Re: A Mournful Loss

[Richard Wallace]

It was such a glum sight. In the dim light, the craggy outline of the piled-up remains of the tower reminded Richard of a huge, slumbering monster with spines on its back, only waiting to wake and devour them all. A few specks of dust-like snow slowly drifted down to the floor from the hole high up above, perhaps rustled by some sleepless seagull. Noticing something that looked like a piece of shattered furniture of some sort, Richard realized that now even the location of that strange evening spent with Kale was but a memory. How quickly time passed.

Taken with his melancholic thoughts, Richard chose to ignore the short answer. His gaze was drawn to the librarian as he moved within his field of vision, and he observed the plantperson, quite curious as to what was he going to do. The mumbled words further dampened his spirits. Honestly, sometimes having good hearing was a curse.

He could scoff, pretend he was offended, try and convince Tony that even suggesting such a thing was preposterous. But he was tired of lying.
"As you may have gathered, Mr. Sharp," he said slowly. "I am not wont to caring too much. I wouldn't be living as I am if I was." He took a few steps forward, leaning down to pick a broken fragment of stone and examine it. "However, that does not mean I do not care at all. I care... as much as it is expected of me, I suppose."

[Tony Sharp]

Though his fingers slid into the tiny cracks o search around, though he peered into the nooks that would easily be missed by the outside eye, there was nothing that Tony seemingly uncovered. After climbing about the dump, he finally simply gave up, tapping his fingers against a broken floorboard.

All the while, Richard had been speaking, to which he gave him a curious peer. A noise like a 'tss' escaped him as he shook his head. Strangely enough, he wasn't as disappointed as he thought he'd be - his hopes had not been high in the first place. His honesty was perhaps the only redeeming quality he saw in his words.

"If it aids your cause, I was expecting very little. In fact, I see you as quite the careless person." He started to sweep at the floor with his fingers, as if generating a clean patch was somehow contributing. "I suppose with a lifetime as grand as yours, this is hardly a bother, no?" There were a few gaspy chirps as he made an attempt to replicate a laugh - an entirly humourless one. "Do you enjoy living a lie, or is it something you find necessary?"

[Richard Wallace]

It seemed that the librarian wasn't doing much of anything, other than just idly scanning through the library's remains, as if he had wanted to make sure if was not a mere illusion. Richard felt a little bit of sympathy for him, and it was not entirely extinguished as the librarian spoke, as impolite as his words were. Honestly, it seemed he was a bit hysterical.

There was not much of a reason for Richard to avoid talking about those matters with Tony. If anything, Richard could try to convince him of his harmlessness, of his good intentions. But the passive-aggressive attitude the librarian was displaying made him roll his eyes, dropping the rock back onto the pile. Strange, how differently and with more understanding Tony had acted when they were connected; it seemed that it was due to how the link itself worked. Curious. Regardless, right now Richard was hardly inclined towards continuing the subject.

"Sometimes the higher good is more important than the truth, Mr. Sharp." he said in a peaceful tone, not wanting to seem like he was bothered in the least, not even if all he felt was mild impatience. "Now, seeing how eager you are to talk about me, despite aforementioned bother, it pains me to say that I will have to entertain you with conversation on some other occasion. There is debris to be cleaned, you see." He took a small, courteous bow. "Please call me when you wish to ascend the stairs." Then, turning away, he started collecting and arranging a portion of the pieces of stone, wood and assorted junk to be carried out within his bag, hoping he had sent sent a message clear enough.

[Tony Sharp]

As much as Tony wanted to answer back, to demand an elaboration and capture his attention once again, he reluctantly resisted, snapping his jaws shut before he could give himself the chance to. "...Very well," he quite simply said, politely dipping his head towards the vampire, before returning his focus to the matters currently at hand.

He twisted away, pushing from the heap to return to the floor, glancing once in Richard's direction, as if to check that he really was helping to tidy, before tottering towards some other unsorted pile.
That is, until something brushed by his heel.

Awkwardly halting, he squinted down at the sheet on the floor. It was crumpled and torn, but there was some text that was visible beneath the obvious damage. His eyes traced over the cursive writing, the odd symbols and scribbles diagrams. Then they widened with recognition.

"Oh... No..."
He crouched down, carefully sliding the sheet into his hands, tentative that even the slightest touch would ruin it. "No... no..." Had it all been for nothing?
He cringed his eyes shut, before bowing his head lowly. He didn't move after that.

[Richard Wallace]

As he lifted a plank that used to be part of a table, Richard discovered a mass of shattered glass. Mindlessly, he prodded at the shards with his shoe, before realizing that they had to be the remains of beakers, test tubes, and various other equipment of the science teacher's, and consequently taking a big step back. Hell only knew what potions had the witch been brewing in her tower...

Hearing the whisper, Richard turned around, while sweeping his hands across his trousers as if they had been contaminated already. As he saw the pathetically hunched-down figure, he thought was that the sight of the library had probably proven too much for the convalescent's nerves and he had passed out. Approaching quickly, he tried to see if Tony's eyes were closed, and instead noticed the paper in his hands. "Are you... alright?" he asked, while curiously squinting at the peculiar writing. That didn't seem like the fragment of any book...

[Tony Sharp]

It was almost as if the counsellor's words had no effect at all. The librarian remained crouched lowly with his head bowed, barely touching the crumpled sheet. On closer observation, it could be seen that he was shivering. He could scarcely hold the paper steady. Fingers curled more tightly around it 'til the point that it began to crumple. His breath hissed through his slightly parted jaws, before his eyes snapped open, wide. He stared down at the sheet.
He recalled just how much effort he'd gone through just to keep it safe.
The teamwork, the desperation.
Haha.

Viney fingers began to constrict the paper, strangling it of life. Then they pulled, causing a tear right through the centre of it, 'til it split into two. Rapid gasps escaped him, shuddering his entire body - it seemed entirely uncertain whether it were chokes of laughter or outright sobbing. Each half was further crushed in his clutch as he slowly raised it towards his gaping jaws.

His teeth clamped down on paper and hands alike. There was a sickening crunch and a muffled crumple as they closed shut, straining slightly as he arched his head back. His hands - or, what was left of them - pulled away, leaving wriggling stubs and half deformed hands. Dismembered fingers poked out of his mouth like spider's legs, coupled with shredded, soggy scraps of paper.

Head turned slowly towards Richard, as if only just noticing his presence. Eyes were alight with a sort of frantic madness. He said nothing - not that he could say anything.

[Richard Wallace]

His brow creased. It appeared to be hand-written script of some sort... perhaps the first draft of a book...? While the librarian didn't reply, up close Richard could see, much to his relief, that the plantperson was shaking slightly. So, he was alive, at least. It would be no good to be the only witness of a staff member's untimely demise. He leaned in closer to try and read what was it that Tony was despairing over so.

Before he could decipher any of the writing in the dim light, though, the paper began to crumple. Richard raised an eyebrow, silently watching the vines rending the sheet in two as the strange creature trembled. Okay, now Tony was certainly hysterical. Slowly, Richard reached a hand in his direction, wanting to either put it on Tony's shoulder to anchor him to reality or shake him back to his senses. The plan was quickly abandoned, and Richard reeled back with a stifled gasp. Surely he couldn't have--? It must have been a trick of the light... But his reassurances ended up powerless when Tony turned to face him, the proof of his deed sticking out of his vertical, monstrous jaw. With a look of utter, flabbergasted revulsion on his face, Richard took a rapid step back. "Y-you--" he choked out. "Why would you..." Shaking his head slowly in disbelief, eyes wide open, he clamped a hand over his mouth, clutching the elbow with the other hand.
"You could have used a shredder." he mumbled.

[Tony Sharp]

Why would you…
The question rung in Tony’s head. Why? WHY? A stifled moan escaped him as he clutched his head with the stubs of his hands. Slumping to the floor, he writhed, cowering miserably. From his agonised whines and desperate glances, it was clear that he was trying to communicate something… something that was beyond any facial expression he could pull, or any words he could muster

Eyes shutting again, his body convulsed violently before he threw his head forwards, jaws opening wide to hack up the fingers and the shredded sheet all over the floor – all of which were doused in thick globs of digestive acids. He wheezed, staring down at the mess, his hand hovering over it, as if unable to believe what he'd done.

"Wh... why would I do that..." he finally uttered, not removing his gaze from the floor. "I could just as easily bring ruin with my own actions..."
"I c-c..could..."
His breath fluctuating, he curled up tightly, bowing his head between his trembling knees, arms wrapping around himself. There was no aim nor purpose in the posture - just madness.

[Richard Wallace]

Seconds seemed to drag on and on as he stood still, transfixed by the appealing sight before him. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't look away. That... thing... that mandrake root, flailing over the floor, squealing and regurgitating its own body parts it had chewed off moments before... it was just too much. Richard's arms dropped to his sides as he took a step back. A sick joke. That's all it was.

His expression turning to something of an angry bitterness, he gave the writhing creature a disdainful scowl as he swept his palms over his trousers again. Even if it was to take Tony all night to climb the stairs, Richard would not be touching him again.

"I'm done here." he said, less to Tony than to the entire castle itself as he turned around and made for the exit. He walked quickly, determinedly, wasting no time.

Like a man who had made a decision.

[Tony Sharp]

It was like he was caught in a haze. A blurry, disorientating smog, the world swirling around him like a cauldron's mixture, tainted by the darkness of malicious witchcraft, seizing and choking his mind. He was hardly aware of his own self, his own hands clutching his face, his own wretched sobs. He was alone in this senseless universe.

His head raised as the other voice spoke, snapping back to reality.
Richard was leaving.
He caught only a quick glimpse of his back before he disappeared past the double doors. "No..." He reached lamely, as if a vague, quiet murmur could surely bring him back. This time, he was well and truly by himself. There was no soul to share his suffering, but perhaps it was better that way. A disgrace he'd been. A wreck.

Sitting backwards, he crossed his legs, forcing himself to calm down. He looked towards the gaping ceiling, and at the night sky that shimmered above.

A sigh escaped him.
Alone.

...Maybe he didn't need to be.

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