[h3]Eastern Yharnam, Hunter's clinic, back room[/h3]
Victor and Torquil's attention had strayed from the figures occupying the back room of the clinic after the one aptly described as the “Screaming Man” had turned out to only have stirred momentarily from his slumber. Victor was just about to resume his search for anything interesting in this place with a newly determined priority to find a key to this place, and Torquil had noticed the new Messengers offering them their message. But barely had the two made a move to go through the door to the reception before a voice – a new voice – called out behind them, stopping them dead in their tracks. They both turned around to face the speaker.
But a moment later a second new voice replied to the first, and the two Hunters at the door turned their heads in unison to look at him instead, Victor with an expression that betrayed shock and mild panic, Torquil with surprise, but also joy and relief.

The two men likely made a strange visage, standing there next to each other, particularly with Arcturus' tall, lean figure with them for comparison. Victor was fairly tall, only a little shorter than Arcturus – though both of them would still have to look up at Nigel, had he been standing – while Torquil was rather short. The comparison almost made their relative proportions seem exaggerated; Victor and Torquil both being somewhat burly, though neither could once again compare to Nigel – likely made Arcturus look obscenely thin, and Torquil standing next to his tall companions would make him seem tiny.
Of course, a lot of the attention that might have been directed at this, as well as to the fact that Arcturus and Torquil were both dressed and equipped in such a way that it would not betray their inner nature as Hunters while Victor wore the uniform of a church Hunter, might have been distracted by the fact that Victor was still completely drenched in impossible-seeming quantities of blood. His efforts to wipe his face and gloves had only lessened the red tint there, but not removed it; blood was notoriously difficult to clean off, and there was a [I]lot[/I] of it.

“You're at a clinic for blood-ministration,” Victor replied to Ludolf's question, eyes shifting between these newly awakened fellows in a way that might suggest paranoia. Noticing Nigel's foreign-looking attire, he elaborated: “In Yharnam. You're probably Hunters now. So are we.”

As he spoke, a crowd of four Messengers – invisible to Victor but ironically visible to everyone else present for it – emerged from the floor around Ludolf's feet through what seemed almost like tiny puffs of mist. Their grotesque, eyeless and remarkably dissimilar faces turned towards him, their tiny little hands extending towards his shins, palms upturned, in an almost pleading gesture.