"Hmm. Maybe I should go looking for him.." Bleys said, then reconsidered. "Hell, let me try to Trump him. It worked once." Benedict nodded; it was sound reasoning. He resisted the urge to tell Bleys to be careful, though he was ready for any other exploding Trumps.
Bleys sorted through his deck, pulling out Random's card. He concentrated on it, but finally shook his head. "It feels like Random is sleeping. His spirit might still be dormant, like Flora's was before we found it.. er.. her."
Ben glanced to Flora, "What caused you to waken?" Fiona at this time emerged from the other room, carrying some petri dishes. She walked over to an unused table, and began setting up her equipment, ignoring the rest of them.
"I don't know. It was morning and you were in the room. I was on my bed and woke up like I usually do from sleep--at least, that's what it felt like," Flora answered.
"Interesting," Benedict commented.
"I remember being cold and trying to reach for the covers, but couldn't," she added in afterthought.
"Perhaps we'll have to go have a looksee, then," Ben said, glancing over to Fiona for a moment, then back to everyone else.
"Yes," Llewella said, "That would probably be a good idea."
Benedict stood, swaying only slightly. That was good; the drugs were taking effect in full force now. He looked around to the rest, then settled on Flora, "I can't hold the sign any longer, sorry, Flora." He let the mental picture go, watching his sister fade from view. He rubbed his temple then, "I've a splitting headache..."
Bleys nodded, "I'll go. Flora, you should come with me, you may be able to see him too." Callie offered as well, but Llewella hesistated. Ben didn't blame her--she had tons of work to do.
Benedict turned towards Llewella, "If we've your leave, then?" She nodded, and Benedict half-bowed to her. He would have given her a full one, but he was rather afraid that he'd topple over. She Trumped out.
"Well, then, let's go check it out," Bleys said. Benedict nodded in agreement. Yes, let's. And what will we find there? Another ghost? Nothing? Something else? He checked a sigh, and headed towards the doorway. The others followed in short order, and sooner than later, they were standing in front of Random's door.
At this point, Benedict felt acutely uncomfortable, and not just from the fever (that was, thankfully, going down still). No, it was from the fact that none of his siblings had ever seen him...cast spells, or in this case, dismiss one. He didn't know if Bleys, or Flora, would care or not. They probably wouldn't, being a bit too concentrated on the problem at hand. Still, for some reason, he hesistated for a moment before reciting the phrase that would release the energies.
After the spells were dismissed, Benedict stepped aside for Flora to go through. He felt the stirrings of a cool breeze slip by him, and Bleys followed. Callandra hung back in the hall, looking a touch queasy. Benedict, for the most part, stood in the doorway, not quite wanting to enter either. "I..didn't spend much time in here, after seeing Flora's rooms," he said with a shrug, as if in apology.
The room was still a mess, though by some other invader or Random it was hard to tell. Probably some of both. Before his thoughts wandered off with him, Callandra interrupted. "I guess I better get used to it, huh?" she asked before squaring her shoulders and walking inside.
He patted her on the shoulder, and tried to give a reassuring smile. It felt ghastly on his face, and he dropped it immediately. "It'll be alright," he said, "You're protected." However, he didn't think that was what she was talking about. He didn't have any idea of the right thing to say, so he stuck with reassurances. They were always safe.
After she was inside, Benedict heard Bleys calling throughout the rooms for Random. He stepped inside, hovering somewhere near Callandra, and looked around...really looked around. It was the first time he'd done so since this mess started, and he figure that if there had been a double, maybe there were signs of a fight. After a few minutes of looking, he deduced that there had been a fight here...either that, or Random had grown a split personality and was throwing things at himself.
Bleys must have reached the same conclusion he did, as his brother called out as he rejoined the main room, "Yeah, this looks less and less like a suicide." Benedict wanted to say something, but held his tongue. Flora's death was never a suicide in Ben's eyes. She would never do anything like that. Random, on the other hand, was tempermental and moody, at least lately, as well as hitting the alcohol heavily. Anything was possible there, though Ben was still inclined to think that no one in his family would stoop to such measures as to take their own lives. "I never thought it was in the first place," he finally said, "neither of them. Flora never would, and Random's too self-absorbed, like most of us." Yes, he thought, That rings true. He wouldn't do this to himself; he thinks he's too important. Just like most of us. Benedict paused mentally for a moment before adding himself to that list as well. Might as well be honest with myself, he thought, somewhat bitterly.
"Ok," Bleys called out again, "I'm making an observation. Either he's incredibly clever, or Evil Shadow Flora is just incredibly more competent than "brother" Random. Whatta mess."
Benedict frowned. "Well...mine was..." and he paused. What to say here? My worst nightmare come true and walking around, screaming for my blood? No...it wasn't that bad. It was...subdued. Like me. Sort of. He struggled with the right words for a minute before completing his thought, "...rather like me, echoing my style, but not exactly." He glanced around the room again, wondering again where Random went, if anywhere.
Callandra looked around, peeking in a closet, "Looks to me like somebody had a major tantrum."
"Quite possible," Bleys replied. "Either way, I don't think he's here. Then again, I think most of us would proabaly have wandered off if we were in the same situation. We'll have to wait for him to make his presence felt, I guess."
Benedict shrugged, "Probably."
Bleys turned around to empty air, "You didn't feel anything, did you Flora?" He cocked his head, and looked towards a spot sort of in the middle of the room, where Random's body would have been hanging, were it still here. He glanced around, spotting the chair. It looked about a yard away from the spot, and like it would have been kicked away. The trajectory was right, anyhow. There goes that evidence, he thought quietly.
"Hmm.." Bleys said, "Let's simulate what I did before. Ben, I'm going to pull you through a Trump, you mind?"
Benedict frowned, walking over to the chair. Yes...looks about right... "Where did you find him exactly?"
"Hanging around right where you're standing. I can show you the exact spot if you want.. it was some sort of magical construction, vanished when I tried to cut him down," his brother replied. He indicated the exact spot. Benedict frowned, walking around the spot. It looks like he would have either kicked it away, but then it wouldn't be broken. So, more like, he was struggling, and ended up kicking it harder a second time maybe...or more...which would indicate that the fall didn't break his neck. He scratched his jaw, Not without the realm of possibility for us, easily. But did he hang himself up? Or his double hang him up? Or his double hang himself up? Benedict's mind swam with possiblities, and unknowables. How exactly do they make the switch anyway? Do we need to be alive, and killed by them? Or does it matter, if their energies reanimate the body, make it live again?
He stopped that train of thought, and turned to Bleys, agreeing to the Trump experiment. Bleys pulled him through without a problem.
Bleys shrugged, "Nope, didn't expect anything, and I wasn't disappointed. Let's head back downstairs."
Ben nodded in agreement, "Maybe Fiona has something by now."
As they headed out, Ben stopped. "I'll be down shortly." He watched Callandra and Bleys leave, then rechanted the ancient words, retraced the diagram to seal the room again. He headed downstairs after that work was done, glancing out a window as he trotted down the stairs. Oh, man, it's hardly past noon, he thought dismally, This day is taking forever. He sighed to himself, and thought of all the other events that was supposed to happen today, like the Asgardians' arrival. He wasn't looking forward to it. And on top of thing, he was hungry, as he hadn't had a chance to grab breakfast.
All in all, a pretty dismal day, and it was barely half over.
Get your own Free Home Page