Thomas huffed at the man's gruff response. He was a joy. Of course this was a casino. It was what they'd walked into. It was just... a new design, the chaser reasoned.

He didn't bother responding and instead just stormed toward the middle of the room. He wasn't about to he called stupid anymore.

"Let's go this way then," Thomas threw his arms in the air like a petulant child, "Better than standin' around in this... casino arguin'. 'sides, worse case we can try another way."

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They didn't need to bicker, but the reason they were all doing so was understandable; one wrong move could result in all of their demises, and their options were rather limited.

"Fine, let's go forward. Let's face what we have to face—the fog has already proven that it will thwart our attempts to approach situations with logic," he said with a deep breath.

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— set by MJ! —

Conall, annoyed but with nothing else to say, shrugged and started forwards.

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Timothy, personally thinking that the worst case was that they would all die or meet some other terrible fate, followed suit as they all went forward.

  

Not for the first time the atmosphere within the group grew tense, but it was hardly surprising considering what they'd endured so far. He was relieved that they seemed to be aiming for the path straight in front of them, but felt a sheepish for the disharmony he felt he'd aggravated if not caused outright. He did at least hold his tongue, having wanted to remark back to Tilcott that the worst case scenario was death which was very permanent. He walked on with the others, not feeling particularly inclined to speak in case he lowered the collective mood further.
""

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The older man and Umbridge seemed out of sorts and Somersby just wanted to get on with it. If they had to face down some evil something or other he'd rather it be sooner rather than later. And he really did want to know what was going on here. It was almost with relief that he watched Mr. Quidditch storm ahead down the middle, at least it put a stop to the bickering. If he'd wanted bickering he'd just have stayed home. He followed into the middle corridor.

  

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Made by magic (MJ) <3

Benjamin Turner Thomas Tilcott Theodoric Jameshill
Edric Umbridge Somersby Fudge Conall MacKay Timothy Ainsworth

Partway down the middle path, they encounter three urns set in the middle: one with an owl head, one with a cat head, and one with the head of a dog.

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The next 'prompt' post will be after either 48 hours have passed from the time of posting (4:00 PM EST on July 30th) or after every member of the party has posted one time if this occurs before that deadline. Please remember that you must post within 72 hours to continue participating. :)

  

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Are your characters stuck in the smalltalk loop?
Does your imagination feel like it just can't perform as it used to?
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Unable to get that post up?
Is your relationship suffering because of your inability to satisfy your partner?
SUFFER NO MORE!
With a little intervention from The Suggestionizer your RP life could be back on track in no time!

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It was obvious by this point that someone had planned this entire thing—this was not caused by the fog, but by whoever had caused his fog. That being said, their methods for leading them to wherever they were going was questionable at best; if they wanted to send a message, why try to kill them off with burning rain and massive hail?

His arms flew out the moment he set eyes on the urns, motioning for no one to step further. What was that, Egyptian? The cat imagery seemed far more familiar than the owl or dogs—at least in relation to ancient history—and it unfortunately brought the image of Febby to his mind.

"Nobody needs to touch them." The words were meant to remain as thoughts but left his mouth anyways. "Not at least without...deliberation. It looks like a puzzle, a trap, or both."

He glanced back at the team, brows raised questioningly.

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— set by MJ! —

He heaved another sigh at the sight that accosted them. Their placement, right in the middle of the passageway, was suspect, as ominous as everything else had been. Conall was slightly disappointed they weren't an actual owl, cat or dog. Maybe they'd come alive?

To him, they looked like urns, containers of some kind, which suggested there was opening to do, but Frilly Parasols had forbidden them all from touching them, so Conall - look, wasn't he playing along well? - didn't bother to get a closer look. Puzzle, or trap, or whatever; what were they going to do? Skirt around them and ignore them completely? Poke them with a stick?

He folded his arms wearily, sick of all this. "Go on then," he said tersely. "Deliberate." He'd amuse himself in silence in the meantime.

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The following 2 users Like Conall MacKay's post:2 users Like Conall MacKay's post
   Eavan Miller, Flora Mulciber

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"They look like...canopic jars," the wee historian said, baffled by their presence here, though not as baffled as he had been by many other things on this little adventure. "Though the heads are wrong."

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— graphics by mj ❤ —

When they entered the room, everyone started bickering again and still feeling rather salty about the man with the shitty attitude, Thomas huffed toward the jar with the cat on and nudged it, "They're just jars. What's so special about 'em? How are the heads wrong?"

He then turned to the group.

If he was going to be made to look a fool, he sure as anything was going to try to prove them wrong. Or as the rest of the world would see it, prove their point.

"We ain't come this far to stare at some jars so they must 'ave some meanin'" Thomas turned back to the cat-jar and tried to lift off the lid, "Maybe whatever we need is inside one of them."

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Somersby honestly agreed with Umbridge despite the grumbling from the old man. Think it through before being rash, he figured. Mr. Quidditch apparently disagreed. Somersby was distracted from trying to think of an answer by the man trying to open the jar. So much for thinking it through.

  

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Made by magic (MJ) <3

Benjamin Turner Thomas Tilcott Theodoric Jameshill
Edric Umbridge Somersby Fudge Conall MacKay Timothy Ainsworth

Inside the cat jar are some ancient, dusty, wrapped-up organs. However, Mr. Tilcott will likely not have very long to observe that, as he transfigures into a sandy-colored cat.

---

The next 'prompt' post will be after either 48 hours have passed from the time of posting (4:00 PM EST on August 1st) or after every member of the party has posted one time if this occurs before that deadline. Please remember that you must post within 72 hours to continue participating. :)
If you did not post in the previous round you have until 3 PM EST on July 31st to do so.

The following 1 user Likes The Suggestionizer's post:1 user Likes The Suggestionizer's post
   Aldous Crouch

---

Are your characters stuck in the smalltalk loop?
Does your imagination feel like it just can't perform as it used to?
Mid-thread crisis getting you down?
Unable to get that post up?
Is your relationship suffering because of your inability to satisfy your partner?
SUFFER NO MORE!
With a little intervention from The Suggestionizer your RP life could be back on track in no time!

--> Click here for more details <--

Known side-effects include: chronic ridiculousness, immense satisfaction, itching, uncontrollable laughter, burning, deep regret, despair, shock, horror, incidental dismemberment, joy, and death. Use at your own risk!

It seemed their was no deliberating, save for Mr. Turner's general observations. The daft Tilcott decided his best bet was to be the brave one and approach the jars, and Edric watched with a wide eyes—and then a sigh—as he was turned into a cat. His patience was already thinning, and now they had a cat to deal with. With little more than a peeved glance towards the others, he moved towards the sandy-colored feline before he bent down and grabbed him by the scruff. Edric lifted him up and dangled him at face-level, his brows raised high on his forehead.

That's what you get for being reckless, he thought as he stared the feline in the eye. He held Tilcott towards the others as a way of warning. "If anyone wants to touch the owl or dog now, feel free to."

---

  

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— set by MJ! —

Well that answered the question of what they would do. Ignoring Umbridge for a moment Somersby squatted down next to the opened jar now on the floor thanks to Mr. Quidditch’s transformation. He squinted at the insides then looked up at Ben. “Looks like you’re right.” He wondered what it meant to have left these lying in the middle of a corridor like this.

  

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Made by magic (MJ) <3

Hissing a little as he was picked up, Thomas wandered for a moment that this was not how he wanted his day to go.

At least, that was what he would have wandered if he wasn't a cat.

Instead, he simply plopped down onto the floor once released and sauntered over to the cat jar, running his face against it, his tail brushing against Fudge; being quite the inconvenience.

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The following 1 user Likes Thomas Tilcott's post:1 user Likes Thomas Tilcott's post
   Aldous Crouch

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