( SETTING INTERACTION. )

[silentspringmods]

Non-Event Explorations


As of 2/3/24, this is the new page where all character interactions with the setting/explorations/etc unrelated to events will reside. Here are some examples of the types of things to post on this page:

- My character would like to search the library for xyz, would they find anything?
- My character is going to approach an NPC outside of an event and do xyz, what happens?
- If my character goes asking around for x, what will they be told?

Examples of things that should still go on the FAQ:

- What kind of books does the library have on x topic? (Character is not specifically searching the library IC).
- Does the town have x facility?
- Is my character able to do x?

And, when in doubt, it's fine to just post the question on your best guess and I can move it as needed!

Comments

[silentspringmods]

Dick opens his mouth to reprimand; Norman speaks up, making it clear enough he's able to defend himself.

"Settle down, Arthur. I don't know what you're talking about with dragging people here and multiple realities, but it sounds like you've been reading too much science fiction. You bought the house you live in three years ago, don't you remember? Let's just calm down and talk through this."

[workingthenumbers]

As Arthur jumps up yells at Norman, there's a moment where Numbers sorely wishes that it was Wrench here instead of Arthur. At least Wrench knew the value of silence, the value of discretion. Not that Numbers thought he had any sort of discretion left, given he and Arthur were caught snooping in Norman's house.

"Yes. Settle down, Arthur," he says through gritted teeth, trying to keep a level tone. He then wrangles an insincere smile, turning towards Chief Clark. Trying to appeal to what authority he has in this situation.

"You've proven your point," he says, evenly. "Are we allowed to go? Or are you detaining us?"

[lestercraft]

Make no mistake that Arthur is absolutely ready to continue kicking and screaming about this. But Numbers telling him to settle does a world more good than Norman doing it, and he sits back down with obvious reluctance. There are sharp red lines on both wrists from the force of his reaction, though, and he's clearly simmering, not settled.

"Don't presume to tell me about my own fucking life, doctor." With as much acidic scorn on the word as he can possibly muster.

[silentspringmods]

Dick speaks up this time, mostly in response to Numbers' question. "You're being detained. It's up to the Doctor whether or not he wants to press charges here—and he's right, you know," he says, turning to Arthur. "It would be about three years by now that you've been here. Does your wife know where you are, Arthur?"

[lestercraft]

"Two years ago I was working as a private investigator in Arkham, Massachusetts," he all but snarls. "I didn't have a wife and I certainly didn't own a fucking house, because it was 1932 in my universe."

And they're not going to get into his head and make him fucking forget that. "You're all out of your fucking minds."

[workingthenumbers]

"Didn't you hear me? I said they made their point," Numbers snaps at Arthur, raising his voice. He hopes Arthur can feel Numbers glaring at him, straining with all his might not to say 'Shut the fuck up!' Wasn't this guy a private investigator? Hadn't he dealt with the police before?

"Well, Dr. Pollock? Do you plan on pressing charges? I can certainly say that we--" He gestures broadly to himself with his free hand, then to Arthur. "--understand what you're trying to say here. Isn't that right, Arthur?"

He clasps his hand on Arthur's shoulder, gripping it a little too tightly. Digging his nails into Arthur's clothes.

[silentspringmods]

Norman smiles thinly. It doesn't reach his eyes, and it doesn't appear as though he's trying to make it do so. He glances at Numbers now, dismissive.

"You're free to go. Stay out of my house, okay? That's just basic decency."

[lestercraft]

Number's hand on his shoulder makes him wince, at the grip he can feel pressing into the bones left unprotected after his month in a coma, and his mouth presses into a tight line to keep any sound from coming out.

Until Norman speaks, and he has to resist the urge to scoff in his fucking face. As if he were any sort of decent fucking sort.

"It won't happen again," he says snidely.