welcome_rpg | welcome to mayfield: day 3

Entry tags:

!day 3

welcome to mayfield: day 3

[Those who wake up in the town on the third day will soon notice that something's definitely off. The cracks in the sky are appearing more frequently and lasting for minutes at a time, and there's a strange white fog drifting over the clouds.

For those who've just arrived, welcome to our new little town! We're sure you're glad to see your missing friends again; nothing to worry about here, they've just been too busy enjoying the upgraded carnival to go back home. Any bleeding limbs or serious wounds you may spot are obviously just a sign of how much fun they've been having.]

OOC: If your character damages or affects the carnival or town in a noticeable and normally permanent way, please comment here.

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So I've found. It keeps you all interesting.

[He shrugs.]

Not a whole lot--my body's designed to be ready for a fight at any time. I'll be fine for a few days.

[He glances around the area.]

You've been staying here during the day?

That's good, then.

[Then she laughs and holds a finger up.]

Yes. This is where I'm staying. Don't tell anyone? Old habits die hard...

There are the moment-to-moment concerns, and then there are the concerns that come to you on the cold, rat-filled nights when you wonder if you might ever be free of this hellish place...

[It's said quite airily, and finished with a shrug.]

I guess...

[The physical pain isn't there, sure, though mentally? Caesar's great at hiding the worst of what he's feeling, but this is starting to wear him down around the edges.]

You saw those? Huh. I thought Balin was just seeing things when he mentioned that the other day.

[Eyes her sourly.]

There are intelligent people here. But, please! It was people of Mayfield who blew up the resurrection machine--the one device that made this all endurable and even somewhat frivolous--with no idea what it was, because, well, better to blow things up.

Just *how* intelligent am I supposed to think they are, mademoiselle?

[Sighs, and wilts...]

My pardons. I am...

[He's nearly inside out over Ilsa, fearing for her life. And he's angry, and tired, and giving more and more thought to ways to break through and communicate with the Powers of Mayfield...]

Pardon. My temper betrays me.

I'm glad you have refuge, mademoiselle. If you need me, I am going to try to find Ilsa. Failing that I'll be at the church.

Du-te cu fulgere, doamnă.

"People of Mayfield" is hardly an all-inclusive category. It was likely a small selection of idiots that blew... whatever it was up.

[She turns away from him. Really, the way he's going on, he might as well be including her with the morons and fools.]

Do what you need to do. Go, go on. I have my own matters under control.

[have an absolutely furious babby bat right back at you then, Holland. he doesn't do the whole heroic scene; he doesn't even do the vaguely philanthropic scene. throwing his own safety away for even a fraction of a second to get his ass out of there had been a spur of the moment decision and one he already somewhat regrets on principle, and he really doesn't want to regret it more. not when he has other things to worry about.

so he reaches out again to grab Holland's free arm, and in another second it'll be held at a familiarly uncomfortable angle if Holland doesn't dodge. his threat is plain: keep being dumb and he'll break this arm a second time.]

I don't think you have a full understanding of exactly how much you're testing my patience right now. Your options aren't stay here or come with us. Your options are come with us or die where you stand. [this time he won't release the arm, but he'll be reaching in Ciel's direction with his free hand. he could pick his own way out if he was on his own, but if he has to drag a stubborn nation along too, he'd rather not take any chances.]

[He nods.]

Don't worry. I won't.

[He's a chivalrous fool. It's inbred and it's personal. He almost stomps off....but...]

Tcheh.

Do you wish for company?

[It's a gentle offer...]

Not particularly. It's in your best interest to keep your distance. I'm getting hungry.

[She shoots him a look from over her shoulder that's full of anger and hunger and a bit (just a bit) of regret.]

You'll do more good if you find other people. Go do some good.

[Not quite ready to leave--instead very dry, professional, and "doctory".]

Are you able to control your attack and break off? Do your victims always die? Do they always transform?

[Yes. He's weighing the odds. He's here, he's stuck regardless, and she's starving... He might gamble to save her life. Maybe.]

[Oh. The basic vampire interrogation. She turns around, rolling her eyes dramatically when she's finally facing him again.]

Yes, assuming I'm not starving, I can make myself stop. If I take enough blood, the obvious happens. If I leave them enough, they're fine. They do not transform.

[And like hell this guy is getting further elaboration on that last one.]

[He nods. He's learned what he needed to learn. Rather than speak, he nods again, and gently, gently opens his arms slightly, inviting her into his embrace. He meets her eyes.]

Hunger is not necessary,doamnă.

What I give, I give freely.

[she frowns deeply. Damn jiangshii. Perverse abominations of nature...though she couldn't blame Yoshika herself, it was another reason to hate Seiga.]

Oh, dear.

Hmm. If we ever get out of here in one piece, I shall take a look at your eye, alright? My healing magic is not strong, but if it's not completely gone, I might be able to heal it back to 50%.