[IC] In Hunting Beasts and Monsters

[Lucius Cypher]

After freeing the previous person, Donny decided to undo his rope gauntlet for the moment. It was restricting his dexterity, and if the woman was going to try to stop him she should have already. Working his way around the room Donny helped as many people out of their restraints as they could, though he did miss a few either because he didn't notice them, or because didn't want him close to him (Or he didn't want to be close to them).

As he finished up the woman with the gun spoke. She said that they should be thankful not to end up like the insane old man, whom Donny had purposely avoided the best he could, and that they might make for decent hunters. That confused him. "Hunters? What do you mean hunters?" Donny knew what a hunter was, technically speaking. They were people who killed stuff, like animals and occasionally people. But why would they be hunters? Donny certainly did not sign up for this.

Then the woman pointed out how disgusting the room they were in was and that they should meet the Absolute. While he agreed with the former, he was uncertain with the latter. The last thing Donny wanted to do was get himself involved in any more of this nonsense. But at this point, in the back of Donny's mind, he knew he had no choice. Taking the moment to at least limber his body up, he heard someone ask about pooling resources for information, not trusting the strange woman. Donny responded to his question as he walked towards the door. "I'd like to know what's going on too, stranger. But assuming you know as much as I do, which is next to none, she's the only one with answers. Stay in this shithole if you'd like. I'm heading up."

But Donny wasn't the only one in a hurry. Quickened footsteps were heard as someone seemed to have rushed towards the exit. Donny followed with a brisk pace before he heard a door slam up ahead. "I have a bad feeling about this..." Donny hurried towards the door and noticed one of the prisoners, judging by his bound limbs, had tried to attack the woman. Donny would have tried to think about what was going on, weigh his options, and make the best judgement. But in this dim light Donny noticed what the woman looked like, and... Well, Donny is a foolish human. A foolish human holding onto some semblance of morals and a code of honor: he must assist a lady in distress.

All Donny had was the rope in his hand, but hopefully it'd be enough. As he rushed forward Donny fashioned his rope into a sort of noose, and once he was behind the obviously insane person (@Bishop), Donny slung the noose around the madman's neck and tried to pry him off. Donny wasn't at his full strength, but this man was still bound and hopefully didn't expect Donny to interrupt his attack. At this time, the rope user didn't really think about "I should kill this man" or "Try to reason with him". He hardly thought beyond the moment, focused only on achieving his purpose, which was to stop this psycho however he can.

[Spriggs27]

Maria

---

"Well, there goes one more for Rotting Bone to take care of. You all should be thankful, that you didn't ended like him."

---

Maria said as she looked at the writing old man, not even the least trace of sympathy was visible in her wine-colored eyes. "You all should be thankful, that you didn't ended like him. At least for the time being."

"I have to say, compare to the last group, you guys at least look like you have what it takes to be a hunter." Maria waited until most of the newbies were freed by the one who looked like he had a lot of skill with ropes as she wondered if said skill couldn't be put to more... entertaining purposes "Such a shame it had to be a man.", she sighed.

While she observed Dony work the others bindings, Maria took the time to assess everyone who seemed to have come back to their senses, not really caring for the ones who still lay "asleep". But eventually, the huntress decided that it would be the best to brief them on their predicament in a place that smelled and felt a bit less filthy.

"If you are all feeling better now, I'd like explain your current... 'situation'. However, a feces (and some less pleasant things) caked cellar makes for a pretty poor meeting room. Why don't you all follow me upstairs and have your first meeting with the Absolute?"

With that said, Maria turned her back on the newbies and gestured for them to follow her upstairs, but not before throwing a long stare towards a certain blond girl worming herself up on the corner of the cellar. "Perhaps this time things can be a bit more fun..." she thought, finally leaving them to their own devices and finding a less precarious bench to rest Pandora against and wait for them.

@KoL

Sinthe stared at the woman that spoke to them, he listened to every single one of her words as he leaned on the wall and watched Donny untie everyone that was tied, Sinthe was silent and didn't speak to anyone, he looked at the others with almost a glare on his face, he didn't reveal his name to anyone. The white haired man kept his arms crossed across his chest, when the pale woman turned around and began walking out of the cellar, Sinthe watched her closely and silently, he looked to the others in the room for a moment before he checked the bandages wrapped around his forearms and hands, then checked his boots.

Sinthe didn't wait for the others as he walked out of the room following the pale lady out, he didn't feel like sticking around the cellar with everyone else, and knew that he would get a headache from the way how everything was going on down there, he could feel like everyone was gonna be complaining and whining about where they were. When Sinthe thought about the name Absolute his head began to feel as if it was gonna split in half, his then he noticed someone rush by him while he was dazed Sinthe watched as the man rushed up the steps and when he caught up to the guy he noticed that he attacked the woman from earlier.

Acting on instinct Sinthe attacked the man by punching him in the back of the head, then got in between the two of them, he pushed the guy away. " What the hell are you doing ?" He questioned the man, but before Sinthe could let him answer the rope user arrived and Sinthe punched the man while Donny put a noose around his neck." We should kill him." He told Donny.

[Lugubrious]

Though every aspect of Otsune's current situation would have appealed in a sane world to the protective, considerate, or sympathetic instincts of any normal human, no help came. After freeing her from her physical restraints, Donny left to help the others. The brawny fellow, receiving no response from the near-catatonic woman, mistook inability to ask for aid for a lack of need for aid and coldly left her. Though the others could now move, wonder, and speak, none stepped forward to empathize with her and help her come back to her senses; nevertheless, her senses began to return to her.

Otsune's eyes blinked open. Though the cold, the damp, and the smell did not please her, at the very least no riotous sound rattled her skull. Her shivering stopped, and her limbs began to unfurl. The same thoughts ran through her head as had those of the others, but as always she kept her thoughts inside. What a strange manner of place. Are those people, all around me? Have I been lying on this smelly, rough ground? Blood on the stone...? Why can't I remember? Oh, I know. A dream, obviously. I recall going to sleep, being sick too, I think, but not much else. But one never remembers how a dream begins exactly, do they? Slowly, Otsune propped herself up, making each movement with careful deliberation. No matter what, dreams tended to be highly selective in the ways they made sense; she would be certain not to act before she understood how this one worked. Her eyes swept over her nebulous, fetid surroundings. No faces stimulated her recognition, but the architecture of the building itself fascinated her. Almost medieval, this place. I can tell already this is going to be an interesting dream! It's so clear, and real. Her mind drifted to the world she left behind, that hazy but all-important void. Something seemed off about this dream...some sort of expectation. I don't know why, but I feel like I should make this dream count. She sat against the wall, believing the other people to be nothing more than figments of imagination, for they had not demonstrated any humanity to her.

For the next few seconds, she examined what she wore. Upon her person there appeared to be a longcoat, striped leggings, thick-soled shoes, a scarf, an ascot, and fingerless gloves. At this, Otsune smiled. Fancy, but functional. This stuff is cool. Like some classy heroine would wear on a nighttime expedition to fight crime. I remember having dreams like this before, indeed! How wonderfully perfect. Could this have been meant for me? Since this dream feels important, and real, it's like some kind of blessing.

Then came the words of Maria, cutting through the somber, musty dark. Otsune listened with rapt attention, silently and imperceptibly eager to figure out the nature of the dream world. Of all of life's possibilities, exploring one's own imagination struck her as one of the most intriguing. As Maria spoke, Otsune examined her. Bone-white skin and hair, and such elegant clothing! She's like a puppet, or a vampire. I should be careful. After all: red eyes, take warning. Well, they do seem a rather purplish shade of red, but same principle I imagine. Being evasive is good, though. If I die in this dream, or maybe even get hurt, I'll wake up early. What a waste that would be! Of course, the contents of Maria's little discourse made the library of gears within Otsune's mind turn as well. Logically, she assumed that, like a person playing a videogame, she would be the 'hero' of this grim adventure. Otsune, of course, imagined that Maria addressed her directly; what was the point of interaction with dream characters, after all? She almost laughed aloud to hear about a meeting with 'The Absolute'. It is a quest after all! This is going to be a memorable dream, for certain. I'm looking cool, this place is horrid but still neat, and I'm about to meet the exposition character! Thanks be to God for such an amazing gift.

Suddenly flexible and spry, Otsune leaped to her feet, ready to embark. She dashed for the stairs, thinking, hey, in here I'm practically a different person. This looks like a violent and kinda disturbing world, judging by that dead guy in the corner. She did not ponder overmuch the fatally-wounded madman. I'll have to be more assertive to make the most of this kind of world. Let's see, name, name, name. Absolute is a kind of alcohol, right? I'll just call myself my favorite drink: Highball. She quickly made her way up the stairs, just behind a man in black doing the same, only to find the doorway slammed in her face by her predecessor. This unanticipated choice of action drew an appropriately surprised response from Highball. “Ah?” she intoned, not quite a word but still the first noise she'd made.

The sound of human speech from behind her caused her to spin on her heels and throw a questioning glance at Kenji and Donny, not recalling the service of the latter. When Donny charged toward the door, followed by the inhospitable brute, Highball courteously slid to the side to let them pass, and seated herself on the bannister. She watched, impassive but interested and with a derisive expression on her face, as Donny and Sinthe powered through the closed door to attack Bishop and get him away from Maria, who he'd been attempting to do...something too. Highball couldn't tell exactly, given the light and field of few limitations, and felt no small amount of surprise that both of the men could so easily witness it.

In very short order, the hooded assailant found himself overpowered by the combined yet inexplicable gallantry of Donny and Sinthe. When the former suggested killing him, Highball gave a snort of laughter, and relaxed upon her bannister. Wow. It's like a movie!

[harinezumikouken]

Paul Delacroix - From the frying pan and into the fire

Squinting, Paul tried his best to get a good look at his would-be rescuer. Committing the name and face to memory as best he could, Paul only responded with a curt nod as he rubbed at his sore wrists. Partially freed, Paul decided to follow "Donny's" recommendation and worked away at the bindings on his lower extremities. It took some trying, but after a short period of time Paul completely freed himself. Bracing a hand against the wall to his back, he slowly stood. Expecting to collapse immediately, he blinked and was surprised that he hadn't. He was sure that for however long he was out his muscles and joints wouldn't be working properly, not even beginning to mention his back injury. After his initial recovery period, he felt fine.

"Huh. What a pleasant surprise. Today must be a good back day for me."

Remaining silent, he carefully looked around in the darkness in an attempt to spot anyone that may have needed further assistance. Periodically, he looked to the porcelain-doll of a woman that he determined to be his makeshift 'alarm clock', listening absently as she spoke of 'Absolutes' and something along the lines of 'Hunters.' Which, confused him even further as he was sure that he held a different profession. What was it, salaryman? Something having to do with businesses for sure. Either way, Paul took his time to ignore the other goings-on and chose to focus on helping anyone else that needed it. Afterward, he fully intended to obey the Doll Woman's word and followed after her. What could be worse than rotting away in a dark hole? Well, a lot to be honest. But, they were all more preferable ways to die in comparison. He wasn't sure the pale lady was to be totally trusted, but he figured he should at least humor his potential savior a little.

[Savo]

-______ : ???-

The sable realm he was constituted in was not a kind one; ______ found himself traversing the shapeless landscape as it transfigured into masses of hills, shades of mountains, etc. As the world shifted constantly, it abruptly began to end as the crackle of shadows behind ______ began shattering like mirrors. Where they went was unknown, but there was a nasty squelch and splash afterwords. ______ struggled to run away, but alas, when he reached the edge of the volatile, dying landscapes, he only discovered a pool of liquid. It was arduous to discern the myriads of colors before realizing that they were organs of some sort... and most importantly, the fluids below appeared to be blood from his perspective. ______ wretched at the sight before backing up... and plunging into the ichor below. The air was stolen from his lungs as he pounded into the mixture. Struggle as he might, it was futile to attempt escape; it was as if his whole body was paralyzed by a mysterious poison. Slowly as he sunk, blood gushed between his eyes, slowly filling up his lungs and gastric acids within.

Then ______ field of vision went red.

---

Sweat poured down ______ face as he banged and crashed around the area, each droplet softly whispering into the black room as the tormented man rolled around. In a few seconds, he stopped, as if he was cleansed and absolved of any remaining sins. The stillness was terminated as the resounding wail of a mysterious creature seeped into ______ who was wrought with nightmares. As the grit a dust washed away from ______ eyes, the man found himself staring head first at a void. Panting, the man found himself chewing on a rag which tasted of rot and cobwebs. Grunting in surprise, his voice was muffled as he set himself on the task of discarding such a fetid taste from his tongue by consistently moistening the item which made the endeavor simpler when he began gnawing at the wrap. Before ______ realized it, his mouth was free and the rancid cloth made its descent to the floor.

Gasping, the man wretched and coughed as he spat out the torn remains of the nauseating cloth, each bit falling to the floor as he gagged. Panting for a fleeting moment, the man ceased his cacophonous hacking so he might listening to the void, and its subdued scraping. Frantically whipping his head around, ______ began his attempt identify where the location of the grisly grating. In such endeavors, ______ could barely make out the silhouettes of others squirming within the confines of this enigmatic room. With all this darkness, it didn't do him any justice at all; even squinting was futile. ______ could only ponder on their location, if these specified people were ensnared in some cellar or safe with a maniac... so it was obvious this wasn't some special holding room for an insane asylum.

______ made forlorn tries of shifting his hands in the opposite direction, however the tight binds he felt kept him from progressing. The man grunted as he tried to spread his legs wide as he arduously undertook the task of forcefully pulling his hands outwards. The method worked to a minuscule length as he squirmed in an attempt to escape... and possibly assist in freeing the others imprisoned... maybe. As he continued in such attempts, ______ attempted to recall what brought such random ruin, before stopping completely, a scowl finding its way onto his being. The man blinked, before temporarily staying still, as if the life he had depended on such notions.

Why was ______ here? Why couldn't he remember how he ended up here, his past, and most importantly his name?

...

"... the hell? Do I have a severe case of amnesia? Seriously?! Who am I?" As he pondered on such a peculiar question, he noticed a figure arise from the shadows, wobbling a smidgen as if they were a newborn foal. Other shapes took his vision; one in the shape of a lumpy sphere, another was a humanoid figure, standing tall, limbs and all. ______ fearfully reflected on if the sounds came from the body... before it began moving to what ______ presumed was a wall. Seeing as others were freeing themselves, along with another figure offering to assist the large nugget, which he believed was a person, the man picked the pace up to rip his hands through the fabric at a swifter pace. ______ managed to succeed, albeit, his hands were scraped; there was the possibility that there was light bleeding on his left hand, but he could cover up the mundane wound once he left.

"That's going to leave a minor mark," ______ mumbled to himself as he tossed the rope to the side, hearing it softly tap off the wall before falling to the ground with a pap. Flapping his hands away from each other one or two times, ______ began touching the areas around his legs, before gripping familiar material. As he began at his endeavors to become completely unbound, he swore that there was a dog in the cell. Did that man who wailed in agony take a bite out of such a creature and let it ble- no... probably not since the whimpering was near to ______, while the scratching was a bit farther.

Huh.

Whatever it was, they were probably incapacitated and captured like most others in this repugnant area. Of course, before he might assist those ensnared, he would need to rescue himself. You can't (maybe) save those trapped if you yourself were caught, of course. As he undid the final knots, there was a moderate screech which caused the man to flinch as he undid the bonds. Stopping momentarily, the mans head jutted to where the cry emanated from before continuing with his endeavors. Once finished, he threw the remains away as blood flowed once more below his torso; his legs did ache a bit from the course tying. Pushing himself off the floor, ______ legs clamored for a bit before returning to what he discerned as normal.

"Alright, n-"

______ train of thought was interrupted by a mysterious female who beckoned some light into the musty cellar within. ______ shielded his eyes with the newcomers metaphorical shot from the dark... before taking an actual on at the...

What.

The.

Fuck.

His eyes widened in ascending trepidation as the... thing the woman shot at was a... human? Or what was left of it with crusty blood holding onto the areas where their eyes formerly were. Next was the jet black teeth - he wanted to make a joke about dental hygiene, but this was all too surreal! How in the blazes did the man end up in such a despondent state. Even though he wished not to move, despite her command or threat, he slightly shook as his left foot slid back. He remained calm as he glared at the women, before noting the most of the people encompassing the general vicinity; they were all in unique clothing... was he wearing this vest and these twenty bangles before? ______ couldn't perceive if he did previously due to a complete blank over his identity.

Either way, the room was illuminated, thankfully, and positioned his view away from the fallen man. The evisceration of the poor soul was something he did not want to keep analyzing as others shot questions at the supposed captor, or hero of this band of random people. ______, of course, opted to stay quiet, deciding to let others get shot if the pale, red eyed woman did not take the reception of such query kindly. Another sarcastic remark was brought by the white haired fellow who was not helping the situation, at all... moreover, he was possibly screwing them over in the long run...

As another cursed a question about the woman and how she acquired a gun. That was something... to actually save for another time as there were other matters to acknowledge currently. ______ felt his wrists, a warm crimson flowing over his finger. Sighing, the man recalled his arms to both sides as he looked at the another man who seemed to be freeing others from their bindings. ______ could only ponder on how they all congregated in this area...

Before she invited them all to leave the grimy room infested with a less than desirable being. Of course, she mention something peculiar, something about everyone in this area becoming a... hunter. His right eyebrow shot up in bewilderment as he mouthed out hunter before taking a few steps forward. He was curious on a couple of matters, more importantly the fact that he had amnesia. Maybe he could quiz some of the other people in a hopeful attempt at grasping at how they were retrieved and brought here?

As he opened his mouth, the boy in glasses went out, lashing at the old man for question, as if he was some sort of detective interrogating a hapless suspect. Of course, it was difficult to ponder on if the boy was completely heartless as the next words he boomed were weaker, and of course to the group. While he did make a logical point, there was the facet that she didn't just murder the freed hostages in cold blood... plus, the aura she heralded meant she possibly knew what she was doing, despite appearing less than... desirable in a friendly spectrum.

Of course, one of the captives took it upon themselves to fleetingly leave the room, surged by lightning of sorts. ______ shrugged, as he looked at the kid and his facade, feeling that it could shatter into myriads of pieces any second. One of the men addressed his fiery attitude with logic which was hardly inane in his eyes. Another seemed to take their words into consideration, and quickly escaped this wretched basement. Of course, the man with snow white hair followed after the woman who appeared to be in her late twenties, along with another who pursued the way out. In a few moments afterwords, a shrill shriek was heard from the area above which echoed between his ears. This situation was terrifyingly asphyxiating, and yet he was coerced into understanding that there was no other way, but to tread after the woman in black and the five who traversed to... wherever.

"... Well then, that's... something," ______ spoke up in a completely stale way, even with the insanity above. The man glimpsed at the way out, and then back to the young man, his broad face appearing rather disgruntled with an impeccable sense of bravery. "As much as I distaste believing the woman, we don't have any choice but to trudge out of this area... with the others who I presume are... squabbling... And besides, interrogating a half-dead man with gouged out eyes definitely makes for a better informer than someone in one piece..." Shaking his head, groaning irritatingly at the uneventful... eve or day, the man stared at one of the prisoners who had her legs still bound. Blinking for a bit, he closed his eyes before kneeling down and untying the rope around the teenagers legs.

"Why he would leave you in this state after going through the process of freeing you is beyond me," the man murmured as he slowly untied the knot from the girls legs, completely freeing her and allowing the young woman to get up on her own. Afterwords, he slowly began moving up to his towering level once again, looking on at the kid in glasses. There was a visible frown on his face as he judged him and every fiber of his bone on one, metaphysical distinction known as sanity.

"At any rate," ______ turned his attention to the girl he freed, no longer limited by the snags of ropes wrapped around her legs. He could only pray that she was... somewhat sane, as everyone else in the vicinity was interesting in their own exceptional way. Bending over, ______ extended his hand towards the younger, shorter blonde girl, delaying the inevitability of scaling the stairwell. He beamed at the girl as he began his part of the offer.

"Hey kid," ______ said, cool and politely, "need some help getting up? Those bindings were unpleasant and restricted some blood flow, so I'm not sure how you might fair when standing."

Right now, maybe it was for the best to make a couple of allies, instead of antagonizing a person he just met... even though he was kind of demanding the person for answers. Strife and friction would probably harm them, even with the woman's earlier comment of them all being hunter material.

It was ominous, but they all have two choices - rotting here with a maniac, or leaving the feces infested basement... Hopefully it was apparent to the remaining humans what the unerring decision was with such foul factors in play.

[Zeroth]

After he'd spoken, there was silence for a moment, before the guy Kenji had labeled as "mysterious hooded stranger" suddenly began cackling like a madman and ran out after the gun toting woman, slamming the door in the face of several others. Obviously a few moved to follow the guy, rather out of curiosity or just a desire not to be locked in the room again, and the door was flung open once more.

"I'd like to know what's going on too, stranger. But assuming you know as much as I do, which is next to none, she's the only one with answers. Stay in this shithole if you'd like. I'm heading up." Donny had answered, just before following the crazed man. The guy in the martial arts uniform went after him as well, and Kenji stepped closer to peer around the door frame and see what was going on.

Aside from stone stairs and a cold looking corridor, the young man saw the psycho in the cloak attack--and lick?--the woman with the gun.

Chalk him up as dead.

But Donny and the other guy intervened, Donny quite literally lassoing the fool and the other man delivering a hefty punch to the face.

Why not just let her shoot him? In terms of the group as a whole, Kenji didn't have a lot of info to judge people with. But at the same time no one up until now had done something completely out of the blue--except maybe himself, kicking the old man to death and all--so there was a kind of standard in his head right now that everyone stood on. The psycho dropped way below that standard, for obvious reasons. But Donny and this other guy dropped a bit in his opinion as well--why risk themselves for someone they didn't know, much less someone who, in the process of shooting their attacker, might accidentally shoot her rescuers as well? If the bullet had enough penetration power, it might even ricochet around the hall and hit someone in the room. With that thought Kenji moved a little further back.

"We should kill him." the martial artist told Donny. Kenji dropped the man a few more points.

For one thing you don't know anything about what's actually going on yet. Weird as he is, there's still the possibility this guy figured something out and his killing of this gunslinger could be a good thing. For another, nice to know you have the impulse to go for the most escalated form of violence as a first response.

Not like you have room to talk, literally the first thing you did after waking up was kill an old blind man.

Shut up, I still can't acknowledge that right now...and besides, that guy was going to eat -me-, specifically. This psycho wasn't hurting the big guy, just the woman, who already had a perfectly good method of defending herself...

"As much as I distaste believing the woman, we don't have any choice but to trudge out of this area... with the others who I presume are... squabbling... And besides, interrogating a half-dead man with gouged out eyes definitely makes for a better informer than someone in one piece..."

Kenji looked over at the fellow who'd spoken next, a somewhat normal looking guy who was just going about and helping some of the others get out of their binds. Donny had said much the same, and Kenji had to admit they were right. The woman with the gun was at least offering them information for free--whether she tried to mislead them could be determined at a later date with further knowledge.

But as he looked around the room once more, trying to get a gauge on some of those who were finally coming to, he noticed that the woman who had been near catatonic had now managed to get up. She even seemed amused by what was going on in the hallway. But what Kenji labeled as most important about her appearance were her hair, eyes, and facial features.

She's Japanese, like me? I wonder if she shares the same gaps in her memory...

As a matter of fact, when I spoke earlier, everyone understood me. I don't remember being good at English, if that's indeed what we're speaking here. But can I intentionally speak my native language anymore? A few whispered phrases under his breath, out of hearing of anyone else, and he nodded to himself. Any attempt to recall something of my personal life or the history of the place I lived in, just blank. But my education level and the skills I've learned over life seem to be retained.

@Lugubrious "Osoreirimasuga," he began, speaking directly to the woman. "Nihonjin ka?"

<<Excuse me, are you Japanese?>> His speech was a bit on the curt side, but at a moment like this he didn't care about being formal. If she was the same as himself, there might be a possibility to coordinate their knowledge and get a fuller picture of this situation. Maybe they were kidnapped from the same place, along with some foreigners, or maybe they had been foreigners. Kenji had figured out before that he had a high-school level education, and though he wasn't sure of this woman's age, there was the possibility that he had been on some kind of foreign exchange trip or something. Whatever the case, if there was someone here he identified with the most at the moment, it was her.

[BlueAjah]

Lillian

Lillian continued to struggle against the neverending ropes in annoyance and determination, so much so she barely paid any attention to the drama unfolding within the dark room. She would get these ropes undone if it was the last thing she did! As the war between the ropes went on, a man, whispering about helping her, approached. Without hesitation, she stuck out her stiff arms and sat patiently as he undid them.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She croaked, her voice slightly cracked, but before she could show any more gratitude, the man named Donny walked on. The numbness and soft color of her hands slowly began to return to Lillian and she smiled in appreciation once more. Unfortunately, the man had forgotten to untie Lillian’s feet. She tried untieing them herself, but the more she tried, the more it seemed to get tighter. Lillian huffed in irritation.

It seemed several people were looking out for her tonight, for another man materialized near her and freed Lillian from the ropes. At last, she was free! Lillian’s light brown eyes took in the man fully and a soft smile spread across her lips.

“Thank you so much! I know I can stand up on my own though! I can do it!” She called out in assurance and wobbled into a standing position. “My name’s Lili..” Before the rest of her name could escape her mouth, Lillian fell face first right back into the disgusting ground. “An” She finished as she looked up at the man and couldn’t help but giggle at her awkwardness.

Whoever this man was, Lillian felt she quite liked him. She didn’t know where she was or how she had gotten there, but Lillian knew it wouldn’t be as bad as everyone thought. As long as everyone never gave up, things would be okay. She just knew it.

[KoL]

~Maria~

---

"..."

---

Maria was silent, as cold and silent as a tombstone, all the while the insane hunter not only tried to choke her (When was the last time I drew breath? Too long ago... can't remember.), but also licked her face (A man's tongue... disgusting and useless.). The huntress' pupils narrowed almost to the point of being imperceptible and a scowl bared her ivory-like teeth, including two pairs of sharp fangs.

If it were not for Sinthe and Donny pulling the demented hunter away from her, Maria would have been tempted to show him what true madness is like, but it was too late now. However, after they had subdued the man, the two hunters would notice a gush of crimson flowing from his mouth and the throes characteristics of one fighting for breath. On Maria's bloodied hand was the tongue which licked her but a moment ago, still spewing squirts of blood as Maria discarded it on the floor unceremoniously. "I hope you have enjoyed the taste. Now, drown in your delusions and die."

How she did that? Only God, or perhaps the Devil, will know.

A couple of minutes later, as the insane hunter's torch was finally blown away, after an agonizing departure...

"Let's get the cat out of the bag first," Maria said, taking a look at the hunters that had already assembled at the chapel while cleaning her hand with a handkerchief that appeared to belong to one of high-birth, considering the intricate embroidery and silky look. "You are all dead, and this is what you got for afterlife. Neither Heaven, nor Hell, just this pitch-lack, grimmy place and I —Maria E. B'thory—, as your humble hostess."

"Also, you'll all notice that you've lost some (all) of your memories. This is the catch of this game, if you manage to recover them, you might be able to meet you fate. In the mean time," Maria made a pause, to let the info sink on their minds, before resuming her explanation, "You're to live as hunters —Jaegers, if you fancy the term— and dispose of the beasts that plague this land of nightmares. Or so, is the will of the one running the show..."

Maria concluded her 'briefing' tipping her prized hat to the newly christened hunters and pointing to the altar of the Absolute, above which the alien god's holy symbol hung. "Ut absolutam gratiam tuam... you'll find all that you need behind the altar. As son as that old fool thinks it's time to make an appearance."

[TheWendil]

The sounds that had plagued the outside world behind the door that sealed the new captives in were not present for one reason or another. As Maria led the fresh group up towards the surface of this world, the presences that was felt all around seemed to draw back. Perhaps it was fear invoked by the monsters, fear of a seasoned Hunter who sought to destroy them.

Regardless of what it was, the group of people were undisturbed for the rest of their journey to the top. The mad, raving would-be Hunter was already lost to the darkness below and if one turned back, they would see the twitching form of Bishop be dragged away by…something. But that wasn’t their problem anymore. At last Maria brought them to what appeared to resemble a small church clearing, seats and pews scattered and pointed towards a single alter at the front.

A single man stood at its apex for the Temple had but one priest of sorts. The man this place called Rotting Bone. A clunky mess wrapped in a tattered cloak and other meshes of clothing, yet they always seemed to blend in perfect ripples with each motion of his ancient body. A cane was held in his wrinkling hand while a hood covered most of his visage from the world.

“Welcome younglings to Iredele,” he greeted, glancing at Maria. “So she’s brought in some new blood….ah, forgive an old man and his ramblings. Kneel and give praise to the Church of Absolute for He gives us prayers in the night. You’ve wandered into the World of Wasted Dreams and into Iredele. No, no, no, there’s no use in thinking that you’ll escape. Thinking like that gets men killed. No…no…..”

The man shuffled off, only to return with an assortment of garbs and weapons. He motioned for the group of unfortunate souls to take them freely and he chuckled at how lost they really were. The world had certainly moved on, now had it?

“No use, no use I say! All that’s left is to hunt the monsters that pollute this town as Maria has said. You don’t get a choice I’m afraid. You either become a Hunter for me and search for your own answers, or you blend in and forget whatever you knew about from before. That’s not my problem. All that is my concern is your donations to the Temple. Now go on then. Run along and become good little Hunters for me…the sooner you kill the beasts, the more people will be running back to my business. Go on then. Out with you. Oh, and if you run into my granddaughter, tell her she’s wasting her time as always.”

Now it was the time to explore the confines of Iredele and search for answers. For a new generation of Hunters was upon the World of Wasted Dreams. And the monsters were waiting in the shadows. As the Hunters went off doing their own things, Rotting Bone chuckled to himself as he headed towards the basement of the Temple.

"Afterlife...does she really expect them to believe that?"

---

@KoL, @harinezumikouken, @Savo, @BlueAjah, @Lucius Cypher, @Spriggs27, @Lugubrious, @ClocktowerEchos, @Zeroth

[Lugubrious]

As Bishop fell to his back, blood welling up in his mouth like a clogged drain, the trepidatious light afforded Highball a look past the hood that made the man seem more ravenous ghoul than human. Beneath the black fabric and the shadows of anonymity it cast, there lay a face nonetheless. Truth to be told, this discovery filled Highball more with disappointment than anything else. One's imagination always seemed to provide a more fascinating view of the unknown than it ever turned out to be once explored, and in this case Highball had craned her neck to see if some sort of uncanny wraith lay beneath that ebony cloth, but she came away disappointed. Of course, the grotesquely silent spread of blood over stone, sinking into its pitted surface and sliding through its cracks like miniature canals, did manage to set her on edge. In a dream, however, she needed not be too concerned with the details.

Looking away from the pitiable, twitching corpse-in-the-making, Highball found her view returning to the strange woman once more. A closer examination of this figure, now only a couple meters from her, made the hairs on the back of Highball's neck rise. Venomous words flew from the fancy mannequin’s bloodless lips, and with a start Highball realize the scrap of moist rubbish just now tossed with palpable contempt on the floor to be none other than the ripped-out tongue of the newly-drowned. My word. How intense! I did not imagine otherwise, but this realm is not one to be taken any sort of lightly! Now thoroughly unnerved, Highball averted her eyes from Maria, having concluded her to be a loathsome entity with only a cursory facade of humanity.

At that moment, one of the others approached Highball. His sudden appearance momentarily filled her with surprise, as if Kenji's visage was a slap in the face. The next instant Highball realized that in the few short minutes she'd been a part of this dream, her only conceived expectation thus far was that she'd be a spectator for the dream's events, coasting along for the ride. Being singled out for interaction did not, in light of the wretched act of violence just now performed, lift Highball's spirit. While her muscles went tense, she kept her face stonily impassive, and listened. At first, she surmised the strange strings of noises uttered by her new companion to be some nonsensical, insane utterance. Only after Kenji's question drown in the thick, ripe silence that followed did it pluck the strings of memory in Highball's mind. His alien language suddenly appeared weirdly familiar, but its grasp eluded her. Tantalizing...it's like remembering a the tune of a song, but not the words. Why does it strike me so...? She continued to answer the inquiry with a blank hazel stare, the upturned corners of her mouth hinting at both bemusement and a somewhat patronizing intrigue. Actually, Highball felt rather infuriated that there might be some greater meaning she was too stupid to get. If I feel so obligated to answer, it must be that he asked me a question. What would someone in a dream ask? Who am I? Am I alright? Do I really need my tongue? The best response she could think of was a shrug, slight smile, and nervous laugh, as if to say, Um, I guess so? “Heh?”

The bloodthirsty mannequin saved her from the awkward situation. Wary, Highball turned to listen, and with the others she followed Maria into the chapel. On the way, the tension seemed to diminish, its noose around the hunters' necks inexplicably loosening. Immediately she noticed the altar, and her eyes lit up with curious fire. Dead, am I? Ooh, existential. To make me wonder what's real. Recalling this idea from somewhere, Highball rolled her eyes in a disinterestedly quick and nondramatic manner. Pitch-lack? Hm. Perhaps she meant pitch-black. The comment about memories did not unduly intrigue her. Right, right. Had to be explained somehow. This is the most meta dream I've ever had. Lucid, even. Maria's pause wore on her patience, though the detail that follow brought a smug smile to Highball's face. Hunting beasts! Sounds like a blast. Do I get a shotgun? Or, considering the time period, some kind of pitchfork? When Maria mentioned 'all that you need' behind the altar, Highball practically leaped at the chance, only to freeze stiller than a statue at the sight of Rotting Bone.

An insane child's ragdoll come to life, this man stood before Highball like a scarecrow in the field. She could see nothing but a yawning void beneath his hood, and so swept over his garb with her eyes for horrific inspiration. He seemed an amalgamation of different rags, each abandoned by some unaware fool to coalesce into a single, ghostly being. Looking at him, Highball felt indisputably that Rotting Bone was very, very old; it seemed an ominous coincidence that her mind jumped to the phrase too old to be alive. When his withered lips parted to speak, Highball flinched, and her heart pounded with equal parts terror and excitement.

He asked that she kneel, and the woman's mind conjured up images of graven idols. Hoping it would suffice, Highball bowed to him, gingerly but deeply, but kept her eyes on him the whole time in the fashion of the martial artists. Not looking back to see if the others followed suit, and not remotely caring, Highball waited while he trundled into the darkness before returning to her full height. When Rotting Bone returned, his arms clutched a bounty of death and dignity. He laid it before his fresh congregation, and invited with gesture for them to choose. Highball's eyes shined as she dashed nimble forward, like a weasel darting out from its safe burrow to snag a morsel. Her fingers closed around a night-black handle, and from the pile she withdrew a vicious rake. When she yanked it free, one of its tines snared a red-banded top hat, and taking this as an omen of good fortune, Highball slipped it on her head before stepping away to examine her weapon. Though emaciated and tough as metal, it looked like the torn-off limb of some gargantuan bird. Some huge raven's claw....what's this lever? Out of the three settings, the lever lay in the middle. Highball tentatively pulled it down, and the rake's tines swung together, turning the weapon into a large, intimidating cane. Feeling very dapper, she leaned upon the cane and snickered, watching to see what the others picked. The words of Rotting Bone she thought she understood well enough. Go out, slay monsters, bring back any trophies to this place, snark to some woman, have the time of my life. Easy as pie.

[Lucius Cypher]

Slowly, Donny stepped away from the body, dropping the rope and looking at the corpse in shock. Somehow... Somehow this didn't bother him too much. Not the fact that the person was killed in such a gruesome matter, but at the woman who did it. How was she able to do that? Just how strong was she? How fast? And now that he wasn't in the darkness of the basement, Donny could see that the man from before was huge. Or at least bigger than Donny, and Donny always thought he was a big man. Or at least he somewhat remembers being the bigger man, his memories weren't really helping him. Either way, between the woman and the man-shaped wall of flesh near him, Donny was fearful. He had no idea what was going on, who these people were, and what was going to happen.

The woman made things very clear shortly after. It was simple, but Donny was looking for a different answer. Perhaps he was making things overtly complicated, but part of him would rather be involved in a complex conspiracy than the simple realization that he's dead. The woman, Maria, made it clear to them that this is their purgatory, and if they want to get out of it they needed to become Hunters. It was so simple, but Donny wanted to ask questions. He wanted to find other options, a loophole, to not play this game. But as he stood there numb, he took a deep breath and sighed. "Well... I guess... I guess that's it then, huh? I mean..." Donny looked towards the other survivors, looking for validation. "She's.... If she's right, then that's what we'll have to do, right? We become hunters and fight monsters. Fuck. This all feels like a dream... Like some sort of game. It has to be, right? I mean... Heh. Heh ha ha ha ha!"

Donny began to laugh hysterically. He was deeply conflicted right now. It wasn't just because he was going to deny that he was dead. But part of him actually wanted to try this crazy hunter gig out. He was on the edge of having nothing to lose and becoming nothing at all. Perhaps, for the sake of his own sanity, he needs to accept both things: That he doesn't want to die (Or think he's dead) and become a hunter. It can't be all that bad, right?

So the young man turned towards everyone. He didn't realize it, but he was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, which he got during one of his falls back at the basement. The blood dripping down his chin made him look even more delusional than he realized, but he was going to try to act like the beacon of stability. The alternative was something he did not wante to embrace, as the corpse (That was there before being dragged off) at his feet demonstrated. "Okay! No sense in trying to parse out facts from fiction. Miss Maria, right? My name is Donny. I think, Donny Yang? That sounds about right. I'm guessing form your attire that you're also a hunter. Fascinating! Hey, where are you going?"

Donny followed Maria to the alter, where they were greeted by yet another strange, rambling old man. At least this once doesn't seem like he was going to eat them. Immediately. He essentially made it clear to Donny and everyone else listening that becoming hunters and fighting monsters was the only thing they could do. In truth this made Donny a little happy; at least now there won't be any uncertainty about what he should do here. There was some doubt, sure, but ultimately becoming a hunter was greater than trying to escape this place. "The World of Waking Dreams... Sounds nice. So this building, or town or country or whatever, is Iradele?" Donnt wasn't able to see much outside yet, but hopefully for the World of Waking Dreams, it'll at least be scenic. If it really was nothing but darkness, well that would quickly stop being so scary and just downright tedious.

There was also other things the old man said. Donations, other people, and his daughter. Donny wasn't certain what sort of donations this old guy would want. He assumed that since they were hunters, they needed to bring back proof of killing their prey. Things that Donny guess would be like claws, horns, or even heads of monsters. Hearing about other people made Donny wonder if others like himself have already been here and made a community. At least there's some comfort knowing that he won't essentially be bumming it in the wilds. And lastly was mention of the old man's daughter. Taking an educated guess, Maria was not the old man's daughter. Who that was, Donnny didn't know. And it'll be hard for him to pass along a message to someone he doesn't know.

But questions could come later. Right now he needed to gear up. The old man had dropped of a a pile of weapons and other junk in fairly good condition. Donny saw guns, swords, clubs, tools, the works. But for weapons like the guns, he knew almost instinctively that they were very old-fashion. Perhaps it was lingering memories of his past life, but he was certain that he has seen (perhaps even used) guns before that were much more... Advanced than these flintlocks and muskets. He picked up a few, taking note that some had cool features such as multiple rotating barrels or are break-action, but with no bullets in sight these were nothing more than fancy clubs to Donny.

Putting the firearms away for the others to pick out Donny looked for other things he could use. He didn't fancy swords too much and was considering grabbing a knife, but he saw a hand-axe underneath the pile. Digging towards it Donny lifted it up in the light to give it a good look. It was a simple axe, no engravings or fancy embellishments on it. It was neither dull nor rusty, and the wood felt solid and strong. There was some scratches on the surface but no chips or cracks. While the axe head felt weighted, the overall axe was very light. Donny guessed it was barely two pounds, if even that. He was almost tempted to hurl it at the wall to see if it could serve as a throwing axe, but refrained from doing so. He'll get a chance to practice later.

As Donny shifted through the pile for something he could use to hold his axe he also found a length of rope. It was in a tightly wrapped bundle, but once it was in his hands Donny just knew how to undo the knots, allowing all of it to fall to his feet. "Alright, I definitely got some strange relationship with rope..." Feeling the rope around his hand and fingers, Donny knew that this rope was much stronger than the rope that was used to tie him up. After spent a few moments examining the quality of the rope Donny tied the rope back into a bundle. Holding onto both the axe and rope, Donny realized that he had no way to hold these objects. His pants had some pockets he could stuff them into, but they won't hold the items firmly. Looking through the pile of clothing Donny found a harness/bandoleer that would be perfect for holding onto his weapons, as well as other miscellaneous things he could attach to the loops and straps. He also found a nice, thick trench coat with more straps and pockets he could use. He decided to take both, though was he sadden that he couldn't find a matching hat.

Donning his hunting gear and holstering his tools Donny figured he might try and grab a gun when he spotted something even better. For the purpose of hunting monsters no one would consider taking this, and it was precisely why Donny was going to take it. This world, their memories, their very purpose was empty and meaningless. Donny wasn't going to deny it. But he wasn't going to believe that there's nothing they can do about it. A blank world makes for the perfect canvas. In this place where there is nothing but trouble, it is the ripe grounds to make a solution. The screams, the cries, and roars, Donny was going to get rid of them. He was going to drown them with the sound of music.

The pale young man walked towards the acoustic guitar, gently holding it in his hands and strumming the strings. It was heavier and harder than it's appeared, but Donny didn't care too much about that. He strummed a few notes together, the soft whistles familiar to his ears. It was comforting. And with any luck, perhaps Donny could use this tool to defeat monsters. "Silly I know... But this is a crazy world. And I'm a crazy man." Smiling to himself, Donny made a sling for his instrument and slung it onto his back. Feeling sufficiently equipped Donny went back to the Maria, as the old man was gone, feeling a bit more confident in himself.

"Say beautiful, you got time to answer some questions? Cause I'm going to ask them anyways. For starters, rags mentioned something about donations. I'm guessing that he wants us to bring back parts of the monsters we kill for some reason or another. But what's in it for us? Surely there's a reward for bringing back the bits of beasts we'll be fighting, if the reward of slaying them isn't enough. Also he mentioned other people. How many people are in Iradele? Any merchants, cooks, doctors, craftsmen? Also who is his daughter? If he want us to pass his message to her, I'll have to know who she is and what she looks like first."

[Zeroth]

The sounds and sights that broke Kenji's conversation with the other woman made him take yet another step away from the door. Partly, he hadn't really been looking, so maybe that was why he couldn't see it. Or could the pale woman truly be that fast?

And those fangs aren't normal either.

None of this is normal. It's not a dream; the pain in my joints from those ropes, and the feeling of kicking that creature, and this fetid smell...It's all real. But it isn't...it isn't supposed to be like this. Things like that aren't supposed to be possible.

That pale woman was a monster. Whether because she was distracted by the bloody events of before or because she didn't know what he was saying, the other girl didn't respond to Kenji's question at all.

There was no other reason, in Kenji's mind, to speak to the others right now. They were all in the same place he was--confused and more than a little scared. All that was left for them was to follow this pale, fanged, blood stained woman. Kenji did so at a distance, keeping close to the walls for a reason he wasn't quite sure of. Maybe just a psychological placebo, a foundation of sorts that could support his shaking legs.

And finally he got some information about this place.

If Maria or the old man were paying any attention to their "new recruits," they might notice that Kenji stood back from the others, at a place where he could see all of them. His eyes and ears were attentive, but his gaze kept flickering here and there, especially when either of them moved or pointed at something during their lecture. When the old man brought out weapons and it was Kenji's turn to take his pick, he looked over several of them, testing their edges with his thumb, or checking their balance and weight by picking them up and turning them over in his hands.

Hunters hunt "beasts," eh? Obviously not the normal kind. Rather than boars or wolves, something...monstrous. Some of these weapons seem to be made from the remains of such creatures.

These guns are far from modern. These types take too long to reload, are too finicky with their accuracy, and probably jam easily. Overall less reliable than a blade, their only saving grace being ease of use and explosive power in a small package.

Hm. A knife is always good as a backup, I'll go ahead and have that. Why does it make my stomach hurt...?

And this...

Kenji hefted the spear, noting its cross blades, and stepped back from the group. He had found the weapons he was comfortable with for now. He gave the spear a practice spin, and found that while he had enough dexterity and strength to manipulate the weapon fairly easily, he didn't have any muscle memory or reflexes related to the use of it.

I must not have been a martial artist or any kind of fighter when I was...alive. If that spiel about the afterlife was true. But the Chinese had a saying, I believe, that went something along the lines of "the spear is the king of all weapons." Historically I'm almost certain it was the most used weapon of infantry precisely because it was simple to learn, yet efficient and deadly.

These two side blades will stop a creature from simply pushing its way up the shaft of the spear to get at me, once I've impaled it. Hopefully. With any luck, I'll be able to stab and kill something from outside its arm's reach...then again, if these monsters are giant-sized, no humanly-usable spear might be long enough.

Kenji grimaced. Here he was talking about killing monsters as if he were playing a game of some sort, rather than living a wretched nightmare. Was this place affecting his sanity, as well as his memory? Maybe that was easier for him to believe than the truth. Maybe it was easier to just make excuses, rather than acknowledge the fact...

Rather than acknowledge the fact...

I killed that man.

I killed that old blind man.

I was ready to beat him, while he lay dying, if it would have gotten me more information.

I'm honestly considering going out and killing some kind of creature, becoming some kind of monster hunter, because I've been told it might get me my memories back.

Kenji barely had time to run behind one of the pillars lining the grand chambers of the church, before the sound of heaving and retching could be heard.

What the hell have I done? Where the fuck am I!? I want to go home, but I don't even know where it is! I don't like this! I HATE this!

He kept throwing up until there was nothing in his stomach, and even then he heaved and coughed. His throat felt like it was on fire, and hot, salty tears ran down his face. He let it all out, all his self disgust, all his fear, all his despair...He poured it all out until he was completely empty inside, and with that emptiness, there came a kind of clarity.

"Think, Kenji. You don't know shit about what happened...before. But you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, in your heart, that you're a thinker." He thought aloud. "So put your brain to work, and let's make sense of this bullshit."

I, Nakamura Kenji, have entered the World of Wasted Dreams, and a town called Iredele, according to an old man and a pale woman. According to the woman, this is some form of afterlife--there may be a way, if I follow their orders, to recover my memories, maybe even my life. Both of them seem to follow this church of a being called the Absolute, and are recruiting Hunters to fight monsters and beasts. Somehow, fighting these creatures plays into making donations to the church. I'm not sure if that means bringing back proof of a kill, or some kind of currency. I've been supplied weapons, and there are other new Hunters I can work with.

I do not know if I can trust anyone, thus far, whether it be the people who arrived here with me or the two natives of this world.

I still need more info. I have weapons to defend myself with, and though the pale woman has displayed supernatural strength and speed, she doesn't seem hostile to us as long as we keep to ourselves. Right now it looks like the old man has actually left, heading...downstairs? To what, a basement or cellar? The pale woman is still near the altar. Donny's talking to her. Other than him, one other guy, and a woman who didn't respond when I spoke to her, no one has taken any notice of me. I can probably leave without any problems.

If this Iredele is a real town, there have to be other people living here. I can cross reference what I have so far with whatever they can provide in terms of information.

So, that will be my first course of action: Exit the church, and speak to the townspeople.

Wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his uniform--his own clothes would probably work for now, he didn't really think he needed to take any from the pile--Kenji stepped away from the pillar and headed towards the entrance of the church, walking much more steadily. The butt of his spear tapped the cobblestones like a walking stick, and the knife in his pocket was a reassuring weight.

He took his first steps into the World of Wasted Dreams proper, and went out into the town of Iredele...

[harinezumikouken]

Paul Delacroix - Just go out and kill a few beasts. It's for your own good.

As the group moved on, something within Mister Delacroix demanded that he linger behind. Staring down at the gurgling and dying corpse-to-be of one of the hooded strangers, it took him a moment to properly process what he was seeing. With rapt curiosity, the young man tilted his head slightly as he stood and watched the cloaked man choke on his own fluids and die his slow horrible death. The rational part of his mind told him that what he was seeing was wrong. It should've shocked him. It should've disgusted him. He should be trying to save the man, right? A small part of him told himself that he should be reacting in a completely different way than how he was currently handling the situation. But, for some reason Paul was indifferent to the plight of the suffocating fool.

"I've seen this before. In my past, I feel that I've witnessed death before. In a different time and a different place. Hmm. How interesting." he thought to himself.

Squatting down, Paul leaned in closer to examine the man but did not overstep his boundaries and inwardly refused to touch the asphyxiating future cadaver. Looking up at the beautiful pale woman, he filed away the bit of information that she was not one to be trifled with. What woman -or creature- had such strength and speed to rip the tongue from a person's mouth without anyone's notice? He would have to be sure not to anger her and get on her bad side. As he stood and casually followed after the departing group, Mister Delacroix looked over his shoulder as the body of the tongueless stranger violently shook out his final death throes. He would have to remember to say a little prayer later.

At the Chapel

Paul blinked when the fair lady mentioned to them all that they had all passed on. Allegedly, they had all died. Looking at his hands, he flexed his fingers. Rigor mortis hadn't set in, his digits moved fluidly and freely. Placing his index and middle finger against where his carotid artery would be on his neck, he felt what he thought to be his pulse. He didn't exactly feel cold either. So he wasn't a zombie, he felt very much normal and alive. Shrugging his shoulders, he figured that if he were truly dead he probably wouldn't be able to really tell anyways. Paul was in an odd state of just simple acceptance. Everything that was transpiring he was absorbing and taking in to be factual and true, taking them for their face value and choosing not to delve too deeply into questioning everything. This was the way things are going to be now. This is the natural order. It was a dangerous state of mind to be in, for sure. But, at the moment he didn't quite care. Instead, he was more interested in how the Lady Maria used a word of germanic origin and then uttered a phrase in Latin.

"Hmm, does she have an understanding of multiple languages or is it some arcane gift of tongues. What did she say?...It would roughly translate into a 'gift for...Absolute'? She mentioned a being called The Absolute earlier, it must be this world's deity of some sort." Paul silently pondered to himself. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he eyed the symbol of the so-called 'Absolute.'

No, he didn't wonder how he had died.
Nor did he wonder why he ended up here and with such an interesting start.
Then again, how does one imagine the start of one's eternity in either Hell or Heaven?
He still couldn't say, even as he stood.
He was simply curious as to Lady Maria's knowledge of languages.

His eyes lowered from the symbol when a being Paul could only describe as a moving mass of rags and cloth, a tangible and corporeal phantom or specter. The entity screamed 'ancient, eldritch knowledge' to him. But even still, Paul couldn't be moved to pay close attention. Only really focusing on what he deemed to be the important parts. He was absolutely not going to kneel and pray to this 'Church of Absolute', and he wasn't quite pleased about somehow being forced into this dark, abysmal world. Just to be told that he was now a supposed 'Hunter' and that he was to be shoehorned into slaying these beastly creatures he has yet to lay eyes on. Half of him accepted the flow of events, the other half refused and silently retaliated against his current situation in small ways. He would play along for the most part, but not completely. Not yet. Though, the prospect of regaining the memories of his previous life and who he was indeed tempted him.

When the mobile bundle of dirty laundry left and returned bearing gifts, Paul cocked an eyebrow and came up to the laid out assortment when his turn had come. Hands still in his pocket, his eyes almost lazily scanned over the pile of random equipment and nothing really caught his attention. He was just about to turn and walk away, almost quietly declining any gift that a talking amalgamation of discarded articles of clothing could offer him when he stopped. At just the last second in the corners of his vision he saw something that alluringly beckoned to him. Softly and gently calling out to him in the sweetest of voice. Turning back round, he walked to one side of the pile and saw a cane with a rosary and necklace draped over it. Laying next to it was an ornate and beautiful handgun. Kneeling on one knee, Paul removed a hand from its pocket and reached out to grasp at the draped rosary and necklace. Something tugged at a memory within the inner depths of his mind.

"These...These belong to me. These are mine."
Squinting, Paul gingerly slipped the necklace over his head and around his neck.
Tucking the necklace into his shirt, he then wrapped the rosary around his left wrist.
Taking the cane in his left hand and firearm in his right, he looked at them both as he stood.

In an almost loving fashion, he warmly rubbed on the handle of the cane. It felt comfortable in his hands. It felt familiar. Leaning slightly against it, he couldn't help but smile a little. Something in the cane clicked and Paul nearly stumbled when the handle turned in place. Regaining his posture, he noticed that the handle seemed to come loose from the body of the cane. Frowning, he pulled at the cane and his eyes gleamed in awe as he stared at the long, thin blade that was revealed.

"Huh. Well, this is new. But somehow....it still feels right."

Admiring the blade for a moment, Paul's smile grew a little bigger as he sheathed it and discovered that he could lock the cane sword back in place. Slightly leaning on his returned cane, Paul looked over the firearm he had in hand and scoffed. It wasn't hard to tell why he had made such a mocking noise at the pistol. Clearly written over his face, it was easy to tell that Mister Delacroix recognized the archaic origin of the gun. In that same expression, something was said that Mister Delacroix could possibly improve upon its design himself.

"No ammunition, it seems. I'll probably have to acquire a kit of some sort for it. I wonder what this world's form of currency is. Iredele, right?"

Pointing the barrel of the gun downward, Paul resigned it to temporarily rest in between the waist of his trousers and his belt. He'd get a proper holster for it at a later time. For now, he had an intense desire to learn a little more of this world and explore it. Once he had a sufficient and basic working knowledge of this Iredele, he intended to get settled as soon as possible. Discover how to acquire money. Use said monies to secure lodging, food, and clothing. Once the basic needs are fulfilled and satisfied, he'd like to see more of these 'beasts' that he was supposed to be hunting. Paul would become a working cog of this machine for the time being, he would accept the way things are. It made things easier to cope with, after all. Turning to face the Lady Maria, he walked with his cane toward her intent on asking her a few simple questions. But, another gentleman had beaten him to the punch. He recognized the man to be 'Donny', the man who helped release him. Politely waiting his turn to speak, Paul peered over his shoulder to see a young man with a spear exit the chapel. Someone was a bit hasty, but had a similar idea to his. He wondered if the two of them would bump into each other later.

[Spriggs27]

Before anyone could act upon Sinthe telling the others that they should Kill the guy, that just suddenly went berserk and tried to attack the one person that knew about the place they were. But before they could actually kill the guy, the pale woman did it herself, she managed to rip his tongue out, Sinthe watched as Donny just let the body fall, the white hared man kept himself from being squirted on by blood and covered his face with his hand to avoid being hit by the red liquid." Well, I guess we didn't need to do anything after all, I respect a woman who can handle herself." Sinthe told the pale woman in a stoic tone with a straight face.

Sinthe crossed his arms and leaned his back on a wall, while the woman told them that they were dead, Sinthe handled the situation lightly, he didn't see it as a thing that seemed to serious, he didn't say anything and kept himself calm in the moment and watched the others react to the news. Sinthe's eyes locked onto the old man Rotten bone he clearly remember someone like him before doing something similar to what he's doing now, giving the others weapons and handing them off to the others, Sinthe felt like a couple things were missing from this, Sinthe remember the woman telling them that they might not have their memories, or completely lost them, he could only remember blank faces really and couldn't put everything together really.

When Donny went on about using a weird weapon Sinthe sighed and rubbed the side of his head." Only if this one could've just been an empty memory, I can tell he's gonna be annoying after a while." Sinthe told himself, after listening to Donny and watching him talk to Maria, suddenly he moved from holding up the wall by leaning on it to going to Maria's side." I'll ask an easy question for you, can we go now ?" Sinthe asked the woman, he felt his answer would be answered last but hell he wanted to ask it anyways, he didn't like standing around like this, he soon began grabbing the badge shaped like a fist hanging from gi belt and let it drop and hang from the belt.

[Lugubrious]

Highball stood apart, leaning on her rake-turned-cane, exuding an attitude remarkably light in the midst of a singularly repulsive world so indomitably dark. Compared to the others, she gave off the unmistakable air of not taking the overarching situation as seriously as it seemed to demand. In this manner, she spectated the choices the others made, less out of consideration for the individuals and more so that she might catch a glimpse of more fascinating weapons. The first man to step up and accept Rotting Bone's invitation, Donny, disappointed her with his choice of an unremarkable hatchet after some some promising rummaging. She looked on as he produced from the great pile even more rope, which he began securing to his person.

At the same time, a figure from the back of the group came forward to secure his own armaments. Highball quickly recognized this man to be the same who'd attempted conversation with her. He withdrew from the pile a long spear with a crossguard, and Highball nodded approvingly. The sight of the long weapon led her to believe, perhaps recalling from her previous life, that people didn't give spears the credit they deserved. Spears were practical, easy to work with, and most importantly, safe. A spear's range meant that it could damage creatures beyond the range of their own claws and fangs, keeping the wielder same from harm. Smart fellow. The bloke who chose a tiny axe will have to be inside some monster's mouth before he can hit with it, but spectacles here will strike from afar. He doesn't seem very loony, either. Maybe I'll tail him. Two hunters would be better than one. She moved on when Kenji ran off, though she cringed to hear the moist, thick sounds of vomiting from where he disappeared. Yuck. If this were real, I'd say the reality just dawned on him.

Meanwhile, others had moved forward. Highball spared an incredulous glance at Donny, who appeared to have selected a guitar for a secondary weapon, before her eyes landed on Paul. Skinny and plain of color, he seemed oddly aristocratic in his slow, measured movements, and his selection of a cane sword and a pistol only fomented that observation. When she witnessed his snakelike smile, however, she looked elsewhere. Very conspicuously, a huge man with whom Highball did not imagine herself resonating at all ignored the weapons, selecting only a badge to stick to his belt. Her top hat bobbed as she suppressed a condescending laugh; did this dolt really think himself man enough to kill beasts and beings beyond reckoning with his hammy mitts alone? This brute won't last an hour if this World of Waking Dreams is anything more deadly than a petting zoo...unless it operates on some sort of ludicrous cartoon magic, as some dreams do? Rolling her eyes, Highball shifted gears. Paul, Donny, and Sinthe crowded around the porcelain killer to bombard her with questions. Kenji, meanwhile, fled the building.

Deciding to go after him, Highball took two steps before looking back at the rest of the group. She observed a woman a few years older than she in a blue tunic, a blonde teenager who'd look more at home in a middle school than a nightmare, a swarthy man in brown with a feather in his hair, and a cloaked fellow with unkempt hair who seemed as much of a child as the blonde girl. None had made so much as a twitch or uttered so much as a peep since coming upstairs; they struck Highball as a rather dull lot, not as fit for survival as those who'd already chosen weapons. Well, we have our supporting characters to die within the first half hour. Pitiful, really. That feather-haired chap isn't half bad looking, and he's dressed almost as stylishly as me. Hopefully he'll live a while. With that, Highball dashed away, energetic and eager in her naivety to begin the hunt.

She followed in the footsteps of Kenji and exited the ruined chapel, trotting up beside him to give him a companionable nudge with her elbow. Surprisingly in sync with his walking pattern despite her shorter stride, the behatted woman joined the bespectacled spearman for his first steps into Iredele's gloom.

[KoL]

---

~In Hunting Beasts and Monsters~

---

Kenji and High would find, as they left the dusty chapel behind, that the reality before their eyes was more than most minds would be able to process. Lead colored clouds covered the sky, except for the few cracks through which filtered the ethereal azure of the twin moons which oversee the World of Wasted Dreams. The wind howled and things, unspeakable things, could be heard on the distant cliffs, the nearby fields and even... right besides them.

Iredele

BGM

Swish! A rat ran away, cowered by the hunters' appearance. That was the reality of the World of Wasted Dreams, of the town of Iredele and of their lives from now on. A reality were even the scuttling of a rat could mean a life threat, dare you not check it and behave with caution.

The town was silent, dead silent one might even say, perhaps a wake was being held somewhere and all sounds and activities had been drowned for fear of them disturbing the deceased's departure thereby, bringing yet another horror into this world. Most likely, however, was that this very town was a huge wake, which was much closer to the truth.

In the murky darkness, a few outlines denounced the presence of other points of interest. From the temple it was possible to make the shapes of: The Town Square whose only distinguishing feature aside from the mud was an old half-beaten well that certainly had seem better days in the past. The Town Hall with it's opulent decadence, crested by a bell tower probably meant to serve as a public broadcast for general uses. The former Constable Station which lays vacant and decrepit, the scrape of chains and creacking of the rusty bars still being heard up to this day. The Inn of Four Winds which has long ago been turned into Maria's private manor, as is noted by an engraved brass plaque (if they care to go and check). And lastly, the Winter Wolf Tavern the only solace in this depressive world, being it's many drinks and meager food for those who have the means to pay for it. To find what lay beyond this initial panorama they would have to go out and explore the shadows that shrouded Iredele.

• • •

"Nooo! Nooo, let me go! Please, don't take me!"

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the monotonous silence of the night, coming from somewhere down the main street. Sure, the people inside the temple would hear such a commotion as well, but Kenji had the advantage of already being outside the building, so he would arrive there faster, in case he decided to check.

~Maria~

---

"Oh my, isn't your lot an eager one?"

---

"Very well then, I'm yours for the time being, ask me whatever you want." Maria jested, crossing her legs casually and sighed, letting her bare fangs visible as she listened to the hunters who showered her with questions.

First it was Donny, who seemed to be the most eager of them all. Maria spared him a glance at the compliment, wondering again why such a person had to be wasted being born as man, before she finally answered him, in order. "Actually, you go all the contrary, you bring back the trophies of the slain quarry and sell them to old Rotting Bone, and then, you use the money for donations. It's a rip off, but if you want to live here, you'd better get used to it, otherwise you'll not even have what to eat, I fear. Don't worry for things such as the population around here, it fluctuates far too much to be a matter for us, though it generally stays on the low end of bare minimum. Do you want to change that, by any means? Go forth, most women there won't complain about being taken (even by force) as long as you're not a monster, because they know what could happen if you are." To this last statement Maria flashed her teeth to Donny, in a sort of provocative grin.

Nevertheless, she continued soon enough "As for their skills, I guess that you could count old Rotting Bone as the closest thing to a doctor this place will ever have. I tend to do most of the craft work for things that hunters normally need, simply because I enjoy the past-time, I'm also the owner of the only place you can stay, unless you want to salvage an abandoned house, or... force yourself on an occupied one." Again, Maria displayed her challenging grin, her teeth shone wickedly against the pale light that saturated the temple's innards. It was a habit of her, to provoke the hunters and test their morals, she didn't cared to the outcome too much, but Maria always enjoyed watch how the World of Wasted Dreams changed a person, for better or worse.

Anyway, for the final stretch of Donny's questions, Maria replied "Oh, my lovely Annabel, so sweet a flower, she really doesn't deserve such a wretched fool as a relative." Maria skirted around the matter as she talked about Annabel, in a wistful (Or was it lustful?) voice. "Anyway, you won't have trouble spotting her, my sweet Fleur-de-Lis doesn't look nothing like your typical townsfolk. You won't be finding her, she finds you. Your best bet is carry on with your 'lives' as normal and wait until Annabel wants to make herself known, I say that from personal experience."

• • •

As Maria finished with Donny's questions, came both Paul and Sinthe, one of them displaying at least some respect and the other as gruff as his looks made him appear to be "You are free to do whatever you wish, as long as you mind the consequences. The Wasted Dream isn't a very forgiving mother to careless children. As for you, gentleman, and... the rest of you who are still a bit shocked, I presume." Maria ran a gaze over the other hunters, not caring to account for Highball and Kenji's disappearance. If they wished to speed up their demise doing something stupid, so be it. Who knows, if they the could even manage to surprise Maria with their tricks?

"You can leave your questions for later now," Maria grinned as the cry for help echoed within the temple, raising up from the old pew and moving to dramatically push the heavy iron-framed doors of the temple in a dramatic (and easy) way. "Is the time for you to take your first glance at what you'll be dealing with for the rest of your days..."

Without gazing backwards, Maria shifted Pandora's weight to a better position and walked distressed call, wondering what sort of ill luck had befallen the poor soul who owned such a desperate voice.

---

@Zeroth@ClocktowerEchos@Lugubrious@Lucius Cypher@Savo@BlueAjah@Demarcus@harinezumikouken@TheWindel

[Lucius Cypher]

"Yeah, that does sound like a rip. Death and taxes, am I right?" Donny joked as Maria explained the situation to him. Basically, they go to Rotting Bones (Donny guessed that was the name of the old man in rags who just left) for currency, which they should donate to the church. Donny didn't intend to do so until absolutely necessary, but he kept that thought to himself. As for the other villagers, only Rotting Bones passed as a doctor, and Donny didn't trust a doctor named Rotting Bones. Maria was the village craftsman, making Donny quite excited. "Well, I'm pretty handy myself. Maybe once we get situated, you and I could head to your workshop, show off each other's techniques." Of course Donny was speaking out of his ass, since he has no idea what his craft skills are like. Hopefully he could improvise well enough to impress. As for Annabel, Maria was vague. The best she described her as "not like the townsfolk" and considering that Donny doesn't know what they look like, it wasn't helpful at all. At least he was told that she'd be at the local tavern, so that narrows down to a location. "I'm sure that if she's anything like you, she'd be more radiant than the stars at night."

All the while Donny didn't really comment on Maria's implication of what he could do to women. He would not lie to himself: Donny was kinda horny. But he had his morals, and dream or not, he wasn't just going to force his way onto others because he can. Flirt and shower with gifts and compliments? He'd do that unabashedly. Express his desires? He wasn't one to hold his feelings back. But force someone to love him? That wasn't his way. Regardless of who he was before he died, Donny was determined to think that he is a noble person right now.

Speaking of death, a scream broke out into the night. The sound of a someone, possibly a woman, begging for help. Donny noticed a few from before were gone, and he feared the worse. That they too feel for the sick affliction like that one taken by the shadows. "Someone needs our help." Donny said to himself. Grabbing his axe out from it's sheath, Donny ran out of the church after Maria opened it's doors. Immediately he saw the depressing scenery around him. The World of Waking Dreams may not be made of complete darkness, but it was bleak and certainly the realm of nightmares. It was a lifeless place were death hung in the air, the air taste rotten as if time itself was eroding away at it's very being. The scent of corpses were light on the wind, while the stench of blood and feces still fresh from the church. The very essence of this place felt... Crushing. As if Donny was already in the bowels of a beast who has eaten him whole. And the sound... He could still hear the screaming.

So Donny rushed forward. Instead of taking the roads, he used his axe to assist him as he begun to climb the rooftops. His first instincts were to take the high ground. Donny ran across the town square with great speed. He found the climb onto the first roof (Unknowingly to Donny, this was the Inn of the Four Winds) to be quite easy, his axe burying into the side of the wall with ease. When he reached to the top of the roof he continued to run, making effortless leaps across the gaps. While he likely won't be the first to arrive to the scene due to the road he traveled, he hoped that by taking this route he'd be in a good position to save whoever called out for help.

[Zeroth]

Kenji nearly jumped out of his skin when the woman he'd attempted to speak to before nudged him, her steps falling in line with his own. After turning a particularly sharp glare on her, he relaxed...at least until the rat scurried out from practically under his foot. As he bristled he gave a half hearted kick at the creature, then watched it scramble into the darkness. He flexed his fingers on the haft of his spear before he looked back at the woman.

@Lugubrious"I'll try English--or whatever this language is we all seem capable of using--this time." he began, before turning his attention back to the town. As his eyes roamed the silhouettes of each building, he kept his mouth moving to distract his mind (was that a freaking corpse hanging crucified from that sign pole!?). "My name's Nakamura Kenji, surname-first. May I ask your own?"

As the woman answered, Kenji would nod absentmindedly--he was listening, and made sure to note what she said, but was also concerned with the look of the town.

Ghost town, maybe literally. That building with the most light and sound seems to be a bar of some kind--a good place to find crowds of people who might have loose tongues. Also a good place to get dragged into a drunk brawl, so I'd best be sure this girl's not fast to fight like Muscles McSteroids back there. I wonder--

A scream rent the chill air, and Kenji's first response was to raise his spear and take a half step back, lining himself up sideways to present as small a target as possible.

Straight ahead, main street. Take them? Would beasts and monsters "take," in the fashion of kidnapping?

A figure charged past him and the woman, and Kenji recognized Donny as he began to haul himself up the side of a wall.

Good thinking, but too obvious. Leaping from the rooftops will make his shadowed form stand out against the background of the moonlight.

He looked at Highball, and jerked his head towards a side route between the buildings.

"I'll take left, you take right, if you plan on helping. Instead of running straight down the thoroughfare, let's take the side alleys and try to get an eye on this thing before we actually charge into it. If you have to, let Mr. Chivalry up there be our bait."

So saying he took the roundabout roads through the shadows, keeping close to the walls and jogging along in a half crouch, spear held ready. He wanted to help whoever it was doing the screaming--he wasn't heartless--but he wasn't going to make any stupid, heroic, self sacrificial moves if he didn't have to. Honestly, what made this most worthwhile was the fact that, if he played his cards right, he could watch just what kind of battle might play out between this beast and whoever came to slay it, and gather some valuable data.

He grimaced with self-disgust.

[Lugubrious]

Walking out into the murky atmosphere of Iredele, even from the comparatively safe and quiet confines of the defunct chapel, hit Highball like a cold front. Before her stretched a derelict street, as much grass and mud as chipped, nonsensically-laid cobblestone. On either side loomed buildings like funeral attendees, grim and tall. Were an artist to toil at a painting of this scene for months, he would need only trace quantities of brown to liven up a palate irrefutably gray and lifeless. No squalid shopfront or dingy doorway belied the slightest warmth or invitation. Despite the disturbing emptiness that plagued these streets, the air exhibited an uncanny thickness, a wafting soup able to fill the mouth if only it weren't so vile. Truly, Highball had trouble picturing a state in which this sorrow town would ever have played host to civilization. Meters above the street dangled the putrid carcass of a human, bathing the road with its abominable odor.

From beneath Kenji's heel a rat bolted for safety, the pitter of its tiny claws across muck and rock the only stirrings in the street's dead air. For all of a moment Highball flinched, before tilting her head and smirking at her companion's unease and the subsequent lackluster foot he threw the pathetic creature's way. After a moment, though, he turned his eyes on her. When he gathered himself to speak again, he issued forth words that Highball understood. “Ah,” she replied to his resolution to use English, in the manner of one enjoying a pleasant surprise. Ultimately, it made little difference to her. Guess I made the right choice. Kenji's next vocalization, unfortunately, necessitated a response. “Highball.” The response came curtly and brusquely, indicative of no further interest in small talk. By the looks of it, however, Kenji shared her disinterest; the slight bobbing of his head seemed semi-conscious at best.

Highball hopped backward the instant the ghastly scream passed her ears, with her own safety her immediate concern. Her companion did the same, more or less, and the two wasted no time in scanning their surroundings for any clues as to the dreadful noise's source. Before they came to a proper conclusion about what course of action to take, a man ran past. Highball eyed the charging fellow dubiously, determining it to be Donny, who by now had solidified himself in her mind at least as the action-oriented, IQ-questionable type sure to get himself killed in the first half hour to make sure she knew how deadly some monster was. No doubt envisioning himself the action hero, Donny made a beeline for a building and started clambering his way up it, using his axe as the piton in the damp, deteriorated wood. It's a marvel some walls or a roof don't collapse under the weight of his idiocy. Even if I am excited about this place, not even I ran in alone. The Ravenclaw served as a grim reminder that gargantuan birds resided in this nightmare, and Highball guessed a rooftop target would be a sitting duck.

She glanced back at Kenji, noting his gesticulation. While gallantry in a dream would get her nowhere, she imagined playing the hero might be fun, and decided to at least take a look at the problem. Kenji's plan, however, left her less than impressed. Alleys...where it's harder to see things coming, where attack can come from any angle, and where there's less room to dodge and swing weapons. Perhaps not the brightest plan of attack. She did like his plan to use Donny as bait, though that idea needed amending as well. Great! Donny is first bait, and you're second. No way am I waking up from this before I've had a good time. Tapping the side of her head twice with her cane, she shook her head, refusing to split off from him. When he took off down the left path, Highball followed close, vigilantly watching their backs for any sign of surprise attack. Her imagination raced to anticipate what fantastical beastie might lay ahead.

[Spriggs27]

Sinthe was outside when he knew he could leave but right at the threshold of the large temple, he stopped, not out of fear, not from nervousness, or feeling under equipped, or even cold from the wind that blew past him. What stopped him was the familiar feeling that he gotten looking at the small village, seeing it and it's vacant streets he felt a certain way, he couldn't describe it, but part of him wanted to burn the village to the ground, the utter feeling of hopelessness was so thick in the air that if Sinthe actually carried a weapon on him he could probably cut the hopelessness with a knife or smash it with a club, Sinthe looked at the streets with judging eye, everything looked more than derelict, it looked like everything looked like it was abandoned.

Sinthe wouldn't be surprised if the village was named " Abandon all hope " The white haired man wandered around the small village and just thought about walking around killing everyone, or just the villagers, just so they don't have to be hopeless, but he figured that if he did it would take too much time and would be a waste of energy, and if he did they wouldn't have anything of worth for him to take." This place it's like a sick dream you get when you come down with a bad illness." he said to him self, he watched the others start going around the small village and stuck on his own, but something brought him back to the temple where he awoke, he stood outside leaning on the walls of the temple by himself.

When he heard the screams, flash backs filled his mind of him fighting along side someone with a sword, a young man, they were surrounded and were trying to save someone, Sinthe didn't bother to help this time around he simply began walking towards the scream, while he was walking to the commotion the pale doll like woman from before joined him and gave her a quick glance with his glowing green eyes." So going to try and save who ever it is that's in trouble ? Or are you just gonna watch to see what happens and see how everyone new reacts ?" Sinthe asked the woman with a stoic expression on his face, the white haired man soon turned back forwards to face ahead of them.