John Doe (
dies_irate) wrote in
singillatim2025-03-02 01:08 pm
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open | chapter 1 | march catch-all
« Who: John Doe and you!
« What: John makes his way to Milton
« When: March! Starting early March! Prompts to be added as needed!
« Where: Woods, Milton, and in between
« Content Warnings: none so far!
John hadn't liked the castle, even after their host had stopped being a secretive fucking asshole, but he certainly liked it better than whatever fucking cave he wakes up in. The first reason is because it's cold as hell. Or. Maybe not hell, but it is extremely goddamn cold. The second is that somehow, somehow, he is not where he is supposed to be in a much more disorienting fashion than any other: he is not within Arthur Lester. He is in a body, a body that feels like his body, that has a collection of limbs and pieces that feel like they belong to him and, from his limited ability to look at it, looks the way he feels like he ought to look. The gold of the robes, the matte black of his skin and hair and claws, the way his right arm seems whole until the individual tentacles that form it separate and stretch like spread fingers-
Legs are new. He can't say he's a fan, especially these that don't even have toes like he'd gotten used to. It takes grabbing a freezing cold stone to push himself up, hooves skittering across the uneven floor at first before finally finding a catch, and then he's hauling himself into an upright position to start really looking around.
"Hel-"
A pause before he puts his claw to his throat. What a sentence that is: his claw, his throat. But more importantly, is that what he sounds like out loud? Fuck, that's weird. Okay.
"Hello! Arthur!?" A pause before- "...Yorick?"
That's what makes him look around, or rather pat down his robes to find the items that had apparently come here with him. The coin is surprising, given where he'd last seen it. The beastiary is a boon, one he's glad not to have lost. But the skull on it's chain, dead and lifeless, no yapping to be heard...
"Shit."
It's not the most auspicious start to a day, but it's also not the worst that he's had. After all, there are trees and snow and rocks, pieces of the real and physical world. It doesn't look like Addison to him, from what he remembers of that place, but it is at least Somewhere. Not the Dark World. Not the Dreamlands, or so he hopes.
It means he needs to get walking, try and find people, or at least a warmer place to stay. As such, he'll set off into the forest, looking for signs of life, movement, and always, always Arthur.
Feel free to find him on the way. ...he'd appreciate if you didn't try to kill him, but he won't be surprised if it happens.
It's been a long, cold, unfortunate slog, the only benefit of which is the fact that he can wear with pride the 100% success rate at not falling into holes during his first sojourn on legs. It's the sort of thing that he holds to himself as tight as his robes against the frigid temperatures and the rising dark, something to tell Arthur about when he gets back to him.
Because he is getting back to him. That is not up for debate. It's just a matter of how long it'll take him to get there.
He sees the houses, avoids those that are dark and heads towards the greatest source of light. He'd considered trying to sneak around, gather information, learn what this place is and who lives here and what they might do to him if they saw him. But he also knows how clumsy he is in this new body of his, and large, and cold, and that someone caught sneaking would no doubt be thought of as a sneak. Instead, he decides to go (tentatively) for the larger gamble: he heads for the main area of town, the brightest light, the most people. He'll walk slow, gauge reactions, see if he can get someone to trust him at least far enough to let him get near a fire or perhaps provide some food (hunger? sucks) before he gives up, runs, and seeks some other place to go.
He remembers 'hands up' from those police on the island and readies his arms to put them up if asked.
Once more with feeling and in he goes.
It takes a bit of coaxing, and more than a bit of looking out, but John does eventually come in from the cold. They head for the community hall, since the fire is always going there and John's been out in the wilds for quite a few hours. He'll finally get a chance to rest and soak in some warmth, his arms wrapped firmly around Arthur Lester now that they've been reunited. The size difference is a little funny but hopefully the giant non-human figure looks significantly less terrifying while shamelessly cuddling someone who seems just as glad to be there as he is. (The vibe is a lot more My-Neighbor-JohnDoedoe than anything else.)
Feel free to come by and say hi. He doesn't bite!
Once John's here, he's... well, he's here. He can be found with Arthur or without Arthur, often in their home on Thompson (neatening up) or in the community hall, getting a feel for...
Everything, frankly.
He's new to this place, he's new to having a body, he's new to clothes (namely the largest coat he could find and a heavy blanket used as a kilt) and food. He's new to people seeing him, acknowledging him, speaking to him. He's new to being able to pick up a book by himself, being by himself in the physical world. He's new to fatigue. He's new to all of these senses that are both more vibrant and duller than what he might have had.
So if you catch him looking confused or looking around, or if he points at himself and looks to make sure you're talking to him, well... he's not fucking with you. This is all a lot to deal with.
It's as they're settling down in their home (their home!) in the loft area that John starts feeling the pull on his eyelids, the way his limbs are heavy and the urge to get comfortable becomes incredibly strong.
"Arthur... what's-"
[ Return player! New character! As you can see, he's a very obvious non-human! If you want to chat, or an individual starter,
yarnzipan or the same on discord works just fine! ]
« What: John makes his way to Milton
« When: March! Starting early March! Prompts to be added as needed!
« Where: Woods, Milton, and in between
« Content Warnings: none so far!
[ i. The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep... [journey to Milton] ]
John hadn't liked the castle, even after their host had stopped being a secretive fucking asshole, but he certainly liked it better than whatever fucking cave he wakes up in. The first reason is because it's cold as hell. Or. Maybe not hell, but it is extremely goddamn cold. The second is that somehow, somehow, he is not where he is supposed to be in a much more disorienting fashion than any other: he is not within Arthur Lester. He is in a body, a body that feels like his body, that has a collection of limbs and pieces that feel like they belong to him and, from his limited ability to look at it, looks the way he feels like he ought to look. The gold of the robes, the matte black of his skin and hair and claws, the way his right arm seems whole until the individual tentacles that form it separate and stretch like spread fingers-
Legs are new. He can't say he's a fan, especially these that don't even have toes like he'd gotten used to. It takes grabbing a freezing cold stone to push himself up, hooves skittering across the uneven floor at first before finally finding a catch, and then he's hauling himself into an upright position to start really looking around.
"Hel-"
A pause before he puts his claw to his throat. What a sentence that is: his claw, his throat. But more importantly, is that what he sounds like out loud? Fuck, that's weird. Okay.
"Hello! Arthur!?" A pause before- "...Yorick?"
That's what makes him look around, or rather pat down his robes to find the items that had apparently come here with him. The coin is surprising, given where he'd last seen it. The beastiary is a boon, one he's glad not to have lost. But the skull on it's chain, dead and lifeless, no yapping to be heard...
"Shit."
It's not the most auspicious start to a day, but it's also not the worst that he's had. After all, there are trees and snow and rocks, pieces of the real and physical world. It doesn't look like Addison to him, from what he remembers of that place, but it is at least Somewhere. Not the Dark World. Not the Dreamlands, or so he hopes.
It means he needs to get walking, try and find people, or at least a warmer place to stay. As such, he'll set off into the forest, looking for signs of life, movement, and always, always Arthur.
Feel free to find him on the way. ...he'd appreciate if you didn't try to kill him, but he won't be surprised if it happens.
[ ii. And miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep. [entering Milton] ]
It's been a long, cold, unfortunate slog, the only benefit of which is the fact that he can wear with pride the 100% success rate at not falling into holes during his first sojourn on legs. It's the sort of thing that he holds to himself as tight as his robes against the frigid temperatures and the rising dark, something to tell Arthur about when he gets back to him.
Because he is getting back to him. That is not up for debate. It's just a matter of how long it'll take him to get there.
He sees the houses, avoids those that are dark and heads towards the greatest source of light. He'd considered trying to sneak around, gather information, learn what this place is and who lives here and what they might do to him if they saw him. But he also knows how clumsy he is in this new body of his, and large, and cold, and that someone caught sneaking would no doubt be thought of as a sneak. Instead, he decides to go (tentatively) for the larger gamble: he heads for the main area of town, the brightest light, the most people. He'll walk slow, gauge reactions, see if he can get someone to trust him at least far enough to let him get near a fire or perhaps provide some food (hunger? sucks) before he gives up, runs, and seeks some other place to go.
He remembers 'hands up' from those police on the island and readies his arms to put them up if asked.
Once more with feeling and in he goes.
[ iii. From what I’ve tasted of desire / I hold with those who favor fire. [community hall fire w/Arthur] ]
It takes a bit of coaxing, and more than a bit of looking out, but John does eventually come in from the cold. They head for the community hall, since the fire is always going there and John's been out in the wilds for quite a few hours. He'll finally get a chance to rest and soak in some warmth, his arms wrapped firmly around Arthur Lester now that they've been reunited. The size difference is a little funny but hopefully the giant non-human figure looks significantly less terrifying while shamelessly cuddling someone who seems just as glad to be there as he is. (The vibe is a lot more My-Neighbor-JohnDoedoe than anything else.)
Feel free to come by and say hi. He doesn't bite!
[ iv. I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. [around Milton] ]
Once John's here, he's... well, he's here. He can be found with Arthur or without Arthur, often in their home on Thompson (neatening up) or in the community hall, getting a feel for...
Everything, frankly.
He's new to this place, he's new to having a body, he's new to clothes (namely the largest coat he could find and a heavy blanket used as a kilt) and food. He's new to people seeing him, acknowledging him, speaking to him. He's new to being able to pick up a book by himself, being by himself in the physical world. He's new to fatigue. He's new to all of these senses that are both more vibrant and duller than what he might have had.
So if you catch him looking confused or looking around, or if he points at himself and looks to make sure you're talking to him, well... he's not fucking with you. This is all a lot to deal with.
[ v. One can see what will trouble / This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is. - closed to Arthur ]
It's as they're settling down in their home (their home!) in the loft area that John starts feeling the pull on his eyelids, the way his limbs are heavy and the urge to get comfortable becomes incredibly strong.
"Arthur... what's-"
[ Return player! New character! As you can see, he's a very obvious non-human! If you want to chat, or an individual starter,
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But he doesn't look upset for it, instead giving Levi a confused smile. "Levi - hey, er. What's up?"
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The confusion only increases, honestly. He'd - not given up on the idea of more people from his world arriving, exactly, but it certainly wasn't high on his mind.
Still, he's standing to follow Levi. "Did he give his name, or - w-what does he look like?" As if he'd know on sight.
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He's starting back towards the entrance though. They'll see soon enough.
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It couldn't be. It had to be. Right? It was the only option that would want to see him.
He tries to keep pace with Levi, trying not to seem desperate, but when they're outside he can't hold himself back and rushes forward down the stairs, his gaze flicking desperately around the empty snow in front of the hall.
"John?"
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"ARTHUR!"
He won't run into the crowded square and towards the hall, not yet, but- it's pretty damn clear who it is.
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"He's, um, I-I asked him to step aside a bit..." Though he's pretty sure they'll be able to find each other quickly. With the shouting and all.
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"John!!"
And Levi is completely forgotten as Arthur abruptly bolts, with a shocking turn of speed for a man so unhealthily thin, towards that hidden voice.
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That's John.
And every inch of Arthur is wrapped in thick layers of clothes, so he doesn't realise how fucking cold John is yet; he just throws his arms around John's neck and shoulders to cuddle him, burying his face immediately in the nest of frosty yellow fabric around his neck to snuggle into his partner. His friend.
"Jesus Christ, John, h-how?" He pulls back almost immediately, though, so he can look at John. "Y-you--"
One hand comes up to cup John's jaw (mask?), the other still bracing himself. "You have a body..."
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John is far too busy at first hugging him back, holding him back, clinging to him tightly. The one arm splits into it's separate tentacles to better support him, and John needs a few moments of just sobbing Arthur's name in relief before he can even think, let alone answer. Finally-
"I don't know! I don't know, Arthur, I just- I woke up somehow and you weren't there and I was like this and it was fucking freezing-"
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But for now he pulls back a little to meet John's eyes with concern. "Jesus, John, how long have you been here?" He's immediately wriggling, pulling his gloves off so he can actually feel John's skin.
And Arthur's hands are scalding hot against John's frozen skin, but Arthur flinches, and his face crinkles immediately with concern. "John, you're freezing - w-we need to get you inside, right now!"
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...or maybe hypothermia. That's possible too. You never know.
"O-oh, okay, we- I wasn't sure if- the boy mentioned that there aren't really any people like me there, I wasn't sure if it was wise to go any closer."
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With a gesture at John's body, as he struggles his gloves back on. "Come on, let's get inside. You need to get warmed now, otherwise you might well freeze to death, I-I don't have a fire at home yet, so-"
He wiggles his legs, trying to find floor. "The community hall, come on. I was just there, it'll be fine."
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This wasn't Arkham, somehow, was it? No, that can't be. It wasn't this cold in Arkham, or even in Addison. At least, he doesn't think so. Then again, back then he'd just been an arm and that arm had been in a coat.
John will let him down before nodding to him.
"A-all right. I wasn't sure. Neither was the boy." A pause. "Do you know his name? I want to thank him at some point, for going to find you."
John might be a good two feet taller than Arthur but Arthur can move him like he's on a greased rail.
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He takes John's hands - or at least one hand, and he pauses a little at the sight of the tentacles before simply grabbing two lengths - one against his palm, the other trapped between two fingers - and tugging John back towards the community hall.
"When we're inside, we'll- talk. A-and I can get you caught up on everything here."
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"You-
"You left one for me?"
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And he lets go of John for a moment so he can, with a slightly triumphant air, rip the notice for John off the board.
"I was- worried, when I got here, when I couldn't hear you," he says, almost apologetically as he shoves it in his pocket on his way back to grab John again. "I-I didn't want you to end up here and- and not know if I was."
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"How long have you been here, Arthur? Do you- have you found out what happened? Who brought us here?"
It's always a fucking 'who'.
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"There's a being called the Darkwalker, here. It's supposed to be something that heralds the end of the world, but it keeps bringing us here instead, I-I don't understand its logic yet, but- we're trying to. Everyone who's been brought here by it, we're all trying to work together to survive this place."
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"The end of the world..." a pause, a long one, as he thinks about it. He doesn't like where his thoughts take him. It's too heavy for this walk, especially with people looking at him so strangely and most of his focus going to the strange tingling that's going on as his fingers and haunches and tentacle tips start returning feeling from the warmth. They aren't to the fire, but it's already better.
But he did notice the question Arthur dodged.
"How long have you been here, Arthur?" Long enough to have a home, after all.
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"Since September, here," he says, glancing away a little despite himself. "The calender doesn't quite line up right, but- it's been nearly six months."
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