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9 yrs ago
I started Ouran today....

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Miss Creme
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Location: Lunar Ballroom
Skills: N/A
Hit Points: 3
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Listening to the lord of the manor speak, Creme's hands drifted up towards her mask .That was exactly the type of authorization she was waiting for. She felt a lot safer going mask-less, especially given that whoever was blackmailing them seemed to not be the lord. Her hands pulled it away from her face, making her appearance apparent for the world to see. She slipped the mask into the purse on her person, and closed it tight. This situation did, however, open the fairly disconcerting question. If Lord Bardolf wasn't responsible for them being here, who was? The question lingered on her mind like a lily pad atop a murky pond.

She assumed, however, that the line of demarcation between the early arrivals and other guests that now would never arrive. She thought it a healthy assumption that they were all being blackmailed. This all seemed to be an odd series of events, but no matter what circumstances had led her here, it seemed she would be here for awhile. Standing up, she decided now might be the time to stretch her legs, and further her knowledge of the place she'd be stuck in. She wanted to maybe see if anybody else wanted to take a look around, but she still didn't want to get close to that loud fellow, so she watched the others in the room, planning to follow if anybody left.


Bartholomew Rosecliff


Location: Near Water
Skills:N/A



Bart's lips pursed for a moment, disappointed to see that he might be wrong. She did, however, mention that she didn't know why they had come here. Given that, he still had faith that his might be correct, but tucked that suspicion away until he could gather more information. He followed after Libby, and cringed a bit at her story. He'd heard of tar and feathering before, but he'd never though he'd meet somebody that had actually gone through it. He supposed nobody should ever be surprised by the depths of human depravity. As he walked he nodded along quietly, his face a bit paler than it was before.

"He sure sounds it." He agreed with Lib. These people weren't malicious, he was sure of that now. He didn't know if their goals were at all aligned, but he was sure that, whatever they were trying to do, it wasn't out of any malice. "Well, while we're walking," He said, and looked at the sun down, "Is that normal around you guys? I'll admit, it's a bit disconcerting." He asked, gesturing to the sky. He had come to understand that time was firmly in control of Giosue, so if not, he would assume that he was back, and had somehow done this. If it was, that meant that they must have some serious firepower on their side, which would be good to know.
Arthur Stanford






Arthur nodded along with Desdemona. He didn't trust that this would be any different from moving to just another prison. That being said, there was some merit in that Hedge was currently leading them away from danger. He still wasn't convinced about this whole "demigod" business though. As shaky as his current relationship was with his parents, they still were his parents. He was almost sure of that. Granted, he didn't know how demigods were made, perhaps it was somehow possible for both his parents to be his, and still have some godliness. He shook his head, realizing he was going down a train of thought where he accepted that he was part god.

Curious though, he allowed himself a question. "If we were to believe you." He started, putting stress on his opening if, "Who would our parents be? Is Jesus like, our great uncle?" He normally wouldn't stick a "like" in the middle of a sentence like that, but right now, he was far from operating at a hundred percent. Between processing this new information, and running for his life, he was just about at his wit's end. If he got out of this alive, his parents could expect a phone call very soon.
Miss Creme
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Location: Lunar Ballroom
Skills: N/A
Hit Points: 3
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As Maestro walked away from her without providing her an answer, she shrugged dejectedly. The room was currently exploding around her, and she could understand why. She didn't want to be stuck here for weeks. She had her own obligations, and couldn't imagine her absence would be met with understanding. She didn't have anyway to get out of here safely though, not in this kind of weather. Exhaling, she tried to get herself to accept the futility of the situation, but it still frustrated her. Not following after Maestro, she sat in her chair, visibly upset, though she was working on containing that.

Soon, a more immediately worrisome event started to unfold, as people began removing their masks. She shook her head at this, keeping the piece of headgear firmly on her face. She knew that now was not a time for impulsive behavior, even if they were no longer in need of these masks, she'd keep it on until somebody of authority told her to remove it. It just wasn't her way to make this kind of choice on her own, and her instincts told her to keep it on in the first place. For now, she stayed seated, rather afraid of the angry man in the room who started this whole mask removal business.


Bartholomew Rosecliff


Location: Near Water
Skills:N/A



Bartholomew winced as Lib's voice rose to a shout at the girls, but gave a laugh afterwards. That was interesting though, since Louisiana wasn't too far east, as far as the US was concerned. He guessed that meant they primarily were out near the Pacific, maybe as far as California. That information probably wasn't too useful on its own, but he'd make note of it if it came up later. As a matter of principle, he averted his eyes as Libby stripped to her undergarments, not feeling comfortable watching the woman clean herself. He looked at Faith, as if to see if she had any more questions, when an idea struck him.

Doing some considering for a moment, he decided to ask, "One more thing, if it's alright. Shot in the dark, did you guys know Peter while he was alive?" He figured now would be a fine time to test his hypothesis, and he didn't feel like his question was intrusive or anything. If Peter spent time with these people, and they cared enough to come all the way here after coming from some place far away, that would explain pretty much everything to him. All he could do was hope Lib would be honest with him, as he waited for a response. He hoped he was right, not just for the illumination it'd provide, but for the fact that it would feel good to get a win on this. As the sun lowered at a quickened pace through the sky, he gave am unsure look at Faith, thinking they should maybe regroup in light of this new development. "Should we head back?" He asked.
Arthur Stanford






Arthur's eyes widened a bit at the term "half blood". It sounded almost like a slur one would hear in the back country. He opened his mouth for a moment, about to rebuff the very notion at the face of it, but then again, things were rather wild at the moment. That wasn't enough to make him change religions with a few words, but hey, maybe now wasn't the time to be rejecting such ideas out off hand. Now wasn't the time though, now was the time to focus on staying alive, and not getting eaten. That was far too gruesome of a death for him, and he would do everything he could to prevent it from happening.

In that vein, the rest of what Hedge was saying made a good deal of sense. He was offering them a way to stay alive, and that made him the most important thing to Arthur in the world right now. Stuck close, and shut up, and hopefully he'd come out with his head still attached to his shoulders. He quietly nodded his head, ready to follow any and all orders laid out to him to the best of his abilities. Even if Coach Hedge was somehow like these beasts, he was at least leading them away, and seemed to be much more friendly.He felt like he could trust him, for now at least.
Miss Creme
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Location: Lunar Ballroom
Skills: N/A
Hit Points: 3
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Creme tilted her head, smiling back at Maestro, "Well, if you would be so kind, would you mind telling me why I'm here?" She asked sweetly. He seemed to know what the reasoning behind her appearance here tonight was, which was odd. She felt like that might have some kind of implication about whatever her role was to be, but she didn't have any idea what that might be. They were, apparently, special in some way, which was new for her. She never really felt like she mattered before, and this was as close to that as she'd gotten in a while. It was exciting, she considered, for her presence to have some more weight than normal.

She turned her head as the lord of the manor entered the ballroom, and made his announcement. The bridge had been blown? That was concerning for sure. She didn't recall the weather being quite so horrible as to cause that, which made her think that something nefarious may be afoot. A look of worry crossed her face, hoping that the fortifications of the manor would stay them from any dangers that might wish them harm. Rocking back and forth in her chair a touch, she turned back to Maestro, the brief flash of excitement cleanly wiped from her psyche in light of this news.


Bartholomew Rosecliff


Location: Near Water
Skills:N/A


Bart noted mentally how Libby spoke instead of the washing women. Apparently, they either were unwilling to speak, or were under some kind of direction not to. He took a look at Faith, and said, "We don't mind going with you, I don't think. Nice to meet you Lib." He was glad these people ere civil, to the point of being downright friendly. He then launched into a question, "So, you guys have to travel far to get here?" He figured that was indirect enough to the point that they might get some semblance of an answer to one of his biggest outstanding questions; How on Earth did these people actually get the the camp in the first place?

He was no expert in the time loop by any means, but he assumed it afforded them some measure of protection from visitors. His best guess was they had some sort of temporal abilities akin to the Watch's. He'd hold for Faith if she had any other questions she wanted to ask, since she decided to approach these people in the first place. He knew it wouldn't be wise to go for a question as direct as why they were here. While that might be reasonable in other circumstances, they'd already given them a clock on getting an answer to that question, and trying to push ahead of it would surely only be perceived as rude, and put them on poor terms.
Arthur Stanford






To say that this was by far the least expected outcome would be the understatement of the millennium. He took a shaky step backwards, and didn't have anything to say as the students morphed into one eyed monsters the likes of which he assumed were fundamentally impossible. He placed a hand over his mouth, concerned for a moment that he may be driven to throw up in revulsion. One thought racked his consciousness, and that was survive. He barely could even process that Hedge was somehow protecting them against these things, only that he knew that staying close to him was the best way to not quickly become a corpse.

Ash had apparently opted for insanity, and decided to yell at the beasts. "Leave them alone, we need to get out of here." He said, his voice soft and his voice cracking a bit. Arthur wasn't a coward, but he was a pragmatist, and yelling at the beasts would serve him no purpose. He knew that he couldn't scare something like this, so it wasn't even worth trying. The mark of a true strategists is knowing when to to retreat, and by the gods if this wasn't the time. He got closer to hedge, ready to follow him wherever he wanted to take them.
Miss Creme
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Location: Lunar Ballroom
Skills: N/A
Hit Points: 3
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She nodded, noting that his name, in all probability, was not actually Maestro. That was interesting, so perhaps all guests were given some kind of nickname. If that was the case, she had to wonder about what was special about this group of early arrivals. She smiled back at the man though, "Oh, I didn't realize you knew her, she seems nice." While the woman had left shortly after speaking with Creme, it wasn't in her nature to harbor any kind of ill thoughts of a person for long. Though, with the way the night was going, she considered that that might be challenged.

She thought for a moment about how to articulate a response to the mans question, "Well, it's some kind of Gala isn't it?" Surely, she didn't know much of what tonight actually had in store, but that was the best she could assume. Guests and food and entertainers, all those things sounded like that kind of event to her. She hoped the man would correct her if she was wrong, he seemed to be a nice enough person, so she assumed he would. She was about to ask about what kind of performances they did, but she opted to hold her tongue, hoping to illicit some kind of response about her presumption.
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