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It felt like there was so little time to react--a disgruntled voice, the dull clunk of something on plastic, and then the mannequins were up and moving, past Lily and towards some poor, vocal soul. She watched, silently stunned, as something happened, and when they moved away Lily couldn't avoid looking at the expanse of plastic-like flesh where the man's eyes should have been.

"What the ********," she breathed to herself, but despite her horror she couldn't help but stand and walk her way closer, hovering around Temperance's workspace with a wide-eyed stare. "Is he...is he stuck like that?" Lily knew better than to assume permanence in a place such as this, given her condition, but to her credit she'd never heard of a were-mannequin before, and the full moon was still another day away.

She nodded in vague agreement with Shun's proclamation, but her stomach would not stop turning as she looked at the blank half of Connor's face. There was nothing she could do but avert her eyes, and she concentrated on the ceiling again to see how it had changed.

Sudden what??? And he wasn't supposed to panic??

"Are you actually ******** serious right now?" He responded, a certain edge coming to his tone that indicated his cool and careful calm was on the verge of shattering at any moment. He was about to reach up and feel for himself what the hell she was talking about, when a warm hand pushed against the area where his eyes should have been. Initially, he flinched back, but when he realized who it was and what they were doing, he succumbed to her instruction and attempted to do as he was told.

Except that he couldn't. There was nothing for him to roll, and therefore the motion he attempted was impossible.

Nervousness began to grip him more tightly, then, and as the screen began to show what had occurred, Connor could only listen and piece together what it was everybody was watching, while also being able to quite clearly hear the response that Juniper and Shun both had.

A surge of irritation broke through the panic, and he clung to it like a life line, his lip curling up in a sneer. "Oh sure, sweetheart, worry about your precious ******** snack. All I did was put my feet up on the chair, and my foot just happened to accidentally hit the dummy." Puppet. Mannequin. Whatever it was, he honestly hadn't kicked it with any malicious intent.

When Temp scraped her nail across his new plastic skin, he jerked back. "Ow." he complained, and reached up to push her hands away. "Enough. Stop."

A deep breath was taken, and carefully Connor reached up to feel his newly modified face for the first time himself, unsure of what to expect but not at all prepared for the absolutely smooth feeling that his fingers encountered.

"s**t." He hissed. "s**t." Louder this time, his voice back on edge, on the very brink. "Jesus titty ********, I'm sorry, okay? Seriously, I just..." A pause, a deep, shaking breath. "I didn't mean any ******** harm, alright?" He sat further forward, closer to the mannequin that was in front of him, though he had no idea how close it was or even how broken it now appeared.

In the back of his mind, Connor held on to the false knowledge that this was crazy too crazy to be real. It was too strange, too surreal, to possibly be happening. No, instead this was some messed up prank, or some really ******** up high, or a really, really ******** up dream....

The rest of him seemed to feel differently, however, when everything was so vividly authentic, and the rest of him was on the verge of that meltdown that he was previously much too strong for.

the semblance of unity

blade kuroda

kolina

ashdown whaler

just for his apology, in case it has any affect XD

Al had seated himself towards the very back of the theater, right smack in the center row where he liked it. He watched the group's interactions with the mannequins as though the whole thing was all just apart of the show. As soon as tbe popcorn vanished and the smell had abruptly dissipated, Al had finally found himself wishing for something to munch on now that things were finally starting. Wishing much too late, by the looks of it.

The lights dimmed, and he shifted his focus from the man with no eyes, to the screen. His hands were still fisted in his lap. He was ready for this damned thing to just begin already, because they were obviously being shown something that someone wanted them to see.

Or he'd had too much to drink and this was some nightmarish concoction of his own drunken mind- in which case, might as well see it through to the end; just like he always did.

Acacia's life had changed so rapidly and it was in for another change. Her dreams, not just that of the horror of her bakery burning to the ground, were also filled with the dreary, rainy, empty streets of Ashdown.

This day she would be looking over the burnt remains of her bakery, fingers pressed against the wood and soot covering them, as she crossed through the doorway.

It had been one of the only pieces of the place that seemed to truly stand. Except that today, as she went through it, her world would spin. Her vision swims and, when she blinks again, Acacia would find herself in a theatre in an aisle. There were already other people seated and faceless mannequins there as well.

A screen was down on the stage, a show about to start.

Soot still covered her fingers.

Shun narrowed his eyes as the screen flickered and went ahead to show some rather familiar faces. He still suspected that this was about the foot.

But what if there was some chance that this was happening live? He wouldn't put it past Other Ashdown to pull something like that.

He observed the area around the group on screen, to try and recognize their location.

It was a forest.

It was Rider-Waite State Park.

The ground was muddy as they trudged through it. Several of them looked scared. There was no way to tell that if it was current or not but Jeremiah Mercer did, in fact, have two black eyes and a bandage across his nose.

The clouds got darker, but it seemed there was no rain. With that observation, Lily took to her seat again, giving the mannequins a wide berth as she watched events unfold on the screen. Several faces she recognized, but one in particular gave her pause.

"Man, Mercer looks <********>," she softly commented to the assembly. She had a realization, then turned towards the general group, seeking out Shun. She remembered him with Mercer at Blackfriar's, maybe he could help.

"Any chance you have your walkie talkie with you, Officer Smiles?" She tried to get a look at his belt, but it was difficult in the dim light to make out. "It'd be a fast way to test the magical livestream theory."

The scene continues and the group comes to a clearing. Something is on the ground and they stop as it is noticed.

There is no sound of voices, even though mouths are moving, just the rain through the leaves.

The radio emitted a burst of static, followed by some heavily garbled voices that gradually resolved themselves, finally becoming clear as a young woman in a hijab approached the object.

"What is it?" It was Chris Watts, a tall blonde young man who spoke next, watching warily. He was sticking close to another young woman, Autumn Smith.

With it covered in dirt and detritus it was hard to tell just what the object in the hijab wearing woman's hand was.

"Go ahead and clean it up! See what it is." Mercer was speaking as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tossed it her way. Not even two steps forward, Mixlin hooked a finger into a back belt-loop and tugged him backwards to prevent him from advancing.

The young woman caught the handkerchief and used it to brush away the dirt. It is a bloody foot.

"Ya rab!" She screamed and tossed it towards Mercer.