[sylvain walks towards the window! and as he does, the window gets a little easier to see through. there's... someone standing outside of it? they're watching him, whoever it is.
... to his right is another expanse of hallway, but it's far too dark to see what's on the end of it.
estelle glances at the paintings as she walks. it's weird - they're just black scribbles. like someone took a black crayon, and went wild on a white piece of paper until it was mostly covered. does she want to try and look closer at these paintings?
diluc, on the other hand, walks down to go check out what's on the little desk thing. to his left, the console is more like a cabinet that's set in the wall. there are burn marks all over it - they look vaguely like the shape of hands, like someone burned the imprint into the wood. a thick layer of dust sits on the top of the desk, as well as on top of the old-timey phone there. and as he gets close, it immediately starts to ring.]
[ he's distracted by whomever it is that's watching them to pay attention to what estelle is doing (otherwise he'd dissuade her because... paintings... are bad!), but the sudden ring does startle him. ]
[Paintings are bad, and -- again, against her better judgment -- Estelle studies one to see if she can make out whether there was anything under those scribbles. She gives a start when the phone rings, however.]
[there's just the slightest flash of blue and gold against the window. and then the person is gone.
estelle looks closer at the paintings, and... nothing happens? there's like. briefly, there's a little bit of red in the painting, but when she tries to focus on it, she can't quite tell what it is. anxiety curls in her chest, though. she can't quite breathe.
... something else, can, though. right against the back of her neck.
meanwhile, diluc picks up the phone! there's the sound of running, someone panting, gasping for breath. a shriek - sudden, and even more sudden, a sickening thud of an impact. a little whimper, and then footsteps... there's the sound of something huge and slimy writhing. a wheeze. and then a horrible, mangled gurgle. he hears - his name, desperately, someone familiar calling out for him to help, please help. diluc, help me!
and then it splutters to a stop and the line goes dead.]
[Estelle flinches, her hand flying to cover her neck as she whirls around to see if anything's there. As she does, she takes a step back -- towards Sylvain.
She shakes her head -- she can't explain what's bothering her.
[ diluc tunes out everything else around him, momentarily forgetting where he is, only focus on this phone call. his face going from shock and surprise, to fear, and then anger.
he slams the phone back down onto the receiver. ]
We should.
[ he shakes his head at sylvain's question. then once he comes back to reality, he looks over at estelle, concern replacing the anger on his face. ]
[there's nothing there, when estelle looks. sylvain doesn't see anything either. but estelle can breathe, if she takes a second to try. she feels like she's being watched - and the reason might be apparent why when she glances at the paintings again.
a sticky, wet, red substance has started to drip from each painting, from the wall behind them. the smell of iron fills the air, and the bleeding - because that's all it can really be, right? - almost stutters, like a horrible heartbeat, splattering down the wall disjointedly.
worst of all, though, are the eyes watching all three of them from each painting.
diluc slams the phone down, and his hand that had held the receiver feels... wet.
the light down the hallway to the right flickers. they can see a door, down the way. and - a person? somewhat tall, in a blue coat with a white fur trim. their hair is a long, unkempt, blonde mess. but they are facing the door, not all of you, so it's hard to see who they might actually be.]
[ he tries to take estelle's hand out of habit, but as that fails, he instead tries to lead them through the hallway on the right. he stops though, a few paces away from the stranger. definitely doesn't look like another guest in the hotel (or do they), so he can only assume they're hostile, given the Rancid Vibes of this place.
can they simply walk through this unidentified person...? the door's right there... ugh. ]
[The first few breaths Estelle takes next are gasps. She struggles to steady her breathing as she turns away from the eyes and the blood to follow Sylvain, stopping just behind him to stare ahead at the stranger.]
sylvain stops, which is a good thing, because once he gets close enough, the figure in front of him looks at him. not... by turning around, though. there's a sickening crunch as the figure wrenches backwards, his back snapping in half as he bends unnaturally to look at sylvain upside down. there's an agonized look on his face, and he chokes - spits out sylvain's name, but it comes out like static. crackling, horrible. blood drips to the floor from his mouth, his eyes, from under the eyepatch, and turns to a fuzzy white noise as it pools on the ground.
and then he moves.
fast. jitters backwards, still bent in half, rushing right for sylvain, and by extension, the other two as well.]
[ a sense of dread fills him—and sadness. this is the dimitri he remembers from home, which already feels like a lifetime ago. and... this isn't dimitri at all. not anymore. he knows there's something wrong here, even before the body twists itself into grotesque angles. he's already shouting before the creature lunges at him. ]
Estelle, Diluc, go! I'll hold him off!
[ he no idea if he even can, but he's hoping he can keep dimitri's attention affixed on him while the other two skirt around to the exit ]
[ the identity of the figure sinks in just as it bends and twists, then begins to rush towards sylvain. ]
Dammit--!!
[ he's going to listen and run past him, but only to make sure estelle gets around safely. he will throw himself in front of her if this feral dimitri attacks. he's also keeping an eye on sylvain, prepared to jump in and help him if needed. ]
[fortunately, dimitri is only focused on sylvain. maybe unfortunately.
his hands drop to the floor, and he crabwalks at a speed he shouldn't be able to right towards sylvain, launching himself, but - he goes right through. sylvain will feel a very strange sensation, like his insides are being pulled out through his mouth, almost, as his form fuzzes and statics out, as his body wavers. behind him, dimitri snarls - inhuman. and not quite... right. it's mechanical, almost, warbling, like an old broken computer.
and as sylvain is trying to recover from this, the form of dimitri cracks again, and shudders.
... and he opens his mouth, and it keeps opening, and it's wider, and wider, and it's not right, how far it opens, and a claw wrenches itself out of the mouth, furry and slimy and sharp. an arm follows, thick and animal-like, as a tinny voice announces:]
PWAY WITH ME!
[meanwhile, in less horrible news, estelle and diluc manage to make it around, right up to the door. here, they can see that the door is slightly open. all they need to do is open the door.
... and they want to, right? it'd be easier for them to get out, just the two of them. their desire, their wants - if they can just move ahead, they can have more. they'll get what sylvain has, and that's what they want. they've wanted what he has.
he's more free than either of them, so if he dies, they get that freedom. yeah. yeah, that makes sense. they should leave him behind.
well. maybe. both diluc (17) and estelle (15) feel this... until they don't. a voice whispers to them, instead, something feminine and encouraging, dripping with static. no, don't give in.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
guestservices) wrote2022-07-10 03:36 pm
no subject
no, anyway. they flick the light on! and a light turns on at the end of the hallway flicks on.
estelle accidentally kicks a bottle, and it clinks and clatters against the ground in the unnaturally silent hall. a beat of silence.
... nothing. it's very, very quiet here.]
no subject
also hate this hallway already! but their only way to proceed seems to be forward, and then a right.
sylvain walks towards the window and will walk as far as he can in one tag. ]
Anyone home...?
no subject
I'm sorry...
[Against her better judgment, she peeks at the paintings along the way. What do these look like?]
no subject
diluc is going to walk towards the console, checking to see if there's anything on it! besides the lamp ofc. ]
The silence here is very...unsettling.
no subject
... to his right is another expanse of hallway, but it's far too dark to see what's on the end of it.
estelle glances at the paintings as she walks. it's weird - they're just black scribbles. like someone took a black crayon, and went wild on a white piece of paper until it was mostly covered. does she want to try and look closer at these paintings?
diluc, on the other hand, walks down to go check out what's on the little desk thing. to his left, the console is more like a cabinet that's set in the wall. there are burn marks all over it - they look vaguely like the shape of hands, like someone burned the imprint into the wood. a thick layer of dust sits on the top of the desk, as well as on top of the old-timey phone there. and as he gets close, it immediately starts to ring.]
no subject
There's someone outside the building...
[ he's distracted by whomever it is that's watching them to pay attention to what estelle is doing (otherwise he'd dissuade her because... paintings... are bad!), but the sudden ring does startle him. ]
What the...?
no subject
[Paintings are bad, and -- again, against her better judgment -- Estelle studies one to see if she can make out whether there was anything under those scribbles. She gives a start when the phone rings, however.]
no subject
[ he was going to look at the window, after hearing sylvain say that, but then the phone is ringing...he stares at it.
looking at both of them, he sighs, then proceeds to pick it up and answer it...... ]
Hello?
no subject
estelle looks closer at the paintings, and... nothing happens? there's like. briefly, there's a little bit of red in the painting, but when she tries to focus on it, she can't quite tell what it is. anxiety curls in her chest, though. she can't quite breathe.
... something else, can, though. right against the back of her neck.
meanwhile, diluc picks up the phone! there's the sound of running, someone panting, gasping for breath. a shriek - sudden, and even more sudden, a sickening thud of an impact. a little whimper, and then footsteps... there's the sound of something huge and slimy writhing. a wheeze. and then a horrible, mangled gurgle. he hears - his name, desperately, someone familiar calling out for him to help, please help. diluc, help me!
and then it splutters to a stop and the line goes dead.]
no subject
sylvain may notice estelle struggling to breathe, and his attention immediately goes to her ]
Estelle? [ she's really going through it in this cyoa already...
unfortunately he probably can't hear what's going on over the phone, but if diluc's expression shifts, he'll ask what he heard. and then, ]
Maybe we should keep moving.
[ he's not a fan... ]
no subject
She shakes her head -- she can't explain what's bothering her.
If she tries, can she find her breath...?]
no subject
he slams the phone back down onto the receiver. ]
We should.
[ he shakes his head at sylvain's question. then once he comes back to reality, he looks over at estelle, concern replacing the anger on his face. ]
Estelle...
no subject
a sticky, wet, red substance has started to drip from each painting, from the wall behind them. the smell of iron fills the air, and the bleeding - because that's all it can really be, right? - almost stutters, like a horrible heartbeat, splattering down the wall disjointedly.
worst of all, though, are the eyes watching all three of them from each painting.
diluc slams the phone down, and his hand that had held the receiver feels... wet.
the light down the hallway to the right flickers. they can see a door, down the way. and - a person? somewhat tall, in a blue coat with a white fur trim. their hair is a long, unkempt, blonde mess. but they are facing the door, not all of you, so it's hard to see who they might actually be.]
no subject
[ he tries to take estelle's hand out of habit, but as that fails, he instead tries to lead them through the hallway on the right. he stops though, a few paces away from the stranger. definitely doesn't look like another guest in the hotel (or do they), so he can only assume they're hostile, given the Rancid Vibes of this place.
can they simply walk through this unidentified person...? the door's right there... ugh. ]
no subject
Who's there...?
no subject
he stays behind estelle, looking down the hall at the figure. ]
Careful now...
no subject
also yeah! it's blood! haha. his hand is also a skeleton hand. when did that happen.
the person down the hallway twitches violently.]
no subject
also sylvain stops trying to walk through the person as soon as he sees them twitch. this can't be good. ]
Uh, hey, we're just tryna get through...
no subject
We're sorry for trespassing! We just got lost... If you don't want us here, we'll leave right away...
[Then she glances over at Diluc and her eyes widen in terror.] Diluc...?
no subject
When did...There's no pain?
[ he looks to estelle. ] I'm alright.
Sylvain, watch yourself.
[ that twitching can't be good...he'll stand behind sylvain and ready himself. ]
no subject
sylvain stops, which is a good thing, because once he gets close enough, the figure in front of him looks at him. not... by turning around, though. there's a sickening crunch as the figure wrenches backwards, his back snapping in half as he bends unnaturally to look at sylvain upside down. there's an agonized look on his face, and he chokes - spits out sylvain's name, but it comes out like static. crackling, horrible. blood drips to the floor from his mouth, his eyes, from under the eyepatch, and turns to a fuzzy white noise as it pools on the ground.
and then he moves.
fast. jitters backwards, still bent in half, rushing right for sylvain, and by extension, the other two as well.]
no subject
Estelle, Diluc, go! I'll hold him off!
[ he no idea if he even can, but he's hoping he can keep dimitri's attention affixed on him while the other two skirt around to the exit ]
no subject
[She has to study the figure for a few extra moments for its identity to fully sink in.]
No... -- Wait, Sylvain!
[She looks to Sylvain in panic, but she'll do as she's asked and try to run past both him and "Dimitri."]
no subject
Dammit--!!
[ he's going to listen and run past him, but only to make sure estelle gets around safely. he will throw himself in front of her if this feral dimitri attacks. he's also keeping an eye on sylvain, prepared to jump in and help him if needed. ]
no subject
his hands drop to the floor, and he crabwalks at a speed he shouldn't be able to right towards sylvain, launching himself, but - he goes right through. sylvain will feel a very strange sensation, like his insides are being pulled out through his mouth, almost, as his form fuzzes and statics out, as his body wavers. behind him, dimitri snarls - inhuman. and not quite... right. it's mechanical, almost, warbling, like an old broken computer.
and as sylvain is trying to recover from this, the form of dimitri cracks again, and shudders.
... and he opens his mouth, and it keeps opening, and it's wider, and wider, and it's not right, how far it opens, and a claw wrenches itself out of the mouth, furry and slimy and sharp. an arm follows, thick and animal-like, as a tinny voice announces:]
PWAY WITH ME!
[meanwhile, in less horrible news, estelle and diluc manage to make it around, right up to the door. here, they can see that the door is slightly open. all they need to do is open the door.
... and they want to, right? it'd be easier for them to get out, just the two of them. their desire, their wants - if they can just move ahead, they can have more. they'll get what sylvain has, and that's what they want. they've wanted what he has.
he's more free than either of them, so if he dies, they get that freedom. yeah. yeah, that makes sense. they should leave him behind.
well. maybe. both diluc (17) and estelle (15) feel this... until they don't. a voice whispers to them, instead, something feminine and encouraging, dripping with static. no, don't give in.
what will they do?]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)