if you're seeing things running through your head, who can you call ♞ THE GRAND HALL; OPEN

[knightwinged]

The raven looks quite a sight as he stumbles through the doorway to the gardens, and for a moment he just lingers there, not quite leaning against the wall but not quite looking like he's supporting his own weight either. He actually looks quite a sight because despite the darkness and despite his colouring, he's quite visible at the moment, eyes a luminous white and his whole body suffused in a softly flickering light of the same shade—which does indeed look quite strange when it like the candles has its brilliance dampened by his presence and yet not at the same time.

The moment passes quickly, however, and in the next he's taking flight. His movements are forced in a way that doesn't seem to have to do with how ragged and worn he looks (and it'd probably be worse if it weren't for his constant state of obscurity) or the way one of his wings doesn't seem to be moving in a manner that looks quite right.

But for the most part, there's nothing wrong.

You know, except for the part where he's indiscriminately lashing out at whatever happens to be within his vicinity, both with the sting of talon and something else, because marks tear themselves into the walls, onto the doors, through the candlesticks without his ever touching them. Possibly some tables are flipped.

Yeah, maybe not a good idea to just stand around. Getting out of the way might be a start.

[[ooc: multiple threads, piling into one; action, prose, whatever works, go for it! obviously safety is not guaranteed but that's overrated anyway, right? right.]]

Comments

[grotesqueobserver]

Vigil yelps as the claws rake across his collection of candles, their remnants scattering across the marble floor. He leaps to his feet, placing himself between the newcomer and the writing-covered wall and the remaining candles. "Wait! Stop!" he calls out. "What are you doing?"

[knightwinged]

He stops and goes unnaturally still, head swiveling to face the gargoyle. His wings are spread wide as if to ride an updraft that doesn't exist and flap only slowly a few times like an afterthought as he hangs in the air.

The raven's beak opens, but nothing comes out—rather, it snaps shut after what seems like a moment of fighting with himself.

As such the reply is mental, ringing loudly in Vigil's head.

You- who? Who are you? What is this place? WHERE IS THIS PLACE?

I can do a different thread if you want to solo this, Izzy!

[manelesscatking]

"Stranger!" shouts the page, startled by the extreme aggression, "Calm yourself!" Huǒ draws their belt knife and jumps in front of Vigil, possibly startling the valravn more.

Nah, it's fine!

[grotesqueobserver]

Okay that? That cannot be normal. And the voice in his head is much worse. He cries out in fear, backing away clutching at his ears as if that will help. "P-please! Just...calm down." Admittedly, he's not doing a terribly good job of staying calm himself. "My name is Vigil. I used to be the sentry for the Master, but not anymore. A-all I know is that we're in the Master's home. I don't know where it is other than it's not where any of us came from."

Please don't hurt me.

He yelps again when Huo jumps in front of him, but calms when he recognizes them. "W-wait! I think he's lost. He doesn't know where he is." Or at least he hopes that's all that's wrong.

[knightwinged]

At first it seems as if the raven will respond, the light surrounding him glowing brightly.

But the appearance of the page and the obvious presence of a weapon, no matter how small, has the raven recoiling, that same luminous aura flickering erratically as phantom nails lash out at the Fairest. He shrieks, the unearthly, desperate sound nearly tangible in the painful way it affects both mind and body.

MONSTER! DON'T YOU DARE! Where? Which way? WHERE? LET ME GO!

...strangely enough, the voice that sounds in their heads seems to change briefly, but the distortion is gone just as quickly.

[manelesscatking]

As the unseen claws slash the page's arm, Huǒ cries out in pain but maintains a hold on the knife. That couldn't have been good, they think.

Huǒ tries and fails to lift their knife-wielding arm. Blood drips red from large gashes on either side of their elbow. Suddenly, in their mind's eye, a boy's grim face swims into view. Goddess, I don't have time for a memory now.

The page grabbed the knife from their now-useless hand. They circled, watching the valravn's chest. With all but the best fighters, muscle movements in the chest often betrayed the direction of the next attack - Huǒ couldn't see the weapon, but might be able to dodge another dismemberment.

Without looking away, they grumble to Vigil, "well, as you might be able to see, I don't have time to get him unlost. Can you help the clearly addled bird, or do we need to put him down before he does to us?"

Room for one more?

[justbeclaws]

The typewriter dives to one side with a squawk as something she can't see sends a chair flying toward her. She hesitates for a moment on the verge of blending into the shadows, torn between fear of what might be hiding in the dark and fear of what she can definitely see. In the end, she'd rather handle what she can identify.

"Stop it!" she shouts. "What happened to you?!" The raven - she saw him only a few hours ago, didn't she? He was with... "Wherre arre the clock and the sworrd?"

She tries to circle around him, as much as she can, get on the opposite side from Huo. If he's low enough...she must have caught birds before, she thinks, because she remembers how to pounce.

Absolutely!

[knightwinged]

Unfortunately for the page, most of the raven's movements are too erratic and contrary to nature to get anything resembling a good read on. In the clearer moments though, it's more as if he's trying to pull away than anything.

His beak works uselessly once more; it's an obvious struggle, and he drops several meters in the air as whatever force suspending him seems to slacken with his wings still not beating as they should.

It's not—

Whatever that was meant to be is cut off sharply as the raven's head snaps around to watch the circling changelings. The flickering by now seems frantic.

It screams, painfully, and it's the simultaneously terrified and dangerous cry of an animal backed into a corner. The glow surrounding the raven grows brighter as the unseen force lashes out blindly again—but also more spaztic, and intermittently chilling thrills of fear now run through the room along with the already foreboding constant darkness.

[manelesscatking]

The valravn's flailing slices up their thigh, tearing their hose and gouging a deep scratch in their leg. Huǒ grunts and rolls. Another wave of invisible slashes strikes the floor an inch away from their head, taking a chip out of it. Huǒ glimpses the face again - his eyes bright; the smile on his lips suddenly nasty.

Barely managing to keep themself in the moment, the page shouts to the typewriter: "We need to keep him from struggling, before one of us loses a head!" Fear churns in their stomach, and the darkness forces them into tunnel vision.

[justbeclaws]

The typewriter doesn't answer out loud; no need to draw attention to herself. Huo hits the ground and though they roll, for a moment she sees a kind of echo in the flickering candlelight, someone who hit the ground and didn't move again. She blinks and the echo is gone.

Some kind of trick, unimportant. Instead of trusting her eyes, she trusts her ears. They tell her where the valravn is, and she leaps for it, aiming to grasp it behind the wings and bear it to the floor with the full weight of her body.

[knightwinged]

The spectral nails lash out again in desperate reflex as the typewriter leaps, but in their haste they hit only air. She strikes true through the strange pressure of the flickering light, the raven forced roughly to the ground and pinned.

Something gives beneath her, and the valravn makes the first physical sound he has in the entire encounter, a sharp, pained screech. Any of the fear or uncertainty that had clouded the atmosphere a moment prior abruptly disappears as the glow intensifies.

Enraged, more than half mad with panic, and its grasp on this body surer than it'd been seconds ago, the raven shrieks once more in their minds, loudly enough to hurt. Not an instant later does the phantom force strike again, this time in wild blows heavy enough to force anyone and anything in the immediate vicinity back and away from it.

As soon as there's even a hint of a chance for escape, the raven's body takes off and makes to flee.

[manelesscatking]

As soon as the typewriter has the bird pinned, the page runs in to help. Unfortunately, they misjudged how connected the strikes and the movements of the valravn are. They feel the air part in front of them and throw themselves right.

Huǒ dodges aside just in time; the spectral nails strike their collarbone rather than their skull. Bone cracks in their shoulder as they fall to their knees with a cry of pain. Sinking into their memory, they watch a sword swing up and down, unable to stop its slicing toward their throat. If he hits them in the neck, the boy will kill them, and there is nothing they can do.

The page collapses, crying out as the blood spreads on their tunic. The feline and the gargoyle are left alone with the possessed bird.

[justbeclaws]

She knows she has it, knows there are wings beneath her hands and nothing free to hit her, but it hits her anyway, something she can't see and is in no position to stop. Blunt force strikes her full in the sternum, and the only thing she can do to even mitigate the blow is flow with it and let it punch her into the air. She hits the ground in a roll that ends in the wall, with nothing but a few feathers for her trouble and no breath in her lungs. It takes a full minute before she can try to push herself up. It was not her best idea; pain stabs her ribs and she crumples again.

She settles for rolling until she can see the rest of the room. The valravn is gone, unless it's hiding somewhere in the shadows, but the hall is too quiet for that.

Huo's down, and the dark spots on them can only be blood. They're down...(Their hair is too bright, but in the poor light their skin could be grey, their blood could be green.) She staggers to her feet, ignoring the pain, and stumbles across the floor. "Get up!" she shouts, or means to shout, but she breathes too deep and the words vanish in a pained cough. "Get up! You have to get up!" She's not sure in the moment what will happen if they don't.

[manelesscatking]

The voice the page hears is wrong; there's supposed to be a man to save them, but the voice is pitched too high and telling them to do something that will barely help.

They scream again as the dull practice sword flashes, a slow and painful death attending them. The boy is determined, in their mind's eye; if their eyes weren't closed they would be able to see a murderous glint. The typewriter, the grotesque, and the retreating bird are wholly forgotten in the midst of their panic.

[justbeclaws]

She's moving as if in a dream, and it does feel like the worst kind of dream: she's back there, only this time she can't run. They're chasing her (she can't hear them, but she didn't hear the last thing that hit her either), she knows, she can't see them but she knows, and no one will help.

In her mind the hall is thronged with half-recognized figures who do nothing but watch.

She reels her way to the page, gripped by the necessity of flight but determined to somehow fight the nightmare. She's not going to leave them this time.

She drops to her knees by their side. She would find it hard to run away and leave them if she wanted to. She shakes them by the shoulder. "Please, please get up, please!" If they're alive, they can run and not be caught.