Role-playing Page for pg 144!

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Mz.Hyde
Mz.Hyde 
@disqus_NnFUI30kih a year ago
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Guys hug me I'm scared.
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Setae • a year ago
*hugs you* Me too.
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Tairais • a year ago
(( chatterghosts CHOMP
anentirerice:
Elias almost stopped at the sight of Will batting Charricthran out of the sky, but Huxley’s sudden grip on his elbow kept his feet moving. Neither dared to react; they just kept the slow approach, kept the neutral expressions, kept on with the flamethrower held high between them.
Only a handful of feet behind Charricthran, Elias tugged the device closer to him and pulled on the trigger, hissing a ”duck!” a mere half-second before fire began to spew out.
Huxley’s ”Don’t—“ was lost in the flames spitting from the barrel and hurdling toward Will. ))
Charricthran let out a rattling, gurgling snarl as panic bled from the spaces between his fingers just as sure as blood and ichor did.
Already, things were falling apart, plans shattering under the press and weight of reality- under the press and weight of teeth as Will, who had heard the half-second hiss just as sure as Huxley, had dodged the flames just as sure as they had fallen from Lewis' contraption, just as surely as those teeth mangled skin and bone with the RRRRIIP of flesh parting under razors as they darted away.
Nothing was sure except the present, and even that was changing, evolving before his very eyes.
Charricthran pulled himself to his feet just in time to roll under Will's next strike, just in time to clumsily pull on a cloak of feathers, just in time to hobble through the skies and into trees.
The arcane always hurt more than the mundane, always tore through the illusion straight into him, himself.
Even his thoughts rasped and wheezed, spinning with the weight of bloodied claws.
Gotta... wear him out 'fore ya... try the fire. Divide an' conquer, don' get hit. Can't see crap behind him, try ta flank him.
Will, with blood dripping from fang and claw, crouched low to the ground from where he'd retreated to gather space, infuriated, wicked glee dancing in his ice-bright eyes. Charricthran could barely stifle his half-delirious laugh at the sight: surely, Hannibal had taught the man better than to play with his food?
This time, it was better that Will was so stubborn. They had time. They had the power of being underestimated, even if bits of Elias stuck to the wendigo's teeth.
Charricthran only barely stifled a string of curses when he thought to wonder how Richard would react upon Elias' return, if he returned at all.
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chatterghosts  Tairais • a year ago
(( Trigger warning for semi-graphic description of blood and injury. ))
Huxley had seen the scene unfold in his mind’s eye before it had, the dwindling chances of Elias keeping both arms disintegrating the very moment he touched the trigger. He’d tried to warn him.
Shaking his head, he scooped the flamethrower into his arms and surged toward Will, wrapping around to try and flank him.
F*ck.
—
Elias let out a blood-curdling shriek and crumpled, and his hand flew to the now-empty space of mangled fabric and flesh just beneath his bicep.
My arm, my arm, my arm is gone, my arm, my arm, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it h
The sickening crunching of bone and skin was replaying again and again, against his very best efforts; hot, pained, fat tears rolled down his face; the world around him was tilting white noise, a horrible blend of bright and dark colors, nothing and everything.
His fingers had fallen from the flamethrower’s trigger, and Huxley had long since taken it and run for Will, turning sharp to try and get behind him.
Goddamnit! I told you. I f*cking told you.
Elias, godd*mnit, get up!
Get. Up. Or. You’re. Going. To. Die.
Do you want to f*cking die, huh? Is this how it ends for you?
Come on. Don’t just lay down and give up because it hurts. You’re not a baby. You’re better than that.
Godd*mnit, don’t make me say please. 
Do it for Arty, d*mmit, please get up. For him. They killed your brother. Don’t let them get away with that.
The name made Elias flinch, and he snarled, clawing the tears off his bright-red cheeks. Still violently shaking, still crying, he forced himself to his feet, but the world hadn’t quite stopped spinning yet.
Right now, he focused all his attention into his feet - one step, and then the next, and whatever came after. He continued his lumbering, pained footfalls toward Will’s other side, the one Huxley wasn’t standing at.
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Charricthran's heart plummeted to mingle with Elias' tears in death-rich soil. He was too late to croak out a fast warning, but he tried nonetheless, cawing voice mingling with the creak and crack of bones and the whistling of air.
Will caught Elias with a single, terrible hand and hurled him into the clutches of some ancient, gnarled tree at the edge of the clearing. In doing so, he turned his back on Huxley, giving the opening they so desperately needed before matters got any worse.
Gathering his wits about him so that he could snag Will's soul from the ashes before it could flee to reform elsewhere, Charricthran called out to Huxley across the stuttering, sparking bridge of his consciousness.
Now, nownownow! I can stop the kid's bleedin' here after ya torch the f*cker, don' worry about him!
Will, prideful, stubborn, and reveling in his sense of power, bellowed a taunt at Elias as he smacked into the tree, the impact only just short of shattering his spine or ribs.
It wasn't any fun to chase prey that couldn't run, now was it?
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chatterghosts  Tairais • a year ago
Elias had no energy to cry out anymore, but his collision with the trunk of the tree sent a wheezing, gasping scream forcing its way out of his lungs. Stars and pinpricks of darkness dotted his vision. He lifted his head slowly, keeping his half-lidded eyes trained on Will.
Huxley snapped into action at Charricthran’s call, a devilish sort of grin on his face as he saw that Will was too occupied with taunting Elias to notice.
He raised the flamethrower high and pulled the trigger, sending fire spiraling toward Will’s back.
Elias, barely supporting his head to watch, smiled.
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Charricthran closed his eyes against his friend's screams, reached into the sound of agony and fear mixed with bitter triumph as it echoed through the forest, scraped against tree and sky.
His heart lurched with pain and his hands burned under the weight of Will's soul. He took it within himself; It was safer that way.
(For who, it couldn't entirely be said.)
Flesh parted with flame and scattered into ash, scattered into stars with the crunch of bone and the curdling of marrow and blood into steam. All things were over in a matter of seconds, Will's punishment and Elias' revenge carried out in the transmutation of life to ash.
Charricthran smiled with Elias. He wasn't sure if it was mimicry, mockery, or something of his own.
He decided it didn't matter.
One down, one ta go.
On heavy wings, he floated to the ground, standing near to Elias as he shed his cloak of feathers and crouched with an upturned hand.
"Can stop the bleedin', if ya want me ta. Need permission, though."
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chatterghosts  Tairais • a year ago
(( Belated but hey, one (1) smiley boy after losing an arm and getting yeeted at a tree!
))
Elias groaned and winced, trying to push himself upright with one arm - after a defeated whine or two, he sighed and took Charricthran’s hand, pulling himself into a seated position against the trunk of the tree he’d been thrown into.
He gave a drowsy nod and dropped his hand from Charricthran’s, wiping the blood on his trousers. “Please. You, uh, have my permission.”
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
(( I love one (1) man ))
As soon as Elias pulled himself up, Charricthran moved his hands to hover over the stump where his arm had once been. Between his own still-ringing ears and Will's soul struggling to break free in its newfound infancy, it was no small task to Sing skin and blood together, but he managed it.
The result was essentially the same as any proper amputation, though where there might have been scar tissue, there was only smooth flesh. It was... eerie in a way, he knew, but to make something have the proper amount of imperfection, Charricthran would have to spend far more time, energy, and focus. At the moment, he had none of those.
He sat back on his heels and tilted his head thoughtfully at Elias, then Huxley in turn.
"Likely'll need a bit ta wait for things ta reorient in ya, kid. Don' have time ta wait half an hour- Hannibal will've felt his connection with Will snap- but we've a few minutes 'fore he does the same as you."
To Huxley, he gave a small nod of... not so much reassurance as it was satisfaction and relief. Wounds aside (and that was a big aside, but...), the whole encounter went as smooth as it possibly could've. They owed a large part of that to Huxley's quick reflexes.
Wearily, he wondered how the fight with Hannibal would fare. He was, after all, the more experienced fighter of the two, and was far less likely to be goaded into taunting and snapping like Will was, had been.
He fell into quiet thought after that.
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chatterghosts  Tairais • a year ago
Huxley, who was watching from a distance, nodded in return and shot him a thumbs up with a sharp, impish little smile. “Hey, that could have gone a lot worse!”
The sentiment was echoed by Elias, who was still leaning on the tree, eyes closed: quiet gratefulness - for Charricthran, for the fact that he was still alive and in one piece at all, for the fact that Will was dead - rolled out of him in waves, a surprising contrast to the tension that hung all around them.
He didn’t rest there for more than forty-five seconds before he shifted, rolled his shoulders back, winced deeply at the pain shuddering still in his upper body, and moved to stand. Huxley started toward him to help, but Elias grunted in protest and pulled himself to his feet with the assistance a low-hanging tree limb. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”
If I live, I’m sleeping for a long-*ss time.
If you die, you’ll be doing that too.
You got me there.
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Charricthran took one final moment to breathe. Took another to secure the tumult of Will's soul struggling against inevitable promises.
The soul settled like certainty, and Charricthran drew to his full height once more, felt scale and wing and antler and claw shift into silence.
"Onward, then. To the vampire's castle we go."
Their trek through the forest was undisturbed by any sound, save for their own footprints, save for their own heartbeats. There were no birds to call the stars, no crickets or cicadas to sing the world to sleep.
There was only the gentle sound of pine needles broken underfoot, driven on by heart and drum.
The gothic castle rising out of the midst would have gotten along splendidly with the likes of Dracula and the novelization of Doctor Frankenstein. He wasn't particularly sure if the real one lived in such a castle- though given her devotion to 'mad' science, it wouldn't surpise him.
Honest-to-God gargoyles stood on damp pillars and peered down at the three of them as they approached the castle doors: thick, looming slabs of dark oak and metal bars, carved with a serpent ensignia that Charricthran knew far too well.
The Lecter coat of arms seemed to grin down at him as he nudged open one of the doors with surpising ease, considering their size. It groaned, as if regretting it's role in what was to be its master's demise.
Or perhaps his imagination was getting the better of him. Regardless, Hannibal did not greet them from the stairs or from the upper level of the great hall. A wrought-iron chandelier cast fingerlings of shadow and sickly light across maroon rugs, deep as spilled blood in the night.
The walls were inlaid with alcoves, and in those, sets of ancient armor or grotesque statues of otherworldly creatures made from bone and antler. Their eyes, too, peered as it sentinels, those deer and wolves that were not, and were perhaps never their natural counterparts. Ivy and moss draped themselves over the walls and their masonry, nature's own tapestries making their mark.
And throughout all of the eerie stillness of silence where there should have been sound (not even the fire wished to speak), there was no sign of Hannibal himself.
Charricthran was silent for several moments before he turned to Elias and Huxley.
"Ain't been on the inside o' this place before, so... whaddaya think we should do? There's a fair chance he'll come 'cross here all quick-like when he realizes Will's dead, which should be.. any mo' now. Or we's can try ta find him proper-like."
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Jekyll1886 • a year ago
((Tairais A continuation of The Tin Man Needs a Heart.))
Jekyll1886 Tairais • a day ago
Weir nodded, then stood.
"I'd best see to it, then. Just let me lock up here, and we can go to my flat for the appropriate surgical implements."
Tairais Jekyll1886 • a day ago
"You wanna lift ta the front stoop, or d'ya wanna jus' leg it proper-like?"
A faint line of tension Charricthran hadn't even known he was carrying slipped free from his shoulders. In all honesty, he was much more apprehensive about the whole ordeal than he'd let on in Millie's presence. A more familiar face would help some, at least.
Jekyll1886
"I think the walk will do me good," replied Lewis as he picked up his medium-sized doctor's bag, stepped with Charricthran out of the office, and locked the door behind them.
A brief stop at his flat later, and Weir had his larger bag of surgical tools in hand.
"Whenever you're ready," he told Charricthran.
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Tairais  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Charricthran gave a wordless nod of his own as he took Lewis' hand and walked them through The Other.
For once, it was a peaceful sort of trip, the specter of London looming like a sunken city underfoot, painted in shades of deep blues and grays. There were no howling winds, no screech of the Amuulzhaanir, nothing but footfalls in puddles of memory.
Still, it lasted for only half a minute before they were across oceans and walls and once more in the quiet of his harbor-side safehouse.
Charricthran dropped Lewis' hand and walked toward the guest bedroom, calling out to Millie as he went.
"'M back with Doctor Weir, Millie. He's gonna do the incisions an' you can do what ya need doin' elsewise when you're ready."
(( Turn order can be me, 86, Millie and change if need be? ))
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Jekyll1886  Tairais • a year ago
Lewis tilted his head.
"I was unaware I'd be doing the incisions only," he remarked, perplexed.
"Hm. I could've brought fewer implements, in that case."
((MillieGriffin ))
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Tairais  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
(( MillieGriffin ))
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MillieGriffin  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
While Charricthran was gone Millie had done nothing but sit in the waiting room and stare blankly at her hand it was only briefly after he came back with Weir that she snapped out of her daze to greet them.
"Hello Lewis... sorry to make you come all this way for a simple procedure... I just... I just need to get to the heart easily..."
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Jekyll1886  MillieGriffin • a year ago
((Tairais ))
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Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
Having avoided a potential disaster with the Red Death, Lewis took it upon himself to check on other potential threats to the Society and, by extension, those he cared for.
It was to this purpose that he decided to physically walk the halls demarcated as "anomalous", curious whether an odd tendril of energy he'd sensed in the astral plane had any counterpart in the material.
He stopped before the door in question, held his breath...and opened it.
The room inside looked perfectly normal.
Satisfied, he shut the door and made a note in his journal. Pocketing the book, he turned and began to retrace his steps toward the end of the hall--and safety.
He had only a split-second warning--the briefest sense that something was terribly wrong--before the anomaly on which he'd just turned his back flowed forth to engulf him in an invisible wave, the dimensional tsunami retreating just as suddenly as it had ushered forth.
It took Weir with it.
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Jekyll1886  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
((Helen Jekyll ))
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
With a loud clanging and clattering of pots and pans as they were jostled by the sudden movement, Lewis was sent tumbling head over heels out of a small pantry and dumped unceremoniously within a simple, dark-colored kitchen, disrupting cans of food as he went which rolled out noisily to join him on the floor.
Only a few feet away from where Weir had landed rather awkwardly stood a young, red haired girl, no older than seven, who stared at the nicely dressed man that had suddenly appeared before her with her mouth agape and eyes wide.
Her hands clutched a wet rag, and she took a half step away from the stranger... before simply vanishing from his sight.
Almost simultaneously, a woman’s voice, familiar in its displeasure, called out from an adjacent room in an ill-tempered snarl:
“HEY BRAT! I told you to clean the damned kitchen, not make a wreck of it! You’ve better pick up your mess before I get back in there, or Satan help me, I will drown you and your brother in holy water!”
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago • edited
Lewis blinked in shock at the sudden landing, which had knocked the wind right out of him. His head, neck, and shoulders lay on the kitchen floor, facing up, his back and posterior were flush against the wall, and his legs and feet hung horizontally over the rest of him--all in all, he formed a rough "C" shape.
He'd barely registered the sight of the unknown girl when she up and disappeared.
The familiarity of the voice that followed her vanishing act hit him like a brick to the head.
He forced himself to take a moment to collect his thoughts and get his bearings.
He looked straight ahead.
Ceiling.
Down.
Wall.
To the left.
Cupboard. Kitchen?
To the right.
A pantry.
Up.
Stove.
Aye--a kitchen.
...
Not the Society's kitchen. Nor mine, neither. Nor Gabriel's.
With a grunt, he curled his torso to bring his feet to the floor and fell into the yoga position known as "downward dog", his rear in the air. This done, he slowly brought his head and arms up until he was standing normally.
He straightened his green waistcoat and looked around from his new perspective.
Where the bloody Hell am I now?
Perhaps Hela will be able to tell me.
He thought back to what he could remember--the Society, checking on the anomalous zone...
...the sudden feeling of having the rug ripped right out from under him...
...and his recent crash-landing.
Did she get sucked elsewhere with me?
He attempted to home in on her soul's energy signature, wondering whether she was alright...only to have his blood run cold. Something was terribly, drastically wrong--where he should've sensed Hela, his Hela, there was...
The palest ghost of a shadow of a living soul. Not only that, there were also two rather odd little souls elsewhere--vampires or at least vampire-like, from what he could tell.
Oh, God. A sinking feeling coupled with rising panic as several possibilities--all of them unpleasant--occurred to him regarding what might have happened.
He forced himself to take a breath and find a measure of calm, then reached out with his senses.
...
I've hopped dimensions.
...
SHIT.
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
The woman, the owner of the faded and fragmented soul, called out harshly once more in ire when no response came from the kitchen.
“I DIDN’T HEAR A ‘YES MA’AM’, PIPSQUEAK, BUT I’M GONNA GIVE YOU ANOTHER TWO SECONDS TO SPEAK UP ‘CAUSE I’M FEELING GENEROUS TONIGHT!”
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
"If you're referring to the girl," said Lewis as he strode into the room adjacent to the kitchen, "she scarpered at the sight of me."
He tilted his head at what he assumed must be this dimension's Hela, taking the measure of her, noting also the dimensions and exit points of the room he'd just entered.
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
The room appeared to be the main living space of the house, though its size was by no means impressive—in five strides, one could walk the entire length, and the width was only three.
Contained within it was a somewhat smaller than usual fireplace that lay on the wall to Weir’s left, a staircase leading to the upper floor on his right, and a dinning table and chair set that was well past its better days, scratches and dents in the wood and questionable stains in the cushions.
The surrounding room wasn’t in much better condition, with similar signs of neglect evident in the gloomy green wallpaper whose design had almost completely faded and the additional stains on the near-sable wooden floorboards.
Reclined back in a chair with her feet propped up on the back of a second chair sat the Hela of whatever universe Lewis now found himself in, a wicked looking knife in one hand and a polishing cloth in the other.
She had tensed and gone quite still during that first split-second after he revealed himself, a flash of wild desperation in her charcoal colored eyes that spoke of a dangerous cornered animal.
Then, in the next instant, the tension drained from her form and she broke into a smile at the sight of the gentleman before her, both rising to greet him and tucking her weapon out of sight in one fluid motion.
“Oh, forgive me—I wasn’t aware that there was company over, or I would’ve warned the child,” She said in a pleasant voice that was almost a purr, the faintest glint of a predator stalking its prey in her gaze, “You must be terribly confused.”
Like the irises of her eyes, her hair was a dark brown color that teetered on the very edge of black, and it fell just a handful of inches past her shoulders in a slight wave.
Beyond this alternate Hela (who stood about half a foot shorter than Weir, and thus didn’t block his view) was a large, sturdy looking wooden door with several locks and bolts in place, offering no glimpse to the outside world.
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
"I believe I've pieced together what's happened, but I'm afraid I don't know the city, year, or house in which I find myself," he admitted.
"Apologies for the unanticipated intrusion, by the by," he added with a brief dip of his head.
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
She waved away his apology with a chuckle, her smile shifting to more of a satisfied grin.
“Don’t concern yourself with it, we’re used to visitors here—You’re not the first to appear out of thin air, and I very much doubt you’ll be the last.”
“Now let’s see...”
She began to tally off his three queries on one hand.
“You’re in the year 1873, within the city of London, and this house... Well, it’s just the lovely little place I call home.”
A pause as she glanced about them with an illusion of warmth before returning her gaze to Lewis.
“You’re more than welcome to stay awhile if you’d like, Mr...?”
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago • edited
"Woolf," he replied. "Ætheldred Woolf, though do feel free to simply call me 'Dred', as you've been so kind as to extend your hospitality to me, Miss or Mrs...."
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
“Hyde,” She filled in with the slightest flicker of pride, “But, so long as we’re exchanging first names, just ‘Hela’ will be fine.”
There was a pause as she tilted her head, studying him for a moment.
“Forgive me if I’m prying, but is this not your first time materializing in another’s home? You seem remarkably...calm.”
Though her gaze held only polite curiosity, there was a subtle, yet sharp edge to her tone.
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago • edited
"In truth, I once wandered through a looking-glass to another realm," he answered.
"Since then, I've taken it upon myself to investigate certain...anomalies. While I've never before had quite the landing I did in your kitchen--again, apologies for the mess--this is not the first time I've found myself far from home.
"Speaking of which, do you know of any local ways to cross realms from here, if you don't mind my asking?"
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Hela blinked at him once, twice, then chuckled low in her throat.
“Sorry, I can’t say that I do,” She answered, going on to explain, “I’m usually not the scientist type, I don’t go around learning and figuring out how things work.”
“What I do know is that people come and go quite often here, and I can only assume that when they vanish, they’ve been taken back to wherever they came from.”
“So, perhaps if you stay, whatever powers brought you to my house will send you home?” She suggested with a half shrug, turning away from him to push one of the chairs under the table.
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago • edited
"Hm, perhaps," he conceded.
He put his hand to his chin and wondered aloud, "What type are you, then, if not a scientist?"
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
A killer.
A Hyde.
For a moment, a smirk threatened to curl her lips.
“I’m nothing you would’ve heard of, ‘least not anywhere you’d go dressed as you are.”
Her words were filled with muted amusement at this quiet joke of hers, but went no further than the twinkle in her eyes.
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
"'Dressed as I am'?" he echoed, tilting his head with a look of confusion.
"Where is it you fancy I go dressed like this?" he asked with a chortle.
"And, I might have heard of your type--I have been sundry places," he asserted, seeming for all the world like a newly minted explorer-scientist eager to prove himself.
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
“Oh, the more luxurious side of town, with all its lovely buildings.”
She gestured about her.
“As you can see, I don’t exactly live in a palace... the surrounding area isn’t fairing much better.”
An amused hum rumbled in her throat.
“And though I’m sure you’ve done your fair share of travel, I’m a particularly rare breed. It takes... Well, a rather unique ingredient in a person for a,” monster “...type like me.”
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
"A unique ingredient?" he repeated, eyes widening with a look of curiosity. "Color me intrigued!" he exclaimed with a faint clap of his hands as he broke into an enthusiastic-seeming smile.
"I meet all kinds of different people in my travels--what does this 'ingredient' do? What type of person does it make you? Would you mind if I took some notes?"
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
She let out a short bark of laughter at that, the sound icy but pleased.
“Perhaps you should take a seat, and I can get us both something to drink—May as well get comfortable, if I’m to be interviewed.”
Then you’ll have the pleasure of seeing firsthand exactly what sort of person I am.
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago • edited
"True! Though, don't bother with anything for me--I had quite a large lunch before my little impromptu journey, aheh," he said as he took a seat at one end of the table. From where he sat, he could see the front door straight ahead, while the passage to the kitchen was to his right.
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
“Suit yourself.”
With a smirk, Hela ducked into the kitchen, sidestepping the mess that was no doubt the cause of all the commotion she heard earlier as she did so.
A few moments later, she emerged with a tray bearing a decanter of brandy and two glasses, setting it on the table as she took the seat beside ‘Dred’.
Almost at once, she removed the stopper from the bottle and gave herself a generous pour.
“S’not too late to change your mind,” She offered once she’d finished, holding up the empty glass.
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
He'd taken out a small, leather-bound journal and a fountain pen in Hela's brief absence.
By the time she returned, the book lay before him, opened to a blank page.
"Thanks, but I need to keep a clear head--I take better notes that way."
He uncapped the fountain pen.
"Whenever you're ready."
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Hela gave him a look that said ‘Your loss’ and shrugged, placing the spare glass back on the tray.
Then, she picked up her own and tipped her head back as she drained it in one swift motion.
“Funny, I find a little alcohol in my blood actually helps me think a bit clearer,” She chuckled and set the glass down, instantly moving to refill it, “What would you like me to start with?”
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago • edited
"Hela...Hyde..." he said to himself as he wrote down her name.
He looked up to meet her gaze, his own eager.
"You mentioned being a unique type of person," he began with an interested smile. "What type is that?
"And what's the 'ingredient' you refer to--a certain upbringing or skill set or something else entirely?"
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
“Hmm...”
She leaned back in her chair, swirling the amber liquid absentmindedly within its container.
“Before I answer that, Mr. Woolf, I think I should ask a question of my own...”
Her dark eyes flickered ever-so-briefly with hunger and the resolved impatience of a hunter.
“Are you easily frightened?”
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
"What? Ahm...no, not really--that is to say, I try to keep an open mind," he replied. "Please do feel at ease to speak freely."
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
She studied him for a long moment, then made a gruff sound in her throat, seeming unconvinced.
“Very well, if that’s what you want.”
A pause as she took a swallow of brandy.
“I am... a monster. Something unholy and demonic and close enough to the Devil to be his bride...”
“I feed off the misfortune of others, I sold my soul for a eternal life of pleasureful vice and sin, and a baby’s touch would scald my skin, for one so wicked as I could never bear such innocence.”
Hela chuckled and grinned, her eyes dancing with delight as she raised the glass to her lips again.
“Or at least, that’s what people tell me.”
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
His eyes widened and brows rose, the latter meeting in the middle to evince a look somewhere between trepidation and disbelief.
"Ahm...er...
"Al...right..."
He shook his head and jotted down what she'd said.
"So...I take it you're a bit of an outsider in your society," he ventured. "Is any of what those people told you true?
"Oh," he added, as if it were a mere afterthought, "and, ah, how tall are you, if you don't mind my asking?
"And...are there actually demons and devils in this dimension?" This last was asked with a mix of curiosity and seeming caution.
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
“Most of it, minus a detail or two,” remarked Hela casually, seeming infinitely pleased with herself, “And if you’re asking for measurements, I’ve never checked. Plenty tall enough, I suppose?”
She shrugged.
“Well, anyways, the answer to the third one should be quite obvious—what do you think you’re talking to now, a proper lady?”
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
Still shorter than my Hela, thought Weir as he wrote down 5' 7"--his best estimation. He imagined his Hela would be glad to know she was taller than one of her other-dimensional counterparts--presuming he ever got home to her.
"I, ah...mean literal demons and devils, not figurative--if I might be so bold," he replied, seeming to shrink a little in his chair. "Which details were, ahm, inaccurate, and what is the 'ingredient' you mentioned earlier?" he said, doing his best to create a slight shaking to his hand as he continued to write.
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
“Is being an inner demon literal enough?” She wondered aloud with a smirk before declaring quite cheerily, “Oh, infants don’t burn me—I’ve never had trouble grabbing them—though the rest is rather accurate, I feel. So, I suppose it was only one detail everyone had wrong.”
Her grin was coupled with another hungry glint in her distant gaze.
“How wonderful for them.”
Seeming to blink away that slip of her mask, Hela focused once more on the man before her.
“Forgive me, you wanted to hear about what made me into what I am today?”
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
He slid the book closer to himself and continued to write, the shakiness more pronounced.
"Er...yes?" he replied, his pitch raising on the last word seemingly without his intending it to.
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Hela frowned, appearing concerned as she noticed the trembling, though her eyes shone with dark emotion far less selfless.
“Dred, are you... still certain you’d like to find out what can change someone from an outstanding pillar of society to a monstrosity like myself?”
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago • edited
"I...ah...yes!" he asserted, seeming to force his hand into stillness as he straightened and looked her in the eye. "I have a...a...scientific curiosity and, ah... Do go on please," he said with a smile that seemed at once self-effacing and not a little nervous.
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Helen Jekyll  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
“Perhaps you ought to have a little drink to steel yourself before I proceed...”
Hela dipped her head towards the decanter, giving a smile in return that was tinted with bitter experience.
“This ingredient of mine has shattered minds and souls alike, both in use and in mention, something that really shouldn’t be experienced sober.”
As if to accent her point, she drained what brandy remained in her glass.
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Jekyll1886  Helen Jekyll • a year ago • edited
He looked as if he were considering it...then shook his head.
"No no," he declined the offer, "I will record things with a clear head. I owe science no less."
Resolved, he hovered the pen over the paper in preparation.
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