welcome_rpg | welcome to mayfield: day 3

[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.]

[He'll read it, then look at her with some curiousity, almost as if to ask what happened to her.

But there's not really any time for that at the moment; he'll stand up and take a few steps as a test. ]

I should be okay if you're there for balance.

[It wasn't as if it were a long distance; now he'll talk to Charles.]

Charles, the hand on your shoulder is hers and she'll tell you where to go.

I'm aware. [but it's more weary-sounding than irritated now, like he's already tired of their attempts to make it out of the maze without looking like a band of morons even if they haven't even started moving yet.

...allow him to fix that, actually. yep blindbeard over here is just going to try leading the party someone tell him this is a bad idea.]

[she hasn't told anyone, Holland. He doesn't have good odds of getting an answer... but yes, if he insists on asking, that can still wait till later.

Nodding, she'll step up next to him - put his arm around her shoulder or something, that ought to be enough--

--and Charles...

Son you're not going anywhere!! The puppy legit needs a leash this time, so Ciel will be latching onto his shoulder and stopping him by exerting a small amount of force with digging her nails into him before he can walk headfirst into something. But it's just to pressure and yank him back; there's far from being enough strength to cause pain or discomfort.

She'll look back towards Holland. Ready when he is, and she'll start to steer Charles by giving a gentle push forward this time. Who cares how they look, as long as they get out of here okay. :|]

[He can hobble pretty pathetically, and he'll follow after them with the occasional gritting of his teeth as he makes his way through the glass. Every so often, Ciel will feel him hold her arm a little tighter, and only once they're out does he put much more of his weight on her shoulders, catching his breath.

After a moment though, he'll take one more breath and then sigh deeply. He'd definitely had worse, so much pain that it was all he could ever think about from one second to the next.

This wasn't that. The look he gives Ciel is a bit apologetic as he lets go of her.]

[he actually manages to pick his way through the maze pretty gracefully for being blind as a bat, though being honest it's mostly because of Ciel's patient guiding. even if his hearing is above-average, a glass-and-frame covered terrain isn't exactly easy to navigate. maybe next time he'll keep his mirror breaking escapades to a smaller area...

as soon as he feels the warmth of the sun outside, he moves to step away from her hand without so much as a word of thanks. it's not like he's really grateful for what she just did or anything!!]

Well that was a thoroughly fruitless endeavor. It's the first time I've seen anything outside of one of our own here, though. Hazmats again, hm? [his brow furrows, and while he's speaking he absently shifts his head skyward, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear his vision.]

[He may or may not notice that she's pretty flexible and mindful of his state. She'd try to adjust her pace whenever he seems to be in a pang of pain more severe than what he can take, staying vigilant whenever there's something she can do to make the walk a bit easier for him. Gonna continue keeping an eye out on Charles too, she's prone to give harder yanks sometimes and steer him aside when he's either going to step on too much glass or getting close to ramming his head into something... She has eyes of course so they definitely wouldn't get into any close shaves with sharp broken mirror fragments!! Not even straying close, we're not sustaining any more injuries than everyone's already got, okay.

Charles might actually even be able to tell the exit is coming close before he can feel the sun; Ciel's grip will slacken more than it ever has, and he'll break free effortlessly once they're completely out. It's fine, it's fine. She'd figure that he would want his own bubble back!

She's going to keep listening to him, but her focus is back on Holland. No Holland you're getting help sitting down on the floor before she lets go. On her knees now next to him, she's gonna write a note to him while Charles talks:

Please stretch out your leg the best you can, I should be able to do something for it.

She'll set down the bag she also carried around her neck after handing him the paper, taking out a first aid kit. It's complete with a pair of scissors, a bottle of disinfectant alcohol, cotton nubs, some bandage, and... a roll of red cloth? Either way, she definitely looks well-geared - for good reasons, as they're all coming to be useful now.]

Edited 2012-07-12 04:06 (UTC)

I really don't think you should touch it.

[He'll go so far as to simply slide away, and move his leg away slightly with a wince. He really wouldn't want any of whatever that thing had sprayed at him to get on her in any way.]

I think it would still hurt if it got on you.

[He won't resist if she insists, though.]

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