Private Contact (Foolish Mortals Archive)

[keyofimagination]

If you need to contact The Narrator, all you need to do is call out for him and he will appear in your proximity within a few moments. You don't need to worry about whether he heard you or not; he hears you.

Comments are screened for privacy. After all, what narrator would go around revealing everyone's secrets?

Comments

[anasty]

[ Now that she's back in her room and in the midsts of filling her tub with water ( that took an embarrassing amount of time to figure out ), she addresses her bathroom mirror at a growl as she fusses with her hair. ]

Alright Tall, Inky, and Blinky, who does a girl around here have to kill to speak to the Manager?

[keyofimagination]

[... He knows what's going on, but it is still slightly odd that she's calling him right before taking a bath.

Either way, hi, he's suddenly standing right next to her.]

Already considering offing somebody, I see.

[anasty]

No offense, but this isn't really my aesthetic...

[ She waves a little. ]

And I don't appreciate feeling like the new resident mop every time I want to go somewhere because your staff don't know how to keep a clean house. It's awful! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.

[ One tentacle attempts to poke him in the chest for emphasis. ]

[keyofimagination]

[The tentacle goes right through him.]

I must remind you that I don't have a staff, and this hotel has been abandoned for a long time.

On a related note, there is no management to "speak to", unless you're referring to the person who's keeping you here.

[anasty]

[ It's bothersome there's no option for her to physically bully him - it's such a big factor in her usual sales pitch modus operandi.

Nevertheless, she twirls towards him more fully, putting on a toothy smile. ]

Well, you know I'd be happy to spruce the place up for you in a much more efficacious way. There's just one teensy little thing I need...

[ The index finger she puts up curls to be more of a claw, her brief cheerful tone reverting down to a growl. ]

My magic. Whoever locked it away, that's who I want to speak to.

[keyofimagination]

[If The Narrator was at all intimidated by that, he doesn't show it.]

The person who took your magic isn't here right now, and I have my doubts that you'll be able to speak to them for awhile.

[anasty]

[ The purpose of the running water becomes a little more clear as Ursula's volume begins to rise and rise. ]

Well why in the seven seas not?!

More importantly, why does that doddering Merlin get his magic and I don't? And don't you dare try to say he doesn't! I watched him turn into a mouse without so much as a toodle-loo!

[keyofimagination]

Because, if I recall, your powers tend to be more dangerous. While with Merlin, self transformation is a more benevolent ability. But if I see him turn into a dragon I'll make sure he won't be able to do that again.

[anasty]

So you do have the power to alter his abilities!

[ She snarls, accusing. ]

But that makes no sense. I thought the object of this game was to murder one another? Why would you want to suppress danger?

[keyofimagination]

So those who don't have magic or weapons can stand a chance in this hotel. I would rather not have everything end on the first week because someone with unlimited power decided to kill everyone else in this hotel.

[anasty]

[ Ursula sniffs. If that's a veiled criticism about her, she won't hear it and she won't respond to it. ]

Let's move on.

[ In fact, she moves right through him towards the tub, dipping in a few of her tentacles to test the temperature of the water and making minor adjustments with two of the others. ]

The last thing I remember before coming here, I was in the middle of something big...

[ She looks over her shoulder, watching him to see if there's any sign of recognition. How much does he know...? ]

[keyofimagination]

[He nods, seeming to completely understand what she was talking about.]

Ah yes, that. And you're curious how we were able to get you here, or...?

[anasty]

I want to know where I'll be when I win this game.

[keyofimagination]

My, are you eager.

[He seems almost amused.]

We can promise to put you somewhere safe if you win, as it defeats the purpose of winning if the winner just dies.

[anasty]

Ursula is no loser, Nate.

You should know I get what I want... eventually.

Of course, I can't help but feel you've stacked the odds against me, especially with that little stunt you pulled last night. It's almost as if you wanted me to start the blood-bath right then.

[keyofimagination]

I'll let you in on a little secret, Ursula:

I'm really not a fan of murderers or bloodbaths. I would never personally encourage anyone to commit mass murder.

[anasty]

Oh, I see now. You don't like me.

[ She moues, briefly feigning hurt before moving back to something more sly. ]

Well, since we're being honest, I don't much care for murder myself.

It's so final.

[keyofimagination]

[He folds his arms, clearly not impressed.]

Might I ask if that's a threat?

lets go

[forgottenfounder]

heck yeah!

[keyofimagination]

[When Oswald goes to his room on Monday night, he'll find the Narrator already in the room, sitting in the chair and reading a book. He puts it away and stands up once he notices Oswald.]

How has the day been treating you, Oswald?

[anasty]

On the contrary, darling! I'm trying to reassure you.

How awful it must be, for someone with no taste for murder to have to watch this.

[keyofimagination]

[Somehow, he's not feeling very reassured.]

You become numb to it when you have witnessed murder for as long as I have.

[forgottenfounder]

[Oswald pauses in the doorway, hand still reached up and gripping the doorknob. However briefly, he considers just... closing the door and walking away. Instead, he hesitates.]

...It's been OK. [He remarked, tone indicating he really wants to know why this guy is in his room. The multicolored hues on every wall making the grey scale man stand out that much more.] I haven't run into any ghosts yet, which means there hasn't been any trouble.

[keyofimagination]

They're pretty shy to the living, I wouldn't worry about the ghosts unless you try something bad.

I'll cut to the chase; I require your assistance.

[Which would require... Oswald shutting the door because this is private stuff.]

[forgottenfounder]

Then you might want to keep an eye out for Donald. [Robotic or not, the poor guy can whip up quite a temper.]

You... want my help? [He stares briefly, before silently shutting the door behind him. Now it's just them and the colors. The look on his face urges Rod Sterling to continue.]