video; un: rtozier

[summertimeblues]

[Surrounding a pair of stained and rumpled tomes is a jumble of a barbershop quartet. You have Yusuke Kitagawa, focus plastered to whatever he’s sketching in a tidy notebook. Red, last name unknown, is continuing to copy letters into her own collection and keeps her phone ready at her side. Richie Tozier and Dorian Pavus are the only ones paying attention to the video feed. Ironic, as neither one of them should even know what a livestream is.]

Greetings to the damned, coming in live from the asbestos-caked halls of learning down here in Olympia’s residential nerd district. My name is Rich, this is Dorian. Say hi Dorian.

Greetings, from your local residential… nerd? What does that even mean, dear Richie?

It means a well dressed man. [Richie smiles sweetly at the fossil sitting adjacent before turning his attention back to the camera.] Over here and ignoring the masses are people of lesser import. Anyway, we’ve all gathered here because we took up some of that under the table money in exchange for odd jobs, and today they stuck us up here in the book prison. We’ve been tasked with translating all this old hocus pocus and we found some interesting stuff, looks pretty well like a related spell. I know some of us remember that cuh-lossal skull in a cave. Terrible vacation destination, by the way, piss poor accommodations and it’s definitely haunted. Just a hunch, but I think something died in there.

More like they were rather exquisitely prepared, died, and then proceeded to serve a "higher calling." [Dorian rolls his eyes, leaning forward to take up more of the screen.] It’s a question of what that higher purpose is. Judging by the preparations of the whole thing, it’s either incredibly sanctimonious or incredibly… condemning. Shall we show them the texts?

[One of the people of "lesser import" look up at this time — the one with bright red hair — as if on cue ( really, it was just some good timing ). Takes a brief moment to roll her eyes at the dramatics unfolding in front of her, but she reaches for her phone nonetheless; soon, a text attachment shows up with the video. Otherwise, she doesn’t look like she has anything to add, and quietly returns to her work.]

There you have it. Take a looksee, it seems we’re missing a beginning and an end there. Any other fun tidbits would also be appreciated if you’ve got them. I personally have always wondered how bar mitzvahs are conducted in magical medieval empires. Do they have a ceremonial gremlin for it? I’m too scared to ask the locals.

[Richie suddenly frowns, sidetracked by the human noodle etching in silence across from him.] Hey Stringbean, what are you drawing? Is it me? [He leans across the table to snatch the notebook. Lovingly (and quite skillfully rendered) is the skull in said cave. Richie gasps in delight.] It is! It’s me when I’m dead! What a cuuuutie!

[He’s now leaning bodily over the table to pinch at the teenager’s cheeks. Red makes a face, the camera jumbles and goes flat and pitch black on the table. The last thing heard before the feed cuts is Richie’s yelp of pain (Red's boot has found his shin) and Dorian’s long groan.]

((OOC: The text will be added as a comment to the post! Any one of the four losers present may reply, but it's mostly going to be Richie and/or Dorian.))

Comments

[summertimeblues]

tell the parents you found rats in the hall and maybe they'll split for better pastures

[vorrutyer]

Good heavens, how squeamish are you that rats would make you flee your home?

[summertimeblues]

don't underestimate parental panic byerly, the baby makes for crazy

[vorrutyer]

Why aren't the foul little grubs kept in boxes and then extracted only once they're old enough to have an interesting opinion?

[summertimeblues]

isn't that boarding school

anyway you're failing to contribute anything useful, please try to pull a little weight in the future

[vorrutyer]

Yes, sorry, for some reason I've been too busy with other things to sit hunched over in some musty room squinting at books. What else was I busy with...? Ah, yes. Partying and having friends.

[summertimeblues]

how lame is your party life if you're hopping on to heckle the geeks in the library

[vorrutyer]

My party life affirmatively includes Dorian at all times. Even when he's keeping unsavory company.

[summertimeblues]

oh dear what a social faux pas

i'll tell him to shower before returning him to your loving tender arms

[vorrutyer]

Dorian's taste is always impeccable. I don't think he needs your guidance in anything.

[summertimeblues]

impeccable yet he's still got you on the christmas card list

kind of a contradiction, there

[vorrutyer]

How shall we resolve it?

[summertimeblues]

Croquet.

[vorrutyer]

Or we could use our brains to go through and determine the source of the logical fallacy. But, all right, croquet. Why not.

[summertimeblues]

you're just too smart for me! I must level the playing field somehow

[vorrutyer]

Poor thing. Out there, trying to keep up with your intellectual betters. What possessed you to volunteer for this research duty?

[summertimeblues]

Personally speaking I prefer to know what the fuck everyone's problem is when I'm poised to get caught in the crosshairs.

[vorrutyer]

Ah. And you think that musty old books are the way to do that?

text

[flashystyle]

[Because Dorian sitting directly next to Richie—and just a terribly nosy person in general—Byerly receives another text shortly after. It's simply:]

😘

[vorrutyer]

🤓📔 😍

[flashystyle]

🤓⁉️ 😎📔

[vorrutyer]

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[flashystyle]

💔💔💔🖕🏽🖕🏽🖕🏽

You’re terribly rude.

[vorrutyer]

And charmless, and vile, and utterly unhandsome.

[flashystyle]

All true. You're terribly dull and I hate you.