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Post by Ansigar Hartwig on Mar 16, 2011 22:45:44 GMT -5
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As the clock strikes midnight, the world stills, an ominous green light as normal. At first all his still and quiet, or at least as quiet as it can be with ravenous monsters lurking outside the safety of the dorm walls, but after a while, one by one all of the televisions in the building flicker on, crackling with static. It’s a strange phenomenon, yes, but nothing changes after a few minutes, and it appears that it’s absolutely nothing to be concerned about.
However, under the hissing and popping, there seems to be a faint few notes of what could perhaps be a song. At first it is too quiet to catch, but as time wears on it grows more and more distinct. Slowly the fuzz begins to clear, and the music grows louder and louder. A blurry, dark figure begins to appear from the chaos, hazy and hard to define, but as time wears on, you are able to make out that it is probably a man, and that he is sitting by himself in the middle of a large, empty room. The source of the music is, not surprisingly, from him, as in his hands he holds a small, white flute that seems to be roughly hewn from either wood or bone.
He is playing the instrument with surprising skill, and seems utterly oblivious to the fact that the entire populous of the dormitory could feasibly be watching him. Indeed, he seems utterly consumed with his playing, and though his face is shrouded in shadow, it is almost possible to feel how hard he is concentrating.
As the last few notes of the song trail off, he slowly brings the flute down, looking at it in his hands for a minute. Everything is still, so still that it could be possible that the screen has frozen and the broadcast has ended, but there is a sharp crack that interrupts the silence, and the figure shifts again, this time a slow, rolling chuckle filling the emptiness as pieces of his instrument fall from his hands. The thing has been utterly shattered in his grip, but he seems to not even notice.
The laughter turns raucous as curiously yellow eyes turn, almost as if he is aware he is being watched. With nary a second thought the man stands, stalking over towards the camera, his figure blurring as he gets closer and closer. The picture is obscured for a few seconds, but a face slides into view, grinning wolfishly before the picture cuts out and everything goes black. [/blockquote] |
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Post by Ansigar Hartwig on Mar 16, 2011 22:46:40 GMT -5
 As you enter Tartarus, it is obvious that the entire place has been changed once again. Instead of within the massive structure, you find yourself standing at the entrance of what appears to be a rather large, rather dark, cave. A man is to your left, dressed in spelunking gear and crouched down to examine something on the ground. He looks oddly familiar….in fact, he almost looks like the man that you are attempting to save, but much younger and with a certain curious hunger deep within his teal eyes. As you stumble in he gives you a rather annoyed look, then goes back to his work, summarily ignoring you.
The entire place is damp, cold, and altogether unpleasant to trek through, not to mention it is large and expansive, making it easy to get lost. There are steep drops, narrow passageways, and large caverns, but as you make your way through, you see that scattered along the ground there seems to be quite a bit of refuse. Papers litter the ground, each filled with messy scrawlings of nigh unreadable handwriting. Of what is legible, it seems that the writing has to do with some sort of thesis, though the content is beyond your knowledge. As far as you can tell, it is something about these caves, and something about ancient ritual practices, but the rest is either too garbled, or too difficult, to understand.
The cave seems to expand forever, and it is more maze-like than would originally seem. There are dead ends, blocked passages, and it is generally confusing to navigate. However, you can hear noises from some of the more remote passageways, but you are not able to tell what is causing it. …that is unless you choose to go investigate. However, none of those passages lead to the exit, and so following the noises could be detrimental. Or perhaps it could lead to something fantastic, you have no way of knowing.
If you do manage to stumble around deep enough in the cave, you will come across the stairs, but good luck. If you don’t have a map, you could be there for quite some time. |
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Post by Ansigar Hartwig on Mar 16, 2011 22:59:16 GMT -5
 As you emerge from the stairway, your surroundings take a complete one eighty. Instead of the damp, cramped caves that you have been crawling through, this seems to be the interior of a very, very nice university building. The hallways are long and expansive, with classrooms and offices branching off. It seems that there are currently classes going on, as there are obvious people in the lecture pits, and you can hear the snippits of lectures as you walk by. Many of the rooms are empty, however, though if you wish to examine further, there is nothing stopping you. All in all, the area seems rather peaceful, though there is a sense of foreboding, though for what reason, you cannot entirely tell.
Just as before, this level seems massive. Its hallways are expansive, and there seem to be hundreds of rooms to explore. If you attempt to stop and ask for directions, you are summarily ignored by the inhabitants, and you feel as if you try to interrupt with the lectures, the consequences could be rather unpleasant. However, the stairs seem just out of reach at every point, and you cannot help but feel that you are missing something important. What it could be, you aren’t sure, but perhaps if you look around, it will become clear.
Near the end of the level there is an office marked “DR. HARTWIG, DEPARTMENT OF ARCHEOLOGY”, and there is the noise of obvious movement behind the door. Whether or not this is a good thing, is another question. [/blockquote] |
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Post by Ansigar Hartwig on Mar 16, 2011 23:12:40 GMT -5
 As you finish climbing the last few stairs, it is obvious that this level is radically different than the previous two. In front of you is merely a wall with a door in it, a small plaque upon it that states “14 B”. The door itself, surprisingly, is unlocked, and as you open it, you are greeted with the sight of just a simple, small apartment. All of the lights are out, and if you try the switches, it seems that the electricity has been shut off. As you make your way in, you emerge into the living room area, and it is plainly obvious that the entire place is sparsely furnished, though what is there is still rather nice and in taste. There are textbooks scattered across the floor in the living room, all with titles related to geology or archeology, and a plethora of notebooks and a single laptop that is locked when you try to access it. What seems to be odd though, is that scattered within the mess there seem to be a few children’s toys, perhaps for an older child, but they are few and far between.
The doors are locked if you try to open them, but the way to the kitchen is open, and when you make your way in, you are struck by two things. First, that there are drawings on the refrigerator that seem to have been done by perhaps the same small child who’s toys are in the living room. It seems odd for the nature of the apartment, because the entire place does not seem like a place for children, and would also seem to be an especially bad place to raise a family.
The second is that you are currently staring at a younger version of Ansigar.
The man is standing with his back to you, looking at the counter, but it obvious from the way that his shoulders are shaking that he is obviously distraught. The soft sound of a choked sob floats through the silence, and it seems that he isn’t even aware of your presence. Stay and try to talk to him or leave, it’s your choice. [/blockquote] |
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Francis Bonnefoy
New Member
When we dance you have a way with me. Stay with me. Sway with me.
Posts: 22
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Mar 17, 2011 0:15:01 GMT -5
It was a rare occurrence that Francis had arrived back to the dorms before midnight on his nights out. However plans with the local bakery girl had fallen though, and he was forced to leave early. It was silly how this turned into an incredible stroke of luck. Francis had rushed inside careful to one be inside before the dark hour started and two to not wake a soul up. After all he couldn't very well disturb anyone's beauty rest.
Just as he clicked the door shut the dark hour struck, however, it was off. So terribly off, just like his own turn and Maria's. Francis was in front of the tv in mere seconds. His expensive prada bag forgotten in the corner and flown god knows where. He could only hope he was wrong. That not another one of his friends was trapped in that terrible, horrid world. That not another person he cared about would be in such pain. Though, the end result, Francis had to admit, was liberation.
The tv turned to static right in front of him, and his heart froze at the sound of the flute. There was only one person he knew who had anything important to do with a flute, and then when the picture cleared is when his frozen heart dropped. Why? Why him? Why Ansigar of all people? He was so strong, however, maybe Francis put too much blind faith in the man's strength. Everyone had secrets to hide, everyone had a favored mask, Francis knew that much. Perhaps he just wished to believe that Ansigar was just as strong as he put up though. Francis was pulled from his thoughts when the figure on the screen broke the flute. Oh Francis could only pray it wasn't the actual flute. It was a treasure, it was old, it was precious to Ansigar, it was irreplaceable. And then there was that laugh, it froze Francis in place and he could do nothing but stare at the tv until the skin went black. That feral grin of his friend's permanently etched into his brain.
It took him a few seconds to react. However the moment he was on his feet he was in the closet. He tossed the incredibly sturdy bag filled with all things medical and to do with the dark hour over his shoulder and at the same time grabbed his rapier. He was out the door in a matter of seconds. His lean body having no problem maneuvering quickly towards the entrance of the cave. Oh gosh, he could only hope that is where he meant to go. Perhaps, had Ansigar not been as close to Francis as he was, the French man may have spared a moment for thought. May have even thought about waking up the entire building to go after their teacher. But, Ansigar was dear to him, and Francis thus, was not thinking so clearly. It wasn't long before he found the entrance to the cave and for a moment he stood there panting, bent over with his hands on his knees. He acknowledged the figure to the right of him. However, he already knew it couldn't possibly be the man he was looking for. No, it would be too good to be true. He sighed. Should he talk to him, or not?
Just please be okay.
[/blockquote] Notes: fuuu sorry, rushed because I'm leaving soon I think. Music: I feel better- Hot Chip Extra: Illluuuuuuu
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Post by Matthew Williams on Mar 18, 2011 19:38:23 GMT -5
Like every night, Matthew had sat in the basement and waited for everyone to return to the dorm. That ritual he had adopted at home when waiting for his father to come back. However, as of late, he had taken to not sleeping as much as he should have. Instead, tossing and turning at night wondering about who was going to be next.
His body almost cried out for him to go to bed, and thus he did at a rather decent time. The other presence in the room making it somehow more comforting and easier to sleep. When the electronic alarm clock in his room turned, reading '0:00' before slowly fading out; the Dark Hour had officially begun.
Matt had been deep into slumber-land that night, but when the T.V. flickered on he immediately woke up. The cracking and staticy noise un-pleasant to his ears. The Canadian turned on his side to stare lazily at the T.V. on his desk before looking at his clock. It hadn't completely registered in his mind as he stared at the clock that it was turned off, instead imagining that it was maybe one or two in the morning.
He stood there, frozen once the man came into focus and he realized who it was.
'S-sir?!'
Having gone through this twice now, Matthew carefully got out of bed as to not wake the other. He gathered his belongings, running through his mind what could possibly await inside the school tonight. Before gently and quietly shutting the door behind him.
In all honesty, he had been afraid of Ansigar for a majority of the time that he had spent in the dorms. However, the man had shown to be not as intimidating as originally thought. Even if he still did...Matthew wouldn't hesitate to go save him. So, he ran as fast as he could to the area, taking in the cave surroundings upon entrance. He noticed a familiar man standing within, walking up and placing a nervous hand on Francis's shoulder.
"I-is that him?" He asked, looking at the child in the cave. [/blockquote] |
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Post by Berwald "Sven" Oxenstierna on Mar 19, 2011 21:24:06 GMT -5
The thing about having four younger siblings was that one never slept alone. For as long as he could remember, there had always been a nightmare, or too much energy, or gods forbid an upset stomach, between Berwald and an uninterrupted night's rest.
The problem was that, because of this, Berwald had never learned how to sleep by himself, and now that he was on his own, in a completely different country, understandably the Swede had been having issues getting any rest at all since his arrival. That had begun to change as of recently, as a number of his dormmates seemed to have taken to crawling in with him at night recently -- sometimes even more than one at once, depending on how poorly the night's battle had gone.
Tonight, however, was one of a long line of fairly peaceful ones, and being worn out from his part-time job, Berwald decided to turn the tables this evening and crawl into someone else's bed for once, drifting off while awaiting its regular occupant.
It was not the other, but the other's accursed noisebox that woke him, although the other didn't seem to notice that he too was watching the broadcast. The man on the screen was most assuredly Sir; however, seeing that the other appeared to be set on not waking him, Berwald waited until the younger blond had left before getting up to ready himself, dressing in his hunting attire and strapping his sword to his back before heading out the door.
Upon his arrival at the mouth of the cave, as he stepped just past Matthew and Francis, Berwald took care to study the surroundings with all of his senses, saying nothing.
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Post by Ansigar Hartwig on Mar 20, 2011 15:28:10 GMT -5
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Despite all of the initial hesitation and shock and whathaveyou, the entrance to the cave remains just that: an entrance to a cave. There are no fancy tricks, no sudden shadow attacks, nothing. There seem to be no hungry shadows around, nothing that could possibly be construed as dangerous, and frankly, it all seems rather out of place for something constructed during the Dark Hour. The noise of everybody’s approach, however, does cause the figure to stir, and he stands, turning in order to face the party head on with a rather audible sigh.
“I can hear you, you know,” he huffs and stands, looking over with a rather familiar expression of annoyance, fixing his glare on Matthew. From the look of things, he probably isn’t much older than the rest of the party, mid twenties at the most, and while he is indeed covered in dirt and dust, familiar long blond hair and that condescending look make it all too clear that this is…perhaps the man that you are all attempting to find? Perhaps. Maybe. It’s hard to tell. Teal eyes stare coolly at you over the top of his glasses, and he regards the party with an impartial stare. “…what are you doing here anyways? This is a closed site.”
While not overtly hostile, you do get the sense that he is rather angry with you, much moreso than his demeanor lets on. Time is ticking, and from his expression, the longer that you bother him, the less likely he is to be understanding to your situation.
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[OOC: Alright, I'll be popping in occasionally to have the environment react to your choices. It's up to you three whether or not you want to keep your posting order right now, or if you want to work out who reacts to what when things appear. <3] [/center] |
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Francis Bonnefoy
New Member
When we dance you have a way with me. Stay with me. Sway with me.
Posts: 22
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Mar 21, 2011 15:29:23 GMT -5
It was an odd feeling of relief that washed over him when Francis heard the other two approach. He was perhaps, just a little surprised at who it was though. Francis had never asked who Ansigar talked to besides him, did he? He had always assumed many, if not everyone in the dorm was afraid of the Germanic man besides Francis himself. Still, he glanced over his shoulder to offer the two a small smile. It was a relief though, to have people he knew and trusted at his side. Francis knew how strong they were. What was he thinking going out by himself anyway. He's a healer, hell, he had what, one, or two attacks? Not to mention his physical wasn't all that good either. Perhaps he could have ran blindly through the dungeons and healed himself every five seconds. What would he have done about the big beasty at the end though? How foolish. It was literally a life saver to see the two behind him.
At Matthew's question he shook his head. "Non, z'at would just be too easy." His eyes turned back to the approaching man. It was an odd thing, to see Ansigar younger then Francis was used to, after all the way he acted one would figure he was born old. He forced himself not to smile at his own musing. After all, he wasn't sure what manor of shadow he was dealing with. Even his manor of speaking, and even sighing as he did made him seem more childish. What a peculiar thing.
Francis stepped forward, wanting to be first to deal with him. One hand raised to his own chest, motioning towards himself. "Bonjour," A warm tone. "I am Francis Bonnefoy. " Would this Ansigar know who he was? Perhaps, the shadows know everything the person knew didn't they? However, this Ansigar didn't greet them as even acquaintances, even in his normal gruff tone. "We are sorry to intrude, 'owever we 'ave lost someone dear to us." A twinge of pain in his heart. "We z'ought we might find 'im 'ere." He could only hope the other's would play along. Perhaps this shadow would not hurt them.
[/blockquote] Music: I'll Eat You Up- BoA Notes: Derp derp n/a |
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Post by Matthew Williams on Mar 22, 2011 14:10:01 GMT -5
"Right, of course."
Matthew let out a sigh. It was wishful thinking on his part, of course. But he held out a little hope that maybe this would be easy. He noticed Sven walk past and offered him a small, apologetic smile. Apparently, his attempts at leaving undetected didn't work. While he was watching the taller man go sniffing about, Matthew was caught off guard when the younger version of Sir turned to look at the party. He had not anticipated the shadow to actually retort.
"I-I'm sorry, didn't mean to talk about you like you weren't here." he instantly yelped out in a somewhat quiet voice. Just like when Sir would say something or offer one of his trade-mark stares; Matthew sunk a little, stepping behind Francis and hiding most of his body there.
He listened to Francis talk for a bit, before saying his own name and going along with the French man. "I-I'm Matthew Williams." Matthew just nodded at everything Francis was saying, the same words also running through his mind. Somewhere else in the back of his mind, he was wondering why this shadow hadn't attacked them yet.
"You haven't seen him, h-have you?" he inquired quietly after. [/blockquote] OOC: Irk, crappy post! Was trying to get this out before going to work and my brain was drawing blanks. I'm sorry![/i] |
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Post by Berwald "Sven" Oxenstierna on Mar 25, 2011 4:59:27 GMT -5
It was no use. No matter how far he went -- not that he could go far; he didn't like the idea of leaving Matthew and Francis by themselves in case a fight came up -- the only thing he could seem to track was the Sir at the mouth of the cave, talking to the others. There had to be something in the depths, no matter how harmless it appeared on the surface, and just the same as with Sir, it would do none of them any good to lower their guard.
Berwald adjusted his glasses, keeping an eye on the innards of the cave while listening to the exchange going on nearby. He had never been terribly good with words, so it was more likely than not that if he did choose to speak up, he would only cause trouble. This was Sir, he was certain of it; however, it was not their Sir, the Sir they had come here looking for. As far as Berwald was concerned, it was probably best they go on their way and continue their search.
But since when did anyone listen to him? Anytime he said anything, especially don't open the door or stay here where it's safe no one ever listened. It was as if the whole lot of them wanted to die, wanted to get hurt. It was infuriating sometimes. Like now -- what on earth was Francis thinking, the way he fought? Or tried to? Yes, Sir was precious to him, but the least he could have done was wake someone who could actually take more than one hit without going down. If Matthew hadn't woken, if he hadn't woken, both Sir and Francis might have been lost.
Berwald shifted his stance, itching to move on. If they didn't hurry, Sir could still be lost, regardless of whether they were here.
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Post by Ansigar Hartwig on Mar 25, 2011 10:54:46 GMT -5
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The man merely stares, unamused, for a moment before shaking his head and muttering something that sounds vaguely derogatory under his breath. There is a vague hint of amusement in his eyes as he continues to stare at Matthew, almost summarily ignoring what Francis has to say in favor of apparently seeing how uncomfortable he can make the younger blond. In fact, you get the distinct sense that he is purposely not paying attention, and that he is unimpressed by all the flattery.
“Well suck it up,” comes a curt reply as he places one hand on the cave wall, obviously much more interested in the non-sentient rock than the party. “Doesn’t surprise me that you lose things, kid. Not like you do much else, aside from miss class and cling to people.”
With a barely audible sigh, he clenches his hand, fingers digging deep gouges into the stone beneath his palm. As far as you can tell, there is absolutely nothing abnormal about the cave wall (looking beyond the fact that it was created by the internal angst of a nearly forty year old man during a time when fabled monsters suddenly appear and attack anyone who hasn’t turned into a coffin), and the fact that the gesture doesn’t seem to be any sort of posturing, rather instead just a simple afterthought, hints at the fact that the man may not be as harmless as he appears, even if he is not outwardly hostile.
“And of course you did, don’t lie,” his attention is back on Matthew, the annoyed look returning. The man pauses, scoffing at the thought before turning his gaze on Sven, the barest ghost of a grin tugging at his lps. “At least the one that’s at least got balls isn’t dicking around out here.” A pause. “He’s going to wander until he dies, but at least he’s not trying to kiss up.”
Another huff, and he rolls his eyes, apparently lost in thought. “You’re all so fixated on what’s inside? Of course they went through, that’s where we came from. Frankly, it’s nice to be away from the rest of them so that I can get my work done. If you really want to go and find them, be my guest.”
He kneels down, reaching over for a dust-covered backpack that is lying a few feet away and digs through it, entirely more focused on his task than on the party. After a moment he draws out two things, then stands again, thrusting what appears to be a rather dingy looking rolled up paper in the general direction of Matthew and Francis. “There. If you’re going to die, at least it’ll be from your own fuckups, not from anything that can weigh on the conscience.”
As an afterthought, he offers the second object, one of the textbooks from Ansigar’s own class strangely enough, to Sven with what could almost be construed as a guilty expression….almost, if there wasn’t a hint of a glare to accompany it. “…we burned yours that last time the monsters came around and felt bad. Don’t fail.”
And with that he is gone, dissolving into black ooze, just like any common shadow when it is killed, both items falling to the ground.
The map is actually rather well drawn out, with various rooms and passages labeled, including the passageway to the stairs to the next level. There are some areas that have been scratched out in black ink, with notes that they have caved in, while there are other areas that seem to have been recently drawn in, noting that they are new discoveries. There is one large room that is circled several times, and the notes next to it, as far as you can tell from your limited understanding of German, read something along the lines of ”Here there be dragons”. However, the rest of the notes seem to indicate that there is something very, very desirable in this room as well, the shadow just never managed to retrieve it.
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[OOC: Alright, I'm giving you guys free reign for now. I'll pop in occasionally if you run into anything.] [/center] |
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Francis Bonnefoy
New Member
When we dance you have a way with me. Stay with me. Sway with me.
Posts: 22
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Mar 28, 2011 17:50:03 GMT -5
Francis was not used to being ignored. Francis Bonnefoy was never ignored. So it came as quite a painful shock when Ansigar's shadow had done exactly that. Shadows didn't hide things, shadows didn't mess around with pleasantries. Perhaps, Francis had read everything about the man wrong. Perhaps, Ansigar really disliked him. It was a sobering thought, and it slumped the frenchman's shoulders just a bit. Perhaps their every interaction had simply been because he was Ansigar's student, or maybe because he waited on him a bit. Francis took to pursing his lip, and just waited for the shadow to finish talking. However he did stand protectively in front of Matthieu. So what if his petty feelings were hurt? All of this, might be the fault of his rash action anyway. Too much playing, too much teasing can drive one over the edge, and he seemed to do just that to germania. He drove him over the edge.
Sure that kiss may have made him happy. It may have stroked his ego to have such a man as Ansigar kiss him, but at what cost? He sighs a bit as the shadow dug through the bag pulling out the two objects. Clear blue eyes kept on the shadows hands, refusing to be caught off guard. A rolled up piece of paper-- a map maybe, and a book? The map wasn't such an odd thing he supposed, however the book. Just, what was the shadow of a past Ansigar doing with a book from present Ansigar's classroom? Shadows sure were odd, and didn't pay attention to time-lines. The Frenchman was sure if he payed too much thought to this, it'd only give him a headache.
It was disgusting how the shadow melted into the black ooze after it finished talking. He fiddled with the flap on his shoulder bag before taking a step closer and bending down. Slender fingers poking the rolled up paper once, twice before finally picking it up. Delicately he spread the paper open, taking in the information it provided. Eyes glanced upwards, looking at the figures around him. "I z'ink, z'at we s'ould go 'ere." His finger pointed at the circled room. He lightly bit at the inside of his cheek, weighing the pros and cons of doing so. On one hand, there was something the shadow obviously wanted in there, on the other, it was probably the most dangerous out of the rooms. After all, nothing was easy. Nothing. Would it be worth trying to find out what the shadow wanted?
[/blockquote] |
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Post by Matthew Williams on Mar 28, 2011 19:24:29 GMT -5
Matthew sunk visibly, taking in what Ansigar had just said to him. And in his mind he thought about it and thought about it, coming to the realization that it was indeed the truth. He did tend to cling to people that he held dear, maybe a little too much so...
The Canadian was struggling, trying to think of something to retort back with at the shadow. Anything at all. However, he just couldn't pull any words out of that head of his. Instead, he remained silent and continued to stand there behind Francis. Feeling a little guilty that the shadow called him out on his lie.
While Matthew lied often, and often very badly, his apologies were sincere. He never once apologized to someone without meaning it (no matter how often he sputtered them out.) It was strange, but he felt himself upset at the fact that the shadow had been so annoyed with him.
He watched Ansigar's shadow dissolve in front of his eyes, standing his ground and waiting for someone to make a move. After Francis had finally done so, he walked up right next to him and peered down at the map in the man's hands.
"M-Maybe we should look around a bit first, j-just in case." Matthew stuttered out, looking around the cave once more and then back down at the map. "Wh-what happens if we get there and something bad happens? If we look around, then we can know where to go if things get too rough."
He looks deeper into the cave where Sven is, "What do you think?" [/blockquote] |
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Post by Berwald "Sven" Oxenstierna on Mar 30, 2011 15:45:30 GMT -5
Berwald gave the slightest flinch as the Shadow dissolved, catching the book before it could touch the ground and looking at it with a slightly saddened expression. He remembered that night clearly, recalled how absurdly long it had been, thought of how difficult it all had been. How ironic, and perhaps appropriate, that the four of them should be tied again into this. The Swede had noticed the guilt in the shade of his teacher, and found it peculiar; if anyone had to apologize between them, it was Berwald, not Sir. He'd thrown the man across a room by his hair, for gods' sake. Regardless of the situation, that wasn't something he could easily forgive himself for.
With a sigh, Berwald carefully put the book into his satchel, looking over at the others and adjusting his stance again. The Shadow had helped them; this wasn't terribly normal for a Shadow, but then, Sir wasn't exactly a normal sort of fellow.
He shouldn't have been surprised when the Canadian asked for his opinion on the matter, but he was; when it came to the Dark Hour, he had a tendency to be overlooked as far as strategy went, no matter how much he observed.
"If Sir gave 's a map, we sh'ld follow it," he replied, glancing back into the cave. "We don' have time t'..." he cleared his throat briefly, remembering the shade's words "...dick around, think 'e said."
Strange terminology, but he supposed the meaning was clear enough. Sir wasn't one to dawdle, and neither was Berwald; the sooner they found Sir and got out, the happier everybody would be.
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Francis Bonnefoy
New Member
When we dance you have a way with me. Stay with me. Sway with me.
Posts: 22
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Apr 2, 2011 20:32:56 GMT -5
“You are right…. ‘owever, so is Matthieu.” He sighed a bit, shoulders drooping. “We s’all be no use to Ansigar dead.” Blue eyes scanned over the map, taking in every detail. Some paths would lead to nowhere, to cave ins. Some would lead to other rooms, and yet another looks like it led to the next ‘level’ (honestly, sometimes the Dark hour was so similar to a video game it was silly). He bit his lower lip lightly, nervously fingering the edges of the dusty map. “I z’ink, z’at we should explore just a bit, and z’en go to z’is room.” Francis carefully rolled up the map, placing it into his leather bag. “I know, we do not ‘ave much time, but if z’ere is somez’ing z’e shadow wanted so badly, I z’ink we s’ould retrieve it.” A ghost of a smile crossed his lips as he took a step forward towards the entrance of the cave. “If it is important to z’e s’adow, it is important to us. Z’at is ‘ow it works in z’ese z’ings. No?” Francis wasn’t sure if they would question that logic or not, but if this was anything like his own experience. They needed whatever was in that room. Shadows were never good at hiding things.
His knuckles turned white as the gripped tightly to his rapier. More so in determination than fear (for once in his life). So what if Ansigar in truth disliked him. So what if their friendship was all faux. Francis cared for him. When had someone disliking him stopped him from anything? Never. That had never stopped the Frenchman before. Francis was stronger now, better. He had faced his own demons and conquered them. Well, somewhat. There were things that could never be gotten over, never forgiven such as letting the love of one’s life die, but everything he had gotten over made him so much stronger. He wasn’t a fighter, he couldn’t valiantly rush in swords ablaze and rescue his friend. He could however support the true heroes, and that was enough for him. Turning back he gave the two a grin. “Let us go.”
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Post by Matthew Williams on Apr 5, 2011 23:47:21 GMT -5
The Canadian sunk a bit. Yes, they shouldn't be messing around; time was of the essence, after all. Even so, Matthew believed that it would benefit all of them if they would do a little bit of exploring. Charging head-first into trouble was not the first thought on his mind. What if they really did get into trouble? What if someone got hurt and there was no escape? Things were just going to get worse the deeper they went in and going in without a plan was suicide.
Of course, he held most of it to himself. Instead, darting his eyes around the cave nervously. Who knew when a shadow would pop up and attack? They had to be ready for anything as experience had taught him. "T-that sounds like a good idea."
Matthew let out a small sigh of relief, glad that they would have some sort of chance against whatever awaited them if things got a little tipsy.
With a nod to French man, Matthew started to carefully tread forward, wondering what awaited them within. One hand always on the wall so that he would not trip or fall and in case things got darker the deeper he went in. "H-how long should we keep going for?" [/blockquote] |
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Post by Berwald "Sven" Oxenstierna on Apr 7, 2011 14:19:31 GMT -5
Oh, yes, let's all go get ourselves lost while the Swede stands around and talks sense. Why did he expect anything different?
Berwald kept his irritation to himself as he listened to the other two, going around behind Francis to look at the map. The Frenchman had a point; if it was important to the Shadow, it should indeed be important to them.
And if it was important to the Shadow, it was important to Sir.
"...think Sir's 'n that room," he said, adjusting his glasses. It was the only thing that made sense; Dark Hour or no Dark Hour, Sir was a sensible man. In theory, the dungeon of his spirit would be just as straightforward and to the point as he was...and as dangerous.
That fact was another thing that pressed him to get this over with as soon as possible. The more they wandered, the more chance something less than pleasant would jump out and devour the lot of them. |
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Post by Ansigar Hartwig on Apr 9, 2011 14:43:44 GMT -5
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As you begin to make your way into the caverns, a low rumbling begins to emanate from all around you, and it is only a fraction of a second later that the entrance begins crashing down all around behind you. If you hadn't have moved, you would have been crushed in the resulting cave-in, and while that in itself is a disturbing fact to ponder, the real problem now is that the entrance has sealed itself off. For better or worse, who knows? It is dark, so very dark, but a few industrial lanterns light the path at irregular intervals, their light throwing shadows onto the wet walls. And yet still there is nothing, aside from the miraculously timed cave-in. Still no shadows, still no sign of life...almost as if the entire place is barren, bereft of life.
And yet...
You can't help but feel as though something is watching you. [/i] ---------------------- [/size][/center] |
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