multiversallogs | in the woods dark and deep I offer you eternal sleep

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in the woods dark and deep I offer you eternal sleep

Who: Alba, Alexia Swiftdawn, Anna Demirovna, Bruce Wayne, Cliona Donovan, Data, Don Draper, Ilde Decima, Irene Adler, Jae-hyun Kim, Jaime Lannister, Kalinda Sharma, Marie-Sixtine St. Vincent, Martel, Nuray Amedi, Penelope Lane, Odessa Wander, Pepper Potts, Rex Lewis, Seoraj, Shrieky, Sunny, Wolfgang Einhorn, Xas
What: Something bad is afoot, and you must help.
Where: Abrogate Green, Badside, Barrackham, Chnum, Echomire, Flag Hill, Gallmarch, Ketch Heath, Pelorus Fields, Raven's Gate, Sangwine, Serpolet, Sobek Croix, Stoneshell, and the northern woods
When: July 22nd to the 30th
Notes: People are slow right now and a few are on hiatus, so slow-tagging and back-tagging are totally fine. Please check the accompanying OOC post for info and to coordinate.
Warnings: Disturbing content, will include violence, choking, drowning, body horror, and animal death.

Strange events tend to go unnoticed in Baedal, compared to the much stranger things happening around them. People don't tend to be noticed when they go missing, either. The city takes these things in stride. After all, people get called back to their homeworld all the time, or they die. Everyone knows this.

Still, rumors start cropping up around the city about the sudden appearance of twelve identical towers positioned around the city like the face of a clock...

ALBA ♞ Cliona Donovan
DON DRAPER ♞ Pepper Potts, Kalinda Sharma
ILDE DECIMA ♞ Irene Adler, Marie-Sixtine St. Vincent
JAE-HYUN KIM ♞ Sunny
MARTEL ♞ Data, Jaime Lannister
NURAY AMEDI ♞ Alexia Swiftdawn, Anna Demirovna
ODESSA WANDER ♞ Rex Lewis
SEORAJ ♞ Bruce Wayne
SHRIEKY ♞ Xas
WOLFGANG EINHORN ♞ Penelope Lane

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You are approached by a desperate young man who asks you to climb a fence and pick a bit of cabbage for him, for you see, his wife... anyway, his sob story is boring; should you acquiesce, as soon as your fingers touch the plant, it wraps itself around you and pulls you into the ground. You awaken in a tower in Flag Hill, and discover that your hair has doubled in length. In fact, it's growing fast enough for you to see. In fact, within an hour, it's down to your feet. And it's still growing. It won't stop until it's started filling the room, tangling you in it, to the point where you're not actually sure whether you can drown in your own hair...

There's an old woman pacing outside the tower. How did you get here? Chance, maybe, fate, destiny, whatever you want to call it. Either way, she looks relieved by your presence. She rushes at you, entreating your help. There's someone trapped in the top of this tower, and if they aren't rescued, something bad will happen to this city - very bad. Catastrophically bad. We all may die.

Plus, if you do this for her, she promises you a hefty reward.

In Pelorus Fields, she tells you, there's a thick patch of brambles maybe twenty feet into the earth. You'll need to locate it, climb down it, and retrieve the two items there - a ladder made of silk and a pair of silver scissors. But be careful, she tells you; it's guarded by monstrous beasts.

Jaime Lannister gets there first.

He isn't expecting to have any kind of companion, and so the fact he has hesitated has little to do with waiting on a second party. Pelorus Fields is not unknown to him -- it's expansive and rural and makes for good riding, and in fact sits astride a chestnut gelding as he approaches the location the stranger woman had bid him go. A hefty reward is a promising thing.

Which is new. It's a new desire that still fits awkwardly for him, the financial survival that comes with Baedal, that never had before. He isn't helpless, he can roll with almost anything thrown at him; but its necessity, its permanence, this is new, and he wishes Tyrion had remained, but the dastardly little imp had found his way out, in some form or another.

His gladness for that is grudging at best. Clear of the location that is supposedly guarded by monsters, Jaime swings his way off his horse, ties him off with a last brush of his hand between the mount's eyes, and begins his approach. He is dressed in leather and stiff cotton as opposed to full armoured regalia, but does have a sword at his side that he rests a hand on as he moves.

Money is new to Data, as well—not as a concept, but as a personal need. He sees the reward as potentially useful, but not motivational. After all, what good would money be if they all were to die?

Thirty years of Starfleet training means that a cry for help and a warning of impending disaster is impossible to ignore. It takes some time to make his way across the city, even at a full run, but fortunately, when he arrives near the brambles in the Pelorus Fields, things still seem quiet. The location is also marked by a horse and a man who was likely its rider. Only his back is visible.

Slowing his approach to something quiet and cautionary some distance away from the target area, Data takes cover and begins to circle around in order to better see the other individual. Fortunately, it's not long before the man turns his head, and oddly, he's recognizable: Jaime Lannister, a member of Data's cohort.

“Excuse me, sir,” Data calls to him as he steps out from the brush, “but were you sent here by someone from a tower in Flag Hill?”

That sense of not being alone is enough to turn Jaime's head, his hand immediately circling the hilt of his blade by the time Data is officially making his presence known. The knight turns readily without actually startling, allowing an inch or two of steel to shine above sheath. He steps towards Data as if to reclaim his own authority of the space, a mark of puzzlement writing between his brows.

It's an affect, rather than genuine bafflement (he's seen in Baedal too long to be off-put so easily), sort of designed to give the impression that Data ought to be answering questions rather than asking any.

But he nods, after a beat's worth of silence. "A crone," he clarifies, the corner of his mouth hooking up. "Is this the moment where you attempt to rob me or carry out some other conspiracy? She chose poorly her mark if so."

Edited 2012-07-31 11:09 (UTC)

“No sir,” Data replies matter-of-factly, expression becoming inquisitive as he tilts his head. “She sent me here, as well. I am on a mission to retrieve two items from this bramble patch, and thought perhaps you might be one of the guardians I am required to fight.”

Then, in a semi-deferential manner (humans often seem to appreciate this), “I realize now this hypothesis is most likely incorrect, seeing as you appear to be a member of my cohort. We may be here with the same goal.”

"Only if I wish not to split reward," Jaime replies, ever glib, but there is an answer in the way he shoves his sword back into place -- he isn't intending to be of threat to Data. There's a sort of bleak tolerance for being recognised as anything to do with any cohort and he doesn't dignify it with confirmation, other than to say, "I don't recall you. A name, before I invent one." And he can come up with a lot of mean ones.

He starts to walk for where the brambles are.

“My name is Data,” Data says, and if there's a bit of force behind that statement—well, the idea of having a name made up for him is not one he finds acceptable. Despite this, he follows Jaime toward the brambles, still concerned about what the woman had said and thinking it best to investigate even if her story might turn out to be false.

The brambles are quite thick and difficult to navigate through, but unfortunately have to be (but thou must) because there's no sign of anything in the shallower parts.

Deeper in, there's a low, rumbling growl, the crackle of breaking branches, a lashing movement, and a few moments later the emergence of a head from the brambles - three heads, actually, attached to one leonine body. In addition to the lion's head, there's a goathead emerging from the middle of its back and a full, living serpent attached to where its tail should be, hissing and rattling. It paces back and forth, obviously guarding something and overtly hostile.

"The crone made no jape."

Apparently.

This is Jaime's warning, at least, quietly delivered -- his excursion through the brambles was deliberate, unhurried, snagging branches and thorns scraping against leather designed to ward off such things, although he is a pretty big guy with not exactly the most subtle of weapons. Data will find it easy, likely, to keep pace. Once he sees the beast, he does stop rather than charge right into it.

There's the slide of steel against leather, however, as he withdraws his sword. "Would you prefer to take the end with the snake, or the end with the lion?" he invites, ever wry, and here he actually offers a blade to Data, a formidable knife that lacks the reach of his sword, but hells if he is giving up his sword. He has no idea how the man, if he is indeed a man, planned to attempt his quest, but the offer is there.

There or not its taken, Jaime will probably make his approach -- his plans begin and end with 'hit it with swords'.

The journey through the brambles is not so kind to Data's clothing—by the time they stop, the fabric has been pulled and torn to the point where he'll have to get rid of it after this. His skin hasn't been damaged too much due to its heightened durability, but there are a few shallow scrapes on his hands and arms where he shielded his face from the thorns. There will be no way to repair them.

When it's offered, Data takes the knife with no complaint. As far as he knows, Jaime is just a human; it's only fair that he keep the longer-range weapon.

“The sword is more suited for fighting the lion,” he says, watching their opponent carefully. “I will take care of the snake. I think we will need to attack simultaneously so that both ends of the creature will be distracted. Does this plan sound suitable?”

"Then move as I move," Jaime says, which is consent to both plan and taking on the lion end both. It won't, actually, be the first time he's fought anything of the kind, and it had not been as successful as initially envisioned. This is actually a point of motivation, rather than fear.

He breaks away from Data, but there is only so much sneaking they will have time for -- the brambles are not quiet, and this thing appears to have at least three sets of eyes. All Jaime waits for is that leonine head to turn his way--

And that is his cue to move and Data's cue to do so as well, blade flashing as its brought around in a muscled arc for the beast's feline face.

The chimera lets out one fierce roar (hiss?) before it lunges, narrowly missing having its face split open by Jaime's sword. It is pretty unfortunate that both ends tend to operate both independently of each other and in tandem. Moreso than most creatures, anyway. It swipes its paw at Jaime's leg, back leg imitating the motion at Data, the snake-head lolling there and wide open, venomous fangs out. Of course it has no reason to know they're useless from this end.

In the end, it puts up a good fight, but it's true that lions tend to kill by suffocation and it doesn't have much room to maneuver. It needs to have all three heads cut off before it will finally stop moving.

Data isn't too concerned about the snake's head; it's the paws he needs to avoid. Being torn at by claws would cause worse damage than potential puncture wounds from fangs, and the snake's venom doesn't pose any threat to him. He sees the opening just as Jaime does, and, as planned, they attack together.

Quickly, dexterously, Data darts in to grab the monstrous snake's throat. His fingers barely reach from one side of its jaw to the other, but his strength makes up for his poor grip—it struggles, but it can't escape. Feeling the creature squirm in his hand inspires a chain reaction of uncertainties, but Data knows he can't waste any time.

One slash with the knife is enough to take the serpent's head nearly off, but it's not a clean cut. It hangs by a stubborn strip of flesh, some supernatural force keeping the snake hissing and writhing even as blood starts bubbling up through its severed neck and running down over Data's fingers. He has to strike again, and it costs him a couple valuable seconds; even as he succeeds in separating the snake's head from its weakly thrashing body, one of the beast's paws swipes out at his leg again. The tip of a claw catches his pants, catches the surface of his skin—he can sense the pressure as it pulls him open.

Retaliation isn't in his nature. None of this is in his nature. The blood on his hands isn't something he's used to; it's not something he's ever seen before. He's doing this to save the city, possibly to save this world, but it's an act of violence. This being doesn't even seem sentient, and yet they're hacking it to pieces.

Instead of striking out at the chimera in self-defense, he backs away to assess the damage and consider how to deal with its third head.

Questions of its sentience, of the purpose of this attack, do not occur to Lannister. It is in its way, it would harm him if he could, and he's hacked many a thing to pieces as the quickest means of problem solving. Jaime buries a long length of sword into the thing's leonine throat, spilling scarlet, and still it wars like no beast he's encountered.

Irritating, but different, at least. Jaime withdraws the sword with the efficiency of a soldier, but brings it down like a butcher -- his weapon doesn't hold the beauty and sharpness of the King of the North's execution blade, but it has a similar weight and carries Jaime's strength true enough to cleave the lion's head almost off it's neck. It takes another swipe before it goes rolling.

He huffs out a breath and glances sideways at Data. It seems the thing will continue to tangle for as long as it has its last remaining head. Wordlessly, Jaime presses back into the fight.

A couple of well-aimed blows disables a leg, creating an opening to hack off the last head. Jaime is not completely unscathed, which is annoying, but so long as he doesn't get drastically injured on this foolish errand, then his employer has no cause to smirk at him.

"What comes next again?" he puzzles, wry, taking out a cloth from a pocket to wipe down his blade.

“Finding the ladder and the scissors. They may be nearby,” Data replies, observing the dying chimera for a moment before going over to Jaime and offering his knife back, handle first.

His walking, he notices, isn't hindered; the gash on his leg must only be skin-deep, which is fortunate. He crouches down and takes a quick look to assess the damage, and finds that the tear is a long one, and has parted his skin completely—it will leave the more delicate electronics underneath vulnerable. When he gets back to the city, he'll need to acquire bandages for protection.

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in the woods dark and deep I offer you eternal sleep

RAPUNZEL.

abduction ♚ martel.

rescue ♞ data, jaime.

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