[Well! Wandering the property has found no trace of a scuffle OR a body, and though he's counted quite a few people in passing he's still yet to find who he's looking for. But as the day stretches, the state of the morning finally starts nagging at him. An evening collapsed on a hard floor in an awkward position, his outfit still coated in ghosted remains of flour that he hadn't been able to shake off...
Gods, he needs a wash. If only for a few minutes.
He's on his way towards the stairs when he catches eyes of someone he still had yet to see, momentarily silent.
Uh.]
...Really, you always seem to catch me at my most unflattering moments, my dear. How do you do it.
[nice recovery, zing
Is this better than the costumes? Well. Maybe if there wasn't a mystery body somewhere.]
[After they recovered from waking up in the clothing store, the front door opened as easily as it always had, as if the entire building hadn't sealed them in the store until they lost consciousness.
But the clothing store is lit with obnoxious, overheating bulbs, and despite the relative safety of the boarding house, she'd like to see if she can find the girl who's sharing a flat with her. Someone managed to slip those papers underneath their doors, after all.
Cantarella looks a little humid, perhaps, but otherwise rather normal. She is probably wrapped in a nice thrifted robe, though.]
When you head a family as large as mine, you must have eyes everywhere, you know. Of course, none of them are here. I'll attribute it to my good fortune, instead. I hope no one threw flour on you over the course of the night.
A woman with her ripe connections is a woman to be feared, eh?
[He drops himself to a seat near the bottom steps, a tired lean against his knees. Sorry, just enjoying the view a little while he tries not to think about climbing three more flights of stairs.]
Aye, well... perhaps all my luck ran off to sit with you when the sun set. The cafeteria was an outright mess when we all woke, so I was hardly the only casualty.
Ludger mentioned that the presence normally working our fine kitchen had been overly aggravated last night, before we fell to our state of sleep. The whole place was in shambles behind the counters.
[Cantarella smiles, the chuckle that stirs in her throat low as a curl of smoke. Her gaze is very intense, though it eventually lowers as he goes on to discuss the circumstances of his night in the kitchen. She doesn't seem to be looking for an answer to that question.]
The clothing store felt wrong as well...nothing quite so calamitous, and yet... Were you, too, unable to leave?
[Good thing, because while he offers a tired smirk and a boyish sort of shrug at the question, he's more than happy to let it slide in favor of the more serious topic.]
...You as well, hm?
Yes. Every door and window we tried, all barred shut. Even the emergency exit in the back of the kitchen. I attempted to break the front door down myself, but not so much as an ilm out of place when I tried.
As far as I could see, there was nothing wrong with the latch. It's as though the door itself was stuck tight.
Enchantment came to mind. In tandem with our unrequested sleeping spell, that's only doubled over as my culprit of choice.
Likewise, we tried to force the door open, and nothing came of it. Since the doors within the clothing store tend to jam, it was just annoying at first. Then it grew steadily more suspicious.
I have a high tolerance for toxins, so I find it unlikely we were put to sleep by any natural sedative.[So, yes, she does tend to agree with his assessment there.]
[What a question...and a very astute one. Cantarella's eyebrows lift a little, making the sapphire surface of her eyes brighter.]
Well... Let's say that venom runs in my family. The "Poison of Ragunna," they call us.
[No clear opinion on that label, given her expression or tone.] The sweetest of my poisons, however, are currently beyond my reach. As with all the others, so I'd heard.
[Even merely mentioning her Forte makes her tongue a little restless in her mouth, but she holds it.]
His determination to not be foolish front of her seems a little silly given their previous two meetings have been wreathed in sprigs of clownery, but she smiles likeshe believes him—or is humoring believing him—anyway.]
That's right. Ragunna is a city-state in Rinascita, my home.
[Shall they go inside so she can feel some kind of way about having walked through the boarding house carnage none the wiser later?]
Solaris is unknown to you as it is to any of the others, isn't it?
[his pride is in shambles woman let him pretend to be cool :'(
Still, he'll acquiesce his spot on the stairs, a motion of his arm for her to lead the way as he pushes up to his feet. Oof.]
The name of your world as a whole, I take it?
It's unfamiliar, yes. I've yet to recognize any lands mentioned from our comrades. Quite the amount of repeated names, for certain, but nothing of my own lands.
Urianger is the only exception. But in that, it seems we're alone in finding a familiar face.
[Even his attempts at being gentlemanly run into some snags, don't they? Thancred's apparent stiffness and soreness draw an expression of slight concern out of her. Even if he motions for her to lead the way, Cantarella actually doubles back to put her hand in his elbow, checking his steadiness.]
The two of you are uniquely fortunate...and probably uniquely concerned. Still, I think I'd rather a familiar face even in an uncomfortable place, if only so I could offer them a warm and familiar song to think of home.
[She'd not wish the confusion, the discomfort, the rising worry she's beginning to feel about the situation they've found themselves in on anyone important to her, though.]
Were the two of you also together before we awoke in the fog?
[He blinks at the touch to his arm, and though he doesn't shake it off, he's still waving her down casually.]
Ah -- no need for that, my dear, I'm fine. Rough night on wooden floors, getting after all the boys when they woke up. A wash will do me fine.
[Uniquely concerned, though, hm? Well, she isn't wrong. And the example she gives does earn a warm sort of chuckle out of his chest.
Her question, though? That gets a unique sort of pause.
...]
We were for a time. We've been comrades for years, working for a like cause - one that recently had us travelling out on a mission of importance. We'd been separated before waking here, though. Long enough that both of us were caught by surprise when we found each other.
He's a dear friend. A gentle soul. I do not wish a place like this on him... but I'm glad for his presence, even so.
[When she's waved off, Cantarella politely, if slowly, draws her hand away. She's not overbearing, though she does tend to express her concern in a physical way.]
I'm not sure which would have been stranger...for you to arrive separately as you did, or for you to have been spirited away together. This double-edged sword may at least serve a good purpose. Conflict between us isn't going to be much help at all. There are enough suspicious things, let alone a house of thirty strangers.
[Lobelia's haunting announcement has left so many blanks, almost like it was targeted to disseminate panic between then.]
...I can't say which I genuinely prefer, given that we are apparently missing two others that should have followed suit with us. I'm inclined to think it might have been only chance.
[He doesn't want to dwell on where the other two might have gone. Estinien and Y'shtola could both fend for themselves perfectly well.]
Speaking of suspicious things, however...
Have you taken any closer looks into the depths of that clothing store, by chance?
also i'm crying at the thought of estinien just standing there alone
[What a nasty paradox they've found themselves dealing with...everything at once seems coincidental and contrived. Chance and unexplained purpise seem to be competing at every turn.]
A little, though I mostly searched for clothing and for any signs of our fashionable little wooden friend.
When I was trapped with the others there overnight, the situation was enough of a distraction. I spent more time chasing shadows than learning anything...and being roped into their games.
[Her curfew companions were quite lively.]
dragoon manstanding in the void while his friends get tortured in two different universes
Stuck with a more lighthearted group, eh? I hope they didn't give you too much trouble.
[Mmm, how much does he want to say here...]
I'd have advised for caution regardless. Those delightfully stubborn doors do have a spot in which they open, though I wouldn't be able to tell you what good it does anyone to get back there just yet.
[Cantarella pauses on the assent, looking a little surprised. With the front doors barred up as they were, she'd certainly considered trying to unhinge the jammed doors at the back of the store.
Really, if she hadn't been distracted by the others, she well might have.]
Not feeling courageous or hard enough to venture in behind them? It's likely for the best you exercised that caution. Curiosity should be indulged with care, especially here.
[THERE ARE PEOPLE DRINKING FROM THE FUCKING WELL. She sighs.] May that curiosity not have made someone pay dire consequences.
Ah, if only lady luck would return for me a little longer. I'll take your returning company as a good enough exchange.
[He likes her banter. It's refreshing.]
The latter, I'm afraid. Nothing to see at first but a storeroom about as messy as the rest of the place, which is not exactly what we were looking for when we'd made the attempt. Boxes both closed and open, all filled with clothing or accessories or props of some nature.
It was by chance we seemed to come across a single item each that we knew from home. Nothing we had on us, but something we knew from our past.
It sounds as though you might have forged your own fortune, doesn't it? [Hehe...but banter aside, this is really not the time. It's a gentle rudder for the topic. Despite her skepticism about most things that appear without explanation in this place, questioning their reality or her own state of mind, Cantarella still feels piqued enough to ask.]
Were they anything useful?
[If they've both taken something from home that appeared out of thin air and not somehow been cursed for it (or have), that's knowledge just as worth having as gaining spiritual sight from dipping in the well.]
[That gets her attention. She doesn't bother hiding it.]
I don't need to tell you there's a stark difference between the two. [Here he was saying he wasn't lucky?]
Even setting aside the disparity, for now...If these things weren't even in your possession before you came here, that's the kind of appearance that should defy belief.
Unfortunately, that is about all it amounted to. The moment I examined them for more than a moment, their appearance changed to a pair of shoes. Though I was able to pick them up and feel the weight of the weapons I knew, they did not look correct.
When I attempted to remove them from the room, the feel of them changed to match their new appearance, and I was left with nothing more than the shoes.
[Cantarella had left the library at some point, so Thancred might not have seen her right away upon entry. She returns soon enough, however, and pauses by the recessed couches in the theater area where the lot of them had slept, hesitating there before ascending toward the stacks. When she sees him, Cantarella stops, a hand brought to her chest.]
Thancred. [Her eyes scan him from toe to tip, a small pause before she continues speaking.] This is where I spent the night. When we woke up, there was nothing. [The same as last week, then.]
[He definitely looks like he's on the search for something, with his attention so firmly drawn. But Cantarella's voice catches him, forcing a stop and a rather quick resignation.
His tail stays tucked against his ankle with an odd sort of tension that matches the set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. Straight to business, nothing else.]
How many of you were there? Were Zvei or Reiju with you when you fell asleep?
Six others and myself. We watched a film. Reiju wasn't with us. Zwei was, and no sign of him either in the morning, though it did take me a moment to catch my breath.
[The hand at Cantarella's chest lowers. No tail lashing, just tension... He at least seems less ready to crawl into a hole eternally than he did at the pool, even though there's a clipped set to his words.]
I've also not seen hide nor hair of Sage, though I looked briefly before I left. I can't say it surprises me, given they hide well.
Mm. They've a tendency to bury themselves wherever the tomes on magic end up. [Having a conversation with Sage will make this a surprise to literally no one ever, he was not kidding when he told the town hall they were very easy to find if you just followed what you knew.]
I had hoped to speak with them while the bodies were fresh, but I suppose that's not going to happen.
[There's a strange sort of pause, as though something she's said as struck a chord with him that leaves him almost... melancholy, for the briefest of moments. But he doesn't speak on it.]
I'm glad to know someone is approaching them with some level of composure, at least.
Aye, I wouldn't be surprised. Given the many fumbled outcomes of the week past, I would like to think both our parties have learned that something needs to change in our attempts at communication, should they genuinely want cooperation.
We may argue at times. I've a feel they're just as stubborn. But I'd not leave the avenue entirely cold on our own end.
[Cantarella crosses her arms and nods. Perhaps he might find Sage if they part ways...she won't linger, but she dislikes this feeling she can do nothing.]
Indeed... Our heads have butted more than once, but I also think we're more resilient than to be undone by all of that.
[And yet, she can't deny that things have been plummeting so quickly. Last night, they had a fight during their meeting...and now...]
The tenor of Lobelia's announcement sounded different this time. [Perhaps a repeat occurrence was just not so interesting for him...or perhaps he, too, was hoping for the cooperation that seems to be failing them.] I fear this may be related to something uncovered during our time here.
[Tolerable. A welcome, if not concerning, sort of change.]
From what they've claimed previously, it sounded as though they genuinely expected it to be an isolated incident when they found the first body. A bad egg or two. And yet, here we are, with two more lost and our previous killer nowhere to be seen.
They will not be able to approach this from the same angle as before. Regardless of whether it has anything to do with our findings or theirs, they have to acknowledge that something else is happening outside an unfortunate loss of life.
[Concerning, indeed. As glad as she is not to have heard him downright jovial about announcing a death, the directness in some ways made it even more shocking.]
I agree. This is neither a mere coincidence nor a case of mistaken intentions. [If it ever was that... They will never really know what happened that first tragic nights.] Something is escalating, and quickly...and on the heels of all our bids to cooperate and communicate. The same sleep... It's orchestrated, though I could not say how.
[Thank god they're not dwelling on their previous week, or his temper would skyrocket straight through the roof. He's still not happy with how a lot of that went down.]
I stand by what I said yesterday. If we've a presence in this place besides our two parties, then unless we've firm evidence otherwise, it might be prudent to assume that is our culprit. Sage and I have already come to the conclusion that an act of magic to orchestrate that many coincidences at once, while powerful, wouldn't be entirely impossible.
The more concerning mystery being... what intentions would they even have to lead to something like this? And what do they gain for it in repetition?
[He may yet get his chance to lizard rage...either about the previous week or something else entirely.]
Twice is not yet a pattern, but twice is two times too many.
[And too recurrent enough already for her tastes. Cantarella would like to see it become not a pattern.]
There are a few things about this space, beyond the space itself, to be disrupted. First, our arrival or our departure. Second, the research the puppeteers have been conducting. And third, whatever happened before that led to the retention of lingering resonances—or spirits—that we see occasionally now. Or all three together, given the links between them...all the times we've heard whispers of pain or illness or encountered in inexplicable force.
[me rolling up my sleeves like oh boy oh boy i cant wait for trial :) :) :)]
Aye, but that would imply this force has reason for those disruptions. Whether it be keeping us here, keeping the puppeteers from their goals, or otherwise festering whatever is containing the rest.
Assuming there is reason behind it, anyway, and not something like instinct instead.
[ANGRY LIZARD TOMORROW I'M READY even if i also have a fear
Cantarella, meanwhile, strikes a generic gacha game character thinking pose.]
Chameleonic creatures will change their stripes to hide from threats, which could only go so far in explaining the warping in perception we have seen. Something that needs only to consume would not bide time or seem so discriminating. If its in instinctual, then I think the most likely instinct would be one to corrupt.
[this is where i note that thancred is, in fact, missing his normal gloves and is wearing a completely different jacket...... i forgor......... it looks like he's nabbed something from the clothing store, and relatively recently given how new it still looks]
We can only hope it's not something acting completely out of our own realm of knowledge. [There's a strange bite to the statement, as though it's not something completely unheard of for him.] We already have enough disadvantage as it is.
[Since the last time she saw him would have been at the townhall, presumably this is a different jacked and peeled-hands look from the one he was wearing then. In that case, she does notice it, given the relatively short lapse in time and the likelihood that they've all mostly just woken up a few hours ago.]
If it's happening within this space, whatever it is, then there must be something left behind or some indication. An opening, a remnant...Very little passes forever without trace. [The tenor of her voice is determined. Cantarella does feel the odds may not be in their favor, but as much as she wants to contract her tendrils and retreat fromthat possibility, she won't.]
[He is decked out in one of the Uncomfy Chairs, and someone has seemingly already thrown a blanket over his shoulder in their absence. But while his attentions drift towards the ceiling, the crash makes him jump, and--
Oh. That is. Kind of cosmically amusing, given their track record.]
--Goodness, and here I was about to ask if you were alright. [He breathes out a laugh as he pushes up off his chair, a weak push of the broom to the side with one of his feet as he holds out a hand for her. Well. His only hand, right now.] Aye, I'm alone for now. Were you expecting Y'shtola?
...Gone through all the trouble for dear old Thancred, eh?
[His pulse is strong, if not just a little fast. But he will try to guide her towards the table.]
Yugamu and the healing lamps have done a fine enough job, and I had far too much on my mind to sit and wallow in the infirmary. [He sighs.] Far from death's door. But the others have insisted rather thoroughly that I not move, so here I stay.
Even if I must entertain the company of a few wayward brooms.
If you're old, then I wonder what you're trying to say about me.
[They are about the same age, give or take, though time has become much harder for her to trace. She feels ancient, anyway, her loss of coordination as it is.
Cantarella has her seat in one of the uncomfortable deskchairs, letting one of the charmed brooms sweep around her feet from a much safer position.]
I don't suppose they're very good company when you've got too much on your mind. [Surely she's preferable to being trapped here surrounded by sweeping sounds.]
A fine wine does little being taken from the shelf too soon. [A smirk, but he moves on.] Besides, I would have Y'shtola to thank for starting that little nickname, thank you very much. Something about my knees and an unfortunately timed headache, and suddenly I'm the elder in need of babysitting.
[He sighs dramatically as he plops into the seat opposite, eyes following the broom that trails the floor at Cantarella's ankles.]
Mm, I'd be the wrong one to ask, I suppose. I've not had the fondest of memories take their place around these things. [And from how his gaze sombers, it's not another embarrassing story.]
Though I'm sure Y'shtola finds nostalgic comforts in them.
[She can see the expression that washes over his face, so Cantarella certainly won't be pushing for an explanation in her usual teasing manner.
It's on the heels of a humorous anecdote, even, but she might be looking for something beneath his glib demeanor even then, tiredness in the wake of his very long adventure.]
I'm not going to begrudge her anything that makes her work here easier. [The brooms kind of suck at their jobs, and yet Y'shtola finds them useful...and will prove them useful shortly, besides.] You feel the same, I imagine? But you're sequestered in a cramped study with no one to share your own.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heartofcorundum) wrote2025-11-07 11:06 pm
WEEK ZERO - FRIDAY POST BODY
Gods, he needs a wash. If only for a few minutes.
He's on his way towards the stairs when he catches eyes of someone he still had yet to see, momentarily silent.
Uh.]
...Really, you always seem to catch me at my most unflattering moments, my dear. How do you do it.
[nice recovery, zing
Is this better than the costumes? Well. Maybe if there wasn't a mystery body somewhere.]
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But the clothing store is lit with obnoxious, overheating bulbs, and despite the relative safety of the boarding house, she'd like to see if she can find the girl who's sharing a flat with her. Someone managed to slip those papers underneath their doors, after all.
Cantarella looks a little humid, perhaps, but otherwise rather normal. She is probably wrapped in a nice thrifted robe, though.]
When you head a family as large as mine, you must have eyes everywhere, you know. Of course, none of them are here. I'll attribute it to my good fortune, instead. I hope no one threw flour on you over the course of the night.
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[He drops himself to a seat near the bottom steps, a tired lean against his knees. Sorry, just enjoying the view a little while he tries not to think about climbing three more flights of stairs.]
Aye, well... perhaps all my luck ran off to sit with you when the sun set. The cafeteria was an outright mess when we all woke, so I was hardly the only casualty.
Ludger mentioned that the presence normally working our fine kitchen had been overly aggravated last night, before we fell to our state of sleep. The whole place was in shambles behind the counters.
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[Cantarella smiles, the chuckle that stirs in her throat low as a curl of smoke. Her gaze is very intense, though it eventually lowers as he goes on to discuss the circumstances of his night in the kitchen. She doesn't seem to be looking for an answer to that question.]
The clothing store felt wrong as well...nothing quite so calamitous, and yet... Were you, too, unable to leave?
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...You as well, hm?
Yes. Every door and window we tried, all barred shut. Even the emergency exit in the back of the kitchen. I attempted to break the front door down myself, but not so much as an ilm out of place when I tried.
As far as I could see, there was nothing wrong with the latch. It's as though the door itself was stuck tight.
Enchantment came to mind. In tandem with our unrequested sleeping spell, that's only doubled over as my culprit of choice.
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Likewise, we tried to force the door open, and nothing came of it. Since the doors within the clothing store tend to jam, it was just annoying at first. Then it grew steadily more suspicious.
I have a high tolerance for toxins, so I find it unlikely we were put to sleep by any natural sedative.[So, yes, she does tend to agree with his assessment there.]
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'Twas something I took notice of the other day when I last visited. I could see why you'd assume as much until it was far too late.
Fascinating, though... Have you been trained on those toxins by choice, or is it merely a natural immunity?
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Well... Let's say that venom runs in my family. The "Poison of Ragunna," they call us.
[No clear opinion on that label, given her expression or tone.] The sweetest of my poisons, however, are currently beyond my reach. As with all the others, so I'd heard.
[Even merely mentioning her Forte makes her tongue a little restless in her mouth, but she holds it.]
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Remind me not to act too much a fool with you at my back. Or even at my front, for that matter.
What would Ragunna be, I wonder. Your locale?
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His determination to not be foolish front of her seems a little silly given their previous two meetings have been wreathed in sprigs of clownery, but she smiles likeshe believes him—or is humoring believing him—anyway.]
That's right. Ragunna is a city-state in Rinascita, my home.
[Shall they go inside so she can feel some kind of way about having walked through the boarding house carnage none the wiser later?]
Solaris is unknown to you as it is to any of the others, isn't it?
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Still, he'll acquiesce his spot on the stairs, a motion of his arm for her to lead the way as he pushes up to his feet. Oof.]
The name of your world as a whole, I take it?
It's unfamiliar, yes. I've yet to recognize any lands mentioned from our comrades. Quite the amount of repeated names, for certain, but nothing of my own lands.
Urianger is the only exception. But in that, it seems we're alone in finding a familiar face.
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The two of you are uniquely fortunate...and probably uniquely concerned. Still, I think I'd rather a familiar face even in an uncomfortable place, if only so I could offer them a warm and familiar song to think of home.
[She'd not wish the confusion, the discomfort, the rising worry she's beginning to feel about the situation they've found themselves in on anyone important to her, though.]
Were the two of you also together before we awoke in the fog?
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Ah -- no need for that, my dear, I'm fine. Rough night on wooden floors, getting after all the boys when they woke up. A wash will do me fine.
[Uniquely concerned, though, hm? Well, she isn't wrong. And the example she gives does earn a warm sort of chuckle out of his chest.
Her question, though? That gets a unique sort of pause.
...]
We were for a time. We've been comrades for years, working for a like cause - one that recently had us travelling out on a mission of importance. We'd been separated before waking here, though. Long enough that both of us were caught by surprise when we found each other.
He's a dear friend. A gentle soul. I do not wish a place like this on him... but I'm glad for his presence, even so.
thancred you sound EIGHTY YEARS OLD!!!!
I'm not sure which would have been stranger...for you to arrive separately as you did, or for you to have been spirited away together. This double-edged sword may at least serve a good purpose. Conflict between us isn't going to be much help at all. There are enough suspicious things, let alone a house of thirty strangers.
[Lobelia's haunting announcement has left so many blanks, almost like it was targeted to disseminate panic between then.]
dont tell yshtola :pensive:
[He doesn't want to dwell on where the other two might have gone. Estinien and Y'shtola could both fend for themselves perfectly well.]
Speaking of suspicious things, however...
Have you taken any closer looks into the depths of that clothing store, by chance?
also i'm crying at the thought of estinien just standing there alone
A little, though I mostly searched for clothing and for any signs of our fashionable little wooden friend.
When I was trapped with the others there overnight, the situation was enough of a distraction. I spent more time chasing shadows than learning anything...and being roped into their games.
[Her curfew companions were quite lively.]
dragoon manstanding in the void while his friends get tortured in two different universes
[Mmm, how much does he want to say here...]
I'd have advised for caution regardless. Those delightfully stubborn doors do have a spot in which they open, though I wouldn't be able to tell you what good it does anyone to get back there just yet.
[poorly aged sentences for 400, alex]
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Really, if she hadn't been distracted by the others, she well might have.]
Not feeling courageous or hard enough to venture in behind them? It's likely for the best you exercised that caution. Curiosity should be indulged with care, especially here.
[THERE ARE PEOPLE DRINKING FROM THE FUCKING WELL. She sighs.] May that curiosity not have made someone pay dire consequences.
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[at least he's not drinking the well water!]
I say it may not do any good, as it were, precisely because I was successful in my attempt.
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[That's her promise to not keep running into him looking like a whole carnevale worth of jesters.
so she must]Was what you found there just lackluster, or did it present more questions than answers?
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[He likes her banter. It's refreshing.]
The latter, I'm afraid. Nothing to see at first but a storeroom about as messy as the rest of the place, which is not exactly what we were looking for when we'd made the attempt. Boxes both closed and open, all filled with clothing or accessories or props of some nature.
It was by chance we seemed to come across a single item each that we knew from home. Nothing we had on us, but something we knew from our past.
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Were they anything useful?
[If they've both taken something from home that appeared out of thin air and not somehow been cursed for it (or have), that's knowledge just as worth having as gaining spiritual sight from dipping in the well.]
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Of my companion, no. It was only nostalgic.
[His arms cross tight as they reach the stairwell to ascend up the building.]
Mine, however, was a weapon.
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I don't need to tell you there's a stark difference between the two. [Here he was saying he wasn't lucky?]
Even setting aside the disparity, for now...If these things weren't even in your possession before you came here, that's the kind of appearance that should defy belief.
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Unfortunately, that is about all it amounted to. The moment I examined them for more than a moment, their appearance changed to a pair of shoes. Though I was able to pick them up and feel the weight of the weapons I knew, they did not look correct.
When I attempted to remove them from the room, the feel of them changed to match their new appearance, and I was left with nothing more than the shoes.
w1, post-body announcement
Thancred. [Her eyes scan him from toe to tip, a small pause before she continues speaking.] This is where I spent the night. When we woke up, there was nothing. [The same as last week, then.]
finally........ a non-embarrassing thread (cope)
His tail stays tucked against his ankle with an odd sort of tension that matches the set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. Straight to business, nothing else.]
How many of you were there? Were Zvei or Reiju with you when you fell asleep?
we broke the curse (or did we)
[The hand at Cantarella's chest lowers. No tail lashing, just tension... He at least seems less ready to crawl into a hole eternally than he did at the pool, even though there's a clipped set to his words.]
I've also not seen hide nor hair of Sage, though I looked briefly before I left. I can't say it surprises me, given they hide well.
narrator voice: they did not
I had hoped to speak with them while the bodies were fresh, but I suppose that's not going to happen.
the hell never ends
Despite their disparagement for the library, they seem very familiar with it. I did require their guidance when we met for tea. My tea, anyway.
[She has mostly refrained from puppet conversation, so this is a bit of small trust.]
Perhaps they went to meet the others. Do you suppose they saw Zvei leaving? Or perhaps it's other insight that you seek...
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I'm glad to know someone is approaching them with some level of composure, at least.
Aye, I wouldn't be surprised. Given the many fumbled outcomes of the week past, I would like to think both our parties have learned that something needs to change in our attempts at communication, should they genuinely want cooperation.
We may argue at times. I've a feel they're just as stubborn. But I'd not leave the avenue entirely cold on our own end.
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Indeed... Our heads have butted more than once, but I also think we're more resilient than to be undone by all of that.
[And yet, she can't deny that things have been plummeting so quickly. Last night, they had a fight during their meeting...and now...]
The tenor of Lobelia's announcement sounded different this time. [Perhaps a repeat occurrence was just not so interesting for him...or perhaps he, too, was hoping for the cooperation that seems to be failing them.] I fear this may be related to something uncovered during our time here.
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[Tolerable. A welcome, if not concerning, sort of change.]
From what they've claimed previously, it sounded as though they genuinely expected it to be an isolated incident when they found the first body. A bad egg or two. And yet, here we are, with two more lost and our previous killer nowhere to be seen.
They will not be able to approach this from the same angle as before. Regardless of whether it has anything to do with our findings or theirs, they have to acknowledge that something else is happening outside an unfortunate loss of life.
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I agree. This is neither a mere coincidence nor a case of mistaken intentions. [If it ever was that... They will never really know what happened that first tragic nights.] Something is escalating, and quickly...and on the heels of all our bids to cooperate and communicate. The same sleep... It's orchestrated, though I could not say how.
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I stand by what I said yesterday. If we've a presence in this place besides our two parties, then unless we've firm evidence otherwise, it might be prudent to assume that is our culprit. Sage and I have already come to the conclusion that an act of magic to orchestrate that many coincidences at once, while powerful, wouldn't be entirely impossible.
The more concerning mystery being... what intentions would they even have to lead to something like this? And what do they gain for it in repetition?
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Twice is not yet a pattern, but twice is two times too many.
[And too recurrent enough already for her tastes. Cantarella would like to see it become not a pattern.]
There are a few things about this space, beyond the space itself, to be disrupted. First, our arrival or our departure. Second, the research the puppeteers have been conducting. And third, whatever happened before that led to the retention of lingering resonances—or spirits—that we see occasionally now. Or all three together, given the links between them...all the times we've heard whispers of pain or illness or encountered in inexplicable force.
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Aye, but that would imply this force has reason for those disruptions. Whether it be keeping us here, keeping the puppeteers from their goals, or otherwise festering whatever is containing the rest.
Assuming there is reason behind it, anyway, and not something like instinct instead.
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Cantarella, meanwhile, strikes a generic gacha game character thinking pose.]
Chameleonic creatures will change their stripes to hide from threats, which could only go so far in explaining the warping in perception we have seen. Something that needs only to consume would not bide time or seem so discriminating. If its in instinctual, then I think the most likely instinct would be one to corrupt.
[But she can only speak from her own experience.]
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We can only hope it's not something acting completely out of our own realm of knowledge. [There's a strange bite to the statement, as though it's not something completely unheard of for him.] We already have enough disadvantage as it is.
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If it's happening within this space, whatever it is, then there must be something left behind or some indication. An opening, a remnant...Very little passes forever without trace. [The tenor of her voice is determined. Cantarella does feel the odds may not be in their favor, but as much as she wants to contract her tendrils and retreat fromthat possibility, she won't.]
w4 thursday
She catches herself on a precarious stack of study materials before it can fully trip her, regaining her composure as she does.]
Lost your shadows for a moment?
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Oh. That is. Kind of cosmically amusing, given their track record.]
--Goodness, and here I was about to ask if you were alright. [He breathes out a laugh as he pushes up off his chair, a weak push of the broom to the side with one of his feet as he holds out a hand for her. Well. His only hand, right now.] Aye, I'm alone for now. Were you expecting Y'shtola?
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Not necessarily. Though when you see her, you can tell her I have taken this broom for reeducation.
[Cantarella probably doesn't mean that. She takes his hand when he offers it to her, subtly pressing her fingers to his pulse.]
This is just closest to the lab, and I am honoring my word to check in on you. [Please don't ask how long it took her to get here.]
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[His pulse is strong, if not just a little fast. But he will try to guide her towards the table.]
Yugamu and the healing lamps have done a fine enough job, and I had far too much on my mind to sit and wallow in the infirmary. [He sighs.] Far from death's door. But the others have insisted rather thoroughly that I not move, so here I stay.
Even if I must entertain the company of a few wayward brooms.
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[They are about the same age, give or take, though time has become much harder for her to trace. She feels ancient, anyway, her loss of coordination as it is.
Cantarella has her seat in one of the uncomfortable deskchairs, letting one of the charmed brooms sweep around her feet from a much safer position.]
I don't suppose they're very good company when you've got too much on your mind. [Surely she's preferable to being trapped here surrounded by sweeping sounds.]
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[He sighs dramatically as he plops into the seat opposite, eyes following the broom that trails the floor at Cantarella's ankles.]
Mm, I'd be the wrong one to ask, I suppose. I've not had the fondest of memories take their place around these things. [And from how his gaze sombers, it's not another embarrassing story.]
Though I'm sure Y'shtola finds nostalgic comforts in them.
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It's on the heels of a humorous anecdote, even, but she might be looking for something beneath his glib demeanor even then, tiredness in the wake of his very long adventure.]
I'm not going to begrudge her anything that makes her work here easier. [The brooms kind of suck at their jobs, and yet Y'shtola finds them useful...and will prove them useful shortly, besides.] You feel the same, I imagine? But you're sequestered in a cramped study with no one to share your own.
[HE SHOULD BE IN BED...]