"Eighties must have been nice. I just remember being judged for every thing that I put in my mouth." She shrugs, "Teen girls are very judgey."
"To be fair, I was never a teen girl."
Terry is struck by a sudden thought, and shudders. "Yet."
"I asked Sabine about why some of us are more mutable in other recursions," Charlie says. "My hypothesis was that those of us who are have a weaker sense of who we are, but she said it's just as possible that we simply have different sides to our personalities that are being revealed. The subconscious as extant."
"I don't think I've met a Sabine yet," Terry says. "And I haven't the foggiest."
When Charlie rolls his Halloween dice, a ghoulish laugh fills the air, and a swarm of bats descend on him from the chimney of the Witch's mansion. When they get close enough to menace him, the group sees that these bats have tiny faces of human children that cry like infants as they fly around his head.
"Trick or treat! Trick or treat!" They call between infantile crying. "Give us something good to eat! If you don't, we don't care, we eat it all; skin, bones, and hair!"
Aleph grins at her. "It doesn't matter, it worked out just fine." He picks up his own menu, peeking at her over the top of it as surreptitiously as he can manage. "I know the other places to grab food at the Estate can be… overwhelming. I think I ended up accidentally starving myself for a few days when I first joined. I couldn't make a choice, everything sounded good, but what if I ate something and immediately saw a better option?"
The waitress swings by the table.
"Hi there, my name's Dia. I'll be around, but usually I try to give people their space when they choose to dine here. So if you ever need me, just press this," she gestures to a small button on the side of the table, "and I'll come by! Can I get you anything to drink?"
Aleph gestures for Kari to order first if she's ready, but when it's his turn, he requests sparkling lemonade.
"I visited France once, got a taste for it there. Drinking it here isn't quite the same as drinking it by the Seine, but it's a good substitute." He alternates between looking at the menu, and looking over the top of it at Kari. "And much better company." He ducks his head a little, then coughs, as though to move quickly past the compliment.
"Did you travel much, before getting thrown into all of this?" He gestures at the fractal sky above them.
"Something craft? Love craft? It was not pleasant."
Aleph's expression sobers, and Zaika looks alarmed.
"How long have you been an Agent? How did you end up in Lovecraft of all places?" Before Aleph or Terry can explain, her expression changes. "Oh, goodness, were you with Fenwick when he went?"
"Thank you."
They both smile, and start talking over each other at the same time. Aleph laughs and gives a sweep of the arm to indicate Zaika should speak first.
"I haven't been to any musical recursions yet. If you ever want company when you go, let me know. It sounds wild." She returns the same go on gesture to Aleph.
"Just keep something on you that acts as a touchstone to your reality. A totem, so to speak, that keeps you somewhat grounded to yourself." His expression sobers again. "It's an intense experience, but the risk of alienation in such a different reality is much higher than if you visited, say, Mr. Rogers."
"Neither of us want to see you in here because you lost your mind." He finishes.
"Neither of us want to kill your buzz, either," Zaika says to Terry while firmly nudging Aleph with an elbow. "You've probably been surrounded by people telling you to be careful. But most lives are short, and there's a lot to see and do. We're here to stitch you back together if you live a little too hard every now and again."
"I don't think I've met a Sabine yet," Terry says. "And I haven't the foggiest."
"She was talking to Aleph when we left? Had the butterfly wings?"
"Trick or treat! Trick or treat!" They call between infantile crying. "Give us something good to eat! If you don't, we don't care, we eat it all; skin, bones, and hair!"
"I have a stupid idea," Charlie says, taking the whip from his belt. "The sound of a whip cracking comes from the fact that the tip is breaking the sound barrier. Bats navigate by sound." He shrugs. "Worth a shot, I guess."
Charlie begins rapidly cracking the whip, as though Cotton Eyed Joe were playing.
"Give us something good to eat! If you don't, we don't care, we eat it all; skin, bones, and hair!"
Kari shakes her head at the discordant end to the bats cry. "meat... skin, bones and meat."
Charlie begins rapidly cracking the whip, as though Cotton Eyed Joe were playing.
"Smart." Kari says, very voice quieter than the snapping. Louder, "Get ready to run!"
She hits the button on the flashlight, trying to knock off the bats lesser sense.
You can almost hear Terry's teenage eye-rolling. He takes off his headphones, and holds them toward the swarm of bats. "Suck on some Ozzy," he shouts to the bats, cranking up the volume on his Walkman.
A female voice booms from the headphones in moderately-distorted tinny glory.
After Kari uses her flashlight, Brian bolts off along with her. He keeps his staff gripped in his right hand in case her stunt doesn't work.
As the dulcet sounds of Enya flow from Terry's Walkman, Brian can't help but snark "Enya? Really?"
Although Charlie and Kari's attacks individually wouldn't quite have dissuaded the bats from their snack, Enya's glorious Orinoco Flow chorus seems to do the trick. The whip cracking creates a perfect backing track to the music, and Kari's flashlight provides the much needed light show for the concert.
Ultimately, the bats decide that now is not the time or place to snack upon the humans, and they take off into the air, unappreciative of the show that was just put on for their benefit. Their tiny baby cries fill the air, disappearing as they take off towards distant bonfires.
On the ground lays a pumpkin colored hand buzzer with a tiny bat etched on the palm-side of the device.
Once you've made it a safe distance away, the carnival calliope music plays again, with the carousel rising out of the ground. This time, however, the carnival barker himself appears. He's wearing a very tattered and dirty version of a striped barker's suit, and his eyes are milky white, with strands of greasy hair appearing underneath a fancy top hat. He looks at Brian.
"Is it fair to say you're still uninterested in taking a ride?" He asks, voice at a normal volume this time around.
"No, I'll give a go this time," sighs Brian, as he hops onto the carousel.
The Barker says, voice magically amplified again as he disappears and the carousel lights up. The closest animal to Brian is a broad-shelled turtle missing its head. So Brian takes his turn on the carousel, grumpy faced sitting on the back of a headless turtle.
The carousel revolves pleasantly enough, and spins around a few times before coming to a halt. A baby rattle filled with teeth drops out of the shell he's sitting on, and once Brian steps off the ride, it disappears into the sky, sucked away into the darkness and leaving behind the rattle.
While Charlie watches the carousel revolving, he sees glimpses of that looming figure on the other side of the carousel. Once the ride disappears, the man is gone as well. You hear that familiar Halloween piano riff once he's gone.
Your group is being hunted and you should expect that you'll have to deal with him once you get down into either the town or the circus.
As the dulcet sounds of Enya flow from Terry's Walkman, Brian can't help but snark "Enya? Really?"
"That's Miss Ní Bhraonáin to you," Terry retorts, with the overly-precise and slightly-too-casual pronunciation that suggests someone spent a lot of time practicing how to pronounce the Gaelic.
He turns the volume down, and replaces the headphones.
"I have been an Agent for less than a week," Terry says. "The thing with the Lovecraft happened before we were Agents. It was when our pod met each other and Abby and Baruchiel and Fenwick and it was also the thing where Fenwick was translated away. There was a gate that had to be closed from the other side, and it was intense and felt like I was having a psychotic break."
Terry shakes his head. "It did convince me that you good work here. I thought about it for a while before I redeemed that golden ticket."
"Neither of us want to see you in here because you lost your mind."
Terry nods. "Going buddy system is probably safer. I will take you up on that, Zaika--"
A thought occurs to Terry. "...as soon as I get the hang of translating." He turns to Aleph. "I haven't tried it solo yet. I'm still a bit shaken by my visit to Ardeyn. Hoping to center myself a bit more first."
Terry takes a deep breath, holds it, lets it out.
"As much as I'm slightly miffed about the anachronism of having Orinoco Flow in this clearly '80s milieu, I don't think I'd give up the experience winning a fight while blasting Enya," Charlie says thoughtfully. "I'd be willing to bet she's an actual elf. I'm going to ask when we get back to the Estate."
The town and the circus loom in the distance. As you were so rudely ejected from the mansion, it's fairly safe to assume that none of the teens were stuck there. A wolf howls in the distance, and looking upwards, you see a blood-red full moon hanging above you in a starless sky.
Terry shakes his head. "It did convince me that you good work here. I thought about it for a while before I redeemed that golden ticket."
Aleph nods, and Zaika looks mollified.
"It's easy to think that nothing we do really matters unless it's on Earth, or in Ruk…" Aleph starts.
"Or Ardeyn," Zaika adds firmly.
"Or Ardeyn," Aleph concedes gently, "but anyone we help, any problem we solve in a recursion is basically a way of patching up holes in the defense of reality. Earth's got a very thick wall around it, but assuming it'll stay that way without work is foolish at best, reality-wrecking at worst."
"We're glad to have you on board, is what I think he's trying to say." Zaika says to Terry, giving him a smile that crinkles her nose and corners of her eyes.
"I haven't tried it solo yet. I'm still a bit shaken by my visit to Ardeyn. Hoping to center myself a bit more first.
"Looks like you already took a class with Aleph, I see!" Zaika says approvingly. "He's a master meditator."
"That is something else to consider," Aleph says to Terry. "Translating alone can take, well… most of a day. Especially if it's somewhere you've never been before. It's one thing to talk about it in a classroom, but another to try it out for yourself only to be frustrated that you haven't moved after five hours. Just something to keep in mind."
"Do you have any idea the longest amount of time it's taken someone to translate?" Zaika asks Aleph. He looks thoughtful.
"I have no idea what the record might be, so to speak, but for personal experience, I knew an Agent who tried translating on his own and it took him 20 hours total. Two different failed attempts, a nap, and then he ended up in the wrong place anyway. I don't think he ever went anywhere alone again."
Kari watches the carousel retreat back into nowhere for the third time, "Creepy but repetitive. Really gives the limited options of a board game..."
The larger than life carnival barker's voice responds to Kari's casual observation. The last signs of the carousel disappear into the sky with a little orange twinkle.
Upon the thunderous roll of her dice, the four of you hear the voices of children floating up from the path leading from the town to the mansion. And moments later, a group of seven children wearing Halloween masks and holding pumpkins appear, giving form to the voices.
They stop when they see you. Or more specifically, when they see Kari. They walk forward, stopping a few feet away.
"Trick or treat!" They say in chorus. Their hands are ghoulish green, all knobby knuckles and skin flaking away from them. Around the masks, you see lank, lifeless hair and similarly green skin at their throats.
Kari looks at the ghoulish kids, her shoulders slump, "Why don't you all run along home?"
A half smile, then a sing-song, ""Allamaraine, count to four, Allamaraine, then three more, Allamaraine, if you can see..."
"The tunes do what the tunes want," Terry grumbles.
"That's another thing that I don't entirely understand," Terry says. "Recursions can be based on fiction, but it's not as though they are fiction, right? Things that happen there happen."
He gestures at the infirmary desk. "Otherwise we wouldn't need to be stitched together after. Is there a reason people -- some people -- talk about recursions as though they aren't real? I mean ... a reason other than...."
Terry thinks for a moment, then chuckles. "Learned this word from a different ex-. Solipsism. Nothing outside of you personally being real. That seems like it would be dangerous for someone in this line of work. Or an absolute survival skill. I'm not sure which."
"Sorry to get heavy, but your comments about Earth and Ruk and Ardeyn brought it to mind."
Terry thinks again, scrunching up his face. "Personally, I am on Team If It Happened To Me It's Real And If It Happened To You It's Real To You."
The 'kid' in the lead of the group tilts his head, mimicking the tone of Kari's voice with an eerie accuracy, "Allamaraine, allamaraine!" The kids all giggle, seeming to enjoy the sound of the word. They are not, unfortunately, discouraged from moving closer to you.
"Tricks or treats?"
Aleph and Zaika both nod in agreement after Terry finishes speaking.
"There are some… conditions, that don't travel between recursions. Since you're inhabiting a different body entirely. But there are mental effects that travel with recursors, like what happened with Fenwick. So yes, although recursions are fictional, when you visit them… so are you, in a way, and there's no way to separate fiction from reality when you're in it." Aleph leans against the counter. "And sometimes, a particularly traumatic physical injury experienced in a recursion can cause mental trauma, too, when the person translates into a new body."
"Solipsism is a good word, by the way. And very dangerous for people in this line of work," Zaika says with a nod. "Recursors can still die within the confines of a recursion. And there are very few recursions out there in which that death is not permanent."
"A lot of the more experienced Agents kind of tend to take two paths. Either they become jaded, having lived through a lot of bad experiences and coming away with this sense that they're invincible, or they become overly cautious, looking for danger around every corner."
Kari doesn't quite look away from the kids, but one hand digs around the puke green messenger bag to see what the jerky snacks in her bag turned into.
Regardless of what horrible things they have turned into, she nods seriously, "Gotta be the best treats, right?" She holds out what she found, fist closed, "Take the treat and avoid the nasty tricks we might have up our sleeves." In her sleeveless blouse.
overwhelming. I think I ended up accidentally starving myself for a few days when I first joined. I couldn't make a choice, everything sounded good, but what if I ate something and immediately saw a better option?"
Kari nods, "I had that overload when I first walked into my bathroom, just the sheer number of options that you're supposed to pick through." A little laugh, "The Estate did parse it down on request." The laugh doesn't quite hide the discomfort Kari has in recalling the memory, but it is a passing thought.
Can I get you anything to drink?"
"Thanks, Dia." Kari meets the other woman's eyes, "Carbonated water, lots of lemon, no sweetener. Thank you."
"And much better company." He ducks his head a little, then coughs, as though to move quickly past the compliment.
Kari looks back over the top of her menu, smiling at the compliment, "Lies," she says, "I'm sure you are good at finding good company, but thank you for the compliment."
"Did you travel much, before getting thrown into all of this?" He gestures at the fractal sky above them.
Kari looks up, lost for a moment in the shifting, but she shakes her head. "Flew down to visit my mom with her new family once but never had the money to travel before. Now not only the world is my oyster but all the worlds." She purses her lips, "Although the ones where most of the people don't have free agency don't actually sound that enjoyable."
She leans forward, the menu still there but forgotten, "France was after you became an Agent? Did you travel much on Ruk before?"
Terry jams his hands firmly into his pockets and adopts the classic slouching teen pose.
"There are some... conditions, that don't travel between recursions. ... So yes, although recursions are fictional, when you visit them… so are you
Terry frowns at Aleph. ”I don’t like the sound of that. Aren’t you from Ruk? You don’t seem fictional to me. Nor does Baruchiel, although I admit, she is improbable.”
Terry holds up a finger, then puts it away. ”…and conditions sounds like a euphemism for something that I eventually need to know about, but we can leave that for later. There are some dangerous ideas in what you just said.”
Terry continues to frown, but is no longer frowning at Aleph. ”I still have trouble wrapping my mind around the whole different body thing. It’s not this body, changed -- but a different one that goes away. And this body,” Terry taps his chest, ”not being the same as my Earth body.”
Terry shakes his head, no longer frowning, just looking a little sad and a little lost. ”It’s a lot.”
Charlie keeps his hand on the coiled whip at his belt, but doesn't go for it yet.
Brian simply leans on his staff as if for support from a tiring night of trick-or-treating.
What Kari found was a fistful of exactly what the ghoulish children wanted. They jump up and down, holding their pumpkins out. Regardless of what was actually in her bag, she has one piece of candy for each of the kids.
"Allamaraine, allamaraine!" They chant.
"Thanks, nice lady. We're gonna go trick or treat at the big house now." The lead one croaks, pulling aside his ghost mask to reveal a skull underneath it. You get a sense that he's winked at you all before replacing the mask, and they navigate around your group to head towards the mansion. They disappear on the doorstep of the Witch's home, and you hear an echo-y "Trick or Treat!" once they're gone.
On the ground, another foil wrapped chocolate key for Kari.
Both Terry's and Charlie's rolls are uneventful; nothing more than the thunderous dice rolling through the sky above you. Business as usual!
You find that the choice to move towards the town has been made for you; your surroundings shift and blur. You stand at a minor crossroads, by way of the beat up old wooden sign before you that points left - The Midnight Circus, and right - The Town of Halloween.
This much closer to both locations, you see a lot more of the details of the town. The roads are a strange mix of cobblestone and blacktop in uneven patches. The homes are mixed, some styles are timeless cottages, others were clearly built in the 70s or 80s. Silhouettes move in the curtain-covered windows, and every porch has a glowing pumpkin on it.
In your peripherals, you see shadowy shapes moving between buildings and disappearing. Occasional screams, door slams, and witch cackles come and go like a horrible background soundtrack for your adventure. This is, truly, Halloween.
Aleph laughs. "I turned off my bathroom choices too. I figure I can hit the spa if I want to be pampered, but I only need like… three choices in my bathroom, thanks."
Dia gives Kari a warm smile before turning away to grab their drinks. It's only a minute or two before she returns with them, telling Kari that Dia has access to that same "instant" drink and food function that exists everywhere else in the Estate. But the water is as sparkly as Kari could hope for, heavy on the lemon. Aleph gives a contented sigh when he sips his sparkling lemonade.
"Thanks, Dia. I think we might need a few minutes to look over food?" Aleph asks, turning to Kari to confirm.
"Lies," she says, "I'm sure you are good at finding good company, but thank you for the compliment."
He laughs. "I'm being serious. There are plenty of people at the Estate I love chatting with, and a few I'd call friends. But… well, most of my work keeps me here, and so I don't tend to make the same sorts of connections as the folks who are getting out into field operations and all that. It's not a bad thing," he says quickly, "but most Agents on site tend to interact with me most for medical reasons, and those aren't particularly, ah… romantic. And I wouldn't want them to be. That's a weird power dynamic I don't want to take advantage of."
"Flew down to visit my mom with her new family once but never had the money to travel before. Now not only the world is my oyster but all the worlds." She purses her lips, "Although the ones where most of the people don't have free agency don't actually sound that enjoyable."
He nods at that. "I've heard a lot of Agents have to treat those recursions like video games. That the work they're doing is important for bigger reasons, and accepting that the people they're helping will often times not remember they were ever helped at all. And I've had to counsel more than a few Agents struggling with the same problem you just mentioned. Entering a recursion, dealing with a person who won't remember you once you leave? Who can't really deviate from a script they've been written into? It can be challenging."
He sips his drink. "Are you still in touch with your mom, since you came here?" He asks gently, in case the topic is a sensitive one.
"France was after you became an Agent? Did you travel much on Ruk before?"
"Oh yes, I traveled all over Ruk before I joined the Estate." A fond look crosses his face. "It's not very big, geographically speaking, but there's a lot to see. The main city, Harmonious, is absolutely packed top to bottom with little shops, hole in the wall restaurants, and labs. There are a few other communities outside of that, like the Hub, or Periphery. There's a region where Ruk gets its biomass for food creation called grey forests, where these giant fungi grow. That's probably the closest Ruk has to a natural park. Oh, and the Spar jungles, I think those were formed when the ship crashed…" he grows more animated the longer he goes on, but then he stops abruptly, looking a little embarrassed.
"I'm sorry, you weren't asking for a geographical lesson. Yes, I traveled a lot on Ruk. But once I visited Earth… I realized how truly small Ruk is. Small, and with none of the charm of riverside cafes and tree lined parks."
”I don’t like the sound of that. Aren’t you from Ruk? You don’t seem fictional to me. Nor does Baruchiel, although I admit, she is improbable."
Once Terry gets through what he's saying, Aleph straightens and puts a companionable hand on his shoulder. It's just a brief touch before he pulls it back.
"I wish we could tell you anything to ease your mind in this," he says, glancing back at Zaika, who moves around the counter she was standing behind to be a little closer to the conversation. She's got a medic's look of almost-concern on her face.
"I'm from Ruk, and she's from Ardeyn. They are, basically, fictional worlds. But we have the Spark, which makes us more than that. Baruchiel, too, though… yes, she is improbable." He smiles at that.
"I think the idea of translating into different bodies is hard, and even harder if you are the type to firmly believe that there's no purpose in the universe. I think Aleph and I both have counseled several staunch athiests who came to the Estate and couldn't handle the implications of the Spark, consciousness, and soul." Zaika says. "What helped me was to imagine that there is always me, the Spark of consciousness, and if I translate, I'm just… changing outfits."
She winces a little at her own description. "I don't know if simplifying it like that would make it easier or worse for you, but I struggled quite a bit with it when I first translated." She looks at Terry seriously. "Doing what you're doing now is the best way to combat that sort of… cosmic dread that comes with being exposed to the Strange."
"Look at that. You came to us for a friendly chat, and you're probably leaving with an identity crisis. Are we bad at our jobs?" Aleph jokes, trying to bring some levity back into the conversation.
"What do you think? The Circus or the Town?"
After Brian's roll, the carnival barker appears sans carousel.
"This is for you," he says, handing Brian an item wrapped in black paper with bright orange pumpkins all over it. Once Brian accepts the gift, the barker disappears in a puff of purple smoke.
If Brian opens the gift, he finds a cypher in the packaging - a reward for 'riding' the carousel.
It's a brightly painted clown horn, the kind that makes that loud "SQUEEKA SQUEEKA" noise when used. If Brian uses the cypher, it will disorient an enemy for one round within hearing range of the horn.
He is not obligated to accept or use the cypher, and it can be given to his companions instead if he'd prefer.
"What do you think? The Circus or the Town?"
"Either way, we're being hunted. We're going to have to face the final boss of this whole thing... so the decision comes down to how everyone feels about clowns."
"What do you think? The Circus or the Town?""Either way, we're being hunted. We're going to have to face the final boss of this whole thing... so the decision comes down to how everyone feels about clowns."
"It style clowns or Tw..." Kari shakes her head, "Just nope, clowns are going to be horrible in this world. That said, I think Terry is right and the kids would have gone towards the circus."
"Either way, we're being hunted. We're going to have to face the final boss of this whole thing... so the decision comes down to how everyone feels about clowns."
Terry digs into his pocket and pulls out a cassette case with a long list of hand-written songs and flips through it. "Clowns?" he says, "I've got tunes for that."
"I'll be fine."
Terry rubs his temples. "Sorry, the thing where people treat other people like they don't matter -- I have a big button there."
"I'm not much of a hugger, but you are welcome to give me a friendly hand on the shoulder or pat on the back, or whatever," Terry says. He points to himself. "Pro-contact."
"Look at that. You came to us for a friendly chat, and you're probably leaving with an identity crisis. Are we bad at our jobs?" Aleph jokes, trying to bring some levity back into the conversation.
Terry grins at Aleph's levity. "Nah, it's fine. I came here with an identity crisis already, and I'm leaving with a slightly-different one. I trust you two. You're professionals." He winks. It's entirely unclear which of the two he is winking at.
"To bring us back to the front, was there any music or musicals for this Harry Potter thing you mentioned?" he asks Zaika. "I'm willing to give it a try, but music is usually my way in to things."
Brian opens up his parcel. He looks at what's in it and smiles. He absolutely does not giggle. Teenaged boys do not giggle.
"Here, Kari, I think this is right up your alley," he says. He hands her a cypher in the form of a brightly painted clown horn, the kind that makes that loud "SQUEEKA SQUEEKA" noise when used.
The sound of dice rolling through the sky is only slightly dampened here with the noise of the town and circus much closer to your ears.
Zaika steps forward to give Terry a very overexaggerated pat on the shoulder.
"Well, you're in good company with us, then. We both care very much about making sure people feel like they matter. Because they do." She says.
"To bring us back to the front, was there any music or musicals for this Harry Potter thing you mentioned?" he asks Zaika. "I'm willing to give it a try, but music is usually my way in to things."
They might be the only three people in any world, Prime or otherwise, that don't have a good handle on this 'Harry Potter' thing. Zaika and Aleph look at each other and shrug.
"I feel like there's a musical for Harry Potter that I heard or read about somewhere, but it wasn't exactly written in a positive light, either." Aleph says, chewing on his lip thoughtfully.
"Godric's Hollow Graveyard." Zaika says. Aleph looks at her in surprise, and she laughs. "I haven't read the books, or seen the movies… but I've listened to the soundtracks. They give you a great ride even if you don't know what the surroundings are." She looks to Terry again. "That one is a little… melancholy. Near the end of the series. 'The Arrival of Baby Harry' is start of journey, upbeat, before all the bad stuff happens. I think."
Terry looks up at the sky every time he hears the dice roll.
Terry takes a moment and notes it on his tablet.
"So do you do much field work, or are you mostly here in case of need?"
Terry settles into a comfortable counter lean.
"Wait -- is this shift change? Am I stopping one of you from heading out?"
Perception (trained)
Game roll
"Here, Kari, I think this is right up your alley," he says. He hands her a cypher in the form of a brightly painted clown horn, the kind that makes that loud "SQUEEKA SQUEEKA" noise when used.
Charlie snorts a laugh.
The sound of dice rolling through the sky is only slightly dampened here with the noise of the town and circus much closer to your ears.
"Here's your problem," Charlie murmurs to himself. "Someone set this thing to evil."
"Here, Kari, I think this is right up your alley," he says. He hands her a cypher in the form of a brightly painted clown horn, the kind that makes that loud "SQUEEKA SQUEEKA" noise when used.
Kari takes the horn, "Useful but," she looks at the horn, "just creepy." She giggles, stops abruptly, "Tools of the clown to fight the clown."
"Of course there is a spa too." Kari shakes her head, but it clearly isn't something she's looked into.
"Thanks, Dia. I think we might need a few minutes to look over food?" Aleph asks, turning to Kari to confirm.
She starts to nod, then stops with a smile, "Dia? Is there an actual chef who likes making food or is it where the Estate provides a finished product?"
That's a weird power dynamic I don't want to take advantage of.
Kari thinks about that and nods with a wince, "I'm glad I barged into your life in a non-standard way. Even if you end up needing to patch me up, it won't be the base of how we got to know each other."
"I'm sorry, you weren't asking for a geographical lesson. Yes, I traveled a lot on Ruk. But once I visited Earth… I realized how truly small Ruk is. Small, and with none of the charm of riverside cafes and tree lined parks."
Kari had been listening, but she laughs low, "Not a geography lesson, your home. Or at least one-upon-home. It's good to hear you haven't lost your affection for it with the whole wide 'verse to see." At some point she had brought her legs up to sit cross legged on the chair, which makes it easier for her to lean forward, engaged in the conversation, "I heard Ruk was a near perfect match for Earth in the beginning, so I'm surprised that it is smaller. I have this image of it as a mash-up of Robo-Tech and Shadowrun, but I have a feeling it won't be anything quite that I expect when I get to go there."
"I'm really hoping there is at least one techno version of the ramen shops I've read about in Earth's Tokyo."
He sips his drink. "Are you still in touch with your mom, since you came here?" He asks gently, in case the topic is a sensitive one.
Kari smiles a little with a nod. "I've left my cell active so she can reach me that way and we send emails once a month or so. It isn't that we don't love each other, because we do, her life just moved on and she has a new husband, new family. They love me too, but I'm," she pauses trying to explain the odd balance, "periphery. A reminder that Mom had another life before her current one."
Cautiously, "Do you still keep in touch with your family?"
As Terry makes his roll for Halloween, Brian leans against his staff, looking around with disdain at the creepy world he's found himself in.
Everyone else but Brian notices what Terry's dice has summoned directly behind him. And a very familiar piece of music begins to play…
A tall figure appears from a shadow that couldn't possibly have hidden a man moments before it, and he plunges his knife straight into the unsuspecting and unprotected shoulder in front of him.
Terry finally unholsters his gun, and shoots at the masked figure.
"Aaargh!!" cries out Brian, as the knife twists in his shoulders.
Initiative
Charlie unfurls the whip and cracks it right at the Shatnerian face of Michael Myers.
possible defense roll?
Much too late to do any good, Kari bolts towards the knife-wielding man, using the flashlight as a club to knock the knife out of his hands. "F*!+ damn it." She does attempt to get Brian some space by putting her own body there. Please kill it quick?"
She does manage to knock his arm away from his intended target, and he turns his attention to her. His silent, intense attention.
Terry finally unholsters his gun, and shoots at the masked figure. Whether it's because of the unexpected nature of Michael Meyers' appearance, or because he's often times impervious to bullets… Terry's shot goes wild.
Charlie unfurls the whip and cracks it right at the Shatnerian face of Michael Myers. He seems uninterested in the attack, as it doesn't quite hit its mark, and it's not nearly as interesting as the young woman holding the flashlight is at the moment.
He lazily brings his knife down towards his new target, catching Kari in the meaty part of her shoulder.
Aleph waves a hand to dismiss Terry's concern.
"It is a shift change, but it's not like I'm going straight to bed. I can manage an interesting conversation before I leave." He punctuates this with a yawn, lifting his hand in front of his mouth. "If you're going somewhere in particular, I can walk there with you."
"And leave me all alone? How rude." Zaika teases. Then she says - "There are a few other people who help out here too, but usually Aleph and I are on site for teaching or infirmary work."
"I'm due a vacation though, to be honest. I think we both are."
Zaika nods eagerly when Aleph mentions a vacation.
"I think the last time I took a real vacation was… last year?" She looks startled. "Ye gods, it's been too long."
"I go out for a couple of field ops every now and again, if a pod needs someone to fill in, or there's something going on that requires all hands on deck. And every now and again, there are missions that really call to me."
"Of course there is a spa too." Kari shakes her head, but it clearly isn't something she's looked into.
Aleph smiles sympathetically. "There's probably one of everything here. The Estate was definitely meant to be a home away from home for Agents, providing them as cushy a life as possible, considering how dangerous their missions can be."
"Dia? Is there an actual chef who likes making food or is it where the Estate provides a finished product?"
"Oh, you know, for the most part it's the Estate providing." She gives the response a lofty, almost religious grandiosity and lifts her hands to the Strange sky above you. She chuckles, looking back to Kari. "There are chefs onsite who cook for special events, or if people on site request it specifically, that can be accommodated for too."
Dia gestures to the menus in front of Kari and Aleph. "Here, specifically, we do have a chef that cooks all of this. That's why the menu is so much shorter than anywhere else. They can get ingredients delivered immediately, but they do the rest by hand." She hesitates. "Most of the drinks are Estate made, but if you order cocktails, I'll make those by hand, too. I'm super into barcrafting. I work at the tavern too for specifically that reason."
"I'm glad I barged into your life in a non-standard way. Even if you end up needing to patch me up, it won't be the base of how we got to know each other."
Aleph smiles. "Me, too." He says gently. "I hope I don't need to patch you up. The injuries I tend to attend to, well… it would be a bad time for both of us."
"I heard Ruk was a near perfect match for Earth in the beginning, so I'm surprised that it is smaller. I have this image of it as a mash-up of Robo-Tech and Shadowrun, but I have a feeling it won't be anything quite that I expect when I get to go there."
"I'm really hoping there is at least one techno version of the ramen shops I've read about in Earth's Tokyo."
Although Aleph hasn't mimicked the legs-crossed posture, he has also leaned forward, resting an arm on the table, on top of the menu he's given up looking at.
"Ruk was… is? Was. A spaceship to escape a world. Now, we look like humans, but the going theory is that our ancestors genetically modified and tailored themselves to look more like the Prime world members they were sheltering near. So it's big, but it's not Earth big. Cluttered. I want to show you something, if you don't mind?" He says, pulling out his tablet.
He pulls up a picture taken from the edge of Harmonious. Towers jut upwards into the sky, a glittering buffet for the eyes of neon lights and silver and gold extravagance. Transparent glass tubes connect buildings, and Kari can just barely make out silhouettes of people walking through them. There are flying craft everywhere, and she's pretty sure she can make out people flying as well, with neon-lit wings.
He puts his tablet away again, apologizing for the technological interruption to the conversation.
"There are as many techno versions of ramen shops as would delight you. There's an Agent, or… well, we're not sure where he is," he looks concerned for just a moment before moving past a potentially unpleasant conversation, "he's a real ramen lover. I am too, but wow… Riku knew his ramen locations. Kept a diary specifically of the best places to visit for ambiance, for taste, for location, for service, all of it. I went with him a few times a while back. So for me, personally…" he tilts his head, "well, I can't give away all my secrets. Now that I know you're interested, I know just the place to take you. If you're interested in going with me, I mean." He adds, blushing slightly.
After Kari talks about her family, Aleph nods along.
"Family is a complex thing. It sounds like you're comfortable with the relationship you have with your mother and your extended family? Do you still speak with your father?" He asks this last question with caution as well. "And I'm sure you know this, but you can tell me to buzz off if I ask something you're not wanting to answer."
He smiles at her question about family. "It's a little different in Ruk than on Earth, as far as family is concerned. Children are raised communally, and maybe half of us are born in artificial wombs. I was one such baby. So… yes, I do keep in touch with the community that raised me, but it's not a close relationship. I sometimes wish I'd been born on Earth, so I could have had siblings to argue with, a dad to learn from, a mother, so I could have enjoyed a specific meal cooked just for a birthday. All of that. I had love, but it's definitely different. I was identified young as someone with a particular talent for healing, so I was conscripted around… eight or nine years old? To work for the Quiet Cabal and heal their soldiers."
Since his track record with the staff here in Hallowe'en isn't great, Brian decided to try something different. He pulls the miniature disco ball out of his pocket and hurls it at the knife-weilding maniac.
Possible defense
"Someone remind me, was this one of the killers that doesn't actually die, just goes away?" Kari says as blood soaks her shirt a new shade of red.
Edit: Not that Michael is likely a CR 4.
Edit: Because I'll probably need it.
"I never watched this movie. Do I have to shoot his mask off or something?"
Terry shoots at the silent figure. "I'm not sure this is helping," he says.
"I was going somewhere in particular -- here," Terry says. "I like to know my worst-case scenarios, and I thought this would be a good place to ask."
He makes a shooing motion with his hands. "But I think we had enough heavy talk for right now."
He looks at Aleph, grins, and shakes his head. "Don't let me keep you from getting home and getting some sleep. You never know when a random newbie will knock at your door."
He looks at Zaika, grins, and shakes his head again. "Don't let me keep you from doing..." He waves a hand in a large circle, indicating everything. "...infirmary stuff. If work needs to happen, say the word, and I'll go."
Terry laughs. "I can take hints if they're blunt enough."
"I remember lots of yelling. Lots of bullets doing nothing. Lots of thinking he's dead just to have him start stabbing again in the next scene of movie." A pause, "They aren't movies I've watch often or recently."
"So are we doing the thing that makes the audience yell at the actors?"
"Michael isn't like Jason or Freddy," Charlie says, his voice quavering. "He's still human...sort of. You can't really kill him, but you can injure him. You can make him retreat." He winces. "Unless fanfic's made some of the subtext in the Thorn Trilogy into text."
"He has a name? Is he a person we can reason with?"
Terry is clearly unsure on the whole concept.
"As opposed to the guy with the music that sounds like heavy breathing?"