he/him/his
thirty-two
January 25th
Sootopolis
Bisexual
Doctor
Grunt
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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Laurence Whateley
PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY
POSTED ON Apr 22, 2024 2:26:57 GMT
Seconds felt like hours, as the monkey tallied their votes, his breaths, while already labored, almost felt empty, as if his lungs had simply been filled with sand. They had ultimately voted to trust, though the tension of betrayal from the dummy wards was almost palpable, a restless veil had wrapped around them all, with only their warden only to rip it off...Now, it was time to pray the other ward had given them the same graces.
The doctor let a small whisper under his breath, a prayer.
It was the megalopolans were the ones who had broken the news to them, the announcement that both had ultimately bent to trust one another, yet the third ward had chosen to forsake his own.
"What? This is not what was told! When did you say that the third party voting with us?!"
The question had been coated in venom, as Laurence looked to face the monkey in rage, his features obscured in the mask he'd been unjustly bestowed. He tried to move forward, however the idea of such had immediately kept him in his place. They'd damn near kill a man who incited issues and damn near fought their warden, he'd not be such an example.
His anger would be glossed over, the megalopolans ignoring such a thing as they began to corral them onto the platform and descended lower into the prison. It had seemed that their punishment would begin. It would take a moment for them to descend, to see that the ward under them had already been emptied, with no sign of his daughter there, when the final floor had been reached. The floor they had gotten to had been pitch black, and almost impossible to navigate, but for those who had managed to be bold enough to try to wander, to find their surroundings, they'd feel something at their feet. It'd been Laurence would touch something cold though, the familiar texture of skin before he'd let out a shout, throwing the arm into the distance where it'd make a dull thud on the floor, and found itself hidden again, waiting to be found.
"FUCK!"
He clammed up immediately, feeling bile rise in his throat as he tried to steel himself. It was an arm. The doctor heard himself protest, an arm.
The damned would have little time to wander, the warden's puppets quick to give them their task and credit their judges, before they too seemed to be consumed by darkness. They had been tasked to clean this place up...And by filth, they had meant the bodies that had been littered around them. If that hadn't been what made him almost yell, then it'd be the cry that had sounded out far from. They had been heard almost once the Megalopolan had left from the dim light source they had, its figure being replaced by something more monstrous, the figure almost asphyxiated by the chains around them, and when Laurence blinked, it found that it too had gone back into the cover of the gloom. However, it had been with them, for more screams had sounded out again.
It was instinctual to move, to try to find cover among either the mochi that had been around them or the deceased, however, the chain prevented such, daring to choke those who had received the short end of the voting stick. And with such, the doctor, in a quick sense of judgment lay on the floor, feeling the coolness of it wash over his already feverish body. He had not been mistaken for what he had seen, that hooded monstrosity that revealed itself for the briefest of moments. it had been set on them, and for such, when he lay on the ground, he stilled himself, hoping that it wouldn't find him. Hoped that maybe it'd treat him how it'd treat the few corpses that it would have stumbled upon, like nothing.
TLDR: Laurence fucking flops on the ground and pretends to be a corpse, hoping that Ogrepon doesn't find him and beat the shit out of him.
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