The Hidden Door-A Role Play (AKA The Most Dangerous Coffee Shop II)

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Amer said:
(This Alex post is hilarious)
Noah scrunched up his nostrils and grabbed for Alex’s bread. “Heyy no fair!” He said. “He gets bread and I don’t?” He made a grab for Alex’s bread, but Cam batted his had down.
“You already got bread,” Cam the nutritionist said, through a mouthful of bread. “What’s fair is if I get some too! So I get yours. Communism. Maybe you’ll get bread after you’re done.”
Noah pouted as he ate the orange fry things. At least they weren’t sweet like sweet potatoes, he hated sweet potatoes.

Korim nodded and lifted the table pretty easily, because mild super-strength, you know? He could tell by the girl’s raised eyebrows that that table was usually pushed.
He winked.
Thus continued his playful eagerness to please her.
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Alex chewed the bread with a viciousness that was completely unnecessary in the situation. He paused for a second to consider Cam’s words. “Comm-mune-mism.” He mumbled over the bread filling his cheeks. That word was important, he could feel it. He was determined to remember it for later use.
 
HeavensHens88 said:
Initially, Ciro was so surprised that his tears momentarily dammed up.
Then he started getting the gravity of what she’d just done, and they shoved right on through- if not more forcefully than before.
Slowly, he unfurled his fingers and carefully worked them around hers until the grasp was no longer one-sided. It wasn't the average perpendicular, palm-to-palm hold; no, he went to the painstaking lengths of matching up every single finger to hers and embracing them individually.
Sure, this way was made it a lot more inescapable, and, knowing all too well how nothing unnerved people on their own more than being tied up out of their own realm of control, maybe that hadn't been the safest move.

But it seemed the right way to express that he wasn't about to let her go.

Having someone else's hand in his always awakened a sense of contrast for Ciro. When it was his little sisters, he was abruptly awakened to just how callous-roughened his hands were compared to their undamaged gloss. When it was his mother, he marveled at how big his hands were compared to the hands of the woman who'd brought him into this world. When it was with a friend, foe, or absolute stranger on the street he'd grabbed to keep from harm, he always got a shock at how much warmer his hands were, yet how much steadier his pulse was.
Now, with Aella, it was everything at once, except the roles were so very reversed on the last two.
The radiant heat of her hand definitely transcended anything living he'd ever grasped; touching it was indeed tolerable, but it was amazingly surreal in a way he couldn't describe. He guessed it was to be expected, but then looped back on that thought and wondered if the longer her flames had been out, the cooler they got.
Her pulse raced so wildly across his palm that he could feel it more than his own. His blood pressure had elevated, too, but nothing like hers. He knew weeping was bound to be the primary contributor to her quickened pulse, but what else? Was she nervous? Regretful? Uncomfortable? All three, and then some?
He could've, maybe even should've, asked, but also found that he couldn't- actually, shouldn't.

He didn't know what to say anymore, really.

Instead, he squeezed her hand, taking so much care to ensure that it was perfect - gentle, unhurried, and meaningful.
And suddenly he realized that said it all.
I’m here.
I get it.
Remember that thing about pride? I think something you should be proud of is being able to not be okay.
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Aella's gaze was transfixed on their hands as he wrapped his hand around hers, nearly pulling away. She was startled by how cold his hands were at first, forgetting just how low the body temputure of a normal human typically was, unlike hers that was far past feverish temputure at almost all times.
But then by the gentle, but inescapable way he grasped her hand. Every inch of her was tensed, seconds away from zapping him with a quick spark and pulling away, until it became apparent he wasn't about to do anything to her. Not that she expected him to do anything.

It was just her typical reaction.

Quickly, it settled in exactly what was happening. Far to quickly, actually. There was a breaking point when he gave a squeeze of her hand, not that it was that big of a gesture, but in that moment she felt every wall she had built just cave in. Every mental block, every room of closed off memories, every block she had ever perfected and created to keep people out. They came crumbling down like feathers in a breeze.
There was no saying why the tears suddenly fell twice as hard or why her shoulders trembled violently with repressed sobs, but they did. Maybe it was because they had already been coming and at that point they just wouldn't stop. Or maybe it was the first positive, sober physical touch she had gotten in what felt like years. His hand could have easily crushed hers like people had done before, but he didn't.

He was just there.

He was there and he wasn't trying to leave or force her. He had her, and she had him, and she had no intention of letting go.
Until, that was, the reality settling in. That she was weeping so hard her chest ached and breaths came in shuddering gasps in front of him and clutching his hand like it was her only lifeline. She forced herself to sit straighter, her free hand covering her mouth abruptly. Her gaze redirected to anywhere but him, and when she spoke she tried, and failed, to keep her voice steady. "I'm sorry."

But she never once let go of him.
 
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LittleBrownie said:
The we-sa stretched out its wings and shot up into the air with great momentum, leaving the wolf to face the gale of wind released from its wings when it parted ways from the ground. It soared high into the sky, only appearing as some small black winged creature as it flew to the north, towards the deepest and highest reaches of the mountains.

Stillness.

Complete silence was all that encapsulated Take, unable to sense or touch a single thing in his dreamlike state.

It was almost as if he was drifting through space, where gravity failed to anchor him down to where he belonged. But no, he was here, aimlessly floating with no sense of weight or pressure.

That’s when it all came crashing down, a heaviness came upon his chest, almost preventing his ability to breathe. His eyes snapped open, gasping for breath as he suffocated. Slowly, a tightening sensation coiled around his neck, fastening with each passing second. His hands flew up to his neck in aid of prying off whatever was strangling him. Although only his left hand bothered to assist him, while his right somehow ceased to exist. His fingers dug at his neck, trying to find what blocked his airways. But, there was nothing.

Nothing.

“B-B.. Bl-air” he managed to choke out, desperate for the only person he considered living for. She was his literal lifeline. It was all that he had, even if it sounded incredibly selfish– it was true. She was the one who introduced him to true warmth, affection, and love. Even if Blair was hot-tempered ignorant, hard-headed, and made him want to literally fight her; she was also protective, capable, and tender.

She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met.

And I want to spend the rest of my life with her.

Take slowly started to release as the last of his oxygen faded out of him.

But I’m really going die, aren’t I?

Faintly, whispers started entering his head, completely unintelligible, but they sounded Borealean. His eyelids grew heavy, and soon he was unable keep his hand on his neck.

The whispers grew louder and louder, until he heard a disgustingly familiar shrill voice screaming at him.

“NO! YOU CAN’T LET HIM!”

The demon.

“TACO!”

“YOU CAN’T LET HIM CONTROL YOU!”
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As the ghost of we-sa's first wind, combined with a scattering of stones and dirt, met Blair's muzzle, a sharp, long howl of despair left her tongue. Claws scrambled blindly, rolling herself onto her belly with a groan of pain. Her gaze followed the we-sa's figure until she could see it no longer, now half-standing, half laying on the forest floor.
Take's name was a mantra under the wolf's breath as she carried herself, more so dragged, in the direction of where the we-sa had gone. It was a shot in the literal dark, however, with the dizzying darkness surrounding her vision and the suffocating pain in her lungs. There was no way all of her bones where intact, and she was positive she could taste blood.

Shuddering legs gave out beneath her, her jaw colliding with the ground, pathetic whines escaping her. Take had been there seconds ago. There was no way it wasn't a dream.
It was a terror, right?
It was one of the terrors the wolf sent her into during the moons.
But those terrors had never felt so real.
Pain had never been so vivid.
Fear had never been so colorful.
Take.
She forced her eyes open- when had she closed them? -staring at the looming trees surrounding her, hoping so terribly he would be there, standing there, laughing at the terrible joke he had played and the pain would fade and every thing would be perfectly fine.

He wasn't.

....

She had failed again.
 
But there he was, the little gremlin-like version of himself swimming midair towards him.

“TACO!”

Take’s eyes managed to crack open a little more, barely able to focus on the demons face as he grew closer. There was visible anger but desperation on the little gremlins face, but at a horrible time like this, Take wanted to laugh from how the demon thrashed and waved his arms about in order to make his way to Take.

“DON’T LET HIM!”

What the hell is he talking about..

The demon clambered onto Take’s limp floating body and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt before shaking Take extremely violently back and forth.

“YOU CAN BREATHE FOOL! ITS A TRICK!”

A what?

That’s when Take took his first breath, then his next and so on. Relief washed over him like a wave, no longer feeling the weight crushing his chest and suffocating tightness around his neck. The gravity changed, and they were no longer freely floating in pitch black darkness.

Take blinked a couple times and he was situated on something comfy, and there was a ceiling above his head. Realizing the demon was still laying on top of him, he quickly shoved the creature off. “What the hell was that? Who’s he?” he growled angrily, demanding answers as he sat himself up to investigate his surroundings.

He was in the living room of his apartment, just as dark and desolate as he remembered it. With the trademark dark stain on the carpet he created when he spilt a whole cup of soda and was never able to wash out. Of course he wasn’t really there, but he truly wished he was.

The demon plopped down on the ground with a ‘oof’ after being shoved forcefully and had to pick himself back up. “My tooshie” he whined, rubbing his backside in efforts to receive pity.

Take jumped up from the couch and snatched the demon by the horn with his left hand, picking up the pathetic creature to his height “Answer me damnit! What the hell is going on!?” he shouted. The demon squealed after being thrusted up into the air, knowing Take would send him straight into a wall if he didn’t oblige to his demands.

“Okay okay! It’s that Olim person! He has your right arm... and he’s trying to make you part of his army of fools that can’t think for themselves...”

“My what?” Take repeated, snapping his gaze to where his right arm was supposed to be. But there was nothing, as if his arm had been completely amputated. Instead of freaking out or giving some overdramatic reaction, he just returned his gaze to the demon.

“Is this some sort of joke?” he asked coldly, shaking the demon as he dangled there from his horn.

“It’s Olim. He’s been making your arm shake out there. But in here. It belongs to him. He’s trying to take over the both of us... We can’t let that happen.” the demon whispered solemnly.

Take gritted his teeth, releasing the demon from his grasp “We? There’s no we! It’s always just been me, me trying to control your stupid shenanigans of trying to hurt people and taking my body for yourself! So screw your we!”

“But Taco you don’t understandddd...” the demon cried out, groveling at Take’s feet, “If we don’t work togetherrr, he’s going to claim us as his ownnn.” he tried to sound as emotional as possible, wording it so Take could reconsider. Suddenly the demon hopped up and placed his hands on his hips “Plus, I’m the one that saved you just now! He was choking you out and making you think you were dying!” he argued, pretending as if he wasn’t just begging at Takes feet just now.

Take tossed himself back onto the couch, “So what, that doesn’t mean crap. And what the hell is this working together? Just some crap excuse to take over?” he muttered, not buying into the whole idea of ‘teamwork’.

“Tsk tsk tsk, Taco. I’m actually willing to put aside our differences to ensure that we don’t fall into Olim’s hands.. because if we do.. the whole group and Blair are totally screwed.” the demon explained, putting his hands behind his back like a little butler. “And the we-sa is taking us straight to him isn’t it? We should really act now, because you won’t be waking up for...” he brought up his wrist to check his nonexistent watch. “A good couple hours!” he announced enthusiastically, recalling the time it took Take to wake up the first time he was knocked out with the candelous dust.

Take cursed under his breath, knowing the demon was right. If Olim were to take control of his body, he was allowed full access to the demon inside him. He threw his head back onto some pillows, thinking of any possible options to solve his predicament. After some time of deliberation, Take finally made his decision.
“Okay.. here are the ground rules.” He sat forward and looked completely serious at the demon. He lifted a finger, “One, you’re not gonna hurt anybody from the group. Especially Blair. In fact, don’t even as so much as touch her or else this whole thing is over.” A second finger followed up, “Second, I’m gonna be in control. You’re just gonna lend me your stupid powers.”

The demon listened closely, shaking his head in disapproval, “But Take that isn’t how teamwork works, it has to be a joint effort. You can’t just have a pen with no ink and expect to write with it. You need the ink.” he pointed at himself, “I’m the ink.”

Take rolled his eyes, “Alright cut it out with that crap, lets just focus on freeing me from the we-sa.”

The demon lifted his hand up in front of Take, but quickly recoiled after remembering Take wouldn’t be able to shake it without a right hand.

“Oops” he snorted, “My mistake.” and offered his left, letting it combust into a wild blaze. “I won’t hurt anybody or whatever, particularly lame Blair once we escape from the we-sa.”

Take eyed the brilliant fire that swallowed up the small demons hand, “Don’t make me regret this, brat.” he scowled, bringing up his sole hand and letting it grasp the demons.

A wide, sinister grin spread across the demons face. “WAKEY WAKEY EGGS AND BAKEY!!”
 
Hana eventually awoke to a pounding, head splitting migraine after her stomach and bladder disrupted her deep slumber. She groaned and slowly sat up in the bed, letting her eyes flicker open to process where she was. She utterly felt horrible and was unable to identify some of the furniture in the dark room. Even so, she could feel the bile rising from her stomach to her throat, and she had to act quickly. Her hand flew up to her mouth to prevent herself from throwing up as she threw herself off the bed and staggered towards a wall with cracks of dim lighting shining through. Struggling to open the wooden shutters, she hardened her fist and punched them open, sending the shutters flying and banging up against the wall. That’s when Hana collapsed and puked out every single drink she had, luckily it all made it outside, and not on herself had she spent more time figuring out the lock on the shutters. Once the retching and heaving passes, her insides shivered with disgust at the aftermath, completely blaming herself for going so hard on the alcohol. She slumped up against the wall, unable to remember what had happened after her talk with Blair and her ungodly amount of staring at Aella.

Whatever happened tonight... was a complete mistake..

Hana slowly rose off the ground, feeling the cool night air that entered her room and hit her bare face. “Where’s.. my.. mask?” she mumbled to herself, lazily scanning the room that held an unsettling amount of dust and spiderwebs. Another artifact she discovered that was missing from the room was her beloved katana.

What.. have I done?

Fueled by her need to empty her bladder, Hana wobbled out of the room in her socks and into the hallway in search of a bathroom. That’s when she heard the noises of her group mates out in the main room, which only made her groan painfully and make her head swim from the smallest noises. Even though she was suffering from a grueling hangover, she was completely aware of her actions and surroundings with just one eye partly open.
 
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RoostersAreAwesome said:
Charlie made a sound that could only be described as a mix between the screech of a scandalized seagull and the squeak of a stepped on puppy. He stared at her and tugged weakly at the katana. “It’s mine.” He insisted. “Thneed thnief!”
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Nat, being a fleshy human who was gripping an extremely sharp blade, did the natural thing.
"AHA!" she crowed over her scarlet-affirmed supremacy. "I AM THE THNEED WHO BLEEDS. TAKE THAT, YOU CHEAP COPY."
 
HeavensHens88 said:
Nat, being a fleshy human who was gripping an extremely sharp blade, did the natural thing.
"AHA!" she crowed over her scarlet-affirmed supremacy. "I AM THE THNEED WHO BLEEDS. TAKE THAT, YOU CHEAP COPY."
Click to expand...
The sheath has fallen off. Charlie grinned maniacally. Some small part of him urged him to use caution, but he ignored that, of course. He waved the very sharp katana in the air victoriously. “My thneed made you bleed!”
 

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