Snippet #2411212

Out of the frying pan, and into the freezer.

Well, it wasn't that cold. Enough to make Theon shiver a little bit, rubbing his bare arms and feeling goosebumps. He really should start wearing shirts with sleeves. He seemed to be garbed typically for a dangerous affair, that was to say in his carapace shell armor, armed for murder, his duckfoot at his hip, and his axe on his back. He wondered if he'd need them. This was a dream, after all. His dream.

He was immediately aware that this was also not a place he'd ever been to before. It was chilly, but the forest around him was a deep green, as vibrant with other colors as any place in the wild Theon had ever seen. Which wasn't all that much, considering he'd been confined to the southern portions of Albion for his entire life. This must be where they were headed next, or at least a decent representation of it. If that was the case, Theon was looking forward to it.

There were like... flowers, and other stuff, all around him, only lightly covered with frost, and maybe if he'd been a girl he would have cared about that shit, but instead Theon started walking aimlessly through the forest, looking for something more interesting. If flowers were involved in saving the world, he wasn't sure he wanted any part of it. The ground beneath his feet was wet and squishy, but looking down he found it to be somewhat obscured by a fog.

He was walking one way when he began to hear something from the other way, and he stopped abruptly, spinning on one heel to listen. It was... singing. Yes, that's what that was. Haunting, eerie female tones calling out to him in a rather seductive manner, and Theon had never really been one to resist seduction too well. That, and they were really the only interesting things he could see or hear so far in this place. It was beautiful, of course, but Theon needed something to do.

He stumbled out onto the shore of a lake while in search of these fair-sounding ladies, and blinked a few times before he was able to accept that the sight before him was in fact, real. Well, nothing was really real in a dream, but his dreams were a little more real than most. He couldn't see the other shore of the lake, it was so huge, and the water, the water was so clear he could see almost all the way down to the bottom, where there were plants and little happy fish doing their thing. It could only be the source of the world. The lady voices seemed to be coming from in the water, as well as the fog, so Theon decided to wade on in and see what he could find. What could go wrong?

The water was really quite warm, much more so than the air around it, but what immediately caught Theon's attention was the hulking figure that rose up out of the water as soon as he set foot in. He scrambled back to the shore and pulled his duckfoot, but held his fire while he tried to discern what he was looking at. It was an armored man, only the plate that covered him from head to toe was a sort of moss green, decorated with patterns of vines and leaves. Theon happened to think the man's choice of armor was a little outdated, but then, this was a rather old place.

He rose up to simply stand on the water, which Theon happened to think was a pretty cool trick. He carried an enormous greatsword, the point of which just ever so slightly touched the surface of the lake, creating the tiniest of ripples. Theon waited, expecting the green knight to do something, but he just stood there, and Theon was content to let the moment get a little more awkward before he did anything. When he determined that the man was immune to awkward situations (at least, more than Theon was), he tried walking to the side, to get around him.

That got him to move, and he simply slid across the water to once again bar Theon's path into the lake. He gave the knight a scrutinous look, before he splashed a bit of water out on him. Nothing. Theon shrugged. He paced back and forth for a while, letting the knight follow him around. After a few minutes, he suddenly stopped and aimed his duckfoot at him. Again, nothing. Pretty solid, Theon thought. Then, considering that this was a dream, he pulled the trigger.

The pistol popped back hard enough to fly out of his hand and splash in the water at his feet, and propably two of the four shots missed him entirely, but the other two clearly hit, and with solid and loud clanks they just bounced off, not even making a dent in his armor, or even a scratch. Theon raised his arms, giving up on the knight's game. He was never really suited for problems that couldn't be blown into chunks.

"Alright, asshole, what the fuck?" he said impatiently. To that, the knight finally responded, by simply lifting up the visor of his helm. Inside, all Theon could see was darkness, like there was nothing inside the knight but shadow...

He was damp with sweat again upon waking, but it was slow this time, the scryer slowly opening his eyes in his bunk, before rubbing his face and eyes with his hands. Downside to being savior of Albion: he never got any sleep. Groaning, he pushed himself off the bed and started to dress. He didn't know what time of night it was, but his dream journal would probably be awake, and this dream was worth reporting. The last few hadn't been so relevant to the mission, but this one obviously was.

He tried the engine room first, but Gwen wasn't there, so he made his way up to the mess hall. Also abandoned. Shrugging, he went up towards the front of the ship, and the control room, where he found big Sven at the helm, watching over the ship. And nearby was Gwen, standing on top of a chair, staring into the eyes of the toaster, probably just an inch away from his face, looking like she was really searching for something in there. Theon stopped a few steps from them, taking a moment to try and rub the bleariness from his eyes.

"There's an explanation for this that I'm missing, isn't there?" He half thought he was still dreaming. But the fact that he wasn't all that surprised by this argued otherwise.

It wasn’t exactly hard to convince Gadget to stay still in front of the chair while she examined his visual network—he seemed almost as interested to understand more of himself as she was to learn about him. She wasn’t a golem engineer, by any means, but she’d dabbled, and generally knew mechanical things well enough to talk the talk, such as it was. She’d started by waving a finger in front of his face, asking him to track it. Curiously, he seemed to have anticipatory tracking of some kind—he was just a little ahead of her at times, until she called him out on it. Turned out, he was calculating, projecting her movements over space and time, and taking cues from something. She guessed he might be reading her muscle movement somehow, as he was moderately less successful tracking her automail arm the same way.

Maybe, though, that had something more with how she treated the limb than anything about him. It was curious either way, and she’d moved in closer to peer with scrutiny at his actual visual receptors. Glass, she thought, and beautifully-colored. Only someone like Morgause would take the time to put a yellow lotus pattern around a fully-colored pupil, then surround that with a multi-hued green iris. It was an attention to detail that frankly made Gwen a little jealous. The glass lens seemed to be covered over with some kind of membrane, which gave the eyes a very realistic appearance of being moist. She was almost certain Mordecai did not need to blink, however, as he had yet to do so throughout their entire examination. Uninterrupted visual feed.

She was only distantly conscious of the fact that someone new had entered the room, and scientific interest rendered the presence irrelevant for the moment—Sven could take care of anything the crew needed dealt with. She was doing something more important. Her tune changed a little when the person spoke, though, and Gwen blinked, drawing back about a foot from Gadget and turning the full force of a mischief-laden grin on Theon. “Of course,” she replied facetiously. “Gadget here was asking about human things, so I was teaching him about staring contests. I guess the finer points of touch will have to wait until tomorrow though, right Gadget?” She paused a moment, a thoughtful look crossing her face, then shook her head, snickering.

“Dream-journal time?” she asked Theon, hopping down from the chair. She wasn’t sure if he’d want to talk about it with Sunshine and Gadget here or not, but she didn’t mind it either way. It might be good for him to talk to other people about things like this, but she certainly wasn’t going to push it. She generally tended to know when it was okay to prod, tease, and nudge, and when it wasn’t. Whether she chose to heed or disregard these cues was another matter.

Mordecai certainly knew how to be still, and save for the occasional movement of his eyes at her request, he might as well have been a sculpture. He was unsure how to express it, but he was… grateful, that Mistress Gwendolyn, while unwavering in her determination that he was ‘human if he wanted to be,’ was still willing to help him understand the precise natures of his functionalities. He knew some things, but these were mostly whats, not hows or whys. She’d submitted him to a number of small tests, but nothing overly troubling, and though spending a few minutes as the Elysium’s AI the other day had been a most unsettling experience, it was also quite enlightening.

He, not nearly so absorbed in what was going on as she was, noticed immediately when Master Theon entered, though as he had been told to remain still, he did, at least until she adjusted her attention, at which point he thought it prudent to reconfigure his own as well. For a moment, he didn’t understand why she’d presented an obvious falsehood as the explanation for their current locations, but then he thought about it, and produced understanding.

“Mistress Gwendolyn provides an explanation you do not have, but not the correct one,” he said, sounding almost proud of himself for figuring out the word game. Well, whatever the case, he didn’t elaborate, deciding that she would if it was really important. Perhaps she was trying to keep some measure of what they were doing confidential out of deference to him? That would be highly irregular—he should make sure to inform her that he did not mind her sharing the details of his specifications with others, but… maybe, maybe he did. That was a troubling thought, and Mordecai fell silent, content to let the discussion move onwards without him.

Theon just shook his head, deciding that he probably wouldn't understand what she was actually doing anyway. He pulled up a chair and fell rather heavily into it. "Yeah, got one about this source of the world we're headed to. Probably better if I don't keep it to myself."

Sunshine remained naturally quiet throughout Gwendolyn's close-quarter examination of Mordecai, occasionally glancing down from his crossed arms to see what she was exactly looking at. Hardly inches from his face, cupping his cheeks and staring deeply into his eyes—staring into glass-orbs or some sort of synthetic material that would have easily fooled him. They looked real enough, even though he wasn't blinking. It was difficult to see Mordecai as anything but human, however as soon as he spoke, it was easy enough to tell. The Lieutenant's own curiosity kept him looking in their direction, periodically listing his head to the side for a better view, only to look away whenever any inquisitive glances swept over him. He did not want to intrude on whatever Gwendolyn was trying to do, but he certainly encouraged their relationship. When prodded as to what he thought of their new companions, Sven could only say that Mordecai, in his humble opinion, was good. In whatever vague sense that was, it didn't seem to matter much.

Some may have questioned his hearing or his eyesight, but the Lieutenant still seemed very much aware that someone had joined them in the room. It may have been Theon's soft footfalls or the creak of inaudible rusty hinges. He half-turned and offered an unhelpful shrug. It hardly explained the scene before him, but he presented nothing in the form of words, either. A low grumbled-greeting slipped through his lips as he turned back towards the helm, meaty hands flicking switches and finally settling back down to his sides. Whatever conversation that needed to be said would be said with him in the room, unless Gwendolyn ordered otherwise. Either way, if Theon wanted privacy, the Lieutenant could very well tune out their conversations. When there was talk of dreams and information of the world they were about to step into, Sven pressed a button and turned to face them, expression impassive and unreadable. He, too, wanted to hear what he had to say. Gwen was nowhere near so equanimous, and hopped gladly-enough into a nearby chair, crossing her legs up underneath her and nodding. "Sounds interesting. I'd say I hope it was less... awful than the last one, but I'm not holding my breath."

"You know, it really wasn't that bad," Theon said, moving to take a seat on the ground against the wall, propping his arms up on his knees. "No blistering heat, whipping winds, scarves in my eyes, or unbearably loud noises. It seemed like a pretty nice place, actually. Which is strange, considering the world that it's apparently the source of." Shame its lushness couldn't extend to the desert parts of the world. Would have made a few years of Theon's life a hell of a lot easier.

"Anyway, I was wandering around in a forest when I heard this singing, lovely lady voices, very eerie, though, but I decided to check it out. I wander towards them and there's this lake, the clearest one you've ever seen, and the singing's coming from it, so I try to go into the lake to check it out, only this asshole comes up out of it. He's dressed in green plate armor and has a big sword, but he doesn't say anything, right? He just stands there, in my way. I try to move around him, but he just glides across the water and gets in my way. I even shot him with my duckfoot, nothing. So I ask him what his deal is, and all he does is lift up the visor of his helmet."

Theon shrugged. "All I saw under the helmet was shadow, like he was made of darkness. Then I woke up." It hadn't been as painful an experience as the desert dream, but it was no less strange or confusing. Theon had very little idea what to make of it all, which was probably a poor thing given he was the only one among them able to see the future. He had to learn how to make his powers show him something a little clearer, if that was even possible...

"Do they even have schools for scryers?" he asked, wondering if perhaps Gwen or the toaster knew. The meat slab didn't seem inclined to do more than grunt. "Seems like I need some help figuring out these damn visions. Though I can't imagine they'd have many students..." It was another way of saying he was way too important and rare of a person to fit into any kind of school.

“Pff,” Gwen replied with a wave of her hand. “Who needs a stuffy tower filled with self-important old men when you have us?” She gestured with both hands to encompass the room. There was a certain merit to the point: Gadget was practically an encyclopedia’s worth of information, and she’d know—she’d quizzed him for a few hours earlier in the afternoon. Of course, she ruined most of this merit with her next comment: “We’re more fun, and much better-looking at that. There's probably something in one of my dad's books if you're interested.” The last part managed to sound half-serious, but it was a separate issue from the one they were tackling right now, so she let it drop for the moment and went back to the dream itself. Still, it was kind of vague… the clear water reference sounded familiar, but something else he said caught her attention first.

Female voices singing… eerie and pretty… there’s no way. Is there? Gwen cupped a cheek in her hand and bobbed her head from side to side with a faint clinking. “Gadget, what do you know about the merpeople?” There were the old legends of course, but anything passed on by skyship sailors was bound to be embellished to the point of near-unreality. There was a seed of truth in most of them, sure, but it was hard to find amidst all the blossoming fantasy, so to speak. The mention of merpeople got a surprised half-smirk from Theon, and he looked expectantly up at the toaster.

There seemed to Mordecai to be a number of different places to start from, elements of the dream that could be cross-referenced with his data, but Gwen—she’d finally convinced him to drop the ‘Mistress’ bit—pointed him in a direction, and he dutifully picked up the thread of thought. “The merfolk were an ancient race of people, believed descended from the Inflectori, with adaptations to aquatic environments. The one intact merfolk fossil known to modern scholarship is kept in the Galatean Royal Museum, but it is speculated that several more might exist on the Deluge black markets. Physical characteristics include fins, concentrated on the arms, legs and back, webbed hands and feet, and gills along the side of the neck.”

He paused for a moment, then prefaced his next piece of information with a disclaimer. “Little else survives in science, but it is popularly believed that the natural magic of the Inflectori came to be largely sound-based amongst the merfolk, which led to the rumors of the unwary being led to their deaths my enchantment of this nature.” He blinked, trying to put together the information in a way that would approximate what Gwen was doubtless already thinking. “You believe that what Master Theon heard was the song of the merfolk?” It seemed difficult to believe, given their present state of extinction, but perhaps it was metaphor for something. Mordecai struggled with metaphor, and tended to misinterpret even the ones he was able to recognize as such. Gwen shrugged; as a scientist, she knew better than most that there were things in the world that science didn't know as well as it thought it did, and she wasn't going to discount anything at this point. Metaphor or no, it was an intriguing possibility.

“There is nothing in this unit’s data storage about a knight in green plate armor.”

"Well," Theon said, "if they're anything like some of the stories told in Deluge, I don't think I'd mind meeting one or two." They probably weren't, though. Magical murderers through song seemed more likely. Or maybe the toaster was just better at seeming like he knew what he was talking about than the storytellers in Deluge were. Either way, he didn't mind the way Master Theon sounded, and certainly wouldn't be convincing him to drop it any time soon. Always the paragon of maturity that she was, the captain snickered. She'd heard a fair few of those stories herself.

The Lieutenant's expression soured, if that was at all possible. His fleshy fingers drummed tunelessly against his metal forearm, beating a rhythm of mild annoyance. Theon's tone—at first peculiarly self-gratifying and gratingly proud—had begun to irk him, sullying what he was really trying to say. The differences between the twins seemed so polar, but now, it was difficult not to note their similarities. Even so, he listened. The dream itself offered him no hints. He hadn't been savvy to their first dream-sharing conversation, after all. Had he been aware of what would happen in the desert? He wasn't sure. Questioning him now seemed pretty useless. If his dreams were important enough to share, then they'd need to pick it apart and figure out if it would give them an upper hand when they reached their destination. His eyebrows raised inquiringly, swinging over to where Gwendolyn was sitting.

More like man-eating sirens. Of course, the military sashayed with the government enough to discuss everything under the sun. This usually included restricted subjects. Black market dealings and nearly-instinct races were always fastidiously swept under the rug. This didn't like being surprised and they didn't like sharing information, either. The Lieutenant only inclined his head, studying Mordecai as he relayed what he knew on the subject. He, too, had been allowed to peruse through Leo's old books—at length, whenever he was feeling blue. It was a wonder he still struggled with the English language, bumbling through the words like a child piecing together a puzzle. Never bothered him any, because he preferred speaking in his mother tongue. Only Gadget understood him. He couldn't help but snort when Theon wondered aloud as to whether or not there were more scryers, doubting the possibility. The word was familiar enough, because every sector of the government sought them out. Wriggling grubby fingers around their necks. His eyes focused stolidly on the boy, and he said, “Arroganz vermindert Klugheit.”

Arrogance diminishes wisdom. Had Percy said that to him once, or had he read that somewhere? Perhaps, it had been Myrddin. It sounded like something he'd say. Scryers were supposedly dangerous. Useful when needed and inappropriate when not. His lip curled and formed a hard line before he shrugged his shoulders, arms still crossed. Someday, like they all did at some point, he'd be knocked down a few pegs. He knew more about scryers than he did about merfolk. He knew more about other unsavory beasties, as well. He'd been in the business of hunting them down and eradicating them. Shepherding soldiers out like mercenaries had been a popular option to keep them motivated. Whether or not they still did this was unknown to him. All ties and connections had been cut since his brother's death (and more importantly, hers). A knight in green armour and merfolk. Both of which seemed threatening to them, unless the armoured-man acted as some sort of guiding figure. Another guardian?

As always, the Lieutenant kept his thoughts to himself. Theon raised an eyebrow at the one comment Sven did make, with an obvious bit of confusion. "Uh... alright then." His look didn't seem too friendly, but the guy obviously didn't have anything to say to Theon, so he just shrugged at Gwen instead, figuring he'd take his leave pretty quickly here.

Gwen raised a brow in Sunshine’s general direction, a bit confused by his apparent hostility. Sure, Theon’s thoughts and mannerisms were more than a bit… colorful, but they lived on a ship full of sailors—it was hardly anything worse than that. Actually, she thought he was kind of funny. But then, Sunshine had a lot more life experience than she did, and she knew there were things he didn’t share, even with her. Their relationship just wasn’t like that; each was allowed their secrets, and they supported each other anyway. Sighing lightly, she returned her attention to the scryer.

“Well, at least we have some idea what we’re in for, now. I’ve never heard of this Green Knight, either, but if there are merfolk about, we’ll have to be wary. If they’re just a metaphor for something… we’ll still have to be wary, so there’s that. Thanks for the help, Daisy—we’d be flying blind without you. And you, Gadget, otherwise I’d be spending hours in dad’s library right now, and I think Spikey might sleep in there…” She grinned good-naturedly.