entrancelogs | [event log CLOSED] sharpest teeth on the block

Entry tags:

[event log CLOSED] sharpest teeth on the block

Who: D'Artagnan and Susan, Daryl, Crowley, Clara and Claire
Where: around the mansion!
When: the second and third days of the event
Rating: M FOR MATURE
Summary: D'Artagnan can also definitely handle this. (Only marginally better than Annie)
The Story:

The first day hadn't been difficult. It was filled with incessant howling and trying to keep Faraday from running into the woods. He'd finally managed to get her holed up in the room to keep her safe, and made his way around the mansion. The end of the day was spent defending and helping Chell as she set up traps for the impending attackers. (Wolves? Or hounds, perhaps. D'Artagnan wasn't sure, but the howling was unsettling enough that he wasn't sure he wanted to know either way.)

He went to bed that night with his doors and windows barricaded securely, hoping it was enough to keep them out.

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Clinic, think there's a few people closer to the top that're watchin' the diner.

[Unless the hounds know how to work explosivies, because he's pretty sure that's what he's hearing from a few floors up. ...He should probably look into that eventually. Don't need no accidents.]

Last time I was up there they looked pretty secure... Gonna wanna bring 'em up some more firepower eventually though. [He heads in the direction of the stairs, noting the blood smeared in seemingly random places across the floor. Nasty.] You up here lookin' for stragglers too, or what?

[He grimaces at the blood smeared along the floor. Entirely unfortunate, but he's glad the bodies of the things aren't invisibly lining the halls.]

Yes, I planned to escort those who may have needed it. I believe the majority of our residents are untrained in basic defensive methods.

[Which is why he's been trying to train those he can, though he's not sure how well it's worked.]

I wish there were a better way to know what to expect, though that's asking too much of this place.

[That'd been his plan, too. He likes you, kid.]

Thinkin' the warning we got for this one's the best we're gonna get. [As they reach the next floor down's landing, he jerks his head at the sword.] You're the one offerin' the lessons for those, right?

[The narration is glad to hear it. In any case, he glances down at his sword and nods, wiping it off on his pants. What? They'll need cleaning anyway.]

Yes, I am. Did you express interest in lessons? [He remembers one man who'd only responded in text. Daryl, he thinks the name was, but he never saw his face.]

[He ain't judgin'. You don't even wanna know the level of scum that exists on Daryl's pants...]

Yeah. Ribs were jacked up at the time but it seems like somethin' worth pickin' up. [He peers down a nearby hallway, and after a short pause while he listens for signs of any more beasts, he continues:] Still interested if you got the time after all this's through.

[The more weapons he can use the better, honestly.]

[D'Artagnan's been here long enough that most of the colloquial language has sunk in, but sometimes, when someone says something like 'jacked up' it takes him a moment to process. You'll need to bear with him.

...

And here we are.]

You were injured? In an event, I'm sure. [Right, okay, now that that's over with.]

I believe we'll all have the time, won't we?

[Sorry, kid, Daryl's not the most eloquent of backwoods redneck walker stompers.]

Yeah, guess you could say that. [He's not gonna mention the fact that it technically wasn't so much the event as it was his temper and a particularly obnoxious Mirror....] And you're right, we got nothin' but time here. Least when this shit's not goin' down.

[It's taking some... Adjusting. Some days he's almost content to sit on his ass.

For a few hours at least.]

Still interested, anyway.

[It's fine, D'Artagnan's a bit of a country bumpkin himself.]

Yes, the lulls between these events get boring, don't they?

[D'Artagnan nods.]

Contact me when this is done, and we can set up an appointment.

Don't seem right to think about it like that when we're stuck in the middle of this, but... Yeah. Sucks. [He frowns. Sitting idle is at the top of the list of things that make him twitch. Gotta keep busy...] That sounds good though, yeah. Couldn't hurt.

[At the very least it'll give his ass something to do that's actually productive.

He heads down the hall and stops suddenly at the wall of rank, stale air that hits him in the face. Not good. Not good at all.] Wait--

[D'Artagnan hardly finds anything appropriate to talk about in a time like this, so he compensates by speaking of everything. It's a fault, truly.

He nods when Daryl agrees, and opens his mouth to respond, but it seems as if the other man has spotted something. Or felt it? D'Artagnan's a bit behind, so he can't sense it yet, but he raises an eyebrow.]

Something wrong? [His hand tightens on the hilt of his blade.]

[Daryl holds up a hand, a silent command for... More silence. He narrows his eyes at the end of the hall- as if he can actually see shit- and after a moment, drops his hand.]

You smell that? Think we got one.

[He's keeping his voice low, but as soon as he speaks there's a low, wet, snuffling sound from somewhere down the hall. Hard to know where exactly it's coming from, though; fucking echo...] Could be more.

They're blockin' the damn stairs.

[D'Artagnan's been in enough situations similar to this that Daryl's hand movements are familiar to him. He stays quiet, nodding at Daryl's words.

And the snuffling begins. It sounds like only one to D'Artagnan, but he doesn't trust his ears or this place well enough to feel comfortable saying it.

When he speaks, he pitches his voice low, like Daryl.]

Do you think they've noticed us?

[The surprise advantage is always a good thing to have.]

Could be. We're still standin' but I can hear 'em movin' around down there...

[He's been at this for the better part of the event, and has made it out (mostly) unscathed... But that doesn't mean he's about to start getting reckless now.] How you wanna handle this?

[He has his methods, but if there's a better idea than making enough noise to lure them over and hope they're loud enough to get a fix on their positions, he's all ears. It isn't so much a test as it is... Brainstorming? It's a little too corporate for his taste, but it'll do.]

[Reckless is D'Artagnan's middle name, but the gashes that Daryl's sporting really don't inspire much hope in that way of thinking. He's also not very good at strategy, but...]

I suppose if we could sneak into a room unnoticed, we may be able to get some sort of...explosive device? From a closet. It should be contained, yes?

[The only thing D'Artagnan knows for sure is to never chase an enemy down a dead end. Sneak attacks are always more fun, aren't they?]

[You damn kids...

Although if one were to take a closer look at the current situation, Daryl's the one with the injury, so... He can't really say shit about that.]

Yeah, seems like the closets're workin' just fine this time around... Know I heard something like that go off upstairs a little while ago so it's an option...

[He gestures toward a nearby door, just a few feet into the hall.] Gonna go for that one, you wanna cover me in case I trip over one of them things?

[He's really, truly hoping to... Not do that. But just in case...]

Cover you? No problem.

[D'Artagnan peers down the hallway toward the door, and back to the stairs, positioning himself in a good middle ground. He holds his sword at the ready, nodding to Daryl.]

Go. You should be fine.

[Daryl offers a quick nod and then he's off, weapon ready but lowered as he makes his way to the door as quickly as possible.

It goes smoothly, or as smoothly as sneaking past an invisible hell beast can go, and aside from a low growl it would appear that the creatures either haven't noticed him or don't see him as worth gunning for just yet. He'll take it.

Once he reaches the door he peeks around it (at nothing, because, well... Invisible) and as soon as he's satisfied that the time is right, waves the kid over.

All things considered, this really isn't that much different from what he's got going on at home... Now there's a comfort...]

[D'Artagnan splits the few tense moments by listening down the hall for any change in the beasts' movements and watching Daryl for any sign of distress. He moves quickly and efficiently when signaled to and slips past him, into the room.

He moves toward the closet, thinking of some sort of incendiary device. Let's hope it works.]

[Daryl, too, is thinking of explosives... Though they're probably a bit more advanced than the ones D'artagnan has in mind. The first thing he pulls out is a pair of smoke bombs; he doesn't know how effective they'll be, but in his experience it's best to have too many options, not too few...

They'd come in pretty handy at that town, at any rate, even if he had gotten his ass caught anyway. He passes one over to the kid.]

Here. You know how to work those?

[He doesn't know this kid, but judging from his clothes and manner of speech- and his choice in weapons- there's a bit of a... Historical gap, here.

That's a new one for Daryl, not that he's gonna let it become a distraction.]

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[event log CLOSED] sharpest teeth on the block

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