29: [Audio] Counting Bodies Like Sheep

[dashboardlite]

All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.

He types because he can. Not to send, just...to type. Dean isn't sure when it really started. Maybe when he woke up. Maybe it was always there. Maybe it's just cabin fever, the stress of being stuck in one place for too long. Being trapped. Trapped. Trapped.

All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.

It feels to wrong to just...jusssssssssst just sit around. Waiting. Waiting. People to see. Places to go. Rooms to visit. The hallways are filthy with the promising stench of blood, so much blood he can taste it. I'm not gonna hurt you, no, no, I'd never, I'm just gonna bash your brains in, sweetheart, just hold sti-

All work and no play makes Dean a |

He switches the radio on, clears his throat, and becomes the dull boy.

"Hey! There anyone out there? It's Dean." He sighs, careful not to oversell the act. "The hallways are pretty tricked out, and I got a feeling that none of this is gonna end well for any of us since it ain't like we've got any clues yet. I'm thinkin' we oughta stick together to stay safe. If anybody needs help, radio me. I've dealt with almost everything, so we might as well be prepared."

All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.

"Over and out."

Comments

I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. Let me just turn my back on you and look away in shame.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip nods in response to both questions, getting ready to move into whatever direction Dean has in mind. ]

Yeah, that's it.

[ He thinks. It's been a while since he played, well, it's been a while since he played the game. The last time he played Mafia, as it were... you know what, his eye patch would rather not talk about it. ]

He said there might be more than one, what-- What do you suppose we've got to do if we find them?

[ Philip looks around with an uneasy glance. ]

It's not... going to be somebody we know, is it?

While you're at it make sure you don't move or anything, thanks.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Somebody we know.

[Dean starts walking with every intention of heading downstairs, gesturing that Philip follow.

Come along, little lamb. We'll hear you scream soon enough.]

Shit. I didn't even think of that. [Passing by the fifth floor, he offers the hall a cursory glance before continuing.] I guess we gotta take 'em out? Or...crap, I dunno, lock 'em up until the event's over with?

[Dean looks to Philip, adding a little Distressed Eyebrow Furrow.]

...What if it's a kid, man? This is fucked up.

I'm not sure why you'd say that, but I'm sure you have a valid and perfectly non-homicidal reason.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ And so he does. Baaaa. ]

But they--

[ When Philip woke up he felt normal. So much has already been said. No... anger, no anxiety, no compulsions, no voices encouraging him to slaughter everyone else. No more than usual at any rate.

Somehow he assumed it would be the same for just about everyone, he thought-- He is not sure what he thought, but the wolves they have to worry about now? Probably evil from the get-go. ]

Why would they play, it's not like... nothing happens if they don't, at least it doesn't look that way.

Me? Homicidal? You must have mistaken my charming face for Hannibal Lecter's.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Maybe it effects the bad guys we got here?

[He laughs weakly, remembering Wesker. How much fun it would be, now, to tear out his throat, so visceral, an aerosol spray of blood painting the walls red, bright red, his favorite color.

Fourth floor: Nothing.

Third floor: Nothing.]

Whoever it is, we should keep an eye out for twitchy sonsabitches.

[He needs a quiet place. A lonely place. An empty place. The basement should do nicely.]

Where d'you think a crazy psycho would hang out, anyway? Doubt they're swimming laps in the pool.

[He jerks his head down the second-floor hallway.]

...I could clink a few bottles together like in The Warriors?

Re: Me? Homicidal? You must have mistaken my charming face for Hannibal Lecter's.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip laughs. ]

If you pull a Kelly you'll probably end up scaring the wolves away.

[ Not that he'd actually mind. Unlike Dean the only business he has some experience in is saving himself and he's perfectly happy to have it stay that way.

For the most part. ]

...Hey, um, maybe we should get Daniel and Evelyn, they--

[ Oh! Oh, hang on! ]

They'd try to get somebody alone! They would, wouldn't they? If it's just a few, maybe just one then they can't go around and risk the whole mansion knowing, so... maybe we shouldn't find them at all, if... if we can just make sure enough people stick together.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[How caring of you, Philip. How delightfully selfless. Really, exercising such traits has to be tiresome.]

If we do get a buncha people together, we can't move around too much. It'll attract attention. We find a safe place and keep everyone there. I worked a case like this once. Shapeshifter.

[Disturbingly similar, but it makes for a nice tale.]

It was in a bank, we had to get everyone in the vault so the shifter wouldn't escape. The sonuvabitch was hiding in there the whole night. I just don't know where we oughta hole up this time around.

[Dean kicks at the wall and scuffs the metal with rubber, wrinkling his nose.]

...d'you know anyone down this hall? [Not ideal, but it'll do.] I could send a message to Dan to see where he is.

[Oh, look at that, his communicator is out and at the ready.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

Um...

[ Places to hole up... places to hole up... places to-- Philip notes with frustration that he's dedicated quite some time to planning several mansion-related horror scenarios by now and has the answer readier at hand than he might like. ]

Kitchen might be too small, but if the dining hall still works it might just be the best place, though I guess if--

[ Oh wow, they went downstairs fast, now that he thinks about it. ]

Hang on, that's Evie's floor, I'll just... [ He looks around. That's her room, right over there. ] ...check if she's there.

[ He turns back at Dean and offers a nod, smiling. ]

Thanks.

[ Then he heads for the door and knocks. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

No prob. [A teasing grin.] Gotta look out for your girlfri- "friend who is a girl."

[Dean rocks on the balls of his feet, click-clack typing away a little message, not to Daniel, but to himself himself himself.



Philip knocks, sure, but there's no answer. Evelyn is long-gone. (http://kch-kch.livejournal.com/4869.html?view=150277#t150277) Restless and anxious and eager to figure things out by herself, she traipsed off boldly into the industrialized waremansion wielding nothing more than her baseball bat.]

She there?

[Dean tucks the communicator back into his pocket, mouth twisted into a half-smile, half-grimace. Somehow, those hollow knocks didn't sound very promising.

How fortuitous.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip sighs. ]

Guess not.

[ He rubs his temple. ]

...I'll give her a call, let's just-- Where do we go now?

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Sorry, man.

[He frowns apologetically and casts another look down the hallway before shoving his hands into his pockets.]

...we establish a base. Easy to defend and easy to keep track of the ins and outs. We need to set it up first before getting anyone. I sent Dan a message so he'll know, I'm thinkin' someplace like the dining hall-

[Pause. Grimace for effect.]

-maybe the cellar, but I haven't been down there yet, so I dunno how it looks.

[He turns back to the staircase, readying himself for the first floor.]

Whaddayou think?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

Definitely the dining hall.

[ Philip follows, taking the first step down. ]

I've been and there's nothing down there, just a few rooms, lots of corridors and the caves. At best we find a room we could've found on any other floor, at worst we get lost.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Good point. At least the dining room doors can be barricaded.

[What else are large tables for, anyway? Besides laying out comfortably, sumptuously large feasts featuring haggis made from human stomachs, eyeball soup and ah, Mister Jones! Chilled monkey brains!

They move down another floor. It feels colder, but maybe it's just him. The anticipation is killing him.

...well, not literally. It'll be killing someone.]

Hope nobody's in...

[Dean eases the door to the dining hall open, grateful that it's empty. He steps inside.]

It ain't ideal, but beggars can't be choosers.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip looks around. Seems fine to him. ]

Why, what's... what's the problem?

[ He reaches for his comm unit and starts to dial. ]

...I'll just give Evie a call.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Dean gestures that Philip follow him in as he scrutinizes the area. If the mansion would just stop entertaining itself by switching styles (http://www.flickr.com/photos/imagezen/59071265/sizes/z/in/photostream/), it would be much easier to plan.

So no, it isn't ideal at all. Private, certainly, but ridiculously large, and he'd rather the quarters be closer so he doesn't have to resort to using a gun. Or...well, he could, but he already stuffed most of his rounds with rock-salt and cloves of garlic in the event that the local Vampire Queen decided to show up.

They would just hurt like a goddamn bitch.]

Yeah, give 'er a call.

[Dean says distractedly, shutting the door behind them. He locks it and unzips his duffel.

Evie doesn't know who he is, anyway.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Not much to say for now. Philip leans against one of the chairs and waits for Evie's voice, but it looks like she is otherwise engaged at the moment.

...At least Philip really hopes that that's the reason why she doesn't pick up. ]

Hey, um... Evie, it's me, Philip. I went to the dining hall with Dean, if you're not safe with somebody else-- Um, just call back when you- when you get this, all right? I hope you're all right.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Oh, Dean hopes that no one else has gone after Evie. He could pay a little visit himself when this is over.

Setting his bag on the table, expression and tone of voice calm, mild, surgical, Dean peruses the contents and asks:]

D'you think she'll be okay? Defending herself, I mean.

[He rather doubts it.

Ax, Bowie, stiletto, Butterfly knife, machete...He already gave his first machete away to the Medicine Seller, his partner in crime, who is likely wreaking havoc somewhere else at the moment.

It's so hard to decide what he wants to use first.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip pockets the comm device again. ]

Maybe she isn't even alone. And she's good with a bat. [ He laughs weakly. ] At least I hope she is, but...

[ But then again, she's already put too much faith into somebody who has confessed to being part wolf, so to speak. It doesn't bode well for the healthy dose of paranoia Philip believes everyone should have.

And as he trails off he realises that this is not a train of thought he wants to buy a ticket for, so he concludes with determination: ]

She'll be fine.

[ And now to business, so he can get out of here and find her... and Daniel as soon as possible. ]

...Anyway, do we still need to do anything? Move the tables or... or something?

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Philip doesn't seem very confident, but since when is that a surprise? Young women wielding baseball bats don't sound like they can hold their own for long, anyway. At least not against a shotgun.]

Nah, leave 'em.

[And speaking of shotguns...

Dean pulls his out, cocks it, aims at Philip's chest, and fires.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Much as the narration would love to offer elaborate prose, there is really not much to be said or thought in this particular moment.

In one instant Philip turns to ask whether Daniel wrote back yet and in the next he falls back hard, crashing into the chair before he hits the floor, searing pain sealing a scream inside his bleeding chest. ]

{ }

[ Gasping for air in quiet agony Philip isn't sure what hurts more, the betrayal or--

...No, actually he's pretty sure. It's the rock salt. Right now it's deeefinitely the rock salt. Ow. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Cracking the sawed-off open and popping out the empty shell, he feeds another one in and the gun clicks together again. Dean sets it on a table and reaches for the Butterfly knife.

Deftly, he flips it open and twirls it around his hand before it snaps into place. Crouching next to Philip, Dean pats the flat of the blade against his dear friend's cheek.]

Rise and shine, sweetheart.

[Dean contemplates the expression of pain on Philip's face for a moment before allowing a - pardon the term, but - wolfish grin to stretch across his own.]

Stings, doesn't it? [A sympathetic nod.] Don't worry, I'll make sure to use real bullets when I shoot your lady friend. Dan...well, he might get special treatment, too.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip's hand twitches to the side and bloody fingers clasp around Dean's shirt. ]

Don't...

[ The situation comes to him in fragments, but the pieces refuse to connect. There is-- something he doesn't even want to think about, God, please don't let him think about it and Evie and Dan are in danger and judging by the shaking he must not be particularly well either and something else, details, don't want them, just-- Just reach for the revolver.

His other hand reaches down to his belt. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Don't? Don't what?

[He inquires mildly, tracing a thin red cut down Philip's jaw with the knife.]

It won't take long, I'll go easy on them. Salt and burn. We have a furnace in the basement, don't w- Ah ah ah...

[The staccato sounds are amused, reprimanding, and Dean slides his free hand up under a bloody sweater, fingers wrapping around the handle of Philip's gun.]

I'll take that. Can't have you plugging me with lead, can we? [He pulls it free and tucks it into the back of his own jeans.] Little pig, little pig, you didn't even think before letting me in, did you?

[Dean chuckles, gripping Philip's shirt and yanking him closer, leaning in to murmur in his ear.]

How do you want them to die? I'll let you pick.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

{ }

[ The pain from the shot slowly ebbs away and Philip is left with a situation that should be clear-cut (much like that line across his face, really).

The mansion made them into rabbits and wolves. Dean ended up a wolf.

...Only the last time they were subjected to such cruel casting Philip was allowed to play a part as well.

It's for that reason he fails- he refuses to comprehend. If he didn't feel any different, if he wasn't aware of the game, of being a rabbit, then how... then why is it so different for Dean?

It's for that reason he does what he does best when an ugly thought rears its head. ]

It's not real, it can't be real.

[ Deny everything and blame it all on Clarence. ]

Can't be real, it's not... not happening, it's not happening, it's not real...

[ The virus regained his abilities it seems. And Philip was worried, nervous. He let his guard down.

But he can fix this. He just has to focus. Take deep breaths. Breathe through the pain that doesn't really exist. Remove fake Dean's hand from his shirt and push himself into a standing position. Breathe. Snap out of it. Breathe. Snap out of it. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Oh, no, this is pretty damn real. [He prods at the cut on Philip's face.] So's this.

[Flipping the knife back in, Dean leans away and stands up as Philip does the same, shakily. His famous crooked, charming smile is back as he rests his hands on his hips, shaking his head.]

Phil, Phil, Phil. All work and no play makes Philip a dull boy.

[Something about his grin twitches and shifts, and he moves to the table to rustle through his blades again. The ax does nicely. Hefting it, Dean moves closer predatorily.]

I don't...really like to play with my food, not really, no, it's not- It's just not my thing, y'know? I wish we could chat longer, but I wanted to have a friend for dinner.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ All right then. The situation has improved insofar as that Philip is standing again, supporting himself haphazardly on the edge of the table.

Everything else would be the bad news and his blood (the quantity not soaking his sweater at any rate) chills at the thought that this is actually happening. ]

{ }

Dean, it's- it's just the event, you don't want-- Dean, please--

[ But if Philip had anything else to say then it gets stuck in his throat the moment he looks up to see Dean advancing with an axe.

He stumbles back, looking frantically for something to use as a weapon. Because words, as the knot in his stomach informs him helpfully, are probably not going to cut it after all.

(But Dean's axe will, if he doesn't find a way out of this stat.) ]