[log] I JUST DIIIIIED IN YOUR ARMS TONIIIIIIGHT [closed]

[devoutish]

Characters: Alfie Solomons, Emily Kaldwin, Fiona, Royce Melborn
Location building 41
Date: evening of 157 through morning of 158
Summary: Alfie bleeds to death in the blood house, for maximum Snowhell fun
Warnings: graphic injury, death and dying

Step into the only remaining room in this house and you'll be in for a shock--at first blush, it looks like you've stepped into a room that has blood all over the floor and walls. Look closer, though, and it's actually paint. This was once an artist's studio, judging by the canvases stacked up in the corner. It seems like there were paintings on the canvases once, but now they're muddy or blacked out entirely by thick paint. Some of the paint on the walls has been scraped away, revealing yet more paint. Some of the canvases have had their paint scraped off, or have been taken apart entirely.

Comments

[empireofrats]

[Emily is frowning, too. Half apologetically for Royce, half still mildly suspicious of Fiona.] It's okay. Adults fight a lot. I've heard a lot of adults fighting.

I know you'll take care of Mister Alfie's things. [Because she's guilting you into it RIGHT NOW.] He likes you.

[plundering]

Yeah, I know. I like him, too.

[Fiona sighs, straightening up as she toys with the bracelet absently.]

I'll leave as soon as the doors unlock. No more fighting.

[empireofrats]

[Thankfully, this time the frown isn't so harsh.] We should stay together. Mister Alfie wouldn't want us to split up.

The monsters could get you and eat you.

[plundering]

Don't worry. I'll catch up with John, and I'll be fine. Do you think Royce will take good care of you?

[empireofrats]

[Emily doesn't appear to be convinced.] Who's "Royce"?

[plundering]

Uh, Duster. Seriously, kid, thanks for worrying, but I'll be okay.

[empireofrats]

[WHAT] Um. [She glances at Royce, then looks back to Fiona. Maybe the lady is just crazy. Maybe she's telling a lie. Maybe Royce had told a lie.

All of it kind of worries her a bit.] Oh.

I don't really know you, but Mister Alfie likes you, and I don't want him to be sad when he comes back. [Look, she doesn't know you're from a murderplanet like she's from a murdercity. LISTEN.] And then how will he get his bracelet back if something happens?

[plundering]

Hey, I can take care of myself. Really. You don't have to worry about me.

[She glances pointedly at Royce.]

Anyway, probably better if I left.