[OPEN] sorry for being a dark sorcerer. as if it's my fault

[techmaturgy]

WHO: viktor and YOU
WHEN: some nebulous time during/after the village hunts
WHERE: ke-waihu and out and about
WHAT: hi I have just rolled in from the woods with the werewolf delegation and what is this
WARNINGS: possible reference to terminal illness, will add more if they come up

i. from ke-waiar with love

[At some point, after the hunts begin, a delegation arrives from Ke-Waiar. They have a new arrival with them, apparently as part of the negotiations with the Beastmaster. He looks, uh

not great.

Pale and gaunt and terrible posture with wild, uncombed hair—almost like he staggered out of the forest outside of Ke-Waiar just days ago (he did). Probably it’s because he’s had a weird few days, right? Wandering out of the woods. Lack of sleep. Disoriented, trying to make sense of where he is and how he got here. That must be it. No other reason.

It isn’t long before he’s recognized as someone not from here, and that’s about when Taksui slides in. Maybe you happen upon this guy arguing with Taksui about changing hands, or a vague lack of technology, or access to his work, or something, all in an accent that is extremely out of place. Then there’s arguing with what seems to be a young villager, who insists that she’s been assigned to assist him while he’s here—and he insists, in turn, that he doesn’t need any help.

Actually, it seems like this guy is doing a lot of arguing, and is very animated about it for someone who looks so thoroughly exhausted, apparently not at all concerned with attracting attention or any potential faux pas. Also, sometimes he coughs a lot. He’s not having a great day, or series of days, and it seems he wants to let everybody know it.]

ii. out and about

[Except, this would be a terrible open log if Viktor was just fighting with everyone for the whole thing, so.

He gets his bearings. Viktor has always been industrious, and given the alternative, he’d rather be busy than not, so he sets about exploring Ke-Waihu. Though he avoids going too far into the forest, he can be found on the outskirts, most notably at various Witches’ huts, engaging the purveyors with interest (and possibly arguing with them as well, generally about esoteric nerd stuff, oops). He will absolutely stop and ask for directions if he feels like he needs it, or maybe where he can get his hands on some of that dark water stuff (yikes). Thanks in advance!

Barring that, he seems to take interest in the small temples, though apparently not out of any religious conviction. He is—he is going to touch that offering, or otherwise move it out of place. Tell him not to do that (or don’t, I’m not your mom), he’s definitely cursed enough.]

iii. house #6

[It’s not until he gets to his designated housing that he finally allows himself to let the implications of his displacement sink in—still alive, for now. Just misplaced. Somehow.

Viktor finds it almost too much to take in, and it's not until he's alone that he allows himself to fully process what all this is supposed to mean. He needs to recuperate from the whirlwind events of the last few days, but he doesn't have time, so instead of attempting to clear his head after being shuffled from one town to another, he gives in to his frustration. There's a chair near the door that he jostles violently with his free hand on the way in, and he all but throws down the crutch they've given him before sinking down onto the nearest (un-overturned) chair with some effort, scrubbing a hand through his hair and letting out a long, shaky breath.

That's about when he realizes he isn't alone (it's you, you're here, walking into this, congratulations).]

Sorry. [He seems to have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the temporary outburst, but at the same time there's too much exhaustion behind the apology for it to seem fully sincere. Viktor knows, vaguely, that he’s meant to be sharing this house with others.] I didn't realize anyone else was here.

[Just, you know, forgive him for having a Moment. Also he’s your new roommate. Hello!]

iv. the network option

[In other circumstances, such a device would be entirely fascinating to him. Voice transmission. Real-time image transmission, like nothing he’s ever seen before. He wishes he were in a better position to really appreciate it. Part of him almost wants to dismantle it and see if he can put it back together. There are, however, better uses for his time, which is what has him addressing the network.

No fanfare. Just the following message:]

The villagers of Ke-Waiar informed me that I was found wandering the forest while in an altered mind state. I do not remember any of this, but my physical state upon “awakening” corroborates the story.

My understanding is that this is a communication channel for the similarly displaced. Although I am under no illusions that the information I'm requesting will solve any real mysteries, please detail the following if you're able to do so:

1. The circumstances of your arrival, including any involvement/assistance from those native to this world
2. Whether or not you were lucid upon arrival, and, if not, at what point you regained your faculties

Any input is appreciated.

V

v. wildcard??

[hey I’m BRAND NEW and down for anything. Happy to write bespoke starters, or feel free to toss me a wildcard of your own. Hit me up on plurk at whitticus OR on discord at whitticus#8139!]

Comments

[soloritur]

Marcos waves off his apology. There's nobody around here who could blame him. He takes a glance around the room and notes the closed doors, but he hasn't really seen anyone come out in the last hour. He reasons that they probably would have poked their head out to see what the racket was if they were here.

"At the moment. There's a few others who come and go." And the visitors that come by pretty frequently. Since he's seen what they deal with at a few of the other houses, he counts them as lucky. At least they don't have a curfew. "You just moved in, right? ...Sorry you have to deal with all this. I know it's a lot."

The guy looks like he's had a rough time, so Marcos can only guess. He glances at the crutch again briefly, then nods to their kitchen area. "You want a drink?"

[techmaturgy]

Well, everyone's been fairly understanding, at least, though Viktor seems a little unsure of how to act in response, like he's not used to being afforded this kind of leeway. It's something of a relief that no one else seems to be in the house, mostly because he isn't sure he can process more than one introduction at this juncture.

"I spent a few days in Ke-Waiar. I've only recently arrived here."

And, perhaps, he should be thankful for housing, at the very least, but Viktor hasn't exactly stopped being angry about the situation. It's clear he isn't accustomed to this kind of hospitality, but he swallows hard and nods.

"Water. Please."

Probably not the kind of drink he was being offered, but, really, the only thing he can think to ask for.

[soloritur]

It was an open ended question, but Marcos wouldn't have given him flack for anything he'd asked to drink. He kind of gets a sense that he's embarrassed about his outburst and wouldn't want to follow it up by asking for a glass of whiskey. They don't have any whiskey anyway, so at least he doesn't have to be disappointed.

"Sure thing," Marcos smiles and goes to the kitchen, fumbling around for longer than he really needs to just to give him some time to collect himself. He eventually returns with a cup of water held out for him to take. Looking at the shape he's in, it's up in the air if he's in the mood to talk, but he makes an offer just in case it's the kind of trauma that needs sharing.

"So. How's Ke-Waiar this time of year?"

[techmaturgy]

The sheer business of his arrival hasn't really given him a chance to truly processes what's happened, or what his next steps should be, and sitting down in a house--being offered a drink, and space to breathe--is almost overwhelming in itself. He appreciates the extra few seconds that Marcus affords him, and is slightly more composed by the time he returns, at least enough to carry on a conversation.

"Full of wolves, incidentally."

He takes the glass and drinks deeply from it, apparently not aware of how thirsty he was before it was presented to him.

"A curse, I'm told."

[soloritur]

When he doesn't immediately tell him to buzz off, Marcos eases into a seat in a chair a comfortable distance away. The dark bands around his joints are still slowing him down; sitting generally helps. He watches him drink, careful not to stare or look too concerned, but when he mentions a curse he barks out a laugh.

"Yeah?" He rubs at his wrist and shakes his head. It's been months for him now, but the absurdity of this world still gets to him. "Last time it was foxes. There wasn't a wedding involved, was there?"

[techmaturgy]

“If there was, I must have missed it.”

His humor is dry, but there nonetheless, perhaps an indication that his outburst is over and he’s slowly allowing himself to be a little more personable. Curses and spirits and so much of this place is entirely new to him, and it’s tempting to launch into a whole new line of inquiry, but he decides to take all this one thing at a time. The water is helping.

“I suppose one might call it…lycanthropy.” Myths, or so he thought, but he’d been pulled out of the woods to avoid the very real danger of the villagers going literally feral at night. “They aren’t sure of the cause.”

[soloritur]

"Lycanthropy?" It takes him a minute. He hasn't done a lot of studying on wolves and wolf-related issues. He mostly infers what he means because of what they saw with the fox brides. "Like werewolves? ...That's funny, you'd think more people would be talking about that."

He's a little too accepting of the fact. After a while, he became more detached to all of the curses floating around. Even the villagers barely seem to bat an eye at them unless their lives are being threatened. Unless it involves sacrifices, then they're all for it.

"At least they're trying. Most of the villagers around here would just call that tradition." He glances towards the crutch again, remembering his own arrival when he decides to ask. "How'd they treat you?"

[techmaturgy]

“They turn into wolves at night. Some of them. Spontaneously.”

It sounds ridiculous to say it out loud, but he can’t deny what he’s seen. He probably would have been mauled by one of them, wandering the woods as he was, if not for the villagers collecting him. He supposes he has to appreciate that. Marcos’ glance at his crutch doesn’t go unnoticed—he supposes this is a fair question to ask.

“Surprisingly well. They have compassion for those afflicted, and pulled me in from the forest. I think they would’ve liked to keep me, if not for Taksui’s intervention upon our arrival here.”

He still doesn’t quite know how to feel about it. To his knowledge, he’s been cursed, too.

[soloritur]

It's genuinely good to hear not everyone that comes here is immediately drugged and taken prisoner, and Marcos tries not to look completely surprised by the fact that there are perfectly decent people looking out for them. He's always been aware that they're out there, it's just practically unheard of that they're the first ones you run into.

There's something else too. The way he talks about those afflicted that's more understanding than most probably would be.

"You weren't afraid of them either, were you?" He sounds curious. Marcos hasn't run across other mutants here, at least those that would fit the classic definition, but people usually freak out around those who are unable to control their powers like that. It's refreshing to find someone with an open mind.

"Maybe that's why."

[techmaturgy]

"Afraid?" He shakes his head, though it's clear he has to think about it for a moment. "No, I think I was too busy trying to get my bearings."

Arriving here with no idea of how this happened. Concerned about being separated from his work, and trying to figure out a way forward. There's too much on his mind to be frightened by werewolves--he simply had to accept the curse alongside everything else about this strange world.

"They are making the best of a bad situation. I suppose I can...appreciate that."

[soloritur]

He'd be surprised how rare it is to find someone that accepting of people who turn into wolves. It reminds him of how lucky he's been with his roommates, if nothing else has gone particularly well since they arrived.

"That could go for a lot of people around here." Especially here. Everything is cursed and people are still going about their lives, accepting it as a normal part of the village. It'd be admirable if it weren't for the human sacrifices and trafficking and general crimes that they've had little success in curtailing.

Not that he'll mention that right now. Marcos doesn't want to bother him for too long if he needs his space, but the crutch is still in his periphery and he's not sure if he's the type who would actually ask for help unless it's offered.

"If there's anything you need, or if you have questions... I might not have the answers, but I've been around for a while. You don't have to figure it out on your own."

[techmaturgy]

Perhaps, if Viktor weren’t so concerned with his own situation, he might be a little more alarmed. As it stands, there are too many other things to worry about than the werewolf situation, which seems to be handled about as best as it can be, for now. He wants to find a solution for them, in exchange for their kindness, but he’s an expert in science, not curses. All of this is taking him some time to process.

The glass of water is helping, at least a little. He swallows. Regulates his breathing.

“Thank you for the hospitality.” It sounds silly to say, given the fact that he’s supposed to be living here, but it feels right, in the moment. “I’ll let you know if I have any additional questions.”

[soloritur]

Marcos watches him for a while, faint concern briefly knotting his eyebrows, but decides that he probably needs time to adjust and come to terms with where he's ended up. He seems to have calmed down, but whatever got him to throw that chair has to still be on his mind. Depending on what he left behind when he came here, he shares the frustration.

"Good." This isn't the time to barrage him with personal questions, and he's sure it'll come up while he's living under the same roof. He takes in a breath and lifts himself up from the chair, stiffly but without complaint, and gestures behind him. "It's a shared space, so help yourself to anything we have. My room is at the end of the hall. Just... remember to knock."

Lorna tends to pop in unannounced.

He nearly asks if he wants him to refill his water, but he doesn't want to be insulting just because he has a crutch. Hopefully he'll feel comfortable enough to relax once he's had time to breathe, as much as he's able to in a cursed village.

He'll keep an ear out if it seems to be getting to him again, but for now he'll let him have his space.