ataraxionlogs | EVENT; LIFTS & CORRIDORS

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EVENT; LIFTS & CORRIDORS

CHARACTERS: Ensemble production!
LOCATION: The Corridors.
WARNINGS: Space crazy, violence, etc.
SUMMARY: You may have simply been taking the lift with passerbys, but now you're hopelessly lost.
NOTES: Notes on the corridors.

Those on their way to meet a friend at dinner, or heading to their department, may never reach their intended destination. Instead, characters will find themselves in an unfamiliar part of the ship, abruptly stranded. All attempts to access the elevator will prove fruitless, as the doors cannot be pried open and the lift will not respond when called. It looks like you have no where to go but forward. Hallways will connect only to other hallways, giving you the impression that you're always on your way somewhere- but can't quite manage to arrive.

Time spent in the hallways will seem endless, but with luck you may find a break in the monotony. It is possible for characters to find one another, which would be preferable, as it's probably safer traveling in groups. Those that spend an excessive amount of time in their own company will find themselves feeling increasingly hostile and paranoid, until even the walls seem to be watching. That may not be such an exaggeration, with those murals that continually appear...

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[Edgeworth has been training long enough that he's started to take pride in his strength. That's what causes him to bristle, to turn towards Hal with a frown; that's what causes him to be moments away from a tart correction - But he remembers himself at the last moment, remembers the power he still wants to keep secret, because it's a power that will be useful only if it can take people by surprise.

Even so. Not quite the foes. Hmph.]

I had help.

[That's said tartly, and then he gains control of his temper again. Nothing had been meant by the comment, truly - he's sure - and so he simply shakes his head.]

We experiment systematically. Mark one hallway, traverse a few, see if we ever come back to the original one.

[And then, to Deb:]

And no blood. I have a few tissue; we can shred them and leave pieces behind.

[ She's not sure what to make of the tension between the two men - some kind of pissing contest about who was more badass? Whatever. Edgeworth she trusts. Hal she doesn't. That's most of what she needs to know about their interactions.]

Good idea. [ She picks a direction, more or less based on not going towards the turkey, and begins walking. ]

So these things. They were...mutated in a lab, or some fuckery, and now they're killer monsters. Have I got that right? Can you describe how they attacked you? Did they have...claws, teeth, what?

( ooc: excuse u )

[ Hal actually rolls his eyes, because that's what mature 500 year-old men do, but he doesn't argue otherwise. He still thinks the plan is ridiculous, but he hasn't got any others to offer - and he finds both Edgeworth and Deb interesting enough, so he's alright with following.

Or maybe he isn't, because finding them interesting isn't necessarily a good thing. He starts to follow, stops in his tracks; the small shred of awareness is still there, trying to scratch its way to the surface and keep him from doing something monumentally stupid. Not that appearing wildly inconsistent is particularly smart, but hey, better than remaining in quiet hallways with humans while he's acting like a nutjob. ]

While I have the utmost faith in your scheme and your abilities, I think I'll leave you to it. I have no interest in playing Hansel and Gretel.

Claws and teeth.

[He says that shortly to Deb, frowning.]

They're eyeless, for whatever reason, so they cannot see. However, their other senses are quite keen. They're intelligent; they ambushed us back then, and...

[Edgeworth turns when Hal speaks, turning with his brows furrowed. It's a strange change from a moment before; is he going to stay with them, or isn't he?]

If this plan fails, you can suggest your own. The creatures tend to spring their ambushes when people are alone. Do you really want to endanger yourself?

[ She doesn't know whether to try to persuade him to stay or just let him go. ] Hansel and Gretel got out of the woods at the end. [ Admittedly not because of the trail of breadcrumbs, but still. ] People who wander off alone around here get killed or go crazy. And that's under normal conditions.

For the love of - [ He stops himself and closes his eyes, a very conscious effort to calm himself. It doesn't work very well, considering how distressed he sounds when he continues - and the fact that his eyes flicker a solid black for a second when they open again, though it's difficult to see in the dim lighting. ]

At the risk of repeating myself, I need to leave. If I do not, then you will have more monsters than just your hellbeasts to contend with.

[ Last ditch effort. He's not above just booking it without further commentary, but he's trying to be polite about this. ]

Sir, we know you're a vampire.

[Edgeworth stops altogether and looks at Hal, a frown crossing his face.]

If you're having some sort of crisis, allow us to help you resolve it. Strong or not, you're not going to be able to fight off the creatures if you're in a hunger coma.

That's what you're referring to, correct? Yourself?

...Fuck. Wait. Okay, you're a hungry vampire and you aren't sure if you can stop from going on some kind of bloody rampage if you're around humans, so you're telling us - you've been telling Edgeworth - to get the fuck out while you've still got all your marbles?

[ Debra puts her hand lightly on Edgeworth's arm, while putting a mental option on getting him in a chokehold and dragging him away if need be. ]

Have I got that right?

[ There's quite a lot Hal could say, mostly to Edgeworth, but Deb speaks up before he gets a chance. And while her summary of the situation leaves something to be desired in sheer eloquence, he can't deny its accuracy.

But he doesn't confirm it, at least not in so many words; instead, there's a pause while he takes stock of the thirst, the way it's difficult to focus on what they're both saying instead of the thrum of their pulses. When he speaks, his voice is very carefully and very deliberately calm. ]

I may have overestimated my ability to - [ Move without caving, giving in to the cravings and attacking instead of leaving. But that's awfully detailed, so he goes with something slightly less insane. ]

It would be in your best interests to go. [ Not quite urgent enough. ] Now.

[Edgeworth, though, frowns at him in sheer determination - ever earnest, ever sacrificing common sense to his ideals. Deb makes it sound bad, yes, but Edgeworth knows vampires - knows Jenna - and in her name and out of his own sense of decency and honor, he's never going to simply abandon someone in need. Not a human and not a vampire.]

To go and leave you behind to be torn to pieces by those creatures when you're helpless from a lack of blood.

[He shakes his head, a frown etched deeply on his face.]

Unlikely, sir.

[ There's a short laugh as soon as Edgeworth's done, and Hal flashes a broad, abrupt smile - all teeth, though none particularly sharp (yet). ]

Helpless?

[ He blinks, and when his eyes open again there's nothing - solid black, all the way through. If that weren't enough of a signal that his resolve's officially crumbled, the fact that he moves towards Edgeworth probably hammers it home. His voice has taken a dramatic shift, as well; previously edged with the tension of restraint and desperation, now it's marked with the contradictory nonchalance of madness, a thin mask for the streak of violence beneath it. ]

I could go a hundred years without blood and still tear you limb from limb without breaking a sweat.

[ Edgeworth you fucking idiot.

Deb's heartrate skyrockets because, Jesus fucking Christ, his eyes just went black, and as much as Debra has been on a spaceship for months now this is a new level of freakishness. But her instincts are to protect the innocent, and much as she wants in this moment to smack Edgeworth upside the head, those instincts go right down to the bone. So, from standing a foot or so behind and to the right of Edgeworth, she grabs him by the back of his lapel and yanks him back with her left hand so she can step in front, in between the two of them. ]

Great point. [ Her voice is steady, and her gun has been brought up to her shoulder with her finger likewise steady on the trigger. Who the fuck knows if bullets work on vampires or if it has to be a stake made of blessed mistletoe harvested by a virgin in the dark of the moon or whatever the fuck. But a UMP can fire 6.5 bullets per second, and at a range of a few feet away it should take someone's head right off. She's pretty sure that unless Hal is made of diamonds or something that should at least slow him down. ] Good luck with not doing that.

We'll just be leaving. Now.

[And there's an instinctual fear in response to that. The black of his eyes is terrifying, and his manner, and the way he moves forward. Edgeworth is not proud of being afraid - will later feel, in point of fact, rather ashamed and prejudiced for that fear - but fear is there, and when Hal speaks (sounding nearly cheerful, nearly casual) Edgeworth moves back, a jolt of adrenaline shooting down his spine, his own heart beating faster.

But when Deb steps forth, he tries to react at once - because he wants to protect Hal from those bullets, wants to protect Deb from being in the way in case desperation drives Hal to an extreme - ]

Don't - Lower your weapon, Officer Morgan -

[ He could get around it. He could move fast enough, maybe, before she even got the chance to pull the trigger. If not, he'd certainly survive bullet wounds, though it would be a much longer and messier process than Deb might be imagining.

But instead he stops, hands raising smoothly as though he's under arrest, a theatrical show of looking less intimidating. The black eyes are gone in a blink, too, and yet there's no pretending he's back to the frightened, hesitant demeanor of before. Still, he even goes so far as to take a step back; as he does, one hand moves to press a finger to his lips, signalling a quiet 'shh' to hush Edgeworth's interference. ]

Keep your weapon where it is, Lady Morgan. It's been a pleasure to meet you; I'd hate to cut our acquaintance so short.

[ The words aren't entirely different from his other warnings, but the body language and voice twist them into something new - not a warning, but a promise. If she does lower her guard, give him an opening, he's hardly going to waste it - but the truth is, he'd rather not. He finds them both interesting enough, and he wouldn't actually mind avoiding a bloodbath that involved a quantity of his own. ]

[ You'd better believe she's not going to lower her guard. If anything her finger tightens slightly on the gun, and one foot shifts her into shooting stance, a more stable position which also has the advantange of putting her slightly more in front of Edgeworth. ]

Lieutenant Morgan.

[ Debra got that rank after flinging herself at a man with a gun who was trying to take out an entire restaurant of civilians, and taking him down without any of them being hurt. She may not have any idea what a vampire can do, but like hell is she going to give him any opening to let him attack her friend. Even if her friend is being a doofus.

Her eyes have gone hard and flat. Do you feel lucky, punk? ]

And yeah, let's all fucking exchange phone numbers and get together later for coffee. But right now we're going to say goodbye.

But we can't -

[Edgeworth's voice sounds truly distressed. He doesn't sound at all like the pompous, windy prosecutor; he sounds like nothing more than a young man who's miserable and worried and unhappy, even though it's for someone he hardly even knows. But he can't get around Deb, not with her in that stance; all he can do is grip her shoulder and plead - ]

We have to work with him, Lieutenant. We can't - if he goes off by himself, they'll attack; it's how they always work. We cannot leave him to die -

Yeah, if I've gotten anything from this conversation, Edgeworth, [ voice clipped and precise, eyes and gun still focused steadily on Hal ] it's that in that scenario? We should be worrying about the health and wellbeing of the hellbeasts.

[ Hal stays where he is, smile broad and amused, and now the fangs are clearly visible. His hand moves again slowly, a casual gesture to tap at the side of his head in emphasis of his next comment. ]

You should listen to the Lieutenant. She has a very clever - and beautiful, if I may be so bold - head on her shoulders.

[ Then both arms open wide on either side, more theatrics to display his lack of concern. ]

The only thing I'm in danger of is making a mess of my poor clothes. [ A pause, then he remembers the blood already staining the dark fabric and adds: ] More of one, in any case.

[Edgeworth's brows draw closer together, though, and his mouth thins unhappily. But what can he do? He can't force Hal to come with them; he can't force Deb to allow it. After a moment, he just steps back, lowers his hand and his eyes, and bitterly and miserably and finally surrenders to leaving Hal to his death.]

[ Man, bad guys threatening her always have to go for the creepy flirting, huh. Hal's little compliment is miles less uncouth than most of the comments Deb's heard about her appearance and/or what the guy will do to her given the chance, but it's no less unsettling though her only reaction is a faint downturn in her mouth.

Deb's not happy about the waves of unhappiness now coming off Edgeworth, but on the other hand she's not in the habit of being made to feel guilty or regretful about doing her best to save someone's life just because they make sad puppy eyes at her. (Fuck knows Dexter has tried often enough.) It's mostly frustration and continued alarm she's feeling, but Edgeworth's obvious distress does at least temper what was going to be "Have a nice fucking life" into ]

Best of luck.

[ She doesn't lower her weapon or her eyes, let alone turn her back on Hal, but she takes a couple of steps back.]

[ Now they've got it. The fear and aggression, Edgeworth's reluctant misery; it's not blood, but it's the next best thing, and it's hilarious to watch.

He watches quietly as Edgeworth gives up, as they both move back a step. Then he clicks his tongue as if he's kicking a horse, smile stark against the blood still streaked over his face. ]

I suggest you hurry.

[Edgeworth, though, lifts his head, and there's something almost defiant in the kindness of his parting words:]

Be careful, and stay unharmed. And if we find a way out, we'll come search for you.

[And, finally, he turns and goes.]

[ Debra has none of Edgeworth's quixotic graciousness or courage in turning his back on a threat. She can tell - or thinks she can tell - when she's being mocked, when her vulnerability or that of others is being used for some sick bastard's amusement, and there's nothing she hates more. If she were alone, if she were a few years younger and less experienced, Deb might not have been able to rein in her impulse to stomp back and get in Hal's face, or at least to fire some parting conversational shot.

But she isn't either of those things, so there's only something kindling in her eyes, and a slight, unpleasant smile touching her lips. She paces backwards, light on her feet and her gaze unwavering till she's around the bend in the corridor and the line of sight is broken. ]

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EVENT; LIFTS & CORRIDORS

will he be reciting chaucer and NO IT IS SO GOOD corner the shit out of him

gregorian chants? lute music?

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