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Knock 'em Dead

The Manor

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a part of Knock 'em Dead, by pieluver.

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pieluver holds sovereignty over The Manor, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

2,522 readers have been here.

Setting

Default Location for What the Devil Don't Want
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The Manor

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Minimap

The Manor is a part of Knock 'em Dead.

13 Characters Here

James Butler [60] "Sometimes it is best just to watch from a distance and bow when asked a question."
Linnet Mallory [55] "You never forget who you really are... no matter how many nights you stay awake trying to,"
Drake Stuart [43] "You will play and you will like it. Or die trying. Or just die. Either way is fine with me."
Lira Devine [35] *Dead*
Allease LaVera [32] "I think I've gone mad..."
Dominic Brecht [18] "You know you can't resist me." *Dead*
Saber Cantin [17] Pompous prince
Elizabeth Richardson [17] "Um, would you mind letting me go?"
Dante Valentine [17] "If this is a joke, then it is not funny."

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Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Linnet Mallory Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Drake Stuart
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She was staring at him blankly. Was she trying to figure out what he'd asked or was she somewhere else completely? James stood patiently for a moment, waiting, a solemn look on his face to keep him standing up properly. His belly was teasing him, sending him waves of nausea and sharp little prickles of pain that could not be predicted. He was just formulating another way he could act out his offer when she curtsied and took his arm. His green eyes widened for a moment in surprise. Partly because she'd curtsied at him, and because the contact was sudden. She'd called him Sir before, well, Sur, but same thing, but curtsying? James had never been curtsied at before. He was not just a servant, but also to all appearance an adolescent. But even if he could vocalize his thoughts he wouldn't tell her not to. She could do whatever she wanted to. Whatever made her happy.

She would die here, after all, it didn't really matter.

James swallowed as He began leading her down the hall, unsure exactly where to go. Her arm was very warm, he noticed. He'd eaten not too long ago, so he had that heat, but he was slowly growing colder and deader again. As always. Auch, the pain was dragging him down. he tried to smile at Linnet as he tried to decide where exactly she might like to go. Perhaps she'd like to eat. yes, that was an idea. Humans needed to eat all the time. Or at least, that was what Drake said. Drake's words had long been the authority on the needs of humans. Even though the daemon had never experienced the weighty wonders of living and having a body that ran on normal things like food and water. Not souls and the occasional corpse.

He pressed two fingers to his lips, then pointed at his stomach, then at hers in a half-hearted attempt to explain to her that he was taking her to the kitchen so she could have something to eat. He didn't know what the humans thought about him and Drake, what the humans thought their motives were, but he hoped she didn't think that he was telling her that he was going to eat her. He wasn't that stupid though, he thought after a moment. Not stupid enough to inform her of his intentions to murder and consume her corpse. It he'd actually wanted to do that.

Dominic had been spur of the moment, much due to the jubilation of having food for the first time in nearly a month. It was an excuse, but he'd cling to it. He didn't usually eat his kin-species. If he could call them that. James couldn't help but frown at his own apologetic thoughts. He needed to calm himself down and get a grip. Maybe he was just spending too much time with the human. Linnet. He needed to sit alone for a while or something.

Maybe after he dropped her off in the kitchen and attempted to make her something to eat he'd run off and bury the rest of Dominic and sit out in the garden and stare at the wall for a while. He'd be in trouble for not attending to the guests, but he'd cope with the punishment.

They descended the far staircase, James didn't know where Hassen might be, but the human's quarters was a very possible place, and he wanted to avoid Hassen at all costs, especially since he had Linnie. He didn't know what kind of mood Hassen was in. Well, he never knew, but that was beside the point.

As they descended the stairwell, James caught a bloody smell. Damn. That meant he'd have to try and get blood out of the rugs at some point. He hoped Linnie wouldn't mind if he took a detour to investigate. The kitchen was just down a hall and a left and a right from the stairwell after all. Curiously he followed the blood, it was rather old, he realized, down the hall. And then he froze in his tracks.

Not because of the blood though. More because of the sour looking head that had just poked itself out of the door down the hall. He released Linnie's arm as Drake spotted them and stepped all the way out of the door, making his way towards them. And he had a guest by the arm. He was dragging a guest by the foot. Lira? Despite his wariness towards Drake, James spared a moment to cast a wide eyed look at Linnie.

Everything clicked into place in a second. Lira had wounded Linnie, but she'd killed him. She'd been hiding, shell shocked, not because she was afraid of Lira finding her, but because she'd just killed a man. And by the looks of the body Drake was carrying after him like a rag doll, Drake had already taken the last bit of life from the man. He looked rather bleary as well. He must have had more to drink. Of course. And now he was in a bad mood. Hangover. Of course.

Drake slung his arm over his servant's shoulder when he made it within reach of the boy, as he'd released Lira about halfway down the hall, this was much more interesting that an old dead human was any day. "I see you've not cleaned up yet." He said, crooking his elbow at James's throat. "Well, you've got another one for your troubles." the boy reached up and pulled on the arm futilely. It seemed like Drake's new favorite pass time was finding all the different ways he could throttle someone, and James didn't particularly that game. "Guess who killed him, James. Guess." the red eyes flicked upwards, catching the odd eyes of the girl, the only living human in the hall. Ah, they'd not leave until he'd taken out a bit of his bad mood on them.

The chocolate haired boy let out a strangled squeak as Drake pulled his arm tighter. "Good boy." Drake said warmly. "Your right, it was Miss Mallory." He released James all in a sudden, and the boy's face went from all the shades of purple back to it's normal color in a matter of seconds. "She's your new little friend, isn't she James?"

The daemon, throbbing headache and all, gracefully made his way over to the little human girl, catching her shoulder with his pale fingers. "I'll tell you a secret, Little Miss Witch. This time, our little friend over here isn't going to be fed until you go and die." his voice was blunt, his eyes fixed on James. "And no sooner either, since he's been a bad little servant. He's not allowed to go and make nice little friends today." He leaned closer to her ear, still not looking at the human. "So you better go kick the bucket before the boy tears your throat out." Then he laughed loudly, a cold yet mirthful sound.

James flinched at the words, every single one of them, as if Drake had pushed him over and started kicking him. She wouldn't trust him anymore, even if she didn't believe Drake's words. And then she'd end up dying anyway, at the hands of some other human. Looks like he'd have the alone time he'd needed not five minutes ago. he'd have quite a bit of it.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Linnet Mallory Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Drake Stuart
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#, as written by slcam
If Linnie noted James's surprise, she did not comment on it. It made little difference to her at the moment. She only wondered where James would take her, and who they might encounter on the way. Linnie trusted James, but more by default than anything else. Her trust was tenuous at best, ready to snap back at any sign of betrayal. However, at the same time, she liked James. Not necessarily in a romantic way, but more like a sibling, if one she had only just met. She felt some immediate bond with him, though its source was unknown to her.

Through all of this, as she slowly regained her strength, some of her earlier anxieties began to return. Drake was not human, and Linnet wondered if James was the same. There always seemed to be an odd separation between him and the captives that was not fully explained by his state of servitude to Drake. Hassen was another worry. He could also be non-human, but mostly he just seemed to be completely insane. Linnie was content with staying out of his way, no matter what he was. To think of it, she would also prefer to stay away from Drake. She always felt like a rabbit cornered by a rabid dog, inches away from death at any given moment.

James made several motions, trying to communicate with her. It took her a moment to understand he was saying something about eating. She had little appetite, but she figured it would be for the best if she did eat. "Uh, I... food would be nice...." Hopefully she would be able to get her strength back, at least a bit, if she ate. They began to descend the stairs, and Linnie gingerly placed her feet, her knees dangerously wobbling as she tried to keep her balance. She was glad for James's arm, for without it she would not have made it down without falling, or at least resting.

After reaching the floor safely, Linnie gave a soft sigh of relief. She still felt wobbly, but at least she was not in danger of falling down the stairs. Instead of the expected turn to the kitchen, James seemed to stiffen for a moment before continuing down a hall that was all to familiar to Linnet. A look of panicked terror crossed her eyes as she took in the blood sprinkled haphazardly on the carpet. Her walk became slower and more unsteady as her entire being told her to run. She could not muster the strength to even pull her arm from James's, so she had no choice but to allow him to lead her down the hall.

Just then, a familiar white head poked out from the door. It was the same room Linnie had been in earlier. To her dismay, James immediately let go of her arm when he saw Drake, and Linnie thought he must have intended to bring her to Drake from the start. Her thoughts became more frantic and rushed as Drake dragged the mutilated corpse of Lira from the room. It seemed that his chest had been ripped open, and dark blood still pooled in the opening. Linnie fought back a wave of nausea as her eyes darted to Drake's unhappy face, before taking in the surprised look on James's face as she caught his eye.

Linnie could only numbly wonder if Drake had done that before pure panic swept through her. Drake hooked his arm around James's neck and began strangling him in a scene that seemed horrifyingly familiar to when Linnet had first woken up. Linnie wondered if it was because James had helped her instead of cleaning, but figured that was not the point, especially if James had brought her to Drake on purpose. If their goal was to terrify her, it was certainly working. Perhaps Drake was trying to make her snap, cause her terror to take over. If that was what he wanted, Linnie determined that that would never happen. A new determination flooded her, mixing with the terror, taking away the sharpness of her fear.

Her eyes became more cold and fierce, though still wide with dread. Drake's eyes met hers and she visibly trembled. However, her gaze never wavered from those terrible red eyes. The calm, cool tones of Drake's voice contradicted sharply with his choking James. After a moment, Drake released him, and Linnie let out a breath she did not know she had been holding.

Each step Drake took toward her caused her to tremble, but she stood tall and defiant as she could. She knew she would be unable to flee, and, in that moment, she did not care. She hated the thought that Drake, and even James, might get any pleasure from seeing her run. She could easily picture herself trying and falling, and the mocking laughter on their horrid faces. No, she would not run.

Anger steadily grew in her as Drake carelessly set his hand on her shoulder. With James earlier, it had been different. She had allowed the contact, even initiated it, but Drake just took that contact for granted. The fear of hurt from the simple touch, and the anger at the possibility of being hurt, steadily grew in her. She only just kept herself from writhing out of his strong grip.

She was taken aback by Drake's threat. He would punish James until she was dead by withholding food? Was that why James had seemed guilty before when he had taken soup? As Drake continued, she realized it could not be that simple. What did he really mean? All the unanswered questions began to boil in her, demanding answers, further fueling her despair. More pressure built inside her until she thought she would burst.

Unable to contain herself anymore, to endure that cold, hateful touch, she violently whirled away from the man. At the same time she pushed him as hard as she could in the hope that she could get out of arm's reach before he could harm her. She hoped she could surprise him enough to knock him off his feet. Stumbling back, her knees gave out and she sunk to the carpet. Putting her hands out for support, she looked back up into those red eyes.

Her voice began at a near growl, a sound that was disturbing coming from the throat of such a frail, petite woman. "Wot are you? I know you're no' 'uman, so wot? A vampire per'aps? Are they evan 'uman?" she said, pointing to James though she meant both James and Hassen. Her voice began to rise, anger coloring each word and making her a bit difficult to understand. "Why are ya doin' this? Wot 'ave you ta gain from this madness? Why? Wot are you?" The last word came out in a vehement shout that seemed immediately swallowed up by the walls surrounding them. There was a moment of stillness as the words echoed in Linnie's mind. She wavered back and forth between fear and hate, eyes dilating and contracting as fear washed over her only to be forced back by her intense anger.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Linnet Mallory Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Drake Stuart
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When the human girl pushed away from him Drake rocked back on his heels, absorbing the strike with an irritated grimace. She stumbled less than a metre before falling to her knees,. Ah yes, he'd almost forgot, Lira had wounded her. She probably wasn't in the best condition to be doing things like running away or fighting. But still she looked back up at him, fire in those eyes. Silly little human, it would be much easier on them if they didn't get so worked up about trivial things. She let out a ferocious set of questions, she had been contemplating this for a while. Perhaps not the wisest occupation for her time, but humans did as humans did. And it was a good way to burn off all his pent up annoyance. And it was fun, tormenting humans.

The daemon took a few delicate steps, circling Linnie until he was within arm's reach of James,`which wasn't as easy as it should have been because the boy was slowly inching away, sensing that something bad was about to happen. because when bad things happened they often happened to him for some reason. And that reason was Drake. "Well then, are you done now?" he asked after a beat, when it seemed her avalanche of questions had come to an end. "You know, those are quite prying questions, it's not nice to go around asking people what species they are, but I suppose I'll indulge you since you asked so nicely."

He wrapped his arm around James's neck again, this time merely to lean on the smaller form rather than throttle him. The boy glanced up at Linnie for a moment, trying to convey how sorry he was that he'd even thought about walking down this hall. He could defend her against Hassan, or one of the humans, but saying no to Drake was a very bad idea because that was the one entity that held James's life in his hands. And he could easily be careless with it.

"Well, I am Drake." The daemon said, a faint grin across his face. "And I'm not a vampire. I'm not even sure if those exist, to be quite honest. Have you ever met one, James?" James stared at the floor. "No? That's what I thought. I'm what your kind call...err...not a cherubim, you know, those ones with the wings. An angel? Hmm, that sounds foolish." he leaned his head to one side, red eyes caught on a spot near Linnie's head. "Although, now that I think about it, that didn't work out too well for me. It was a foolish occupation, so the name does fit. This job is much more fun, I would agree. Death is the most affable partner a man could wish for." He flashed the full regiment of his shark-teeth for a moment, eyes wandering back to the human's face. "Wouldn't you say?"

Drake began tracing his fingernail across James's throat restlessly, right above where he knew a carotid resided. That artery didn't just bleed, it gushed. But now was not the time for that. he'd have to keep control of himself. Somewhat. Murdering simply didn't have the same effect without an artful buildup, of course. Unless it was for his own benefit, in that soul-eating sort of way. Then it didn't matter, as long as supper was soon in its arrival.

"Although, you humans don't know a good time when it hits you in the face." He mock pouted, eyes still fixed on the girl's face hungrily. Ah, he was a greedy little monster, but when offered two meals within a few hours of each other the need always did seem to grow for some reason. "Or luck. Really, you've got a place to stay and food to eat for free for the rest of your sorry little lives, but you silly little creatures don't seem very grateful. Or maybe I just have a habit of picking out the most ungrateful little slugs." Drake tsked and shook his head.

"But back to your questions, my little witch. Who do you mean by they, dear? My little James? Hmm. James what are you anyway? I never really thought about it. Human enough, I suppose. Aren't you." Drake had to tighten his hold on the servant, who was beginning to fidget. James liked attention, but he didn't want this kind of attention. This was more than a little game of cat and mouse, and he really didn't want to have to clean more blood off the carp-

The lad let out a low wail as serrated teeth lodged briefly in the side of his neck, right in the place the fingernails had been mapping out. That had been entirely unexpected. It was not a typical punishment from Drake, unless of course he just wanted to drive the servant to the brink of desperation and watch him try and kill the girl just to get a bit of relief. That was what Drake deemed good entertainment. The daemon held up his torso for a moment as James tried vainly to staunch the bleeding before he was dropped completely to the floor.

Drake spat out the blood in his mouth, James tasted too much like him to be considered as a source of food, it was too similar to self-cannibalism, a road that Drake never wanted to turn down. "Well," He said to the human girl as James twisted at his feet. "I suppose if you wait a few hours you'll discover if he's human or not." His voice was infused with a cloying cheer and he poked the lad with his shoe. "But if the position does open up, would you be interested, Miss Mallory? You seem like a hard working girl." The daemon laughed, much too amused by his own wit, a by-product of spending too much time alone with only James for company. And James wasn't very good company for banter.

James, now lying on the floor facing upwards, both hands clamped to the side of his neck, with blood leaking out from between his fingers, tried to calm himself down, to little avail. The side of his neck had been more or less shredded, thanks to Drake's cheerful abandon in using his teeth. James had never quite experienced such a sensation as 'dying' from a bite to the throat, as Drake usually had better ways of doling out murder for his amusement. It didn't really matter though, seeing as whether it had been knife or tooth that slashed his neck, he was still writhing unceremoniously on the floor, teeth gritted so he wouldn't cry out in pain again.

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The servant eyed the couple for a moment, carefully awaiting a reply from the girl. None came. After no more than a moment of silence, his attitude changed almost completely. He gave a deep bow, refusing to look up at either the way a servant that had done something wrong and been reprimanded for it might act. There was even a hint of guilt at having forgotten their most basic needs. Deep inside something clicked and old habits, almost forgotten, came rushing back to the surface.

Gone was the wild animal that stalked the shadows, waiting for a chance to inflict the pain he felt upon the others. In its place stood a bodyguard and servant, ready to leap at his master's bidding. The spoiled attitude of the young man grabbed his attention first, and while it didn't have the same underlying vile intentions of his former master, it was close enough to satisfy the servant. This was what he had wanted and been waiting for for so long.

Straightening back up, Hassen motioned for the two to follow and once again took off. This time, however, the pace was much slower and the intense pain showed through the suddenly heavier limp. He walked with a purpose - a better purpose than before, rather - and his previous intentions to hurt, main, or otherwise disfigure his two 'pets' had, well, vanished. It was as though the dark aura that surrounded him had simply vanished.

Twists, turns, and a flight of stairs later, the servant came to an abrupt halt at the sight that greeted him shortly before the kitchen. Oh, what a bloody mess. He wasn't expected to clean it up, was he? My my. As skilled as he was at removing or hiding blood stains, he wasn't too eager to try and fix this particular mess. It was far too large and at least two bodies were still leaking bodily fluid. Namely James and a previous human that had disappeared earlier. Funny how these things always seemed to happen at the most inopportune times. He glanced back at his humans and made a motion for them to stay where they were. Running away would get them nowhere, after all. He would simply hunt them down and teach them a few manners.

Taking a few steps forward, Hassen clapped his hands loudly to try and draw attention to himself. Hopefully Drake would realize that he wished to pass through with his humans and complete his business of feeding. That or Drake would throw a fit and try to kill them, in which case he would have to protect them because he wasn't finished with them just yet. Too many things to do and so many outside forces at work to slow him down! No matter. The servant was more than ready for whatever needed to be done.

Setting

4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Linnet Mallory Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Hassen Heindrick Character Portrait: Drake Stuart
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#, as written by slcam
As soon as Drake spoke, Linnie began to regret her words. That moment where she did not care whether she lived or died quickly began to frighten her. She really was losing it, wasn't she? She was surprised that Drake had not just killed her on the spot. He did have that authority here, but something kept him from just killing her. Was it just not wanting to get his hands dirty? Linnet highly doubted that because he had just torn a dead man's chest open. Her eyes drifted uneasily to the mutilated body before snapping away again. Perhaps he had another plan in mind for her. The thought made her shudder.

When Drake said he was not a vampire, Linnie gave a silent, though premature, sigh of relief. So she had been worrying about that for no reason. It was a strange idea in the first place. However, any small trace of relief and hope was brutally shattered with his next words. From his words Linnie could only make sense a couple. He was an angel of death....

Her eyes fixed on the floor as she reeled with shock once again. Her childish assumption that Drake could be a vampire was only based on superstition. She knew there had to be another explanation, though a vampire was the easiest. Nevertheless, that did nothing to prepare her for this. Despair washed over her and all hope felt lost. She felt that there was no way to fight this man, no, this angel of death. Her only option was to die.

All of his comments about a good time, luck, and being grateful went over Linnie's head. She was completely unable to comprehend any of it. It was impossible for her to think of something so absurd as being grateful for this death match when she was still trying to process who, or more exactly, what Drake was. The terrible discovery was eased by the fact that she already suspected that he could not be human, but only slightly.

When Drake called her "my little witch" once more, Linnie was able to bring her attention back to his words. She even dared look up at his face with just the slightest trace of anger still covering her own. However, fear was the main emotion on her face. She took in Drake holding James's shoulder tightly and how uncomfortable James seemed. She was half glad that pleasure was no where on his face, though she could easily imagine it on Drake's. He was probably terribly pleased with himself. After all he had scared an easily frightened young woman. How impressive. Despite her anger, a healthy fear was again taking the young woman, causing small trembles and shudders.

Suddenly, Drake's teeth bared and he viciously bit into the boy's neck. Linnet's eyes widened in horror as she gasped, unable to believe what she was seeing. Despite her aversion, she was unable to look away. James slumped to the floor and she seemed to slump with him. "Why?" she mumbled, too quiet to hear. After a moment, she said it louder. "But why? Why...why do this? Why bring us 'ere ta kill...." A single sob escaped her and she stopped. She almost seemed surprised she had spoken aloud. At his response, her eyes widened.

Years seemed to pass as she stared wide-eyed and unseeing into the daemon's face, though only a minute passed. Though Drake being an angel of death was hard to grasp, this was far worse. Suddenly, a loud clap jolted her from her stupor. She turned and saw Hassen behind her, with his attention fixed on Drake. Linnie immediately jumped up and stumbled back to the wall, quickly feeling dizzy. Only then did she notice the other two people following him. She stared at them in alarm before her eyes darted to Hassen then Drake before resting on James. She could not imagine how this would turn out, and that terrified her.

Unwilling to face another uncertain situation, she slid to a seated position and hid her face behind her hands.

Setting

6 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Linnet Mallory Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Hassen Heindrick Character Portrait: Dante Valentine Character Portrait: Drake Stuart Character Portrait: Saber Cantin
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Miss Mallory was an utter mess. James was too for that matter, but for different reasons. But for a single moment he had her utter attention, as she sobbed and questioned his motives. He paused for a moment and tipped his head slightly to one side, red eyes fixing on her face again. "Why, my dear, isn't it obvious? So I can eat your little human souls." Her eyes grew round and wide. Perhaps it hadn't been that obvious then, she was quite surprised. Silly human. She would die soon enough though, he would make sure of it. Letting her in on all the secrets was great fun, but she couldn't be allowed the go and spread them around. Not that there were many to share the secrets with. Why, she could tell an end table, or Lira's dead body, or maybe a window pane, but nothing of any matter. Just as it should be. And her soul would taste all the better for the fright, what with all the strong emotion probably coursing through her thimble of a body at the moment.

A loud clap brought him out of his amusement a few second after. It made Miss Mallory jump too. Drake whirled around, irritated. "What do you want, Hassen?" His voice reflected his annoyance as he pivoted. He knew it was Hassen, because James was lying on the ground and no one else would dare try to catch his attention in such a way. He tolerated it from Hassen though, because he didn't know better. If he hadn't have picked the stitches out of the wound so often, maybe he'd have a better mouth to carry his voice, but humans would be humans, wouldn't they?

Speaking of humans, there were two following Hassen, Drake noticed as he turned fully. The new ones. "Ah, made some new friends, have we?" He commented, his voice slightly more genial than it had been at first. "If there's a problem, you'll just have to cope, boy, if not, have fun with whatever it is you plan to do." He said as he grabbed Lira's body by the throat and hauled it over his shoulder. No need to leave that laying out in the middle of the floor, like James was currently doing.

"And about our friends, Hassen, check on Allease later. I fear she might be festering, she hasn't been out of her room since yesterday, and I'm not going to feed a useless body, and James is a bit too put out to do anything at the moment." He strolled past the trio of humans, ignoring the two new guests. He was going to disappear back in his quarters and sleep off his headache for a few hours before venturing out to purchase more food for the humans. And perhaps a new player, if all went well.

James, who was still bleeding profusely, paid little attentions to his surroundings until Hassen made an entrance. With a man and a woman trailing behind him. James struggled to sit up, still pressing one hand to his throat to staunch the bleeding that was making his face look whiter than a sheet. Linnie looked to be in shock. If he hadn't been too busy trying to keep himself conscious, he would have done something to comfort her, although there probably wasn't much he could do, considering he probably looked a sight and was part of the reason for her semi-catatonic state. The boy really didn't want to be stepped on, as laying out in the middle of the hall would probably promise, and he had to be somewhat on his guard because Hassen was around. Hassen had never really been on to kick him while he was down for the count too much though, considering all the times James had been in various states of damage. Broken fingers, stab wounds, strangulation, and once a broken neck had plagued him since Hassen joined the group. Okay, the broken neck had been entirely his fault, climbing too far out onto the roof, but other than that.

The boy managed to prop himself up on the wall with a bit of effort, leaning next to Linnie and trying desperately not to touch her. His fingers were still clamped like a vice around his neck, which was now dribbling instead of spurting, as he was at a better angle for gravity, and he was actually very close to running out of blood anyway. It was all on the rug. Another thing to clean up later, oh joy.

James fixed his narrowed eyes on Hassen as the other passed, not threateningly, but warily. Like he could be threatening in this state anyway. Hassen seemed interested in some other task though, so there wasn't much point, other than the fact that he looked downright mournful and in pain with his eyes narrowed like that. The green eyes flicked briefly to the man and the woman, but they didn't hold much interest at the moment. He was too busy worrying about Linnie and tracking Hassen's movements. Everything would be fine so long as no one bothered Linnie. If not, well, James would probably end up being beat up some more. As such is the way of the somewhat immortal life.

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The truth was, as far as Saber was concerned, he was the master of the house and of any and all situations. That was simply how he was raised. As his father taught him, if he wanted people to respect him and obey him, he had to act like he deserved that respect. If Saber wanted to be obeyed, he had to act like he was in power. Saber could be wearing rags and filthy, but he would still act like the lord of the manor. Saber would never be a pauper simply because he could walk up to a person and demand that they give him money. With the authority in his voice, no one would question his right to make those demands.

Though Saber was surprised at the change in the servant, he kept himself composed. The change was rather sudden and very welcomed. It seemed all the man needed was a firm hand to guide him in the right direction. After some stern suggestions, he seemed to be the perfect servant. At the very least, he was well behaved and that was something that Saber knew how to control and manipulate as needed. As the servant started to walk again, Saber smirked to himself. He might be stuck here, but at least he had a servant. Saber would be comfortable until he was able to get away. Though, depending on how he was treated here, he might not want to get away. Here there was no annoying father telling him to go out and work or to apply himself more in his studies.

A different man would have been concerned over the servantā€™s limp, but not Saber. A self-satisfied smirk appeared on his face as he watched the servant move despite the pain. This was Saberā€™s power. He could make people move despite their pain. It made him feel even more powerful. Saber followed the man through the hallway and just barely avoided hitting the servant when the man stopped. Blood. For the briefest moment there was a flash of something on Saberā€™s face. Maybe a smile. Maybe a smirk. It was hard to tell. But all Saber could think about was the fact that a fight had taken place here.

Saber would have paid money to see that sort of intense fight. Well, maybe not his money, but someoneā€™s money. On the contrary, instead of fleeing like the servant seemed to warn against, Saber took a curious step forward. Finally, he realized the extent of the mess and rolled his eyes. Hopefully the servant would get the mess cleaned up soon so they could go get some food. Then, and only then, did Saber see the two bodies. Wow. It must have been some fight. Though he knew he should be sickened by the scene before him, instead there was nothing.

Saber waved at the mess and simply said, ā€œGet on with it.ā€ He was hungry. Then servant clapped his hands and the creature Saber had just barely noticed earlier looked over. And what strength this creature had! It simply picked up the body and slung it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Perhaps this was the master of the house. Well, at the very least, now Saber knew the servantā€™s name: Hassen.

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Character Portrait: Linnet Mallory Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Hassen Heindrick Character Portrait: Dante Valentine Character Portrait: Drake Stuart Character Portrait: Saber Cantin
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#, as written by Mela
Mrs. Dante Valentine


The smirk on her fellow captiveā€™s face unnerved Dante. She felt more or less out of her element as she followed the limping servant, and she couldnā€™t tell if it was the whole situation or the fact that the darkhaired male on her right seemed to be enjoying the power he apparently held over the limping, scarred servant. If she had to be honest with herself, he creeped her out now, which automatically made her dislike him, not that she would show it as long as it wouldnā€™t benefit her. She knew nothing certain of her situation, and if she had to, she was going to manipulate her way of it. For that, she needed to appear neutral for now. Maybe this self-satisfied, spoiled brat could be helpful. If not, well, then she could fortunately avoid himā€¦ at some pointā€¦ maybe. She inwardly sighed, glancing at the limp of her guide. She didnā€™t like the way he forced himself forward in spite of it. Had he been her servant, she would have made him rest in bed until he was better.

As she walked, her skirts swaying softly around her feet, Dante was more or less in her own world, caught in the track of her own thoughts, so when the two other stopped, she didnā€™t notice until she was slightly in front of Saber, at which point she abruptly stopped, taking a step back to bring herself level with the other once more. Yes, she was a woman, but he no more than a child, and she wasnā€™t going to stand behind him as though she thought him above her. Not just yet, anyway. For now, she moved her eyes from the two males to examine the world around her, which immediately stilled any movement, her thoughts pausing. As the sight sunk in, the redhead forgot all about Saber and Hassen, her widening eyes instead settling on the pool of blood on the floor. Her lips fell slightly apart, but her hands remained resting on her front, elegantly placed together. So much blood. Andā€¦ oh god, was that a dead body?! Her eyes immediately narrowed at that, her mouth closing as it settled into a thin line.

She wasnā€™t the type to panic, which in this case worried her more than a little. She should be panicking, right? She took a deep breath, steadying herself enough to bring her face into yet another inexpressive mien. Her eyes moved ever so slowly to Saber when he spoke, and she almost wanted to slap him right across the face. Who had raised this boy; this unfeeling, cold, terrible being? However, in control as always, she merely redirected her vigilant gaze to the blonde, redeyed being behind the puddle of blood, feigning indifference rather successfully. On the inside though, Danteā€™s mind was asking a million different questions, but still there was no sense of panic, and she briefly wondered if maybe she was in shock; she definitely felt numb enough. More than enough. Sympathy was clear in her heart, however, a slight ache settling for the poor, dead man, and the male next to him, from who the blood appeared to be coming. A neck wound? How had he gotten that? What had happened here?

Dante didnā€™t utter a single question though, instead jumping at the sound of Hassenā€™s clapping, which drew the attention ofā€¦ ofā€¦ what was he? The being was towering, and lean, yet he emitted power so entirely Dante almost fell to her knees. This was the master of this house. There was no doubt in her mind, and she was suddenly ecstatic that he appeared busy with the dead body he justā€¦ slung over his shoulderā€¦ by the neck. This sight almost made her drop her theatrics, but she steeled her resolve, knowing she could do nothing. She doubted anyone could, which made her wonderā€¦ what where her options really? How long would she be forced to stay here? No one safe for the small girl by the wall, seemed too bothered by this display ofā€¦ death. Was that a normal thing here? Was she here so that she could die the same way? No, that couldnā€™t be rightā€¦ yet the red eyes of this pale beingā€¦ well, they could simply make her believe in anything. What was he? No human had red eyes. Dante, however, had never believed in myths and tales, so this was all very unreal to her.

She cleared her throat, her voice deceptively calm and bored as she spoke once the tall being had left with hisā€¦ hollow human body, ā€œanother route to our destination appears preferable in this case, gentlemen.ā€ It was all she said, but her voice was clear and no-nonsense as always, yet feminine and soft. She realized this was the first words she had spoken in this house, and she was only speaking because the pool of blood was too big for her to avoid it in crossing, and she refused to step in it. Mostly because she had a feeling that her shield of numbness would crumble at that particular experience, but also because it was more than a little disgusting. Her words themselves held no actual authority, but her voice very clearly spoke of the fact that she was no lowly woman; unless she was dragged or carried, Dante wasnā€™t crossing through that blood. It was that simple.

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The servant flinched sharply as Drake snapped at him. His lips curled back in a silent growl, but no sound passed his lips. He was in no mood to grace the demon with such a pleasure. Not now, anyways. Having James in such close vicinity had taken away all the happy, fluffy feelings that he had been experiencing lately, what with all the company, even if they did make him more nervous. But even with the defiant growl and the frustrations, he lowered his head so that, hopefully, Drake wouldn't get too angry with him. He'd seen what the demon could and, more importantly, would do to an individual that simply couldn't die; he wasn't too keen on finding out exactly what would happen if he tried to push his limits too much. Besides, this temporary master had been kind enough to grace him with a pet after his last one had away. Poor kitten.

Where had the foolish thing run off to, anyway?

More importantly, there was the matter of food. And Allease, but he would deal with her later. His friends had to be taken care of first. But what about James? He couldn't just leave the boy like that, now could he? The need to give attention was beginning to build up, anyway, and the wounded, bleeding James was more than perfect for the job. So, how to go about this...

James would have to come with him. That was all there was to it. If he wandered off, there was no telling where the boy would wander off to and then Hassen would be stuck searching for the puppy to lavish with love and affection and end up abandoning his new playmates, which would not end well. They needed supervision, for a little while, at least. So he would have to see about carrying or dragging James along. No problem. Next he would have to find an alternate route to the kitchen. There was simply too much blood in the middle of the hallway to be able to pass around it and he just wasn't as lithe as he'd like to be. Not without the added help of adrenaline. There was no point to tracking the mess even further down the halls, either, as it would only be that much more that he had to clean up. Better to keep the mess where it was for now. Besides, Dante had only just spoken up about her desire to find a different way to the kitchen. While not as easy as he would have liked, the servant was more than willing to do so. Next up, he'd have to go check on Allease. This could easily be done while the other two were eating. Oh, but what to do with James. Hmm... He'd deal with that later.

Right, that seemed easy enough. Task in mind, Hassen turned his attention directly to James. The smaller servant eyed him warily, like a caged animal, and Hassen knew better than to just throw himself forward and care for the boy as every protective cell in his body was urging him to do. Instead he carefully dropped to his hands and knees and approached cautiously. Of course he had an advantage in this particular situation. There was no way that James had enough blood left in him to be able to fight the larger servant off. Besides, Hassen wasn't approaching with intent to harm. If that were the case, they'd already be rolling on the floor, biting and clawing for all they were worth. This was clearly different from the usual, to those that knew what 'normal' was with this particular family.

Before James could complain or throw a fit, the servant grabbed the boy and dragged him over before standing up and throwing James over his shoulder. There was a moment where Hassen grimaced, every muscle in his arms and chest spazzeming at the sudden usage, but it didn't last longer than a moment. He then turned around and limp-marched past the couple that had been following him, clicking his tongue to get their attention as he passed. So far, things were going smoothly.

The new route to the kitchen wasn't all that difficult. He had to make a couple turns and wander down the halls a bit, but it wasn't long before he pushed a door open and stepped into the eating room. It was easily recognizable to the pair of butlers, especially because the door had several large gashes running across and a deep canyon running almost through the entire door where Hassen had taken the bar and tried to force his way through. Whatever had happened to the boy? Had he run away as well, or had James taken pity on the poor thing and freed him? It did not concern the servant, so he showed no interest in the matter. Either way, his guests would most likely find the door interesting, if not frightening. After all, they had no way of knowing who had made the marks, how, or even why.

Once near the center of the room, Hassen adjusted James across his shoulder so that he could point to another door, beyond which was the kitchen. They could feed themselves for the time being, since he had two other important tasks, both of which needed to be completed as soon as possible. The sooner Allease was dealt with, the sooner Hassen could move on to caring for James.

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Despite the fact that the green eyes were fixed on the taller servant, James didn't register that Hassen was coming towards him until it was too late to even attempt to escape. The other had gotten down on his hands and knees, a silent sign that the other servant wasn't going to do any damage to him, not that James could stop him. Instinctively he moved to defend Linnie, block her from Hassen with his body, but ended up falling against her shoulder for a second before the human servant had him, dragged him a very short ways across the blood stained rug, and he was up and over the other's shoulder. It wasn't a strange movement, to be slung like a limp doll, Drake found it the easiest mode of transportation, and James was used to it. He didn't like it though, even in his wearied, injured state he was going to vocalize just how much he hated Hassen carrying him around. Just as soon as he recovered from the vertigo, what was left of his blood rushing to his face and dribbling over his chin and down his cheeks like backwards tears.

His torso being angled nearly straight down didn't help the situation very much, his body was trying to make enough blood to clot the wound, and it was draining out of him as if he was a dead animal: faster than it could do much good. He couldn't squirm himself free, he knew Hassen's strength and his determination, and at the moment he was too weak to do much of anything other than clutch the human's back, the limping gait of the man making him feel as if he'd fall any second.

When he managed to get his voice back, or what constituted as a voice for the tongueless creature, he started up immediately with a screech that was more of a muffled whine. Then he demanded to be put down, which sounded like a cat in a very small box being kicked repeatedly, since he could do no more than utter vowels in the back of his throat. Hassen was the only person he talked too, or pretended to talk to, as it was. There was a good chance the man couldn't understand him at all, James wouldn't be able to understand himself if he didn't know what he intended to say, but it made him feel better just to make sounds. Drake would have none of the nonsense, and most of the humans they'd met either disregarded him as a servant or didn't live long enough for him to make senseless conversation with. Perhaps the only exception had been Gepetto, but he hadn't done much conversing with that man, in all honestly, he'd just needed the companionship of someone who didn't want to kill him, even though it had only lasted less than two days.

Usually he only vocalized to Hassen when he was displeased, often when they fought he would express his annoyance. He'd spoken quite a bit when he'd taught the servant to write with his other hand as well, Not much of it had meant anything at all, but it helped him keep his patience, because the whole business was rather trying and nerve wracking for him. He didn't like being near Hassen, because quite frankly the man scared him. And he hated Hassen besides because Drake treated him better. It was for a good reason, Hassen would actually die if someone tore out his throat with his teeth. And even though he hated the other with his heart and soul, he didn't want him to die. Then he'd be alone with Drake again, who's attentions were decidedly more sour unless souls were involved, which was growing less and less since their stay at the old manor.

The boy wailed wordlessly a little bit more, his evident distress growing fainter as time wore on until he fell back into fatigue, the short burst of energy lost. He fell limp, his hands out below him, reaching towards the ground. He closed his eyes, submitting for the moment, until he could escape whatever it was Hassen had in store for him, of which he had no idea. He hadn't really thought past the current moment, actually. Whether it was more torment or coddling, which the human edsporadically prone to, mostly directed towards a pet, (The headless kitten had been another time James had to speak, and one of the only times he'd truly felt sorry for the man, watching him care for the decapitated feline had sent shivers down his spine) James decided he wanted none of it.

By the time they made it to the kitchen, James was mostly out, completely still, one eye half open and glazed. His body had put out all efforts to heal him, which would on its own take the better half of a day, replenishing nearly all his blood. The scar of the wound would last three or four days, until it returned to a normal state. Healed slower than topical wounds, but faster than skeletal fractures. When he was shifted he let out a soft distressed sound and his muscles collectively twitched, as if he'd just woken from a dream in which he'd been a single second from hitting the ground, stirred from his almost sleep, but he fell back into the softer plane quickly, managing to find enough energy to clutch the back of Hassen's attire, reminded again that he felt as if he'd fall at any second, but not of exactly what was going on outside of the fact that he was in severe pain and he wasn't lying on the ground.

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The sight was interesting to say the least. One man dead, another creature, some blood. Really, quite interesting. Perhaps even more interesting than anything he could have arranged at home. Perhaps being brought here was a good thing. However, Saber was quick enough to gather some basic facts. This was a place where many people died. Likely, many people in his same situation. Maybe this was even a game of sorts, it was hard to tell. There was something about this whole situation that made it feel almost commonplace in this house. However, there was no way for him to tell for sure. For all he knew, he was wildly off base and the master of his house was just a horrible hermit whose only way of making friends was kidnapping them for a dinner party. Not likely, of course, but perhaps just as likely as his imagined situation.

It seemed that the damaged boy would be coming with him. Though, boy was a loose term coming from Saber. Technically, the injured man could be older than Saber. Logically, most people here were older than Saber. However, to Saber, they were all younger than him in rank. Therefore, the lot of them were boys and girls. Or servants. For a moment Saber considered that.

Did servants have a place in his hierarchy of people? They sort of moved about it. They were lower than him, of course, but not in the same way that the average, everyday man was lower than him. Peculiar. Well, no time to dwell on that in such depth now. There were more interesting things unfolding before his eyes. The servant, Hassen was it? Hassen was leading them elsewhere. Hopefully onward towards food. Saberā€™s stomach rumbled in agreement, not at all put off by the amount of carnage he had just witnessed.

Saber followed the servant through the twists and turns of the hallways, watching the woman out of the corner of his eye as well. He was studying her without being obvious about it. Most women went unnoticed by him in the normal parts of his day. Of course, nights and times of pleasure were entirely different stories. However, for some reasons she had been brought here as well. Perhaps their ā€œinvitationsā€ were purely random. Perhaps they had simply been easy prey for whoever ultimately brought them here. Or, perhaps, there was more to it. Maybe there was something special about them. Clearly there was something special about Saber, but what of the woman?

The servant pointed to a door and Saber shrugged before pushing it open. What was the worse that could happen? ā€œAh, finally,ā€ Saber said in an almost too cheery tone as they entered the kitchen. Just what he needed. Food. Though, it looked like he was going to have to fetch his own food. That was annoying. He doubted he could persuade the woman to do it, though naturally, she should jump to it. The servant seemed preoccupied with the injured creature, making a mess everywhere with his dripping bodily fluids.

A shame. It looked like he would have to find something for himself. With a somewhat dramatic sigh, Saber began digging through the cupboards for something to eat.

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Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Hassen Heindrick Character Portrait: Dante Valentine Character Portrait: Drake Stuart Character Portrait: Saber Cantin
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#, as written by Mela
Mrs. Dante Valentine


Like with almost everything in this place, Dante found herself perplexed at what she saw. What she experienced. Hell, even what she felt. Nothing made much sense here, and she honestly wasnā€™t too fond of it. She got to reply as to whether or not they would be taking another route, but the servant, Hassen, seemed not entirely opposed to the idea. She had to appreciate the little things, it seemed. So she said no more, but fell right back into her observant, almost invisible state, and as such, Dante showed no reaction when Hassen began crawling on the floor, soon throwing the bleeding boy over his shoulder, much like one would a big bag of flour or rice. It was more than a little alien, and in truth Dante was starting to worry about her own lack of feelings towards all of this.

She shook it off as they began walking, however, telling herself again and again, that she should just let things be, figure things out by herself, keep quiet, and perhaps manage to get out of there alright, orā€¦ at least alive. She was slightly offended by the fact that they had yet to be taken under any consideration by the master of the house. But then again, another part of her was glad, because she felt certain that creature in there didnā€™t often pay any kind attention to anyone.

Dante didnā€™t miss the fact that her co-guest seemed to be watching her, trying to read her. Good luck, she thought to herself, inwardly smirking. Hell, if he did figure her out, sheā€™d probably bake him cookies or something, because as it was, that had yet to happen. Not because Dante was that terribly complicated a woman, but rather, because the faƧade on top of that simple woman, was very complicated. She sent a look in his direction, letting indifference, but slight amusement, sink into that one look, letting him know she had noticed, that she welcomed the challenge, and that she was not worried. So many things could be put into the looks one chose to give others. The difference between Dante and most, was that she could so easily control it.

Danteā€™s gaze was soon on the bleeding man, however. He seemed to be struggling to stay awake. Hell, he should be dead by now judging by the amount of blood he had lost. The fact that he still had enough energy to wince and to clutch the Hassenā€™s shirt, was astounding, and a little too much of a miracle, actually. Hmm. Sheā€™d put that away for later consideration. Suddenly, the servant stopped, and almost simultaneously, Dante stilled completely, gaze following the direction in which he was pointing. She wondered if he even could talk. Maybe that nasty scar on his cheek had something to do with that. But then again, maybe he simply did not like talking. That seemed awfully tedious when trying to explain something, however.

For some reason, Saberā€™s comment irritated her. His attitude irritated her, she supposed. He was simply too spoiled, too arrogant. There was a certain line one should never cross as a parent, and this boyā€™s parents had clearly crossed it with him. Spoiled rotten was the perfect expression to describe him, if you asked Dante. She had enough of his type in her life already. She inwardly sighed and followed him into the kitchen regardless, though. It seemed it was time for food. She didnā€™t have much of an appetite, although she felt she probably needed nourishment of some sort.

As Saber began looking through cupboards, having sighed as though he expected her to serve him, Dante raised an eyebrow. This was, most likely, the liveliest expression she had outwardly made since she woke up. She straightened her gown and gracefully seated herself on a chair by the dining table, watching him, not even bothering to hide it. ā€œDo You know how to prepare a meal, sir?ā€ She asked him calmly, her tone almost bored as she gave him a once over. She very much doubted he had ever learned such a thing, overtly spoiled little boy that he was. Truthfully she wasnā€™t sure he could even make a sandwich if he found the proper produce. He would probably end up eating raw meat, because he didnā€™t know how to prepare it, or something like that. Her face fell back into an inexpressive mien as she eyed him curiously.

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Watching the humans had been quite fun - and still was, actually - but it was time to move on. Hassen could feel James' every movement, especially when the pitiful creature grabbed at him nervously. The servant was careful not to lose his grip on James since that would defeat the purpose of carrying him around to fix him up later. The human's attention shifted to the other human male as the man strolled into the kitchen. It was amazing, how calm that man was. Too calm, really. Surely his mind was close to breaking point by now. A little push and that broken mind would be perfect for molding.

The hand froze in midair, eyes widening slightly. "Perfect for molding"? The servant was frozen in place as he dissected the sentence in his mind. Something deep inside of him stirred and the more he searched the closer to the surface the thought came. The sentence was familiar but not in the sense that he had heard it before. Rather, he felt as though someone had done the same to him, which was why he was having these thoughts in the first place. What had happened anyway? His hand pulled back and flipped over so that he could stare at his palm curiously as he began to backtrack in his mind. Thinking about it carefully, he remembered being gentle, kind, and caring. Alexander had been his important man, the center of his world. His everything, so to speak. So what had happened? Why was he so angry and suspicious all the time? There had been a girl involved. Alexander had been hurt-

A sharp pain and sudden fear snapped his thoughts away. Something had happened to Alexander, he knew that much, but he was too afraid of what it was to continue the train of thought. There was an important gap missing, but fear drove him away. Shaking his head, Hassen decided that it was high time he took care of Alexander again. He could take care of James at the same time if he was careful.

The two humans were left to their own devices and Hassen shifted James slightly, making him easier to carry, before simply leaving. That was right. No more thought was given to the two humans that he had brought with him as he turned and walked away from the kitchen. A few turns and a long hallway brought the servant to Allease's room. He stood at the door for a moment, deciding what to do, before finally dumping James off to the side. More time was spent pushing the boy into what looked like a comfortable sleeping position before he left again. It was some time before he came back, a good half hour at least, and the familiar iron rod was clutched in his grip. The door opened to allow him inside and shut behind him. Seconds later a blood-curdling scream echoed through the manor before ending quite suddenly. Poor girl thought she'd be safe hiding in her room. Well, Drake wasn't going to feed someone that wouldn't play, and Hassen has his hands full with his new friends and James. When the door opened again, Hassen left it open for any curious passerby to look inside. He did, however, carry the dead body on one shoulder.

It took quite a bit of manipulation and massive amounts of pain, but Hassen finally had both James and the girl over his shoulders. The body left a trail of blood behind them and the servant had been forced to leave the bloody bar behind, but he made it safely back to the kitchen with little trouble despite the fact that his legs were practically buckling under him and his back looked ready to give out. Despite the weight, he made it to the kitchen in one piece and threw the body on one of the counters. Drake could do whatever he wanted to the girl now that Hassen was sure the point had been made clear. Surely she would listen this time. And maybe she could get something to eat while she waiting. That seemed like a win-win situation. Not to mention, his humans now had someone else to play with!

The girl had been taken care of and the humans were feeding, which only left Alexander and James. Leaving once again, Hassen made his way through the mansion until he reached the stairs where he finally came to a halt. He didn't want to climb them. His legs hurt from the constant moving around and he didn't feel like going up two flights of stairs, but James really did need treatment of some kind relatively soon. Fine, he would just bring James to Alexander's room. With this thought, he began the painful climb up the stairs, down the hall, and into Alexander's special room. James was deposited on the foot of the bed and then carefully drawn out so that he was lying straight, his legs dangling off the end. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do.

As much as he wanted to continue his plans to care for the two individuals, Hassen was in far too much discomfort to do so. Instead, he checked up on Alexander and, satisfied that nothing had changed, crawled onto the bed in what remaining space there was. He didn't care that the door was half open and that anyone could come in, or that he was practically falling off the bed. He simply nestled his back against along his master's right side and tucked his head against Jame's shoulder before closing his eyes to try and drift into an uneasy sleep.

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Character Portrait: Drake Stuart Character Portrait: Juliet Lockwood Character Portrait: Andrew white
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Lira was discarded shortly after Drake left the ragtag group, propped up in a door frame so James could find his carcass later. He left his jacket draped over the dead bodyā€™s shoulders as well, as it was too bloody to continue wearing, thanks to James. The boy really should learn to not bleed everywhere, but what could a daemon do? He rested the delicate fingers of one hand against his forehead, trying to manage his headache, which was worsening his mood by the moment. He should sleep it off, but that was boring, and there was too much interest to be had in the current going-ons. Hassen had the two new humans, the ones whoā€™d replaced Mister Dominic and Miss Allease, even though she wasnā€™t dead yet. He needed one to replace Lira as well. Heā€™d scared the living water out of Miss Linnet. Which left one he did not know the whereabouts of. Miss Elizabeth. She was probably hiding; perhaps sheā€™d tucked herself into a room and barricaded the door or some such thing. Well, that was no fun. Heā€™d have to send someone to search for her later. Perhaps he could go find a replacement now. Tormenting humans usually made him feel better, maybe he needed a new one to play with, since all the others had either hidden, or were with the servants. And he couldnā€™t verily bother Miss Linnet for a while, she was in a fragile state, and it wouldnā€™t be very fun to shatter her again until sheā€™d made some progress healing. Or died. Whichever came first.

After changing into more appropriate attire, Drake wandered out of manor. He had the only key to the outside world, and he trusted no one else to defend it. James possessed one to the inner gardens, but there was more fencing around them, so even if someone stole his key theyā€™d only become trapped outside. And James only had that key because he seemed so bent on burying the dead, some human tomfoolery. But as long as he did something useful with the bodies, it didnā€™t bother Drake much. The roses would certainly benefit from a few rotting corpses under the soil.

Heā€™d kept tabs on a young man for a short while now, and now seemed the perfect time to take him, stir things up a bit. Mister Saber probably wouldnā€™t appreciate the competition, right now he was trapped in a castle full or women. And Hassen. But he needed a motivator to hurry things up. Well he didnā€™t need it, but he didnā€™t want the humans living for very long in his manor, because there was a chance they could try to rebel, and Drake rather loathed trying to deal with the stupid creatures when they were trying to attack him. Perhaps he could find a way to store souls for safe keeping instead of gorging himself all the time. Just in case they had to flee again, heā€™d have sustenance for the journey, instead of having to talk to the reaper again, because that old blighter wasnā€™t very good company. Gave him chills up his spine, that creature did. One of the few other entities in the world that knew of his special condition, and just where to find his soul. Of course, because it was his job, and he wouldnā€™t act on it, since he was a separate entity from the upper and lower realms. So Drake was safe from him, for the most part. He was still exceedingly creepy though.

It wasnā€™t too long after that Drake had his prize and an extra passenger as well. It was nearly the middle of the day, so he had to be careful, but he hadnā€™t wanted to use drugs on them, then it would take them much too long to wake up, so heā€™d just given both of them a good wallop over the skull in the end. Disregarding the fact that heā€™d needed to purchase more food for the humans, he was due to run out in less than a week, he lugged the two of them back home. The boy and his servant. Usually he would have left the woman, but sheā€™d seemed so eager to come! Attacked him and everything. And it was rather fun to have the butlers around, even if this was a female one.

Not wanting to be disturbed by the other humans, he dumped the two in the front receiving room, which none of the humans had wandered into of yet. It was a cozy looking place, perhaps the most well decorated in the manor. Perhaps it was a good thing no one had made it here yet. He really didnā€™t want to go replacing any of these things. It would be quite a shame. Especially the upholstery. Many of the chairs were quite old, and all of them had been swiped from the same house, after the former occupants had died. He slumped the two of them onto a loveseat and then crossed the room to settle himself in his armchair, resting his chin on his knuckles and waiting for the two to wake up. His headache was starting to abate, or perhaps he was forgetting about it under the light of much more interesting things. The foul mood still lingered though, despite the dissolving of the pain in his skull. Oh, he did hope the humans would hurry up and wake up already. He hadn't hit them that hard, had he?

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Character Portrait: Drake Stuart Character Portrait: Juliet Lockwood Character Portrait: Andrew white
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Andrew White and Juliet Lockwood

Andrew was following a lead he got from his 'sources' pertaining to the location of his father, but he had very little time to investigate and he had to leave as soon as he got the news of the lead. His maid was accompanying him, since she demanded to come along. Andrew was a bit lenient concerning having things be demanded of him, but he didn't follow a command unless it meant his survival. He was making a foolish mistake due to emotions being brought into the situation, so he would have to pay for being naive. He should have investigated the lead before jumping in blindly, since he could have saved himself from the experience that he was soon to be put through. He was wearing a formal suit and Juliet was wearing attire of the same sorts, since he didn't know how to blend in and it would be quite hard to with the mannerisms he had implanted into him by his servants and family. They were both at fault that day, since Andrew was too distracted by emotions to behave normally and Juliet was not prepared for fighting. "Juliet, is what we're doing right?" Andrew asked this simply yet important question. His mind was jumbled by emotion, so he decided that he would need input from someone besides him. He enjoyed having people add to a conversation or plan, since people could usually find holes in his plans and help fix those holes. He didn't really care about the fact that he was rich, but it was convenient to be able to bribe the staff of corporations. "I don't know if it is a good idea to go out without investigating." Juliet was somewhat aware of the dangers of their situation, but she also knew that Andrew could not simply ignore this lead.

Andrew had a perfect carefully measured walk and his eyes seemed to be dull, but he was analyzing all clues around him. He was a bit calm, but he wasn't going to risk being kidnapped or anything like that. He has scared many adults by simply making use of his extensive vocabulary. He mostly enjoyed messing with psychologists, since they usually thought that he had a simply god-complex or something textbook. It was the middle of the day, so Andrew thought that it would be a perfect time to initiate his plan to get his father back. He knew that the lead was probably a trap, but he also knew that this person knew quite a bit about his father. Juliet was much more observant and careful, since she was tasked with protecting the young heir to the White fortune. Many people that Andrew was a messed up child and they were right, but he had no trauma as a child unless losing his father counts as trauma. He was simply pessimistic and cynical by nature, yet people always wanted people to have a history for being bad. He didn't enjoy being pitied upon by people who knew of his father not being around, so he usually utterly scared those who angered or bother him enough. He would never let anyone who bothered him know they were bothering him, since he knew that he could come up with a plan to take people out without being caught. Quite frankly, the idea of being jailed didn't appeal to him and he tried to not be caught when on his money making endeavors.

A man attacked the duo, but Juliet wasn't very prepared to fight and she was still busy getting ready to fight to notice that Andrew had already been knocked out. Andrew had a very weak physique, since the idea of exercise didn't appeal to him in the slightest. He could barely run and he usually never needed to directly interfere with his plans, so he barely had any chance to exercise. She dropped the knife that she had in her hand, but she couldn't grab any of the other knives or risk getting killed. She had managed to barely dodge a bit of the hits directed to her, but she was struggling and this was not normal of someone of her lineage. She was a bit fueled by anger, so her attacks were sloppy. She eventually knocked out the same way her master was. Her trainers would be very disappointed in the way she acted, since she had been trained to fight against this very type of situation. Or at least she thought that she had been trained to handle these types of situation. If, it had been anyone else, then she would have probably beat the person. It was pure luck that their capturer decided to bring along Juliet, since Andrew would not be able to fend with himself unless he simply stayed out of the way of others. It was quite embarrassing for rich folk to be knocked out so quickly, but Andrew didn't care about his pride. He would actually enjoy his stay at Drake's manor. That is, if Andrew even survived his days there. Andrew was not afraid of death, since it would happen to everyone and he would be sure to leave his mark on the world before he died. To him life was a board of chess. The players were him and the world, but he only saw this as a challenge and not an unfair game.

The two were dumped into an evening room, but Juliet would be the last to wake up and that would work in their favor. They were both lucky that they would only be waking up with a slight headache and not a serious injury, since it would be quite hard for Andrew to formulate any effective plans while constantly being annoyed by mental pain. Andrew's first response to being awake would be to compliment the room, if he was awake that is. They were both slumped into a loveseat, but Andrew would pay no heed to that fact once he became conscious.

He became conscious, but he was still a bit groggy and he was still processing what recently happened. He had no idea what time it was, but he didn't want to bother looking for a clock. He wondered where or who he was, since he had temporary amnesia and his memory would return once he could work out his thoughts. It didn't take much time before he quickly remembered his name and other essential facts about him. He wondered what he was doing sitting down next to Juliet, since he thought that he was supposed to be doing something. Wait? What was I doing earlier? He thought this simple thought and a flash of recognition was on his face, since he remembered that he had lost consciousness suddenly after being subjected to a hit. He rubbed his head and the spot where he was hit hurt a bit, but not enough to call attention to it. He rubbed his eyes and his vision focused, so he could now see the man in an armchair. He guessed that this was the man that abducted him, but he wondered why he wasn't tied up or anything of the sorts. He quickly thought that the best response would be to stay calm and collected, since he could be killed any second and he didn't have Juliet's protection. He wasn't stupid enough to react chaotically, since he knew that it was better to not show fear in front of a person captors. There doesn't appear to be anyone with him, but there is always the chance that we are being monitored by someone. He appears to have an adequate taste for furnishings, so I'm guessing that he may not need any ransom money. He's probably just a person who is bored and wishes to torture me, so I don't have to worry about imminent death, yet. His thoughts were calm and he was looking over them, until he remembered that he had company. "Excuse me, but may I please be introduced to my kidnapping host?" He had a calmness in his voice and he was sure to address the fact that he knew he was kidnapped with subtlety, but it took him a bit of time to come up with a correct question. He hoped that he could perhaps get a name from this person or a reaction, so he could properly react to this person. The lead for his father was a true lead, but he would never find his father and Drake was not the one to give the lead. Andrew guessed that he had just been unlucky, so he decided to not bother asking about his father. He knew that Juliet would probably instinctively attack Drake, so he decided to warn his 'amiable' host about his maid. "I would be careful of my maid, since she can be quite feisty and you seem to be a dangerous man." He was simply stating facts and he was thinking of ways to escape his prison, but no plans seemed plausible. This man hadn't trapped him with shackles or anything of the sort, so it would be foolish to try escaping without knowledge of the house. He also knew that this man could probably kill Andrew in one hit, since this man seemed to be able to beat one of the world's best martial artists in a couple of blows. The odds were not in his favor, but he could try to make use of his situation. He patiently waited for a response to his simple, yet important question.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Linnet Mallory Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Hassen Heindrick
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#, as written by slcam
Linnie hardly noticed when James scooted over to sit next to her, still tightly grasping what should have been a mortal wound. She was far too wrapped in her own frantic thoughts, desperately trying to come to terms with what she had just learned. She would have never believed something like that normally, but this was far from normal. Even so, it was enough to make her question her sanity. She desperately hoped that she was dreaming, but this was far too real. It was also far too horrible. How could Drake want her soul?

Her eyes widened for a moment as she hesitantly thought back to Lira's body. The chest had been ripped open, and Linnet wondered...had Drake taken Liraā€™s soul? The thought made her tremble violently, and she felt as if she would fall apart. She tightly gripped her head with her hands as if to keep this from happening. Her trembling began, slowly, to subside, as the voices around her fell silent for a moment.

She edged her eyes up, nearly jumping when she saw James next to her. Though he was still coated in his own blood, it seemed like the flow was beginning to ebb. Her mind was suddenly void of all thoughts but one, though a faint panic was writhing somewhere in the back of her mind. I thought he would be dead. A faint sense of relief flowed through her, though a part of her knew something was not right about this. However, just seeing him next to her helped her feel calmer as the panic lessened, pushed to the back of her mind. She wondered if the wound was somehow not as severe as she thought, but as her eyes drifted to the blood that drenched his hand and the side of his neck, she knew that was not the case. How could anyone survive something like that? The answer struck her suddenly. No human would be able to survive that wound.

For a brief moment, Linnie felt something akin to betrayal. It felt like she had been deceived, though she had drawn her own conclusions. She recalled the hungry look in his eye earlier, and Drakeā€™s threat that James would not eat until she was dead, and that James would tear her throat out if she did not die soon. Was James an angel of death like Drake? Somehow, that did not feel right. James seemed almostā€¦ innocent in a way that Drake could never seem. She remembered the gentle way James had tended to her wounds. She rubbed the strip of cloth on her hand thoughtfully, as if confirming it was real.

Suddenly, she heard a shuffling. Her eyes quickly found the source of the noise. It was Hassen, awkwardly crawling toward them. Linnie watched him with wide eyes full of terror, frozen to the spot. Everything in her wanted to run, but she found herself unable to as the man inched forward. Perhaps she felt that she could not abandon James, or maybe she was just panicking. James moved slightly, positioning himself between her and Hassen, brushing her shoulder. Hassen roughly scooped him up and slung him over his shoulder with a grimace as he straightened. He then turned and hobbled off, taking James with him.

As the other two turned to follow him, Linnie let out a gasping, pained ā€˜oh.ā€™ She looked as if she would cry as she helplessly watched them walk away. Suddenly, as if she had just been released from the floor, she sprung up, ignoring the lightheadedness from the sudden movement as she stumbled after them.

She stumbled to the corner of the hall, stopping to lean against the wall as she watched the group turn another corner. The dizziness slowly subsided as she silently hurried after them, repeating this procedure until they reached the kitchen and disappeared inside a door. She had almost decided to go in after them when Hassen suddenly came out once more, still carrying James.
Though Linnet felt completely helpless, she doggedly followed, not allowing the shuffling man out of her sight. She suddenly realized they were back in the hall where their ā€˜roomsā€™ were. She stopped, watching nervously as Hassen stood before a closed door. Suddenly, he shifted James down onto the floor, adjusting the boy awkwardly before leaving.

After what seemed like a long time, Linnie could no longer hear Hassen and she cautiously started to emerge from her hiding place. She froze several times at some noise, expecting Hassen to return at any moment. A long time passed with painful slowness until she was nearly halfway down the hall. She carefully whispered, ā€œJames?ā€ as she inched closer, still focusing hard for any noise while her eyes searched Jamesā€™s face with concern.

Suddenly, she heard Hassenā€™s shuffling step returning. She dove behind a small end table in a feeble attempt to hide. Hassen never even noticed her as he entered, and Linnie did not even have time to breath before a terrible screech emerged from the room. Linnet clapped her hands over her ears, trying futilely to block out the sound. Hassen soon came out with Allease hanging over his shoulder, dead to all appearances. Long moments passed as he attempted to pick James up again, and Linnie followed them in a daze back to the kitchen. She could not stop herself.

Hassen left poor Allease in the kitchen and proceeded slowly upstairs, unaware of his terrified follower. Linnie stopped following when they came to the corridor with the closed door, the one they were forbidden from entering. Hassen took James inside and Linnie stared blankly after them, unsure what she should, or even could, do.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Linnet Mallory Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Hassen Heindrick
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James fell back into his lovely stupor, fingers slick with blood still worked into the back of Hassen's attire, though his entire form had gone limp. He woke briefly as he was dumped on the floor, staring hazily at Hassen as the other arranged his limp limbs. James could barely move at this point, and he didn't have enough thought to register what was going on, other than the fact that he was hungry. The last time he'd been grievously wounded, and most any time before that, he was healed quickly afterwards, Drake wasn't often one to leave his servant sufferingā€”at least he hadn't been before Hassen came along. But James hadn't the room for those thoughts. He was merely thinking, rather vaguely, that Hassen smelled a mixture of rotten and delicious. The prolonged physical pain had drained his soul of some key support, but the suffering and the murders he'd committed had mostly covered it up with the sticky sweet scent of sin. The boy twitched slightly, watching as the other moved away before sleep claimed him again, leaving him with the strained dreams of starvation as his only comfort.

So very slowly blood began filling his veins again, his reclined position meaning that only a small amount leaked out of the half-open wound. James was not a dreamer, not usually, but with the pain so intimate, his body sought the comfort of his brain. But the images his brain produced were not pleasant in the slightest, and caused him to dunk crazily from deep sleep back out into the open air and then down again as his body tried to find some way to level itself and heal at the same time.

As he lay, he dreamed that a voice was whispering his name, a female voice, a familiar voice. An important voice, somehow, saturated with concern. The voice sounded so real. Was it? He managed to force his eyes halfway open, letting gravity turn his head. Perhaps this was a dream. It had to be. There was Linnie. Dream Linnie, probably. Dream Linnie looked rather worried. James struggled with his facial muscles for a fleeting second before they formed a quavering smile of reassurance. Dream Linnie shouldnā€™t worry. She should leave that for the real girl. He moved to reach out for her, but found that he couldnā€™t do more than bend his fingers and lift them up slightly off his chest before his arm fell again. But it did not matter, because Dream Linnie had dissipated into the universe again, replaced by Hassen, who looked busy. Hassen was definitely real, because James could still smell him, even from a distance.

The boy barely batted an eyelash when the scream rang out, he was used to such sounds, but when Hassen returned to him and hauled him up again, James shut his eyes. He barely registered (or cared, for that matter) what was going on, however, past the fact that there was indeed a dead body, and he and the body were being shuffled around and hefted on the third partyā€™s shoulder. He clung to Hassen, the blood heā€™d so recently regained leaking out over his neck again. He eyed the body though, even though her soul was mushy with her prolonged injury, her quick death had fixed some of the rotten scent and James was so very hungry. But before he knew it his transport, the gait of which was growing increasingly jolting, had halted, and the body was dropped away, and James had Hassenā€™s shoulders to himself. Dropping back into disinterest now that the prospective meal was gone, James closed his eyes again, his instincts telling him sleep was imperative.

Trying to sleep while draped on shoulder of the other servant was not very optimal, however, and his rest was choppy and uncomfortable. His body had rejuvenated enough that he could lift his head, slightly, and he did so periodically, trying to discern exactly where he was. He wasnā€™t sure if what was going on was completely real or not, he was no stranger to hallucinations, and there was an air of improbability around this situation. Maybe because he couldnā€™t quite remember what was going on? Where had Dream Linnie gone? He wanted to find her. Sheā€™d looked so sad. Or worried. Yes, sheā€™d looked worried. He needed to tell her that she was going to be fine, because all of this was a dream. Of course it was. He couldnā€™t talk to her otherwise, now could he?

When he was laid down on a bed, James blinked up a Hassen. What was Hassen doing in his dream? He couldnā€™t quite remember, but he did know heā€™d been hurt. And Linnie had been there. Unless all that had been a dream too? But then why did his neck hurt so bad? And why exactly was he covered in blood? He felt a weight on his shoulder, and let his head fall to see what it was. Hassen was laying perpendicular of him. And he smelled rather dead. No, he didnā€™t, but something smelled dead. What was dead? Or was he imagining that as well?

The constant falling in and out of sleep muddled James past the point of comprehensible thought, so he emitted a small whine of dissatisfaction and lifted his head, trying to escape Hassen, whom heā€™d decided was the cause of his disorientation. He could not gather the energy to do much more than twitch a bit, and his head fell back after a few tiring seconds. He heaved a tiny sigh rolling his head towards the door, where the mouthwatering scent of death was not nearly as strong. Maybe if he just woke up again things would not be so confusingā€¦.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Drake Stuart Character Portrait: Juliet Lockwood Character Portrait: Andrew white
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Drake leaned back slightly in his chair when the boy stirred. The young creature moved around a bit, obviously trying to make sense of his location. Drake smiled pleasantly when the blue eyes found him. The boy seemed to contemplate some thought for a few moments before speaking. The daemon tilted his head slightly to once side, resting his chin in the V of his index and middle finger. "Ah, good morning, Mister White, glad to see you've woken." He said pleasantly enough, his eyes flicking to the woman's form briefly to see if she had any notion of stirring as well. Alas, it seemed that he'd afforded the boy a lighter strike than he had the maid, because she was still unconscious. Oh well, she could catch up later if she needed to. "My name is Drake Stuart." he said disinterestedly, gaze wandering across the papered wall and across a cabinet displaying a regiment of china dishware and figurines. So he was a kidnapper now? Well, it was no lie, but Drake preferred more...refined terms for the hobby. Kidnapper sounded so...vulgar. And the boy would learn that it wasn't the proper word to affix to his host soon enough, once he realized he was in much deeper than a simple kidnapping.

When the boy spoke again, Drake couldn't help but smirk. "Oh, I'm not the one you'd best watch out for. I won't hurt you or your maid, lad, and I doubt she'll hurt me very much either." He spoke lazily, voice catlike and meandering. "But I suppose I should get to the point, now shouldn't I?" He mused, eyes sparking with sudden interest. "You do want to know what you're doing here, don't you? I wouldn't advise blundering about like an idiot, and you don't seem like one, lad." he spread his arms again, much more engaged now that he could speak.

"Listen close though, boy, I don't like repeating myself. We're going to play a game of last man standing. But what's a game without rules? There are four, or perhaps five, I'm not sure if Hassen's cleaned up yet, other boys and girls wandering my lovely manor, plus my two servants, James and Hassen, who are under orders to help those who take a liking to dawdling to speed the game up a bit. The last one alive wins the game, to put it simply. But there are a few other rules. You may not under any circumstance enter the library, my quarters, or the closed door on the second floor, or you will lose the game promptly." he flashed his teeth for a moment, but his smile was more feral than amiable by this point.

"Also, please do try not to get blood on the rugs, if you feel the urge to bleed to death, or inflict such an end on another. James isn't very skilled at cleaning the rugs." Drake chuckled briefly to himself. When would James break and decide he needed desperately to eat? It might be a few hours, long enough for the boy to recuperate, but Drake was confident that he ultimately end up hunting Miss Linnet down to stop the pain in his throat. He would need to remind the boy to clean up Dominic. And Lira. And his own blood. And Allease, after Hassen finished with her. Goodness, wasn't James slacking on his job. Drake made a mental note to reprimand the boy later.

Drake pulled himself back to the conversation at hand. "Oh, and if you kill my servants, I will be most displeased, so do try not to do them much damage or I'll have to hunt down replacements again." He shifted in his chair, his eyes moving back to focus on the boy before him again. "I do think that is all. Any questions?" He folded his hands in front of him, the faintest of smiles on his face, as if he'd just made mindless conversation about the weather instead of telling a captive human the rules of a game in which he must kill other humans to win. Win an impossible prize. He wondered if any of the longer staying residents would realize that there was no point to playing the game, they would die eventually, because he never let the population of his fair little home dwindle too far.

But they were humans, blinded by the immediate future, and they likely wouldn't live long enough to see the patterns, with the exception of Linnie, but the girl would die soon enough.

Humans lived such futile lives, didn't they.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Drake Stuart Character Portrait: Juliet Lockwood Character Portrait: Andrew white
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Andrew White and Juliet Lockwood

Andrew had noticed his location, but he had found no noticeable weapons or things to help him escape. Juliet was due to shortly wake up, but only after Andrew and Drake finished their conversation. Drake seemed to genuinely be happy that Andrew woke up, but Andrew knew better than to believe first impressions. "My name is Drake Stuart." Drake had just given Andrew a piece of information that would have been valuable, if Andrew had deep enough connections to know who Drake was. Andrew quickly tried seeing if he heard the name before, but nothing noticeable sparked in his memory. Andrew planned to catch Juliet up to speed later, but he would let her sleep for now. Andrew noticed that he had let the word kidnapper slip out, so he mentally slapped himself. He knew that it was stupid to aggravate captors, since it could get him killed earlier than he was supposed to be. He then noticed that he wasn't to be held for ransom, since his maid was brought along with Andrew. Many scenarios played out in Andrew's head, but none of the scenarios seemed plausible.

"Oh, I'm not the one you'd best watch out for. I won't hurt you or your maid, lad, and I doubt she'll hurt me very much either." Drake spoke lazily and as if he wasn't holding Andrew captive. Andrew wanted to kill Drake, but he couldn't simply kill Drake without figuring out what he was doing here and even if he could kill Drake. Andrew saw that Juliet was unconscious as well, so he guessed that Drake must have been extremely powerful or fast to be able to take down a great fighter like Juliet. "You were able to dispose of us easily, so I doubt I should be much of a threat to you." Andrew had a calm and amused tone in his voice, since he wasn't scared at all. "But I suppose I should get to the point, now shouldn't I?" Drake seemed to ask a rhetorical question, so Andrew saw no reason to answer. However, Andrew was interested when he saw that Drake's eyes sparked with interest. "Oh?" He raised a brow, since he would finally be told why he was brought here. "You do want to know what you're doing here, don't you?" Andrew would have replied to Drake's question, but Andrew decided to wait until Drake finished speaking. "I wouldn't advise blundering about like an idiot, and you seem like one, lad." Drake spread his arms as he complimented Andrew, but Andrew guessed that Drake meant this as a fact and not a compliment. Andrew would not make mistakes, since his life could be hanging by a simple thread. He would carefully plan his every word and movement, but he would want to seem like a rich and stupid child to those who haven't spoken to him.

"Listen close though, boy. I don't like repeating myself," Drake just revealed that he may or may not have a short temper, but Andrew kept note of this anyways and added the information to his arsenal. "We're going to play a game of last man standing. But what's a game without rules? There are four or perhaps five, I'm not sure if Hassen's cleaned up yet, other boys and girls wandering my lovely manor, plus my two lovely servants, James and Hassen who are under orders to help this who take a liking to dawdling to speed the game up a bit. Drake seemed like a psychopath, but Andrew wasn't fazed in the slightest. He now knew that he was in a sort of battle with others, and this strangely excited him. He now decided to act stupid and clumsy around the other players, since he wanted to seem as weak as possible. He wouldn't try taking anyone down, yet. He needed to figure out the weaknesses of people before attacking, since people could have nasty skills that could hinder Andrew's plans, "The last one alive wins the game, to put it simply. But there are a few other rules. You may not under any circumstance enter the library, my quarters, or the closed door on the second floor, or you will lose the game promptly." Andrew knew that Drake was possibly twisting the rules to his own advantage, since Andrew would do the same thing if he was in Drake's position. He guessed that he had been a late addition to the game and that he was simply a replacement, but he wasn't sure of Drake's intentions, yet. He didn't plan to enter the rooms he wasn't allowed to, since he guessed that losing meant death or something equal to that. He could try planning a revolt, but that would be boring and it wouldn't entertain him enough. He decided that he would write a journal before he died, since it would be a good idea to allow those who followed in his place have a certain advantage over Drake. He planned on dying, but he also planned on enjoying his life.

I will make this pitiful fool regret ever taking me into his little games. He will not forget my coming to his house, since I will ruin his games before I die. He licked his lips, since he planned on causing quite a bit of damage to Drake's games before he died. He was determined to mess up Drake's plans and cause anarchy to befall Drake's life. He was planning out so many things for the future, but he then remembered that it would be best to not think too much into the future and forget about the present or past.

"Also, please do try not to get blood on the rugs, if you feel the urge to bleed to death, or inflict such an end on another. James isn't very skilled at cleaning the rugs." Drake just told a joke, or at least Andrew thought Drake did. Andrew didn't plan on getting blood on any carpets, since he had seen how annoying it could be to get blood out of carpets. Andrew wondered if he could make any mediocre alliances, since it would be easy to blame someone if he seemed harmless. "I do think that is all. Any questions?" Drake folded his hands in front of him and he had a faint smile, and Andrew had the same sort of devilish smile on his face. Andrew was happy that he had been brought here, since he would finally have a place to put his genius to use. "I have one question. Do you have a notebook I can write in?" Andrew already had a sketch pad that he used to write on, but it was little and he couldn't use it to do much. He wanted a big notebook, so he could write a journal in it. He would write his journal in a code, so only intelligent people could figure out it's meaning and so he could hide it's true meaning from those who suspected him. He wasn't going to ask any questions other than this, since he could easily figure out the questions he had on his own. And, it wouldn't be enjoyable to be given the answers up front, since figuring out things was half of the fun.

Juliet then awoke and she quickly grabbed for her knife, but Andrew stopped her hand from reaching her knife. "Do not show such hostility in front of our host, you're being quite rude." Andrew laughed a bit, since his statement seemed ridiculous. To psychologists he would seem as if he was in denial, but he was simply enjoying the situation. However, Juliet was extremely confused. She had been knocked unconscious by the man in front of her, yet Andrew insisted she not attack the man in front of her. "I'll explain everything later." Andrew whispered this in her ear, but he did this for no reason. It wouldn't matter if Drake heard him, but it would be funny to make Drake strain to listen. Juliet reluctantly calmed down, but she was still prepared to fight at any second. She wasn't going to anger Drake, but she wasn't going to let her guard down. Andrew knew that Drake could kill both Juliet and Andrew, since Drake was able to knock both of the unconscious without trying much. Andrew didn't want to lose his only protection, since he needed Juliet to survive in the mansion's game. Andrew wished that he could play piano and think of plans, but he didn't know if the mansion would have a piano. Andrew was a dangerous person, but he wouldn't let the other tenants know this fact. He wished to hold the advantage of surprise, since he would have to kill the other tenants to survive. He wasn't going to kill Juliet and Drake would not be able to convince him to, since Drake held no leverage against Andrew. Drake could simply kill Juliet himself, but this would only leave Andrew without a reason to play the game. Drake could threaten Andrew with torture, but Andrew would eventually get used to the pain and learn to dull the pain. Andrew didn't want to kill Drake, since he saw a challenge in Drake. Juliet would like to get rid of Drake as soon as she could, since Drake was a threat to Andrew. However, she had to respect Andrew's wish to not kill Drake. Andrew would not interfere if Drake was getting killed, since Drake dying would be of convenience to Andrew.

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Character Portrait: Dante Valentine Character Portrait: Saber Cantin
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Truly, Saber expected everyone to serve him. He expected the woman to serve him because she was there and the servant was clearly not going to do it. So she was expected to fall into the position. Besides, Saber was too busy thinking to be bothered with preparing food. There seemed to be a game afoot, but no one was going to explain the rules. At the very least, Saber gathered that the game involved bloodshed which was enough to make him very interested. A part of him knew that the thought of hurting someone else should not cause him quite so much joy. A part of him knew that that was sick and twisted. However, the rest of him enjoyed being sick and twisted too much to pay morality much mind. Morality was for the weak who were bound by societal laws. When one had enough money to buy any sort of entertainment, it was easy to get bored easily. One had to invent new ways to entertain oneself.

Now, if Saber wanted to get very psychoanalytical about the whole mess, he probably could have drawn a line between the lack of attention he received and some sort of traumatic event in his past. There were sometimes fuzzy memories of something dark, but he mostly just ignored them and did his best to block those out. Besides, seeing blood seemed to help him forget that deep aching emptiness. Seeing others suffering was just soā€¦so fulfilling. It calmed that strange ache and allowed him to focus on other things as well.

Now, Saber wished someone would explain the rules of the game so that he could get on with playing. And with anything Saber did, he expected to win. And he expected to have an absolutely brilliant time as he carved his way to victory. For a moment Saber spared a thought about that bleeding man that the servant, Hassen, had been carrying. If Saber knew anything about blood loss, and he liked to think he was nearly an expert, that man probably should have been dead. So what, then, had been keeping him alive? Was something else afoot? Somethingā€¦supernatural? That thought made a chill run down Saberā€™s spine, a rare occurrence. It was difficult to tell if the shiver was of fear or excitement, though. Perhaps of both, since he was so rarely afraid of anything anymore. Knowing that he could still feel a little fear was just too wonderful for words. And even more exciting.

If there was something supernatural involved in what was going on here, then that increased the risk. As well as the ultimate payoff. It meant that Saber did not know everything that was going on which both amused and irritated him. Saber liked to be in control, but he also enjoyed some surprises. Soon enough he would know everything that was going on.

Saber noticed the womanā€™s slight amusement at his glance and smirked in response. Oh, she would be fun to figure out. He wondered what would ultimately happen to her if this game was going to go as he expected. How long would she last? For a moment, he openly measured her, considering her height and weight. Would she be able to fight against someone who attacked her? Saber was youngish and slender, but he was fast. He doubted he would be able to overpower some if he was confronted physically, but he could escape fairly easily.
Now was not the time for that. There was no reason to hurt the woman right now. Especially because he was not bored. This new situation was providing enough entertainment to keep him busy for a while. With a slight chuckle, Saber shook his head. He really needed to stop getting so ahead of himself and enjoy the present.

ā€œA snack, yes. A proper meal, though, not particularly. There has never been a reason for me to learn,ā€ He said with a strangely genuine-looking smile as he turned to the woman for a moment. He then continued his search. After a little digging he found a few rolls and some jam. He also found a knife. Though, unfortunately, not a particularly sharp one. He may want to find one for later. For protection, of course. Saber piled his finds onto a plate and carried it over to the table. Sitting down, he ripped into the bread and started to spread a sizable portion of jam on it.

Setting

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Hassen Heindrick Character Portrait: Dante Valentine Character Portrait: Drake Stuart Character Portrait: Saber Cantin
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#, as written by Mela
Mrs. Dante Valentine


Dante sat quiet, reserved, watching the young man before her. Part of her wanted to run out of there, but the cold layer of numbness she had donned since waking up to this mess, in this placeā€¦ well, it certainly kept her in place, oddly calm in the midst of chaos and all of these new, disturbing experiences. She feared her mind might collapse upon itself if she ever let go of this layer. Perhaps she would forever be forced to wear it to preserve her sanity and her ice cold ability to logically deduct things easily enough. Dante knew she was an intelligent woman, but sometimes, especially right now, she almost wished it had not been so. Things would have been much easier to her had she been dumb enough to not fully recognize the situation she was in.

But then, had she been dumber, she would most likely soon look like the gruesome, dead body she had seen practically hollowed, all of his inner working gone, as the tall, blondeā€¦ creature, had put him on his shoulder and dragged him along, as though he had merely been a sack of potatoes or flour. She had such trouble figuring out how something like that could be normal in such a way. It was beyond her. She was missing pieces of the puzzle it seemed, and she did not particularly like that thought. It displeased her quite a bit, in fact. She needed those pieces, she needed more knowledge, she needed someone who could answer her many question.

What is going on? Why am I here? What exactly happened to that dead man? How come the servant does not speak and where did he get his horrid scar? Will we ever be let out of here? Am I dead? Who and what is the blonde, tall male, and why did he have red eyes? Why does everyone seem to think of pools of blood in the hallways as normal? So terribly many questions completely unanswered, and she wondered if she would have to figure them out herself or actually find some truthful being here who could talk, and who knew enough. She doubted the likeliness of that, and so, Dante merely sat quiet, doing nothing.

However, when Saber spoke, answering her question with an almost lighthearted, genuine smile, she looked into his eyes. It was all the reaction she seemed able of. It was no interesting conversation, and she did not wish for this young man to figure her out the way his eyes so seemed to try to. But she did wonder at his smile. What did he have to smile for? The last thing Dante felt like doing, was smile. She doubted anything could wring a true smile from her anytime soon. Not in this place. She was much too dissatisfied.

She watched him quietly as he finally sat with his ā€œsnackā€, not having said a word in response as of yet. Then finally she cleared her throat tactfully, blinking once, green eyes ever observant of Saberā€™s every move. ā€œI see,ā€ she noted easily, her voice containing no actual emotion, yet it was not entirely cold either. Somehow she had found the most perfectly indifferent, observant yet not hostilely cold tone of voice. It was a wonder, really, but she supposed the numbness coated her voice along with her mind. She would not be surprised if it happened to be so.

ā€œYoung men rarely do,ā€ she then added, tilting her head slightly as she watched him. ā€œI suppose that is nothing uncommon.ā€ She blinked only once then, no other expression touching her face. For some reason she wanted to converse with this person, but she did not wish to breach the more serious subject of the situation they both seemed to find themselves in. This was highly uncommon.

Setting

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dante Valentine Character Portrait: Drake Stuart Character Portrait: Juliet Lockwood Character Portrait: Andrew white Character Portrait: Saber Cantin
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The human looked interested, but was it genuine of just a mask over inner fear? Drake didn't know, and he didn't particularly care. If the boy was interested, well, that was good for the game, and if he was internally scared stiff then, well, he'd die and that was good for the game too, wasn't it. The question about a notebook caused the daemon to lift his eyebrow for a moment. What would he want that for? Drake contemplated refusing, but then decided against it. Perhaps it would interesting to see what the human child wanted it for. "You'll have to ask James or Hassen about that, they're in charge of the supplies and such." He said, for he really didn't want to deal with searching something suitable out, he was too busy a man for such trivial things. And perhaps it would get the boy locked further inside the game, since at the moment he was completely separated from it, as there had been no other humans to collect, no one to create any sense of tension. But speaking of humans, Drake realized that he'd almost completely forgotten about the two less recent arrivals, the quiet woman, Miss, no, Mrs. Valentine, and Mister Cantin. He'd left them to Hassen, but the man couldn't verily explain to them the nuances nor the rules of the game.

At that moment, the female started, moving towards a weapon with her first conscious movement. Drake tensed, preparing to counter whatever attack she had in store, though it wouldn't bother him much to take any wound she had to offer, it would let them see just how powerful he was, perhaps instill a bit more fear into them. The boy stopped her, however, and Drake smirked. Of course. It was a shame though, it would have been rather fun to deal with that. the woman seemed bewildered at the boy's calm demeanor, and Drake spectated disinterestedly, resting his chin on one hand as he waited for them to be done with whatever trivial human things they were doing so he could get on with things. He whispered something to her, perhaps he was planning something? That would be entertaining. Young mister White seemed an intelligent boy, it he had something up his sleeve it would be most amusing to watch it unfold, whether it succeeded or failed was beside the point. So long as the boy didn't disappoint him like Lira had, flailing his knife around like an idiot and ultimately finding his end by the hand of a frightened little girl. The only worrisome thing was the woman, who seemed to be the boy's protector, as Hassen had looked over his master, as the stupid, sweet little servant still did. Such servitude was unthinking, and it would be very difficult to tear apart. But that was part of the fun, wasn't it?

When he deemed the child was done conferencing with the woman, Drake stood, stretching his spine and folding his hands behind him. "Well, come along then, boy, I'm sure the others are most anxious to meet you." he said dryly glancing at the human before moving towards the nearer exit to the front parlor, the one that passed through the main hall. He'd check the kitchen, first, though he wasn't sure if the humans would still be there. It was worth a shot though, and he could explain to them where their quarters were at the same time.

As they passed the hall that ultimately led to the humans' quarters, Drake paused for a moment, pointing down the hall. "Your quarters are down that hall and to the left from here, if you so wish to use them." He informed the humans, then continued on down the hall. They'd be able to find their way back from the kitchen if they wished, it was a nearly straight forward path.

The two humans he'd been looking for were indeed in the kitchen still, Drake was delighted to discover. He beckoned to the boy before stepping through the doorway to the kitchen, examining the two. They seemed to be making aimless small talk and the male had scrounged up some food. He smiled slightly, turning to see if the two humans he'd been escorting had made it inside.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Valentine, Mister Cantin." He said pleasantly to the two humans, offering a shark tooth smile.

Setting

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dante Valentine Character Portrait: Drake Stuart Character Portrait: Juliet Lockwood Character Portrait: Andrew white Character Portrait: Saber Cantin
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Andrew White and Juliet Lockwood

Andrew would have allowed his maid to fight, if he didn't care about her or his safety. He knew that she would probably have died if she fought Drake, so he decided to not waste her life. He knew that it was possible for her to betray him, but he simply didn't care about his death as long as he got a chance to have some fun before he died. If his plans failed, then so be it.

"Well, come along then, boy, I'm sure the others are most anxious to meet you." Drake just sparked a question in Andrew's mind. Had the other house guests been alerted to his presence? If so, did they know anything about him? Andrew thought this to himself. He knew that he couldn't rely on every word that came out of Drake's mouth to be true, but it would be inconvenient if the other party already knew who he was. He would prefer to be seen as a good little child, so he would not be targeted when someone was killed. Andrew looked at the direction that Drake went, then Andrew followed Drake. Juliet followed behind Andrew, awaiting danger. Andrew noticed the abrupt pause in a hallway, but he didn't know what to make of the pause. "Your quarters are down that hall and to the left from here, if you so wish to use them." Drake informed. Andrew highly doubted that the others would pass up the opportunity to kill him in his sleep, but he knew that sleep was important. Juliet wondered how she could isolate the dangers present. Andrew would explore the house later on, so he could make a map. The map would be included in his sketch pad. He planned on getting a notebook from either James or Hassen, whoever they were. He would use the notebook to store false information, so he wouldn't be suspected of anything by Drake. He would try to figure out as much as he could about Drake and his servants, so the sketch pad could be filled to the brim with information.

Andrew and Juliet followed Drake through the kitchen door. Andrew closely examined the two in the kitchen, but he didn't see anything of interest. He would have to speak with the later, under the alias of an innocent and lost child. He knew that a kitchen could be a dangerous place, so he stayed away from any storage device that could hold a knife. Of course he didn't know that there were barely and sharp knives in the kitchen, so he would have to be cautious. He knew that the two people originally in the kitchen could be as sick and twisted as he was, since he could easily hide behind a facade of innocence. Fooling Drake would be a futile and stupid effort, since Drake had already seen the intelligence Andrew had. However, the two in the kitchen hadn't, and he planned on keeping the situation that way. Juliet felt no reason to be tense, since Andrew seemed to be calm and collected. He seemed to not even acknowledge the fact that he could be killed any second. She could easily counter any knives thrown in her direction, unless her glasses were removed. Her glasses were her Achilles heel, and mostly anybody who was sensible could tell that. Andrew frowned a bit due to him noticing that his business would probably plummet, but he quickly regained his fake good appearance. "Hello, how are you?" He directed this question towards the two that were originally in the kitchen. He had a calm and friendly tone to his voice, but a calculating and cold mind was behind that voice. Anyone who had seen what Andrew had done would know that the voice would never belong to him, but anyone who hasn't seen through his facade would probably think that he was a good person. He could barely fight, but he let Juliet do all the fighting for him. He would be vulnerable for a short time if Juliet were to suddenly die, but he could simply employ someone to do his dirty work by messing with their mind. He wondered what the two were truly like. He would soon find out, that is, if he survived long enough to. Juliet didn't smile and she didn't even speak to the two in the kitchen. She had no need to speak to them, and she didn't know what Andrew was planning to do. She couldn't exactly ask him what he planned to do, while in front of people probably involved in the plan.

He was strangely worried about the business transactions and meetings that he would not be able to supervise. He shouldn't have worried about that, but he was too used to his plans always working. However, he had never experienced anything like his current situation, so he would have to adapt and learn quickly. He had thought about lurking and gaining information slowly, but that would make him seem mysterious and a plausible suspect. He wouldn't want to be the first person suspected of a murder in the house, since that would severely hinder his plans. He could easily frame anyone of anything, but it would be an annoyance to setup someone. He didn't have the materials he usually had, so that would prove another problem. Quite frankly, he relied too much on having power all the time.

He would want to die in the most painful way imaginable, so his existence would always be remembered. He wasn't afraid of Drake, but he wasn't stupid enough to say the wrong thing and get killed. He didn't want to quite yet. Andrew's strongest fear was not being able to complete his plans, and this fear could be used as an advantage if a person knew this was Andrew's fear and knew what Andrew's plans were. Andrew wished to know where Hassen and James were, but he decided that meeting the two people already in the kitchen would be a much more important task.

Setting

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dante Valentine Character Portrait: Drake Stuart Character Portrait: Juliet Lockwood Character Portrait: Andrew white Character Portrait: Saber Cantin
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There was clearly something wrong with him. Well, by othersā€™ definitions of sane and not, there was something wrong with him. However, Saber thought he was going about this quite logically. After all, there was no reason for him to be frightened or quite as disturbed as the woman looked. If they wanted him dead, he would be dead already. Clearly, this was going to be some sort of entertainment. And this was definitely a kind of entertainment that he could get onboard with.

ā€œWell, then again, young men in such positions as mine should rarely need to know such a thing. We have other things to be concerning ourselves with and other things that occupy our thoughts. Young men such as myself leave such knowledge to those who do not have to concern themselves with the greater questions in life,ā€ Saber said with a smile once more. He was quite well educated in the great philosophers and the great thinkers of the world. Much of his time, when not spent learning how to run the family business despite his wishes, was spent pondering the meaning of life and the like. Of course, he tested various theories and thoughts in cruel ways, but beneath his layers of debauchery and demented nature, Saber liked to believe he was truly a thinking man.

And then their host arrived. Saber looked up from his snack and returned the creatureā€™s shark toothed grin with one of his own. Finally, they would get to officially meet the mastermind of this game, if it were truly a game. There ā€œmeetingā€ a few minutes ago had not been particularly informative. As much as Saber enjoyed the puzzle of trying to figure out the gameā€™s rules, he would also appreciate some guidance. At the very least, he would like to know the easiest way to win this, because he very much intended to win. If he ultimately lost, well, he would make sure to have fun along the way. Saber of course realized that losing the game probably meant losing his life along with it. But what was his life worth, truly? While he believed it was worth a great deal more than most peopleā€™s lives, he had often viewed it as something he was more than happy to lose in the pursuit of entertainment. If he was a proper Christian, then he probably should have feared the afterlife.

Thankfully, he had no such spiritual qualms. If he had a soul originally, Saber was fairly confident he had already lost it along the way. Who knew though? It was not worth Saberā€™s time to truly contemplate. Why should he work so hard in this life for a reward that he only received when he was dead? That would make this life awfully boring.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Linnet Mallory Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Hassen Heindrick
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Sleep became fitful quickly. The weight on his shoulder, the gash in his throat, James could not stand it. His body was waking up slowly, in spits and bursts, he could move his hands but not his arms, he could bend his knees but not lift his legs. He couldn't get away. Hassen had lost threat status, the male seemed content to just lay somewhat still, possibly asleep or just relaxing. James couldn't tell. His head still wasn't clear enough to use his senses to even an ounce of their capacity. The only thing he could hear was his heart thumping in his ears and the only thing he could smell was death, even with his face averted the scent was terribly alluring but painfully forbidden. Maddening, almost. Thankfully, the ribbons of skin Drake had made his flesh into were starting to close up, at least at skin level. His artery had sealed itself too, so the only blood dripping occasionally from his neck now was the slow leak from his muscle tissue. It was only a surface wound now, as if it had never been anything worse. The less crucial damage would take days to heal, however, and would cause him exorbitant amounts of pain and bleeding at the same time. Not enough to incapacitate him again, but enough. Too much.

He'd only slept for a few minutes, less than thirty, but he didn't know how long exactly. Now he needed to escape. Hassan was not a threat now, but that didn't mean he couldn't change on a dime. And James was in no state to deal with him. He didn't need to be broken anymore than he was. His trembling hand reached up and rested on the top of Hassan's head, as gently as he could, just in case the male was asleep. James certainly didn't want to wake him. It took great effort to lift Hassan's head off his shoulder, but once he'd done it he surged with triumph, slipping off the bed, knees buckling the moment his feet hit the ground. His arms stopped him from sliding all the way off, but his head was hanging down like he had no spine. It was too heavy and his neck too weak still.

James stared carefully at Hassen as he found his footing, pulling himself to his feet, wobbling wildly. His torso was slightly slumped, and his head hung down as if he was still being carried. The door. He had to make it to the door. Once he got out into the hall he'd be okay. Everything would be okay. he could slump against the wall and crawl up the stairs to the attic and hide in his room. No one would find him there. He'd be safe there.

The boy made his way painstakingly towards the door, stepping on his own feet, knees shaking. He built up a bit of momentum and ran straight into the door, pushing it all the way open and tumbling to the ground, crumpling in a small bloody pile. His head bumped the ground, making him briefly loose consciousness as all the blood in his body fell from his brain into his feet and hands. When his eyes flicked open again it was with bewilderment. Where was he? His head was throbbing. Maybe he shouldn't think, just lay here. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. He should just rest. He was feeling kind of light headed anyway. Which was kind of strange. Maybe it was because he'd taken a bit of a fall. That wouldn't explain the splitting pain in his neck, but that really didn't matter.

It took a bit of effort to roll himself onto his back, but once he did his blurry eyes landed on Linnet. Oh, what was she doing here? He smiled shakily at her, traces of bewilderment lingering hazily on his features. He probably looked a sight, like a baby dragon most like, covered in blood and bedraggled. The blood had most certainly come from the pain in his neck, but where had the wound come from? Staring at Linnie for a few seconds made everything come back in short order, however. Oh. Oh. That was how that had happened. The quavering smile dropped off his face, replaced by a pained look. She'd seemed to frightened. Was she alright now. He wished to stand up and make sure, but he didn't think he could do more than prop his back up against the wall at this moment. If he could even make it to the wall, which was a stretch.