therookery | an alert

Adrenaline spikes, seeing this man stand imposingly before them. Instinctively, he angles himself in front of Viktor, hands clenched as he fixes Edgard with a firm look.

“We treat each other just fine, thanks.”

If this is another demon, he thinks, then they are soooo fucked.

Though it does seem natural that the little guy should hide behind the more formidable figure of his friend, Viktor makes no move himself to make it happen. Rather than any outward sign of fear, what Edgard (so-called) receives through Jayce's warning retort is a sharp and attentive glare.

Fresh among his thoughts: Ellie's warning, the urgent crystal chatter. A direct challenge would indeed be unwise. Envy, it was said—what is it they want?

"Have you come to assist?"

Edgard's eyes narrow.

"If you wanted my assistance, you would've asked for it nicely.. Instead, someone ignored me."

Edgard walks right up to Jayce, looks him in the eye and pokes him right in the chest.

"I have a better idea, how about you two assist me?"

Edited (Bullied the wrong nerd) 2024-03-23 20:27 (UTC)

There's a split second of understanding the tactic Viktor has employed, but then Edgard (or the creature impersonating him) steps up and Jayce immediately takes another half-step forward, further wedging himself between the other two men.

"Assist you in what?" he asks, wary. He has no idea if the guise of cooperation will work, but it's worth a shot.

The demon's guise is effective; despite the likelihood of what it is they're facing, and the very real danger it presents, they see only plain Edgard, whose present conduct is thus not so much fearsome as it is plainly obnoxious. For a moment, Viktor wonders whether this is intentional. Would a demon be annoyed to know it's only annoying?

In any case, Jayce seems to have picked up on the approach, and while he continues to put himself dead centre of so-called-Edgard's attention, Viktor quietly engages the Thaumoscope one-handed. He does not yet raise the device, but slowly depresses a switch, then works the dial, minor movements memorized and made with only his thumb...

Edgard is annoyed, but by this man blocking his way. His finger still poking into Jayce's chest becomes two hands as he shoves all his weight into him. He may be a demon, but he still has an archer's arms.

"You can start by getting out of my way."

The poking finger was barely an annoyance in the grand scheme of things, but the shoving is still tepid relative to the worst Jayce anticipates. Equal parts surprised by the mundane offense and primally aggravated by it, he staggers backward and into Viktor, then swiftly regains his balance and surges forward.

“Back off,” he snaps, shoulder angled in a strike toward Edgard’s chest to push him further away from his partner. Relatively mundane or not, his blood is thrumming, nerves on edge with the threat (the fear) of violence. Fight condemns the lack of a weapon in his hands; everything else sickens at the thought of using it on someone who’s supposed to be an ally—someone who walks the same halls and shares the same meals, however infrequently.

For better or worse, he doesn’t take his eyes off of Edgard—doesn’t think that brief moment of contact with Viktor did any harm—

A brief shove is still a shove, still wrought by the mass of one man thrown against another—but it comes while Viktor is taking a half-shuffled step back from the pair of them, putting his good leg in a good place to take his own modest weight. The price: the same reflex that barely keeps him on his feet also jerks his arm for balance, and since his grip is already compromised by his own surreptitious fiddling—

The collision doesn't do Viktor any harm, particularly. It does result in a scrape and a clatter and the sharp sound of the Thaumoscope striking the floor.

"No—"

It's not that Edgard hasn't noticed the device, he's just a little preoccupied.

"What do you mean no? Are you still treating me like this when you don't treat anyone else like this?"

In his fury, his eyes glow just a little. It's just a moment, but it's enough.

"Stop blocking me." He says to Jayce. "You back off. I'm warning you!"

The furious glow of his eyes is just a moment, but it's enough -- enough for Jayce to keep his attention focused on Edgard, rather than check in on Viktor and that clatter. Glowing eyes does not automatically equal demon, but they sure don't endear.

Jayce takes a half-step backward. It isn't to concede, but to push forward with a grunt, arms thrust out in the hope of toppling Edgard -- or at least shoving him off balance so he might bodily restrain him. That ought to give Viktor enough time to retreat and request help through the crystals. Even if he suspects Edgard is another demon, he doesn't want to strike him first-- doesn't want to cause bodily harm (if one can do so with bare fists against a demon, anyway) -- on the off-chance that he isn't.

Retreat he does, as far as the nearest bookcase—a negligible distance for anyone in this room but him—with a slight detour to kick the fallen device ahead of himself. It skitters along the floor, rattling horribly, and hits the base of a shelf: still preferable to the stomp of scuffling boots.

"Library," he pants, the sending crystal aglow. Half a breath's hesitation, then, as he glimpses the greenish scar across his palm. If it comes down to it—

No.

"Library, first floor. It's hostile—hurry—"

This doesn't come far off the tail-end of her and Loxley's discussion and Abby had been getting her stuff together anyway, which she is now doing faster, grabbing her mace, lunging for the door—

"Coming from the templar tower," is the short response. She is speaking to both Viktor and Loxley, implying a silent directive to the latter: whoever gets there first, well. Good luck with that.

It could be her. She's taking the steps two at a time to get down there quick enough, then running through the corridor with an ear out for anything out of place on the way (though hearing anything over footsteps on stone will be tough). Lest she forget, there's more of these fucks where the one in the library came from. She has to remind herself as she slams the door to the library open that it has Edgard's face on but she has to hit it anyway, as hard as she fucking can. That's gonna feel bad later.

Right now, she's yelling, "Hey—" at it, which is the loudest she has ever been in the library, for the record.

Choosing a more subtle approach—but no less speedy—is the now invisible tiefling hot on her heels.

She'll have seen him coming around the corner prior to their arrival, giving barely a nod of acknowledgment before, with a gesture, his form had flickered into non-existence, and he allowed his boots to scuff against the floor to indicate to her he's following along. By the time they're closing in on the library—

Well, he's quiet. Borderline silent. He's already gotten a knife into hand, held close to himself, trailing swift and sure in Abby's wake and slinking into the library underneath the sound of her hey, aiming for a wider trajectory to get himself a good angle. Reflexively avoids a shaft of light so as not to disturb the drifting dust and give himself away.

Edgard who generally would be toppled by Jayce's shove, catches his arm and shoved him back. He is ready to land another blow when Edgard, hearing Abby, turns around to face her, rolls his eyes and waggles his fingers at her and makes a face. Oooooo scary demon! He laughs to himself.

"See that people listen to you when you talk to them on the crystal." He spits bitterly behind him.

He folds his arms.

"Wasn't doing anything. We were just talking."

Edited (commas are important and so are comprehending ppls tags) 2024-03-26 23:58 (UTC)

"Is that what you were doing," from up above, as Mobius hauls himself down from the upper levels, studies (increasingly fruitless) into envy demons forgotten. He doesn't, for whatever it's worth, appear to be armed. "Because it sounds like you were causing a whole ruckus in my library. And after I told everyone to knock it off just recently, too."

He sees, as he makes his way down the stairs, the situation starting to unfold, and Abby's presence is at least going to help in wrestling (or killing) a demon wearing Edgard's face. Maybe if they surround the damned thing, it won't know where to strike.

Jayce staggers back with a small noise of surprise. He honestly thought the shove would push Edgard off-kilter enough simply based on the appearance of him. His attention is so focused on Edgard that he doesn't notice the sound of Abby's approach until she's shouting. Relief blooms in his chest, even as his eyes dart between the two, and then, a second voice above, the Head Archivist--

It's enough to afford him a quick glance behind, searching for Viktor to visually confirm his safety in lieu of responding. Who's to say Edgard (or, darkly, Edgard) is the sole hostile individual in the library?

(And is it cowardly to let himself finally accept the suspicion now that there are other people -- more capable people -- present and presumably willing to kill on that very same suspicion? If he'd his weapon, would he do the same?)

Viktor doesn't respond to probably-not-Edgard's fixation upon this figment of injustice—could, but doesn't. He doesn't even glance at him, only looks past him, to find Jayce as he turns.

(It's very intentional. Distraction, angry or otherwise, can be as good as weapon as anything handheld.)

To trust a familiar voice, a face you recognize, patterns of known behaviour, it's all but involuntary. Abby's voice, the face of Mobius, Jayce throwing himself in bodily without pause, these are all reassuring. (The horned one stalking nearby, he's a mystery.) When your own mind is working against your interests, that's the trap. He and his partner share a similar thought: this likely pretender may not be the only one.

Nevertheless, with a crisp flurry of gesture, he waves Jayce in.

Abby pauses, panting from the running, a kick of adrenaline still blooming in her chest. Her mace is held loosely before her, in both hands. It's a little startling that Edgard — the demon — doesn't rush her for barging in when she's clearly ready for a fight. More than that: it's disarming. She hesitates, and Mobius' voice fills her silence (she doesn't look up).

"Library's not for talking," she says evenly, rolling a shoulder. Aware of Jayce moving behind Edgard, aware that Loxley is somewhere in here, that Mobius doesn't know that and is descending the stairs. "That's kind of the whole point.

"How 'bout we get out of here, and talk somewhere else?"

Keep him busy... she doesn't have to stall for long.

Not long at all.

Because there is a virtue to being invisible, and thus, a little bit outside of everything that's happening. Unseen, Loxley doesn't have to play pretend at conversation or consider how much the archivist above understands the situation or whether or not the other two, further in the room, are planning to involve themselves. Doesn't have to pretend he's doing anything other than sizing Edgard up, considering his approach, looking for weak points.

One last judging look to Abby—determining whether or not she is making a meaningful attempt at separating the demon from everyone else, or simply offering herself as a focus. The latter, he decides, and quietly steps in somewhere at Edgard's flank.

It'll take a second—it'll feel like a flash of fire, first, until impact and damage actually register to higher thought. A dagger rakes with sharp precision along the back of Edgard's leg at the hamstring, comes away bloodied. In the same moment, as Loxley draws the blade through, his invisibility drops, revealing a rangy-limbed qunari on a mission.

And it also means that Edgard will see it coming when, with speed, Loxley then moves his second blade to cut somewhere vital at the man's elbow. Whether he makes it or not, he'll be twisting aside to avoid retaliation—or get out of someone's way.

Edgard, or perhaps someone else, intakes a breath to retort to Abby that he won't speak with someone who earlier spoke to him so rudely, but is unable to say anything before pain is felt in his leg. Instead of speaking, he roars and his mouth opens unnaturally wide distorting the face that belongs to Edgard.

While he is roaring, he is sliced again and suddenly his legs grow long and distort into large spidery legs. In a flash, the demon, half revealed and half Edgard appears away from Loxley, but next to Abby. His Edgard arm stretches wide to turn over a shelf onto her, books falling everywhere. It's possible she might get away, but in a flash the demon appears next to Mobius. He screams again in pain, Edgard's face fully sloughing off now, but is unable to move away once more.

Edited (add cw ) 2024-03-27 23:50 (UTC)

There's a lot that happens all at once. How a qunari can be so stealthy is startling, "Edgard"'s face contorting in that horrifying way along with the rest of his body, Abby suddenly in danger of simply being crushed by a weight--and then the demon with increasingly terrible gore suddenly by him.

He knows this from his studies: an envy demon on the run, or backed into a corner, or given a chance to flee, can put up some form of defense that seems to require a good deal of lyrium. Which means they can't let any opportunity pass by. There's a small influence of--power, perhaps, or a soft but righteous energy, something that Mobius summons up from his chest the way he summons any skill granted to him by the Templar ways, subtle and directed around him. A powerful fervor against demon-kind.

From his sleeve, a letter opener. It barely counts as a weapon at all, but he launches himself bodily at the demon with a yell. It might stop him in his tracks, or it might take a tumble down the stairs or even over the banister. Whatever the case, he makes to plunge the makeshift dagger into what more or less constitutes the thing's neck.

Any chance that Abby may have had at retaliating to any of this — a hasty curse slipping free when Edgard roars and opens his mouth wide, wider, enough to split his head in two — is lost when the thing appears beside her so suddenly she can't get her mace up in time. It swipes. She ducks.

Her answering gasp is lost in the sound of the case knocking her down, wood hitting the floor, the soft spill of books out the sides. Stillness, for a moment. Then movement, one arm appearing out from underneath, scrabbling against the ground, Abby trying to decide if she can somehow wriggle out or if she needs to lift it off of herself entirely.

She's breathing hard, now pushing with her shoulder, head stinging where she hit it. At least it's less heavy with all of the books out of it.

Demon-Edgard is roaring in the background.

Edited 2024-03-28 03:26 (UTC)

Nodding to Viktor, Jayce has every intention of joining his side -- of removing him from the situation entirely -- when the roar of pain snatches his attention. The horror of the demon's reveal overtakes the surprise of a suddenly apparent third individual; it turns Jayce's blood cold, freezing him in place until the shelves connect with--

"Abby!" is an involuntary gasp, alarm burning through the terror. Jayce rushes to the toppled bookcase, the demon, the demon shrieking in the back of his mind all the while. Falling onto a knee, he grasps the edge of the case and lifts, affording her more room to scramble out.

It's changing now, screaming and splitting, rearranging itself with contortions beyond reason. It's pulling the room down. It's so fast, it's so—

Mobius charges. A qunari has appeared from nothing and the nod has evaporated. "Abby," they say, in unison, and then Viktor shrinks against the shelf behind him. He flinches bodily, seems on the edge of retreat, shoulders turned and watching over his own arm, transfixed—

A starting leap in the direction of where the demon appears beside Abby is stalled to a slide, flinching backwards at the avalanche of books, the heavy tumble of the shelving. Shows teeth in a wince, and then pivots automatically for the sound of that demonic screeching—above.

(That all was horrifying. But, he is busy, and will simply have to process it in a minute or two.)

With something that is both faith that Abby will be fine and someone else will see to her (he hopes) (in his periphery, that appears to be resolving) as well as an understanding of where he, Loxley, should be in any encounter, he starts taking long strides for the staircase, letting one of his daggers drop to the floor.

The item that springs into his hand is pointed upwards as soon as he can get an angle, and gives off a sharp metallic twang. A hand crossbow, firing off an innocuous barbed bolt, aimed for where he can see distorted muscle hopefully up near the demon's throat, if not, his shoulder.

And then continuing up the stairs, bounding leaps, two or three at a time.

an alert | open

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unbrackets my tag

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not the weirdest nor the loudest thing i've witnessed in the library fwiw

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Cw: body horror

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cw: idk its gross

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cw injury description

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