[Blocking him was pretty rude, don't you think, Vergilius? If he thought that would dissuade Lobelia from trying to get in contact with him, he's dead wrong.
Next time the man finds himself wandering along the shoreline, he'll hear Lobelia's voice calling out to him through every conch he comes across — Bonjour! Bonne journée, monsieur Vergilius! Are you ignoring me? Why are you ignoring me? — until he finally relents to talk to him. Come on, man. There are worse things in life than talking to Lobelia.]
[He....should be very good at ignoring. What's worse is that he knows this is a trap. He usually would just put his foot down, maybe literally, and get it over with. But he has a vision of that moment the man's face went like that with the destruction of the conch, and...well.]
[He doesn't want to see it again.]
[After what is a long time, he finally relents, picking one up to glare down at it.]
[Ah, very good! He knew Vergilius would come to his senses and pick up one of his conches eventually. Lobelia laughs on the other end, his mirth almost juvenile, which.......... just makes all of this worse, doesn't it?]
Salutations, Vergilius!
[Bless the profiles. Now he knows how to address this man properly.]
It seems you've made a erreur. Out of the kindness of my heart, I've been attempting to contact you and make you aware of such. Did you not hear the ringing of the conque?
[Don't ask how he managed to get Vergilius to humor his company a second time. Settled at the bar with drinks and light finger food, Lobelia is nothing resembling somber or withdrawn, but he isn't as perky and talkative as he usually is either. It's almost like he's actively trying not to dissuade Vergilius from continuing to make the mistake of humoring him. Imagine that.]
Acclamations! [Raising a toast, he expects his glass of something fruity to go un-clinked.] We draw nearer and nearer to seeing what fate holds in store for us. Are you not excité?
[Apparently Lobelia found the best way to get Vergilius to do things, which is to annoy him into oblivion while still having the whole horny issue of getting off on the prospect of violence. Truly a situation of being between a rock and a hard place.]
[Well, the City is full of freaks like Lobelia, including fellow Colors, so tolerating his presence is almost kneejerk reflex at this point, even if his own natural irritation is always simmering under the surface.]
[Maybe Lobelia will get tired of him and move on. One can hope. (Vergilius continually shooting himself in the foot.)]
[The evening hasn't been...........especially terrible. Surprise, surprise. He doesn't clink the glass, of course, just moving to down the glass in one go.]
Mm. I think its just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
[No clink, no problem! That won't stop Lobelia from refilling Vergilius' glass — this is a proper ""date,"" after all — before returning to his own and taking a sip.
From here, the unusual calm of the ocean is well within earshot just how Lobelia likes it. It may not seem that way, but he's keeping an eye on the ongoing situation as it develops, the preternatural quiet more an irritance to him than anything else.]
I suspect as much myself. Still, I was hoping they would make a proper spectacle rather than delaying the inevitable. I find this brooding atmosphere quite boring.
[Lobelia hasn't spoken of his pact with The Tower and the world contained within its tarot card, but what are secrets between lovers? At some point, it became necessary to explain the significance of the pendant around his neck, explain to Vergilius that it's representative of the pact between himself and the being whose purpose is to destroy the Skydom in preparation for the birth of a new world. As its benefactor, Lobelia is no less devoted to the cause.
All of that aside, there's some fun to be had within the world of The Tower's card. He's invited Vergilius (read: blackmailed him into coming) to explore its monster-filled core. Within it, an endless barren expanse stretches on into the yawning void, the creatures within crazed and bloodthirsty. With no better use for all this pent up emotion, why not channel it all into the destruction of these pitiful creatures?
Lobelia is well-versed in battle, bringing foe after foe to their knees with a mere snap of his fingers, but it's Vergilius he's watching with intent. His eyes pour over every inch of his body, so entranced with the sight of him in combat that he nearly suffers a blow at the enemy's hand. Ah... He can't afford to get too distracted even in a land so familiar, can he?]
Bravo! You're a force to be reckoned with... A genuine disaster.
[The preparation of a new world. Despite the man doing his best to pull him in, there was still many things that he was keeping well out of the reach of him. And one of those things was why he had the urge to laugh when he heard exactly what the pact was all about.]
[How funny. Maybe you and I are not too unalike, if not for the fact of...everything else.]
[But he had said nothing. In his own "pact" with the pitiful human creature called Lobelia, giving too much meant the other using whatever inch he could get, and the best thing to do was to simply shut up and keep moving.]
[This world is interesting, though. Like Lobelia's personal outskirts, but in some endless space within a space. Perhaps it really is meant for what's pent-up, because Vergilius moves in with no hesitation as if this was his own world to begin with.]
[He's always been so good at killing.]
[His body almost sings with movement. There's a reason why he's at the top of the top, as any low-grade Fixer couldn't stand a second with him. A higher grade would maybe last a minute. His movements are true, and sharp, and as definite as a sword across an artery. He shows no fear, no joy, no anger, no emotion. He simply moves in, and ends.]
[He turns just to see the other staring, and the attack almost connecting. He would be happy if it had. But for what its worth, he simply sighs at the compliment, as he makes a slight movement to decapitate another monster.]
You say that like I haven't heard that too many times to count. Hardly the most original commentary.
[Lobelia has to wonder how much of that strength comes naturally to Vergilius, not that an augmented body detracts too much from his natural allure when the spirit of a killer thrives within him. He was made to mete out carnage in much the same way Lobelia was, slavering beasts dropping at his feet by the dozens.
There's no shortage of fun to be had here, but it's only a shame the world within the tarot card is a mere memory of an ancient battle. Nothing they do here will help or hinder this war-torn world, and that's why Lobelia seldom comes here on his own. Still... it's given him the perfect opportunity to check Vergilius out, quite literally, so he owes The Tower his thanks for the opportunity.
Bringing his fingers to his lips, a sharp whistle cleaves the beast that attempted to dig its fangs into him clean in half. There's something wrong here, something off, like the potency of his audiomancy has been severely restricted... but that's of little concern to Lobelia now. So long as he can injure and maim, he doesn't need strength enough to kill someone instantly. Bleeding out, often enough, is a much worse fate.]
I'm sure you have! Still, have a little humilité, Vergilius. They say pride is a fool's downfall.
[Not that Lobelia believes that to be true in his own case, given his utter lack of humility.]
[its week 2 and i have not outrun my personal shipping murdergame allegations whatsoever i'm crying so so so much]
[Vergilius has been in a bad mood ever since he left the world of the Tower. Having to walk blood-splattered in front of other people was barely a blip on his emotions - it was the fact that Lobelia had practically bound him to this deal that he knew he couldn't just walk away from that was the kicker. The island was one thing. But Lobelia...oh, Lobelia was another level of hell entirely. And every time he considered simply ending the man right then and there, the reminder that this island wished for the blood of each and every one of its residents came back like a headache. He can't give Lobelia what he wants. But he can't give this island and those idiots what they want, either. And killing Lobelia would mean having to play around with that damn trial idea they wanted, and then getting offed when it would be obvious who did the deed.]
[Between a rock and a hard place, truly.]
[Anyways, after about a day of feeling sick to the pit of his stomach from his circumstances, he's finally made his way around to Lobelia's cabana. Fine. A rock and a hard place, and maybe he'll just have to deal with the eye-roll-worthy demands of the rock, if only to get him to shut up for a little while longer. He hopes nobody else is inside as he raps on the door.]
...Lobelia.
[His current wear is....a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Thanks, Wang Lu. And no thanks to LOBELIA for BLOOD-SPLATTERING HIS CLOTHES.]
[Luckily (haha) for Vergilius, Seagull Cabana is currently unoccupied save for one very problematic magician. Unlike Vergilius, he's been doing just fine over the last day. Winning comes with some perks, the newest of which being the miserable look on Vergilius' face. This is the real walk of shame.
Throwing the door open wide, Lobelia greets him with a broad smile.]
Bienvenu, Vergilius! Come in. We've got the whole cabana to ourselves... heheh.
[Heheh. Heh. Stepping aside, he waves Vergilius in. One bed is clearly being occupied by Lacus and is thus unfit for their purposes, but the other is unoccupied and free of personal belongings.]
[The sneer that comes on his face does so instantly at the sight of the other's face. The last thing he wanted to see this day, and yet...! Here he is.]
[He walks in to glance around, before steadily walking over to the clearly empty bed. He tries to remember who else Lobelia is living with. He fails.]
[Vergilius glances over at him, with folded arms.]
[Well. He completely missed the time, here - Vergilius places a hand against the barrier before drawing back to the machines. Great. Stuck in a landromat for the night. Not that he hasn't slept in worse places than this, but a cold floor isn't exactly an exciting prospect for the night.]
[He might as well finish up what he was here for in the first place, plucking out his characteristic gray striped blazer out from the dryer to fold neatly on top. His current wear is more summery if only because he has few options, here - he can't wait to start wearing his general look once more.]
[Vergilius hums, moving to get the pants, before...he hears a noise. His head whips up. A footstep. He pulls out the gladius strapped to his side, eyes flaring.]
[This is a sign, isn't it? Free to move about the island as he pleases while everyone else is confined by the barrier, this is his long-awaited "gift" from the powers that be.
Lobelia has been waiting for a night just like this, and wasting no time, he wanders the island in search of someone in particular— a very, very special someone. Imagine Lobelia's surprise when the laundromat door creaks open to reveal Vergilius on the other side, his blade already drawn.
Lobelia can't help but laugh at his good fortune. Stepping into the laundromat, he doesn't bother to lower his hood.]
Bonne soirée. Have I caught you at a bad time...? [Gazing at the blade in his hand, Lobelia's smile widens.] It would certainly seem so.
[His sword actually lowers slightly when he sees who exactly it is, but something makes him pause - the realization, of course, that this shouldn't be possible. Lobelia shouldn't be walking in like no one's business.]
[There really isn't much, in this damn flowery purgatory. Vergilius has kept himself busy....or at least, as busy as he can be, when there's not much he can do. He's been to the shack, he's traversed the edges of the garden, he's made his valiant attempts at getting close to the tower. Nothing budges. It's a strange world, where he doesn't need to eat, or drink, or even sleep.]
[Just an eternal paradise, and a few dead souls.]
[One of which he has not seen for a few days. The man has been avoiding him, which feels strange. Days without the persistently cheerful voice of a certain magician seem like they should be nothing but relieving. Here, it feels like there's something missing. As much as he hates the man, and has needed this time to let the overwhelming anger and annoyance turn down to a simmer...]
[If you really love me, leave me alone.]
[....]
[Whatever. He's spotted him from afar, finally, approaching through the flowers.]
....And here I thought I might have sent you to a different layer of hell.
It lacks all the charm of a real flowering meadow, none of the cheerful lilting of birds and the vibrating of insect wings. It's a proper paradise at a glance, but spend more than a day or two here and the veneer of immaculate, heavenly charm swiftly wears off.
It's gotten grating, to say nothing of how much Lobelia wishes he could smash it all to pieces and move onto the fire and brimstone he was meant for. Left in this place without the means to relive his agonizing deaths over and over through recordings, Lobelia can only rely on his memory to replay those sounds, the accuracy of his recollections diminishing by the day.
So he's been quiet, unusually so, keeping to himself at the far reaches of the garden. It's easier to cede to Vergilius' wishes when there are no better alternatives, and it comes as a surprise when, several days later, the man approaches him. It's unusual to catch Lobelia off guard, but Vergilius manages, his shoulders drawn up tight at the sound of his voice before he relaxes to smile at him over his shoulder. Not as bright as usual, that smile.]
Heh! If only I had been so lucky. It's dreadfully boring here.
[He won't even argue that. His hands go to his pockets as he glances around at their surroundings, as if to find something new to look at. There's nothing of the sort.]
[So, his red gaze fixes on Lobelia, and Lobelia alone.]
Even those books aren't worth reading. Somehow even the island was more exciting.
[They had a go kart and everything!! A laundromat!! Oh wait those got destroyed!!!!]
[Vergilius heaves another of his classic sighs - the look on Lobelia's face seems so tight. This place, as insidiously pleasant as it is, was clearly not made for murderers like them.]
...You know, I didn't actually expect you to stay away.
[It isn't too terribly long before they're given something productive to do, but Lobelia could have done with a less cryptic delivery of the information relating to this mysterious forest. Surely Merlin knows what awaits them in a space of his own creation, but he isn't inclined to coax the information out of the man when they'll only see results through exploration anyway.
To that end, he's naturally procured Vergilius for this venture. What could possibly go wrong with his wife at his side? Cheerful as always, Lobelia is the first to wander towards the forest, trusting Vergilius will follow.]
...It's something to do, non? If nothing else, I hope Monsieur plans to entertain us.
[Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost. ]
[Well, that might be what he's thinking, as he approaches - honestly, this is very familiar, what with how he found Dante back home, but obviously, the context of this is different. An environment spun by a trickster of a wizard...who knows what might await them?]
[He would've left well enough alone, but there truly is nothing better to do. So he's here, hi husband.]
...I don't need entertainment. [A grumble, casting his gaze around.] If he wants to toy with us, he's got another thing coming for him.
[Vergilius' freely flowing threats never fail to amuse Lobelia, but he's not just blowing smoke, is he? Depending on what awaits them in this forest, Lobelia can easily imagine a certain wizard (no, the other wizard) getting his ass kicked for having the audacity to meddle with them.
Regardless, Lobelia's concerns thus far are few as he traipses through the forest, a hand brought up to his tipped chin.]
Hmm... There certainly is something différent about this forest, but I can't quite put my finger on what that something is. There's something unusual about the way sound flows within this space.
[And the further they go, the more unusual those soundwaves become, as if the ground several feet in front of them is instead countless miles away. Could it lead to another world? The world of the living...? Maybe Vergilius would benefit from this knowledge, but Lobelia keeps his hypotheses to himself for now.]
[When all the fun and festivities have run their course and everyone goes back to their usual post-mortem activities, Lobelia seeks out Vergilius as he usually does, but it's with one particular question in mind. It's been circulating in his brain for hours now, that simple "thanks."]
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WEEK ONE: tuesday ???, beach.
Next time the man finds himself wandering along the shoreline, he'll hear Lobelia's voice calling out to him through every conch he comes across — Bonjour! Bonne journée, monsieur Vergilius! Are you ignoring me? Why are you ignoring me? — until he finally relents to talk to him. Come on, man. There are worse things in life than talking to Lobelia.]
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[He thinks he is very good at ignoring.]
[He....should be very good at ignoring. What's worse is that he knows this is a trap. He usually would just put his foot down, maybe literally, and get it over with. But he has a vision of that moment the man's face went like that with the destruction of the conch, and...well.]
[He doesn't want to see it again.]
[After what is a long time, he finally relents, picking one up to glare down at it.]
What. What.
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Salutations, Vergilius!
[Bless the profiles. Now he knows how to address this man properly.]
It seems you've made a erreur. Out of the kindness of my heart, I've been attempting to contact you and make you aware of such. Did you not hear the ringing of the conque?
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[But he heaves a long sigh at this, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand.]
I heard it, alright. I don't want to talk with you.
[BLUNT.]
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WEEK ONE: thursday, ✨ date night. ✨
Acclamations! [Raising a toast, he expects his glass of something fruity to go un-clinked.] We draw nearer and nearer to seeing what fate holds in store for us. Are you not excité?
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[Well, the City is full of freaks like Lobelia, including fellow Colors, so tolerating his presence is almost kneejerk reflex at this point, even if his own natural irritation is always simmering under the surface.]
[Maybe Lobelia will get tired of him and move on. One can hope. (Vergilius continually shooting himself in the foot.)]
[The evening hasn't been...........especially terrible. Surprise, surprise. He doesn't clink the glass, of course, just moving to down the glass in one go.]
Mm. I think its just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
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From here, the unusual calm of the ocean is well within earshot just how Lobelia likes it. It may not seem that way, but he's keeping an eye on the ongoing situation as it develops, the preternatural quiet more an irritance to him than anything else.]
I suspect as much myself. Still, I was hoping they would make a proper spectacle rather than delaying the inevitable. I find this brooding atmosphere quite boring.
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cw gore ment........... sighs
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WEEK TWO: monday, The Tower's world.
All of that aside, there's some fun to be had within the world of The Tower's card. He's invited Vergilius (read: blackmailed him into coming) to explore its monster-filled core. Within it, an endless barren expanse stretches on into the yawning void, the creatures within crazed and bloodthirsty. With no better use for all this pent up emotion, why not channel it all into the destruction of these pitiful creatures?
Lobelia is well-versed in battle, bringing foe after foe to their knees with a mere snap of his fingers, but it's Vergilius he's watching with intent. His eyes pour over every inch of his body, so entranced with the sight of him in combat that he nearly suffers a blow at the enemy's hand. Ah... He can't afford to get too distracted even in a land so familiar, can he?]
Bravo! You're a force to be reckoned with... A genuine disaster.
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[How funny. Maybe you and I are not too unalike, if not for the fact of...everything else.]
[But he had said nothing. In his own "pact" with the pitiful human creature called Lobelia, giving too much meant the other using whatever inch he could get, and the best thing to do was to simply shut up and keep moving.]
[This world is interesting, though. Like Lobelia's personal outskirts, but in some endless space within a space. Perhaps it really is meant for what's pent-up, because Vergilius moves in with no hesitation as if this was his own world to begin with.]
[He's always been so good at killing.]
[His body almost sings with movement. There's a reason why he's at the top of the top, as any low-grade Fixer couldn't stand a second with him. A higher grade would maybe last a minute. His movements are true, and sharp, and as definite as a sword across an artery. He shows no fear, no joy, no anger, no emotion. He simply moves in, and ends.]
[He turns just to see the other staring, and the attack almost connecting. He would be happy if it had. But for what its worth, he simply sighs at the compliment, as he makes a slight movement to decapitate another monster.]
You say that like I haven't heard that too many times to count. Hardly the most original commentary.
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There's no shortage of fun to be had here, but it's only a shame the world within the tarot card is a mere memory of an ancient battle. Nothing they do here will help or hinder this war-torn world, and that's why Lobelia seldom comes here on his own. Still... it's given him the perfect opportunity to check Vergilius out, quite literally, so he owes The Tower his thanks for the opportunity.
Bringing his fingers to his lips, a sharp whistle cleaves the beast that attempted to dig its fangs into him clean in half. There's something wrong here, something off, like the potency of his audiomancy has been severely restricted... but that's of little concern to Lobelia now. So long as he can injure and maim, he doesn't need strength enough to kill someone instantly. Bleeding out, often enough, is a much worse fate.]
I'm sure you have! Still, have a little humilité, Vergilius. They say pride is a fool's downfall.
[Not that Lobelia believes that to be true in his own case, given his utter lack of humility.]
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WEEK 2 TUESDAY also god likely extremely NSFW IN THIS THREAD. help ME
its week 2 and i have not outrun my personal shipping murdergame allegations whatsoever i'm crying so so so much][Vergilius has been in a bad mood ever since he left the world of the Tower. Having to walk blood-splattered in front of other people was barely a blip on his emotions - it was the fact that Lobelia had practically bound him to this deal that he knew he couldn't just walk away from that was the kicker. The island was one thing. But Lobelia...oh, Lobelia was another level of hell entirely. And every time he considered simply ending the man right then and there, the reminder that this island wished for the blood of each and every one of its residents came back like a headache. He can't give Lobelia what he wants. But he can't give this island and those idiots what they want, either. And killing Lobelia would mean having to play around with that damn trial idea they wanted, and then getting offed when it would be obvious who did the deed.]
[Between a rock and a hard place, truly.]
[Anyways, after about a day of feeling sick to the pit of his stomach from his circumstances, he's finally made his way around to Lobelia's cabana. Fine. A rock and a hard place, and maybe he'll just have to deal with the eye-roll-worthy demands of the rock, if only to get him to shut up for a little while longer. He hopes nobody else is inside as he raps on the door.]
...Lobelia.
[His current wear is....a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Thanks, Wang Lu. And no thanks to LOBELIA for BLOOD-SPLATTERING HIS CLOTHES.]
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Throwing the door open wide, Lobelia greets him with a broad smile.]
Bienvenu, Vergilius! Come in. We've got the whole cabana to ourselves... heheh.
[Heheh. Heh. Stepping aside, he waves Vergilius in. One bed is clearly being occupied by Lacus and is thus unfit for their purposes, but the other is unoccupied and free of personal belongings.]
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[The sneer that comes on his face does so instantly at the sight of the other's face. The last thing he wanted to see this day, and yet...! Here he is.]
[He walks in to glance around, before steadily walking over to the clearly empty bed. He tries to remember who else Lobelia is living with. He fails.]
[Vergilius glances over at him, with folded arms.]
No one else will come in?
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WEEK 3 MURDER NIGHT
[He might as well finish up what he was here for in the first place, plucking out his characteristic gray striped blazer out from the dryer to fold neatly on top. His current wear is more summery if only because he has few options, here - he can't wait to start wearing his general look once more.]
[Vergilius hums, moving to get the pants, before...he hears a noise. His head whips up. A footstep. He pulls out the gladius strapped to his side, eyes flaring.]
...Who's there?
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Lobelia has been waiting for a night just like this, and wasting no time, he wanders the island in search of someone in particular— a very, very special someone. Imagine Lobelia's surprise when the laundromat door creaks open to reveal Vergilius on the other side, his blade already drawn.
Lobelia can't help but laugh at his good fortune. Stepping into the laundromat, he doesn't bother to lower his hood.]
Bonne soirée. Have I caught you at a bad time...? [Gazing at the blade in his hand, Lobelia's smile widens.] It would certainly seem so.
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[His sword actually lowers slightly when he sees who exactly it is, but something makes him pause - the realization, of course, that this shouldn't be possible. Lobelia shouldn't be walking in like no one's business.]
[Something is wrong. Something is wrong.]
[His eyes keep their steady, piercing light.]
How did you get past the barrier?
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WEEK 4 we're going to forward date this to like. wednesday
[Just an eternal paradise, and a few dead souls.]
[One of which he has not seen for a few days. The man has been avoiding him, which feels strange. Days without the persistently cheerful voice of a certain magician seem like they should be nothing but relieving. Here, it feels like there's something missing. As much as he hates the man, and has needed this time to let the overwhelming anger and annoyance turn down to a simmer...]
[If you really love me, leave me alone.]
[....]
[Whatever. He's spotted him from afar, finally, approaching through the flowers.]
....And here I thought I might have sent you to a different layer of hell.
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It lacks all the charm of a real flowering meadow, none of the cheerful lilting of birds and the vibrating of insect wings. It's a proper paradise at a glance, but spend more than a day or two here and the veneer of immaculate, heavenly charm swiftly wears off.
It's gotten grating, to say nothing of how much Lobelia wishes he could smash it all to pieces and move onto the fire and brimstone he was meant for. Left in this place without the means to relive his agonizing deaths over and over through recordings, Lobelia can only rely on his memory to replay those sounds, the accuracy of his recollections diminishing by the day.
So he's been quiet, unusually so, keeping to himself at the far reaches of the garden. It's easier to cede to Vergilius' wishes when there are no better alternatives, and it comes as a surprise when, several days later, the man approaches him. It's unusual to catch Lobelia off guard, but Vergilius manages, his shoulders drawn up tight at the sound of his voice before he relaxes to smile at him over his shoulder. Not as bright as usual, that smile.]
Heh! If only I had been so lucky. It's dreadfully boring here.
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[He won't even argue that. His hands go to his pockets as he glances around at their surroundings, as if to find something new to look at. There's nothing of the sort.]
[So, his red gaze fixes on Lobelia, and Lobelia alone.]
Even those books aren't worth reading. Somehow even the island was more exciting.
[They had a go kart and everything!! A laundromat!! Oh wait those got destroyed!!!!]
[Vergilius heaves another of his classic sighs - the look on Lobelia's face seems so tight. This place, as insidiously pleasant as it is, was clearly not made for murderers like them.]
...You know, I didn't actually expect you to stay away.
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WEEK FOUR: monday, deadlandia forest.
To that end, he's naturally procured Vergilius for this venture. What could possibly go wrong with his wife at his side? Cheerful as always, Lobelia is the first to wander towards the forest, trusting Vergilius will follow.]
...It's something to do, non? If nothing else, I hope Monsieur plans to entertain us.
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I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost. ]
[Well, that might be what he's thinking, as he approaches - honestly, this is very familiar, what with how he found Dante back home, but obviously, the context of this is different. An environment spun by a trickster of a wizard...who knows what might await them?]
[He would've left well enough alone, but there truly is nothing better to do. So he's here, hi husband.]
...I don't need entertainment. [A grumble, casting his gaze around.] If he wants to toy with us, he's got another thing coming for him.
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Regardless, Lobelia's concerns thus far are few as he traipses through the forest, a hand brought up to his tipped chin.]
Hmm... There certainly is something différent about this forest, but I can't quite put my finger on what that something is. There's something unusual about the way sound flows within this space.
[And the further they go, the more unusual those soundwaves become, as if the ground several feet in front of them is instead countless miles away. Could it lead to another world? The world of the living...? Maybe Vergilius would benefit from this knowledge, but Lobelia keeps his hypotheses to himself for now.]
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cw gore, c/ps half of this
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FINAL WEEK: friday post-party, deadlandia.
Mon amour! You owe me an explanation!
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For what?
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[Lobelia slips the glasses off Vergilius' nose so nothing impedes his view of those eyes.]
You thanked me. What for?
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1/2
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