~ Tнє Pαяα∂σχ Hσυѕє ~ now back to regularly scheduled chaos

Hook - Lodge Somewhere

It was always exciting when he got to hear Shade talk about her world, though this experience was particularly rewarding. Not only was he being granted with the ability to ease back into comfortable conversation with her - but he was actually getting the opportunity to see the faces of people from her home. Sure, they belonged to people she’d inevitably take the life of, but who better to see to further his understanding of what she dealt with everyday. 

He glanced towards as he heard her quiet huff of laughter, lifting his hand away as she started to thumb through the pages. “What?” He said with a grin, getting the sense she was making fun of him for something. He looked back down as she closed the book and began to put it away, staying patient as she seemed to be intent with whatever she was doing. His eyebrows raised as she pulled out an older looking book, one of similar side and similar promise for interesting content. 

While she answered his question he nodded in consideration, seeming to be familiar with the type of transaction she was describing. He chuckled as she called attention to the similarities to their dealings, shrugging modestly. “There’s plenty of the type out there to know,” he agreed with a smirk. “Y’know, some folk with payment worth workin’ for in my world would probably tell you that a man of my travels is a - uh - bastard that knows too much to be trusted with.” He grinned, looking for her reaction as he waited for her to open the new book. “Guess I better watch my neck or someone scary like you is going to come after me,” he mused, mostly joking despite the probable truth to his words. 

Rue | Statue Room | everyone

Rue nodded, believing him. For all her attempts to the contrary, she was still a trusting person at heart, and he seemed so genuine to her. “Really? How long have you been blinking in?” She asked curiously. “In your time, I mean. It’s only been a couple months for me, but I’ve learned a lot.”
She broke off as the arm snapped and Gin went tumbling, her eyes going very wide. A deep sense of bad bad bad bad hissed in her gut and she took a step back, body tense and ready to bolt, before she came to her senses.
“Are you okay?” She blurted out, and forced herself forward despite her misgivings. And that was when she saw it.
Movement. Right where Gin couldn’t see it.
“Look out!” She added her own warning to The Doctor’s, backing up quickly and looking around at the others. There were more people there now, she noticed, and chided herself for not paying better attention. She didn’t know them, though, and that didn’t matter right now anyway.
“Looks like you were right.” She muttered to The Doctor, not sure whether the woman would hear her or not. Come on, Rue, think...
“Don’t move, Gin.” She called, trying not to let her voice tremble the way it wanted to. She mostly succeeded. “Don’t move.”

Ougi - statue room - everyone, vincent, the doctor, rue, gin

Not recognizing Vincent yet, Ougi bent forward past him and toward Gin's armless statue to show off a mischievous smirk. Now with a better look at the broken statue, he could see the 'anger' of the others around it spiraling into action.
The statue Ougi had been leaning on was given life just as he stepped away from it. Its grey fingers whipped at the tips of the student's hair in a grab, but he kept his pace instead of taking notice and walked up into the Doctor's ranks.
"I'm not sure either of you are giving the best advice," he told Rue and the Doctor in his typical thoughtful mumble, as if the situation were less than dire. Even while speaking, he was followed slowly by the statue that pursued him; its face was twisted in a scream, displaying its bloodlust, but its reach was more silent and stealthy than it appeared. "Then again, perhaps the best advice in this situation would simply be to return to your own universe." Ah, Ougi was confusing 'best advice' for 'best case of events in an uncontrollable situation'.

Nico | Trust Exercise Room | ®Hawkpath®

Nico considered for a moment, glancing over at Kelsier as he thought. “I suppose people don’t get hit all that often. The injuries run a little more rampant during Capture the Flag. Pitting the children of the god of strategy against the kids of the god of war… that’s a fight worth watching.” Nico’s lip twitched up into an almost-smile. Somehow, since Kelsier already knew all of the impossible things about him, sharing the details of his world that he wasn’t really a part of was… easy, in a way. Camp Half-Blood was a safe conversation topic, because Nico hadn’t actually spent that much time there, but it was still a part of his world he could share with Kelsier without delving too close to any of the secrets Kelsier already knew. Distantly, Nico wondered if they would ever have gotten to the point where those secrets came out naturally. Knowing Nico, probably not quickly. Perhaps not ever. He tugged awkwardly at his jacket sleeves, just focusing on moving forward.
Nico’s brow raised as he heard Kelsier’s next words, and though in other circumstances they may have just served to annoy him, he could understand them here. Or perhaps he could just understand them when it came to Kelsier. The man wasn’t just the stereotypical golden, arrogant hero-type. He was all of those things, but knowing the little that Nico did about him, he had clawed his way to deserving each of those titles. Tartarus had broken Nico, but Hathsin had just made Kelsier stronger. It almost didn’t seem fair, but Nico wasn’t going to hold that against Kelsier. In fact, it just made him respect the man even more. They had both survived the unsurvivable, but only Kelsier had come out on top.
“And that’s why the House decided you needed me to help you down,” Nico replied, voice amused. He might be fantastic at falling, but not here. Not in the House, when his powers were taken from him for the sake of getting them to trust each other – or drop each other. Nico still wasn’t sure what the official goal of the room was. Although he was glad they both survived if it meant they got something fun out of it.
“Hm?” Nico asked, turning to look at Kelsier. “Oh, oh it is fun,” he smirked. “Don’t you remember how fun it was in that first room?” He distinctly remembered how disoriented Kelsier had been for the first few seconds after the little jump he had dragged him on, but it was clear he was poking fun – something he didn’t do very often. He didn’t stop to wonder why it was so much easier to do with Kelsier around. Joking about things was hard even with Myrnin or Rae… so why was it easy with this man who was as much of an enigma as he was a friend? They may have been past the wanting to kill each other bit, but they were still dangerous to each other. Would they trust one another if the House hadn’t forced them to? Nico didn’t know. Trust was something he gave away only sparingly, and though it seemed that Kelsier had earned it, Nico didn’t know. “It is fun, actually,” Nico amended, giving a bit of a grim smile. The freedom to go wherever he wanted and the security that shadow travelling provided… it was all worth it. Even though Tartarus seemed to have taken something out of his powers. Even though he could feel them taking more out of him now. He just wasn’t back to full strength yet. That was it. Surely, that was all it was. Nico could live in a state of denial for as long as he wanted – it didn’t change the truth that he refused to admit.
If Nico knew that Kelsier didn’t have any sort of warm drinks in his world, let alone sweet ones like hot chocolate or cider, he may have insisted that they march right up to the hot chocolate counter and order some right away. But Kelsier was probably right – they needed to go skating first. At least Kelsier seemed willing to try the skating, because Nico relished the idea of hot chocolate more than he cared to admit.
He followed Kelsier inside without hesitation, surprise flooding him when a perfectly sized pair of skates appeared on his feet. He hobbled forward on the awkward material of the ground, cursing the way his ankles seemed to bend sort of unnaturally to keep himself balanced. This material was meant to be walked on with skates, though, so it wasn’t terribly difficult. Nico looked up to see if Kelsier was faring any better than he was. Although the little building itself was warm and toasty – probably by virtue of the fire burning at the far end – Nico could feel the chill emanating from the ice rink a few feet away. Not waiting to see if Kelsier was ready, Nico took a few hesitant steps in the right direction. Walking wasn’t terribly difficult, it seemed. Perhaps skating would be this easy. Nico looked down at his hands, surprised to see that the House had been nice enough to give him gloves so his fingers wouldn’t be terribly cold if he fell. The gloves were thematically appropriate, too, Nico realized, turning his hand over to notice embroidered white bones tracing the lines of his fingers. Very funny. What he hadn’t yet noticed was the black beanie he now wore, his dark hair sticking out from the bottom in awkward tufts.
“I guess the House wants us to be prepared,” Nico murmured, though he didn’t mind. His skin might have been naturally cold but that didn’t mean he was immune to the effects of actual cold weather.

What to do, what to do?
The Doctor's mind at once started moving a mile a minute, taking in every statue and blinker that it could in a couple of seconds and rolling them all into a neat package within her head as she tried to process it all. 
That ... but what if ... and even ... no, that.
Two seconds. 
That was what it took for her to ignore Ougi, take a step forward, and said, "One of you work on looking at the gate, see if there's a way over it." She was hoping for Ougi's assistance with that, but also looked at Will. "Girl who's smart -" Rue "- try and keep an eye on the statues nearest us. They'll be heading this way. They're not as fast as us, but that doesn't mean anything. There are a lot of them. Higher ground would be advised, but we'll take what we can get. No one break them. It'll just make things worse!"
She was bounding forward, toward Gin. He had a sword, but that might rather depend if he could reach it in time and even if it would have any affect on the stone statues at all. The Doctor barreled forward at a run, mentally going through all the things she had on her that didn't include electrical components. A second later, a wrench was in her hand. Rather than aiming to snap the arm off of the statue that had a hold of Gin, she pressed the weight of the metal against the statue's midsection, trying to leverage it away. 
"Ya heard," she said, talking fast. "Accident."
Her eyes darted to Gin. "Don't break it," she hissed. "Don't."

(I ... couldn't make him shut up. o.o )

They seemed to have shifted the focus point. They could have been talking about the Murder Mystery Room or the Arena Room at this point. The latter was a lot further back. An origin that Myrnin remembered well and had him frowning without needing to think about it too long. He crossed his arms. It showed discomfort.
Did he know that?
He thought back to the Arena room. The pounding in his head and the conviction he'd had. He searched the foundation of his being, closing his eyes, and tried to think if he would do the same again.
It took a second, but he opened his eyes again. They were sad, but there was no great revelation behind them. 
"The House is a tricky thing to predict the desires of, L. You know that as well as I do. I do know several things, basic things which I have learned or have heard from credited sources. When a room doesn't align with what the House wants, it forces things. In both cases, L, it was the choice of monsters. In the Murder Mystery Room, there was little chance that some blinkers would ever have chosen not to vote. I know Vincent well enough to state that he would have delighted in working out any edge to have over someone else. I can't predict the whims of the House, not completely, no more than observed behavior. And in situations like the Paradox House that's all either of us have."
He sighed. "But you wanted to know why I don't stay neutral. Or at least on the side of the good."
There was no sarcasm when he said the word good. He would admit that he never took the course of action deemed respectable.
"That's because observed behavior tells me that if instructions and expectations in the House are not followed, then the House will cause something to happen to make us choose. It might take the blame off me, but it forces others to act in ways which they wouldn't. The House makes its own monsters." The image of Matteo with the knife in his hand was still ablaze in his head.
"The House tries to make someone a monster. I'm sure that it takes some pleasure in the fact I always try to fill the role. I don't need to know what everyone else is going to do. I don't even need to assume what's going to happen. I know. If it isn't me, then it's someone else. There isn't an if it's someone else, it's a then it's someone else."
He poked one of the blocks out of the tower with so much vampiric force that it didn't even shake. The block did fly past L, however, clattering against a wall.
Myrnin wasn't done.
"Fighting doesn't work. At least, not by sitting down and saying no. The House just makes it impossible then. This place changes people. Forces them to do things they wouldn't have seen or done in their own world. The next time you have to take a knife out of a five year old's hands and still think it doesn't, I'll listen. But if there's any control, it's to pick the monster. One nightmare, one person to hate. Not a dozen. Not watching the childhood die from someone's eyes as they're the one to do it."
He remembered the Arena room. He remembered the list by heart. Matteo, L, Touka, Tenya. Then Chamomile had killed him. He really hadn't killed any of the powerful blinkers, though he had tried. Truly ... he had different intents. Picking off the weaker ones. They were the ones who would be the difference. The powerful blinkers had all killed before. He had only killed Touka because she'd tried to stop him.
"Yes," he said softly, all of the past trapped somewhere in his head, where L couldn't get to it. His voice was tiny, damaged, like broken bird winds fluttering in the air. "Yes, I realize that. Every minute I'm awake and every second I close my eyes." And here he did close his eyes. "Have you ever killed someone, L? I find it likely, at least here. Have you killed twenty people then?" Myrnin's eyes opened. "Maybe not. What about thousands? It seems like such a small number when compared with the population of the world. I've killed that many in a year. Not this year, of course. Not in a long time by human standards. But each and every time the screams don't stop. They're just in your dreams. Always in your dreams. But after that many, after that many you wouldn't even be able to tell someone one of their names, then it all just become white noise in the worst dream you ever had. So many names that you can't think and the taste of them in your mouth makes you want to gag. But each time you try to stop, each time you think that maybe next time things will be okay, but what's in your head and your soul just keeps screaming. I caused the most damage. I always have. So why would I ever, ever want someone to have them in their head too?" His eyes seemed perfectly sane, like he was talking about the weather. It had been so long since L had thought of him as a monster. Would that change again? He tried to keep his face straight, and for the most part managed it, but the light behind his eyes kept drifting and shattering. Sane though he sounded, he wasn't okay. Not unstable, exactly, but like the weight on his shoulders was enough to make him hunch like L did.
A breath. A different subject.
"The House plays a game I can't even imagine. But that's what it is. A game. Where the pawns don't stay dead and all it wants is to see us experience pain. Over and over, in new ways possible at every turn. I enter a room and I don't think about the blinkers like you do. I couldn't stand in the Arena Room and try to find a way out or a way around or a way through the problem. I couldn't try to figure out who did it in the Murder Mystery Room because I already knew the answer. The House is the problem. The House is the culprit. What comes after that realization is our choice. The Arena Room would have just been death - half the blinkers who appeared were in their crazed forms. A force against them would have resulted in death ... an killing. If the rules stated everyone had to die, then the House would have gotten more joy from the chaos of that happening than it would have from it being a joke. What joy we allowed it was the choice. A child learning to kill was the choice I couldn't make."
He opened his eyes. "The House was the problem in the Murder Mystery Room. Someone killed Joey - I have little doubt of that. But the House was the true culprit. Not only did no one know what would happen if someone was picked, but psychologically ... what sort of power that would give. You, L. You treated the room as a sterile crime scene, with only a solution. And after? How would you have treated it? Vincent takes any scrap of information he can and stores it away for God knows what. The murderer? I said before that there was too many people there who I care about. The implications of one of them living or dying by the rules of a small mob ... Touka's history with being hunted, your frankly horrible lack of safety, and the fact that Shade had recently been injured ..." Recently in Myrnin's time, anyway. "There would have been consequences if the room was solved toward the rules the House aligned. I was the best choice. I have already died enough here and once more would not have made a difference. If the murderer was lost to House history? I couldn't care less." But he had picked Vincent when that plan had fallen through. He didn't explain why. Instead he seemed to choke a bit.

(*insert cackling* It's April Fool's y'all. Congrats!

*Hold up 13th Doctor as sacrifice* We doing this?)

WE SURE ARE)

the fourth doctor | living room | mintedstar/fur , to start out |

A tall man blinked into the Paradox House, dressed in ordinary, if slightly mismatched clothes, and a dull rainbow scarf.

"Well yes, that is normally what happens when one is eaten by a shark," he said matter-of-factly. Then, he blinked, disoriented, and turned in a rapid, clumsy circle, in such a hurry to get a complete look at his surroundings that his legs could hardly keep up.

"Well, my goodness," he muttered, leaning precariously to the side to peer curiously down the hallway. "Ah - hello? Hello? Anyone there?"

Rue | Statue Room | everyone

Rue nodded sharply to The Doctor, eyes on the statues closest to them. This was bad, this was very bad, but she wouldn’t panic. She couldn’t panic, because that would get all these innocent people killed.
Gin was trying to reason with it. She almost dared chance a look at him, but not quite, so she just heard him and the woman giving orders trying to talk the thing down, make it see reason. She knew, however, that it wouldn’t work.
These things were mutts. And mutts didn’t see reason.
“They won’t listen to you.” She told the others, voice flat but not without emotion. She was scared and trying hard not to show it. “They’re just things. Who here can fight? We need to make a circle around the defenseless people and protect them.”
She was twelve years old and giving strategic advice for a battle she thought was sure to have fatalities. And the worst part was, it didn’t occur to her that that was unusual.

HᥲꙆƒꙆɩɠᖾt

A handsome, tall, and devilishly purple man blinked into the hallway. He fiddled with his long, thin mustache, devious eyes swiping from left to right. He walked with pure grace, lifting his leg as high as he physically could with each step.

Numquam

The man, the myth, the legend himself, President Obama, the 44th president of the United States, blinked in. The first thing to catch his eye, was not the long hallway he was now in, but the absolutely stunning example of an individual elegantly striding around nearby. "Excuse me, gentleman." He said. "I seem to have lost my way to the white house. Could a fine man such as yourself tell me the shortest way there."

"Wa!" Waluigi wa'd as the hairs on his mustache stood up to their tippy top ends. He whirled around to face the unfamiliar, sensual voice. His chest felt lighter as he placed his eyes on the handsome figure before him. Rabid butterflies attacked the inside of his torso as his orbs softened. "W-wa...." He quietly responded with quivering lips, sharing the same confusion as to where they were.