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How are you doing, @Bartimaeus? I presume you're next in the Adelicia-scene.
As if on queue, Marcus' final word was punctuated by the muffled sound of a door slamming somewhere beyond the door blocking their path, followed by the voices of several men, their words mostly unintelligible but some sounding angry, and all of it bizarrely accompanied by the gentle, steady sound of a small bell being rhythmically jostled; a sound any Yharnamite would naturally associate with afflicted church servants.
The voices grew louder and closer – at least five different voices could be identified – and within seconds a loud noise of shattering glass could be heard, followed by the sound of something wooden being smashed and small pieces of metal, like cutlery, clattering on a wooden surface. Every sound in the next room seemed overtly violent and aggressive, and judging by the noise, someone was in the process of destroying anything breakable in there.
“...teach the damn church!” a man growled just before the sound of something particularly big and heavy crashed into the ground.
“...Harold, and his plague-ridden...”
“...some blood somewhere...”

The voices were getting closer to the door as the destruction continued unabated, but throughout it all the ringing of the solitary bell continued calmly, getting steadily closer to the door and the room with the Hunters. When it was almost there they could actually hear footfalls: two sets of them, one somewhat normal-sounding, the other unusually heavy and producing little clicking noises with each step as the feet hit the floor. There was also loud, grunting breathing. The bell fell silent.
The door handle rattled a little, wiggling up and down several times as if someone was trying to open the door.
“Open door,” someone demanded from right on the other side of the door, their voice hoarse and dry, and it sounded as though the speaker had difficulty speaking. The quick, grunting breath did not pause on the words. “Open door.”
Hmm... Interesting.

Eh, with the way the post ended it'll feel really unnatural if I were to make things happen just now, before Marcus has a chance to react. Would you like to post first, Habibi?
Just for explanation's sake, there was a point to me deciding to start you off in isolation like that... namely that I expected there to be a longer period of adjustment for the characters with all the weird things going on and strange people being around. Somehow it didn't even occur to me that neither Marcus nor Joseph might be interested in knowing who they were, what the Messengers are or what is up with all the sleeping people in the room with them. I'll remedy that and give them something more concrete to deal with.

Are you still working on your post, King Cosmos?
Hmm. I see... I suppose I'll accelerate events a little faster than I'd planned to in the clinic-scene, just to make sure you two have something to do besides talking, figuring out the Messengers and breaking down the door. Will move things forward after your or Habibi's post, depending on the contents of the post (and what Habibi thinks about it).
Who's next in the clinic scene? @Habibi359? @King Cosmos?

I have to say, personally I feel a lot more enthusiastic about this RP than I expected I would. I keep wanting to go a little further with my posts or post more often, even if I know I shouldn't, just because I'm so eager to write for this. Not that my eagerness should dictate your lives or pace of posting, I just want you to know that I'm genuinely excited about the ideas I have in store for this RP.
The door was locked, of course, preventing Marcus from opening it however much he tried. Its thick wooden frame was heavy and strong, and there was no keyhole on the inside; it had been locked from outside and would take effort to break through.
A single Messenger emerged from the floor in front of it, leaning its tiny body against the woodwork and hitting weakly, soundlessly and desperately with its little fists. It let out a small, pathetic whimper.
Well, yes and no. Yes, his experience would make him valuable (and probably a major factor in the church being willing to take him back), but you'd also have to wonder just how much experience actually counts for with Hunters. A lot of Hunters were also soldiers (like Victor and Moira), bandits or huntsmen before becoming Hunters, meaning that they aren't exactly new at fighting and killing, though they may be so at facing beasts, superhuman opponents and being superhuman themselves. I imagine Raine would be much more likely to identify weaknesses than most, though.
It's also worth noting that in Bloodborne, the deadliest of all Hunters (usually) ends up being the player character, besting even hundred-year veterans like Gehrman... and that the player character has been a Hunter for only one night. Sure, they might have died a lot learning those things, but they were able to keep at it no matter how much they died until they learned. Compared to Raine, who only has one life, that's a much more intense way of learning.
In other words, I wouldn't expect Moira (a former Paleblood Hunter) to be impressed.

Eastern Yharnam, relatively near the Hunter's clinic, bottom of the elevator

Victor shrugged and sighed. It was to be expected for Adelicia to be naive with regards to things like this – though for her to claim that the giant was anything like them was outstandingly stupid – but he was a bit disappointed that even a grizzled veteran and former murderer from the Harrow would opt for misplaced mercy. Still, Victor did not care too much either way, and they had places to be and probably wanted to get there as soon as possible, so he saw no point in discussing it. He did consider killing the giant anyway just to spite them, but figured that they – especially Adelicia – would probably get angry and make a fuss about it.
“Fine,” he drawled, quickly checking both of the others' eyes before turning to take the last couple of steps into the elevator. “Just remember this decision when we come back and find that the brute woke up and murdered some random Yharnamite walking by.” He gestured to the others to follow. “Last person in steps on the button. Let's go.”
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