[It started slowly. Faintly. Even almost as a joke... or 602 thought it's a joke.

It apparently wasn't, and he has to realize that when he witnesses the letters born in front of his eyes 'G O D I S N O W H E R E' . The wall of his room's slowly covered by the phrase.

"God Is Now Here" or is it "God Is Nowhere" he can read both everywhere, and he's not sure which one he finds more terrifying.

Terrifying. Yes that's the word. 602 is scared, and it gets worse as he looks around and his room is decorated with dark red letters, repeating the same even darker sentences. 602 tries to keep the unholy scream inside as he hurries to the door to get away, but as he stumbles out the corridor it's covered too. Everything is written on, every surface...

602 lets out a hysteric laugh, but it frees the screaming too. It's not just a simple scream. It's a cry of something ancient in madness, shaking the cheesy pictures of landscapes on the walls, the loose doorknobs, the door frames...

Before he himself knows he's already dashing down the stairs and outside to where there are no walls.]



((OOC: The sentences are visible to others too, but only appear around Gabriel. They could be read either as "God is now here", or "God is nowhere". ))

[it's an ordinary day down on Floor 2. Quiet and peaceful (or as quiet and peaceful as it could get with the people living on there). Certainly, no doors have been blown off their hinges yet. But if someone decided to eavesdrop on what's happening in Room 201-]

AQUA EDGE!!

[or not. There's a loud clatter of armor being thrown through the door along with three discs of water and a shock of red. The room's occupant walks out shortly, dressed lightly and looking like he just got out of bed livid. The red head was shaking and, in his rage, walks over and kicks the helmet portion of the Papal Knight armor all the way down the hall. Those more accustomed to reading people might notice that it isn't just anger (though he's surprisingly good at hiding everything else underneath it). Waking up to the sight of that suit of armor with that fake head in it's hands was terrifying, more so than something he had no recollection of had the right to be]

...

[he spares a glance at the fake head, the broken armor and the ruined doorway of his room before briskly turning and walking off. He'll clean up later, when he's not horrified and sad and so, so upset]

[ooc: wherein Richter can't be happy and floor two should be glad he decided to stick to a low level spell and not something ridiculously overkill like Bloody Howling. 8|;;;; ]

[604 sits transfixed. He's out on the plane, in a chair, and stiffly hunched over. His face is twisted into a deep scowl; his teeth are practically bared. In his hands is a picture frame, though by now the glass has shattered, and the frame itself has warped. The words on it, taunting him in a manner he doesn't understand, remain. Written on the picture, not the glass.

The air crackles, and electricity arcs from one of his shoulders.]

You...

[Who? He knows them. Doesn't. He's not sure and the confusion that's settled in, nesting with the fury that has seized him. Truth be told, he's roiling with conflicting emotions, as in that sea of fury and confusion lurks terror. And he doesn't understand that either. Fury directed towards one man, terror... for? - he's not sure if it's for or from - the younger man.]

Who the FUCK are you?

[604 wants to kill one, protect the other from- he doesn't know. He growls lowly; his clenched teeth slip and bite into his tongue. 604 spits his own blood onto the floor without thinking.]

Does- doesn't matter. [He mutters to himself.] Touch him and you're dead. I'll rip you apart. I'll flay you alive.

[Thunder rolls and a downpour begins on the plane. 604 doesn't move, and continues to stare down at the picture.]

No, no, it doesn't mean any- anything. It's just a picture. Just- jesus.

[He wishes he understood why he was afraid.]