singillatim | open | chapter 1

Entry tags:

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!

[ 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,

yarnzipan or the same on discord works just fine! ]

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Song of his soul, his voice is alive.

"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.

John had been hiding behind a shed or something, some manner of structure, but when he sees Arthur barreling his way, he immediately slips out, golden eyes wide and both arms open. Arthur is getting caught and lifted, all upper limbs wrapped around him as he lets out another sobbing cry of Arthur's name.

Definitely a happy reunion. Levi feels good that he was able to help here. "I'm glad he was the right person."

Arthur doesn't slow his roll when he sees the giant figure stepping into sight - it probably ought to, he knows logically, but after being chased by a fucking ghost bear for the last month or so, after almost freezing to death and almost forgetting John entirely, he doesn't care.

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..."

"Arthur!"

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-"

He's not needed here now and it'd just be awkward, so Levi silently slips away.

...John will find him later and thank him, both for helping him and for listening to him. He's a little overwhelmed right now, but he won't forget.

Arthur will give Levi such a big hug later as thanks.

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!"

It is scalding hot, but John doesn't really know what that means when it comes to him, or to the mechanics of the body, not really. He certainly doesn't like being cold but he's far focused on having found Arthur again to really feel it.

...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."

"H-he's right, there aren't. There's other people here that aren't human, but- not like this."

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."

There it went again: home. Arthur had a home here? Or-

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.

"Ah- right, th-that was Levi, he's been here for I think nearly two years, now, I've been here for a matter of months. Come on--"

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."

He'll combine the tentacles again into something that looks much more like an arm until it splits to accomodate holding Arthur's hand. Either way, he'll follow along behind, looking at all the buildings, any of the people he might see, and then at the commmunity hall. His eye catches on the bulletin board, and he immediately spots and it makes him stop in place.

"You-

"You left one for me?"

"What?" It takes him a moment to glance back and notice what John saw, but he blinks when he realises. "Oh- yes, that. Hold on."

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."

He nods, a little slower, and makes sure he has Arthur's hand again. He feels so exposed: it was one thing to be out in the wilds, in the dark and the cold and be by himself. It wasn't like the Dark World, but at least it was just... alone. But now, here, with people, people who could stare or talk to him, he feels curiously shy. He doesn't shrink, exactly, but he stays close.

"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'.

It'd be an outright lie to say that there's not people staring as they approach, but Arthur is fearless, and his grip on John tightens protectively.

"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."

John doesn't stop him, but he makes a note to point out that he brought the beastiary with him. Maybe there's something in there about it?

"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.

He'd been hoping to address it later, when they were alone, so he could- he doesn't know, process the fact that John is even here, rather than overload him with everything that's been happening to him.

"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."

Remember that volume control earlier?

"Six m-"

Okay, too many eyes. Jesus Christ. Uh. Quieter. He can do quieter. He's practically hissing.

"Six months?"

That was... that was longer than he'd known Arthur. It was- it was forever. The idea of them being separated for so long- what happened?

"W-what- what do you remember last? How could it be that long?"

This was a real place, not the Dark World. What the fuck?

This time his grip on John's hand is a warning, that comes with a concerned glance as well - he's got a full beard again, rather than just the mustache, which might make the concern a little more effective - but he doesn't stop leading him towards the fire.

"The last thing I remember-" and his own voice is low and wary despite himself, mostly just not wanting to be overheard. "-was... dying in the hag's caves. O-or, well... m-maybe it was... coming back. I don't know. Here, here--"

Normal volume there, so he can tug John the final stretch towards the fire - there's no-one sitting there, ever since Arthur's beeline became obvious, so he can tug John into the gap between the chairs and the fire. "Come and sit, John."

His own eyes flash in irritation back; sorry! He's never been heard by other people before, okay?! 'Volume' is a new problem, right up there with legs and cold and his limbs all feeling heavy and slow.

Tired, John, you're tired. Ugh.

For now, looking clearly frustrated, he'll let Arthur guide him over to a seat near the fire, let his limbs start to absorb the heat and defrost. He's not letting go of Arthur, though. Far from it.

"That was- that was over a week ago for me," and he sounds both genuinely sad about the events and confused. Quiet, since he also doesn't want to be over heard. He glances around to make sure people have stopped looking before turning back to Arthur. "I killed the hag, and we revived you with her talisman. Then we escaped, though... not without almost drowning since you didn't listen to me again." Yeah, not skipping mentioning that one. "And we came out near a village. Everyone in the village was gone, so we made a fire outside, not unlike this one."

Edited 2025-03-03 13:51 (UTC)

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open | chapter 1 | march catch-all

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