“How do you know that? Did you check a stat on ‘how often does someone crack their head open due to slipping on buttery floor’ just this morning? Ugh, do you think they’re really filming this. Are they gonna upload it on youtube?” Genevieve looked around for some hidden camera equipment. “So mean, guys.” She said a little louder into the room, to no one in particular, before she turned around to her fellow victim of this prank. “How do we get out?”
“How about the fact that this building is inhabited by both supernatural creatures and humans with the ability to draw some shapes on their skin and magically be ok. I think that chances someone is going to die by tripping over some butter is relatively low.” Gerard watched as the fay looked around the hall while he looked for a way of escaping. “Unless you can walk, I suggest crawling maybe the only way, unless you have aany other ideas?”
“I thought you were hurt. I wanted to help.” Genevieve shrugged, when she realized the other man wasn’t to blame. “Oh!” She said, a little confused. “I like pranks. I don’t see how this is a funny prank. What if we’d fallen on our heads and cracked them open and died!” She threw her hands in the air, her eyes accusing. “Also, the best part of a prank is to stick around and see the outcome. I don’t see anyone here.” The faerie said, looking around for someone she could blame for this.
“It takes more than falling over to hurt me, but thank you for concern. To the conspirators I’m sure this is hilarious and the chances of cracking our heads open is relatively low. As for their position I’m sure they are somewhere around here or they have a camera up and are filming this.”
“Ouch! Why didn’t you warn me?!” Genevieve asked a little upset, sitting up and rubbing her elbow with a crestfallen expression on her face. She poked her finger into the substance on the floor and frowned. “Why did they butter the floor?” She asked, not understanding the sense behind that action.
“You walked in before I could warn you. Its your fault” Gerard said quick to defend himself. “Its a prank, a practical joke. Clearly someone thought it would be funny to butter the hall so everyone would trip up.”
Genevieve had been in the kitchen, roaming through the cupboards for some cookies, when her ears caught the sound of a loud thud – as if someone had just fallen on their bum – from the entrance hall. The faerie hurried out the door and down the hall, where she saw a dark-haired man on the floor, swearing to himself. Genevieve stepped forward, her eyes opened wide with worry. “Are you okay?” She managed to ask, right before she lost her footing and slipped to the ground next to him. “Ah!”
Gerardo looked up as someone asked him a question to watch a fae tumble down joining him in the buttery mess. “You know what, I’m abso-bloody-lutely fan-fucking-tasitc and yourself? At least you’re near the periphery of this buttery mess.”
Genevieve startled from where she was reading on her bed, when Gerardo stumbled into their room, a stream of swears leaving his mouth. Her eyes widened when she saw the blood pouring out of his chest, her mouth agape in shock. The man walked a few more wobbly steps forward, before he crashed onto her bed right at her feet. “Your bed’s right there, Gerardo.” Gen told him disgruntedly, her face scrunched up as she watched the blood soak her sheets. With a huff, she kicked them off her feet to walk over to the bathroom to pick up everything she’d need to pick the silver bullets out of his chest – she was used to it by now, her roommate getting himself into trouble more often than not.
“Do I look like I give a shit, Genevieve?” He growled at the fae, though now he actually bothered inhaling properly he realised that the bed did smell weird in that it didn’t smell like him. He stayed though thinking that his room mate properly wouldn’t appreciate it if he completely covered their room with blood.