CRAWLING, CRAWLING; UNEARTH THE SICKNESS ! static spreads and follows the autonomy of limbs, a constant buzzing in fully chargd finger tips; it burns, it burns, it melts, it hurts ! hush now, little mouse, we have to test if your legs can twitch and walk when your spine lacks its other half. what happens on the edges of civilization are the best kept secrets. cruelty lacks the refined edge of eager curiosity.
they say that vanity leads to a number of passion crimes — a sense of envy, of question of why can’t that be me ? it builds, it rises, it turns to unabashed rage, a spark of madness in the midst of blissful generosity. the entity likes to feed on hope, but they don’t talk about how it likes to feed on the wrongs too. i will remove a sin, it croons, if you take a life; what will you give to feel holy again ?
“ isn’t this a surprise. ” a mass rather than a singular point; carter’s voice echoes in the way that only something that resonates through the very mind does, “ i would’ve expected our dear trapper before you, but he’s oh so shy — he hasn’t come in for his check - up yet. ” it’s not so much a sour note in his voice as it is one that is dark. it quickly fluctuates, a buzzing drone, before the doctor claps his hands together, sparks flying, as he gestures with never - still hands towards the inside of léry’s with a cheery tint ( a small, giggled hint ).
“ ah, ah ! manners, carter — come in, come in, mister largo; tea ? ”
rhetorical, really. the entity doesn’t supply them with drink or feed, not when they don’t need it to cooperate.
@rigormori / starter call, for pavi.
BLINK, BLINK! One can almost hear the cartoon sound effect triggering as the Vanity flutters his eyelashes, either completely oblivious to or simply heedless of the electric predator looming over him, tittering for an opportunity— any opportunity—
It's only natural that Pavi should end up here. Steeped in the culture of surgery and corruption, he is a creature anomalously comfortable around instruments of PAIN and SUFFERING . Even those less than ethical— IF THE STOLEN FACE AFFIXED TO HIS OWN HADN'T GIVEN THAT ONE AWAY . He eyes the brutal invention of barbed wire and woof hanging at the Doctor's side with a curious gleam in his eye. Ooh, what's that! He'd have grabbed for it if not so enthralled with the very size of the man before him. ( He's like a Repoman. But his uniform is skimpier! Medico should invest in a mask before that faccia da carlino turns someone to stone— at least biceps are all the rage, haha! )
" Buongiorno, Dottore— " Such as most killers, the Vanity speaks with a voice unmistakable. Bouncing, lilting, thickly accented. His hands match Herman's in eternal unrest, fingers bowing one by one in quick succession to manufacture a flamboyantly lazy wave of greeting. "It's a-funny I end up here— I was just t'inking how I missed the hospital circuit and, DA-DA ! Like magic, the Pavi is here. Were you t'inking about how you missed a-pretty boys? Maybe t'e entity heard us. Piccolo sensale-!" He quips the last bit somewhere towards the sky before stepping inside the desolated Léry's Lobby, boot heels click, click, clicking on tile.
He stops to inspect a hook, grubby, selfish fingers grabbing at wire and screen as he errupts in a petulant scoff. " BULLSHIT . you get such cool hooks? No- how is it you get monitors and t'e Pavi gets STREET LAMPS ? " The enlightening display of his entitlement only continues as Pavi whirls on a heel, one fist on his hip as the other gestures wildly. " T'is is a NIGHTMARE ! It's like a-nobody even knows who I am! No drinking, no fucking, no parties, no fans! What am I s'pposed to do? "
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