Philip (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sadfreezingbrit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2012-09-01 07:21 am
sadfreezingbrit) wrote in entranceway2012-09-01 07:21 am
Entry tags:
[text/action/lobster] Curiosity would kill the cat, but then Evie might complain
PART 1
[ A cloud of fog is floating in the entrance hall, just near the exit where grey windows hint at more of the mist outside. Philip sits on the stairs a good distance away and turns the gas mask in his hands. ]
{ You wanna go, don't cha? Wouldn't wanna miss out on all the fun things that can tear you limb from limb, right? }
[ ...It's tempting, no matter what the virus says, but Philip isn't in an especially wasteful mood concerning his lives right now.
It's Friday, the first day, and he was hoping that somebody would have transmitted a clearer warning by now. But apparently not.
So he texts the network, almost absent-mindedly. ]
What's in the fog? Does anybody know?
[ After that he pulls a red flare from his pocket and throws it towards the grey mystery. It does little for his visuals, apart from giving the fog an eerie red glow.
After that he waits and keeps watching. ]
PART 2
[ It's still Friday, the first day, but some time has passed since Philip's transmission.
Maybe he got his answers, maybe he didn't. Given the circumstances it doesn't particularly matter.
He's lying just outside stables, on the ground, in a pool of his own blood. There is a bullet hole in his chest and a gas mask in his hand. His body is just starting to get cold. ]
[ A cloud of fog is floating in the entrance hall, just near the exit where grey windows hint at more of the mist outside. Philip sits on the stairs a good distance away and turns the gas mask in his hands. ]
{ You wanna go, don't cha? Wouldn't wanna miss out on all the fun things that can tear you limb from limb, right? }
[ ...It's tempting, no matter what the virus says, but Philip isn't in an especially wasteful mood concerning his lives right now.
It's Friday, the first day, and he was hoping that somebody would have transmitted a clearer warning by now. But apparently not.
So he texts the network, almost absent-mindedly. ]
What's in the fog? Does anybody know?
[ After that he pulls a red flare from his pocket and throws it towards the grey mystery. It does little for his visuals, apart from giving the fog an eerie red glow.
After that he waits and keeps watching. ]
PART 2
[ It's still Friday, the first day, but some time has passed since Philip's transmission.
Maybe he got his answers, maybe he didn't. Given the circumstances it doesn't particularly matter.
He's lying just outside stables, on the ground, in a pool of his own blood. There is a bullet hole in his chest and a gas mask in his hand. His body is just starting to get cold. ]
[...text?]
From observation, I would say that there is nothing in it at all. But it appears as though it could bear some form of plague.
[tExT]
Did you see anybody go in and come out again?
[ Philip seconds that the fog doesn't look like much, at least not from the outside. Although, plague? Hardly something that occurred to him, but he wouldn't brush it off immediately, despite the source and any misconceptions that source might have about the transmission of diseases. Not here. ]
I only caught bits of transmissions myself. By the sound of it they were nervous about something, but I didn't catch what.
[TeXt]
[There's only one thing Athos knows of that could possibly come from the noxious gas people in his time call miasma: mal aria.
Bad air.
The cesspits and sewers are rife with the disease, which spreads like wildfire through the lower classes and leaves them in a debilitating state of fatigue, suffering from weakness, chills, and the inability to breathe or eat. He did not think much of the previous mist that swirled around them from the last event, and not only because it turned him to stone. That had been different. Felt and smelled different.]
Perhaps they have caught the fievre aguë.
]ʇǝxʇ[
Granted, I wouldn't risk a trip without a gas mask, but that's not how those diseases are transmitted.
[ He pauses. Continues writing. ]
USUALLY. Given where we are it's something to keep in mind.
[ It's a possibility, if not an especially enticing one for Philip. ]
{le texte}
Do you know of anyone who has succumbed?
[Athos is fairly certain he heard some unpleasant wailing, but he chose to stay sequestered where it might be safer. Holding a damp cloth over his nose and mouth probably won't be enough.]
If they seem nervous, there must be a reason. Deep-seated. A primal fear.
<textnachricht>
Not so far. I've heard transmissions. Panic, screams, all rather vague.
[ He pauses and frowns, catching himself in the act of showing just a little too much indifference about something that ought to warrant compassion or concern rather than the kind of interest dedicated to pieces in a puzzle. ]
The videos didn't show anything. Might be something invisible. Something that's good at hiding. Or nothing at all.
[ Another pause before adding ]
Just fear.
showing off with your fancytalk
Fear cuts deeper than any blade can.
[Athos reasons, because he knows that much to be true. The only thing that can truly slither under one's skin is fear itself.]
Have you reason to believe that the culprit is sentient? We cannot hold a witch-hunt for the non-corporeal, and I fear the cause of this collective anxiety may be another unstoppable force that must be weathered.
müahahaha /flaunts
No reason to believe much of anything so far. If there's something in the fog then it's not coming out
[ A pause. ]
yet.
[ Another pause, to think about wording. ]
I don't th
[ No. Delete that. Another approach. ]
Any thoughts about going in?
ü looks like a smiley face
And subject myself to a potentially harmful miasma?
[Athos actually laughs on his side of the communicator. Laughs!]
A man may make many foolish mistakes in his life, but one such as this is easily avoided. I recommend caution. Bravery and stupidity go hand in hand.
text;
[ Tragically, the lack of video keeps Alex from seeing that Philip already had this most useful, yet seemingly rare, stroke of brilliance. ]
text;
Got that covered. Don't feel like testing the waters yet though. You think it's the fog itself?
text;
I don't know, but it's worth being careful.
text;
Any moment I'll get bored enough to send a rat in to investigate. The fog goes up to the tenth floor, right?
entirely orthodox text;
[ He doesn't live up there any more, but he made a brief and furtive trip to see if it'd be a safe place to camp out, and nope. No luck.
...Also you've made him curious. ]
A rat? Do you mean a literal rmhug[g
oh-god-not-that-event-again text;
Come again?
[ Should he be worried? Well, let's give it another moment. ]
russian pig latin backwards text;
Crocodiles banged on the glass, made me jump
brb.
;ʇǝxʇ
[ Philip adds, just in case. He doesn't wait for Alex to text back. ]
Everything OK?
sext;
Philip. take a lok at this
[ And then Alex turns the camera on, and Philip gets to see kind-of-first-hand the majestic sight of a couple of five-foot saltwater crocodiles hissing and thrashing and snapping at each other. Alex is in the foreground, sporting worried eyes behind a hazard-yellow gas mask. ]
hnnn;
One rat would've done just fine.
[ Ha. Ha. Hhhhokay, moving on.
Another look at the fighting crocodiles ]
What happened? Fog came, they went mad?
videooohhhhhhh;
[ Alex's voice is muffled behind the plastic and metal, but he's evidently alarmed. Amy's children always took after her in being unnaturally tame, which has frankly as a father of two been a relief. He's seen them snap at each other and squabble, but never have an all out vicious fight.
He finds himself wondering how strong the vivarium's glass is. ]
Crap.
[ He runs his fingers around the mask, checking the straps, making sure it's fitted properly on his face. Honestly he wants to dart out of here and go somewhere clear of anger smoke or whatever that is. But he's attached to the crocodiles, and he's reluctant to leave them to kill one another. ]
videohwait that's not a leg in that icon, it's alex's arm;
[ It's a concerned suggestion so far. Interesting as the sight may be, now that they've caught it there is not much point in staying any longer. ]
videoh no you were right the first time~~~~~~ (1/2)
Yeah, but what are they gonna do to each other.
[ If they were dogs or something he wouldn't let them magic-gas-fight each other to the death, so he wouldn't be happy with letting scalier toothier pets do so either. But he's not sure how he can break them up without going in there and getting torn apart himself.
...Wait. These are magic rooms, aren't they?
He built the vivarium with his brain, so once the idea's come to him, he frowns in concentration and thinks about pushing up a wall in THE MIDDLE OF THE FOG WOW HE NEEDS TO GET THE HELL AWAY FROM THAT BECAUSE HE DOESN'T FEEL LIKE TESTING WHETHER YOU ACTUALLY NEED TO BREATHE THE STUFF FOR IT TO HURT YOU WOW GETOUTOFTHEREFAST
...*cough*
thinks about pushing up a wall in between the two warring crocodiles. The room seems to think about it for a tremulous second, and then a pane of glass sprouts up, knocking the warring crocodiles away from each other and splitting the vivarium in two. First Mosa throws his weight against it, then Vector gives it an even stronger bodyslam, but it holds up effortlessly.
Okay that went a lot more smoothly than expected, now Alex can grab his things and retreat to a safer-- oh
Oh no never mind the gas is starting to curl into the room towards him forget packing anything he's bOOKING IT THE HELL OUT OF THERE BYE. ]
2/2 pants unzipped <- who am I to argue with autocomplete
...Should hold them.
[ He's looking all around, making sure that the corridor he's walking down is a no-smoking environment. ]
That was close.
[ But he actually did something competent for once instead of getting horribly murdered or something, which is nice! ]
letttttts do that whatever-days-later-action thing! ..is that post event or no?
Corpse may be on the top of the list.]
...Oh my god.
nope, still event, should be technically sunday
Well, one corpse, really. His own, that is.
Still lying where Dean left it, caked in blood that has long since dried.
The visitor calls for a livelier attitude, but that display will still take a few moments.
Until then: Nothing. ]
...well damn. ;P I so failed at this event, sob
If it weren't for the fog and the growing fear that's...everywhere, she'd be a little more sad over seeing Philip dead. But now she just wants to get the fuck away.
...Maybe she can grab that gas mask first.]
no subject
A sharp burning in his chest and a sudden pull like somebody jerking him from water.
Philip's eyes open and he takes a raw breath, forced to push himself to sit when dry lips and a sore throat make him cough violently. ]
no subject
Oh my god!
[Her conversational skills are amazing today.]
no subject
No. Hang on.
He's sitting on the ground. Means there's a reason for that. Means he- he fell? Then he has to get up and--
And that's Santana. Not Dean. Dean is gone and also his sweater feels stiff and smells like dried--
Oh. Right. That's why he's on the ground. ]
I'm, uh...
[ He touches his chest. It's fine. Went all out, huh? ]
I'm fine.
[ Wait, was she even worried about that? Ah, well. Philip stands up, slowly. ]
no subject
How do I know you're not a disgusting zombie??
[Never mind that, you know. He's all Wonderland-healed and crap.]