Discord: Crying Wolf RP

[Act 1, Scene 1]
And so it begins...

Snow and ice peppered the canopy, frozen shrapnel, beating a steady rhythm on the jet's hull. The pilot slouched in his chair snoring, the plane soaring through the swirling blizzard. Sebastien Delacroix wiped his hands against his white suit before re-grabbing the copilot's control stick. It was only just three o'clock, they were making good time. Delacroix flicked a switch on the dashboard. A screen flashed static before resolving into his jet's passenger compartment. His assistant sat typing away, occasionally twitching as Delacroix's two "special passengers" made outbursts.

Sitting across from each other in the compartment were Riley Rivera and Heath Hackett chatting. Delacroix re-focused his attention on flying the jet, glanced at his Rolex. 3:01PM. He massaged his temples. Perhaps it was time to accommodate his guests...?

Note from the Puppet Master:

Riley was bored, he started staring to the other guys in the jet.
He took a sip to his glass of water and decide to break the silence. "Where are the hot stewardess? This is making me sexy." Riley said.
"Also I forgot to ask, who are you guys? I mean you know who I am, who doesn't?" Being humble isn't another of his strenghts.
"Well for everyone that doesn't know me I am sexiness come to life, Riley Rivera!" Then he pour his glass of water on himself.
"With me no one is going to feel the cold."

Heath looked up when Riley asked who they all were.
"I'm Heath Hackett," he said, sounding like the most American American ever, "but you probably already knew that. You may have seen me in the movie 'The Patriot'. It did really awesome, from what my agent tells me."
He smiled an arrogant smile, and then continued talking.
"Riley Rivera?" Heath asked. "That's new to me. If you're not from the best country ever, America, that's probably why, though. Only Americans matter anyways. And hey, pilot dude, who are you?"

Delacroix's assistant continued typing away at her laptop without turning to face them. "Mr. Croix is currently preoccupied, but I'm sure he would be willing to entertain any questions at a later time. For now, I would ask you direct your questions to me rather than Croix Corp's president, valued guests," she began, still not bothering to make eye contact.

"Aww, come on," Heath complained. "I'd at least like to talk to the guy that's flying me around right now."
Heath smiled his traditional smile towards the assistant.

Assistant's eyes flickered up for a moment, catching a dazzled glare shining off Heath's shades. She blinked, resumed typing. "I'm sure Mr. Croix would be more than happy to accommodate your request. In the meantime, perhaps you'd be interested in some refreshments," she said before glancing at a drenched Riley, her cheeks  reddening. "To ah, drink, that is."

With a curt clap, the passenger compartment's back doors slid back. A trio identical twins with burgundy waistcoats and violet hair entered, pushing several carts trayed with cakes and wine spirits. Two attended to Heath and Riley, silently presenting their lavish drinks and desserts. The third whispered into Assistant's ear. She raised an eyebrow at him before massaging her temples. "Very well, but quickly."

He half-bowed to the assistant before walking to the front and keying in the cockpit's access code, then closed the door behind him.

Bastiene Croix walked out the cockpit with a slight irritated look on his face. ''I can introduce myself now, but it needs to be quick. I have a business deal to finish, ok?'' Croix said. ''I'm Sebstiene Delacroix. I'm one of the richest and powerfull persons in the world. Now I need to return to finish the business deal. Don't interrupt me next time asking another stupid question.'' Delacroix walked back into the cockpit.

Heath stood slightly stunned. There was a moment of silence before he said, "Was it really a stupid question? I felt that was justified. I mean, my life is pretty much in his hands right now, so..." Heath trailed off, then sat back down in his seat.

The assistant simply continued typing as the door slammed shut. "Don't mistake Mr. Croix's words for hostility. Matters have simply been overwhelming as of late. At any rate, it shouldn't take much longer for our arrival. If there's anything else you'd like to do here, I would suggest haste."

Note from the Puppet Master:

[Act 1, Scene 2]
Speeding things along...

Snowflakes fluttered with the wind as the churning ocean waves splashed against stone piers. Atop them stood the steel suspension bridge caked with snow as a train sped across the bridge's railings. Two gold C's hooked together marked each train car--the symbol for Croix Corp.

Inside the luxury train car, eight individuals milled about. Some making small talk about the weather or other passengers, some preferring the company of the back of the compartment or their computer. Outside the window, it has begun to come into view. Wyvern Coast, the private island owned by one Alister Faust.

But the passengers seem too enthralled in their own devices or conversations to notice...

Note from the Puppet Master:

Yuki was starring his Yu-Gi-Oh cards , like as usual . He was staring at them since the travel begun . He haven't dropped a word till the beginning . Suddenly he checked what happens outside and saw the Wyvern Coast , he grabbed her sister by the shirt , pointed the Coast with his finger and shrugged , like to ask her what it is .

Ashley stopped playing on her DS and looked outside. '' Its a island ,isn't it Utsukushii? '' Ashley said as she started playing on her DS agian.

Triss C. Graham, scribbled a quick description of the setting around her. After another quick glance, she noticed their destination was visible. "Hmm, I suppose we're almost there. Wyvern coast, what a name. Almost at the destination and I haven't bothered to introduce myself to anybody", she muttered to herself. Triss looked around at the other passengers. "Perhaps it's better if it stays that way."

"I say, the bint has run off again!" Jasper Felix Bonde grumbled into his tape recorder, unconsciously smoothing his white mustache. "Just keep an eye out for the girl, he says. Keep her out of trouble and bob's your uncle, he says. Well he bloody well isn't my uncle right now!"

Some eyes glanced toward his way. Jasper coughed. lowering his fedora. "Note to self: keep the voice down, eh? Still, perhaps my observational skills need work if I've up and lost the girl. 'How hard is it to keep track of someone like that', I hear myself saying days from now. To which my response would be--I say, do I smell cookies?"

The train compartment's door slid back, a trio with matching brown waistcoats and purple hair strolled through. The lead bowed before presenting a sign: Attention, invitees. The refreshment cabin has been made available.

He then flipped the sign: Mr. Faust would like to have a word before your arrival, valued guests. That is all.

The left triplet whispered into the lead's ear, followed by the right's whispers. The lead pulled a sharpie from his pocket, scribbling onto the sign.

Also, we have cake and cookies. That is all.

Vasily Keller was quite confused by the oddity that had just unfolded, though it was a breath of fresh air as he was bored out of his mind. He had read the only book he had brought with him arround seven times during the journey and his traveling companion, Joey Hayter, had been trying to hit up the writer, who sat nearby. So he was eager to do something more interesting, he however waited for a few other passangers to exit the train car, as not to seem too eager.

[Act 2, Scene 1]
After a short vacation, time to check back in on House Winter's invitees...

Flecks of dust quivered in the light beaming through maroon curtains. Howling can be heard from the winds ushering in constant waves of snow against the windows. On the wood-paneled floor, a trail of smeared blood leads to a hunched over figure. Crimson stains matte the butler's violet hair, turned his burgundy vest a slick black. He scuffles backward while dragging a limp body with him. The whole of his face covered in that same red liquid.

Joey Hayter's left eye battered open, taking in the darkly lit corridor. His eye lazed around spotting a portrait: a railed bridgeway leading up to a snowy island, the grand mansion looming beside the mountain. His focus blurred and a face-splitting ache hammered into his cheek. The man raised a hand to his face, but nothing moved. Blinking his left eye, the haze began to dissipate. A path of blood was following his lame legs as he was pulled across the floor. His slurred mouth struggled open; Joey asked, "Wha... What's happenin'... ta me?"

A note card held by a black gloved hand leveled in front of his face: Attention, valued guest. We are I am pulling you to safety. Please remain calm. That is all. Withdrawing the card from view, the individual continued to pull Joey.

As the hand fell from sight, the blood trail came back into view. It wouldn't stop following him. "Is that... is that m-"

A bowling balll sized lump welled up in his stomach. He gaggged, hacked out red phlegm, and blacked out.
---------
Joey's eyes snapped open, his body lurching upright as he wheezed panicky breaths. Something was covering his eyes and he tore it off. A taped on note card. Attention, valued guest, it read. I'm sure you have several questions, such as but not limited to: "Where are the refreshments, is Mr. Faust available, weren't there three of you, and why is there blood everywhere?" Remain calm. I am preparing drinks, presently. That is all.

Joey snorted. "What is this ga'bage? What ta hell's goin' on?"

Sitting further up, he braced his back against the wall--no, the back of a couch?--and looked around. Across from him was another white velvet couch, semi-stained pink, holding a sleeping kid with silver hair. Resting along the couch's arm was a wheelchair-ed girl wearing funny-looking yellow ears. Behind them were several others, all just staring out the window. Joey tried sitting higher up to see the commotion, when a bell chimed. Standing in the open doorway of a double-door, the violet haired butler clipped the hand bell to his belt while dabbing at a small speck on his pristine waistcoat. Looking away from his attire, the man realized everyone was staring at him. He cleared his throat, then reached behind the door and pulled out a poster board with scribbled sharpie.

Attention, valued guests. The tea has been prepared. Also, it seems the train most of you were arriving on had a technical difficulty. And exploded. Remain calm. Only two of you were killed in the blast: Mr. Bonde and Ms. Hatake. Additionally, the early comers arriving by Mr. Delacroix's jet. Technical difficulties. We hesitate to use the word sabotage, but the plane's crash did result in the bridgeway's explosion. Unfortunately, celebrities Mr. Hackett and Mr. Rivera were the only survivors there.

Replacing the board behind the wall, he propped another onto a bookshelf and approached Joey with a jug of tea and empty glasses. The following was written: I hope you enjoy the tea. Also, the former message should have clarified any questions. If not, please submit an inquiry to the House Winter staff--presently, this is just me--and we will try to answer you as soon as possible. Please remain calm. That is all. Also, please call me Butler Drei.

Note from the Puppet Master:

*Joey Hayter enters the building*
Joey Hayter's mind: "a lot of these people around these parts are worse than the people in Brooklyn but I do hope I can find a kitchen in this place to try some new recipes that I have learned."

Butler Drei gently sets the glass of iced tea on the side table to Mr. Hayter's right, while thinking: "A lot of the people invited by Master Faust seem quite extraordinary. Not even explosions, extensive blood loss, or watching a comrade--I assume they are all friends--get crushed in front of you fazes them. What resilient people."

He leaves a notecard next to the drink, as well. Attention, valued chef. Despite recent circumstances, I hope you are still interested in preparing Master Faust's birthday cake. Should you desire to get acquanted with the kitchen, please inform me. Or simply exit the parlor, take a right, and enter the second door on the left to find the kitchen's back entrance. That is all.

Drei continues to serve tea to the guests, when his eyebrow twitches. There was still a drop of blood on Mr. Knight's sleeve. He gulps. Perhaps they wouldn't notice his gross lack of professional courtesy if he continued serving drinks. If only Eins and Zwei weren't horrifically slaughtered by Mr. Delacroix's jet. Oh well.

Attention, valued guests, Drei continued by handing out note cards to everyone, As the recent events may have traumatized some of you, I hope you will enjoy the tea. Furthermore, psychological--and physical--damage is not an impossibility. Remain calm. I am not a doctor.

To assess your mental state, we will begin Introductions. If you can recall your own name and purpose for being here, progress has been made. If not, I am afraid dinner will be postponed. Additionally, That is all.

Heath sat, staring out the window, clearly in deep thought.
'I said his life was in my hands, didn't I? Was he trying to kill me and Riley Rev-whoever? Well, I guess if he was, he did a pretty crap job at it, so it's probably best not to worry about it.'
He lifted his small glass and took a light sip from it. He immediately spit the liquid out in disgust.
"Tea..." he muttered to himself.
He sat in silence for a moment before turning to see the rest of the group.
He stood up, and announced, "Well, since we all nearly died today, I think it's best we take a break from life. I mean, that was a pretty traumatiz-uhh...bad thing that happened, so I think y'all earned some sleep. But maybe we should introduce our selves first. I'm Heath Hackett, but I bet you already knew that. I'm a popular movie star from the best of countries, the good ol' US of A." Heath points to his American flag bandanna and smirks.
"I would say I'm happy to meet y'all, but I think the REAL introductions should happen tomorrow, when we all recover from nearly dying. Until then, though!" Heath smiles his trademark smile, and heads back to where he was sitting. Heath then raised his hand.
"Heyo mister waiter guy. Drei or whatever. Do you have any American drinks, like Apple Cider or something not from the Brits?"

Butler Drei hands Heath an opaque red glass filled with a clear liquid. You seem to be of good health, Mr. Hackett. Thank you for sharing, the accompanied card read.

Drei stands with hands clasped behind his back, waiting for the other guests' various actions, be it: commenting on drinks, introducing themselves, or falling unconscious.

Triss smirked as she furiously scribbled into her notebook. She looked up from her notes to notice butler Drei waiting. Thinking back to the scraps of her surroundings she had barely picked up while writing, she realised that people were to give introductions. She stood up and cleared her throat. "Well, since no one else cares to, I suppose I shall introduce myself." She adjusted her glasses and continued "I am Triss C. Graham. Pleasure to meet you all this wonderful evening." She briefly smiled, "I am a novelist though I, hmm, dabble in medicine" carefully avoiding proclaiming herself the resident doctor. "I hope I cau- uh don't cause too much trouble during my stay." She straightens her button-up, hoping to draw attention away from her blunder. "Oh yes! The drinks were also quite nice, thank you" she finishes and returns to her seat.

Drei bows in thanks to Graham. Unfortunately, he notes, no one else seems to be ready for introductions. Perhaps there was cause for concern after all.

Attention, valued guests. Anyone still capable of speaking and or moving, please do so. In order to determine your mental and physical statuses, you must do this much. Otherwise I fear your colleagues may label you as... handicapped.That is all.