Into the System (Open)

[Reytac]

Evian gave a grunt as he pulled his arrow free, ripping it from the furred flesh of the thing he had just killed. He sank back onto his heels as he wiped the arrowhead clean of blood, noting absently that the blood was an odd blueish-green hue that looked distinctly unnatural. The man had originally been intending on leaving this being alone - but in the end, hadn't been given a choice.

He had first noticed it almost an hour ago, and he hadn't recognized it then. It was small, only about the size of a human child, but moved around on six limbs. But it wasn't an insect - it had fur and skin that the blue-eyed man could see. It only had one head, thankfully, but as Evian watched it go by, that head had begun to swivel around like it was on a ball pivot. He'd never seen anything that wasn't an owl move its head like that. The creature was unsettling to look at, but since he didn't know it, he was intending to leave it alone.

When he had come across the creature, Evian had actually been up in a tree, resting on a tree branch. He had developed the habit after realizing that this way, he would at least have some warning and time to react if something decided to attack him. The mystery creature was moving along the forest floor, scuttling along on its disjointed limbs, so it was a decent way away from him.

Despite that, the creature almost seemed to realize it was being observed. Its head had begun that unnatural swivel, twisting about, scanning through the wos with bulbous, ichor green eyes. As it looked around, Evian could see that it three eyes, in a line on its face, and it looked like each had two pupils, or something else that made a black pit appear in the middle of those foul orbs. His rumination about its appearance had been cut short when its head almost split in half horizontally, revealing a mouth full of far, far too many teeth and two barbed tongues that began to flick at the air almost like a snake's would.

Then the thing shrieked a sound that grated at Evian's bones. Like metal being ground against metal, the noise ripped through the peaceful forest air. Evian barely noticed the flock of birds that took to the sky when that sound went off, because the thing was charging at him. It seemed to have no concern about anything else in its way, crashing through the brush as it ran at the tree he was in. Evian was a bit dumbfounded, not having done anything at all - he hadn't even moved since he had seen the thing, just looked at it.

Then it had begun to crawl up the tree. Its legs ended in feet that had three claws extending from what looked like pus-filled boils, which it had dug into the bark of the tree to make its way towards Evian. The man had promptly fled, grabbing his gear from where it was hanging before jumping down and running. It had not stopped chasing him though, ripping itself from the tree to pursue him.

It had chased him for almost a mile through the forest, until he'd given up and started fighting it. He'd had to shoot it several times, trying to keep his distance because he didn't want to find out what those claws or teeth would do to him. It had finally died, and even with multiple bleeding wounds and that it stopped moving, Evian had not trusted it and gone near for five minutes, until he was sure it was dead.

"What in all hells are you?" Evian finally asked, staring at the unblinking eyes of the unknown beast. He grunted and grabbed one of the legs, and started plodding towards town, to see if anyone recognized the thing.

[Celandine]

She was just an ordinary young woman in an ordinary world. A normal faun, who was a person beyond the legend of her mother, who had a mind, manners and decisions to make on her own. Here she was, ready to take on the world - and succeed!

This is, at least, what she told herself. Celandine Rameses (for sake of her new adventuring she had decided to use her birth father's name as her surname, rather than 'van der Aart' which would surely just attract too much attention) strode into the tavern of the merry town of Stonevale with the determination of a stubborn mule.

So far she had been in one tavern, and it had not been to her liking - too much rough and tumble and not enough good company. Thus, she had sought out a more quiet-side-of-town type of place, rather than the back-street one. Immediately she clocked the wide bar, the good lighting, the open plan space and nodded to herself. Walking quickly over to a corner she settled down and took out her knitting.

There she was, the daughter of Philomel the hero and noble courtesan, making her own way finally in the world. As soon as she began to purl and stitch a merry guitarist began to strike up a folk tune and music soon became the life and soul of the place. Celandine nodded and smiled to herself and began to form a lovely, long scarf.

It quickly came together and she felt relaxed, away from the expectations of her inheritance and her mother's kingdom. Stonevale was a small enough town to hopefully not have too many expectations of a young faun beginning out on her own. Her scarf filled the bench that she sat on as the bard sung on, and the minutes turned into hours.

[Reytac]

Not one, not a single person recognized the strange creature that Evian had brought back to town. He ended up leaving the carcass with the small town guard, who were already poking and prodding it. When he'd left there had been talk of contacting a naturalist of some sort from one of the big cities to see if they had any better luck.

But for Evian, that was all out of his hands unless they needed to ask him questions later. For the time being, he had nought much else to do, so he began wandering the town. It wasn't often that he came into Stonevale without some clear-cut goal, and this impromptu downtime was a bit unusual for him.

As he strode along the streets he ran across a small food stall. He picked up a couple skewers of meat and vegetables and started munching on one as he kept walking. Eventually he heard the strumming and singing of a bard and angled his course in that direction. He was trash at music himself, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy music from others.

The crowd around the minstrel wasn't that large, and Evian was able to get close enough to snag a seat, relaxing in the warm sun. He wasn't the only one with a similar idea, as a young girl was nearby and knitting as she listened to the musician too. She looked fairly young, and was probably waiting on a parent to finish errands. Well, he could keep an eye out on her as he pushed thoughts of the unnatural thing far from his mind.

[Celandine]

An odd-looking, haggard and dirty stranger came and sat close by to her. He was still munching on some large chunk of meat - chopped up and placed on a long pointy stick. Personally she preferred vegetables, and roasted cheese, but that was not the way one struck up conversation usually. "By the way, I don't eat what you're eating ..."

So she continued to knit, the scarf now decent enough to be as tall as her. Her lips pursed she kept glancing to him, then to the bard, and then back to her creation, the sun streaming in from the large window beside them. They were both caught in the glint of the light, the warmth of the afternoon glory. The bard came to the end of his current tune, ending on a brilliant note. There was a pause before he nodded and stood to bow, and there was a wave of applause.

Celandine knew what to do on this occasion. Her governess had taught her well. Quickly she placed down her knitting to join in with the thunder of hands. As she did however her ball of wool slipped free. It rolled away from her before she could react, freewheeling like a tumbleweed in the wind, and unravelled itself towards the meat-chewing human. With a small gasp she got up and chased after it - but it was too late.

The rainbow wool bumped against his foot. The young woman, looking only just old and mature enough to be in amongst this crowd drew up, eyes wide and utterly appalled.

"Sorry!" She gushed. "Sorry!"

[Reytac]

Evian blinked once, jolted from reverie as someone babbled at him rapidly, apologizing for something. It took him a moment to realize it was the young girl who had been knitting earlier, and another, longer moment to figure out that she was apologizing because her skein of yarn had tapped his foot. He honestly had not even noticed, and wouldn't have if she hadn't said anything.

"Easy, easy lass, it's nothing to worry about. If all it took to upset me was some thread nudging my foot, I'd be a sore example of a man." Evian held up one hand and tried to wave it in what he thought was a placating manner. He gulped down the last of his meat and vegetable skewer, then swallowed roughly before coughing once. That last bit had been a tad too large.

He rubbed at his throat before giving the young woman a wan smile. "Right. Afternoon to you, young lady. I'm sorry your yarn's going to be a bit dirty from the floor and my boot." He looked down, and winced. Hopefully the splash of blood on his boot had dried and not transferred to her thread. Evian sat up, tucking his feet back and out of the way. There was something odd about her that he didn't place at first - but as he looked down towards the yarn to help her start rolling it up, he blinked, his eyes widening slightly.

Those legs were not humanoid. Goat legs poked out beneath a short wrap of a skirt, hooves planted on the wood of the floor. This, she, was the first non-human he could remember meeting, and for a moment, old, old prejudices tried to rise up. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the prickle of scar tissue, and shoved those age old sentiments down - he was not going to judge anyone for being a magical race. Instead he smiled up at her as he moved from his seat to start rolling the threads up.

After all he had no idea how easy, or difficult, it was for her to kneel with those kegs. He knew that some animals, like horses, had trouble getting up if they fell but he didn't know how that translated to a faun. Looking closer now he could see a couple other details - like the points of tiny horns peeking out from her cap - but no one else seemed to be paying too much attention to the girl.

"Name's Evian." He offered.

[Celandine]

His name. He was giving her his name. Now that was certainly odd. Or was it normal? Did one in polite society give their name immediately when an errant ball of wool came out of nowhere?

Quickly the faun bent on her angled legs and snatched up the rainbow skein. She gave it a quick glare before stuffing it away into the small bag at her side. One knitting needle she slid into her bonnet on her head, pinning it to her bob of hair beneath, and then she stood up again, tall and awkward, giving him a wry smile.

"Hi uh ... Evian," she scurried to wind up the last bits of wool. "Hi. Sorry again."

Were you supposed to give your name back? Well yes, but Celandine was sure her governess Gosling had also focused on the idea of someone, a third party, introducing two people to one another. Not just throwing names around. She had a loss for the expectations here and was rather confused if only for the questions coming to her that didn't quite make sense and weren't exactly coherent.

"Celandine," she answered without anymore hesitation. "I'm um ... A knitter," she grabbed for her scarf as if that answered the secrets of the universe.

[Reytac]

Evian tilted his head to one side, studying the small girl. She had seemed hesitant about something as simple as sharing her name, like she wasn't sure if she should. He reached up and scratched one cheek with a finger - did he really give off an untrustworthy air? Ah well. After his fight with the thing in the forest, he did have to admit he was just a tad unkempt. He gave her a grin and pushed on.

"Nice to meet you, miss Celandine. I'm a -" Evian paused, and frowned. What would he call his occupation? He couldn't just say 'I am an abomination made to spite magic users of a specific type' now could he? He rubbed his chin in thought for a moment. He hunted, but that was just to make a little money, not his job. Finally he shrugged and focused his eyes back on the girl with the goat legs, who was clinging onto the rainbow hued scarf she had been making.

"I'm a traveler, for lack of a better answer." It sounded nice, he thought. Traveling, seeing all the things he had never had a chance to before. So far he had been hiding and surviving, scraping by while avoiding people as much as he could. Maybe he actually should start going around, taking in what the world had to offer. Even if it did include fighting more of those ant-like abominations. He knew he could beat them, with time.

He shook his head and refocused on the girl. She was almost fidgeting, and if he had to guess she was nervous. Maybe she wasn't used to being alone? Or, considering his appearance, she was afraid of him? He held up one hand and took a step back, giving her some space. "And again I say, you don't need to apologize. It was just a bit of yarn, nothing to be concerned with." He hummed for a moment.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink, but I think you'd prefer I leave you be. Have a nice day, miss." With a rueful chuckle he gave her a bow. He wasn't attached to this tavern, so if leaving it made this girl more comfortable he didn't have a problem with that. He picked up his trash and started walking for the door, intending on detouring to a bin as he left.

[Celandine]

What a strange young man.

He had regarded her with some curiosity - she noticed the way his eyes had travelled to her legs and gone, "wait a second, that is not normal." Indeed, thanks to her mother she had a rather good tolerance for climbing, could run faster than most, could dance well and found it incredibly awkward to sit neatly on a chair. But as all furniture was relatively made universal Celandine had found ways to get around the awkwardness of not having knees like anyone else. Benches with space beneath were the key, where one could have much room to angle your body. And stools. Less need to have the arms of a chair jutting up into random, unwanted space. It depended how one sat, but it had been why Celandine had chosen the bench, so that she could easily spread and remain somewhat ladylike.

Somewhat. Her ettiquette lessons were failing her. Although to be honest most of those lessons were pertaining to situations within courts and exotic cultures. Not public houses within everyday towns. It was as if her entire family and friends expected her to be following closely in her mother's hoofsteps or something.

The young man - Evian - was heading outside. Celandine stared after him a moment then hurriedly stuffed the scarf back into her bag. He was an adventurer, he had said - reportedly Stonevale was 'one of those towns' which was full of these. Hence the many taverns and inns, and the monsters who lurked on the borders. There was a constant goblin threat, there were recognisable townsfolk. It really was 'one of those towns' which stood at the crossroads to many cities and counties and was a reststop or starting place for any would-be hero.

Yet Evian had been the first person to talk to her since she had left the fortress in the forest. At least the first one who didn't have to talk to her - innkeepers and such like. So, he was a lifeline. Or at least, a curiosity. She badly stealthed right in front of the minstrel's stage, sneaking by an open window and underneath the brightest light. As Evian walked out of the door she went over to a wooden post pillar and barely hid behind it.

And then - well there it was. A sudden memory. A dream, or a dream within a dream. It came to her, swift and quick, as the déjà vu set in and she remembered what she had seen in her dreams that previous night. A rare gift she had that meant she could see brief snatches of possible futures. And she had seen this very view -

A scene, obscured by a tall pillar. A bard, playing a dirge, just like the one being struck up. Most of the view obscured by a bright sun, so bright that she had thought this whole scene outside, which was why she hasn't thought ...

And then she remembered the odd part of the vision. The very odd part. For there had been a blank space. An emptiness, a void.

Right where Evian was standing now.

"What?" She gasped, loudly.

[Reytac]

The gasp made Evian pause, blinking against the sunlight, and he turned around, looking for the source. It took him a moment to spot the small woman, who was currently half-hidden behind one of the beams of the tavern near the entrance he was about to walk through. It was clear she had been trying to be sneaky, though why that would be he had no clue. What he also didn't understand was why she was currently gaping at him like a fish out of water.

It hadn't been just walking away, no. If that had been the case then she would have said something sooner, closer to when he started moving. And it wasn't the slow, steady beat of music in the background that was coming from the bard playing deeper in the tavern, either. No, the brown-haired - or was that brown furred? - young woman was staring at him, not at anyone else. Raising an eyebrow and feeling mildly self-conscious Evian gave himself a quick once-over. Sure, he was a bit scuffed up from running through the woods, and yes, he had a bit of drying blood on one boot and pant leg, but he didn't think that was anything to be gasping over. Just to be sure, he looked back towards where he had been sitting.

No, no pool of blood there, so he wasn't hurt on his back and unaware of it. Check done, he turned his gaze towards the young lady and cocked his head to one side. "What? I don't have any of your yarn stuck to me, do I?" It was about the only thing he could think of that would have drawn an exclamation from a relative stranger - all they knew of each other was names after all - but he hadn't seen anything like that. And her brightly colored yarn was rather distinctive.

Evian had to step to the side as someone tried to come into the tavern, as he was still standing in the doorway, blocking it. A bemused part of his mind wondered what it looked like to someone else. A man trying to walk away only to be brought to a halt by a gasp from a young woman who was fidgeting and staring at him.

There was something off about her expression, though, something that at the back of his head made him uncomfortable. She was staring at him, yes, but almost seemed to be looking through him, her eyes darting back and forth like she was trying to place a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he frowned slightly.

[Celandine]

Usually, when she Dreamcast - when the future came to her in her dreams - Celandine was very clearly able to see a scene. With furniture, and a certain view, the lighting and the features and the people. Usually they were just brief, fleeting visions, not that much interesting and they did not particularly stick in her mind unless they had some significant detail. Sometimes they did not even happen, because fate was subject to the whims of human indecision. And her visions were subject to fate. She remembered her visions only really when she was faced with the scene if they were duller, and had a deja vu feeling when she did remember.

This one, though, this scene had not been particularly important aside from the fact ... Well it hadn't actually had him in it.. Instead there had just been an empty sort of ugliness, like someone had placed a piece of midnight Inn her dream. She had dismissed it really, as something oddly magical, maybe a shadow or two but no - no this was reality. He was the darkness.

Coming up to him, her terrible stealth forgotten and her shyness abandoned, Celandine pulled out the non-pointy end of her knitting needle and promptly poked him in the tummy.

She felt resistance. She felt flesh and clothing and physicality. It was a person, a being, a solid object. She prodded him again, with a gasp now coming from her lips.

"You're weird!" She exclaimed. "You're ... Here but not here." And she grinned as she stepped back. Sure he was unclean and a bit bloody, but he had been polite and a wash would clean him mostly up. "I like weird. Please tell me how it is you didn't appear in my dreams."