...Hard to parse history when you're in the middle of living it.
[Especially on a ground zero. Tunnels and machines. Secret plots. Some kind of conspiracy?
One that went horrifically wrong of course. Perhaps it was unwise to ask more. Especially tonight. She's got her curiosities and they are morbid, but she can't stand the shadow that comes over his face when she pries. If it were anything productive maybe she'd push, something that might make him reconsider his plans, or help walk him through something vital?
But it's not. Just idle wondering. Camille hums and turns that nosy inquiry about-face.]
I do think it's funny, how much our worlds are all echoes of each other. You have people like Todomatsu, Asa, and the sorcerer boys Geto and Gojo. All three from the same country, Japan, but none of them are from the same Japan as the other. Then there's you, a little step to the left, but you're still cooking with ingredients from the same fridge.
Then you have the outliers, like Gale and Astarion and Karlach, or Izutsumi. But even then, they're not so foreign they're unrecognizable. The myths and mechanics, the languages...even the clothes. You'd think they'd be much further removed, but it's still familiar. Maybe they're strange at a glance, but I don't think anyone here is alien in the way they should be.
Makes me wonder if it's a sort of reflection, just one that gets distorted the further you go. Like mirrors in a carnival funhouse.
[ Maybe... just maybe if he'd had a fourth day. Or if he knew their suspicions had actual founding, then maybe rewind a day and start the search early. More time, more direction. Maybe then, fate could change... except little does he know that the Logic Route also ends in his end albeit in a much... less... worse way, so you know. Maybe it's a good thing he isn't getting mad inspiration here to try Route A even harder now.
He listens along, having half a mind to comment 'sounds like you were expecting textbook aliens,' only to snort softly when she drops the a-name herself anyway. ]
Was the dog not enough?
[ Though granted, it does seem like humans are still kind of the norm there, ish. Arcanists are a special group. ]
Maybe they just pull from what's familiar. You don't know if an actual alien would count for the summoning ritual of a man-made god... or something. Like how they coudln't just grab forty butterflies and meet the quota with far less issue.
[once again, maybe just leave your world forever Daan]
Pickles is still an Earth-style dog. If he had amphibian skin and eyestalks...
[Could be stranger. After two months a talking dog is almost passé.]
There’s diminishing returns on tormenting butterflies too. Can't hear them scream. [Imagine how easy creating gods would be if you only needed a bunch of bugs. Just burn a beehive and call it a day.] Just saying, when it comes to other worlds the last thing that comes to mind is London with the letter switched.
Though maybe speculative fiction hasn't hit an extra-terrestrial fever in Europa yet. Give it another twenty years, when you're landing rockets on the moon.
[ You know what's funny. That's actually in Abella's B Ending. She never quite gets over the trauma of Prehevil and decides to specialise from mechanical enginering into rocket science and intends to land a rocket on the moon. Insanity first off, but we love women in STEM.
He just raises a brow. ]
Europa has speculative fiction. Theorising about life across horizons has always existed. But given they're still trying to navigate Vinland first before trying the great frontier...
[ He frowns, obviously uncertain about the idea of landing rockets on the moon. That's neither here nor there though. ]
[ABELLA THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE. I'm sorry i got both of your arms cut off we can get them back maybe, we have marcoh and olivia now....
Anyway Camille chuckles, shaking her head.]
Oh no, don't go accusing me of having imagination. Any flights of fancy I have are strictly borrowed from popular culture. We're a media people. One of our biggest exports is film.
I've always steered closer to the ground. Even as a kid, I liked history and the news better than fantasy. [She smiles, looking down into her drink. Remembering her immediate alarm and awe at the pyre, waking in cultist robes.] Probably why I panicked so much off the bat, beyond the kidnapping. Embracing magic and mysticism might be easier if I'd dreamed about it, even once.
You'd be surprised. Plenty of people can read fiction and just can't wrap their heads around it no matter how hard they try.
...
Hardly the norm for anyone. Just because I'd been through something frighteningly similar hardly means that's anything usual, and that the camp hadn't been any less strange. [ Cult robes and flowers were outlandish. ] ...Anyway, you don't need to embrace any of that.
Don't I? Can't go back to believing it's not real, can I?
[She shakes her head. His experience is exceptional, true, but all the sacrifices had been cherry picked for exceptionalism. Fantastic origins and terrible fates for everyone, save for her and maybe Todomatsu. She only sticks out because lightning struck twice in her family: a true crime wet dream, two female killers in one family. Drop Camille amid all these chosen ones, princesses and wizards and damned souls? She fades into the background.]
Besides, I'm not...certain, how I'd explain anything to anyone. Kind of dreading it, as a matter of fact. [She smiles, thought it's more a thin pull of the lips. The long line across her throat is going to be a bitch to justify, even with a life sentence of turtlenecks.] Guess I'll have to play it by ear.
[ That's probably what makes her different from the other blonde journalist. Actually sensitive, and doesn't have a stubborn granite skull. Daan's had little choice but to accept these things and he certainly would have preferred it if he were nothing more than a stranger caught up in a murder mystery. He never asked to be a surpisingly main guest in the thick of Prehevil, even if he doesn't know by how much -- and likely never will, much to his chagrin.
He seems exhausted the moment Camille mentions the idea of explaining anything to anyone. ]
It was already going to be difficult enough trying to acknowledge Prehevil. This place with its star-crossers and god-blessed wizards, and changing bodies or sprouting ears like it's nothing more than a prank...
I'll be lucky if they just laugh it off at best. Worst they can do is institutionalise me.
[ And actually so did Daan but uh, sadly for him, they gave him bnuuy ears so it wasn't fun for him ICly so he won't be volunteering that information. ]
Oh god. Well he embraced the cat pun curse pretty well, if his letter to me was anything to go by. If there was a guy who could take that bullshit in stride...
Kind of a shitty Monday. Getting stinkbombed out of house and home. Balded, glittered, made clumsy and obsessed with soba. Only nine of us left and not one of us guilty, can't say I blamed the kids for declaring war on the dead.
If it helps we were all full of insanity at each other so if any of you were hit, I think someone just ran out.
I distinctly recall we were all made to be forcibly attentive to Robin's feet and Cloud's arse in particular. And I was cursed as well, that Monday and the following Tuesday...
...
[ Actually he seems more annoyed the longer he has to recall that so let's not. ]
[There's a small blip of surprise that bleeds over, hearing he was cursed both Monday and Tuesday. She herself had said no to cursing him specifically, as well as a select few others. Kate and Ashlyn, Cloud, Mathis. Any crimes committed against them were done out of sight.
Not to mention she was already dead by the time Robin's feet came into play. They all suffered on that front.]
Well. I guess we agree on what our second least favourite thing here is.
[Number one being the fucking murders.]
...I will miss the people. Not much else, I don't think. Even the kinder locales were pretty inhospitable.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[Especially on a ground zero. Tunnels and machines. Secret plots. Some kind of conspiracy?
One that went horrifically wrong of course. Perhaps it was unwise to ask more. Especially tonight. She's got her curiosities and they are morbid, but she can't stand the shadow that comes over his face when she pries. If it were anything productive maybe she'd push, something that might make him reconsider his plans, or help walk him through something vital?
But it's not. Just idle wondering. Camille hums and turns that nosy inquiry about-face.]
I do think it's funny, how much our worlds are all echoes of each other. You have people like Todomatsu, Asa, and the sorcerer boys Geto and Gojo. All three from the same country, Japan, but none of them are from the same Japan as the other. Then there's you, a little step to the left, but you're still cooking with ingredients from the same fridge.
Then you have the outliers, like Gale and Astarion and Karlach, or Izutsumi. But even then, they're not so foreign they're unrecognizable. The myths and mechanics, the languages...even the clothes. You'd think they'd be much further removed, but it's still familiar. Maybe they're strange at a glance, but I don't think anyone here is alien in the way they should be.
Makes me wonder if it's a sort of reflection, just one that gets distorted the further you go. Like mirrors in a carnival funhouse.
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He listens along, having half a mind to comment 'sounds like you were expecting textbook aliens,' only to snort softly when she drops the a-name herself anyway. ]
Was the dog not enough?
[ Though granted, it does seem like humans are still kind of the norm there, ish. Arcanists are a special group. ]
Maybe they just pull from what's familiar. You don't know if an actual alien would count for the summoning ritual of a man-made god... or something. Like how they coudln't just grab forty butterflies and meet the quota with far less issue.
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Pickles is still an Earth-style dog. If he had amphibian skin and eyestalks...
[Could be stranger. After two months a talking dog is almost passé.]
There’s diminishing returns on tormenting butterflies too. Can't hear them scream. [Imagine how easy creating gods would be if you only needed a bunch of bugs. Just burn a beehive and call it a day.] Just saying, when it comes to other worlds the last thing that comes to mind is London with the letter switched.
Though maybe speculative fiction hasn't hit an extra-terrestrial fever in Europa yet. Give it another twenty years, when you're landing rockets on the moon.
[Or Kubrick is helping you fake it.]
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He just raises a brow. ]
Europa has speculative fiction. Theorising about life across horizons has always existed. But given they're still trying to navigate Vinland first before trying the great frontier...
[ He frowns, obviously uncertain about the idea of landing rockets on the moon. That's neither here nor there though. ]
Maybe your imagination just runs too wild.
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Anyway Camille chuckles, shaking her head.]
Oh no, don't go accusing me of having imagination. Any flights of fancy I have are strictly borrowed from popular culture. We're a media people. One of our biggest exports is film.
I've always steered closer to the ground. Even as a kid, I liked history and the news better than fantasy. [She smiles, looking down into her drink. Remembering her immediate alarm and awe at the pyre, waking in cultist robes.] Probably why I panicked so much off the bat, beyond the kidnapping. Embracing magic and mysticism might be easier if I'd dreamed about it, even once.
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...
Hardly the norm for anyone. Just because I'd been through something frighteningly similar hardly means that's anything usual, and that the camp hadn't been any less strange. [ Cult robes and flowers were outlandish. ] ...Anyway, you don't need to embrace any of that.
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[She shakes her head. His experience is exceptional, true, but all the sacrifices had been cherry picked for exceptionalism. Fantastic origins and terrible fates for everyone, save for her and maybe Todomatsu. She only sticks out because lightning struck twice in her family: a true crime wet dream, two female killers in one family. Drop Camille amid all these chosen ones, princesses and wizards and damned souls? She fades into the background.]
Besides, I'm not...certain, how I'd explain anything to anyone. Kind of dreading it, as a matter of fact. [She smiles, thought it's more a thin pull of the lips. The long line across her throat is going to be a bitch to justify, even with a life sentence of turtlenecks.] Guess I'll have to play it by ear.
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[ That's probably what makes her different from the other blonde journalist. Actually sensitive, and doesn't have a stubborn granite skull. Daan's had little choice but to accept these things and he certainly would have preferred it if he were nothing more than a stranger caught up in a murder mystery. He never asked to be a surpisingly main guest in the thick of Prehevil, even if he doesn't know by how much -- and likely never will, much to his chagrin.
He seems exhausted the moment Camille mentions the idea of explaining anything to anyone. ]
It was already going to be difficult enough trying to acknowledge Prehevil. This place with its star-crossers and god-blessed wizards, and changing bodies or sprouting ears like it's nothing more than a prank...
I'll be lucky if they just laugh it off at best. Worst they can do is institutionalise me.
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Sounds like we're both fucked.
[Eternal silence it is. Though—]
Who sprouted ears? I missed that one.
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[ And actually so did Daan but uh, sadly for him, they gave him bnuuy ears so it wasn't fun for him ICly so he won't be volunteering that information. ]
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Oh god. Well he embraced the cat pun curse pretty well, if his letter to me was anything to go by. If there was a guy who could take that bullshit in stride...
[hm.]
When was this?
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[ I THINK it was W5. ]
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I wasn't looking for admissions...
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Kids will be kids.
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Kind of a shitty Monday. Getting stinkbombed out of house and home. Balded, glittered, made clumsy and obsessed with soba. Only nine of us left and not one of us guilty, can't say I blamed the kids for declaring war on the dead.
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I distinctly recall we were all made to be forcibly attentive to Robin's feet and Cloud's arse in particular. And I was cursed as well, that Monday and the following Tuesday...
...
[ Actually he seems more annoyed the longer he has to recall that so let's not. ]
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Not to mention she was already dead by the time Robin's feet came into play. They all suffered on that front.]
Well. I guess we agree on what our second least favourite thing here is.
[Number one being the fucking murders.]
...I will miss the people. Not much else, I don't think. Even the kinder locales were pretty inhospitable.
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[ The prospect of world travel. Baffling and still difficult to take in despite everything, but it's what's promised to them. ]
So don't worry about that first part, at least. If you're so inclined.