through mist doors

[dreamwithteeth]

The gardens aren't good enough, even if she feels the lushness of the slumbering plants beneath the layer of snow. There are walls around it, locking everything in. Aisling leaves the place as soon as she wakes up in it, climbing right up and over in a flash.

She finds the Edge. 

The true walls of this place aren't stone, but space, and that's only slightly more tolerable. There's nothing choking life out anywhere, either, so the initial unpleasant lurch of terror that he came back and did this. 

She's not afraid. The mist that she calls to swirl around her--those are just for her to test it, if she can connect to this place. And slipping into a form of a wolf--that's just warmer than walking through the snow in her rags. 

Anyone else who ventures out remotely near the Edge will be unable to see more than a few paces ahead, and their feet will find themselves crushing their way through a field of snowdrops. 

Aisling will be there, watching, hunting.



And she will learn what stole her from her home.

Comments

[ifyoumustblink]

Aisling probably finds the music first, before finding him.

Kubo is perched atop some kind of simple stone altar by a tower, music and origami drifting through mist-filled silence. There are trees made of paper and stray leaves alike, rabbits from holly berries and leaves and white paper, blue folded birds perched in paper branches.

He doesn't seem to notice her approach.

[dreamwithteeth]

She stops to listen, to watch, if only for a moment. She's seen paper before, touched it with her nose, but this isn't like that. (After all, it was vellum parchment, nothing like origami paper threaded with leaves.) Aisling doesn't know what it is.

Nor what that altar is for. It doesn't smell of fresh blood, and the boy doesn't reek of fear, which is a touch reassuring. Still, she remains wary, keeping in her misty shroud as she shifts forms to speak.

"And what is that worshiping?"

[ifyoumustblink]

Kubo jumps. The music stops, and silence rushes in to full the gap. There is a mighty rustle where all eyes are on her, every rabbit and bird and little skittering leaf insect.

He doesn't see much of her--mostly just the faintest green of eyes peering through the mist. He is suddenly very aware of his missing eye and little white flowers.

Worship? What does… oh. He didn't initially come here to worship, though he supposes that with the music and magic, he's giving tribute to something. Though "reminiscing" might be a better term, since he was doing that. Was.

"I think it was for multiple gods--" it would explain the lack of specific symbols, "--but I came here to reflect. Who are you?"

[dreamwithteeth]

The green eyes disappear--

--only to reappear off to Kubo's sighted side, much nearer. She is never the one to be watched, not if she doesn't want it.

Multiple. Not one of Brendan's people. Not a Crom worshipper. Perhaps a 'pagan', as Brendan once told her. She isn't going to risk touching the altar yet even so.

"I know some use music for their worship. I haven't seen many that can use it to influence the world." And somehow, suddenly, she's above him, perched on the tower's rough stone and her voice is a hundred times sharper. "What of your gods, why have they stolen me?"

Something they worship must be involved. After all, humans alone don't have the power to catch her, or even always see her.

[ifyoumustblink]

Well, now, he doesn't seem fully human either, does he? Not with magic like that. Not with flowers like those, growing straight from skin.

He barely follows her movement, falls off the altar when suddenly she's right above him good gods. There's snow everywhere, the origami creatures scatter. He scrambles back quickly and sits up. It takes him a moment or so to process what she said, so taken up in her swiftness and suddenness.

"I was stolen too! Everyone here was. No one came on their own. My gods aren't the ones here."

(i keep forgetting his freaking flowers rip)

[dreamwithteeth]

Some humans have magic of their own. They tend to call those miracles instead of what it is.

He falls, and she'd laugh at him if she wasn't so disturbed by it all. "Who did it?" And then Aisling's there, crouched in the snow beside him. He's not on the altar anymore, and it feels like just another rock. She can be near it.

What a strange-looking girl. Hair long enough to cloak her whole body, dressed in rags and the color of death but for her eyes and a tint of pink in her cheeks.

Her eyes are drawn to the flowers, though a clawing finger prods at the shamisen instead. "You're not from Ireland." And she has no idea how far the castle's reach is. "Are you a monk?"

(SO DO I TBH)

[ifyoumustblink]

god stop doing that

"We think that everything weird that happens here is the Castle itself doing it. That includes bringing people here."

Kubo twists away from her, unwilling to touch a strange spirit (yōkai? probably not) the color of death. He stands up, brushing the snow off of his robes.

"I'm from Japan. Not a monk."

[dreamwithteeth]

never

Aisling frowns tightly, veering her hand away to tap-tap-tap at the altar instead. Indeed, just a stone--one she gracefully leaps onto, peering down at him again.

"...What's a castle?"

Not a monk. Those are the ones that came the furthest were those. Unless... "Were Northmen after you?"

[ifyoumustblink]

"That," he says, pointing to the tower and the stone walls coming off of it. "It's a big building with a lot of people living in it."

The spirit certainly is something, isn't she? By the way she talks about gods and the way she approaches the altar… well, it's a bit of a refresher to see someone else as deeply rooted in gods and religion as he is. Though he guesses that's to be expected from a spirit.

"What are Northmen?"

[dreamwithteeth]

Aisling's eyes narrow to slits. "It's stone, but not stone. Alive." It doesn't feel alive. It doesn't leech life around itself, either.

"It's foolish, and I will not be staying in its walls," she spits, vanishing with a soft noise and reappearing near the Edge itself. Aisling's crouching, her hair is hanging in empty space, and she looks fearless.

"The Northmen are invaders. They spill blood and burn everything they cross for gold." Not even hunting for survival, which she could respect.

[ifyoumustblink]

Ethereal and dangerous and very very real and fearless. She's got every right to be, he thinks.

His expression falls into something distasteful. Northmen--well, Kubo never had the heart for greed. Not even with his few possessions, not even with his only home a cave. So little and though it'd have been nice, he hardly wanted much more.

Kill and burn for gold. He doesn't get it. He's got the feeling he shouldn't.

"No, there were no Northmen. The closest thing I can think of is pirates."

[dreamwithteeth]

"They've spread far across the world on their worthless hunt. Many of your kind..."

Her eyes flick to his neck flowers again. He feels human enough she doesn't consider correcting herself.

"...ran from very far away, through my forest to get away from them."

[itstheend]

Chara visits the Edge, often. In a way, it's a strange comfort to know its always there, should it's services be required. A little dare with themself, playing a game of self-control, and revisiting things that cause falling.

Fog is not unusual, here. The Castle occasionally passes through cloud, and usually when it does Chara forgoes this at Frisk's insistence. It rolls in quickly now, though, and soon they can barely see their hand in front of their face and the ground at their feet.

Fog is not unusual. But snowdrops are, here, near the rocky parts of the Edge. Chara kneels for a better look, taking one in their hand.

Movement in the corner of their eye. They snap back upright, scanning the surroundings, heart beginning to race. They can't see anything. But nobody came...?

[dreamwithteeth]

...A child. Wearing strange clothes. Clearly human, even so. What are they looking for out here?

Around them, her mist curls and curves without wind to shift it.

As ever a wolf, Aisling growls between sharp teeth, close enough to rustle Chara's hair against their neck.

[itstheend]

The curling mist reminds them of-

Snow, and the river nearby, and a silhouette with a red scarf.

The growl not only rustles the hairs, it pricks them; Chara whirls, on pure reflex withdrawing the sharpened stick looped through their belt, tip pointed at... a white wolf?

They have not had the best track record with canine things lately. Clearly monster dogs are a different breed, and they're not going to make the mistake of throwing away their stick this time without reason.

*D'you think petting would still work?

They'd rather not lose a hand finding out. They make no move to strike the wolf, staring into its eyes, but they're very clearly on guard.

[dreamwithteeth]

A stick, held in a hand that's not quite shaking. (I've heard about--creatures like you! You're a...a fairy!)

This child has eyes like her wolves.

A twofold reminder of home, of loss, of Brendan. Aisling snaps her fangs at it and disappears.

[itstheend]

It's another silhouette, making no sound on the snow, whipping around at the crack of a breaking stick.

What? That didn't happen?

The wolf is... gone. No, not gone - there's still a tense feel to the air. Chara waves the stick in the area where it was, and it doesn't appear to have gone invisible (unless it's also intangible - that's a thought they wanted to have never).

They twist their head back and forth, scanning the surroundings as much as they can with the fog, which is piss-all even with Frisk's help. "I do not appreciate being toyed with!" they shout into it.

[dreamwithteeth]

"Neither do I," echoes a snappish child's voice, everywhere and nowhere. (Up.)

"Tell me where I am, human, and tell me who dared to steal me so I can rip them apart."

[itstheend]

The more this goes on, the more tense Chara gets. Their off-hand creeps towards the knife hidden in their sweater. Not used to two-weapon fighting, but new world, new rules.

"Tell me where you are first," they retort, still twisting and looking all around. Nobody ever looks up - there's flying monsters, but they usually make themself more evident to Chara. And in any case, they're expecting a wolf with a child's voice. Wolves don't fly.

"If you can rip apart an entire Castle I will be very impressed."

Not the population of a castle. A castle.

[dreamwithteeth]

Aisling doesn't even know what a castle is. "I will," she says imperiously. "I don't belong here."

Chara wants to know where she is? She's right there. At least first her hair is, swinging down to strike them in the face as she leaps down to stand in front of them.

[itstheend]

"I think you'll find it difficult to find anyone who d-"

And then they get smacked in the face with hair and their response is purely automatic - they swipe at it with the knife, lowering their centre of gravity.

What is this? Shapeshifter? The only monster they know can do that to a degree is not one they like - there's a little of an automati bias in play.

did not realize how long i left this hanging fuk

[dreamwithteeth]

The knife and green eyes glint--Aisling leaps back into the mist, disappearing with an animal snarl. She gave them what they wanted--to see her--and this is how she's repaid?

No.

Silence falls again.

The fog only grows deeper.

o7 no worries I will backtag forever

[itstheend]

She disappears, and silence falls, and Chara does not relax, knife still held out, heart still hammering in their chest. They twist their head back and forth, trying to listen for any sort of sound that might pinpoint where she is in this fog - nothing.

This is not something that comforts.

With the knife still bared like a fang, they start moving forward, testing their footing at each step because they refuse to look down and make themself vulnerable. If they can just find the Castle... they doubt there's fog inside there.

They'll have more of an advantage, at the least.