Travelers (IC)

Riley
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"Nice to meet you, too, Thray," Riley mumbled in response. She frowned slightly when she heard a familiar sickle... thing screaming for a few seconds, closing er eyes in irritation and weariness until the screaming stopped.

Riley watched with curiosity as Thray removed his hood, which parted for his horns' sake and revealed pointed ears. His poor attempt to start a conversation made her let out a flat chuckle, amused by the attempt yet also unamused at the thought of the day, "It's fine. It has been... quite a day, though. It's amazing how much can happen in twenty-four hours." As she spoke, Riley took a hair tie from her wrist and tied up her hair; she normally braided her hair to sleep, but the thought of doing so after Legerman made her uneasy. She was not going to go into any further detail regarding the day, and instead searched for a different question, both for a topic change and to gain some sort of control of the conversation so that maybe she could avoid any questions regarding herself.

"You aren't used to this, though, right? What are you more used to for sleeping quarters?"

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Lexy
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Lexy's eyes widened when Honey opened the door, and held in her excitement until the fellow Changeling was close enough to see her, at which point she hugged Honey in response, grinning brightly and talking rather quickly and honestly not paying attention to her fluctuating volume.

"Oh I missed you guys!" She released Honey from the hug as she spoke," And Scylla's here, too? That's so awesome! I was, like, so worried when you disappeared, but honestly got a bit distracted by other people so I figured you guys had just wandered off or something but I'm glad you're here! I only got here recently, myself, but how long have you been here? Have you been here since I couldn't find you? Oh there's so much to tell you about, then, and all the rumors about everything! I can't tell you everything, though, because some of the stuff that Mr. Richards - he's the English teacher - said were kinda difficult to understand. But anyway, I'm so glad you and Scylla are here."

After speaking an entire, rushed paragraph of words, Lexy sucked in a breath of air, anxiously fiddling with a loose string on her dress collar. The girl looked like she was about to explode with excitement for a moment before calming herself down. She sheepishly added, this time with a much quieter and slower voice, "Sorry - I am just so happy and stuff. There is a lot to tell you about, though. Oh, and how are your scratches and stuff?"

Elysia
 
Elysia had opted to quietly return to a room to rest, taking a plate of food with her, consisting exclusively of vegetables, and finding she did not have anyone else staying with her. Although she would resort to eating meat out of desperation, as a last resort, she never voluntarily ate it if it could be avoided. The power to shapeshift into animals was a wonderful thing, but unlike the legends that told of shapeshifters becoming wolves and preying upon woodland fawns, Elysia had no appetite for flesh. If a shapeshifter could become a wolf, she could also become the deer. Just as she had made connections with predators such as dragons and wolves, Elysia had similarly formed friendships with deer, goats, and rabbits. Naturally, it was a disturbing, psychological issue, to eat a creature that you had once been yourself, the act feeling comparable to cannibalism.
 
Despite the amount of meat dishes that seemed to have been available for consumption, Elysia did not feel deprived in any way by what had been served. It had been over a decade since she had eaten corn, or sweet potatoes. The okra had been drowned in a sauce made from tomatoes, but even though the combination was repulsively slimy once cooked, she still ate it with relish. She could tell that none of the vegetables had been picked fresh that day, or perhaps even in the past few days, but she still did not care. She had been very hungry, and had not seen the foods of her homeland for a long time. Not a single farmer nor vendor in port cities seemed to sell them, even as Elysia, for so many years, had wandered through the dockside markets, hopeful that one day the two lands would begin a trade agreement.
 
If Elysia had been in the presence of someone with whom she felt comfortable enough to share her personal thoughts, she could have rambled for hours at length, perhaps, about how much she missed home, or about how much she loved sweet potatoes, both the orange color of the root and their taste. She could have reminisced about rows upon rows of corn, the blistering heat and humidity of summer, and the pain of being scratched by thorns as she went out to pick blackberries. She might have wept at the thought of the boggy, insect-ridden marshes, and the pestering whine of mosquitoes. Even the most horrible memories, places and situations that she had once complained loudly about as a child, would have been welcome to how things were now…
 
 
…Goodness, what did Elysia have now? She was considered a wanted criminal, and was a rogue mage with evil intentions in the eyes of society. Silence did not buy her mercy, and being outspoken did not help, either. If she was not regarded as a liar, the ones she would plead with for help who did believe would turn their backs on her, either because of what she did for the sake of escaping her pursuers, or because they were cowards who knew nobody would punish them for it. She was only a criminal, a mage who had misused her magic, and nobody was obligated, not by the law, nor by their own twisted moral excuses, to help her.
 
Elysia had long-since given up trying to make herself into anything better in the eyes of others. Even when she tried, she did something wrong, and now that she had given people something negative to focus on, they would ignore anything that Elysia did to change their minds. That was how people worked, you gave them something they would never forgive you for, even if you begged and pleaded. There was no point even trying to plead for mercy. There was no mercy, not for the person Elysia had hurt, nor for Elysia herself. The world did not have enough mercy, even though people applauded it so much.
 
Elysia did not deserve mercy, anyway. From the beginning, even before she did anything wrong, she never deserved anything good from the world. She was a freak, a human born with inherent magical powers, a dangerous being and a resource to be used however people saw fit. She existed to be exploited, and when she no longer voluntarily allowed it, when they made her their scapegoat, they would do anything to retrieve her and make her into their precious specimen for study. There was no love for the person, only what she could do. There was no respect for her as a human, or even as a living thing.
 
As soon as the positive memories had appeared, the devil in Elysia’s thoughts ate up all the good things she might have felt, and her meal, which had filled her with sentimental joy moments before, became like ashes in her mouth. The more she dwelled on the past, the more she lamented her own situation, and the more the little voice in the back of her mind taunted her. Nothing had been done wrong, in the beginning, but completely blameless, she had been pulled into things and she was far too gone now.
 
Laws, society?
 
What justice?
 
Elysia could not enjoy any sort of happiness, because the moment she thought about what she used to have, she also remembered the harsh reality of where she was, currently. She knew when she was doing something wrong, but she had done it so many times already. Why was it wrong, when some of those very same things had done to her? People justified it, after all, it was okay to hurt the shapeshifter, because she had done something evil, and she was dangerous and had killed and maimed people. She was a magical beast, not a human, according to the law. You could hunt shapeshifters like quarry, free of punishment, the same as wild game or fur-bearing creatures. Break her limbs, force her to gnaw off her foot in a charmed fox trap, force her to live as a salamander for however long the regeneration took.
 
Why did they want her to explain herself, or even expect an apology of some sort? How does anyone explain themselves in a situation when they know nobody will listen, when they know there is no excuse? Even if Elysia said what she really felt or thought, they would not listen even then. She knew that, so she did not even bother defending herself, she simply healed the murderer, so they could not be justified in breaking her own limbs. She knew the moment the one girl yelled at her, and the moment the green being said something about the law, and for all the others, too. When that happened, she just decided to tell them what the law was, what the law considered wrong, because that was all they cared about, it seemed, the law and civility.
 
What did they think the law could do to Elysia? What did they think the law could take away from her, that she had not already lost? What did they think they could do to her, that had not already been done, save for taking her life, and what did they think Elysia expected in the future, that she could be afraid of those threats? Did they think Elysia had any hope?
 
Elysia expected nothing. She saw no future with anything positive. All she saw ahead was a life of pain, misery, loneliness, and more violence and bloodshed. Sometimes, she wondered why she even continued living, seeing this. Some stubborn part of her wanted to still believe there would be a fated day where something good was bound to happen, but the demon in her thoughts insisted, no, there was nothing. Even then, she did not die, because something had to be better in the future? She would never be able to undo her decisions, they were permanent…
 
 
…It was with these thoughts, a mess of endless, maddening questions and hopeless feelings, that Elysia rubbed her temples, and set down the now-finished plate of food, everything having been eaten, even though she had lost her appetite mid-way through. She went about the rituals, caring for herself, eating so she would not starve, drinking water so she would not die of thirst, treating wounds and resting if possible. It was the simple, basic drive of every living thing, that insisted that no matter the level of suffering, life was preferable to death. It was more like instinct, than conscious thought, how Elysia ensured her needs were met. She was far beyond weeping; the tears had been exhausted a long time ago.
 
The hopeless, weary feeling calling her to sleep sank deep into her bones, and Elysia barely succeeded in remaining awake when she laid down on the bed. Forcing herself to move arms that now felt as if they were bound by shackles, she placed her hand over her left shoulder, and the blood-encrusted gunshot wound, still not fully-healed, although she had already used her magic to do so for two people, and had gone very far for someone with broken limbs. She barely had the strength left for herself, but she needed to do some of it now, or her range of motion would be ruined, she knew.
 
She wished she did not know. How she wished she did not know.
 
“…Spark…” whispered quietly, now struggling to muster the energy, and wondered if there was a way to turn off the strange candle…globe-things…creating so much light in the room that suddenly felt extremely unwelcome.
 
As tiny white flames were barely visible under her palm, wicking into her shoulder injury, Elysia realized the edges of her vision were beginning to blur and swim in black. Her head felt light, and her heart rate felt abnormal.
 
She had pushed herself too far.
 
It looked like she would not need to worry about the light at all, she thought bitterly, as her vision went dark.
 
Lynn & Scylla
 
Eating dinner had been unusually tense and quiet after Honey’s discussion, and neither Lynn, nor Scylla, were willing to speak until they realized they had been assigned to the same room. Well, not that Lynn truly understood what the numbers were, he could not read the language, although even so, he could look at the numbers on the card he had been given, and recognized they were the exact same symbols as Scylla’s. No sooner than they had gotten inside the room, that Lynn began to pace uneasily back and forth, no doubt recent events weighed heavily on his mind. He had dealt with many things, from dragons that began preying upon humans regularly, to unpredictable weather patterns he had to prevent, but none of those things prepared him for what he was experiencing now. He had felt like he had a right to his opinion, to question the shapeshifter’s actions towards the attacker, but after Honey’s statements, he now had doubts.
 
“…Lynn, please stop pacing, you’re making me nervous, just watching you.” Scylla insisted, from where he was sitting down on his bed.
 
Lynn sighed, frustrated, and sat down on the side of the other bed in the room. “I do not understand, I thought the shapeshifter considered me an enemy, and then….” He was unable to find the right words, and frantically waved a hand in the air in gesture to everything else after the ‘then’ statement.
 
“Nah, she doesn’t, and the issue with that gunman doesn’t have any sort of connection to how she treats you. They’re two separate things.” Scylla replied frankly, before taking off his jacket and inspecting it, fussily brushing off dust and picking off loose fibers and lint that had clung to it.
 
“I do not understand how someone who treats another person with hostility or cruelty may at the same time not feel any sort of malice.” Lynn replied, “I am not used to people who behave in such a way, and I have met many people in my travels.”
 
“Well...if you briefly meet a guy by the side of the road, and talk for maybe a few minutes, that doesn’t count. You probably haven’t met any enemies either.” Scylla replied, not looking at Lynn. He set aside his jacket and removed his glasses, holding them up to the light and squinting at them. They were smudged, irritatingly enough.
 
“I have stayed and worked to pay for shelter in many places, I should think I have gotten to know people very well.” Lynn argued.
 
“Well, think again,” Scylla replied without a pause, pulling a cloth out of his jacket pocket and rubbing his glasses to remove the oil and dust. “Not everyone shows their real personality in a business transaction, or reveals their deeper, inner thoughts to random strangers. We change how we act depending on who we’re around. That’s how most people work.”
 
“I still do not understand, my thoughts are not organized. Perhaps I thought I knew, but now, I am not sure of anything.” Lynn sighed, finally letting go of the frustration. Scylla was completely blameless in this mess, he had not done anything to deserve Lynn’s ire, and it was wrong of Lynn to take out his frustration on Scylla, although he felt very upset. Lynn knew better than to use a harsh tone, it was not good for either of them.
 
“Of course, you aren’t, but neither am I, and neither is Honey. Truth is, though, Honey and I probably didn’t come from good places, I say that because we don’t look human. Non-humans get mistreated pretty often in our world, at least, if people can tell we’re not human.”
 
Scylla finished cleaning the filth from his glasses and placed them back on his nose, turning to look at Lynn. “I know that sounds like a completely different subject, but you look at that lady, and you can tell she doesn’t look normal. Eyes that color are not normal for a human. She looks strange by human standards, regardless of where she goes. You also said that shapeshifters were normally just legends, with no humanity. Ever wonder what that kind of stuff would do to a real shapeshifter, one that is human, but the world doesn’t view her that way? Much less, the world considers her dangerous?”
 
The thought made a creeping sense of dread fill Lynn’s heart, and his face went pale.
 
“Maybe you get it, based on the expression you’re making now.” Scylla began, “but ultimately, if someone tells you something enough, regardless if it’s good or not, you start to believe it. Also, I’ve seen some messed-up things, and it starts to get to you, eventually. I’m not going to say whether or not she did the right thing, but I’m not gonna hold a grudge over it, either. I’ve got my hunches, my theories, and I don’t really care what anyone else has to say about it.”
 
Scylla went back to picking at his jacket.
 
“Why are you and Honey telling me these things now?”
 
“Why?” Scylla looked up at Lynn, “Because you seem like a nice person, but you blindly go along with what’s obviously ‘right’ before you carefully think it over. Even Elysia herself was pointing that out. To the people who are rejected by society on some level, following the crowd is something you should never, ever do.”
 
“Following….but society exists for the purpose of rules and order.”
 
“Yeah, well, those rules and the order don’t always help everyone involved. There’s winners and losers. The majority wins by default, the minority will win or lose depending on what everyone else thinks should happen. I’m not gonna say whether what she did was right or wrong, but honestly, I can’t be angry with her. I just can’t, it feels wrong and I can’t.”
 
Scylla stopped what he was doing and looked up at Lynn again, “Look, just stop, okay? Stop asking the same questions and obsessing over it, when I can’t give you a definite answer. You’re not getting answers from us, we’re telling you that you need to find an answer on your own. If you can’t come up with an argument to support what you think, it won’t last a minute against someone who’s used to getting questioned constantly. This isn’t some easy topic where we just say that’s good or bad and that’s the end of the story. You have to think about it. Start asking why instead of just saying this or that. If you aren’t going to just take my words and keep pushing it, then shut up.”
 
Lynn did not reply, unable to think of a proper response.
 
Scylla glared intensely at Lynn for a moment, before pulling off his glasses again, and rubbing his temples, “…Look, Lynn, I really don’t mean to snap at you, but I’ve had a stressful day, and I’m at the point now where I just can’t take it anymore. I’m tired, I can’t think straight, I’ve already physically punched you once. I know myself well enough to know when I can’t handle the stress anymore. Just….please….stop talking about it, I don’t want to think about it anymore.”
 
Lynn was quiet still for a moment longer, frozen almost like a rabbit that had been found by a hawk, but the moment finally passed as Scylla turned his attention back to his jacket.
 
“I…apologize…I was frustrated…and although I was telling myself that I had let go of it…I did not…instead I kept asking the questions repeatedly, and arguing with your opinions, even though they are valid things you feel very strongly about…”
 
“…Yes…see now?” Scylla heaved a sigh of what seemed like relief and exasperation. “You’re a very nice guy, but…forgive me for saying this…you’re too overbearing…you need to watch that. If you reject what other people say just because you don’t like it, you probably won’t make many real friends. You have to respect what someone else says, and you need to recognize when to drop the issue.”
 
“Well, then…I will not press you further, but the one final issue…she was not arrested or charged with a crime, so we will likely see the shapeshifter again tomorrow. How should I….?”
 
“Oh, you mean how should you talk with her?” Scylla completed Lynn’s thought.
 
“I do not have anyone else from my world to talk with, so even if I do not initially want to hold discussions with her, I feel like I should.”
 
“Well, when you don’t know what to say, don’t say anything. Just pretend nothing happened. Talk about something else. Honestly, if I were her, I wouldn’t want to talk about it, either. It’s not like she’s a person who brags…in fact, I honestly think she hates talking about herself, she won’t say anything specific about anything. Probably doesn’t feel comfortable, she’d probably be happier if you just let go of everything and started over.”
 
“Start over?”
 
“Yeah, crazy idea, I know, but what else are you gonna do? If you don’t plan on going separate ways, you need to get along. You can’t get along if you constantly bring up something unpleasant.”
 
“I…suppose you are right…but that behavior is still very worrying.”
 
Scylla was putting back on his jacket, but paused to look at Lynn.
 
“Well, of course it is,” A strange expression passed over Scylla’s face, “…but you aren’t worried about yourself, are you?”
 
 
Honey
 
Honey’s ears twitched, “Scylla and I ran into a crab-alien who stitched him up, he’s walking around now and you can’t even tell he got injured. Tail’s still singed, though, but whatever the doctor put on it, I can’t feel it at all.” She waved her tail lightly, the bald, burnt patch still visible. “Well…A lot has happened, actually. Right after I dragged Scylla off to find a doctor, we wound up falling through the portal. We arrived here around….what….four or five? Gah, I can’t remember, we kinda just sat there for a long time before the Greeter found us.” She waved a hand frantically, as if trying to dismiss it, it wasn’t really that important.
 
“At any rate, eh….you might have seen some stuff going on, there was…another shooting incident. We all got out of the building, but some of the people that arrived at the same hotspots as me and Scylla wound up fighting back. Some…things happened…and….there’s a bit of a void going on right now. The people who got out there and fought off the gunmen did some controversial stuff, and it didn’t sit well with the others.”
 
Her ear twitched, “Honestly, I…can’t really say I agree with the people who got mad…but…eh….actually, I probably should talk about something else. We’ve seen a lot of interesting stuff by this point. We’ve got a shapeshifter and a mage, a really tall dragon-like being, several aliens, some sort of creature that petrifies stuff into limestone on contact, and a floating sickle.” One ear swiveled lightly, “That screaming voice, you might have heard it earlier? That’s the sickle, he doesn’t speak any other way. A lot of people had trouble dealing with that one. Someone got so freaked out they got sick over it.”
 
 
Konrad
 
Konrad looked over at Thukr, briefly taking his attention away from the fine seam he was leaving in place of the tear, “I imagine not. Love is for those who feel they can afford to sacrifice for another, it does not work if born from selfish things. Suffering makes sacrifice all the more painful, but special, as well.” He looked back down at his sleeve, returning to mending it, “…My jacket has no sentimental value, not in the sense that I have fond memories. I am not what I appear to be. I was once human, but I committed a grave error, once, and was placed under a curse.”
 
His eyes narrowed, as if a sudden, painful memory was called to mind. “The curse gave me this form, which is monstrous to the humans of my world. The one who placed the curse on me is deceased, as are all her remaining relatives, so it has become permanent. I am immortal, now, because of the spell, and I am immune to sickness and disease, but my qi is corrupted. My energy itself is a deadly poison, and while my body is immortal, my mind was not meant to last forever. With the passage of time, memories that should be important slip away, and my thoughts do not always feel clear, as I think they should be.”
 
Konrad looked back up at Thukr, “I tell you, my jacket, I have worn it for a long time, but the damage to it is like a recording of history. If I forget any detail, I need only look at my sleeves, and I might remember. If I were to replace it, I might lose what I have seen in the past few decades.” He went back to finish the final stitches of his repair, “…thus…I keep this even though it is torn to mere shreds.”
 
He turned his arm in several directions, inspecting his work, before finally turning to focus all of his attention towards Thukr, “My story…is not a pleasant one…I would much rather prefer yours. I was not a good person, in the past, and suffered little, despite my own failures as a human being. A world of suffering, I would wish that on no one, but love in a world of suffering is still a better story than a single, cruel man who lives in luxury, and causes suffering out of his ignorance amongst innocent people.”

Though the mood was uncomfortable, it was something Thray was at least familiar with. He listened to Riley talk while he folded his cloak up and took off his boots, eyes narrowing in confusion at her mention of ‘twenty-four hours’ in reference to a day. His own day cycles were twenty-five hours, though he decided not to ask what amount of time equaled an hour in her terms. Doubtless it was a confusing subject. He set his boots on the floor at the edge of the bed and then sat back, watching Riley curiously as she tied up her hair. She was a very interesting alien, he decided. There was nothing quite like her kind where he came from. What purpose did hair on one’s head serve evolutionarily? Personally, he was glad he didn’t have hair or fur, as it seemed like either were difficult and bothersome to maintain.

At least he didn’t have to feel self-conscious about being bald.

Thray refocused at the sound of Riley’s question. Sleeping quarters. Right. “Well usually I sleep on my ship,” he began, unclipping the belt that holstered his pistol and sheathed his sword. “Captain’s cabin. It’s compact, but larger than this room, and has a window full of stars… When it’s quiet you can hear the engines hum and feel the ship as she streaks through the void.” He hung the belt around the bedpost furthest from Riley and closest to him, though he doubted she would attack him with his own weapons. Either way, the pistol wouldn’t work for anyone but him, and somehow he doubted she knew how to use or could even lift the sword properly.

Thukr twitched her lips, her grimace ever so present on her face. When Konrad had mentioned preferring her story, she seemed to chortle a slight bit. She snorted and let him continue. When he had finished however, Thukr responded, taking a long breath in before speaking, "You would not like my story. It would take too much time to tell and it is very bad. You should trust me." She creaked backwards, "Do you need to sleep? I do not want you to be awake all night because I know that certain people need to sleep."

Riley
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Riley silently stared forward at the wall as she listened to Thray's description of where he usually slept, feeling a slight twinge of jealousy that was overshadowed with curiosity. She took off her own shoes and slid them under the edge of her bed before sitting back on it, crossing her legs. She noted Thray's caution, but tried to shrug it off; it wasn't like she trusted him that much, either.

"So you get to do space travel stuff?" Riley mused, the question being rhetorical. She pondered how much she could reveal about where she was from, but decided it was okay to reveal some to avoid having to come under someone's radar as suspiciously secretive. "Where I'm from, we don't really have anything like that aside from maybe going to the moon. Though there are some people that have abilities different from others. They're just called mutants." She pulled the name for those people from a hat, avoiding the term Changeling and sticking with a comic book term. "I'm used to sleeping in rooms like this since the technology here seems a lot like where I'm from, but I'm not sure. We've only seen what this world is made of from a small bus and large building, after all." Riley let out a yawn, massaging her left shoulder with her right hand as she added, "A window full of stars sounds really nice, though. A window in general, really; this room needs one."

Up until this point, Riley was managing to avoid thinking about much of the past day, distracting herself from the thoughts that would certainly arrive if she were left alone to think. Her eyes were heavy, but she did not want to even try to sleep, right now.

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Lexy
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Lexy's bright green eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed with worry as she listened to Honey recount their time apart. So there was an attack here? She hoped everyone was okay, even if she didn't exactly know everyone there. It's a good thing Honey and Scylla were okay, though!

Lexy did not think very much about the recount of the argument following the attack and her expression quickly changed to one of interest when Honey brought up others at the place, her mind focusing on what was obviously the most important of matters. "But... how can a sickle even do that? And is the person who threw up okay?"

One freckled hand reached up to pull at a curl, letting it bounce back up before tugging at it again as Lexy spoke, her eyes looking to her left as she tried to recall her own day. "Well, when you left things calmed down and the bad guys disappeared and we were sent to our dorms after the teachers checked everyone through for bad guys or wounds and teachers are now patrolling the halls and stuff. That didn't stop a rumor from spreading when we all went to eat, though." Lexy lowered her voice, "So you know how there was, like, one group attacking? People think there were actually two groups, there - one the Fellowship, and another some underground curse group. They're worried the two may have teamed up or something." Her voice went back to being a normal pitch and cheerful, "I found that out from some guys who were talking about what they heard in the hallway outside their dorms from the teachers, though, so I'm not sure about it."

Konrad
 
Konrad frowned perplexed, “Do I need to sleep…?” He turned and stared down at the rug in the room, hard, as if his brain were not making what should have been logical sense of Thukr’s question. “I…have slept last….at….sunrise….the last world I was in….” He murmured. Technically, Konrad did not sleep during the day, but his actual thought was that he had last woken up from sleep at sunrise. His thoughts did not always consistently match what he verbally said. There was also the terrible issue, that Konrad, due to jumping through multiple worlds with different times of day, was horribly confused about how long he had actually gone without caring for basic needs. His capacity to ignore things like hunger, exhaustion, and bathing, Konrad knew he struggled with it, and it was a worrisome thing, that he could not quite make a connection between two thoughts that should have been obvious, like how long he had gone without sleep.
 
After a long, uneasy pause, he slowly spoke, “…I have been awake for….two days, I suppose….rest would be….ideal…..I had almost forgotten…” He placed a hand over his head, shaking it slowly, “This…does not bode well…”
 
He sighed, “Very well, good night, Thukr.”
 
 
Honey
 
Honey frowned, perplexed, “The person who threw up was okay, but we kinda lost sight of her after a bit. The sickle, magic, I guess.” She seemed to have something weighing heavily on her mind, “I….found someone who might have been working….with those people….so….I don’t know if someone….was…well…working with the Fellowship or not….but he was a Changeling, or at least cursed.” Her ears flattened, “I…suppose cursed people….would have their reasons for hating Changelings….I mean….a Changeling is how they got cursed….but….just swearing to kill us…? Goodness, no, that’s not right.” She folded her arms and looked down at the ground, thinking hard.
 
After a moment, Honey looked back up at Lexy, her ears raising, “I…don’t know exactly what’s going on back at school…but…if any of those rumors are true….we’re probably better off here. I…have a really bad feeling about that entire situation."
 

There was another pause, and Honey spoke again, ears standing fully-upright again, this time, her expression brightening, “Another thing…Lexy, you came through a different portal than us? It’s a stretch…but we might run into more people. I don’t know where they are, it might just be you, me, and Scylla….but….it’s possible there’s other people from our world that might show up later. As far as I can tell…when multiple people go through portals, that’s because they fell through the same one.” She pushed a lock of her mane out of her eyes, “You fell through a completely separate portal, so…I don’t know much about portals, yet…but it’s possible Legerman…might be a hotspot.”

“Mutants?” Thray said quietly. People with abilities, as she’d explained. He wondered what she meant by that, and what sort of connotation such a term held. Different from others. His only experience with ‘mutants’ had to deal with cave-dwelling monstrosities poisoned by decades of radioactive waste leaking into the planet’s groundwater. Funny how twisted things could become in the dark. Funny and frightening. He seriously doubted that she was referencing the same thing, however.

Still though, it was fascinating to learn that her kind had only visited their moon. Similar events for his homeworld had taken place well over a thousand years ago. So, he was speaking with primitives. Not that he thought any less of them; people were people, regardless of where they came from or how far they’d reached into the stars. There had been a time many years ago when he had not considered anyone hailing from another world as anything but inferior, as was taught by his mentors, but he’d walked among these aliens, spoken to people from worlds shattered and burned by his own kind. It had not taken much to convince him once his eyes had been opened to the light.  

“…Well I can’t make a window,” Thray hummed, “but… hm. I could make some stars. They’d make me feel better.” He tapped at his holowatch, bringing up the scans he’d taken of the constellations while he’d waited in the parking lot. They were still a work in progress, but he’d managed to get a rather impressive three-dimensional display program working well enough. He directed the projection up to the top of the room, filling the ceiling with glowing pinpoints of light that twinkled and mimicked the stars as they would appear if the roof were to be lifted away. He stood up, some of the little orbs now floating around his face as he examined his work. “Not a very useful map,” he admitted, “but at least it’s pretty.”

Riley
-------------------

Riley noticed Thray’s confusion and quickly elaborated her term for Changelings, “Erm… I would not have any special abilities if I weren’t an empath, for example,” she clarified. She kept on using terms so common for where she was from, but apparently uncommon from Thray’s place. It made for rather trifling cultural barriers, but those were to be expected with any of the Travelers, she supposed.

When Thray said he could do something about stars, Riley straightened her back from a slouch and looked over at him curiously, managing out a surprised, “Hm?” The thought of having stars in the room sounded unreal, but also really… nice. She watched as Thray took out some device, using it to project stars around the room. Her eyes widened and moved away from Thray to the ceiling directly above her, her hands moving back on the bed as she leaned further back. Just like that, the scene had become peaceful, and for a moment she actually had forgotten about everything. As long as she kept her eyes open, everything was okay.

“I just realized that I’ve never really taken the time to look at the stars just for the heck of looking at them,” Riley muttered before laying down completely on her bed, her eyes not leaving the starry ceiling. Her eyes were getting heavier, but she still didn’t want to sleep, still. Even so, her voice sounded heavy from lack of energy as she spoke, sounding as though she could drift to sleep any minute. “So does that device do anything else? I mean, I have a smartphone that calls people and also has games and music on it. Does it work like that?”

------------------------------
Lexy
------------------------------

“Really?” Lexy’s eyes widened when Honey mentioned the person she met who was probably working with the other people. She pitied the cursed people, honestly - they are not born with their abilities, so they are not as used to them as normal Changelings, and it has to be difficult to have to deal with those changes, too. It would give them a good reason to dislike Changelings, though anyone attacking anyone still made, like, no sense to Lexy. Even so, the thought gave her an idea.

“But what if, like… what if like the cursed people were being led by whoever cursed them? Like, what if they had to listen or something? No, nevermind - they wouldn’t have to listen to them, would they?” She sighed, slightly rocking on the balls of her feet. “I don’t know, I just don’t want people to attack with no reason - I’m sure whatever it is, the reason made sense to them, right?”

Attention moving to Honey’s more recent sentences, Lexy suddenly smiled and nodded, “I did come through a different place - it was in my room, actually.” She clapped her hands together before clasping them, “Maybe there are other portals there, then, that are coming here, right?” she grinned as she added, “And then we could find others, or probably get help for them somehow, right?”

Veil walked into one of the allotted resting arrangements. The room was dark, with vague shapes protruding into the visible space. Veil saw a silhouette resting on one of the pieces of what he assumed was furniture, and swiftly reached for a light switch on the wall with his left hand. After a few moments of fruitless grasping, his hand fell upon a simple pressure sensor, which he quickly pressed down on. A soft, yellow light brightened the room, and Veil saw his roommate. It sat there, looking slightly confused, at least to Veil's perception. A knight? Whatever it was, it was dressed in full armor, and sat on the bed rather conspicuously.

"I am Veil," he said in a muffled, low voice. The bandages covering his chin moved as he spoke. He kept his right hand on his sword hilt. "What are you?" He asked bluntly.

Thray smiled faintly at Riley’s expression and turned to switch the lights off. Now with the room plunged into darkness, the starry “sky” above seemed just that much more believable. Moving back to his bed, he lay down and brought his hands to his chest, sighing softly. Riley’s comment about never looking at the stars was a strange thought to him; the stars had been his only company for a number of years. They were beautiful, elegant, and dangerous in many respects. Better appreciated from afar, as one could whilst sitting planetside.

Riley’s next question was so thick with sleep Thray wondered if she were asking because she was genuinely curious or because she was looking for an excuse to stay awake. “It’s called a holowatch,” he answered, “and yes, it can play music.” He was beginning to feel tired himself. It had been quite a long day full of unexpected surprises... He dearly wished his wife were here with him. At least then he’d know she was safe. “Games too,” he forced himself to continue, “though I’ve never used it for that purpose. They’re greatly inferior to the games one could play on a holoscreen. It’s a... uh… much larger device with similar properties.” He paused, wondering if that was an adequate explanation. “I don’t know how my watch might compare with your ‘smart-phone.’ I use it mainly for instantaneous translation and communication, though it has many functions. It monitors my physical and mental state at all times. It can store a vast amount of data, take pictures, calculate my position relative to my ship with unrivaled accuracy, track others connected to my network… and much more, though right now a lot of its abilities aren’t working because I’m not connected to my ship’s database.” He frowned at this last thought and fell silent, remembering his earlier trek to the top of a lamppost.

Thray turning off the lights did not help Riley's current state, and her eyes became heavier with each word she spoke. "Sounds a lot like my phone, actually, if you don't include the mental state monitoring and all the ship stuff... though it can monitor calories burned, your vehicle, talk to others, send videos, and..." she yawned, obviously drifting closer to sleep, "all that stuff."

"Y'know," she muttered, "even with the rough start, this place isn't so bad compared to other places." With those words, sleep conquered Riley and she drifted out of consciousness, her breathing soon becoming heavy.

Click.

The room was awash in light with the simple click of a before-unseen button on the wall beside the door, which had been pressed by a new stranger - no, roommate. The knight rather preferred how the room was dark before, soft white light passing through the thin drapes over the window being its only previous illumination, but amends, of course, must be made if they were to be in this situation. She did look somewhat dazed to the newcomer, and he wouldn't be incorrect in assuming she was, as she turned her head as if on a swivel, quickly reexamining the room. Finally, her gaze rested on him.

Her new roommate was... hard to make out. He was tall, very tall - his legs, in fact, seemed to have more joints than it should, and were covered in thick metal plating. Anything above his knees was draped thickly in rags, the occasional glint of metallic armor beneath being the only hint of something beneath. He looked somehow normal otherwise, save for his head, which seemed much, much longer than it should, like a sort of beak or snout was present. For now, the knight just focused on the newcomer's goggles; they were the only semblance of something familiar. To be fair, he wasn't the oddest thing she had ever seen - maybe she was being a little unfair to him in that regard.

She acknowledged Veil's name when he told it to her, and suddenly it clicked; she recognized him from the... earlier incident. She could have probably thanked him for helping her earlier, with those souls she had acquired. However, she seemed somehow offended at the question following his simple introduction. "What am I?" She crossed her arms. "Callisto."

She sat on the bed nearest to the window, and seemed unwilling to move. There was a simple moment of quiet between the two of them, but Callisto soon conceded and spoke. "...You can have the other bed. This one is mine." She probably wouldn't sleep on her bed, but was it not the principle of the thing?

Honey


Honey sat down on the remaining bed that had not been claimed, responding to Lexy’s ideas, “You’ve got it…I don’t know if we can actually help anyone that comes through, but whatever is going on at Legerman, it’s probably better if they aren’t there. If the teachers and faculty don’t explain what’s going on and just quietly expect people to resume activities under guard, that doesn’t strike me as a comforting thought.” She grabbed the little water-filled terrarium hanging from the chain around her neck, and removed it, holding it up and inspecting the Java fern inside, “The turn of events aside, I just think having other people from the same world as you there….it makes a huge difference.”
 
She tapped the side of the terrarium vial lightly, dislodging a tiny, sparkly fleck of what looked like opal, which was floating freely with the fern. “I’m only nineteen myself, but what I saw, I needed to talk about it, and although I’ve vented a little bit, it’s not like people who weren’t there will understand.” Honey slid the terrarium back over her neck and looked back at Lexy. “I just know that if Scylla hadn’t been with me when I fell through that portal, I might have been a real mess by now. The world we’re from, it’s not like other worlds, and everything we see is different. I should be terrified, I should be scared, but I’m not, because I’ve got someone there with me, probably feeling the same way.”
 
A feline smile curled Honey’s lips, “Also, not many people talk about mistakes with butter. That was almost like the time when I was little and I tried to make a dessert that called for custard powder, and grabbed the mustard powder instead.” Her ears lowered, “It did not taste right. Apparently, custard powder is really just a fancy word for corn starch…my white chocolate custard was ruined by the time I realized it. It was watery, and the taste was horribly wrong.”

With this, Honey sighed, "At any rate...we should probably get some rest. I have a feeling tomorrow will be really busy."











.....Later, early in the morning, before the sun even began to rise...

Riley

There was something where there was nothing. Riley could feel it. It was that presence of someone watching her, just out of her line of vision, one who the absence of sound proved the presence of. It as though there was something so quiet that its silence was audible and creeping up to her. Where there should have been sound, none existed. The outside world was soon muted by her steady heartbeat and each breath became louder, the silence between each sound becoming increasingly present as she stared down the dark corridor, imagining its dark fingers - or were they claws? or teeth? - reaching forward to grab onto her arm. The lack of its presence is unnerving. You should be running, but it’s not like you’ll have any time to move before it has you, you can imagine. The lack of knowledge is even more unnerving.

Don’t turn around.

She turned around. Nothing was there but the darkness of the corridor, shadows without owners breathing as though they were infused with life. Riley let out a sigh and turned back to continue down the endless corridor, but what greeted her when she looked back was the corpse of an unknown person. He stared at her and her feet froze in place as she stared back. An unknown voice echoed through her mind, telling her something what needn’t be told about his origin and how he died. The scene changed, and the walls turned from a shadowed pale to complete darkness, one which light couldn’t reflect from. All that was visible for Riley was her own body and that which stood in front of her. She watched as an onlooker as her own form looked down at her hands, hands in which the nails held strands of her own unbraided hair, matted with the blood of another unknown person. Her vision blurred as she watched herself and the corpse, then looked away from the duo to look at her own hands, seeing the same image of blood and hair. The setting twisted again, and Riley no longer saw her own form standing in front of the corpse while. Just eyes. Hundreds of eyes staring at her, eyes which saw everything she hid. Eyes which saw every life lost. Eyes with no mouths, that couldn’t say a single word - that needn’t say a single word. They all knew, but were saying nothing as they judged her, and now she was left alone with her feelings. Her feelings and blood and nails and- “No!”

Riley woke up screaming the word. Just like that, she was awake - safe. Even so, the dream had unnerved her; in spite of escaping from that dreadful earth, she was still having to hide from its presence, and she still carried worries over. Had her presence affected this world to make events follow, too, and make the shooting follow? Could that happen? Her clammy hands went up, trembling slightly as they folded onto her now-folded up knees and she buried her head into the pocket of warmth, ignoring the sounds of the building. Her own crowded emotions were keeping her from noticing if anyone was there, and the only thing she could think to mutter was “I’m sorry.” Who this was to remained ambiguous.

It had taken Thray some time to fall asleep. Aside from the unfamiliar bed, the pillow that was much too soft, and the absence of familiar sounds, it was the first time in a long time that he’d slept anywhere alone. There was no familiar, loving figure to hold closely in the night. He’d compensated by rolling onto his stomach and shoving his face into the pillow, and shockingly enough it’d worked. Or at least it had until his roommate had woken up screaming at o’dark thirty.

Thray flipped over and sat bolt-upright at the sound of Riley’s screaming, the speed of his actions nearly sending him over the edge of his bed. He hissed something unintelligible—probably a curse—and scanned the room for perceived threats. There were none that he could see, but he found himself reaching for his pistol all the same, ready to attack the shadows in the corners. “What—who?” he gagged, tense, ready to fight for his life. It was then he finally noticed Riley curled up on her bed still, and he blinked as a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding escaped him. “Oh,” he murmured, sympathetic. Relaxing, he stopped trying to pull his weapons free and slouched over a little, exhaustion returning to him. Voice heavy with sleep, he asked, “Hey, are you alright?”

What time was it? Thukr couldn't tell, and she preferred not to know. Time was a useful concept in her eyes, even though she didn't fully understand it. Time didn't exactly work where she lived, but that didn't bother her. It just meant that she didn't age the same way that everyone else did, at least that's how she thought it worked.

Thukr had to tend to her eggs, that's probably the only reason she was up so early. She crawled through her nest, finding a few eggs. She examined them, one looked like a dead rose bud. She ate it as soon as she saw it. Another looked like a purple piece of plastic tubing that vibrated subtly. She ate that too. One last egg looked like a thorny, red cinnamon roll. She coughed then whimpered quietly, almost like the egg disappointed her. She shuddered and then ate the last egg, pausing mid chew to react to a scream she had heard. It wasn't demonic like the sickle's scream; it sounded like a soft seed had made that sound. Quickly repurposing her nest back to her lower mound, Thukr lowered herself off the bed. She stood for a moment, wondering if Konrad was awake. She would have to wait for him, for waking people is rude.

Thukr finished chewing the egg and then snorted. Breathing heavily, she seemed to have been affected by the lack of movement. She was especially wrinkly and dry. Her skin seemed to be more limestone than mucus now. There were some movements in her gut that would have been visible if there had been light. The eggs were reacting to her stomach, which produced a strange array of smells from her skin. It was like you could smell the taste of soap, which might have woken up Konrad if he was sensitive to smells.

Riley

Riley heard someone speak and just pressed her face further into the bend of her arm, nodding her head. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she muttered, her voice muffled. There was a momentary pause before she added, her voice a whisper, “You can’t even escape what you escape from, in the end.” Her hidden eyes widened when she realized she said that out loud, and she moved her face downwards so that only her forehead rested on her arm, helping to keep her voice from being muffled while her face remained hidden and she began to process the current situation. It was Thray who had spoken to her, and it was evident that he was now calming down and quite tired. While Riley felt her cheeks heat up with embarrassment, she also felt a slight amount of appreciation for the legitimate worry in his inquiring about her.
.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I didn’t mean to… to wake you.” The fact that she screamed was too embarrassing to acknowledge. What time did she wake up? She wasn’t going back to sleep, now, but was it okay to go ahead and get ready for the day? One arm was removed from the top of her knees and her hand reached down, searching through the covers for her phone before giving up; she wasn’t even sure if the time on her phone was correct, here. Instead Riley untucked her head and looked at Thray. Her face was still slightly red, and the whites of her eyes were no exception. As she spoke to him, her nails subconsciously picked at each other in reaction to the still-mingling memories of the dream.

“Thanks for your worry, though,” she mumbled, giving Thray a small smile. “It was just a dream. I’m not used to some of the things that have happened, y’know?”

Mouse & Elysia
 
Mouse had not returned last night to the rooms as directed by the Central Agents. She did not trust their judgement, and did not like the idea of being forced to stay in a room alongside a stranger she did not know. The fact that nobody had provided any sort of baby formula at the meal, and did not attempt to look for it when she asked a multitude of people, meant Mouse had used the last amounts from her own world trying to feed Whisker, and had nothing left for later feedings. Despite the attempts to accommodate Travelers of every shape and size, Central had failed miserably to think about the needs of infants, human or otherwise. Mouse would have to feed Whisker again in two hours, and another two hours after that, and it was dangerous to let the rodent go hungry. It would be an enormous waste if her pet passed away due to the ignorance of someone else. Mouse was very careful about Whisker’s care, so being effectively forced to let her pet starve made her very upset, even as a mere thought process.
 
Hence, when all of the Travelers had gone to bed in their rooms, Mouse never went to hers; she slunk off and crept around, slipping through the scene that was being cleaned up from the fight undetected by anyone, Whisker remaining silent in her arms. Although bodies were being covered in sheets and carted out, it was hard not to see that it had been a bloodbath; the gunmen had killed many people, easily fifty or more. The remains of the attackers that Mouse did see, one was decapitated, another had a hole seared in his throat, and yet another had his throat neatly slit. Were it not for the fact that there was a huge number of victims and that she was used to seeing senseless bloodshed, Mouse might have agreed in thinking the ones fighting were excessively brutal, seeing as a few incidences looked very disturbing--but in this case, she only made a note to not anger them; they were frighteningly creative in their ‘methods’.
 
Sneaking to a second-floor in the building, she had entered the warehouse, and continued to search until she finally found baby formula inside of a crate, located in a far-off corner of the immense room. From there, she had taken a jar of powder and relied on hot water she found in a bathroom sink to prepare it, fascinated by the presence of running water. She had always carefully covered her tracks, and versus returning to her room once she had the supplies, she chose instead to hide out between two crates, almost invisible. The enclosed, dark spaces in the warehouse were comforting to Mouse, in a sharp contrast to the painfully-open, glaring white walls elsewhere. Racks upon racks containing wooden crates and pallets broke up the empty space, and absorbed excess noise; aside from distant workers passing through, there was little noise, and it was here that Mouse fell asleep.
 
 
…When Mouse woke up, it was due to a flashlight being shined in her face, her shoulder being shaken, Whisker squirming in her arms.
 
“Hey, you aren’t supposed to be here.” A growling voice said, a security guard with jeans and a black jacket being the one who had woken her, “How long have you been in here? How did you get past the others?”
 
Rather than focusing on the man’s words, however, Mouse only recognized the hand on her shoulder.
 
Touching.
 
Mouse hated it.
 
Mouse swiftly ripped the man’s arm off of her shoulder, what could be seen of her eyes narrowing with disgust, as she sprang up and slid past him as he stumbled from the sudden, unexpected force. Mouse was in no way stronger than this person, she knew, but surprise remained a decent factor, and what she lacked in power, she possessed in speed and elusiveness.
 
She held Whisker close to her chest, noting that there was something like a faint coating of dark brown fuzz now coating the rat pup, the beginnings of a fur coat. Mouse, however, was more focused on getting away from this person. She sped off, darting between the narrow spaces of crates that she knew the guard would not be able to get through himself.
 
“Hey! Don’t run!” He yelled, before clicking on a radio on his side to call for others who were closer to the entrance.
 
Three more people were present by the exit by the time Mouse reached it, and one came forward trying to grab her. Another came from behind, and still another tried to back her into the waiting guard’s grasp. Now surrounded, Mouse grit her teeth, recognizing they were trying to trap her.
 
“Stop that, don’t resist!” One snapped as Mouse ducked to avoid a grabbing arm, backing closer to the one who was trying to catch her from behind.
 
Her heart was racing now, with the beginnings of panic, and Mouse realized she needed to do something to make them back off or this would end badly.
 
There was a bright, metallic flash, and one man cried out, backing away, grabbing his wrist, where the sleeve of his black jacket uniform now had a neat, clean tear down the side. A dark stain, darker than the fabric, began to spread along the tear, a shallow cut now present along the length of his arm. It was not a deep cut, Mouse knew, but the length of it would be painful, and would bleed in a more alarming fashion. Mouse’s face, hidden behind her rags, grimaced at the blood on the man’s arm and on her blade, but valued avoiding capture even more than her distaste for human bodily fluids. Normally, she would never, ever do anything to bring herself in contact with blood, but her life was more important.
 
When the man who had been cut backed away, another looked at him with concern, and Mouse swiftly darted past the two, through the door, going down a flight of stairs and into a kitchen, where the cooks were just arriving, putting on their aprons. There was a clatter of plates, pots, and pans as she was pursued by the first guard, the one who had woken her, and the one who had tried to catch her initially. The guard who had been cut did not follow, and neither did the one who had been concerned, likely trying to get his friend medical attention.
 
Mouse continued out of the kitchen, being followed, beyond the now-spotless room where the fight had occurred (had magic been at work? Was there not a crater there before?), and down a set of hallways to where the rooms of Travelers that had been asleep were located. The racket of the guards shouting after her, as well as a large number of additional people who had been joining the chase, surely woke everyone up, before Mouse found herself stuck in the hallway between two separate groups, several people from a different direction having come to cut her off.
 
This time, Mouse was grabbed roughly from behind, Whisker began squealing, and once again Mouse prepared to use her blade again, before the arms hastily let go, and another hand—a scaly, armored red hand that the blade couldn’t even dent—grabbed Mouse’s wrist.
 
 
“It seems I am not the only one with a reputation for causing trouble.” Elysia said, looking at Mouse with an unreadable expression.
 
If Mouse had not scared the security guards, Elysia did.
 
Everyone swiftly backed away, easily remembering the scene from yesterday, and not wanting to be on the receiving end of any sort of brutality the shapeshifter was willing to inflict. The clamor immediately faded with her presence, bringing back some sense of order to the chaos.
 
“…Let go,” Mouse growled, immediately hating the woman beyond her help for grabbing her. Whisker was now wriggling in her free arm, and it was a struggle to hold the rat pup still. Mouse could squirm, but she knew better, and besides, the dragon-hand was like a vice, and no amount of human strength would force Elysia to release her grip.
 
Not that it hurt; Elysia’s grasp on Mouse’s wrist was firm, but there was no indication of excessive force.
 
“Only if you put away the blade.” Elysia replied, before looking back and forth at the unnerved guards, “…I only attack people who pose a threat to me. Do you think I will do something to you without provocation?” She said, keeping her voice even.
 
Elysia briefly tightened her grip, and then let go of Mouse’s arm. Mouse, deciding that Elysia was telling the truth, quickly hid the blood-encrusted blade, and stood there quietly as the guards approached.
 
“Is she with you?” One guard asked Elysia.
 
“Whether or not she is with me, what did she do?” Elysia asked, ignoring the question.
 
“She was in the storehouse rooms, we would have just escorted her out, but one of our security personnel is currently in the infirmary getting treated for a long cut on his arm thanks to her.”
 
“Ah….” Elysia nodded slowly, and looked down at Mouse, “Reacting to potential threats, I have no right to lecture you, as I do the same thing. I suppose they tried to grab you?”
 
“She ran.” Another guard chimed in. A radio by his side clicked on and a loud, digital-sounding communication came through, but nobody could clearly understand the words except the guard.
 
The guard clicked a button and replied, “Ah, no, no, we got her.” He said politely, before looking back at Elysia, “We did not know she had a weapon.”
 
Elysia then scowled at this, “…You have permitted people to walk about in this place freely with swords, bows, and such in the open. How are you surprised? You should be taking for granted in this place that everyone is armed. Of all people, why am I the one to point this out?”
 
The guard turned beet-red, “Uh…” he murmured, shuffling on his feet uneasily, unable to find a good reply. It was stupid, when she pointed it out. Concealed weapons were everywhere, much less ones carried where everyone could see that people were armed.
 
Another fellow guard stepped in to defend his friend, “Regardless, one of our people was attacked by this person.” He looked meaningfully at Mouse, and she tensed, putting a hand over her pocket where the knife was stored. By this time, Whisker was squeaking in her other arm. She grimaced beneath her rags at the fact that she had put something coated with blood in her pocket, and the distress of her pet, but all that could be seen were glowering eyes.
 
“Do not pull that knife out of your pocket.” Elysia warned, “I will only go so far to protect you from the consequences of whatever this mess is.”
 
Mouse tensed and forced herself to take her hand off of her pocket again. It was a reflex.
 
Elysia turned back to the guard, “What will you do now that you have caught her?”
 
“Place her in a containment cell until she has learned her lesson.” The guard automatically stated.
 
“A waste of time and energy.” Elysia immediately replied, her face returning to its typical, unreadable expression.
 
She looked at Mouse, “Now, why were you in their storage?” She asked.
 
Mouse proceeded to shift Whisker in her arms meaningfully, trying to calm the squeaking rat pup down. Whisker seemed to be soothed just a bit, and stopped writhing and making the pitiful little sounds that she had been making for quite some time. “Needs food….every two hours…”
 
Elysia looked at Mouse, perplexed, “…Could you not have asked?”
 
“…I did…nobody offered…thought she would starve.” Mouse replied haltingly.
 
“….Was there food that she could eat?”
 
“….yes...lazy people.” Mouse said disgustedly. “Would not investigate further.”
 
“How many people did you ask?”
 
“Many.”
 
Elysia’s expression deepened into a frown again. “So you asked and nobody would even think to search. Both you and the people running this facility are at fault.”
 
It was clear by this point that Elysia found this whole situation stupid, and perhaps even painful to watch or be involved in.
 
“She injured one of our guards!” The first person who had spoken to Elysia, now recovering from his embarrassment, protested.
 
“-do you expect her to simply let that creature starve?” Elysia growled dangerously. “For people who are supposedly empathetic and kind, you are very heartless regarding the needs of helpless animals. Infants, human or otherwise, need to be fed more frequently, and it is dangerous to withhold food. Do you want a creature to be crippled for life, or stunted, because it was not convenient to help? Secondly, if you forcibly grab someone as I saw you do before I stopped someone from drawing blood, yes, they will think you are trying to hurt them, and some people do react with violence.”
 
The man blanched and fell quiet again.
 
“Now…listen. If you will drop this issue, I will go to the infirmary and heal this person who was injured.” Elysia said, folding her arms and now negotiating, “Perhaps you will question my judgement, you have every right to do so, but it is clearly a case of neglect by your workers that left a person feeling forced to break rules. Whether or not she was violent is irrelevant to me. I do not care about your reasons when the welfare of an infant is involved. As I see it, this entire incident should have never occurred, from what I am hearing.”
 
By this point, all of the guards were shuffling uneasily. Perhaps they wanted to argue back, but the truth was, if the person they had been chasing had asked repeatedly for help in a valid way that aligned with the rules, and had not received help, it would only make sense that she would act out. They did not like agreeing, indeed, their culprit had fled from the guards and even attacked someone, but here was a person offering to undo the resulting damage in exchange for mercy….Plus, a holding cell and a period of isolation….it did not seem very effective, or even fair, given the circumstances. Perhaps it was more that the person that was pointing out all the wrongs was questionable herself, that made them so reluctant to admit any wrongdoing or mishandling on their part.
 
“Alright, what’s going on here?” The crowd cleared away as a young man with ginger hair and green eyes walked through, the signature suit and tie indicating he was a superior Agent. “I got a call about a person trespassing in the warehouse and cutting one of the guards. What’s taking so long on the detainment? Something about an infant? I only heard the last bit.”
 
He then saw Whisker, twitching with frustration in Mouse’s arms, “…Oh…that infant….is that….a rat?”
 
Elysia, thoroughly irritated, rubbed her temples, “Does it matter? Your workers should go out of their way to look for proper food for a creature if a person asks multiple people to do so. You had it in your storage facilities, simply nobody was willing to go and get it.”
 
One of the guards tapped the Agent on the shoulder, “She’s offered to heal Thomas if we don’t detain this woman.”
 
The Agent looked very sharply at Elysia, “….Well….we know she can…definitely….” He hummed thoughtfully.
 
His distant, almost dispassionate attitude, and the long, painful pause that came with his contemplation seemed to annoy everyone, including the guards.
 
“You know…I’m starting to like the idea of her offer.” Another guard added, trying desperately to make his superior decide. “I mean….I don’t agree with this lady cutting Thomas….but…well….it’s kinda our fault, too…”
 
“….I believe…it would be better to drop this issue….but I do not think it is wise, ma’am, for you to heal another person, given that you reportedly healed three, not including yourself, yesterday.” The agent used the respectful term almost like an insult when he spoke.
 
“Overuse of magic, as far as I have seen, though I have no powers myself, takes its toll on a person’s health. Either you are very stupid and do not know your own limits, or know your limits, and continue to push yourself, despite that.”
 
Goodness, this agent was a know-it-all.
 
“I do not expect you people to show mercy without a decent bargain.” Elysia replied flatly.
 
“Eh….well….”
 
There was another awkward pause.
 
“I…suppose we can let this go….after all, you did put an end to the chase, and though you are meddling in an issue unrelated to you, we’ve already succeeded in waking up everyone in this hallway, and made a large enough mess as it is. The eyes of the public are upon us.” The Agent raised one brow.
 
“Though….for your healing, we don’t need it. We’ve got healers, you know.”
 
“Well, fair enough, then.” Elysia probably wanted to punch this man, but was keeping an expert-level reign on her temper.
 
“Alright, well, gents!” The Agent clapped his hands, “Let’s go! Back to your stations, everyone watching, clear off, nothing to see, here.”
 
With this, everyone slowly dissipated, grumbling, except for one guard who remained behind, looking at Elysia, “You know, you could have been arrested, too, for getting involved.”
 
“Probably.” Elysia shrugged, “It is very, very early, and what have I got to lose?” She said dismissively, as if being tired was somehow impairing her thinking.
 
“I…see…” The guard was perplexed by the vague reply, before turning and walking away. “Don’t do this again, not either one of you, ya hear?” Was his parting statement.
 
 
This left the hallway empty, save for Mouse, Elysia, and anyone who had come out of their rooms to watch the whole mess unfold.
 
“…Thank you…” Mouse said quietly.
 
“For the moment, the sooner we leave this world, the better.” Elysia replied. “I am sick of these towns without trees and these glaring, windowless rooms. I have spoken with more people in these past two days than I have in years. I am tired.”
 
She began to walk off, “I am going outside.” She said, probably wanting some fresh air.
 
 
This left Mouse the only person remaining in the hallway.
 
What a mess this was.

You can’t even escape what you escape from, in the end.

Well, that was ominous, and perhaps had more meaning for Thray than Riley could possibly know. He stared for a moment, realizing the comment was not directed at him but rather at herself. It seemed she too dealt with her own demons. “Just a dream,” he echoed. “I get them pretty bad too.” For a few seconds he considered lying back down, but the sudden commotion in the hall outside changed his mind. Alright, alright. It was evidently time to get up. Who was yelling? Stars, he wanted nothing more than a nice, tall glass of water right now. And a hot shower.

Begrudgingly Thray swung his legs off the bed and stood up. He gathered up his belongings and clipped everything back into place, the belt around his waist and his cloak over his shoulders. Lastly he pulled his boots back on and then stood up.

“Feels like morning,” he commented, “but I could be wrong.” At home in the eternal night of outer space, he had the internal lights of his ship fade and brighten to simulate the time of day. It seemed this place had no such technologies, but he didn’t expect a base on a garden world to have what would be a redundancy. If only he they had a window. “Guess there’s only one way to find out,” he continued, making for the door.

Early in the morning, likely around 5 AM, Desin tired of sleeplessly waiting for the next day to come. I wonder if anyone is up yet he wondered, looking over at Goose as the man continued to sleep.

He moved the door open, and began to walk the halls of the building, getting the layout down as he explored. One of the issues with being someone of his kind in a world full of mortals was the lack of need to sleep or eat. And because of this, it was fairly easy to have a surplus of down time regularly. A large surplus unfortunately.

Soon he came upon Mouse, the quiet girl from earlier who always was wrapped in bandages. Desin approached her, and decided to greet his fellow traveler "Can't sleep? Or do you not need it?"

Goose had just been woken up from the ruckus outside his room, stolen away from the dreamland in which he had encountered a giant floating and talking banana. It was unusual for him to have such a lighthearted dream; he was used to giving up on sleep halfway through the night because of all the terrible nightmares he had. Such a dream made it seem like Spodot was amongst them. With the Gjothyme basically dead along with all of his brothers and sisters, his subconscious might have been hoping, although when he was awake and aware, he didn't see the point of it. Conflicting feelings, that was a first for him. He never really was a downer, because he never had anything to be upset about. For once in his life there was something to be worried about, which didn't sit well with him.

Goose rolled over in his bed. Desin wasn't there, which didn't surprise him. He seemed like an early riser. Smart people were always like that.

He laid in his bed for a good five minutes before realizing that it wasn't worth it to get up. Maybe he could just wait until the agents come get him. He could just pretend that he was sleeping anyway. Having some more dreams seemed exciting to him, now that he didn't have such terrible nightmares.

***

Du-Gant had slowly been edging off the bed without realizing it, clanging on the floor. He slowly rose, sensing the others outside his door. He would've asked Ed to open the door for him, but he was sleeping. He didn't want to startle him by screaming, so he tried a different way to wake him up, by patting one of his hearts onto Ed's face. The eerie whispers were going on all night. They surprisingly didn't wake Ed up.

***

Thukr didn't react to the sounds coming outside the door, she simply stood, attempting to wake herself up, slowly starting her flow again.

Lexy
It had taken Lexy a while to finally manage to fall asleep; the nerves from the day and excitement for the next day merged together and she ended up staring at the ceiling for what felt like the longest of times before she finally managed to fall asleep. The warm, dreamless sleep was interrupted by yelling, however, and Lexy’s eyes were quick to snap open and her body quick to sit up. She had always been a morning person, quick to wake up completely. Her bright eyes traveled the room as she quietly slid out of bed.  She didn’t even check to see if Honey was awake before talking to her.

“Um, Honey, do you know what’s going on?” she asked quietly. If someone were to currently look at Lexy, they would see her hair in complete disarray from sleep, sticking straight up, in some areas.

----------------------
Riley

Riley flinched hen she heard the commotion outside their room, her head turning quickly towards the door as she tried to make out some of the words before giving up and focusing on the emotional energy she could sense coming from the hallway. Most of the people involved were on edge, but the situation did not seem to be an emergency. She looked back at Thray when he began speaking before looking back at the door, only nodding in agreement. Initially, she wasn't planning on moving from her current place to go check on those in the hallway, but when she realized Thray was going to leave, she scrambled to get ready, as well. Being alone in a dark room wasn't something she thought she could handle, right now.

"They really need some windows or a clock or something in here," Riley mumbled in response to Thray's statement about whether or not it was morning as she followed him, her curiosity about the commotion growing without her realizing it.

By the time she had walked out into the hallway, the situation had calmed, having only succeeded in getting her out of bed, considering the fact that she was already awake. Riley sighed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "So everything's okay, then. That's good." Not that she didn't know it was okay when she could only sense their emotions, of course. It was more like she wanted to say something in response to whatever just happened. She watched as Desin approached the desert woman before heading down the hallway, hoping to find a worker to ask about maybe finding a change of clothes or something. That would be nice to have.

Veil fought with his inner distrust of his situation before finally succumbing to sleep on the uncomfortable bed, his strange roommate's presence notwithstanding. He awoke to the sound of a muffled commotion, and nearly drew his sword from its sheath in a self-defense reflex.  He scanned the room, looking for any intruders. There was no-one beside Callisto, who lay on her bed like a sack of bricks. [i]How elegant[i],  Veil thought to himself.

He rose up off the bed and stretched for a moment before proceeding to venture out into the hallway of the dormitory.  He saw some other Travelers wandering off in opposite directions, and saw no particular reason to pursue them.  He decided to walk back into the sleeping quarters, and upon doing so focused his attention on his roommate. *"Are you asleep?" he inquired.



*original post: "'Wake up, Callisto,' he said."

Mouse
 
Mouse silently looked up at the man who had spoken to her, her gaze sullen, “Sleep is a need….but seldom met, given my pet’s needs…at least now she has fur.” She shifted Whisker in her arms, now covered in the light, fluffy beginnings of a dark brown coat. “…I have sacrificed much to keep this creature alive….but a rat….would be more trustworthy than other humans...humans will leave you for dead when it suits them…”
 
Mouse had a constant, inner conflict with herself. One side was inclined to be grateful that the shapeshifter had rescued her from being detained, but when she’d thanked her, it was only a half-hearted expression of gratitude, the reluctance to admit she had been helped thick in her voice. The other half resented the woman for being so quick to grab Mouse’s arm, with those same red claws that had been coated in human blood, previously, of all the vile substances that could be named. The smell was still in her nose; the woman had reeked of it, and she could smell no other creature’s death in that mix. Mouse may have been human, but make no mistake, her nose was perhaps more sensitive than any other human she had ever met. The man speaking to Mouse had fought but did not smell of blood, but also, he had not made physical contact in any way, and though he was polite and she returned that courtesy, she did not want to form friendly connections with anyone. Still, she hated the smell; it brought to mind too many painful sights and experiences from the wastes, and made her want to run for cover, thinking a predator was dismembering someone over the horizon.
 
Mouse knew it was a terrible thing, it was her own fault for immediately reacting with hostility and violence, despite Elysia’s argument that had somehow persuaded the guards to leave her alone (That, she supposed, was nothing short of a remarkable ability to sow self-doubt and point out obvious oversights, while using your terrifying reputation to your advantage). Elysia had probably been more worried over Whisker, than Mouse, but it seemed on some level that the woman had...understood…something that they had in common. This was perhaps even more alarming than being grabbed, the thought that this woman was seeing inside Mouse’s head, figuring out how her mind worked so quickly. Mouse’s first impulse when woken up while being grabbed was to assume she was being attacked; it was an automatic reflex to run, and perhaps even that might have been forgiven amicably, were it not for her deciding to cut someone, versus permitting capture. But Mouse hated being cornered, it was terrifying, and reminded her of why she had wound up acting this way in the beginning.
 
In the end, Mouse knew she had mishandled the situation, it was entirely her fault even if the shapeshifter had managed to come up with alternative ways of blaming the Central workers in a swift attempt to bail her out of trouble, but another part of herself still wanted to shift blame to the people who had refused to provide food for Whisker. There was still, regardless of Mouse’s actions, no excuse for why people would be so lazy as to refuse to search for it, when there was an entire crate of baby formula inside the storage area. Whisker could not go without food, although she had been well-cared for by her adoptive parent.
 
She was a healthy baby rat, but that health could deteriorate so quickly, and Mouse knew from when she had found Whisker, becoming thin, with peeling skin and shivering, next to several other pups that had already passed. Her heart had been filled with so much pity then. Mouse had committed to finding orphaned pups before she even left for the wastes as a Scavenger, but what she saw had filled her heart with an odd mix of grief and horror. Whisker had barely survived those first two days before her health returned and she began gaining weight normally, the peeling skin finally stopping once she was protected from the scorching sun.
 
Mouse inspected Whisker, “…A week old now…one more…before the eyes open…I eagerly wait for her independence…”
 
At least with the dusting of fur, Whisker was now beginning to look more like a cute baby with closed, bulging eyes now, versus a squishy pink blob with an absence of any slits to indicate eyelids and dark patches where the eyes should have been. Newborn rats looked almost fetal in appearance. It wasn’t until their fluffy fur began to grow in that they began to look more appealing. As of now, Whisker still had the pink skin visible, but it was becoming more hidden thanks to the color of the fuzz.
 
“Despite their size….they still develop….quite fast.” Mouse mused.
 
 
Honey
 
Before Lexy had even said anything to Honey, she wound up laying wide awake in bed, just keeping her eyes closed and quietly hoping she would fall back asleep before she got involved in the mess going on outside. When her roommate asked her about the commotion, however, Honey groaned, keeping her eyes closed, “Aww…I don’t wanna get up….” She whined, although it was clear from the exaggerated tone that this was done more for the sake of humor, than an actual, serious complaint. Although she was definitely awake earlier than she would have liked, Honey would not complain over something so basic. She was just saying aloud what she was sure most people were probably thinking right now. It would be hard for most people to sleep during all that shouting, and the few people that could sleep deeply enough to ignore it, were probably near-impossible to wake up until they were rested enough to rise on their own.
 
“It’s a mess, Lexy,” Honey murmured, one large ear twitching, her eyes still closed. “Someone broke into the storage rooms, or something…” She took deep breaths, speaking slowly, still a bit groggy and tired, “I didn’t hear that person’s voice, real quiet…but as far as I can tell, they started running and assaulted someone to get away….I think Ellie bailed them out, somehow…she should have been a defense attorney…kinda impressive she managed to do that…”
 
She opened one eye, and saw Lexy’s hair, but did not say anything, though one brow raised a bit, “Oh…wait…her name’s not actually Ellie, it’s Elysia, you haven’t met her, yet…sorry, I’m a bit slow in the mornings….”
 
Honey slowly sat up, pawing at her mane a bit to get it out of her face, “Why did morning have to come….gah….I was having a lovely dream about plants, and now, I can’t remember any of it…”
 
 
Konrad
 
Konrad slowly sat up, his bright blue eyes glowing in the darkness, “I did not wish to become involved with the commotion outside…” He began slowly. He had been lying awake in bed the moment people came running down the hallway. Being alert was not difficult, given his role as an escort, and the fact that being attacked in your sleep was painfully common. Not only this, but Konrad did not sleep well in a normal bed, regardless. Despite his history as a noble, and his past where his bed would have been the softest in the entire residence, stuffed with goose down, Konrad had lost his taste for those luxuries. He had spent more recent times sleeping on the ground, or hard flooring surfaces during his escort missions.
 
Common survival practice traveling in wilderness areas was that someone should build something to keep above the ground to sleep, as the nights would cause the ground to grow cold. Konrad, however, possessing insulating feathers and immense size, was often forced to sacrifice for the companions around him. His feathers kept him plenty warm, and he did not mind sleeping on the ground, but the presence of rain and mud potentially ruining his coat upset him. Although someone could argue that Konrad, with extra help, would easily manage to construct a larger platform, it was not normal for Konrad to escort Travelers who were capable. Many Travelers placed in Konrad’s care were from sheltered upbringings in civilized societies, having none of the needed knowledge. Some were physically weak compared to what worlds they were expected to face.
 
Most of Konrad’s charges still thought a good shelter entailed putting a roof over your head. A roof was nice, but water was more dangerous than the cold itself; it rapidly drained heat from the body.
 
Fire, of course, could easily keep people warm, but this was not always an option. A camp with a fire sometimes attracted attention, and for many Travelers who were alien species, or sometimes wearing strange clothing, attention was dangerous. Most escorts compared the life of a Traveler who was avoiding conflict to the same scenario faced by a criminal fugitive hiding in the forest. Even for people who could fend off potential threats posed by the natives of a world—it certainly was not right to kill and harm individuals that were probably only terrified civilians.
 
…This in mind, Konrad often rendered his enemies unconscious, versus killing. This was not to say that he completely refrained from killing, or that he judged others who did. Konrad’s thoughts on how to deal with witnesses in other worlds was a unique context. It had no relation to the terroristic attack the day before, or how Konrad viewed that. In fact, Konrad seemed to lack any opinion at all on this; he tried to imagine the scene from so many different viewpoints, it was not possible to make a proper conclusion. Everyone thought their actions, what they did or what they said, was justified, and when everyone is justified, there is no longer any point to obsessing.
 
…Perhaps Konrad should have an opinion, but he decided against it. His opinion on the entire mess, was to have no opinion at all, either consciously, or unconsciously. He did not have the type of heart, anymore, to accuse or judge anyone, not the people who had fled, nor the ones who had fought. He was aligned to neither side of an argument, or both. Konrad would be a person who contradicted everything and nothing. Anyone wanting to know his feelings would only receive enigmatic replies, or a long string of babbling inconsistencies. Konrad’s thought processes were so far removed from reality, at times, that it was migraine-inducing, to try to follow anything he was thinking. It was possible that he thought so deeply about things, so much about reality, that he had driven himself mad.
 
...Even so, Konrad felt liberated, freed of the need to be a moral compass, or of the compulsion to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. He had been enlightened to the idea that it was all completely meaningless. It was a completely valid opinion to let yourself fall so deep into confusion that you stopped functioning properly.
 
 
Konrad looked over at Thukr, his eyes easily perceiving that she had seemingly solidified over the course of the night, “Quite early, I should think, for such noise, is it not? Perhaps it is normal, given we do not have any windows or clocks to indicate the time.”
 
 
 
Edward
 
Even with Du-Gant actively pressing a floating heart against his face, Edward did little more than stir slightly, and roll over on the bed to face in the opposite direction.
 
This kid was hard to wake up by most standards. He hadn’t budged even with all of the shouting in the hallway. He was too busy dreaming about some sort of gigantic sentient banana creature, and then some other person arriving and telling him the world didn’t really exist. The end result of the dream was Ed questioning his own sanity, somehow failing to recognize he was dreaming.
 
He did not wake up even when he stepped out of a room that clearly showed a cityscape into the middle of a boardwalk suspended above a massive meadow, filled with flowers. Going back the way he had come, the building, having become a gigantic wooden structure filled with windows, transitioned him into what looked like a dark cave. A candle flickered in an alcove somewhere, unseen, but illuminating the walls.
 
In the distance, he barely registered a murmuring voice, and heard a splash
 
“Ah….what…….pain….there’s water here…got…..find another way…”
 
The words were too broken up to make clear sense.
 
Edward turned back and went through another door, this time standing in front of what seemed to be a gigantic, humanoid fish-creature, its yellow eyes blinking at him lazily. He was now on a sandy strip in the middle of an endless ocean, blue skies overhead.
 
“…Who are you?” It asked
 
Ed discovered he was unable to answer, he could not get himself to speak, despite great effort.
 
“I said, where did you take _____ !?”
 
A particularly loud wave completely blurred out the name.
 
Of course, the scene would melt into something else again.
 
Dreams were often like this, but most people would not recognize dreams as real, not initially. This was despite inconsistencies with reality.

Goose was able to slip back to sleep rather quickly. He expected another dream about something lighthearted. He thought that he was free from the imprisoned ocean's currents, but that didn't seem to be the case.

He found himself in the main catacombs of Triviis' temple. Some sort of vividness was present in his dream, almost making it seem like he was there in person. The shrines to the ancients were all vandalized with strange markings made of tar. He came up to the main altar where False should have been encased in the block of emerald, emphasis on should. He wasn't there. The emerald was never cracked open in order for False to escape, he was just gone. There were some sort of soothing whispers that surrounded Goose. He couldn't tell what they were saying; there were too many of them. A sense of calm overcame him, an eerie kind of calm. Tension built suddenly, the whispers getting louder, turning into the sound of gasps for air. And like that, he awoke.

Goose sat up in bed, panicked. He didn't know why he was scared, nothing scary had happened in his dream... Dream? It was just a dream. Byauk. Part of him wished it wasn't a dream. Part of him also wished that he could have continued the dream with the banana being. Dealing with the people in this world stressed him out. He knew everyone in Triviis, even the truths. Why couldn't that have been the case here?

Goose got out of bed and found the sweet potato that he had left on his nightstand. It had probably gone bad by then, but he didn't care. Food was food. He took a bite out of it. While doing that, he ventured out of his room, and noticed that there were some things going on down the hall. He looked the other way at first, but just to see if anything else was happening. Nothing that way. He decided to inspect what the others were doing.

Goose began, "What happened here? I heard some yelling earlier. Did I miss a fight?"

***

After a whole minute of trying to wake Ed up, Du-Gant changed tactics. He took his hearts back to his side, and spoke with a scream, "WAKE UP, PLEASE." Hopefully he wouldn't give Ed a heart attack.

***

Thukr did not move to acknowledge Konrad. Instead, she spoke. "Time is an odd concept to me. I never seem to understand it. Time is what makes you age. That is all I know."

She could feel an egg in her tubes, trying to escape. She treated it by tightening her gut, effectively subduing it. She wondered if there were any more eggs that she would have to tend to. Thukr would be in trouble if she left her eggs alive. They didn't have the ability to restrain themselves like Thukr did. Consuming everything to the point where there was only bioprime. It was rather horrifying to Thukr. The world didn't need another stacker.