faderift | openish ☓ i see god in birds and satan in long words

Entry tags:

openish ☓ i see god in birds and satan in long words

WHO: Ilias, Max, & maybe you???
WHAT: A catch-all post for November
WHEN: Firstfall, pre-Ghislain
WHERE: Various
NOTES: Warning: dead bodies & dissection etc. in the mummy thread. Feel free to toss a wildcard starter on, or hit me up on plurk or PM if you want to hash something out! Ilias's October prompts are still roughly applicable, as are the hooks in their respective info pages.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(( feel free to use this as a launching point to start your own threads amongst yourselves too, if you like! ))

nikos + group??;

[ With an observer, is the magnanimous extent of the permission Kostos had given him.

The room he and Sidony have to set up would more accurately be called a dungeon — dank cells, an incessant drip from somewhere hopelessly inaccessible, and a few long wooden tables that have been brought in for their purposes. One, Ilias is smoothing a black cloth overtop. Another, he offers to Sidony for her tools, on the off chance she’ll feel like accepting anything he offers her today.

It’s been nearly a year since the Inquisition was invited to Nevarra, offered a rare tour of the Grand Necropolis, and caused the biggest disaster those sacred halls had seen for some time. Ilias mostly remembers reattaching a lot of limbs, afterward. Blame placed. Doors locked. Questions discouraged. But here in the Gallows is a piece of the puzzle that has not been swept so neatly out of reach. Whether it should have been is a question for another time; for the moment, it is another angle to be explored, and Ilias is qualified to explore it — but not, apparently, trusted to do so without a babysitter.

Or two. Berenike welcomes the last of their party with a teeth-rattling bang, leathery limbs hurled peevishly at the bars. The menagerie of small animals in the next cell over follow with tilted heads and too-bright eyes. Ilias just looks– puzzled, for a snatch of a second, before he returns tight-jawed to his preparations. ]

I had no idea you intended to oversee us personally.

[ What an honor. ]

caspar;

[ It’s not a quick process. At least, not if done with proper care, and Ilias is nothing if not careful with Berenike’s remains. Even if the spirit itself has been temporarily re-homed, the body, too, is something to be treated with respect. His cuts are precise, his touch gentle, his examination meticulous. Whatever caused this spirit to become aggressive, that was not respectful, and if it is something that can be stopped, Ilias would like to.

But what sections he can give to Sidony to examine, he does. There are two pairs of them, after all, one to examine and one to oversee. And Ilias seems to work easier with just one stranger looking over his shoulder, like he is demonstrating for a friend instead of performing for an audience. ]

I will admit, I did not expect to find so many Nevarrans. The Inquisition, it is not so popular at home, despite the importance of its mission.

[ So, why are you here? ]

The Inquisition and I have that in common.

[ A casual remark as he steps around to the opposite side of the makeshift table, giving Ilias space to work. It sounds light, amicable; almost like an inside joke, though his tone remains appropriately solemn.

He's seen plenty of corpses, in all sorts of states. This is different. While he hardly understands the academic interest or shares in it, he can at least approach it with a civil respect. And, perhaps ahead of all of that — this is one of Nikos' relatives. He draws his gaze away from the remains, giving Ilias a curious look. ]

But you're here, as well— was it an assignment or a choice?

[ An answer that raises more questions. Curious. Not uncharming, though. Ilias spares a glance up, bright eyed, but decides not to pry just yet. ]

A little of both. With the king's ill health, things are-- unsteady for my family, politically speaking. [ To put it mildly. ] My grandmother, she is worried about assassins.

[ Said with a little flourish of his scalpel. Ridiculous, right? ]

She would prefer me out of the country, and I would prefer to be somewhere I might be of use. So, a compromise.

Ah, well— perhaps your grandmother is right to worry.

[ Were it not for the slight smile, it'd be difficult to read as a joke; but he is smiling, which does something to undermine the straightforward, thoughtful delivery. Not that assassinations are joke material, or anything. ]

Though it is curious that she believes assassins to be restricted by borders. Still, you've clearly made yourself of use, so at least your journey has served some purpose.

[ His attention drops back towards the table, brow furrowing slightly as he considers the (respectfully) mutilated remains. ]

What is it you're hoping to find?

Disinterest, is more what I suspect she is counting on. [ A lone Fabria far from Nevarra makes for a less attractive target than one entrenched in its political heart. Or: he's not interesting enough to wade through the Inquisition to kill. At least, he doesn't think so.

But he's not unhappy to be here, all told. As for what he's looking for— ]

I am not sure what it will be. The spirit is... [ presently rattling around in its temporary animal corpse like a wasp in a jar? He winces, an amiable flash of teeth. ] Well. It is not supposed to be doing that.

Kostos believes something in the body has distressed it, but Berenike was mummified, mn, perhaps decades ago? If something was done to her, it would be more recent. Perhaps disguised beneath a repair, like this, [ Turning the withered shin in his hand to show the neat row of stitches he's removing, along the split side of a patella. Mummies bump their knees, too. ] Or showing itself in subtler ways, if the source is not so tangible.

[Having been apart from his twin for most of his life and thus spared a bulk of the mistakes that near-identical resemblance might cause, the implication of Fabria's words are slow to dawn on Nikos.

Then his blank look curdles into one he spares for dogshit found on the sole of his boot.]

Yes, well. I realized that I have nothing better to do with my time except pretend that I know what I'm doing, run up bar tabs, and fuck impulsively-- [A gesture, extravagantly sarcastic.] --so why not. Can we get this over with.

[He sulks into the room to go and lean up against a wall, arms crossed over his chest. All good intentions soured at being mistaken for his brother, he ignores his cousin and especially ignores Caspar, and instead says, offhand, to the seething mummy:] Hello, Aunt Berenike. Is everyone being kind to you?

[ The mummy presses what's left of its face between the bars with a long, dry, vaguely menacing exhale, so. Maybe that's a yes?

Of the room's more living occupants, however, Ilias takes a moment to cycle through a range of eyebrow movements before arriving at Ah. Well. There are a number of excuses he could offer — it's been ten years, they've spoken once since, Kostos didn't mention — but it seems he's already stuck his foot in it well enough. Fantastic. ]

You forgot making petty omissions, [ is what he adds to the list of Kostos's hobbies instead, neat as cake. Brother and twin are, as it happens, rather different descriptors. ] It's Nikos, yes?

If you would not mind helping keep her attention, please, [ A gesture toward the mummy, moving that way himself. ] We might relocate the spirit while Sidony finishes setting up.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

	
		OSZAR »

openish ☓ i see god in birds and satan in long words

mummy time: nikos, caspar, sidony;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject