Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Trick or Treat: The Doctor's Abode

Well, this is rare. Not Halloween. That's quite standard, in fact. No, the fact that the plague doctor has opted to participate in the festivities this year is out of the ordinary. He's often busy and far too preoccupied with his duties, but this year has presented the unique opportunity of an abundance of free time.

The day was largely spent procuring supplies, from decorations to confections and pastries. Some of the items used for the purpose of decor were made by his own hand with what creative energy he could muster, and the rest were purchased from local crafters. The sweets and treats were all purchased from local businesses; the doctor lacks any talent for the art of cooking and the risk of disaster is too great on a night when he isn't looking to do harm. There's always tomorrow.

Now, with the sun going down and the sky painted in the colors of dusk, his efforts have all come together. His home which doubles as an occasional office is decorated inside and out. The windows and walkways leading up are alight with candles. The hedges are inlaid with strands of silk to mimic spider webs. There are pumpkins on the lawn along with wooden coffins and grave markers. Above the entryway to his home itself hangs a lantern and a sign bidding welcome, and stepping through will find one in a cozy enough room that seems to serve as a living room. A fire burns in the hearth and even more decorations are strewn around. There are more candles, faux webs and paper ghosts, as well as shelves with what look like medicine bottles, jars and even a few skulls; some of the latter may or may not be real.

Jaques himself is perched by the fire. The doctor makes for a rather intimidating figure, dressed all in black, and with that beaked mask that has spawned many tales of doom and gloom; and not all are tales, are they? The flickering flames cast his shadow across the floor and walls and it adds a bit of extra mystery and, perhaps even fear, to the atmosphere.

Now, he need only wait. Will any truly venture into the den of a plague doctor?

Voítheia ventured into the den, though he was absolutely terrified, he attempted to for once face his fears. His fears? Well, just about everything since.. well, that's a story for another day.

Voítheia was dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, he wore a red cloak, held a basket, and his nose was bleeding.

The blood was fake, right?
(Actually, wait a minute, no, that was real blood..)

Upon approaching the living room, he noticed Jaques near the fire. Voítheia hesitated to step closer, especially seeing the beaked mask, but he did so anyway, despite his subtle hand shaking. "Trick..trick or treat.." The boy's voice was barely above a whisper and sounded scared.

His attention is drawn from the depths of his thoughts at the sound of his voice. The fire dances along the sharper points of his beak mask as he turns his head to assess the young man. His eyes drift down to the blood, almost imperceptible aside from the way his head tips down ever so slightly.

He is, in a word, surprised, and pleased. Someone actually took the invitation.

Jaques rises from his perch. "Happy Halloween." His voice sounds deep and almost raspy from where it emanates from beneath the mask. It's rather eerie, which is fitting for the occasion and atmosphere. Upon a nearby table there there rests a bowl filled with colorful candies and a large tray of festively decorated pastries. "Help yourself." He pauses, and then his head cocks. "And if you need assistance..." He gestures Voítheia's bloody nose. "I have the means."

Voítheia stepped back one step as Jaques stood up, but did not flee.

Voítheia looked to the table, nodding and approaching it. He took a small handful of candy and gently placed it in his basket, and gently took one pastry that was decorated like a ghost. Voítheia looked to Jacques, "Wh— oh, my nose?" He stuttered, "It's.. it's fine.. It just happens." Voítheia said shyly, before taking a soft bite out of the pastry, it was sweet.

"A handkerchief would be nice though, if, if you have one.." Voítheia added.

"It just happens? This is something you have been living with for a time? Hm." It isn't his business. He's aware of that. He can't help the urge to question, however. It's what he does. He is still a doctor, even if his morals have long since shifted; he sometimes helps others.

"Wait here, and feel free to enjoy more treats."

The man crosses the room and vanishes through a nearby door. It doesn't close fully, leaving just a brief glimpse into the room beyond: a place for treatment, by the looks of it, and all of the associated supplies, plus god only knows what else in a variety of bottles and vials. There isn't much time to think on it before he emerges again, and the room is closed off from view.

Jaques once again approaches the young man and holds out the handkerchief for him. "You can keep it. You know, just in case this happens again tonight."

Voítheia took another bite of the pastry, "Well, for about half a year.. yes.." Voítheia noted.

As Jaques asked, he waited there, still eating on the pastry he had grabbed about a minute ago. Voítheia couldn't help but be nosy, looking into the gap in the door that didn't close fully, seeing the glimpse of the room. It was very interesting, but just as Voítheia formed a thought about it, he lost it as Jaques came back out of it.

Voítheia finished the pastry, then gently took the handkerchief, putting it to his nose, staining the white fabric with red. "Thank.. thank you, sir. I appreciate it." Voítheia said, nodding as thank you. "Oh, um! I should probably get going, it's not safe to stay out too late.. A lot of.. bad people live in the city I come from.." The boy stuttered.

Voítheia grabbed another pastry, glancing at Jaques briefly as if asking it was okay to take another, to have a snack as he traveled back to the city.

The doctor straightens once the handkerchief has been handed off. He did hear what the boy said earlier, though it may have come off otherwise. "This is something that should be checked, given the length of time that it has been happening. For your safety, of course. You do seem quite young for such symptoms." In his heart, he knows that isn't true. Ailments, no matter where and how they come to be, rarely discriminate. The plague, and all outbreaks that followed after, have taught that lesson time and again.

He cocks his head, a slight smile hidden behind the mask. "No, I understand. The streets at night are filled with many unsavory individuals. You are wise not to stay out too long. He takes a step back, but not before gesturing toward the table of treats, a signal to the boy that he's well within his rights to take more, as much as he wants, if he desires. It'd be a shame to see all of these sweets go to waste.

"I wish you a safe journey home."

A fellow tall and imposing figure comes to call on the plague doctor next. This one is not just tall, but distended, the limbs and fingers thin and elongated as if they had been stretched by some nightmare. Atop that spindly, black robed frame, is a horror of a face, almost just a squid perched on the shoulders with huge, milky eyes. It stoops slightly as it glides under the lintel, drifting to a stop with the door still open behind it.

Trick or treat it seems to say, though no voice is actually heard, and the words themselves arrive in the brain without any of the normal social clues like hints of gender or tone.

This night is meant to be one of supernatural and mystery, and while the doctor believes in such things, is such a thing, he'd never expected this night to be anything other than mundane, a passage of time and the dispensing of an occasional treat.

How wrong he was.

He spends several long moments regarding his new visitor. Most, he's sure, would be gripped by fear. He's taken by fascination. No voice, no words, and yet he seems to understand. He turns, making a sweeping gesture toward the table with treats. He does briefly pause, almost reconsidering, before he cocks his head. "As you please. Unless sweets are not to your delight, in which I believe we can find an alternative."

There is a faint ripple through the tentacles. It had come resigned to the bounds of this strange tradition, the acquisition of useless sugar... but was there something more valuable that this house could offer?

What alternative? there's an edge of interest, a not so savory interest, to the impression of a voice this time.

What, indeed. He hadn't thought that far, exactly. It was, after all, a feeling more than a rational thought. An instinct, almost. He, it seems, is not yet fully accustomed nor resigned to this tradition of passing out sweet things. Until now there were always better things to do, his nights too busy to partake in something so simple.

Jaques, at least, is an intelligent man. Creative, as well, according to some.

"I have tinctures and remedies. Crafting components. Books and scrolls, some of which are quite old." The Doctor makes his way to the slightly ajar door, nudging it open. His office is just beyond the threshold, and a makeshift examination room is just beyond. It holds the things offered, and so much more.

It was just as well the front yard was left momentarily unattended. Like the shadow of some great leviathan passing overhead, the great candlelit walkway outside was filled, however briefly, with a presence. Something vast, terrible and ancient passed through, something beyond the senses of vision or touch. But with its passing, it left something—the sound of rusted door closing, and a tall, dark figure.

The visitor was dressed in dark, trailing robes, adorned at the collar with a thick mane of feathers as black and opalescent as an oil slick. Their face was obscured by what looked like a skull of a monstrous bird, its wickedly sharp beak dipped in silver, hiding all but the enormous whites of the visitor's eyes beneath.

Somewhat undercutting this unsettling effect was the bright orange jack-o-lantern pail clutched in the figure's ring-laden hand.

After a bit of dawdling on the yard, peeking here and there at the spooky decorations, the ponderous bird-man arrived at the threshold. He could hear the murmuring of at least one voice within, though he could have sworn there were two figures moving about... how curious!

“Ahh... trick or treat!” came a polite, well-practiced voice behind the skull. A wispy little giggle followed—apparently, the bird-man was quite pleased with his performance. “Hello! Shall I let myself in?”

The creature rotates slightly to face the newly ajar door. The rotation is unnaturally smooth, too perfect to have been done by feet. It hovers like a ghost.

Yesss. Books will do.

Silently, it glides across the room and through the door, disappearing inside just in time to be out of the way of the new trick or treater.

"Erm.... Trick or treat?"
The little adolescent was dressed as a ghost, with a face full of rhinestones and teardrops made of paper. Their bucket was a pumpkin, and their little shoes were the usual pointy ones. They were really hoping for chocolate. What better place to go for spooky delicious treats than... a plague doctor's house?

Perhaps his eyes deceived him? One figure or two—on the whole, it did not matter especially. While curiosity tugged him in one direction, so too did his apprehension, like an insistent child pulling at his shirtsleeve. A nagging little fear told him that he ought to be elsewhere—a stranger could talk to him, after all, and then what would he do with his hands? What if someone said his costume was silly, or asked him about literally ANYTHING besides bones? What would he say?

As seconds ticked by, the unblinking eyes beneath the bird skull mask somehow grew wider, and the tall figure made a small, nervous sound like air being let out of a balloon. Slowly, he receded from the doorway. "N-nevermind~" the wispy voice amended pleasantly.

With another tiny yelp, the tall figure bustled past the next prospective trick-or-treater. An instant later he vanished, accompanied, however faintly, by the sound of a closing door.

Ah well. He supposed there was always next year~