WEEK 6 - LOBELIA

[foundationmods]

Six weeks.

They had been here for that long, and still...the game was continuing.
Yet, it felt like they were finally about to reach the end of it...
Just a little longer. 🗈

Still, things were just the same as they had been the past few weeks.

The goats and servants were still around, and so too were the witches.
Yet, it felt like this week would be the week they would finally get all the pieces to the puzzle.
But...could they solve it?

Only time would tell.

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Comments

[improbablenotimpossible]

Dr. Muller I presume?

[His voice was warm, with a londoner's accent, as he sets the book aside on top of what looks to be a stack of scholarly journal that is about a foot high without bothering to mark his place in the book.

The demon glances down at the shattered cup, then back up]

You look as though you've seen a ghost, which would be fitting of a manor in this style. Come, let's make sure you didn't cut your hand.

[chaoscontrol]

[the wolf accompanying Erhard bares his teeth (almost silvery white against black fur) and growls, engine exhaust leaking from between his teeth, but makes no move toward the demon. It's just a warning -- for now]

[improbablenotimpossible]

[He turns, and growls right back]

[chaoscontrol]

[he's not gonna start anything.

but by god, he'll finish it]

[cryosurgeon]

[He can't move he can't think he can't breathe

He didn't cut his hand but he sure did burn his fingers when the cup tilted before falling, not that he feels it. All he can do is stare, as tears well in his eyes. He isn't aware of those, either.]

[improbablenotimpossible]

[With that, he pushes himself off - revealing the whip-like tail of some kind of hound, as he takes and examines the man's hands, red eyes darting bright and curious]

My, you did burn your fingertips. That should be taken care of - it's a pity for any harm to befall the hands of a Doctor... I always do like them, the precision and skill required for the art.

And the K̰̦͓͇̮͢n̠͖̳̮͜o̟͢ͅw̫͖̫̩̘͢l̢̩̫ͅę͔̲͎ͅd̰̦͢g̡͉̮̘̬̩ę̟̯̤̮̥ that separates life from death.

[cryosurgeon]

[The touch he's touching his hand

hands touching on the pillow tired smiles and alcoholic haze and peace and quiet joy

finally moving, throwing his arms around the demon and closing his eyes as the tears spill over, forehead to forehead as they were in the hall that horrible Friday morning when Erhard whispered Auf Wiedersehen.

"Until we see each other again." And in the doctor's blinded mind, they have.]

[improbablenotimpossible]

[A wicked smile appears on his lips, while Erhard leans against him, sagging. His lips press against those fingertips, there's a brush of sharpness - of teeth that shouldn't belong in the mouth of a human being]

It's terrible isn't, having the ḅ̧͇̲̤u̢͇̣͚r̡̪̬ḑ̰̦̮ę̜̥̤̭̗n̡̳͕ o̢̱̮̞̮f̢̱̞̣̱̩ k̦̗̰͜ͅn̩̦̖̫͜o̡̯̦̗̬w̡̮̞͓̤̗į̦͎̟͍n̢̘͈͎̘g̢̰͇ d̢͉̱̝̣̭e̢̞͇͚a̘̩͓͢t̨͙̜̫̠̤h̡̰̩͉͕?

[Even with the smile, the tone he speaks was quiet, remorseful]

[cryosurgeon]

[Erhard shudders, torn between the dichotomy of the demon and the buried man he's lost. He feels the sharpness of teeth and can't deny that, for God knows how many heartbeats, he's lost in the thought of teeth like Natsuno's moved by the whims of someone with Sherlock's face and voice.

It would be so easy to tilt his head back, to offer up his throat.

He trusts Sherlock, after all.]

[improbablenotimpossible]

[He may appear every inch of the vampire, but he was not one. He brushes Erhard's hair from his face]

Poor thing, it would be easier, if you could f̡̦̥͉ͅo̢̤̩ṟ̢̙̫ģ̮̮̙e̡̱̖̙t̩̯͜ ḙ̢̮̙͚̭v̧̘̞͈e̢͖̩r͔̳͢y̖͔͇̲͜t̰̙̱͔͍͢h̨̟͉͉i̡͔̭n̢̫͙̩̤͔g̨̫̣,̧̦̜̖̳ ę̬͍̙v̞̪̞̗͢e̢͓̰̳ŗ̜͔y̨̯̳̣ͅ l̨̙͇̞̟i̡̬̭̲t̡͍͎̩͚t̢͖͎͔l̗͢ͅe̢̘͇͚̱͖ t̢̳̲̰̜̗h̘̘͓͢i̲̩͜n̢͓̜͖̘g̜͓͢.͍̣̬͢ ?

[cryosurgeon]

[He finally remembers how to breathe, and it's in a tiny, soft whimper. With his eyes closed, he can believe, he can just believe.]

[literalidiotball]

[Believe hard enough, and the doors of Hell shall open and swallow you whole- Oh, wait. That's just a white goat opening the door to the sitting room and seeing THIS happening on the couch.] Uh... [...] Did you two need a moment? [He came in here to clean what are you two doing.]

[improbablenotimpossible]

[His head pops up, the impression of a hunting dog that is searching for it's quarry, before focusing on the goat. Before smiling as if a Cabrito was presented to him, before fixing his face into one a proper gentleman would have]

I have no need of you as of this moment.

[literalidiotball]

OH! UH. [THAT IS A SCARY LOOK.] A-Alright, then. Just... Let me know if you need anything. [He quickly bows and exits the room to not invoke the demon's wrath.]

[chaoscontrol]

[Terios gives the goat a look.

Save him]

[literalidiotball]

[HE IS A SIMPLE GOAT WITH NO ANSWERS, SORRY WOLF BUDDY.]

[chaoscontrol]

[NO DONT LEAVE HIM ALONE WITH THIS--!!]

[literalidiotball]

[GOOD LUCK, DOGGO!]

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Doctor Mueller.

[When Moriarty speaks, it's in a deadly serious tone.]

Not to interrupt you, but might I speak with you out in the hall about a medical issue?

[chaoscontrol]

[TAIL WAG.

HES SAVED (???)]

[cryosurgeon]

[The sound of his name is barely enough to snap Erhard out of his daze. He doesn't step back from his embrace, but he does look over his shoulder at Moriarty with haunted, tear-bright eyes and a thousand-yard stare.]

Wh-- what...?

[hatesdeerstalkers]

...Please, doctor. I'd like to talk with you about a medical issue I'm having lately, if you would be so kind...?

[He smiles, brightly - back to being the jovial old man he normally is.]

[improbablenotimpossible]

[Caarcrinolaas peers at Moriarty, the scarlet eyes suspicious, but he makes no move yet to encourage Erhard to stay - yet]

[cryosurgeon]

I....

[His attention darts back and forth between Moriarty and... and....

Duty, or his heart?]

[Caarcrinolaas will easily feel his tension, torn as he is.]

[chaoscontrol]

[Terios finally makes a move and grabs Erhard's pant leg in his mouth, pulling at it gently in Moriarty's direction]