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Ooooo, I LIKE! said Mariel happily, feeling her body s-t-r-e-t-c-h as Sean pulled her hand up to touch his head. Her fall-back fantasy images have just gotten a permanent mental boost. Lori, did you feel his horns yet?!? They're FABULOUS! Kind of warm, she adds with a smile.
So...I guess this means you're horn-ey all the time here in LaLaLand, huh, Sean? Mariel laughs and flirts, which seems odd coming from a girl who looks like she's *maybe* ten minutes away from having her water break.
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Sean laughs again "Yeah, I guess that's true. I guess some things never change, right?" Sean grins, and jostles Lori playfully "Know what I mean, babe?" he says to her.
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Arnold goes upstairs, up the functional but plain stairs and past bleak, undecorated walls, to the office he uses in the usual scheme of things. He finds nothing there at all, other than the room and its various fixtures. Yet, on some level, it still feels like his room.
Trying to start a fire by rubbing things together, Aesop finds that mostly these tings just crumble or break. It is as if the environment resists radical change. A few times, he gets things to smoulder, even burst into flame, and after enough tries he is able to stay near the flame long enough to try to direct it, but then he discovers that any change he attempts to cause to the environment and let go on its own simply... simply fails to take. If he sets something afire and steps away, it immediately goes out. It is as if the only changes he can exert on the environment result from his direct and continued action. Whether this is the result of some outside force, or simply the nature of this place, he isn't sure. He has vague memories of dream rituals and vision quests and walks through the world of spirits, but like so much else from his long existence, they are so jumbled and lost to torpor dreams that there isn't anything firm to grasp onto.
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Finding nothing, Arnold is somewhat disheartened. Here they were, creeping around nervously in nightclub empty of everything but oddities, flitting along the edges of their vision. They had, thus far, found nothing. "We aren't getting anywhere.." He says. He turns to the others "Does anyone have any ideas?"
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"I dont see anything, something is wrong, Arnold. Call it a hunch, but I have that feeling that something very bad is about to happen, but whether in here, or out there, I cannot tell." O-Yama says, sheathing his katana, knowing that if he needed it, it would be in his hands in a blink. He looks to Reeve Culler grimly.
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Arnold frowns "Try not to be so optimistic, O-Yama." he says. A joke - how rare.
"While we're up here we may as well do a sweep of the private rooms before we go back downstairs. Follow me." Arnold strikes off in that direction.
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Wilhelm fell into step behind Arnold, and slightly off to the side. No use in making the man nervous by standing precisely in his blind spot while holding a pair of swords.
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O-Yama smiles, daiben... this must be a dream reality is Arnold is making jokes. He walks with the man, looking around the desolate club, his soft glow dimming to near nothing.
"Well, you know me, optimism is one of my faults." He jokes.
Reeve Culler was right, there was nothing here and the expedition needed new ideas. Someone or something had brought them here, and right now the intent for having done so was unclear. The Doctor didn't like mysteries, and the blatant lack of anything to examine was not helping scratch the itch his curiosity was creating.
Ith follows the group as they enter the private rooms for examination. Optimism was a funny topic when trapped in a nightmare world beneath a blood moon. "A fault indeed, optimism often equates to arrogance. If you start out pessimistic, however, everything comes at a pleasant surprise..."
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The white disc vanishes, cuting the chains off. They fall to the ground. The corpes groans when a few links land atop him, but otherwise he makes no move. Prone on the pavement outside the Avalon.
Draft this Post
