[Wouldn't be the first time he's woken up in a strange room with no memory of getting there? Also wouldn't be the first time he's lived with the strange sensation of being watched.
As you always do, first thing is check the bedside tables for any good shit.]
[what the fuck is a bible just seems like a boring ass book anyway just taking all of those things why not, the coat pockets are large for holding things. If he flips through the bible, anything in there? Just horrible words about the jeebus man (he cannot read)?
though mildly worrying that the rest of his shit isn't there. cool cool. no problem. uh. well. onto the rest of the looting - wardrobe, dresser, checking in the mirror if everything is normal. correct amount of eyes and all.
[molly you can't read. except for how you can, this one time. the words in the bible rearrange themselves when he opens it - it reads you're next in bright red letters, and he instinctively understands it.
nothing under the bed!
nothing else in any of the parts of the room, but when he looks in the mirror, he sees - a smiling version of himself. there's something sinister, in that smile - his tattoos glow brightly.]
[He'll take one last look around for anything obvious laying about on any surfaces (NOT looking in that mirror again). Like. A sword? Any sword? Sword? But if there isn't anything available for grabsies then he's outtie 5000.]
except there are only three other doors (labeled 201, 202, 203) that he can see from where he's standing. there's also an elevator at the end of the hallway. below him, he hears a very disgruntled voice say robots.]
it's a hotel room! except it's a mess. the bed is shoved to the corner, the wardrobe is broken into pieces, and the mirror is shattered across the floor. the lights in the room flicker terribly as a tall woman with an enormous greatsword stands poised to stab her weapon down, aiming for the heart of another woman, unconscious and bleeding.]
There's a moment where he knows this is just another fucking terrible illusion and is tempted to just slam the door shut again, but,]
Hells -- Yasha!
[His hand twitches with a familiar motion, like he's going to try invoking the Maledict, slam her vision into darkness - do anything - before he remembers that there's no magic here. Cursing again and just running inside.]
yasha looks up, hesitating just for one moment. tears drip down her cheeks, but she's smiling like she's being forced, like something has taken control of her facial muscles. there's a desperation in her eyes, a please - and then she looks down back at the woman below her and jabs her greatsword into her chest with a quick, awful shink.
beauregard doesn't make a sound. just goes slack.
the lights flicker in and out, and plunge the room into darkness.]
Maybe don't antagonize whatever's on the other side of the door! But he does try and sneak backwards a bit to look into that wardrobe and dresser and see if there's anything useful.
[there's like, a garbled noise on the other side of the door, and then silence.
there is... a fireax! in the wardrobe! why is that there. in the dresser he finds a bright pink and blue jacket with an A on the back of it.
he doesn't look at the bloodstain, which is fine, but behind him, he can hear a sort of... gasping sound. almost gurgling. like something trying to breathe, wetly.]
[So glad that yelling at the door totally worked! Totally worked.
Just. Gathering the things, palms sweaty, arms spaghetti, he'll shove the jacket into his belt and just. grip the axe. it's not a sword, but it's got a blade and can hit things! Good enough.
Whipping around.]
I thought I said to o̴̬̽f̸̡̬̖͓̫̤̬͔͌̆t̶̢̲͙͙̙̟̎͐c̵̮͎̋́ ̷͍̤͝ą̴̠͚͍̣͐̐ơ̴̮̒̿̓͑̍̽̚o̴̞̓̏̈́̈́,̷̨̥̥̭̜̯̺̑̍̃͗̈́̉̆ ̸̞̠͍̱͙͖͓̟͛̎̕͝͝v̴͖̓̌̿̉͂̋̓̅ù̴̫̻̀̑̀̍͂͋́t̸̩̙̍̏̎c̴̛̛͚͎̼̲̱̩͚̐̈̏̊̋ ̴̖̫̗̯̅̾́̀͝ķ̵͈͕̳̓̋̉į̵̺̤͇̙̣̓q̸̦̤̤̟͎͙̓̑̾̽̀͘!̴͓̩͚͎̫̯͚̻̉̈
right into beau's face. she staggers, eyes wide, chest heaving, bleeding, the hole there a gory mess. blood drips down the side of her mouth. she reaches for him, fingers dragging uselessly down his coat she drops to her knees, and then to the floor entirely.]
[SHOULD HAVE JUST SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR, MOLLYMAUK
this is an illusion, this is an illusion, this is an illusion, he watched her die already, once, and she isn't here. he thinks for a second about how he'd almost begged Greed to tell him that watching her die the first time had been an illusion. Evidence?
he's definitely just cursing more of that hissing infernal at himself mostly now and immediately drops the axe to grab for her. it's not like he can do anything? why couldn't he just have found a gun instead.]
[he can't do anything - she's heavy weight, if he tries to hold onto her. she's not breathing anymore, at least, so he doesn't have to hear the wet, gurgling sounds of someone who has a hole in their lungs. but that just leaves him alone with a body, in a pristine hotel room.
her eyes closed, at the end. she couldn't help it. maybe it's better that way.]
she is heavy and his strength score is not high, so he'll just sink to the ground with that corpse, sitting there with it on his lap. he needs a second. brushing the hair out of her face before he sets her down. she's not here. she's just somewhere else right now, in another room.]
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[Wouldn't be the first time he's woken up in a strange room with no memory of getting there? Also wouldn't be the first time he's lived with the strange sensation of being watched.
As you always do, first thing is check the bedside tables for any good shit.]
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the bedside tables are full of your typicals. a bible, some notepads, some acid in a vial, a pencil.]
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though mildly worrying that the rest of his shit isn't there. cool cool. no problem. uh. well. onto the rest of the looting - wardrobe, dresser, checking in the mirror if everything is normal. correct amount of eyes and all.
...looking under the bed.]
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nothing under the bed!
nothing else in any of the parts of the room, but when he looks in the mirror, he sees - a smiling version of himself. there's something sinister, in that smile - his tattoos glow brightly.]
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hm! putting a hand over the one on his neck.]
... Right! Time to go, then.
[well, nevermind, the bible is not being taken. the bible may stay here. One quick peek under the covers on the bed before going for the door.]
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there's nothing under the covers, but the door is open! does he go out?]
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anyway, there is a hallway!
except there are only three other doors (labeled 201, 202, 203) that he can see from where he's standing. there's also an elevator at the end of the hallway. below him, he hears a very disgruntled voice say robots.]
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[what are the other three doors labeled? whos to say.
Sure, he'll try one of the others. Whatever was right next to his own.]
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it's a hotel room! except it's a mess. the bed is shoved to the corner, the wardrobe is broken into pieces, and the mirror is shattered across the floor. the lights in the room flicker terribly as a tall woman with an enormous greatsword stands poised to stab her weapon down, aiming for the heart of another woman, unconscious and bleeding.]
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There's a moment where he knows this is just another fucking terrible illusion and is tempted to just slam the door shut again, but,]
Hells -- Yasha!
[His hand twitches with a familiar motion, like he's going to try invoking the Maledict, slam her vision into darkness - do anything - before he remembers that there's no magic here. Cursing again and just running inside.]
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yasha looks up, hesitating just for one moment. tears drip down her cheeks, but she's smiling like she's being forced, like something has taken control of her facial muscles. there's a desperation in her eyes, a please - and then she looks down back at the woman below her and jabs her greatsword into her chest with a quick, awful shink.
beauregard doesn't make a sound. just goes slack.
the lights flicker in and out, and plunge the room into darkness.]
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So that's twice he's seen Beauregard die.
Just. Trying to back up enough to feel the door again, reaching out for it and waiting for his eyes to hopefully adjust.]
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he can open the door to the hallway again. there's something rattling from the doorknob, though.]
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[h
hm.
Maybe don't antagonize whatever's on the other side of the door! But he does try and sneak backwards a bit to look into that wardrobe and dresser and see if there's anything useful.
He does not look at the bloodstain. He does not!]
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there is... a fireax! in the wardrobe! why is that there. in the dresser he finds a bright pink and blue jacket with an A on the back of it.
he doesn't look at the bloodstain, which is fine, but behind him, he can hear a sort of... gasping sound. almost gurgling. like something trying to breathe, wetly.]
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Just. Gathering the things, palms sweaty, arms spaghetti, he'll shove the jacket into his belt and just. grip the axe. it's not a sword, but it's got a blade and can hit things! Good enough.
Whipping around.]
I thought I said to o̴̬̽f̸̡̬̖͓̫̤̬͔͌̆t̶̢̲͙͙̙̟̎͐c̵̮͎̋́ ̷͍̤͝ą̴̠͚͍̣͐̐ơ̴̮̒̿̓͑̍̽̚o̴̞̓̏̈́̈́,̷̨̥̥̭̜̯̺̑̍̃͗̈́̉̆ ̸̞̠͍̱͙͖͓̟͛̎̕͝͝v̴͖̓̌̿̉͂̋̓̅ù̴̫̻̀̑̀̍͂͋́t̸̩̙̍̏̎c̴̛̛͚͎̼̲̱̩͚̐̈̏̊̋ ̴̖̫̗̯̅̾́̀͝ķ̵͈͕̳̓̋̉į̵̺̤͇̙̣̓q̸̦̤̤̟͎͙̓̑̾̽̀͘!̴͓̩͚͎̫̯͚̻̉̈
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right into beau's face. she staggers, eyes wide, chest heaving, bleeding, the hole there a gory mess. blood drips down the side of her mouth. she reaches for him, fingers dragging uselessly down his coat she drops to her knees, and then to the floor entirely.]
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this is an illusion, this is an illusion, this is an illusion, he watched her die already, once, and she isn't here. he thinks for a second about how he'd almost begged Greed to tell him that watching her die the first time had been an illusion. Evidence?
he's definitely just cursing more of that hissing infernal at himself mostly now and immediately drops the axe to grab for her. it's not like he can do anything? why couldn't he just have found a gun instead.]
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her eyes closed, at the end. she couldn't help it. maybe it's better that way.]
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she is heavy and his strength score is not high, so he'll just sink to the ground with that corpse, sitting there with it on his lap. he needs a second. brushing the hair out of her face before he sets her down. she's not here. she's just somewhere else right now, in another room.]
Get it fucking together, Mollymauk.
[Alright. grabbing up his axe now. getting up.]
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there's a laugh that sounds like hers, a rough, gritty chuckle, and then silence.
where do you go next, mollymauk?]
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... 201 then.]
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but 201 is open. it's a cold landscape, with a familiar coat fluttering in the wind at the end of the cliff.]
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Or, rather. He doesn't, exactly? The landscape jags a familiar shape through his memory, the tinge of snow, a road, but-- not this exact tableau.
Of course, he knows the coat.
He doesn't step in though, quite yet, because. Well. He recognizes that name that's being screamed. And the voice?]
Grace? GRACE!
[Just's just try shouting? Standing here with this door open. Looking at his own fucking grave.]
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