There was barely the first rays of daylight, dull in the air and casting the shadows down the city streets. Between them the blanket of morning fog has taken over leaving the air thick and cool. The quiet sounds of stirring life, the quiet hum of background noise slowly began to work its way through the alleyways. Some were already awake, repeating the same routine they had many a time before. So stuck in their ways they barely paid attention to the small differences of the world around them.
The fog swirled, thicker and heavier in places. Clumping together before dispersing once more.
She peeled from the mists themselves. The once incorporeal gaining shape and solidifying. Hand clawing forward as if to grasp upon something. Behind the cold icy feeling tried to drag her back, the numbed senses returning to her as it slipped. The feeling snapped, and it was with a more forceful stagger that she went forwards.
Hekater felt her face meet the alley way wall, hands splayed to braced against the impact. Chest heaved, eyes blinked, an uncomfortable cold having sunk into her. She released a shiver, prompting her to shake herself out. Her hand gave a firm pat against the brick wall of the alleyway, brow creasing to the rough texture before looking to the immediate scene before her.
An alleyway, the scent of decay and rubbish catching her senses. She spotted the source quickly, the overflowing trash cans were obvious enough. Beyond the alley mouth she could hear the faint rumble of noise, an engine coming to life. Her hand gave another pat against the wall, her feet cautiously treading the ground. Puddles filled with dirty water, her eyes spotted the movement of others beyond a momentary pause of wariness. They did not seem to notice her, and so she continued to make her movements forward.
Human. The neutral expression had a tired curl of the lips flicker into life before returning once more. The scents, the feeling, the lacking of anything magic. There was no illusion here, no tricks being weaved. This was real. She had done it.
"Home," she breathed.
The changeling peeled out from the alleyway into the street, eyes slightly wide as she drunk the world in. Enchanted yet still equally oblivious to the perils around her. She barely caught the sight of the vehicle coming towards her as she went to step out into the road itself. A loud honk erupted from it, instinct causing her to jerk back onto the path. It did not stop as it sped past and onward, but the angry shout was clearly directed at her, "Watch the hell where you're going!"
The fog swirled, thicker and heavier in places. Clumping together before dispersing once more.
She peeled from the mists themselves. The once incorporeal gaining shape and solidifying. Hand clawing forward as if to grasp upon something. Behind the cold icy feeling tried to drag her back, the numbed senses returning to her as it slipped. The feeling snapped, and it was with a more forceful stagger that she went forwards.
Hekater felt her face meet the alley way wall, hands splayed to braced against the impact. Chest heaved, eyes blinked, an uncomfortable cold having sunk into her. She released a shiver, prompting her to shake herself out. Her hand gave a firm pat against the brick wall of the alleyway, brow creasing to the rough texture before looking to the immediate scene before her.
An alleyway, the scent of decay and rubbish catching her senses. She spotted the source quickly, the overflowing trash cans were obvious enough. Beyond the alley mouth she could hear the faint rumble of noise, an engine coming to life. Her hand gave another pat against the wall, her feet cautiously treading the ground. Puddles filled with dirty water, her eyes spotted the movement of others beyond a momentary pause of wariness. They did not seem to notice her, and so she continued to make her movements forward.
Human. The neutral expression had a tired curl of the lips flicker into life before returning once more. The scents, the feeling, the lacking of anything magic. There was no illusion here, no tricks being weaved. This was real. She had done it.
"Home," she breathed.
The changeling peeled out from the alleyway into the street, eyes slightly wide as she drunk the world in. Enchanted yet still equally oblivious to the perils around her. She barely caught the sight of the vehicle coming towards her as she went to step out into the road itself. A loud honk erupted from it, instinct causing her to jerk back onto the path. It did not stop as it sped past and onward, but the angry shout was clearly directed at her, "Watch the hell where you're going!"
Zrin leaned against the brick building, He looked around the busy street. He didn’t quite know what to look for, But he’d know it when he saw it. His heavy white coat protected his upper body from the biting cold air. An ornate, white skirt covers his legs from waist to toes. He played with his gloves as he continued his search for the unknown.The denizens of the city walking by the avian without a second glance
The air seemed to get chiller. Zrin felt the air bite through his coat and became a little more frantic in his searching. He pushed off the wall and started to walk away. An unnatural fog caught his eye. He turned his head to look down the derelict alley. The fog seemed to be emanating from an uninteresting point in space. He stared down the alley, Watching this fog dance in the cold air.
The fog seemed to coalesce into a figure. This figure seemed to struggle to break free from the fog. He could feel the energy emanating from the alley. He turned around to see if anyone else was seeing this. Thankfully, Everyone was preoccupied with their routine. He snapped back around when he saw a feminine figure burst from the fog and crash into the wall.
Zrin stepped backwards from the alley. He walked back to the wall outside the alley and leaned back against it. He rested his head on the brick building, His heavy plumage cushioning his head from the hardened wall. A slight grin formed on his beak. He looked up to the overcast sky, Rain was expected later. Zrin always liked rain, It was peaceful.
“Home.”
He heard the female speak from inside the alley. He could hear her running down the alley. The broke the threshold of the alley and sprinted right into the street, Red hair trailing behind her. “Oh, This oughta be good.” Zrin thought to himself. A rapidly approaching vehicle blared its horn. The oddly pale female jump backwards with surprising speed.
"Watch the hell where you're going!" The driver yelled as he passed.
The female was standing on the edge of the curb. Zrin pushed off the wall and stuck his hands into his warm pockets. He walked towards the female. He stood a few feet behind her and said, “You know, People look both ways before they dance into a busy thoroughfare.”
The air seemed to get chiller. Zrin felt the air bite through his coat and became a little more frantic in his searching. He pushed off the wall and started to walk away. An unnatural fog caught his eye. He turned his head to look down the derelict alley. The fog seemed to be emanating from an uninteresting point in space. He stared down the alley, Watching this fog dance in the cold air.
The fog seemed to coalesce into a figure. This figure seemed to struggle to break free from the fog. He could feel the energy emanating from the alley. He turned around to see if anyone else was seeing this. Thankfully, Everyone was preoccupied with their routine. He snapped back around when he saw a feminine figure burst from the fog and crash into the wall.
Zrin stepped backwards from the alley. He walked back to the wall outside the alley and leaned back against it. He rested his head on the brick building, His heavy plumage cushioning his head from the hardened wall. A slight grin formed on his beak. He looked up to the overcast sky, Rain was expected later. Zrin always liked rain, It was peaceful.
“Home.”
He heard the female speak from inside the alley. He could hear her running down the alley. The broke the threshold of the alley and sprinted right into the street, Red hair trailing behind her. “Oh, This oughta be good.” Zrin thought to himself. A rapidly approaching vehicle blared its horn. The oddly pale female jump backwards with surprising speed.
"Watch the hell where you're going!" The driver yelled as he passed.
The female was standing on the edge of the curb. Zrin pushed off the wall and stuck his hands into his warm pockets. He walked towards the female. He stood a few feet behind her and said, “You know, People look both ways before they dance into a busy thoroughfare.”
Her eyes followed after the shape of the vehicle, all curves and shapes that were a far cry from what she knew. The engine a quieter rumble, the sounds of the city quickly grabbing and pulling at her senses. The cling of adrenal snaked through her veins, back straightening as she as she attempted to gain her bearings. She noted at that point she was still breathing hard. The lingering feeling of damp stuck not only to her but the wool of her jumper leaving a cold sinking in. The changeling exhaled, warily staring at the road. So distracted by it and the brightly coloured shapes that travelled along it, she did not notice the approach of the other.
Hekater straightened. Her gaze locked forwards, feet squaring with her shoulders. There was a subtle clicking with the words, a small tilt of the head. Barely within her peripheral vision - she caught the shape of something male, dark colouration, a shoulder. She could not see the rest without turning properly. Hands clasped behind her back, her eyes returning forward. Who was it? What was it? Friend or foe? What did it feel like?
No one else seemed to pay whoever it was too much mind, so it could not have been something too drastically different. There was a trained pivot around on her heel, eyes sweeping over the form quickly before coming to rest upon the torso. He was taller than her, slender, well dressed in comparison to her. The colours worn were contrasting to his own.
He had a bird head.
No. He was a giant talking bird.
The Changeling twitched then. He was not human. What was he? A being of magic? One of the Fae folk? A hunter? A threat?
"You're a bird," she finally managed to say. She felt her jaw clench into a line. Her gaze swirled around him once more, calculating as she took a step back. It was the edge of the curve that stopped her, gaze flickering down to her boots and the traffic that continued past. Each passing would bring out more people, busier and louder. She had to stand her ground for the moment, then when opportunity struck she would take it. The changeling licked her lips, "People do?"
How long had she been away? How had the world seem to have grown so busy in her absence? No, she had to focus on the immediate. Was he a friend or a foe? Fae or otherwise? Another exhale, the voice maintained its monotone state, "Are you with them? Are you one of them?"
Hekater straightened. Her gaze locked forwards, feet squaring with her shoulders. There was a subtle clicking with the words, a small tilt of the head. Barely within her peripheral vision - she caught the shape of something male, dark colouration, a shoulder. She could not see the rest without turning properly. Hands clasped behind her back, her eyes returning forward. Who was it? What was it? Friend or foe? What did it feel like?
No one else seemed to pay whoever it was too much mind, so it could not have been something too drastically different. There was a trained pivot around on her heel, eyes sweeping over the form quickly before coming to rest upon the torso. He was taller than her, slender, well dressed in comparison to her. The colours worn were contrasting to his own.
He had a bird head.
No. He was a giant talking bird.
The Changeling twitched then. He was not human. What was he? A being of magic? One of the Fae folk? A hunter? A threat?
"You're a bird," she finally managed to say. She felt her jaw clench into a line. Her gaze swirled around him once more, calculating as she took a step back. It was the edge of the curve that stopped her, gaze flickering down to her boots and the traffic that continued past. Each passing would bring out more people, busier and louder. She had to stand her ground for the moment, then when opportunity struck she would take it. The changeling licked her lips, "People do?"
How long had she been away? How had the world seem to have grown so busy in her absence? No, she had to focus on the immediate. Was he a friend or a foe? Fae or otherwise? Another exhale, the voice maintained its monotone state, "Are you with them? Are you one of them?"
As he finished with his tease, He noticed her tense up. Her back straightened and her hands met behind her back. Her fingers, They looked almost dead or unfeeling. He could almost feel the frigidness emanating from the tips. He could feel the energy surrounding this mysterious female. He was quite curious about her, She had just walked out of a fog. She obviously wasn’t a normal human. Normal humans don’t feel like this, Or appear out of thin air.
She had been so still he had almost forgotten about her, He was so entrenched in his thoughts. He snapped out of it when she pivoted to face him. The way she did it, Practiced, Regimented, Indoctrinated. That one small maneuver and how she executed it perfectly spoke more than she did.
She stared at his chest, Since it was at her eye level. She then snapped her head up, Meeting his blackened eyes. He stared back with piercing blue irises. He noticed her twitch, She probably hasn’t seen an avian. Most people haven’t seen an avian.
"You're a bird."
It wasn’t a question unlike so many others reactions, It was a statement. Zrin wasn’t quite sure what to think about that. It seemed like she came to terms with that fairly quickly. However, She has probably seen other, Possibly stranger things. They were certainly out there.
“Eh.” Zrin shrugged. He didn’t really know how else to respond. She took a step back, Almost back into the street again. She looked down to her feet, Boots, She was wearing boots. Why was she wearing boots? We’re in the middle of the city, She wasn’t hiking. Where had she been?
More people began to fill the streets as the day moved on. A man sipping on his coffee was on a collision course with Zrin. He sidestepped the man without a second glance. He continued sipping his coffee and walked on in blissful ignorance. She brought attention back to herself when she said, "People do?"
“People do?” Zrin thought. What did that mean, He didn’t understand it. She had said her last statement seemingly normally. Was she actually making sense but he just didn’t understand, Or was she just not making sense? She exhaled once more, "Are you with them? Are you one of them?" She said with a monotony only few could achieve.
This time, Zrin didn’t have to ponder her words like some philosophy bull crap. This was a clear cut question, He could do this. He only wished it wasn’t so damn vague. “‘Them?’ That could mean a lot of things. I’m with a ‘Them’, I don’t know if it’s your ‘Them’. Without knowing more about this ‘Them’ that you’re referring to, I can’t help you.” Zrin pulled his gloved claws out of his pockets and let them rest on his hips.
She was very tense, He could feel it. She seemed quite uncomfortable with this situation.
“Either way, I’m not here to hurt you or cause you any harm. I’d just like to learn more about you.” He said in an effort to calm the mysterious lady who was quite too close to the road for his liking. “Why don’t you step away from the road?” He asked as he took a step back himself.
She had been so still he had almost forgotten about her, He was so entrenched in his thoughts. He snapped out of it when she pivoted to face him. The way she did it, Practiced, Regimented, Indoctrinated. That one small maneuver and how she executed it perfectly spoke more than she did.
She stared at his chest, Since it was at her eye level. She then snapped her head up, Meeting his blackened eyes. He stared back with piercing blue irises. He noticed her twitch, She probably hasn’t seen an avian. Most people haven’t seen an avian.
"You're a bird."
It wasn’t a question unlike so many others reactions, It was a statement. Zrin wasn’t quite sure what to think about that. It seemed like she came to terms with that fairly quickly. However, She has probably seen other, Possibly stranger things. They were certainly out there.
“Eh.” Zrin shrugged. He didn’t really know how else to respond. She took a step back, Almost back into the street again. She looked down to her feet, Boots, She was wearing boots. Why was she wearing boots? We’re in the middle of the city, She wasn’t hiking. Where had she been?
More people began to fill the streets as the day moved on. A man sipping on his coffee was on a collision course with Zrin. He sidestepped the man without a second glance. He continued sipping his coffee and walked on in blissful ignorance. She brought attention back to herself when she said, "People do?"
“People do?” Zrin thought. What did that mean, He didn’t understand it. She had said her last statement seemingly normally. Was she actually making sense but he just didn’t understand, Or was she just not making sense? She exhaled once more, "Are you with them? Are you one of them?" She said with a monotony only few could achieve.
This time, Zrin didn’t have to ponder her words like some philosophy bull crap. This was a clear cut question, He could do this. He only wished it wasn’t so damn vague. “‘Them?’ That could mean a lot of things. I’m with a ‘Them’, I don’t know if it’s your ‘Them’. Without knowing more about this ‘Them’ that you’re referring to, I can’t help you.” Zrin pulled his gloved claws out of his pockets and let them rest on his hips.
She was very tense, He could feel it. She seemed quite uncomfortable with this situation.
“Either way, I’m not here to hurt you or cause you any harm. I’d just like to learn more about you.” He said in an effort to calm the mysterious lady who was quite too close to the road for his liking. “Why don’t you step away from the road?” He asked as he took a step back himself.
It was almost as if the pair of them were at a standoff. Verbally stepping around each other. Hekater could almost see the indifference, the way he shrugged and worked through the statements. For a mere moment the eyes met, but she did not hold her gaze there for long. Her own darted away and to the ground, her own head looking downwards and avoiding contact. She watched the people continue on around them, the man with his coffee clearly indifferent to the two of them. The Birdman had moved, yet there was still no reaction of the human as he continued.
It was strange. How could a human not react to what was before them? Her mind worked through the possibilities. Could they even be seen? The driver had certainly seen her, but it did not explain this man. Perhaps he was invisible, some strange fae magic having been cast - yet why could she see through such? A Glamour perhaps? Something normal humans could not see through?
She continued to puzzle through it, becoming aware of the movement of hands. What was he?
Not knowing grated against her. By knowing she could plan accordingly. Everything had a process in which to attend to. It was just picking the right one. There was a quick look back to the road, aware of it as he pointed it out. It was with the presentation of instruction that her body simply lurched back into obeying and took the step closer.
"Them," she repeated, but paused. Unsure on how to continue. If he did not know did explaining even matter? Or perhaps this was a trap, designed to lure out more information, "Doesn't matter." Her clasped hands tightened, and relaxed as she listened, the occasional flicker of confusion. There was a small tilt of the head, her gaze looking to her sides, "There is nothing to learn here. Nothing interesting. Nothing at all." The offering of help caused a crease of confusion in her expression, "Help? I don't need he-"
It was the sound of some alarm that made her fall silent. Loud, blaring, she imagined it was from the street over. The siren sound grew, her head turning in all directions to locate the source. The rest of her tensing up, ready to spring into action. Her gaze turned skywards between the buildings, noting for the first time on how tall they were and staring intently at the grey clouds. Even as the blaring faded as quickly as it came, screeching off through the city she continued to stare upwards. Something inside worried, nagging and feeling insecure.
"Still at war?" she spoke without thinking. Her eyes continued to scan the sky, searching for a confirmation of sorts, "Should we... get somewhere safe?" She looked to the people then, noting no change in pace. There was no sense of urgency, no quickening steps or signs of shock. Her brow creased before easing into neutrality. Where was she that made sirens seem normal? She heard a clunk of movement from across the street as a collection of shutters were opened and various individuals began to sort out bundles of newspapers.
Hekater looked to the feet of the Birdman then, her head shaking as she tried to process what was going on, "Where am I?"
It was strange. How could a human not react to what was before them? Her mind worked through the possibilities. Could they even be seen? The driver had certainly seen her, but it did not explain this man. Perhaps he was invisible, some strange fae magic having been cast - yet why could she see through such? A Glamour perhaps? Something normal humans could not see through?
She continued to puzzle through it, becoming aware of the movement of hands. What was he?
Not knowing grated against her. By knowing she could plan accordingly. Everything had a process in which to attend to. It was just picking the right one. There was a quick look back to the road, aware of it as he pointed it out. It was with the presentation of instruction that her body simply lurched back into obeying and took the step closer.
"Them," she repeated, but paused. Unsure on how to continue. If he did not know did explaining even matter? Or perhaps this was a trap, designed to lure out more information, "Doesn't matter." Her clasped hands tightened, and relaxed as she listened, the occasional flicker of confusion. There was a small tilt of the head, her gaze looking to her sides, "There is nothing to learn here. Nothing interesting. Nothing at all." The offering of help caused a crease of confusion in her expression, "Help? I don't need he-"
It was the sound of some alarm that made her fall silent. Loud, blaring, she imagined it was from the street over. The siren sound grew, her head turning in all directions to locate the source. The rest of her tensing up, ready to spring into action. Her gaze turned skywards between the buildings, noting for the first time on how tall they were and staring intently at the grey clouds. Even as the blaring faded as quickly as it came, screeching off through the city she continued to stare upwards. Something inside worried, nagging and feeling insecure.
"Still at war?" she spoke without thinking. Her eyes continued to scan the sky, searching for a confirmation of sorts, "Should we... get somewhere safe?" She looked to the people then, noting no change in pace. There was no sense of urgency, no quickening steps or signs of shock. Her brow creased before easing into neutrality. Where was she that made sirens seem normal? She heard a clunk of movement from across the street as a collection of shutters were opened and various individuals began to sort out bundles of newspapers.
Hekater looked to the feet of the Birdman then, her head shaking as she tried to process what was going on, "Where am I?"
“Why don’t you step away from the road?” Once he said this she immediately obeyed. She took a step closer away from the road, Her eyes still glued to her feet. His eyes followed her to try to see what she was seeing. She was still uncomfortable, That or she was incredibly submissive.
“Them,” She said. Her voice hung between the words, She had wanted to continue but she stopped herself. Zrin tried to bend down to look her in the eyes, To try to see what she was feeling. “Doesn’t matter.” She finished. Zrin shot back up and rolled his eyes. Why was she being difficult? He couldn’t understand why she was so strange. She was still very tense.
She tilted her head slightly. She looked to her side, Was she looking at something?“There is nothing to learn here. Nothing interesting. Nothing at all.” She muttered. He followed her gaze again, He didn’t see anything special. He looked back to her, His eyes were drawn to her blue eyes. They didn’t seem normal, Definitely not human. He then noticed scarring below the eyes. Like something dug its way into her head.
“Help? I don’t need he-” She hung on the last word again. Was this a habit she had? Not finishing her damn sentences? She was looking all over the place, Did she lose her friend? He was compelled to aid her in her search. He quickly lost patience and looked back to her. She was staring into the sky. She looked like she was about to run halfway to France. He looked up with her into the clouded sky. Whatever she was seeing, He wasn’t having it. This whole thing was wearing on his sanity already. Usually he lasted longer than this before he went insane.
He looked back to the girl, She looked scared. Was she privy to something Zrin wasn’t? Could she sense some impending doom that he could not? “Still at war?” She said under her breath. War now? There had been plenty of wars, Which one was she referring to? Why did she think there was still a war going on?
“Should we… get somewhere safe?” She asked. Looked back from the sky and surveyed her surroundings. It clicked, War and London? She was talking about World War II. She must have been transported here somehow. That doesn’t explain her inhuman traits though. She had just been in the middle of World War II and now she’s here. It must be a massive shock for the poor girl.
She looked like she was going to explode, She obviously hadn’t expected this. She couldn’t be a time traveler then, They’d know to expect such things. “Where am I?” She asked. Zrin knelt down and looked her in the eyes. His skirt draping around him. He wanted to be calming to her, It was tough being whisked away from family.
“Look.” He said to grab her attention. “I think you’re coming from World War II, Am I wrong?” He continued. He readjusted his position and rested his arms on his bent legs. “The war ended sixty years ago.” He said. “The Allies won, Don’t worry.” He contemplated telling her about what happened eleven years ago and that whole shitstorm. She was already shook up, She didn’t need that as well. “A lot has happened since you were gone, Things are going to be really strange for you.” He said as he stood back up. “I’m Zrin, What’s your name? I’m willing to help you, But I’d need your cooperation.” He said. He put his arms behind his back. He wasn’t nearly as orderly as she was, He was out of practice.
“Them,” She said. Her voice hung between the words, She had wanted to continue but she stopped herself. Zrin tried to bend down to look her in the eyes, To try to see what she was feeling. “Doesn’t matter.” She finished. Zrin shot back up and rolled his eyes. Why was she being difficult? He couldn’t understand why she was so strange. She was still very tense.
She tilted her head slightly. She looked to her side, Was she looking at something?“There is nothing to learn here. Nothing interesting. Nothing at all.” She muttered. He followed her gaze again, He didn’t see anything special. He looked back to her, His eyes were drawn to her blue eyes. They didn’t seem normal, Definitely not human. He then noticed scarring below the eyes. Like something dug its way into her head.
“Help? I don’t need he-” She hung on the last word again. Was this a habit she had? Not finishing her damn sentences? She was looking all over the place, Did she lose her friend? He was compelled to aid her in her search. He quickly lost patience and looked back to her. She was staring into the sky. She looked like she was about to run halfway to France. He looked up with her into the clouded sky. Whatever she was seeing, He wasn’t having it. This whole thing was wearing on his sanity already. Usually he lasted longer than this before he went insane.
He looked back to the girl, She looked scared. Was she privy to something Zrin wasn’t? Could she sense some impending doom that he could not? “Still at war?” She said under her breath. War now? There had been plenty of wars, Which one was she referring to? Why did she think there was still a war going on?
“Should we… get somewhere safe?” She asked. Looked back from the sky and surveyed her surroundings. It clicked, War and London? She was talking about World War II. She must have been transported here somehow. That doesn’t explain her inhuman traits though. She had just been in the middle of World War II and now she’s here. It must be a massive shock for the poor girl.
She looked like she was going to explode, She obviously hadn’t expected this. She couldn’t be a time traveler then, They’d know to expect such things. “Where am I?” She asked. Zrin knelt down and looked her in the eyes. His skirt draping around him. He wanted to be calming to her, It was tough being whisked away from family.
“Look.” He said to grab her attention. “I think you’re coming from World War II, Am I wrong?” He continued. He readjusted his position and rested his arms on his bent legs. “The war ended sixty years ago.” He said. “The Allies won, Don’t worry.” He contemplated telling her about what happened eleven years ago and that whole shitstorm. She was already shook up, She didn’t need that as well. “A lot has happened since you were gone, Things are going to be really strange for you.” He said as he stood back up. “I’m Zrin, What’s your name? I’m willing to help you, But I’d need your cooperation.” He said. He put his arms behind his back. He wasn’t nearly as orderly as she was, He was out of practice.
Hekater forced herself into straightening, feet finding a firm position on the ground. While the rest of her seemingly stood to attention the eyes did not focus on him. It reminded her of being scolded, of someone trying to pry some information. The mind was still trying to piece things together, an element of logic in what was quickly turning into a maddening situation. The Birdman Zrin came down to her height, a mind more experienced in this world attempting to shed some insight. It made her head hurt.
"World war two?" she questioned back. She did not remember it being a second war, or at least she never heard her mother mention it. Allies sounded familiar though. The eyes circled around him before settling upon the tip of his beak. Composure, she had to maintain some element of it. A deep inhale as she attempted to instil her own level of calm, else she loose whatever small strip of control she maintained. The Changeling shook her head, "I don't know." The mention of how much time had passed however made her freeze. It was hard not to have her eyes widen, the clear look of surprise slithering into her features. Fear came next, her voice stammering as she spoke, "S-s-sixty years?"
She swayed on the spot then, mind frantically trying to work out how much time had truly passed. She barely remembered the year she was taken, her brow creasing. Hekater licked her lips, the cold feeling sinking back into her bones. Her lip gave a tremble then, another forced inhale as she attempted to find something to cling to. Anger came in next; not at him, it was aimed at herself and the Fae. She hissed, "Sixty years?"
What she had sought to come home to was no doubt already gone. Death would have taken her mother, her siblings no doubt having followed a similar fate. Her chest tightened then, but she worked on maintaining her stance. Position held firm, she could not allow herself to crumble - not here at least. Not in front of this stranger. She shook her head, not wanting to believe it. Her jaw tenses, as she forced herself to at least think on something more present. His name was what she chose. She nodded in understanding, "They called me Hekater, sir."
The practiced self presentation started again. Back straightening, almost as if presenting herself to a patron. Her gaze fixed onto the middle ground between them, the return of the monotone being evident. It was all she knew, "Why do want to help Sir? And very strange."
Strange was an understatement. Inside fear, worry and terror was gnawing at her.
The traffic was beginning to gradually grow steadier, the sounds of engines growing more constant. Above the sky began to grow darker. Rain would no doubt start encroaching on them soon enough. She noted the mimic of posture. Cooperation, she could do that. That was easy, "I understand." The faint pattering of rain drops, "Doesn't feel real. Weird."
"I mean," she turned her head then, a small nod gesture to the world, "It's different. All of it. So... big." She quickly returned her attention to the man, "It's been too long. I should have tried harder." There was a small flinch when a water droplet caught her on the cheek, her fingers raising to flick it away. She briefly noticed the darkness of her nails, knowing that her humanity had started to slip away from her. Her eyes returned to Zrin then.
He was hardly human himself. She cleared her throat, "Do they... not see you? But they see me?" Her lips pursed then in contemplation, "A glamour?"
"World war two?" she questioned back. She did not remember it being a second war, or at least she never heard her mother mention it. Allies sounded familiar though. The eyes circled around him before settling upon the tip of his beak. Composure, she had to maintain some element of it. A deep inhale as she attempted to instil her own level of calm, else she loose whatever small strip of control she maintained. The Changeling shook her head, "I don't know." The mention of how much time had passed however made her freeze. It was hard not to have her eyes widen, the clear look of surprise slithering into her features. Fear came next, her voice stammering as she spoke, "S-s-sixty years?"
She swayed on the spot then, mind frantically trying to work out how much time had truly passed. She barely remembered the year she was taken, her brow creasing. Hekater licked her lips, the cold feeling sinking back into her bones. Her lip gave a tremble then, another forced inhale as she attempted to find something to cling to. Anger came in next; not at him, it was aimed at herself and the Fae. She hissed, "Sixty years?"
What she had sought to come home to was no doubt already gone. Death would have taken her mother, her siblings no doubt having followed a similar fate. Her chest tightened then, but she worked on maintaining her stance. Position held firm, she could not allow herself to crumble - not here at least. Not in front of this stranger. She shook her head, not wanting to believe it. Her jaw tenses, as she forced herself to at least think on something more present. His name was what she chose. She nodded in understanding, "They called me Hekater, sir."
The practiced self presentation started again. Back straightening, almost as if presenting herself to a patron. Her gaze fixed onto the middle ground between them, the return of the monotone being evident. It was all she knew, "Why do want to help Sir? And very strange."
Strange was an understatement. Inside fear, worry and terror was gnawing at her.
The traffic was beginning to gradually grow steadier, the sounds of engines growing more constant. Above the sky began to grow darker. Rain would no doubt start encroaching on them soon enough. She noted the mimic of posture. Cooperation, she could do that. That was easy, "I understand." The faint pattering of rain drops, "Doesn't feel real. Weird."
"I mean," she turned her head then, a small nod gesture to the world, "It's different. All of it. So... big." She quickly returned her attention to the man, "It's been too long. I should have tried harder." There was a small flinch when a water droplet caught her on the cheek, her fingers raising to flick it away. She briefly noticed the darkness of her nails, knowing that her humanity had started to slip away from her. Her eyes returned to Zrin then.
He was hardly human himself. She cleared her throat, "Do they... not see you? But they see me?" Her lips pursed then in contemplation, "A glamour?"
She tried her best to prevent Zrin from seeing her anger. She shook her head in disbelief as she tensed her jaw. Them she nodded, “They called me Hekater, sir.” She said with the monotony returning. There’s that pronoun again, ‘They’. It was gnawing at him, Who were ‘They’? He noticed she also used past tense. That could just be a fluke or whatever. One thing really grabbed his attention about her comment, He had to say something.
“Don’t call me ‘Sir’. It’s, Weird, I’m not used to it.” He stumbled over his words. He brought his arms back out in front and scratched his elbows. She returned to her militarized stance. The way she stared perfectly straight and not at anything in particular, It unnerved him. He couldn’t see her turmoil any longer. He returned his arms to behind his back before he continued.
“Why do you want to help Sir? And very strange.” She asked, Again, with the monotone voice. That was probably the worst thing. The voice is usually the last to go, The dead eyes. He wondered what she had been through. He quickly formulated an answer. “Lady,” He started.
“My whole job is dealing with the strange and anomalous. I’m fairly certain in fall into either of those categories. If not, They grey areas in between.”
He could feel the pressure of rain, It wouldn’t be long. He glanced into the distance, The clouds were darker on the horizon. “It doesn’t feel real, Weird.” She said. He looked back to Hekater as she continued talking. “I mean, It’s different. All of it. So… big” She said as she took in this minuscule slice of the world. She looked at the buildings and the architecture. She turned her head back to look at him.
“It’s been too long. I should have tried harder.”
There it was, There’s the emotion again. “You did your best. Being indoctrinated is very hard to break. The fact that you broke it at all is astounding.” He tried to reassure her some some. “The universe stops for no one Hekater. The sun doesn’t ask to rise, It does. I understand it’s been a long time, But think of the bright side. A new world with so much opportunity. You can start a new life.” He said. He wasn’t too sure of his last statement. Being what she was, There were those who sought her. He shrugged the thought off, He’d deal with that later.
"Do they... not see you? But they see me?" She snapped him out of thought again, She looked curious. She was very observant, She was born seventy years ago after all. "A glamour?"
Zrin gasped, “You think I’m glamorous?” He said facetiously. He twirled on the spot, Showing the entirety of his bland dress. The skirt spun out and brushed up against a passerby. The man turned around, dumbfounded. He chuckled as he turned back to face her. “Seriously though? It’s some Multi U thing that’s pretty complicated.” He stopped as he realized what he said made no sense to her. “Uh, Think of it like this. I’m not completely here, I’m in between here and somewhere else.” He gestured with his hands for the statement. He rested them in front this time.
“Think of me half in and out of the door. I can control how far in and how far out I am in the room. If I go too far in, The door will close and I’ll be able to be seen by everyone. If I go too far out, The door will close and I’ll disappear.” He said. He could feel the rain hitting his jacket.
“We’re gonna get soaked out here. I’ve got a place we can go to if you want. You’re probably starving, I’ll fix you my signature dish.” He said proudly.
“Don’t call me ‘Sir’. It’s, Weird, I’m not used to it.” He stumbled over his words. He brought his arms back out in front and scratched his elbows. She returned to her militarized stance. The way she stared perfectly straight and not at anything in particular, It unnerved him. He couldn’t see her turmoil any longer. He returned his arms to behind his back before he continued.
“Why do you want to help Sir? And very strange.” She asked, Again, with the monotone voice. That was probably the worst thing. The voice is usually the last to go, The dead eyes. He wondered what she had been through. He quickly formulated an answer. “Lady,” He started.
“My whole job is dealing with the strange and anomalous. I’m fairly certain in fall into either of those categories. If not, They grey areas in between.”
He could feel the pressure of rain, It wouldn’t be long. He glanced into the distance, The clouds were darker on the horizon. “It doesn’t feel real, Weird.” She said. He looked back to Hekater as she continued talking. “I mean, It’s different. All of it. So… big” She said as she took in this minuscule slice of the world. She looked at the buildings and the architecture. She turned her head back to look at him.
“It’s been too long. I should have tried harder.”
There it was, There’s the emotion again. “You did your best. Being indoctrinated is very hard to break. The fact that you broke it at all is astounding.” He tried to reassure her some some. “The universe stops for no one Hekater. The sun doesn’t ask to rise, It does. I understand it’s been a long time, But think of the bright side. A new world with so much opportunity. You can start a new life.” He said. He wasn’t too sure of his last statement. Being what she was, There were those who sought her. He shrugged the thought off, He’d deal with that later.
"Do they... not see you? But they see me?" She snapped him out of thought again, She looked curious. She was very observant, She was born seventy years ago after all. "A glamour?"
Zrin gasped, “You think I’m glamorous?” He said facetiously. He twirled on the spot, Showing the entirety of his bland dress. The skirt spun out and brushed up against a passerby. The man turned around, dumbfounded. He chuckled as he turned back to face her. “Seriously though? It’s some Multi U thing that’s pretty complicated.” He stopped as he realized what he said made no sense to her. “Uh, Think of it like this. I’m not completely here, I’m in between here and somewhere else.” He gestured with his hands for the statement. He rested them in front this time.
“Think of me half in and out of the door. I can control how far in and how far out I am in the room. If I go too far in, The door will close and I’ll be able to be seen by everyone. If I go too far out, The door will close and I’ll disappear.” He said. He could feel the rain hitting his jacket.
“We’re gonna get soaked out here. I’ve got a place we can go to if you want. You’re probably starving, I’ll fix you my signature dish.” He said proudly.
He was speaking again. The words feeling almost foreign to her ears. Confusing, alien. The use of particular terms did not help her, instead of providing answers they only lead to more questions. There was only one however that she managed to find some grounding in, the use of the word Sir was not to be used. She gave a small nod in understanding to that, "Very well. What is the preference of title? Mister? Lord? Master? Patron? Doctor? And I am not a Lady. Least, not in the sense of honorifics."
The attempt of humour was clearly missed on her, the gasp causing a mere raise of an eyebrow. As she tried to process it she began to attempt an explanation, "No. A glamour. An illusion. Normally done to the self to appear... different." Her eyes followed the gesturing hands, expression remaining neutral. Here but not here, somewhere between? There was other things she would have linked it to but this sounded different, as if it was more technologically driven over something magical.
"Doors make it sound rather complex," She tried to sound her thoughts aloud, "How can one stand in a door and only let some in? Doors are either open or closed. All or nothing." Hekater chose to stop there, the mere thinking was starting to make her head hurt. Still, the passerby reacted only briefly to something being there, her own gaze sweeping over him. He seemed to notice her, but continued on regardless - indifferent and already forgotten what he had seen.
Still, she had found some glimmer of hope in what he had said to her. This was a new opportunity.
It was up until that point that Hekater had not thought about herself, or more correctly her own wellbeing. Hunger, shelter, a place out of the rain, they were basic priorities that were forcibly pushed aside by the simple notion of escaping. Still, she agreed to be compliant for the moment and thus nodded, "A place? Where? The other side of your door?"
She would follow wherever he lead, it was not as if she had any idea where she was at the moment - and wandering off on her own would merely result in potential trouble. Still, she worked through what she did know about the situation and him to formulate her own answers. The world had moved on without her, the past was nothing more than a shadow while the future - or what little she had seen - had become something much more technological. She wondered, briefly, if she would be able to cope with such a different world.
"Your job," she asked quietly, attempting to draw more information from him. She was not entirely convinced on what he was, "when you say dealing, what do you mean? A finder and binder of contracts? A hunter? Or something else?" Hekater dared not to say slayer, it painted a much to finite image. Still, it reminded her to anticipate and prepare for such a potential, "What is the cost for your services? All jobs have a price, you must have one if you so choose to employ yourself in this manner."
It was the logical next step. Perhaps he worked for his own patron, servitude and in return received a few benefits. Or maybe he worked for himself, to which then any payment he obtained were from the clients themselves. If it was the latter, then it would provide a small problem for Hekater - she had nothing.
The attempt of humour was clearly missed on her, the gasp causing a mere raise of an eyebrow. As she tried to process it she began to attempt an explanation, "No. A glamour. An illusion. Normally done to the self to appear... different." Her eyes followed the gesturing hands, expression remaining neutral. Here but not here, somewhere between? There was other things she would have linked it to but this sounded different, as if it was more technologically driven over something magical.
"Doors make it sound rather complex," She tried to sound her thoughts aloud, "How can one stand in a door and only let some in? Doors are either open or closed. All or nothing." Hekater chose to stop there, the mere thinking was starting to make her head hurt. Still, the passerby reacted only briefly to something being there, her own gaze sweeping over him. He seemed to notice her, but continued on regardless - indifferent and already forgotten what he had seen.
Still, she had found some glimmer of hope in what he had said to her. This was a new opportunity.
It was up until that point that Hekater had not thought about herself, or more correctly her own wellbeing. Hunger, shelter, a place out of the rain, they were basic priorities that were forcibly pushed aside by the simple notion of escaping. Still, she agreed to be compliant for the moment and thus nodded, "A place? Where? The other side of your door?"
She would follow wherever he lead, it was not as if she had any idea where she was at the moment - and wandering off on her own would merely result in potential trouble. Still, she worked through what she did know about the situation and him to formulate her own answers. The world had moved on without her, the past was nothing more than a shadow while the future - or what little she had seen - had become something much more technological. She wondered, briefly, if she would be able to cope with such a different world.
"Your job," she asked quietly, attempting to draw more information from him. She was not entirely convinced on what he was, "when you say dealing, what do you mean? A finder and binder of contracts? A hunter? Or something else?" Hekater dared not to say slayer, it painted a much to finite image. Still, it reminded her to anticipate and prepare for such a potential, "What is the cost for your services? All jobs have a price, you must have one if you so choose to employ yourself in this manner."
It was the logical next step. Perhaps he worked for his own patron, servitude and in return received a few benefits. Or maybe he worked for himself, to which then any payment he obtained were from the clients themselves. If it was the latter, then it would provide a small problem for Hekater - she had nothing.
"Very well. What is the preference of title? Mister? Lord? Master? Patron? Doctor?” She asked. “Master?” He mused. “No one’s called me ‘master’ in forever.” He smiled at the memory. He shook his head before he continued, “No need for titles, Just Zrin is fine.”
"Doors make it sound rather complex, How can one stand in a door and only let some in? Doors are either open or closed. All or nothing." She said in response to his explanation. “It’s rather complicated subject matter, It’s not necessary to understand it fully. Just know that I can be seen only by those who are trained or those who are sensitive to energies.”
"A place? Where? The other side of your door?" She asked. It took him a moment to understand her line of thought. “No, It’s actually just down the road.” He pointed down the busy corridor. “It’s like an apartment, Or I guess you’d call them ‘flats’.“
He was going to bring her to the flat before she whispered something. "Your job," She started. Zrin squared himself off with her, She had his attention. "when you say dealing, what do you mean? A finder and binder of contracts? A hunter? Or something else?" She asked. Zrin crossed his arms in thought. He tried to come up with a way of explaining himself without coming off wrong.
"What is the cost for your services? All jobs have a price, you must have one if you so choose to employ yourself in this manner." She continued as he thought. He heaved a heavy sigh and looked to his feet. He held his head in his palm. He took a deep breath before he looked back into her cold, blue eyes. His expression turned serious and cold.
“Think of me as an ‘independent contractor’.” He started. He looked around his surroundings before he continued. “I’m employed to keep an eye out for anomalous objects and entities and report them at my discretion.” He said. He was unsure of how Hekater would take this, It was the truth though. “In return, They support me and help me where they can.” He debated whether to continue or not. He thought that she knew enough about his job at this point.
His demeanor returned to a lighthearted tone.
“I’m sure that you’re starving. I’ve got some nice cod in the refrigerator.” He said in an effort to change to subject. It was at this point that his phone began to ring. He contemplated answering it in front of this already immensely confused person. He stuck his hand into his pocket and silenced the phone. “Don’t mind that yet.” He said with a chuckle.
Lightning struck nearby, The thunderous boom told Zrin that it was time to go. He waved his hand to Hekater, “C’mon, Let’s go.” He said. He turned away and started to walk back to the flat.
"Doors make it sound rather complex, How can one stand in a door and only let some in? Doors are either open or closed. All or nothing." She said in response to his explanation. “It’s rather complicated subject matter, It’s not necessary to understand it fully. Just know that I can be seen only by those who are trained or those who are sensitive to energies.”
"A place? Where? The other side of your door?" She asked. It took him a moment to understand her line of thought. “No, It’s actually just down the road.” He pointed down the busy corridor. “It’s like an apartment, Or I guess you’d call them ‘flats’.“
He was going to bring her to the flat before she whispered something. "Your job," She started. Zrin squared himself off with her, She had his attention. "when you say dealing, what do you mean? A finder and binder of contracts? A hunter? Or something else?" She asked. Zrin crossed his arms in thought. He tried to come up with a way of explaining himself without coming off wrong.
"What is the cost for your services? All jobs have a price, you must have one if you so choose to employ yourself in this manner." She continued as he thought. He heaved a heavy sigh and looked to his feet. He held his head in his palm. He took a deep breath before he looked back into her cold, blue eyes. His expression turned serious and cold.
“Think of me as an ‘independent contractor’.” He started. He looked around his surroundings before he continued. “I’m employed to keep an eye out for anomalous objects and entities and report them at my discretion.” He said. He was unsure of how Hekater would take this, It was the truth though. “In return, They support me and help me where they can.” He debated whether to continue or not. He thought that she knew enough about his job at this point.
His demeanor returned to a lighthearted tone.
“I’m sure that you’re starving. I’ve got some nice cod in the refrigerator.” He said in an effort to change to subject. It was at this point that his phone began to ring. He contemplated answering it in front of this already immensely confused person. He stuck his hand into his pocket and silenced the phone. “Don’t mind that yet.” He said with a chuckle.
Lightning struck nearby, The thunderous boom told Zrin that it was time to go. He waved his hand to Hekater, “C’mon, Let’s go.” He said. He turned away and started to walk back to the flat.
Hekater showed understanding by nodding. There was no need for words beyond that and to merely talk further would only be an unnecessary delaying for time. In regards to the subject of doors and only partial seeing unless otherwise trained she nodded again. It was a lesson and something she was unaware was possible, or at least on such a seemingly technological level. The only thing she could immediately link such an idea to was some of the odd fae magics, but the names of such escaped her at present.
"Flats, apartments, they are one and the same. A housing unit," her voice was direct and to the point then. The eyes followed the point down the street, squinting almost to see where the final destination was. It seemed her questioning had momentarily put him off, or at least seemed to pause on answering. But when the eyes came sweeping around to meet hers again instinct caused her to dart hers away. They quickly gave a circle around his head before planting once more upon his chest.
"An individual for hirer who works for the highest bidder? Mercenary of a sorts. With benefits for loyalty. No, that's not right," she was clearly thinking about it, even as she followed. She chose not to comment on the use of they, and instead chose that she would see his true colours in good enough time. It was the interruption of the alien noise that caught her off guard. With the expression turning to one of confusion she looked Zrin up and down. Even as whatever it was fell silent there was the ever wary look on her face. The sounds of the weather did little on disturbing her, and even with the chuckling reassurance she did not relent on her staring.
"What was that noise?" she asked, eyes staring at his pocket, "Is it some... magic device?" Her attention was diverted away as she sidestepped around the other pedestrians, feet remaining light despite the boots. There was the briefest of glances upwards as the rain continued, falling harder and replacing the mist as it dispersed in the morning. The sounds of the city simply grew louder, her steps moving to keep up with his own as the world she once knew became simply nothing.
The Changeling licked her lips, remembering the mention of food. Taking the bait she chose to focus on that.
"Cod. Fish. How do you cook that? And refrigerator? Is that a storage piece of some kind?" She was obviously trying to remember by the manner in which she quietly repeated the word as a mutter. Somewhere on the back of her mind it scratched but she could not summon from where exactly.
"Flats, apartments, they are one and the same. A housing unit," her voice was direct and to the point then. The eyes followed the point down the street, squinting almost to see where the final destination was. It seemed her questioning had momentarily put him off, or at least seemed to pause on answering. But when the eyes came sweeping around to meet hers again instinct caused her to dart hers away. They quickly gave a circle around his head before planting once more upon his chest.
"An individual for hirer who works for the highest bidder? Mercenary of a sorts. With benefits for loyalty. No, that's not right," she was clearly thinking about it, even as she followed. She chose not to comment on the use of they, and instead chose that she would see his true colours in good enough time. It was the interruption of the alien noise that caught her off guard. With the expression turning to one of confusion she looked Zrin up and down. Even as whatever it was fell silent there was the ever wary look on her face. The sounds of the weather did little on disturbing her, and even with the chuckling reassurance she did not relent on her staring.
"What was that noise?" she asked, eyes staring at his pocket, "Is it some... magic device?" Her attention was diverted away as she sidestepped around the other pedestrians, feet remaining light despite the boots. There was the briefest of glances upwards as the rain continued, falling harder and replacing the mist as it dispersed in the morning. The sounds of the city simply grew louder, her steps moving to keep up with his own as the world she once knew became simply nothing.
The Changeling licked her lips, remembering the mention of food. Taking the bait she chose to focus on that.
"Cod. Fish. How do you cook that? And refrigerator? Is that a storage piece of some kind?" She was obviously trying to remember by the manner in which she quietly repeated the word as a mutter. Somewhere on the back of her mind it scratched but she could not summon from where exactly.
"Flats, apartments, they are one and the same. A housing unit," she stated. Zrin turned to her, “I suppose. I wouldn't call it a ‘housing unit’ though. It sounds dystopian.” He replied.
An individual for hire who works for the highest bidder? Mercenary of a sorts. With benefits for loyalty. No, that's not right," She thought aloud.
“No, Not really.” He replied. “I don’t work for the highest bidder. I work for them because I respect what they do. Even if I’m on the wrong end of the stick at times. I’m also not a mercenary, That implies I kill people. Quite the opposite really, I do my job to save people. If I do it right, No one would be any the wiser.” He said. “There are benefits for loyalty as with anything. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Quid Pro Quo.”
"What was that noise?" She asked in response to his cell phone. "Is it some... magic device?"
Zrin shot an awkward kind of half smile as he rubbed the back of his head. “You know what they say.” He chuckled. “One person’s science is another person’s magic. I’ll talk to you about it later if you want, It’s rather complicated stuff.”
Zrin kept sidestepping people, Trying not to make contact. Occasionally he would and it would freak the other person out. It was always amusing to see the look on people’s faces when a ghost touched them.
He could see her practically salivating beside him. "Cod. Fish. How do you cook that? And refrigerator? Is that a storage piece of some kind?" She asked. “A refrigerator? Yeah, It’s a kind of storage unit. Think about the name, reFRIGErator. It’s based off the term ‘frigid’, I think. It’s a storage device that keeps foodstuffs cold, So they don’t go bad.”
“You could cook cod any number of ways. I just throw it in the oven and let it cook. Doesn’t need to be complicated.” He replied.
He stopped walking in front of a tall brick building. He turned and walked up the short flight of stairs into the housing complex. He opened the door and let Hekater into the lobby. It wasn’t upscale but it wasn’t trashy either. The lobby had nice dark wood walls with a lighter hardwood floor. There was a desk, Made from the same dark wood as the walls. There was a man sitting behind the desk, He was too busy reading his magazine to notice the door magically opening.
He walked past the desk and down a hallway. There were doors on either side. He walked to the end and opened a door, Inside were flights of stairs. He began ascending, He climbed all the way to the tenth floor. He opened the door to the hallway. It was fairly run of the mill, Wooden walls and wooden doors. At the end of the hallway was a window that overlooked the street below. He walked down the hallway, Passing every door on the way. He stopped at the final door, Next to the window. He pulled out a key and unlocked the door.
He pushed the door open. The door opened immediately to the living room. The chalky white wallpaper contrasted the dark wood on the outside. The living room opened to the left. A couch sat against a stomach high partition. The couch faced a television set, A wood coffee table sat between them.
Immediately to the right was an open door that led to the single bedroom. Further down the right wall was the entrance to the kitchen. The counter curved around to form a bar.
Zrin walked in, “Welcome to my humble abode. Take a seat on the couch and I’ll get cooking. If you have any questions as I’m sure you do, Ask away.” He said as he walked into the kitchen.
The right side of the kitchen had the fridge, Stove, and microwave. The left side was for storage. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out the cod. He unwrapped it from its paper wrapping. He put it on the counter and pulled out a tray. He reached above him and opened a cabinet. He pulled out tin foil and ripped a piece off. He slid the roll of tin foil back into its spot and closed the cabinet. A picked the fish up and set it down on the foil. He opened the stove and slid the tray in the oven. He set the temperature and closed it.
He thought for a moment. She used the term “Master” and “Duke”. No one in Britain used those terms in the forties. He was fairly sure they used terms like ‘Archduke’ in the early nineteen-hundreds. It was food for thought.
He turned to the opposite side of the kitchen and pulled out two plates. He swung around and put the plates beside the stove top. He went to open the pantry and pulled out corn chips. He brought the bag over to the plates. He opened it and spread the chips evenly across the plates. He closed the bag back up and threw it back into the pantry. He opened the fridge back up and pulled out a heavy block of cheese. He slammed the block down onto the counter.
He turned back around and pulled various spices out of the cabinets above. He placed them beside the stove and stepped away. He leaned on the partition behind the couch. “You don’t remember much about where you came from?” He asked.
An individual for hire who works for the highest bidder? Mercenary of a sorts. With benefits for loyalty. No, that's not right," She thought aloud.
“No, Not really.” He replied. “I don’t work for the highest bidder. I work for them because I respect what they do. Even if I’m on the wrong end of the stick at times. I’m also not a mercenary, That implies I kill people. Quite the opposite really, I do my job to save people. If I do it right, No one would be any the wiser.” He said. “There are benefits for loyalty as with anything. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Quid Pro Quo.”
"What was that noise?" She asked in response to his cell phone. "Is it some... magic device?"
Zrin shot an awkward kind of half smile as he rubbed the back of his head. “You know what they say.” He chuckled. “One person’s science is another person’s magic. I’ll talk to you about it later if you want, It’s rather complicated stuff.”
Zrin kept sidestepping people, Trying not to make contact. Occasionally he would and it would freak the other person out. It was always amusing to see the look on people’s faces when a ghost touched them.
He could see her practically salivating beside him. "Cod. Fish. How do you cook that? And refrigerator? Is that a storage piece of some kind?" She asked. “A refrigerator? Yeah, It’s a kind of storage unit. Think about the name, reFRIGErator. It’s based off the term ‘frigid’, I think. It’s a storage device that keeps foodstuffs cold, So they don’t go bad.”
“You could cook cod any number of ways. I just throw it in the oven and let it cook. Doesn’t need to be complicated.” He replied.
He stopped walking in front of a tall brick building. He turned and walked up the short flight of stairs into the housing complex. He opened the door and let Hekater into the lobby. It wasn’t upscale but it wasn’t trashy either. The lobby had nice dark wood walls with a lighter hardwood floor. There was a desk, Made from the same dark wood as the walls. There was a man sitting behind the desk, He was too busy reading his magazine to notice the door magically opening.
He walked past the desk and down a hallway. There were doors on either side. He walked to the end and opened a door, Inside were flights of stairs. He began ascending, He climbed all the way to the tenth floor. He opened the door to the hallway. It was fairly run of the mill, Wooden walls and wooden doors. At the end of the hallway was a window that overlooked the street below. He walked down the hallway, Passing every door on the way. He stopped at the final door, Next to the window. He pulled out a key and unlocked the door.
He pushed the door open. The door opened immediately to the living room. The chalky white wallpaper contrasted the dark wood on the outside. The living room opened to the left. A couch sat against a stomach high partition. The couch faced a television set, A wood coffee table sat between them.
Immediately to the right was an open door that led to the single bedroom. Further down the right wall was the entrance to the kitchen. The counter curved around to form a bar.
Zrin walked in, “Welcome to my humble abode. Take a seat on the couch and I’ll get cooking. If you have any questions as I’m sure you do, Ask away.” He said as he walked into the kitchen.
The right side of the kitchen had the fridge, Stove, and microwave. The left side was for storage. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out the cod. He unwrapped it from its paper wrapping. He put it on the counter and pulled out a tray. He reached above him and opened a cabinet. He pulled out tin foil and ripped a piece off. He slid the roll of tin foil back into its spot and closed the cabinet. A picked the fish up and set it down on the foil. He opened the stove and slid the tray in the oven. He set the temperature and closed it.
He thought for a moment. She used the term “Master” and “Duke”. No one in Britain used those terms in the forties. He was fairly sure they used terms like ‘Archduke’ in the early nineteen-hundreds. It was food for thought.
He turned to the opposite side of the kitchen and pulled out two plates. He swung around and put the plates beside the stove top. He went to open the pantry and pulled out corn chips. He brought the bag over to the plates. He opened it and spread the chips evenly across the plates. He closed the bag back up and threw it back into the pantry. He opened the fridge back up and pulled out a heavy block of cheese. He slammed the block down onto the counter.
He turned back around and pulled various spices out of the cabinets above. He placed them beside the stove and stepped away. He leaned on the partition behind the couch. “You don’t remember much about where you came from?” He asked.
Silence once more was Hekater's reaction followed by a slow nod. He had chosen his own definition for the term of mercenary, but at the end of the day there was always the one single denomination; a reward, be it in the form of finance, objects or benefits. Still, it did not matter too much beyond being something to be wary of. His loyalty belonged to someone, though for how long she did not know. The device she was curious about, and judging by the way others seemed to go about with their eyes glued to the tiny screen she figured they were a common occurrence. As such, they were something worth learning about. She focused on the smile then. The question was rhetorical, “and magic is merely a thing we've yet to understand?” Her brow furrowed then, “Refrigerator makes sense now. I imagine they are like the old ice stores houses and rooms, but smaller and work on...” her hand gestured to the city in general then. She knew what it was, vaguely, but the name escaped her at present, “whatever powers here.”
In good time they had arrived. A towering complex. The orbs flickered around its front, narrowing as she painted the image in her mind. To remember it as a landmark and a point of direction. Brickwork, old seeming, aged in a style, the immediate interior was no different. Part of her reminded her of a time from back then, but age had not been kind to it. She followed regardless, up the stairs without complaint, eyes ever taking in the surroundings. This could be either a haven or a trap, she was prepared for the latter more. Trust had to be earned.
Floor ten. End door she took that snippet to memory. She paused briefly to look down the dizzying height to the street below before once more coming to a pause. On the entrance to another's domain, a place where - if she was to follow her up bringing – she would have to follow the rules of hospitality. It was more with caution that she entered, hands still behind her but her fist instinctively balling up. She followed after him for a moment, eyes flickering to the key features. Furniture she recognised, the same basis as back then but styled differently. The television gave her pause, her head cocking to one side as she considered it. A closer step, she gave a visual inspection as she peered around it, the cables and buttons until at last speaking, “They are different from what I remember. Bigger.”
She moved around to the kitchen then, her inspection and attempts to understand continuing. She saw the refrigerator, her lips pursing into a line. The stove was self explanatory. But for the most part she settled on him and watched him work until content with what she had seen. So she obeyed his request and sat upon the couch.
“When you say, where I came from, when do you exactly mean?” she looked back then, “Do you mean in recent time, or from...” she searched for the correct word then, “Decades ago?” Hekater returned her attention forward then, “it was a long time ago and I was a child in a world of adults. It is no surprise that most of it is lost.”
In good time they had arrived. A towering complex. The orbs flickered around its front, narrowing as she painted the image in her mind. To remember it as a landmark and a point of direction. Brickwork, old seeming, aged in a style, the immediate interior was no different. Part of her reminded her of a time from back then, but age had not been kind to it. She followed regardless, up the stairs without complaint, eyes ever taking in the surroundings. This could be either a haven or a trap, she was prepared for the latter more. Trust had to be earned.
Floor ten. End door she took that snippet to memory. She paused briefly to look down the dizzying height to the street below before once more coming to a pause. On the entrance to another's domain, a place where - if she was to follow her up bringing – she would have to follow the rules of hospitality. It was more with caution that she entered, hands still behind her but her fist instinctively balling up. She followed after him for a moment, eyes flickering to the key features. Furniture she recognised, the same basis as back then but styled differently. The television gave her pause, her head cocking to one side as she considered it. A closer step, she gave a visual inspection as she peered around it, the cables and buttons until at last speaking, “They are different from what I remember. Bigger.”
She moved around to the kitchen then, her inspection and attempts to understand continuing. She saw the refrigerator, her lips pursing into a line. The stove was self explanatory. But for the most part she settled on him and watched him work until content with what she had seen. So she obeyed his request and sat upon the couch.
“When you say, where I came from, when do you exactly mean?” she looked back then, “Do you mean in recent time, or from...” she searched for the correct word then, “Decades ago?” Hekater returned her attention forward then, “it was a long time ago and I was a child in a world of adults. It is no surprise that most of it is lost.”
“They are different from what I remember. Bigger.” She said.
“Yep.” He said. “Thinner too. They also work differently. Gone are the ol’ vacuum tubes. That one in particular uses plasma. It sounds really awesome, Because it is.” He chuckled. He thought about it for a moment. “You're familiar with televisions then?” He asked. If she was, that kind of shot down his World War I theory.
“When you say, where I came from, when do you exactly mean?” She inquired. She turned around to face him. “Do you mean in recent time, or from...” She paused for a moment, leaving Zrin hanging in her last word.
“Decades ago?” She continued.
Zrin’s mind was running wild with theories and ideas. She was such an enigma, that fascinated him.
“it was a long time ago and I was a child in a world of adults. It is no surprise that most of it is lost.” She finished.
Those last two statements really got the gears turning, Something was bugging him. Something was wrong, it didn't make sense. He walked around the partition into the living room. He took a seat on the coffee table and faced Hekater.
“Something's bugging me about what you've been saying. You're obviously not from this time. That leads me to believe you've traveled through time, That only makes sense.” Zrin paused and gathered his thoughts before he continued.
“You don't age when you travel through time. You say you were a child when you left that time period. If you were, how do you not look a day under twenty? Or how you developed your militarized mannerism? Children don't do that.” He accused.
“I have a theory. I think that you didn't travel through time conventionally. You were brought into some pocket dimension where time ticks slower.” He thought about it some more before he appended it. “I also think that there were, or are, beings inhabiting that dimension. I think that they are the ‘them’ you refer to. They indoctrinated you to be a soldier and you did their dirty work. You aren't as helpless as you might seem.”
Before anyone had the chance to continue, Zrin’s phone again ringing. He tried to ignore it, he maintained eye contact with Hekater. He couldn't take it any longer. He pulled the smart phone from his pocket. He stood up as he swiped at the screen and held it up to his ear.
“What?!” He yelled into the phone.
“That's no way to talk to your handler, 7714.” Said the voice on the other end.
Zrin bowed his head and rubbed his temple with his still gloved hands. “Don't call me that.” He sighed before he continued. “What is it Tristan?” He asked, agitated. He had begun to pace around the living room as the other side answered.
“I'm just checking up on you buddy!” Tristan said joyfully.
“You sound happy.” Zrin said. “Did you finally make that deal?”
“Absolutely! You still haven't answered my question though, How you doing?” The disembodied voice asked. Zrin looked at Hekater and contemplated reporting it.
“Nothing new.” He replied. “How're your better thirds?” He asked.
Tristan gave an exasperated sigh. “I don't know why I put up with you.”
“Because you love me, and I love you.” Zrin said facetiously as he meandered to the kitchen.
“Well, Trevor’s still stuck in the states and Tom is still in Antarctica, poor bastard. Why do I get to visit beautiful Europe?”
“Cause you're the ugly one of the triple threats?” Zrin replied.
“Well, if you haven't found anything and you're not dying and defecting, I'll talk to you later.” Tristan said.
“Talk to you later sweetheart.” Zrin joked as he hung up the phone and placed it back in his pocket.
He pulled the fish out of the oven. He put various seasonings and spices on and cut the fish into small pieces. He put the pieces on the corn chips and sliced some cheddar cheese. He placed the slice of cheese on top and completed the fish nachos. He brought both plates to the coffee table and walked back to the kitchen.
“Is lemonade suitable?” He asked as he pulled out a glass pitcher from the fridge. He grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and poured the lemonade. He replaced the pitcher in the fridge and brought the glasses to the table.
He gave one to Hekater and took a seat next to her. “So, Tell me what you think” he requested.
“Yep.” He said. “Thinner too. They also work differently. Gone are the ol’ vacuum tubes. That one in particular uses plasma. It sounds really awesome, Because it is.” He chuckled. He thought about it for a moment. “You're familiar with televisions then?” He asked. If she was, that kind of shot down his World War I theory.
“When you say, where I came from, when do you exactly mean?” She inquired. She turned around to face him. “Do you mean in recent time, or from...” She paused for a moment, leaving Zrin hanging in her last word.
“Decades ago?” She continued.
Zrin’s mind was running wild with theories and ideas. She was such an enigma, that fascinated him.
“it was a long time ago and I was a child in a world of adults. It is no surprise that most of it is lost.” She finished.
Those last two statements really got the gears turning, Something was bugging him. Something was wrong, it didn't make sense. He walked around the partition into the living room. He took a seat on the coffee table and faced Hekater.
“Something's bugging me about what you've been saying. You're obviously not from this time. That leads me to believe you've traveled through time, That only makes sense.” Zrin paused and gathered his thoughts before he continued.
“You don't age when you travel through time. You say you were a child when you left that time period. If you were, how do you not look a day under twenty? Or how you developed your militarized mannerism? Children don't do that.” He accused.
“I have a theory. I think that you didn't travel through time conventionally. You were brought into some pocket dimension where time ticks slower.” He thought about it some more before he appended it. “I also think that there were, or are, beings inhabiting that dimension. I think that they are the ‘them’ you refer to. They indoctrinated you to be a soldier and you did their dirty work. You aren't as helpless as you might seem.”
Before anyone had the chance to continue, Zrin’s phone again ringing. He tried to ignore it, he maintained eye contact with Hekater. He couldn't take it any longer. He pulled the smart phone from his pocket. He stood up as he swiped at the screen and held it up to his ear.
“What?!” He yelled into the phone.
“That's no way to talk to your handler, 7714.” Said the voice on the other end.
Zrin bowed his head and rubbed his temple with his still gloved hands. “Don't call me that.” He sighed before he continued. “What is it Tristan?” He asked, agitated. He had begun to pace around the living room as the other side answered.
“I'm just checking up on you buddy!” Tristan said joyfully.
“You sound happy.” Zrin said. “Did you finally make that deal?”
“Absolutely! You still haven't answered my question though, How you doing?” The disembodied voice asked. Zrin looked at Hekater and contemplated reporting it.
“Nothing new.” He replied. “How're your better thirds?” He asked.
Tristan gave an exasperated sigh. “I don't know why I put up with you.”
“Because you love me, and I love you.” Zrin said facetiously as he meandered to the kitchen.
“Well, Trevor’s still stuck in the states and Tom is still in Antarctica, poor bastard. Why do I get to visit beautiful Europe?”
“Cause you're the ugly one of the triple threats?” Zrin replied.
“Well, if you haven't found anything and you're not dying and defecting, I'll talk to you later.” Tristan said.
“Talk to you later sweetheart.” Zrin joked as he hung up the phone and placed it back in his pocket.
He pulled the fish out of the oven. He put various seasonings and spices on and cut the fish into small pieces. He put the pieces on the corn chips and sliced some cheddar cheese. He placed the slice of cheese on top and completed the fish nachos. He brought both plates to the coffee table and walked back to the kitchen.
“Is lemonade suitable?” He asked as he pulled out a glass pitcher from the fridge. He grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and poured the lemonade. He replaced the pitcher in the fridge and brought the glasses to the table.
He gave one to Hekater and took a seat next to her. “So, Tell me what you think” he requested.
“I remember... someone having one. And how everyone one day would be watching one,” Hekater gave a small frown then, “I didn't really understand it in honesty.” The blue eyes looked upon him then, “I don't really understand this tube thing you speak of. What's it for?”
While Zrin voiced his thoughts she listened. Her expression gave the occasional small crease, the flickers of confusion appearing here and there. It was simply an issue of understanding, terms used that she did not know, concepts that seemed to make her head hurt. It was perhaps after the lacking in any form of response that she simply pinched the bridge of her nose. He was asking her to think in his line of logic, and that was a difficult leap.
“Guard dog is more appropriate. Soldier suggests there is still some form of choice,” she spoke quietly then, “I don't understand the use of this dimens-"
The noise cut her off. Eyes averting as the birdman answered she returned once more to a state of listening. Whatever the device was it clearly allowed some form of distant conversation, she could tell that much from the faint mumble of another voice – though the exact words were beyond her. Still, the gaze cautiously followed as he returned to the kitchen and the permeating scent of fish. With his return and the somewhat bizarre meal before her presented, Hekater attempted to begin her thoughts anew. There was only a dumb nod to the offer of lemonade – though she was not completely sure what it was. He had given hospitality, so she had to accept was the way she viewed it. Still, she tried it and pulled an uncertain expression before promptly putting the glass down on the table. As etiquette demanded she waited for him to start before beginning herself.
“I don't know what to think,” she rubbed her brow then, “It is... a lot to understand. So I am not sure.” She was not sure on the food of home either, but accepted it as a change of times, “The world says many decades. I say I feel four decades. You say I seem twenty.” Her brow creased, “I can agree with the concept that time has behaved differently where I am. I know it even.”
She moved onto the other point then, her finger giving a curious prod to the cod, “Them. I call them patrons or masters. They call themselves Fae. Here would call them spirits or fairies, I suppose.” Taking another mouthful she forced herself to swallow, “Food here has become strange.”
“Indoctrinate is a harsh word. I don't know any better, it's all I know,” She took another trying sip of the lemonade, “It’s what kept me alive. And that is all that mattered there. Live. And, maybe one day escape the mists.”
She exhaled, "I am not sure if that is of any use to you."
While Zrin voiced his thoughts she listened. Her expression gave the occasional small crease, the flickers of confusion appearing here and there. It was simply an issue of understanding, terms used that she did not know, concepts that seemed to make her head hurt. It was perhaps after the lacking in any form of response that she simply pinched the bridge of her nose. He was asking her to think in his line of logic, and that was a difficult leap.
“Guard dog is more appropriate. Soldier suggests there is still some form of choice,” she spoke quietly then, “I don't understand the use of this dimens-"
The noise cut her off. Eyes averting as the birdman answered she returned once more to a state of listening. Whatever the device was it clearly allowed some form of distant conversation, she could tell that much from the faint mumble of another voice – though the exact words were beyond her. Still, the gaze cautiously followed as he returned to the kitchen and the permeating scent of fish. With his return and the somewhat bizarre meal before her presented, Hekater attempted to begin her thoughts anew. There was only a dumb nod to the offer of lemonade – though she was not completely sure what it was. He had given hospitality, so she had to accept was the way she viewed it. Still, she tried it and pulled an uncertain expression before promptly putting the glass down on the table. As etiquette demanded she waited for him to start before beginning herself.
“I don't know what to think,” she rubbed her brow then, “It is... a lot to understand. So I am not sure.” She was not sure on the food of home either, but accepted it as a change of times, “The world says many decades. I say I feel four decades. You say I seem twenty.” Her brow creased, “I can agree with the concept that time has behaved differently where I am. I know it even.”
She moved onto the other point then, her finger giving a curious prod to the cod, “Them. I call them patrons or masters. They call themselves Fae. Here would call them spirits or fairies, I suppose.” Taking another mouthful she forced herself to swallow, “Food here has become strange.”
“Indoctrinate is a harsh word. I don't know any better, it's all I know,” She took another trying sip of the lemonade, “It’s what kept me alive. And that is all that mattered there. Live. And, maybe one day escape the mists.”
She exhaled, "I am not sure if that is of any use to you."
“I don't really understand this tube thing you speak of. What's it for?” She asked.
“Oh, The older televisions used cathode ray tubes to project the image. There’s a whole bunch of science behind it. I never bothered to learn it though. They aren’t around as much as more modern methods.” He replied.
“Them. I call them patrons or masters. They call themselves Fae. Here would call them spirits or fairies, I suppose.” She explained.
He took his right glove off and picked a piece of food up, Left hand still goved. He leaned back into the couch and cocked his head to look at her. “Fairies, huh? I never liked the ‘Fae’, They always seemed like assholes to me. I guess you could concur, yeah?” He said as he took a bite of the food. “You don’t look like you’re enjoying it too well. If you’d like something else, lemme know. I kind of forced this on you, Kinda shouldn’t have.” He sighed as he hung his head dramatically. “Reintegrating you into society is going to be a bitch and a half.” He mumbled. There was always the easier solution of just reporting her. She wouldn’t have to worry about all this. Zrin didn’t think it’d be the right thing to do.
“I guess since you’ve told me about your ‘Them’, I’ll tell you a bit about mine.” He picked up another bit a fish and finished eating it. He sat back further into the couch and continued. “I work for an organization, Or foundation if you will. They look for the strange things, The things that don’t make sense. Some of these things are dangerous, Even deadly, To the average person. This Foundation finds these anomalous objects, Or even anomalous people like yourself. They contain them and keep them from harming the day to day. They research them to better defend humans from dangers no one else understands.” He picked up another bit of cheddar covered cod. He threw it in his mouth and swallowed it whole. “Best part is that it doesn’t exist. No one knows about it.”
He pulled a straw out of his jacket and stuck it in his lemonade. He brought it up and took a sip.
“That does tell me that they weren’t good at indoctrination.” He laughed. “I don’t even know where to start. There’s so much that has happened in such a short amount of time.” He sat the cup down and swallowed.
He shifted around to face Hekater more directly. “I’m considered an anomalous person, Just like you. So we’re kind of in the same-ish boat here. It’s more like we’re in the same type of boat, But not exactly the same boat. I also wouldn’t worry about all this trans-dimensional crap. It’ll only blow your brain up.” He chuckled. He finished his last piece of his cod and took the plate and stood up.
“Can I get’cha anything else? If you aren’t hungry, That’s cool.” He walked into the kitchen and put the dishes in the washer. “Maybe you’re tired. Bedroom’s by the front door, You’re more than welcome to use it. Bathroom’s in there as well if you need to wash up.” He said as he put the various foodstuffs into their respective homes.
“Oh, The older televisions used cathode ray tubes to project the image. There’s a whole bunch of science behind it. I never bothered to learn it though. They aren’t around as much as more modern methods.” He replied.
“Them. I call them patrons or masters. They call themselves Fae. Here would call them spirits or fairies, I suppose.” She explained.
He took his right glove off and picked a piece of food up, Left hand still goved. He leaned back into the couch and cocked his head to look at her. “Fairies, huh? I never liked the ‘Fae’, They always seemed like assholes to me. I guess you could concur, yeah?” He said as he took a bite of the food. “You don’t look like you’re enjoying it too well. If you’d like something else, lemme know. I kind of forced this on you, Kinda shouldn’t have.” He sighed as he hung his head dramatically. “Reintegrating you into society is going to be a bitch and a half.” He mumbled. There was always the easier solution of just reporting her. She wouldn’t have to worry about all this. Zrin didn’t think it’d be the right thing to do.
“I guess since you’ve told me about your ‘Them’, I’ll tell you a bit about mine.” He picked up another bit a fish and finished eating it. He sat back further into the couch and continued. “I work for an organization, Or foundation if you will. They look for the strange things, The things that don’t make sense. Some of these things are dangerous, Even deadly, To the average person. This Foundation finds these anomalous objects, Or even anomalous people like yourself. They contain them and keep them from harming the day to day. They research them to better defend humans from dangers no one else understands.” He picked up another bit of cheddar covered cod. He threw it in his mouth and swallowed it whole. “Best part is that it doesn’t exist. No one knows about it.”
He pulled a straw out of his jacket and stuck it in his lemonade. He brought it up and took a sip.
“That does tell me that they weren’t good at indoctrination.” He laughed. “I don’t even know where to start. There’s so much that has happened in such a short amount of time.” He sat the cup down and swallowed.
He shifted around to face Hekater more directly. “I’m considered an anomalous person, Just like you. So we’re kind of in the same-ish boat here. It’s more like we’re in the same type of boat, But not exactly the same boat. I also wouldn’t worry about all this trans-dimensional crap. It’ll only blow your brain up.” He chuckled. He finished his last piece of his cod and took the plate and stood up.
“Can I get’cha anything else? If you aren’t hungry, That’s cool.” He walked into the kitchen and put the dishes in the washer. “Maybe you’re tired. Bedroom’s by the front door, You’re more than welcome to use it. Bathroom’s in there as well if you need to wash up.” He said as he put the various foodstuffs into their respective homes.
"Cath-o-what?" Hekater squinted. For all she knew he was speaking little more than gibberish now. Something alien and something she had never had the opportunity to grab a hold of. She gave another prod of the food, taking another mouthful of fish and chewing upon it. Her brow creased as she tried to once more work through his words, "Human food is strange. And somewhat foreign seeming. The taste is..." she exhaled, "Flavours are different in the fae lands, so this is... relearning." She became slightly more attentive then, "I am not sure how this reintergrating is going to be a dog and a half. Do you mean to say it will be difficult?"
When his Them were spoken of she stopped eating. She listened, drawing the information together, the words and applying it to some form of logic she could match to. Even as he continued the thoughts turned round, calculating while a small slither of concern began to settle its way in. Understandably wary, it made her give a quick glance around his form - reading and checking. He had yet to hurt her, had yet to cause much suspicion, if anything he had proven to be clean and definitely not a threat. Her lips gave a twitch and asked the obvious question, "So. Now you've found me. What are you going to do?"
His mention of poor indoctrination caused her to raise an eyebrow. She spoke softly then, "All dogs, regardless of their training, will bite their master if they are hungry enough. If you starve a beast for long enough they will begin to lose rational." She took another small mouthful of the food, still largely undecided about it, "Same if you beat them enough. Eventually the tamest will snarl and snap."
Still, it was interesting to see him laugh - though if it was in general or at her she could not tell. She watched him finish his food and looked down to hers half eaten. It was quicker speed she ate the rest of it - though more out of believed politeness at this point. She drunk the rest of the lemonade, disregarding the taste for now before offering both over to him.
"I don't see how we're in the same boat," she brought her hands to her sides then, back straightening as she sat, "You have a beak and are certainly... less human seeming than me." It was an obvious statement in her mind, "And I imagine that a brain blowing up would be messy, both figuratively and literally." Her eyes looked around to the furnishings then before settling on his general shape, "Nothing is needed. I don't feel tired. Do I need to wash up?"
Hekater shifted slightly on the seat, gaze turning to her knees this time in inspection, "Books. Do you have books? You said a lot has happened. Would books have records of such?"
When his Them were spoken of she stopped eating. She listened, drawing the information together, the words and applying it to some form of logic she could match to. Even as he continued the thoughts turned round, calculating while a small slither of concern began to settle its way in. Understandably wary, it made her give a quick glance around his form - reading and checking. He had yet to hurt her, had yet to cause much suspicion, if anything he had proven to be clean and definitely not a threat. Her lips gave a twitch and asked the obvious question, "So. Now you've found me. What are you going to do?"
His mention of poor indoctrination caused her to raise an eyebrow. She spoke softly then, "All dogs, regardless of their training, will bite their master if they are hungry enough. If you starve a beast for long enough they will begin to lose rational." She took another small mouthful of the food, still largely undecided about it, "Same if you beat them enough. Eventually the tamest will snarl and snap."
Still, it was interesting to see him laugh - though if it was in general or at her she could not tell. She watched him finish his food and looked down to hers half eaten. It was quicker speed she ate the rest of it - though more out of believed politeness at this point. She drunk the rest of the lemonade, disregarding the taste for now before offering both over to him.
"I don't see how we're in the same boat," she brought her hands to her sides then, back straightening as she sat, "You have a beak and are certainly... less human seeming than me." It was an obvious statement in her mind, "And I imagine that a brain blowing up would be messy, both figuratively and literally." Her eyes looked around to the furnishings then before settling on his general shape, "Nothing is needed. I don't feel tired. Do I need to wash up?"
Hekater shifted slightly on the seat, gaze turning to her knees this time in inspection, "Books. Do you have books? You said a lot has happened. Would books have records of such?"
"I am not sure how this reintegrating is going to be a dog and a half. Do you mean to say it will be difficult?"
Zrin chuckled, “That's exactly what I mean. Language has changed a lot from however long ago you've come from.”
"Same if you beat them enough. Eventually the tamest will snarl and snap."
Zrin nodded in agreement. “The trick though, is moderation. It's like boiling a frog. If you throw a frog in a pot of boiling water, he'll jump right out. If you put the frog in a pot of cold water and slowly turn up the heat. The frog won't notice the gradual change in temperature and he'll boil. If you just incessantly beat the crap out of someone, obviously they'll snap. If you do it subtly, with suggestion instead of beating. I think that's the better way to go.” He explained.
"I don't see how we're in the same boat, You have a beak and are certainly... less human seeming than me." She said as she straightened up.
He paused for a moment, thinking about her question. “I think you're taking this a tad bit literally. As I said before, language has changed a lot. People say things that mean something different than face value. What I meant was that we're both the odd ones out. Both of us don't belong here, but here we are.”
"Nothing is needed. I don't feel tired. Do I need to wash up?" She asked.
“I don't know, do you?” He asked from the kitchen. “That's another thing, you need to learn to think for yourself. You're free, you don't really have to ask permission to survive.”
"Books. Do you have books? You said a lot has happened. Would books have records of such?" She asked.
Zrin walked back from the cleaned kitchen and leaned on the half wall behind the couch. “That's a good idea. However, I doubt you'll find an encyclopedia on the World since you were abducted by the Fae.” He sat there a moment, thinking about introducing her to the internet. He should probably hold off on that. “There are books in the bedroom, why don't you check ‘em out?” He asked.
He walked off towards the front door and made a left through the open door. Inside was a slightly rectangular room that opened to the left. An unkempt queen sized bed occupied the center of the room. The headboard sat between two windows. A desk in the far corner with a computer on it. Behind it was a closet where Zrin kept all his clothes, most were ill gotten. The door to the bathroom sat next to that. He stepped further into the room and turned around. Beside the door was a long dresser that sat against the wall.
On top of the dresser were a variety of books. Some were fantasy, science fiction. Some were about the theory of the multiverse and the study of memetics. Others were non fictions of various topics. One was a comedy book, a book about chicken soup was above it. A book on depression laid above both.
Zrin sat at the foot of the bed and crossed his legs.
Zrin chuckled, “That's exactly what I mean. Language has changed a lot from however long ago you've come from.”
"Same if you beat them enough. Eventually the tamest will snarl and snap."
Zrin nodded in agreement. “The trick though, is moderation. It's like boiling a frog. If you throw a frog in a pot of boiling water, he'll jump right out. If you put the frog in a pot of cold water and slowly turn up the heat. The frog won't notice the gradual change in temperature and he'll boil. If you just incessantly beat the crap out of someone, obviously they'll snap. If you do it subtly, with suggestion instead of beating. I think that's the better way to go.” He explained.
"I don't see how we're in the same boat, You have a beak and are certainly... less human seeming than me." She said as she straightened up.
He paused for a moment, thinking about her question. “I think you're taking this a tad bit literally. As I said before, language has changed a lot. People say things that mean something different than face value. What I meant was that we're both the odd ones out. Both of us don't belong here, but here we are.”
"Nothing is needed. I don't feel tired. Do I need to wash up?" She asked.
“I don't know, do you?” He asked from the kitchen. “That's another thing, you need to learn to think for yourself. You're free, you don't really have to ask permission to survive.”
"Books. Do you have books? You said a lot has happened. Would books have records of such?" She asked.
Zrin walked back from the cleaned kitchen and leaned on the half wall behind the couch. “That's a good idea. However, I doubt you'll find an encyclopedia on the World since you were abducted by the Fae.” He sat there a moment, thinking about introducing her to the internet. He should probably hold off on that. “There are books in the bedroom, why don't you check ‘em out?” He asked.
He walked off towards the front door and made a left through the open door. Inside was a slightly rectangular room that opened to the left. An unkempt queen sized bed occupied the center of the room. The headboard sat between two windows. A desk in the far corner with a computer on it. Behind it was a closet where Zrin kept all his clothes, most were ill gotten. The door to the bathroom sat next to that. He stepped further into the room and turned around. Beside the door was a long dresser that sat against the wall.
On top of the dresser were a variety of books. Some were fantasy, science fiction. Some were about the theory of the multiverse and the study of memetics. Others were non fictions of various topics. One was a comedy book, a book about chicken soup was above it. A book on depression laid above both.
Zrin sat at the foot of the bed and crossed his legs.
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