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 Posted: Sun Jan 04, 2015 10:58 pm
The room was dark, and had the bottled smell of age to it, a sawdust musk that lingered in the rafters of attics and in the doorways of abandoned buildings. The walls had an echo to them that suggested a fairly large space, but besides the space cleaned for their captive, the floor was littered with things that, when touched, shuffled and scraped against the dusty floor, clattering and then silence. Something feels like the brush of fingers, but too stiff, too cold, not the right texture.
To the unaccustomed eye, the only things to be seen initially were swirling motes of dust, still drifting through the air after being so recently disturbed, or perhaps it's a trick of the eye, the brain processing static in the attempt to understand anything at all. But after only a few moments of peering into nothing, shapes begin to take form, imagined or not, melting down to silhouettes. At first it seemed like a single figure, slumped shoulders and standing limply, but a careful examination reveals the figure is not standing at all, but...floating? As it came into focus, little details started to show themselves, the ball-jointed limbs, spoolfuls of yarn-made hair accented with cobwebs. This figure in particular was missing an arm, shorn at the segmented elbow, but the painted face that came into clarity was one of open-mouth exuberance, the eyes drawn into crinkles and the dimples sharpened like knives. The first display was closest, but there were others suspended and faded, numbers upon numbers of life-size puppets stretching into the edges of capable eyesight. Some were still suspended on their strings, others seated, and still more were scattered in parts on the floor. On a table near what appeared to be the door, a child-size marionette lay in pieces, its wide-eyed face twisted into fright and pleading. Years of neglect had cracked the paint on the child's face, some of the detailing of the blush in her cheeks lost to time, but the marble-set eyes were vibrant as ever, staring directly at Hvergelmir.
The door swung inwards, and it knocked at the corner of the table, sending the small doll's shoe tumbling to the floor. The officer behind the door hissed, retracting the door sharply as if it were an oyster closing it shell, and then shyly, slowly, the door curled open, letting in the light and a small woman with brown goggles, holding a battery-powered lantern.
The cold fluorescent light did no favors to the contents of the room, shining over the shared residents with an unforgiving paleness that washed out color. Some of the puppets were more complete, dancing harlequins suspended in time by fishing wire and strings, but others were naught but armature, wire skeletons with eyes and teeth and shears of fabric flesh discarded below them, stuffing pouring from their clothes like innards.
If the captain was perturbed by any of the extra guests in the room, she showed it only in the wrinkle of her eyebrows, which tilted upwards in caution as she scanned the surroundings, rubbing the dust smell from her nose. Hvergelmir had been an interesting rumor in the mouths of Negaverse officers, a self-proclaimed pacifist and a pair of open arms for any dissenter to find home. And a woman in white with a great spindle, some sort of stag for a mount, mouth shorn but eyes pleading, please, please, don't do this, come back to us--
Zircon had heard the name before, which was an easy enough juxtaposition for her nightmares, but she had never seen the face. She'd been hoping to prove to herself that this Hvergelmir was a stranger, crafted by her mind to haunt her for her misgivings and her flaws. Based on the thin set of her lips, it seemed she hadn't found what she was looking for. Surely, the pallor to her face was only on account of the light.
"...I'm going to start with a few questions," Zircon croaked, her throat dry but the words well-rehearsed and stiff like the good soldier she was. "First, with your name. You are Hvergelmir, Knight of the Cosmos. Is this correct?" The name of the woman's wonder flowed like poetry, familiar in a way that made Zircon's nose scrunch. It shouldn't have felt so familiar.Shazari I hope this is okay! Let me know if I can change anything for you. <3
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 9:04 am
The world came back into focus not out of a soft blur, but out of a wide spin, like sitting on a turntable that had slowed to a stop. Hvergelmir opened her eyes into darkness. It was odd, she had to admit, to be opening her eyes at all, after the way she'd gone down -- but for a few moments, she hoped that meant that she'd been rescued, that any moment she'd start noticing the features of a hospital bed or soemthing, or hear Kairatos's concerned voice calling her name . . . Alas not. Instead, the darkness resolved itself into shapes. Bodies. She let out a high, sharp scream, thinking at first that she was surrounded by corpses -- but after a few seconds of panic, a closer inspection of the silhouettes in the dark allayed her fears. These were dolls. Puppets. Many of them half-finished. She waited in the dark for some time, testing her bonds. Metal, she supposed. Heavy. Very sturdy. Other than that, there was little else to do. Hvergelmir wasn't sure how much time had passed, only that it had been a while, when finally the door opened. There was a quite thump, then a noise of something falling, and the door closed a little -- then it reopened again to admit a young-looking woman, close to average height, carrying a lantern in hand. She had a familiar face. A face she knew from lost memories of a far-off time, pale beneath paler hair. A friend, for a while, and then a lost friend once more. "Zoji La," she said quietly -- but with the faintest breath of self-satisfaction, like she'd figured out a particularly difficult clue on a crossword puzzle. I remember you.AMItotic I looooved your start, no changes <3
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 9:44 am
Zoji La.
Three syllables hit the captain harder than a ton of bricks, falling through her throat and settling as a dark pit of dread in the center of her chest. Zircon inhaled sharply through her nose, her curled fingers clenching around the handle of the lantern as if it were her only ward against madness, but she did not lose her ground, refused to turn from the gilded terror before her. Her expression finally settling to grim, she kept watch on Hvergelmir as she set down the lantern and reached behind her for the worktable's chair.
It came loose with a groan as the legs scratched against the floor, but it also knocked free a cascade of doll parts that clattered to the floor. One of the torsos had apparently been outfitted with a music box of sorts, and with the sudden fall the machinations clicked into place and jumped into life, shearing the relative silence with sudden and ominous carnival song.
Zircon managed not to scream, but she spun on her heels and batted at the doll parts so hard that the torso flew all away across the room to the opposite room, the wood splintering and gears flying wild as it ended its song with an unfortunate wheeze. Eyes wide, she slowly released the tension of her neck, her shoulders, and her back, sliding the chair the rest of the way forward with a bit more caution. She sat in it primly, with her ankles crossed and her posture tall, but with one hand she idly picked at her cuticles, a soft tick of a scratch that continued to permeate the room.
"I don't know what that is," Zircon finally whispered, her eyes winced and unsure--hot sands, rush of wind, cinnamon and cardamom, it feels like I could be flying--"But I'm going to assume that you confirm your identity as Hvergelmir."
She leaned forward in her seat, putting her hands on her knees. "As a Knight of Cosmos, what can you tell me about the supposed increase in your liege lady's activity?" There were nags of more personal, more pressing questions, but Zircon bit them down with a pained purse of her lips. After all, if she vocalized her concerns, that would make them real, and these nightmares were just that. Somehow the Knight had learned her secret fears, that was all. Perhaps it was some form of magic she didn't understand.
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 12:07 pm
She doesn't remember. That hurt. That was one of the worse consequences of the future memories -- sometimes people didn't remember them, didn't feel the same way she did. To Zoji -- to Zircon, she corrected -- Hvergelmir was just a stranger. Just a knight chained to a chair in a little black room, ruined hair hanging loose around her face. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. Zoji La, who'd been stolen by the Negaverse before she'd ever had a chance -- who'd crossed the aisle of her own free will, when it had been the right thing to do -- and who'd been sweet and a little awkward and who'd only been theirs for a while, for such a short, short while, before the Negaverse had ripped her away again. It wasn't right for Zoji to be here, not when she deserved so much better. It made Hvergelmir a little angry. "Zoji La of Uranus," she reiterated, tired but undaunted. It was a little hard to think straight -- her energy still felt low, her limbs not just chained but sluggish -- but she held onto her train of thought. Softly, she continued, "It's a place that waits for you." Then, after a pause: "Why do you want to know about Sailor Cosmos?"
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 1:05 pm
The second calling produced a more visceral response, a tightening of her throat and an uncomfortable twitch to her fingers as her mind flickered through another reel of snapshot memories. A man of circuits, a woman in white. "Take care of my cat, won't you?" Searing, painful light. She folded her hands to cover her lips, which quivered under the pressure of all the things she wanted to say, to admit, to ask, to sob. But there was duty first, and nothing after, and Zircon had to let her personal quarrels go if she was going to get the information she needed.
"There is nothing waiting for me but a seat in Metallia's throne room when this is all done," she retorted sharply, more practiced words, more walls. Low walls, high walls, what did it matter when she ran like the wind, the sun in her hair and laughter on her tongue? "The Negaverse is interested in her activities, given that her interventions are in direct opposition of many of our goals."
"I need to know what her agenda is, where she'll be next, what she is planning," Zircon continued, keeping her voice even and steady. "As long as you cooperate and assist our cause, no harm will come to you."
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 1:36 pm
It was uncomfortable enough, sometimes, sitting in the little oasis of her park bench, knowing the people she spoke to -- people she was coming to know and understand as human beings -- often did terrible things. It was hard enough, just sitting there with them and knowing, imagining them pulling the life from another human being, fast or slow. Murdering other people. Doing all of that. What she'd always dreaded, though, was having to see it in the flesh. Having to reconcile the Titan who brought her coffee and doughnuts with the one who swung his hammer to end lives -- things like that. The people who came to her bench were real to her; the masks they put on to do terrible things were not. To see Zoji like this -- to see a knight of Uranus, wild and free, accepting her yoke like some kind of a royal mantle -- it was unsettling. Distressing. Ugly. And are there seats in Metallia's throne room, then? Does Metallia have legs to sit? Which pile of bones is it you plan to rule over, Zoji? Whose treasures will you steal to drown your regret?"Zoji, please -- " Hvergelmir winced, shook her head, tried again. "Please. Zircon. Talk to me like a human being. This isn't you. We don't have to be like this, you can just -- Just talk to me. I don't know anything about Sailor Cosmos's agenda."
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 2:38 pm
The third call was the breaking point, the straw that broke the camel's back.
Zircon leaned forward, looking Hvergelmir directly in the eye. She inhaled, a hesitation, but she kept her expression calm nevertheless, her voice still as water and just above a murmur. "Let's get one thing straight. You don't know me. You have no concept of what 'is' or 'isn't' me. And Zoji La does not exist, in this or any other lifetime."
The captain sighed, rubbing at a thin slice of a scar on her forehead as she looked away. This was not the way she'd wanted to run things, it made her feel so...unreasonable. It made her veer from the script she'd so meticulously crafted in her mind. "You're right, it doesn't have to be like this. I would prefer to get the information I need painlessly, report in, go home, forget about all this, run a hot bath maybe," she wavered, keeping her eyes off of the Cosmos knight. "But I need results, and I won't be able to sleep until I see our mission done."
Still waters and stars, so many stars. A small island with a temple, a garden. A home long left behind, like Kairatos. Peaceful, like Hver herself.
"I believe you, so I'll give you a pass on the first question." Zircon turned her head back towards Hvergelmir, donning her professional countenance and setting up her walls once again. "We'll start with something else--there are rumors of a senshi that can't accept Chaos into their starseed, one that has strange glowing marks on their body." Rumor also had it that they'd captured the aberrant senshi in their latest venture, but Zircon hadn't had a chance to see for herself. "If you want to go home to your well and your garden, you'll tell me what you know about her."
Zircon had no sooner said the words when her heart lodged in her throat. She'd been so close to dispelling these awful nightmares from this conversation, from convincing both herself and the Knight that they'd never happened. Lips sealed, she gave a long glance at Hvergelmir, trying to read her reaction. If she was lucky, the Knight wouldn't even have noticed.
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 7:43 am
Hvergelmir's face fell. Zircon was right. This was not Zoji La -- not the Zoji La she'd known. Zoji La was not this woman, who could natter on coldly about a hot bath and a warm bed and the grand inconvenience Hvergelmir was posing to her by daring to be chained to this chair in this dollmaker's workshop. Who could sit there and ask her about Ida's transcendence, prying for information they could use against her, and act like Hvergelmir was the one who was out of line somehow. "My well and my garden," she repeated back, quietly pointed. "Of course. Are you giving me your word, then, that if I answer your questions, you'll let me leave here unmolested? Is that the offer?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 1:21 pm
Zircon stared quietly, and after a moment let out a cough to clear her throat. Something about the Knights expression made her insides squirm, like she was four years old and had gotten caught opening presents before Christmas. Who did she think she was, making her feel so small with such a minute gesture? Zircon was in charge here!
Well...sort of. "I don't have the authority to release you," she explained, folding her hands in her lap. "But I can promise not to harm you, and I can arrange for some basic amenities, food and water. I can, likewise, do the opposite if you resist."
With some feeling of control back in Zircon's hands, she began to relax, falling back on her script once again. "It doesn't need to be hard. Just tell me what you know about the senshi with the markings."
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 1:40 pm
Hvergelmir frowned, looking down at her lap. It would be better if she could fold her hands there -- it would look prim, maybe remind Zircon that she was talking to a person with a life and sorrow of her own, not an obstacle in the way of her hot bath. Alas, not an option -- each of her hands was safely hitched to the legs of the chair. "So your proposal is that you'll buy me dinner in exchange for me selling my friends out to you?" She let her implicit refusal hang in the air for a few long seconds. "We both know I'm never getting out of this room, no matter what happens. If all you have to offer me is my last meal, I'm afraid you're wasting your time."
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 3:33 pm
Zircon's eyes narrowed and her expression tightened. "We also both know that what I'm offering is kinder than anything you'd receive at the hands of any of my associates. But I understand if you'd like some time to yourself to think it over first." She closed her eyes and began to stand, ready to count this as a loss and hand off the pretty Cosmos knight to someone more capable.
What beautiful eyes, so pleading and mournful, so captivating, but those scars, those horrible scars where they'd taken everything they could--
Zircon paused, letting out a contented sigh.
"But you would already know that, wouldn't you, Hver?" Zircon purred, leaning back down to make eye contact. She had suffered so much at the hands of this White Moon Temptress, maybe the tables could be turned. Softly, fondly, she ran a thumb across each of the Knight's cheeks, converging at the woman's parched lips. "They took your tongue once for talking too much, maybe this time they'll take it for talking too little."
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 4:30 pm
Fear begged adrenaline's presence in a way that overcame tiredness -- it always could. It was the hands on her face that did it -- the fond tracing of thumbs and the sickly sweet friendly-hateful posturing -- Hvergelmir would've known who and what Zircon was talking about even without being told. She flinched backward instinctively, even with no blades threatening her well-being; her head snapped backward into the chair with an awkward thock. "Don't," she said, squirming to get away with nowhere to go, "don't touch me, just leave me alone -- ! Get away from me." She couldn't. She couldn't, she couldn't, she couldn't, not again. Not twice, not when she still remembered it, not while she still knew how long she'd bleed with her face torn open before she passed out. Not yet, at least. Please, not yet.
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 4:48 pm
Something trilled in Zircon's heart when she watched Hvergelmir squirm, a sudden levity that she had never felt before. And in that instant, Zircon beamed, a toothy grin unzipping her lips.
She was the one in control here.
"Oh, I wouldn't do it, but I've been told that I'm wasting my time here." She lifted herself away from the Knight, turning towards the door with a self-assured shrug. The captain reached for her lantern and pulled her chair away, pausing only to reach for one of the many bangles scattered on the table's surface. "I just want you to know that you chose this, that if you ever change your mind I am willing to keep open my end of the bargain." Finding a suitably shiny accessory, she pocketed it for later, to peruse the symbols at her own leisure.
"Good night, Hvergelmir," Zircon called back, a hand trailing against the door frame. "For both our sakes, please reconsider."
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