prince_of_beasts | [come

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A synthesized woman's voice picks up the call.

"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system. Two - Zero - Two - Nine - One - Eight - Two - One - Three - Two -- is not available now. At the tone, please record your message. When you've finished recording, you may hang up or press the # key for more options."

Dimitri hasn't figured out how to customize the thing yet.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Um.

Dimitri recognizes the stylized gallows. It's some sort of threat, and after what happened to César, he's taking no chances. He steals up to the door, sword in hand, and eases it open.

"Who's there?"

It's very fair for Dimitri to be cautious after what happened to César, and his suspicions are proven correct as, when he opens the door, Rich is standing there, half in shadow, but still clearly recognizable.

"Dimitri..." He seems to stumble over the name. "It's me. Rich. You said I was supposed to stay with you tonight."

Oh, no.

Dimitri tenses, drawn like a bowstring, though he tries not to show it. "Rich. Are you alone? We agreed to stay in pairs. And I just received a threat via note."

"I'm sorry..." And he does look sad, momentarily. "I didn't mean to run away. I really did want to stay with you."

He stumbles forward a bit, a soft smile on his face. "A threat? That doesn't sound right. You're a nice person, Dimitri. No one should ever want to threaten you... can I see the note? Maybe there's some misunderstanding."

wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong

Dimitri is not a nice person. Which is why he steps back, sinking to one knee to pick up the card without taking his eyes off Rich.

"There's a drawing of a gallows," he says, holding out the card for inspection. "Why don't you come in?"

If Rich, or whoever -- whatever -- this is, wants to take the card, they'll have to step over the threshold.

"A gallows? I think that's just a game of Hangman... it's not dangerous. I can show you how to play."

Rich takes a few steps forward, though he hesitates at the door.

"Dimitri... you wouldn't hurt me, would you? I know you trust me... so I can trust you too."

"A game? I'm not familiar with it ... that's rather dark."

Dimitri's seen hangings. They're one of the nastier ways to go.

"I don't want to hurt Rich," he says, cold. "As for you ... that depends on who you are, and what you've done with him."

Rich lets out a slow sigh.

"...I guess you won't believe me, if I say I'm still Rich. He's okay, though. He's just dreaming right now. I promise I won't hurt him."

"Where is he? What have you done with him? And who are you?"

There's a burning behind Dimitri's eyes, a thunderous crackle between his ribs. His breathing stays slow and measured. Whoever this is acts like a frightened child. For now, that cobweb of restraint holds him back.

Slowly, carefully, he sheathes his sword. (With a sword, it's hard to do anything but kill.)

"You killed César, didn't you?"

The one in Rich's body takes a step backwards, looking like he's about to bolt. He just barely manages to stay steady.

"I had to protect him... he was hurt, in that pool, and I had to protect him... so I took over."

He looks down at his feet.

"César wasn't supposed to die, either. I just got scared that he saw me."

César is dead, by the hand of the son he loved.

Deep breaths. The situation doesn't need violence. Not yet. Dimitri grits his teeth.

"What do you mean, 'protect'? Where is he?!"

They need answers before vengeance.

"The man who attacked me before. What do you know about that?"

"I told you. He's sleeping. I don't know how to make him wake up..."

He has a couple of ideas, to be honest, but they'd all require taking a lot more time away from what he finds most important right now.

"I don't know a lot about them. We kind of knew each other... we were on the ship together before, but I don't think he was my friend."

"You were a passenger?"

Dimitri's blood freezes.

"Where is Rich?"

And every nerve catches fire --

"ANSWER ME!"

He lunges.

"S-Stay away from me!"

Immediately, the knife comes out of 'Rich's' pocket. He holds it up, but tilted so the sharp end isn't towards either of them. He isn't about to make this mistake again.

"I told you what I know! That's all you need to know!"

The hell it is.

But that's fine. Dimitri's never been good at interrogations. Maybe Watson or Darcy will be able to get some more information out of this thing.

One last try. "Then step inside," he growls, circling away from the door, "while I call the others. Rich's family can decide what to do with you."

Sorry, Dimitri, it's a bit late to avoid escalating.

Dimitri... clearly has said something wrong, from the way Rich's body recoils as if it's been slapped. His grip on the knife tightens.

"They're my family too. I won't let you get between me and them."

He can't do this now. If he tries to fight, he might get Rich's body hurt, or he may cause another murder. He glares at the older boy, but turns on his heel and bolts into the darkness.

Oh no the fuck you don't.

Dimitri takes off in pursuit. He's taller, his legs are longer, and (no offense, Rich) he's in better shape, and it doesn't take him long to close the gap. "Stop!" he barks, once again lunging to tackle his enemy, slit pupils flaring but eyes not yet adjusted to the dark.

Rich lets out a growl of anger as his legs are grabbed, causing him to collapse on the ground. The knife clatters in front of him, and he tries to get his arm to move quickly enough to grab it again and turn it back towards his attacker.

"Leave me alone!" He screams, sounding more like a child having a tantrum than one in any kind of danger.

They hit the ground together. Dimitri growls and kicks forward, scrambling to pin the shorter boy. The knife flashes in his peripheral vision. Dimitri jerks his head away; the blade catches him across the upper arm, instead, biting a deep slash through his flimsy shirt. He screams, more furious than frightened, and rolls away as his arm buckles, flinging up the other to defend himself as he scrambles to his feet.

That scream is enough to scare 'Rich' away, though, and before Dimitri can even bring his arm up, Rich is taking the opportunity his freed limbs give him to get up into a standing position. He barely manages a look back at the damage as he rushes away from Dimitri, around a corner to hide.

On his feet and running again, but his enemy darts around a corner. This time, by the time Dimitri catches up, his enemy's vanished.

He staggers to a halt with his back to the wall, one hand clamped reflexively over his cut. As he catches his breath and the adrenaline fades -- fuck. That hurts. It's superficial, but it's not shallow. Best not to give chase when he doesn't know where his enemy is; that's a quick route to getting ambushed and killed, especially when he's losing blood.

Cautious and on edge, Dimitri slinks back to his room, where he locks the door, turns on every light, and retrieves his phone.

To Darcy and Watson, he sends,

Rich not himsflf
Confirmed killde cesar
Atacked me
Ecaped
Be on guard

Are you safe? Do you need medical attention? -JW

Typing coherently is even harder than usual with blood smearing his hands and phone screen. It's getting into the cracks. Goddess only hopes this doesn't break it permanently. He'll have to find somewhere else to sleep, since he's not asking Fio to leave the door jammed open with at least one killer roaming the ship.

Im s adfe
He ran
I m fn e
Nt hr ut baddl y

Meet me in the infirmary. -JW

Dimitri attempts to compose a protest, but his phone and hands are really not cooperating.

B crafel of n
Car flu
Cre alful

Fuck it. He tears a few strips of fabric off the sheets of the fold-out for a makeshift bandage -- which hurts a little, remembering Rich doing this for him in the rover -- and sets off for the infirmary. Sword unsheathed, this time. He's not taking any chances.

Whether by luck, or because whatever's taken Rich isn't looking for a second confrontation either, he makes it to the infirmary without incident, and slides through the door -- wary and bristling, in case this is an ambush, or Watson's been replaced too.

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