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Bellum Anon ([info]bellum_anon) wrote in [info]bellumlogs,
@ 2010-05-18 10:00:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:dorian gray, hessian, plot: riddles, sultan's daughter

Group A: Dorian Gray, Sultan's Daughter, Puss in Boots, Hessian

The plaque on the wall says:

The murderer and the runaway must sing this rhyme
So find who they are to keep in time.
While the rogue must find a name
That suits him true and not his current game,
O soldier, you are not immune to our song,
Confess a thing where you were in the wrong.


This room is absolutely blank white. There are no doors, no windows, and no corners. The air smells conditioned by machine, but there is no breeze, and a steady temperature of 70 degrees.

All the appropriate information must be revealed, and the first two people must then recite the rhyme together for a door to appear. There are no consequences if the group does not follow the directions... but there is no food or water, doors or windows, in the room.

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[info]cyprian
2010-05-18 10:44 pm UTC (link)
These days, the outside world barely grazed his periphery. This went beyond numbness, beyond shock. This was the bottom of the ocean, miles below any memory of sunshine. In a swirling vortex of bordello debutantes and multi-colored pills that fell like confetti, there were no surprises anymore. Shock value was extinct. Trenton was so agonizingly bored with the people in Manhattan. His supposed friends and girlfriends and dealers. Enduring a conversation was agony. In comparison to what happened on a daily basis in this apartment building, the outside world was a joke. He could probably witness an overdose now without looking up from his cheerios. Play second fiddle to a drive-by without a sweat. Or maybe this building was the joke. Or maybe he was just too high.

Trenton blinked with a grimace, crawling loose from that strange tangle of thoughts while stamping his blunt out in a nearby ashtray. In every corner of this penthouse he saw the shadows of some memory that wouldn't leave. Whether it was Shiloh or Aaron or Boyd or a big fucking knife. He just closed his eyes against all of it and rested his head back against the plush cushion of his white couch. Inhale.

He didn't fall asleep, but it was that strange tightwire walk between awareness and lulling darkness. He could hear the hum of his AC. He could hear wind whipping softly against these high rise windows. He could hear his heart, constantly, constantly prattling on. He could feel the couch's base at his back, although it felt firmer somehow than before. He shifted but found no comfort with any adjustment and on a sallow sigh, he opened his bloodshot eyes.

This was not his penthouse. The white was incredibly, annoyingly bright and Trenton frowned, squinting against it. There were other people here, but on first glance he did not recognize them. Pressing his hands into his eyes, Trenton remained seated on the floor, his back against one of the white walls, wearing expensively distressed jeans and a tee shirt that explained in bold, black print that "DISCO'S NOT DEAD".

"Ugh, what the fuck.."

Right now, he really, really wished he was just too high. But through his time in this building, he knew that wasn't the answer. Trenton just grimaced and kept his face buried in his hands, wishing more than anything that he'd been unknowingly dosed with acid.

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[info]sultana
2010-05-18 11:42 pm UTC (link)
Joss had crashed on the floor a few hours earlier, missing the air mattress by a few feet. Coming out of a shower, after downing a bottle of wine she couldn't quite remember buying, she'd only gotten as far as underwear and a large t-shirt before deciding a nap was a good idea. Her head didn't realize the change from rug to blank, clean whiteness until she rolled over onto her back, mouth hanging open.

Her head fucking hurt and she winced, before letting her eyes flash open. The whiteness was too bright and it really, fucking hurt her eyes - she liked that she kept her room dark. She pushed herself upright, groaning, "Not another fucking trip."

It was then she saw the others and she cursed. Damn it, if she'd known other people were there she'd have acted. Trip or not, time was too important of a thing to waste. She glanced down at her white t-shirt, nearly transparent, and her pink underwear and frowned. From now on, she was dressing better before going to bed - who knew that there was the opportunity to wake up surrounded by three men when she woke? Joss pushed herself to her feet, adopting a lazy smile. "So, where's the dealer so I can thank him?"

And avoid afterwards.

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[info]sharpcharm
2010-05-19 12:56 am UTC (link)
Chris sorely wanted to believe that this was all just part of a dream-filled sleep he was sure he'd never even fallen into, but while he'd made a career and a lifestyle out of lying to other people he'd never made a habit of lying to himself. The hard floor under his legs, the too bright white of the foreign walls boxing in him and the freaking weirdness of this building were all too solid and unpleasant facts to make this anything other than a very real, very annoying situation that he was positive he really did not want to be involved in.

He rubbed his hand through his sleep tousled hair and took a look around the room he'd, quite literally, found himself in. Three other people, no visible exits, the only distinguishing mark a plaque on the wall he couldn't see from where he was sitting. "Not in this corner." He replied pleasantly, pushing himself up off the floor with ease. The desire to roll his eyes at the fact that whatever situation he was in involved someone he'd already pegged as likely to be unhelpful he kept completely off his face. That she was a half-naked woman who was not wholly unattractive registered with him, but only as a slip blip considering his current situation.

All the same, when he easily gave into the Southern manners embedded deep to his bones and introduced himself to the room in general, his friendly if slightly tired smile was aimed at the girl whose name he didn't know. "I'm Chris. I can't see any way out of here or getting air, so I'd suggest that until we can figure a way out of here, we try and conserve as much oxygen as possible." As he spoke, he made his way across the room to have a look at the plaque on the wall opposite.

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[info]reclamation
2010-05-19 01:21 am UTC (link)
While sleeping wasn't completely problematic for William, he hadn't been able to find it properly at this particular midnight. He'd been awake instead, trying to focus on the pages of the book in front of him, when the entire world stretched for a split second and proceeded to deposit him on a searingly white floor in a searingly white room. He winced and covered his eyes - his own room had been relatively low-lit - until he got used to it. Only then did he glance around, seeing two men and one woman, and not much else.

Chris took advantage of the moment to introduce himself first, pointing out a very important note. Will stood up and tried to find anything in the room that would let them out, give them a hint to an escape, even be something other than just endless whiteness, but all he found was the plaque on the wall that Chris was already reading.

"Will," he said gruffly by way of introduction before moving to read the plaque as well, keeping his eyes locked on it and not on anybody else in the room - not yet.

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[info]cyprian
2010-05-19 08:29 am UTC (link)
Somehow, the worry that he should try to find a way out of the room completed eluded Trenton for a long moment. It could have been his clouded state of mind, but it wasn't until Mr. Southern Charm voiced his concerns that they all conserve oxygen that Trenton actually detracted his full attention away from the barely dressed woman's legs. "Ri-ight."


Trenton regarded the room as a whole from his seated position on the floor. There was so much white that it was beginning to give him a headache, and he scratched the side of his neck with a pained expression as the other two men moved toward the plaque on the wall. Although curiosity made him want to know what it said as well, Trenton determinedly remained on the floor, stretching out his legs. When silence fell between them all for a moment, he finally gave them an introduction to salivate over.

"Trenton."

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[info]sultana
2010-05-19 01:49 pm UTC (link)
"I'm Joss." Though she let her grin flash at Chris, she blinked when they were supposed to conserve oxygen. "Seriously?" She looked from the man who was ignoring her - ass - to Trenton whose name rang a bell. Selfish in bed, she remembered vaguely, her mouth curving into a smirk.

She followed Will-I'll-Ignore-You to the plaque, reading it over with a frown. Riddles? Seriously? She didn't do this kind of shit. "And I thought Alice in Wonderland was weird," she muttered, half to her self. Joss glanced over it again, then looked up to the others. Sometimes she really did have a brain.

"So who's the murderer?" Then again, maybe not. "Soldier, you better protect us - dying would be an awful waste." Her tone was teasing, but her arms crossed under her chest. "I call runaway." It was true after all.

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[info]sharpcharm
2010-05-19 11:24 pm UTC (link)
Chris eyes skimmed over the words of the riddle for the third time in so many minutes, the pulse of adrenaline he'd felt the first time 'find a name that suits him true' had jumped out at him not entirely faded. Well, fuck. There was no way he was telling any of these people his real name, that was for sure. When Joss asked who the murderer was for a well thought out moment Chris considered claiming that part of the riddle as his own, and then shedding this alias and leaving New York as soon as he was out of this room. But even banking on the unlikelihood that the real culprit would stand up and debunk the claim, there was always the problem that it would do him no good and he'd end up drawing suspicious attention to himself by preferring to be thought a murderer rather than owning up to his true name.

So. "I changed my name a while ago," Chris confessed, re-writing the history of Christopher Kyle, born and raised in Illinois with a careless shrug. "So looks like I'm the rogue." This, with a charming smile that had a distinctly rogueish slant to the only woman in the room, and a question of a somewhat similar calibre. "It'll be an awful waste for my eyes, but do you want to borrow my jacket?" Despite it being midnight when all of them had been taken, Chris hadn't yet been asleep and was still wearing the handsomely tailored suit he'd worn that day to work.

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[info]reclamation
2010-05-19 11:42 pm UTC (link)
Reading the riddle, William's heart jumped slightly at the 'murderer' bit - but he wasn't a murderer, no, not in the real sense of the word. Besides, 'soldier' couldn't have been referring to anybody except him. None of the other people in the room had the look of the military, and he'd been there long enough to know what it was. (At least, he thought he did.) Maybe Chris, but ...

He glanced over the group again. Runaway, rogue ... murderer was the dark-haired one on the floor, then. He read over the plaque again, putting his hands in his pockets and mulling over what had to be done. Two to repeat the rhyme, one to find a name, and then he had to ... great.

He'd been in the wrong before. A hundred times. He wasn't looking forward to talking about any of those.

"I was in the Army," Will said by way of staking his claim to a role. This place just got weirder and weirder, didn't it.

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[info]cyprian
2010-05-20 12:27 am UTC (link)
He observed his fellow captives briefly in turn, one dismissive sweep of bluegreen eyes set on repeat. Although, the half naked girly might have gotten an extra glance at the end. He didn't recognize their names, save for Joss. But even her's was remembered on a questionable note, as Trenton made a point to avoid the online forum unless he was unable to see straight. It was too painful to skim that shit in a conscious state of mind.

Initially, aside from the brightness of the white paint, the room hadn't bothered Trenton. But now.. as the minutes were beginning to tick by.. and he was beginning to realize little details like how there were no doors, or windows, no discernible corners or end in sight.. it was getting to him. Trenton wasn't exactly claustrophobic, but some strange itch was beginning to crawl up the base of his spine. It felt like a bad trip.

Murderer. The others had been talking amongst themselves, and one word rang through his paranoid haze suddenly, bringing him back to the moment. "What?"

The plaque caught his attention then, as Trenton was always late to a party. He got to his feet to slowly close in on it with the others. He read the words over once with an arched eyebrow before stepping back with extended hands and shifty eyes. "Woah, woah, woah.. I'm not a goddamn murderer.."

He wasn't, Trenton frantically assured himself. Aaron had been an accident. A fucking accident.

He shot the pantless bitch a derisive narrowing of the eyes, as if her claiming "runaway" is what had set this whole domino affect off. It was like an evil game of musical chairs, now he was stuck being the murderer!

Thanks a lot, bitch.

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[info]sultana
2010-05-20 12:34 am UTC (link)
Joss's gaze settled on Chris during the confession and her lips pursed slightly. "What was it?" she asked, curious as well as the riddle saying they needed it. Her eyes darted to the others for a moment, calculating the reactions if she stayed as she was before a firm nod. "My sis will freak if I show up at her place in another guy's coat." Sherri was just oblivious at times.

She could almost have expected Will was the soldier ...and the fact that it left Trenton with murderer wasn't that surprising either. Even in the part of her mind that knew she should edge away from danger, she couldn't quite care that he was. People killed each other. Fine, let's get a move-on. Even his glare didn't really scare her.

"Everybody else already has a role," she said, chidingly. Joss's eyes were bright with amusement as she asked, "How'd you do it?"

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[info]sharpcharm
2010-05-20 01:15 am UTC (link)
"Nothing I was much fond of." Chris replied in a tone of apparent casualness, instinct as much as anything else making him not ready to give up any variation of his actual name just yet. He was about to say more when the dark-haired twenty-something in the corner made his presence and opinion extremely, loudly well known. He managed to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the scene the other man was making, although Joss's unhelpful question made him wonder why the fuck he even bothered.

"Were you around when someone died?" He asked Trenton, coaching his words into a non-threatening, genuine question and hoping the man would have the sense to take the subtle suggestion and run with it in a half way convincing manner. Like Joss, Chris wasn't particularly concerned that they were locked in a room with an apparent murderer. As far as he could tell, the guy was far from an immediate, viable threat which was basically all that mattered to him. That and getting out of here, hopefully with his cover and his ability to breathe in and out intact. "Riddles have a way of exaggerating things."

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[info]reclamation
2010-05-20 01:25 am UTC (link)
William glanced at Trenton, noting the immediate overreaction, the surprise, the attempt to repel the accusation of 'murderer' as fast as possible. Personally, whether or not the kid was an actual murderer didn't bother him much; it wasn't as if any of them were armed (a fact he was slightly unnerved by, at least as far as himself being unarmed went), and one person trying to kill three? No. Didn't make sense.

Didn't stop the girl from egging him on, though Chris at least had the right idea. Will looked over the riddle one more time before putting his back to the wall next to it. (Old habits died hard.) The faster they came to a conclusion and settled this problem, the faster they could keep going and get on with it. 'Sing this rhyme' seemed straightforward enough, and it got them out of the way, in any case.

For the moment, he was silent. Whatever he might think of adding wasn't going to help the situation, probably.

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[info]cyprian
2010-05-20 04:38 pm UTC (link)
Trenton ignored the woman, which was actually easier now that she was talking, and he examined the plaque some more. It seemed that there were really only four parts to play; Trenton was not a runaway, a soldier, or a rogue. He tried to swallow the uneasy sensation that crawled like panic from the back of his throat.

Was he really a murderer?

He thought of Aaron, who had most definitely died in his company, and of Boyd who might have been dead for a few minutes, those things were hard to tell. He thought of his brother, dead because of their own game. Then, there were of course countless others that he couldn't stake claim to, but he'd been there when they'd died all the same. That drunk girl who tumbled over the balcony at his party at the Marriott. The friend that overdosed while Trenton was sleeping. That squirrel he accidentally ran down in his BMW last Tuesday.

He felt a little sick, and ran his hand over the back of his neck as he retreated a step from the plaque. He'd never thought of himself as a murderer.

"I've been around when a lot of people have died," he explained shallowly, tonguing the edge of his lip, at a complete loss over how somebody had managed to know about his secrets.

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[info]sultana
2010-05-20 04:45 pm UTC (link)
Her arms crossed more tightly under her chest and a frown settled on her face. This being ignored thing didn't work for her - never did. Honestly, it wasn't as if she was something that could be overlooked like Will in the corner. She raised her eyes to the heavens, wondering when her own trips didn't make sense and didn't work in her favor.

"Sure, sure, doesn't everybody say that?" Joss rolled her eyes and looked at the plaque. Her mouth quirked for a moment before she sang in a childish, way, "The murderer and the runaway must sing this rhyme." She turned to Trenton with a pointed look and scanned the bottom again.

"Name and where you were in the wrong..." Her attention went to Will and she grinned. "What'd you do? Get someone discharged?" She knew nothing about the army, otherwise she would have done something worse. "I kinda want to get out of here and head out to a club, while feeling like this. You know?" It would at least be an interesting experience.

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[info]sharpcharm
2010-05-21 02:18 am UTC (link)
"That's probably it, then. Like I said man, riddles are full of hyperbole." Chris said, not really believing a word of what he was saying; hardly a new experience for him. Truthfully, he didn't entirely believe that the only way out of this room was through a duet and some secret-telling but going along with it seemed, for now at least, like the best option. All the same, he walked back around to the part of the round room he thought he'd first appeared at and leaned against it. Supposedly in an apparent thoughtless gesture of something to do with his hands, in reality a subtle way of checking out the somewhat impossible hope that there might be an extremely well hidden trap door.

He had no idea what Joss was talking about and frankly had no interest in finding out. Rather than answering her question to the room at large, he looked over at Will, whose relative silence he hoped could be put down to an intelligent good sense rather than something distinctly less helpful. "As far as I can tell, it's asking for any mistake you've made, not the worst." He told him good-naturedly, "If you want to try that." It was pretty much the same logic that Chris was planning to apply to his own part of the riddle, still at the forefront of his mind even though the others seemed, thankfully, largely uninterested in it.

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[info]reclamation
2010-05-21 03:00 am UTC (link)
A lot of people, huh? Will pressed the back of his head against the wall further, eyes half-shut as he thought. Who knew what kinds of people lived here, he figured. And he didn't really have any right to judge.

When Joss spoke, he glanced at her - yes, she really wasn't wearing pants, what the hell did people sleep in these days? It wasn't that hot out yet, was it?

"Sometimes," he said as he looked away again. Yes, he'd gotten people discharged - sometimes when they needed it, sometimes when they didn't - but that wasn't the worst thing he'd done. Then Chris suggested that it was any mistake, not the worst, and ... well, William had considered that, but it was still something of a relief that someone would voice it first. Besides, there wasn't really a 'worst' of the secrets he had, of the wrongs he'd done. There was just a lot of 'worse'.

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[info]cyprian
2010-05-21 05:15 am UTC (link)
Trenton watched the plaque for a moment longer before his attention fell to his hands. The others were talking again, and he retreated a step against the wall in favor of silence. His thoughts ran to Aaron, unresponsive and vacant eyed.. to Boyd, shuddering and foaming.. to Callum, blood.. everywhere. He swallowed, it felt rough in his throat. Like choking down a lump of coal, or a raw blade. It was like being too high, or way too sober. Trenton winced, suddenly aware of his own coherency.

"So let's fucking do this..." Trenton was done, he was finished, he wanted out of here. Fifteen minutes was too much. He straightened, casting a crude but serious eye to the girl with no pants. "Ready?"

And then, on a beat of one-two-three, he started, "The murderer and the runaway must sing this rhyme..."

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[info]sultana
2010-05-21 05:25 am UTC (link)
There was a huff as no one seemed to cooperate, but Joss remained silent for once. What was so difficult about talking? It was just a name - it was just a mistake. They should just fess up so they could get out of there. A hand went to her hair, curling a loose strand about her finger, until Trenton finally complied.

She gave a brief nod, before chiming in. She didn't try to speak louder, or cover him, simply going along with it. All in all, she thought the riddle was a dumb one - really, if her mind had to go whacko on her, couldn't it have thought up something a little more difficult? "...Confess a thing where you were in the wrong."

Once done, she moved to sit down on the floor, palms resting on the floor on either side of her hips. "Next?"

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[info]sharpcharm
2010-05-21 03:37 pm UTC (link)
What the fuck is with this place? Chris wondered, definitely not for the first time and probably not for the last, either. As the two of them sang and it got closer to his own turn he felt a spike of irritation, tinged with a sense of disbelief. Part of him wanted to go over every inch of the room looking for an extremely well hidden way out, but good sense strongly advised him against it. No trap doors, no way out, no oxygen soon enough. Just four people and the truth. Fuck.

Next. He could have remained silent and let Will speak, but if this was the only way out of here, passing it on to the other man to go first wouldn't be of any help. He slid his hands into his pockets and smiled in a way that suggested maybe he was about to be overcautious but so what? "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas." He said to all three of them and reasonably, pleasantly, not overly concerned. "For all of us. Aside from the lack of fun run ins with strippers-" And blackjack, his mind supplied him with immeadiatly. Poker, bright lights, the Bellagio and he was defintely taking some time off for a trip to Sin City sometime in the near future. "Anyone have a problem with applying that here?"

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[info]reclamation
2010-05-21 03:52 pm UTC (link)
Will half-listened as the two of them read the plaque, not seeing anything change during or after they were done. So, everything had to go first, huh? He scowled at the blank white walls, the ceiling, the floor as Chris chimed in again. At first he thought he was trying to get out of sharing his name, but ... no. That was, for all intents and purposes, a fairly good idea.

Of course, if any of them could actually be trusted to keep secrets was another matter entirely. None of them could have been much past 25. A bunch of kids holding onto sensitive information? Yeah, right.

"Fine by me." He'd still tell, of course. But the discharge thing was fresh in his mind, so if he stuck with that, it'd still be bad but none of them would probably give a shit. All the better for him, he figured, and it still got all of them out of here in time. If there was time.

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[info]cyprian
2010-05-22 05:21 am UTC (link)
"That's the best idea yet," Trenton confirmed to the nameless one with an interested pop of his eyebrows. He could imagine there were few things worse than being labeled a murderer in this building. Of course, if there were worse things to be labeled, Trenton probably qualified for those as well. Still, he'd rather that information not be public knowledge.. for as long as was possible in a building like this.

Irritated with how long this process was taking, when he'd already done his part, Trenton scowled. "Let's get this over with. We don't even know if it's going to work, but I'd rather be out of here now if it does."

Drawing a heavy breath to cleanse his irritation, Trenton sank to the floor, not too far away from Joss. He gave her a contemplative tilt of his attention, and then a self-amused smile that said whatever he was thinking, he was currently sobering enough not to say it out loud.

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[info]sultana
2010-05-22 05:39 am UTC (link)
Her eyes travelled to each one, before she gave another huff. Really what was the point in knowing these kinds of things unless you could tell others about it? Joss debated it for another few minutes, before sighing. "Fine." A funsuckers was muttered under her breath, but probably only Trenton could hear that.

It wasn't like she always kept her promises anyway. She inspected the nails of one hand for a moment, waiting for the others to reply. From the corner of her eye, she watched Trenton and his expression. Huh. Didn't he look like at her like she was a rat a moment ago?

The thought was shoved aside a moment later and she gave him a small smirk. It didn't really matter what it meant - faking the language was more important than speaking it.

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[info]sharpcharm
2010-05-22 10:49 pm UTC (link)
Waiting for Joss to weigh in Chris decided that the long length of time before replying was a good sign that she wouldn't lie, whatever her answer was. Although out of all of them he nevertheless thought she was the least likely to agree to his idea and the most likely to start talking about what she knew if she got bored, since she had opened up so easily about her part of the riddle and so had little to lose. Trenton, he thought, had higher stakes and would probably not say anything as long as he wasn't provoked into it, while from Will's stotic, unforthcoming demeanour he judged him the least likely to speak about the riddle and its answers. The basic decency of people keeping their promises he only factored in so much as he thought the others in the room would.

And then, Joss gave her answer. It was, he knew, the best he was going to get under the circumstances. Chris didn't let himself think about the fact that part of one of his most well kept secrets was about to be exposesed, just spoke without preamble. "Sean." So used to introducing himself truly only in a slow New Orleans drawl, he was extra careful to keep the faux Illinois one in tact. Lord knows he wasn't letting anymore of his secrets out in the open than was absolutely necessary, including anymore of his actual name if he could get away with it. "My name used to be Sean." And then he glanced over at Will, more politely pleasant than he felt right at that moment. "Floor's all yours, man."

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[info]reclamation
2010-05-22 11:12 pm UTC (link)
So they were all in agreement. William was nonetheless skeptical about the whole deal, even when Chris went ahead and gave them a different name. Who knew if it was even the one necessary to get them out of here? They'd probably find out if they were never able to escape, but nonetheless ...

Something where he was in the wrong. He'd been considering it ever since Joss mentioned him getting people discharged. There were a lot of things he wouldn't admit to even under the veil of 'secrecy' they'd set up. Hell, there were things he wouldn't admit to government agents. But this room was just a solid white brick, hollowed out to let them in. If they were going to get out and it was all depending on his answer, then he'd have to answer. But he wasn't giving them his real secrets. Just one that people wouldn't be too uncomfortable keeping.

"I've gotten men discharged from the Army, like she said." William glanced over the others to make sure they weren't suddenly going to ask any further questions. "And not because they deserved it, or needed it." There. Something he'd done in the wrong.

(But sometimes they'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and, well, it wasn't his fault, now, was it?)

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[info]sultana
2010-05-23 05:59 pm UTC (link)
Joss listened to the two, an elbow on her knee, her chin on her fist. For things that they had to swear not to tell, it was awfully boring. People changed names because they were embarassing or because a new one would do things for them. Open gateways and the like. Chris was a boring name in comparison to Sean - though it did, vaguely cross her mind it was the area she grew up in.

And everyone did something out of spite. Really discharged? Who cared? People went and got themselves killed in the army all the time. It was probably a favor.

For once though, Joss kept her thoughts silent. A hint of self-preservation and the tension in the room made her think it over. She wasn't going to get anything out of saying things - keeping quiet and watching might be more rewarding.

Once Will was done, a door appeared in a wall to the left. Joss' eyes lit up and she bounded to her feet and towards it. Only when back in the lobby, did she look back over her shoulder to see if they were coming. "First!" She called out triumphantly.

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[info]sharpcharm
2010-05-23 06:46 pm UTC (link)
When the door appeared literally as if from nowhere, Chris felt a relief great enough that he didn't even care right then how the hell that had even happened. His surname was safe, his cover was safe and the likelihood that he would be the owner of a brilliant criminal career in tatters and a jail sentence had not been greatly increased.

Without pause, he went after Joss out of the room. With his first step out of the white room some of his good humour returned, and he gave Joss a smile, "Only fitting for a lady." And then, to the three of them, as he had no intention of hanging around and discussing whatever the hell had just happened to them, "Pleasure to meet you all, circumstances aside, but I'm going to have to say goodnight. See you all later."

Another smile, and then he started off across the lobby in a confident stride. Unlike his normal habit, he intended to bypass the elevator completely and take the stairs, his mind already on two things: getting in touch with Katya so she could work her magic and make various records say Christopher Kyle's first name had originally been Sean, and having a well-needed drink.

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[info]reclamation
2010-05-23 06:53 pm UTC (link)
Will couldn't help sighing in relief when the door appeared and Joss all but flung herself through it. Back out into the lobby, at least, and he didn't have that many floors to go. The lobby was as dark and barely-lit as ever, which was for once a real relief. He was sick of white walls. If he could just get back up to his room and sleep, maybe this would all turn into a really ridiculous dream. It wasn't like he had any physical mark to remember it by, just other people's secrets.

And William Decker was good at keeping secrets, especially when they were linked to one of his own.

He nodded briefly at the group and followed after Chris up the stairs, intending to get back to his room. Maybe have a drink before trying to sleep again, just in case he needed a little extra help nodding off. He didn't think he would, but who knew. Besides, after that kind of weird shit? He practically deserved a drink.

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[info]cyprian
2010-05-23 07:37 pm UTC (link)
Trenton was the last to leave. After all of that huffing and puffing about getting the fuck out of here, the playboy actually lingered in his white-on-white cell. He watched the others from his spot on the floor. Joss who flounced with amphetamine energy and took off through the doorway like a toddler to a carnival. Sean, who seemed conversational and almost friendly, and the soldier, who's silence spoke of reservations. None of them looked back, and Trenton remained self-imposed on the floor for a moment longer.

Watching the door, he could see that it led to the lobby. It all led back to the scene of the crime. Of many crimes, and many more crimes to come. But the idea did not bother him as much as it might once have. It didn't thrill him, but it didn't depress him now. He knew that it should have, thinking about the things he'd done, having to confess them here. But he remembered his portrait, and somehow.. it just didn't really seem to matter. He'd never done anything truly bad. Not by his count, not by his memories.

Dusting off his jeans, Trenton stood and went for the door. The here and now, not just Bellum, but all of New York were for him. For what he wanted. Consequences? Guilt? Confessions? The building could try it's best on him, but he was beginning to understand that he was beyond anything's control. They could call him murderer or rapist or drug addict or sleaze. But he was becoming unstoppable, he just didn't care. He remembered that was the key. It'd always been the key. Even at Callum's funeral.. just tuck it away, tie it up with a noose deep inside, and eventually one day you'll be able to breathe deep and find it's simply gone. Magic.

Trenton breathed deep now, and his grin was absolutely lascivious when he went through the door, and out of the lobby, onto the streets of New York. Into the city if so much plastic and sparkle and hello, beautiful.

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