[ squints at comment. malik is minorly healed so let's assume that means he's not going to keel over from blood loss. things are looking up!(?)
denji is a bro and helps malik up, and he can't even work himself up to say a mean comment. the throbbing of the eyes is bothering him, and he scratches at the one on the back of his neck again. but he has to stop, on account of the chills he gets when he hears that voice.
hm. don't like this. ]
...Punishment?
[ he's scared again, but it's nothing like his teen angst from a moment ago. ]
[ Otome frowns as soon as recognition sinks in, her gaze growing a little thoughtful. That... it sounds like Molly, but there's such a sinister layer to that tone that it's difficult to truly assign it to him. But...
What the voice says about potential, punishment, taking the reins...
She shivers, silently. (Or maybe it's the poison.) It's difficult to give this as much thought as this demands when there's the itchiness on her arm, her hip and her back-- but there's silence so she takes a deep breath and then reaches out to rip the sleeve off her school sweater. And then again, until it's in smaller strips and she can walk over to Lucretia to fashion a sling for her arm and then to crouch in front of Denji to help bind what injuries she can. She's feeling progressively worse, but it's fine, she can function.
Malik is doing better, she hopes-- so for now, Otome rests a hand on Denji's shoulder. ]
Denji... come on. We're doing this together, okay? Lucretia, can I ask for your help in finding an exit?
[the power of creation, is it. all of that sounds bad! especially the voice, though; it sends a little shudder through her, especially the familiarity, but she does have some idea about this.]
I know how that sounds, but that's-- I don't think it's him. Don't mistake that.
[she sounds a little pained, considering otome is helping with her arm And she has cracked ribs, but she keeps herself going anyway.]
We can look, but I don't know if there's going to be an easy exit, here.
[damn that's a lot of words from that ghost monologue—he gets enough of it to know that it's Bad Guy Stuff
before he can sink further in secondhand depression, Denji, easily influenced as he is, feels the concern and determination from Otome and pops back up to his feet, inspired, probably way faster than he should considering his injuries]
Yes, ma'am! Whatever you need you can count on me!
[he coughs out some more blood and wipes it off—it's fine! he's fine!
he's gonna leave all that paper stuff to the others, and he and his floating chainsaw (is the cats paw still hanging out too??) are going to go look at the carpet to see if there's any suspicious bumps or corners askew that indicate there's something like a trapdoor hidden underneath]
[ WELP. we'll let denji keep his guinea pigging ways up, and malik is going to look at... the desk! there's papers, yes? malik is going to look at them and NOT TOUCH THEM. same for anything else on the desk. he is looking with his eyes (just the standard two, thanks) and not with his hands this time. even though his hand has an eye on it. it's fine. ]
[ Oh. Well. Denji has recovered admirably and Otome doesn't know he's discovered a trapdoor yet, so she'll smile softly (AND WITH GREAT CONCERN BECAUSE HE'S STILL COUGHING UP BLOOD) and join Malik in investigating the desk.
She'll take the hit for the team this time and probably carefully touch papers.
[with reckless abandon and no degree of caution, Denji pulls up the carpet to get a look at that door and what its deal is, hope this carpet is a mimic too]
[malik looks very intensely at the desk, and at all the papers. these papers talk about dunamancy also - a couple of the notes describe it as magic that can manipulate time and space at a small level, currently, but could possibly do more with it. there's also talk of a luxon beacon.
that's the one otome picks up, and she's hit with a flash of memory. no context, no nothing, just a familiar orange haired man holding a glowing beacon up to a woman dressed in royal garb.
the bookshelves are really just the gross pulsing body parts in that same murky liquid. it's weird, though - when lucretia looks specifically, she'll find one of them is... a wood arm? an arm made of vines. there's a faint whisper of welcome - and then nothing.
the trapdoor is here! he can open it! please open it!]
[he did look over to Otome and Lucretia for permission, head cocked to the side like when a dog wants to know if it's okay to go running after something]
Alright! Hope there's no teeth under here!
[he pulls the trapdoor open with a flourish, chainsaw over his shoulder and axe in hand (handwaves to say he retrieved it after Sad Boy Times)]
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denji is a bro and helps malik up, and he can't even work himself up to say a mean comment. the throbbing of the eyes is bothering him, and he scratches at the one on the back of his neck again. but he has to stop, on account of the chills he gets when he hears that voice.
hm. don't like this. ]
...Punishment?
[ he's scared again, but it's nothing like his teen angst from a moment ago. ]
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What the voice says about potential, punishment, taking the reins...
She shivers, silently. (Or maybe it's the poison.) It's difficult to give this as much thought as this demands when there's the itchiness on her arm, her hip and her back-- but there's silence so she takes a deep breath and then reaches out to rip the sleeve off her school sweater. And then again, until it's in smaller strips and she can walk over to Lucretia to fashion a sling for her arm and then to crouch in front of Denji to help bind what injuries she can. She's feeling progressively worse, but it's fine, she can function.
Malik is doing better, she hopes-- so for now, Otome rests a hand on Denji's shoulder. ]
Denji... come on. We're doing this together, okay? Lucretia, can I ask for your help in finding an exit?
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I know how that sounds, but that's-- I don't think it's him. Don't mistake that.
[she sounds a little pained, considering otome is helping with her arm And she has cracked ribs, but she keeps herself going anyway.]
We can look, but I don't know if there's going to be an easy exit, here.
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before he can sink further in secondhand depression, Denji, easily influenced as he is, feels the concern and determination from Otome and pops back up to his feet, inspired, probably way faster than he should considering his injuries]
Yes, ma'am! Whatever you need you can count on me!
[he coughs out some more blood and wipes it off—it's fine! he's fine!
he's gonna leave all that paper stuff to the others, and he and his floating chainsaw (is the cats paw still hanging out too??) are going to go look at the carpet to see if there's any suspicious bumps or corners askew that indicate there's something like a trapdoor hidden underneath]
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denji specifically looks at the carpet and there's absolutely a trapdoor underneath. so good job, denji.
the chainsaw is still here but the cat's paw is gone, unfortunately.]
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She'll take the hit for the team this time and probably carefully touch papers.
We're doing great. ]
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[with reckless abandon and no degree of caution, Denji pulls up the carpet to get a look at that door and what its deal is, hope this carpet is a mimic too]
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that's the one otome picks up, and she's hit with a flash of memory. no context, no nothing, just a familiar orange haired man holding a glowing beacon up to a woman dressed in royal garb.
the bookshelves are really just the gross pulsing body parts in that same murky liquid. it's weird, though - when lucretia looks specifically, she'll find one of them is... a wood arm? an arm made of vines. there's a faint whisper of welcome - and then nothing.
the trapdoor is here! he can open it! please open it!]
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i swear to god if he get welcomed into the hivemind again ]
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[ Otome draws her hand back, rubbing at her temple. Huh.
But Denji is being Denji again, so she gives Malik a little nudge and moves towards the trap door. ]
It may not be the exit we want, but... it looks like our path should probably be in this direction.
[ Denji can open the door but she is absolutely poised to set shit on fire if it attacks them. ]
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It llooks like it's the only way to go, so let's-- we should get moving, then.
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Alright! Hope there's no teeth under here!
[he pulls the trapdoor open with a flourish, chainsaw over his shoulder and axe in hand (handwaves to say he retrieved it after Sad Boy Times)]
Ta-da!
[what's inside? is it teeth?]
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the rest of the papers just seem to be briefs. he might notice the name beauregard lionett written on some of them, though.
the trapdoor is... not teeth! congrats! in fact, it leads to...]