[Caidryn]

"Oho.... So it's finally come to this at last. I had wondered how long all of you would let things continue."

Beato straightened up from her spot near the fireplace and moved to join the others in the room, a look of mischief dancing its way onto her face. The severe smile now having taken its rightful place, she spoke in a voice entirely too merry for the scene at hand.

"I did say I would not reveal the identity of the murderer, so long as my life wasn't threatened. However, there should be no problem if the killer reveals their own identity, right? So allow me to help in this investigation a bit. First Norriston. Then Sullivan, should the need still be apparent.

Norriston, if you do not speak and tell us of your adventures within the manor in honesty, you will find yourself unable to breathe."

Despite her words, she made no move to raise her revolver or the like. It was as if she believed the words themselves would suffice.

This post has been edited by Caidryn: 02 March 2013 - 03:23 PM

[Holy Dragoon]

I will not stand by and let this insane idea come to pass. The Lord has done no wrong and I think that you are being rather crass.


The major general made no sudden movement, but he did halt his jolly march and abruptly perform an about turn in order to face the conversation.

[Hellbreaker]

Hale lowered his gun, pointing it at the floor. "Maybe holding someone at gun point is uncalled for, but Erika suspects Norriston here has something to hide." he said, not lifting his eyes from the still silent man.

[Celebel]

Norriston's eyes dart about between the knife, shotgun, and crazy "witch" before he stops drooling and shrugs his shoulders.

"I honestly haven't left this room once, except to sample the taste of the local hardware nails (which were so awful I had to spit them out). And I'm quite sure that if I had been traveling about, the halls would have echoed and reverberated with the epic sounds of my adventure."

Without waiting for a reply, he then tilts his head back and proceeds to begin drooling once more, gargling in the process until another threatening question presents itself.

[Holy Dragoon]

The Major general simply nods at the Lord's drooling response.

[Tuj]

"I see... that's quite unfortunate, there are many things to appreciate within these halls; Master Thorne amassed quite a collection, I imagine an adventurer as renowned yourself would take great interest in such things."

At that, Erika finally allowed her eyes to close. For whatever reason, she decided not to press the man further... for the moment. Instead, when those dark, hateful globes unveiled once more, though their focus had shifted to another potential victim.

"Be that as it may, I'm afraid I must attend to another of our guests... Major General Sullivan... forgive my lack of originality, but I'd like to pose to you the same question. Has your visit to Stonebriar been enjoyable?"

This post has been edited by Tuj: 02 March 2013 - 05:13 PM

[LokiOathbreaker]

Jeremiah took of his lamp, blinking in confusion. Clearly he had been sleeping underneath, using it as a convenient way to keep the light from his eyes once the prank had been delivered! Ever practical, he was! A true paragon of businessman-ship!

And being such a paragon, he knew when to keep his snide remarks and general superiority on the down-low, considering there were currently several heavily armed and, apparently, violent people under high stress, tensions running high.

Perhaps taking to the wild outside would have been the smarter move, after all.

[Holy Dragoon]

The Major General pauses at the question. He debated many things during that pause, such as why on earth there are so many scantily clad women Stonebriar, or why on earth were his pants down in the first place, or why do the chairs look so comfy?

Without an answer to his personal issues, he responded in his usual rhythmic method. He raised and lowered his sword as he spoke, occasionally swiping it to and fro, match the words that left his mouth.

Miss I certainly do wish to tell you a mighty crazy tale, one that challenges the feats of our very own chef Hale.
You can rest assure my tale is more eventful than Mr Norriston, it may even give you the impression that I've tangled in a lime fountain.
I wandered round this place and muddled in the Lord's Study, I read a book and swear it was like that time I took the long ferry.
I danced the dance of manly men with Yorrick and his crazy jig. I know you saw the encore since you were awed by this man's top shindig.
Without a care I kissed a man,
once did a stint inside Japan,
dropped my pants like a madman,
then grabbed some coal where we began,
to finally form a General's plan.


At the end of it all he took the piece of coal, and began drawing.... a map?

Now if you would kindly help me Miss, I might need a hand in drawing this.
Since I am a modern major general.

This post has been edited by Holy Dragoon: 04 March 2013 - 07:40 PM

[Tuj]

At this, Erika... smiled. However, though lips contorted into a visage of mirth, none of it reached those darkened eyes, creating a truly eery spectacle.

"I do believe you misunderstand me, Mr. Sullivan. As I find my patience drawing somewhat thin, I'll be quite frank: I am of a mind that fault for several... unsavory... incidents within recent memory can be traced back to one of two men. As it were, these men would be yourself, Major General Gilbert Sullivan..." she made a slight gesture toward the robust man drooling ever more upon the sofa, "... and our mutual acquaintance, Lord Charles Norriston."

As usual, her voice remained entirely calm, as though accusations of murder were as a simple greeting, just another small, pleasant ritual to undergo in everyday speech.

"I am also of a mind to demand reparations for such events. Unfortunately, due to the situation, I am afraid blood will be the only acceptable currency."

Again the corners of her mouth moved, forming what might have been seen as an apologetic simper under other circumstances, yet now was only mocking.

"I hope you understand."

This post has been edited by Tuj: 06 March 2013 - 06:17 AM

[Celebel]

"Now now Miss, there's no need to cause strife.
It's awful hard to think when you threaten with a knife!"

Sullivan's eyes dart back and forth manically between Erika and the last known location of one of her knives. When his cheerful little rhyme does nothing to alter her countenance, the Major-General starts to appear genuinely worried for the first time.

"Oh blast..."

A number of small gasps leap up from around the room. He didn't rhyme!

"Nononono! I mean um... It-it was neither of us.... I swear...?
The murderer shan't be found among this... pair!"

The military man's pleas, however, no longer avail him as Erika decides his recent break of rhyming prose is proof enough of his guilt and charges him. Her arm sweeps by in a deadly arc, only to be stopped with a sudden clang as the Major-General draws his sabre and blocks the attack.

"I'm telling you, you crazy woman, it wasn't me! Stop it!"

He's stopped rhyming yet again, clearly he must be guilty! Blood must be paid! Kill!

The second knife comes out, a surprise attack that disarms the man and sends his defensive blade flying off to the side. Without the sword, he is defenseless and the first knife dives forward...

Only to stop short as Erika finds her arms pinned to her sides in the bear-like grapple of Lord Charles Norriston (who thankfully stopped drooling). His grip is quite unbreakable, but clearly conveys that his intend is merely to restrain, and not to harm the head maid. Just to be on the safe side, he also lifts her about a foot off the ground, accidentally creating an almost comical scene as she kicks and struggles futilely against his python-like arms in an attempt to free herself.

"Now hold on a moment Miss Carver, don't you think you're overreacting just a tad? I mean how can ya be so sure it's one of us anyway?"

Meanwhile, Kelly makes her way over towards where Kenneth is standing with Amy close by. Almost briskly, she approaches the chef.

"Sorry about this Kenneth."

Whereupon she brings her knee sharply to the unsuspecting man's groin, grabbing the shotgun from his unresisting hands as he slowly drops to the floor. Amy stoops to check and make sure he's alright while Kelly then marches to the center of the room, and purposefully fires a round into the ceiling.

That gets everyone's attention nicely. Erika even stops struggling against Norriston for a moment as the large man slowly lowers her to the floor. Spinning around to make sure everyone can just how serious she is (and the slight twitch of unhinged crazy that's started to creep in), Kelly then shouts at the room in general.

"Stop it! All of you just shut up and stop it! Now someone here is lying, and they've killed so many people, and I am not going to let them get away with killing anyone else! Miss Carver if you're so sure of who it is, then tell us why... Then we can blow their brains out, alright?"

Simurgh suddenly jumps up at the prospect of trial by mob and points his finger accusingly.

"OBJECT-"

The remainder of his objection is drowned out in the blast of the shotgun as the vase a few inches to his left disintegrates in a shower of porcelain shrapnel. Having made her point that she is taking no arguments at the moment, Kelly then proceeds to reload the weapon, presumably with ammunition she "borrowed" from Kenneth as well. To emphasize her seriousness, she levels the shotgun at the other occupants of the room, one at a time, making sure everyone has a chance to stare down the barrels just long enough to start feeling really uncomfortable.

"Now then, does anyone have anything they'd like to say?"

The Grand Hall falls eerily silent for several long seconds. And then, almost on cue, everyone begins to talk. At once. Each voice desperately trying to avow the unhinged young maid of their own innocence while simultaneously condemn whoever they currently deem the most suspicious. The general sound level quickly rises to a raucous din as a dozen or so people are trying to shout over each other to make sure their case is heard.



(more later)

[Celebel]

As the arguing continues, a very different shouting tone suddenly makes itself known among the noise.

"What, you again?! I thought I already dealt with you lot before!"

The strangeness of this comment, makes several of the group turn towards the source. Jeremiah Fox appears to be shouting at a nearby wall...

"Is it money you want, eh? You greedy little urchins don't know when to quit, but if humoring you will rid me of your nuisance, I suppose I must!"

He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a moneyclip, which he proceeds to fling at the wall while backing away. After a few seconds, fear begins to edge into Jeremiah's voice as he begins more actively backing away.

"There! There's your money! Now leave me be! It's not as I'm responsible for you after all, it's just business!"

But the man's protests fall on deaf ears as the imagined ghosts of orphans begin to encircle him.

By now, everyone else in the room is staring in horrified confusion as the man seems to suffer a mental breakdown. When he reaches the center of the room and spins around, seemingly surrounded by his unseen enemy, he pulls at the handle of his cane, withdrawing a long narrow blade previously hidden in the stick.

"I said get back!"

He spins around once or twice, sweeping at the empty air with the weapon defensively. The orphan ghosts stop, for a moment, before taking another step forward.

"Back!"

This time the specters halt, but Jeremiah is trapped in a ring of them. He turns, fear creeping into his face, as he watches for the first sign of movement among the horrors of guilt that plague his mind. Suddenly, his expression changes to one of utter terror as he seems to notice something new approaching from beyond the immediate "threat".

"No... Good Lord, not you as well! What does it take to get rid of you?! Was killing you not enough?! When will you finally cease to be a bloody thorn in my bloody side?!"

His head snaps to the side, as if he's just noticed someone else arrive.

"And you! You knew too much! You understand, I couldn't just leave you free to talk with what you knew!"

Fox spins around as if to ward off the presence of another assailant.

"You! You were in the wrong place at the wrong time! You saw too much! If you hadn't been there, I wouldn't have had to do it! You too! Far too clever for your own good, but not clever enough to think I'd come from the other direction!"

The man's become completely hysterical now, but the entire scene is so bizarre that the onlookers find themselves doing nothing but staring in an almost trancelike state. Also nobody really wants to get near such an unstable person so long as he's erratically swinging that sword around.

"And then y- " Fox suddenly halts mid-rant and looks around confusedly, as if he expected to see something but is now missing it. His eyes focus momentarily, causing him to appear coherent for the first time since his outburst started, and his gaze falls on Alice.

"You...."

His voice is still stricken with fear, but now carries an edge of menace as he finds the unconscious form of the maid lying on the couch. Heedless to the presence of those in the room, and apparently unbothered by the visions that have afflicted him, he takes a step forward, only to be stopped suddenly by a load groaning creak coming from above.

Jeremiah isn't the only one to hear that. In fact everyone heard it quite clearly. A brief moment of silence passes before a second ominous groaning is heard, causing people to slowly look up towards the ceiling in confusion. What was up there that could be making that sound again...?

Oh yes, that's right. Chandelier.

The large construct creaks horribly, sounding more like a lowing beast than a piece of furniture. As Fox's gaze sweeps upward towards it, a sharp cracking snap echoes through the hall as the chandelier begins its descent. It's anyone's guess as to what caused it fall in the first place; perhaps it was the shot fired by Kelly earlier, perhaps faulty construction or maintenance, perhaps it was divine punishment, or maybe sabotage which came to fruition at a late but hilariously appropriate time. Ultimately, the reasons as to why the chandelier is falling are not nearly so important as the fact that it is now falling. And for Jeremiah Fox, even this fact is not nearly as pertinent as the fact that, at this precise moment, he is standing directly underneath it.

The chandelier drops down with terrifying momentum, faster than anyone can react. Fox opens his mouth, and for the briefest moment, a cry of defiance seems to try making itself heard before being lost in the tremendous crash as metal meets the stone tiles of the floor and smashes clear through them.

In the aftermath of the fall, a large crater, filled with rubble and twisted chunks of metal, dominates the center of the room. There is no trace of Fox among the debris, save for some small quantities of blood staining various spots of the wreck. It looks as though the bulk of the chandelier fell through the floor into the old foundations of the manor, and his body is likely lost somewhere down there, if not crushed utterly beyond all recognition...

(and go)

[Hellbreaker]

Standing on his feet was out of question but the sudden eruption of chaos surrounding him allowed the chef to keep his attention on other matters than pain. For now at least.
A clear mix of surprise, shock and confusion took over Hale as his face slowly manifested these expressions in some macabre mess that failed to display any of them over the course of the passing moments before the chandelier falling and Jeremiah vanishing with it.

Kenneth made a few slow movements, turning his head between the newly formed crater the head maid, Alice and Amy in seemingly random patterns. Slowly he stopped and rested his eyes on Amy before allowing himself a few pained words.
"Do-you... Mm... You think?"

[Tuj]

Erika wasn't entirely certain what to make of the situation. Had she been wrong? Had she just tried to hurt, even kill, innocent people? The delusions Mr. Fox lost himself in were tantamount to a confession of guilt, and what he said certainly fell in line with the murders... but how had she overlooked him?

As ever more questions and feelings of guilt and confusion swirled in the woman's head, the adrenaline quieting in her system left her listless, and were Lord Norriston not still gripping her arm, it felt as though she'd collapse, legs lacking the strength to carry the burden of her conscience.

Of course, wracked as she was by those thoughts, even wishing nothing more than to fall limp and abandon the whirlpool to dreaming... but that would serve no good. Though the killer seemed to be dead, there were still matters to attend to, and it was not impossible that another would, or had, donned the mantle to take advantage of the confusion. Until the authorities had arrived, and perhaps past even then, until all the guests... and Yorick... went their separate ways, caution needed to be taken.

That... and there was something else that bore looking in to...

Breathing deeply, Ms. Carver righted herself, though many might wonder if her previous posture was in any way 'wrong', and used her free hand (which no longer appeared to be holding a knife), to fetch her spectacles from the pocket she had deposited them in earlier, slid them back into place atop her nose, and sighed. Audibly, this time.

[Caidryn]

"So... it's finally over. Perhaps the curse was real after all..."

A quiet voice rose from near the fireplace, where Beatrice had been sitting when Fox had met his end. She stood up from the floor, her face no longer wearing the cracked and masklike grin. Instead, written plainly on her face, there was only relief. A few tears dripped heavily from her eyes, though she seemed unaware of it. She walked in a slow, unsteady manner to the nearest chair and sat into it, before raising her feet from the ground and wrapping her arms around her knees, huddling into a ball.

"I don't need to worry that I'll be killed anymore. It's over... this dream can end now. I've had enough of this, all of this. Enough bloodshed... Enough death.... I want to wake up. I want to go home."

Her words same quietly, just above a whisper, seemingly only speaking to herself. Her form in the chair now resembled a puppet whom's strings had been cut. She had been held up by the tension before, wore a brave face as a mask to hide her own fear. None of that was necessary anymore.

As she sat, she quickly fell to slumber in the chair she had chosen. It had been a long night, and the combined physical and mental fatigue had come for her all at once.

This post has been edited by Caidryn: 31 March 2013 - 11:44 PM