interstellar5555 | ☆TRACK V: I WILL TWIST THE KNIFE PT. 2

Who: Everyone in the last part of the log.
What: Everyone has a terrible night.
When: December 7th, 2054
Where: Naomi's ocean side mansion, followed by a secret Pride laboratory.
Warnings: Violence, blood, and at least one murder. Vague gore. NPCs being unhinged in a threatening way, though it's possible to have your character avoid ended up in the ballroom if you don't want to see this mess.

☆I WILL TWIST THE KNIFE

The bubble has burst. The chaos of the night’s violence has finally boiled over into something uncontrollable – blood has been spilt, screams have been heard. No matter where you are in the mansion, you know by now that something is acutely wrong. Multiple members of Pride have been hurt – possibly killed – and you may still have no idea why.

Some will try to escape. Some will try to fight back. Yet, as any rebellion starts to descend, a piercing note - a melodic cry - will summon you towards the ballroom. It can be resisted, in part - but only as far as you find yourself frozen in place instead of moving forward, at least while this spell holds. It's drawing you to the source...if you follow it, maybe you can stop it. The compulsion is strong for members of both labels.

The cry seems to echo long past its termination point, to be heard wherever you are. If followed, it will bring you to Naomi Rivers in the center of the ballroom, her expression creased with strain. Though you may desperately want to strike her, something intangible is holding you back.

"No!" she shouts at any Virgo nearby. "It isn't done! You need to...you need to finish this!" She'll point desperately at the nearby Pride, rendered unable to flee. "Get them now!"

You don't want to.

"Do it!"

The compulsion weighs heavily on you - for Virgo, to act, and for Pride to surrender themselves. All subtly has disappeared. This last effort is unconcealed and nearly hysterical. You feel yourself slipping beneath the soundwaves. Power rolls off of her, the energy thick in the air, like something you can taste and smell.

You can't do this.

"I command-"

The fabric of space-time cracks like a peal of thunder. All at once, the spell shatters.

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And just like that, Luce is in front of him. Did she teleport? No, she's just practically everywhere on the moment. It's her way of coping, fussing over everyone else until she can rationalize just... what on earth happened.

"Come on, then, let's get you to the bathroom to clean you up, alright?" Does San have protests? It's debatable if they'll be heard as she starts to gently herd him out of the room.

After being being weirdly numb to the rest of it, it is somehow Luce appearing in his face that almost makes him scream. It's a sudden, violent compulsion that he somehow manages to swallow before it happens, but it's like a whole night's worth of tension wants to come out all at once.

...In the form of something that isn't pee, anyway. Wah wah wahhh. Heh. This is terrible.

"Whoa there, lady," he says, with a tense laugh. "It's cool, really. I'm mellow with the yellow at the moment, I mean, it's not like I have any spare shorts."

God, why does he keep talking? Oh right, because this is the only way he knows how to handle stress. He just...really doesn't need a fellow artist attempting to wipe his pee pee or whatever is happening here.

"You can clean them out in the bathroom," Luce says bluntly. It should be noted that she's still trying to guide him out of the ballroom. Whatever is going on here, it's... not something they should stick around for. At least, certainly not until the corpse is gone.

"It'll be uncomfortable to deal with on the ride back home, and..." She trails off before shaking hr head. "Let's just focus on the little things for now."

Baby steps. Baby steps all the way to what the hell happened tonight. Start with piss, work up to murder.

Her tone is...weirdly familiar? No nonsense mothering. It feels like something he's dealt with in the past, but he can't really think of any time that he's been mothered by anyone in the past. Even his own mom, who...does he have a mom? He doesn't think he does.

Luce is...also not his mom. But maybe she has a point about leaving the murder room.

"Well, you heard the lady," he says to no one in particular. "Be right back, guys." He will allow Luce to start carting him off at this point, his face flushed sort of pink.

"You always this hands on?" he asks.

With Sans finally going along with things, Luce seems to slowly ease up. At his comment, however, she blinks before holding her hands up with a small "Oh!" A sheepish smile crosses her lips as they exit the ballroom.

"Ah... Yes. It's a habit. I've been working on it, but I suppose it slipped my mind."

"Hey," he says, his mind gradually crawling back together. "Sounds like this kind of attentiveness could come in handy. I tell ya, hands-down, the fastest I've ever been given a hand in this tense of a situation. You must get rewarded hand-somely for this level of dedication."

Now he's just babbling. If left uninterrupted, it seems like it might go on indefinitely.

As he rambles, Luce nods and giggles, because it's quite an impressive feat considering the level of panic that's gone on. Since he doesn't see to have anything against it, she pats his shoulder too as he goes on. Soon enough, however, there's a bathroom.

"Here we are, dear." A small squeeze of his shoulder. "Can you take care of yourself?"

Nice of her, to just humour him running at the mouth like that. He almost doesn't realize they're at the bathroom until she's pointing it out to him and offering to leave him to his own devices.

"Always do, heh," he says, the chuckle coming out hollowly. He wanders forward into the bathroom, snapping on the light. Then he seems to freeze in place in the doorway, like he's not really sure what he's actually intending on doing here.

He's thinking about something very pointedly, but it isn't freshening up his underpants.

Initially, she thinks it's just a bit of hesitancy- being in a strange bathroom, in a house where at least one murder has taken place, after guidance from a woman he doesn't know. When he still doesn't move, however, Luce's brow furrows.

"Dear?" Gently, she reaches over to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention.

After everything that's happened tonight... Who knows what's happening to him? She can't be too careful now.

Yeaaaah, he needs a smoke.

He turns around to face her and shrugs his shoulders. No big deal, right? Totally natural.

"Nah, it's fine. Just letting it all sink in, I guess." His grin is perhaps a little bit too easy. "Thanks for the escort. I can take it from here."

He'll shut the door, go to sit on the edge of the bathtub...and then yeah, he's totally lighting up a joint. Phew.

Unfortunately for Sans, the door is not so thick that she can't hear the click of a lighter. She's not a naive woman. Luce has good ideas about these kind of things. Fortunately, she's also not particularly judgmental either.

There's just a short knock against the door.

"Clean your pants, dear. Don't forget."

Oh my god.

Really, though, he's too distracted to be annoyed. He just keeps lighting up his joint, takes an breath of it, and lets it go. This is not something he wants to handle sober.

"Okay, mom," he calls absently. Whether or not it's sarcastic isn't clear. It's probably sarcastic.

"Don't make me ground you!" Yeah, she can roll with the mom jokes. Still, she supposes that's the best she can do besides getting physically pushy. Hopefully he'll remember this.

For now, best to return to the ballroom and make sure no one else has tried to murder anyone.

☆TRACK V: I WILL TWIST THE KNIFE PT. 2

hey sans, wassup, WHAT A TIME TO MEET HUH

meeting him at his best.

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