[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/626e6295-e0f1-4bb3-a2fc-2a80907e597a.png [/img][/center] [color=5486ae]Time:[/color] 10 AM [color=5486ae]Location:[/color] Sorian Temple [color=5486ae]Interactions:[/color] The Perfumer [color=5486ae]Mentions:[/color][hr] [hider=Trigger Warning: Body Horror, Death] John was expecting an assassin to come out of the mist to attack him, not to be misted on by the perfumer nearby. In hindsight it was rather obvious her movement was not natural, but tunnel visioning is a darn thing. It got everybody, and now he saw the abyss he had crawled his way out of. [color=ed1c24][h3][b]"YOU HEARTLESS MONSTER! YOU LET HIM DIE!"[/b][/h3][/color] A screech came from his right, where one of the audience member had morphed herself into. He remembered her face clearly. This was the wife of a man whom by the time John had reached him, his [i]face[/i] was gone, but he was [i]still[/i] conscious. John could only leave him to his unimaginable fate. His wife had to be restrained, her eyes were seeing blood as her image disappeared from his vision. Then he heard a hair-raising scream to his left. A nurse was desperately clamping on a woman's body. Her skins were blistering, red all over her body. She beat her chest and clawed her face repeatedly as her lungs grew hoarse after hours. This was the one who John thought was recovering a few days prior. She lived in agony for another few days before succumbing. [i][color=f49ac2]"The worst part is, they will not even get the grace of having their brain or their hearts perishing first."[/color][/i] A howling, unfeeling wind made him shiver in place, even though the sun was out and no wind was blowing. His hands shook uncontrollably. And this was nowhere near the actual horror he had seen that day. No horror fiction story could even come close to scaring him. But even as terror gripped on him, somewhere inside his mind was his consciousness resisting the temptation to give in, cerebral enough to understand that this was not Alestal. He was in Sorian. Whatever he's seeing is not it. John gritted his teeth. His eyes opened to a terrifying red, as his right hand reached hard into his left sleeve, as if he was pushing against something inside it. Then all of a sudden, his temperament cooled, as he took several deep breaths. He stood up straight, his left hand gripping into his sleeve, hiding it behind his back, his reddened eyes staring directly into the perfumer with unveiled contempt. [color=5486ae]"An apology will not simply cut it today."[/color] He retained some of his usual politeness, but obviously his mannerism was no longer the passive kind man that he came off as. [color=5486ae]"You've sprayed a high-ranking official Varian doctor with poisonous chemicals today. This will not be taken lightly. I [color=ed1c24][b]demand[/b][/color] to speak to your owner."[/color] [/hider]