( underfoot ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wolfchild) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
epidemiology2017-08-26 08:40 pm
wolfchild) wrote in epidemiology2017-08-26 08:40 pm
( open. )
CHARACTERS: the artist formerly known as arya and you
DATE: spanning several days
WARNINGS: will edit if needed
SUMMARY: arrival shenanigans aka indoor plumbing is the single greatest thing you guys
(( note: feel free to use any of the suggested locations or use another! if you'd like a personalized starter, pm me or comment to this post! ))
DATE: spanning several days
WARNINGS: will edit if needed
SUMMARY: arrival shenanigans aka indoor plumbing is the single greatest thing you guys
[ with the purple hood pulled over her shaved head and clad in her new black trousers with the white and purple piping along the sides, her feet encased in tall, good boots, the new girl looks like she belongs. zokla is her name, for being the word to come to mind after discounting the others. she did not know what to expect to risk cat as she might otherwise have done; she could no longer be beth since her vision was returned. she wasn't sure if the kindly man would have insisted on "no one" or if that here too would not serve.
it's a good word, she decides. fierce. the girl turns it over on her tongue. zo-kla. it has a sound like a pause, then a sharp strike. much like the creature it means. it will make a good name.
the bedrooms had been dull, each one identical to the last. at least, those she could open. she tried to pick one of the locked doors, but without the proper tools gave it up for lost. there is plenty more to see, however, and zokla's steps soon speed up until she is dashing through halls and rooms trying to see it all.
she is outside, studying the strange animals stabled with a curious eye and wishing she could mount a horse and ride out, but zokla has never touched a horse much less mounted one so she pushes aside the memory of wind through her hair and the ground falling away ( that memory belongs to another girl, and anyway she has nowhere to ride to — )
or she cranes her neck at one of the suits of armor, distracted by it, as if she might catch glimpse of the person that must be inside before stepping closer to knock on the metal and being greeted by the hollow sound, and when it sets off on its patrol, she follows behind, often getting it to divert from its path to show her where to find this place or that one until she has memorized the paths herself —
or she is piling a dish high come mealtimes, grabbing a little of everything and then some more because zokla would know the hollow ache of going to bed hungry and would cheer that those days are now past —
or she is in the kitchen standing on tiptoes before the faucet, laughing in delight at the splash of water on her fingers the temperature of which she can change, now hotter, now colder, with a simple twist of the knobs and from which she can drink deep, the water clean and sweet —
or she stumbles across the greenhouses and spends a day up to her elbows in loose, dark earth, learning which plants are safe and which will raise an unsightly purple rash on her skin, which are good to eat, good for injury, good for aches, and which will render you ill almost to death ( or kill you outright ) — when she's not chasing after a wide-leafed bush with pale red flowers that likes to get up and walk away on rope-like roots —
or she comes into the forge when it looks empty and passes a hand over the tools, picking one or two off the wall ( those that she can lift ) and thinks she might have known someone once who would have lived here happily —
or she makes her way through the dungeons to come upon the strange sight of a thousand, thousand mirrors stretching so far up and so far away she cannot see those furthest and spends hours among the reflections as if she might make sense of them. ( as if one of them might show her a wall made of ice at the end of the world. ) ]
no subject
You had that hidden up your sleeve.
[ the better trick would be why he had an egg, but she's also far too inured to people carrying strange things to wonder overlong. ]
no subject
A magician never reveals his secrets, and neither should you.
[ holds it out to her. ]
Go on, stick it in the microwave.
no subject
[ but she will be taking the egg, thank you. the buttons mean little to her, but she thinks she can remember which areas he pressed. she mimics his actions as best she can and is rewarded by light and the glass plate inside starting to turn. arms on the counter, she sets her chin on her hands to watch. ]
no subject
Give it a minute.
[ it rolls around the plate, round and round...
seconds pass, the steam inside builds . . . ]
no subject
it explodes in a spatter of egg and shell that paints the walls and the door.
she laughs. ]
It exploded! [ she rounds on the old man. ] Did you see that?
[ like he hadn't been the one to suggest this to start. ]
1/2
he feigns surprise for a second anyway. ]
Did it?
no subject
And that shell seemed like such a clever way to keep its insides in, before... You'll want to keep the hen away from this.
no subject
I wouldn't bring a hen in here anyway. Not unless I was going to eat her. And there's no point in eating a hen until she stops laying.
[ wisdom brought to you by the once starving corner. ]
no subject
closes the microwave door on their mess. he won't tell if she doesn't. ]
Where are you from?
[ he tilts his head at her; if he were still in his universe, he'd have made an educated guess, but since those rules no longer apply... ]
no subject
It's known the world over. Places as far away as Yi Ti and Asshai know the purple sails of our ships.
[ she speaks proudly: a true braavosi girl, claiming the city-state's triumphs as hers. there is much to take pride in braavos. a city founded by escaped slaves, hidden for years, growing stronger…until the time came to reveal itself to the world. and it did so with a fierceness unparalleled claiming a position of power and prestige, this bastard daughter of valyria. her ships dominate the seas. kings tremble at the mention of the iron bank. the titan roars its warning at the entrance to the lagoon: no enemy may enter and hope to remain afloat.
a city made of stone upon a hundred isles where a dozen languages suffuse the air and all gods are honored and the harbors are always thriving with sailors, traders, captains, soldiers, travelers, each armed with a hundred stories of places far away.
it is the perfect city for a little girl to disappear who has no place else to go. ]
no subject
I don't know of it. But I'm taking note, in case I spot purple sails someday.
[ it's a thing he's having to admit more and more often these days. he's used to knowing things. or, at the very least, having heard of things. as incredibly old and excessively well-traveled as he is. on the one hand, he feels perpetually off-kilter, confronted daily now with entire realities he's had no inkling of. but on the other... what could be more exciting? he's always been motivated by the desire to see and learn everything, and here he is, a sponge with a multiverse of new information to soak up.
he has questions he knows she can't answer. foremost: is it earth by another name, or a different planet entirely? show him a satellite image, zo. ]
So then... what do you make of all this?
[ he gestures widely at the kitchen (or the castle in general.) ]
no subject
[ she kicks her good boots under the table. ]
So what they ask will be very hard.
no subject
It will be.
[ he's not generally one to sugarcoat, doesn't matter if she's ten or fifty. there's no point. ]
From what I've seen: complicated and dangerous, with minimal preparation. So it's very much up to us [ he swings a finger between her and himself, then points out the kitchen door ] to prepare ourselves.
Has anyone explained to you what the multiverse is, or a computer, or a gun, or a biro?
no subject
it was the leaner, hungrier, meaner animal that more often came away with the food she tossed them. that's her. ]
no subject
he laces his fingers under his chin and sighs through his nose, face tight for a moment with frustration, and anger at the whole thing. it's the answer he expected, of course. she may not be worried, but he can be on her behalf.
but that also doesn't get them anywhere. she's here, tiny and uneducated as she is, so focus on what can be done about it. he meets her gaze. ]
I reckon you're clever. You'll learn quickly, because that's how you've survived.
[ an observation - if anything he's gleaned from this brief interaction is accurate. she's not the first kid he's seen to wear that expression. ]
But now you're in a fairy story where the rules don't matter anymore, not the ones you knew. You've got one advantage: me, and seventy-eight other people from worlds with abilities and technologies you haven't imagined.
So corner them and ask questions till your jaw drops off.
no subject
[ the or else that silently followed those declarations goes equally unvoiced. ]
Lloyd mentioned the multiverse when I first got my bracelet. [ her fingers touch the silver baby bracelet around her left wrist. ]
I heard it described as…everything?
no subject
[ time to get started, then. moves his mug aside so he can gesture at the table, launches into an explanation like it's second nature, ]
Lesson one. Your world - the planet you live on, its sun, and all of the stars in your sky... that's your universe. [ he splays his fingers and moves them in a wide circle. ]
But there are an infinite number of universes running parallel to yours... so we cleverly call them 'parallel universes.' Some of them might be very nearly identical to yours, with some minor cosmetic changes. Maybe Braavos's sails are lime green rather than purple. But others will be nothing like yours at all - different stars in an unrecognizable sky. [ holds his hand up in the air, in a wide arc. ]
You can think of the multiverse as pages in an impossibly massive book. It's nothing like that at all, but if it helps. You exist on one page, one universe, and you can't see or touch or hear any other page, you can't visit them... unless you know how to punch through, like ALASTAIR does. The page we're on right now has been torn to shreds, until only a little piece remains.
We're here to stop that happening to the rest of the book.
no subject
The mist, [ she says when he's finished. she lifts her eyes. ] There's nothing in it. It's all barren. It always brings you back here no matter how deep you walk into it.
no subject
of course, if you ask him, he thinks that makes everyone all the more important. he's the doctor and he's optimism till he dies.
and once it's clear she's absorbed the whole thing and more or less understands it, the doctor crosses his arms in front of himself on the table and leans forward slightly, eyes bright. ]
That's right. You can't walk beyond it, because there isn't anything beyond it. All you're really doing is walking in a circle. Looping round what's left of the world.
[ he doesn't sound duly distressed nor disturbed by the fact that an entire universe has been reduced to nearly nothing. horrific phenomena are fascinating phenomena. but he does think to add: ]
...There's no need to start worrying about your world now, though.
no subject
she thinks, for a moment as aching as it is brief, of the brother she had clung to when last she saw him, raining kisses on his face. ]
I don't want any more worlds to die.
[ all men must die. but not like this. ]
no subject
Nor I, nor anyone. No matter which slice of reality we're from, that unites us all, doesn't it? Any rational being, anyway. We're all affected.
[ he glances down at the table. ]
For an entire universe to collapse... what happened here, it's never meant to happen. And it should never, ever happen again.
[then leans back in his chair. face lined with the bone-deep weariness of a man who has seen enough "never-supposed-to-happens" happen to last a dozen lifetimes (and then some)... and the unflinchingly determination - confidence of someone who's walked out of the fire alive more times that he can be bothered to count. it's simple, really: ]
So we won't let it.
wrapping up?
he's been kind to her, though, so she nods instead, and drains her cup. ]
What is that?
[ she points to the toaster.
teach her about toast. ]
works 4 me!
where he gestures at it like he's on a game show. ]
An entire machine devoted to browning your bread. And basically, people are completely obsessed with it.
[ beans on toast, spaghetti on toast, toast on toast - it's a magical and hopeless world. ]