IC Inbox

[tergiversant]

[The message that plays when you receive Rufus Barma's inbox is simple, curt, and almost annoyed to have to do this.]

Be succinct.





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Comments

honestly I just like using this icon

[retraced]

[The illusion is more than enough to fool Gilbert. He hears the wood crack, feels the talons around his middle, and then all at once he's dragged out into the hallway and tossed aside. He hits the opposite wall and slides to the ground, landing on one knee with a painful crack.

Raven stirs, but Gilbert doesn't call him out just yet. He's hovering just there beneath the surface, but unlike the last time that Gilbert had to use the power of his Chain to negate the Barma duke, he's not so quick in his current state.]

It's a glorious one

[tergiversant]

[Rufus Barma steps into the hall after him, high heels crisp on the wooden floors. The Dodo's 'summoning' is released in a flurry of black feathers and Barma pulls out his fan, the edged blades covering half of his face.]

Pathetic.

Thou art a tool, dulled by grief and fear. Wish of me thine answers? Sharpen thy resolve, Raven.

[retraced]

[He stumbles to his feet, bracing himself against the wall as he watches those feathers scatter. It hasn't yet occurred to him that he's once more the victim of an illusion and not a real threat. Probably it won't take much longer, though.]

Answers...what answers did you give him? What did you give in exchange for that?!

[tergiversant]

[The bruises are real enough, as the blood vessels beneath Gilbert's skin expand to dump their contents, the nerves believing the injury. Though like any injury, its permanence was doubtful.]

Tis as I spake unto thee, a moment past... Ye hath nothing to offer me as ye are. As long as thou shalt have me as such, I remain allied.

Tis all ye art entitled to.

[He turns to walk down the hall, robes billowing around him.]

[maddeninghatter]

[ As Barma turns, he'll find himself face to face with a certain somebody. A somebody who's got a particular talent for turning up at the worst possible time. ]

Dear me. Walking away when someone's talking to you, whyyy....

[ He has a bag of caramel corn and he crunches down on a handful, noisily. ]

...that's not very nice~!

[retraced]

[Gilbert is still standing on the other side of the hallway, watching Barma's retreating back and knowing that there's nothing he can do if he follows him. His Chain will destroy this hallway, and Oz's remaining possessions with it, and wouldn't he be angry to return tomorrow and have nothing to wear?

Break's presence shouldn't surprise him, and yet somehow it does. He watches from a distance, still leaning against the wall.]

[tergiversant]

[Of course. He stops, assessing the Hatter's mood as well as anyone can.]

Nice is a close kin of pity.

[maddeninghatter]

I suppose you're right. That explains why Lady Sheryl is so nice to you, hm?

[ Crunch! ]

Did you get lost, by the way?

[retraced]

[Just pretend he's a fly on the wall...!]

[tergiversant]

[For Rufus Barma, the large shows of anger were always just that: Shows.

This was a simple stilling, eyes narrowing on the Hatter.]

A pointless query. Ask what ye mean to know, Hatter. Or step aside.

[maddeninghatter]

Hm?

[ The most innocent of innocent expressions. Okay, his gaze is glittering, but you know, apart from that. ]

I'm simply inquiring whether you're in your dotage. Cos it's a sign of senility, milord, losing your way in familiar places.

[ He licks his fingers. Candy corn is sticky, yo. ]

Or did you have some other reason for being in Oz's room? Any ideas, Gilbert?

[retraced]

[He looks between the two men, hesitantly. Even from this distance he can tell that no matter what he says here, Break is going to instigate Barma into giving him some information.]

He says...Oz left something for him.

[tergiversant]

Tis with fortune, I possess all of my senses.

And he hath seen himself, the veracity of mine claim.

[maddeninghatter]

[ He begins to answer, but stops abruptly, holding up one finger to Barma. He tilts his head and... sniffs. ]

Dear, oh dear. It smells like something's been burning~! Haha! Oz must have "left you" his books or his papers, and there was something about them you didn't care for.

Gilbert, I don't suppose you happened to see what it was he set fire to, hm?

[retraced]

Break -

[That part he's still not sure how to explain. A moment of hesitance and he finally answers. But it's clear from the tone of his voice that he understands that said answer is too emotional a point for him to reasonably deal with, whatever the motive behind the destruction was. That's becoming more and more clear the calmer he becomes.]

A letter that Oz left behind.

[tergiversant]

[Barma's cold, even tone was not crafted to sooth it, either. There's an edge of impatience to it.]

A custom, to dispose of a missive once it has been accepted.

Unless ye hath discovered something of interest, I believe us done.