| Logs |
2011 May 08
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Taps Logs |
Fear of the Dark
Pearl whispers, a tremor still in her voice as she crouches low on Dominic's saddle, "Don't neither of y'uns know where we are?" Dominic can feel her trembling against him, a small frightened soul in the dark.
Dominic shushes Pearl softly, putting a finger to her lips. "It's okay. We're just going to... play some more hide and seek," he says, sliding off his horse and gathering Pearl into his arms. He brings her down to the ground and gets low with her, making sure his large knife is in easy reach, and pulling his crossbow from the saddle. He listens intently. Chanticleer waits for a few minutes, trying to breathe as still as he can; trying to focus only on listening for anything at all that might be out there. Chevrefoil is, of course, silent and alert. Dominic's horse, however, is shifting uneasily, whuckering low in his throat as his ears swivel uncertainly back and forth.
Once they're hunkered down Pearl wriggles, fretting again as she whispers, "So... w-we're really very lost?"
Dominic winces. He tries to signal to Chanti then, and indicate his horse, hoping the fae can use some sidhe talent with animals to calm his mount. "We're not lost," he murmurs. "We just can't see where we're going... and someone is trying to make us lost."
Around them the fog is thickening until it's hard to see more than a foot or two in front of their faces. It's a strange isolation, where sound seems a little deadened; not even the calls of night birds are to be heard. Chanticleer shakes his head as he tries to soothe Dom's horse. "I imagine it would be better to wait here until the sun comes up and dissipates the fog..." The horse nuzzles restlessly against Chanticleer's hands, then stares off into the fog with pricked ears for a moment... then shifts restlessly again, tail swishing.
"But what if it's magic fog?" Dom worries via whisper.
Chanticleer frowns. [We're definitely not alone, but at least the horse isn't completely spooked.] "'Magic' fog could be anything," he says. "But if it's simple weather Tapping... well, it'll still be easier to see in the daytime."
Pearl sighs in the shelter of Dom's body, voice sounding almost regretful, "Daylight won't do you any good."
Dominic rises up a little, looking squarely at the girl. "How do you know? Did you see fog like this before?"
It's hard to see even Pearl in this fog, but something seems different about her face. She still feels stick thin in Dom's arms as she sighs again, "Oh, yes. I've seen it many times." Her voice sounds less regretful now and more just wind-like.
Chanticleer pauses as Pearl says those words, then looks slowly to her. "What will help then, Pearl?" he asks as gently as he can. "What can you tell us about this?"
Dominic's skin begins to crawl. "Pearl... please, what do you know about the fog? Is it related to what happened to all the other people in your caravan?" he says slowly.
The horse snorts quietly, his head swinging around nervously. Pearl's hand has slid around Dom's wrist. Her fingers are cold to the touch and the grip is tight, "They got off the path and the Amazons got them. I think maybe it needs a sacrifice. I think it's hungry."
Chanticleer says with a flat tone, "What is 'it.'" This suddenly got a lot less academic. Dominic looks utterly blank, but his skin is practically doing somersaults on his flesh from all the creeping. He was hoping Chanti might know more about what in a cloud of fog might be hungry, but if the sidhe doesn't know...
Pearl is clinging to Dom, her eyes almost luminous in the pea-soup fog, "The thing that makes the fog, of course." Her sighing voice is melancholy.
Dominic says, "Have you seen it? What is it hungry for? Surely if it were people, they wouldn't have been killed by Amazons..."
The child's limbs seem longer than they were and Dom realizes she feels no warmer than the fog around them, "A sacrifice. Blood and meat and fear." She shivers again and sighs like the wind, "That's what it wants." The horse snorts startledly, backing away hastily to the length of the reins Dominic holds.
Chanticleer deadpans, "Well, it's certainly working on 'fear.' I'm going to guess that some jerky isn't going to cover 'meat' and I'm not about to start taking a collection from us for 'blood.'" He starts to go through his pack. "Fire," he murmurs. "Flint, steel, kindling, and tinder. Dom, can you start clearing an area? We should probably not set the entire plains on fire...." The horse is wide-eyed and tugging lightly on the reins, but not yet panicked.
By now, Pearl is wrapped almost completely around Dominic, too-long arms and legs twining around his body and trapping his limbs. The fog is so thick that Chanti cannot see the distorted shape the girl has become or the way one long-fingered hand has wrapped over Dom's mouth. Dominic blinks, struggling as the girl is suddenly all over him, trapping and gagging him. He can't help but be afraid, with the girl suddenly an inhuman thing binding him. He struggles to call out or grab his knife from his belt... Chanticleer says, "Come on, Dom, I can't do this alone." He pauses when Dominic doesn't reply. He looks over to where Dom is and -- why is the fog thicker? No matter; they need to be closer together if the fog is thickening. "Dom? What's wrong?" He moves closer to Dominic, not yet suspecting -- since he can't see -- the girl is the creature.
The horse gives a terrified squeal, shaking his head violently and yanking back. The reins fly free and the horse takes off with a thunder of hooves into the fog. Pearl's voice is right against Dom's ear, whispering, "Don't struggle, manling. Shhh... shhhh... such lovely fear. Lovely sweet..." When Chanti calls out to Dom, she raises her voice so he can hear, "Go back to your people. Tell them blood and meat. I will drink my fear from this one until you return." One cold cheek nuzzles Dom's face.
Chanticleer blinks in shock and surprise, then narrows his eyes and quickly draws his sword. "I think not. Dinnertime's over. Now let him go or you will not live to prey on anyone else." [What the hell is she?!]
When she speaks, the voice comes from a different direction than before, "Pretty birdy. Pretty shiny birdy. I think you will not find me. You will find only what I let you find..." A glowing orb appears in front of Chanti in the fog, "It will take you to your people. Blood and meat. At least three oxen... but horses are better." The voice shifts again, coming from behind Chanti this time, "I would hurry. Humans do not live long with this much fear."
Dominic tries everything he can... but he cannot even feel the hilt of his knife. He cannot cry out, and he cannot possibly find the calm he needs to ask the earth for help. This is worse than anything he has ever faced... not the time he was captured by press gangs, not the day of the earthquake, not the night Diana and her friends came for the performance... not even the night of the storm. Because this time, his fear is not for others... there is no one in more danger than himself. Manipulated into this position by his own kindness and then ruthlessly betrayed, his mouth is bound and he must scream... and cannot.
Chanticleer whirls and snarls. "I will not leave him!" He quickly ducks down, attempting to light a torch. "You will not dare to kill him," he says as he struggles with the torch. "You need to feed. Fear and blood and meat. But the fear is not enough -- you wanted oxen or horses -- three." A sardonic tone enters his voice. "A 'pretty birdy' like myself won't give you nearly the blood and meat you need. Let him go and we will only warn others about you."
[Find me. Findmefindmefindmefindmeohghodthatmouth] Dom thinks desperately. The voice is from another quarter when it speaks again, and Dominic feels as if he is being whirled around will-he, nill-he, adding disorientation to the fear and making his heartbeat race and pound in his ears. His pulse seems louder than anything he's ever heard. He can barely even hear Pearl's voice, "You will leave him, or he will die now. Light your torch and you risk setting the plains afire." There is malicious glee in her tone now and the orb of light dances around Chanticleer's head, nearly blinding him.
Chanticleer pauses. He's enough of a tactician to know when there is no winning. [It'd be worth it to kill that thing -- but it'll kill Dom, too... and this fargling foxfire is blinding me.] He slowly sheathes his sword. "Tell me your name," he says slowly and tightly. "Or tell me a name you would go by."
The voice sighs again and Dominic feels her clammy breath against his ear, "Pearl is good enough." If Dom was in his right mind he would tell Chanti to go, but he's paralyzed by fear -- by the smugness of 'Pearl' who could very easily slowly eat him anyway the second Chanti left. [Nononononononononono!]
Chanticleer nods slowly. "Then 'Pearl' will be the name I will erase from this world if we return and find him with more than a memory of fear. Consider that carefully. If he dies or is harmed, the plains aflame will not be enough to stop me from finding you and ending you." He says louder, "Dom! I will be coming back! I won't be long!" then in a lower voice, "You'd best show me back to my caravan quickly, 'Pearl.'"
Dominic almost sobs into Pearl's grip, hearing Chanti's call. Pearl laughs in soft derision, "Quick-quick, little birdie. Go now." The orb dances away from Chanti through the fog, going just to the limit of his vision and hovering there to wait for him to move. Pearl's grip on Dominic is getting stronger, more sure. The hand that is not over his mouth is caressing his hair almost gently, touching his forehead. She seems so large now, so much bigger than when they found her hiding in the wagon. Her arms are so long and her skin so strange and clammy. It's like being held by a long-dead and utterly crazed mother as she coos to him in the fog and the fear.
Dominic feels like a child, now. He feels five years old, unconvinced when his own mother told him there were no monsters under the bed -- and this one now has crept out and intends to eat him. He can barely manage thought, can't even manage to struggle any more. He does not want to die... but more than that, he does not want to die badly.
At the caravan there is fog as well, but not nearly as thick as where Dom and Chanti are trapped by the creature; the Amazon sisters made it back some time ago with no problems. When Dominic's horse comes thundering out of the cloying mist, reins flying and with his eyes white-rimmed in fear, Pippa catches the runaway and goes looking for Suraksha, worry on her face. The caravaneers can tell this fog isn't natural; an alert guard hails Chanticleer as he approaches some time later, a large and bristling dog standing next to her. The orb of foxfire had stopped when the caravan was within sight, bobbing in the air like a tethered balloon.
Back in the fog somewhere, Pearl is shushing Dom, "No, no... relax... quiet yourself..." Her voice is dreamy and soft, hard not to listen to, "We cannot have you dying while the pretty birdy is gone." Her lips brush his temple in a parody of a mother's kiss.
Chanticleer looks for Suraksha as soon as he reaches the caravan, grim-faced and very unhappy. She's easy to find -- she's standing on her tiny little back porch, listening as the shame-faced Amazon sisters describe what happened, while Alg snuffles all over the back of Dominic's horse. The gelding is finally calming, Del soothing him as she holds the reins. The caravaneers not on guard are gathered around as well. Chanticleer goes to Suraksha and tells her concisely and quickly what happened. His voice is professional: calm and quick in reply, but tight and unhappy. Suraksha listens silently, nodding occasionally. Once Chanticleer is done, the small woman turns to the Amazons, "Your honor is not shamed, girls, and it was not simply carelessness on your part -- the supernatural caused this. However, we're going to have to work together to fix it."
Gajara reaches her trunk out to lay it comfortingly across Chanticleer's shoulders, and her voice murmurs in his head, [Don't worry, little first-friend. We'll get our other little first-friend back safely.] Chanticleer reaches up to gently touch Gajara's trunk, still tense and angry. [I know we will. But in what state?] The elephant makes an unhappy noise, and says nothing.
Suraksha is silent for a moment, thinking... then nods once. "All right. Del, prep three or four oxen -- we need to be able to get close without letting the creature know we intend to try and stop her. Alg, can you track that scent? Chanticleer, Ohkwari, anyone else: do you know what this thing is, and how to stop or kill it?"
Del nods to Sura, hands off the reins to Pippa again, and trots off. Alg is cranky and wriggly. "Smell all over."
Suraksha grins down at Alg for a moment, then says more gravely, "Can you track it, though, sweetie?"
Alg growls irritably, "Maybe. Get closer."
There is some murmuring amongst the caravaneers. It's finally Sna'tha that says, "I would have said a will-o-wisp, but they do not demand sacrifice -- they simply lead the unwary to their doom. Perhaps it is something from this land." Suraksha nods to Sna'tha, then looks inquiringly to Ohkwari, as the native of this land.
Ohkwari shakes his head slowly, "Not of the old people." It's finally Zachariah who clears his throat and says nervously, "There are stories of things that live in the fog. I heard of them from travelers through Roseville. Mostly the ones coming from The City."
Suraksha gives Zachariah a perplexed look, "San Francisco? That's my hometown, and I've never heard of anything like this. Say more?"
Zachariah clears his throat again and flushes, "They were mostly the folk that came from around the edges. They talked about a thing that came out of the fog. Like a human, but wrong." He darts his eyes guiltily at Chanticleer, "Maybe some kind of sidhe...? -to scare people to death." Chanticleer clenches his hands tightly, but says nothing at the moment.
Suraksha frowns, tapping her fingers on the porch railing as she considers. "All right, like a human but wrong. So. What slew them, Zach?" She adds thoughtfully, "Folk who came from around the edges... edges of what, please?"
Zach takes off his hat and twists it between his hands, blushing as he remembers how scared the stories had made him for weeks after, "Fire, I think. Though I guess that would be a bad idea. Maybe steel? But the people from the edges of the city, from the ruins I mean, they talked about how it was hard to see the thing, so it was hard to kill."
Suraksha goes still, thinking furiously. Her voice is soft, "But this is not the city. This is the Great Plains... ahhh." She nods once, her eyes going hard, "It was relocating, then -- moving to a new place for new food options, due to too many of its kind or too few people in its old haunts. That explains why the wagon train did something so stupid as to leave the trail -- they were either blinded or terrified." She sighs thoughtfully, running a hand through her night-dark hair, "All right. Steel, fire... salt? Think hard, please, Zachariah -- tell us everything you can remember? This may save Dominic's life. A good memory is nothing to be embarrassed about."
Zach clears his throat, still twisting his hat a little, "I don't remember them saying salt, but salt couldn't be bad. Even Uncle puts salt across his doors to ward off the evil eye. Try making a lot of light. Make it hard for the thing to hide in the fog."
Suraksha nods, glancing at some of the ever-bouncy Sokoloff kids -- they grin and wave, dashing off and calling back and forth to each other about torches and lanterns. Sura looks at Ohkwari, "Set up a hostile encampment, please, in case we can't kill it. Buddy system, plus anything else you can think of to keep light and contact between folks." She looks at Chanticleer, "Could you tell if you took a winding path or a straight one on your way back here, dear?" She's already starting to strip off her outer layer of clothing. She adds to Alg, "We'll need you to track for us, sweetie. Don't worry -- you can just follow the pony's trail, instead of the smelly thing."
Chanticleer says, "It was hard to tell, but it didn't feel straight. Probably just to cause confusion. It's pretty flat out there."
Suraksha nods calmly, "No worries. Are you willing to return with us, even though we'll be carrying fire and steel?"
Chanticleer nods resolutely. "I am more than willing, Lady. I owe this... thing a great deal. I'll wear steel if it means dealing with it."
Suraksha smiles warmly at Chanticleer, "Fire and salt will suffice for you to carry, old friend -- I'd not see you injured in rescuing Dominic, if we can help it!"
The caravaneers who are being left behind are rearranging into the guarded-camp formation and all lights are being lit against the mist, even though the fog is relatively thin where they are. The caravan is drawn into a tight and extremely well-lit circle with the animals in the middle. There are lanterns hung on every caravan, a guardian circle of torches outside the wagons, and a raised bonfire in the center. As Sura and the rest follow Chanti back to where the orb of light bobs gently in mid-air, they make rather more noise than is strictly necessary, acting perhaps a bit clumsy and unorganized -- definitely worried. Chanticleer says quietly to Suraksha, "Are we bringing any of the animals back to make it think that we are bringing its... sacrifice?"
Sura is in a light wrap -- something easy to slide out of to shift shape if necessary. Everyone has been warned to stay close, in touching contact of the people around them. The Amazons flank the group -- they'd insisted on being permitted to come along -- and one of them is unreeling a light, thin, salted rope as the group travels. The other end is tied to one of the wagons. Alg is sniffing around for the trail of the escaped pony, and Suraksha smiles up at Chanti where he sits on Chevrefoil, simply pointing as Del returns with two yokes of oxen. Before they head towards the orb she whispers to the sidhe, "More importantly: can Chevrefoil take us directly back to Dominic?"
Once the group reaches the orb it bobs over to Chanticleer. It's not quite the right color to be fire, when seen up close, but it could pass as a campfire at a distance. It flashes through the group as if checking out what and who is coming, then darts off into the thicker fog again. Suraksha watches the orb in silent interest, taking careful mental notes. Alg sniffs the air and growls, "Smell all over. Not a trail."
Suraksha crouches next to Alg, "Don't track the creature, dear. Track the pony -- the one Dominic rode out."
Alg's face is such a picture of 'Aha!' that it's hard not to laugh. He bounces on ahead, snuffling through the grass until he finds the horse's trail -- then he does a happy, capering little jig. Suraksha grins as she trots forward, keeping a hand on Alg, "Stay with us, dear; don't wander off!" She glances around to make sure everyone is close -- she grins again to see Poly's pony's nose nearly rests on her shoulder -- then nods, "All right, let's go!"
Chanticleer nods to Suraksha, "That might be best, since Chevrefoil can't track Dominic." He is keeping alert and wary; irritable but trying to hide it.
Alg huffs, "Pony go that way!" He points -- it's in almost the opposite direction of the ball of light.
Suraksha frowns thoughtfully, glancing back and forth... then she says slowly, "We trust Alg first. It's easy to fool sight and sound in fog... but scent becomes very strong in fog. So... we'll follow him." She nods resolutely once and murmurs to the goblin, "Onwards, dear."
For Dom the wait is at first interminable, and it's like a nightmare from which he cannot wake. But when Pearl takes the edge off over time, he grows less afraid and more numb. Contact with the earth helps, almost as if Mother Earth is reassuring him. But he makes no move and no sound anymore, holding onto this growing calmness like a life raft. Pearl keeps up her caressing as Dom goes still and almost unresponsive in her chilly embrace. Her voice is the sighing of the wind, "Your friends will be back soon. Do you think they value you more than their oxen? Most wouldn't."
It's an interesting question... but the fear in Dominic does not return anew at that. "They will come for me," he says dully, his answer actually giving him more strength. The fact that he was not eaten right away is also reassuring. "She will always come for me." His tongue feels thick as he adds, "I would come for her."
Back by the caravan, the ball of fire dances around Chanti, darting in a way that dazzles him a little, then to each of the other people in the caravan before going to Alg and flashing around him, zooming right at his face and then back, darting suddenly at his head before swooping off. Suraksha palms a small steel blade, and when the ball of light comes whizzing over to annoy Alg she squeaks, then waves her hand vigorously at it, "Shoo! Shoo, naughty thing!" Her voice is higher and more nervous than ordinary for her, and at one point her hand 'accidentally' whips through the ball... steel first. The ball seems to make a hissing noise, like water on a hot skillet -- then puffs into nothingness. Back with Dom, Pearl snarls and her limbs tighten around him as she jerks with irritation.
Suraksha squeaks again, jumping back startledly as the ball vanishes... then she grins unpleasantly for just an instant. A heartbeat later her voice is high again, "Oh dear! Keep tracking, Alg." Chanticleer blinks in surprise, then smiles tightly. For one of the first times he can remember, he wishes his sword were steel instead of brass -- even though that would make cleaning and sharpening it... a challenge. Sura thinks for a moment as she walks along next to the goblin... then raises her voice to call, "Doooooominic! Where aaaaaare youuuuuuu?!" If she can use her voice to help Dominic become calm... maybe he'll remember he is not without defenses of his own!
Alg snarfles a laugh and bounds off along the horse's trail. It's easier without the ball of light being distracting; darker too, of course, but Alg's nose is strong. The fog thickens to the point that the lights aren't helping to see any further out -- just making each person's little space brighter. Suraksha keeps everyone close together, still touching each other and following Alg. She keeps a hand on the goblin's shoulder as well. Chanticleer notices the fog closing in. "She's either coming," he says quietly, "or we've gotten her attention in some other way."
Suraksha grins over her shoulder at Chanticleer, and for an instant he can see the scarlet firelight flash in her eyes and on her slightly pointed canines -- then she looks pitifully anxious and says, "Oh, gosh, I hope so!" She turns back to walking, still calling out Dominic's name.
Deep within the fog, Pearl's arms loosen around Dominic and she drops him in the misty dark and damp, leaving him without her clammy embrace to give him an idea of where he is -- or even which way is up. Dominic clutches at the earth, almost cuddling up to it... he hears something in the darkness, and although he cannot make out what it is, he chooses to believe it's Sura or Chanti. Because it has to be... they're coming for him.
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