Private Finished Ask me whats it like to have Myself so figured out

ReD · Sep 7, 2017

Lochlann was, as things went, absolutely drunk.

He was kneeling before Professor Rotmoore's door. Well, partially kneeling, partially half-leaning against the doorframe to stop himself from completely falling over. Despite his relative lack of coordination, Lochlann was still doing quite well at being quiet and maneuvering his fingers to slide the credit card between the door and the lock. It was an old trick, one that he wasn't even sure if it would work, but it seemed safer to try this than any kind of cantrip. The last time Lochlann attempted something he found in a spell book, he summoned a succubus from another world and she'd moved in with him for several weeks.

He didn't want to accidentally do that to the professor's office. It's not like Lochlann had a probably with the professor per se; the man had been nice, which alone was suspicious, but Lochlann had trashed his office. He wanted to apologize.

But he needed to get his phone first.

There was something on there that Lochlann didn't want anyone to see.

Through dumb luck, sheer willpower, or maybe a combination of both, Lochlann felt the door handle give enough that he was able to slowly pull it towards him. He slipped the card back into his pocket and Lochlann slipped into the office.

As a water horse, Lochlann's eyes were a little bit better in darkness than a normal humans. Unfortunately, they needed significantly longer to adjust than a normal human's.

Lochlann had no idea what he was walking into, but he suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

Should he have just come during the day time?

No.

He was already committed. Lochlann needed that phone.

He took another step into the office.

@World Devourer

WorldDevourer · Sep 7, 2017

The office was dark. It had no windows, but earlier it had still seemed much lighter than it was now. There were no electric lights in the room, but it appeared that the lighting of the office mimiced the sky outside. A single candelstick sat on the desk, but it had burnt down to a stub and was no longer lit. Several small items glowed around the room. A vial sealed inside a wooden container cast a ghostly pale light on the russian words which were emblazoned on the box. A pair of green spheres cast a small light from the eyes of a little yellow idol. But the office was dark, but the light from the door cast enough light over everything so that it's contents could be seen.

Behind the desk sat a chair, upon which was the slumped figure of Professor Charlie Rotmoore. His arms rested on the arms of the chair, but his head was slumped forward, hanging at the deck. A book in a strange script sat open on the desk in front of him. Charlie was asleep, sat on his throne. He looked dead, well, more dead than usual.

Just to the left of the candlestick there sat a small slim black rectangle. The phone.

The Sarcophagus, which had unfortunately blindsighted Lochlann earlier was sat beneath the coffee table, its legs splayed underneath it, drained of it's energy.

The office was silent. Nothing stirred. Nothing moved.

@ReD

ReD · Sep 11, 2017

Lochlann stood in the doorway for a few minutes, waiting for his eyes to adjust, and when they did, he was surprised to make out the figure off the professor slumped over the desk. Lochlann's eyes moved over the glowing objects, which he made careful note to avoid. In his experience, things that glowed were like lantern fish: designed to draw you in so they could kill you.

With the professor in the office, Lochlann considered leaving. He swayed, his balance challenged by the alcohol content in his blood, but after a moments deliberation he forgot what he was deliberating.

He saw the phone.

Lochlann swallowed. He took one step into the office, then another, and then he froze. He scanned the room and tried to think.

The most direct path probably squeaked. Lochlann remembered that from the other times he broke into someplace. It was better to walk the areas that was traveled less. So, Lochlann inched back towards the wall and made a roundabout way to the desk, taking one slow step at a time. Walking..right past the sarcophagus

WorldDevourer · Sep 13, 2017

In the dark, something stirred. An insect maybe, or a rodent in the walls.

In an instant, the slumbering figure of the professor was gone, the tall backed computer chair spinning in his absense.

Something gripped around Lochlann's legs, like vines, but with the clicking sound of bone on bone. An emmense spiderweb of tiny bones, which could have been easily mistaken for a rug, coiled around his legs, gripping them tight. The rug glowed with a strange blue light.

Things which could have been mistaken for curios roared into life, moving in Lochlann's direction, bladed bone claws clicking against each other, each animated with the strange blue light.

There was a blade at Lochlann's throat, and a hand over his mouth. The blade was long and thin, with a dull blood red jewel at the hilt, but most of all it was sharp. The hand that wielded it was skeletal, with a slight blue glow surrounding each bone, and connecting each bone to each other bone. Both hands was ice cold.

From behind lochlann a blue light was emitted. A pair of blue lights, casting a blue glow over the entire room. There was a cold breath from behind lochlann, evaporating in the warm office air.

"You have invaded my domain, mortal, and this is your first and final mistake. There is only darkness in your future. Darkness without knowledge, hope, or name." Hissed the voice from behind him, malice dripping from every tone.

@ReD

ReD · Sep 15, 2017

Well, Lochlann had one word for this situation, and it was this: terrifying.

If he wanted to add more adjectives, he could: fucking, horribly, immensely. But terrifying on it's own seemed to summarize the cold sweat that broke out over him as that mess of things came roaring to life. As the bones coiled around his legs, Lochlann's heart went into overdrive and all the air left his lungs but he wasn't sure where they went, because he never actually gasped or exhaled. He simply stopped breathing and that was that.

There were a few things that Lochlann hated but being trapped was one of them. So when the cold knife pressed against his throat, that was actually a relief, because he already had a jagged scar from a knife against his throat.

He swallowed and felt the blade press into his skin.

Lochlann exhaled.

He remembered how to breath, sort of.

If he realized he felt the way he did because of Guin, Lochlann wouldn't be certain if she should thank her or hate her. As it was, he wasn't thinking about Guin or why the feel of a knife against his throat was making him feel a different kind of tension.

The breath on the back of his neck was cold, but Lochlann didn't shiver. He was perfectly still, his thundering heart crashing even in his ears.

It's not like he could say anything with the hand over his throat.

So did that make his last words a curse word? Was this how he was going to die? Trapped here in this office?

Lochlann felt a cold wave crash over his body that had nothing to do with the cold skeletal hands. Not here. Not like this.

Not trapped like a damn animal.

If he was going to die, Lochlann was going to go down gutted and fighting in a spray of his own blood, not held here like Lochlann would hold a sheep back for shearing. He was not a lamb.

Lochlann was not afraid of the future proposed to him because it was one he already anticipated.

So, Lochlann swung an elbow back behind him and just prayed to whatever gods that were listening that it would collide with something, and then he jerked his other hand up towards the knife on his throat, hoping to get his hand between the blade and his jugular before it was too late.

Ooc: feel free to wreck him, he's a scrub horse.

WorldDevourer · Sep 16, 2017

Lochlann swung his elbow up, and it connected with the creature behind him. It was like punching stone, but the creature moved the tiniest amount, but just enough for lochlann to get his hand and knock the knife away from his throat, causing it to cascade onto the floor and under the desk. The bone creature wrapped around his legs briefly retracted and Lochlann managed to wriggle free, dropping to the floor. Looking up he saw the face of the bone-spider, a common feature in Charlies office, skuttling around the floor. It was much scarier up close. Sharpened bones and fangs littered it's body. It hissed at Lochlann, a grinding sound of bone on bone and began to approach him, plunging spines into positions where his hands had been moments earlier.

The creature who gripped Lochlann stood over him. It was a skeleton, clad in robes of shadow, glowing with a strange blue light, the same blue light which illuminated the spider and the carpet creature. The carpet creature began to form a pyramid to the skeletal figure's left arm, wrapping around it, and then dropping to the ground. In the figure's hand was an emmense sword of white bone. The blue light glittered along it's edge. The creature raised the sword and swung it down...

It narowly missed Lochlann, embedding itself in the wood between his legs. The figure wrenched it free with ease, standing at Lochlann's feet and raised the sword above his chest, blade pointed down. It dropped the sword.

The skeletal figure stopped, inches from lowering the emmense sword into the body of the prone Lochlann. It looked at his face. It tilted it's head to one side, and then the skin of Professor Charlie Rotmoore flittered and reapeared on it's face, glasses and all. The shadowy robes were gone, in their place a shirt and waistcoat. It lowered the sword.

"Here you reclaim your phone i presume" Charlie said, looking at the terrified Lochlann "i am dreadfully sorry for that. I am used to being woken by people with more... nefarious purpose. Adventurers and heros and the like. come on" he said, holding out a hand to pull Lochlann up "lets get you cleaned up and lets get you a cup of tea. Although this may call for something much stronger" Charlie winked.

@ReD

ReD · Sep 16, 2017

Lochlann's elbow hurt as though he elbowed a wall, but f'yeah, it let the knife scatter for the floor and the creepy bone carpet was off his legs. Lochlann was thinking maybe he should try to get the knife when he dropped to the floor but--

--holy fuck.

Lochlann was not afraid of spiders generally, but that thing was fucking creepy, and now, it was hissing, and Lochlann was drunk and had lost sight of the knife.

He scrambled backwards, narrowling dodging the sudden spiked bones that came at him, too intoxicated to realize that if he stood up he had a better chance. His eyes darted up for just a moment, looking for a window, but it was too late and Lochlann ended up on his back, looking up at the skeletal figure and holy shit that was also terrifying.

His heart screamed run run run you fucking idiot run.

Lochlann swallowed, watching the sword plunge towards him and--

--it was

the professor.

Lochlann was dead, he realized. He was laying on the ground, the room was spinning, and the professor was standing over him talking about adventurers and Lochlann's phone and drinking fucking tea again.

Lochlann swallowed. His elbow still throbbed and now so was his head. His mouth was dry. He licked his lips. He blinked.

But no the professor was still there.

Lochlann just said, mustering all the words he possibly had, "What?"

WorldDevourer · Sep 16, 2017

The professor walked away from Lochlann, who still lay on the floor. He started to pour water from a glass jug on the cabinettop into the electric kettle. He removed a pair of teabags from a tin in the cupboard above the kettle and placed them into a teapot.

"I am not used to being surprised. There is a reason why i lock my door. I am used to the kind of people who break into my lodgings attempting to kill me. Instinct and whatnot. Unfortunately, you saw the... less polite side of me due to this. But all water under the bridge eh? No harm done" he looked back at the shaking Lochlann. The kettle hissed and clicked off, and he poured the boiling water into the teapot. He grabbed the pair of mugs from earlier and placed them alongside it. "I apologise for attempting to murder you."

He looked at the tea slowly boiling in the teapot, the water slowly turning brown, the herby smell slowly filling the air and, under his breath, he said "ah, bugger it" and reached into the very top of his shelf, removing a pair of tumblers and an ornate bottle of irish whisky. He poured a generous dose into both glasses and placed them onto the table

He walked over to the desk and picked up the black mobile phone which sat upon it, and walked over to Lochlann "You came for this, yes?" He placed the phone onto the coffee table, and picked up the tumblers and proffered one to Lochlann "would you like something real to drink, to settle your nerves. Knappogue Castle 1949." He shook the glass slightly.

Charlie thought for a moment and realised something. Deep down, he was still the Lich from the island, although with a lot less genocidal plans. He needed to adapt more to lving amongst humans, if his time at the academy was to go as smoothly as he intended it to.

@ReD

ReD · Sep 17, 2017

This was surreal.

A little bit too surreal.

Lochlann blinked numbly up at the professor, letting the words sink into his head. Lochlann had hallucinated a couple of times before, which was something he wouldn't exactly admit openly, but it was true. He was wondering if this was one of those situations.

He sat up, slowly, and pinched the bridge of his nose, resting his elbows on his knees and lowering his head in the posture of someone who was either dizzy, experiencing a headache, fighting nausea, or a combination of the three.

The professor's words hit home with Lochlann.

Sorry I tried to murder you.
Water under the bridge.

Lochlann tried to get his shaking under control. It was embarrassing. But he couldn't turn off the feeling that he was in danger every time he came to the professor's office.

He took a deep breath and tried to exhale.

He finally found words when the professor offered him a glass of whisky.

"Thank you," Lochlann said. He held it in his hands, looking down at the amber liquid, and then over at his phone on the coffee table.

The whisky smelled fantastic and reminded him of something his dad would have loved. Lochlann couldn't bring himself to bring the glass to his lips, even though this was the easiest thing for him to do.

The thought of his dad finally brought another set of words to Lochlann's mouth, one that he might not have asked if he was in a better state of mind, but he was already drunk, already in trouble, and not exactly thinking of tact.

"How old are you, anyway?" he asked.

He wanted to take a sip so damn badly.

He finally did, bringing the glass to his mouth, and tasting it, and holy shit.

He could actually taste it.

For so long, whisky had been a substance Lochlann used to medicate. It numbed him, fucked up his senses, made him a less effective predator. It was why he bothered to drink it to begin with. But he'd started with whisky because it was his father's favorite drink, and there was always a few bottles of it stashed in the horse barn. He would send Lochlann's brother, Lawrence, over to the good liquor store to buy a few bottles of the stuff brewed in Ireland where he was from.

It tastes like home, his father would say, and when Lochlann tasted this, he was surprised that he understood.

Lochlann had forgotten what whisky tasted like, or maybe he just drank so much of it that he was numbed. But oh, gods, was this good.

"Thank you," he said again, his voice quiet, but some of the visible trembling was starting to decrease.

WorldDevourer · Sep 18, 2017

The boy looked slightly calmer now, the warming irish whisky had worked wonders. Charlie felt guilty for attempting to murder the boy. It reminded him of all the people he had dispatched, defending his realm from invaders. But it was all okay. Lochlann looked like a man who had seen a lot, but this was the first time Charlie had seen him where he had not looked like a scared animal, caught in the headlights, debating in an instant between fight and flight.

Lochlann asked him a question. Charlie smiled kindly, sipped the whisky and responded "For my age, hmm, well i'm as old as my bones and a little older than my teeth" he smiled at this, and then slumped a little, dropping the pretence "honestly i don't know. People only really started to count time during ancient egypt, and i'm older than that. I remember the ice age and hunting mammoths so that puts me at at least ten thousand years old, but honestly the world was cold for a really long time so i don't know" he took a sip of the whisky, it was good, the best irish whisky he owned. Not quite Dalmore 62, but pretty damn close. Irish and scottish water, there was nothing quite like it. Pure. Unpolluted. He had respect for water horses. Creatures of a primal nature. Water flew through their bones. He wondered how hard it must be to constrain that nature into a human form. Lochlanm wasn't so different from himself. Between nature and nurture, they were both trying to change for the better.

"As for the whisky, it's no problem. My turn for a question. Why do you drink to excess?" He had wondered this about the boy since they first met, where he smelt of cheap liquor and cigarettes. Was it to restrain himself, or hide something behind a shroud of inebriation?

@ReD

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Private Finished Ask me whats it like to have Myself so figured out

ReD

Sex & Death Everywhere

WorldDevourer

To summon me, sacrifice tea.

ReD

Sex & Death Everywhere

WorldDevourer

To summon me, sacrifice tea.

ReD

Sex & Death Everywhere

WorldDevourer

To summon me, sacrifice tea.

ReD

Sex & Death Everywhere

WorldDevourer

To summon me, sacrifice tea.

ReD

Sex & Death Everywhere

WorldDevourer

To summon me, sacrifice tea.