𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔲k𝔢 [ w r i o t h e s l e y ] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
loupmorque) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kaisou2023-11-18 03:17 am
loupmorque) wrote in kaisou2023-11-18 03:17 am
Entry tags:
--- [ cold lockdown ] __// Intro Post
WHO: Wriothesley and You
WHERE: Labyrinth / Libra App
WHEN: Evening of November 20th
WHAT: Wriothesley Arrives -- This place isn't home.
WARNINGS: Mentions of child murder in the first thread.
(click dropdowns for posts--first one has a CW for children screaming/VAGUE mentions of child abuse MAY come up. illprobablytrytoavoidit.)
[ it should have been another day. the primordial sea no longer a worry for he and the people who have found home in a cold and lonely fortress under the sea. for the first time in years, wriothesley could sleep an easy and deep sleep--undisturbed by the idea that he could wake up submerged in seawater that could make all those he's come to know evaporated like seafoam on a shore.
perhaps that was his first mistake. the Duke was never a man who let his guard down, and the one time he did...
he awakes to the sound of screaming. It shouldn't be a sound that could permeate the walls of his office. Having slunk off to sleep on a comfortable red couch, the door to his office locked--noone should have gotten inside.
But.
He's... not on the soft velvet of his office couch. He's in a bed that's not quite threadbare, but close enough that it may as well be. It's a bed he recognises--one he'd spent many days of a false life sleeping too soundly in. There's a sense of panic that starts to rise in his belly as he looks down at his hands--still scarred, still wrapped with cloth. On the bed lay his gloves--on his coat jingled his vision. ...Still himself, too real to be a dream, but still not where he should be.
Instinct tells him to leave the room, and he does--heading towards the sound of that first scream.
...Only for there to be another. In a completely different direction. The sound is shrill and... clearly from a child; and it pulls at his heart in a way that has him dashing down the hallway of... whatever place it was he found himself in.
He takes another turn. Heading towards the sound. Only for another piercing cry for help echoes down the twisting, dark hallways that all... look the same, that all twist and turn down dozens of corridors and hallways, stairwells with doors that are just... empty. The smell of blood lingers in the air, but never does he find a single person. The screams fade and change direction, and it's... dizzying.
One of two things happen here: One, he will find someone else in this horrid place. Someone who, perhaps, came inside to rescue him--someone who he will grab quite roughly by the neck, slamming whomever they may be to a wall with a wild look in his eyes; a feral twist to his lips as his grip remains solid and certain. ]
--Where the hell are we. And you'd better tell me why you brought me here. And where those screams are coming from.
---
[ or, two--he's managed to tear himself out on his own, and you're lucky enough to find the duke on his hands and knees near the forest of Blue Fish Park--doing his best not to throw up the remainders of whatever welfare meal he'd eaten the night before out onto the grass.
Might need a hand here. ]
text: username: theDuke
Stars are different here.
Brilliant method of communication, this little device is, though. What's it called?
Cellphone? Kind of a weird name but. I love the concept, honestly. Might borrow the idea.
Name's Wriothesley. But you can call me 'The Duke' or 'Your Grace' if that's too much of a mouthful--kind of more used to that from back home, anyway.
Tell me about yourselves.
WHERE: Labyrinth / Libra App
WHEN: Evening of November 20th
WHAT: Wriothesley Arrives -- This place isn't home.
WARNINGS: Mentions of child murder in the first thread.
(click dropdowns for posts--first one has a CW for children screaming/VAGUE mentions of child abuse MAY come up. illprobablytrytoavoidit.)
1.__//Labyrinth .
[ it should have been another day. the primordial sea no longer a worry for he and the people who have found home in a cold and lonely fortress under the sea. for the first time in years, wriothesley could sleep an easy and deep sleep--undisturbed by the idea that he could wake up submerged in seawater that could make all those he's come to know evaporated like seafoam on a shore.
perhaps that was his first mistake. the Duke was never a man who let his guard down, and the one time he did...
he awakes to the sound of screaming. It shouldn't be a sound that could permeate the walls of his office. Having slunk off to sleep on a comfortable red couch, the door to his office locked--noone should have gotten inside.
But.
He's... not on the soft velvet of his office couch. He's in a bed that's not quite threadbare, but close enough that it may as well be. It's a bed he recognises--one he'd spent many days of a false life sleeping too soundly in. There's a sense of panic that starts to rise in his belly as he looks down at his hands--still scarred, still wrapped with cloth. On the bed lay his gloves--on his coat jingled his vision. ...Still himself, too real to be a dream, but still not where he should be.
Instinct tells him to leave the room, and he does--heading towards the sound of that first scream.
...Only for there to be another. In a completely different direction. The sound is shrill and... clearly from a child; and it pulls at his heart in a way that has him dashing down the hallway of... whatever place it was he found himself in.
He takes another turn. Heading towards the sound. Only for another piercing cry for help echoes down the twisting, dark hallways that all... look the same, that all twist and turn down dozens of corridors and hallways, stairwells with doors that are just... empty. The smell of blood lingers in the air, but never does he find a single person. The screams fade and change direction, and it's... dizzying.
One of two things happen here: One, he will find someone else in this horrid place. Someone who, perhaps, came inside to rescue him--someone who he will grab quite roughly by the neck, slamming whomever they may be to a wall with a wild look in his eyes; a feral twist to his lips as his grip remains solid and certain. ]
--Where the hell are we. And you'd better tell me why you brought me here. And where those screams are coming from.
---
[ or, two--he's managed to tear himself out on his own, and you're lucky enough to find the duke on his hands and knees near the forest of Blue Fish Park--doing his best not to throw up the remainders of whatever welfare meal he'd eaten the night before out onto the grass.
Might need a hand here. ]
2__// Libra App .
text: username: theDuke
Stars are different here.
Brilliant method of communication, this little device is, though. What's it called?
Cellphone? Kind of a weird name but. I love the concept, honestly. Might borrow the idea.
Name's Wriothesley. But you can call me 'The Duke' or 'Your Grace' if that's too much of a mouthful--kind of more used to that from back home, anyway.
Tell me about yourselves.
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