CALCUTTA • JULY 2025 EVENT

[uruz]

EVENT: CALCUTTA

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I am caught, tangled in

( content warnings: body horror, surreal horror, post-apocalyptic themes )

You wake with soil under your nails, something sharp in your mouth, and the scent of damp rust in the back of your throat. The sky is not night, but it is no longer day. Around you, a city's skeleton lies tangled in ruin and overgrowth in the crisp, tail end nips of autumn— skyscrapers strangled by vine and mycelium tower around you, streets are cracked open like wounds. No sound of civilization. Only wind, soft and low like breath.

You are not where you should be, and you are not entirely who you were. Do you remember the dream you had? Perhaps barely, perhaps almost too vividly. You will likely find a mask nearby— one you find familiar. While you may not have the same urgency to wear it as you did within the dreamscape, you at the very least feel the need to carry it with you now.

Some wake in subway tunnels pulsing with bioluminescence, others in penthouse ruins swallowed by moss and red ivy. Rooftop gardens filled with brittle blossoms. Empty galleries hung with paintings that seem to shift when you’re not looking. Vessels are absolutely scattered. You can wake up anywhere that's possible within the bones of this city. Life endures here, but it is changed. In the streets, rats with slick, glowing underskin scurry between collapsed signs. Pigeons wheel overhead, blind-eyed and silent. Dogs and cats roam in feral bands, some marked by fungal growths, others with bodies too long, too many limbs, or split maws bursting with tendrils. Deer can also be found roaming the enclosure of what used to be Central Park, and will open their strange mouths when they seem to stare at you. Seem, because they no longer have eyes to do that with. From deeper shadows and thicker canopies come the zoo escapees: a moose that climb walls and have a petrifying gaze, herds of zebra stand frozen like littered statues until they hear noises, to which they will scatter like roaches. Sewer grates rattle beneath your feet, and something wet and ancient stirs in the depths— Hippos that release toxic gases when threatened lay in the waters and gnaw on anything they could get their teeth on. The most gentle of them all are the giraffes; they still attempt to nibble on the falling sunset leaves where still gathered, and will even come up to humans who offer anything green for them to eat. There's so much more left unsaid, if you're unlucky enough to come across them.

The flora is no safer. Familiar trees such as maple, ginkgo and oak still grow in parks and fracture ciment with their powerful roots. Plenty of the bark is etched with a strange set of sigils that hum when approached. Ivy pulses with low light and throbs when touched. Entire buildings are choked with fungus: spires of mushroom growths that sway despite the absence of wind, spores spilling like ash when disturbed. Moss spreads across broken windows in fractal shapes, responding to movement, to emotion with colors beyond what you could imagine. Wildflowers bloom in moonlight— roses with petal-thorns and daffodils exhale perfume that clouds your thoughts.

And still, the city seems to watch you soundlessly. Beneath your feet, the soil responds. Something old sleeps in the brickwork, the concrete, the iron bones of this place— and your presence has stirred it.

You'd better get moving. Survive.

NOTES:

• You must find shelter, water, and food. Anything that can be found in city stores is plausible, but much of the food will be expired or ransacked by the lives before yours, or animals. The Host-fauna are edible if you can stomach it, and some may talk in tongues before they die. The flora is a mixed bag, from harmless to not.
• The environment is reactive: Touch a wall and it pulses. Step into an abandoned deli and the shelves might whisper for a second.

OPTIONAL TOKEN EFFECTS

• Tokens will feel a strange resonance when near remnants of human structure, especially things tied to strong emotion (graffiti, photos, childhood toys, street art, music).
• Tokens will feel warm when close to sites where others have suffered or are remembered deeply. These sensations are disorienting but emotionally vivid, almost like deja vu.
• Tokens could experience nosebleeds or migraines near intense emotional hotspots. This is their magic wanting an outlet, but too newly formed to pour itself out.

OPTIONAL OFFERING EFFECTS

• Offerings will feel the thrum of the Murmur, like a second heartbeat in the earth, when near fungal flora or decayed nature.
• Offerings will feel oddly familiar with the world around them, as if it recognizes them and vice verse. Scents linger longer and skin responds to temperature or emotion in exaggerated ways.
• The act of hunting and consuming host fauna is euphoric, but only for a moment— followed by a haunting awareness of their own anatomy shifting from the inside in ways they should fear.

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And I wake, say your name

( content warnings: sensory distortion )

One night— it doesn't matter which, time has loosened— your mask beckons. Something is encouraging you to put it on. It sears cold when you do. A pressure behind your eyes grows sharp, then splits. Suddenly, the silence inside your skull isn't yours anymore.

The Murmur is stirring.

A psychic thread pulls taut through your mind like a bow ready to shoot. Language might fail. Images are the easiest to come first— flickers of hands, blood, feathers, fire. Then voices, soft and reverent, speaking your name in words you don't know but understand. Some speak back. Some yell. Some sing. You sense others, Tokens humming with potential, Offerings heavy with heat and pain.

You are not alone. You never were.



NOTES:

• Your gamewide "network" is live! Try to reach someone through the Murmur. Perhaps a thought, a memory, or just a name. Players are welcomed to create prompts within this log or post to the network community proper.
• Communication may come in fragments. Images repeat, words loop, emotion surges without cause or by accident. One name in particular echoes:

Espera.
You may try to reach for her, even if your chances are slim. You might end up contacting someone or something else entirely.

OPTIONAL TOKEN EFFECTS:

• Tokens may begin having their first access to inner magic. Not enough to use consciously, but enough to glitch with use, accidental or not. A friendly reminder that characters should not be able to use their magic with ease, yet. Keep in mind they should all have a realistic adjustment period.
• Tokens may have sensory overlaps: seeing sounds, hearing memories, tasting colors.
• Tokens may be energy sensitive. Areas with high ambient emotion (graveyards, burnt apartments, memorable objects) seem to strengthen their clarity but exaggerate their magic in startling bursts.

OPTIONAL OFFERING EFFECTS:

• Offerings may have their transformation accelerate when using the Murmur's network, albeit in a way that glitches in and out. A friendly reminder that characters should not be able to use their transformations with ease, yet. Keep in mind they should all have a realistic adjustment period.
• Offerings may hear less words, more songs, breathing, scent— nonverbal communication that may be overwhelming.
• Offerings may experience intense somatic reactions while using the network: twitching limbs, sudden pain, the sense of being stroked or watched.

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Wrapped and quartered

( content warnings: body horror )

As the days bleed together, the city begins to still. Where once the overgrowth pulsed with strange life, now it withers back into itself. The streets grow colder. The air bites. The mutated fauna, once noisy, prowling, goes silent. Ivy wilts, retreating from the moonlight. The mushroom towers collapse in on themselves with wet sighs. Even the buildings seem to hold their breath. Your own exhales frost in the air, hanging like ghosts. Above, the sky splits at the seams— crimson bleeding in from the edges, as if the moon itself were being peeled open at the arrival of winter.

And then: the masks begin to thrum.

It is subtle at first, a hum at the base of the spine. A low vibration felt rather than heard. But it grows, constant, inescapable— as if something is ticking down inside you. The masks react even when untouched, glowing faintly, twitching. You feel it in your chest. A second heartbeat. You're urged to put it on.

A voice, familiar and female, threads through the Murmur like static on a broken radio. Espera says:

"If you have not Tethered . . . do so. Before she bleeds in full."

Your body responds before your mind does. Magic stirs in your bloodstream— volatile and half-born. For some, flame dances along their fingertips, mirrors twitch in response to their gaze, or their pulse sings in electric rhythm. For others, bones shift beneath skin, teeth ache with growth, limbs feel wrong. Something is changing about you. Slowly. Irreversibly.

NOTES:

• Animal hosts may react reverently to tethered pairs. Lone vessels are ignored, followed, or violently met.
• Winter is here in full, but it doesn't seem natural— it is a forced shift. The city feels colder, quieter, and more hostile. Even the corrupted ecosystem seems to brace for something larger.
• Magic is awakening further. All vessels, Token and Offering alike, begin to experience supernatural phenomena more intensely. These changes are often involuntary, especially under emotional or physical duress. Powers may flicker, trigger, or distort, reflecting the vessel's inner state. They should not have control of it yet.
• The call to Tether is no longer subtle— it is urgent. Even characters who resist connection may optionally feel the biological/spiritual pressure to Tether. Those who remain untethered may begin to feel destabilized, sensitive to The Murmur, and/or experience the subtle beginnings of Succumbence.

OPTIONAL TOKEN EFFECTS

• Tokens may have unintentional magic surges in times of distress OR the awakening of "comfort zones". Small, warped spaces where reality thins into dreamscape, resembling meaningful memories (a childhood room, a stage, a battlefield). These zones offer eerie familiarity, but not safety from the weather.
• They may feel watched by something divine, but dispassionate— like being studied under a microscope.
• They may feel a need for proximity so great that the body physically aches. In worst case scenarios, you may even fall ill the longer you ignore your body's cry to dissipate your building magic. Tethering will immediately resolve this.

OPTIONAL OFFERING EFFECTS:

• An Offering's new instincts and transformations may begin to surface. Fear of fire. Yearning for music. It will all depend on what you're becoming. One thing that may be shared is a fierce protectiveness toward nearby Tokens.
• They may sense that something is weighing their souls against an invisible scale— not to punish you, but to categorize you. You have the inexplicable feeling that it is also the same thing that is shaping you.
• They may feel compelled to nest or anchor themselves near a Token's comfort zone or with a Token— circling the space like a sentinel or beast returning home. Tethering will make you whole, calm and seen.

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Missing pieces find me

( content warnings: uncanny doppelgängers, possible visions of murder, violence, self harm. )

Winter has settled into everything with soft snowfall. Into your joints. Into the breath you share with others in the dark, or by an impromptu fire with scraps. Into the way your name sounds now when someone says it soft like a secret, or a warning. You've learned to ration warmth like a dwindling supply.

You've grown used to the rhythm of this place: the creak of half-dead buildings, the hollow crunch beneath your feet, the subtle hum that coils through the threads between you and the ones you've chosen to keep close throughout the month. The ones who understand that survival isn't just about staying alive.

But lately, something else has begun to settle in. It's not loud, and certainly not obvious. A shift, like a door left open too long. And that, Dear Vessels, starts in your reflections.

You see it in the fractured edge of glass, or in water that should have frozen weeks ago. In any surface slick enough to cast back your image, you may look, and it looks back. You move, and sometimes it moves too— but not quite right. A second too late. A second too early. Sometimes not at all.

And then it smiles, or frowns, or spits.

It is just enough to be wrong. Unnerving. Just enough to slip under your skin like splinters. You tilt your head— your reflection doesn't. You blink— it watches. And then you turn away. You tell yourself it's the frost. The tension. The light. But when you glance back, it’s still watching you.

Other vessels are seeing it, too, even if they don't say it out loud. They pause at windows. They look into still water a beat too long. They touch their own faces like they're checking for something missing. Or added. Something extra.

At least your reflection isn’t hurting you. Well. Not yet.

NOTES:

• A shimmering surface of any kind could reflect two vessels at once but their reflections are fighting. There's blood between them . . .
• At night, the moon above is bright, ice blue and full, with its edges tainted by a splowly spreading crimson. Characters may notice that in reflections, it is completely red and the tendrils from within spew out. A double take will have this reflection of the moon disappearing.
• Characters (especially those who may not be able to see the reflections) may notice and hear their comrade's reflections laughing or speaking to them— they may even respond and try to carry conversation. Note that it's the reflection that's doing this sporadically, and not the real person.

OPTIONAL TOKEN EFFECTS:

• Tokens may notice their hands glowing in thier reflection, but not outside it. After a few moments, the same magic curls up their arms. Their mirrorselves are trying to access their magic for them, so best redirect anything if you want to avoid possible friendly fire.
• They may realize their reflection is always watching their Tether, even as they sleep. It tilts its head, comes crawling with a knife raised, drives it down— then it's gone.
• They may see their mirrorselves practicing violence on nearby objects, anything they could get their hands on.

OPTIONAL OFFERING EFFECTS

• Offerings may wake to burning, superficial claw marks on their sides. Their reflections will be found licking their fingers.
• They may notice their reflection becoming violent with their nearby Tethers; pulling them by the hair, biting into them, prying at their eyes, etc.
• They may see their reflections pushing into existing wounds and feeding, wherever they are.

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Theseus | Hades

[deltastrike]

I am caught, tangled in

[Theseus is almost glad to wake up alone, because it granted some time to sulk. In an unknown city on a stranger's bed, not the bed of his own Elysian chambers graced with silken sheets spun from the finest gossamer threads, Theseus lay still, staying there long after he awoke. Curled on his side, silent and unmoving. Relaxing and almost enjoying his reprieve from the horrors of the previous night that descended upon him while he slept.

Once he's grounded himself and sensations such as discomfort and hunger begin to set in as real, Theseus gets up. It will dawn on him later what and who he is missing, at which point it will hurt like delayed pain from a grave injury. But for now Theseus has set his mind on the task on hand, for survival to be his sole focus.

It's not the first time Theseus has had to cover for his basic needs. Much of his youth was spent in various do-or-die ordeals, where nothing was given freely, including any guarantee of continued living. He regrets not having his spear on hand for hunting, but is not deterred from the idea. Indeed, new instincts seem to drive him on, to seize and devour what he can in this new frontier. And even if he sat down and came at it from a more logical assessment, Theseus would still find this preferable to the nightmare, at the mercy of a mad god and the bleeding moon. At least like this, his life is in his own hands, even if he has nothing else.]

Wrapped and quartered

[Nature doesn't allow for Theseus to stay dependent on just himself. The cold rapidly becomes nonnegotiable, penetrating everything through until it becomes unremovable. At first Theseus aspires to compensate for his thin clothes by hunting for furs as well as food. But all the animals that have made it long enough to prowl the shadows of the decaying city are too mangey to make rags, let alone a hide.

It takes little nudging from the tugging force that is pulling Vessels together. Theseus has never felt self-conscious about partaking. If there are others in these ruins who have and have more, he's there to invite himself in.

Theseus is a guest who strikes an immediate impression. He's much improved to the point that it would be difficult to guess the state he had entered this reality in. Rather than be pulled down by the crumbling surroundings, he is bright, glowing. And loud, too loud, in a way that feels unallowed in this city.]

Hark! Mark this day as a momentous occasion, for today is when King Theseus came to offer his services. My talents are yours, whether you wish to ply them in war or love.

wrapped and quartered

[sorte]

[ The days now are bleeding together in a way that's unkind: there's no productiveness or newfound knowledge from himself or anyone else that's stuck here. He's been observing carefully, mostly through the Murmur as this is quite a large area to be alone with only a handful of humanoids roaming the streets, but no one seems to be getting any better from what he can tell in figuring out their flight and what they can do. Then again, that's to be expected when survival takes priority.

It's been a long time since he's been in a similar situation, and Aventurine has no interest in dwelling on this past even as he stares listlessly at the flickering embers before him. The lighter he had found upon waking up here has been well enough help in keeping the cold at bay, as there's no lack of splintered wood and dead dried flora that burns easily.

Keeping company is much preferable than this solitude, honestly, but the Stoneheart recognizes there's an unnatural need to be around others sitting inside himself, and he doesn't know why. He briefly wonders if it's some type of survival instinct as chances are greater when in numbers. Either way, he's not to the point yet that he's willing to go out of his way to ask anyone if he can hang around them.

So, in that sense, at least, his waiting seems to pay off when he hears the arrival of someone before seeing them, his eyes momentarily blinded to his darker surroundings from having stared too long into the fire. The colorful and bright disposition of the man is actually welcome for Aventurine. He can't speak for anyone else stuck here— and, oh, there are several miserable sticks in the mud wandering around, aren't there?— but he would prefer personality over somberness even if the later would arguably be the more appropriate.

A smile is present as if it was always there when he looks to Theseus. His response is amicable, seeming far more pleased with the unexpected arrival than put out. He'll gesture towards the fire before patting an area next to him where he's sitting— on an old ratty woven couch that has chunks of its weave and foam torn away, mostly likely by some creatures perhaps in their own efforts to build shelters for themselves in this hell they found themselves surviving in. It's dirty, dusty, and nothing attractive, with even some of the vegetation that crawls through this wasteland of a once-city having started to take it over. Nevertheless, it's still able to provide a soft place to sit, which is really all that matters, especially in the weariness and exhaustion they all find themselves day to day lately, the kind that seeps into their very bones. ]

Charmed. Aventurine, at your disposal. Hungry or thirsty, dear King Theseus? It's cold out there, feel free to make yourself at home.

[ His poor childhood and then his nightmare of a life trying to survive under the scraps of those that saw him as nothing more than an object have certainly prepared him well enough in finding food and water (sources that most civilized people would balk at even considering.) It's not delicious, but it's tolerable. And he's getting pretty good at preparing jerky which makes the questionable sources of the meat a lot less troubling to the taste buds.

He did find some salt, too, just today while wandering, so this jerky tastes better than it did yesterday! ]

[deltastrike]

[Such an obsequious approach is immediately successful at winning Theseus over, who doesn't raise a single questioning concern before stepping through the doorway.] I'm sent aback at the enormity of your charity, for taking me in before I have procured a mote for you to see. But I will not disrespect your generosity!

[The relatively ample store that awaits him inside comes as no surprise to Theseus, who saw the glow of firelight pouring through the cracks of the building which Aventurine made his hideout from. It was while he stared at that light from the outside that he made designs to help himself to to the hoarded warmth held within. The confirmation of the makeshift hearth rewards him on sight.

Theseus takes the offered seat without reluctance or modesty, much like how he readily accepts the kind reception Aventurine greets him with. If it were most other people, this would come off as a sign of being strongly inclined toward trust, or total lack of paranoid instinct. But given Theseus' stated background, and the simple fact of his persistent survival in this place, and with no marks of wasting or injury to boot, this amount of entitlement seems to come as natural to him.]

Aventurine? What a curious appellation. I've yet to encounter another to adopt that name from the stone. Which is not to say that I find any fault in it! It benefits to be distinct.

[Theseus closes his hand and shuts his eyes out of sympathy for his kind host. He shakes his head.] Do not trouble yourself by fetching one thing more. For the length of my stay, I mean to only have what I've earned. I am no parasite. [Nevermind that he's already enjoying the roof overhead and the fire in front of them.]

[sorte]

[ He likes talkative people— for one they're useful, of course, but two? They're very entertaining. There's also a difference between being simply talkative and being good at conversation, which Aventurine is willing to bet that Theseus has some skill in the latter, judging by his words thus far. They're colorful and overly flattering: he said he was a king, and Aventurine has no reason not to believe him, which means he's likely good at hosting the guests in his kingdom at least from a superficial standing.

He (surprisingly) pays attention to details, too, considering his words regarding Aventurine name. Although he doesn't feel the origin of his name makes for a particular worthwhile reveal or much for conversation, especially in a world where the IPC and the Ten Stonehearts don't exist, it gets Theseus some additional interest points.

For later.

For now, Aventurine is content to focus on playing kind and generous host, since, well— it's so easy to be so when the 'guest' already seems to get that this isn't truly generosity when it's to be paid for in some manner. Of course, offering things before being paid can be risky, but Aventurine is very good at placing his bets and knowing how to collect one way or another. He's not sure exactly how, either, but Theseus looks better than most that he's seen wandering around after a few days which means he's most likely at the very least good at this whole surviving. Aventurine is, too, but he also knows his kind of survival doesn't look even a fraction as good when he's doing it, so having someone else who is naturally talented in it around makes less work for Aventurine. Also, Theseus is clearly built with far more strength than Aventurine, which is a huge boon in the Stoneheart's eyes.

(And it all really does make for some nice eye candy, especially in this dump.) ]

The weather outside isn't exactly what I'd call friendly to productivity or efficiency, nevermind any demonstrations, so it' d be unfair of me not to invite you in first. Besides, you seem a man of your word, and I don't mind giving first so long as I get something good out of it in the end. Your company is a bonus, too.

Seen anything out there worth mentioning since your arrival?

I'm mad I can't work in the phrase Beware Greeks Bearing Gifts

[deltastrike]

[Theseus releases a drawn out sigh as he sinks in his seat. Since it is not very soft or pillowy, most of this is provided by Theseus lowering himself.]

Worth the effort to reiterate? I'll hazard that I shan't need to expound again that our cohort is composed of all sorts who've been spirited off from whence they originate. [Theseus could add that he recognizes a great deal of the people he's encountered from an odd dream he had, one that turned into nightmare, but Theseus is not eager to jump into acknowledging that as more relevant than a fleeting fantasy.] This ritual has severed whatever connections needed to call upon the gods or any magic one might have possessed before. We've even been divested of any familiar weapons. I believe this is true to your experience?

[It's a cheeky rhetorical question. Theseus takes some consolation that in this respect, none are better off than him. ]

But the challenges are not insurmountable. The beasts bleed and die like mortal creatures. [He rises from his slouch, like he's broken into a reserve of encouragement. He turns over to Aventurine, hitting the bottom of his fist on his flat palm. ] I believe we share this in common! A drive to overcome!

lol omg

[sorte]

[ Aventurine's smile seems to thin out momentarily, less than pleased with the situation being reiterated. He isn't exactly one who often uses his abilities as a pathstrider as it's hardly necessary when you control troops that do all the heavy lifting and firing for you, but it is certainly inconvenient to be without them when having to defend oneself from the creatures roaming this world. Nevertheless, it's not what he would consider the most pressing issue, even if they provide convenience&.dash; afterall, at least for him, none of those powers could offer him luxury here.

The small change in his expression is gone rather quickly, though, with Theseus's optimism, and Aventurine hums in approval of his words. It's not wrong, Aventurine has never been one to lay down and die, even when he was a child and utterly helpless. Nothing he faces could make him quite as helpless as he was back then, which means he's confident he can survive anything.

Shifting his own position on the couch, he leans back a little as he crosses one leg over the other, letting his gaze move from the fire to the man beside him. ]

I didn't gather much as to why we're here from anyone, so far. Have you? I assume most of us are still running blind other than the basics of our situation as you've described?

[deltastrike]

I can confirm for you that outside is just as you imagined. Every one I've encountered are lost souls, wandering adrift. Unable to take on more than than the day's needs lest they be overwhelmed. Had I not been magnanimously granted succor by you, I would still be among them. Truly, a man's power is redoubled from collaboration. Why, were it not for the counsel of others, I still would not have recognized this as Earth. [Theseus hasn't quite grasped that what separates his world from this one is time. He and Aventurine might as well be the same, equally alienated from their surroundings. ]

But I don't see why it matters. Regardless of the motivation for abducting us, the schemer of this dastardly plot will not escape justice.

[It comes to him so easily, it's surely not forced positive thinking or a polite attempt to cheer up his host, but pure confidence in either the inevitability of justice or his abilities to enforce it. The two are not so different in Theseus mind. ]

[sorte]

Oh? Are you also from Earth, then? I wonder what version of Earth this is what with so many coming from a variant.

[ An interesting point to note, if only because Theseus's appearance reminds him of Ratio's culture. It's a rather comforting familiarity for the Stoneheart who can't help but wonder how much less lonely it would be were the good doctor here. Not that he would wish this miserable set of circumstances on someone he actually likes, but still...

Regardless, though, Theseus is right. It doesn't matter where they are or why they're here as it certainly can't be for any benefit to they themselves.

It's hard not to appreciate that confidence the king has, whether it proves to be overly done or not. People often complain about those that speak loudly, but without those individuals, it would be almost impossible to gather a group of people through morale for a common cause, which is incredibly vital in situations like this. ]

I believe it'll be easier for us once we find out who or what our common enemy is. Even if it's a god of this place, they should have a weakness of some kind we can exploit. They need us for something.

[deltastrike]

You raise a pertinent observation. We are being held here, like this city is but a colossal keep. At least we can trust to be close by whenever they fancy to visit us.

[Justice and revenge are not too far apart. If they get the chance to meet, Theseus would like to leave them a piece of his mind.]

Forgive me for my momentary lapse in knowledge, but I cannot offer any theories. These machinations are the match of no god I know. Hypnos governs dreams and Moros controls the doom that meets all things, but we can be sure that this is not their work.

[sorte]

Maybe aliens, then?

[ Aventurine offers alternatively. Information is rarely free and even harder to come by. It's to be expected they are going to have to do with a lot of little scraps and half-clues unless something or someone somehow has the ability to take pity on them. ]

— well, if nothing else, we do see to have been given time for the moment. Surely the pieces can start coming together with enough searching.

wrapped and quartered

[sadpoem]

[First and foremost, Theseus startles the crap out of Sunny. Where he is a very loud man, Sunny is a very quite boy. He doesn't scream, nor even yelp - just stares at the new arrival with wide eyes. They're in the lobby of an old hotel, once grand, now crumbling.

[He's not sure what to say, nor what to do. He doesn't...particularly have anything that needs servicing at the moment. At a loss for what else to do, he merely raises his hand to offer the friendly man a small wave.]

[deltastrike]

[If asked, Theseus would say that he is quite good with children. They are easy to impress and entertain, and make for suggestible listeners. It comes as a surprise, then, when the child he's encountered seems neither impressed nor suggested. As for what he expected, although it would be unlikely for a child to offer much on their own, Theseus thought at least if given a positive impression, the boy would be convinced to take him back to his family or home, who would have better chances of being well supplied.

But instead, the boy stays in place, giving him no more direction than he had before. Theseus considers a change of tactics. ]

Nothing comes to mind? Well, the newly fledged oft benefit from guidance. Would you like to hear a story? [If he had kept his equipment Theseus would have gone for a show of strength first, but oration is next. ]

[sadpoem]

["Newly fledged"? At that, Sunny crosses his arms, unimpressed. He's like sixteen! He only looks ten...]

[deltastrike]

Did I perhaps misspeak? I offer my apologies for the error I have committed. [Theseus can't say for sure which part hadn't gone over well, but there's clearly wrong in his newly chosen direction too. He starts to mull aloud, partly out of increasingly faint hopes that he can be incited to speak up in order to correct him but also for the lack of a partner to have dialogue. ]

So you are the laconic type. This, too, I am capable of serving. [Unless the boy wants to keep to himself, because Theseus will not stop keeping him. ]

[sadpoem]

["Laconic" is a nice way of putting it. Sunny's not sure what this guy's fascination with serving is, but he can only assume it's intended as some sort of trade. For safety? Food? Information? Sunny can only offer one...

[From out of his pocket, he pulls a half-eaten protein bar from a hoard he stole from a convenience store. He rations them as best he can, but he doesn't feel the need to eat much as it is. Generously, he hands what's left of the bar to Theseus, a show of good faith. No "serving" necessary.]

He's an insensitive dickhead I'm sorry

[deltastrike]

[The good intent of the gesture goes recognized, and Theseus immediately becomes excited when he realizes it. ]

What's this? You're too kind! I swear that no favor shall go unrequited, this included. [Despite the polite hesitation he's quick to take it out of his hands.]

Surely there must be someone else with you to whom you owe these things to? Parents or a guardian? [The encouraging shift in attitude emboldens Theseus to push further and try his chances for more.]

nah we love that

[sadpoem]

[This guy is still talking about favors. Does he want Sunny to owe him something?

[At his question, the boy merely shakes his head, not looking particularly one way or another about it. It's not like his mom is around when he's snug in bed at home, either.

[As for the penthouse... Sunny feels it's better not to let any strangers in.

[It's a hotel. Surely, Theseus can have another room, warmer than it is outside. Sunny points down one of the long hallways and starts walking in that direction. He motions for Theseus to follow the leader.]

[deltastrike]

[Theseus practically jumps up and bolts when he gets Sunny to move somewhere. Though he soon has to restrain himself so he stays behind Sunny, with the difference in the length of their steps. Together, they go down the halls that'll take them deeper into the interior of the hotel.

No matter how far they get, the ceiling coverage remains patchy at best, the roof inevitably caving to gravity or the elements. But in the daytime it seems to be to their benefit, or otherwise the way might have already gotten too dark for comfort now that they've reached where the rooms are otherwise perfectly enclosed by walls. Theseus examines the dilapidated flooring and wallpaper, the out of order machines, the bleached furniture, eventually voicing his observations. The boy has never talked back, even when facing Theseus, but there's nothing else to do on the way. ]

Since my arrival everything's been of a make and design beyond my recognition. But no one could fathom being fated to an end like this.

[sadpoem]

[Without really thinking about it, Sunny turns his head upside down to glance at Theseus as they walk. He looks a little creepy like that, as if his neck might be broken - but that's surely just a trick of the dimming light. Somehow he manages a nod, then straightens up again, stopping in front of a door that's stuck halfway open.

[There's a sudden hesitation. He looks at Theseus to check first, bringing his hands up so his fingers can pick at each other. If it's dark in the hallway, it's a thousand times darker inside that room.]

wrapped and quartered

[longwillows]

[While not nearly as resplendent as Theseus, Kalmiya's chaotic figure is maintained with a confidence that hints at her own competence. She has not been untouched by this world's hardships, however; her salvaged clothes are layered over her sleek pink and white ensemble with no regard for form, only function. The rich purple velvet coat is strange and gaudy but relatively clean. The fur hat atop her helmet, meanwhile, is the ugliest garment ever made.

Plus, her weapons are clearly scavenged, not made for their current purpose. The handle of a kitchen knife peeks from one of the coat's many pockets, and in her hand is a length of steel bar that has seen both better days and a lot of blood.

She turns to him outside of an apartment building, which is large but mostly dilapidated beyond usefulness. The structure along one side of it has been preserved by the overgrowth of strange plants spilling out of the window of a seventh-floor flat, the breathing, pulsating vegetation wound so tightly into and along the building that it has stabilized a good chunk of the structure.

Given that she's stopped at the main entrance of the building, it seems this is where she's taking shelter. But she's much more interested in the bombastic entrance of this stranger than in the door before her.

While her expression is unreadable behind her darkened visor, she remains turned towards him long enough to indicate that she's looking at him. Then a delighted laugh escapes her, accompanied by a downward tilt of the head that hints at giving him the once-over.] Now, what talents in love could you possibly be offering in a situation like this?

[The flirtation in her voice is so heavy as to seem a bit disingenuous.]

[deltastrike]

[It was partly the uniquely discordant outfit that motivated Theseus to follow this person. Not only from the simple visibility of it making the act easy, but also how it suggested a sense of resourcefulness. In such harsh circumstances, the ability to scavenge and harness the most from the least around them is the minimum to survive. Assembling those meager possessions in a manner that creates a striking visage, however, is a rarer talent. To Theseus' logic, at least.

But she doesn't need to know the pragmatism that went into his thought process, or that he planned such ambitions in advance. ]

Sounds like the doubt of someone who is yet ignorant of Love's many and varied forms. Six, to be precise. Between comrades, among family, towards guests at the hearth, and those of sacrifice, passion, and the self. Aphrodite may not hear me in this forsaken land, but I carry on her gifts within my spirit. I dare say that you feel already uplifted from having some company?

[longwillows]

[Caught halfway between her joyful amusement and the sour, angry reflex of being reminded of her formerly loveless life, she settles somewhere more neutral, at first only giving an intrigued hmm in response. The hand not holding her pipe settles on her hip, her weight shifting as she more pointedly looks him over.

While his attitude was the first thing that caught her attention, his second most prominent trait to her is his physical strength—the sturdiness and health of his build. This is someone who is not only fit but accustomed to difficult survival. A hunter or warrior of some kind, most likely. Which is interesting, given that he introduced himself as King Theseus, and she's known more useless monarchs than canny ones.

Very interesting. Perhaps this is an ego worth stroking a little. He is kind of funny, and the growing listlessness of her dwelling's plants has not escaped Kalmiya's notice against the backdrop of the biting cold.] I suppose you've made your point. You did make me laugh.

[Her tone dips more matter-of-fact for a moment, but then it's right back to playful.] So, six? If you are so well-versed, in what form are you most skilled?

[deltastrike]

[Getting that admission out of her only makes Theseus more sure. He sighs at the question as if out of the struggle to choose.] Ah, picking just one feels like a disservice, for none are less distinguished than the others. But to satisfy your curiosity -

[Theseus punctuates his answer by raising a single finger skyward in time.] Agápē. Love unconditional, the love that is the same as sacrifice and duty. Out of the six, this I have the most natural affinity towards, as a King feels towards his people.

[longwillows]

[She is, at first, not inclined to disagree with the notion that all forms of love are wonderful. And then he answers sacrifice and duty, and despite herself, the former Savior of Sanctuary feels her skin crawl.

Thankfully, her visor renders her expression imperceptible, and allows her a beat to breathe through that kneejerk disgust. What she went through isn't this guy's fault. Her truest duty now is only to herself, but she is under no illusion that the same is true of most others.

She taps the pipe idly against her own calf.] Then you are truly a ruler wherever you come from? It's not just a fun moniker?

[There's disbelief in her voice, but it's exaggerated. More like she's poking fun than really doubting him.]

[deltastrike]

Ha! I do not have to resort to garbing myself with hollow titles.

[Any perceivable discomfort passes Theseus unnoticed. He's too preoccupied in going down the list of his own life story.] In life, I had a kingdom, the pinnacle of civilization in the Mediterranean. In death, I've been made the steward of the most honored of Hades' domains. No matter where I go, I am destined to lead.

[His mention of Hades incidentally touches upon another subject, and Theseus wonders: is he still dead? Shades of once living mortals became bound to the Underworld, making it impossible for them to walk atop the earth evermore. But Hades' influence has waned here, so who knows what else is applicable.]