BRAVE ADVENTURERS CONFRONT ELDRITCH HORROR

-*- cunningConnery ...What? That's it? Not even one line of long winded exposition? Just one mumbling grunt and it's back to being a trembling little grump?
-*- cunningConnery Ugh.
-*- cunningConnery This idiot's going to be the death of him, he swears.
-*- cunningConnery (This all too vulnearable, all too familiar, and all too infuriating idiot.)
-*- cunningConnery It left him once again at a loss, though more out of frustration than anything resembling regret, as he felt the silence once again fall upon them. Awful thing, that silence. Always made his clothes itch and his fingers jitter, waiting for something-- anything-- to happen. Never was a fan.
-*- cunningConnery He was already too much of a tough cookie to crack like this, slow to respond and with as few words as possible, and it... it made Cael feel so uneasy. The entire air seemed to sour when he got so wound up like this. Like curdled milk.
-*- cunningConnery Maybe it was because he knew Vergil had a bad habit of snapping at him when he was like this.
-*- cunningConnery (And.)
-*- cunningConnery (Ocassionally choking.)
-*- cunningConnery (It was.)
-*- cunningConnery (A hard memory to forget.)
-*- cunningConnery (Had to keep reminding himself that it wasn't him, not really, that demons were only naturally territorial and paranoid and--)
-*- cunningConnery (Wasn't him.)
-*- cunningConnery (Wasn't him.)
-*- cunningConnery Maybe it was because it pained him to see anyone struggling so obviously like this, wound up and over into their own personal deep fried hell.
-*- cunningConnery Maybe.
-*- cunningConnery (Maybe it was because he knew it was all his fault.)
-*- cunningConnery ...No, no, no, don't you dare fall into that rut. Anything could be salvaged, even this. Just had to twist the right screws, press the right buttons, and keep that assembly line running. Nothing to it.
-*- whisperingNightterror unless something decided to throw a whole toolbox into the works.
-*- cunningConnery He could work with this. Wasn't much, but he could work with it.
-*- whisperingNightterror Well, someone. Someone who showed neither hide or hair, and yet in the dark they watched with violet orbs. Silent steps, an invisible frame, and a curious creature were not a good mix. Especially one with so much time clinging to their being. One waiting for their very presence to be noted, no doubt.
-*- chthonianGunslinger "...Thaht's it?"
-*- chthonianGunslinger Not losing a single step in stride, he flipped around and casually strode backwards in step with his guide. Perfect. Couldn't have been smoother if he tried.
-*- chthonianGunslinger "Prhactaice, prhactaice, prhactaice n' then therhe's nothin' to it?" He let a tad bit of incredulity seep into his tone, the cherry to the cake. "Whai, Oi thaink ye starhtin' t'mahke me feel a lil' jea--"
-*- chthonianGunslinger And then he glanced away.
-*- abstersiveTournure (...??)
-*- chthonianGunslinger For all but a second, habitually and yet all too purposefully, but a second was all he needed.
-*- chthonianGunslinger Ggggod, why did he have to look up?
-*- chthonianGunslinger (Because he knew this was bound to happen, that's why.)
-*- chthonianGunslinger His reaction was instantaneous, subtly but surely stiffening up like a board... only to relax an instant later, muscles and posture slinking into a slump.
-*- chthonianGunslinger It wouldn't do to give away his fear, after all.
-*- chthonianGunslinger They loved fear.
-*- chthonianGunslinger And so, trying his very damned hardest to look as if he had seen nothing, felt nothing, and knew especially nothing, he dared himself to turn back around and mumble as casually as casual ever could be--
-*- chthonianGunslinger "(We're bein' wahtched.)"
-*- chthonianGunslinger ...Wait--
-*- abstersiveTournure (As if he couldn't already smell your fear to know something was wrong.)
-*- chthonianGunslinger "(Don't y'darhe glahnce behaind you.)"
-*- chthonianGunslinger (In his experience, practically everyone and their grandmother had the idiocy to look behind the moment anyone said 'We're being watched.')
-*- chthonianGunslinger (Next thing you know they're going to want to split up, too.)
-*- whisperingNightterror (could agree with that being a /wonderful/ idea, but it took a bit of fun out of it)
-*- abstersiveTournure Hah -- always liked to feel cool, didn't he? Pivoting and strolling along backward like it was the most natural thing in the world. Vergil didn't look his way, instead opting to eye the doorways they passed, focused on finding the right door. Picking the wrong one led to...
-*- abstersiveTournure Interesting consequences, more often than not.
-*- abstersiveTournure Besides, it wasn't as if Cael needed someone encouraging his flamboyance with attention.
-*- abstersiveTournure (The very fact that he was putting forth such an effort to maintain amiability, normalcy -- nevermind that if Vergil didn't know better he might have bought it --)
-*- abstersiveTournure (He didn't buy it, of course, and it didn't quite dispel his agitation, but it was...disarming to observe. He really was a lot like Dante.)
-*- abstersiveTournure (Albeit...)
-*- abstersiveTournure (A better liar.)
-*- abstersiveTournure (Then again, most people were better liars than Dante.)
-*- abstersiveTournure ...What, did he suddenly notice a catgirl and her posse (paaaawsse -- that was what Felicia had always said and it felt disgusting to think it in such a context) doing unutterable things shamelessly somewhere? No, that wouldn't make sense -- he would've noticed them t--
-*- abstersiveTournure The thought cut off abruptly at the change in rhythm of the heartbeat he could hear thrumming beside him -- a rush of blood, the scent of nervousness, fear.
-*- abstersiveTournure He didn't allow himself to tense up, to react, the growl in his throat carefully stifled. Instead, he inhaled, a soft, steady breath --
-*- abstersiveTournure Holy hay trough --
-*- abstersiveTournure It smelled familiar, someone he'd never met but whose scent he'd memorized -- the Alpha, the one who smelled like something ancient, something he could never identify but that always set him on edge. It wasn't just unnatural, it was overpowering, even when faint and drifting as it seemed now --
-*- abstersiveTournure "(He's not hiding,)" he murmured even as the thought occurred to him. If he'd been hiding, his scent would've been suppressed, erased cleanly from the hormone-riddled musk that seemed to permeate from the walls themselves. But then, the real question was --
-*- abstersiveTournure How had he failed to notice?
-*- abstersiveTournure "(This is why I wanted you to be quiet.)" It was a hiss, harsh (and nervous, though he'd never admit it) and agitated -- but he couldn't put his heart into it. He should've -- he should've smelled it coming, should've been more aware -- it was his responsibility, him they entrusted their lives to (unreasonably, irrationally) --
-*- abstersiveTournure Stay calm. Don't panic, don't panic -- stay steady, stay alert. The scent wasn't near, still lurking, wafting from over his shoulder -- he needed to focus, be ready for anything...sudden. They were safe, for now. And, so long as they kept him at a distance...
-*- abstersiveTournure Hah, as if he could hope for /that/. No, if it wanted to hurt them, it /would/ hurt them. He should -- should tell Cael, warn him. Make sure he was as prepared as humanly (very humanly, and very, very mortally, no matter how he smelled of magic and carried that spear like an extension of himself) possible.
-*- abstersiveTournure "(...It doesn't want to go unnoticed, and if it wants to hurt us, it will do so whether we acknowledge it or not,)" he articulated, voice smooth and cool, in comparison to the harried sibilation before. Controlled as he ever was, if not more -- the tension and agitation had subsided, replaced with that unflappable calculatory tone.
-*- abstersiveTournure And it was no facade. The steadiness came easily, clamping tightly down on his anxiousness (fear) as well as the rising, defiant instinct at the back of his mind, refusing to be cowed, to submit.
-*- abstersiveTournure He didn't like to acknowledge either.
-*- abstersiveTournure He knew Cael was going to hate this -- doubtless, he wanted to keep walking, keep their heads down, perhaps escape unbothered -- or keep the possible advantage of their observer /potentially/ still believing that it had the advantage of surprise. But that seemed like a longshot, now. And he was never one to be caught looking.
-*- abstersiveTournure "(If, by chance, you find yourself with the opportunity to slip away, don't be /noble/.)" This, still controlled and nearly caustic, grating on the last word, was all the warning he offered before halting and turning halfway, movements ever so precise and decisive.
-*- abstersiveTournure "Unlike the majority of this manor's residents, I do care for my privacy. Is there something you need?" Every bit as curt and formal as usual, fear and challenge carefully bit down. No need to provoke the creature, not yet. Merely force its hand, seize tenuous control of the situation. Or at least, not allow /it/ control.
-*- abstersiveTournure (As if he could ever seize control from /this/ -- it was a creature of unfathomable power and he had already proven to be a /failure/ --)
-*- abstersiveTournure (But the least he could do was make his stand and hope to hold his ground long enough that he, perhaps, wouldn't fail again. It wasn't as if /he/ could die again.)