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@occultyx
baby thwaps kiyoshi on the head a whole bunch with the foam sword. happy father's day or something
Papa Kiyoshi is tired from overtime work, Zackkun. Sorry, no swordfights tonight. But he will give you a big hug as he snoozes on the couch.
deathprcmising:
vuvuzela huh ? expression wrinkles , and he fast shifts out of his lazy sprawl on the couch to a far more confrontational sit - ‘ petit-potato-potatas to you too , einstein ! i’m listenin’ , ain’t i ?! what more do ya want ?! ‘ that smirk was really throwing him off — even so , it was too much to expect every guy to kiss georgie’s high-heeled thanksgiving shoes on the buckle . isaac could live with leaving the halls to themselves so long as it meant he himself could be left alone all the same : were he granted so much as the velvet sofa his two buttcheeks had already left a solid print on , he would’ve been satisfied .
‘ i take it fuckin’ up gonna be let off as easy as a light slap on the wrist either … ‘ ah , talk about a pain in the ass . murder just wasn’t as fun with too many rules and punishments . ‘ s’still better than the streets fer now , i guess , so i’ll take it … ya got anymore ‘tips n’ tricks’ to n’ insult me with , georgie , r’are we finished here ? ‘
“Do not call me that again, you cur.” The gaze that Joseph was giving the other was unnaturally blank and still, as if he had frozen in time. In other words, he was already pissed and done with this disrespectful asshole. Then the expression broke into a small smile as he rose and walked to the large camera in the corner of the room. “Well, I am a photographer. Shall I take your picture? Smile.” Setting it up and aiming with fast, practiced movements, he turned the crank and soon picked up a black and white photo, casually waving it in the air to cool. “Hm. Turned out well.”
Then he sat back on the couch casually, as if he didn’t just do a complete non-sequitur just a moment ago. “Firstly, I should inform you about the survivors’ objectives. In a standard game, there will be four survivors, and 7 cipher machines scattered across the map. In order for the survivors to escape, they must decode 5 of these cipher machines, then open one of two exit gates. If they were merely left with no way to avoid or counter us, of course, the game would be terribly one-sided and unfair, so there are multiple strategies they can use... I could tell you most of them, but I’m sure it’ll go in one ear and out the other, so I won’t bother.”
box-of-characters:
Fingers loosened almost immediately when the opposing grip tightened, the action being perceived as a mild - albeit serious - threat. And those claws certainly didn’t help Cornell think otherwise. So he followed; slowly at first as he gave the possible path of escape one last look before it vanished in the growing darkness, only to pick up the pace when Joseph spoke.
“Goodness no, I would never!” That would be opening a whole new can of worms. This Miss Nightingale could possibly be an issue herself, but if she was, certainly it would have been known by now. Right? Such thoughts were pushed aside when the door was closed behind them, confidence in a possible escape sinking further with each step. At least the parlor appeared comfortable…
“Ah… Yes, thank you.”
He wasted no time in walking to the couches, careful to sweep his tail aside to avoid sitting on it. Small talk, okay, he could do this… but how much information would be considered too much? It was already plain as day that Cornell was far from human, so anything beyond that would be trivial to the average person. And yet Joseph… He seemed to be far from ordinary himself.
“There isn’t much to say really.” A shudder cascaded along his spine, causing Cornell to gingerly hug himself despite the damp clothing. "I travel and offer my services as a medic to those who need it. I enjoy making my own tea blends as well…”
“And you? From that wall, I feel it is safe to assume you enjoy photography.”
The flames roared to life, starting to warm up the otherwise cold room. “Oh, you enjoy tea? I shall put a pot on then. I hope you don’t mind earl grey.” Humming cheerily as he went about his task, Joseph waves his hand. “Ah, yes, I am a photographer. Would you like me to take your picture? I’m sure you’re photogenic.”
As the kettle was placed to boil, he walked back over to the couches and sat in the one opposite from the other, crossing one leg over the other. “So, you’re a doctor then? Just like Mademoiselle Dyer. I’m sure you two would get along, talking about... medical things.”
Joseph tilted his head, smile stretching to a bit of a smirk as he got up and walked over to the wall of photographs. “Ah, yes, should I show you her picture?” He reached up, selecting one and carefully taking it down, before abruptly flicking his wrist and sending it flying in a perfect arc. The photo ended its journey by gently floating down in front of Cornell to be snatched out of the air. It displayed a picture of a woman in a nurse uniform... unfortunately injured, and desperately patching up her wounds while eyeing the camera.
deathprcmising:
‘ woah-woah-WOAH ! ‘ this guy starts touching and talking , the scythe retracts , and zack’s hand fast tries to clamp over to keep too much from spilling out from the other’s mouth , but he’s too late : the wink causes him to detach nigh-immediately , confusion and disgust contorting wrapped features and wrinkling his nose . there’s nausea that he holds in and tries to digest , but shit - everything from head to stomach to nervous wobble in his legs feels like it’s spinning and giving out . ‘ … what the shit are you goin’ on about ?! ‘ he growls ; he’s not even going to try to discern or even recall half of that . ‘ see , this’s what i mean ! crazy shit just won’t stop happenin’ and you can’t quit yappin’ ! ‘you understand ?’ well that’s great , ‘cause i sure as fuck don’t ! if y’can’t even tell me what’s goin’ on then just keep it shut n’ show me the way out ! ‘ as much a plead as he wanted it to be a threat : oh , if only , but real looneys didn’t feel fear .
Cichol was used to charming and endearing himself to people with his cheeriness, wit and silver tongue, but... well, it didn’t seem like the other was the type to be receptive to that at all. Clearly not a Game player, huh? That was alright though-- Cichol wasn’t about to get offended by his crassness-- after all, he did have many a contact among London’s criminals and opportunists. Though at least they heard about his reputation enough not to be rude at this point.... oh well.
“To put it bluntly-- you think of everything that’s happening as crazy, but to me and everyone else here, it’s very normal. So I’m not sure what to explain, since nothing seems out of the ordinary to me.” He gave a casual shrug and chuckle before twirling the large lamppost-slash-staff in his off hand one rotation. “In any case, how about a nice, piping hot cup of darkdrop coffee, my good sir? Caligula’s Coffee House is just around the bend, and though it is a bit costly, I must say I prefer no other.”
deathprcmising:
and seriously , must he ? isaac foster isn’t impressed by the frilly , cotton-candy-colorful mess that’s supposed to be a serial killer’s mentor . there’s a careless skepticism that makes itself clear on his expression as the other goes on : rules ? tips , tricks ? whatever , was this supposed to be his first murder-rodeo ? zack’s not sure whether or not he should have come bearing questions : wants to say , i know what i’m doing , but he thinks it over ; comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t , at least not completely . ( so he’ll stay relatively quiet , aside from the fast , impatient tap of his foot on the ground , and he’ll listen . )
‘ … yeah , i got a question . s’it true i can really kill all i want without anybody comin’ for me here ? ‘ priority as always : the police . ‘ tips n’ tricks ain’t really my style either … don’t think i’d want ‘em from a walkin’ nickel . just tell me what i gotta know , and make it nice and slow and simple , so i can understand . ‘
Joseph couldn’t help the deep sigh that escaped his lips. He was already anticipating the migraine that was going to come from having to deal with the other, and they’ve barely spoken a few sentences to each other. “You’ll certainly be allowed to do as you please... within the limit of the games. The manor is a no-kill zone, so do try to contain yourself in these halls, yes? But no, the police won’t find you here. They’ve certainly tried in the past, but this manor has been declared off limits and a lost cause for a while now, I suspect.”
“And for your information, vous petit pansement, I am a very accomplished hunter. Unless you’d like to walk out of your matches covered in bruises, shamefully with zero kills, I’d suggest taking me and my words more seriously.” He had the feeling this guy wasn’t going to do that until given a serious, physical example though, and at that though Joseph stifled a smirk.
HE’S USED TO THINGS NOT MAKING SENSE . only , not to this extent . there were bare-bones basics even an idiot like him was once certain he could understand : up was up , down was down , and yet here everything ends up flayed and stripped and wrought inside out . anxiety and discomfort translates itself into a predator’s restlessness , zack pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth until capped and cooking with pressure , he finally explodes . points scythe at the other though he should really know better by now . ‘ oi , nothin’ here makes any fuckin’ sense … ! and the creepiest thing is how yer all chipper n’ dandy about it ! what the hell’s wrong with this place ?! ‘ // @occultyx
Oh dear, the poor gentleman looked so confused. It was only to be expected, really-- non-Londoners never truly believe all of the rumors about London, such as the squid people, devils, and the rattus faber. Always think it’s all exaggerations. “Creepy? That’s awfully rude to say, young man, though I suppose I can understand your panic.” Said creepy man chuckled at the provocative scythe in his face, reaching up and touching it to inspect it further and admire the craftsmanship. “There is really no need to be so startled and worried. It is simply that laws are a bit loose here-- ah, I don’t mean the constables, though there are ways to get them to turn a blind eye too.” Cichol gave the other a conspiratory wink. “I mean, natural laws. It is not quite total chaos here, not like the Iron Republic-- my, it is hard to get any current news of that place-- so we Londoners live with our own common sense and logic we have learned simply by staying here and accepting the once-dubious.”
box-of-characters:
A deafening pounding echoed in Cornell’s skull as his heart practically slammed up against his rib cage, trying desperately to free itself and flee this potentially dangerous situation. Unfortunately this feeling didn’t resonate through the rest of his being, as the unicorn could only take a single step backwards before the other male stopped - “guarding” the exit.
Cornell looked over his shoulder now, crystalline eyes wide and darting between the room’s entrance and Joseph as if trying to plot a course for escape. Futile? Surely if he reached the outside he would be able to outrun this man? Yes Cornell was a coward, pitiful as Joseph put it, but he at least had confidence in his stamina. Unless it was true and this man had an ace up his sleeve…
Hesitantly did he finally turn around, hand trembling ever so slightly as it extended to take hold of the other’s in a weak grip. Safe was the last word he’d use to describe this place.
“C-Cornell. My name is Cornell.”
“If I may ask… Why can you not let me leave? If it is because I trespassed then I am truly sorry.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Cornell. Come, let us relax in the parlor, shall we?” Gripping back tightly on his hand, Joseph hummed a little tune as he walked, bringing them both deeper in the manor. “If that were the reason, then that would be awfully heartless of me, would it now?” As if in on some inside joke with himself, he gave a little chuckle. “However, it is not so much that I cannot let you leave-- surely nothing would happen if I were to overlook your presence, as long as you didn’t start snooping around. I suppose... it is merely a whim of mine. It would also be good of me to inform Miss Nightingale of your presence, but well... I’m sure she already knows. You will be good company for a while regardless, yes? Ah, here we are.”
Bringing the other in through a doorway, he closed the door behind them and casually locked it. A quick jaunt up a few steps and they arrived at a cozy parlor featuring an unlit fireplace, cameras, comfy couches, a large organ, a grand bookcase, and dozens upon dozens of photographs pinned on one wall. Finally letting the other’s hand go, he gestured to the couches and headed to light the fireplace. “Do make yourself comfortable. You must have been awfully chilled in that rain, poor man. Why not tell me a bit about yourself, hm?”
@deathprcmising.
“Must I?” Giving a sigh and holding his head as he was informed that yes, he must, Joseph rolled his shoulders. “I suppose it is my turn... even if I’m sure Monsieur Jack would be a better fit with... the new hunter. Or perhaps even Monsieur Leo. After all, he has experience with children... Ah, yes. Excuse me. I shall get going, then.”
Striding down the halls, he adjusted his cuffs and cravat, making sure he was presentable before knocking politely on the door of the room the new hunter was left to stew in. Then without bothering to wait for a response, he entered the room and shut the door behind him, going to sit on the couch opposite of the other. “So... Zack, was it? It seems that I am to be your temporary mentor for your first few days in the manor. Informing you about the game, the rules, little tips and tricks to catch the poor survivors, and other such things.” He crossed one leg other the other and started to inspect his long nails, clearly disinterested. “Do you have any questions that you’d like to be answered immediately?”
box-of-characters:
“A-Ah!”
To say he hadn’t nearly been scared out of his skin would be a lie. This building had looked relatively abandoned from the outside, the only thing hinting otherwise being the lights which glowed ominously at the manor’s entrance and it’s door left ajar, so hearing someone’s voice was startling to say the least. Not to mention their appearance– Of course Cornell wasn’t one to talk given his own complexion and hair color, but there was something about this man’s eyes that gave him the heebie jeebies.
“N-Neither?” Oh Gods what did he step into? “Forgive me sir, I’m not here for any of… that. I was merely looking for a place to wait out the rain.”
“I’ll just… show myself out. I did not mean to intrude–”
“Hmm? Neither, you say?” Briskly walking towards the other, he startled sauntering around him slowly, as if a predator stalking trapped prey. “A survivor, then. Pardon me, I don’t doubt that you are simply some unlucky passerby with no idea what’s going on-- but now that we’ve met, I can hardly let you go so easily, can I?”
Chuckling and coming to a stop behind him, he tucked one hand behind his back and offered the other hand to the other. “No need to be so nervous. This manor is safe, even from those such as I. I must warn you that I am very experienced in chasing down pitiful people like you, however, so attempting to run away will be quite futile.” He smile he gave was all polite charm, despite his threatening words and nails filed into claws. “May I have your name as well, young gentleman?”
@xltruistic.
“You are like a little white rabbit.” He commented suddenly out of nowhere, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. “A prey animal that gets nervous very easily. As well as stressed-- your complexion hasn’t been looking very good these days.” Not that his dogged chases and abrupt scares in their games would have helped much, of course, but the thought just made him chuckle quietly. “Do try to enjoy yourself a little and loosen up. I’ve heard that self care is important. Perhaps borrow one of those perfumes from Madame Nair.”
@hyaciiintho.
Even when he wasn’t jumping between the Camera World and the real world to surprise unsuspecting survivors, Joseph still had the unfortunate habit of deliberately startling them whenever they came across each other within the manor. Nothing that looked too deliberate, but his steps were light and his movements graceful. It was usually enough for him to merely be there when they turned around. This time when seeing the blond hero, he very lightly and casually brushed against him as he passed behind him.
@box-of-characters.
“Welcome to Oletus Manor.” Slipping out a book from the large bookcase in front of him, the photographer said his greetings in a perfunctory manner, clearly more interested in whatever he’s thinking about then actually making the stranger feel welcome. After all, while it wasn’t an everyday occurrence, it wasn’t unusual to see new faces in the manor. Either pitiful fools who he was going to chase around with relish, or contemporaries who he shared a common pleasure with. Still, he tucked the chosen book in the crook of his arm and turned to the other, giving them a gentleman’s bow. “My name is Joseph. Tell me, are you a new hunter, or a survivor?”
STARTER CALL.
About to head to bed, but in case there’s any night cryptids up right now, like this post for a starter with Joseph from Identity V! I’ll pass this around in the morning as well.
OOC.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--
He doesn't understand the purpose of this "game", the reason as to why they're made to survive in the manner they are, much less, how some of the participants can go from pure enemies to mostly-friendly acquaintances. "What's... the purpose to all this? What are we /doing/ here?"
“Based on that question, I take it that you are not enjoying yourself? As I understand it, the prize for the survivors involves money of some sort.” Chuckling, Joseph took a lock of hair and twirled it around a finger. “I know not of your reason for participating in the game, nor do I particularly care to be honest. The underlying purpose of this game, I also do not know. I simply enjoy the task that has been given to me– I presume that this sentiment of mine is largely shared among the other hunters. I suggest thinking less on your purpose and more about how to survive the next match.”
"If... If I may ask, sir..." He began tentatively, fingers brushing a lock of silver hair behind his ear whilst a chocolate gaze flickered away briefly. While they were back at the supposedly /safe/ Mansion, there was still an aura of 'tread carefully' to grip his chest. "... Why... Photographs?" //From xltruistic to Joseph~
@xltruistic.
Humming disinterestedly at the poor nervous survivor’s question, Joseph slowly looked through the various photographs he took during the last game. A slight smirk graced his lips upon finding one he snapped when the other was kneeling on the ground, dazed. Taking the photo, he flicked his wrist, spinning it on the tip of his index finger as his blue gaze finally glanced over to the one beside him. “Photography is a fascinating art form, is it not? A photograph replicates the moment of its capture perfectly, down to the finest, subtle details, the likes of which it is impossible for even the most masterful painters to replicate. Do you not find it uncanny, staring at a perfect replica of yourself at a point in time you can never return to?” At those words, he snatched the photo out of the air and held it between his fingers, offering it to the other.
hyaciiintho:
LONDON ? Stolen by bats– bats ?? Zee Captain???
Link’s head spun from such information, fingers rising to become TANGLED within honeyed locks. He was notorious for getting into all sorts of trouble, true, but this? This was one for the history books, a PARAMOUNT accomplishment for one Hero of Time. Sapphires roamed about the area once more, taking in the sights, the scents, the people, and coming to the realization that he, under no other circumstance, would ever find his way back to Hyrule without the help of one willing to aid him.
Link couldn’t do this alone, not when nary a single sight or person was FAMILIAR to him– That would be absolutely mad. He needed help.
“I… I don’t really know a lot of what you’re talking about…” He began, having always felt that putting HONESTY first and foremost was the best course of action to follow. “… A-and nothing about what you said is familiar to me, at all… but if you could help me get back home, I would be eternally grateful.” How exactly they would go about in doing so, was beyond him, but he held hope that this strange man would have a TRICK or two up his sleeve on the matter.
“Please… could you help me get back home, Lord Cichol?”
“Oh dear-- no need to look at me in such a cute, pitiful way my handsome man. I would be happy to help you find your way to this High Rule-- and in fact, I would love to come with you! It sounds like a lovely place to visit-- Ah, though I don’t know how your sun feels about foreign intruders waltzing in on your soil. Is it a very lawful, orderly place? Physics all in order, no differently-mortal entities about, and a strong separation between dimensions and other such existent yet is-not places? It would be an awful vacation if I were to spontaneously combust and die after all, especially if it’s in a more permanent fashion.
Oh-- look at me rambling on again. I do apologize. For now, how about we take time for supper, or perhaps dinner if you’re hungry? I know of a lovely little place right here in Veilgarden. Come, come.” Hooking his arm around the other’s elbow, he cheerily tugged the other towards the restaurant in mind.
He was practically manhandling him, and he knew it was awfully rude, but Cichol had come to the conclusion that his suspicions were most likely right, and oh how delightful! A true traveler from another time, another world! He was so very excited, and he was not about to let his new companion be snapped up by any passing red stockings, spirifers, or-- God forbid-- any of his various devil contacts. They were great company and at least semi-trustworthy of course, but they were also awfully persistent in getting what they wanted. The poor man looked so innocent and trusting, he seemed like he would lose his soul within the day, poor chap.
