subject_013 | deerington/deercountry Inbox

"I have a feeling I'm better off not knowing what flavor of weird we're dealing with, though doubtlessly it had to deal with something getting into one's bloodstream which has no right being there.

"If it's any consolation, I've run across myths and legends of wondrous pale things: the Wampanoag of the North East believed that deer with white fur were the messengers of the Great Spirit. And the Lakota of the Plains believed that long ago, their tribe were saved by the wisdom of a white buffalo which transformed into a woman," he says, glancing up to the moon. "To this day, they consider the sight of a white buffalo to be a blessing and a warning, and the birth of a white buffalo is considered a sign of changes to come.

The vapor starts to coalesce into an animal shape perched on his shoulder, something fairly small but long and slender with short legs. The vapor solidifies and darkens into a small brown weasel.

"Oi, 'as anyone told you your 'ead is a dark an' wee-yud place, boss?", the critter asks, leaning over to look into Wesker's face. The critter then turns around toward Luz. "Oh, 'allo. Found your way t' this world, too? Welcome t' Trench. ..Luz, is it?"

"Not me. I definitely think I need to know what's going on with all of this weirdness. I was just jumping into things before when I wound up in Deerington, but now I have the chance to get all this information first hand!"

If that was any kind of easing of mind, only Luz Noceda could find it!

"That does put me a little at ease. I'm not sure exactly what will be the drawbacks or the assets of being a Paleblood, but maybe it'll be better not to jump to conclusions yet. Hey, what's that?"

Oh, it was a weasel! And it talked with a Cockney accent, that was so cute!

"I have, weasel friend, thanks for noticing! Yup, I'm Luz! What's your name?"

"Mmm, the locals here seem far more helpful than they did at Deerington, even friendly. This welcome was... almost a shock compared to arriving in this world's predecessor, as if they see us as kindred. I wonder if this what an extended family feels like," he muses.

"Give it time, you'll discover it's strengths and how to balance any frailties - Here, what's this?" The release of his Omen doesn't hurt in the least, but having a literal brain weasel emerge from one's head would put anyone, even the most implacable man, out of sorts the first time it happens.

"Call me Cypher. Nice t' finally meet yah, Luz!" the critter says, cheerily.

"You took the name of the sly fellow in the first Matrix movie?" Wesker asks, dryly bemused.

"Why not? Y' always found that bloke funny."

Wesker raises both pale eyebrows and looks to Luz, still bemused by this. "I pray your Omen is less of a joker, but that may be cursing it into existence."

"Maybe? I mean, I'm more of a found family fan myself, but I'm certainly fine with extended ones too! Granted, that was not the only thing that shocked me about this place."

The blood magic was certainly an adjustment.

"I'm sure you're right, I'm just getting the hang of some things. They're definitely taking some time to use right."

Luz raised an eyebrow. "Cypher? The jerk that sells them out and kills off Apoc, Mouse and that underappreciated character Switch? Don't know how much of a 'sly' character he is."

Someone had apparently had certain feelings about that movie.

"Oh, Tempest doesn't talk, but she really doesn't have to. I can hear what she's saying loud and clear!"

He may glance about without turning his head, as if making certain no one pays them much mind. The accordion player has paused, and a few other large-eyed folk have joined him, chattering among themselves.

"I'll let you in on something I haven't shared with many people: I lost my family at a young age. I was taken in by a wealthy scientist, but while he provided well for my physical and intellectual needs and while he had adopted twelve other children like me, it wasn't a warm and wondrous upbringing. Family is... a foreign notion to me, at best." And this is as much as he's willing to reveal on the subject. Certainly not the megalomaniacal plans he and his siblings were meant to be part of, much less how it ended.

"Every story needs a good antagonist. He had some of the funniest lines in the movie, for one thing. For another... I suspect he was a true believer who grew disillusioned and when that happened, as all too often happens, he turned hard in the opposite direction," he muses.

He glances to his own Omen. "Perhaps you could take a page from Tempest's book."

"Where would be the fun in that?" Cypher retorts, paws on hips.

Yup, a story teller is bound to garner some attention. Luz herself was listening attentively.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I was born as the only child, and even then my dad wasn't around for very long. I've been raised by only my mom as long as I can remember. After that, if I've been with other people, we all tend to look out for each other, whether it was on the Isles or here. I couldn't imagine someone adopting me only to act like I was just one of many."

Luz frowned. "But he wasn't that antagonist, the Matrix was. He knew the truth, and chose comfort over fighting to live. Artificial reality was more important than those who cared for each other and struggled together. That doesn't sound like a way I'd ever want to live."

Luz was all about living her truth, no matter how hard it was. She chuckled at Cypher's retort though.

"All of our Omens are just a little different from us. I think I like that about them, honestly. I think I agree with Cypher there."

Edited 2021-10-09 09:17 (UTC)

The fish folk band fortunately are tinkering among themselves: one has taken a mandolin from their back, while another tunes a guitar and a third taps a few practice beats on a hand drum.

"Better not to imagine it, then. Perhaps there's hope that anyone may find their own found family." With the unspoken implication that it may apply to him. Something like longing, wanting this may flicker in his strange eyes and then fades back into his usual quiet anger.

"True, though as horribly as the Machines treated the humans, they were harmed first, and sadly, they may have learned to oppress them from the way humanity treated them in the first place. Considering how humanity scorched the sky and ruined their own planet, it may have been a mercy to live in a simulation, though... it wasn't implemented in the most humane fashion." We admit, someone may have some insights into the rationale of the Machines, given his training - read, the awful rewiring of his mind.

Cypher points to her with one paw. "I like this girl! she gets it!"

"I like her as well," Wesker admits out loud, and for once, he's completely truthful, no shades of a secondary meaning.

"Of course there is! I didn't know what I was doing when I first got to Deerington, I was lucky that Eda was already there and then I found Margot not long after! It might take a little time, but you'll find them, trust me!"

Luz squinted her eyes. She was very anti-Cypher, and just as anti-simulation.

"I did see the Animatrix! Luckily mom wasn't with me to see that or I never would have. You were definitely right about what humans did with the machines and how they treated them. I'd love to say that humanity isn't that cruel, but that's not true. The easier machines make things for human beings, the more they expect technology to make their lives easier. I'd hate the idea of living in a simulation, but right now, that reality tends to make sense for the way people are than I'd like it to be."

Luz wanted to be an idealist, but she was also dabbling in being realistic. Thanks, Deerington. Also, the first section of Animatriz? Waaay too sexual.

She grinned at good Cypher. "I'm on Neo's side! Fight back against the simulation!"

Well now Luz was blushing. "Aw shucks. Thanks Wesker!"

"If I had to choose a side? Hmm... Probably the Exiles, but I'd avoid that Frenchman." He rolls his eyes, wincing just a fraction. For that matter, he'd been something like the Frenchman, minus the sexual obnoxiousness, a trader in information, only in his case he had been brought low. "There has to be a third option: release those who seek release, retain those for whom the Real would be too much to bear."

He bows his head to her, tipping his hand. "My pleasure, my dear."

The fish folk band converse among themselves, clearly settling on what piece to play. Someone murmurs a suggestion, and the others make agreeable noises. They strike up a jaunty, dancelike melody, starting first on guitar and mandolin, the drummer and the accordion player gradually joining in.

Wesker tilts his head, listening. "....Parson's Farewell. That's a very old piece in my world of origin." He turns to her. "Shall we bid farewell to the shore and move inland?

"Ugh! Yes, definitely avoiding him, woof! What a creep."

Look, she understood what she was and was not supposed to see, and a person like that? That was clearly someone Luz knew she wanted to stay away from. It was like a grosser version of Warden Wrath and his obsession with Eda.

Luz listened with vested interest, then turned to Wesker and gave him a nod.

"Sure! I think my legs have been feeling pretty wobbly anyway. I could use a more stable ground."

"I can carry you on my shoulders if you welcome that," he offers, kneeling to her level. He hasn't done this since Birkin's daughter was a wee tyke, but some part of who he was then has remained intact, deep within his psyche, reawakened by his journeys and the brighter souls who crossed his paths.

Hmm. Should she allow that? She WAS an adult, she really should just be walking around herself. Then again, she was also pretty tired and hadn't had that kind of assistance since the Doctor. Who was she to say no?

"If you don't mind the weight," Luz said modestly, which was ridiculous. Luz was the weight of a sponge.

He chuckles, even affectionately. "Dearheart, I have the strength of five men in my shoulders. Carrying you would be like carrying a sparrow, and a cherished one at that," he says. And he'll kneel beside her, lowering his head to her as he does so.

"Whoa, five? Must be all those heavy trench coats you have! Wait, a sparrow! I'm at least a crow, thank you!"

She could literally turn into one anyway, but she leapt onto his shoulders nonetheless.

"I'm doing this. Begrudgedly."

He chuckles, deep in his throat, but the usual sinister note has absented itself. "It's a little more involved, but the heavy leather helps. Methinks the young magic-user doth protest too much," he muses. "But if you prefer a crow, then a crow it is." He tucks the paper cone of chestnuts he'd been nursing into the open guitar case laying open before the fish folk band (fish-folk band? fish folk-band??), then rises with Luz on his shoulders, his Omen riding inside the neck of his shirt. The drum-playing fishperson, without missing a beat, nods to them both.

Wesker strides off, bearing Luz as he heads up the Boardwalk, heading toward the Lamp. "The first day of the rest of our lives..." he muses, almost thinking out loud.

Edited 2021-11-07 05:24 (UTC)

"Looks like you have some stories to tell me then," Luz said without missing a beat. Look, there was a time to play housekeeper and frantic young teen going on full teenager, and a time to accept piggie back. Luz knew enough when to accept she was still a kid in people's eyes, and she was fine with that, mostly. Wesker at least knew not to try and shield her from things she could weather on her own.

"I DO prefer crow. A group of them is called a murder, you don't get more hardcore than that."

The most mature and obvious reason, of course.

"If its a day like this, I'll take it," Luz piped up. "There are worse days than this one coming up, I bet."

"Stories involving everything from mad science, to zombies, to corporate espionage, to a science-based cult lead by a madman who wished to become a god," he says, with a lilt suggesting at so much more besides.

He chuckles, pleased. "Corvids are generally hardcore, but crows and ravens are their royalty," he muses.

He may grow quiet, edging onto the cold brooding he falls into that chills to the point of burning. However, he has a package of pleasant on his shoulders and he pulls himself back. "If this world is anything like its predecessor, no doubt, we shall have more experiences to add to our stock of dark stories.."

The glow of the Lamp appears out of the mist up ahead. He strides up to it, pausing before it. "Shall we pass through?"

"Man, this place sounds like another dystopia. Why do so many worlds have that going on?"

It must have been some weird luck she was born in some world where nothing as interesting happened until she actually left it. To think though, that some worlds were on par with this one on how bad things could get.

Luz nodded. "Darn right! And I've been pretty into birds, or was anyway."

Wolves had recently come into her life, and they were kind of their own thing.

"I think you're right about that. But at the very least, there's no Julia or Mother Superior. At least we don't have to feel like there's a target painted on our backs. we can at least have moments to breathe easy!"

Whenever they came and they had the foresight to see them.

Luz looked at the lamp and nodded. "Let's go!"

"In my world, it depended on your perspective: the average person barely suspected what went on in the shadows. The worst of the outbreaks was explained away as mass hysteria, but people had started to see the loose ends in the narrative. It wouldn't surprise me if the powers in this place had an affinity for summoning those of us who hail from such dark worlds. We likely have more resilience," he notes.

"We'll see what manner of treatment our new hosts give to us. At least whomever they are, they allow for warm welcomes," he notes. He's accepted this world as his life, but dwelling in the predecessor to this world, to say nothing of the preparedness his world of origin gave him.

"Further up and further in," he murmurs and steps into the glow of the Lamp...

...The pull of the lamp draws them through into the warm lights of the windows in what looks like a fantasy inn. "Well. Dare we expect a warm fireside with travelers meeting for the first time, a darkling stranger watching from the corner?" he muses.

"That sounds like how my world might operate, if things like that were a thing. For all I know, that might even be the case. There isn't a lot that our own government tells us in the long run, and a lot of what we could know is sacrificed for comfort a lot of the time. I think you're right about people having more resilience from darker worlds though. I've always thought that was why a lot of us are here."

Luz nodded. She could definitely agree with that. They still had to be wary about a lot of things.

And now they were pulled into some kind of inn, where it looked like it could be something right out of a horror story.

"Only if they sing a rousing ale song and can carry a tune," Luz replied, giving him a totally-approving-of-this-place look.

He'll kneel, and if she allows, he'll help her down from his shoulders.

"Like something straight from Lord of the Rings," he muses, leading the way, his hand straying close to the dagger at his belt. "Though if there's any ale involved, I'm the one drinking it," he adds, with a mischievously paternal lilt.

Luz will totally allow him to help her, as she can sometimes be all limbs when it comes to that kind of thing.

"Ugh, gladly. I do not get why any kid wants to drink something that's so bitter. I'll stick with Boba tea and soda, thanks. The only thing I'd envy those dwarves for are the songs: they have GREAT songs."

He'll lead the way up the path to the door, hitching his Robe a little higher and winding one corner around the back of his head as a hood.

"As a former teenager myself, it's the lure of the forbidden, though when I was fourteen, I was starting medical school and already knew much about the effects of alcohol on the human body," he muses. Reaching the door, he pulls it open and steps aside to let her enter first.

Luz chuckled. "Yes, well, maybe I might have been curious if I hadn't seen kids my age and a little older drunk in a strange hotel. They might not even remember me from then, but I remember. Seems like a lot of fuss for something that makes you act silly but not remember it."

Luz watched what he did and also put her hood up, though considering the cat ears, it looked somewhat less dramatic.

"Ahhh, yes, what I had dubbed 'the idiot parade' at the Grady Hotel. They seemed to have a thing for clomping like drunken moose in the hallway outside the door to my room," he says, dryly. "In moderation, it's a pleasure, but without that moderation, it's a painful thing to all involved."

They step into a warmly lit taproom, a fire on the hearth with a hunting dog laying on the fur rug before it, a few patrons already gathered, the innkeeper behind the bar looking up from wiping out a pewter tankard. "New Sleepers, eh?" the innkeeper notes. "What'll ye have?"

deerington/deercountry Inbox - UN:A_Wesker013

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