Naturally, Penny had protested to Victoria, both about her protection detail and about all the additional people at the Men of Letters headquarters. They were in themselves a security risk, she argued: with so many strangers with unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar habits, the enemy did not even need to be shapeshifters to infiltrate the organisation again. Penny had scoffed at the idea to use simple red armbands, arguing they were easy to fake or steal from slain agents, and proposed instead to use pass-phrases that changed daily and tattooed markings concealed beneath the clothes. It was all a theatre though. What could they really do to stop Belial? This late in, Penny still had few ideas and fewer options.

Amongst the hectic work and preparations, Penny found herself just trying to enjoy her last days of life and liberty. She mostly spent her days and her nights with Ian, focusing on their courtship, all back to front from the proper way of doing things, but so much more enjoyable for it. It was funny, she thought, that she should be so happy when so close to death, and so happy only because she was.

As Penny awoke, or seemed to, at least, and got a sense of her surroundings and heard the insidious voice of Belial, she found she was not afraid, thanks to the warmth and safety of Ian behind her. Reasoning she must be dreaming, Penny surreptitiously pressed her fingers against the headboard—if they sank through, she could begin lucid dreaming and control his dream.

'I think it's high time you went back in your box, Belial.' Penny replied, in a cool and confident voice. It had been so long since they'd last met, at her home in Devon in 1863, and he'd only used his agents against her since then. She supposed he did not care to speak with her and toy with her when he did not have the need, so if he was communicating now, then he must be ready to take her. Was this it, then? Was he striking early to beat Victoria's preparations? A chill of fear crept over her, but Penny found she was glad to finally get this over with and end it. 'What do you want?'

Seeing the grizzly scene Alice called for help. She did not scream incoherantly, but instead called for help.

Penny: I've come to take you, of course, his voice comes calmly. Meanwhile, you try to put your fingers through the headboard but it is no use. This does not bode well. Why do you think I've not tried to take you before now? I've had my hook in you from the very beginning. Your own blood makes you weak to me. Your lineage has sworn fealty to me from the very beginning. It won't let you disobey me now. As he talks, a doorway forms in the darkness. Come to me, child. We have preparations, you and I. ooc: Roll 2 will saves please, DC 25. If you succeed, you can fight the urge to walk through the door. If not, you'll start headed that way, even though mentally you still have your free will, it's just your body that seems to be disobeying you. In order to actually make it through the door, you'll need to fail your will save twice. If you make it either time, you'll break his hold.

Alice: Seeing your reaction, Crimwell stands quickly, crossing the room to stop you with a wince. No, no, it's quite alright! he assures you. I did this for you! Look, he points to the bullets. Six bullets, see? Just for you. From my own blood. They will instantly kill all save the most powerful beings within a single shot. I doubt they'd take down Hecate or Belial, but they will hurt them a great deal. And any other problem you encounter will be done away with in a single hit. I only wish I could give you more it's just...the price for these is very steep, he gives a weak smile. You can tell that there's more to the statement than that, but he's trying to gloss over it.

She screamed for help again. She took off her belt...tourniquet, she needed one. She wrapped the belt around his arm above the elbow. She tightened it as much as she could. She jerked it and punched a hole in the belt for the tine. "Listen to me, Crim, listen carefully. I need you more than those bullets. Now you must live and you must not stop me from getting you help."

'I swore no fealty, I am not bound by blood.' Penny declared, drawing back the sheet and sitting up to show her defiance of Belial. 'And you interrupted my lineage.' Realising that this was no dream, this was quite real, Penny twisted back to wake up Ian— No, she didn't, she turned toward the voice and the door. Yes, best not wake Ian just yet, better to learn what she could first. Then she felt a cold hard floor on the soles of her bare feet, as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Yes, she could feign obedience, go along with this a little to learn what Belial wanted, what forces lay in wait. She rose from the bed, her long white nightgown falling around her, and took a step toward the door. No. Yes, she could take a few more steps... No! Yes. No! Ian!

Those thoughts were not her own, those were insidious whispers in the side of her mind. Penny shouted furious refusals, try to cry out, struggled futilely to move in any other way, yet it was no use, some foul force had control over her body and she moved inexorably away from the bed, away from Ian, and toward the door, toward Belial. No!


OOC: Will saves 21 and 19, both failed. :(
16:55, Today: Penny Dreadful rolled 19 using 1d20+11.  Will save 2.
16:55, Today: Penny Dreadful rolled 21 using 1d20+11.  Will save 1.

Alice: Crim sits heavily in the chair as you tend to his wounds. Judging by his blood loss, it is half involuntary and he looks rather pale. Ah, well...perhaps I did cut a bit deep, he admits almost sheepishly. Well worth it though, my dear. I'll live too. Just maybe not as long as I otherwise would. Only six years less, though. In the big scheme of things, that's no so bad, is it? He gives a weak smile. Fortunately the tourniquet seems to be helping, and a moment later a woman enters, having heard your plea for help. Seeing the situation, she mumbles something about getting a doctor and rushes off again. Now, you must promise not to lose these bullets, eh? He continues, good naturedly. He looks on the verge of passing out.

Penny: Belial chuckles at your words. No. I perfected your lineage. Your blood is mine, your body is mine, and soon your soul will be too. As you head towards the door, you somehow are able to look back at Ian. He still sleeps, but it is fitful and restless, as though he's trying to wake up but cannot. Belial's voice holds amusement as he speaks, Look at him squirm. He's trying so hard to wake up. I think I'll save myself a future hassle though, shall I? With that last question, suddenly Ian stiffens. His eyes fly open and every muscle goes rigid. A strangled sound comes from his throat and then, with a horrific noise, dozens of loud cracks sound at once, bones snapping, reminding you awfully of when Josephine's body was so horribly broken weeks before. Ian, however, is more than broken. Blood spurts out his ears, his eyes and nose, even his lips part as the red liquid runs from between them. He lays there, unable to move, crimson seeping all over the white sheets, as he trembles and chokes, drowning and gasping in his own blood, still paralyzed in place. And then you're through the door, feet still moving of their own volition, no matter how you're screaming inside.

The door closes behind you, you find yourself in a white room, floor to ceiling, all made of marble, windowless, door-less, for it has disappeared. A single chair sits in the middle. Finally, you are in control of your body once more, as you collapse in an exhausted heap on the floor.

Belial had allowed her to look back, of course, not to taunt her and certainly not in kindness, but to force her to be a mute and helpless witness to what he did to Ian. Realising this and where his cruel words inevitably led, a feeling of utter dread came over Penny. No! she tried to scream, but it was only inside her own head. She hoped in vain that Ian would somehow hear her thoughts and awaken, that Belial might hear and somehow be persuaded from his course. Ian, wake up! Ian! Belial, please, you don't have to do his, I'll go—

Then it happened. Penny couldn't look away, couldn't close her eyes, couldn't go to him, couldn't save him. She could only scream and sob and despair, and struggle to move without effect, as the love of her life was brutally broken and killed before her eyes. If not for the paralysing magic, she might collapsed to her knees.

But instead her treacherous legs turned and carried her away, putting the grisly scene out of her sight but never ever out of her mind. Released from the spell, dropped on the floor, she barely registered the white room around her. Penny was still screaming and weeping in her thoughts, and cursing the very being of Belial.

Alice promised, "I won't loose them. You have to STEY AWAKE!" She shouted at him to keep him awake. He had to stay awake.

Alice: Crim obeys, though it clearly takes effort. It's alright my dear. I'll be alright, he assures you, though he sways as he speaks. Fortunately, the woman was quick in bringing the doctor and soon Crim is being cared for, a tourniquet and pressure finally stop the bleeding. The whole time Crim's eyes flutter as though threatening to fall asleep but you manage to keep him with you until he's successfully stabilized and the doctor deems him fit to rest. It's a great relief, to say the least, but needless to say you won't be resting much that night after such a scare. Later the next morning, when he is awake again, Crim sits up in his bed, looking a bit sheepish. I hope I didn't alarm you. I just...wanted to help.

Penny:
As you lay there, sobbing, you become aware of a person standing behind you. When you turn, you see Belial, looking mildly amused. Oh, I almost feel bad, he chuckles. Really though, he'd have died just as quickly in your precious little attack you have planned. Even with Solomon's ring, it doesn't matter. You don't have it, and all I need is you. Let our armies battle it out. When the time comes, we'll have a private party all our own, and it shall be delightful. His wicked smile spreads.

After a while, when her sobs grew hoarse and her chest ached, it felt to Penny as though she would have no tears left to shed. And yet she did, again and again, and she always would. Ian, Ian, how could it be Ian? Why had she been so foolish as to let herself love him, so close to the end. It should've been her! Finally, sensing the loathsome presence behind her, Penny bit back any further sobs and wiped the tears from her wet cheeks, though she could not hide her reddened eyes and cracked voice. But now, even now, she would show the stiff upper lip of an Englishwoman.

Wearily, Penny rose to her feet and turned her hate-filled eyes on Belial. 'But they don't need me.' she promised him bitterly, 'They will destroy you, Worthless One.'

Alice was feeling relief and anger all at once. "You cut off your damnded hand! Crim you cut off your hand for some bullets. I could slap you. Bullets, six bullets, and you don't get a hand any more. I need you, you lunk, I ain't about to lookin for another man. Further more if these bullets ain't gonna kill Beliel." She growled in frustration. "You are more important than some bullets. Next time you get a damned fool idea like that, ask me if it is a good one before you go about it." Then she kissed him because he was still alive.

Penny: Belial smirks at that. I don't think you're exactly in a position to be confident. He says with mocking softness. But whatever you need to keep yourself entertained, I suppose. Now, I have things to do. I'll see you in a couple days, eh? he arches a brow. With that, he leaves you in the empty room, walking through the door which disappears behind him.

The room itself is barren and empty, save the chair, which is high backed, wooden and uncomfortable. It's an impossible room, clearly made of unnatural means. Time seems to stand still here, every second ticking away feels like minutes. And there seems to be absolutely no escape. Still dressed in your nightclothes, you don't even have your usual garb to comfort you.

Alice: Crim looks sheepish, kissing you back. Oh don't you worry. We have ways of fixing my hand. It was worth it. Every bit. He assures you. I'd even sacrifice the other one, but I'm afraid you'd actually kill me if I did, he laughs.

The rest of the morning passes better for you. His hand is cared for and you are told that in time it will be made whole again, which brings you great relief. Unfortunately, his life will be six years the shorter for his little trick, a year for each bullet, but he was clearly aware of that sacrifice.

Eventually you leave him to rest, particularly when Victoria summons you. She looks worried and in a rush, for she's still busy making last second preparations. Ian and Penny were supposed to meet with me twenty minutes ago. I've not heard back from my security either. Do you think you could take Emma and Lily to Ian's apartment and see if things are alright? I have a bad feeling... Her black eyes are filled with worry.

Should you accept the assignment, you find yourself in a cab with the other two ladies, both looking as on edge as you feel. As you near the building, the feeling worsens. There should be twelve men posted here. The best that the men of letters has to offer. Lily bolts out the door first, even before the carriage has stopped, rushing through the back entrance and up the stairs, two at a time. You're not far behind her, though poor Emma struggles to catch up.

Ian's door is locked but that doesn't stop Lily. Without a thought she kicks it in, the wood splintering from the force of her kick. Likely her angelic blood had something to do with that. As she runs in, she stops dead in her tracks and a wail of pure heartbreak slips from the native's lips. Penny is nowhere to be seen, and Ian lies in his bed, eyes closed and blood absolutely everywhere.

With his parting shot echoing in her ears, Penny watched Belial go, her blue eyes narrowed and driving daggers at the demon prince's back, and at the wall that was left behind. If he thought her broken, or powerless, or defeated, then he was sorely mistaken. She, Penny Dreadful, would fight to the bitter bloody end to have her victory and her revenge. For Ian.

But still, her state was a dire one. Wasting no more time – she could mourn in the proper way later – Penny cast her eyes about her prison cell, assessing every last thing she had to work with. A chair, her nightclothes, four bare walls without door or windows. Her intellect, her cunning, her spirit and determination. So she set to examining the minutest details, from the make of the chair and where it could have come from, to faint markings on the walls to the dust on the floor, especially near where the door had been, and estimated the dimensions of the room. She treated it as a crime scene, with herself the victim. She had questions to answer – such as how as the air got in, for one. She wanted to work out what this room might have been used for before, where she might be, what magic there was, how she might escape.

But, perhaps, she just need to keep her mind occupied and distracted, not focused on her fate, not picturing her last sight of Ian.

Either way, she had the time.


OOC: Searching for clues, useful information, anything really. How big is the room? How does air get in, what is the light source, and what's hanging from the ceiling?

Search 24, or Take 20 for 36.
16:29, Today: Penny Dreadful rolled 24 using 1d20+16. search.
Investigate 21, or Take 20 for 39
19:05, Today: Penny Dreadful rolled 21 using 1d20+19.  Investigate.
(updated my rolls after my level up)

Alice was dumbstuck by the scene. As was her normal she did not panic, instead she reached into a pocket and took out what was left of the healing vial. He carefully made her way to him and opened his mouth, pouring the rest of it into him.

For reference there are 39 drops left, each healing 10 HP
This message was last edited by the player at 15:21, Mon 24 Jan 2022.

Penny: As you explore, the hours drag on and on. In spite of your grief, you feel hungry, thirsty. Belial doesn't seem to care about your physical needs, however. He's left you with literally nothing but the chair. The room itself seems to be impossible. It is well lit, but there is no source of it that you can tell. It simply is. Likewise, there is no ventilation or source of air that you can find. Nothing but the small, windowless, door-less room not much bigger than a typical bedroom. The chair, even, is unremarkable. It looks new, smooth and well made, in spite of its simplicity. You decide you may not be somewhere real. At least not in the traditional sense. Much like Loki conjures up his sweets, this room could have been similarly created. How does one fight pure supernatural power such as this?

Despite this conclusion, you still try. You go about the room, endlessly poking and prodding, scrutinizing, hoping for some weakness, some point that could be exploited. But no. Belial is clearly right to be so confident in his hold on you. You feel so incredibly helpless, frustrated, grieved and frantic that it's an effort to hold yourself together. Especially as time ticks on, getting you ever closer to your seemingly inevitable fate. And then...something happens. One of the smooth, white walls suddenly seems to glow as bright red markings appear as though by themselves. A sigil of some kind, being drawn as though by invisible hands. And then, a door appears, deep red with a gold knob. Belial, no doubt. You ready yourself, having expected him to make an appearance for a while now. But no. As the door opens, it is not Belial you see. Rather, two figures. One, dressed all in black, with dark, wispy hair and a scruffy beard. Crowley? Beside him is a woman, somewhat on the short side. Her hair is cut in a shaggy layered bob. She wears black, form fitting jeans with rugged looking ankle boots. A light black denim jacket with worn holes and tears fits comfortably over what you recognize as a light pink T-shirt. It has a drawing of an owl across the front, with the word, "Whom," on it, a play on words, clearly. The woman has a pack slung across her back and in her hands is a rather nasty looking shotgun. Immediately you recognize her. Kate.

ooc: Here's the shirt! Just imagine it in light pink.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1...allery-1-4&frs=1


Alice:

At first, nothing happens. It takes about thirty long seconds for any kind of reaction, and in that time you feel certain that you're too late, that he's already dead. Lily seems to share this worry, for she kneels next to the bed, tears running down her face. Then, Ian's body jolts, his back arching as every muscle contracts violently. His eyes shoot open and his head tilts back as he lies there in what looks to be a very painful spasm. Then, finally, he gives a ragged gasp, struggling to breathe as though he's forgotten how. It takes some minutes for him to breathe normally and at last, with your and Lily's help, you get him to a seated position as he sits there, trembling. It's clear that your healing elixir has had quite the effect, and that he was very close to death indeed. "P-Penny," He manages to gasp. B-Belial t-took her!

“Girl!”” Kate spotted Panny and flashed a grin. “Who am I here to shoot?” Despite her words she slung the shotgun over her shoulder and opened her arms for a hug.

It had already been late in the night, and in fact early in the morning, when she'd been taken, but Penny stubbornly ignored her tiredness, her hunger and thirst, her grief and the sick feeling in her stomach, to search desperately for some means of escape.

She was by now certain that the room was fake, whether created by magic or wholly hallucinatory. It was too plain and lacking imperfections, and then there was the mystery of the air, light, and door. She considered if she was caught in a dream-world such as a djinn might make, as Ian had been trapped in, but discounted it, for she felt the passage of time and this was no fantasy she could wake herself up from. Not even when she stabbed her leg with a broken bit of chair.

Oh yes, one of the first things she'd done had been to swing that mocking wooden chair against the wall, kick it apart and smash it up. It was a satisfying release of rage and frustration, and when she was done, she had some useful pieces of wood of assorted lengths she could use for various purposes, from improvised singlestick clubs to thrusting daggers, to smaller shivs, both scattered obviously about the room and concealed in secret within her nightgown. That she tore strips off, twisted together for strength, tied to bits of wood, and formed a crude garrotte. Reality or a dream, when they came for her, Penny intended to turn the white room red and black with demon blood. And, when all else failed, she was confident she could cut her own carotid artery.

Penny was furiously grinding her sticks against the marble wall as if she could chisel her way out, or at least sharpen them, when the door manifested again. In a moment, Penny scrambled across the room, pressed her back to the wall, clutched two sticks tightly in her blistered hands, and waited to ambush whoever or whatever came through. She turned and lunged—



And hesitated. No. This wasn't right. Why was she here? It didn't make sense. It was impossible. And with Crowley, the crossroad demon? A flash of hope faded swiftly to wariness in Penny's red eyes. She stayed in her fighting stance, two pointed sticks raised in her defence. 'We are past petty tricks, Belial.' she spat.


OOC: Spot 21, Sense Motive 14

Kate dropped her arms and kept her distance. “Whatever’s going on here is mucking up my timeline in the future. I doubt there’s anything I can say right now to make you trust me. I hardly believe I’m here myself! But we’re getting you out of this room whether you believe me or not. So you can drop your pointy sticks, I’m not fighting you.”
As proof Kate dropped the shotgun and kicked it towards Penny.

Her exhausted mind tried to process the problem, for logic was her only tool when her feelings were as tattered as her nightgown. Having been accused, possibly exposed, an impostor would either drop their act or else redouble their efforts to convince her, not this. And why? She was a prisoner, at Belial's mercy, of which he had none. He hadn't tried this before, so why start now? If torture and torment and toying with her mind were his desire, then he couldn't started hours ago.

Eventually, Penny was forced to realise what her heart was already yelling at her – that this was indeed Kate Piper, her friend, fellow hunter, her mother, by some twist of the timeline. But how? Slowly, warily, Penny lowered her arms, but did not drop her pair of sticks. 'Kate?' she said hoarsely, recognition gleaming in her tired blue eyes. Penny stumbled forward a few paces; she only wanted to join her, touch her to see if she was real, but her arms wrapped around her and she buried her face in her shoulder, and wept, with relief and with fresh grief.

At last, wrenching herself from her sobs, Penny stuttered 'B-but how are you here? Where are we?'

Alice looked around, and found Lily. "Lily can you go fetch your husband? I think we're gonna need him." Then she gave Ian smile, "Rest, we will get this sorted and bring Penny back to ya." Then she went to the door and began shouting the alarm. It was time to marshal the troops. She wasn't going to let her friend go through this alone.

Penny & Kate: Penny sees Crowley roll his eyes, clearly a bit uncomfortable with the display of emotion. He answers for Kate. You're in an outer dimension of sorts, he says simply. One created by Belial. If you know what you're doing and have the right components, it's not so hard a spell to master, though I may have had a little help figuring this one out. He admits with distaste. It's a prison, pure and simple. And one we're here to get you out of. You notice he looks antsy to leave already.

Alice: Lily is gone in a flash, leaving you with Ian who manages to stand, shakily. His entire body trembles, strangely enough, and you are surprised how weak he still seems to be, given how much of that bottle you used on him. He immediately starts dressing, pulling on his clothes in a rush as he speaks. I don't know where she is. There was a door. A bloody door, just appeared in the room. She walked through it, Belial made her. And then, gone, he shakes his head. We need someone who can trace it. You think Crim could do it?

Penny gave a narrowed gaze to Crowley. Despite his past assistance, she could not trust a demon in any circumstance, much less this one, but she could hardly afford not to now. Kate had evidently already decided to accept his alliance, and Penny could trust Kate without hesitation or doubt. 'Alright. How do we get out of here?' she asked directly. She had so many others questions and concerns, but they all they had to wait before their immediate issue.

Kate held Penny close anger burning in her chest. The woman was a mess and while she didn’t know all that she’d been through it was clear Penny was stretched pretty thin. Originally it was supposed to be a quick in and out mission but now seeing the state of her friend, daughter (it still felt weird) Kate was beginning to get the itch to kill something.

“Crowley should be able to get us out the same way we got in. Are you the only one here?”

Alice shook her head, "Crim is indisposed. Cut off his own hand to make some stupid bullets. Men." Even though she seemed exasperated she is also clearly touched by the lengths he went to for her. "You seem weak still, you okay partner?"

At Kate's question, Penny could not help glancing around the small, bare chamber, devoid of anyone else. 'Of course I am.' she answered with a weary, wry smile as she found her hunter's humour again. 'The only one I've seen is Belial. And I have no wish to see him again. Were there any guards?' Still clutching her broken chair legs, clad only in ripped nightgown and pride, Penny walked with them toward the portal into her personal prison, being determined to leave.