Last Resort Mods 🌊 (
killerwaves) wrote in
guiltrip2023-05-20 12:20 am
WEEK ONE, SATURDAY
INVESTIGATION(?)
Exciting night, no? Were you able to get to sleep, or did you stay up into the wee hours, seeing that far-off shimmer near the gazebos and listening to the rising rumble of whatever-that-is and wondering when it would come for you?
At least, when dawn finally comes and the shimmer is overcome by the rising light of the sun, it seems that last night wasn't the end. For you.
Instead, once it's morning proper, there's a shift -- like the breeze and the smell after a bout of sudden summer thunderstorm without the storm: the pressure and the oppressive atmosphere of yesterday is gone, just like that. But also: accompanying it a few seconds later is a clean whipcrack of sound, like giant hands clapping together. And a moment after that, you'll feel something pass overhead -- you won't be able to see anything, but anyone outside at the time will find themselves staggered by what seems to be a small shockwave spreading throughout the island.
That's not the only change that awaits you this morning, however.
You might want to get out of bed, if you haven't already, and take a proper look around.
(( OOC: Welcome to our peace week Saturday event, islanders! Please note that this will be run similarly to a normal investigation, but will not be a full investigation. As such, everyone is welcome to explore for the first part of the event, and then we will take a limited amount of people for the second half, investigation-style. ))

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His stomach won't shut up. But he follows regardless, hand digging into his shirt as his eyes keep trailing at the surroundings in the short walk, as though he might pick something else up.]
Need to get the taste of his blood out of my mouth. I can still smell it.
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I would say focus on my smell, but....eh. Not going to help in that regard, huh.
[You know.]
[He is keeping an eye on him, though, glancing back every now and then.]
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[Try. Maybe not succeed, but y'know. Attempting. Maybe. This should be a short walk but it feels like an eternity.]
Yours smells different than his. There's no demon in you.
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[Now that makes him let out a curious noise.]
Aren't you a demon? What do you mean?
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Merlin...
[He exhales, fist tightening against his clothes.]
Merlin was both, almost. That's what it smelled and tasted like.
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[......]
Do you have a favorite hobby outside of, well, eating food?
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...
[A long exhale, but he nods briskly.]
Mn. I exercise. Weightlifting, sprints. I play Fangol with the Academy, too.
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[He assumes from the Physical Activity (TM) trend.]
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[The buffet is pretty close by now, though, and his pace picks up so that instead of trailing Vergilius, he's rapidly outwalking him.
Muttered, nearly muffled under the growl of his stomach:] Sorry.
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[He's just gesturing - go forth, young demon.]
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Delicious. Delicious.]
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[He watches him from a distance for a little while, with arms folded. It looks like Beel is satisfied.]
[But Vergilius is not the type to linger. After a moment, he simply closes his eyes, turns, and walks away, leaving the demon to his own food devices.]