It doesn't take a genius--which is a good thing, because Leon isn't--to figure out what's going on here. This is another one of those messed-up CERES events that he's starting to get used to getting forced into, which he hates almost as much as he hates the things themselves. You're going about your day and suddenly you're in some weird-ass place with freaky aliens and you can't get out . . . or log out, in this case. Just as he'd gotten up the nerve to try ViViD again, too. What the hell?!
Leon hadn't had as much luck this time as usual with distraction tactics, either. A food fight around alien photographers is one thing; a delicate medical supply fight around alien doctors, uh, that had been a bad idea. A baaad idea. And so here he'd ended up, having flung himself into the first stairwell he'd made his way to and down the stairs, and even in the face of what he was running from, it hadn't taken more than a minute to realize that he'd made the wrong choice in escape routes.
Maybe you ended up in the basement too.
If you did, you won't be far from the stairs when it becomes obvious you're not alone in this freaky place. There's someone down here shouting at someone. His voice is raw and cracked, high-pitched with panic.]
Shut up, shut up, shut up, I know! I know, shut up! Fuck off! I know! I had to. I had to, get off my fuckin' case, it wasn't my fault! She came at me, man! She--just shut up, shut up, shut up!
[Maybe you get a look at what's going on:
Leon's fists are covered in blood, balled at his side, his shoulders hunched and shaking. And the person he's confronting--you can't make out what he's saying, but it appears to be . . . Leon. Well, kind of. The boy's around 15, and it is Leon, but he's changed a lot since then; one glance makes that obvious. The younger version is wearing a baseball uniform; his hair is buzzed very short, darker in color than Leon's bright dyed red-orange, and he's without piercings or a beard. Like so, except less, well, intense, and more . . . just standing there creepily, mumbling those words, again and again.
You killed them, you’re the murderer.
Leon's done taking swings at himself, though. He whirls around to make a run for the stairs. His face is chalky pale and contorted with panic, and now it's about a foot away from yours. Whoops.
He stumbles back a step. For a moment, the room's silent except for his quick, hard, hoarse breathing, and a little shocked noise rising from his throat because someone walked in on this.]
Hhh, n, ah, ahhhh . . . sh, shit . . .
Bonus: Seven Minutes in Doctor Heaven (where all your med school debt is forgiven)
[Some time before all of that, and before the ill-advised throwing around of medical supplies in one of the hospital rooms . . .
Leon's on his second attempt at dodging the doctors and nurses and finding a way out of here. A simpler time, to be sure. And like the other un-newbies, he's dressed up like a doctor, which is as close as he'll ever get in his life to a college education, so that's something, anyway.
You might be stumbling into a dark supply closet yourself in your search for an escape route, and ending up face to face with him. For the moment, you're both out of the way of things . . . but at what cost?]
Yo.
[He keeps his voice low. Well, low for him, anyway. It's not like he wants to draw attention in this direction. But that's not going to stop him from cracking dumbass jokes:]
You need a physical or somethin'? Ha ha ha . . . hic!
all ota, current character!
[Of course he ended up in the basement.
It doesn't take a genius--which is a good thing, because Leon isn't--to figure out what's going on here. This is another one of those messed-up CERES events that he's starting to get used to getting forced into, which he hates almost as much as he hates the things themselves. You're going about your day and suddenly you're in some weird-ass place with freaky aliens and you can't get out . . . or log out, in this case. Just as he'd gotten up the nerve to try ViViD again, too. What the hell?!
Leon hadn't had as much luck this time as usual with distraction tactics, either. A food fight around alien photographers is one thing; a delicate medical supply fight around alien doctors, uh, that had been a bad idea. A baaad idea. And so here he'd ended up, having flung himself into the first stairwell he'd made his way to and down the stairs, and even in the face of what he was running from, it hadn't taken more than a minute to realize that he'd made the wrong choice in escape routes.
Maybe you ended up in the basement too.
If you did, you won't be far from the stairs when it becomes obvious you're not alone in this freaky place. There's someone down here shouting at someone. His voice is raw and cracked, high-pitched with panic.]
Shut up, shut up, shut up, I know! I know, shut up! Fuck off! I know! I had to. I had to, get off my fuckin' case, it wasn't my fault! She came at me, man! She--just shut up, shut up, shut up!
[Maybe you get a look at what's going on:
Leon's fists are covered in blood, balled at his side, his shoulders hunched and shaking. And the person he's confronting--you can't make out what he's saying, but it appears to be . . . Leon. Well, kind of. The boy's around 15, and it is Leon, but he's changed a lot since then; one glance makes that obvious. The younger version is wearing a baseball uniform; his hair is buzzed very short, darker in color than Leon's bright dyed red-orange, and he's without piercings or a beard. Like so, except less, well, intense, and more . . . just standing there creepily, mumbling those words, again and again.
You killed them, you’re the murderer.
Leon's done taking swings at himself, though. He whirls around to make a run for the stairs. His face is chalky pale and contorted with panic, and now it's about a foot away from yours. Whoops.
He stumbles back a step. For a moment, the room's silent except for his quick, hard, hoarse breathing, and a little shocked noise rising from his throat because someone walked in on this.]
Hhh, n, ah, ahhhh . . . sh, shit . . .
Bonus: Seven Minutes in Doctor Heaven (where all your med school debt is forgiven)
[Some time before all of that, and before the ill-advised throwing around of medical supplies in one of the hospital rooms . . .
Leon's on his second attempt at dodging the doctors and nurses and finding a way out of here. A simpler time, to be sure. And like the other un-newbies, he's dressed up like a doctor, which is as close as he'll ever get in his life to a college education, so that's something, anyway.
You might be stumbling into a dark supply closet yourself in your search for an escape route, and ending up face to face with him. For the moment, you're both out of the way of things . . . but at what cost?]
Yo.
[He keeps his voice low. Well, low for him, anyway. It's not like he wants to draw attention in this direction. But that's not going to stop him from cracking dumbass jokes:]
You need a physical or somethin'? Ha ha ha . . . hic!
[If only he could stop this instead.]
Shit, hic! Hic! I swear it ain't my fault! Hic!