OceanicVoid

BunniesOfDoom + OceanicVoid

Gotchu! Just got freed from assignments for the week (at least for now lol.) Have fun on your trip and stay safe! (＾◇＾）ノ

Edit: Welp, Ilian's gonna be in for a treat when he eventually gets back lol.

BunniesOfDoom + OceanicVoid

Thank you for your patience.

This segment is brought to you by looking at pictures of Victorian/Edwardian rooms for too long. It's not as long as I planned, I didn't want to draw it out unnecessarily and I also wanted to give you the option to kinda explore if you wanted? I think I've been playing too many RPG maker games because I have ideas about how to use the rooms in the house.

Edit: By the way, is there any particular direction you would like to steer towards? There are a couple ways I can think of building horror, but I want to know your thoughts/ideas too. I'm loosely trying to aim for gothic, but I'm unsure how effectively I can pull that off (still will try though.)

Also, I don't know if the latest hurricane is heading your way, but I hope you and your family are doing okay.

BunniesOfDoom + OceanicVoid

The door was made of a lighter wood than the makeshift lab’s with a slight reddish brown hue. Feathers were etched into the frame of the door, made to look as if they were falling and intertwining with the leaves floating down beside them. The top of the frame held two large birds, their sharp beaks crossed like the swords of guards, with talons loosely clutching what looked to be olive branches.

“Ah. Wrong door. That one is off limits I’m afraid.” he says, gaze lingering on the birds above for a moment before motioning for them to follow.

He guides them a little back down the hall to a different door, the wood matching the makeshift lab’s, complete with a faded grain. The mild wear and tear blending it slightly against the worn wallpaper of the rest of the hall. The knob ground against the base as it turned before finally dislodging with a few firm twists. The door needed only a little less convincing before it opened, the hinges creaking slightly. He sighs, muttering something about oil and replacements before stepping inside and holding the door open for them.

This room was smaller than the lab but roomy enough to comfortably host four to five guests.A fireplace occupied one part of the far wall and a set of windows occupied a divot in the wall in front of it. Beneath the sil was a round table covered by a white doily with two chairs, one of them moved out of place. Low backed armchairs were tucked in the corners of the room next to the door while a sofa with plush pillows lined the wall beside the fireplace. At the center of the room and above a large rug was a scattering of light chairs and small tables. On top of one of them was a box of matches and an oil lamp.

Ilian makes his way over to it, moving it to a more secure surface before lighting the wick, and placing the glass globe over the flame. It burns brightly, illuminating the room a bit better than the light pouring in from the hall. Dust covers the surface of most of the furniture save for the sofa along the wall and the table beneath the windows.

He turns back to them, gesturing vaguely towards the various seats in the room. “You are free to move about and make yourself at home, I will be back in a little while. Just please be careful. And do not touch the flame.”

The last thing he needed was for the house to go up in flames with them alongside it. Though he thinks the people in town would enjoy an additional ghost story. Not that they hadn’t already made more than enough tales about the property.

The matches on the table catch his eye and he pockets it without another moment’s thought. Pausing in the door frame he assures them that he would remain in the house, just down another hall. He leaves the door open a crack, footsteps gradually fading back down the hall.

BunniesOfDoom + OceanicVoid

Heyo! I'll try to get a reply up either tomorrow evening or sometime this weekend hopefully. Got new deadlines set for a course project and ended up getting minor burn out from writing partway through the beginning segment.

BunniesOfDoom + OceanicVoid

Perfectly fine 👌🏽
Write what you feel up to at the moment/is most engaging for you.
Get well soon, wishing you good sleep too.

BunniesOfDoom + OceanicVoid

Ah, still no words for now it seemed. That was fine for now. So long as he could understand her and vice versa. He moves to stand beside her, squinting at where she had previously pointed. The dull light of the lamps combined with the dark distance made it impossible for Ilian to see what she was referring to. He glanced back at the painting she had pointed to and put it together with the barking.

“The dogs are back, I take it. I wonder if they are simply passing through or if they found the rabbit den. At least I think it’s still there…” he says, still futility looking out the window, “Though it is a wonder you are able to see anything at all.”

The grounds of the manor did contain a few lamps along certain paths around the property, all of them unlit and nothing more than decoration now, even before he had moved back in. It made strays and other sorts of animals more comfortable traversing in and around the grounds, the overgrown grass and weeds making for a perfect hunting ground for small game or sometimes safe cover to pass through or hide. Some took the animals as another sign of the sorry state the manor had fallen into, while he viewed it as the emptiness being filled.

He rarely walked down the paths anymore, the had garden long since vanished into the weeds, but at least it was still appreciated by something else.

“There is a cat that drops by as well. If he ever brings any guests over, however, I’ve not seen it .” He gestures over his shoulder to a painting of a grey short haired cat stalking a mouse, “He looks similar to that, though he has a white patch over his left eye.”

Maybe they would run into the frequent feline visitor when he inevitably took her out to explore the property. He wonders if she would be as enthusiastic about them as she was with the dogs.

He looks down the hall towards their destination, but decides not to press on too quickly, pausing to allow his creation to take in more of the paintings if she wished or stop to observe whatever caught their attention outside.

BunniesOfDoom + OceanicVoid

The corners of his lips twitched up, out of practice, but finally allowing the amusement he felt while watching his creation’s explorations show. The blank, pained expression from when they had first awakened now replaced with a brighter one. More alert and aware of the world around them and seemingly eager to take it in. While he would not get ahead of himself, it was promising.

A ball of congealed something splat against the floor between them, followed by a noise of confusion, scratchy but more pleasant sounding than the previous gurgling. As he was about to reach for a spare vial a low trill interrupted his actions, his creation’s excitement palpable as they gestured to their now clear throat. Another sound joins them and it takes a moment for Ilian to realize that it was coming from him. A quiet rumble of laughter. He quells it quickly, though a faint curve of the lips remained.

“Better?” he asks, grabbing hold of the vial again before glancing around the room and getting another idea.

He eases himself up, grabbing hold of the cane he had leant against the tank, and using it in addition to the tank’s side to support himself as he grasps his creation’s hand. He gives it a gentle tug, making a small gesture with his head to follow.

With the stray shards of glass on the ground and the previous incident, he’d rather not risk having to stitch them up again or end up re-attaching something.

“Come,” he says, “Let us get you cleaned up elsewhere and settled in. I’ll make you something for your throat.”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

As the doors of the makeshift lab swing shut the hall is plunged into silence. The flames of the few lamps lit flicker against the ornamental wallpaper, giving off a warm glow. Along one side of the hall were tall windows, the drapes half pulled aside, forgotten by the doctor. It was dark out, partially cloudy, but even still specks of light shone between the clouds. Along the other were paintings of various landscapes featuring azure lakes and emerald forests, alongside animals hiding in the brush, many of them predators. Foxes, wolves, cats, hounds, and birds of prey appeared to be a common theme.

Ilian is quiet as they walk, keeping his eyes forward and mindful of his steps, occasionally glancing at his creation, trying to gauge their expression and guessing at their thoughts about their new surroundings before it occurs to him to ask. He had thought they followed along as he spoke while stitching them up, but was still unsure of the degree of which they understood him, whether it was simply registering that he was speaking or understanding the words and their meanings. Even still, it would benefit both of them to see if they could communicate verbally presently or if more time needed to be given.

“How are you feeling now?” he starts, trying to keep his questions simple.

BunniesOfDoom + OceanicVoid

Heyo ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

My next reply might take a bit. I went home for the weekend and have been spending time with family. We're going to be heading out tomorrow before I have to drive back to my place. I'll do my best to get it it out to you when I can or when I settle back in on monday.

BunniesOfDoom + OceanicVoid

(๑ ˊ͈ ᐞ ˋ͈ )ƅ̋

Perfectly fine, that doesn't sound like a fun time. I hope you're able to get as much rest as you need to feel better. Get well soon!

( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

BunniesOfDoom + OceanicVoid

“Thank you.” he says.

Ilian leaned up, peering over the top tier of the cart and beginning to prepare needle and thread to suture the cut on his creation’s leg. Another gurgle catches his attention, and though no words were spoken the way their eyes darted about then to him gave him enough to guess.

“This is…” he pauses, looking around the room himself.

For the first time the chaos of the room is made apparent to him. Small shards of glass lay at the base of the crowded machinery. Sketches of his creation’s design and notes are plastered along the walls, what was once a dining table shoved to the side and piled high with books, journals, and vials. Shelves were lined with jars of preserved past trials, both failed and successful, their dead eyes clouded and staring out into nothing. Floating around a few rodents left open was the same murky grey fluid that seeped from his creation’s wound.

It was an unpleasant sight, he realized. The slow build up of the mess and the months he had spent alone within the room had blinded him to how others may see it. It would be enough to drive most away or drag law enforcement to his doorstep. To have awoken in a place like this…

He lightly cups his creation’s jaw, shifting their attention back to their leg, feeling a faint tinge of shame. “This was the dining room at one point. Now it’s my workspace.”

“It…” Moving their hand aside, he discards the now grey rag, wiping away the rest of the murky liquid with disinfectant and spreading a dollop of a pale green gel on the surrounding areas. “It will not be like this forever. I did have plans of cleaning it up once you had awoken, maybe even reverting it back to how it was before.”

Looking at the wound he notes that while it isn’t that long an inch is still far too deep for his liking. His creation’s previous prodding and unintentional damage of the deeper layers hadn’t helped either, prying the cut further and exposing the fascial layer. Needle in driver and forceps holding down the skin, he looks back up at his creation.

“I’ve administered a numbing agent, just to be safe. I am going to close up the wound now. Please refrain from touching it.” he says.

He waits for his hands to steady before proceeding, trying to keep the creeping fatigue at bay. He had made sure to rest before his creation’s awakening, paced himself throughout the day, and yet it came once more. He sighs, adjusting his position and resets the placement of his hands. After a few moments, finally, he could begin.

Needle bites into the fascia, working in a zigzag pattern. He finds himself continuing to talk, his manner a little less stilted and awkward as he explains the process to his creation, wanting to indulge their previous curiosity. While it had been unexpected, he took it as a good sign

“The layer I have closed up is called the fascia,” he points to the shiny pale purple layer pulled together with thread, “It is made up of connective tissue and is what separates the top layers of your skin from your muscle.”

Above it he points to the surrounding wall of soft, spongey grey mush, needle beginning to dig into that, continuing to lecture as he goes. “That is the subcutaneous layer or fat. It’s what provides protection for your entrails and structure for your skin. The top most layer is called the epidermis.”

Layer by layer he sews it shut, occasionally glancing up to gauge their reactions before finally closing off the last stitch along the top layer. How long it would take to heal without further intervention was the next question he had in mind.