hopefully headed to multiversal

[lupa]

[GG is apparently involved in some very deep thought, hands on her hips as she stares intently at nothing.

Eventually, she speaks, in a Quebecois accent, her tone rough:]

Right. Fine. We’ll compromise.

I’ll let you bring me in dripping blood. If- you give me the satisfaction of knowing he’s dead. Got it? If I'm doing this I'm doing it properly. Not ‘badly wounded’, not ‘oh, he’ll- he'll never walk or talk or see again’.

Dead.

[And that’s all. She throws up her hands to indicate as much and then shoves them back on her hips, eyebrows still drawn aggressively downwards.]

Comments

[rhinemaid]

What would be the point, otherwise.

[ ... well, you know. when you're trying to kill someone. ]

[lupa]

Exactly.

[Especially seeing as this is revenge, indulging a side of her she's put quite a lot of work into controlling. If she's going to ruin that she might as well do it properly.]

Anyway. You could call it- settling up before I go. [She grins. Well, a corner of her mouth goes up. Nearly!!] I hear we're meant to be starting new lives, after all.

[And the reality of their universe means they're some of the few people who could actually look at Baedal as a new leaf- though GG's in two minds about it. She has things to do at home.]

[rhinemaid]

That's the idea. Not everyone really-- goes for it. Entirely.

[ Ilde's promises in their world are as kept as they're getting, though; Baedal is home, now, because there's not much going back after death. ]

[lupa]

Really, not everyone really goes for being kidnapped to a magical city?

[You surprise me! She puts the dryness on hold for a moment, though, getting wry instead.]

I suspect they're the people who still have working ones at home.

[Cities, that is. Working ones which aren't ruled by unearthly horrors.]

[rhinemaid]

New York before the-- that.

[lupa]

Nice for some. I never went.

[She actually doesn't sound bitter, because she doesn't want to be the one complaining that not every world is completely ruined. 'Well, if my life's gone to hell, everyone else's should have too.' No, that's childish, and she'll avoid thinking it.

...Even if she has just thought it, and even if it's going to feel like a kick in the teeth when she's presented with the matter out of the blue.]

[rhinemaid]

Neither did I.

[ she doesn't think. she might have, when she was too small to remember it clearly beyond the blur of train stations and air ports and hotels that was Emery's lifestyle at the time. ]

I don't recommend going now.

[lupa]

No? There go my vacation plans.

[...ha. ha.

Not very funny, because her best friend is/was being kept captive there and there's nothing GG can do to help unless she abandons the (diminished, compromised, but struggling on) estate. Which would probably end in her getting killed and endangering the lives of everyone else she's trying to look after.

So: revenge.]

You were there.

[N...ot a question. N...ot that tactful, either.]

[rhinemaid]

[ tact is hard to come by in the apocalypse, Ilde knows this well. ]

Briefly.

[lupa]

[With Dear_Mun induced omniscience, and rather an incongruously casual tone--]

Thank you, if I don't say it later.

[Moving swiftly on!]

So. Baedal. City of wonders. What do people- do there?

[What do people do when they aren't fighting for their lives, after all? She's honestly even having trouble picturing this properly. It's been a long time.]

[rhinemaid]

[ slightly wryly, because it's still surreal how her life has gone from point a to point b to point c to point wtf over the last few years-- ] Well, I teach music. Sonja's a foghunter.

[lupa]

I'll assume that doesn't mean actually hunting fog. As far as I know it doesn't run away.

[rhinemaid]

In the fog. It's unpleasant.

[ from the woman who described New York as 'like that'. so. ]

[lupa]

Mm. Had my share of that.

[Like she's ticking off options already. Not doing that, can't do this, won't do the other...]

...I'm going to have to get a job.

[In a tone of slight wonder. Again: been a while.

Also, yes; she's reacting to the prospect of magical kidnap by immediately considering her job prospects. She's that sort of person.]

[rhinemaid]

[ pragmatism is a survival skill. sometimes it works better than others. ]

They make it easy to get work. At least.

[lupa]

Good. I don't know how to spin 'second in command of a...post-apocalyptic supernatural sanctuary' on a CV.

[rhinemaid]

Crisis training with management experience.

[ ...what. ]

[lupa]

...Impressive.

[She means it :c]

[rhinemaid]

I like words. [ a shrug-- she likes them, and also, she is good at them! unfortunately this doesn't mean she's good at things like conversations. ]

[lupa]

Yeah. Not my thing.

[Words or conversations really, at least with strangers, though she's probably better at carrying them on than Ilde.

...welp.]

[agrat]

Ostie...I wish I were surprised about him.

You're coming here, though? It's certain?

[caoineadh]

Maybe you can bring his head with you, then you'll know he's dead. [This is not the sort of thing Clio would normally say, but - extenuating circumstances]

[lupa]

I...can hope.

[She gives a rather crooked grin.]

After all, I hear they have food. Livestock. Laws. Something called an 'economy'.

[That's in a dry tone of mock-wonder, but really, it's actually not that sarcastic. She is going to be struck dumb. Though she still doesn't want to think about what will happen to the estate.]

And someone who managed to spring herself from New York.

[Well, as good as.]

[agrat]

All of the things that make up a real non-apocalyptic society...but also, places to get nail polish! [ She's been in a veritable conventionally feminine girltopia for a while, it's a thing. ]

Hi. Yes, it was an auspicious entrance, to be sure, bleeding poison from the eyes and freaking out the fairy I almost ate. [ Technically the fairy was for Lucas, and the other witch for her, but close enough. ] So we can have a trend of arriving in good form, us estate people.

[lupa]

Nice idea. Nowhere to put it, though. Might make finding a place to live difficult.

[caoineadh]

I'd say you could just throw it in the river, but that would probably annoy the naiad. [hi, Ilde....]

[lupa]

Oh, good. It'd be a shame if people thought we were too sane. I only hope I don't upstage you by-- actually eating a faerie.

[...hi, Clio D:

But moving on quickly from that worrying topic:]

Nail polish. It has been years since I put on nail polish. --I stopped before the apocalypse, but there's choice and then there's necessity.

Maybe I'll finally get a proper manicure.

[Well, probably not, for the same reasons she never did before the apocalypse- why would you pay someone to do what you can do yourself- but the idea that she could is nice.]

[lupa]

I'd think I'd want to keep it. As a morale-booster.

[That's a bit grim, and a bit growly.

A beat.

Completely deadpan, designed to defuse the fact that she is absolutely serious about the joy this man's decapitated head would bring her, she adds:]

A convenient hatstand.

[caoineadh]

Gemma. [and that's very much a motherly 'I do not approve of these shenanigans' tone]

[but, with a hint of amusement:] Make sure you clean it first, I don't want blood all over the carpet.

[agrat]

I'll try to turn up there as fast as I can, but--well, if you try to eat her, she'll scream, and then where will your eardrums be?

I'll do nail art for everyone. I used to be really good at that.

[lupa]

It's not- yeah. It's hard to think straight. It's a lot to do with being hungry. She'll be fine. Not like I'm hard to outthink when I'm that bad.

[Just hard to outrun. She nearly says.]

...Nail art might be a bit much. [Wry. GG's distinctly not interested in girltopia- though she might indulge in nail art out of curiosity.] Next thing I'll be wearing colour.

[agrat]

It'll be fine. They're pretty conscientious about our safety in that arrival room...which is funny, given the rest of the city.

There is nothing wrong with color. [ Mock severely. ]

[lupa]

No? I don't trust it.

[--colour, that is. Though it goes for the arrival room too, actually.]

I'll tell you what, though- I think the universe owes me a seriously expensive pair of new jeans.

...third time lucky.

[lupa]

Augh, crisse de tabarnak... It's Giordano if you have to use one of my names- do I look like a Gemma to you?

[She's not offended, though. Fondly exasperated if anything.]

[caoineadh]

You don't listen if I call you Giordano. "Gemma" always gets your attention, if only to swear at me.