[CLOSED PSL] Come away, little lamb, come away to the water....

[johtaja]

To the arms that are waiting only for you
Come away, little lamb, come away to the slaughter
To the one appointed to see this through

We are coming for you....

- A closed AU RP for readytosee -

Comments

Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste....

[johtaja]

An innocent little vhs tape, picked up from the back of a New York City bodega. A faded cardboard sleeve, open on one end. So easy for someone wandering through to grab from someone's basket and replace with a different tape, breezing past with brim of hat pulled low and a murmured "you dropped this, boss."

The first domino to nudge over in the pattern of a greater scheme.

Now, far, far away from that bodega, from that interaction, a television set plays static into a darkened room. There are no windows - perhaps a basement - but it's not dingy, either. The floor is covered in lavish pillows of silk and brocade...or, at least, the part of the floor right in front of the television stand.

There are no lights on, only the screen, but that's enough to see the borders of the space are lined with couches and seats, mismatched but well-appointed. The air smells overwhelmingly of incense and smoke, cigarette and otherwise....

And in the corner, there is a staircase leading up, with an envelope sitting on the bottom step.

[readytosee]

This is not a good start to his vacation.

His forced vacation, at that. Director Faden had asked for a meeting with him the other day, which had felt awkward, as their meetings tend to. Moreso that she'd called him out on his drinking, which had gotten worse since everything that had happened with the Hiss. Which he can't deny that it had, but he'd thought he was at least functioning well enough. Working long hours, certainly, but he was... fine.

Apparently not as fine as he'd tried to make himself appear, however, if the Director is giving him an order to take at least a week to get himself back together. To rest, she'd said.

So he'd stopped by the bodega near his neighbourhood on the way home to pick up something to eat, since there was very little food in his house. There were some old VHS tapes in a clearance bin, so he'd grabbed one of those, too. Something by Hitchcock. He thought little of the stranger who bumped into him, thanking him distractedly.

He'd settled in for the evening with his sandwich and a drink, popping the tape in and trying to just... relax.

Except he must have dozed off, because now he's waking up on a pile of pillows, static playing on the TV screen. He rubs at his eyes under his glasses, trying to pull himself back together to assess his surroundings. Certainly not his house, and not the Oldest House either. Not the Oceanview, or at least not any part that he's seen.

Still, the envelope is piquing his curiosity, and he makes his way over the pillows and things to see what the envelope has to tell him.

[johtaja]

The envelope is simple - the message inside equally so. A typewritten note on clean white paper...well, clean save for a coffee ring in the lower right corner.

Doctor Casper Darling,

Hello. =)

I hope you can excuse your temporary accommodations. I couldn't be quite sure when you would drop in.

I'm sure you have questions. I have answers.

Come upstairs and find me, and let's chat.

--C.B.

[readytosee]

(If anyone can appreciate a coffee mug circle, it's Darling.)

Curiouser and curiouser... He can't recall a C.B., off the top of his head. And he's still not sure how he got here, which bothers him. Even on days with heavy drinking, he tended to remember how he got from one place to another.

But he supposes there's only really one way to get his answers, and so he makes his way upstairs, note in hand.

[johtaja]

The stairs are short - clearly something more residential than industrial - and at the top, the door is unlocked, allowing Darling through.

Beyond the door...is what seems to be a short hallway in a cabin, decorated in a cheerful Bohemian style. Wooden walls are hung with tapestries and artwork of all kinds in dizzying array, the air thick with that same melange of incense and smoke from downstairs.

Just around the corner, kitchen sounds can be heard - and if followed, their source can be traced to a figure with his back to the entryway, busy with a French press. The scent of coffee permeates the smoke, joined by something sweet-smelling coming from the oven.

The man himself is barefoot, dressed in drapey, dated clothes in dizzying patterns. His face can't yet be seen - a mass of dark curls streaked here and there with silver all but curtains his features from all directions but forward.

He's humming. He doesn't seem to notice his guest just yet - or at the least, he doesn't make it clear that he does.

[readytosee]

There are several options as to why he might be where. He has, perhaps, traveled to this place through paranatural means on accident. But that doesn't quite pan out, does it? No, his -- host, for lack of a better word, knows him and was expecting him, if the note is anything to go by.

So his second theory is that he was brought here for some purpose. Which -- if that is the case, it's definitely the most laid-back kidnapping he could think of. No being held at gunpoint or bundled off in the back of an unmarked van. Just... placed gently on a pile of pillows in a strange house.

Darling clears his throat, keeping his distance for now. Lingering by the doorway into the kitchen. "It seems you have me at a disadvantage. Since you know who I am, but I'm not sure yet who you are."

[johtaja]

"Oh, good. You're here, and you're up. I thought I heard static down there, but it was really only a guess." Casual. He continues making coffee, not yet bothering to turn around. His voice is tilted at the edges with an accent, but his tone is sure, smooth. Controlled.

"And you're right. Being at an advantage is how I like things, Doctor Casper Darling, head of Research at the Federal Bureau of Control. I know a lot about you. I even know how you take your coffee."

The man turns, mug in glittering, ring-encrusted hand to offer it out. He looks to be an older fellow, somewhere in his mid to late sixties, perhaps...but very fit and well-kept all the same. His eyes, bright, clear, and blue, are fixed upon his hapless guest. They sparkle like that of a much younger man, but that spark isn't coming from that eerie, broad grin. No, that doesn't warm his expression whatsoever.

Madness and authority seem to drip from him in tandem, seeping into his voice in amounts that brew danger when combined. He taps a black-lacquered nail against the mug.

"But - fair is fair.

My name is Chester. Pleasure to meet you."

[readytosee]

"I am both here and awake, it would seem." He takes the coffee, a little warily, as he tries to size up his host. His smile a little too wide, eyes a little to bright. All over a bit disconcerting, despite his flashy outfit and easy air.

"Lovely to meet you, Chester. I think, at least. That depends entirely on why and how I'm here, doesn't it?"

Darling sniffs a little at the coffee, and blinks in surprise as the strong scent of whiskey comes out of the mug. "You certainly do know how I like my coffee, don't you?"

[johtaja]

"Of course I do. It also happens to be how I like my coffee." That grin broadens all the more - those are some sharp canine teeth, aren't they?

He picks up his own mug and takes a sip, gesturing with a tilt of his chin towards a nearby dining table.

"Have a seat, Doctor. I have an oven pancake in I'll need to pull in a minute or two. I suspected you didn't get to eat that sandwich you picked up."

Maddeningly casual, given the implications at play here. His smile turns wry as he leans back against the counter.

"You might be the only one at your organization who could say it's lovely to meet me with a straight face, actually.

We've killed a few of you, after all."

[readytosee]

"Ah." Then the name Chester bothering something in Darling's brain was putting him on the right path, after all. He'll have to tread carefully, here. Especially since he has no idea where here actually is.

"You were successful then. At least a little, with your altered item. The tape?" he ventures, sitting at the table but not touching his coffee yet. "I assume that's how you got me here.

Congratulations on that, anyway. And the murder, I'm sure."

[johtaja]

"Oh, well. Only sort of. The tape transported people into the basement of this cabin when I found it, actually.

So, naturally, I built a compound around it."

A timer dings - and Chester turns, grabbing an oven mitt and pulling the steaming confection out of the heat. He wastes no time cutting a couple of slices, plating them, and sprinkling them with preserves before setting them both on the table.

He takes a seat opposite Casper, taking another sip of his coffee.

"And I don't know that I would call it murder. Dangerous line of work you're all in. Handling dangerous things." Another too-sharp smile.

"But back to the altered item...I didn't create that one. But I have been trying to replicate it."

He takes a bite of pancake.

"I'm more artist than scientist, I'm afraid."

[readytosee]

"Naturally," is the rather dry response. Darling toys with the coffee mug but leaves his slice of pancake alone. Chester seems to be eating it just fine, but Darling still doesn't know who or what he's dealing with, here.

"Are you a dangerous thing, then? Since we've been attempting to handle you. Without too much success, I'll give you that, anyway."

He taps his fork against the table, keeping his eyes on Bless's face. Trying to read him, but people were never his strong suit. He works better with date, people are... temperamental. "So you need a scientist, that's why I'm here."

[johtaja]

Chester had fully expected Darling to be hesitant to eat, of course. But hey. He tried.

Setting down his fork for a moment, he takes up his mug in both hands, smiling over it. It's still hot, and it steams against the skin of his palms. "I'm sure some would call me dangerous," he purrs, in just the way someone dangerous might. "But I like to think I'm a nice enough man. I take care of my own. And was giving people confidence really such a bad thing?"

Bless is... difficult to read, with that Cheshire grin and those glittering blue eyes that don't seem to blink often enough.

"To borrow a phrase...'bingo bango.'"

Wearing the veil, seeking the grail, wall where you wail, and musical scales....

[dermondversteckt]

'Oh, you're almost certainly going to be his choice,' Bless had said. There are a few people interested in assisting the scientist, of course. It's been the talk of the commune. So it seems worth it to put in just that much more leg work.

(And, conveniently, for reasons oh-so-unknown, all those others are...mysteriously absent today.)

The young man leaning against the front entrance is scrawny, short, with a head of raven curls (tighter than Chester's, but far less kempt) and bright, stormy grey-blue eyes. He's dressed in earth tones, the only jewelry on his person a necklace of various coins.

While he waits, he's twanging away on a jaw harp, plucking out a lively rhythm. It diffuses his intensity a little. He'll probably need that. He looks very young, and if Darling doesn't bite, his efforts so far will be for nothing.

This is gonna need a light hand.

[readytosee]

Darling is excited to explore the extent of the labspace Bless has offered him. Has made, just for him, and he'd be lying if he said the thought didn't tickle him just a little. Something built new, not inherited. How exciting.

And the Items held below are certainly intriguing. Oh yes, his time here will be very interesting.

He glances up from jotting something in his notebook in time to see the visitor at the lab, and he recognizes the man from his work on the cottage that's being set up for him. Which he hopes happens sooner, rather than later, since living with Bless is rather... tense. Not bad, just different.

Anyway.

Darling smiles pleasantly and offers his hand in greeting. "Hello there. You look familiar, I think I saw you working on putting the cabin together for me, didn't I?"

[dermondversteckt]

The young man stops twanging on his instrument when Darling greets him, tucking it smoothly into his pocket on his way to take the offered hand and shake it. His nails are a little long for the average man his age, painted a matte black, but he doesn't appear otherwise particularly ornamental. He smiles, a little lopsided. Rakish. Charming.

"Hello, Sir," he finally replies, a heavy Romanian accent slanting his words at the edges. "Yes, I have been helping with that. Building and project management aren't usually me, but we all wear a lot of hats around here when we have to."

Well, no sense mincing words.

"My name is Kronid, sir. Doctor Kronid Dascalu, actually, but I'm not a ceremony kind of man. And I would like to offer you my services as a research assistant."

[readytosee]

If there's a look of surprise, it's only because he wasn't really expecting a lot of scientists about the place. He was under the impression that it was more of an artist's retreat, but he's been wrong about many things since arriving here. "Well it's very nice to meet you, Doctor Dascalu. Unless you'd prefer Kronid?"

The painted nails are less surprising, actually, given how Bless dresses himself. "From what I've seen and heard, everyone pitches in on different projects. Very... communal."

[dermondversteckt]

This young man, Darling will find, walks the line between art and science. Which part of him is the truth is anyone's guess, his own included.

"Just Kronid is fine," he chuckles, hooking his thumbs in his jean pockets. The latter comment gets a little laugh, low and dark, and his smile is just a little more crooked still.

"...If I can speak frankly, Doctor? They're fucking crazy. Most of them, anyway. But there's some good work to do here, I think, and...well, I would have kicked myself if I hadn't at least come to talk to you. Your work with resonance changed some of my own applied studies."

[readytosee]

The comment gets a slightly startled look, since he wasn't expecting anyone to just come out and admit it. That people here are odd. More than odd, certainly. To hear someone else say it is oddly reassuring. That perhaps he's not the only sane one here.

And then this Kronid is speaking highly of his work, and Darling is surprised anew. "Did it really? My resonance work, I mean. A shame it couldn't be published in full, but I'm so glad to hear someone's read it. What did you apply it to?"

[dermondversteckt]

Kronid doesn't care even a little bit about the people here. No, they're idiots, tools. Even Darling is.

But for now he's playing nice, leaning into his careful stroke of Darling's ego. He tries to look sheepish.

"Oh, my field is primarily the applications of sound on the brain. I'm a hypnotist. Licensed in hypnotherapy and music therapy."

Well.

He has something that says license on it, anyway.

[readytosee]

"Oh that is fascinating, I hadn't thought to apply it in that way! But now that you've said it, of course it makes sense. Altering someone's resonance for hypnotherapy -- brilliant, brilliant work, really. I'd love to read what you've written, some time!

But please -- you've clearly been waiting for me. Shall we go in?" he asks, tilting his body to block the keypad before punching in his code.

665. It still bothers him that Bless chose that, of all numbers.

[dermondversteckt]

"Oh, I would be happy to get you copies. And even live demonstration, if you are ever interested."

He chuckles as he's asked inside, leaning against the wall while the code is punched in.

"It's funny. People always seem to feel the need to invite me into buildings. Maybe it's the accent?"

[readytosee]

"Oooh, I could be tempted. I've never been hypnotized before, I have to say. We've studied the phenomenon -- well I say we, someone else in the department did." But Darling is polite and holds the door open, ushering Kronid inside.

"Hmm? Oh! Like a vampire, I hadn't thought of that. I was just trying to be a good host. But do you really? How funny."

[dermondversteckt]

There's a hungry gleam to Kronid's eyes while Darling's back is turned. He was probably going to quietly influence this man one way or another, but it will certainly be easier if handed the proverbial keys to the kingdom.

He's all smiles when he turns after entering though, laughing softly.

"Well, I am very Romanian. I probably invite the comparison just by speaking." There's opportunity here, though. He runs his hand against the corner edge of a file cabinet as he walks into the space, taking it in, his coin necklace jingling faintly in the mostly vacant room.

"Anyway, I don't think vampires are what they fear in the dark around here."

[readytosee]

"Next you'll tell me you don't drink wine," he teases with a laugh, friendly and outgoing. Strangely enough, this place has made him feel more at ease than when he started at the Oldest House. It's much less formal, here. No mounds of paperwork to fill out, no one to answer to but himself and perhaps Bless.

Which has been a bit of an adjustment, if he's honest. All this freedom. But it's nice, in its own way; he's starting to establish a routine of waking early, jogging along the path around the lake, grabbing something to eat from the mess hall, and then diving into his work. Kronid had caught him transitioning from breakfast to work, which is likely the best time to catch him.

He makes his way to the desk he's claimed for himself, gesturing to a nearby chair. "Please, come, sit. Tell me a little about yourself? Or -- you could elaborate on what is to be feared in the dark, here."