The underneath is a network of sewers and cold basement levels, filled with the stench of mildew and death. You hear sounds - at a distance, and nearby. Like many legs in the dripping water, like soft voices echoing down the halls.
More notably, no matter how you got here, you can't seem to get back out. However you arrived, it's a one-way entry, and there seems to be strong magical warding stopping anything from leaving.
Are these the dungeons? Or was your arrival here a mistake?
THIS IS A SECRET LOG! THIS MEANS THAT ALL CONTENT INSIDE OF IT IS SECRET BOTH IC AND OOC UNTIL YOUR CHARACTER IS ONCE AGAIN IN A PLACE WHERE THEY CAN REVEAL IT!
It's okay to make vague commentary on how things are going for your character, but please don't tell anyone OOCly the specifics of the location, characters, or events. That's for you and anyone else who joins you to share.
Start with your character arriving, and things will go from there.
Julien's covered in feathers, which are technically dead, but the ex-butler's hair seems to still be, well, existent, and hair is even more dead than feathers. Well. He's not holding out hope.
His neck stretches out as the spider mannequin turns towards him with that look on their face. Reira's brought up excitement and he believes it. With bird body language, the longer his neck is and the closer his feathers are to his skin the more fearful he is, and that's certainly a thing too. Bird body language doesn't include a smattering of phantom eyes appearing at the same time, of course.
He's in no position to make demands. "You may as well tell us."
They pause for a moment, stopping in their footsteps. Their eyes linger on the two of them for a few moments, the expression hard to read, their head slightly tilting. There is no fear in them.
Then, finally, their tension breaks with a snort. They lift up the baggie of food.
"Well, you just gave me this, didn't you? Do you suppose this is something I get frequently?"
The child has a rather stiff look in her eyes, with that answer. That can't be it, because the feeling came before she mentioned food....but people lie for reasons. Sometimes bad ones.
Mostly bad ones, really, she finds herself thinking, but for now the child lets it slide. Julien can, at the least, no doubt see that his charge doesn't believe the woman.
"....I guess that's a good thing to be excited about. ....I'm still learning what lots of foods are, but most of them were good so far." But just...how much farther are they to go? And where? And what lies at the end of it? Will she feel more emotions creeping inward as they get near?
....will it be anything good, that's the better question....
Julien would've been surprised if there had been fear of them. Reira's an undersized seven year old and Julien looks like a giant pigeon. They're both not as easy prey as they might look, but they definitely don't look like much.
Good to see Reira's more wary now, anyway. Fleetingly Julien wishes he still had his dæmon, but then again Julie might have blurted all kinds of things by now. Maybe not. This isn't like saying mildly embarrassing things in a friendly setting.
"Best hot dogs in Detroit, no one gets those often enough even if they live there," he says lightly, as if he buys that as an explanation. "Are we going anywhere in particular, or is it just better to keep moving down here?"
They will happily accept that, offering a strange smile before continuing down the passageway. They'll keep speaking as they walk.
"We're going to my living space. It will avoid the chance of any sudden attacks, and my belongings are there. It will easier for you to rest when required, as opposed to having to form a shelter for yourself."
"Some of those down here are still friendly, but some are now only hungry for meat. It's... unfortunate."
Unfortunate indeed-and she certainly couldn't say if the woman wasn't telling the truth, given the feelings the had been avoiding. "...Thank you," she says honestly-some shelter, after all, is nothing to turn down. "...Do you know the other friendly people?" How close are they, is something she wants to ask, but pulling an 'are we there yet' seems rather rude.
Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly. Julien almost says it under his breath, but he's pretty sure Reira wouldn't get it. Well, if it's their lair maybe that means they'll be the only one there. If it's not, chances are they'd stalk these two, or else they'd come across someone who doesn't even pretend to be helpful and civil.
He nods with his companion's thanks. "I can distribute more of what I've got, if that buys any time." As not-dinner to whoever. With a little pang of despair he realizes he's probably going to have to start selling himself as more delicious than Reira.
"I do," they say. "There's at least one other in this area. How the two of us have retained our sanity this long, I'm not sure. I've always suspected that it was because I had my own magical gifts."
"It would be kind of you to share when otherwise it will go to waste," they say to Julien, frankly. "I doubt the ones that are truly far gone will even recognize this as food at this point, but for the ones that do..."
"What kind of gifts?" she finds herself wondering. Her daemon, after all, still floats around as a ghostly fragment of her 'imagination'...but would such a thing count? Could empathy count? Julien was probably 'super magic', so how would he fare?
The gold dust that comes from her hair trails a bit while they go, and she ponders what to ask. "....If someone is hungry, how come they would have to realize it's food? ...Food has smells, right?"
Ah, good. Well, if he does lose his mind and decide to attack people, he's too big and air-adapted to be very good at it here. Really even if he does have enough food and water to keep himself and the kid going for a long time, he's just not going to last long. Julien has reached the point where things are almost funny, in a dull way. This is ridiculous. He wishes he could reject it.
"If they've been living on other people dumped down into here for so long, they might not know anything else is food. Even the meat I've got is cooked..." He pauses, sorts through his awareness of the things he's carrying. Something seems very subtly off about it, but he can't quite tell what, he hasn't been down here long enough for it to really be affected. "Most of it. I have some pork chops and chicken nuggets from way back when. But those aren't bloody, let alone alive, so they might not register."
He nods at the spider-mannequin, feeling subdued. "Yeah. Might as well spread a little kindness. Tell me when, all right?"
They nod, confirming Julien's explanation of it as they cast Reira a glance.
"They have come to recognize things that were recently living as a sign that the food will not make them ill. I'm sure that they could be convinced to try eating it with exposure, but the trouble is that they'd likely be more interested in killing you than experimenting with new flavours."
They fall silent for a few moments, before speaking again.
"For your own sakes, I hope that your stay is not permanent. It is not often that the Prince has guests, so I have little experience to speak from regarding your prognosis."
"Mhhnnn..." Well....that's a little more disappointing then. "....If the Ringmaster doesn't make a bargain though, that means we're stuck, doesn't it." She HAD asked about that, after all.
"Sounds like. I'm assuming there's not usually a way out." Well, he supposes they might not want to take it if it just led back to the Prince, but even so, if there was any passage between here and back aboveground he'd expect things to be a little less miserable than they sound.
"I'd really like to give a speech about getting everyone to freedom somehow. You can pretend I just did," he notes in a dry tone. Julien will look into options, but he knows the limits of his powers, and that they're so cut off that he has no perception of his other body makes those limits rather stricter. "Is there a name for this place? What should we call you?"
"It was a very good speech," they purr, their lip curling a little. "As for this place, we call it the underbelly. As for myself... any true names I had have been taken from me, but you can refer to me as Curse."
"Reira, don't. People can call themselves whatever they want. I had a friend who went by Roadblock. Sometimes it works out like that." He'd never asked Roadblock why he'd decided to be known by Roadblock. Maybe it was just because he was big? Regrets, anyway, inane and distant regrets.
They respect the sentiment Julien, but it's a bit more complicated than that, apparently.
"Chosen names can certainly be true, but once your names have been taken as mine has, no other name will ever feel 'right' again. You will never have true possession over a name until the day that they are returned to you. Even as you may call me 'Curse', it will never fully feel like a name that belongs to me. Neither to you, or to me."
Reira ponders those words for a number of moments-and thinks of her Daemon's own words, when they refused to take a name themselves.
Eventually, she just looks ahead, continuing to walk.
"....Is it okay to not use any name? And just talk instead?" she asks quietly. If a name does not feel right, it doesn't feel right to use it. That's all she can think, to this.
"....How do you get a name back, when it's taken?"
After a pause - and that's right, 'Curse' doesn't really seem to fit them, that's all really weird - Julien just says. "That seriously sucks."
They've been walking for a while. Shifting his path so he walks nearer to a wall Julien stretches out his wing, part of the way. There's not space for full extension this way but there's enough to say that yes, he's in better condition now. Bringing up his inventory again he selects more things to break down.
He could start building another human body now, he thinks. It'd take quite a while before it was something that could survive and be used though, longer than he suspects he has. Maybe if he'd been with the elder champions for longer they could have taught him about making smaller, simpler peripherals.
"If you don't want to call me anything, that's fine. Newcomers often found the sensation disturbing - both referring to others with such a feeling of unfamiliarity, and being referred to by others with words they'd never own. Of course, the idea of not using names altogether can be even more disturbing to those unaccustomed... and more than a little confusing, in a work environment. We usually just went by vague physical descriptors, when required, or words related to our work."
"The only way to regain your name when it's been taken," they say, "is to have it given back to you by the one who took it. Names are something that can be bought and sold, as it turns out. Or even stolen."
"So you can't steal it back..?" Gears may or may not be turning in her mind-but, all the same. "....I just thought it would be mean. ....If you don't feel nice when you're called a name that isn't yours, it's not fair to keep making someone feel that way." That's what it seems, at least.
As it is. "....How long has your name been gone..?"
"So whenever someone comes into his service, your master strips their names away. How does he even get new people? Does anyone ever get to go home?" And why hasn't his name been taken, or Reira's? He glances down at her. Still Reira, regardless of whatever her true name is.
"I had regained my name for a time, while I served as butler. It's considered a reward for a particular level of service - a butler is meant to manage the rest of the household, and therefore is meant to be a close and loyal servant, and rewarded as such. However, before and after that... I'm not sure, now. Many years. Longer than I should have had, as a lifespan."
As for Julien's question, Curse casts him an odd look. Almost uncomprehending.
"Going home? Of course not. Why would they be allowed to do that?"
Now that brings a blink. ".....I guess the Prince is just a lot worse, then..."
...After all.
"....She doesn't take names. ....But....she also makes contracts. If you work for a year and a day, you can get something in return. Or if you do something wrong, you can work for a year and a day to fix it. ....That's all that happens though. ....Unless you break the biggest rules-the three rules, the things that happen if you do something bad aren't like this." She hasn't even been around for a month, and she knows THAT.
She does, however, look to Julien to explain a bit further if he can.
Julien makes a deep pigeony mrrmmm down in his chest. He hadn't heard about the rulebreaking, but then, he's not violent or inclined to cause trouble. Not intentionally cause trouble.
"She lets people go home even if it hasn't been a year. We went somewhere kind of... weird and unpleasant, and she got us out, and like half her staff went to see her and went home. Supposedly they'll be back, some of them came back right away, I think they won't be off the hook or have the reward until they've served their year." He thinks it's more complicated than that, but that's what he's picked up anyway, in his all of two months.
"I get the feeling she wants us around, we're like entertainment, but she doesn't bear her staff ill will. Guess she was the exception. The fae in that other world were pretty openly cruel."
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lostchance) wrote2017-10-06 10:01 pm
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His neck stretches out as the spider mannequin turns towards him with that look on their face. Reira's brought up excitement and he believes it. With bird body language, the longer his neck is and the closer his feathers are to his skin the more fearful he is, and that's certainly a thing too. Bird body language doesn't include a smattering of phantom eyes appearing at the same time, of course.
He's in no position to make demands. "You may as well tell us."
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Then, finally, their tension breaks with a snort. They lift up the baggie of food.
"Well, you just gave me this, didn't you? Do you suppose this is something I get frequently?"
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Mostly bad ones, really, she finds herself thinking, but for now the child lets it slide. Julien can, at the least, no doubt see that his charge doesn't believe the woman.
"....I guess that's a good thing to be excited about. ....I'm still learning what lots of foods are, but most of them were good so far." But just...how much farther are they to go? And where? And what lies at the end of it? Will she feel more emotions creeping inward as they get near?
....will it be anything good, that's the better question....
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Good to see Reira's more wary now, anyway. Fleetingly Julien wishes he still had his dæmon, but then again Julie might have blurted all kinds of things by now. Maybe not. This isn't like saying mildly embarrassing things in a friendly setting.
"Best hot dogs in Detroit, no one gets those often enough even if they live there," he says lightly, as if he buys that as an explanation. "Are we going anywhere in particular, or is it just better to keep moving down here?"
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"We're going to my living space. It will avoid the chance of any sudden attacks, and my belongings are there. It will easier for you to rest when required, as opposed to having to form a shelter for yourself."
"Some of those down here are still friendly, but some are now only hungry for meat. It's... unfortunate."
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He nods with his companion's thanks. "I can distribute more of what I've got, if that buys any time." As not-dinner to whoever. With a little pang of despair he realizes he's probably going to have to start selling himself as more delicious than Reira.
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"It would be kind of you to share when otherwise it will go to waste," they say to Julien, frankly. "I doubt the ones that are truly far gone will even recognize this as food at this point, but for the ones that do..."
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The gold dust that comes from her hair trails a bit while they go, and she ponders what to ask. "....If someone is hungry, how come they would have to realize it's food? ...Food has smells, right?"
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"If they've been living on other people dumped down into here for so long, they might not know anything else is food. Even the meat I've got is cooked..." He pauses, sorts through his awareness of the things he's carrying. Something seems very subtly off about it, but he can't quite tell what, he hasn't been down here long enough for it to really be affected. "Most of it. I have some pork chops and chicken nuggets from way back when. But those aren't bloody, let alone alive, so they might not register."
He nods at the spider-mannequin, feeling subdued. "Yeah. Might as well spread a little kindness. Tell me when, all right?"
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"They have come to recognize things that were recently living as a sign that the food will not make them ill. I'm sure that they could be convinced to try eating it with exposure, but the trouble is that they'd likely be more interested in killing you than experimenting with new flavours."
They fall silent for a few moments, before speaking again.
"For your own sakes, I hope that your stay is not permanent. It is not often that the Prince has guests, so I have little experience to speak from regarding your prognosis."
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She doesn't see there being no reason for it.
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"I'd really like to give a speech about getting everyone to freedom somehow. You can pretend I just did," he notes in a dry tone. Julien will look into options, but he knows the limits of his powers, and that they're so cut off that he has no perception of his other body makes those limits rather stricter. "Is there a name for this place? What should we call you?"
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But also- "....Did you make the name yourself? ....Does picking a name make it different from a true name?"
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"Chosen names can certainly be true, but once your names have been taken as mine has, no other name will ever feel 'right' again. You will never have true possession over a name until the day that they are returned to you. Even as you may call me 'Curse', it will never fully feel like a name that belongs to me. Neither to you, or to me."
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Eventually, she just looks ahead, continuing to walk.
"....Is it okay to not use any name? And just talk instead?" she asks quietly. If a name does not feel right, it doesn't feel right to use it. That's all she can think, to this.
"....How do you get a name back, when it's taken?"
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They've been walking for a while. Shifting his path so he walks nearer to a wall Julien stretches out his wing, part of the way. There's not space for full extension this way but there's enough to say that yes, he's in better condition now. Bringing up his inventory again he selects more things to break down.
He could start building another human body now, he thinks. It'd take quite a while before it was something that could survive and be used though, longer than he suspects he has. Maybe if he'd been with the elder champions for longer they could have taught him about making smaller, simpler peripherals.
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"The only way to regain your name when it's been taken," they say, "is to have it given back to you by the one who took it. Names are something that can be bought and sold, as it turns out. Or even stolen."
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As it is. "....How long has your name been gone..?"
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As for Julien's question, Curse casts him an odd look. Almost uncomprehending.
"Going home? Of course not. Why would they be allowed to do that?"
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Now that brings a blink. ".....I guess the Prince is just a lot worse, then..."
...After all.
"....She doesn't take names. ....But....she also makes contracts. If you work for a year and a day, you can get something in return. Or if you do something wrong, you can work for a year and a day to fix it. ....That's all that happens though. ....Unless you break the biggest rules-the three rules, the things that happen if you do something bad aren't like this." She hasn't even been around for a month, and she knows THAT.
She does, however, look to Julien to explain a bit further if he can.
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"She lets people go home even if it hasn't been a year. We went somewhere kind of... weird and unpleasant, and she got us out, and like half her staff went to see her and went home. Supposedly they'll be back, some of them came back right away, I think they won't be off the hook or have the reward until they've served their year." He thinks it's more complicated than that, but that's what he's picked up anyway, in his all of two months.
"I get the feeling she wants us around, we're like entertainment, but she doesn't bear her staff ill will. Guess she was the exception. The fae in that other world were pretty openly cruel."
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