towerofanimus | I always feel like somebody's watchin' me...

Characters: Romano and anyone! Keep him company~
Setting: [F18] Study, evening
Format: Prose~ but I will match you!
Summary: It seemed like a quieter place to read than even the (original) library, with all its computer clickings and weird children running around everywhere. However, Romano wasn't prepared for how creepy this floor could be when one was alone.
Warnings: Romano maybe? Idk I will change this if something happens.

Once again, Romano had discovered that the tower had expanded, literally overnight. After the first couple of times, he began to handwave it as being part of this tower's 'magic' or whatever it had. He really shouldn't be believing in magic, it was kid's stuff. Stuff found in books. England's books, if we're being specific. Regardless, there were new floors.

Some of them were nightmares. He'd hustled down the stairs on each of those floors that morning. Especially that dark room-- and that bloody room. That was better left un-investigated, he thought. Leave that to the people who wanted to die horrible (equally bloody) deaths. Instead, he'd eyed the room with the tables and study nooks the way a person eyed a car they really really wanted. After eating for the day (ice cream and pie... again, ugh) he found some time alone to read a book -- just a short little romance novel he picked up from the library. The privacy promised by the floor was enough to lure him.

But when he actually found himself there, seated quietly and beginning to read the first few words, the lights dimmed the slightest bit. Almost unnoticeable. Unless you're a coward, then you tend to notice things changing like that. He tried to keep reading, but the more he read, the dimmer the lights seemed to get, until he was sure he was hearing things. Phantom knocking, whispers.

There was an awful feeling of something being just behind him, and though he fretted, he kept reading. If he turned around, he probably wouldn't like what he saw anyway. D-Damn it.

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His teeth were on edge. Karasu had had enough of the sweets that seemed to be passing for food here. He wouldn't deny that the first few days he'd enjoyed them (he'd only ever had pancakes, the once, and this was sweeter even than those, how could this be a bad thing?) but enough was enough. He was irritated, but not irritated enough to be murderous. Not quite yet. That would come later, he could be patient. But he was irritated enough to want, to need to play pranks on someone. And the brunet with the angry face and the hurry to his walk was a perfect target.

He stalked behind him, following him to a new area of the tower he'd never seen before, quiet niches to read or study or nap or something. Peaceful. Solitary. Jackpot. No one would be able to save his chosen victim from the torment he'd unleash. And, well, he hadn't been properly intrigued in a good while. This could be quite worthwhile, if his new toy proved properly entertaining.

With these thoughts in mind, Karasu wandered around the new space, close enough for the clik... clik... clik... of his boots to be heard, close enough to watch his chosen victim's reactions. Close enough to see and wonder just what was beginning to worry this new source of entertainment. He had not yet begun to play.

Said chosen victim was happily (if not nervously) reading away at his little romance novel. The male lead in the book was no where near as handsome or charming as an Italian man, but Romano figured he'd chalk it up to being a product of American literature. At least, he assumed this was American literature. It was in english, but the author wasn't anyone he knew. Weird.

Heather stopped trying to run from the man she'd assumed to be her ex. As it turned out it was another; a tall dark and handsome stranger she'd never expect to see in real life, the type of man only found in her dreams. And here he was, catching her in the street and with sweat beading on his brow, he held out his hand. It was a wallet. Her wallet. The one she'd dropped outside of work when the hobo had leapt at her and surprised her. With a smile, the man leaned in closer and smALKSJDSDFOWIEHRJLSKDJFSDF---

What was that clicking noise? That clicking noise sounded close. So close. He nervously looked around him, definitely beginning to wish he'd second-guessed his idea to come to this floor.

Edited 2011-09-25 04:05 (UTC)

The nervous looks would have had Karasu steepling his hands and chuckling darkly, if he were a stereotypical villain from one of the little novels like his prey was reading. As it was he settled for moving closer, letting a laugh slide like dark velvet from his throat, and for good measure making certain his footfalls could be heard. The lights were dimming and flickering, and he wasn't quite certain what was doing that, but he couldn't complain.

After all, he could see just fine, even if adjusting to the lights was giving him a headache, and it just added to his creeping. There were more shadows for him to hide in. Perhaps this tower wasn't such a hindrance after all, if it (whether knowingly or not, he couldn't say) assisted in his schemes this way.

_{_{[ooc: LJ Y U MUCK UP MY POSTING LIKE THAT /table flip]}}

That laughter crawled up his spine like a steady and determined spider and it was all he could do to not be paralyzed with fear. The footsteps were getting closer and he really really really wanted to leave this room now. He turned to look for a source again, this time calling out.

"W-Who's there, damn it! I have a weapon, so cut the shit!" Said weapon was only his switchblade, but he wouldn't tell whatever was haunting him that. Best to talk big and hope whatever it is runs away. And if that fails, he's about to haul ass.

Oh a weapon. Whatever would he do. Karasu was fighting back laughter as he heard the threat, and the quiver in the man's voice. He could play this game as expertly as anyone else, and he would. He stopped, a smirk in his voice as he called out.

"Perhaps I don't want to tell."

His steps were slower now, quieter, almost so quiet as to be unheard. This just got better and better, it was almost enough to make him forget how irritated he was before.

Well, a voice calling back in this room was starting to be old news, but it still scared the hell out of the Italian. Romano's own fight or flight instincts were leaning heavily towards flight.

"T-Tell me anyway!" He paused after saying that, realizing that he probably shouldn't be ordering scary things around. Shit.

This was starting to get a little boring. He decided to up the ante once again. He darted in even closer, reaching out to brush his hand against the short locks of hair at the back of the man's neck. Huh, for the first time someone who seemed to know how to take care of themselves, Karasu thought as he stepped back into the gloom of the shadows.

"And if I don't feel inclined to?" he questioned as he faded back.

The ever so slight touch was enough to send chills of fear PARADING up Romano's spine. He bolted up out of his chair with his book in hand and pretty much prepared to run to the door.

"Then I-I'll, I'll just leave! Bye, vaffanculo!"

Karasu was puzzled- 'vaffanculo'? He'd heard a great deal of things in his life, but that particular one was a new one on him. He paused, ready to dart for the door himself if his entertainment got any bright ideas, and kept to the partial shadows. He wasn't done having fun yet, after all.

"What does that mean?" he questioned.

"It means fuck you, that's what!" He wasn't lying, anyway. Yeah Romano's next plan of action was to rush to the door, and he was already on his way there at the speed of an extremely frightened Italian.

I always feel like somebody's watchin' me...

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/MAKES UNSURE FACES FOREVER

MY EVIL SMILE. LET ME SHOW YOU IT. >3 Also purple prose alert.

creys

/ALL OF MY EVIL LAUGHTER >D

R U D E

That would be him, yes. U mad?

OH EM GEE CREEPER 4 LYFE

WHAT YOU WERE EXPECTING SOMETHING NICE FROM THIS GUY?

no subject