Misao woke up and the first thing they knew was that they weren't in their own bed. They don't remember how they got here, and they're not really sure where 'here' is.
It smells of mechanical systems and oil, and there's a harsh light coming under the door. They're alone in the room, and it looks like a infirmary rather than a guest-house. It's sparsely furnished with a bare minimum of furniture, all very clean and very utilitarian.
Misao feels sluggish, as if someone had slipped something into their drink. Whoever did this probably didn't expect them to wake so soon.
For a moment, emotions course through Misao, flooding them like a tidal wave. Confusion. Panic. Fear. Anger. Rage. All the questions: Who did this? Why? How? How *dare* they? Then Misao pulls themself together, thrusts the emotions away, and breathes to restore their calm.
During all this, Misao has not moved. Now they wait, quietly, taking in a welter of unfamiliar sensations: touch, sound, smell. Once they are sure they are alone, they will open their eyes, just slightly, to see what they can see. Misao is totally alert, and totally ready to act, just as soon as they figure out what it is they need to do.
Misao's breath becomes calm in quiet of the room. The sheets are rough and smell clean, with a touch of disinfectant. The room has a window, and in that direction, the room is colder. There is a field or lawn of some sort, currently blanketed by a thick layer of snow, and beyond it is a woods. There's no way of telling how far it stretches.
There are three fairly obvious conclusions that Misao arrives at, to wit:
1) They are not in Hikariguni.
2) They have been removed without Misao's knowledge or permission.
3) Whoever has done this, does not want Misao dead, at least immediately.
Conclusions 1 and 2 suggest an enemy. Conclusion 3 suggests room for negotiation... or escape.
Misao's hearing has always been better than anyone they knew, and was usually a surprise to others. Their father had told them to use this to their advantage and not reveal it unless it gave them advantage to do so. It was their birthright, he'd stressed, although he hadn't been very forthcoming on what, exactly, that meant.
He also warned them to be wary of others who shared it. They were the only true competition, he'd said.
The sounds in the corridor are remarkably normal; soft leather shoes walking on a hard stone floor. It's followed by someone fumbling with the door.
As soon as Misao hears external sounds, they quickly, carefully, and above all else, gracefully, search in their sleeves and sash. Is the packet of special pictures, the legacy of Misao's father, in the sleeve? Is the tanto, the gift of Misao's mentor, in the sash?
Neither is where they expect it to be.
After the search, whatever the result, Misao goes limp on the cot, their eyes slitted open towards the door. If they are about to be attacked, they are as ready as they can be. If not... then negotiations ought to be interesting.
The door opens and a young woman walks in wearing loose fitting trousers and a light shirt of simple cotton. Under the harsh electric lights in the hallway, her skin looks green.
"Well, you're awake early. I'm Nurse Pleasance, your care lead. How are you feeling this morning?"
Misao sits up slowly, careful to make no sudden moves that might be interpreted as a threat. They place their feet solidly on the floor, their hands in their lap, and regard the woman with wary politeness.
"We meet for the first time. I am of Hikariguni, the child of Kimiko-dono. My name is Misao. I am well. Are you well?"
What the woman sees is a slight, but not fragile woman, appearing to be in her late 20s. Her skin appears to be grayish blue in color, with blue lips and blue eyes. Misao's long black hair contains streaks of blue and silver. She is wearing a simple night robe of grey, belted with a dark blue sash and white tabi. With her hands folded in her lap, Misao looks harmless.
The woman barely looks at Misao, but she does spare them a smile as she goes about her tasks. "Glad you're feeling better. I'll make sure the doctor knows you're awake." Nurse Pleasance opens the curtains, but does not open the window. Misao sees the first light of dawn reflecting off of a field of untouched snow. Beyond it is a forest's edge.
The sparse furnishings in the room would be out of place in Hikariguni, but seem functional enough. Even the style of the window fittings is different.
Nurse Pleasance opens one of the cabinets and it's clearly filled with medical supplies. She pulls out a thin glass tube from a container that holds several such and smells of medicine. "I need to take your pulse and temperature. Open your mouth and let me have your wrist, please."
Misao does not move to comply, but neither do they move away. They speak politely, but firmly, "May I speak to the doctor, first, please?"
Nurse Pleasance looks cross, but puts on a fake smile. "Of course you can, honey. He normally doesn't arrive this early, though. I just need to take your temperature, so the doctor knows where to start. It's not going to hurt, I promise."
Misao nods calmly. They can do fake politeness too. In fact, they can do it better.
"Good, I am glad to hear it. Then we will wait for the doctor. Thank you very much. If there is nothing more, you may go now."
Misao's manner is polite, even gentle, but firm. It is obviously a dismissal.
The Nurse looks like she's going to argue, and then doesn't. She pulls a tablet from her pocket and a writes something Misao can't see on it with a stylus. "I'll let the Doctor know you are awake and have questions." She turns and leaves, her footsteps sounding somehow annoyed.
In the silence after the footsteps fade, Misao hears some sort of tapping against the wall beside her bed, as if someone wishes to get her attention.
That someone has succeeded, then. Misao listens, trying to pick out if there is any pattern to the taps that makes sense to them. If there is, Misao taps back.
Definitely a pattern. After they reply, a voice comes from the heating register near the floor. It's very soft and perhaps no one would be able to hear it but Misao themselves.
"Can you hear me? If you're alone, we can talk, otherwise knock twice."
Misao looks around the room. It's basically pre-rolling-bed hospital furniture: mattress on a metal frame painted white, utilitarian locked cabinet with medical supplies, a nightstand which is empty, curtains, in industrial beige. A closet with a curtain has spare linens and no clothes or shoes, and there's a cupboard with bedpans in it.
Misao frowns. NOT a good beginning for an escape. Still, they have trained with surujin, which seems to be the only option here. Quickly, and as far as possible, quietly, they move to block the door. The cot first, lengthwise, braced from behind by the locked cabinet. The nightstand and cupboard on top of the cot. While handling the cabinet, Misao investigates to see if there is any possibility of breaking it open.
Possibly, but not quietly. Her brief glance in when the nurse took out the thermometer suggests that there's probably nothing highly secure in there. Towels, bandages, tongue depressors. She could brute force it open, but probably not to much gain.
Then Misao doesn't try.
Finally, Misao sits down with a couple of sheets and bedpans near the grate and speaks quietly.
"I apologize for the noise. I can talk now. We meet for the first time. I am of Hikariguni, the child of Kimiko-dono. My name is Misao. I am well. Are you well?"
While speaking, Misao is quickly ripping, twisting, braiding, and twining the sheets to form a makeshift rope of the correct length. At each end they leave large sections which are wrapped multiple times and secured around a bedpan. Misao is making a surujin.
A bedpan isn't as good as a spike, but it's got heft and could hit someone hard. Misao thinks it will work if they need it, but it isn't ideal for the task.
"Well met, Misao of Hikariguni. I am Hugh De Etana. We heard the guards talking about 'a new prisoner'. I heard you speaking with Nurse Hatchetface. Are you in danger? It's not exactly safe in this place."
He sighs. "I'm in a cell with several people I'm supposed to protect, and one of them is hurt, which is why I haven't broken out of this place. Do you know what our captors want?"
Misao thinks Hugh is male. And he's speaking the language their father taught them. Thari. The nurse was not.
Thari definitely gets Misao's attention.
"I am not currently in danger, thank you for asking. I imagine that I will be when our captors decide that I am not worth the trouble of persuading. No, I do not know what they want, other than my 'temperature' and 'pulse'." Misao uses those words awkwardly. "I am disinclined to cooperate.
"How many people are with you? What is the type of injury? Do you know what our captors want?"
"Seven, in three cells, plus some strangers a few doors down. And we're missing both our injured archivist and Brother Tomat. I've taken a look for them, but haven't found them. I don't think they know who we are, but they've been holding us waiting on some higher up. I want to see who that is and what he's doing, so I haven't pressed the question of escaping.
"They seem very excited to have you. They don't think you're human."
Misao's mouth twists and their voice now has a shade of anger in it. "What does 'being human' matter? What is 'human' anyway?" These are obviously rhetorical questions to Misao and they don't wait for an answer. "What should I expect that they will do about it?" This question is obviously NOT rhetorical.
Misao can't really hear Hugh shrug, but it feels as if he must have. "Take samples, put you in a cage, possibly bargain with you. If you were to play your cards right, worship you and have you lead them to war against Amber." His voice sounds like he's frowning. "I wouldn't recommend the latter, even if they make a very good offer."
Misao has no idea what the last part even means, so they shrug as well.
"Do you know where they might have taken my weapon? And do you have any other recommendations?" are their final two questions.
"If they are smart, they've sent it out of this shadow. If they aren't sure if you're really who they think you are, they'll keep it safe, probably in a lab or safe somewhere. I haven't ransacked their offices yet." It sounds as if he's smiling. "I don't know enough of this situation or your situation to give more than generalities. Don't let them take samples, and consider taking important members of the cult hostage. They are overly-attached to their leaders.
"I'm going to take my people out of here, but not until I either find out what's happening, or get rescued by a magically protected squad of 17 foot long warrior tritons, which is not out of the question. If you're safe now and choose to stay, I can take you with us. If you're not safe, I can advance my timetable. And yell out if you need a rescue. I can get up there quickly."
"I am safe now. I don't see any obvious doors leading from this building. I have barricaded myself in my room as best as I can and can probably hold out for a short time when they come."
Misao pauses.
"I will gratefully take your offer, Etana-san. I would like to retrieve my weapon, and my pictures, if it can be done, as we leave."
Another pause.
"What are the marks of the leaders that I should watch for?"
"I don't know. They're probably technically monastics. Anyone called 'Father' or 'Mother', or otherwise you may just have to guess and base it on the reactions of the subordinates.
"Take care. We're a shout away, but I'd like to get all of my people back before we leave, ideally with information or hostages of our own." Misao hears a scraping and then it's silent below.
Meanwhile, Misao has continued ripping and twisting strips of bedsheet. If the bedpans are proving too cumbersome to use as weights, Misao creates tightly wrapped balls of fabric instead. With the ability to sharpen nails and teeth, this process should be close to done.
They makes the weapon they want.
If the window is close enough to the grate where Misao is sitting, they take a moment to stand up and look more closely at the surrounding terrain, evaluating escape and survival possibilities. While standing, they stretch and move their legs, preventing stiffness from building up. Then they sit back down and finish their work.
Out the window, Misao sees a broad lawn covered in snow and lined with unfamiliar hedges. In the distance there are trees. The dawn's light is redder than expected and the air is heavier, but that may be the snow. The glass is very clear and insulates the heat very well.
Since the conversational topics seem to have been exhausted, and in the absence of anything more from Etana-san, Misao quietly moves to the part of the room that would allow them the most advantage against anyone coming through the door. As they move, they begin to test their surujin. Do the weights feel balanced as the rope spins? How durable is the rope?
The weapon feels good and like it will last until something better comes along, but not forever.
Misao is also listening for returning footsteps.
There are footsteps in the hall and the door is pushed and stopped by the makeshift barricades. There's a knocking from the door. "Good Morning, it's Doctor Chew. Can you let me in? I just want to talk to you."
Misao hears other footsteps, perhaps the same ones as before, walking away.
Misao does not move to unblock the door. "We meet for the first time. I am of Hikariguni, the child of Kimiko-dono. My name is Misao. I am well. Are you well?"
These pleasantries aside, Misao adds, "I am more than happy to talk with you, Chew-isha. What do you have to say?"
"I am well, thank you for asking. But I'm also the doctor responsible for you and I'm having a little trouble checking on you at the moment." He pauses for a moment. "Did you... did you barricade yourself in? Can you tell me why? Did someone threaten you?" If he is faking sincerity, he's doing it reasonably well.
Out the window, the sun is just over the treeline and glinting off the snow. It's nearly blinding, but doesn't seem like it's enough to cause the snow to melt. But the sky is clear and it doesn't look like more snow is coming immediately. It's picturesque, but there's no indication of how far or near other places might be.
"No, Chew-isha, no one has threatened me. However, I cannot fail to notice that I am in a place that is not the place where I went to sleep last night. I was removed from my home without my knowledge or consent. You will forgive me if I do not trust you... or this place."
Misao pauses.
"As for checking on me, it would seem to me that this is in fact what you are doing. And that the barrier between us is no obstacle to our continued conversation. So, please, what is it that you wanted to ask me?"
"Well, if you're all right, we'll release you from our hospital, but according to this," he says, opening what sounds like some kind of folder, "you were brought here unconscious after some sort of altercation. I'd like to find out from you why you're here, and if you need medical assistance, and ideally if you're going to do anything dangerous to yourself or my staff. And if we can agree on something that won't get us both arrested, I can let you leave.
"But that requires me to sign off on the release paperwork and I'm an old-fashioned doctor, the kind that likes to actually examine a patient before certifying her state." He pauses slightly. "If you'd like to leave, or to eat or any of the other things a person might want to do instead of barricading themselves in a hospital room, you'll need to open the door."
"I am well, as I have said. There was no altercation. I went to sleep in my home last night, and awoke here. I am in no need of medical assistance.
"As for why I am here, I would like to know that, as well. I imagine you know better than I.
"As for being dangerous, that, too, it would seem, is up to you, as well. If you want my cooperation, you will return my weapon and my pictures. After that, I will open the door."
Misao starts to swing the surujin again, this time in small, controlled circles, creating momentum but not attacking. At the same time, they begin to concentrate upon the form of the oni: strong, tireless, swift, agile. Red-skinned, golden-eyed, sharp-horned, many-clawed. The form of the oni had helped Misao defend Hikariguni from the Kurogawa, the Black River. Now Misao holds it in their mind, ready to shift to fighting mode at a moment's notice.
Misao is ready. They suspect there are other people outside the door with Chew-isha.
He speaks quietly to someone else. "I don't have time for this. Bring them to my office when they're ready to cooperate."
"That's a very negative attitude towards people who only want to help. Anything you were brought in with is in the drawer of the cabinet you're blocking the door with." Misao knows the cabinet is empty. "We can help you with your feelings of persecution and your memory issues. But not through a slit in the door and not when you're demanding weapons. I'm going to leave now, but there will be someone outside the door when you're ready to open up to let us give you an examination." He pauses. "Maybe you should take a nap. I always feel better after a nap."
The slapping sounds of his shoes on the stone starts away.
Outright lies. So. Definitely not trustworthy.
Misao reaches out from behind the door and deftly but firmly shuts it again. Then they shift the furniture back into position. Then they retrieve any remaining bedpans and sheets. If there are curtains on the window, Misao draws them. If not, they try to use a sheet to block the view from outside. The remaining sheets are torn and used to reinforce the barricade, except for one piece which Misao wets and reserves for use as a mask. The bedpans are placed into positions where they will provide obstacles for anyone coming through the door.
Then Misao goes back to the vent. "Etana-san," they call, "are you still there?"
There are some noises coming from the other room: metallic sounds. It takes him a moment to reply. "I am, or at least I'm back. I've got our cell door open and I'm about to search for our missing man. I can come for you after that, or on the way if he's up there. What have you learned about our captors?"
Misao's voice is calm. "I have spoken to a person calling themselves Chew and claiming to be a doctor. They wanted to examine me. I refused and asked for my items as the price of my cooperation. They lied to me about where my items are and suggested that I take a nap. I am currently barricaded in my room but can break out as soon as need be."
"I would advise against napping. They may have knockout drugs. Hmm. What I'd really like is about an hour to rifle their files and see what they've taken and what they know. If this 'Doctor' is really a doctor, then he may be the one who wants to run the experiments. If they've taken any samples, we need to get them back or see them destroyed.
"I've got the broadest outlines of a plan. We'll probably have to break some eggs, and possibly guards. Eventually, I'll either want to burn this place to the ground as a lesson to them to be more cautious of who they take prisoner or use it to steal all their secrets. Maybe both. Do you know enough to find your missing valuables and start rifling their files while I cause a diversion down here? If not we'll need to swap and you'll be on diversion duty."
There are sounds coming from the rest of the building now, and clanking of pipes. Outside, the sky is actually less bright than it was the last time they looked. If Misao were to guess, they would think that it might be about to snow.
Misao suppresses the urge to roll their eyes. "I...had that impression, yes. I do not believe that I know what you would be looking for, but I can certainly cause a diversion."
Misao pauses. "My items include a tanto -- a dagger about as long as your arm from the elbow to the tip of your finger. The sheath is black lacquered wood with a pattern of gold waves. And a package wrapped in oiled silk -- red -- about as long as the tanto, and about half as wide as it is long. When you come to get me, +please identify yourself with the word "hainu". Then I will know you as an ally." Misao has Etana-san repeat the code word until his pronunciation is satisfactory.
"When would you like me to start my diversion?"
"Yes, a good idea. Although anyone who speaks Thari will be either an ally or a very dangerous person, or both." He pauses, briefly. "I'll pull the fire alarm and it will set off bells. Break out then and cause the biggest ruckus you can." He pauses. "There, I have determined that the snow will intensify, which should keep them from sending reinforcements the normal way."
A glance out the window shows that he's correct. It would be hard to navigate through the storm now, and it's getting heavier by the moment.
"Wakarimasu, Etana-san. I understand."
Misao rises and removes the bedpans from the floor, stacking them neatly to one side. Then they untie the strips of fabric from the barricade and rearrange the furniture on either side of the door. Then they retie the strips of fabric. The idea is to allow the door to open with one opening that Misao can move through, while still hampering anyone who tries to break in. Misao stations a few bedpans on top of the nightstand.
After a moment of thought, Misao shifts to the form of the honengyo... fast, slim and flexible. Their skin darkens and grows scales. Their hands and feet grow webs and small, sharp claws. Their robe changes to a keijogi, close fitting enough to avoid snagging on obstacles but loose enough to allow Misao to move easily.
Misao tucks the surujin into the sash of their keijogi and moves to a position where they can easily open the door.
As if on cue, a klaxon starts sounding. She hears noises throughout the building and people seem to be running with intention, but it's not clear if her door is even still guarded.
Misao instantly grabs a couple of bedpans in one hand. With the other, they lean forward and rapidly and gracefully pull the door open to its greatest extent. Without aiming, Misao sends the bedpans flying like frisbees through gaps in the web, to the left and right of the opening. The goal is not to hit anyone, but to make them duck and get them off balance. Then Misao dives through the opening they've prepared, rolls smoothly and is back on their feet before anyone can respond. One hand goes to their belt sash, freeing the surujin, and starting to swing it as Misao assesses the situation.
There's a clanging in the hall as one of the bedpans ricochets off a wall. There's also a different sound as the second one hits someone. It's a muted thunk, followed by a body falling against the floor.
As Misao dives through and rolls to their feet, they see an empty corridor, with a young woman in what looks like a swimming costume; iridescent shorts that resemble the scales of fish and a pair of crossed suspenders holding them up.
She's bleeding from her forehead. It's hard to tell if it's bad, because head wounds will bleed. It's unclear if she was hit by the pan or the ground.
The klaxon is getting quite loud, but it seems this wing of the building is otherwise empty. As far as Misao can immediately tell.
On closer inspection, the fallen woman has a slip of paper in her hand, with the word "hainu" written on it in Thari, the language of their father, Lucas.
Misao does not curse. They can hear Kimiko-dono's voice in their head:
"You are the Heir of Hikariguni, not some common yokai. Your speech is at all times refined and proper. Do you understand?"
Kimiko-dono had made sure Misao understood. Now, all that comes out is an exasperated sigh. "Create a diversion," Etana-san had said, then he sent someone who didn't know to duck? Misao begins to wonder if these new allies are really as competent as Etana-san had sounded. Well, too late now to turn back.
"Shigata ga nai," Misao mutters under their breath. Nothing to be done. Put it aside and move on.
During this mental cognition, Misao has not been idle. The surujin is returned to Misao's sash, while Misao shifts into a new form.
Misao has never duplicated their father's form...quite. In Hikariguni, it would be a sign of great disrespect to copy another's appearance exactly. Otoosan was much too important to even risk offending him in the slightest.
Kimiko-dono's reaction to such impropriety doesn't bear thinking about. So even now, Misao doesn't create an exact copy of Lucas. The body is a bit too muscular. The short, dark, hair contains Misao's own silver locks. The eyes are also silver. And there is the second set of arms. But it is very close.
Misao reaches through the door, grabs a large handful of sheet strips, and pulls hard enough to rip them from their moorings. Turning around, they make for the young woman. Is she awake? Alert? Misao also tries to judge which direction she was coming from, and which direction sounds like the direction with the most commotion.
The hallway looks sterile; evenly spaced doors along bare walls, with occasional written signs, in an unfamiliar tongue. There is a set of double doors further down the corridor to the north, and a door with a small window to the south, assuing the sun rises properly in the east here in this strange place.
The woman might have been coming from the direction of the double doors, but the klaxon coming from small boxes along the walls makes it hard to guess.
Kneeling by the body of the woman, Misao detaches a bit of sheet and uses it as a bandage for the head wound.
She's coming around, and her hand goes to her head. She feels the bandage and props herself up on her elbow. She probably needs a doctor, but not one here.
"Thank you. Hainu. I should've ducked faster. I'm Carina. Huon sent me to see if there were other prisoners up here." Her hair is yellow like straw or spun gold, and her clothing would be considered immodest in Hikariguni. She pays no attention to Misao's unusual number of arms.
"We meet for the first time. I am of Hikariguni, the child of Kimiko-dono. My name is Misao. Gomenasai. I am sorry that I struck you. I am attempting to create a diversion for Etana-san. Are you able to walk, Karina-san?"
If Karina-san is able to walk, Misao has her point out the direction from whence she came, then sets off in that direction, taking the lead and matching her pace to Karina-san's. Misao slips the surujin out of their belt and readies it, picking up the bedpan in their off hand as they go. Misao also grabs the paper with the password, tucking it into a pocket on the inside of their keijogi.
If Karina-san cannot walk, or if she is unstable, Misao quickly twists the lengths of sheet into a stronger rope. Misao improvises this into a harness, wrapping the rope from Karina-san's back around her waist, then passing the ends between her legs and crossing them over her back, passing the ends under Karina-san's shoulders. Misao uses their second set of hands to help boost and steady Karina-san as they lift her up. The rope ends go over Misao's shoulders, cross over their chest, and wrap around their waist, before being tied in a sturdy slip knot. Misao ends by linking their lower pair of hands underneath Karina-san's body, supporting her weight. The effect is that of a piggy-back ride, with the additional support and stability that the rope gives.
(Misao will naturally explain what they are doing at every step of this, so Karina-san knows what to expect.)
Then Misao sets out as described above.
Carina allows herself to be carried, and Misao thinks she may have had prior wounds that have not completely healed, in addition to a head wound. While Misao can close their own wounds, they know that most people cannot. And Misao certainly didn't hit Carina in both the head and the leg.
"Thank you. Prince Huon has reason to believe that there are two more prisoners here, and he does not wish to leave the Klybesians with any hostages, and asked me to meet up with you and convey that information. We should check the other rooms on this wing, if we can do so while also causing the desired diversion.
"Most of the signs are in an obscure shadow dialect up here, but the Klybesians use Thari as a common language. I can make out the symbols reasonably well, but I'm not up to speed on the rest.
"Huon tells us this place is named Greenwood."
Now that Misao is carrying Karina-san, their speech becomes a little shorter and more clipped.
"If you could point me in the correct direction, and anything I could use to make a better diversion as we go, I would appreciate it."
With that, Misao sets off in the indicated direction, looking for doors that might lead to rooms like the one they woke up in.
"I will do that. I'd say we should head towards the front. That's a highly visible area, and likely to draw attention." She points down a hall. "I'm not from here, or anywhere like here, really. It's also probably where the security office is, and that should be a prime target."
She pauses. "They're not really from here, either. So don't expect them to follow the law or the rules when they see you. They won't be as shocked as the locals that you don't look like a human person."
"I understand, thank you. If we are assaulted, I may have to drop you off suddenly, so please be alert for that. If that happens, take shelter as best you can."
"Thank you. I have a knife, but not a gun. This is a firearms shadow, so if someone points a weapon at you, assume it can hurt you from a distance."
Misao recalls seeing some primitive hand cannons in Hikariguni. Heavy, unwieldy things that, nevertheless, could do a lot of damage. "Thank you for letting me know, Karina-san."
Misao is still looking for doors. If they find one, they first try to open it using the knob. If the door is locked, they aim several strong, well-aimed kicks near the knob to try to break the lock.
There are a handful of doors evenly spaced along either side of the hallway, all with small windows in them, which her room did not. The rooms don't look like they've been used recently and half of them look as if they have been temporarily converted to storage for linens.
Carina speaks up from over Misao's shoulder. "They're probably fireproof, which may mean we need to try extra hard to burn them."
Misao targets each door, trying to open it with the knob first. In the rooms that look like linen storage, Misao creates a mess, trying to make it look like someone might be hiding in the room. Then they move on, proceeding down the hall as fast as possible, looking out for more mischief. In Hikariguni, Misao was always expected to behave properly for a given situation. Even when playing with Umebana, Misao knew that their behavior was being watched and could be reported to Kimiko-dono. This opportunity to break loose is proving to be more fun than Misao could have imagined.
Misao does what they will in the rooms and proceeds down the hall. The corridor turns left towards a corridor that Carina tentatively identifies as "laboratories" or Misao can go straight to the entrance/atrium where there are likely to be people to break loose.
Etana-san had mentioned "samples", "experiments" and a "lab"... where Misao's items might be kept. Misao heads for the laboratory.
The lab looks to be hastily abandoned. There's what looks to be a vault door at the back with a giant metal handle. In the front, there is more glass than any three taverns could use. The room holds a great collection of delicate tubes and flasks and places for them to be fitted into machines. Carina points to a desk. "Let's get the notebooks off the desk and see if it has anything useful in it. Huon wants to make sure that any samples of blood or tissue they have are destroyed."
"Can you stand, Karina-san? This would be faster if you could analyze while I destroy."
If the answer is yes, Misao unties the ropes and gently deposits Karina-san in front of the desk. If there is a chair or stool available, Misao moves it within Karina-san's reach. Misao then takes a short moment to stretch their back, before studying the metal door.
"I think so. I'm not dizzy any more." She takes a few tentative steps and finds a crutch along one wall. "I'll use this if I need to." She heads to the desk and begins rifling through papers.
The safe was clearly built to take a lot to break into, but the designers didn't take into account how powerful someone like Misao really is. They pull the handle off almost casually, which creates enough of a gap that Misao is able to rip the door from the hinges.
The "safe" hid a door to a frozen room, perhaps open to the blizzard that Huon mentioned. Or a portal to a frozen hellscape. There are bodies on racks on one side of the room, and shelves along the far wall with instruments, containers, and unknown gear. No place with walls or with so little wind should be so cold.
"That should be smashed," says Carina, who almost manages to keep her teeth from chattering.
Misao is taken aback by the bodies. Shocked, disturbed, even slightly nauseous. In Hikariguni, bodies were treated with care, respect, reverence. They were cremated with all due ceremony soon after death. To store bodies like lumps of frozen meat is a deep obscenity.
Shuddering slightly, though not from the cold, they turn from the unholy sight and start hefting the containers and gear to the desk for Karina-san to evaluate, growing a third pair of arms to speed the transport.
"Would it be simpler to burn the bodies where they are or to bring them out?" is their only response.
Carina comes to look through the door. "It might be hard to get a fire going in here, so you might want to do it in the lab. You'll want the samples from the cabinet as well. We can use their papers for kindling.
"I've got what I need, would you like some help?"
Misao places the equipment and containers on the floor, out of the way of the opening, and opens the containers.
"Is there anything in here you want? I'm going to sort the rest of it."
Misao starts piling anything flammable (and any "samples") in one corner of the lab, and tosses anything not flammable in the other corner, making sure it smashes. They keep an eye out for their items as they go. After Karina-san finishes with the stuff from the storage room, Misao will have her help.
Once the lab and storage stuff is sorted, Misao has Karina-san help bring the bodies out, as reverently as possible, and place them on the pile of flammable items. As they work, Karina-san notices that Misao is chanting or intoning something under their breath. It sounds ritualistic, but Karina-san can't understand the words.
"Tengoku no seirei to chikyū no seirei ga mimi o katamukete iru ma, Hikariguni no sekai no tsumi wa, ki ya shigemi o shōhi suru koto ni yotte chikyū o issō suru koto ga dekiru hi ni yotte jōka sa re, jōka sa remasu..."
Regardless of any effect the ritual has on the deceased, it does dispose of the bodies and it will cause the sort of distraction that Huon was looking for. Carina recommends chemicals that will act as fire accelerants and also tries to disable the fire suppression systems.
If either of them find any sodium chloride among the chemicals, Misao will grab it, and sprinkle it both around and on the pyre, as well as tasting a small amount.
There are various white powers and crystals, and it's a good thing Misao has the constitution of an Amberite.
Two men wearing black clothing, who don't seem like nurses, burst through the door at the end of the corridor. "Hey, what're you doing?" they shout. They're running towards Misao. Behind them Misao sees more people also coming toward them. They have large red cylinders in their hands.
Misao's eyes narrow. Although they ask, "May I assume that these are not your friends?" it is fairly obvious that they know what the answer is, because their next words are: "Grab what you need. I am going to change and force a way through them. Follow me, but not too close. Shall we head for the entrance?"
Carina nods. "Right behind you. I've got what I need."
The men stop when they see Misao. "It's loose! Call for backup."
They're pulling something from their belts. Misao may not recognize the exact type of firearm, but given the warning from before, Misao suspects that they are planning on shooting before asking questions.
Misao shouts "Gun!" as they push off the ground with all their strength. As their feet leave the ground, they shift back into the form of the honengyo. Not as powerful as the oni, but much more flexible. As they reach the apex of upward movement, they tuck into a ball as fast as they can and roll, barreling their way towards the enemy, aiming for the feet, ankles, and shins, like a human-sized bowling ball. Upon reaching their target, Misao grabs a piece of abandoned equipment from the floor, uncoils, and rises to their feet intending to brain either or both, if they still present a threat.
Misao bowls over first guard and is rolling to their feet when the second one shoots them. The shot glances off their dorsal fin and staggers them, but doesn't stop them. Misao smoothly picks up a piece of equipment left behind in the hospital and strikes the shooter in the head, felling him.
The second one is scrambling for his gun and shouting. The men with fire extinguishers at the far end of the hall have run, but there's shouting noises coming from that direction, which they can hear over the sounds of the klaxons.
Carina is coming towards Misao, moving from cover to cover. Behind her, the fire seems to be spreading.
Without missing a beat, Misao shifts to the form of the oni: red-skinned, sharp-clawed, spiky-horned, well-muscled and strong. They take out guard 2 as quickly and decisively as possible and charge towards the others, club swinging.
Misao claws the neck of the remaining guard, leaving him down and bleeding. They head towards the double doors which the men came through. The others have retreated, and it's not clear where they went.
The doors open into a large atrium, covered with an amazingly large glass wall on one side. It would probably be well lit and pleasant if it weren't for the raging blizzard outside the doors. It noticeably colder in here, and not just because the fire is back in the corridor. There are a number of underwhelming plants in nondescript planters and rows of seats spread throughout the entrance hall, assuming that's what this place is used for.
There are several other doors like the one beside her, as well as some sort of glass chamber by the outside wall. There's an information desk, but no one is staffing it at the moment.
Carina runs up behind her and stops at the doorway. She's carrying one of the guns. "I have no idea how to use this," she says to Misao.
"A weapon one does not know how to use is an asset only to one's enemy." It sounds like Misao is quoting some martial arts maxim. They look at the weapon. "No, I am not familiar with it, either. My advice would be to destroy it."
Misao proffers the club to Karina-san in lieu of the gun, and if the exchange is made, they throw the gun back into the heart of the fire.
Carina takes the club, and swings it a few times, experimentally. She's not a warrior, but she's an enthusiastic amateur. The gun arcs gracefully through the air and lands in the heart of the fire. Less than a minute later, there is a muffled explosion.
"Which direction would you recommend from here, Karina-san?"
Carina looks at a diagram on the wall. "They'll probably have your belongings locked up. Huon is searching for them, too. But I think they might have some sort of security office, and it should be near the front. Yes, it's just behind the information desk there. We should go asking in there."
The security office it is, but given that Huon might be in there, Misao opens the door carefully instead of bursting in.
The office is small and nearly as empty as the hospital room where Misao woke up. It holds a writing desk with tools and instruments. There's an inner door behind it, and that door looks more sturdy.
There's talking behind the door, but Misao can't hear it clearly over the klaxons.
Misao motions Karina-san to follow them into the room as they move over to the desk. They open any drawers, yanking them out if necessary.
"Is there anything in these that would be useful, Karina-san?"
Carina looks around, and says "There's a floor safe over here. Or something like one."
As Karina-san moves to investigate, Misao shifts into the form of the kitsune, specifically the kyubi no kitsune. They now look like a human-sized fox, with nine tails, with flowing golden fur, white at the tips of the tails, the ears, and the snout. Misao moves between the desk and the door and uses the kitsune's legendary hearing ability to hear what is being said beyond the door.
Misao recognizes Huon's voice. "They're setting up a position in the hallway with machine guns. I'm working on a rescue. Time to be somewhere they're not."
They also hear furniture scraping and in the distance, loud pops, like the firearm made when it hit the fire. The klaxon is annoying and having excellent hearing is a disadvantage in this noisy place, but they get what they were hoping for.
"Etana-san is on the other side of the door, Karina-san. It sounds like he plans to leave soon."
Delta gradually awakens. It's dark, cold, and she's definitely on land, none of which were true before she woke up. In fact she had been at a gaming table. Someone must have spiked her drink and dragged her to some island.
The room has the feel of a brig, with stark, utilitarian features and no amenities. There's another bed beside hers, but it's empty. The window has bars on it. It smells of desperation and antiseptics. Delta doesn't remember arriving here at all.
"Damn it," Delta mutters before even opening her eyes. "Again?" Her otherwise silent assessment is a simple one: Can she move? Is anything broken? Is a massive hangover like a boulder about to drop on her head?
Even as she rises unsteadily to her feet, she pats down the hidden pockets beneath her clothes. Weapons? She'd never have been allowed to keep rapier and dagger, but whoever put her here might have missed her fish-hooks and flint and spare coins, her cards and dice. Whatever she finds, she drags the fingers of both hands through her short-cropped hair and peers around blearily for a jug of water.
No weapons, and no cards, but she does have fish-hooks and change.
There's a basin of water, but it's not very fresh.
The antiseptics smell somewhat familiar, like rags soaked in vinegar and lemon for cleaning. They mask the expected, ever-present smell of brine and mildew -- or is she even near the shore? That disturbing thought propels her forward to the barred window. If it's in reach, she grabs the bars and tilts her face as far through as she can, all in hopes of seeing something, anything, to indicate where she might be.
The window is an interior one, and the the corridor beyond is lit in a weird glow. The first thing she sees is a man's face at the bars of a similar cell door across the hall. He's had a rough night of it, she suspects.
Delta squints against the odd glow. The strangeness of it invites questions, but hardly the first, most pertinent ones. The sight of a jailed man in strange garb across the corridor is far more compelling.
She opens her mouth to speak, but when he addresses a companion instead of her, she pauses. "First listen, then act," her grandmother used to say, and the motto has served Delta well -- when she chooses to remember it. Today, she does. She watches for now, with hopes of seeing what sort of people these might be.
Delta can't hear the whole conversation, but wisps of words are coming through: "Tomat, Rebma, Xanadhavian."
Rebma, at least, is legendary. Strange thing to be talking about in a jail cell.
And while Delta would usually observe a bit longer -- especially with the "Alex" man trying to break down the bars with his...back? -- Tomat's words make further delay impossible. "Rebma," she says clearly from across the corridor. "You're from Rebma?" Even as she asks the question, she shakes her head sharply. "Never mind, for now. We speak the same tongue, so better questions first -- where are we? Who holds us?"
Alex wakes up. It had been pretty late when they transferred him to this cell, and he hadn't noticed last night that he had a cellmate. The cellmate looks rough, like he's been in some sort of an accident, or else jail hasn't agreed with him.
The cellmate isn't awake right now, and possibly isn't going to wake up any time soon. He doesn't look like he's a wrestler: too skinny and not obviously strong. He's wearing what looks like yesterday's, or maybe day-before-yesterday's clothes, except maybe he went to a costume party because it's some kind of historic costume, maybe a harlequin? in bright colors.
There's one of those tape bandages around Alex's elbow, with a bit of gauze over the inside. He vaguely remembers someone taking a blood sample. It doesn't seem like Alex is in a normal prison, or that he's going to see his lawyer anytime soon. Alex has a feeling someone is messing with him.
Alex yawns, stretches, shakes out his limbs with an unabashed sound of pleasure, and then does his real stretches. The cell isn't really roomy enough to get properly limber but you do what you can, or you wind up walking with a limp by the time you're forty. It takes about half an hour. If nothing else interesting has happened by the time he's done, he kicks the leg of his new roomie's bed.
"Hey, buddy, wake up, someone tossed us in jail. I guess not long-term if they left you in ring gear or whatever the hell you're wearing. Nice hat. You awake yet? How about now?"
Huh. Hey, what's in Alex's pockets? It'd be weird if they left him the knife but this seems maybe like some small town jail where they don't have their crap together.
And what's the cell like? Bars but otherwise a clear view of the corridor? If it's a solid wall, any windows, either looking inside or outside? (Yeah, he stretched first, so it's possible he'll get interrupted before he thinks to check.)
The guy moans a little and lifts his arm up. It looks more like someone roughed him up than like he drank too much. "Ugh. Where am I?"
The cell has two cots, a wooden door with a barred window, straw or hay on the floor, and a hole in the ground. It hasn't been cleaned recently enough.
He checks his pockets and finds his pocket knife. It's sharp enough, but it's not big enough to be a real threat to anyone he can get hold of.
Alex looks through the bars and sees another cell across the hall. There's a woman in that one, also looking around.
"Hey, buddy! Good to see you awake. You're in jail, it's a real hole, I guess..."
He pauses and cracks his neck. Frowns.
"Hey, so, did you get arrested for something? I'm pretty sure if we don't know what we're in for, we're allowed to just kind of leave. Anyhow, I'm Alex."
He opens one eye, which is bruised, and looks at Alex. "Oh, I know what I'm in for. And there are only two reasons they'd hold you. Either they think you can lead them to their enemies or they think you are of the enemy. I'd've said that this group was harmless, but I'm reassessing that at the moment. My name is Tomat, and I am archivist to the Queen of Rebma."
Tomat swings upright, and it's clear that he's been beaten. He looks at Alex's clothing and rolls his head around his neck, wincing.
"You don't look Xanadhavian."
"Uh? No, I'm from Parts Unknown. Or Alabama, depending. Look, ren faires are their own thing but I've worked a couple, so if it's a grift you can talk. Or give it up if the work is on me, it won't fly. Either way I guess I'm not interested in this jail."
He wanders over to the door, tests the handle just in case, then puts his back against it and finds out if they planned for the heavyweight champion of Pan-South Wrestling when they built this thing.
It turns out they didn't build the jail with the heavyweight champion of anything in mind, and there's an amazingly loud crack and the door gives way under Alex's assault. Alex rolls to a stop at the foot of the other door and looks back at the ruins of the door he's just destroyed.
As feats of strength go, that was pretty good.
Tomat steps through what used to be the doorway as the dust settles to look at the woman in the other cell (Delta). "Yes," he says, "I serve the Queen of Rebma. We're in a Klybesian prison that's in some shadow that neither of you has probably ever heard of." He glances back at Alex. "They must think you're from Amber, and that's why they have you here for experimentation.
"The ship I was on with my colleagues, the Rebman archivists, was taken by the forces of the Turcopolier. If we can escape, and bring them with us, we should. Can you get out of your cell, or shall we ask Alex to help?"
Just after he asks, a klaxon starts sounding. It seems pretty quick for them to have noticed Alex's little unauthorized excursion.
Alex is already in the process of bouncing back up to his feet, with a little flourish. Once there, he tells Delta, "Hi, I'm Alex, and I'm here to break you out of jail! And break down doors, and chew gum, and I'm almost all out of doors, so I hope you have some chewing gum." This time, he levels a solid kick right at the edge of the door, right where the tongue of the lock might be. "Um, stand back a bit maybe." Another kick, to see how much he can weaken the thing from the outside.
Queen of Rebma, Turcopolier, Klybesian, gum. All concepts for later consideration. For now though, Delta's lips curve into a slight smile as she says to Alex, "Well, you're useful. Have at it." She steps back from the door and says to Tomat, "Let's fetch those mates of yours. Is your ship near? I can crew anything that ever touched water."
Alex may be more convinced of the Ren Faire angle than ever, considering that Delta is dressed like a swashbuckling performer in the 'pirate' corner of such events.
The door opens into the hall, like Alex's former cell door once did, and has some sort of electronic lock. It has a blinking red light on it, as if he'd done something to it, but the door isn't yet open. Perhaps if he pulled and she hit it with something. Or if he had a gun.
"Our ship is at the bottom of a lagoon in a shadow far from here. I don't have a way to get back to Rebma, but we were traveling with someone who does. We should try to find him. Unless one of you can navigate shadow?"
Alex gives the door another thrust kick on general principles before giving up. +To the woman on the wrong side of the door: "Hey, we're going to cooperate on this one, right? I'm going to need you to push on it. Maybe if there's anything in there that looks like a lever, kind of wedge it in the door handle." His voice carries, like he's used to being heard over a lot of noise.
Over his shoulder, to the guy trying to pull some weird con on him, "And maybe see if there's anything that smells like a crowbar in our old home? I know, I thought it was going to be our forever place too, but sometimes those dreams just don't work out."
He switches to pulling on the door, squinching up his face against the sound of the klaxons.
"Suppose two kings-crosses in a row is too much to ask," Delta says to Alex's words (in a gambling reference that it's likely neither man will understand), and whirls to find something to help with the door. She squats by her cell's cot, testing each cot-leg in turn for potential looseness. If one fits the bill, she aims swift, vicious kicks at it to try and break it from the bed. It'll do as a lever, if only she can bash it free.
Every time the klaxon's wail reaches its apex, she flinches against the horrid, unfamiliar sound. Between the unnatural lights, the unnatural noise, the burly man's bellowing, and -- there's the hangover, creeping in at the edge of all that noise -- her kicks against the cot leg are vicious indeed. Should she break it free, she leaps to the door with it to assist Alex.
The cot leg breaks off under Delta's assault; she can almost hear the snapping sound over the klaxon. She jams it into the lock and throws herself against it. The door bends and the lock makes an agonized noise and breaks.
Delta stays on her feet and steps out into the corridor. The ground is covered in paving stones, each cut very square and close to each other, making a smooth surface, while the walls are straight and painted an unappealing shade of grey. It's almost cold enough to see her own breath, but at least it's dry in here.
There don't seem to be any other cells in this wing, but there is a door at the end of the hall.
"Well, that worked," says the smaller man. "We should probably get our things and get out of here. I'm Tomat, if you didn't hear my introduction to this worthy," he says, indicating Alex. "I'm a royal archivist of Rebma, and we should really be somewhere else."
Alex nods seriously, ducks back into his former home, and emerges again a moment later with a can of beer in his hand. "Got my stuff; let's go!"
He cracks open the beer and lopes down the hall simultaneously. He's fast: controlled, as if he doesn't want to burn all his energy on one sprint, but speed is clearly of the essence here. When he reaches the door at the end of the hall, he;s going to go through it without much of a pause if it's unlocked, and he'll be ready for a fight on the other side.
Again, Delta defers several pressing questions for when they aren't in this freakish corridor of unnatural sound and light. "Delta's the name," she offers before jogging after Alex with long, easy strides. With one hand she holds the cot-leg as a cudgel, unless it was destroyed when opening her cell door.
"You saw them, then? Our jailers?" She asks Tomat the questions, followed rapidly by, "What arms do they bear? Are they armored?" Who knows if he'll have time to answer before Alex bashes through the door.
If Alex does crash into the next room, Delta will follow without pause. Another day, another brawl.
Tomat follows her. "I was one of them, although it's been many years and they have changed. They use local weapons and arms, if needed. In this place, I am sorry to say, it will be firearms." When he doesn't get the expected reaction, he adds "You don't have those in your shadow, do you? If someone points a metal tube at you, assume it can kill, from any distance. They are not safe, even for your kind."
Alex bashes through the door, with Delta and Tomat close behind. Tomat is both wounded and weaker than either of them. He's not weak, just not athletic. Delta thinks him more likely to be a clerk than a fighter.
Strolling down the hall towards Alex and Delta is another man dressed like Tomat, but in a richer style. He looks as if he was born wearing tights and a slashed doublet. All that is missing is a rapier and a hat with a feather in it.
If Tomat is a actor, this man is a star. He exudes confidence and superiority, like a Wrestler about to win a heavyweight title bout. He holds himself like a fighter as well. He's carrying what Alex knows is a baseball bat, and behind him is a trail of broken glass and smashed equipment.
The corridor, despite the dim lighting, looks more like the basement of a hospital than a serious prison, which is surprising. There are a number of signs that look like safety reminders on the walls, which the newcomer is clearly ignoring. It's hard to see exactly what's going on in the corridor, except that it's running emergency lighting and the klaxons are louder here.
He smiles when the door opens.
The blaring klaxons make Delta squint in discomfort, but the confident stranger's appearance leaves no time to consider the corridor's oddities. Whether or not Alex and Tomat rush ahead, she pauses instead to assess that smile. "Ally or enemy?" she calls over the cacophony.
The man is far larger than her, as is the weapon he bears. No metal tube, though, like Tomat said their jailers would wield. She keeps her 'borrowed' cot-leg at her side in a gesture of peace while fishing with her other hand in the voluminous pockets of her linen trousers. Her fingers close around the small, savage fish-hooks her jailers overlooked when removing the rest of her weaponry. The hooks - wickedly sharp, carved from bone - aren't lethal, but they can cause a distraction at close quarters. It's enough to give a smaller combatant like her a chance, if need be.
That said, she looks willing to talk if the stranger is.
Alex makes a split-second decision and sheds his momentum before impact. "Well, gorgeous, he's smashed almost as many things in this place as I have. Although he had a bat, so he had an advantage. He's a friend."
His smile is brilliant in return, before he takes another swig of his beer. Then, cheerfully, he closes whatever distance remains between him and the other man and reaches out his calloused free hand. "Hey, buddy, I'm Alex. This is Tomat, and that's Delta. We're escaping. So are we gonna be escape friends, or just ships passing in the night?"
Alex's center of gravity is a bit lower than it was a minute ago. You'd notice if you've done any substantial degree of hand to hand combat training.
The man ignores the klaxon and holds his bat down at his side, as peacefully as you can carry a baseball bat. "I've been looking for you. My gaolers said there were two new prisoners tonight and it's nice to see that you took the initiative to escape yourselves. Tomat and I were captured together."
He turns to Tomat. "Perhaps you can use 'Escape Friends' as the name of your inevitable monograph of this little incident." Tomat cannot suppress a laugh.
Tomat looks quite relieved to find the man. "Prince Huon, these two are Alex of Alabama, and Delta, and we have just broken out of confinement. I think they are relatives of yours, although I do not know who their noble parents might be."
Huon gives a little half-bow. "It's my pleasure to meet you, potential cousins. There's another one upstairs, called Misao. I sent Carina to find them. I have questions for you both, but I think we should finish our business here and depart. You all probably will have questions for me as well.
"I plan to get Misao's things, which include her trumps. Did they take anything from you all that we should recover? I don't expect this place will have much of a future after I'm done with it, so we should clean it out."
"Uh, not much. They have my wallet and phone, I'd like to get those back, it's a pain to get new ID when you travel a lot but I'm as broke as I usually am, you know?"
He shifts his weight, relaxing back on his heels. "Anyhow hi and thanks for looking for us! You know, if we're going to clean the place out I'm not exactly opposed to taking anything from them all that we want, either. Uh, and Delta and I aren't partners at the moment--" he tips that lovely a wink "--so just speaking for myself, here."
"We're strange bedfellows until we're clear of this place," Delta says. "The rest? I have a good berth on a good ship waiting for me -- I think. I make no promises." She shakes her head once in a sharp, focusing gesture. "They've got my sword-belt. Rapier and its sheath, my eating-knife, two woven pouches. I want all of it back." Like Alex, she makes a point of adding, "The coin-purse is feather-light."
Another whoop of the cursed klaxon sounds, and she adds, "Let's go. Which way?"
"We need to find their offices and workspaces. I am guessing they won't be in the basement. Oh, and I expect that current conditions look like a blizzard outside, so don't expect anyone to come or go through the front door."
Huon speaks up quickly, before Tomat can interject. "But, and for reasons I suspect I'll need to explain later, we have a way out that these Klybesians don't have." He smiles. "If Tomat is right about you, you have other distant relatives who will be pleased to help you out of your current troubles, assuming we can contact them after we escape."
Tomat almost objects to being called out, but then choses not to. "The stairs are that way," Huon says, gesturing with his bat. "When we get to them we should find a locker with some weapons."
He looks at the bat and offers it to either of them. "If one of you would care to take this and break everything you'd like to break on the way?"
Delta immediately reaches for the bat...and then turns to offer it with a courtier's bow and flourish to Alex. "I've grown attached to my home-made cudgel," she says while holding up her broken cot's leg in her other hand. "I think this is yours, sir. Enjoy." With the bat handed over, she pivots toward the stairs. "I miss my belongings, and my freedom. Shall we be off?" The final words can be heard from over her shoulder, given that she's already walking in that direction.
Alex cheerfully discards his empty beer can and takes the bat: flips it once in the air, allows the handle to fall into his hand, and nods with satisfaction. It needs more barbed wire but it'll do.
"Thanks! Gosh, this is every jailbird's fantasy: I got to break myself out, met helpful people immediately, and now I'm gonna get to hit things. Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy, if I do say so myself."
He frowns, exaggerated. "Hey, is this one of those things where it turns out we're inside a video game? Like that movie? Am I going to be smashing crates?"
It's kind of a rhetorical question, since he's already following Delta.
There are crates to smash, if he wishes to do so. Perhaps more satisfying would be the glass cupboard or the speakers. It's up to Alex.
Tomat starts to follow with Huon, and the air feels electric with possibilities, as if something unusual was bound to happen. More unusual.
"Dierdre's and Random's," Huon says to his charge.
"It's not my place to guess, Higness," Tomat says back.
"Nor mine, but that's not stopping me," replies Huon. "Go back the way I came and protect the others. I found this in our of our captor's hands." He presents Tomat with a gun, and the archivist checks the chamber and the safety. "We'll get you before we leave." Tomat nods and heads back.
Huon steps a bit faster and catches up to Alex and Delta at the door to the stairway. There is indeed a locker there, and inside it are two rapiers on hangers. Huon puts one on, adjusts the frog, and pulls the weapon. "Tsk, such sloppy care for a good weapon. Still, the balance is good." He takes a few practice swings and seems satisfied.
"I sent Tomat back to protect the other archivists. Shall we continue our search above?"
There's a trail of broken glass behind Alex, and while the klaxons still echo through more remote hallways, they're sure not making any noise right here. He made a little theatric out of the process: smash smash smash SMASH! Almost musical in the pattern of destruction. It probably wasn't necessary to hit the locker's lock with the bat, but he did. Conclusively.
He's more serious than before when he speaks. "So, escape friend Huon, I make a buck by letting people hit me, and vice versa. You and Delta here are fencers? This is where I say that I'm happy either way but if you want me to be the big asshole in front of the group, I'm okay with that, just tell me where to go."
Delta claims the second rapier without a second's delay. Rather than discard her makeshift cudgel, she sticks it behind her sash. Thus armed, she says to Huon, "If that's where my things are, yes."
She's already halfway up the stairs when Alex speaks. She pauses and turns to regard both men. "Fencer, no. Traveler and occasional sailor for hire, yes. Decent with a rapier, also yes - though nowhere near his skill, I expect." She looks Huon up and down before returning her attention solely to Alex. "You're an...arena fighter, then?" But the call of her belongings is stronger than her curiosity -- for now -- and she continues upstairs with her weapon at the ready. "Let's go."
"Not gonna complain about speed -- I like your attitude! And yeah, arena fighter, although it's been a long time since I headlined an actual arena. Maybe more high school gymnasium figher."
He's content to let Delta take the lead, and takes the chance to widen his focus a bit, taking the occasional glance behind the group just in case. He's back on the balls of his feet, balanced and ready.
"We're looking for offices. Anyplace they might have your valuables. Smash anything you like, and don't get shot."
At the top of the stairs, Huon looks left, then right. "I think I hear our opposite number down that hall, so we'll look this way for now. We wouldn't mind questioning anyone who might know where we want to go, and be on the lookout for another one of us. She'll be with a girl wearing clothing similar to Tomat's."
The klaxons are more muted here, and it's possible to hear things again. There are tables here, and workspaces, many with large plate windows that eventually succumb to smashing.
Through one of them, everyone notices a closet door shut. The room has a large table and chairs, suitable for a meeting. Huon gestures towards the door. It looks locked, but also it looks significantly less robust than the cells.
It's clear that this part of the jail is actually a hospital, and not really suited to slowing down Alex, Delta, and Huon.
Alex looks pleased as he cuts back and enters the room. The table is just part of his path: he uses one chair as a stair step and slides across the table to the closet door. On arrival, he chokes up on the bat such that one hand's on the handle, and one hand is wrapped around the barrel a few inches from the end. You might expect that to be awkward, but he does have big hands, doesn't he? He squints at the door, squares up, and drives the bat into the door's knob and lock assembly.
If Alex's attempt at smashing through the door lock is successful, Delta follows him and makes a beeline for the now-open closet space. Since Alex's burly self would likely be filling up the doorway, she says, "Are they there? Our things?" A new urgency sounds in her voice, far more than she's shown so far. She doesn't quite try to wriggle past him, but instead rocks on her heels as if it might be difficult to hold herself back from doing so.
If Alex is unsuccessful, she quickly urges him to try it again, and more fiercely.
Alex smashes in the lock as if he had a battering ram and he hears a cry of surprise when he does so. The door swings open from force of his blow and Alex sees two young women in starched white nurses outfits huddling in the back of the closet.
"Don't kill us, please!" pleads one. The other just cries.
Delta twists enough to give Huon a wry grin. "You made quite the entrance, I see." And then to the two young women, "Out. Come on. If you offer no violence, it won't be returned, at least by me." She nudges Alex with an elbow. "Give them some room, eh?"
She also backs up, with her borrowed rapier at the ready. For all her talk of not hurting the women, she doesn't allow them within reach of her. "Where are the prisoners' things kept? Answer quickly now."
Alex shrugs and backs off a few steps further than Delta, and half-turns to keep an eye on the hallway. "Nah, I'm not going to hit anyone unless they make me, I'm a peaceful guy. What'd they tell you kids about us, anyhow? Do you think we eat babies?"
They don't seem inclined to leave their closet.
Huon looks as if he might not be a peaceful guy, but he's willing to let Delta and Alex take the lead.
"We're student nurses, we don't know anything! They told us you were members of a cult, and on drugs. We were told to get out or hide.
"They've got offices down that way. We're not allowed in. Please let us go."
Delta tilts her head slightly to the left. "Empty your pockets, first. Do they give you keys?" She keeps an eye on them in case they bear small blades or other odd weapons.
If the nurses possess neither weapons nor keys -- which is Delta's clear expectation --
They are students, and thus not trusted with anything as important as keys. They hold out the contents of their pockets -- a roll of breath mints, a tiny nail file, makeup, a handful of coins. It's two pocketfuls of nothing.
-- she says to the men, "They're no threat to us. Leave them here, I say. It's not as if our path of destruction or empty cells leave much mystery to the matter." She takes a few steps in the direction the nurses indicated for the offices as she awaits the others' thoughts on the seemingly hapless young women.
Alex looks slightly puzzled when Delta demands empty pockets, but shrugs it off quickly enough. "Sure, that sounds right, I'm not the guy you call when you want things to be all subtle or anything. I'm not in a cult, though." That last in an aggrieved tone. Then he blinks, and half to himself: "Could be on drugs, I guess. That would explain some things."
Before he follows, Huon addresss the nurses. "Run away. Run away quickly. Tell anyone for whom you care in the slightest to get as far from here as they can. The blizzard will outlive this place," Huon says. He leaves the women a path to the door and follows Alex and Delta.
Catching up to Alex, he continues their conversation as if he hadn't just threatened two people and a hospital. "You'll really think when we get a chance to talk, I'll wager. They're just setting the people they're manipulating up to be afraid of us. In another place, they'd call us Demons, or Evil Gods. Anything to scare the masses."
The offices are at the end of a short hall behind the conference room and have expensive looking name plates on the doors. "Atom Smith", Huon says, reading the most elaborate one. "He's probably not from around here, for any reasonable value of here. Shall we see if this is where they've stashed what we're looking for?"
"Why, escape friend Huon, why are you bringing reasonableness into this at this late date? I haven't felt reasonable since I woke up in a jail cell, I gotta tell you."
Alex doesn't bother trying the door handle, perhaps because of the anger that lies beneath those frivolous words: he just shoulders through it, like a compact wrecking ball.
"Actually, that makes sense, anyhow. I like being a prop in a con a little tiny bit more than I like being the focus of the con, so OK, let's go with that for now. And for sure those girls weren't acting, nobody's that good."
He scans the office visually first, bat hanging loosely in his right hand.
Delta's lips curve up into a wry smile at the barely-hidden acid in Alex's words. In a similar tone, she says, "I'm not fond of being anyone's prop," before moving past him.
She ignores any papers or books, instead going straight for drawers, lockers, and the like. "Leather pouches," she tells the men again. "A rapier, its belt and scabbard. And ...if they dumped the contents, just look for a deck of cards."
Delta makes it three steps into the room when she sees a flash of metal. Huon apparently sees it as well and tackles her from behind, taking the two of them to the ground in a heap. "Gun!" he shouts.
The bullet misses her ear by inches, and might've hit her throat if she hadn't been tackled.
Alex is pretty sure the shooter is behind the desk. It's not a big office, but it could get bad if there are two gunmen.
Alex takes in the room as he's running in. There's just one desk. An Exterior wall with a window. A side door next to a large fish tank. On the other side, bookshelves and cabinets, made of dark wood.
Alex doesn't hesitate. He tosses the bat in a high rotating arc that ends as close as possible to the known gunman; without waiting to see if his distraction pans out, he runs at a 45 degree angle towards one of the side walls, leaping, bouncing off the wall and coming straight down at his foe with a sharp forearm strike.
There could be another gunman, but waiting doesn't seem likely to make the situation any better.
The bat has done its job, and bounced away, but the guard is slow to shift his attention and weapon back to Alex. He catches Alex's flying forearm smash to his face and falls to the floor, bleeding. He drops his gun and is holding his face. Alex thinks he may be pretending to be hurt worse than he is.
Delta hits the ground hard. The startling pop of sound from the "gun" joins the impact in knocking the breath out of her for a few seconds, but she rallies quickly. She twists up into a crouch, spares a second to give Huon's rump an appreciative pat -- "Thanks for that, mate." -- and looks up to assess how Alex's attack is going.
While she doesn't know the wrestling terms, Alex might appreciate the leg sweep she aims at any visible second gunman trying to join in the fight.
Delta rolls forward and crouches just in time to see the second guard step out from behind the desk, scrambling a bit away from Alex's flailing foe. Delta sweeps her leg out from her and she hits the ground with a grunt. She, at least, has the presence to hold on to her gun. She's trying to get it pointed at any of them.
Huon is still near the door. He's retrieved Delta's borrowed rapier, but hasn't committed. He's watching the fight.
"Huon --" another forearm strike to the gunman's face -- "watch the side door --" Alex drops to his knees next to his immediate opponent, and slaps on an unsympathetic neck choke, wrapping a spare leg around the man's right arm -- "block it if you can!"
Alex carefully applies pressure until he feels the gunman going limp for real. He's positioning the gunman between him and the other opponent, if at all possible, which would also give him a good view of Delta's situation.
The metal tube! Delta spots the weapon Huon told her about, still in her fallen foe's hand. Since Delta's leg was already outstretched for the sweep, she aims a vicious kick at the guard's weapon and the hand holding it. She follows that up by scrambling toward the guard. If the guard is unarmed now, it'll be far easier for Delta to grapple her into submission. Or so she thinks.
"Mmm. Good thinking," says Huon. He walks casually over to the fish tank. It's large and full and Huon pushes it in front of the side door with one hand. He doesn't look strong enough to do that, but Alex can't think of anyone but himself who could move a large aquarium full of water without some effort.
Alex's goon goes limp as expected and he watches Delta take on her foe. Delta snaps a kick to the guard's gun hand and connects with an ugly crunching sound. The gun goes flying and the guard grunts and reaches for something at her belt. She manages to get the device out as Delta jumps her. The woman isn't as strong as Delta, but she's combat trained. She manages to keep Delta from subduing her immediately, and she tries to get her new metal tube into the fight.
At that point, Huon steps up, twists the guard's arm so that the weapon is pointed at herself, and squeezes her trigger hand.
The woman falls to the ground twitching.
"That's called a taser. It's technically 'non-lethal', but it wasn't her first choice," he says, sounding disapproving.
Alex bounces to his feet, pursing his lips. "I'd be scared enough of us to shoot us now, but only after that fight. Would have been fun if it wasn't for the firearms. OK."
He bends down and picks up his opponent's gun, checking to count remaining bullets. "Delta, uh, if you don't know... you know, I'm not going to finish that sentence. But a taser is easier to use than a pistol." Once he's gotten the measure of his new pistol, he flicks the safety on and sets it on top of the desk.
He sighs, sounding not entirely pleased with himself. "OK. What's in the desk? And what's in your pockets, escape enemies?"
Taser, pistol, Delta might try for one of those in a bit. In the meantime, she doesn't join Alex in conversing with the escape enemies. Instead, she repeats, "Taser," as if fixing the word in her vocabulary, and begins looking through the desk.
Given the surprise of the gunmen and their strange weapons, she's a bit more careful than before. She opens drawers at arm's length, ready to jump back. A comical sight, perhaps, but her expression is far from amused.
Alex busies himself with searching the pockets of the unconscious pair; first, the one he choked out, and then Delta's dance partner.
The drawer contains more papers, pens and fasteners and small vials of something or other, as well as a ring of keys. Delta sees a flimsy knife, which looks about sharp enough to cut butter but not bread.
Alex finds that the guards aren't answering, which is what he expected since they were choked and tasered into unconsciousness, respectively. Each has ID, some money, and extra clips for their guns, but not much else. They have phones and walkie-talkies and are both wearing (or were recently wearing) earpieces.
Someone on the radio is asking for a status report.
Huon looks at the radio and says "Are either of them up to asking questions? We need to find where they keep valuables here."
Alex scoops up the money, phones, walkie-talkies, and clips. His expression says he thinks he's about to be terribly clever. He clears his throat and makes his voice all gravelly.
Into the walkie-talkie: "Uh, yeah, this is -- status is normal, we have the, uh, the cult fugitives under control. They're really angry, yelling nonsense." He motions enthusiastically at Delta, using his free hand like a hand puppet to indicate that she should yell nonsense.
"I think we're gonna need the boss down here. We're in, ah, Smith's office. We'll wait."
Delta grabs the keys and is glancing around for potentially locked containers when Alex begins speaking into the box he holds. She's no fool, even if all the technology here is far, far beyond her imagining. The little box is obviously some sort of way to talk to people - or spirits, or creatures - so when Alex makes the strange one-hand-clapping gesture, she only pauses for a second before barking out some irate, incoherent nonsense. After all, Alex has been competent so far.
Huon's sensible suggestion leads her to nudge the non-tasered guard with a booted toe.
The radio stays stubbornly silent.
The guard groans, but doesn't move.
The Klaxon sounds get louder, as if someone had opened a door or window nearby. It seems to be coming from behind the fishtank in front of the side door.
Huon steps out into the hall. "Excuse me," he says, putting a hand to his ear.
Alex looks faintly disappointed as he clips his new walkie-talkie to his belt. "OK, fine, fine. Delta, if I move those poor fish away, would you like to hit whatever comes through that door?"
She crouches by the non-tasered guard, the one groaning, and smacks a palm against his cheek. It isn't a blow, per se, but slap enough to hopefully sting a waking man back into consciousness. "Huon looked peaceful enough about it," she says. "Though nothing makes sense this day." She glances Alex's way. "What is this madness? Do you have any idea?"
"Nope. Doesn't make any sense at all, so I just want to get out of here and then see what the game is."
He shrugs eloquent and turns his attention to the fish tank. He's going to try and pull it if at all possible, to keep the tank between him and anything dangerous, but if that's not on the card he'll just shove it.
It's heavy, the kind of heavy that Alex thinks only professional strongmen and bodybuilders like himself could move. And yet Huon shoved it with one hand like it came from a Scandinavian furniture store. The weight of the water is really the problem. It moves, but Alex is glad he's not responsible for what a ton of water is doing to the flooring. It's clear enough to get in or out of the door.
Huon walks back in and takes in the current activities. "They're setting up a position in the hallway with machine guns. I'm working on a rescue. Time to be somewhere they're not."
"Machine guns" sounds even more ominous than regular guns to Delta, and yet. She darts to the dark wood cabinets against the office wall. "I'm not leaving this place without my cards," she snaps, though the tone is more impatient than angry at her fellows. As she attempts to fling open door after door, she asks, "Is there another place like this, where our things could be? I'm not leaving..." She glances back at them. "We don't know each other. You don't have to keep looking with me, if you care less about your own things."
Alex says regretfully, "Nope, don't care at all about my own stuff. I travel light. There's always another baseball bat." Speaking of which... he retrieves his baseball bat from wherever it's gotten to, makes a face, and throws open the side door.
It's unclear who Huon is talking to. Perhaps he has a radio or some other trickery. Alex and Delta can tell he's only about half paying attention to them. He gestures towards the door and walks towards it, arriving just after Alex throws it open.
"Ah Brita, were we all here, I might take you up on that. We may be safe for the moment, or safe enough. I need to retrieve the Rebmans in my custody and I very much want to learn what we can from this Klybesian outpost, which is the second durmurral. Best if we overran this place with excessive force.
"Delta, let's look in the place they're not shooting right now. We can circle back if need be." Huon adds "Hainu", as the door opens.
Last modified: 9 March 2021