A new soul? Why, I am so honored! Welcome to the bloodbath, my dear. Enter and beware, you are likely to leave this mortal form in a decidedly unpleasant manner....But do not fear, child! There are more like you and we kill them every day. They think I am sadistic for it--am I? I suppose that is a question between my psychiatrist and I, funny thing, that, no? But to be kind, I suppose I shall give you a small aid, a gentle push...But whether that push is towards death or life, no one can really tell.
Get on with it? You ruin my fun. Here you are, my dears, your next clue: the one who kills in the land of betrayal has killed before in the land of war. He has used children, my sweets, children to do his bidding! What a ghastly man, if he is a man, no? Perhaps creature would be a better word, or dear me, what's the word for what he is again?
I'm sure you know, don't you, my dears? Why, you even know his names, if you can recall that time of blood and misery...We may be in Coventry, but we have never left Altsoba, now have we? How
peculiar that is.
December 28th, 2016 - Coventry Horrors, Lobby In the lobby of the Coventry Horrors hotel, Andromeda nods vaguely at Emmie, the phone still pressed to her ear. The voice on the other end continues to talk, giving her instructions to attend the circus performance that evening, and to come alone. In the background, the sound of screaming can be heard, an inhuman scream, the scream emitted by someone whose mind has vanished and left behind an empty shell.
"And if I don't go, asshole? What then?" Andromeda snapped, her voice as angered as it was soft.
"You're just some sick punk, you know that? I'll kill you myself. Don't need the police for this." Somehow, she had a feeling that the voice belonged to the man who had killed her father. She had a funny feeling about it.
"I would like to see you try, Miss Aldrich," the voice replied, before the line went dead. Andromeda rolled her eyes, about to turn to Emmie when she stumbled a bit, falling to her knees on the ground. Choking on her own tongue from all appearances, blood began to trickle out of her nose, as she gasped for breath.
"Hex...bag..." Andromeda wheezes, hardly able to get a word out, as she feebly tries to make her way to the counter, her hands searching for something. The blood continues to trickle out of her nose, a small stream picking up out of her ears. The choking and gasping only seems to be getting worse as well.
December 28th, 2016 - Coventry Horrors, Seventh Floor Meanwhile, up on the seventh floor of the hotel, our group of misfits is still standing around the wardrobe, with a corpse just a few feet away by the dumbwaiter. The scene is a charming one, to say the least. Aloise frowns ever so slightly at Liam, but she nods a bit in understanding, with the subtle implication that he
better spill the beans later. Most of the people in the room were Altsoba survivors, after all -- with the exception of Agent Keenan.
"Beats me," Agent Keenan shrugged. "Nuns usually say the same thing." He then turns to his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he hits the C last names, and he begins dialing up a storm. Hardly anyone seems to be answering, but that isn't stopping him. He calls one and then moves onto the next, just as procedure dictates.
But more worrisome is the wardrobe--it has started to shake. The tunnel to parts unknown seems to be creeping closer, if that's even possible. It could be an optical illusion, of course, but is it really? Either way, someone might want to shut that door...if you're brave enough to even touch the thing, that is.
December 28th, 2016 - Cirque Anomaly At the circus, things have been eventful, to say the least. They had their first performance scheduled for that evening since the brief Christmas break, and already, tensions are running high.
Boris Valeska, playing the dutiful role of grieving widow and horrified father, was screaming up a storm in the big tent. Everyone had cleared the area, with the man chucking knives in every direction, swigging more alcohol, and smearing more stage makeup onto his face. He was spiraling, to say the least, and hardly anyone knew what to do.
The oldest members of the troupe were off in a meeting, a judicial hearing of sorts. The results would determine what the circus would do--if they'd help the police find Folly or if they'd hide the little one. Odds were, it would be the later. However, there was some whisperings that they might take this moment to be rid of the Valeska family in general. Fiodora was the favorite of the three, after all, and she was dead--likely because of either Folly or Boris.
With Lilith being new to the troupe, she wasn't in the meeting of the oldest first strings. However, the
strong man stops by her tent, peeking his head in before coming in fully. No one is quite sure what his name is--every performance, he gets bored and changes it to something else. With thirty years in the business, most started calling him Strong, just as a way to keep things straight.
"Lil, they've come to a decision," Strong explains. It's no great secret that the man has a crush on the fortune teller, but he's been a perfect gentlemen--thus far. "They've sentenced Valeska to death. Burning at the stake."
December 28th, 1929 - Coventry Horrors, Attic Folly stares at Eudora, before bursting out laughing. It isn't clear if she's just incredibly amused by what Eudora said or if the girl is insane. Maybe it's both, even. The girl lowers the gun ever so slightly, shaking her head. "Of course I know that. I'm not from 1929 either," she explained, rolling her eyes a bit. "Why do you think I'm hiding here? For fun?"
Lowering the gun, Folly didn't let go of it, but made a sign that she wasn't going to hurt Eudora. She smiled slightly, glancing over towards the window. Her eyes got a bit of a vacant quality to them, as if she was seeing things that weren't there, hearing things that weren't being said. "There's a demon in Coventry--a very old one," Folly said finally. She then turned to look to Eudora. "It killed my mother."
