EVENT - THE BLACK CITY

[faileas]

Event Log: August, The Black City

A STARLESS SKY You feel like you're floating. Around you, colors and sounds and smells swirl as if trapped in a whirlpool, vibrancy and hue ever shifting. The more you watch them, the less solid they are; they only become clear out of the corner of your eye. The area around you begins to feel more solid as well, until your feet are on the ground, the taste of smog and fog heavy in your lungs - and you know one thing, and one thing alone: this is a dream, and an incredibly realistic one at that. Unlike the last time this shared dream happened, only familiar faces of your fellow mirrorbound appear around you; and unlike the last time that flavor of dream happened, those native to the city of Aefenglom are nowhere to be found. Instead, an impossibly tall wall raises in front of you; along it run small windows with people peering from the edges, arrows shimmering with the tell-tale glitter of magic peeking from the darkness, with more figures standing guard or patrolling the top of it. The wall itself is made of a dark, onyx-like stone - it's reflective in the smoothness of its bricks, painting all who look into it in clear darkness, and the effect is similarly found in the wide moat that surrounds the city, the faint sound of a river feeding into it the only thing to hear in the tense silence. Only one massive door stands as the entrance to the city, chains hanging across it with the protective runes of a barrier some of you might be familiar with by now. With a groan the chains begin to pull away, the door lowering across the moat as a bridge, and a party of Witches - for they must be Witches, the pins on their cloaks the same as those found in the Coven in Aefenglom - urges the group inside. Monsters find it easier to obey the orders - compelled to, even - but perhaps that's the safety of the city calling out to you, and nothing more.

I. THE CITY ITSELF While Aefenglom is known for its dusk-hued skies, made of lustrous pinks and purples and blues, this city is dreary to the core. The streets are covered in a perpetual fog, not unlike the city you hail from, but thicker, denser, tinged with the flavor of industrial smog from the factories whose spires you can see in the distance. Magitech lights - lanterns above doors, street posts, flickering in the windows you pass - illuminate everything throughout the entire day, as if the sunshine can't reach through the foreboding fog nor the onyx walls. Even the windows are barred, offering a paranoid protection against the outside world. Doors seem hardier, and each building is reinforced and protected in a way that may feel familiar to those that have encountered the protective magic wards. They're heavier, leaving an almost ominous presence that causes unease to hang just as heavy in the air as the smog. The people of this city are just as dreary as the streets, though they do mill about with the same frequency as any city. Unlike the citizens of the dead Aefenglom that were encountered just the month before, however, these are real, living people. They can be spoken to. They can be touched. They interact with wariness and caution towards the strangers that have been heralded into their walled in world, especially those that show what they presume to be monstrous traits. Because it becomes quickly obvious that the majority of the citizens that answer a call, a question, a touch to gain their attention... They're human. a. OBEY AND SUBMIT Monsters that can be seen on the streets aren't few and far between, however. Their presence is subtle, in the fog and amidst the passing crowds of passing faces, but they're there. On a surface level, most of them seem to be fairly at ease. Passive and unfazed by anyone that tries to interact with them, as if they're disinterested by their mere presence in a way that isn't reflected by their human counterparts. A closer look shows a strained pinch to their faces, a tenseness to their bodies, a glazed look just at the surface of their eyes. Too many attempts to interact with them will cause some humans to emerge from shops, or ask that you leave their business; these are the ones that are... employed, most often seen in the shopping and industrial districts. But their movements are almost robotic in repetition, and they never speak to anyone even when addressed - even when a keen eye might take note of the sturdy leather collars around their necks, reinforced by metal and with visible places to attach a leash. Some in the industrial district can be seen with these leashes, powerful chains to keep them attached to carts, to keep them from swimming down the river, from flying away and out of the black walls of the city. All Monsters present in the city are clothed, though it's the ones on the clearly decorative leashes with the more delicate collars that are the best dressed. They accompany humans throughout the city, the same placid blankness present much like their busier counterparts. These are the aristocrats and their so-called "Bonded," though implying the same tone one would take in Aefenglom here will net a deep set of disgust. Attempting to rouse these Monsters does very little, and may even result in them jerking away and cowering behind their human company. b. GOING ONCE, GOING TWICE At one end of the city is a massive pavilion, one made of the same stone as the wall, giving off the same oppressive foreboding. Humans come and go from this peculiar town square with a casual air, an intent the same as a stroll through the stalls on the market street. Because that's, essentially, what they're doing. Monsters young and old put on display to show their abilities and strengths, tasks that range from the physically demanding to performances of artistic abilities. Some seem to be just at the surface of awareness, their glazed expressions refocusing at times with a sort of strained fear that's visible even at a glance. Many don't even react outside of doing the tasks they're ordered to do, going through the motions as a barker speaks at length about them, their abilities, how much their labor goes for and what they cost. These Monsters are purchased by the humans of the city at each display, many of them never wearing more than their basic clothes and the customary collar, a chain to keep them tied to their station with a generous enough reach. Most come and go with very little struggle, but some... it becomes obvious that they've broken through the surface and are coming up for air for the first time in a long time. Wooden posts where the chains are connected can be heard splintering with the force of their struggle, metal bending under pressure, the anxious energy of something about to happen. But the fights never last long, as attendants wearing Coven pins on their cloaks swoop in to attend to the situation - and many dreamers might notice a familiar Witch filtering in and out of the events, speaking to the auctioneers before departing for another selling. It's difficult to recall their face later, no matter how clearly one saw it before, but one thing is certain: while not necessarily prim and proper, this person is someone with a steel spine and a sharp eye. And they saw you, just the same as you saw them. c. AT BECK AND CALL With enough observation, or perhaps even experience, it becomes apparently how this is happening: any command or order issued to a Monster is taken to the most literal, and Monsters have no choice but to obey. Many Monsters employed as workers are so deep in the compulsion that they won't obey any additional commands, unless it comes from the person they have this most warped "Bond" with. Others will accept commands from anyone, even the mirrorbound Witches that have come into their city. Even the most asinine command is one that they'd obey, and one that maybe even you'll obey, too. Having a friend playfully tell them to shut up? They're forced into silence until told that they can speak again. Told to jump off a bridge? Best make sure you specify that you don't want them to jump off of a very high one, if you really want them gone that badly. Handstands, cartwheels, jumping jacks - but also, hurting someone, hurting themselves... one has to hope the Monster in question has a strong willpower, or it's a command that goes against one that's already been issued to them. But something of note is that mirrorbound Monsters of Aefenglom will find that they're also effected by this, though they're better able to fight the compulsion. Those with weaker constitutions may need help snapping out of the command, especially as a powerful command will be painful to fight against, and Witches will have to watch their words. Take care that your friends, your peers, the strangers you've arrived with, don't find themselves attending the auction block - it's a very real possibility in this place, with an unknown Monster unattended and uncollared. It should all be harmless, though. After all, this is only a dream... isn't it? No NPCs are available for this log - unlike with the midsummer dream, they're nowhere to be seen. No Nessie, no Mhairi, no one. Which means that there's no one to counsel them as they find themselves exploring the setting, and discovering that they're just as susceptible as the people in the dream...

II. THE COVEN Unlike with Aefenglom, there isn't a proper Parliament. A little investigation will lead to the discovery that the Coven of this city is the main governing body, which may explain a great deal about why there's such a massive presence of magic here. Located at the center of town - all roads lead to the Coven, a massive stone building with sharp looking spires - the grounds are notable in that there's nothing even remotely similar to the Looking-Glass House that everyone has come to know, despite its secrets. Should one gain entry to the main building of the Coven itself, they'll find that all the mirrors are within. Their main focuses of magic, rather than the more broad spectrum/free-to-study policy that Miss Nessie encourages, are enchantment and abjuration - for control, primarily. They're also heavy studiers of runes, visible across the city and with an even heavier influence in the wards of the Coven itself. They are, regardless, fairly welcoming to eager young minds wanting to learn. So long as the Monsters are left behind. But who's to say that you can't disguise a Monster? a. STUDY TIME Those curious about the Coven's library are welcome to investigate it for themselves, the Witches all smiling faces as they usher their visitors in. But they'll soon find that they aren't really left to their own devices; a member of this Coven branch is practically around every corner, and while they try to be subtle about their observation it becomes quickly obvious that they're not there for their own studies. They're stationed around the library to ensure that their guests don't make off with any of their resources, or try to get into any forbidden sections of the expansive library. Where the Coven library of Aefenglom - as well as the Undermael College's library - plays devil's advocate, with accounts and studies conducted from both sides of the anti-Monster sentiment and attempt to expand upon outdated knowledge... these ones have a decidedly anti-Monster lean in every regard. Any attempts to find otherwise will be met with bemused amusement by the Coven members, and a note that they don't carry such things here. After all, they're certainly not Aefenglom. They would never carry anything that could put their citizens at risk in such a way. Nevermind those horrid Bonds that Bell goes on and on about - it's no wonder that they're always at odds with their government. If only they'd wisen up, hm? Perhaps these new arrivals would like to transfer to their branch, instead, to better guarantee their growth. b. THROUGH THESE HALLS If one manages to slip away from the library without having somebody tailing them, they'll soon discover that the chilled atmosphere doesn't simply linger in the city itself. The halls are cold, the runes unwelcoming unlike the homey feel that Nerissa Bell's charms offer. Certainly home isn't perfect - and there's no denying that the sentiment is shared by many - but the smiling faces of the Black City's branch are at odds with the feel of their magic, the caged in weight pressing down on everything, including your shoulders. The halls are dimly lit by flickering lights, enchanted lanterns with a constantly burning yellow-white fire. Plenty of nooks and dark corners afford even large Monsters the ability to sneak through the halls, should they be snuck in for better investigation with their peers. Take care, however; there are Witches coming and going constantly. An empty room might lead to a study, a classroom, a bedroom. Locked doors don't yield easily, even in a dream, and may need to be abandoned. But a terrible, foreboding feeling emanates from large double doors that are rigidly locked. Hushed voices speak from the other side, and it's almost like the cold feeling that spreads throughout the Coven itself finds its source behind those doors. Periodically, sounds of pain escape from within - but they die out to whimpers, then silence, before they can ever get too loud. A crisp voice speaks only one word, clear even through the wood and the magic: "Again."

III. THE DARK UNDERBELLY There's always more to a city than the streets that you can see at the surface level. If you're looking, it's not hard to spot the signs. There are runes that mark walls and cobblestone streets like graffiti, and a studied eye might realize that they're not the same sort that have subjugated the more monstrously inclined of the Black City. These are intended to dispel magic, and the moment that a member of the Coven notices it - it's swept up as soon as possible, scrubbed clean or scorched off with magic. People take to the streets in small groups, standing their ground and raising their voices above the muffled din of a foggy city. They carry chains and collars that have been broken, but many of them are undeniably human as they confront something that has so obviously become the norm. Break the chains! they demand. Break the spell! Monsters go missing from the auctions with a well-placed distraction - perhaps you're one of the individuals being freed from the pavilion, or someone that's realized that there are people coming and going through the crowds, wearing the same cloaks as the Coven but without their iconic pins, dressed as aristocracy, from all walks of life... smuggling the Monsters away at the first chance. a. PARTY TO PROTEST Not every uprising can be swept under the rug at first sign, however. Witches take to the streets, looking surprised to see the mirrorbound arrivals from Aefenglom - and it's not the same wariness that most would give them. This is the calculating eye of someone assessing whether the person they've met will help or hinder, and some of them decided that you're to be help. Enchanted slips of paper are pushed into hands, runes are taught as quickly as possible in a hushed whisper and explanation, locations given out to Witch and Monster alike with a word of caution. Use the paper on a surface, any surface, and you'll see. Use the runes to break the compulsion - you might have to do it twice, thrice, however many times it takes to dispel the magic. Don't be caught. Using the enchantment as instructed - pressing the paper against a wall, the ground, a post, anything - will result in glowing runes overtaking the surface. It's the same as the runes that are taught to Witches, used to ward against the magic in place just as much as it is to create a statement of protest. If one goes to a location that is whispered to them, they'll find that they've joined an organized protest. It's small in size, a mixture of Witches and unleashed Monsters. Due to the size and frequency it's easy enough to find them, but the guards are very quick in putting them down or hiding any traces of them from the public eye, despite the protesters' best attempts. There's nothing amiss in the city, and nothing for citizens to worry about. b. REST AND REGROUP But they can't find every source of the resistance. It isn't hard for dreamgoers to find themselves swept up by these protesters. Any help is welcome, and those that show an inclination towards helping the Monsters of the city - or their Monsters that they know, regardless people that shouldn't suffer this way - will be taken into the fold. Entrances to their secret routes can be found in places that are hidden in plain sight. A storefront tended to by a Monster with eyes in sharp clarity when they look up from their robotic work welcomes a group of people in and behind the counter, to where a hatch door is hidden in the floor. A manhole cover is pried up, where people are smuggled down below. A portal is prepared, a different and darker destination on the other side. They all lead to the same location. The sewers are vast beneath this city. Much like the labyrinth that many faced in the Midsummer nightmare, it almost seems winding, endless, and the water is cold when it's crossed. But even with the stank of the runoff, the musty and moldy air, there's never the sense of dread, of death. Instead, there are signs of when you're going the right way - runes that shimmer only when looking at them out of the corner of your eye, or when you know what to look for. Three stars together - sometimes overlapping, sometimes circling each other, but always three, and always five points. While they appreciate the help, the mirrorbound aren't invited in by the revolutionaries to the main hideout. But it becomes obvious by charm bracelets, necklaces, piercings, tattoos, embroidery and stitching on shirts; this symbol, and its presence, is integral to their world beneath the city. But many are welcome to mingle throughout their circle. In the sewers, the shops, the small park where a rune gives secret announcements to those who know where to look for it on the third bench, even the homes of people that certainly don't look like revolutionaries, let alone anyone that would be a protector.

Welcome to the Black City! As a reminder, this takes place on August 18th - or rather, 3AM on the August 19th, much like the midsummer nightmare. If you have any questions or need any clarifications, you can ask them here! And as always, while we do encourage you to use this log, you can feel free to thread things out on your own log or elsewhere. Characters are allowed to try and start fights in the city, create prompts based on the information given instead of using the ones given exactly, and poke their noses where they don't belong - we encourage it, actually. But regardless of what you choose, we hope you have a good time!

And as a final parting note: If a character dies in the dream, they'll simply reappear at the beginning rather than waking up like normal.

Comments

paris mercout | merrow | OTA

[oceanschild]

In the City

Paris feels sick... but resigned.

He notices the collars early, puzzled by them and perhaps pointing them out to someone he's with, who knows him; it's not hard to tell that it's just the monsters who have them, and that the monsters here are all very quiet. Not that Paris can blame them. He's quiet himself, and the dreariness of this city certainly makes him want to hide behind his few friends, but this is... different. And it becomes obvious all too quickly why.

He doesn't bother to fight it. It's not like they can, obviously. Any order compels him, and it's possible to find him in the hold of an order, to carry something, to stand still and be silent, and eventually, in the process of being dragged to the auction block. It might be hard to known him for a mirrorbound, if someone doesn't know him for how easily he's pulled along, but there's a pleading look in his eyes for those more openly against what's happening- he assumes they, like him, don't belong here.

The Underbelly

Paris is... hesitant to actively participate in whatever's happening. He did not enjoy nearly being sold off, obviously, and he's not liking the orders much better (well, select orders from people might go off really well but no one's tried more enjoyable applications yet). However he's not exactly an active agent in most senses of the word. It's not like he owes it to the people here to help with this; even if it's something more than a dream (which he suspects it might be), what's the point? They do not need him specifically, and they likely wouldn't want him specifically. He feels no obligation to this cause, and the idea that they might be morally right, well... he doesn't really consider himself a terribly moral person.

Still, he recognizes other people might be, so when a likely looking person comes along, he'll offer it. "Um... here. If you'd like."

Wildcard

[Hit me up! Feel free in particular to catch Paris and give him orders. :')]

In the city

[ishisstrength]

Justine caught sight of Paris being pulled along the streets by a stranger. She didn't know if this was good or bad but panic flared in her chest at the sight and she reacted instantly. "Paris, come here." She instantly felt a stab of guilt knowing that he wouldn't be able to ignore what was more or less a command but she couldn't protect him without him being nearby.

The man who had been stringing Paris along glared at her but Justine didn't back down. She met his ire with her own and hell had no furry that compared to the wrath of a woman. Silent seconds passed and the man continued walking.

Justine exhaled and turned towards Paris, her fingers lightly touching his shoulders and cheeks to make sure that he's okay. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have gave you a command. Are you okay? He didn't do anything to you did he?"

[oceanschild]

Paris feels himself pulled by the order before he properly registers where it's coming from, turning on his heel and walking towards the direction of the order. Once he sees who it is, the glum expression on his face changes, becoming a mix of hopeful and relieved.

He doesn't look back at the man who'd been leading him to the auction, only really letting the tension leave him when the footsteps die off. "I'm alright," he says quietly, giving her a weak, half-hearted smile, "He didn't do anything, other than order me. ...I-I don't mind that you did it." It's fine when it's her, honestly.

[ishisstrength]

Justine pulled Paris into a tight hug. "I'm so glad that you're okay. I found Connor too. He was already on the auction block but he should be safe now." She'd given him a collar that was enchanted to her own magic. If it broke or if someone else tried to read its magic, it'd come back to her. It was painful but it was the only way she'd know that he was safe and the only reason she wasn't follow him around now.

"I'm just so glad I found you." There was no way for Justine to find Paris except by scouring the city for him and like Connor, he was someone who she'd come to feel painfully real feelings for. It was uncomfortable but it was also too late to go back now.

"Paris." She gently pulled away and realized that this was probably the worst time to ask this. "Would you consider Bonding with me now? We can find someone to do it here, I'm sure we can. I just-" Tears dotted the corner of her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

[oceanschild]

It is absolutely the worst time to ask this, but not because Paris is going to say no. More because Paris has weird intimacy issues out the wazoo and is sure she's just doing this because of where they are. (This is probably not a thing that should surprise her, given how lowly Paris seems to think of himself in pretty much any context; the current disdain from humans is not helping.)

"I--" Paris swallows, looking over her expression and reaching up to brush the tears from her eyes, "I... I would. You don't-- you don't have to. I-I'll be alright." He would absolutely not be alright, debatably very much isn't given how long he's been without a bond, luckily his instincts have just kicked into higher gear rather than going full feral. But he doesn't want her pressured into anything, even if it's the situation that's pressuring her.

[ishisstrength]

"No." She closed her eyes. "Stop thinking that."

Paris didn't have to say anything for her to know his thoughts. He was one of the few people in the city that Justine felt close too and she'd seen the way he constantly tore himself down. It was probably the only think about him that Justine hated. She didn't want him to think that he was worth so little when he was worth so much to her.

"I don't have to do anything." She opened her eyes and met his gaze. "I've wanted to ask you for a while. But there is always something. I wait for it to be over and calm and then there is something else again. I'm tired of waiting for things to stop Paris. I want to be there for you. Please let me."

[oceanschild]

Paris blinks at her, puzzled when she says that she'd wanted to ask him. He... had certainly thought about asking her. She was one of the few people here he genuinely trusted, and even though the bond back in the city was different from here, it's not like trust wouldn't be a crucial part of it. (Hell if these bonds were made more around trust he feels he'd like this place better.)

He bites his lip, searching her face just to make sure, because he's pretty sure he'd rather die than foist anything on her she did want. But after a moment, he tentatively nods. "...Alright. I-- I would... like it. A lot."

in the city

[scaling]

This is different from the past dreams. With those, there was a sense of uneasiness, yes, but the atmosphere of this city is downright oppressive. Akira realizes almost immediately that something is even more off than usual, from the moment those Coven-cloaked Witches usher them through the gates. He'd call it a gut feeling, but it's a downright physical reaction, the edge of nausea gripping at him as he recognizes an influence that isn't his own encroaching upon his mind.

The moment they get through, he breaks away and takes to the shadows, and there he stays for a while, observing and discovering how this city operates. Dream or not, the vacant-eyed Monsters and sturdy collars turn his stomach. Akira wants to seek out his friends and acquaintances to confirm their safety, but moving out into the open would mean putting himself at risk of being taken in and leashed by any of the Witches crawling the street.

—And yet, when he finally spots a familiar face stationed nearby, there's no stopping his feet from carrying him out and towards Paris. There's that same distant look in his eyes that the other Monsters wear, like his consciousness is trapped somewhere deep inside. Akira doesn't see anyone who seems to be commanding him on the approach, but that doesn't mean he won't be making this quick.

"Paris," he hisses out as he approaches, ears shifted back with wariness. He hasn't yet tried to snap anyone out of this spell, so Akira tests it with a touch to his arm.

[oceanschild]

The good news, at least, is that Paris doesn't have a collar- he's been commandeered by a local, but no one has deigned to drag him to market for purchase yet. He suspected that was the plan, though; he'd been told to stay here until the man who'd found him returned. He's not looking forward to what's going to happen when the man gets back.

He's a little lost in his own world of misery when he hears his name, looking up at the touch of his arm. He blinks, trying to clear the fog of his vision when he spots the other boy. "Akira... A-are you ok?"

Paris you are not one to be asking that question right now.

[scaling]

Leave it to Paris to be worried for Akira's wellbeing when he's clearly the one in dire straits here. In other situation, he might stop to appreciate the concern, but this really isn't a situation where he can linger. It's a lucky enough break that Paris is able to snap out of that daze so quickly.

"I'm fine." On a basic physical level, anyway. The rest—well, that's not important in this very moment. What's important in gliding his hand down to grasp Paris's wrist. "We've got to go," he declares, turning to make a quick escape into the dense fog hanging in the streets—

Only to see a cloaked figure emerging from it. "Go where?" the Witch asks, eyes flickering to Paris. "I told you not to move."

[oceanschild]

Oh, shit.

Paris winces as the Witch recommends the previous order-- he doesn't go blank again, but his legs feel fairly rooted to the spot. (He could break out of it, if he had the will to, but... he's already pretty resigned to all of this happening.) Instead his concern is focused on Akira, because the witch had gotten him before he doesn't want Akira nabbed too.

"Please go," he whispers, hopefully quiet enough that the witch won't hear. Akira's fast enough, he might be able to get away before she can order anything of him.

[scaling]

Unlike the Witch, Paris's request holds no sway over him; even if it did, it's the kind that he would fight. It may be a dream, but he's not leaving Paris here to suffer through it.

"Oh no," the Witch begins, obviously sharp enough to pick up on the soft plea, her gaze settling on Akira with the confidence of someone who is used to being obeyed, "you stay right there."

The instinct to fight kicks in the moment he feels the haze of the command begin to take over his mind. Pain without source ripples through his body, demanding his compliance, but his focus narrows onto the wrist in his hold. He really can't be taken in by this, not when he means to get Paris away from it.

So he takes the hand that's unconsciously balled up at his side and swings it before that compulsion can set in completely. His knuckles meet bone, and the ache that blossoms through them serves to wake him up more. "We're going!" is all the warning he gives Paris before darting off while the Witch is momentarily stunned, dragging the other male along behind him.

[oceanschild]

Paris knew his plea wouldn't force Akira to do anything, but... he had hoped the other boy would listen. But of course, he doesn't even really get the chance to, and Paris winces; he knows exactly what kind of sensation is probably coursing through Akira right now, and he can't help but feel like it's his fault.

The guilt only lasts for a moment, though, as Akira takes a swing at the witch, startling Paris probably just as much as the woman. His eyes are wide with confusion (and perhaps something like admiration), but again, there's no time to think, only to move.

What held him in place when it was just him doesn't work in this situation; here, if he doesn't move, Akira will be trapped as well and he knows it. It gives him enough certainty to force his legs to work, even though it hurts, even though the pain is trying to incapacitate him through force if he will not choose to comply. But he pushes through it, running after Akira and letting him lead the way.

in the city;

[neutralally]

Worick has watched more than enough monsters get caught in a command of compliance and marched through the pavilion towards the auction block. For the most part they were glassy-eyed and moving in slow robotic movements after their handler. Maybe that's why Paris in particular stands out to him once the young man comes into view, being pulled down the same path as all the others. His eyes hold too much awareness, and there's a pleading in them as if he's asking for help. He's not drugged. Not like the others.

Could he be from Aefenglom?

He's moving forward through the crowd before he can stop and give his actions any thought. The other drugged and docile monsters are beyond his help, as they can't even help themselves at this point. But there's still a chance for this guy, if Worick can be persuasive enough.

"Hey, let him go. I know him. His witch has been looking for him all damn day." His long hair falls into waves over his shoulders, disguising the inhuman curve of his ears, while his hands are tucked away in his pockets to hide the blue and green scales that cover the backs of them. At a glance, he appears to be a normal human. A fact that seems to appease Paris' guard somewhat, as he does come to a stop to hear him out.

"You alright, kid?" This question he direction towards Paris. It's more of a test to see whether he's able to speak or not. Worick figures he already knows the answer to the question anyways.

[oceanschild]

Paris does not recognize the man, but he knows well enough to keep his mouth shut- whoever this person is is either sympathetic to his plight, or is just.... trying to get a monster to bind for free. And if it's the latter, well. His fate is sealed either way, isn't it?

His handler stops to look over Worick, trying to determine whether or not he's lying, and Paris doesn't know what will make it more likely to think he's telling the truth. Initially, he just nods in response to the question (even though he is clearly not), but then reconsiders, adding, "Y-Yes, I'm fine." Perhaps that would make it seem more like this is someone he knew...? He's not very good at this, and hopes Worick has some kind of plan.

[neutralally]

Worick's plan, if it can be called that, is simple. Tell the truth. Or a very carefully worded version of the truth. Just enough that it won't be so obvious that he's lying. While the guard is still looking him up and down in consideration, he continues speaking.

"We're new to town. You might have heard about a group of newcomers arriving at the gates this morning? That's us. If you're wondering why he doesn't have a collar, that's why. His witch was going to get him one after we arrived but they got separated in the crowd. It's so easy to get turned around in a new place, you know?"

The guard grudgingly agrees with him. He has heard something about new arrivals and a bunch of collarless monsters among them. Finally he releases his hold on Paris, giving him a non-too gentle push towards Worick.

"Be sure to keep a closer eye on him from now on", says the guard.

"Yes sir. My eye will remain on him at all times until we reunite with his witch."

Worick offers the guard's back a jaunty wave as he walks away, before turning to the other man.

"Just stick with me until we get clear of the pavilion, alright? I don't think that story will stand up to another telling."

[oceanschild]

It'd a pretty good plan. Paris isn't exactly a great liar (not that Worick would know that) so it's the easiest for him to go along with.

Not that he has to do much- mostly just stand there and look compliant, he's pretty sure, and not act like the man is the total stranger that he is. He stumbles forward when he's pushed, not looking back and instead trying to keep his focus on the man in front of him. He really, really hopes this man is being... well. Marginally honest.

He looks up at Worick, giving a small nod. It's not until they're far enough away that he's reasonably confident he won't be heard that he speaks. "...T-thank you..."

[neutralally]

Worick leads them through the crowd, hands carefully tucked away in his pockets. It had been stupid to wave at the guard, even if he couldn't see it, while so many people had been surrounding them and could have noticed the sunlight catching on the gleam of his scales. But he just couldn't resist.

The longer he's in this place, the urge to act out grows stronger. But he needs to keep a tight rein on it least he be the next one to end up on the auction block.

Paris' unease is easy to see for Worick and had been from the start. Hell, it would be more surprising if he wasn't suspicious of any apparent good Samaritan trying to lure him away alone in a place like this. Which is why, once they're a good distance away, he pulls one hand out of his pockets and holds it out so that Paris can see the backside. Blue and green scales shimmer across the back of his hand and disappear under his sleeve.

"No need to thank me. Just keep your head down and don't give anyone any reason to haul you off again." Easier said then done, of course. He knows that anything short of Paris acquiring a collar to wear will only make the people of this city eager to capture him on general purpose.

[oceanschild]

When Worick shows Paris his hand, even for that brief moment, it does make Paris relax. Ok. Even if Worick wanted to do something sinister, his ability was less than half of the other people in this city. That's good. He would take that, for now.

"I'll try..." It's harder for him- his arms he could hide, and his gils he might be able to conceal with a collared shirt or something, but the fins on his ears were too prominent for anything to work. Trying would likely make him look more suspicious, not less. "...Are you from here?"

in the city.

[rightfoot]

This has been a challenge for him, and he's been careful about the things he's said. He didn't want to cause trouble, and he didn't want to issue commands to anyone. He didn't like the idea of people being forced into obedience. It weirded him out. So, he kept his mouth shut. He made a point to essentially not speak, since he didn't want to cause trouble for anyone.

He makes a face, though. He wants to help a few people. If he can. He's known what it's like to feel less than and at the bottom. So, when there's one in particular that he notices, he approaches, quietly. Watching him for several moments before he speaks.

"You don't look okay."

[oceanschild]

Paris is, rather decidedly, not ok at all. But he doesn't know how to cope with it so he's just staying as quiet and out of the way as he possibly can. The only that that makes him even remotely comfortable with Lousie's approach is that, well. He's clearly not one of the people here selling Monsters to the highest bidder.

"I, um. I'll be fine." It's too big of a lie to say that he is currently. "...Thank you though." For even acknowledging it. It's much more than a lot of people here are doing.

[rightfoot]

Louis looked unconvinced by Paris' answer, and just narrowed his eyes and watched him. He sighed, deeply, at whatever was happening here.

"Now tell me, honestly, are you okay?"

Not normally a way he would want to use whatever power he has, but he can't have people who aren't okay go around pretending they are. It was harder to help someone if they were convinced that things would work out. And while he didn't normally help strangers, this weird vibe the entire situation is giving him is making him realize he should.

[oceanschild]

Paris flinches a little at the order, and he can feel the pain that comes with resisting for even a moment flair up, compelling him to obey.

"No," he says, his voice very quiet as he looks down at his feet. He's not sure if he should say any more, and he wasn't given an order to elaborate, but the words spill from him before he has the chance to stop them. "I don't understand why this is happening or if it's really just a dream how it can these things to us, and I hate it but I don't think anything I could do would actually stop it."

[rightfoot]

"Oh! Sorry." Oh. He feels bad giving a command. "You don't have to listen anymore. I just wanted to know for sure." And he had a feeling that he wasn't doing well. He almost reaches out for him, but instead he pulls his hand back for now. He isn't sure how he can really help, or how the other would feel about it. "It feels like a dream. Who knows, yet. I'll be more careful though."

He pauses. "What's your name?"

[oceanschild]

"It-- it kind of is?" Paris knows it's a dream; he remembers how this has gone before. But this one has lasted a long time, and feels different from the others. He hesitates to say more sinister, seeing as the last one left them in an abandoned city that had a dying leviathan. But it's definitely... off.

But he just sighs, messing with his hair. He hates all of this. "...I'm Paris."