tushanshu_logs | OPEN | BUT WITH STIPULATIONS

Characters: Many and various and YOU, but with specific starters involving: Skulduggery Pleasant

gistful, and Evandau.
Date: All throughout September. The thread with Anton occurs within the first few days of September, and the thread with Evandau happens sometime after that, but within the first week.
Location: All throughout Keeliai, theoretically, BUT Skulduggery will be actively avoiding public places.
Situation: Skulduggery's been infected by the cultists' poison, and since he's already prone to flashes of anger and violent urges, he's... staying in as often as possible. He's also taking steps to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid by talking to Anton, and then promptly going and doing something stupid by talking to Evandau.
Warnings/Rating: Anger. Lots and lots of anger. The thread with Evandau has a possibility of resulting in serious injury, but that has yet to be determined. Thread with Anton will have major book 6 spoilers.

[OOC Note: Because of the poison, Skulduggery's not going to be out and about, but he will respond to messages and visits and whatnot. If your character wouldn't be the type to contact him on their own and you want shenanigans to occur, PM me or ping me at

Amaraq and we can work something out!]

A: Anton

Within the first twenty-four hours of being poisoned outside the Hotel, Skulduggery already knew something was wrong. He hadn't noticed it at first, possibly because he was already so accustomed to the feeling. But when even his usual dry brand of humour didn't help assuage any of the constant irritation he was feeling, he knew something was up. And when he had a nightmare - a nightmare - during his meditation, a nightmare which somehow managed to inflame his wounds despite the complete lack of skin, Skulduggery knew he had to do something.

So he went to Anton's Hotel.

Any misgivings he used to have were gone, replaced by anger. Any fear he might have had that he would lose one of the few friends he would care about losing had vanished, replaced by absolute certainty of the loss happening regardless and brutal practicality in the consequences. It was only because of Anton's reaction, in fact, that Skulduggery was considering doing this at all. Part of him didn't care if he lost control anymore.

He walked in without a disguise and looked around, movements precise and deceptively calm. There were no longer throngs of waiting, overheated Kedan he had to worry about. That was good.

B: Evandau

Interrogating Evandau over what happened at the Hotel would normally have been at the very top of Skulduggery's list of things to do, but after all of the events of the last week, he'd managed to convince himself to wait. The problem was that every last scrap of patience he had was wearing thin, and when he could no longer justify the wait to himself, Skulduggery went to the police station. He walked quickly and purposefully through the streets until he was at the door, and didn't bother to knock before going in. The false face he was wearing looked grim, but the eyes - usually vaguely unfocused - were clear and intent.

C: Wild card!

[Visits, messages, or attempts to contact Skulduggery will all be answered. Replies to anything involving the console might not happen right away, but Skulduggery won't leave anything waiting longer than a day.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Quickly was an understatement. Even Kenspeckle Grouse hadn't been able to heal broken ribs nearly so quickly, and he'd chosen branches of magic specifically designed to heal. Whatever Raine said, it was impressive.

Skulduggery eyed the bright blue shadows still curling around the darkened floor and tried to ignore the memory gently tugging at his consciousness. The memory which, he was fairly sure, would allow him to answer Raine's question in Wreath's stead, but which took a little too much finesse to access just then. He used the wall to straighten himself up, but otherwise stayed quiet, and worked internally on regaining that finesse.

"I summoned my ka," Solomon answered simply, watching the drift of glowing blue mist intertwine within the shadows until the shadows themselves were pearlescent grey. For a moment he teetered on the edge of telling them the other part, about his name--but he was still shaken by the implications of it, and would sooner pretend it had never happened.

"The trouble with this is that I'm not sure how to unsummon it." Even as he spoke the mist was fading. There wasn't any overt shift in power; it was just as though the monster had realised it was no longer needed and faded away before Solomon could even see whether this was its true form or some kind of side-effect.

Either way, within moments the shadows were shadows, and the butterflies still resting on Skulduggery's bones were black once more.

Till Keeliai Raine's artes had seen the most use on the battlefield, where seconds in casting made the difference between a living friend and a dead one. Impressive it might be to others, but it had ceased to register with her beyond its absolute necessity.

"Your ka?" Raine repeated, intrigued. She was familiar with the concept, but it had seemed more Bakura's area of expertise, and she hadn't expected it here. "How did you manage that?" At least it seemed he'd managed to dismiss it, even as he asked the question, and she watched the mist dissipate with a little disappointment.

"I should let Anton know of our success, as well," she added a little belatedly, and looked between Solomon and Skulduggery again. Both were... probably fine for now, or at least no longer in immediate danger. It should be safe enough to leave the two of them, though perhaps neither one alone.

So Anton was downstairs. Skulduggery didn't know if that fact helped or hindered. Helped, because it meant no one had leaped into this headlong without expecting the worst - though he hadn't exactly needed any more confirmation of that. Hindered because Anton hadn't joined them up here, and because Skulduggery could distinctly remember feeling the Gist-user's life force mere minutes before, warm and flickering in the cold embrace of death magic.

He tried not to think about it. There were many things he tried not to think about.

Skulduggery was tearing my soul apart and I happened to talk with it on the way seemed like too much of an accusation, so Solomon said simply, "Necromancy works with souls. I needed an extra bit of power from mine."

Ah. Yes. Shudder. Solomon straightened, brushing off his clothes. "Yes, bring him up. He'll want to stay here for a time, I imagine."

Solomon's being was aching and he would have liked to get out, but if Shudder didn't come up then he would have to keep Skulduggery company. That didn't seem particularly palatable right now, even with the lessened presence Skulduggery was now casting.

For the simplicity of the explanation Raine gave Solomon a thoughtful look for an extra moment, but all she said was "Hm," and nodded. "All right." With that she headed for the stairs down, lingering only briefly in the room's doorway as if one final glance over the two of them could ensure that neither would get into more trouble than they already had.

Skulduggery very much doubted Anton would want to stay for long, but he didn't say so out loud. Nor did he stop Raine from leaving, although he could have sworn it made something dark within him stir. He watched his hands to make sure the shadow-gauntlets didn't appear, though he would have known if they had without looking, and refused to admit even to himself that the little shadow-butterflies refusing to flutter away were comforting beyond words.

He didn't speak first, but part of him hoped Solomon would.

Solomon didn't, and when Anton came upstairs the gist-user gave barely a glance in the Necromancer's reaction, or his leaving the room. Anton's attention was on Skulduggery. "Were you aware," he said after a careful moment, "that you're covered in butterflies?"

Had that been an accident, or had Wreath put them there on purpose? Anton wouldn't have expected it of the man, but then again, he was petty.

Anton's question met with silence, during which the shadow-butterflies continued to flutter without fading, even though Wreath had left the room. It was difficult to tell whose power was fueling them now; Wreath created them, but Skulduggery wouldn't have been surprised if his own instability and need for normalcy was helping to keep them around.

"No," he eventually said. "Not in the slightest. Thank you for informing me."

It was sarcasm, and it was bitter sarcasm. But it was, in Skulduggery's opinion, better than apathy.

"You're quite welcome," said Anton, unmoved by the bitterness in the sarcasm. As far as he was concerned, he agreed that it was better than apathy. It indicated Skulduggery was, indeed, present. Without further hesitation Anton moved deeper into the room and found the armchair, and sat down.

"I've been considering some changes to the Hotel," he said briskly, reaching into his pocket and removing some folded papers, which he now opened. "Obviously, I've already made some amendments to the front-door, but the upstairs floors aren't friendly to larger-sized residents, particularly the turtle hatchlings. Most of the rooms will have to remain the same, but some of the larger could have their doors widened for greater ease of entry."

It was true, he'd been making considerations. He hadn't come to any conclusions about them, but he'd been making them. Right now talking about those considerations was more important than having them.

OPEN | BUT WITH STIPULATIONS | CATCH-ALL

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject