andrew seemed to be calm and collected. He seemed to not even acknowledge the fact that he could be killed any second. She could easily counter any knives thrown in her direction, unless her glasses were removed. Her glasses were her Achilles heel, and mostly anybody who was sensible could tell that. Andrew frowned a bit due to him noticing that his business would probably plummet, but he quickly regained his fake good appearance. "Hello, how are you?" He directed this question towards the two that were originally in the kitchen. He had a calm and friendly tone to his voice, but a calculating and cold mind was behind that voice. Anyone who had seen what Andrew had done would know that the voice would never belong to him, but anyone who hasn't seen through his facade would probably think that he was a good person. He could barely fight, but he let Juliet do all the fighting for him. He would be vulnerable for a short time if Juliet were to suddenly die, but he could simply employ someone to do his dirty work by messing with their mind. He wondered what the two were truly like. He would soon find out, that is, if he survived long enough to. Juliet didn't smile and she didn't even speak to the two in the kitchen. She had no need to speak to them, and she didn't know what Andrew was planning to do. She couldn't exactly ask him what he planned to do, while in front of people probably involved in the plan.
He was strangely worried about the business transactions and meetings that he would not be able to supervise. He shouldn't have worried about that, but he was too used to his plans always working. However, he had never experienced anything like his current situation, so he would have to adapt and learn quickly. He had thought about lurking and gaining information slowly, but that would make him seem mysterious and a plausible suspect. He wouldn't want to be the first person suspected of a murder in the house, since that would severely hinder his plans. He could easily frame anyone of anything, but it would be an annoyance to setup someone. He didn't have the materials he usually had, so that would prove another problem. Quite frankly, he relied too much on having power all the time.
He would want to die in the most painful way imaginable, so his existence would always be remembered. He wasn't afraid of Drake, but he wasn't stupid enough to say the wrong thing and get killed. He didn't want to quite yet. Andrew's strongest fear was not being able to complete his plans, and this fear could be used as an advantage if a person knew this was Andrew's fear and knew what Andrew's plans were. Andrew wished to know where Hassen and James were, but he decided that meeting the two people already in the kitchen would be a much more important task.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:28:06 GMT
There was clearly something wrong with him. Well, by others’ definitions of sane and not, there was something wrong with him. However, Saber thought he was going about this quite logically. After all, there was no reason for him to be frightened or quite as disturbed as the woman looked. If they wanted him dead, he would be dead already. Clearly, this was going to be some sort of entertainment. And this was definitely a kind of entertainment that he could get onboard with.
“Well, then again, young men in such positions as mine should rarely need to know such a thing. We have other things to be concerning ourselves with and other things that occupy our thoughts. Young men such as myself leave such knowledge to those who do not have to concern themselves with the greater questions in life,” Saber said with a smile once more. He was quite well educated in the great philosophers and the great thinkers of the world. Much of his time, when not spent learning how to run the family business despite his wishes, was spent pondering the meaning of life and the like. Of course, he tested various theories and thoughts in cruel ways, but beneath his layers of debauchery and demented nature, Saber liked to believe he was truly a thinking man.
And then their host arrived. Saber looked up from his snack and returned the creature’s shark toothed grin with one of his own. Finally, they would get to officially meet the mastermind of this game, if it were truly a game. There “meeting” a few minutes ago had not been particularly informative. As much as Saber enjoyed the puzzle of trying to figure out the game’s rules, he would also appreciate some guidance. At the very least, he would like to know the easiest way to win this, because he very much intended to win. If he ultimately lost, well, he would make sure to have fun along the way. Saber of course realized that losing the game probably meant losing his life along with it. But what was his life worth, truly? While he believed it was worth a great deal more than most people’s lives, he had often viewed it as something he was more than happy to lose in the pursuit of entertainment. If he was a proper Christian, then he probably should have feared the afterlife.
Thankfully, he had no such spiritual qualms. If he had a soul originally, Saber was fairly confident he had already lost it along the way. Who knew though? It was not worth Saber’s time to truly contemplate. Why should he work so hard in this life for a reward that he only received when he was dead? That would make this life awfully boring.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:28:16 GMT
Sleep became fitful quickly. The weight on his shoulder, the gash in his throat, James could not stand it. His body was waking up slowly, in spits and bursts, he could move his hands but not his arms, he could bend his knees but not lift his legs. He couldn't get away. Hassen had lost threat status, the male seemed content to just lay somewhat still, possibly asleep or just relaxing. James couldn't tell. His head still wasn't clear enough to use his senses to even an ounce of their capacity. The only thing he could hear was his heart thumping in his ears and the only thing he could smell was death, even with his face averted the scent was terribly alluring but painfully forbidden. Maddening, almost. Thankfully, the ribbons of skin Drake had made his flesh into were starting to close up, at least at skin level. His artery had sealed itself too, so the only blood dripping occasionally from his neck now was the slow leak from his muscle tissue. It was only a surface wound now, as if it had never been anything worse. The less crucial damage would take days to heal, however, and would cause him exorbitant amounts of pain and bleeding at the same time. Not enough to incapacitate him again, but enough. Too much.
He'd only slept for a few minutes, less than thirty, but he didn't know how long exactly. Now he needed to escape. Hassan was not a threat now, but that didn't mean he couldn't change on a dime. And James was in no state to deal with him. He didn't need to be broken anymore than he was. His trembling hand reached up and rested on the top of Hassan's head, as gently as he could, just in case the male was asleep. James certainly didn't want to wake him. It took great effort to lift Hassan's head off his shoulder, but once he'd done it he surged with triumph, slipping off the bed, knees buckling the moment his feet hit the ground. His arms stopped him from sliding all the way off, but his head was hanging down like he had no spine. It was too heavy and his neck too weak still.
James stared carefully at Hassen as he found his footing, pulling himself to his feet, wobbling wildly. His torso was slightly slumped, and his head hung down as if he was still being carried. The door. He had to make it to the door. Once he got out into the hall he'd be okay. Everything would be okay. he could slump against the wall and crawl up the stairs to the attic and hide in his room. No one would find him there. He'd be safe there.
The boy made his way painstakingly towards the door, stepping on his own feet, knees shaking. He built up a bit of momentum and ran straight into the door, pushing it all the way open and tumbling to the ground, crumpling in a small bloody pile. His head bumped the ground, making him briefly loose consciousness as all the blood in his body fell from his brain into his feet and hands. When his eyes flicked open again it was with bewilderment. Where was he? His head was throbbing. Maybe he shouldn't think, just lay here. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. He should just rest. He was feeling kind of light headed anyway. Which was kind of strange. Maybe it was because he'd taken a bit of a fall. That wouldn't explain the splitting pain in his neck, but that really didn't matter.
It took a bit of effort to roll himself onto his back, but once he did his blurry eyes landed on Linnet. Oh, what was she doing here? He smiled shakily at her, traces of bewilderment lingering hazily on his features. He probably looked a sight, like a baby dragon most like, covered in blood and bedraggled. The blood had most certainly come from the pain in his neck, but where had the wound come from? Staring at Linnie for a few seconds made everything come back in short order, however. Oh. Oh. That was how that had happened. The quavering smile dropped off his face, replaced by a pained look. She'd seemed to frightened. Was she alright now. He wished to stand up and make sure, but he didn't think he could do more than prop his back up against the wall at this moment. If he could even make it to the wall, which was a stretch.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:28:54 GMT
“Well, then again, young men in such positions as mine should rarely need to know such a thing. We have other things to be concerning ourselves with and other things that occupy our thoughts. Young men such as myself leave such knowledge to those who do not have to concern themselves with the greater questions in life,” The young man said after her comment, and she merely looked at him, completely inexpressive as she’d taken to being after arriving in this place. She wasn’t quite sure what to think of him. He didn’t seem stupid, but then, children stemming from families with money rarely were; after all, there was the matter of education. But although she did not consider him unintelligent, she had a slight feeling that his arrogance would get him into trouble at some point. Arrogant people had this tendency to think they could do more than they actually could.
She tilted her head slightly to the side as she observed his every expression, the silence stretching between them. She really didn’t like him. There. That was the sad fact. She was captured in a house with some odd, red-eyed creature, a servant who could barely talk because the entire one side of his face seemed to have been cut in two at some point, a scared little girl who’d sat shaking in the corner, a hollowed out corpse, a boy who was probably dead from blood loss by now, and in the kitchen with her was another bloody corpse on the counter, and a spoiled rich kid who ate without a single concern. Honestly, what was her life coming to?
She did not speak to him again. For one, because she did not wish to, but honestly it was mostly because their apparent host entered the kitchen just then. She turned slightly in her seat to face him silently. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Valentine, Mister Cantin." He greeted them, his voice friendly in a way, yet the smile he offered along with it, made Dante’s skin crawl. He was no man. She was sure of it. She had never been one to believe in the supernatural. In fact, she had only ever considered it superstitions. Yet this… creature… could not possibly be human. He just couldn’t. Still, her distress did not show. In spite of how confusing this situation was, Dante knew that showing emotions was never going to help her with anything. So she stood, completely expressionless as she curtsied politely.
That was how she had been raised. Plain and simple. And hey, she figured it could not harm to do so. She drew in a deep breath, remaining standing as her eyes fell on the two he’d brought with him. More people who he had kidnapped? No matter, she would soon find out. He had addressed them, so perhaps he would at last diverge what the purpose was to all of this. Shaking that thought off for the time being, Dante analyzed the two newcomers, her eyes completely void of any emotion. She had not missed the way the young male’s eyes had watched both her and Saber, but just then his expression had changed from coldly calculating to innocent and friendly. The change made her wary. Especially as he then seemed to frown before remembering to revert back to the innocent front.
Hmm. So young, he seemed, yet his eyes, as much as he tried to hide it, were older than they should be. The female next to him had a stiff air to her. She didn’t seem all that tense, yet something about her reminded Dante of a predator about to strike. Her eyes flickered seemingly disinterestedly to the dead body on the counter to the newcomers again, only to land finally on Drake. Then, however, the boy spoke, asking her and Saber how they were. Green eyes slowly made their way to him. How was she? She watched him closely then. Not too good, honestly, but then… he didn’t really care about that, did he? His facial expression had ever so briefly flickered to something a lot less innocent, and Dante couldn’t help feeling like he was trying to be someone he was not. People did not shift like that if they were not trying to put up some front. His seemed very conscious, as opposed to her own odd façade, which came naturally and therefore did not flicker as such. She didn’t like it, and she certainly did not trust it. She had been around way too many people just like that.
But then, she supposed she could brush it off as though she had perceived the question only to be directed at Saber. After all, she wasn’t really too used to being addressed directly that way. As such, Dante said nothing, but instead redirected her gaze once more to land on Drake. The pale, tall figure was the only person whose words held any importance in this moment.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:29:25 GMT
Linnet watched the door nervously, both dreading and hoping for any sign of movement. She took a hesitant step forward, quickly backing to the safety of the corner at the slightest imagined sound. She tried hard not to panic, but it was too late for that. It was difficult to think in any rational patterns, and her thoughts jumbled together until she could hardly move. Should she go in and find James? Could she help him anyway, or was it too late? Should she even be going after him? What if he was.... She shied away from the thought with a wince. She could not allow herself to think that way yet.
A noise coming from the room startled her, and she stared wide-eyed at the partially open door, her heart fluttering. She was tensed and ready to run at the slightest provocation, but she had to know what was happening. Abruptly, the door flung open, and James crumpled to the ground. Linnie gave a small gasp, taking a couple stumbling steps toward the collapsed boy. She hesitated, unsure of what to do, but as soon as James's eyes rested on her with a small smile, she rushed over and knelt beside him.
He struggled to get up, but he was far too weak. Linnet gently pulled his head into her lap, quickly realizing just how bloody he was. Looking at his blood smeared face with concern, she quietly said, "S... Sur James...." The way she said it seemed like she was trying to see if he was alright, and her voice was husky, as if she was on the verge of tears. She gently began wiping the blood from his face and neck, carefully avoiding the slashed skin on his throat. It was quickly apparent that the wound was much more shallow than it had been, and Linnie could not mask her surprise, nor did she try to. However, her surprise was quickly replaced by an odd concern, one that seemed almost accepting. Her eyes dropped from James's, her hand slowing until it stopped as she hunched in a posture that spoke of defeat.
Though it appeared she was accepting what James really was, really, Linnet had made the decision that she would escape no matter the cost. She had to be wary for any opportunity to leave this horrid place. She simply had to, and she had finally accepted that. There would be no salvation here, though Drake had said the last person standing would win, he had already brought more people to replace those who had died. There would never be a last one alive.
She briefly hoped that she would be able to take James with her when she escaped, but it was apparent now that he was as much a part of this game as Drake, the angel of death, was. She realized now why she had felt so attached to James. He reminded her of someone she had known. They cared for each other on the streets, and she loved him as her a brother, but he was just as quickly gone, taken by disease as she watched helplessly. She could no longer allow herself to become attached to James, simply because he was not hers to attach to.
Drakes words came to mind, "I'll tell you a secret, Little Miss Witch. This time, our little friend over here isn't going to be fed until you go and die. And no sooner either, since he's been a bad little servant. He's not allowed to go and make nice little friends today. So you better go kick the bucket before the boy tears your throat out." There was no doubt in her mind that what Drake said was possible. She did not resent James for it in any way, but merely accepted the fact.
Suddenly, she heard a noise from inside the room, and her head shot up. This was no time to sit and think, Hassen could appear at any moment. Linnet felt foolish for forgetting that. Listening to make sure Hassen would not come out at that moment, Linnie whispered, "Sur James,... Do... Do ya think ya could stand if I 'elped? Can't stay 'ere...." Her eyes went back to the open door before alighting again on James face. Her hand darted out, almost by its own volition, to wipe a speck of blood from his cheek, resting there a moment longer than necessary. She looked as though she could cry for the pain that she had caused him, and she slowly removed her hand and began to position herself so she could help James stand.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:29:40 GMT
The air in the room was tense, hushed. Everyone was trying to put on a show, it seemed. Mister Cantin was grinning, apparently eager to be initiated properly into the game. He had no idea what waited in store for him. Oh, but wouldn't it be amusing if he died with that selfsame smile on his face? The girl, Mrs. Valentine, was staring at him, her face inscrutable. She truly was a lady, wasn't she. How much longer would she be able to keep it up though? They'd had a calm first hour, he'd have to do his best to fix that. Little Mister White had adopted a polite, innocent voice, inquiring to the health of the others. No one responded. And there was another in the room, someone who Drake had no anticipated. Someone delightfully dead. He crossed the room, gathering her in his arms. Allease. Hassen had done a lovely bit of work on her skull with his weapon of choice, a thin bar of iron.
Her face was still contorted with surprise, apparently she'd thought herself safe hiding in her room. He pulled her off the table where she'd rested, and her feet slid down to brush the floor as he held her upper torso so he could examine her. The back of her dress was still torn, and bandaging could still be seen. The wound had begun to heal without a hitch, but it seemed that skin would never be whole again. satisfied with his servant's work, he folded her over his arm as if she was washing, her arms hanging down limply. She dripped blood from her wounds onto the floor. Yet another thing James would have to clean later. My, he really was getting behind. Silly boy. He'd been so busy playing with his little friend that he'd not done any of his chores at all. Oh well. Drake did not mind living in a bloody manor, though his guests might find it a bit disquieting. Finding corpses laying about really wasn't a pleasant experience for one who didn't regularly deal with them. Especially Lira's corpse, who'd had quite a number dealt to his chest.
After the short sidetrack, Drake brought his attention back to his guests. "Mister White has already heard the rules, so he may find himself something to eat if he wishes," he said, waving the young man towards the table the other two were standing around. "But I shall assume that Hasssen hasn't told the two of you anything, yes?" His eyes turned back to the man and woman, landing on Dante for an extended moment before flicking to Saber. "He's not much for rules, but he is very good at punishing those who break them." His voice was off-handed as he bounced Allease's corpse in his arm a few times.
"As you've likely already surmised, since you've met Lira's corpse, this is a game of last man standing. Or woman, of course." His eyes flicked back to Dante for a moment, skating over her features before returning to Saber's face once again. "Last person alive wins." That was technically not a lie, considering he would still be alive at the end of it all, and he'd win the opportunity to eat their souls. Probably not the kind of prize they had in mind though. "But if you dawdle your friend Hassen will make short work of you. He also won't like it much if you enter the library, or my quarters, or the closed door on the second floor. He's a lot faster than he looks. Which reminds me, don't kill my servants please, that isn't polite." Was that it? Yes, that seemed like everything.
"And I'll guess that you'd like some introductions, yes?" He pointed at Andrew and his servant. "That is Mister Andrew White and Miss Juliet Lockwook. You've already seen Miss Linnet Mallory, though she won't be around for much longer, the little spitfire, and Miss Elizabeth Richardson is probably hiding somewhere about here. And you've met both Hassen and James, the little scrap." Where had the two of them run off to anyway? Hassen had been accompanying these two, and James had been bleeding out on the floor. Maybe the lad took his little friend off somewhere? They played a bit rough, but was rather cute watching them hiss and scratch at each other. Silly little servants. Someone was going to loose an eye or a limb eventually, but for now Drake was ever so happy to spur their spats. Hassen was such a sweet little creature, but he was ever so mortal. James knew better than to hurt him badly or he himself would suffer the consequences.
Drake smiled fondly as he thought of the two servants before bringing his attention back to the matter at hand. "Do we have any questions, Mrs. Valentine, Mister Cantin? Don't hesitate to ask, I won't bite." The shark grin that had curled back up on his face said otherwise, and James's throat still held the evidence of just how sharp those teeth really were. He'd rested his other hand on the corpse's abdomen, which was bloated and pushed outwards since that part of her damaged spine rested right on his arm, and now he leaned against the bloodied table he'd found her on, examining the faces of the two humans like they were the most interesting creatures he'd ever met.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:29:47 GMT
As time had passed, Hassen had slipped deeper and deeper into sleep. Every muscle relaxed, easing the pain that had collected from the constant use and abuse. Hopefully now the torn muscles would be able to heal themselves before more damage was done. Surely Drake would be insistent upon further "incentives" for the humans to continue playing. A little chase and roughhousing would do the trick.
But for now, sleep.
James shifted his head, pushing it off the boy's shoulder. The servant grunted but otherwise gave no signs of life. The boy was free to roll off the bed. Once James and left Hassen's side, however, the servant whined and reached up to paw blindly at the empty space. The warmth had suddenly left his side, forcing him to a state of near wakefulness. Not quite awake, not quite asleep, the servant tried to settle himself back to a comfortable position but couldn't seem to do so. The comforting warmth was gone, leaving behind the stink of fresh blood and month-old death.
Death?
There had been no warning. Time had seemed to actually speed up for a change. Odd. Didn't it normally slow down during these times? Esther had freed herself somehow and snatched up the cane. The first blow had been accidental, but the man had fallen down hard. The second blow was weak but purposeful. The third and fourth blows strong and powerful. Each blow afterward worked her even further into a maddened, frightened frenzy. Again and again the cane came down even after the startled cry had long been silenced mid-yell. Again and again.
Again and again.
She wouldn't stop. She was hurting the master and she wouldn't stop. He had to do something. Anything! He had chosen to use his body to protect his master. Jumping between the armed woman and her target, he had gathered his master's body to him and screamed.
There had been blood everywhere. Some from him, some from the master. He couldn't tell which was whose and who had lost more. He just knew that there was pain everywhere and, somewhere deep inside he knew, there was nothing to comfort him.
A frightened cry startled him completely out of his subconscious whatchamacallit as he rolled off the bed. The stench of death disappeared with his waking up but the blood on the bed still caught his attention. There was blood but no James. Why was there no James? The servant took a moment to check on Alexander, making sure the man was still sleeping peacefully. As far as he could tell, there was nothing amiss with his master and so he hobbled to the door in search of James. Deep in his subconscious, he knew something was wrong. He needed to go back and check again because was terribly, horribly wrong with his master. He could feel it. But there was nothing he could do. Not right now.
Opening the door completely, he eyed the wall in mild confusion before stepping out. The German servant seemed... lost. Confused. Mildly terrified, even. It was like he had regained a lost piece of himself, only to have it snatch away from under his nose.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:29:55 GMT
Linnie’s face appeared more fully above him as James closed his eyes halfway. He was so tired. What he really needed was to curl up somewhere safe and sleep off this horror for a few hours. But Hassen was still a looming threat he couldn’t afford to ignore. Mostly because he was fearful to his core, and in this state it was matter over mind, instinct of rationality. Hassen was always a threat, so obviously he still had to be a threat. It didn’t matter that the man hadn’t displayed any threatening behaviour or done more than haul him off somewhere else, Hassan was a threat. Not just to himself, but to Linnie. And he couldn’t…not another…he wouldn’t let her… James was distracted from his frantic thoughts by Linnie’s voice. His green eyes slid open again to meet hers. She looked worried. He couldn’t manage a smile to reassure her though.
Nonetheless she began mopping his face and neck up carefully. He couldn’t help but sigh softly, relaxing. Her concern was calming, though he could feel great tension from her form. She was dealing with her own problems. Or maybe he was her problem, James wondered as her eyed dropped and she hunched over slightly. He could do nothing to consol her, though he wished to; his entire self was trembling already, and he was trying to do nothing more than pull himself into a proper sitting position. It was not working in the slightest bit however, more than a few odd jerks he was limp as a ragdoll. His veins and arteries were suffering from tiny pricks of pain; they were slowly filling back up with blood, but not fast enough. He was still white as a sheet underneath the layer of blood on his face, and he’d spent the energy gained from his fitful sleep.
Suddenly she jerked, her body becoming alert. She looked towards the door, which he could not see, but he knew what her fear was. Hassen. Was he there, or had she just heard a sound from within? No, he couldn’t be there, his breathing would be audible if he was that close. But the sounds of him stirring were dangerous enough as it was. Adrenaline stung his system as his heart rate increased past it’s already painfully laboured beating, coughing out fear. Linnie looked towards the door for a few seconds like a startled rabbit before looking down at him. He nodded in response to her whispered request. In between the seconds of fear, suddenly, she reached out and brushed her finger across his face lightly as if wiping away a drop of blood, but the gesture lasted a bit too long for that. He stared up at her, trying to silently communicate his thanks, and she withdrew her hand.
She looked about ready to cry, but James couldn’t fathom why. Maybe it was because she’d been through so much. She didn’t deserve it, but there was nothing he could do to fix it. And he didn’t deserve her kindness either, but he knew he should pay it back to the best of his ability. She deserved to be protected to the best of his ability. Drake had intended him to attack and kill her but he would exercise restraint. His wounds would heal, he would be fine. And so would she. For as long as he could make it so. Which honestly wasn’t very long. Even if she did manage to hold onto life for another month, he would go mad with starvation and all bets would be off, but he chose to ignore that fact? It wasn’t important in this moment.
She shifted and he clung to her, getting his shaking knees under him again, his arms wrapped around her upper arm as if he was afraid to fall again, which was very likely outcome if he let go of her. His knees were only just able to support his weight, mostly due to the urgency of the situation. His head, however, was a different story. Keeping it up required a surprising amount of effort, and as he made his way to his feet it occasionally fell forward. He didn’t want to stare at the floor however; they had to get out of this place and he needed to put himself fully to that cause. He could deal with being hurt, but he couldn’t defend Linnie in this state.
They began a haphazard escape down the hall, but it was slow going. James felt like dead weight, though he could stand on his feet he couldn’t make them move very far. It was like moving in molasses his limbs were heavy and slow and he couldn’t change anything. Even the urgency couldn’t bring enough vigor to his bloodstream to strengthen him much more than this trembling state. He made a sound of distress at the situation, gritting his teeth so his head wouldn’t fall back on Linnet’s shoulder. He wanted to urge her to go on by herself, but he couldn’t summon the strength to communicate such a complicated thought.
And then it was too late to do much of anything. Hassen swung the door open, emerging loudly. James froze completely, not able to even look around for a moment, features twisted in slack dismay. Nothing happened for a moment and then he was able to turn his head enough to see Hassan. The man was just…standing there. The expression on his face was mostly confusion. Like he’d stepped out of the door into world he’d never seen before. It was a curious expression. James didn’t spend much time watching Hassan other than times in which they were sparring or he was hunting the male, and he’d never seen this particular expression cross the now twisted features of the other servant. Before…before he could remember once when the male had emerged from a room with guarded confusion on his face, but that was a lifetime ago in a different place under different circumstances. That had been explainable. The man had been innocent back then. Well, it hadn’t stopped him from trying to beat the tar out of James a few hours before that particular scene (Broke his wrist and left him with some nasty bruising, if he recalled correctly. All those fights had long since blurred together though, it was hard to tell), but that had been explainable as well. James would have done the same thing in his position.
This confusion wasn’t able to be explained away by circumstance. And it was tinged by fear, it seemed. Most enthralling, that fear. They really needed to get out of here. James’s fingers tightened on Linnie’s shoulder, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t move. He was rooted in place by the threat, the weakness of his frame, and the curiosity. He might have handled one or two well enough, but all three together were deadly, locking his knees and sapping his strength with this tense moment. On a poorly thought out decision he tried to push Linnie away, urge her to flee without him, but he mostly just pushed himself down onto the ground again. No amount of frantic reaching stopped him from landing hard on his back again, a squeak of dismay escaping his mouth as he sprawled out. Maybe Linnie got his message though and would move on. It wasn’t safe for her to be by herself, but it was less safe for her to be here when Hassan was obviously unpredictable, judging by the expression on his face.
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