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Rise of Evil (Joseph Taft)

Doctor Agnusdei

The Good Doctor
Writer
A lone figure sat in the pitch black of the room. No outline was visible and the silence was deafening. There was no movement. No shifting of cloth or shuffling of feet. No susurration of breath. The air was still and dead.

Suddenly, a small light flickered it's way through the blackness. The meager glow barely registered in the darkness. Outlines still failed to form and the dark seemed to swallow the light as if ravenous for sustenance. The dim beam shifted, though whether the source or the blackness moved, none could tell. The light began to reflect from something within the room, though the light grew no stronger. Twin orbs slowly began to light up, reflecting the pale, dim, white light off their mirrored surfaces. Were any to look on, it would appear as if some nocturnal creature stalked the dark, waiting and watching, though none knew why.

But the creature knew. It knew exactly what it had come for and why. I came for one thing, and one thing only. The being it sought. For this reason it sat alone in the dark. Waiting. Waiting in a graveyard silence. Waiting for who it sought to arrive. To come to the blackness and find the creature waiting for it. And when it arrived, it would realize. It would realize what was waiting for it and nothing could save it then.

Nothing in the galaxy would save @[member="Joseph Taft"] from the creature that waited oh so patiently, oh so silently, for him to come home.

And when he did come home. When he did open his door to bring light to the black.

He would find only Agnusdei, waiting ever so silently, ever so patiently, for him to come home...
 

Joseph Taft

Character
Character
Joseph slowly made his way through the lit corridor leaning against the walls, his body constantly wobbling left and right as he put one foot in front of the other, trying not to trip himself over as he walked. He gripped tightly in his left hand a bottle of whiskey, quickly taking another chug of its contents and wiping the his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket every so often. All he could think of was that it was another night of heavy drinking, another night with little entertainment as he brushed shoulders with a man walking at a brisk pace, sending him flailing forward a few feet, spilling his drink on the the metal floor while and moving his arms sporadically, trying to maintain his balance, managing in the end to land on both feet and stabilize himself.

He turned around, slurring gibberish at the man as he ignored him and continued on his path, head held low and pretending not to hear him. Muttering under his breath, he took another swing of his drink and turned around again, walking as best as he could through the hallway and taking the next corner. Soon enough he managed to find himself in front of the door of his apartment, smelling the familiar stench of nicotine, unwashed clothing, and crap from behind the rusted metallic door as he fiddled with his pockets searching for his key card.

Passing it through the lock, the doors quickly opened with a creak, as he took another swing of his drink and extended his arms to the side, spilling some more of the drink on the floor. "Honeeeeeey, I'm hoooome!" He slurred in the darkness in front of him, not expecting any response as he took a few steps past the door frame.
 

Doctor Agnusdei

The Good Doctor
Writer
"So I see," a clipped voice said, emanating from the pair of glowing orbs. A slight push in the Force and the door creaked to a shut, allowing the light to flee from the dark, sending the room back into blackness. Another tug in the Force and the sole working light flickered on, the dim light playing across the walls and furniture from the corner of the room.

Agnusdei had not moved. He still sat politely and quietly on a dirty and torn couch as he had done since he had arrived. His cane lay propped up against his crossed legs and his cloak lay neatly folded in his lap. His black clothing seemed to absorb the meager lighting in the room and his wide-brimmed hat cast the upper half of his white, long-beaked mask in shadow. The twin orbs of his lenses continued to glow as if alive on their own accord. The good doctor slowly gestured with a black gloved hand to the filthy chair across from the couch he sat upon.

"Please, take a seat Mister Taft. We have much to... discuss," Agnusdei stated, his tone proper, clipped, and precise.

@[member="Joseph Taft"]
 

Joseph Taft

Character
Character
The man stared with a vacant expression at the small pair of orbs emanating light that were only a few feet away from him, muttering gibberish as he scratched his beard with his free hand. When the dim bulb began lighting the room, he lazily turned his head around to look behind him, his body jumping slightly forward in surprise a few good seconds after the door loudly shut behind him. Staring back to where the orbs were, he could make out the silhouette of a man in a suit and with a mask through foggy and half closed eyes.

"Oh? Oh, oh! Ohohoho!" He grunted as a smile crept up on his lips, taking a few steps backwards while keeping his eyes fixed on his visitor, slamming the bottom of his bottle against the door and allowing the rest of the liquid to pour out as he created himself a makeshift weapon. "I didn't realize my birthday came so soon! And such a nice looking man she sent, Mother shouldn't had!" He spoke excitedly, unconsciously licking his lips and taking a cautious step forward, hungrily eying the man in front of him from head to toe. "Tell me lad, tell me! Tell me how much of a bleeder are you? Do you gush fountains or are you as arid as a desert?!"
 

Doctor Agnusdei

The Good Doctor
Writer
"Hmm... I knew you were deranged, but the liquor seems to have amplified the affliction, it seems," Agnusdei said as he thought aloud.

The black clad man did not move except to uncross and recross his legs. Only when he was satisfied once more, did Agnusdei address the inebriated man before him.

"Tell me, Mister Taft. That bottle of your favorite whiskey, the cheap knockoff of Corellian distilled malt manufactured on Tariss by the Terkiss Company for their Gold Label brand line. Did you remove the cheap foil top over the cap like a civilized person, or did you tear it off with your teeth as you are prone to doing when you've downed your usual amount of cheap, local beer prior to what you like to call 'serious drinking'? Depending on your answer, you may find yourself suffering some... side effects shortly..." Agnusdei stated, his tone and manner calm and collected as the man before him waved the broken bottle like a sword.

@[member="Joseph Taft"]
 

Joseph Taft

Character
Character
Taft cautiously took another step forward, slowly but surely approaching the torn couch where his visitor sat, taking more interest in his body language and movements rather than in his words as he did so. His body jumped back a few feet instinctively, as the masked man uncrossed his legs, quickly raising the broken bottle closer to his face and gripping the neck of the item tighter in his hand, assuming a sloppy posture as his legs began to tremble uncontrollably. He maintained his position for a few moments, as the masked man continued to drone on. He could only make out every couple of words that came from his mouth, the inebriated condition he found himself in, and the constant churning of his stomach, making it nigh impossible for him to concentrate on the visitors speech.

Lowering his guard after a while, he took another step forward and began slowly circling around the couch in the cramped apartment, keeping his gaze fixated on him. He bumped his hips into the chair the masked man motioned to before with his hands, knocking it down on the floor sideways and losing his own balance a little, as he stepped on his own toes and leaned towards the western wall. Grabbing hold of the edge of a clear nightstand, he used it to recuperate his footing. Leaning his back against it, his expression changed momentarily into a snarl and groaned, feeling his stomach upsetting him more and more.

"The bloody hell are you talking about lad?" He said in a pained and more silent tone, placing his free hand against temple and massaging it, muttering insults and groaning all the while. His eyes popped wide open, his upper body convulsing as he could feet a knot being made in his neck, trying to force it's way through, his cheeks being inflating themselves as he tried to keep his mouth shut. He dropped his makeshift weapon on the ground, pressing both of his palms against his mouth to keep it shut, a brown in color liquid coming out between the crevices of his fingers, gushing out on the floor. Leaning against the wall, he moved his body alongside it towards the end of the room and next to the open window, grabbing hold of the frame and putting his head through, beginning to vomit down on the street bellow.
 

Doctor Agnusdei

The Good Doctor
Writer
The masked figure watched the other try to intimidate and bluff his way around the room without so much as a twitch. When the man started stumbling more and knocking things over, Agnusdei knew the mild toxin he'd smeared on the foil top of the whiskey bottle had started to take effect. The toxin would do little more than make Taft sick and disoriented, but it would be enough for now.

Agnusdei silently stood and righted the knocked over chair. He then stepped over behind the vomiting Taft, removing a small tube from under his cloak as he came. The doctor grabbed Taft mid heave and promptly jabbed the tube into the side of the other man's neck. The spring loaded syringe fired off on impact, sending a concentrated dose of antiemetic medication into Taft's bloodstream. It also held a small amount of concentrated caffeine, carbohydrates, and vitamins to aid Taft's inebriation. It wouldn't sober him up entirely, but it would make the man more aware, receptive, and less liable to knock over the furniture.

"Take a seat, Mister Taft," Agnusdei said politely as he pocketed the syringe, let go of Taft, and retook his seat on the dirty sofa.

@[member="Joseph Taft"]
 

Joseph Taft

Character
Character
"Son of a ...UGHH!" Taft continued to hurl the contents of his stomach out the window, muttering insults and profanity through the small windows of opportunity that existed in between his vomiting, paying no attention to anything around him. He could feel a sharp pain in his neck mid heave, prompting his body to involuntarily spring slightly forward and his back to arch, his head now held high as he attempted to scream in pain, only managing to spew the now white liquid in a larger arc, some of it falling onto his hands and the window frame. He felt the inside of his neck burning as he let out one continuous hurl, his eyes watering and his entire body beginning to tremble uncontrollably.

Once he finished the current round, he turned around and leaned against the window frame, his legs caving in and sliding down the wall until he feel on his backside, his arms limp at his sides as he breathed heavily through his mouth. Slowly turning his head towards his visitor, now sitting with his back turned to him, he shouted at the man as he tried and failed to properly move his hand to clear the vomit from his mouth. "What the kark did you do to me?!"
 

Doctor Agnusdei

The Good Doctor
Writer
Agnusdei adjusted himself on the sofa. He replaced his metal walking stick as it was before, propped up on his crossed legs.

"I gave you a concentrated antiemetic solution with caffeine and vitamins to aid recovery from inebriation," he stated, his tone polite as always. A small thought worked its way up in the good doctor's mind that the unkempt man before him would have no idea what was just told to him.

"In simplicity, I gave you medication to calm your stomach of the toxin I gave you earlier. The cocktail of medication also included caffeine and vitamins to sober you up."

@[member="Joseph Taft"]
 
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