[After a week in the graveyard, Newt is! getting very tired! of all the! goddamn! SASS!!! So he's flouncing from the main group to search for Patience's room before Ray and the others end up down here and further killing the fun.
He starts with the confessional, as that seems like the most notable piece of scenery in the graveyard. He's never seen a confessional in his entire life, though, so... Not sure what to do with it. Opening up the door where presumably people are supposed to enter seems like a good start, though.]
[It's actually less of a door and more of a red curtain. Well, there's door off to the priest's side, but since I'm assuming that's not what Newt's looking at we're moving on with him brushing past the red curtain. And he's faced, immediately, with the far wall. It's...very cramped in here. No more than two people could fit in this space, and even then they'd have to get pretty close.
There are about three noteworthy items inside the confessional: a bench attached to the three walls to sit on, a painting at eye-level, and against the wall to the left, a small glass panel.]
[It's been one fucking tag you impatient fuck. Anyway, it's actually a painting he might recognize: the widely successful The Nightmare by Henry Fuseli.]
[Newt has suffered for years and wants instant gratification at all times now?
Hm that painting sure is something. It looks vaguely familiar, though he wouldn't be able to name the piece or the artist, so... For now, he scoots out to go check the door on the priest side. Knock knock, Patience.]
[The door has no handle! Hm. Knocking doesn't seem to get a response, but he will notice that it seems like there's a light on inside. If he looks closely at the crack at the bottom of the door, he'll see a shadow that indicates someone inside.]
[This is where things start to get interesting. The glass is patterned in such a way that makes it hard to make anything out on the other side, but when he does peer into it, he can definitely see the wavering silhouette of something human-shaped.]
[When Newt makes his way into Catherine's chamber today, she's already de-robed, but looking a bit, well, different. A bit more demonic, if you will. She shifts from where she's been pacing in front of her closet, fixing him with her red eyes.]
Did you have fun at the party?
[Her tone seems a bit acidic, but not at him as much as about the party in and of itself.]
[That anger he's been trying so hard to tamp down all game flares again. He'd let it fly except that there's no productive target at the moment. Patience is on his team, obviously.]
Who? And how fucked are we if we don't get them back?
Ugh, I have no idea. They were stealthy enough that they were in and out before I realized anything was wrong. I'm sure if someone came in here just to root around, it had to have been someone who seriously doesn't trust me.
[Which doesn't necessarily narrow it down, but.]
Someone who still has their original token. They took my notes on the weekly tallies, which includes my own--but I used markings that don't give any specific answers, so I feel like I can brush it off if I'm confronted. Mostly, I'm worried about someone getting generous and giving everyone back their original tokens.
Who all still had their original tokens, then? There aren't too many of us down here. My money's on Ray, though. Or Julius. Both of them can go to hell.
[He's made a lot of friends here.]
If everyone gets their original tokens back, what happens?
Yeah, the two of them are my top suspects. The other ones who didn't take my token just don't seem to really be paying attention, but they gave me the stink eye about it.
[Nothing personal her beautiful, perfectly shaped ass.]
Depends. Most of them believed me when I said that as long as they still "believe" in their own god, their token is still active. It was a total lie as long as I still have them, but if they get them back, only the one that they actually accept as their token is going to work. So, in your case, you'd still be on my team, but you're the only one. And that doesn't do either of us any good.
Ugh, I wish. If it was that easy, I'd help you do it.
[But, well, she can only get away with so much. She sighs, groaning in annoyance, and strides over to drape herself around him.]
As long as nobody gets their shit together, we've still got a shot. They only have so many more days before the clock runs out...let's hope they keep wasting all that time.
[He lets out a low growl, but hugs her to him on reflex, his arms hanging loosely around her waist. Truthfully, he's more in the mood to break stuff than to get all cuddly, but, ah. Best of both worlds.]
As rough as you want.
[He says to a succubus(?), which, like, I mean he's digging his own grave here so RIP Newton he died as he lived, thotting viciously and without regard for consequences.]
Gotta do something with all this pent-up frustration.
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He starts with the confessional, as that seems like the most notable piece of scenery in the graveyard. He's never seen a confessional in his entire life, though, so... Not sure what to do with it. Opening up the door where presumably people are supposed to enter seems like a good start, though.]
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There are about three noteworthy items inside the confessional: a bench attached to the three walls to sit on, a painting at eye-level, and against the wall to the left, a small glass panel.]
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What's up with that there painting??]
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Hm that painting sure is something. It looks vaguely familiar, though he wouldn't be able to name the piece or the artist, so... For now, he scoots out to go check the door on the priest side. Knock knock, Patience.]
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Sit down
[The command is in his head.]
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He sits. May as well.]
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yeah, you're long overdue
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Talking to it seems like the thing to do, though.]
I've never really bought the eternal damnation thing. What do you want?
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I'm just a specter
a one-headed Cerberus invented for this realm
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welp time for me to run out of appropriate icons, also sorry other mods??
WEEK 7
Did you have fun at the party?
[Her tone seems a bit acidic, but not at him as much as about the party in and of itself.]
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Damn. You're full of surprises, huh? I like this new look.
[But clearly she has other things she wants to talk about. Hm.]
I appreciate the gesture, but it's not as if I'm well-liked around here. Hanging out with the other ghosts gets old pretty fast.
[He shrugs.]
Everything okay?
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[She grins slightly, leaning against the closet door.]
I wasn't really in the mood to play nice...but what's a girl to do when she's asked to entertain? The truth is...I've got a bit of a problem.
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[But his chin tips down at the mention of a problem. Oh boy. They're so close to the end... Someone better not have figured them out.]
What's going on?
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[She folds her arms.]
Nothing's come of it yet, but...
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Who? And how fucked are we if we don't get them back?
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[Which doesn't necessarily narrow it down, but.]
Someone who still has their original token. They took my notes on the weekly tallies, which includes my own--but I used markings that don't give any specific answers, so I feel like I can brush it off if I'm confronted. Mostly, I'm worried about someone getting generous and giving everyone back their original tokens.
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[He's made a lot of friends here.]
If everyone gets their original tokens back, what happens?
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[Nothing personal her beautiful, perfectly shaped ass.]
Depends. Most of them believed me when I said that as long as they still "believe" in their own god, their token is still active. It was a total lie as long as I still have them, but if they get them back, only the one that they actually accept as their token is going to work. So, in your case, you'd still be on my team, but you're the only one. And that doesn't do either of us any good.
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[There's a good chance whoever stole them won't know that particular detail, but that doesn't exactly salvage this shit situation.]
I don't suppose there's a way to kill people once they're already dead, huh?
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[But, well, she can only get away with so much. She sighs, groaning in annoyance, and strides over to drape herself around him.]
As long as nobody gets their shit together, we've still got a shot. They only have so many more days before the clock runs out...let's hope they keep wasting all that time.
[Then, suddenly, without much fanfare:]
How rough do you like it?
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[He lets out a low growl, but hugs her to him on reflex, his arms hanging loosely around her waist. Truthfully, he's more in the mood to break stuff than to get all cuddly, but, ah. Best of both worlds.]
As rough as you want.
[He says to a succubus(?), which, like, I mean he's digging his own grave here so RIP Newton he died as he lived, thotting viciously and without regard for consequences.]
Gotta do something with all this pent-up frustration.
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