Cold Division

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chatterghosts
chatterghosts 
@chatterghosts a year ago
Artemis’ possessions had been split among his family after his death. There was no will to be had due to the unexpected nature of his passing, but there was no dispute as to where the bulk of his things would turn up: his documents and a majority of his possessions remained where they had been left in Elias’ room, and his clothes had been turned over to Nicolette. Even his bed saw use again, after a few months. After Nicolette had swept through some time before to claim the sheets and blankets the mattress went virtually untouched, but there had been one evening Elias had rested a tray of food on the foot of the bed. After that, he’d placed a small stack of books there in passing, and from then on, the bed became another storage space.
Indulging in Arty's old belongings was just one of Elias' numerous heartache-inducing vices, though he always came to justify it ("If I don't read these documents, no one will ever again," he'd explained to Nicolette once). He didn't seem to mind betraying his dead brother's privacy. After all, he reasoned, it wasn't as if Arty could complain about it.
Elias had been sifting through old letters on the edge of Artemis’ bed again when the door pushed open. His focus rose to the door on instinct, the speedy-straightened posture sending painful sensations through his still-healing ribs. “Ah. Huxley." A beat. "Pardon, don’t you know how to knock?”
“I guess I never learned that in primary school,” Huxley said with a shrug, pushing the door closed with his heel as his eyes roamed over the papers on Elias’ lap. “What are those?”
“Arty’s old writings,” he returned quietly, hands nervously shuffling the papers aside. Huxley gave an acknowledging, curious hum, but said nothing else.
Curiosity twisted Elias' expression as a quiet suddenly settled between them. He lifted his gaze to Huxley, perched awkwardly on the arm of a chair between the two mattresses. Sensing the dawning conversation, he set the papers behind him. “What is it?”
“Your brother,” Huxley stated, “he’s dead.”
The curious look on Elias' face shriveled into anger. “As he has been for months, I-- did you only come to be rude?”
Huxley’s hands had tensed somewhat at that, he noted inwardly.
“No. No, of course not.”
Silence reigned again.
Elias’ lip curled, glare worsening. “Alright, then what is it?”
“You’re aware he and I had business.”
“Yes.”
“And... he’s dead.”
A second, more slow, “Yes.”
There was a curt pause in the conversation, a silence that allowed unease to settle like dust.
“You know,” Huxley finally said, “that now that he’s dead, I’m obligated to tell you that I’m allowed to undo the...effects that our deal had on you.”
“The effects on me?” Elias said, brows lifting. “What did he do?”
“I can’t say that,” he said, eyes sliding guiltily elsewhere. “You have to give me permission to tell you, but the Rules say that I can’t interfere with anything that happens after I do."
"Then tell me."
Huxley stared at him uncertainly. "Elias, demon magic is... ridiculously unpleasant, and very often fickle. It can manifest so many different ways, e-- even I can’t predict what’ll happen when I undo it, if I undo it. You could... you could drop into a coma, or- or worse, and I wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing. Your mind may revolt at all the new information.” He turned his gaze to Elias slowly, an element of sincere apology glittering in the golden shine of his irises. “But, it all depends on you. Do you want to know?”
Elias’ face curled in hot, angry disbelief. “So I can learn about these secrets Arty had, but I risk...what, something horrible happening to me? And I need to give my permission so that you—“ he prodded an angry finger toward Huxley, “can’t be held accountable?”
“I’m aware it’s awful, but it’s not something I can help.” A guilty shadow fell on Huxley’s face. “Not...yet, anyway. Mind, I have to offer your siblings all the same thing. And they don’t know who I am. If you think you’re better off not knowing like the way the way the rest of them might, just say so.”
Frustration cut through Elias’ expression. “No, of course I want to know! I just— you know odds and outcomes, don’t you? Do you think it’s worth it?”
There was another brief silence as the situation was assessed. "I... don't know. I'm sure of nothing,” Huxley said finally, frankly.
“Wh- well, what good does that do me?" Elias paused, breathing deeply for a moment, his scowl softening just so. In his typical nature, he spent no time debating such a decision, adding after a matter of seconds, “Yes, I'm sure I want to know."
"You're absolutely certain?"
"Yes."
"Elias, are you sure you're acknowledging the repercussions-"
"Yes, damn it."
Huxley tilted his head for a moment, then held out a hand. “Say you give me permission. And then let me see your face.”
“My... face?”
The answering, expectant silence caused him to frown again. "I...give you permission."
“Then lean in and show me your face,” Huxley instructed slowly as he lifted his hands.
Elias’ eyes followed the movement — his palms were turned toward Elias, pulsing with effervescent, silver-gray light, hovering just before Elias' cheeks. The bright light made him cringe.
Here goes... something. Elias pushed his face into Huxley's hands.
(He felt, saw, and heard a collection of things before his eyelids slid shut: the sensation of falling and being caught, the groan of springs and wood, something rattling across the floor.
"Oh, f*ck!"
He got a cold sense of unawareness, a tingling just behind his eyelids, and then he was unconscious.)
-
No one has been seen entering or exiting Elias' room since Huxley's entry three days before.
(( So, an explanation about this! Demon magic, in addition to being annoyingly impartial and historically uncaring about Human Feelings, is unpredictable. Elias agreed to let Huxley undo the magical agreement he and his brother Artemis had - the deal isn't null, it's just that the affected individuals now have an option to have it undone, and Huxley's obligated to notify them, so that's why he doesn't stick around.
Anyway, this is Elias agreeing to have the magic undone. Even Huxley doesn't...really know how Elias' mind is going to react to all the new information, because the spell has basically altered his memories and perceptions of basically everything for the last 20 years.
To everyone who really likes Oliver: you're gonna be able to see him! In the flesh! Away from Elias!
To everyone who likes the film Inside Out, this is basically that, except the things that were... Inside... are now... Out. Haha.
To everyone interested in tracking down
https://a.disquscdn.com/get?url=https%3A%2F%2Fcdn.discordapp.com%2Fattachments%2F396849556194721822%2F451049274948583427%2Fimage.jpg&key=aGNXlNuiMPcSPXSf9craxQ
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, heyyyyyyy.
ALSO, thanks to Tairais sososososo much for talking about this with me like, eight million years ago. I never forgot and now it's a real thing that I wasn't actually joking about developing. ))
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Jekyll1886 • a year ago
((Is...anyone welcome to join, or did you have someone particular in mind? I'm intrigued...and don't wanna step on toes. ^^'))
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
(( Anyone is welcome!! ))
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Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
Lewis had had his hands full attending to the aftermath of the Red Death scare; he'd come to the Society for Arcane Sciences only briefly and infrequently these past few days, preoccupied as he'd been.
But today, as he entered the building, he was struck by the rather odd swirl of energy emanating from Elias's room.
Weir went to investigate.
He stood at the door and listened, then rapped thrice upon it.
"Elias? Oliver?" he ventured. "'Tis Lewis."
As expected, there was no reply, so Weir took the liberty of letting himself in.
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Lying unconscious on Artemis’ mostly-stripped bed was Elias, head half-hanging off the side of the mattress, a stack of papers wedged underneath one of his legs. It was almost funny, if not concerning: he looked like he’d been in the middle of a normal day when this has happened. It wasn’t clear how long he’d been lying there, but if the muted, emptied state of his energy was any indication, it could have been any number of hours, even days.
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Jekyll1886  chatterghosts • a year ago • edited
"Well, bollocks," escaped Lewis at the sight. It was as he'd feared.
I do so tire of being right at times like these...
He went over to Artemis's bed and checked Elias's vital signs.
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Elias was alive and well, if having a bit of a sluggish pulse. But that wasn’t the only peculiarity: the moment Lewis took his hand away, Elias began to jerk and twitch, as if the absence of Lewis’ touch had activated such a visceral reaction; he surged forward with a jolt, eyes opening wide and emitting a curious, bright light.
When his twitching seemed to still, the light started to spill forward, blinding and intense and seemingly intent on consuming the room. It washed over the windows and the bookshelf and the door and rose to the ceiling, seemingly lasting a split second and somehow infinitely longer.
And when the light couldn’t get brighter, when it finally began to fade so that the room could be seen —
The door was wide open.
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
He'd taken to baking while healing; creating anything with more substance than a salad led to a swirling cesspool of thoughts he hadn't the energy to sort through. Falling into old habits meant that, between one moment and the next, he'd ended up with a surplus of cookies- far more than he'd be able to, or even want to eat.
Naturally, he sought to share them with friends as a result, and equally as naturally he started after Elias' room, only to be halted by the sight of a bright light spilling from the door and six somewhat familiar figures sprinting all directions down the hallway as if a bomb had gone off.
He could have sworn it was Elias that bumped into him and sent the tray of cookies to the floor with a loud clatter, but the more he thought about it, the more it could have just as easily been Oliver.
"Ahh... What?"
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Jekyll1886  Tairais • a year ago • edited
Elias's body now seemed little more than an empty husk, though it yet lived.
At the same time, Lewis sensed a lesser multitude vectoring out across the Society.
Briefly, he had flashbacks to the previous Halloween and the horde of Mz. Hydes; he tensed, jaw clenching as hands tightened into fists.
CALM. CalmcalmcalmcalmCalm yourself.
He forced himself to close his eyes, to take a breath, to take a moment.
And another.
In so doing, he became aware there were not dozens nor hundreds of Eliases and Olivers, but merely...
"A half-dozen at most," he said to himself.
He let out a relieved sigh.
It was a problem that needed solving, to be certain, but a more manageable one than the Halloween debacle, at least.
He also noticed Richard at the door, and smelled...
"Biscuits?" Weir opened his eyes and quirked his head, only to see Richard standing there with several cookies scattered around him.
"Hello, Richard," Lewis greeted him.
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Sure enough, the six facets went out the door as the light faded and went in four different directions, four of them on their own and two disappearing down a corner together.
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Richard blinked several times in rapid succession, as if doing so would lift the fog of confusion from his eyes.
Once that predictably failed to do so, he shook his head and nodded, picking up the tray and offering them to Lewis as he went.
"Shortbread. What happened?"
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Jekyll1886  Tairais • a year ago • edited
"Well..." said Lewis, about to reach for a cookie, "I went to check on Elias when he sat up with a surge of energy and an odd light that collectively felt like...like..."
He stopped.
Blinked slowly as his still-empty hand dropped to his side.
Cracked his neck.
Glanced about as if looking for someone.
"Huxley..." he called through gritted teeth, his forced politeness ill masking his displeasure as the second syllable took on a disconcerting lilt.
His next utterance dropped by at least an octave.
"A word."
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
The spoken name pulled at him like a cord — within a matter of moments, Huxley materialized before Lewis and Richard. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t me and I suggest you ask Fio—“
His gaze landed on the unhappy Lewis, then the door, then Richard, then the shortbread cookies lying on the floor, and then Lewis again.
“Okay, so I’m gonna guess that this is about Elias.”
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Richard gestured to (the?) Elias, asleep(?) on the bed.
"There are seven of him. Explain, if you would and are of able tongue."
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Jekyll1886  Tairais • a year ago
"Indeed."
Weir waited expectantly.
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
Huxley sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “I hate Demon magic...
“Okay, so— Lewis, you remember how I told you Arty-“ he hung on the ‘y’ as he glanced toward Elias on the bed, then Richard for a moment, before continuing - “made two deals with me. He agreed, basically, that his soul belonged to me and isn’t gonna find rest in the afterlife or whatever, so it tethered to this world instead of the next. Something’s keeping him here, usually something with a lot of emotion invested into it.
“But that’s not good for the soul, and it’s— it’s been corrupting.” He found his face warming with sudden guilt. “Very, very slowly, it’s just getting chipped at, and one of these days, soon or not, he’s gonna end up... y’know. Like me. A demon.
“But I don’t want that. He’s - he was a good kid, and he deserves peace like anyone else. So I’ve been trying to fix it, but— this kind of situation is unprecedented, so I’ve been doing all this research alone, which sucks. But I found that there’s this oft-ignored rule in the Rules, like, our Demonic law, for deals involving enchantments: I’m required to give ‘victims’ of the client— anyone affected by the enchantment— the option to have it undone when and if the client passes on. I was hoping that if I undid the deal, it’d fix everything - plus, Elias would have his memories - But Demon magic is stupidly unpredictable, and mind-altering like that can manifest in...really weird ways. Like this,” he said, indicating Elias’ predicament. “But I went to him and all of his siblings, and whaddya know, most of them said no. But two of them said yes — and they don’t live in a building with dozens of magical beings and arcane scientists, so I was a bit occupied with helping them, hence my absence during these, uh, fun times. But it still...doesn’t look like it worked whatsoever. I have no way of being sure until I figure out what the tether is, but this whole plan seems like a bust.”
He sighed again. “I’m sorry about all of this, you guys. I should have at least, like, warned you.”
see more
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Richard attempted to cross his arms, only to be stopped by the tray he still held in his hands. He kept his face blank and calm, mostly due to the fact that the mess of emotions (concern, irritation, confusion, tentative understanding, the jerking need to fix this) he felt would have resulted in wearing something more akin to a gargoyle than a human.
"What was done, is done. How do we fix the sooner problem, and can anything be done to help you and your cause?"
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Jekyll1886  Tairais • a year ago
Some of the tension drained from Lewis as the situation was explained to him; he was able to shunt his initial anger to a back corner of his mind as he set to work thinking of possible solutions to the problems presented.
"Would the tether, by any chance, feel like Arty?" he asked Huxley. "Would it be an object? A person? A place?"
((chatterghosts ))
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
“First thing we gotta do is track down - what, you said there were six of ‘em, minus Elias?” Huxley asked Richard. “I think we should find them first.”
“It could be any of those,” he said to Lewis. “But I’d guess it has some of Arty’s energy.”
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Jekyll1886  chatterghosts • a year ago
((Tairais ))
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Tairais  Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
Richard nodded wordlessly, jaw clenched and grinding against all the half-formed sentences he wanted to spew into the air.
He distantly wondered what the other... Eliases(?) were doing as they ran through the Society. With any luck, nothing too... destructive. Of course, he mused, the likelihood was that now that he'd thought of the possibility, it would seem that much more likely to occur.
They'd burn that bridge when the got to it. All things in their due season.
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Jekyll1886  Tairais • a year ago • edited
Weir pointed to the unconscious form on Arty's bed.
"Either he's the tether, or it's on or near him," Lewis asserted, the energy in that direction unmistakably that of Artemis.
He nodded to Huxley's suggestion to round up the six other facets of the collective Elias-and-Oliver.
"It appears we've our work cut out for us," Weir remarked as he strode from the room, keying in to the ripples of energies. He focused first on any suggesting anger, sadness, or other emotions likely to cause trouble for the Society or Richard's beloved.
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Huxley nodded in agreement to Lewis’ statement, glancing curiously over his shoulder toward Elias.
First things first, I guess. He followed Lewis out of the room, arms crossing over his chest. “Can you, uh, feel anything?”
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
While Lewis and Huxley made ready to guide their merry band on its way, Richard took inventory of himself. He'd mostly recovered from his comatose stint, but even so, he'd loss muscle in some places and gained it in others, leaving him a half-stranger in his own body.
He stood behind Lewis and Huxley and did his own sort of listening. Typically speaking, when things went wrong in the Society, one could always follow the sounds of minor explosions.
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Jekyll1886  Tairais • a year ago • edited
"There's one to our left, down the hall--his fear and anxiety are radiating out in waves," pronounced Lewis, his manner of speech efficient but laced with an undercurrent of concern.
"Down the hall to our right is one who's nothing if not angry, together with another who's...hm...reining himself in, but not in a good place, that's for certain."
"There are three others on the lower floors--of lesser priority for the moment, I should think," he opined.
"I'll take these two," he volunteered as he strode at a clip down the hall to the right.
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago • edited
“I can take the left with Richard,” Huxley volunteered, turning toward the left half of the hall and beginning to walk at a more casual pace. After a moment, he asked, “Are you good with, uh, anxious people? I’m not, so you might be doing the talking while I figure out how to shove him back into Elias. Man, that sounded weird.”
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Richard offered a small, bemused smile.
"I suppose I will be better than you at it-- I often had to talk my little brother away from memory."
A pause, and then a considering frown.
"Then again, perhaps one instance of Elias or Oliver inclined to being nervous toward me might not allow me to comfort them. I have done my fair share of fright and fear in his company."
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chatterghosts  Tairais • a year ago
“Huh. I’m sure it’ll be fine, though, right? I mean, hopefully, if he’s a part of Elias, he still loves you.” An uncertain pause. “But, then, Oliver...”
Huxley sighed and shook his head. “Let’s start looking. We’ll cross that bridge later.”
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Richard nodded, tilting his head to listen for the sound of footsteps on woodwork.
After a moment, he chuckled, a slightly desperate sort of sound.
"With any luck, we will cross the bridge and not merely burn it."
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chatterghosts  Tairais • a year ago
Richard would hear feet slapping, quite heavily, a set of stairs from behind. “Foolish, foolish, foolish,” a stern voice mumbled.
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Richard half-pivoted on his foot toward the sound without entirely meaning to, following it instinctively. He cast a glance over to Huxley as if to ask 'what next?' a curious look in his eye.
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chatterghosts  Tairais • a year ago • edited
Huxley did a similar instinctive heel-turn, head tilting at the sight before him.
Elias—or not quite: the scar on the bridge of his nose was gone, his scraggly facial hair now professional and clipped, a pair of rounded spectacles on his nose; his face was harder now, a bit more mature— was coming up the stairs fast, perfectly perching a tray consisting of two plain-looking bread muffins and a large glass of water in his hands. “Leaving him alone, what kind of—God, I never should have said yes to that ridiculous proposition...”
He came to a full stop only feet away from them, words tapering into quiet, hands tightening around the tray, eyes squinting in scrutiny.
Huxley looked to Richard, then at the figure standing apart from them. “Hey, I found one.”
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
"So you did" He murmured.
He offered a small wave to the man holding the tray and a sheepish smile.
"Is everything well? You seem troubled."
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chatterghosts  Tairais • a year ago
“I...”
Elias(?) cleared his throat and stepped forward, still perfectly balancing the tray even now one-handed as he offered the other for the two of them to shake in turn (Huxley just shrugged and waved a hand at this). “I am— well, I suppose I can’t introduce myself as... hm. Well, I am.. Elinaos, avatar of his logic and instinct for preservation.” A brief pause. “My initial...actions upon learning of this situation were quite immature of me. I know my duty, unlike the... others....” Unmasked apology, and then annoyance, dripped from his words.
“Regardless, I anticipate you’ll forgive me for such a mistake; like you, I only want what is best for him.”
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Richard chuckled, nodding slightly. Like Huxley, he too waved away Elinaos' offering.
"I would imagine that the... situation would warrant such a reaction. You need not worry over aplogies."
A pause.
"Are you taking that to Elias? It will be... good to have someone watching over him."
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chatterghosts  Tairais • a year ago
“I was, yes,” he said, eyes dripping to the tray. “I do not know if he will awake anytime soon, but nonetheless.”
Huxley went quiet for a moment, contemplating, then shrugging. “I mean... I could try to snap him out of it.”
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Richard frowned.
"Is that... wise, in his current state?"
Well. 'Tis a plan, which is more than I have helped.
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chatterghosts  Tairais • a year ago • edited
Huxley paused again, closing his eyes for a moment.
Possibilities ran like rivers across his vision, splitting into streams and ponds and puddles of potential outcomes. Elias could simply just stay asleep, and then they would move on.
But then the rivers collided at once, and oceans of uncountable timelines sprang into view. Elias could very well wake; in fact, it seemed quite possible now. Little things, like a choice in breathing patterns, caused potentials to fall out of his vision, replaced by other, newer chances, all of them equal, all of them playing out in their own worlds, infinite somewheres far, far away.
Slowly, his eyes opened. “Yeah, it should be fine.”
Elinaos stared between them, blank-faced. “If you’re certain.”
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Richard had been about to echo Elinaos' response word for word, a realization that made him chuckle softly.
"Indeed. It may prove part of the key as to how we might fix this."
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chatterghosts  Tairais • a year ago
Shrugging lazily, Huxley turned away from Elinaos and the stairs and began to stride toward Elias’ room. Elinaos fell into step behind him, and in no time they were back at Elias’ door.
Elinaos set the tray on Elias’ bed and knelt at the edge of Artemis’ bed. Huxley, meanwhile, pulled Elias upright (with no small effort - asleep, the man was dead weight), holding him by the shoulder with one hand and keeping the other, which had begun to glow a soft gold, a mere inch from his face.
Instead of touching him gently, however, he pulled his hand back and slapped the golden light across Elias’ face, yelling, ”Wake up!”
As soon as the smack connected with his face, Elias groaned to life with a painful start, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. “Ow.”
His eyes, tired and bloodshot and (perhaps strangest of all) blue-gray, betrayed no feeling, and his cheek was still blush-red from the rude awakening — but he said nothing, simply staring at Huxley and Richard in something like but not quite confusion.
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Tairais  chatterghosts • a year ago
Richard gritted his jaw, but otherwise remained calm and pleasant to the outside world.
Internally, he pushed his instinctive rage aside. He was tired. Rage was further tiring. He wouldn't have any energy left to help if he chose to get angry now.
He did so dislike it when emotion became a luxury he couldn't afford. Every thought became scribbled out with chalk in the background, lest he remember something, anything at all.
"Good morning. Or afternoon, as it might be- I am afraid I cannot remember which."
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Lewis would have to walk quite a ways down before feeling the energy of the two taper in a particular direction; it grew to its strongest at a...
Supply closet?
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Jekyll1886  chatterghosts • a year ago
Interesting... thought Lewis as he listened carefully, paying particular attention to how close their auras were to each other.
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Lewis would hear a rather heated conversation from behind the door.
“— and you obviously can’t lead us. So quick to express how you’re feeling, and it gets us nowhere good.”
“Don’t f*ckin’ talk to me like that! I can help Elias just as much as anyone else.”
“Anger doesn’t help anyone.”
”F*ck you!”
“Exactly.”
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Jekyll1886  chatterghosts • a year ago
Lewis stood to the side of the door, lest it open suddenly.
"Pardon me," he ventured, "but wouldn't it be easier to settle who's the leader once all six or seven of you are present?"
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
The argument came to a sudden, silent end.
The first voice that had spoken - scratchier, a little deeper - put in after a moment, “Stay out of this—“
The second voice cut in gruffly, clipping the end of the first’s words. “Lewis?”
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Jekyll1886  chatterghosts • a year ago • edited
"Yes," Weir answered.
"I'm just outside the closet."
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Lewis would hear several seconds’ worth of prolonged, harsh, indecipherable whispers from behind the door. Then, there was a single grunt, a thud, and the door opened.
The man that stood there was glowering and rubbing his knuckles. His hair was close in length to Oliver’s, but it’s color resembled Elias’; he had sharp, hard features and a scowl fit to kill. The man lying on the ground behind him was doubled over and unable to be viewed similarly.
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Jekyll1886  chatterghosts • a year ago
"Hello," Lewis greeted them, fairly certain the angry one was the one who actually wanted to see him.
Weir wasn't sure, however, what to call him--nor the other one, for that matter.
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
Without greeting back, he snorted and closed the door behind him. “He was being an assh*le.” His voice carried a deep, scratchy quality that was hard hard to place and harder to enjoy.
Squaring his shoulders, he regarded Lewis silently and suspiciously. After a moment, he said, “Just call me Thymos.”
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Jekyll1886  chatterghosts • a year ago
Anger-ire-wrath, Weir's mind silently translated the Greek.
Appropriate, he reflected, given the emotion he'd perceived.
"Alright," he affirmed with a nod.
"Who's the one in the closet, then?" he asked with a tilt of his head, curious.
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chatterghosts  Jekyll1886 • a year ago
“Diatias,” Thymos rumbled. “Ugly son-of-a-b*tch...”
A rarity for Elias, or a part of him: Thymos was a man of, apparently, few words.
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Helen Jekyll • a year ago
((If you don’t mind, I’d love to join in!))
Although Hela had been permitted to freely roam the Society for quite some time now, she still tended to avoid leaving the safety the locked doors of her room provided, particularly given how doing so in the past had ended... rather poorly with some of the encounters she had. There was just something about stepping into the hallway that made her feel exposed...
And so, to keep herself entertained and conflict free in the days Lewis was busy with other things—with him visiting only rarely, she’d be hard pressed to get help if she needed it—Hela decided to throw herself and a few close friends of hers a small party within the secure confines of her room.
All she had to do was make it to the kitchen and back with the food and drink she’d collect there without running into anyone who’d like to kill or harm her... Should be a breeze.
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chatterghosts  Helen Jekyll • a year ago • edited
As Hela neared the kitchen, she would overhear a conversation between two concerningly similar voices:
“I-I- I don’t think we should be doing this. Isn’t— this is thievery, isn’t it? Is this considered stealing? You should really be- you should consider the consequences, what if a cook comes in and, and she says, or he, or- and they say ‘you- you scoundrel, you’re stealing’- uh- ‘bread!’ and you can’t explain that you weren’t stealing bread because you were, a—“
“Breathe, friend,” a softer, just faintly higher voice said.
“I’m trying, I just- I don’t know how good of an idea this is...”
“We’re not stealing! We live here!”
“That’s— well, technically, but we’re, uh, not exactly standard residency, and...” He would continue to stutter on until silenced.
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Helen Jekyll  chatterghosts • a year ago
She stifled a groan at the tell-tale sound of people—unless she wanted to postpone to acquiring of food for however long it took for whoever was in the kitchen to clear off, it seemed she’d be forced to interact with her fellow Lodger.
Marvelous.
Realizing that the more food those speaking took—whether they were truly thieves or not—the less there would be her, Hela decided to intervene, passing the threshold into the kitchen with a half annoyed, half pointed, “What’s this about stealing?”
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chatterghosts  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
Her unexpected intervention caused a surprised gasp from one of them and a strangled grunt-yelp from the other. Before Hela was two men, both resembling someone that she had met before: Oliver, who she’d befriended at least somewhat many months before.
The one who cried out was standing aside, looking askance at her. His features were a bit more haggard from stress, drawn and seemingly in a state of permanent frown . “Oh... I remember you.”
“So do I!” chirped the one closest to the doorway, his demeanor a little brighter, almost more visibly saturated in color than the man behind him. “It’s so nice to see you again!” His eyes roamed over her curiously, excitement and honest joy shining in his gaze. “Did you bring your critter companion?”
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Helen Jekyll  chatterghosts • a year ago • edited
Her steps faltered at the sight of them both, and she turned to each of them as they spoke.
“Did I....? No, he’s... safe in my room.”
A frown—wary, confused, and nearly concerned—tugged on her lips.
“What... happened to Oliver?
What did you do?
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chatterghosts  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
The more visibly excited one seemed to dim a little at her uncertainty, gaze falling to the side. “We’re... we’re both Oliver.”
The lookalike who was teetering uncomfortably on his heels simply kept staring at his feet.
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Helen Jekyll  chatterghosts • a year ago
“....huh.”
There was a rather lengthy moment of pause, the gears in Hela’s head visibly turning as she processed the information.
“Well, I... guess that means I’ll just have to set up two extra spots in my room, rather than one,” She said with the hint of a grin, beginning the task of gathering what all she needed, “That is, if you guys are even interested in coming to see what I’ve planned.”
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chatterghosts  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
“I- I can’t,” the more anxious of the two blurted. “I don’t really know you.”
“Nonsense! She’s a friend of Oliver, Deilos, and you know what they say about that,” the other said with a growing smile.
“But— they met once, Cir, and you know what Elias sa—“
”Elias made that decision listening to you,” he said, the faintest displeasure curling his words. “I’m the heart! I know what he wants, and it’s to let people in! This’ll be good for both of them, Dei, you know that.”
‘Dei’ frowned and continued staring dejectedly at his feet throughout the duration of the lecture. “Fine...”
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Helen Jekyll  chatterghosts • a year ago • edited
“If... it helps any, Lepus and some of his friends will be there,” Hela mentioned with quiet hopefulness, a touch hesitant, “And I’m... I don’t hurt people anymore, if that’s what you’re worried about... I’m on a strict, ‘destroying only poorly made furniture’ diet, at the moment.”
Finding a tray, she began to pile on an assortment of greens, carrots, tea supplies, and a small pitcher of milk.
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chatterghosts  Helen Jekyll • a year ago
Deilos stared warily at Hela for a long-suspended moment before breaking his gaze away to the floor. “I’ll...I’ll go.”
Cirol smiled and clapped his hands together. “Excellent!”
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