[]Empty Cathedral

Spoiler:

Sarky's anxiety is quickly spiking but he tries to repress it. As a result, he finds himself staring blankly at Tiber's outstretched arm and has to rewind in order to process Tiber's words. And they stop him cold. Even the rising anxiety screeches to a temporary halt.

Sarky's eyebrows draw together. "Missing something...?" What does he remember? He can't remember much at all, actually. Family? He has to have a family -- yes, he does, but who are they, and where are they?

Sarky growls, shakes his head, breaks himself out of his temporary daze. Dogs. Right. Dogs now, memories later.

He strides over to the pulpit Tiber had been kicking at earlier and snatches up one of the stoles, then returns to Tiber to hastily wrap it around Tiber's arm and tie it off. All this is done in silence as Sarky listens intently to their surroundings. He's fairly certain at this point that yes there are dogs somewhere inside this building (and other people too, he can hear shouting, but that's of lesser importance right now). Now the question is--

Sarky freezes. Ears pricking again. Is that-- yes, it is. That is definitely a snuffling sound coming from the door through which Tiber had walked in.

Sarky shuts his thoughts up, grabs Tiber by his good arm, and-- oh my fuck that door is the only exit out of this room. He yanks Tiber along with him to look through the window again. The dogs are still out there, but they look like they're moving past and it sounds like there's blessedly distracting chaos going on outside and if they time it right there's maybe a clear spot off to the left they could sneak through.

He shoves Tiber in the direction away from the door.

"Get one of those fucking windows open," Sarky hisses. He's looking for a weapon. There's an overturned chair that looks promising but it's too damn close to the door -- oh, fuck it. Sarky starts to edge towards it.

Not that you have anything to be afraid of, he thinks to himself, sourly. Death's not entirely unwelcome. It's not like the world will miss him and he sure as hell won't miss the world, either.

Merinski's eyes widened and his frown deepened as Bob reached out toward him. "DON'T TOUCH ME," he snarled, rudely rejecting Bob's helping hand and shying away from his touch. If there was anything anyone might ever vaguely take away from meeting Merinski [other than the confirmed notion that he was a highly unpleasant individual to be around] it was this; don't touch him. He hated being touched.

The angry old goth twisted himself around, eying his wounds. "...I can attend to it myself, thank-you," he mutters, his bony fingers inspecting the cuts---

---or rather oddly, there seemed to be no real cuts to inspect. He paused, unbelieving, then checked again; yes, he was right the first time, there were no cuts. Just a tiny bit of dried blood on the back of his coat. How...very strange, Merinski thinks, making a mildly disgruntled look to himself. Stowing the strange phenomenon in the back of his mind, the man shrugs it off, and turns back to Bob; this time Merinski tries to speak to his new acquaintance with some small semblance of calm rationale.

"I know not why you are in a church...Robert, and I certainly would be quite unaware of any drinking habits you might have, or if they landed you here," he says with a quietly arrogant tone, blue eyes narrowed, glaring down his long thin nose at the other man. Judging him and his Hawaiian shirt. His color coordination. His warm smile and kind personality. But most of all that lush blonde hair that just seemed to waft there, mocking Merinski and his own limp greasy hair and most likely prematurely receding hairline. He instantly decided he loathed this man's hair. That's right, hair; I hate you now. You think you're so good, well FUCK YOU.

"In all honesty..." Merinski continued calmly, pulling himself away from his obsessive internal ramblings. Pale blue eyes flick over to meet Bob's soft green ones. "...I'm rather unsure as to why I'm here either. In a church. That seems dilapidated." He sniffs, casting a scathing look around the room, as if the surroundings themselves were responsible for his confusion and misfortune. "Stupid glass...fucking tapestries...Now if you'll excuse me Robert, I'm going to be leaving, I trust you can take care of yourself," he said coldly, honestly uncaring if the other man could take care of himself or not.

"Good day---morning, FUCKING SHIT I can't even tell," he muttered, beginning to stride away. However, as Merinski began to leave Bob alone near the trapdoor, he felt a strange sensation on the back of his neck, almost as if pressure had been applied slightly. The man sniffs, absentmindedly reaching his hand back and feeling underneath the spiked collar he wore; and he felt something very unusual indeed. It was what felt like three metallic lumps, slightly raised, and embedded into the back of his neck. For a split second he thought to tap them with one of his painted black nails, yes, they were indeed metallic, but they felt strangely---warm---

"WHAT IS THIS." The corpse-painted man ceased in mid-step, coming to an abrupt halt in his departure. His eyes were wide [well, for a moment at least; one of them twitched again almost immediately] and he bared his sharpened teeth just the tiniest bit. "WHAT IS THIS. WHAT IS THIS, WHAT IS IT I SAY," he demands loudly, whirling around and scuttling as quickly as possible back over to Bob. "There's something on my neck, FUCK IT ALL!!! What is it, WHAT IS IT, WHAT COULD IT POSSIBLY---" Merinski leans over and yanks up the back of his [limp, greasy, not as luscious as Bob's, dammit it all!!] hair, exposing the back of his neck to the other man. "It's---FUCK, underneath the collar, LOOK AT IT, WHAT IS IT, and by all that is sacred, THE LESS YOU YOU HAVE TO TOUCH ME, THE LESS I'LL FEEL THE NEED TO BLINDLY DISLIKE YOU, maybe, maybe, also, my name is Merinski, DON'T FUCKING CALL ME HARPER, DO YOU LOOK LIKE MY MOTHER, I DON'T THINK SO, SHITTTttttt. Now will you look at this thing, I can't even tell what it could be, what in the name of--of---OF FFFFFffffffff IS IT?", he finishes breathlessly, giving himself a violent smack in the face with his free hand; presumably his solution to the facial twitch.

Jask does a somersault once he reaches the top of the stairs, cleverly and carefully tucking Epic safely as he did. It is something like watching a hoop snake carrying an egg, as ungodly long as the chained man is.

There are other people here and he's lead the dog-beast-tusk-thing right to them.

He makes an alarmed-sounding popping screech which may have been a warning if he could actually speak. Upon closer inspection, though, he was very unsure if he could trust the pair with a child. A severe-looking woman and an eyeless old man...

He makes a very obviously unsure face and clicks warily, but there is no time to be startled of other people. The dumb thing is yowling and drooling its way up the stairs, quickly.

Jask's eyes dart back and forth around the room, his head snapping to follow his gaze before he finally looks up... then they widen as if he's had a great idea. He makes his chains rise, and hopes that the girl will grab onto the chandelier, thinks the image and feeling of holding onto safety itself and it hovers in the air around him. one free chain with a hook on it, looking sharp and wicked, unwinds from his chest, waving back and forth like a cobra and training on the dog. Whether this is intentional or pure reaction is impossible to tell.

Desperation fills his mind. Take the chandelier take it take it safety it's safe take it.

Cyrus may have had a head start on Noir and be keeping up his mad pace, but he certainly was feeling the burn. The essentially anorexic, alcoholic, smoker was huffing, but he had a well ingrained fear of the dogs that was propelling him forward. It wasn't enough to simply acknowledge in your head that the dogs were dangerous, even the base reaction wasn't the same if you hadn't seen them kill, hadn't felt them kill every fucking person that you-

"DOG!"

The word sent Cyrus into a panic, and his senses seemed to jump into a confusing overdrive. He heard other human footsteps for a split second before the terrible roaring and crashing dog burst out. Cyrus stumbled to a stop and tried to reverse his direction on the stairs, but the dog's heavy body tumbled down the stairs and careened into him. There wasn't enough speed behind it to roll over Cyrus and pin him beneath it, but it certainly knocked him over roughly. Fear, pure, undiluted fear, washed over him as he felt the dog's fur press against his legs. He let out a almost feral scream of fear and rage, but the sound was cut of as his fear and adrenaline and rage all balled up in his stomach began to roll up his throat. Cyrus gagged suddenly, and there was a visual bulge that traveled up his neck. It moved much quicker than one would expect and suddenly a spindly leg emerged from his mouth, followed by a small curled up bug creature. It looked painful as the bug pushed its way out of Cyrus's mouth that looked like it was about to tear in two as the creature crawled out. It fell with a splat, covered in slime that Cyrus had expelled with it. It immediately began growing and twitching as it unfolded its eight clawed legs, hissing menacingly. The dog in return began growling and shaking its head, slowly beginning to stand up.

Cyrus didn't even blink, having gone through the little more than horrifying experience a hundred times, although he was still gagging and coughing lightly. "Come on! It'll buy us some time," Cyrus said voice harsh and still gurgling a bit from the liquid in his throat and mouth. He bounded up past the the two creatures slowly finding their feet and fangs, but then turned back to Noir to wave her forward, "FUCKING HURRY!" However she felt about him he was aware of the forced co-dependence, and paused to wait for her to run past before continuing up the stairs himself.

After the somersault Epic had had just about enough of the jostling plus Jask managed to almost pop her eardrums with his sudden loud screech. By now fully intending to jump down and run on her own before she threw up, Epic wriggled out of the wrap of his chains and was about to get off when the floor began drifting away from her. She shot a look down at Jask, surprised.
"How are you DOING that-?! -oh ok I see what you're trying to-" she clambered onto the chandelier like one would expect from the tree-climbing champion, forgetting to consider it might not be stable due to the tall man's urgency. She eyed the impossible motion of the metal links at the same time- "-but it doesn't make any sense..." her voice was faltering a lot- the stress of the situation was really getting to her. She looked in the dog thing's direction, hoping to see it from this height. There really were people there and they were closer to the dog than Jask. But Jask looked really strong and they didn't and they would all have a better chance together anyways. "HEY! OVER HERE!" She called and waved to the strangers.

Bob was a little taken aback as the goth spazzed and screamed and flinched away from Bob's concerned touch. He remained seated on the floor as he watched the corpse painted man go on a tirade about something, watching with a mix of concerned, confused, and amused interest. Bob certainly caught the arrogant tone, the purposeful use of long words (dilapidated what did that even mean?) and general unpleasantness Merinski was dishing out, but he took it all with a smile, waiting patiently for the man to feel he had finished. Bob had met all sorts of colorful characters in his line of work, and he found that mostly everyone had the same potential to be a jerk or be a saint, regardless of how they presented themselves to be externally. Bob was sure underneath the black leather and intimidating paint (and were his teeth sharpened? They looked sharpened...)

Suddenly the goth began stomping away angrily, and the oddest sensation buzzed through Bob, he shouldn't leave him alone, and Bob was slightly concerned about the odd man's habit of twitching and stuttering... perhaps he had a condition... maybe he needed to be medicated and neither of them knew where they were. So, with the odd sensation and the goth-boy's welfare in mind Bob stood up. "Just a second wait u-" Bob didn't get to finish, as the man stopped himself and then started screaming about something on his neck.

"Okay okay," Bob said in a calm voice, "Just hold up your hair like that for me..." The man, who had now introduced himself as Merinski, had made it clear that he did not wish to be touched for whatever reason, so Bob very carefully gripped one of the long spikes on the leather collar he was wearing so he could lift it up without touching him.

Three pieces of metal were embedded in the man's neck, gleaming in the sunlight filtering through the church. Bob blinked... wasn't that just like the thing he had thought he saw on his arm... Bob dropped the collar back down into position. "That's odd, you have one of those little metal thingies I have one too!" Bob said lifting up his colorful sleeve to demonstrate. His own tick gleamed in the sunlight, faint lines of dried blood circling the edges where the metal disappeared under his flesh. "Is it some kind of new piercing because I don't remember getting one at all..." Bob said looking up to Merinski, obviously expecting someone as... costumed as him to know all the cool piercings these days.

From the door the two were headed for loud barking, growling and crashing could be heard. Bob's mind was not on danger at the moment so he dismissed it as a curiosity to be solved after the mystery of the tick...

The parasite screeched and leaped at the stunned toothdog's face, scratching and biting causing the toothdog to roar. Cyrus stumbled up the steps, still choaking a bit on the vile tasting slime that came up with every parasite. He spat as much as he could out, following the sounds of Nior climbing the stairs hand trailing on the wall to identify doors. Nior turned, momentarily confusing Cyrus before his fingers felt the wooden frame of a door brush beneath them. Cyrus entered the room, huffing and puffing and oblivious to Nior's glaring.

"What th'fuck you doing?" Cyrus asked panting, "We need to get to the roof, it's safest and the others might be able to see us!" For the moment however, he was glad to catch his breath, bending down and panting. He finally became aware of the clinking of chains and the unnatural rattling of the chandelier... there were others in the room. "Who is this?" Cyrus demanded, silently hoping it wasn't more new people, more people to get thrown to the wolves...

Jask sees the parasite take down the dog... and looks a bit green afterwards. The resolve in his face hardens, and he leaves Epic to the Chandelier as he stomps towards the dog and the parasite, wrapping his arms around himself and bringing his chains up and rattling them at the creatures, letting a strange hiss rattle out of his throat. Another dog clawed its way in and he tuned on it first, lashing the chain with the hook on it like a weapon.

Even with a fight on his hands, he kept the corner of his eye on Epic, just in case.

Epic squinted to the distance- there seemed to be something else than the dog there, but she couldn't tell what it was. Jask's hiss brought her attention to a new arrival in the room- ANOTHER stupid dog thing! Being up on the chandelier did nothing to give Epic a sense of safety- if everyone was killed, wouldn't one or both dogs just be waiting down there for her?
She looked all over the chandelier, hoping to find something of use... ah, well, glass bulbs and such could do damage. Possibly. Getting little shards into the monster's faces would be too hard, but littering the floor with them meant injured pawpads.

Without much ado, the girl started to unscrew one of these lightbulbs from the metal contraption.

"New piercing," he repeats stupidly, presenting the phrase as a statement, blue eyes narrowed and blinking in confusion. Merinski lets out a low exasperated hiss and shakes his head, pale thin hair swishing from side to side before he barks loudly, rudely, "Why the ffffuck would I get a fffucking piercing only to not remember it and ffff---FFUCKING SCREAM ABOUT IT LATER..?!!" The tall stringy goth screeched down uselessly at the tanned man, obsessively picking at his sleeves, his nails, his fingers, before setting into a pace. His large black leather boots crunched mercilessly into glass-strewn ground, ruining those shattered crystalline shards even further. In his pacing, Merinski mentally tries to grasp at some sign, some wisp of memory, any clue as to why he was here, a reason, an explanation, something, anything.

A familiar face....covered by... No, it was a stranger. Blank. Blank. Bl----a mirror.

Water.

Four.

Five.

The numbers Four and Five. But not...his...not his.... they weren't his....



It wasn't much.
"Well fffffffshit," the corpsepainted man muttered under his breath. It was... alarming though. Why couldn't he remember how he got here? He'd never just forgotten anything before like this, as he recalled. ...Recalled.
What did he recall?
"Now wait just second---I'm not eighteen," he stated loudly, randomly. Too much was missing. Too much information---no, it was more than information, it was events, it was people, places, logic, life, experience, it was... him. He was missing, I'm missing.

In an odd motion, the goth slowly moved his hands along their opposite arms until clutching his elbows, hunching slightly. Alarming. Chilling, chilling. It was a hollow...frightening feeling. Although, as custom for Merinski, any other emotion he had besides misdirected rage was immediately covered up with....misdirected rage.

"And unlike you, I KNOW I'm not drunk and I didn't do anything fffffucking S-STUPID," he shoots over at Bob defensively. He sniffs slightly, trying to shove aside his thoughts; he had to figure out how to leave first and formost, right? Yes. One thing at a time. If he tried more than that, if he dwelled on the potential severity of the situation, of the wrongness of what it was to not have a full and complete grasp on your...you, then...

Well, fuck.

Merinski shoots Bob one more glare---unwarrented, but still; Goddamn smiley lush hair bastard. He needed to be glared at---before turning with an immature huff and making his way to the closed door. "Well ffffuck this. I'm leaving," he states coldly. He reaches out toward the door...but then hesitates, curling his long bony fingers into a loose fist before letting it fall back to his side. His already narrow eyes get even thinner and his brow furrows, scrutinizing the door. "What in the name of...fffff..? Do you hear...?" He half mutters to himself, half to his accidental companion.

Robert Dahl smiled pleasantly at Merinski, hoping to eventually disarm his cloud of angry twitchy rage if he just smiled enough and remained the beacon of shining light he currently was. He wasn't taking the attacks personally, as the goth-man seemed obviously distressed at this whole situation, and to be honest, a gnawing doubt had begun to chew away at Bob's "zen" making it more difficult for him to maintain that inner feeling of ease he still clung onto. Bob pursed his lips and thought, listening to Mer's input, random or not, "Naw, you're not eighteen I don't think," he squinted his eyes attempting to look through the corpsepaint to the man beneath, "You look more like 26 or somesuch about..."

Bob didn't think about why the younger man had made that comment. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had already realized this whole situation was wrong and that he too was missing part of his life, but he hadn't consciously realized it yet, his mind gently swaying between the problems in front of him to keep from lingering too long on any one thing. As Merinski walked up to the door Bob felt a slight nagging sensation and then trotted forward to join him, his flip flops clopping on the floor as he shuffled forward. "Well you don't need to get all defensive on me, I was just tryin' to suggest a reason why I might be here. I mean, I don't remember how I got here so I assume I was drunk or somthin'. What do you think it was?" Bob looked at Mer, curiosity in his face.

The sound of snarling and barking drifted faintly through the doors...

Bob blinked. "Yeah I hear it too!" he confirmed with a nod, "It's dogs! Probably means someone else is out there don't you think?" He gave Mer a smile that said See? Help is here we had nothing to worry about this whole time now you can cheer up! as he opened the door to the main church floor. Bob turned his smile to their suggested saviors...

There was chaos on the floor, dogs barking and snarling at eachother as they tumbled on, over and around the church pews and searched for the prey they had been subconsciously promised by the signal that had spurned them into action. Two of the black hounds near where Bob stood at the open door fought over a the last scrap of something red and wet, shoving the other out of the way and trying to get their nose down to the ground to lick up the meat before the other got in their way. Bob made a small confused noise in the back of his throat, green eyes wide. One of the dogs looked up, the black crosses of its pupils widened and then honed in on the startled looking man. The mouth on it's chest split open in a hungry growl, revealing rows of pointed teeth and a long tongue that rolled out of the chasm, licking at the black fur on its chest.

"Those aren't dogs..." Bob said in a tiny voice...

The dog launched towards him with a snarl, paws scrabbling over the hard floor followed by it's companion a second later. Bob stared at them, a rabbit frozen in fear in front of their crimson gazes, door hanging open and mouth agape.

Whatarethosethingsthiscan'tbehappeningthishastobeadream...

Before those strange, hellish dog-like creatures launched themselves toward the odd pair, Merinski had been staring open-mouthed much in the same manner Bob had been. He was reminded of---oh, there was something---he was a child---he must have been considering the top of his head only reached to his mother's thigh as he clutched her jeans fearfully, trying to hide behind her leg. Two snarling Rottweilers held on chain leashes that were clutched in a large, tanned hand. The man laughed, yanking the dogs back to his side forcibly, causing the larger of the two animals to yelp and growl, a string of drool dangling from it's jowl for a moment before splatting onto the floor. The man was saying something to his mother, but what it was, Merinski could barely understand---as if the man's voice were coming from a poorly tuned radio---even his face seemed fuzzy, features distorted---

The snarling from the toothdogs however was a clear as a bell, and as they made their move, the goth snapped back to the present. He let out a quick shriek of confusion and terror, stumbling backwards, startled. The first dog leaped and it was like watching the events unfold in slow-motion as the furry black beast made to land on the man in the Hawaiian shirt. The skinny blond let out another horrified yell and darted forward, bending down to clutch one of those large chunks of broken, stained-glass window between his fingers.

"AHHHHHHH----!!!" Almost as soon as the first toothdog connected with the larger man, Merinski barreled blindly into it, dislodging the dog from Bob and knocking it to the floor despite his meager weight. "DIE, F-F-FFFUCKING DIE--!!" Merinski yelled in desperate fear, mostly unaware of what was coming out of his mouth as his pale eyes widen. He's temporarily forgotten the shard of glass [now cutting into his hand] and he tries to wildly stomp on the fallen dog-creature with his spiked boots, kick it away, ANYTHING---

At the sight of it's companion snarling and snapping and writhing on the floor, the second toothdog takes a charging leap at Merinski. The goth looks up just as that mass of mouths and teeth and matted black fur roars into his chest, knocking the wind out of the thin man as he flew backwards into the room. He grunts harshly, landing on his back. It seems to take a split second for both Merinski and the toothdog to realize themselves--- it's not until a slimy string of drool splats on the blond's cheek does Merinski start to yell again, and the dog, to try and bite.

"ARGHHHH, AHHHHHH GET THE FFFUCK OFF ME, G-G-GET THE FFFUCK OFF M-M-ME---!!!" In an automatic defensive reflex Merinski throws out his arms at the toothdog in an attempt to keep it away from him, struggling and flailing beneath it, the dog's nails clawing painfully into his torso. The Cathedral is a blur above him---seeming more like Hell every second as opposed to some once holy place of worship as those jaws got closer, that mouth wider, twisted into some horrible, gaping hellhound smile, sharp yellow teeth coated in saliva, breath like rot, the dead, death, death, death----

"DON'T FFFUCKING T-T-TOUCH ME!!!!"

As Merinski growl-shrieks this out, he swings his arm forward with the intention of stabbing the beast's face with the shard of glass he still held---however as he makes the motion to do so, a blade of...something, sharp, red, shiny, slick, lightning-fast and---the toothdog suddenly HOWLS in surprised agony [what happened, what just happened, what, what, ow ow ow, fuck fuck FUCK---], stumbling backwards off of Merinski and past it's injured brethren, back over the threshold...

Bob saw the toothdog soaring towards him almost as if in slow motion, jaws opened wide and dripping drool and blood soaking it's muzzle. Adrenaline coursed through his body and he suddenly felt aware of every hair on his own body and the blood rushing below his skin. He began to bring up his arms to block the dog as its clawed paws soared towards him.

The dog connected and Bob felt the back of his head hit the floor and the slowmotion effect that had been gripping his world suddenly snapped and the next events happened faster than Bob could process them. Merinksi screeched like a banshee and tackled the monster off of Bob while Bob's head was still reeling from hitting the floor. Bob was panting eyes wide, his own fear, panic and adranaline seemed to be swelling larger and larger, doubling as the tick in his arm throbbed and pumped chemicals into his bloodstream. For a moment he was paralyzed, staring at the cathedral roof roof as he heard Merinski's screeching and the dull thump and chrunch of boots colliding with toothdog. Bob wasn't able to move until he saw the second toothdog soar over him and heard it collide with Merinski.

"Merinski!" Bob rolled over with a cry as the dog tackled Merinski. He scrambled to his feet and watched with wide eyes and pounding heart as Merinski screamed "DON'T FFFUCKING T-T-TOUCH ME!!!!" and a blade made of blood arced out of him and sent the toothdog running back. Bob's couldn't handle this right now, his brain was racing and wasn't functioning right now, so he acted on instinct. He needed to get both of them safe, protect them. Not even thinking of the other man's touching phobia Bob ran up to him and grabbed Merinski. Mer might've been taller than Bob, but he was so skinny that the heftier man had no trouble at all lifting him up and sprinting with him. He went for the place he had been before the dread of his situation had set in. Bob headed for the still open trapdoor to the basement, the adrenaline in his system letting him run over the glass in his flip-flops without even feeling it and made him not think it through when he jumped down the hole in the floor.

The pair landed on the floor with a dull thump, Bob twisting to land and take most of the fall and arms falling open to release Mer onto the dirty floor... Bob didn't move for a few seconds, before he began struggling up. He had to go close the door...