welcome_rpg | welcome to mayfield: day 3

[It's obvious, once the creature stops, that it is simply trying to get them to leave. If they left, they would be doing exactly what Mayfield wanted them to do, even after all this time.]

. . . no. . .

[Holland will take a few steps towards it; he didn't know what the gas would do, but he's still covering his mouth with his arm.]

I'm not going to leave, I'm going to get past it and see what's there.

[He'll look meaningfully at Charles. The other clearly had a choice to come with him or not, but he is one of the most stubborn nations in Europe.]

Edited 2012-07-05 13:41 (UTC)

[he sticks by the entrance they had created, hand over his mouth now as well, and stares in the direction Holland (or rather, the sound of his footsteps) goes. there's a mixture of agitation and exasperation in his voice when he speaks, muffled through his hand and through the fact that he's leaning away from the room now.]

There's likely nothing there, you moron! Don't get close to it, covering your mouth will only do you so much good. [he could bail now, and in all honesty he's only a few seconds away from doing so, but that much of a warning only seems fair.]

[The hazmat lets out a piercing shriek when Holland approaches it and starts spraying gas in his direction. This gas is different from the one leaking out of its body - it's much thicker and almost viscous. It coats whatever body part it touches, dissolving the flesh and bones instantly and solidifying into a fabric-like substance over the empty space, much like the hazmat creature itself.]

[He'll back up, alarmed, but then he's taking his bullets out of his coat, loading his gun with a few more and then shoving them into his trouser pocket. Holland is going to attempt to block the spray of gas with his coat, swinging at the hazmat with his coat to avoid the spray - much like one would attempt to hit someone else with a wet towel - and ultimately flinging it over the hazmat like a net. And then he's going to try shooting it more, ignoring, for now, the pain from some of the gas that got on his thigh. Right now, he's only fueled by anger. And he'll do it all without a word, relentlessly ruthless as he shoots the creature from almost a point-blank range.]

[in the split second it would take him to turn around and bulldoze his way back out of the maze, he instead stomps his foot in a childish display of irritation at being right and not being listened to. it isn't his job to collect stray idiots!

but hazmats invoke a pretty strong reaction in him at this point, and that's the extra push he needs to propel himself at superhuman speed into the room in the direction of the gunshots. hopefully Holland won't mind his personal bubble being invaded too much, because there's a hand on his arm one moment and it's quick to grab his collar the next, jerking him backward with a little more force than necessary. if they don't run into any hazmat hitches he'll be bailing out of there, backpedaling quickly until he hits a mirror.]

[The hazmat either doesn't want to or isn't able to leave the main area. Once Charles backs up enough, it'll go back to pacing the room.]

[Charles won't be hitting a mirror.

No, he'll be colliding head first against something decidedly not hard or cold. The opposite, actually. There's no 'thud' either; did he run into someone?

...Well, the soft squeeze on his shoulder might be the answer. Charles may not be able to see what's going on, but Holland should be able to catch clear sight of Ciel, robed, throwing two Black Keys onto the ground towards the direction that they just came from. Cracking faintly with power, a faint blue line is then drawn between the two swords nailed to the floor: a binding spell, just in case whatever that was back there decides to give chase once more.

Frowning with concern, she's then going to look down towards Charles and then at Holland. Sucks to not being able to say anything, though her eyes will quickly fall back down to Holland's leg, noticing the irregular injury and already scanning it for some way to heal this.]

[Now it was starting to hurt; it really really hurt, but he has had worse in his centuries of intermittent warfare. He'd died before. Her spell is confusing to him for the moment, and he'll turn and look at both Charles and Ciel, pulling against Charles' grip.]]

What are you doing? And who the hell are you, too?

[He's attempting to load his gun again.]

[he has no doubt that he knows who this person is before he even manages to catch a scent or hear anything outside of the erratic heartbeat nearest to him. who else could it be?

but he's quickly distracted from trying to communicate with Ciel by Holland, and he'll pull back that handful of shirt he has with harsh force. not enough to injure, but definitely enough to warn. the fabric is released after that though, and he brushes his hands off.]

I'm preventing you from dying shamefully, but I will kill you myself if you continue to do stupid things. Do you understand?

[Her eyes narrow. Not in annoyance, but in mild frustration. She may not know Holland, apart from seeing him around town a few times during both their stays, but she knows Charles. His words confirmed her suspicion, too: Holland almost got himself killed, and Charles is the one who pulled him back.

She's with him on that one. How to explain while she's mute however, that's gonna be the arduous part. The faint grimace on her face might tip Holland off. So...

Taking a few steps back, she'll gesture for them both to keep pulling away from... wherever they just came from. Her other hand's still on Charles' shoulder, not yanking forcefully but definitely urging him to keep retreating. Pull back. They don't seem to be getting followed, but it may still be best to make their way outside before taking the leisure to take a closer look at the injuries. She'll have time then to write out her words, too. So...

Hopefully Holland won't ask too many questions and be cooperative. The sooner they get out, the better.]

[Perhaps the reason they're having the disagreement is because of a simple question of being human or not human . . . then again, Charles was hardly human.

But Holland has been hurt before. He's fought before, he's died before, at least, his body has died. He has no reason whatsoever to believe that if he did die, even here in Mayfield, that he wouldn't be back. Whether by the town's power, or the simple fact alone that he was not a human being, he would be back. He was a nation. It was impossible to really destroy him, even if Mayfield had taken his nation body from him, somehow.

At least, that's what he believes. Despite the pain in his leg being breath-taking, he'll take one last step towards the hazmat, pointing his gun at it in an angry gesture while he almost lectures the other two.]

I don't care what you'll do; there is no reason for me to leave yet! It doesn't want us to go past it, so that's where I have to go!

[He's actually looking angry; incredibly angry, not just sullen or irritated.]

I'm never doing anything this town wants me to again, and I'll use my own hands to tear it apart.

[And just because, he'll take aim and shoot the hazmat again, and again.]

--and then I'll do it again.

[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.]

...

[She lets Charles hang onto her. She doesn't know what got Holland riled up so much, but stepping away from suicidal situations is different from 'doing what the town wants us to do'. She might be missing some pieces, but from a surface look, it seems like he's angry and wants to go after the hazmat just to be contrary. In that case...

She stands there, blankly watching Holland empty his gun into the emptiness at the end of the hallway; he'll run out of bullets eventually. But while she's patient and can wait for him to cool off, Charles isn't. Charles is in a very, very bad mood like she hasn't seen him put on in ages, in fact. Threatening to break someone's arm, sheesh babby bat, falling into bad habits again!! ...Though while she could probably heal it, let's not have that happen if we can help it anyway.

Under the blink of an eye, there's a small orb of light summoned above their heads, drawing out their long shadows inside the dimness of the funhouse. Not a split second later, there's another Black Key behind Holland now - piercing his shadow in particular, so that he won't be able to move even if he was let go. And finally, she rests one hand on Charles' wrist - the one that currently has Holland's arm in a deathgrip. In contrast to his, hers is is gentle, giving barely a squeeze - but not any less firm. ...She can't tell him anything, so hopefully, the action may be able to convey what the words cannot. As for the other man...

She'll come to it. It's just more personal with Charles, in a way.]

[He knew he couldn't really win against Charles; what he's not entirely sure about is why the other isn't letting him go. So what if he didn't beat that thing and get past it? At least he'd tried.]

What if-- there could be something there--

[He'll stop moving as much when that familiar twist to his arm twinges painfully, feeling the pressure and the creaking in his shoulder -- he's still furious as he warns Charles between grit teeth.]

Don't.

[But that's the first time he's looked at Charles closely, and only now does he realize the other isn't doing so good. He'll look at the other's eyes and the way he's feeling for Ciel with his hand, then most of his anger promptly leaves his face, and he won't struggle anymore. There's a slight frown when he realizes he can't move his feet, and he'll look to Ciel with a sigh.]

. . . Fine. Let's leave already.

[there's deep suspicion in his expression at that, but he trusts that Ciel, at the very least, has a better grip on the situation than he does. with both the gentle hand on his wrist and Holland's reluctant concession, he hesitates before quietly releasing his grip with a scowl. no broken arms today, it's a miracle!]

Don't try anything moronic. I know the urge might be strong, but I trust you'll be able to resist it for a few moments. [he'll take a few steps away from Holland after that to free up Ciel's access to him, pulling his hand from her to cross his arms over his chest.]

[no broken arms today, gold star for charles!!

...

The tension's dissipating at least, and that's good. Stepping aside also, she'll have one hand resting on the hilt of the key that held down Holland's shadow. After one concerned glance towards Charles, her eyes fall back on Holland's face. She's wearing a questioning frown, the message clear without any words needing to be said: is he truly calm now? Can she really free him, and he'll step back and leave this place with them out of his own free will? ...Granted, there's an edge of a warning in her expression too; she will use force to stop him again, on the off-chance that he does opt for doing something dumb despite all the warnings that he's already received. Either way...

She's ready to let him go now, if he's recovered enough of his senses to understand the situation in full.]

There's nothing moronic about it.

[While petulant, his tone definitely lacks the anger he had before; it was pretty much standard conversation with Charles, after all. Her hesitancy is understood and justified, but he's really not going to be going after the hazmat anymore.

. . . he might be a little concerned about Charles. Maybe.

He hadn't realized what exactly the gas had done; he won't until he tries to drink the water and can't taste it. His leg, however, was concerning; he couldn't really use it well, but he can definitely leave.]

[the concern isn't readily apparent to him, but the fact that things have more or less simmered to a "normal" level of conversation for them indicates to him that he doesn't have much to worry about now.]

Everything you just did was the definition of moronic, you massive, festering moron. [but his tone is lacking most of the direct threat now, back to being an above-average level of snappish. he'll move in the general direction of the mirrors they had busted through, subtly passing the back of his hand over his eyes once he's turned away from the other two. he's never encountered this kind of hazmat before, and can't even begin determining what other potential side effects there might be or how long the ones showing may last.]

[Giving a faint sigh that may be audible if the room was quiet, Ciel swipes away the Key into nothing with one quick movement of her hand: Holland can move again. She'll let the small orb hang though, they can use the light source.

She's also watched long enough to be able to tell that things between these two are back to usual, especially Charles. He's being rude, but Charles is generally rude and that's okay. Seems like Holland knows too and is used to it, that does actually make things somewhat more convenient...

But now there's two problems. Holland's leg, and Charles' pace. She's seen him more than enough times to know how he usually walks and carries himself, and just now? She doesn't catch him passing his hand over his eyes, but she does notice the lack of purpose and steadiness despite the fact that to most others, he'd just be sauntering over there normally.

Quickly glancing back at Holland, she'll get on hastily writing two notes on different pages. It'll take just a few seconds before she shoves the country with a slip reading the following:

Please wait.

She's then stepping up to catch up with the Chiropteran, and Charles will then feel a hand on his shoulder again. The grip still gentle but firm like the previous time: a quiet request for him to stop. She's got a note for him once he turns around.]

Edited (fixes structure...) 2012-07-11 05:20 (UTC)

You're not going to get very far.

[This was to Charles; he'll do what Ciel asks without any complaint; however, he will lean against one of the broken mirrors to avoid putting weight on his leg. It steadily hurt, and was definitely worse than he imagined now that he's able to look at it.]

I'm not the one who managed to get burnt. [he doesn't know if it was fire or acid or something else entire but wow, did it ever smell like ruined flesh. his tone is rather disdainful and he lifts his chin in a small display of haughty arrogance. yep, even now...

but he'll be stopping as soon as he feels Ciel's hand on his shoulder, turning his face from Holland to her. he can hear the faint crinkle of paper, and his nose wrinkles.]

This is going to prove itself problematic quickly.

[She halts her movement at Charles' words.

...'Problematic'?

She already reasoned out the various possibilities that may cause such a change in his demeanor. She didn't jump to any conclusions because she didn't want to assume, but with the sound of this...

She turns around towards Holland. Holding back the folded note in her palm, she'll gingerly rest her outstretched index and middle finger on Charles' temple. Not going to touch his eyes, obviously, but the proximity should be enough to convey the gesture's question. 'Is there something wrong with his sight'? Because if so, that would indeed be among the most difficult outcomes they could find themselves in, in which case...

As long as Charles sticks with them. She's going to take a closer look at Holland's wound right after Charles gives an answer to her wordless inquiry; no use lingering on something she's powerless against. Holland's wound might be caused by the town, but trying to heal it may still be worth a shot.]

It's not. . . it's not exactly burnt, I don't think. . .

[He really didn't know; it felt like something was digging into his leg, though that sensation had largely stopped once he held still; there's a reddish, brownish splotch over his thigh, pretty much looking as though someone had spilled something on it; the brown is about the color of his trousers, though darker as the fabric fused to his skin, and he definitely has not wanted to touch it to see what it feels like. Even the smallest movements felt like someone was digging a knife into his thigh. He'll warn Ciel.]

I don't think you should touch it. We should get outside.

Edited 2012-07-12 00:05 (UTC)

[even if the touch is gentle, his irritation is enough to have him brushing her hand away instantly. the message is conveyed, though. he seems somewhat reluctant to admit it (showing weakness is showing weakness after all), but like there's any way he could hide this from Ciel for an extended period of time. he wouldn't even be able to manage that if she didn't have to use correspondence he can no longer read.] I believe some of the gas got into my eyes. [and rather than say anything further, he simply passes his hands in front of his eyes without blinking to indicate just how poor (or nonexistent) his vision currently is.

and then, in Holland's direction:] Getting outside would be in our best interest, yes. [this said in a very 'it's not like I've been suggesting that this whole time or anything!!' tone...]

Edited 2012-07-12 00:35 (UTC)

[Ah, so that's it.

She doesn't insist on keeping hold of Charles, but if they were both quiet, they might hear her make a small sound of frustration from her throat. Letting go of Charles, she'll open the note that was originally addressed to Charles, flip the paper to the other side where the page is still blank, and get writing after giving Holland a sharp and cautionary gaze. The next note is for him, so he better wait up:

I can't speak and Charles can no longer see. I apologize for the inconvenience, but you will have to help us communicate. You're not well enough to walk on your own; please hold onto my shoulder for support until we get out. Tell Charles that I'll keep my other hand on his shoulder to direct him. I'll treat your wound once we exit this place. Is that acceptable?

If it reads like an order? That's because it sorta is one, yes, even if it's politely worded and there's that question at the end... She's giving him a very sober stare. He might've never met or got to know her well before, but that look is definitely one of someone who knows perfectly what they're doing.]

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