[closed] hey get your knives out

[prozaic]

WHO: Shalem + others
WHERE: Mostly in the Gallows, but there's something happening in Mirth too.
WHEN: Event time!
WHAT: Shalem is in jail, then he's not. Then he needs to make some money.
WARNINGS: Shalem's Shadow amplifying his bloodlust, some PTSD, lots of poetic waxing about dark things. More tba

[ a catch-all for people i've plotted with. feel free to respond to my plotting comment if you'd like a thread! ]

Comments

[damnpire]

[Who the HELL is out here writing these books?]

Lycanthropy? [Weird. But what does he truly know about lycanthropy that isn't just clinical assessment? Maybe people do find something arousing in transforming into a beast...?] I wouldn't know.

[He can at least admit his shortcomings.]

Perhaps some find it fulfilling. Your book sounds as if it may be a little bias.

[prozaic]

[when you're a person from a world with actual wolf-people forming packs somewhere in the world... well.]

I wouldn't know what lycanthropy is, either. All I know is how it involves wolf-beasts, and from this book. [and he waves it around, before closing it properly.] And the only way to see another perspective is to actually read something else, especially if the author or authors have a bias that swings the other way.

[he reaches for nightwalkers, just in case it has a passage on werewolves on it.]

But truly, I would rather stay... myself. [even if being himself sucks. but at least he know who he is.]

[damnpire]

[He frowns at the Nightwalker book again. Plenty of people on the Frontier, both human and vampire, made vampirism out to be something amazing, something worth achieving.

But of course, he doesn’t think so.]

Where I’m from, those with lycanthropy are a type of mutant. The lycanthropy came from a fallout’s radiation during a time long ago, or from the genetic tampering of the Nobles. Many of them stay in one place with other mutants. Barbarois.

They take pride in what they are, but I don’t think it’s something they consider wonderful.

[prozaic]

Ah, of course. Radiation sickness. [where has he heard that before?

of course, he's only being glib in his train of thought because here he is, a victim of some sort of radiation too, even if it's not immediately obvious.]

It does strange and always terrible things to people, but this is the first time I've ever heard anyone call their illness wonderful.

[damnpire]

[Hmm.

Look, he hasn't forgotten the last conversation by any means, but he's still somewhat curious all the same. He's heard a bit from Rosa, though that isn't like hearing it from Shalem.]

You have an understanding of radiation poisoning?

[prozaic]

I am no scientist. [he needs to say that immediately.]

But like I said, I worked with medics, once upon a time. Of course, the radiation you speak of and the one I know are entirely different things, because you don't need a Catastrophe for radiation to be available.

[damnpire]

Before any catastrophe, radiation could be found sometimes in different places. Most of it was contained, however.

[Except for accidents. Which sucked.

He is quiet for a long moment, then carefully:]

Is it the reason for your illness?

[prozaic]

[shalem's smile turns brittle, but sharp. like glass that can break any time and turn into shards that will cut.]

Yes.

In my home world, there's often no way to know if a place is safe or not until you see the source of the radiation. [is that how he got sick? maybe, maybe not. but since he didn't reveal the true circumstances of his infection to even his own doctors, he won't reveal it now.]

[damnpire]

I understand.

[As in, he gets it but also he won’t press any deeper. So Shalem doesn’t have to worry.]

It’s a difficult and dangerous thing to deal with. The mutants on the Frontier are generations of radiated evolutions from a long time ago. The Frontier is dangerous in other ways. Radiation only lingers here and there.

[prozaic]

[shalem returns to his book-- rather, finally starts it from the very beginning to absorb as much as he can from it.]

The common term for someone with my affliction is Infected, but Rosa is uninfected. [thankfully. he's glad she and the other ursine kids managed to avoid infection after all they've been through.] So I would rather not be called a mutant.

But it's a misnomer, I'm not infectious and can be touched safely.

[damnpire]

[His conceding comes with silence, but also acceptance. For him, he understands it’s clinical, a categorization.

But he is still half human. He knows there are connotations.]

It seems they haven’t given you a much better word than mutant.

[Rosa isn’t infected…? Well, now he can’t place the strange vibe he gets from her. She really is just out here with depression from the times… Worrying.]

You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.

[prozaic]

Well then, I appreciate the directness. [a flip of the page, as he tugs his tail into his lap.]

I'll be direct back to you-- I do not discuss the specifics of my condition to anyone who isn't already aware, such as those from my world, or my doctors. [then he looks away from the book for a moment, and smiles. briefly. sharply. there's no mirth in it.] It's not about not wanting to. It's simply about medical privacy.

I shan't budge from this stance, even if you were to repeat your attitude from our first meeting.

[damnpire]

[With carefulness, he watches Shalem across the way. These are understandable requests and boundaries.]

I don't mind.

[The supposed infection, or the stipulation Shalem is set in certain ways which are the most comfortable. He's glad he has Rosa here with him for familiar company, someone who understands, but he isn't glad either of them are here. But he doesn't say as much.]

I won't define you by your illness or your differences. [This he empathizes with a little more closely.] Our first meeting did not end very well. I'd like to start again, if you're willing.

[Under normal circumstances, he'd never bother with any olive branch because he never stayed in the same place for very long. But these are not normal circumstances.]

[prozaic]

Oh?

[he has the feeling that this is quite significant indeed, and shalem sets the book down onto his lap.]

If Rosa is likes you, then that means she sees something. I'm willing to give you another chance based on that. [then he raises a finger.]

I like to give chances, but I, too, have my limits. You breached them last time by trying to insert yourself in something that is none of your business. Please do not do that again.

[damnpire]

[??

Has Rosa... spoken about him? Regardless, he's still a bit bewildered to hear Rosa vouch for him in any way. He frowns gently, perplexed by something he isn't sure he wants to bother asking about right now and by the seriousness of Shalem's request.]

I won't.

[Which he thinks might be better than just saying "alright"; giving his word.]

[prozaic]

Very well.

[shalem reaches out with his right hand-- gloved, as both his hands are, and bearing multiple rings-- to shake.]

I am Shalem-- nice to meet you.

[damnpire]

[He watches the offered hand for a long moment, and then he finally steps forward to close the distance. His left hand is somewhat open, but his right hand is also gloved, and he extends it to take Shalem's. No jewelry, though; he's too minimalist of a man.

He shakes Shalem's hand with a firm grip.]

D. The pleasure is mine.

[prozaic]

[they say a firm grip is a good sign. to shalem, a firm grip just makes the rings bite into his fingers, even if he has gloves on. even if he's giving a firm grip in return because that's just how he knows it has to be.

just a squeeze, a shake, and then he lets go.]

All right then. Come, let's see if we can get our work done. [and what about the book he's been reading? shalem tucks it into his jacket. of course he intends to take it with him.

maybe even "conveniently forget" to put it back.]

[damnpire]

[The gloved hand disappears once more beneath the edge of the long, black cape. Hopefully the start-over doesn't end up in more disagreements down the road. He thinks they'll be alright.]

We should look around to see where your key leads.

[He... doesn't say anything about the book theft actually. Look! It's just a book. He is usually pretty decent about staying in his own land, trying to talk someone out to accepting death notwithstanding.]

[prozaic]

Yes, yes. [shalem will stand... but stays sitting long enough to give the skely-tons a farewell pat on each skull. he'd like to bring some of them home...! but what if they're bound here, what if they just like working here and have their own homes?

oh well.]

Where else have we found locked doors other than this one?

[in his extreme focus on the books, shalem has. well.

he's forgotten.]

[damnpire]

[Again, he watches each skeleton receive a pat. They do not hold the same kind of captivation for him they do Shalem, but he doesn’t honestly judge the other man for it.]

We should check the other rooms to see if we have missed anything.

[There isn’t another door to check until they get through the wall, but, well, they won’t notice the wall if they don’t check.]

[prozaic]

Hmm... [shalem makes one last sweep of the room, and sees nothing but themselves, the odd locked door, the little skeleton-creatures running around their feet, and the piles and piles of books.

then he pulls out the key and peers at it.]

I wonder-- would this key open something other than a door?

[damnpire]

It's possible.

[A key doesn't have to open a door necessarily.

He turns away and begins moving from this room back toward the librarian's room, though without too much hurry.]

Let's see if we find anything it fits.

[prozaic]

Ah... time to inspect every padlock we see. [he says that almost cheerfully, as if he's not saying something that will become incredibly tedious to them later on. or sooner rather than later, really.

shalem fits the ring around his forefinger, just to keep it where he's always aware of it, should anyone attempt to steal it. he doesn't think there will be an attempt at theft, but still, it pays to be careful.]

Do you remember seeing any on our way to this room?

[damnpire]

[Shalem...]

It could be you are just right in that he does not fit that sort of lock.

[Maybe they are Locke and Key adjacent and the keys do very funny and sometimes horrifying things. It's fine.

Inside the room, he pauses to give it a glance around. Nothing as changed thankfully, but that also means nothing stands out as important yet.]

It might be hidden. How good are you at finding secrets?