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Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Nov 9, 2018 21:18:26 GMT -8
I tried the one on the left first, pushing at it to open. If it didn't work I'd try the right one.Edmund- "I'm out on Zug, love. Surprised the reception works at all. I can hear you just fine. I was meant to be going into the engine room but now I don't know where I am. One room looked like my hotel and it had my phone but that's impossible. I think I might be having a mental break or something."
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 9, 2018 21:20:46 GMT -8
Gisselle- "Huh? Are you suuure...?" She sounded like she thought you were kidding. "Well, I'm sure you're doing your best. Is your patient with you?"
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Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Nov 9, 2018 21:31:04 GMT -8
Edmund- "I wish I was kidding... Mills? No Diane was on the phone before you. I uhh… it just changed. I think she was having an episode or something. No I'm alone. I need to find Mills at least. What good am I lost?" I tried the one on the left first, pushing at it to open. If it didn't work I'd try the right one.
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 9, 2018 21:39:59 GMT -8
On the left, you found a room full of arcane machinery. Must be what
a ship's intestines look like. The works were all dormant though, rusted
to fiery oranges that seeped into the dank water.
Gisselle-
"Diane? Who's that?"
On the right you found another hall-- bizarrely this one had carpeted floors
beneath the water. The walls were bare white and the back end disappeared
into the darkness.
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Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Nov 9, 2018 22:56:50 GMT -8
Edmund- ”Musician with disassociative disorder, I thought I mentioned her. She has these really interesting moments where she hears music and smells things that aren’t there. She should have been a writer because her descriptions are amazing. I uh gave her my number for emergencies. Not my brightest moment. How are you all there?” I stepped into the carpeted hall, time for squelching, I guess. I moved forward looking for signs of life.
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 9, 2018 23:05:56 GMT -8
The hall came to a corner, with a big plastic office plant bobbing around in the oily water, and a tasteful framed watercolor of sailboats hanging above. Gisselle- "Oh... I'm sure. No one I should be worried about, right? Ha ha..." There was some background noise behind her, you could barely discern over the
hum from your side of things-- sounded like chugging machines. Maybe she was doing laundry.
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Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Nov 9, 2018 23:17:35 GMT -8
Edmund- ”Of course not! You know it’s just you. I would never do that to you or Tabby. You’re my one, Gis. Where are you?” I strode forward through the wet.Where the hell were they? Speedy cops? What kind of ship had this been, I had thought it was industrial or freight. This seemed like a passenger ship. An odd odd one.
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 9, 2018 23:57:41 GMT -8
Gisselle- "I'm at your home, of course." The hallway broke into an open area, replete with a row of filing cabinets. It started to seem familiar, despite the strange shadows obscuring the geometry. This looked like your old offices... The bathrooms were there on the left, and the lobby would be straight forward, wouldn't it...?((Feel free to make up some about the layout of the place, though it should be more spare than usual, and of course no one is there...))Gisselle- "Honey, where is this 'Mills' person at now?"
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Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Nov 10, 2018 0:33:28 GMT -8
Edmund- ”It’s our home. Heck, you paid for it. Mills? Wish I knew. Probably on his way to the engine room with that guard.Why? I’m not in danger from him... there’s meant to be cops everywhere. Honey do you remember my old offices? It’s the strangest thing...” I made a move for the lobby. The peace lily was there and the old couch with the lumps but some of the pictures were missing. The reception desk sat in its old spot but no chair.Where was the water tank?What was with the water... My office was off to the right of the lobby, was it still there?
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 10, 2018 0:44:18 GMT -8
Gisselle- "Your old offices? What are you doing there? It's time to come home soon, isn't it?"
Sure enough, your office door. The same old whiteboard was there, and a smeared message remained. A phone number... It looked vaguely familiar. Whoever it was had drawn a few loopy hearts around it. Gisselle- "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
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Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Nov 10, 2018 3:12:13 GMT -8
Edmund- ”What? Nooooooooo. It's nothing. I told you I don't know how I'm here. My old offices aren't even in Detroit. I'm getting worried. Maybe the journalist was right and Mills madness is catching. I uh... I'm trying to remember something. Did you ever leave your number at my old office?” I put my hand on the whiteboard.Had it been Anne? I had to stop her treatment because we'd both been too attached, mostly her but I hadn't helped things. I had been younger and still restless. Still I had been honest about it with Giselle. I had skipped some details but she'd known. investigate acakuNUi+ +0 ·
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 10, 2018 17:09:11 GMT -8
Gisselle- "Honey, are you okay? Maybe you should just rest somewhere."
Hmm, now that you've thought of Anne, you can't help feeling like this was her
number. You can't be positive though. She'd never have written it out in public
like this, that was for sure.
Gisselle- "I hope you don't let that Mills guy get to you. Don't go 'too deep', it can't end well."
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Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Nov 10, 2018 17:41:59 GMT -8
Edmund- "I wouldn't worry about that. Every time I got close either the guard or his lawyer interrupted me... He was almost going to tell me why he kept Butcher alive then that police officer interrupted. It's all been one big interruption. I haven't employed my most ethical methods but I was trying to get the job done. It's not easy trying to wake up a killer who's dead to the world. I guess I am tired. I just want to work with Mills uninterrupted. Find out what really made him do all that. You don't just wake up one day and slaughter a family, cops and small children. Do you? Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and go on a rampage... Sorry. I just don't understand any of this but I'm meant to right? That's what they pay me for... Maybe I should rest..." I pushed through the door.Anne was an old problem and I had enough new problems to deal with. She had been young and fresh like I had been. I looked inside my office for my old couch, it had been designed after the classic Freud one, a silly present Gisselle had brought me when we first became serious. She had brought a lot of things. Made me wonder sometimes if she'd brought me. Could have I gotten here on my own? Where would I be if I had called Anne's number? Not the one on the office door but the one she had hastily scrawled on my notebook leaving a cloud of perfume to caress my nose. Probably working at some dive still with erratic patients who missed appointments. Probably still here and a nobody who lived through others.
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Post by ◊◊BLOODBEASTER◊◊ on Nov 10, 2018 17:59:26 GMT -8
There on the Freudian couch, lay a crusty mannequin. Coated with slime and rust,
it looked like it'd been fished straight out of the river. It's arm draped down languidly,
one leg bent in a parody of an alluring pose. The face was completely worn away,
just a sanded down approximation of features.
Your old office chair was there, surprisingly clean. An old fashioned tape recorder,
(Boy those things were clunky,) was whirring away.
Scrawled on the wall behind the mannequin were these words, written with smudgy
marker right on the plaster wall. I am a vessel to be filled Teach me how to think Let me learn from the master Gisselle's line had gone silent without even a click.
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Post by ∆§Indea§∆ on Nov 10, 2018 18:33:05 GMT -8
Edmund- "H..Hello? Giselle?" I felt slightly panicked with my lifeline gone. Whether it was Giselle or not the sound of her voice was always a comfort to me. Was she just listening or had she really hung up on me? I tucked the phone into my pocket in case she rang back."What was the mannequin doing there? It had never been there. Mannequins had always given me chills. Their empty faces, staring out forever as mockery of the human form. Far more perfect than we could ever be. Who had put this all here. The mannequin, the words. Was it all for me? I was no master. How could I hope to teach anyone anything. I was just a reflector to help others fill their holes. This mannequin wasn't going to talk to me. Tell me about all the interesting and mundane things in its life. Do all the things I failed to do myself. I sat in my chair, at least it was familiar enough. I stopped the recorder, rewinding it and playing it out of curiosity. Had this mannequin divulged its dark secrets to my empty chair. I laughed aloud at my own poor joke.
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