[There it is. The portal, just as promised. Black Hat wastes no time, throwing himself through the rift, fueled by the thoughts of what he will be doing to Flug for this transgression. Wring his neck, perhaps? Restrain him and force him to watch as his beloved little bear is torn asunder over and over for days? Slaughter all the guests he'd invited, and pin the blame solely on Flug? Such possibilities! His fury is a comforting blaze, and, oh, how he will spread it when he returns-
-to jolt up suddenly as he awakens, as if from a dream. It's the only way he can really think to describe it - the fury from Fairwell is still very much present, but tempered by the return to Ryslig. Of course Flug couldn't be responsible. Once again, a bloody inconvenience plaguing the midmonth in this hellhole of a peninsula.
Black Hat growls and works the stiffness from his joints as he stands. Very little has changed since he sat down - has any time passed at all? But it only takes a glance out the window to see that the Fog has arrived.
The Fog... Flug.
In a burst of flame Black Hat is in the room where he's left Flug's body, only to find that it’s not there. A sense of… something runs through him, something he can’t quite place. A mixture of positive and negative, that the fog has indeed done its duty and Black Hat is absolved of his error, but now Flug is missing and that cannot stand, so he spins on his heel to go and find the lost scientist and oh wait there he is.
Black Hat stares at the body slumped against the door for longer than he should, seemingly dumbfounded at how Flug has moved a grand total of five feet without resurrecting. Did someone break in? No, nothing else is disturbed.
He grabs Flug’s bag and pulls it off, expecting those empty eyes to stare back at him again - but now they’re closed. They weren’t before, he knows this, he watched Flug’s miserable meat sack closely enough to know this is change, that all he would do was blink subconsciously.
Something changed while Black Hat was in that memory-wiping simulation. And Black Hat is no scientist, to test and prod and poke to figure out what has happened. The fog has returned, but Flug is still gone.
It is possible, he supposes, that Flug was pulled into that town as well - but surely they would have crossed paths, would they not? Although perhaps it’s for the better that they didn’t; the embers of rage Black Hat was nursing while hurtling himself through the portal ‘home’ would have been turned to killing Flug.
Again.
Frustrated, Black Hat gives Flug’s body a shove, pushing it over.]
Why do I even bother? You’re more trouble than you’re worth.
[Seven days was the limit given in Farewell, wasn’t it? Black Hat escaped before that time went up. That’s it, then. He’ll keep on as he had been prior to that mess, pretending Flug is simply away while puppeting the man’s body as necessary.
And so the routine begins again, monitoring Flug, arguing with his body, watching him, grumbling at him, scanning for signs of consciousness, and, once a day, possessing his form to keep it fed.
some time after that /waves hands vaguely
-to jolt up suddenly as he awakens, as if from a dream. It's the only way he can really think to describe it - the fury from Fairwell is still very much present, but tempered by the return to Ryslig. Of course Flug couldn't be responsible. Once again, a bloody inconvenience plaguing the midmonth in this hellhole of a peninsula.
Black Hat growls and works the stiffness from his joints as he stands. Very little has changed since he sat down - has any time passed at all? But it only takes a glance out the window to see that the Fog has arrived.
The Fog... Flug.
In a burst of flame Black Hat is in the room where he's left Flug's body, only to find that it’s not there. A sense of… something runs through him, something he can’t quite place. A mixture of positive and negative, that the fog has indeed done its duty and Black Hat is absolved of his error, but now Flug is missing and that cannot stand, so he spins on his heel to go and find the lost scientist and oh wait there he is.
Black Hat stares at the body slumped against the door for longer than he should, seemingly dumbfounded at how Flug has moved a grand total of five feet without resurrecting. Did someone break in? No, nothing else is disturbed.
He grabs Flug’s bag and pulls it off, expecting those empty eyes to stare back at him again - but now they’re closed. They weren’t before, he knows this, he watched Flug’s miserable meat sack closely enough to know this is change, that all he would do was blink subconsciously.
Something changed while Black Hat was in that memory-wiping simulation. And Black Hat is no scientist, to test and prod and poke to figure out what has happened. The fog has returned, but Flug is still gone.
It is possible, he supposes, that Flug was pulled into that town as well - but surely they would have crossed paths, would they not? Although perhaps it’s for the better that they didn’t; the embers of rage Black Hat was nursing while hurtling himself through the portal ‘home’ would have been turned to killing Flug.
Again.
Frustrated, Black Hat gives Flug’s body a shove, pushing it over.]
Why do I even bother? You’re more trouble than you’re worth.
[Seven days was the limit given in Farewell, wasn’t it? Black Hat escaped before that time went up. That’s it, then. He’ll keep on as he had been prior to that mess, pretending Flug is simply away while puppeting the man’s body as necessary.
And so the routine begins again, monitoring Flug, arguing with his body, watching him, grumbling at him, scanning for signs of consciousness, and, once a day, possessing his form to keep it fed.
As he is doing some time later.]