futurology | VIDEO | USERNAME: HAWKEYE | FORWARD-DATED TO DEC 4TH

VIDEO | USERNAME: HAWKEYE | FORWARD-DATED TO DEC 4TH

[The username suggests it should be Riza's face appearing in front of you, but it isn't. It's Arthur's — you may have spoken to him, if you attended the Order meeting, but if you haven't, he still looks very familiar. He's been at the scene of nearly every shocking event, decidedly un-shocked. There's a reason for that.]

Hello. My name is Arthur, and I speak to you today representing the Order of the Chimera. I've tracked down one of your own who has graciously allowed me to contact you all.

You're likely aware that some of your people are being detained by the guard on charges of treason. This is due in no small part to the Order meeting they were present at. My people have been taken, too. I understand you may oppose the Order, but in this instance, I believe it would benefit us all to work together to free them.

[He pauses for a moment.]

If freeing your companions isn't motivation enough, my brother is in custody as well. Although I hear the guard has invented a barrier to absorb magic, I have no doubts he will eventually escape. However, the longer he is kept, the greater his retribution will become. [Gravely:] If you value the safety of the people of Chantes, or even your own, I suggest you join the cause.

There is little time. We infiltrate the prison tomorrow, regardless of the risks. I assure you the damage will be much greater should Michel grow even angrier.

[OOC NOTES: Feel free to comment around, threadjack, etc. This is meant for characters to be able to plan! Thank you,

strictdiscipline, for helping us!]

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[ That location gets Sebastian's confusion to turn into a smile that seems kind, and he nods in understanding. ]

That is quite fitting. I should not have guessed any differently.

[ And it's a bit of a comfort, in a way. If a few months have passed and she has kept with her "magic," then that works to Ciel's favor, doesn't it? He does look forward to seeing how all of that will turn out, but like Sieglinde, he quickly dismisses such a thought to focus on the present. ]

Thank you. I shall be there shortly, then.

[ Sebastian bows his head lightly as he would were they speaking in person, but the video ends after that. As promised, he makes his way to her, and it really doesn't take too much effort. He may be quite unfamiliar with the city, but he's lucky enough to find someone willing to give him quite good directions to said apothecary, and after a quick conversation with the shopkeeper, there's a knock at Sieglinde's room. The whole process takes perhaps ten minutes at the most. ]

Master Sullivan? May I come in?

[In the time between the last message and Sebastian's arrival, Sieglinde is left bereft of what to do, or really, how to feel. When she had first arrived in Chantes, she'd been distraught to find herself the only one from her world present, and had begun to resign herself to that continuing.

She hadn't expected Sebastian to arrive- nor had she expected the peculiar mix of excitement to see someone she knew combined with the disappointment that it wasn't someone else.

By the time he arrives, she's forced herself to do something, reshuffling a large volume of her notes and setting up for the creation of a salve by the time he knocks, by the time she sees a familiar voice. It takes her a moment, but finally,]

- You may.

[Sieglinde turned in her chair to face the door, not at all changed since the last time they'd seen each other... if you could ignore the rather worn and slightly blood-stained hems of her dress, the tangled state of her hair loose around her shoulders and down her back, and the bandaged up attempts at concealing the swelling of infection in her feet.

She certainly seemed intent on ignoring all of those things.]

[ With his head already respectfully bowed, Sebastian enters her room. By comparison, but unsurprisingly, he's exactly as she would remember. He's the very picture of the perfect butler that's always cool and composed, and once he politely closes the door after himself, he looks up to meet her. His gaze is intent, though not necessarily intense as he looks at her face, and he bows his head lightly to her, though he keeps his gaze on hers. ]

Hello, Master Sullivan.

[ It's only after he gives his proper greeting that he pauses to take her in as a whole, and he is a little less than pleased. That's a reaction he'll keep to himself for now, but the fussy part of him is quite alarmed at her state of dress and of her hair, since she really must learn to be a lady before she could ever hope of meeting the Queen! But from there, the fussiness turns to more practical as catches sight of those too-dainty feet.

...That could be a problem, he thinks.

But he'll get to all of that momentarily. For now, the basics, so he walks forward to her chair after he takes in all of these details in little more than a moment. Much like that short amount of time where he had pledged himself to her service, he crouches before her on one knee, almost knightly in his formality. ]

I hope you will pardon my not being here sooner.

[ Not that he had any control over that, nor did he want to be here... But he'll keep that to himself. ]

[Sieglinde sat ramrod straight in her chair, hands gripping her knees beneath her skirts and her gaze fixed on the butler. She had stopped trying to think through what she would do if someone from her world arrived, instead focusing on the more immediate tasks at hand- the disappearance of the sun, the riots, the prisoners facing a death sentence.

And in the absence of the one who had been trying to at least make sure she ate and slept and kept up a semblance of normality in a world that lacked days and nights, who had been the one to carry her around in a world without Wolfram or Sebastian, she'd put that sort of care aside for frantic attempts at trying to find a solution to the imminent executions. - Which had included more walking on her own two feet in the past few days than she'd ever done her entire life.

The familiarity of the bow Sebastian gives her, though, brings a small twitch to he corners of her lips, that bubble of relief swelling up in her chest again to see someone from her own world- not a dream like the nightmares she's been having for months now, but real.]

I cannot fault you for that, Sebastian.

[She held out her hand, trying to force the smile to actually appear.]

It is good to see you.

[ Without hesitation, he takes her hand gently into his own as he raises his gaze to hers completely. It's a bit much, and he knows it, but the absence of any others they know here doesn't make it quite as awkward. He smiles kindly to her, and his voice is as gentle and sympathetic as it had been when he had encouraged her on the train after that messy surgery. ]

I know. But I still feel that I should apologize for not being here to help. I may not truly be your butler, but even that temporary pledge was quite serious!

[ He gives her hand an encouraging little squeeze, but he lowers his hand from hers. ]

How are you?

[ He'll ask her first before he'll point it out. It'll be a bit rude, so it'd be better to coax her into just asking for his assistance... ]

[She wouldn't argue about the nature of whether he should apologize or not, she let it go just like she let go of his hand, tucking it back into her lap. He was a sight for sore eyes just as much a reminder of everything she'd left behind in her own world.

Everything painful. A stabbing pain in her chest to be unable to run from the all too recent news that her entire life had been a lie. That she didn't know if Wolfram would truly be alright. That she'd done something terrible, and though there was an entire corner of her desk full of scribbles and notes and half-drawn "magic circles", she wasn't anywhere near a solution, the cure Ciel had inspired her to work for in order to erase her unwitting sin.

Her gaze fell to her lap, to her hands, frustrated with herself as much as the situation they found themselves in.]

I have been better- but more importantly, there are several allies of this ALASTAIR who are currently under threat of execution.

[Which made it even easier to deflect from herself.]

It will be good to be able to count on your skills in these dire times.

[ The deflection isn't surprising, so he'll let it go for now. After all, it is sort of a secondary issue when compared to what she herself brings up. He can accept a mission easily enough (or at least, he can on the surface), because if they were true to his word, then accomplishing what was asked of him as a "recruit" was his only priority here. And to that effect, the scene becomes a bit more familiar. He smiles, understanding and kind. ]

I have heard a bit of it. So of course I will lend my skill where I see fit.

[ His expression shifts, seemingly to one that's quite serious and sincere. ]

It should come as no surprise, but I only wish to return to the young master's side. I may dislike the circumstances, but with only one way before me to do so, then I must accept it. Yet I would certainly much rather put my trust in you.

[ So here is where it becomes truly familiar, since he bows his head, once again deferential. Yet this time rather than bearing the scars of venturing into forbidden woods filled with a poisonous gas, his face bears no injury. ]

For that sake, I will do anything you wish of me until I can be at the young master's side once more. So, please. Direct me as you wish, Master Sullivan.

[To return to Ciel's side. Of course. To their world. The world where she wasn't a witch anymore, the world where her entire life had been a lie, leaving her with only a single person she'd grown up with who had been truthful with her- who she hoped would live through the night.

That world. Where they were trying to return to through service to ALASTAIR.

Of course.]

Your service will be most appreciated, Sebastian. Raise your head.

[Her voice was somber, low, even as she tried to keep her fears unstated, her expression serious. It wasn't the time for anything but their "mission".]

The one who has been assisting me in Wolfram's absence is one of those imprisoned. Has ALASTAIR briefed you properly on our situation?

[ As directed, he does raise his head, but his expression shifts quickly to one that's more thoughtful at her question. ]

I would not say "properly," no. I know of the basics of what we are to undertake, but I would appreciate more.

[ He always would. He's the sort of person to truly dig up every piece of information possible before he acts, though he at least realizes this isn't always possible. Such is the struggle of being a perfectionist, gosh. ]

I would appreciate whatever you could tell me.

[Sieglinde's opinion of ALASTAIR's organizational skills are not rising from the dung pile any time soon. Her brow furrows in frustration, fingers tightening on her knees before she takes a hand to the bridge of her nose, thinking of where to begin.]

I myself am not as well informed as I would appreciate-

[A direct consequence to her usual caretaker being imprisoned- though she had undertaken the arduous journey to the prison, once infection had set in she'd been largely forced to remain within the four walls Sebastian found himself in now.]

But this "Order" which opposes the government of Chantes had a meeting of their interrupted, at which several ALASTAIR members were in attendance to gather information. It is my understanding that any even in the remote vicinity were swept up in the arrests- and the sentence of execution without trial.

[The horror tales she'd grown up on, the witch trials, torture, grisly death, had haunted her fears of what the prisoners were being subject to- and she wasn't far off.]

I suppose that is how these sorts of things tend to go...

[ Sebastian murmurs quietly to himself, since his thoughts actually aren't too far from her own. Yet where the injustice of trials of witchcraft were little more than stories for Sieglinde, Sebastian had witnessed them himself. Though he feels as little for those as he does now, truthfully. In this case, it's just an obstacle to be overcome, but this at least means that Sebastian gives it his full attention and consideration. ]

I understand. That is... troubling, to put it lightly. But I suppose there is no other option but to accept the offer for infiltration. Do you trust their intentions? Arthur's, I mean.

I do not.

[That answer was immediate, at least, and firm, enough to lift her gaze from her knees. Once, not so long ago at all, she might have been naive enough to trust him, (still was naive enough for some things), but she'd learned quite a lot in a short time about lying. About ways to use words to bend the truth, and hide, and hurt.]

If his brother truly is the one who vanished the light of the sun from this land, he cannot be allowed to slip free, either- I believe they desire to free their comrades, but I cannot say it is motivated only by concern for their wellbeing.

[What if this Michel escaped and could conjure up even more powerful spells- a summoning, perhaps, of the dreadful Chimera that had once burned into the cobblestones when she'd first arrived.]

... But we must work together. For now. Unless I can locate the anchors to the barrier on the prison without their aid.

[That was true.]

Understood.

[ Sebastian isn't exactly naturally trusting, so asking Sieglinde her opinion certainly sets his bearings better. Considering she is, it assures him that Arthur is definitely not to be trusted in the slightest. Most likely, at least. While he'll give some allowance, anyone that works against their little mission here is quite the problem, so far as Sebastian is concerned.

He considers asking more, but he'll punctuate that conversation with something else he considers quite important. He still looks and sounds serious, but at this point, he starts to rise. He's slipping into the role of caretaker over servant, after all, so he wouldn't like to give her the impression that he can be ordered around completely. Just, you know. Mostly. ]

...Forgive me if this is blunt, Master Sullivan. There is another matter that we must address before that, though.

[ He inclines his head towards her feet, and though he knows very little of her condition beyond what Lau had told them, he can certainly make a guess. ]

I take it you have been trying to walk on your own as of late?

[Though she gave no indication of displeasure at his decision to rise to his feet, the mention of her own made her pale ever so slightly, stiffen up in turn. The feet that she'd once taken pride in, that she'd gone through so much pain for...

It had been difficult to tend them since her arrival to this place, because it was difficult to even look at them- a reminder of just how blind she'd been, how ignorant, how-]

It has been unavoidable in our current situation.

[What with the one who actually did help her normally and... a good number of their more capable menfolk in prison. She'd walked more in the last few days than she'd ever in her life- and farther, too, not the manageable distances between her desk and bed, or the chair to the table. No, down the steep stairs, through the market, towards the city center, to the jail- rinse, repeat.

- That couldn't be blamed for all of it, however, and she knew that, expression tightening with a furrow in her brow, a hard set to her jaw. She'd not used to be ashamed of it, but she was now, of how she'd accepted the story she was told. Accepted her own hobbling.]

And there are aspects of upkeep that I do not have the strength to carry out.

[It was a little difficult to unfold your own broken feet, and even though her companion in this place had possessed the physical ability... she hadn't the courage to ask.]

[ He nods in understanding, and his expression turns gentle, since that's what he knows he should convey. There's of course nothing close to a genuine sentiment there, but he smiles kindly as he reaches out to place a hand on her shoulder for comfort. ]

Excuse me. I did not ask to criticize, since I certainly understand the necessity.

[ And he does. What other choice would she have, really? Though he would certainly have preferred that she not walk at all and let things get to this state, he also knows that this is an expectation he couldn't hope to enforce. ]

I realize that it is asking quite a bit of you, but will you allow me to tend to you for now, Master Sullivan? I may not be Wolfram, but I will certainly do my best to make sure that you are as healthy and happy as possible.

[ It's what he's meant to do. Ciel would be beyond displeased if the girl was too injured or sick to actually go have tea with her Majesty. He has no doubts of that, but he can wrap their ulterior motives in a shroud of kind, gentle, and deceptive concern. ]

Please, do not hesitate to rely on me from now on.

[She almost winces at the hand on her shoulder- though in the end she only hung her head slightly. A masochistic part of her that she couldn't quite acknowledge almost thought she deserved it, something this disgusting. She'd been so blind, she'd created a poisonous gas far more powerful than the mustard gas her mother had worked on... It wasn't a rational feeling, and she knew of course that it wasn't her fault, not really-

But it sometimes felt, when she looked down at her tiny heels peeking out from the hem of her gown, that it was something of punishment for her sins, when it had used to be a symbol of pride. Pride in ignorance.]

... Your assistance would be most appreciated.

[And it would, truly, despite the furrow in her brow. She swiveled in her chair, everything arranged carefully to be within arms reach from a surface she could balance on, despite how chaotic her rooms appeared. Two beds, desk, table, chair all surrounded by a loose ring of items. Picking through her supplies, there was a good reason she'd targeted the somewhat aromatic (noxious, depending on the delicacy of your nose) rooms above an apothecary, she managed to put together a small pile. Bandages, a salve of her own make, a bowl that she began filling with dried herbs, a knife-

Though she had insulted Wolfram by constantly praising Sebastian when he'd been in her service... She'd never allowed anyone but Wolf to attend to her this way before, and even she could sometimes see through the stoic expression he put on during it.]

I can guide you through the process.

[ Sebastian nods obediently, and he patiently waits for Sieglinde to prepare everything that will be needed. He is quite ignorant to this process, since even a demon was hardly all-knowing. But he does watch what she does with a subtly sharp attention. He may not know everything, but he does remember everything, so she'll never have to go through this process again.

He lets her gather things without comment, but once she speaks of guiding him through the process, his attention is back on her instead of what she's doing. ]

Thank you. It is something I am not familiar with, after all.

[ He looks at some of the materials, and assuming that it's likely not an easy process (for her, at least), he does add: ]

...And please. Let me know if I do even a single thing wrong, or if we must pause for a moment.

[Once Sieglinde is finished with the concoction in her bowl, a mix of salty-smelling water and herbs that the educated would know possessed properties to ease inflammation as well as a more chemical smelling debridement solution from a vial, she held out the bowl to Sebastian somewhat tentatively- though she did make an effort to appear unphased by it.

The acceptance that she would have to look at them. Let him tend them. He wasn't Wolfram, like he said. He didn't know how and she'd have to look to make sure he did it correctly, and he didn't know her like Wolfram did, didn't know the subtleties to expression and how she hid her winces to know when she was in pain... And how to know which of those pains were the ones he had to pay attention to and which were the ones he was supposed to ignore, kneading broken bones and setting them back in their macabre place.]

- first you'll need remove the bandages and use this as a soak.

[But the first step was easy, and it allowed her time to prepare herself, to muster the courage it actually took to confront what had gradually become a symbol of everything that had been painful in her life.]

[ He takes the bowl from her once it's prepared, then sets it on the floor in front of her. He kneels again on one knee, always perfect and knightly even in a situation like this. In a way, he was the ideal person to tend to her, since he was one of the few that would do what was necessary without hesitating so that she would be well. He wouldn't be cowed by the grotesquely dainty feet, and that's clear when he takes one of her feet gently into his hand.

It really is tiny, he thinks. He's remembers the Chinese prince that had been so fixated on this, and with mild, distant amusement, he does think that Sieglinde's tiny feet would have surely fit into those shoes. The thought of that is almost nostalgic, but he manages to temper the smile that nearly comes forth with the gravity of the situation.

He starts to unwrap the bandages around her foot deftly, though as he works, he knows that some sort of distraction may be a good thing. This will take time for him to do this carefully for both feet, after all. He may as well soothe her mind with stories in the meantime. ]

...While I do this, perhaps we should speak so that your mind can be elsewhere? I know it is a bit late, since you have seen quite a bit of the outside world by now, but I could perhaps tell a story or two, or explain anything you might be curious about.

[This was the easy part.

She knew that, but she was still more tense than she should be, more nervous, forcing herself to look down as he unwrapped the bandages that covered her feet and up her leg, the tighter, thicker layer beneath from ankle over broken arch to folded in toes that actually bound them in shape. Even knowing that next to Wolfram Sebastian would be the best choice she knew of, (after all, Masamune had been taking care of her, but she'd never asked him to do this-), she still couldn't be totally at ease.

His offer to talk is a wanted distraction- and the soak would take time, no matter what.]

... It doesn't quite feel like the outside world. Not truly.

[After all, the way this Chantes was ruled, the architecture, the technology available... It actually aligned quite properly with how she'd been raised, as if she'd left her village only to find the outside world just as antiquated- and just as fearful. But it was werewolves there, the sun and goblins here.]

... Do you know much of goblins?

[They were real here, after all.]

Ah, I imagine it would not...

[ He trails off idly as he works, since that's true enough. This fantastical world is more like her world, and he only realizes that once she's phrased it that way. So instead, he continues smoothly onto the more fanciful topic here. At least his work is gentle, almost ghostlike in how he unwraps those bandages to avoid causing her any pain at all. He's the perfect butler and caretaker, through and through, which is also why his story is probably immediately meant to catch her attention. ]

I do know of a few tales, yes. I cannot promise that they would be applicable here, mind you, but I have heard some tales in my time. [ ...to put it lightly ] The tale of Gwynn ap Nudd is an interesting one. He was said to be a king of the Tylwyth Teg, the supernatural creatures of the Welsh. There are quite a few tales about him, from joining King Arthur to participating in the infamous Wild Hunts.

Whether he is truly a goblin or not, ah, well... That is a bit upfor debate. But he is certainly one of the fair folk, and quite the warrior, at that. Goblins have gotten a reputation of being greedy, malicious creatures, but in very early tales, that is not quite the case.

[It's easy not to feel his movements, gentle and airy as they were, but she couldn't not see them- not now, once she'd started and her gaze was riveted over the layers of skirt and lace at the feet beneath. Something terrible you couldn't really look away from- though occasionally she couldn't help a small shiver of nerves.]

How were they described then?

[She thinks she knows the answer- or rather, an answer, but instead of letting her pride win and give into a brag, she asked. Tried to be humble if only because it would keep him talking, keep the distraction going.]

Well, in this specific case, the king was described as a great warrior with a blackened face, though little more was said for that... The fair folk are often human enough in appearance, though notably of shorter stature. They often use magic, for they are far more attuned to such things as well.

[ If nothing else, his voice is captivating, since story-telling is something he excels at. He is trying to draw her into the story instead of his work. This particular talent of his was sometimes called the demon's whisper, though he'd always laughed at the idea. It was really no magic like what he was speaking of, but he's just an excellent speaker and story-teller. ]

Long ago, these creatures were said to be more common. All sorts of magical beings apparently lived more widely in the world, whether humans knew of them or not. Fairies, goblins, demons, [ heh ] all sorts of creatures were given much freer passage to the realm of humans. But over time, that bridge weakened. Now they all seem to be little more than myth, and yet we meet them here.

[ He's cleverly teasing at the truth of his existence, since he can't help himself, of course. It's not as if Sieglinde would know that he's actually referring to two out of three there. ]

Though I suppose I have always found it curious that goblins are so often portrayed as something closer to demons than other supernatural creatures. That was something that never quite seemed fitting, since their crime at worst as a whole tends to be mischief.

Because the encroachment of the humans interfered with the miasma such creatures need to survive in our world.

[Her voice was distant, sullen as she repeated the lines she'd memorized, one of the key components of the Green Witch legend that had kept her imprisoned for so many years. Kept her working and striving for a way to produce "miasma" and allow the werewolves their reward for guarding her ancestors all those generations. It had been revealed to her as false, a construction of a "mother" and "government" she couldn't begin to understand...

But then she was here. Magic was real, and goblins existed, and she couldn't know what was false or true any longer. It had made it easy for her to continue living her life simply, as if had never been a lie at all. She could be the Green Witch here, and no one questioned it.

Sebastian knew the truth, though. He knew her life was fake, and it meant she couldn't pretend in front of him. For half a moment, she almost even wished he hadn't come, hadn't arrived to break the illusion she was living in- but she knew just as well that was weak of her. Cowardly, even, and it made her look even more pensive, frown deepening as he gently handled her mangled feet.]

... The humans here claim that the goblins undertake blood sacrifice to their God. It may go behind mischief in this world.

[ The miasma is something he doesn't speak to at all and for several reasons. The largest is that he knows where her thoughts are on that, and he doesn't want to exacerbate what she's thinking and feeling. Though it's not something he could feel himself, he objectively understands how a human would respond to such an event. In fact, it's the sort of thing he understands very well, since it's the unique sort of tragedy that he's especially attuned to being what he is.

Sebastian does have to wonder to himself what Ciel may have said to her. Their situations weren't dissimilar, after all. They were both children trapped in cages, and a great sacrifice was needed to escape them. For Sieglinde, it was her entire village, because there certainly wasn't a single person that remained. He had killed most of them himself, and taken an especially sweet, sadistic pleasure in killing her mother in particular. She had her freedom, but now she unknowingly placed her trust in monsters. There's an irony in that as he finishes unwrapping one foot and gently sets it in the water to soak before he starts to unravel the other.

As for Ciel's sacrifice and consequences... Well. That was why Sebastian "loyally" stayed at his side. Sieglinde's sacrifice had brought her a painful truth. Ciel's only brought painful lies. And that difference was delicious.

His silence seems to be thoughtful for the idea of the miasma, which is far from the truth of what he's quietly thinking over. But when she speaks of the goblins more, that certainly catches his attention, and he glances back up to her, though only briefly, since he busies himself with the work at hand. ]

Blood sacrifice? That is... [ He makes a thoughtful noise ] Well, I do not always trust human opinions on spreading that kind of information. We both know how that can go when it is not true... Is there anything you know of that may corroborate that?

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