audio ✁ ❛ towards the door we never opened ❜

[misfortunes]

Good afternoon—City, isn't it? I suppose this is an offer for work; we're rather in need of doctors—a physician, a surgeon. . . a veterinarian. . .

Vincent. Instead of asking for things we don't need—

[ Though that would make one wonder about his definition of "need." ]

—why don't you try asking for a way out, instead? That way, we won't keep anyone waiting any longer.

Well—the master's overstrained himself, after all. . . [ but, returning to the audiofeed - ] It's a matter of some urgency, you see. It seems we won't be staying.

Comments

in person. obviously.

[dispossess]

[ He is very unhappy right about now-- between the stab wound (which is healing [albeit too slowly for his likes]) and the exhaustion from overuse of his new Chain, combined with the fact that he is here, although he doesn't quite know where here even is, aside from it being not where he wants to be--

The verdict is general unhappiness. Which is why he may be a bit...snappish with Vincent today. ]

Of course we won't. So we won't be bothering with doctors-- or veterinarians.

[ Really, Vincent? ]

nothing obvious about it!

[misfortunes]

[ Vincent—who's had his Gilbert-mangled fit, exchanged some words with a passerby for instructions on operating the little device in his hand, and considered his options—has... touched on a few conclusions. None of them seem to change the little tilt of his mouth as he settles himself on a nearby stone bench to keep an eye on Leo. Still, he sounds a little distant. ]

It looks as if we've lost some time already. Do you suppose they've waited?

shush, you.

[dispossess]

[ He will also be sitting, just...keeping some distance from Vincent. (Self-appointed) servant or not, Leo can't say he's all too fond of him. More the opposite, really. He'd be glaring, if he had the proper energy for a proper glare. ]

If they haven't, we'll find them again.

[ That's what his Chain is for. ]

[misfortunes]

Was that ever in question? But, as things stand, if we've a few hours to spare. . .

[dispossess]

Are you suggesting we waste even more time?

[misfortunes]

[ ssssigh, words. does Leo not realise how tired he is. :( he hasn't napped all day. :( does he not understand this tragedy. ]

It's been too long. . . Regardless of travel arrangements, we've already lost the edge of surprise.

[dispossess]

[ He's tired too, but he doesn't care about that. His well-being isn't much of a priority. Nor is Vincent's. ]

I don't care about surprise. I want to finish this. And if you want me to grant your wish, you'll want the same thing.

[ He doesn't like Vincent. He doesn't like having someone acting loyal to him, and he absolutely doesn't like having to wait here, injured, chest twinging with pain whenever he moves, instead of being done with all of this. ]

[misfortunes]

[ Leo, you pain. Vincent spares him a longer glance, taking in the damage, the state of his clothes, the slight mulishness of the young master Baskerville's determination. He laughs—light, low and thin, though there's an edge in the rising sound. Abandoning the bench, Vincent stands again to drift over in slow steps. ]

Really. . . need I say it again?

[ He kneels with a flourish at Leo's feet. Yes, in public, a whole city walking by and all. ]

Your goals are mine, my lord.

[dispossess]

[ He hates that. Hates that loyalty, hates him saying and showing it so plainly and publicly, hates Vincent. ]

Of course they are.

[ And himself. ]

[misfortunes]

Will you grant me a moment to speak, then?

[ His head lifts, but he doesn't rise. He is literally going to stay in this terrible pose until Leo goes through the dumb rites of ordering him to move.

How's that mastery working out now. ]

[dispossess]

Fine. Just-- stop that.

[ Exasperated and frustrated. He's never liked people looking at him to start, after all. ]

[misfortunes]

"That"?

[dispossess]

The kneeling. It's getting awfully annoying.

text;

[sickbeat]

about three things im absolutely positive
first what the hell a vet
second might as well get the YOU MUST BE NEW shit out of the way
and third you are unconditionally and irrevocably unable to leave

[misfortunes]

. . . as it's your order.

[ murmured, as he rises. ]

Either Pandora has been taken . . . or it's regrouped. It won't serve us to hurry in either case.

voice!!

[misfortunes]

[ god, boy, can't you spell. and what is that font even. ]

You'll have to speak up, I'm afraid. . . the local writing tradition's a bit strange to me!

voice!!

[sickbeat]

[With a sigh-- voice.]

What, can't you read.

[misfortunes]

So it speaks after all. . . ? And the same language, to think.

[dispossess]

[ He doesn't much care for Vincent standing, looking down at (on) him, but it's better than the alternative, he supposes. ]

If we won't hurry, you can at least find the way back now.

[ Are you scared of a little work, Vincent? ]

voice;

[dispossess]

[ Thankfully, he has some experience in reading...less-than-well-written pieces of work. But the text doesn't help much. ]

It's terribly easy to leave a city. You only keep walking. Or haven't you tried that yet?

1/laaaaaaaate to the party

[forhishonor]

[ DAT VOICE ]

2/were you expecting something serious

[forhishonor]

[ THOSE VOICES ]

3/sorry you'll be sorely disappointed then

[forhishonor]

--Vincent?

[ what the hell is his creepy older not!brother doing here? and, no less, in the company of elliot's personal servant. ]

4/but what else is new

[forhishonor]

Leo!

[ where the hell have you been, honestly?












and what the hell happened to your hair ]

5/I should probably do work now

[forhishonor]

When did the two of you get here?

[ better not have been hiding from him all this time!!!! he knows what the two of you are made of.....ish ]