maskormenace | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[On the network is what appears to be a young boy, about 12 or 13 years old. For a moment, he stares quite soulfully at the video output impossibly deep, black eyes, and then pokes at the screen with one fingernail.]

Not even a proper imp in there, how's that for you...?

[He pulls back and mimes clearing his throat. A voice far, far more booming than is fit for the child's face resounds across the feed.]

Right, broadcast. AHEM. This is just a friendly, non-suspicious question, inquiring on when the next coup or violent overthrow of this government is going to be. Not that I'm actually advocating it, I just know you humans really can't resist.

I'm pretty handy with a popcorn machine if anyone can provide good seats.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ She's encouraged by that total shock - she thinks that might mean she's getting somewhere. Or, alternatively, it might just mean he thinks she's weird and it's a pointless question and she's wasting her time...Well. Regardless. ]

Go on. Let's hear it.

[ For all of his bluster, the bird doesn't answer immediately. A bit awkwardly he starts,¹ ]

Well, there's going from one shady government, giving a shady deal while at war to another one not looking a wit nicer. [ There's a pause here.² ] Really, I'm vaguely convinced they haven't quite fine tuned the control mechanisms.³ I'm not just talking about me, though, I'm talking about anyone with powers. It completely disrupts the whole balance of all of these countries.⁴ But no one's going to listen to me about that.

[ He seems to get his wind here, and just gets rolling on it. ] On top of that, the Other Place isn't mine, I checked. Which makes it extremely creepy to even be there and what's worse it throws me back out here whenever it feels like it. Like I don't belong there either. The only thing good about it is that I don't hurt like my Essence is on fire.⁵ I assume you're fleshy half of things is keeping you nice and buffered from that.

While I'm at it, I'm going to lodge a formal complaint that the idiot who last contracted me showed up and shoved off without having the common decency to leave a message. "Oh, you were right." wont be in the vocabulary, but I would take a "I owe you one" that means nothing because he's popped off anyway like the fool he is, or even a "thanks" but frankly, I'll settle for some shallow, petty praise.

[ Ah. She had responses to the other things, but the last one throws her for a loop. Because - yes. Yes, that one she understands well. Her eyes drop to her knees, and her throat tightens, and she offers a soft: ]

Yeah. That...I wish he were here, as well.

[ She takes a breath. ]

What's all that about your Other Place, though?

[ He doesn't say anything to that first soft comment. He doesn't have to.

The roc ruffles, as if offended. Enormous feathers go everywhich way. ]

I don't think it's a proper place here. Not the way it should be.

Well - tell me more about it.

[ The bird cocks its head, quizzically. The tone is, for once, more curious than defensively sharp. ]

Which bit?

The Other Place here.

[ There's a heavy exhale through the beak... And the two playing kids drop to the sand with thumps as Bartimaeus settles back into a more comfortable form. ]

It seems like the one back home. Works the same, feels the same. Nothing in the way of time, direction or solid substance there. But there's no one else either... I get all comfortable and pop! Back out here - right where I went in.

I mean, the advantage being is that I don't need someone to send me there. I can just ... well, leave when I want to. Bring things in, too. Which is also weird.

Like - objects?

[ That does seem weird. The Other Place is so...non-physical. ]

Yeah. Whole bodies, according to that sheet. [Because that is clearly an object. ]

Like - dead bodies?

[ That's both a little horrifying - that they'd suggest it - and...well, it's also potentially useful, frankly. ]

I'm going to assume live ones by the context.

Oh.

[ Huh. ]

Would they stay alive in there?

Dunno...

I'm going to say that probably depends on how much I like them.

[ Gruesome. Well; no help for it. She nods once. ]

Well. Would you keep me alive in there?

Yyyyyes.

But why don't we experiment on someone expendable? Like the hypermanic midget.

[ Hands on hips - ]

He is not expendable. Anyway, you did challenge my will to do it. So here I am, volunteering.

[ And...rather hoping he doesn't say yes, and hoping he does, because the Other Place is remarkable, and also it'll probably kill her. ]

[ Bartimaeus is similarly torn. Because, on one hand, company, on the other hand, it'll probably kill her. ]

Aren't we being hasty here?

Edited 2017-02-01 02:02 (UTC)

[ She lifts her chin defiantly. ]

Are we? I hadn't noticed. Because that's how little hesitation I have in being willing to do this if it'll prove to you my trust in you.

[ And here is where, predictably, Bartimaeus dooms himself. ]

Is it that important to you?

Of course it is.

[ She gives a little gesture of her hands and admits, a bit helplessly, like she herself isn't sure what to do with this - ]

You're my friend. I don't want you to think that's only true sometimes.

[ It struck him, true or untrue, that in an odd way, she wasn't all that different on the subject... That if he just said it was fine, it wouldn't remove all of the doubt that had started up there...

And like that, he was decided. He reaches out, puts his hand on her, and moves.

The elements peal back and someplace else opens up. Shimmering colour surrounds Kitty in this strange area. There's no sense of distance or depth, but there's still an immense sensation about it. The boundaries are only the ones that Kitty sets... as Bartimaeus' are completely down. It wouldn't be hard to feel the worry. Or the sadness... Or the nearly bottomless trust and awkwardly new affection.

He sketches out a simple room for her. ]

[ Oh. It's not like the other Other Place at all. He's right about that. It's...easier in so many ways. The true Other Place had torn at her, battered her, the cacophony of consciousnesses overwhelming her own and threatening to destroy her. Here, now, there's nothing but her and him, and she knows him well enough to know perfectly well where he ends and she begins. Her sense of self is unthreatened here. And what a wonder it is to be in this place without that terror, without that need to defend herself - to only be able to stare about her at the colors and dazzling lights and wonder...

She turns her attention at Bartimaeus, then. There's fear in her, uncertainty. That overwhelms everything at first, as she asks him, feeling certain that he'll know - ]

Am I dying? Like last time? [ Her sense of self, the knot of essence that is Kitty - shapeless, unhumanlike - swirls with anxiety. But she trusts him, trusts that he knows and that he'll tell her. ] It doesn't feel like last time.

Edited 2017-02-01 16:01 (UTC)

No, it's not like last time at all. [ Or like Ptolemy (there's flashes as he thinks, her ball and the sensation of her, the cloth doll Ptolemy had put together at first before he'd gotten a real hang of it)... there was no sense of her essence changing, that slow separation and adaptation that had taken the dearest of tolls. Curious... relieved as well, ] You're not dying.

Oh, thank goodness.

[ The fear goes largely out of her at that - there's a little left, a bit of but what if he's wrong?, but not much. Correspondingly, her ball of essence loosens, the ball becoming a cloud, looser and swirling in the open space. ]

It's easier, this Other Place. I know who I am. [ Though that's followed by a stab of worry, echoing around to fill the space. ] Though that's...bad for you, isn't it.