Mr. Quinn

Violating OSHA standards since 1849

[prospectorquinn]

Introduction.

Hello, everybody. My name is Oscar Quinn, I own Quinn Prospecting, a private mining company from the United States. Some of my employees believe I need a social media presence in this day and age, so here I am. Here are 3 fun facts about me. - Quinn Prospecting began when my Great-Grandfather, whom I am named after, found gold in the 1849 Gold Rush. - I alone manage my entire nationwide company and am the sole heir to it. - I have a pet canary named Luther.

//ooc under cut

hey guys! It's the mod of @dangerous-documentation and @wolf-in-friends-clothing back again with a new blog, this one is of the buried/eye avatar Oliver Quinn. History Oliver was born in the early 1800s in Virginia, and went North-West in 1849 for the Gold Rush. Here he suffered an accident, which led to an encounter that transformed him into an avatar of The Buried. He had always enjoyed keeping an eye on those he tortured, often scoping them out beforehand. This was due to The Eye's influence, who had marked him at a young age. After founding Quinn Prospecting and being a stereotypical "i see everything" boss, he achieved full fledged avatar-dom of The Eye as well. His favorite torture trick is to lure someone down into a cave, and then disappear along with the entrance. Tidbits: His pet bird, Luther, is a canary he had met in a mine, whom he became attached to and granted avatar status.

Wherever he goes, people find eye-shaped pebbles. He is covered in a thin film of dust, and nobody can tell if it is old age or The Buried.

He is surprisingly flexible for his age, especially when it comes to caving. He hates talking to people and only responds to "Mr. Quinn" or "Sir" from most people. All interactions will be marked with (#🕳️ Hand me my shovel)

[ashesoflovelonglost]

Samuel is suddenly hit with an awful feeling, a feeling of thousands of eyes on him, all waiting expectantly. The pressure of it all is almost too much to bear.

…The- The hell are you looking at?

[prospectorquinn]

"Hopefully a firebringer in need of a job."

A voice from behind Samuel, as he turns to see an old man in a dirtied brown/red pinstripe suit. The man reeks of importance, as he stands straight with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes drill holes in Samuel's head, a sharp gaze that could only be from an eyevitar. "Oscar Quinn, at your service."

[ashesoflovelonglost]

He jumped

“And why the hell are you here?”

His eyes burned with an unnatural anger.

[prospectorquinn]

"Calm yourself, Samuel. I mean no harm, as long as you cooperate."

The man is unconcerned, whether due to a misunderstanding of power or that he truly believes he cannot be hurt, nobody knows.

[ashesoflovelonglost]

He laughs

“are you threatening me?”

[prospectorquinn]

"Of course not. Any good businessman knows you can't get anywhere through threats. Now, are you going to hear me out, or try, and fail, to kill me?"

[ashesoflovelonglost]

"...I'm listening. What do you want?"

[prospectorquinn]

"I am known to make deals with you firebringers, your destruction amuses me. I supply kindling, and you supply favors." It was clear in the man's tone that these "favors" would not be ethical.

[ashesoflovelonglost]

”…What kind of favors?”

[prospectorquinn]

"That part doesn't concern you quite yet. Regardless, what do you say?" The man sticks out a hand, awaiting a handshake. In contrast to his suit, his skin is clean as can be, nails trimmed perfectly, hair cut to perfection.

[prospectorquinn]

There was a man who did not belong in the mines. He was doing an alright enough job at looking as though he did- picking up one of the miner's outfits somewhere, the clothing lightly tattered and covered with dust and dirt. His sunglasses had been tucked away, leaving his face feeling unusually exposed- not that it mattered. It was dark down here, and dusty, he could already feel the earthly grime pressing in around him as he walked down the tunnels in steel-cap boots. Something about this place made him uneasy- he wasn't sure what it was. He'd snuck into a variety of places, all sorts of work, he might not have gone into mining before, but he'd been in similar-ish spaces. So why did this place make him uneasy?

He dismissed it- probably nothing. Just a lack of sleep setting him on-edge or some other such bullshit. Nothing to get worked up about.

Just a simple job, there was sure to be many things he could do here. Something to give a little scare- a startle. Something to disrupt the simple routine of the day, to ease the violent yearning within his blood. A sigh escaped him as he took pause, leaning against a wall, gripping the bottom of his face with one scarred hand, closing his eyes for a moment before opening once more to shoot a glare at one of the cameras- how many cameras did one guy need? Probably just a safety measure, he imagined, though it struck him as odd considering how… lacklustre the other safety measures or lack thereof seemed. The people here seemed uneasy- it was no wonder he could slip in with such ease. He probably didn't even need to take one of their uniforms, tch. Whatever, too fucking late now. He grumbled beneath his breath as he kicked off against the wall, ready to go find somebody.

"…Shit." Something definitely wasn't right here. Maybe he should've thought twice before coming here. @everyday-violence

Henry may try to whisper to one of the employees, ask them what was going on in this place, but none would answer, only stopping their work to glance at the cameras, likely looking for the red button that said it was active - which is always was - or to check their watch. This particular mine was a coal mine, and an older one at that, so Henry wasn't too surprised when he heard a chirping bird from deeper in the cave, but nevertheless he felt implored to investigate. As he wandered deeper into the cave he found himself in a large open area, lit only by a lantern or two. There were no workers in this part of the cave, clearly all being up closer to the surface in case of a cave-in, as this chamber was clearly unstable. In the center of the chamber lied a single yellow bird, a canary, lying on its back, not breathing.

[everyday-violence]

Talk about a hostile work environment- he'd seen people get into fights- had sparked fights between people, but that didn't compare to the… tension here. He didn't like it. Those creepy cameras certainly weren't helping either. It felt like they were watching him specifically, glaring a hole right through his back- like they knew, like they were aware he was intruding, trespassing. Which was a load of shit, really- he doubted the security guards were paying that much attention, and even if they were, he doubted they knew the workers enough to know there was one more than there was supposed to be. Maybe.

Whatever. He needed to hurry up with this. Not like he wanted to spend his entire fucking day in a damn mine. (Not like he had much better to do- though at least if he started a bar fight he'd get some drinks out of it. Here the air was dryer than any alcohol.)

His eyebrows furrowed when he entered the chamber- squinting at the fragile support pillars. "Fuckin' wankers…" Why wasn't this place boarded up? Even if they did have plans to use it later, they ought to at least put a temporary measure to make sure no dumbass went and got lost in the wrong part of the cave. This was just a failure on multiple accounts, did seriously not one person bother to do anything about this?

He scoffed, shaking his head as he took step after step further in, though he couldn't help but to feel hesitant. A cave-in certainly didn't sound particularly pleasant to him either. And- he grimaced, peering down at the bird. Was that the thing he'd heard chirping earlier? Certainly didn't look like it'd be chirping again anytime soon. He almost felt bad for it, kinda.

Suddenly, he stopped, about half-way to the bird. Weren't these things meant to detect poison, or something? Natural gas, or what-not? An explosion should do nicely. He slapped a hand across his nose and mouth. This was a stupid fucking idea. He should've left the moment he saw there weren't any humans down here.

Can he even die? He's already did so once- but his heart continued pumping now regardless- albeit a little less than it probably should. Honestly? Probably best not to risk finding out the answer to that question. He should leave. Maybe cause some trouble on the upper levels, but either way he needed to get out of this room.

[prospectorquinn]

When Henry turns back again, he is confused, as where he had entered the chamber, a large rocky entryway, had suddenly vanished, no cave-in or anything similar, simply nothing but thick dirt and rock. When he turns again, the bird is gone, but standing on the other side of the chamber is an older man, clearly in charge. He looks like he has been down there for ages, his skin pale, his clothes dirtied, especially around the ankles, clearly having kicked up some dust on his way down. The man looked at Henry with contempt, as if he had already made up his mind that he wasn't even worth talking to. "It seems you have gotten lost, is that correct Mr. Thompson?"

The man's voice is deep and commanding, and for a moment Henry truly believes that he was, indeed, just lost, before remembering suddenly, that he had not told the man his name.

[everyday-violence]

The sheer… weirdness of the whole situation shocks him into silence for a moment, gears turning as he tries to figure- or at least process what it is that's going on. Trapped, the way he came in just covered up as though it were never there to begin with. There had to be an exit somewhere though, surely? Bird gone, old man who appeared as though he should be in an office with paperwork- he never did like those upper management sorts, but it wasn't as though they liked him either, just like this prick clearly seemed to demonstrate with that disdainful gaze. He got the feeling he was out of his depth here- how did he know his name? Everything about this was weird- wrong. Just who the fuck was this guy?!

His hands itched, and he lifted the one from his mouth to instead run it through his hair as he sighed deeply, trying to ease the irritation that sparked up at the sheer condescension this man radiated. Pompous ass, it was surprising somebody with such a smug attitude didn't seem to mind being covered in dirt and dust from head to toe.

Maybe he should be vague about it- don't admit to any wrongdoing and all that shit… Tapping his fingers against his thigh, he grumbled out a response. "'dunno. Am I? Not like there were any fu-" He cuts himself off, clearing his throat to try and cover the swear. He's been scolded one too many times about 'appropriate workplace language' to bear hearing it again. In general, his attitude wasn't one many took to fondly, but generally his work made up for it- and if it didn't, well, it wasn't as though they ever got to see him again to keep complaining about it. "Any signs or anything." If there were though, he certainly wasn't paying attention.

He- maybe it was just a guess. Or there was some other poor bastard named 'Thompson' here that he was mistaken for or- no, the more he thinks about it the more it bothers him. Not as though that's a particularly difficult task, especially these days, but still. It's probably better to keep his mouth shut.

So of course he dug himself further into a whole, boot scuffing against the floor as his eyebrows furrowed into a suspicious glare. "How'd you get my name, anyway?" Nobody recognised him in all the previous places he took, right? He was sure he'd have receive some sort of notice or police presence by now if that was the case.

[prospectorquinn]

"I know all of my workers." The man stated coldly, it was clear that there was not a lick of doubt in his statement. He continued, "You are not one of them. let's try again. Why are you in my mines, Mr. Thompson?"

[everyday-violence]

…Okay! Shit. He got the feeling the old bastard wasn't going to be dropping this so easily, even once he left the mine. That was okay, he could withstand a fight- verbal, physical, but… legal? Financial? …He'd figure it out if it came to that. Dead men couldn't sue, after all. Still. Something about the geezer… unsettled him. That unrelenting stare, the way he just- knew his name- maybe this place was getting to him.

It's not as though he can just admit 'I wanted to sneak in and cause a horrific workplace accident that injures or kills multiple people'. Well- he could, but again, that was just a one-way ticket to prison.

C'mon, Thompson, not like it's the first time somebody's recognised you don't belong. Just… play it off. Respond with all the 'I don't give a shit' attitude of an ordinary worker just trying to get through the day. It's not as though he ever held much respect or care for authority to begin with. It helped that he generally held that sort of attitude by default- he wasn't the best of liars or actors, in all honesty. What is it they say- play to your strengths, and all that? Being a grouchy ass could turn out useful sometimes it turned out. Surely the old bastard had better things to do than interrogate someone who clearly wasn't going to be providing any useful answers- right? "Like you said, got a little lost was all." It's hard to brush off accusation of wrongdoing when he's wearing a stolen uniform, though, so he tries to correct, add on something to make a bit more sense. "I'm new… Maybe the files just haven't been updated? Not like I'd know." He dismisses with a careless shrug. Just a management mistake, just a 'sent to the wrong mine' issue, just nothing to worry about. He glances about, trying to find a potential exit in case he had to make a run for it.

[prospectorquinn]

"Lying to a potential employer is not the correct route, Mr. Thompson." "I am going to ask one more time, simply because I want to hear you say it aloud. What are you doing in the mine." Henry realized that the man was not asking a question, merely a statement, but nevertheless he felt the need to answer, as if it was being forced out of his own mouth, choking on his answer as he felt the pressure of it.

[everyday-violence]

He grasped at his chest, wincing at the sudden… pressure, the weight of his words tight within his throat and before he knew it he was speaking, the admission leaving his lips before he could think better of it.

"I came to stir up trouble- violence. Find some shit to mess up, scare some people, hurt 'em, maybe, kill them- doesn't matter, just needed to get them to open their eyes, look around- the world isn't a safe place, never will be. People're too quick to forget, fail to realise until the pain's right in front of 'em. Frighten them real good, then. And I never worked a mine before, either, had to mark it off the list, y'know? Just had to get in, find some machinary maybe, explosives- if those things are even used these days, not sure. I just needed to look around at my options, pick something and use it, then leave in the aftermath- in and out, easy as that."

As the answer was provided, the pressure eased up, leaving him feeling almost light-headed in the sudden vacancy, stumbling back as he dug his fingers into his temples, recovering air now that his words were no longer blocking off his throat.

That- that was definitely fucking creepy.

It wasn't normal.

It… Was that-? He wasn't sure what to make of it. 'Magically forcing people to give the truth' sounded like bullshit but then again so did 'magically causing machines and vehicles to malfunction and fights to break out' and- it made sense, that other people had these… weird things off about them, that he wasn't the only one but- it just- it was something to wrap his head around, to be sure.

"The-" He cleared his throat, there was a pounding in his blood, 'What right does this asshole have?' questioned that same part of his mind that delighted in the screams. 'He'd deserve it, you can't just let him get away with messing with you like that,' it coaxed, body burning in an almost painful yearning to see blood spilt across stone. He grabbed onto his trusty tool- the handle of his wrench felt fitted to his hand, a soothing balm in the storm of feeling that had washed over him. It was a comforting weight, even if it couldn't completely abate the unease that had settled within his bones.

"What the fuck was that?! Who even are you?!" He demanded, lips pulled back into a snarl, eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the creepy old fuck.

[prospectorquinn]

The man smiles with pleasure. "Now now, Henry. We can't have that, especially not here. That wrench will do you no good, and when you try to kill me it certainly won't succeed." He paused for a moment, feigning being stuck in thought, but Henry knew it was an act. through some twisted way, he knew that the man knew exactly how this interaction will play out. The way I see it, you have two options. Either you leave, or you don't." With that statement, Henry looks around, and with a quick pang, realizes the chamber is ever so slightly smaller than before.

[everyday-violence]

So calm, so confident- he wasn't sure if it was more or less preferable that the man had finally used his given name. It drove a shiver down his spine, if nothing else. Of course he knew it, if he knew the surname but still- it was unsettling to have it confirmed. He still didn't know a thing about the old bastard, beyond how tempting it was to storm forward and cave his skull into splinters. He took a deep breath instead, tightening and loosening his hold on the wrench, hoping it would soothe the anger boiling within. "Leaving suits me just fucking fine." He grumbles out, looking away from the irritant to study the cavern around instead- where was the exit, again? It seemed… smaller- but that, couldn't be, right? …Whatever was going on, it was definitely the old man behind it. Even if he did murder the man, where would that leave him? Trapped in this dusty old cave. It was best to just cut his losses here. "Always some other stupid bastard out there- just… let me exit or whatever, I'll leave your bloody workers alone, and I won't go sneaking in here again, that good?"

[prospectorquinn]

The man smirks. "Feel free to go, but I can't imagine this is the last time we will be seeing each other. However, I do warn you. I will remember your face."

[ashesoflovelonglost]

Samuel is suddenly hit with an awful feeling, a feeling of thousands of eyes on him, all waiting expectantly. The pressure of it all is almost too much to bear.

…The- The hell are you looking at?

[prospectorquinn]

"Hopefully a firebringer in need of a job."

A voice from behind Samuel, as he turns to see an old man in a dirtied brown/red pinstripe suit. The man reeks of importance, as he stands straight with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes drill holes in Samuel's head, a sharp gaze that could only be from an eyevitar. "Oscar Quinn, at your service."

[ashesoflovelonglost]

He jumped

“And why the hell are you here?”

His eyes burned with an unnatural anger.

[prospectorquinn]

"Calm yourself, Samuel. I mean no harm, as long as you cooperate."

The man is unconcerned, whether due to a misunderstanding of power or that he truly believes he cannot be hurt, nobody knows.

[ashesoflovelonglost]

He laughs

“are you threatening me?”

[prospectorquinn]

"Of course not. Any good businessman knows you can't get anywhere through threats. Now, are you going to hear me out, or try, and fail, to kill me?"

[ashesoflovelonglost]

"...I'm listening. What do you want?"

[prospectorquinn]

"I am known to make deals with you firebringers, your destruction amuses me. I supply kindling, and you supply favors." It was clear in the man's tone that these "favors" would not be ethical.

[ashesoflovelonglost]

Samuel is suddenly hit with an awful feeling, a feeling of thousands of eyes on him, all waiting expectantly. The pressure of it all is almost too much to bear.

…The- The hell are you looking at?

[prospectorquinn]

"Hopefully a firebringer in need of a job."

A voice from behind Samuel, as he turns to see an old man in a dirtied brown/red pinstripe suit. The man reeks of importance, as he stands straight with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes drill holes in Samuel's head, a sharp gaze that could only be from an eyevitar. "Oscar Quinn, at your service."

[ashesoflovelonglost]

He jumped

“And why the hell are you here?”

His eyes burned with an unnatural anger.

[prospectorquinn]

"Calm yourself, Samuel. I mean no harm, as long as you cooperate."

The man is unconcerned, whether due to a misunderstanding of power or that he truly believes he cannot be hurt, nobody knows.

[ashesoflovelonglost]

He laughs

“are you threatening me?”

[prospectorquinn]

"Of course not. Any good businessman knows you can't get anywhere through threats. Now, are you going to hear me out, or try, and fail, to kill me?"

[prospectorquinn]

There was a man who did not belong in the mines. He was doing an alright enough job at looking as though he did- picking up one of the miner's outfits somewhere, the clothing lightly tattered and covered with dust and dirt. His sunglasses had been tucked away, leaving his face feeling unusually exposed- not that it mattered. It was dark down here, and dusty, he could already feel the earthly grime pressing in around him as he walked down the tunnels in steel-cap boots. Something about this place made him uneasy- he wasn't sure what it was. He'd snuck into a variety of places, all sorts of work, he might not have gone into mining before, but he'd been in similar-ish spaces. So why did this place make him uneasy?

He dismissed it- probably nothing. Just a lack of sleep setting him on-edge or some other such bullshit. Nothing to get worked up about.

Just a simple job, there was sure to be many things he could do here. Something to give a little scare- a startle. Something to disrupt the simple routine of the day, to ease the violent yearning within his blood. A sigh escaped him as he took pause, leaning against a wall, gripping the bottom of his face with one scarred hand, closing his eyes for a moment before opening once more to shoot a glare at one of the cameras- how many cameras did one guy need? Probably just a safety measure, he imagined, though it struck him as odd considering how… lacklustre the other safety measures or lack thereof seemed. The people here seemed uneasy- it was no wonder he could slip in with such ease. He probably didn't even need to take one of their uniforms, tch. Whatever, too fucking late now. He grumbled beneath his breath as he kicked off against the wall, ready to go find somebody.

"…Shit." Something definitely wasn't right here. Maybe he should've thought twice before coming here. @everyday-violence

Henry may try to whisper to one of the employees, ask them what was going on in this place, but none would answer, only stopping their work to glance at the cameras, likely looking for the red button that said it was active - which is always was - or to check their watch. This particular mine was a coal mine, and an older one at that, so Henry wasn't too surprised when he heard a chirping bird from deeper in the cave, but nevertheless he felt implored to investigate. As he wandered deeper into the cave he found himself in a large open area, lit only by a lantern or two. There were no workers in this part of the cave, clearly all being up closer to the surface in case of a cave-in, as this chamber was clearly unstable. In the center of the chamber lied a single yellow bird, a canary, lying on its back, not breathing.

[everyday-violence]

Talk about a hostile work environment- he'd seen people get into fights- had sparked fights between people, but that didn't compare to the… tension here. He didn't like it. Those creepy cameras certainly weren't helping either. It felt like they were watching him specifically, glaring a hole right through his back- like they knew, like they were aware he was intruding, trespassing. Which was a load of shit, really- he doubted the security guards were paying that much attention, and even if they were, he doubted they knew the workers enough to know there was one more than there was supposed to be. Maybe.

Whatever. He needed to hurry up with this. Not like he wanted to spend his entire fucking day in a damn mine. (Not like he had much better to do- though at least if he started a bar fight he'd get some drinks out of it. Here the air was dryer than any alcohol.)

His eyebrows furrowed when he entered the chamber- squinting at the fragile support pillars. "Fuckin' wankers…" Why wasn't this place boarded up? Even if they did have plans to use it later, they ought to at least put a temporary measure to make sure no dumbass went and got lost in the wrong part of the cave. This was just a failure on multiple accounts, did seriously not one person bother to do anything about this?

He scoffed, shaking his head as he took step after step further in, though he couldn't help but to feel hesitant. A cave-in certainly didn't sound particularly pleasant to him either. And- he grimaced, peering down at the bird. Was that the thing he'd heard chirping earlier? Certainly didn't look like it'd be chirping again anytime soon. He almost felt bad for it, kinda.

Suddenly, he stopped, about half-way to the bird. Weren't these things meant to detect poison, or something? Natural gas, or what-not? An explosion should do nicely. He slapped a hand across his nose and mouth. This was a stupid fucking idea. He should've left the moment he saw there weren't any humans down here.

Can he even die? He's already did so once- but his heart continued pumping now regardless- albeit a little less than it probably should. Honestly? Probably best not to risk finding out the answer to that question. He should leave. Maybe cause some trouble on the upper levels, but either way he needed to get out of this room.

[prospectorquinn]

When Henry turns back again, he is confused, as where he had entered the chamber, a large rocky entryway, had suddenly vanished, no cave-in or anything similar, simply nothing but thick dirt and rock. When he turns again, the bird is gone, but standing on the other side of the chamber is an older man, clearly in charge. He looks like he has been down there for ages, his skin pale, his clothes dirtied, especially around the ankles, clearly having kicked up some dust on his way down. The man looked at Henry with contempt, as if he had already made up his mind that he wasn't even worth talking to. "It seems you have gotten lost, is that correct Mr. Thompson?"

The man's voice is deep and commanding, and for a moment Henry truly believes that he was, indeed, just lost, before remembering suddenly, that he had not told the man his name.

[everyday-violence]

The sheer… weirdness of the whole situation shocks him into silence for a moment, gears turning as he tries to figure- or at least process what it is that's going on. Trapped, the way he came in just covered up as though it were never there to begin with. There had to be an exit somewhere though, surely? Bird gone, old man who appeared as though he should be in an office with paperwork- he never did like those upper management sorts, but it wasn't as though they liked him either, just like this prick clearly seemed to demonstrate with that disdainful gaze. He got the feeling he was out of his depth here- how did he know his name? Everything about this was weird- wrong. Just who the fuck was this guy?!

His hands itched, and he lifted the one from his mouth to instead run it through his hair as he sighed deeply, trying to ease the irritation that sparked up at the sheer condescension this man radiated. Pompous ass, it was surprising somebody with such a smug attitude didn't seem to mind being covered in dirt and dust from head to toe.

Maybe he should be vague about it- don't admit to any wrongdoing and all that shit… Tapping his fingers against his thigh, he grumbled out a response. "'dunno. Am I? Not like there were any fu-" He cuts himself off, clearing his throat to try and cover the swear. He's been scolded one too many times about 'appropriate workplace language' to bear hearing it again. In general, his attitude wasn't one many took to fondly, but generally his work made up for it- and if it didn't, well, it wasn't as though they ever got to see him again to keep complaining about it. "Any signs or anything." If there were though, he certainly wasn't paying attention.

He- maybe it was just a guess. Or there was some other poor bastard named 'Thompson' here that he was mistaken for or- no, the more he thinks about it the more it bothers him. Not as though that's a particularly difficult task, especially these days, but still. It's probably better to keep his mouth shut.

So of course he dug himself further into a whole, boot scuffing against the floor as his eyebrows furrowed into a suspicious glare. "How'd you get my name, anyway?" Nobody recognised him in all the previous places he took, right? He was sure he'd have receive some sort of notice or police presence by now if that was the case.

[prospectorquinn]

"I know all of my workers." The man stated coldly, it was clear that there was not a lick of doubt in his statement. He continued, "You are not one of them. let's try again. Why are you in my mines, Mr. Thompson?"

[everyday-violence]

…Okay! Shit. He got the feeling the old bastard wasn't going to be dropping this so easily, even once he left the mine. That was okay, he could withstand a fight- verbal, physical, but… legal? Financial? …He'd figure it out if it came to that. Dead men couldn't sue, after all. Still. Something about the geezer… unsettled him. That unrelenting stare, the way he just- knew his name- maybe this place was getting to him.

It's not as though he can just admit 'I wanted to sneak in and cause a horrific workplace accident that injures or kills multiple people'. Well- he could, but again, that was just a one-way ticket to prison.

C'mon, Thompson, not like it's the first time somebody's recognised you don't belong. Just… play it off. Respond with all the 'I don't give a shit' attitude of an ordinary worker just trying to get through the day. It's not as though he ever held much respect or care for authority to begin with. It helped that he generally held that sort of attitude by default- he wasn't the best of liars or actors, in all honesty. What is it they say- play to your strengths, and all that? Being a grouchy ass could turn out useful sometimes it turned out. Surely the old bastard had better things to do than interrogate someone who clearly wasn't going to be providing any useful answers- right? "Like you said, got a little lost was all." It's hard to brush off accusation of wrongdoing when he's wearing a stolen uniform, though, so he tries to correct, add on something to make a bit more sense. "I'm new… Maybe the files just haven't been updated? Not like I'd know." He dismisses with a careless shrug. Just a management mistake, just a 'sent to the wrong mine' issue, just nothing to worry about. He glances about, trying to find a potential exit in case he had to make a run for it.

[prospectorquinn]

"Lying to a potential employer is not the correct route, Mr. Thompson." "I am going to ask one more time, simply because I want to hear you say it aloud. What are you doing in the mine." Henry realized that the man was not asking a question, merely a statement, but nevertheless he felt the need to answer, as if it was being forced out of his own mouth, choking on his answer as he felt the pressure of it.

[everyday-violence]

He grasped at his chest, wincing at the sudden… pressure, the weight of his words tight within his throat and before he knew it he was speaking, the admission leaving his lips before he could think better of it.

"I came to stir up trouble- violence. Find some shit to mess up, scare some people, hurt 'em, maybe, kill them- doesn't matter, just needed to get them to open their eyes, look around- the world isn't a safe place, never will be. People're too quick to forget, fail to realise until the pain's right in front of 'em. Frighten them real good, then. And I never worked a mine before, either, had to mark it off the list, y'know? Just had to get in, find some machinary maybe, explosives- if those things are even used these days, not sure. I just needed to look around at my options, pick something and use it, then leave in the aftermath- in and out, easy as that."

As the answer was provided, the pressure eased up, leaving him feeling almost light-headed in the sudden vacancy, stumbling back as he dug his fingers into his temples, recovering air now that his words were no longer blocking off his throat.

That- that was definitely fucking creepy.

It wasn't normal.

It… Was that-? He wasn't sure what to make of it. 'Magically forcing people to give the truth' sounded like bullshit but then again so did 'magically causing machines and vehicles to malfunction and fights to break out' and- it made sense, that other people had these… weird things off about them, that he wasn't the only one but- it just- it was something to wrap his head around, to be sure.

"The-" He cleared his throat, there was a pounding in his blood, 'What right does this asshole have?' questioned that same part of his mind that delighted in the screams. 'He'd deserve it, you can't just let him get away with messing with you like that,' it coaxed, body burning in an almost painful yearning to see blood spilt across stone. He grabbed onto his trusty tool- the handle of his wrench felt fitted to his hand, a soothing balm in the storm of feeling that had washed over him. It was a comforting weight, even if it couldn't completely abate the unease that had settled within his bones.

"What the fuck was that?! Who even are you?!" He demanded, lips pulled back into a snarl, eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the creepy old fuck.

[prospectorquinn]

The man smiles with pleasure. "Now now, Henry. We can't have that, especially not here. That wrench will do you no good, and when you try to kill me it certainly won't succeed." He paused for a moment, feigning being stuck in thought, but Henry knew it was an act. through some twisted way, he knew that the man knew exactly how this interaction will play out. The way I see it, you have two options. Either you leave, or you don't." With that statement, Henry looks around, and with a quick pang, realizes the chamber is ever so slightly smaller than before.

[prospectorquinn]

There was a man who did not belong in the mines. He was doing an alright enough job at looking as though he did- picking up one of the miner's outfits somewhere, the clothing lightly tattered and covered with dust and dirt. His sunglasses had been tucked away, leaving his face feeling unusually exposed- not that it mattered. It was dark down here, and dusty, he could already feel the earthly grime pressing in around him as he walked down the tunnels in steel-cap boots. Something about this place made him uneasy- he wasn't sure what it was. He'd snuck into a variety of places, all sorts of work, he might not have gone into mining before, but he'd been in similar-ish spaces. So why did this place make him uneasy?

He dismissed it- probably nothing. Just a lack of sleep setting him on-edge or some other such bullshit. Nothing to get worked up about.

Just a simple job, there was sure to be many things he could do here. Something to give a little scare- a startle. Something to disrupt the simple routine of the day, to ease the violent yearning within his blood. A sigh escaped him as he took pause, leaning against a wall, gripping the bottom of his face with one scarred hand, closing his eyes for a moment before opening once more to shoot a glare at one of the cameras- how many cameras did one guy need? Probably just a safety measure, he imagined, though it struck him as odd considering how… lacklustre the other safety measures or lack thereof seemed. The people here seemed uneasy- it was no wonder he could slip in with such ease. He probably didn't even need to take one of their uniforms, tch. Whatever, too fucking late now. He grumbled beneath his breath as he kicked off against the wall, ready to go find somebody.

"…Shit." Something definitely wasn't right here. Maybe he should've thought twice before coming here. @everyday-violence

Henry may try to whisper to one of the employees, ask them what was going on in this place, but none would answer, only stopping their work to glance at the cameras, likely looking for the red button that said it was active - which is always was - or to check their watch. This particular mine was a coal mine, and an older one at that, so Henry wasn't too surprised when he heard a chirping bird from deeper in the cave, but nevertheless he felt implored to investigate. As he wandered deeper into the cave he found himself in a large open area, lit only by a lantern or two. There were no workers in this part of the cave, clearly all being up closer to the surface in case of a cave-in, as this chamber was clearly unstable. In the center of the chamber lied a single yellow bird, a canary, lying on its back, not breathing.

[everyday-violence]

Talk about a hostile work environment- he'd seen people get into fights- had sparked fights between people, but that didn't compare to the… tension here. He didn't like it. Those creepy cameras certainly weren't helping either. It felt like they were watching him specifically, glaring a hole right through his back- like they knew, like they were aware he was intruding, trespassing. Which was a load of shit, really- he doubted the security guards were paying that much attention, and even if they were, he doubted they knew the workers enough to know there was one more than there was supposed to be. Maybe.

Whatever. He needed to hurry up with this. Not like he wanted to spend his entire fucking day in a damn mine. (Not like he had much better to do- though at least if he started a bar fight he'd get some drinks out of it. Here the air was dryer than any alcohol.)

His eyebrows furrowed when he entered the chamber- squinting at the fragile support pillars. "Fuckin' wankers…" Why wasn't this place boarded up? Even if they did have plans to use it later, they ought to at least put a temporary measure to make sure no dumbass went and got lost in the wrong part of the cave. This was just a failure on multiple accounts, did seriously not one person bother to do anything about this?

He scoffed, shaking his head as he took step after step further in, though he couldn't help but to feel hesitant. A cave-in certainly didn't sound particularly pleasant to him either. And- he grimaced, peering down at the bird. Was that the thing he'd heard chirping earlier? Certainly didn't look like it'd be chirping again anytime soon. He almost felt bad for it, kinda.

Suddenly, he stopped, about half-way to the bird. Weren't these things meant to detect poison, or something? Natural gas, or what-not? An explosion should do nicely. He slapped a hand across his nose and mouth. This was a stupid fucking idea. He should've left the moment he saw there weren't any humans down here.

Can he even die? He's already did so once- but his heart continued pumping now regardless- albeit a little less than it probably should. Honestly? Probably best not to risk finding out the answer to that question. He should leave. Maybe cause some trouble on the upper levels, but either way he needed to get out of this room.

[prospectorquinn]

When Henry turns back again, he is confused, as where he had entered the chamber, a large rocky entryway, had suddenly vanished, no cave-in or anything similar, simply nothing but thick dirt and rock. When he turns again, the bird is gone, but standing on the other side of the chamber is an older man, clearly in charge. He looks like he has been down there for ages, his skin pale, his clothes dirtied, especially around the ankles, clearly having kicked up some dust on his way down. The man looked at Henry with contempt, as if he had already made up his mind that he wasn't even worth talking to. "It seems you have gotten lost, is that correct Mr. Thompson?"

The man's voice is deep and commanding, and for a moment Henry truly believes that he was, indeed, just lost, before remembering suddenly, that he had not told the man his name.

[everyday-violence]

The sheer… weirdness of the whole situation shocks him into silence for a moment, gears turning as he tries to figure- or at least process what it is that's going on. Trapped, the way he came in just covered up as though it were never there to begin with. There had to be an exit somewhere though, surely? Bird gone, old man who appeared as though he should be in an office with paperwork- he never did like those upper management sorts, but it wasn't as though they liked him either, just like this prick clearly seemed to demonstrate with that disdainful gaze. He got the feeling he was out of his depth here- how did he know his name? Everything about this was weird- wrong. Just who the fuck was this guy?!

His hands itched, and he lifted the one from his mouth to instead run it through his hair as he sighed deeply, trying to ease the irritation that sparked up at the sheer condescension this man radiated. Pompous ass, it was surprising somebody with such a smug attitude didn't seem to mind being covered in dirt and dust from head to toe.

Maybe he should be vague about it- don't admit to any wrongdoing and all that shit… Tapping his fingers against his thigh, he grumbled out a response. "'dunno. Am I? Not like there were any fu-" He cuts himself off, clearing his throat to try and cover the swear. He's been scolded one too many times about 'appropriate workplace language' to bear hearing it again. In general, his attitude wasn't one many took to fondly, but generally his work made up for it- and if it didn't, well, it wasn't as though they ever got to see him again to keep complaining about it. "Any signs or anything." If there were though, he certainly wasn't paying attention.

He- maybe it was just a guess. Or there was some other poor bastard named 'Thompson' here that he was mistaken for or- no, the more he thinks about it the more it bothers him. Not as though that's a particularly difficult task, especially these days, but still. It's probably better to keep his mouth shut.

So of course he dug himself further into a whole, boot scuffing against the floor as his eyebrows furrowed into a suspicious glare. "How'd you get my name, anyway?" Nobody recognised him in all the previous places he took, right? He was sure he'd have receive some sort of notice or police presence by now if that was the case.

[prospectorquinn]

"I know all of my workers." The man stated coldly, it was clear that there was not a lick of doubt in his statement. He continued, "You are not one of them. let's try again. Why are you in my mines, Mr. Thompson?"

[everyday-violence]

…Okay! Shit. He got the feeling the old bastard wasn't going to be dropping this so easily, even once he left the mine. That was okay, he could withstand a fight- verbal, physical, but… legal? Financial? …He'd figure it out if it came to that. Dead men couldn't sue, after all. Still. Something about the geezer… unsettled him. That unrelenting stare, the way he just- knew his name- maybe this place was getting to him.

It's not as though he can just admit 'I wanted to sneak in and cause a horrific workplace accident that injures or kills multiple people'. Well- he could, but again, that was just a one-way ticket to prison.

C'mon, Thompson, not like it's the first time somebody's recognised you don't belong. Just… play it off. Respond with all the 'I don't give a shit' attitude of an ordinary worker just trying to get through the day. It's not as though he ever held much respect or care for authority to begin with. It helped that he generally held that sort of attitude by default- he wasn't the best of liars or actors, in all honesty. What is it they say- play to your strengths, and all that? Being a grouchy ass could turn out useful sometimes it turned out. Surely the old bastard had better things to do than interrogate someone who clearly wasn't going to be providing any useful answers- right? "Like you said, got a little lost was all." It's hard to brush off accusation of wrongdoing when he's wearing a stolen uniform, though, so he tries to correct, add on something to make a bit more sense. "I'm new… Maybe the files just haven't been updated? Not like I'd know." He dismisses with a careless shrug. Just a management mistake, just a 'sent to the wrong mine' issue, just nothing to worry about. He glances about, trying to find a potential exit in case he had to make a run for it.

[prospectorquinn]

"Lying to a potential employer is not the correct route, Mr. Thompson." "I am going to ask one more time, simply because I want to hear you say it aloud. What are you doing in the mine." Henry realized that the man was not asking a question, merely a statement, but nevertheless he felt the need to answer, as if it was being forced out of his own mouth, choking on his answer as he felt the pressure of it.

[ashesoflovelonglost]

Samuel is suddenly hit with an awful feeling, a feeling of thousands of eyes on him, all waiting expectantly. The pressure of it all is almost too much to bear.

…The- The hell are you looking at?

[prospectorquinn]

"Hopefully a firebringer in need of a job."

A voice from behind Samuel, as he turns to see an old man in a dirtied brown/red pinstripe suit. The man reeks of importance, as he stands straight with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes drill holes in Samuel's head, a sharp gaze that could only be from an eyevitar. "Oscar Quinn, at your service."

[ashesoflovelonglost]

He jumped

“And why the hell are you here?”

His eyes burned with an unnatural anger.

[prospectorquinn]

"Calm yourself, Samuel. I mean no harm, as long as you cooperate."

The man is unconcerned, whether due to a misunderstanding of power or that he truly believes he cannot be hurt, nobody knows.

[ashesoflovelonglost]

Samuel is suddenly hit with an awful feeling, a feeling of thousands of eyes on him, all waiting expectantly. The pressure of it all is almost too much to bear.

…The- The hell are you looking at?

[prospectorquinn]

"Hopefully a firebringer in need of a job."

A voice from behind Samuel, as he turns to see an old man in a dirtied brown/red pinstripe suit. The man reeks of importance, as he stands straight with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes drill holes in Samuel's head, a sharp gaze that could only be from an eyevitar. "Oscar Quinn, at your service."

[prospectorquinn]

There was a man who did not belong in the mines. He was doing an alright enough job at looking as though he did- picking up one of the miner's outfits somewhere, the clothing lightly tattered and covered with dust and dirt. His sunglasses had been tucked away, leaving his face feeling unusually exposed- not that it mattered. It was dark down here, and dusty, he could already feel the earthly grime pressing in around him as he walked down the tunnels in steel-cap boots. Something about this place made him uneasy- he wasn't sure what it was. He'd snuck into a variety of places, all sorts of work, he might not have gone into mining before, but he'd been in similar-ish spaces. So why did this place make him uneasy?

He dismissed it- probably nothing. Just a lack of sleep setting him on-edge or some other such bullshit. Nothing to get worked up about.

Just a simple job, there was sure to be many things he could do here. Something to give a little scare- a startle. Something to disrupt the simple routine of the day, to ease the violent yearning within his blood. A sigh escaped him as he took pause, leaning against a wall, gripping the bottom of his face with one scarred hand, closing his eyes for a moment before opening once more to shoot a glare at one of the cameras- how many cameras did one guy need? Probably just a safety measure, he imagined, though it struck him as odd considering how… lacklustre the other safety measures or lack thereof seemed. The people here seemed uneasy- it was no wonder he could slip in with such ease. He probably didn't even need to take one of their uniforms, tch. Whatever, too fucking late now. He grumbled beneath his breath as he kicked off against the wall, ready to go find somebody.

"…Shit." Something definitely wasn't right here. Maybe he should've thought twice before coming here. @everyday-violence

Henry may try to whisper to one of the employees, ask them what was going on in this place, but none would answer, only stopping their work to glance at the cameras, likely looking for the red button that said it was active - which is always was - or to check their watch. This particular mine was a coal mine, and an older one at that, so Henry wasn't too surprised when he heard a chirping bird from deeper in the cave, but nevertheless he felt implored to investigate. As he wandered deeper into the cave he found himself in a large open area, lit only by a lantern or two. There were no workers in this part of the cave, clearly all being up closer to the surface in case of a cave-in, as this chamber was clearly unstable. In the center of the chamber lied a single yellow bird, a canary, lying on its back, not breathing.

[everyday-violence]

Talk about a hostile work environment- he'd seen people get into fights- had sparked fights between people, but that didn't compare to the… tension here. He didn't like it. Those creepy cameras certainly weren't helping either. It felt like they were watching him specifically, glaring a hole right through his back- like they knew, like they were aware he was intruding, trespassing. Which was a load of shit, really- he doubted the security guards were paying that much attention, and even if they were, he doubted they knew the workers enough to know there was one more than there was supposed to be. Maybe.

Whatever. He needed to hurry up with this. Not like he wanted to spend his entire fucking day in a damn mine. (Not like he had much better to do- though at least if he started a bar fight he'd get some drinks out of it. Here the air was dryer than any alcohol.)

His eyebrows furrowed when he entered the chamber- squinting at the fragile support pillars. "Fuckin' wankers…" Why wasn't this place boarded up? Even if they did have plans to use it later, they ought to at least put a temporary measure to make sure no dumbass went and got lost in the wrong part of the cave. This was just a failure on multiple accounts, did seriously not one person bother to do anything about this?

He scoffed, shaking his head as he took step after step further in, though he couldn't help but to feel hesitant. A cave-in certainly didn't sound particularly pleasant to him either. And- he grimaced, peering down at the bird. Was that the thing he'd heard chirping earlier? Certainly didn't look like it'd be chirping again anytime soon. He almost felt bad for it, kinda.

Suddenly, he stopped, about half-way to the bird. Weren't these things meant to detect poison, or something? Natural gas, or what-not? An explosion should do nicely. He slapped a hand across his nose and mouth. This was a stupid fucking idea. He should've left the moment he saw there weren't any humans down here.

Can he even die? He's already did so once- but his heart continued pumping now regardless- albeit a little less than it probably should. Honestly? Probably best not to risk finding out the answer to that question. He should leave. Maybe cause some trouble on the upper levels, but either way he needed to get out of this room.

[prospectorquinn]

When Henry turns back again, he is confused, as where he had entered the chamber, a large rocky entryway, had suddenly vanished, no cave-in or anything similar, simply nothing but thick dirt and rock. When he turns again, the bird is gone, but standing on the other side of the chamber is an older man, clearly in charge. He looks like he has been down there for ages, his skin pale, his clothes dirtied, especially around the ankles, clearly having kicked up some dust on his way down. The man looked at Henry with contempt, as if he had already made up his mind that he wasn't even worth talking to. "It seems you have gotten lost, is that correct Mr. Thompson?"

The man's voice is deep and commanding, and for a moment Henry truly believes that he was, indeed, just lost, before remembering suddenly, that he had not told the man his name.

[everyday-violence]

The sheer… weirdness of the whole situation shocks him into silence for a moment, gears turning as he tries to figure- or at least process what it is that's going on. Trapped, the way he came in just covered up as though it were never there to begin with. There had to be an exit somewhere though, surely? Bird gone, old man who appeared as though he should be in an office with paperwork- he never did like those upper management sorts, but it wasn't as though they liked him either, just like this prick clearly seemed to demonstrate with that disdainful gaze. He got the feeling he was out of his depth here- how did he know his name? Everything about this was weird- wrong. Just who the fuck was this guy?!

His hands itched, and he lifted the one from his mouth to instead run it through his hair as he sighed deeply, trying to ease the irritation that sparked up at the sheer condescension this man radiated. Pompous ass, it was surprising somebody with such a smug attitude didn't seem to mind being covered in dirt and dust from head to toe.

Maybe he should be vague about it- don't admit to any wrongdoing and all that shit… Tapping his fingers against his thigh, he grumbled out a response. "'dunno. Am I? Not like there were any fu-" He cuts himself off, clearing his throat to try and cover the swear. He's been scolded one too many times about 'appropriate workplace language' to bear hearing it again. In general, his attitude wasn't one many took to fondly, but generally his work made up for it- and if it didn't, well, it wasn't as though they ever got to see him again to keep complaining about it. "Any signs or anything." If there were though, he certainly wasn't paying attention.

He- maybe it was just a guess. Or there was some other poor bastard named 'Thompson' here that he was mistaken for or- no, the more he thinks about it the more it bothers him. Not as though that's a particularly difficult task, especially these days, but still. It's probably better to keep his mouth shut.

So of course he dug himself further into a whole, boot scuffing against the floor as his eyebrows furrowed into a suspicious glare. "How'd you get my name, anyway?" Nobody recognised him in all the previous places he took, right? He was sure he'd have receive some sort of notice or police presence by now if that was the case.

[prospectorquinn]

"I know all of my workers." The man stated coldly, it was clear that there was not a lick of doubt in his statement. He continued, "You are not one of them. let's try again. Why are you in my mines, Mr. Thompson?"

[child-of-the-vast]

Why are all you eye avatars such freaks (not you El, I love you El)

[prospectorquinn]

"Because they are all nosy pricks."

[prospectorquinn]

Open starter

A man sits in an old bar, fancy little hole-in-the-wall place, nursing a brown-ish drink in his hands. He sits alone, reading out of an old leatherbound book. Other than him, the bar is entirely empty, not a patron or employee in sight. He's reading bits out loud, in a hushed whisper, loud enough to hear him talking, not loud enough to make out what it is.

[squelchyrubbershoe]

Victims of Other Entities: And so I watched the creature that used to be my wife sprint towards me on all fours with its neck bent at a full 180 degree angle. I only got away because it tripped and fell into the lit fireplace and turned to ash immediately. I don’t sleep anymore and I honestly wish God just would kill me already.

Victims of The Buried: God I ffucnking LOVE Dirt. OOh Boy that Shit is GOOD. No Thing on this God Forsaken planet brings me more EUPHORIA than Digging a B I G Hole. I crawl on all fours and c l a w at the e a r th as I pine for its tender Embrace. It torments my VERY SOUL that I cannot simply i n h a l e it Straight Into My Bloodstream. I’ve decided that eating fistfuls of potting soil is the next best thing.

[initial-lime]

Op is this about me, if this is about me op that’s okay, as the #1 buried fan this is how I aspire to run my blog, please god put me in the ground already nothing else matters

[prospectorquinn]

There was a man who did not belong in the mines. He was doing an alright enough job at looking as though he did- picking up one of the miner's outfits somewhere, the clothing lightly tattered and covered with dust and dirt. His sunglasses had been tucked away, leaving his face feeling unusually exposed- not that it mattered. It was dark down here, and dusty, he could already feel the earthly grime pressing in around him as he walked down the tunnels in steel-cap boots. Something about this place made him uneasy- he wasn't sure what it was. He'd snuck into a variety of places, all sorts of work, he might not have gone into mining before, but he'd been in similar-ish spaces. So why did this place make him uneasy?

He dismissed it- probably nothing. Just a lack of sleep setting him on-edge or some other such bullshit. Nothing to get worked up about.

Just a simple job, there was sure to be many things he could do here. Something to give a little scare- a startle. Something to disrupt the simple routine of the day, to ease the violent yearning within his blood. A sigh escaped him as he took pause, leaning against a wall, gripping the bottom of his face with one scarred hand, closing his eyes for a moment before opening once more to shoot a glare at one of the cameras- how many cameras did one guy need? Probably just a safety measure, he imagined, though it struck him as odd considering how… lacklustre the other safety measures or lack thereof seemed. The people here seemed uneasy- it was no wonder he could slip in with such ease. He probably didn't even need to take one of their uniforms, tch. Whatever, too fucking late now. He grumbled beneath his breath as he kicked off against the wall, ready to go find somebody.

"…Shit." Something definitely wasn't right here. Maybe he should've thought twice before coming here. @everyday-violence

Henry may try to whisper to one of the employees, ask them what was going on in this place, but none would answer, only stopping their work to glance at the cameras, likely looking for the red button that said it was active - which is always was - or to check their watch. This particular mine was a coal mine, and an older one at that, so Henry wasn't too surprised when he heard a chirping bird from deeper in the cave, but nevertheless he felt implored to investigate. As he wandered deeper into the cave he found himself in a large open area, lit only by a lantern or two. There were no workers in this part of the cave, clearly all being up closer to the surface in case of a cave-in, as this chamber was clearly unstable. In the center of the chamber lied a single yellow bird, a canary, lying on its back, not breathing.

[everyday-violence]

Talk about a hostile work environment- he'd seen people get into fights- had sparked fights between people, but that didn't compare to the… tension here. He didn't like it. Those creepy cameras certainly weren't helping either. It felt like they were watching him specifically, glaring a hole right through his back- like they knew, like they were aware he was intruding, trespassing. Which was a load of shit, really- he doubted the security guards were paying that much attention, and even if they were, he doubted they knew the workers enough to know there was one more than there was supposed to be. Maybe.

Whatever. He needed to hurry up with this. Not like he wanted to spend his entire fucking day in a damn mine. (Not like he had much better to do- though at least if he started a bar fight he'd get some drinks out of it. Here the air was dryer than any alcohol.)

His eyebrows furrowed when he entered the chamber- squinting at the fragile support pillars. "Fuckin' wankers…" Why wasn't this place boarded up? Even if they did have plans to use it later, they ought to at least put a temporary measure to make sure no dumbass went and got lost in the wrong part of the cave. This was just a failure on multiple accounts, did seriously not one person bother to do anything about this?

He scoffed, shaking his head as he took step after step further in, though he couldn't help but to feel hesitant. A cave-in certainly didn't sound particularly pleasant to him either. And- he grimaced, peering down at the bird. Was that the thing he'd heard chirping earlier? Certainly didn't look like it'd be chirping again anytime soon. He almost felt bad for it, kinda.

Suddenly, he stopped, about half-way to the bird. Weren't these things meant to detect poison, or something? Natural gas, or what-not? An explosion should do nicely. He slapped a hand across his nose and mouth. This was a stupid fucking idea. He should've left the moment he saw there weren't any humans down here.

Can he even die? He's already did so once- but his heart continued pumping now regardless- albeit a little less than it probably should. Honestly? Probably best not to risk finding out the answer to that question. He should leave. Maybe cause some trouble on the upper levels, but either way he needed to get out of this room.

[prospectorquinn]

When Henry turns back again, he is confused, as where he had entered the chamber, a large rocky entryway, had suddenly vanished, no cave-in or anything similar, simply nothing but thick dirt and rock. When he turns again, the bird is gone, but standing on the other side of the chamber is an older man, clearly in charge. He looks like he has been down there for ages, his skin pale, his clothes dirtied, especially around the ankles, clearly having kicked up some dust on his way down. The man looked at Henry with contempt, as if he had already made up his mind that he wasn't even worth talking to. "It seems you have gotten lost, is that correct Mr. Thompson?"

The man's voice is deep and commanding, and for a moment Henry truly believes that he was, indeed, just lost, before remembering suddenly, that he had not told the man his name.

[prospectorquinn]

h111111 r0ck m4n!! :) wh4t 15 th3 t4st1e5t r0ck???

I feel inclined to say salt. Although I wouldn't be surprised to catch what seems to be a spiral creature licking rocks.

[eyeglass-violist]

>> OOC

i want to say (and i’m gonna reblog this to all my rp blogs) y’all are more than welcome to dm me on here for literally anything !! i might be dry sometimes but i PROMISE i don’t bite, whether it’s for lore ideas, interactions, one on one rp, or gen even just to say hi or send me posts i do NOT careee!! interact with me!!

[burned-at-the-edges]

I can confirm it doesn’t bite!!! Very friendly guys :> !!!

[prospectorquinn]

//ME TOO ON ALL OF MY RP BLOGS!!

[miguel-slater]

OOC: Same here they’re not busy at all I promise

[prospectorquinn]

//side note watch your back you blue writing brit you are getting another statement soon

[eyeglass-violist]

>> OOC

i want to say (and i’m gonna reblog this to all my rp blogs) y’all are more than welcome to dm me on here for literally anything !! i might be dry sometimes but i PROMISE i don’t bite, whether it’s for lore ideas, interactions, one on one rp, or gen even just to say hi or send me posts i do NOT careee!! interact with me!!

[burned-at-the-edges]

I can confirm it doesn’t bite!!! Very friendly guys :> !!!

[prospectorquinn]

//ME TOO ON ALL OF MY RP BLOGS!!