2020-01-14 - Cartography Club

Enzo is an author, he can take time off whenever he wants! At least, that's the story he tells people. Not that he's essentially unemployed. But it really boils down to the same thing, right? Right. They stand around (presumably) and he sort of shrugs his shoulders and says, "I can try to open it up." Open it up. Super elegant wording. He makes scissor motions with one hand.

August is a business owner with a partner; work days and PTO are a relative concept. He's moderately dressed against the weather, because the last thing he wants to find out is there's no real winter in the Veil and it's 70F and humid. That would be amazing damned annoying. Denim jeans, black fleece jacket with a dark red, light wool sweater under it, heavy hiking boots, black leather gloves. He brought a small journal and graphite pencil this time along with the grease pencil; the very sorts of things he used to carry out in the field. Just no fifty pound hiking pack this time.

He looks askance at Enzo, whom he's only just met, then to Anne and Isabella. He has no stake in who does the honors. Enzo and Anne can argue that one.

It's gray, cold and miserable, and in spite of this, the Park is somehow still teeming with traffic, which leaves any possibility of a silent getaway into the other side through it a more complicated prospect than anticipated. At least they have a vehicle in order to avoid most of the weather - Alexander won't have to walk through this drudgery if Isabella has anything to say about it. But with the vehicle parked and the two of them clambering out, the pedestrian traffic of Winterfest looms before them, and the young woman can't help but stare somewhat incredulously at the surprising number of bodies present.

"...wow, people really love Winterfest," she says out loud.

Whenever their other companions arrive, Isabella lifts her hand in a wave, though she's definitely surprised to see Enzo - he looks familiar, but she doesn't know him. She's fully healed from her injuries, at least - there's no more limp, and the hearing aid is gone, raring to go in this next excursion and clad in a fitted Winter jacket, thermal leggings, sturdy snowboots, a scarf and knit hat. She has a very small waterproof traveling pack attached to one shoulder, containing a water bottle, a med kit, journal and writing accouterments. She's got a gun, somewhere under her layers, and a swiss army knife just in case. The author's offer has her nodding, and flashing him a thumbs up.

She stays by Alexander's taller, broader shadow, her hands in her pockets.

Alexander is...let's call it 'self-employed'. He does, occasionally, earn enough to have to pay taxes, after all. But either way, to say that his time is flexible is one of those big understatements. He's bundled against the chill, although his gloves are thin. He studies the festival with a faint smile. "People like something that is more entertaining than watching the slush fall...or your sewers back up." As Elm street is struggling with right now, as it happens. The smell is not pleasant, and HE is clearly happy to be away from the neighborhood for a respite.

Even if that respite means going into the Veil. He offers a wave and a smile to August, and studies Enzo with a bit more wariness. "Vincenzo. Hello. I wasn't aware...are you--do you know what we're planning to do?" It's in that tone that suggests that now's a good time to jump ship if Enzo's going to. Alexander is also armed, although not to the casual observer. His knife is hidden under his bulky jacket and sweater. But then, Enzo is offering to 'open' things, and he makes a thoughtful noise. "No objections here."

Other people are armed but Enzo might have like... a pocket knife on him or a letter opener. Maybe a nail file! The options for odd small weapons are nearly endless. But he definitely does not have any sort of gun, that's for sure. He rocks on his heels and watches as everyone mills together. "Not really," he answers Alexander. But it carries an undercurrent of not being particularly worried or concerned about it, a kind of hapless disregard or really, lack of common sense. He looks around the other people of Gray Harbor that are in their general vicinity, "Did we want to find a good spot to or-" he looks around for Anne, figuring her arrival will be soon. Likely.

Anne is here! She works in government and City Hall practically shuts down until mid-January anyway; getting off was easy (lol that's what she said). Anyway, she's dressed in a pair of jean leggings, sweater and jacket along with a pair of mittens, definitely not looking like someone who's about to take a potentially dangerous trip into another world. "There's always the port-o-potty down by the pond," she nibbles on her bottom lip as she casts a look that-a-way, "That's how we got in last time. And it'll test a theory that I have!" Because testing theories is always awesome.

Said port-o-potty is further away from the carousel, but still within the line of site of the thing. So if there are no objections, Anne's totally leading them to the shitter.

August grunts at Isabella's comment about Winterfest, eyes the setup. "Guess we should have thought about having a booth. Maybe there's still time..." He nods in a 'I guess' manner at Alexander. Certainly if it did well enough maybe the city would consider finding it like Thorne's carnival. Enzo's apparent lack of information as to what they're doing makes him blink and give Isabella a concerned look. But before he can say anything, Anne is taking about their last method of transportation.

He sighs at her. "Right. The Honey Bucket." He follows, though, close behind. He's wary of whatever theory there is to be tested with a port-o-potty, but then who wouldn't be.

"Might be wise," the archaeologist tells Enzo. "There's too many people. Within view of the Carousel, maybe, but not too close." Isabella's brows draw down in thought. "The other side isn't an exact mirror, but it's reflective geographically of what's here, from what I've managed to observe in past excursions." Though there is a glance towards Anne at that, deferential to her friend's expertise in the matter considering she has spent more time there than she has. There's also a quick smile flashed towards the blue-eyed woman's way.

...until she reminds all of them about the port-o-potty and that smile fades just as quickly. She groans. "Right. There's always that." An apologetic look is cast towards Alexander and Enzo. She might have forgotten to mention that. "If it tests Anne's theory, we should probably try that first and it...does get us away from here." And with that, she'll follow where Anne leads them.

"That entering by the same 'door' will take us to the same place?" Alexander hazards towards Anne. "Or otherwise, that what door we enter from here only vaguely corresponds with where we end up there?" Of course, he wasn't around for the first trip, and he seems amused rather than offended by their destination. He falls in to follow Isabella and Anne, hands in the pockets of his coat. There's a sideways glance at Enzo. "So. Books. You write about the town? Or a...fictionalized version of the town?" Because now is definitely the time for small talk!

"Sure, lead the way." To the bathroom. Enzo isn't picky, at least about where the door is going to be opened up. He falls in step with the rest of the group, ending up near Alexander and Isabella. "It's not the town per se. It's all just a very good coincidence." Which means that the answer is basically yes. Which actually means that... does this make Enzo a non-fiction author without even realizing it? It might. That realization seems to be dawning on him and he narrows his gaze ahead. Small talk is all completely okay with him, apparently.

"Actually, that it's about intention rather than location. At least when you're in Gray Harbor proper," Anne lifts her shoulders into a quick shrug when she mentions that to Alexander. "I've admittedly never been brave enough to try. I don't know the lines between that world and where it is we go when they pull us there, you know? But this should be fairly safe," she's fairly certain. There's a glance behind her shoulder to the carousel as they arrive at the port-o-potty in question, ensuring it is still within the line of sight from here. "Here goes nothing," there's encouraging smiles for everybody before she reaches to pull the door open. One big breath in, and she's the first to go!

August half listens to Enzo and Alexander as they walk. "I'd love some copies, if you wouldn't mind selling a few," he says. "I know at least two people who'll read them."

He tilts his head at Anne. "Intent," he echoes, turning that over in his mind. It's the kind of thing Itzhak would agree with, he thinks, and as Anne opens the door and heads on through, he takes a second to fix their intent in his mind, then follows.

Her lover's amusement has her quirking a faint smile, though what Anne does say is interesting enough to have a contemplative look fall on Isabella's features. "It opens up an entirely new realm of possibility if it's controlled by intention," she remarks, and is still thinking about it when other people step through and she follows. Which means that she makes the mistake of taking a breath while she'sin the port-o-potty, just as reality bends and shifts.

...which means she's doing her best not to lose her lunch by the time she staggers out into the other side. "Oh, god, why," she groans, but manages to prevent herself from leaning against a tree, because of the sticky, fly paperesque sheen it's got on the bark.

"A coincidence," Alexander says, flat, but with amusement lurking in his eyes. "I see." There's a pause, then, his curiosity not yet sated, he continues, "Are they mysteries? Action novels? Horror?" One corner of his mouth turns up. "That last would seem tremendously appropriate for a setting that resembles our town. Coincidentally." He falls silent as Anne elaborates, though, his eyebrows going up. "Do you think that's why the appointments? For going to the other City Hall? Maybe priming us to expect the door to take us there? Should we tie ourselve--" Nope, she's gone. He clears his throat, and follows, but reaches out to grasp Isabella's arm; at least one person, he refuses to lose.

He turns green around the gills at the passage - it's one of the very few he's made that hasn't been to City Hall, and when Isabella staggers, he's drawn with her, locked in his own struggle not to throw up. To distract himself, he starts humming along with that song, faintly heard from the carousel.

"I guess we're just going- well, alright." Enzo never does answer August about the books. The answer is probably yes, for the record. As they step through one by one, he takes a deep breath and enters the otherside. He looks like a man suffering from serious vertigo when he gets through the otherside and it takes him a good minute to get reoriented. There's some blink and another deep breath.

Anne stumbles when she's through, damn near toppling over, but while she weeble-wobbles she manages not to fall down. "Oh, oh god, I think I'm gonna puke," she is definitely going to bend towards her knees for a second or two, until the vertigo's gone. Don't worry! She doesn't vomit. Yet. Once she's reoriented, she sloooowly rights herself, rubbing the side of her head as she looks around herself. "I don't think this proves anything," she tells the group, "We just ended up exactly where we went through at." Hmm. Needs further experimenting, perhaps! But she's distracted by the music and the hideously gaudy carousel that's in front of them, her brow knitting together. "Is that.." it's going to take her a minute to piece all the song pieces together. "Well, we're definitely in the right place. Are we gonna take a ride?"

August wobbles as they come out into the Veil, staggers to one side. He rights himself, willing his guts to settle the hell down. In that sense the music helps, as it's a distraction. But not a welcome one: he makes a face when he hears it. The last time he heard Veil carousel music it was bad. Real, real bad.

He warns everyone there, "I am burning that thing to the ground if it puts another worm in me." Even if it's a Graceland Carousel, with lovely glass peacocks.

He looks askance at Anne. "Can we? I'm a good buck eighty-five, not sure I wouldn't just break it." Also, should they, because fucking worms.

Thankfully, she doesn't throw up; Alexander's firm grip on her arm manages to center her before she embarrasses herself in front of all these people. As the yawning stretch of the open space looms before her, Isabella hesitates; she took her medication just in case, but considering the stories she's heard about the real-world counterpart, she's already apprehensive the moment she hears the music. Her hand reaches out to squeeze the investigator's hand on her arm, and then rubs his back carefully, mindful of the injury there, when he also struggles to keep himself from gagging.

"No, it doesn't," she says to Anne. "This is the same exact point where we went through the last time." She attempts to swallow back her nausea, before she continues. "Maybe it's different if you have to create a door. The one in the port-o-potty seems to be a fixed point." But she follows the rest to the gaudiest carousel she's ever seen, and her expression, despite her earlier apprehensions, lights up at the sight of the stained glass peacocks. And why not, they're pretty!

"Good question," she tells Anne and August. She closes her eyes for a moment. "No hidden switches or anything." After a glance cast to her party, she takes a few steps forward. "I can go first."

"That's Blue Suede Shoes," Alexander murmurs, but by the time the words are out, it's a new song. "Jailhouse Rock." Annnnnd gone. "Hearbreak--goddamn it, I wish it'd just pick one," he adds, conversationally. He turns to study the carousel. "That's not what it looked like in the Dream with the worms. It has exactly enough seats." A glance at Anne and August. "It'll hold us, I'm sure. But it's probably a trap."

A frown to Isabella. "I'd rather you didn't. We should all do it together, if we're going to. So that if it locks us in or disappears the person riding, we don't get separated."

Enzo needs absolutely zero encouragement to get on the bedazzled carousal made with glass peacocks, "Yes." That's his vote, that they should get on the contraption.

"That's three votes for ride," Anne's counting herself in this. She turns to keep the group in her eyes as she walks backwards to the carousel, flashing a small smile to Alexander and August. "Sorry guys, but it's Now or Never~" which is an Elvis song. Then she turns on her heel and heads for the ride, walking in a quick clip! "It's not stopping," she notes, frowning thoughtfully to herself. She knows she's not the most agile, or the most athletic, or even the most graceful - but, she takes a deep breath and hops on, stumbling through as she makes a grab for one of the peacocks.

August frowns at Alexander, unable to pick out anything in the jangling music. Well, Graceland Carousel, it makes sense, even if August can't understand the music. He's not about to question why the Veil is weird.

The report from Isabella only relaxes him slightly. But now Anne's intent on it too, as is Enzo. Ah well. In for a penny. He steps up with Anne, looking for a way to get on. (And if he breaks a peacock it's so not his fault.)

There's a part of her that is tickled to pieces that Alexander knows more Elvis songs than she anticipated, Isabella grinning faintly at him even while he frowns at her for volunteering to be the guinea pig. But with Anne already moving to seize one of the peacocks, followed by August, she follows - thankfully she's healed up, and hopefully she'll be able to grasp one of the stained glass contraptions as they whirl around. If others need it, she will attempt to try and haul up the next person with her - at least she's listening; everyone together or not at all!

"I wasn't saying not to," Alexander points out, warily, "just pointing out that it's probably a trap." Which doesn't stop him from following the others and grabbing for his own peacock when one comes by, determined - at least - to not be left behind. And when Isabella gives him that grin, he offers her a wink and - was that a hip shimmy? - before working on grabbing the peacock. Which is not the same as choking the chicken. AT ALL.

Enzo turns backwards as Anne declares the number of votes, giving anyone who chooses not to climb on immediately a broad smile and a shrug of his shoulders. "Yolo?" It's meant to be ironic or something, surely. Or sarcastic. Intent is debatable. He turns back to the carousel and picks up the pace, breaking into a little trot before he reaches out to try and grab on and haul himself up.

Enzo just kind of hangs on at that point. This is karma, this is what you get for using the word 'yolo' in a sentence in an alternate dimension. Don't mind him everyone, he's fine. Though he's bleeding a little from this particular experience. When the clicking of the door happens, he turns his head and says, "We should definitely go in there." Then he swipes the blood away from his forehead. It's a flesh wound, he'll live.

"Oh, this isn't terrible!" The first revolution has Anne making herself as comfortable as she can on her glass peacock, hands wrapped around the handle and leaning back. It's pleasant enough to put her at ease, but just as she's beginning to enjoy the experience, the carousel starts to go faster. And faster. And - "Ooohkay I think I want this to stop now! I'm definitely going to be sick!" it's a fair warning to whoever is on the peacock behind her. But thankfully for Enzo's shoes, the carousel decides to listen to Anne and stop suddenly. She manages not to go flying off her peacock, but she's jerked forward with the motion, and boinks her forehead off the pole. "Ow." She's not as bad off as Enzo though.

August clings to the peacock, heedless of whether or not it might break. If he comes back from this mangled by a Graceland Carousel Eleanor is never letting him live it down.

The sudden stop jolts him; he winds up clinging to the peacock awkwardly, has to disentangle himself with extreme case or risk falling flat on his face. "Ah shit," he says, seeing Enzo clock himself in the face. It doesn't look too bad, though, so August relaxes. He can check for a concussion later.

And round and round and round it goes, when it stops, nobody knows. It's probably only out of sheer stubbornness that Isabella manages to hang onto her bird as their surroundings melt into a swirling kaleidoscope of gray, and her ride seems to be doing its level best to shake her off. There's a bit of a warning shout when Enzo goes flying off his mount and she attempts to grab at him when he flies past, but it nearly costs her. Thankfully he doesn't fly off, and they don't lose him.

When the carousel stops, she's almost a limp noodle when she slides off, her knees feeling like jelly as she keeps a firm grip on a wing. She looks like she's about to lose her lunch again but still manages not to do so. "I...don't think...I've ever ridden a pole that hard before," she wheezes. "But...I think...worth it?" She gestures to the new entryway, before she starts to move towards the door in the center of the Carousel that just opened. "Everybody alright?"

"Just wait," Alexander tells Anne dourly at her exclaimation. He grips the pole with a grim expression and waits for straps, chains, or something else horrible to happen.

That it just stops all of a sudden is both surprising, and...mildly reassuring? It doesn't stop him from jerking forwards and having to scrabble for a better grip on the bird, of course, but it could be worse. "Nothing's tried to eat us or impersonate us, yet," he points out to the others, and it's suddenly almost cheerful. He climbs off, and holds his hands out to steady Isabella. Once she's good to go, he starts to move towards the door. It's a mysterious, closed door. Of COURSE he's going to open it.

Enzo is not going to be the first person to the door into the little machine room, mostly because he has to get up and reorient himself a fair bit. He reaches inside of his jacket for a clean handkerchief and dabs at his forehead before ambling after the others. It actually looks pretty normal inside of there, he looks suspicious. "Hm." If they're going to go inside, he'll certainly follow because being thrown off his peacock mount isn't going to stop him from going inside of the thing just tried to fling him thirty feet, okay?

Anne slides off her glass peacock, rubbing at the bump growing on her forehead. It's just a little knot, at least. "There's not a lot of room in there," she bites on her bottom lip as she comes around to leeaaan into the doorway, checking out the not actual guts. "But. I mean. Maybe it's bigger on the inside?" she looks back over her shoulder to the group and gives a shrug. There's a few blinky-blinks in Enzo's direction when she spots him bleeding, but he doesn't look like he's going to bleed out or anything so... "I'll go in. See what's in there. If it's just pipes and stuff, we can try to see what else is around the park?" She's already moving to get into the door and squeeze herself in.

August sways in place, trying to get his bearings. He sees Alexander and Isabella at the maintenance hatch, moves to join them. Nothing weird or gross, like he'd half expected, which is maybe disconcerting on its own. After being centrifuged on a glass peacock it's off-putting to see something so mundane.

"Yeah," he agrees with Anne, wary. And, well, if anyone's going to fit in there he's not him. He pulls out his journal, starts making notes.

Steadied from her wobbly stance, there's a grateful smile cast Alexander's way before they Scooby Gang up around the new entrance. Anne might be the smallest one, but Isabella's not about to let her go alone, or leave her without support. So when she gets down on her knees to squeeze through, she offers, "I'll hang onto you." Her hands close over one of the other woman's ankles, if she allows, and keeps herself low on the ground, just in case.

"Anne, don't--" Annnd it's too late. Alexander breathes out an exasperated breath. He mutters something very quietly to himself. The words 'Patrick' and 'basement' might be made out by those particularly alert, but when Isabella moves forward to steady the archivist, Alexander moves forward to stead her on her shoulders. "If something grabs you, yell," he tells Anne, as if she wouldn't anyway.

"Good luck!" Enzo calls out to Anne and Isabella as they go crawling/walking into this maintenance space. "Aw, fuck." Enzo mutters when she goes down through the floor.

"I'll be fiiiine, Alexander!" Anne flashes one more dimpled smile to the group, her expression turning grateful when Isabella offers to hold onto her ankles. "I'll be right back, I promise." And then she promptly breaks that promise by falling through the floor. At least the closing of the floor muffles her screaming on the way down.

August gives Alexander a sidelong look of, 'did you actually think one of these two wasn't going in there'. But that trap door sure does prove Alexander right a whole 5 seconds later.

"Shit." He reaches to stabilize Isabella, prevent her from falling through at the same time. "This fucking carousel, I fucking swear." He stares at the trap door, trying to decide if they're all going in there with her, or not.

Ding!

"...why does that sound like a microwave saying that food is ready?" Isabella wonders very, very quietly.

She's got a firm grip, but something else happens. Her friend is there one moment, and gone in the next and she nearly topples in after her when the floor suddenly gives. "ANNE!" the archaeologist cries. She's screaming all the way down, it fills her ears and sets every sense on fire, and before she knows it, she, too, is attempting to clamber inside, because she's going to go after her - there's no way she's leaving her there by herself. She looks up at Alexander and now August keeping her steady.

"We can't leave her in there alone for too long, we might never get her back!"

"Son of a bitch!" Alexander's curse is not at all in an indoor voice. Cold terror for Anne washed down his spine. And, admittedly, there's just the slightest tickle in the back of his brain of oh fuck, Patrick is going to murder me, and he's probably going to be sarcastic about it to go along with it. "Fine, my ass! And Isabella, don't you dare." He launches himself at the space without hesitation, mostly to keep Isabella from going first. "August, watch them," he snarls.

August gives Alexander an incredulous look of 'how do you expect me to keep Isabella from following you, exactly.'

Nope. She's going in. The moment Alexander goes through, she's sliding inside. "I don't think so!" Isabella yells, frustration and exasperation in equal measure. She rolls in the moment he's cleared.

"Oh, fuck no. I'll definitely fly off it this time, I'm going down the hole." But then it starts to close. Enzo makes a motion like he's forcing a door open, physically, but it just looks like a stupid mime thing where he struggles A LOT. But it slows enough for him and August to squeeze through and go down into the mysterious hole of death. Probably.

August climbs in last, wincing as he's forced to cram his aching bones into that little room so he can get in the trap door. "Alexander, if we survive this, you and I are having a talk about how you think you're the only adult around here," he grouses to himself.

Anne doesn't stop screaming until she's dumped out onto the mat, the wind knocked out of her. "Oh god," she groans, not yet aware of her surroundings, mostly because she's distracted by Isabella's not-long-after tumble out of the shoot. ".. Isabella? Where are the others?!" she pushes herself up, blue eyes wide and darting around in frantic search for the boys, only to see the dolls. And then the mat starts to move, and the buzz of the saw is unmistakeable. Remember that screaming that stopped? It starts up again, as she grabs hold of Isabella's hand and starts to scramble backwards. "Oh my god oh my god oh my god!"

Have we talked about how much touch-phobic Alexander loves falls where he lands on other people and touches them without warning or desire? Let's talk about that! And by 'talk', the meta mostly means that Alexander lets out a wavering, panicked scream as he finds himself in that pile, even if he's able to twist to keep himself from getting squished, and he flails and kicks and stomps until he can scramble up, out, and away from the other two, gulping air and looking like he's about to be sick. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...Isabella?" A pause. "Where's Isabella?" Those dolls are looking at him, and he launches himself at the nearest one and begins to shake it violently. "WHERE THE FUCK IS ISABELLA?"

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-!" Enzo, you guys. He screams the whole way down. Then they land in the room and he's tangled up in a bunch of dudes and he makes an 'ugh' noise and starts to extract himself. "Where are the girls?" Alexander is freaking out. "I DON'T WANT TO TOUCH YOU EITHER!" It's unnecessarily loud. Then he stares at the dolls and swallows, "Oh fuck this. We should have stayed outside. Where the fuck are they? Is that a door?" Employees only? "Maybe we can find them in there."

She is the third one in, so Anne has time to move away from the entryway of the chute before Isabella is dumped along with her in the dolls and saws room. She groans, too, and rolls, her eyes lifting up from her sideswept bangs. Seeing Anne, though, there's palpable relief, reaching out for her immediately. "Anne! Are you alright? The others were with me just a few moments ago but we fell and I don't know where-- "

The mat starts to move. The saws flash their ragged teeth at them from a slowly receding distance. She keeps her grip tight on Anne as she starts screaming, green and gold eyes darting around quickly. "It's not going fast...Anne, listen...we need to get on the fence, okay? Let's try that. Move sideways, reach out and try and grab it. I'll steady you, if that doesn't work, I'll improvise." Her stare has already found the doll parts, and then the thrum of the gears. "But we have to move now!"

Doooown the chute they go, and where they land, only they know! ...because Isabella and Anne aren't here. August grunts as Alexander and then Email flail out of their dudepile like panicking carp. "God you two," he mutters.

His attention shifts to the toys which have taken an intense interest in them. Softly, and when great feeling, he whispers, "What the fuck." Alexander's violent manhandling of one of the dolls has him sighing, though he hears the scream before he can suggest Alexander maybe stop harassing a potentially innocent third party. "Shit. Yeah. Alexander--door."

Between the fall and the saw and the doll(s), Anne was in the process of Losing Her Shit. "Nonononono we're going to die, we're going to die!" she's pawing at Isabella to pull on her as she slides back-back-back on her rear, making every effort to keep as much distance between her and the saw as humanly possible. Her frantic darting gaze catches the sign though - as well as what's in the bin nearby, and that just has her screaming all over again. "DO YOU SEE THAT SIGN?!?!?!?! THERE'S A BODY IN THERE! WE'RE GOING TO DIE!" Now she's sobbing. Somebody (coughcough Isabella) should probably slap her.

Alexander doesn't seem likely to stop shaking the doll anytime soon. Fuck you, doll! But then that creepy/cheery voice he doesn't recognize starts up, and he whirls to face it. Something less like panic and more like sanity comes back to his features. "Jill. Jill Baxter. That's the girl who disappeared on the carousel the day Elvis died." He takes a deep breath, actually looks around. "...probably the wrong time to mention that the designer of this carousel was eventually convicted as a child molestor."

Enzo sends a flat look in Jill's direction. "No," he tells the doll. "I do not want to be your friend. I'm full up on friends." Enzo sucks, this is why he probably does not have that many friends. But he's not going to admit that to this TERRIFYING and CREEPY doll. He edges away from it with obvious and unmasked revulsion on his face and continues on to the door, grabs the handle and tries find out if it's locked. "Okay, well that's a fun history lesson, thanks!" He gaves Alexander a thumbs up.

Anne is screaming, and Isabella keeps her grip tight, attempting to back up from the saws as much as she can with her, but she's unable to think, and a panicking person is never a good idea to have in a deadly situation. "Anne, listen to me! Anne! ANNE!" And she does draw back her hand to slap her, a sharp, stinging blow that would probably redden that cheek if it connects, but one that will hopefully draw some semblance of calm back into her companion. "We're not going to die," she says, giving her a hard shake by the shoulders. "At least, we won't if we help each other, okay? The doll parts, we could use them to try and stop the saws. Try looking for a switch, and if we can't find one, we need to interfere with the mechanisms to stop the saws enough so we can climb through. Okay? Can you do that with me?"

She'll go first and attempt it, extending her abilities outward in an attempt to rip some of the sturdier-looking dolls off of their moorings to wedge into the gears controlling the saws and conveyor belt, if she can. But she's shaking too, and it's hard to keep a level head when your face is right in front of steel teeth on the verge of grinding you up.

Eyes on the Jill, uh, doll, August murmurs, "Now you tell us." He jerks his head after Enzo. "Come on. I heard one of them." Screaming, but he's not saying that. He's ready to try unlocking the EMPLOYEES ONLY door, or just break the damned hinges, if need be. He shouts, "Anne! Isabella!" in the off chance they might be able to hear him.

"No! I said I don't want to be your friend. No means no!" Enzo slaps at Jill's hand when he glances back and sees her reaching for him. "Learn the rules of consent." This is a fight he is willing to have with this utterly revolting veil creature. Also this door is locked, "God damn it," he mutters and gives the thing a shove. But it's probably not going to work. He looks back again to notice she's also reaching for Alexander. "Stop trying to touch everyone!" he scolds the doll, VERY SERIOUSLY. "Our friends are in danger and we're trying to get to them and we don't have time to hold your hand." Rude. So rude.

"We're going to die, we're going to die! Patrick's never going to forg--" WHACK! Anne doesn't finish her sentence because Isabella's hand goes flying across her cheek, startling her out of her panic. There's a few gulping breaths, but the sting on her cheek helps ground her to this terrible situation. "Thank you," she mumbles while rubbing at her cheek, before she pulls herself to her feet and continues to walk backward to keep away from the gnawing saw. "Okay, okay. We need to figure out this fence situation, maybe if I hoist you up, you can drop over.... Isabella, NO!" she can feel the determination from her friend, the decision to reach out to those dolls - but her warning was too late. The alarms go off, and the conveyer belt starts to move faster. "We're going to have to do this on our own. Get as far to the end as possible, I'm going to throw you over this fucking fence." Anne's found her stubborn determination. She grabs Isabella's arm and yanks her backward to the end of the conveyer belt.

Alexander also snatches his hands away from Jill, horrified. He stares at her. "You...you lost your hair." Because it's the only thing he can think to say as he backs away from her and slowly towards the door that they're trying to break down. He drops the other doll he's holding, so he can waggle his fingers at her. "I'm sorry you're dead, but we're not touching friends, yet. We're looking for friends, though. Can you help us find them?"

It's just like the footstep tag. The moment she extends her control outward, at Anne's cry, she knows she made a mistake and she was just healed from that ordeal. Isabella grits her teeth when the conveyor belt kicks back up, and she shakes her head. "No, you're right. It's just like that game," she murmurs. The other woman does remind her how malleable that fence is. "Wait...I'm heavier. I can leap up as high as I can go, and pull it down, and you can climb over it to get to the other side. Do you want to try that?" Her friend is smaller, and she's unsure if Anne can actually throw her over the edge, but this she can do and if there are no other objections, she'll try to do that.

The alarm and locked door push August past 'unlock it' to 'break that thing open'. He curls one hand into a fist, focuses on the hinges, the lock, all of it, and breaks it all apart. The drama with Jill doesn't concern him for the moment, just getting to Anne and Isabella. And, well, he's not feeling this whole 'staring dolls' room.

"Oh my god, what did I JUST say to you!" Enzo says to Jill with exasperation when she grabs Alexander and starts squeezing. Then the door turns to rubble and all of the dolls start to come to life. "Oh, fuck me." So he dive-tackles toward Jill. Look, she had it coming.

"Okay, I'm gonna throw you over and you drag down the fence. We've got this, babe," she puts her hands on Isabella's shoulders to give them an encouraging squeeze, though it's hard to say who she's actually trying to reassure here. "Hey, but do me a favor, okay? If you make it out of here..." Deep breaths, Anne, slow and steady. "You send Patrick some red roses and white carnations, okay? But you don't tell him that he's was right." She gives Isabella a peck on the cheek - MWAH! - and then wedges her foot against the back of the conveyer belt and drops down into a crouch, grabbing Isabella's foot into her hands. And while Anne may be tiny, she is MIGHTY! There's a groan of strain as she pushes upward, effectively getting Isabella up high enough to grasp the very top of the fence and hoist her over.

But while Isabella will manage to get the fence down with her weight .. Anne finds out that cramming her foot into the end of the conveyer belt was not a good idea. She's stuck. Her eyes bulge in realization as she frantically tries to free herself. "I'm stuck, I'm stuck! SHIT!" And there's pulling, and tugging, and Anne slips out of her sneaker and goes FLAILING, landing onto the conveyer belt and smacking her head hard onto it. It leaves her temporarily dazed ... and quickly being dragged to the saws.

"Wait, I said--OW!" Alexander's voice changes from a protest to a howl of surprise and pain as Jill grabs and squeeeeeezes. He yanks his hand free, bleeding from those shard bits, but that doesn't stop him from reaching to his lower back and grabbing the horn-handled knife from its concealed sheath. Then she and her mean girl squad start jumping Enzo, and he curses. He wades in, slashing with the knife to try and drive back the dolls until he can make a grab for Enzo and try and guide (or sling him over one shoulder and carry) him back towards the now open door.

Enzo is basically getting his ass fucking handed to him. From the ground he shouts, "YOU OWE ME A FUCKING BEER AFTER THIS, CLAYOOOONAHHGHGH!" Ow, ow, oh god. This is actually really, really bad. Moment of silence and then, "AND SAY MY NAME RIGHT FROM NOW ON!" Things are not going well for him. There's a whole lot of grunting and screaming and overall torture sounds coming from him when he's not just yelling absolute nonsense at Alexander from his position on the ground. He fights back, but uh, how well is debatable.

Fuck you, door! Except the Jills sure didn't like that. Not one fucking bit. He sucks in a breath as Jill gives Enzo a taste of her friendship, turns to face the oncoming mob. "Why do I get the feeling this place is sensitive to using our power?" He moves to kick the Jill dolls off Enzo. "This isn't how friends behave. You should be ashamed of yourselves."

Over the sound of the alarms and saws, he calls to Anne and Isabella, "We're in here. Don't use the Art!"

"Hell no." Isabella reaches out to touch Anne's cheek, looking at her seriously in the eye. A small smile tugs on the corners of her mouth. "I'm definitely not giving Cambridge flowers of any kind, so you can do that yourself because I am not leaving you here." And with that, she braces her foot on Anne's palm and gets hoisted over the edge, but when she attempts to bend it out in order for Anne to be free, also, she ends up getting stuck.

"ANNE!" she cries, just as August and company busts through the door, his warning coming through. "We got it! But Anne's stuck!" Oh god, oh god, oh god. In a panic, she yanks her gun from the waistband of her leggings. removing the magazine and dislodging the bullet in the chamber, and once she's sure that all projectiles have been cleared on it, she attempts to throw the heavy metallic thing over the fence to land into the conveyor belt - if the saws grind it up, maybe it'll give them some time to get Anne out.

"Hurry and help me with this!" she yells, regarding the fence.

The thing about being temporarily dazed is that it seems to wear off just before the real horror happens. The stars stop swimming in front of Anne's eyes in time to give her a clear view of the hungry saws eager to get their teeth on her hand .. and then there's pain and blood and she's screaming all over again. It's a horrible mess - the blood starts gushing and squirting and sprays across her face, and she's rapidly kicking her feet in every attempt of trying to get away, but it's too late. But just before it snaps through the bone, Isabella's gun grinds the gears to a halt, enabling to wrench her hand back. The saw teeth shred the skin on her hand, knuckles and fingers, but she pulls it out, blood pumping out everywhere. She's not looking great, and the drunken stumble that happens as she climbs to her feet suggests just how woozy she is.

"Izzy, I don't think.. I'm not gonna.." that fence seems very tall, but she propels herself forward, knocking into the fence with her shoulder and causing it to rattle with her weight.

"Fine! I'll buy you a goddamned--augh! Ow! Get offa me!" Alexander is slashing and cutting, but now one's on his FACE. He reaches up to try and tear it off with his non-stabby hand and start beating another Jill doll to...whatever passes for death here with it. As August joins, he says, "Get him away from them! They're OW! Hurting--fuck! Get him out!"

Enzo's ass is officially kicked. He looks like he got jumped by a bunch of goons and not some dolls that he tried to bumrush and lost a fight with. It would probably be "smart" to try and use some physical here, but he's beyond thinking straight and there aren't even anymore frantic shouts about dumb shit to Alexander, which is probably not great news. He's still rolling around uselessly on the ground though, so there is that.

All the blood. Isabella grows absolutely ashen when crimson splashes over the gears, her green-and-gold eyes wide. There's a fury-laden scream, fueled by fear, ripped from her throat as she basically hurls her entire body into the fence, clawing at the links in a frenzied attempt to rip the flimsy thing down so she can get to her stumbling friend. Tears start to blur her vision, but they don't fall. Not yet.

"Anne, just...we'll get you out. We'll...just hang on for me, okay?" She turns her fury to her own clothing, ripping a strip off so she could attempt to reach through the links. "Let me see that for a second." She's doing her best not to cry; she's definitely about to, but she will do her best to fashion a temporary tourniquet around Anne's bleeding arm. "I can't trust that the saws won't start going again, but the chutes...do you think you can get to those? We need to get you out of there." She can hear a fight in the other room too and it's not helping her composure. But oh god she's trying.

August just imagines soccer balls instead of creepy dolls and that makes it way easier to get the job done. "You're not a good friend at all," he says, trying to get Enzo free so he can haul him into the other room. "Sorry we've kind of got a problem in here!" he calls to Isabella and Anne.

Anne was pretty white too, considering all the blood she was losing. But she stays leaned against the fence while Isabella tries to wrap a makeshift tourniquet around her arm, if only because the thought of trying to get over the fence seemed impossible in the moment. "This is funny," she is not laughing though, she just sounds pretty woozy, like she could pass out at any given moment. "... he kept saying it was dangerous and we were being punished but I said I knew what I was doing. You know he brings me flowers but he won't keep a bag at the house, Izzy? Don't let Enzo die, okay? I think he'd kill me if I got his family dead." It was the kind of nonsensical rambling of someone who was rapidly losing blood. But Isabella's mention of the chute has her slowly turning, and she sees the chute - didn't it have a dead body in it? "Oh. Okay," she tries to smile at Isabella, but it's too much effort. "I'm okay, I'm gonna be fine. Remember the flowers." Hopefully something terrible doesn't happen, 'cuz she's going to stumble and FALL into the chute.

"Hey. Hey. Fuck, Addington, keep yelling nonsense," Alexander orders. It is not an order Enzo listens to, so Alexander's jaw sets, and he just starts smashing the hilt of his knife down on little doll skulls, and stabbing into stuffing-filled bodies so that he can fling them away. Gore and stuffing is going everywhere, but he doesn't seem to care. Instead, as soon as there's enough clear for him to grab Enzo and toss him over one shoulder, he does. "Let's get the fuck out of here. Are Isabella and Anne in there??"

She ties the tourniquet securely. "...no, men're like that," Isabella tells her softly, pushing Anne's hair away from her eyes and moisture slipping down one cheek as she does. "I'll tell you about this weird conversation I had with Alexander about a drawer, later, but try not to hold that against him. Go on. We'll be right behind you."

With Anne disappearing through the chute, she'll attempt to clear a path, and find another way through. With the sounds of the melee dying outside, she scrubs her eyes with the back of her hand, moving for the door. "Anne's badly hurt, we have to leave," she tells the rest of her companions through clenched teeth. "How's Enzo? We need to go through the spare parts chute."

August kicks at the Jill gnawing on him, but it's Alexander who gets rid of her. "Thanks," he says, trying to get his breath, and leans over to help haul Enzo onto Alexander's shoulder. Enzo's not particularly conscious, but seems to be alive, so there's that. "Yeah." He limps along towards the door, kicking at any Jills that come at him with his good foot.

You see Anne? Well NOW YA DON'T. She falls out of existence. Weee.

"Then go!" Alexander is booting Jills as he stumbles under the weight of Enzo, but with August's help, manages not to fall on his face. He goes a little ashen when he sees the other room. "Isabella! I-" And then the Jills are going bugfuck, and he's just moving forward. "Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go now! How do we get out!" He was not paying attention for the chute portion of the evening.

Isabella facilitates this by lovingly, tenderly, shoving Alexander and Enzo into the spare parts chute. "August, come on!" she cries, reaching out in an attempt to grab the Combat Botanist's hand and push him in also.

August needs no encouragement; he helps get Enzo in, then climbs in after.

Alexander is shoved. He doesn't actually protest this, because Handsy Jill is terrifying and has pieces of his hair. He does try to cushion Enzo's body a little bit as he falls into the chute.

Isabella follows after them, but not before one last glance behind her to take a look at the other room before doing so.

Ugh. It's gross. The port-a-potty is almost an upgrade over body parts and the sickening fact of Anne and Enzo's injuries alongside the occasional shove against something decidedly not plastic or porceline. They don't fit, though, so here they go, all spilling out of the Honey Bucket onto the slushy, freezing ground.

"You're damned right you will," August says on a groan, his bitten ankle now a sprained and bitten ankle. He hobbles to his feet, staggers over to Anne. "We need to get these two to the hospital." He yanks a handkerchief out of his pocket and starts binding her saw-cut as tight as he can.

At least Alexander has a good idea what's coming as he slithers down the horrific chute in a very tight line that is absolutely going to end in a people pile. He knows that, and so when he does land with bruising force, he lets out an unhappy whimper at...so, so many things. And then Isabella falls on top of him, and they roll out into the ground. But he does not lose his shit. Instead he picked up a bit of other's people's. Ew. He slowly staggers to his feet. "Anne. Jesus, what happened to her han--never mind. Saws. Right." He's totally on board with trying to get everyone who is injured moving towards the hospital.

Anne was already on the verge of unconsciousness when she fell into the chute. But after landing on the nasty, poo-smeared floor of the port-o-potty and having all of her companions land on top of her and break her foot? She's totally passing out now. Hospital is a great idea.

Gravity is a cruel mistress, and when the world unfolds again and Isabella falls, something snaps in the middle of it when she lands on top of Alexander. Pain registers in a blistering shot spiderwebbing across her senses and for a while she doesn't move, groaning softly. When she slowly lifts her head, she still, somehow, manages to glare daggers at Larry guffawing. "I tried to put a tourniquet on Anne but she needs medical attention immediately," she says, rising on her feet and clutching her side, gritting her teeth. Glancing at her friend's injury and all of the blood, she grows visibly sick, but she's definitely coming with them to the hospital if not just to see that Enzo and Anne get to where they need to go. "Everyone else alright?" Her eyes flick to August and she reaches out to touch Alexander's arm, expression tight - the fact that he isn't too terribly injured is so overwhelmingly relieving that she nearly folds over. Then she buries her head and face into his shoulder.

Well, now Anne and Enzo are out. August sighs heavily. "My car's right over there," he says to Isabella and Alexander. "We can drive them into the ER." He eyes the carousel. "So. Now we know--sometimes using the Art triggers traps." He glances at Isabella. "Might be worth sorting out a way to detect that. Like we've been thinking of for other things."