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The Lounge

Turning the handle cautiously, Fig opened the door slowly peering inside as the view came to him. It was empty. He walked in slowly, closing the door after him. He took a seat on one of the leather sofas, gazing about the new and unfamiliar room, as his hand reached inside of his cloak, fumbling slightly for a small box of cigarettes and a matchbook. He withdrew a cigarette from its package, placing it between his lips, placing the small package upon the coffee table, as he pulled a match from the small book, and struck it against the back. The small match tip came to life with a small flame, as Fig lifted it to the cigarette placed loosely between his lips, inhaling as he lit the tip. He fanned the match out, with several quick movements of his wrist and discarded it into an ashtrey upon the coffee table. Fig gazed about curiously once more, as he sat back against the sofa, as he experienced the small high that the processed tobacco supposably caused.

Fig quirked a brow in surprise as he heard his name and a familiar voice. He smiled as his gaze fell upon Archer, " Ah, hello Archer. You startled me there for a second." He chuckled softly as he leaned forward clicking his ashes into the tray set upon the small table, next to his matchbook and cigarette package, before him.

Leaning back he placed the cigarette between his lips loosely once more as he inhaled the smoke of the cancerous tobcacco once more. "So Archer, How are you doin? I haven't seen you in quite a while." He said, his tone calm and collective, yet with an added rasp to it becasue of his smoking habit. He exhaled the smoke softly, partly from both mouth and nostrils.

He smiled slightly at his friends good news, " Ah, congratulations."He took another puff of the frail cigarette before replying, "I'm quite fine." he noddded to himself with his reply. He pondered softly, " Is there something wrong; You didnt seem very happy about you're promotion?" He cquirked a brow curiously, his gaze falling upon Archer once more after flicking his ashes into the ash tray.

Fig paused in shock, his cigarette held only centimeters from his lips. He pondered about it as the silence set in momentarily before he averted his gaze elsewhere," Like, do you mean.. murdered or? When did it happen?" His voice had become a much lower, curious tone. He set the cigarette into the ash tray extinguishing the little tobacco that remained.

He quirked abrow at the words as they were spoken, " Do you mean, this happened earlier in the mansion?" He gazed upon Archer curiously, the entire subject driving him to withdraw another cigarette and match from their homes, as he lit up and began inhling the toxic fumes once more. He paused after several puffs, exhaling a large cloud of smoke, "... Do you have any suspects to who may have done it." He said behind shifty eyes. The subject was causing him to become paranoid, which did not mix well with the alcohol that had previously entered his system.

"..Why would they suspect you?" Fig pondered Archer's words, studying his expression. This bit did not help his paranoia. He inhaled deeply as he laced the cigarette between his lips then sighed softly. The subkect was giving him a headache. he reached slowly into his pocket and pulled from it a small labelless bottle. His hands were shaking softly, casuing him tofumble witht he childproof lid. Finally he opened it and dropped two pills from it into his hand and quickly tossed them into his mouth, as he placed the bottle back into his pocket, somewhat secretively. He puffed at the cigarette once more and sat back in his seat awaiting the effects of the pills, taking no note of the lingering silence.

"Well only one person thinks I am the murderer, and she tried to kill me, but that is through. I was with Bristi when we heard the guy die, and then I got blood on my hand from a knife I held, and all the handkerchiefs I brought with me had weird looking dry blood on it." He made a big puff of cigar smoke. "I honestly don't know who did, it, orhow my handkerchiefs got bloodied."