Part 24 - Revenge [NSFW]

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[PERMA DEATH WARNING]

The boy02/25/2020

Able and the bandaged were walking to Thomas's home, Able carrying a bag of treats for Pearl, and trying to keep the bandaged man from sneaking one. They drop down from the rooftops to get to Thomas's door.

Able: I don't think anything you might have to bring would be any good.

Able is keeping a tight grip on the top of the bag.

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man is hanging over the edge of a low rooftop, before falling to the ground "gracefully".

The Bandaged: Oof. . .come now, I've spent time around the Rubbery folk. . .they like glim and fish and stuff. . . The Bandaged: -Standing up; wheezing.- . . .what's. . .what's in the bag anyways?.

The boy02/25/2020

Able moves to Thomas's door, knocking in a particular manner.

Able: Spore toffee, some glim coated candies, Thomas says she enjoys these.

Thomas opens the door, looking a little loosely dressed in a shirt with no collar and plain looking pants. This wasn't terribly unusual for Thomas when he was at home by himself. The clothing was clearly imported from the surface with yellow and black patterning on the shirt.

Thomas: Oh! Come in! Did you-

Thomas tilts to look at the bandaged man.

Thomas: Aye what's he doin' here?

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man holds their hands to their hips, their eyebrows furrowed.

The Bandaged: Oy, that's rather rude, innit? I am his patron, aren't I?

The bandaged man immediately pushes their way into the door, bumping aside Thomas a bit. Their breath has the scent of wine, but, notably, stale wine, as opposed to a fresh fungal sourness.

The Bandaged: -Dramatic. Do I not deserve to enjoy the same privelages of invitation as he does?

The boy02/25/2020

Able: He needed to go outside, sorry.

Thomas grabs the bandaged man's arm.

Thomas: Out, I do not need you harassing Pearl or making her uncomfortable today.

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man holds up their hands in faux fear, a crooked smile present on their face.

The Bandaged: Why, freckles, I wouldn't dream of it! If anything, we'd share more solidarity in being the only ones with tentacles at this gathering! The Bandaged: -Turning, holding a hand to the air.- . . .ah, but if you insist. . .

The bandaged man walks slowly towards the door, slowly moving onto one knee before fully moving into a kneeling position at the edge of the doorframe as they speak dramatically.

The Bandaged: Lord, she'd be a little disappointed though, I'd imagine. . .an opportunity to talk plainly and directly? With her best. . .nay, her only friend? Ah, how will she say how grateful she is. . ..

The boy02/25/2020

Able: -Leaning into Thomas, whispering.- I told you he needed to go outside.

Able moves inside, placing down his bag of treats in the kitchen. Meanwhile Thomas sighs heavily.

Thomas: Fine, I will allow you this one time. However! I ought to see you on your best behavior!

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man stands up quickly, smiling serenely.

The Bandaged: Ah, of course! I'll be impeccable if you'd give some w. . .er.

The bandaged man coughs, glancing at Able and moving to the nearest chair and sitting in it.

The Bandaged: . . .some water, yes.

The boy02/25/2020

Thomas raises an eyebrow and closes the door.

Thomas: That is acceptable.

Able didn't seem to be paying much attention and was checking to make sure his treats made it through all that walking unscathed. Thomas walks over to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle out of the top cabinet, a clear glass to see the liquid inside being of a pure clear water. Able looks over to Thomas.

Able: Oh? You have proper water? Thomas: Indeed, a small little luxury in the Neath.. Able: ...Could I have some?

Thomas pulls down two glass cups from the cabinet, and smiles at Able.

Thomas: Dear, the help you're providing I'd be inclined to give you whatever you wanted.

Thomas opens the bottle and fills up two glasses, handing one to Able and moving to set one in front of the bandaged man.

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man stares down at the cup, looking at the water inside.

The Bandaged: . . .clear.

The bandaged man picks up the glass, staring at the it like a child would at a new toy.

The Bandaged: . . .I. . .I haven't had clean water in. . .in a decade. It was. . .always cheaper to get wine, cause they. . .they filter the pad of fruit skins out, and. . .that business. . . The Bandaged: -Serious; slightly somber.- . . .are you sure? I can. . ?.

The boy02/25/2020

Thomas: Of course, as long as you play nice.

Thomas seems disinterested in the bandaged man's sudden change of tone. Able looks over, furrowing his brow. Was he ok? Thomas makes his way back to the kitchen to check on the treats Able had brought.

Thomas: Now lets see here... hmm... Yes I think she will enjoy these... Able: ...Is he alright..? Thomas: Mh? Yes he's been like this since he's been drinking less.. a little annoying but nothing I can't deal with.

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man nods their head seriously, and they raise the glass to their lips, tilting it back ever so gently.

The Bandaged: -Quietly.- . . .I've missed. . .

The bandaged man sets the glass down, scowling as they rub their eyes.

The Bandaged: -Scowling; a bit stilted.- . . .alright, I'm not. . . I'm not waiting forever; freckles, when is Pearl going to get here. . ?

The boy02/25/2020

Thomas: Should be here soon. Sometimes it takes her a bit when its cold outside.

Thomas is fussing over the treats. Able pushes Thomas out of the bag, and towards the living area.

Able: Oy you're going to ruin them by getting your hands all over them.

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man sits back in their seat, sighing.

The Bandaged: Ghh. . .we all walk in cold weather. London has nothing but cold weather and rain. It's not like she's going to freeze herself against the road or something. . .

The bandaged man mutters, calming down as they tilt the glass back, drinking it slowly.

The Bandaged: Mh. . .

The front door of the room suddenly slams in its doorframe, wriggling for a moment. Then, a blackish, tattered scrap of cloth is tucked under the door. . . . . .the cloth crinkles. It's not fabric; an undulating mess of blackened greenish-orange is scurrying under the door, squirming as it does so. The mass is very slowly forcing its way past the underside of the door, but the exposed tendrils are wriggling desperately, suckering onto the floorboards and pulling itself forward.

The Bandaged: -Lowering their glass; piqued.- . . .huh. Thomas, I think you have a blemmigan infestation.

The mass pulls itself past the underside of the door, wheezing like a badly dented trumpet. As soon as the entirety of it is inside, however, the mass immediately skitters on the ground, tucking itself into the corner harshly and dropping the stalk of a preserved flower on the floor, compressing itself into the smallest ball it can. Two slitted eyes, one slightly askew, are folded up in the blob, closed as tightly as possible.

???: -Quietly.- Hhhfssss. . .ssssfff. . .fffss. . ..

The boy02/25/2020

Thomas looks up, he gets a look on his face and quickly moves to the mass. Able looks confused, watching Thomas kneel in front of it.

Thomas: Dear?

He reaches out his hand.

they02/25/2020

The mass squishes up tighter in the corner; at the same time, though, several tendrils reach out a small bit, twitching as it tries to similtaneously reach out and curl up. The mass inflates a bit, before deflating.

???: -Wheezy.- . . .hhr. . .thhooo. . .

[

5:57 PM

]

The Bandaged: . . .ah.

The bandaged man raises the glass of water to their lips, suddenly very interested in the drink.

The boy02/25/2020

Thomas: Shh.. You're safe here..

Thomas looks at the flower that she dropped, picking it up. Able moves to Thomas, tilting his head.

Thomas: I think we'll need your services further, Able.

Thomas gets a very calm, but almost intensely angry posture. Able backs up a bit, a little shocked.

Able: ...Ah..? -Pausing- Oh.. Oh.

Thomas hands the flower to Able, who looks at it. He looks at the mass. Was that her? She looked like she's been through a meat grinder...

Able: You know my rates.

Thomas nods.

Thomas: I will get everything set up in a moment. Hand me the bag, mh..?

Able moves to the kitchen and grabs the bag of treats, handing it to Thomas.

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man is holding the (empty) glass to their lips.

The Bandaged: -Very clearly drinking air.- Mh. Mhm.

The mass tucks itself into the corner, inflating and deflating with a wheeze as tendrils move over its eyes, as if it were wiping or lubricating them.

Pearl: . . .tt. . .tth. . .

The boy02/25/2020

Thomas pushes over the bag towards Pearl, sighing.

Thomas: Dear we have some good things for you, take your time.

Thomas stands, taking Able by the arm roughly and pulling him towards the back room and into storage. They don't take long in the back before Able's outfit is more akin to a thief than his more proper attire. Able is pulling on the gloves and tightening his belt, a new addition is a holster for a particularly unimpressive knife.

Thomas: I think I've seen these flowers out near the university, ask around there and see if you can't find who did this. Able: Hm.

Able looks different, not just visually, but mood wise. He looked a little calmer than usual, and his responses were fairly mundane. He walks towards the door. Thomas returns to Pearl, kneeling in front of her.

***

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man sets their glass down onto the table and raises their arms, their mouth open in a very unconvincing yawn.

The Bandaged: Ah, well. . .it's getting late, isn't it Able? The Bandaged: -Standing up, walking stiffly.- Well, we'll just get out of your way, Thomas, and, er. . .yours too, Pearl. . .come, Able, I'll send you home. . .

The boy02/25/2020

Able turns around towards the bandaged man, his expression cold and annoyed. Thomas tugs on the bandaged man's arm, pulling him towards Pearl.

Thomas: Maybe she knows more about who did this, I'll need you to see if she saw anything.

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man freezes, wriggling a bit.

The Bandaged: . . .right. . .yes, quite right.

The bandaged man reluctantly kneels, pulling a sleeve back as the fingers in their hand slowly uncurl into a series of black tendrils. The bruised mass inflates up a bit from the corner, an eye slowly sliding down the shiny, fleshy mass.

The Bandaged: It, er, shouldn't be a problem. . .all I gotta do is just. . .just one touch, yes. . .

The bandaged man clears their throat, casting a small glance at Thomas and Able, before lightly pressing a single finger between Pearl's eyes. Immediately, the tendrils incoporate between them.

The Bandaged: . . .yeah. Yeah, see? Very eas-

The bandaged man suddenly screams loudly, similtaneously standing up and falling backwards, pushing Thomas aside as they land on the ground. Meanwhile, the mass pushes harder than ever into the corner, bundling up into a quivering mass no bigger than a handkerchief square and deflating conpletely flat with a loud wail.

Pearl: -Banshee-like.- SCRRETTTHHH! The Bandaged: Oh Christ!

The bandaged man's bandaged are slightly damp, picking up the sweat on their brow and temples; between the gaps of the bandages, their skin is squirming, partly from the quivering undulations of tentacles, partly from throbbing veins in their forehead.

The Bandaged: -Clenching their teeth tightly.- Good God, what was. . .

The bandaged man holds a hand to their mouth, before standing up incredibly hurriedly; they walk to Able, placing hands behind their shoulder and quickly pushing Able out.

The Bandaged:-Hurriedly.- Ah, Thomas, she's. . .well, now we know that she's in incredible pain. . .uh. . .for certain. . .right! We must take our leave now Thomas. . ..

The boy02/25/2020

Thomas seemed to get even more visibly angry at this before quickly turning to Pearl, sitting next to her.

Thomas: Shhh... come now dear.. I'm here..

Able allows himself to be moved outside. He supposed he could use an extra pair of hands.

-----

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man walked alongside Able for quite a while as they made their way towards the University. He was still shaken up about what he had seen and felt (he could still feel the sharp bottle cracking his head in), but, his thoughts were distracted when Able told him (rather bluntly) that they were heading to the University. The University! Ah, the bandaged man had spent most of the time talking about his research programs and his time spent studying there to a (mostly silent) Able, enthusing massively about the work they've done.

The Bandaged: -Nostalgic.- Ah, Able. . .academic study is so rich, Able; have you ever had your eyes bleed after inspecting a lead plaque? God, you haven't lived until you've done that. . ..

The boy02/25/2020

Able hums in response to the bandaged man. He moves to one of the bushes along the side of the university building. These were the same. He walks carefully alongside the bushes.

Able: Go ask the students if they'd seen a rubberyman on campus will you?

Able pulls out his glasses, examining things closely. There were a lot of things along the bushes, and he was looking specifically for traces of a disturbance of the wax coating.

they02/25/2020

The bandaged man holds a hand to their chin.

The Bandaged: . . .hm. I'm not sure if I'm allowed onto the property still. . .after the business with the student. . .hm. Ah, well, if you're offerring to take the blame. . .~

The bandaged man walks onto the plot, holding their hands up like a criminal caught in a crime.

The boy02/25/2020

Able isn't paying much mind to the bandaged man. He is busy inspecting the bushes. He sees a few missing flowers, but they were all re-covered with wax. He walks along slowly until he finds the stem that hasn't been covered. It was fresh, and the smell of cut plants is small but noticeable. Able kneels down, inspecting the area around the bush, hoping to find a sign of Pearl being here.

February 26, 2020

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man wanders onto the plot, looking around a bit worriedly. Perhaps they wouldn't notice him. . .he doesn't stand out that much.

The Bandaged: -Shakily; to themselves.- Alright. . .just gotta. . .look erudite, and wise. . .

The bandaged man brushes themselves up, straightening their posture up a bit higher, before stepping towards the building; in a moment, they're striking a conversation with several students waiting around the front of the University's entrance, holding a conversation with the group; after a moment, however, a quarter of the group breaks off, scowling, while the others remain piqued, talking jovially about. . .something.

The boy02/26/2020

Able picks through the bushes, finding pieces of shiny little deformed bits no bigger than pebbles. He pockets them. Able stands, heading over to the bandaged man. He looks at the students, and then the bandaged man. Able hands over these bits to him, and gestures.

Able: Seen these before?

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man is talking with a small body of students, evidently pleased with themselves; they're holding a hand to their chest, though their gaze seems to be flitting about nervously.

A Student: -Nervously.- So. . .did you really set a student on fire? Another Student: -Elbowing the first; in awe.- No, that's illegal; he made their eyes fall out, d'innit you know? The Bandaged: -Holding their hands up; sweating a bit.- No, no, the. . .the eye bleeding was an assignment- Another Student: Assignment!? Good God, no wonder you got discharged. . .was it fun, though? For a bohemian project, or. . ? The Bandaged: Yes, yes, whatever. . .what was. . .er, hold on.

The bandaged man turns to Able, holding up a hand as if they were in scandalous conversation.

The Bandaged: Dear, the tales about me have gotten too strange. . .now, what was that?

The bandaged man lowers their gaze, picking at and holding one of the bits up to their face.

The Bandaged: Hmm. The Bandaged: -Pausing.- . . .a shiny rock. Very pearlescent.

The boy02/26/2020

Able: Show the students. Ask them.

Able points over to the students vaguely.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man shrugs.

The Bandaged: I thought my description was good enough, but! If you insist. . .

The bandaged man holds the rock up towards the group of students, resuming a crooked smile.

The Bandaged: Ah, dear Summerset students. . .or whatever. Heh. Does this. . .does this look familiar to youses? My protégé, here, found it lying about and it wouldn't do if someone had lost it.

The bandaged man offers the rocks to the group of students; most of them grab them, merely to observe it and to hold the strange lumps, but one of them holds it up, tutting.

A Student: Ah, this must've been the lady's. . ."eggs." The Bandaged: Well what do you mean? A Student: There was, uh, a sort of meeting earlier. Lady brought about some of these things, saying that they were taken from one of the dead Rubbery folks 'round here. She thought they were durable eggs or somefink, but they were nothin' but amber. Shiny amber, though; she gave it out among all of them who came to 'er meeting. Say, can I keep it? Could fob it off to someone. The Bandaged: -Sighing.- Yes, yes, whatever, who hosted the dissection? A Student: -Pocketing the nacred amber.- Hell if I know; she has an office though in the, ah, abandoned hall. Teaches anatomy, or somefink. The Bandaged: E-er, what abandoned hall? Last I was here, all of them were used.

The student pauses poignantly.

The Bandaged: . . .oh. The Bandaged: -Suddenly manic.- Hey, now hang on a minute, I basically built that hall! I funded the ENTIRE construction of that department! Why. . !.

The boy02/26/2020

Able grabs the bandaged man, and drags him off easily towards the hall, nodding to the students. He didn't have time for one of his outbursts.

they02/26/2020

------------------

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man was so furious, ranting the entire time to Able as they headed towards the back of the University with many, many glances from students; several times, the bandaged man had to pull Able aside into the space between two display cabinets so as to hide from an adjunct professor wondering what on earth that screeching was from. Eventually, after many unsubtle hiding attempts (most of which only worked due to the density of students in the halls and a very convenient releasing of students from classes at the end of a class period), the bandaged man and Able are walking into a large, empty hall. The arches overhead are made of marble, the cracks filled in with melted lead; meanwhile, the floors and the pillars leading up to the arches are made of rosewood, with several boards and support pillars scorched away by. . .something. The hallway is very dusty.

The Bandaged: -Sneezing.- Ach! . .ah. . .oh God, what. . .

The bandaged man sneezes into their sleeve, groaning furiously.

The Bandaged: -Bitter.- Ugh. . .m. . .my beautiful hall. . .what happened to it. . ?

The boy02/26/2020

Able glances over to the bandaged man before starting down the hall, looking for offices that seemed to be frequented.

Able: Time.

Able takes off his glasses, stuffing it back into his shirt. He tightens his gloves.

Able: Help me look for their office.

they02/26/2020

The Bandaged: Nonsense, I built this hall to withstand time. . .I wrote sigils everywhere, what. . .what happened to them. . .

The bandaged man stumbles along; he seems to be in a manic state of mournfulness, leaning against the walls and holding it aside.

The Bandaged: This was. . .this was my magnus opus. . .did. . .did no one else want to study this. . .really? . .

The bandaged man walks along, sighing.

The Bandaged: -Lifting their head up a bit.- . . .well, at least I'm still here. . .heh. . .a-ah. . !

The bandaged man sneezes again, screeching with frustration.

The Bandaged: -Absolutely livid.- Hhggff! God, I hate this!

The boy02/26/2020

Able walks quicker, moving along the hall. He didn't want to deal with this man right not, not in this scenario. Able didn't have time for this.

Able: Focus on the task. If we take too long they might move to somewhere we can't reach them.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man scoffs, following behind Able and glancing into several (empty) classrooms.

The Bandaged: Ah, sod off with that. . .they're a teacher. Trust me, it's not a glamorous position; 's not like they'd be out and about at some mysterious, upper class club.

The bandaged man follows along with Able, sighing.

The Bandaged: . . .though, if. . .they're in an office, and not merely pretending the classroom is theirs like a twat, it'd be at the end of the hall. Thas' the only office in this place.

The boy02/26/2020

Able: Hm. Well good to know. Keep your mouth shut while I break in.

Able hurries to the end of the hall, making sure his footsteps are soft as he approaches. He keeps his gate steady. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he wondered if he'd see whoever was there.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man walks along, scoffing.

The Bandaged: Oh please. If this entire hall really is abandoned, then I bet you they didn't bother to keep the security sigils in good condition.

The bandaged man walks forward, moving past Able as a manic energy overtakes them.

The Bandaged: -Darkly; moving towards the closed office door.- . . .really, you make one student combust safely and you get kicked out of incumbency. . .no worse than phrenology. . .a lazy study. . .bet they replaced me wit-

The bandaged man slams hard into the door, falling backwards almost comedically as the slammed door (followed by their body falling onto the floor) echoes in the empty hallway.

The Bandaged: -Screeching, holding their nose.- Ach! God, I HATE these. . .doors! What is. . .

The bandaged man lifts their head, their eyes squinted in pain as they sit up.

The Bandaged: -Groaning.- . . .ugh. . .ah. I guess they. . .added. . .a keyhole. Ridiculous. . .my lock was perfectly. . .fine. . ..

The boy02/26/2020

Able kneels in front of the door, ignoring the bandaged man. He pulls out his lockpicks, taking a single pass at the lock before it silently opens.

Able: Hm. Not very high security.

Able pushes open the door, heading into the office.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man sits up, heading into the office. The office is moderately big, with enough room to comfortably walk around. In the back, there's a covered picture hanging from the wall, along with a bunch of various objects piled up into various cabinets tucked into the very far corner; a glass ball scored with cuts. . .a shelf full of what looks to be lead plaques. . .wooden boxes full of empty bottles. . .various books without titles. . .clay jars and vases sealed with wax, clinking as they move of their own accord. . .a drum? . . .all of these objects are placed in the back, almost as if they were haphazardly placed there. In the center of the room, there's a sensible wooden desk, with a plush green chair behind it and a small gas lantern set on the table. The bandaged man seems agitated.

The Bandaged: Wh. . .how disrespectful! Look, they just. . .they just shoved it all in the corner!?

The boy02/26/2020

Able moves to the desk, looking though and around it for any information on the teacher.

Able: Why does that matter right now? Look for their home address.

Able is pulling out his glasses again, putting them on to get a better look at the papers he's pulling out and searching through.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man tuts, moving to the objects in the back of the room.

The Bandaged: -Scowling.- Who cares about that, look. . .this is, this is good stuff, they can't just put it in the corner. . .that's so indecent, and just rude.

The bandaged man is tossing aside several unsealed bottles, muttering.

The Bandaged: -Very obviously lying.- . . .maybe there's something here about the professor, though. . .can't have pushed it aside without looking at something.

The papers inside of the desk are mostly managerial or classwork; most of the older papers are unreadable, as the words have blotted through from moisture seeping through and ruining the ink writing, but some information can be seen; evidently, the professor was a woman teaching "foreign biology" (based on the filed student schoolwork being various diagrams of various Zee-creatures); that she had recently finished up (given the smudgy date on the classwork); and that she was evidently of high class (based on her using both a doctorate title after her name AND a society title before it). The bandaged man pulls up a small piece of pink fabric, holding it to their ear.

The Bandaged: Huh. . .this one has secrets on it. . .

The boy02/26/2020

Able: Hm. What does it tell you?

Able seems disinterested in the papers, though he was starting to piece together how this person might be using "Science" to disregard the pain of other beings. He didn't care. He was hired. Able turns to the bandaged man, sighing.

they02/26/2020

The Bandaged: Something about her having known a woman in this office. . .apparently made a mess on the desk. Ah, but, they talked about where they could meet again! . .hang on. . .

The bandaged man puts the scrap of whisper silk aside.

The Bandaged: . . .well, that one's full, but perhaps. . .ah, there should be another scrap here. . .

The bandaged man rummages about the pile, before lifting their head up.

The Bandaged: . . .wait. Wait, right, that portrait, it's covered with bombazine and whisper silk. . .

The bandaged man grabs at the covered portrait, tearing the scrap covering it and holding it to their ear.

The Bandaged: Here's hoping it ate more secrets than it did light. . .come. . .

The portrait, previously covered by the dark pink cloth, is clearly visible. A young man, glasses askew as if they'd recently woken up, is drawn in portrait view, seated at a desk covered with several lead plaques. Their face seems gravely damaged; most of their face is covered by bandages, wrapped along a diagonal and covering some of the top and side of their head. Even the exposed skin of their chin and left cheek appears mottled, like it was covered in burns that has only recently healed. Despite this, however, they seem to be smiling, a grin crookedly worn as they flash charmingly straight teeth. Even their eyes glow with a comforting twinkle, as if they had no ill will. Strangely, the manic energy of their hair and eyes is familiar. The bandaged man turns towards Able, smiling crookedly as they hold the scrap of whisper silk to their ear.

The Bandaged: Ah, this one got the secret! . .ah, she lives in the upper district. . .a society lady, apparently..

The boy02/26/2020

Able blinks, looking at the portrait. That..

Able: Whose that?

Able points at the portrait, confused. It did look like.. No. That seemed ridiculous.

they02/26/2020

The Bandaged: What? . . .oh!

The bandaged man gestures at the portrait, holding the silk in their other hand as they grin wider.

The Bandaged: -Pointing at the portrait.- Ah, you mean this ol' bastard? The Bandaged: -Holding a thumb to their chest, tilting their head back.- That's me!.

[

2:15 AM

]

The bandaged man turns to the portrait again, holding the silk in the hand held near their hip.

The Bandaged: -Reminiscing.- . . .huh. Has it been twenty years already? . .God, it's been so long. . .

The boy02/26/2020

Able snaps back into his head, sitting back into the desk chair.

Able: Excuse me????

[

2:15 AM

]

-----

[

2:18 AM

]

Thomas spent his time trying to get Pearl out of the corner of the room, or at least get her to slowly calm down. He brought over water and blankets, and tried to offer himself as a place to hold her but she didn't seem receptive. He sighs, conceding to just sit near her.

Thomas: How are you dear?

they02/26/2020

Pearl hasn't moved much from where they were bunched up; while she's progressed to breathing in slowly and deeply, she's still quivering in the corner, and, every time she deflates, the blubbering sounds more like a drowning muted trumpet than normal Rubbery noises.

Pearl: -Labored.- Thhh. . .thoooo. . .thhhh. . .thooo. . ..

The boy02/26/2020

Thomas: At least try some of the treats, dear. Maybe they'll help you feel better...

Thomas is looking very upset. He hoped that Able was making whoever had done this suffer. He would never say so bluntly, but he wished it. Perhaps he made himself clear in the storage room enough, but he never knew with Able. He would send him home with some absinth later as well. Able would need some time.

Thomas: Able made you those toffees you liked, remember? I'm sure he'd love to hear your opinion on them..

Thomas gently moves the bag closer to Pearl.

they02/26/2020

The bruised mass shuffles tighter into the corner as Thomas moves the bag closer, uttering a quiet but spluttery wail. The parts of Pearl's body that isn't blackened turns a weak yellow.

Pearl: -Fearful. Thhhhreeeee. . .

The boy02/26/2020

Thomas feels his heart sink through his stomach, and sits back again.

Thomas: Take your time, I'll be here.

they02/26/2020

Pearl shuffles in the corner, wheezing and blubbering quietly. One of their eyes is slowly slipping lower, as if it had gotten dislocated, but a tattered tendril wipes over their face, nudging it back into place as the tendrils cover Pearl's eyes and what's left of her face.

Pearl: Thhh. . .thhhhh. . .

A moment pauses as the bruised, yellow-speckled lump quivers in the corner, tendrils folding up around the compressed face as it lets out a now muffled trumpeting. Then, a small progress; while the eyes are covered by tendrils holding it in place, and the entire bundle is pushed far into the corner, a single, thin tendril slowly squirms its way towards the bag. While it doesn't grab the bag itself, it slowly eases its way inside; a small crunch of splintered sugar, and a small piece of toffee, almost the size of a crumb if it were smaller, is pulled out, before pulling into the middle of the squashed bundle. Beyond that, though, there is no other response.

The boy02/26/2020

Thomas watches carefully, and pulls his knees into his chest. He would wait for her to feel comfortable. For now he just had to try to not cry about his dearest friend. He didn't want to scare her further. At least she was taking more steps out of the corner.

----

x[

2:40 AM

]

Able had a lot to say about bandaged looking reasonable. This took about an hour of talking about how he couldn't just stay respectable and proper. Able got frustrated and eventually on the way towards the place they knew the teacher lived he went back to his cold demeanor. It was like a switch got flipped, and Able's posture straightened and his breathing more steady. The walk was fairly long, but it was mostly taken up about discussion with the bandaged man. Before they reached the building Able turned to the bandaged man, looking very serious.

Able: Now. You aren't very strong, I don't know if you can hold someone down... Ah. You can be lookout..

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man was still in the middle of reminiscing; they only snap out of it once Able talks to them directly.

The Bandaged: -Distracted.- Gosh, I miss it. . .ought to pick it up again. . .er, what? What? Oh! . .look out for what?

The boy02/26/2020

Able: Anyone else who comes in. There will be begging, and screaming, and pleading. Make sure no one decides to be a hero.

Able turns around and starts towards the home, looking for a place to quietly slip in.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man continues following Able, before stopping.

The Bandaged: Oh. Wait. Should I stay here, or follow you and stand at the door, or. . ? I'm fairly certain loitering is going to be suspicious for me. . .you understand, right?

The house has several easy ways in; going in straight through the door doesn't seem wise, but the virtue of it being a large society house is that there are many windows, chimneys, and doors that can accommodate any would be thief. It'll be tricky, slipping past any servants in the house, but servants can be easily distracted.

The boy02/26/2020

Able: Go through the front door and talk very loudly about... whatever you want. I'll meet you at the bridge in ladybones road in an hour.

Able tightens his gloves, moving towards the side of the home. This would be nothing.

-----

they02/26/2020

There is a bedroom tucked away at the highest corner of the manor, set in the very back so that it has a great view of the candle lights of London down below (and no view of the fungal marshes nearby). In the bedroom, there is a bed with curtains placed in the middle of the room, a dressing wardrobe set beside it, and a sensible table tucked into the corner. At the foot of the table, there is a floor comfortably covered in carpet (real carpet!), a small wooden table with a gas lantern and a small stone relic set on top as a centerpiece, and a rocking chair set in the corner. A woman, gray-haired and hunched over, is seated in the chair, rocking slowly in the chair as they read from a book titled "Anarchism In Disguise", and the traditional "Slowcake's Exceptionals" on her lap. Beside her, an opened bottle of strangling willow absinthe. She is distracted, and the room is dimly lit (save for the single lantern).

The boy02/26/2020

Able quietly moves behind the chair, his footsteps silent even on the hardwood. He makes a quick movement along the side of the chair, knocking her onto the floor. He's on her, gripping her by her throat, his knee on her stomach. Even if she struggled he'd have the upper hand. Able holds her on the floor, facing up at him. Not his favorite position, she could reach him.

Able: Good evening.

they02/26/2020

The woman screams, choking up when Able grabs her and struggling against Able's weight. She's blindly grabbing, clawing at Able's face as she wheezes.

The Lady: -Choked.- Ac h! Get. . .o ff! I. . .

The woman grabs the bottle of absinthe, spilling it everywhere as she swings it into Able's shoulder, though it doesn't hurt too much; she's swinging it in a knife-stabbing motion rather than like a club, so the flat bottom is just being jabbed into the round of the shoulder.

The Lady: -Wheezing.- I don't h ave anything! Ye' can ask that- hkf! Thah' duke that he can hear from my l awyers! . .guards! . .

The boy02/26/2020

Able tightens his grip on her throat. His expression is cold and tired.

Able: Quiet. We will discuss why when you wake up.

Able squeezes now both of his hands around her neck. He is careful not to squeeze too hard as to accidentally snap her neck, that would be unfortunate.

Able: It would be easier if you just pass out.

they02/26/2020

The Lady: -Wheezing.- Y. . .you criminal. . .you blasted crimin. . .hhk. . .

The lady keeps bashing the bottle into Able's shoulder, the red fluid inside spilling onto the ground and onto their nightgown; their struggling, however, slowly ceases.

The Lady: -Wheezing; angry.- G. . .guards. . ! . .

The lady reaches out towards the door of the bedroom, wheezing as Able's fingers tighten around her neck; she swats at Able's face, digging her fingers briefly into his face, before, blue-faced, her grip goes limp, and she drops the bottle with a loud clatter. The lady lies slumped in Able's arms, her eyes rolled back in her head and her face crinkled but relaxed. Suddenly, Able can hear the sound a gunshot coming from the front of the house; after that, a familiar voice, so maniacally loud that it's clear even through the walls and halls of the manor.

The Bandaged: -Muffled; screeching.- A thousand years of misfortune on your lineage! I curse your family! I! Curse! Your! Family! Just give me the blasted thing!

More gunfire rings out, and the pained screaming of the bandaged man, before it quickly recedes; inside the house, Able can hear the footsteps of the servant occupants moving to the front, wondering what the commotion is about.

The Bandaged: -Muffled; screeching.- Give me the blasted gun knife! Drop it! I curse your family!

***

The boy02/26/2020

-----

Able had ignored the bandaged man's little adventure, tying up the woman tightly, heaving her over his shoulder. He meets the bandaged man at the bridge before leading him to an old, old sugar processing building. It was a place he seemed to know well.

Able: Stay next to the door.

Able moves to a room behind a door. Chairs and tables scattered about the room. Able sits one up, settling the woman onto it before he secures her to it properly. Able adds cuffs to her wrists just in case. People often thrashed when they figured out what was happening. Able sets up another chair, sitting in front of the woman, waiting for her to wake up.

they02/26/2020

The lady lies limply in the chair, quietly groaning.

The Lady: -Quiet.- Ugh. . .did I. . .too much absinthe. . .

The lady lifts their head, squinting in the dim room as they do so.

The Lady: -Groaning.- Wh. . .what's this, huh? . .another attempt on my life, huh? . .

The lady groans, trying to rock the chair around a bit as they try to swing their weight forward.

The Lady: -Upset; angry.- There's. . .this isn't my first assasination, y'know. . .I'm going to. . .I'm going to contact my lawyer, once ye've had yer fun. . .what, is it the duke again? I told 'im, that ring belonged to me, and I don't give a damn about what the blasted will says. . .

The boy02/26/2020

Able sits back in the chair, tilting his head.

Able: Ah, of course, you don't get it.

Able looks off to the side.

Able: I was sent here to kill you, yes, but I was sent here to kill you for assaulting a young rubbery woman. She is in a dire state because of you.

Able looks back at the woman.

Able: You will lose your head, because of your careless actions.

Able's voice is even, and a lot clearer than it usually is. He speaks fairly loudly to make sure she can hear him. He makes sure she understands completely before starting.

they02/26/2020

The Lady: -Groaning.- Ghh. . .what?

The woman scoffs, shifting in her seat.

The Lady: -Chuckling.- Yer not even sent by my bastard duke brother or something? What, were you sent by some of the bohemians at Ladybones? Who. . .who even gets mad about a good ol' Rubbery stoning?

The woman is shifting in her seat, trying to leverage their weight into moving the chair.

The Lady: -Wheezing.- My head is on perfectly fine, and I will sleep fine tonight; besides, that thing was stealing from the University. . .kept trying to steal the flowers from the grounds. . .

The boy02/26/2020

Able: No, ma'am. You will be beheaded.

Able stands, gripping the woman's chair to hold still. He pulls out an unimpressive knife.

Able: Slowly, as is requested. Make peace with yourself now while you have time.

Able grips the woman roughly by the hair, holding her head up while the knife, cold and sharp, grazes against her skin. He starts cutting.

[

9:09 PM

]

--------

[

9:10 PM

]

Thomas breaks apart a piece of toffee, and tries to hand it over to Pearl. He noticed that she was only able to take small bites.

Thomas: Here you are, dear.

they02/26/2020

The bruised mass that is Pearl in the corner is inflating and deflating much slower than before, though the actual movements are still slow; she's reaching out a single tendril, pulling the piece close into the mass and slowly folding it into the flesh. Thomas can hear soft, quiet crunching deep within the bruised mass. The rubbery flesh takes on a pale, but normal, greenish color.

Pearl: -Softly chirping.- . . .chrr. . .

A squinted eye is slowly slithering down along the mass of flesh, as if it was affixed to runny glue.

.

The boy02/26/2020

Thomas nods, smiling a bit.

Thomas: There you go. I will try to help you get yourself back together, mh?

Thomas hands her the other piece of toffee.

Thomas: -Quietly- With any luck that will be one less person to mess with you...

they02/26/2020

The mass reaches out a small set of tendrils, reaching at the toffee with a bit more energy. It inflates just a bit, before deflating with a soft wheeze.

Pearl: -Wheezing.- . . .thhraattthhh. . .thhhoooo. . .

The boy02/26/2020

Thomas smiles more. Ah, she seemed to be getting a bit more comfortable.

Thomas: It is alright.

Thomas moves to the bag again, breaking another piece of toffee apart.

Thomas: Here, do you want some more? -----

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man is standing outside of the sugar factory, holding a (stolen) bayonet in their hands, inspecting it very closely.

The Bandaged: Fascinating. . .a gun. . .that also functions as a knife. Who would've thought. . ?

The bandaged man is inspecting the end of the gun straight on, pointing it straight into their eye.

The Bandaged: Who would've thought. . .a blade with a long reach, but also a long range firearm. . .I wonder if-

The bandaged man is startled by a scream; while distant, the words being spoken are completely clear; the kidnapped lady, gurgling and choking as they speak, is uttering loud pleas, interrupted only by coughs and.

The Lady: -Distant; through the door.- No! Oh God, please! . .Aggh! Please, I'll. . .G-ghhkkk! The Bandaged: -Sweating; holding the bayonet rifle close against their eye.- H-hm. . .a well made gun, too, I'd think. The Lady: -Screaming.- Ghhhokk! The Bandaged: -Speaking a bit faster and louder.- Ah, fascinating, they made the knife double edged. . .is it meant to penetrate completely through flesh? Gee, interesting!

The boy02/26/2020

It seems as if this keeps on for a long, long time. Longer than it probably should. Even when the screaming stops, Able doesn't come out for another thirty minutes. He's taken off his gloves, holding them out. They're soaked, in warm blood, but the rest of him seems to be free from any fluids.

Able: It's done.

Able nods to the bandaged man.

Able: Can you set a contained fire?

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man is still talking to themselves, holding a bayonet dangerously close to their eye.

The Bandaged: -Forced; loudly.- Hmm, this knife seems to be made specifically for this weap. . .huh? What? Oh!

The bandaged man drops the bayonet rifle, before stumbling down to pick it up again as they face Able.

The Bandaged: . . .er, I can start a fire. If you can get me blood, I can keep it contained. . .if I remember how to write it. . .yes, I think I do. The Bandaged: -Hoisting the bayonetted rifle over their shoulder.- . . .so, where's that lady? Did you finish yer interrogation?

The boy02/26/2020

Able opens the door wide enough for the bandaged man to see the scene. Able had untied the body, and both it and the head lay on the floor.

Able: Plenty of blood if you need it. Get to it, I don't want anything left.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man looks inside, leaning in around the corner as they see the corpse inside.

The Bandaged: . . .ah. The Bandaged: -Turning to Able, wearing a faltered, crooked smile.- . . .huh. I thought you were a thief by trade, not a licentiate, or. . .or whatever those fancy assassins call themselves?

The boy02/26/2020

Able: Only when the pay is good. Go on.

Able doesn't look at the bandaged man. Able just looks at the body. He could feel himself returning. Too soon. It isn't over yet.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man pauses, before walking into the room. They grimace, nudging the separated head along towards the body with the end of the bayonet as they do so.

The Bandaged: Well, uh. . .I don't know how you licentiates do, or anything like that. . .er, is there like. . .

The bandaged man reaches into their pocket, pulling out their familiar pen.

The Bandaged: . . .something ritualistic about it? Do you need me to burn it slowly, or just hide the evidence, or. . ?

The boy02/26/2020

Able: The less there is left, the less likely they are to come back.

Able starts removing his outer clothing, wrapping it up around the gloves. Underneath was a dark colored undershirt, and a fairly loose set of pants.

Able: Clothes too. Incase someone wants to try and find me.

Able nonchalantly tosses the clothes onto the corpse before moving to an empty chair, sitting down.

Able: Just burn it until its nothing.

they02/26/2020

The Bandaged: Ah. The Bandaged: -Coughing; nervously.- W-well, you don't need to be so somber about it, or. . .or anything like that. . .look, see. . .

The bandaged man nudges the head a bit around; after a bit, they've maneuvered the head under the deceased lady's crook of her arm, pushing the arm into place with the bayonet. The deceased, headless lady looks like the headless horseman holding their head in the crook of their arm though perhaps the horseman wouldn't hold the head upside down and with the tip of a tongue poking out past slightly ajar lips.

The Bandaged: -Nervously pointing at the corpse with a pen.- . . .eh? Eh?

The boy02/26/2020

Able: Enough. I don't have time for your shit right now. Finish the job or leave now.

Able sits back into his chair, glaring at the bandaged man. His voice is still that odd sense of calm, even when threatening.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man pauses, before sighing.

The Bandaged: Well. . .right then.

The bandaged man kneels, uncapping their pen and writing a Violant sigil onto the woman's chest, muttering to themselves.

The Bandaged: -Quietly.- Ye used to be more fun. . .now, let's see. . . The Bandaged: -To themselves.- . . .the passion felt about one's choices. . .a love that's scorned but still desired. . .

The bandaged man writes on the woman's chest, slowly writing it up in a circle along the lady's nightgown. After a moment, they finish writing a large, esoteric sigil along the woman's torso, coiled around in a tight circle round the woman's chest but not quite closing up.

The Bandaged: -Muttering.- . . .with. . .the love of the Sun. . .hated that sentence. . .mh. Now. . .

The bandaged man picks up the woman's head nonchalantly, turning it upside down.

The Bandaged; -To the head.- Ooh, hello.

The bandaged man stabs their pen into the stem of the head, letting pen drip with a small amount of blood. Afterwards, they set the head down upright in the center of the sigil, muttering.

The Bandaged: . . .that's quite enough. . .now. . .just a smalll circle. . .

The bandaged man traces a circle of red-tinged Violant around the entire sigil, standing back a bit when they finish.

The Bandaged: -Moving over to grab the bayonet.- And. . .let the fireworks begin. . .

The bandaged man nudges the head of the woman over with the tip of the bayonet, stepping back with a hand up across their face. The head nudges over a little, completing the blood circle, and the body immediately flares up into flames; it's almost surreal, as the flames should've been spreading outwards, but, instead, it flies upwards as if contained to a cylinder described by the blood circle, quickly burning the clothes and filling the room with the scent of burnt hair as the corpse burns.

The Bandaged: -Yelping.- Ach!. . .oh. Ah, it worked!

[

10:35 PM

]

The bandaged man jabs the bayonet into the corpse, trying to nudge the rest of the corpse into the flames as if they were stoking a campfire.

The Bandaged: . . .so. . .do you. . .do this often?

The boy02/26/2020

Able: No.

Able watches the fire. His gaze seems to glaze over a bit.

Able: This is only the fifth time. I tend to not take these sorts of jobs.

He sighs. He can feel the dullness in his head start to fade. Able leans forward, covering his face with his hands. He laughs, a hollow, dead sort of laugh.

Able: It doesn't really get easier.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man is busy nudging some limbs into the sigil, slowly burning the body and clothes into a smoldering crisp.

The Bandaged: . . .what were the other four times for?

The boy02/26/2020

Able looks up and holds out four fingers, counting them down as he speaks.

Able: A man who assaulted his young daughter, another man who killed children, a young woman who.. killed one of my pets. The first though.

Able holds up the one finger, sighing.

Able: A priest who'd torture the orphans he thought looked nice. I'd see him every day, taking kids to the back, then come out alone. No one found out, and I never told anyone.

Able leans back into his chair, staring at the fire.

Able: Did I ever tell you I used to work for a butchery as a youth? I wonder if he expected me to fall in. I wonder if he was going to kill me too. It doesn't matter. He's dead.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man has their gaze turned towards the fire, nudging the last bits of the corpse into the (still strong) pillar of fire, the room smelling vaguely of burnt hair, fabric, and meat as the corpse is slowly burned to a char. The bandaged man kicks a slightly charred foot into the center of the fire, pausing for a moment as they lean against the bayonet (knife side down).

The Bandaged: -Lightly.- . . .do you feel bad about any of those murders?

The boy02/26/2020

Able looks towards the bandaged man, sighing.

Able: Every one.

He looks back at the fire. Tired.

.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man looks thoughtfully, before standing up.

The Bandaged: . . .well. . .I'm sure that they all deserved it. Certainly?

The bandaged man pauses; in the next moment, they begin kicking their foot.

The Bandaged: . . .say, do you. . .ow, ow! Oh blast it, I forgot. . !

A stray bandage, trailing down out of their pant leg, has gotten a bit too close to the flame; a persistent flame, more robust than a normal flame, is melting the back of their shoe and beginning to set fire to the hem of their pants.

The Bandaged: Oh God! Able, quick, kick it out! Oh Hell!