Red Hat: The House of Orphans

[RBUseless]

A smile, yet again: the spectator in the Red Hat was enjoying himself. Watching the play unfolding in the grove with one all-seeing eye, he found himself appeased; the gnat was bleeding (and irony in itself for a bloodsucker) and the little detective was almost certainly about to do some sleuthing. He contemplated rewarding or punishing her for her casual shooting of her roommate, despite it being almost totally due to his own prompting, but decided against it. He wanted to see how she would react to the next part of the act, changing the script now would only confuse her.

With the other eye, he observed another pair in another set of trees; they were bonding nicely, and beginning to explore. He concluded that it would be best to leave them to their little excursion for the meantime; he was holding them in reserve, ready to be shoved into either on of the two scenes unfolding. But to entertain them while they were waiting, he turned the ground beneath their feet to ice; painting a frozen tundra under them. It was at the forefront of the father’s mind, so what better to give him?

The corporeal form in the Red Hat had not moved, despite his attention being so divided, nor did he miss any of the events unfolding in the little drama he was participating in personally. The actor in the Red Hat was stunningly pleased with his own performance, especially when directing elsewhere.

His response to the clay being was accompanied by a cryptic smile.

‘A question asked by every sentient creature since there were words to ask it with. Who would I be to answer it for them? Self discovery works only if one’s discoveries are made unaided. You have asked the crucial question, of course, but the only answer that can legitimately be given is “why do YOU think you are here?”.’

When the symbiotic soldier fell, he didn’t so much as flinch. He replaced the pain with a fierce joy, threading it with the threat of the pain returning if obedience was not observed. That particular child wanted to act like a wild beast? The trainer in the Red Hat cared little, but a beast was instructed with none of the subtlety and compassion that a child would have received.

It was a simple theory, yet an affective one: show them pain, so much that they couldn’t stand it, then wash them with a beautiful joy, to make the pain seem that much more terrible. None would desire the return of the pain, and it made them that much more compliant.

The girl, the butterfly with painted wings that convinced herself that she was fierce, had not spoken in some time, but the schoolmaster in the Red Hat let her be; he was curious of her silence, and wanted to hear just what she said when the words finally sprung from her young mouth.

/*\

Sam had to think long and hard before he came up with an answer to that, wanting to sound wise, rather than confused and scared. The being beside him wasn’t picking up on anything untoward, and Sam himself was jumping at shadows and the slightest rustle of the leaves; he was beginning to feel paranoid.

“We should head in a set direction, and keep to it.” He said at length. “If we keep going, there’s a chance of finding something or someone of use. We need to think about how we’re going to live here as well: shelter, water, food and warmth. Shelter isn’t too much of a problem at the moment, because the conditions are mild, and we’re covered by the trees, and there’s dry leaves and twigs to make a fire if it gets cold when the sun sets. Food and water are going to be more difficult, water especially so, so we need to think about tracking down a stream.”

It sounded so organised, and he was proud of himself… for about three seconds, which was enough time for the entire world to change under his feet.

[Tyro]

And you could practically hear most of the water freeze under their feet as the winter laid its blanket around their feet.
"Oh bugger..." He said as he watched everything get covered by ice. Weird that he knew what it was but not where from. Obviously he'd have to get used to that. He took a step forwards, barely noting the crunch as he watched the white flakes make it though the gaps in the trees.
"That happened pretty fast. Should it do that?" He looked at Sam, quizitively.

[SpearedGrave1]

"Whoa! you really zigged when you should'a zagged" Namoi blurted out with a faint amount of amusement as she strolled up to her victim. She wanted to push forth confidence and control, especially with all the tugging emotions under her steel facade. Put into this guy's mind that she was the uncontested victor of their little encounter. Then maybe he'd finally cooperate.

She stopped about a foot away from his face and let the moment hang for a second before squatting down to get a good look at him. Her enchanted eyes darting all around his form trying to fully make out just what he was. This close and without the blinding aura of a certain insect, much of her previous conclusions were coming into question. In Namoi's line of work, every night had at least some contact with a vampire. The way their auras always hued with pale and stood still marking their domination over time and death. It was one of those things you just didn't mistake for anything else. And then out came the fangs, that undeniable vampiric trait.

But to counter point; the whole grove was illuminated by sunlight. Which was basically the bane of all vampires. Plus this guy was bleeding, and in her world, vampires didn't bleed in such excess from a few bits of lead. Vampires also didn't possess the ability to interact with magic on the level that is necessary to create an alternate dimension. So what the hell is this thing? A lynch?

Not wanting to drop the intimidation act Namoi pulled back on the forestock yet again. The smoking remains of a shell flew out of the camber as another round was feed in to replace it. "You know you're quite the puzzle. An arch-mage with fangs that abducts people from the backseat of limos." She gave the statement a pause. "Ya, doesn't make much sense to me either. But right now, we've got bigger problems unless you can lick-aity-split a fully staffed ER out of your ass. Cus your bleeding out. So either you tell me how to undo this whole inner dimensional timespace thing and we go back to the real world. Or you can live out the last tenish minutes of your life with my annoying voice beating into your eardrums, accompanied by the occasional kick in the ribs."

[Sarcor]

Nadian saw out of the corner of his eye that the mad soldier fell, twitching, to the floor. At the same time, the Red Being sent pulses along his conduits that faded as they traveling mind boggling distances.

Be wary. Instant death awaits you if you displease.

That voice again!! Who are you?! Nadian shouted into his mind. He wished it would go away for the time being. He had enough problems to deal with. Gathering himself Nadian responded, "We are obviously your playthings if you can do what you will with us." He pointed to the insane warrior. Then Nadian looked at the Being's smile, though he thought of it as a picture plastered on the flesh. "And take pleasure from it."

[TFairy]

Alish was trying to sum up the right words, vaguely aware of how powerful the man in front of her was, and was about to speak when the soldier fell. Although sparing no sympathy for him, the captain found herself wondering if she should reply or not--either option could end in an ending just like that for her. One she mightn't wake up from.
She bit her lip, trying to speak up again. She didn't particularly like being in the presence of someone powerful; It made her feel small, and weak, and unimportant.
"You know about us, am I right? It's like an unwritten law, that's what the Hunter said to me. That's how he tricked me the last time. Then you'll know about how I'm... special. You know why my heads empty. It's driving me mad, every single thought is echoing..."
Alish shook her head, rubbing her temples, "Or maybe I'll be able to get over it, I haven't had a head to myself in ages."

[[Sorry everyone. Christmas Exams+Christmas+Christmas Holiday Study+Annoying relatives have resulted in my lack of posting, and lack of creativity. Sorry. =/]]

[Arke]

Suddenly, the burning was gone. Gone, gone gone! It disappeared as suddenly as it came, almost like an illusion. So sudden was the change, one might have gone mad. But this is one mad soldier you talk about. It was unnatural, this happiness. The giddiness that was never allowed on or off the battlefield, just efficient killing. Nothing. It turned the world colorful, blues, reds, greens he could not see. But there was a catch. A whisper of the ghostly pain, a warning. Take it and be grateful. "I did not kill you. Learn to obey someone other than your comrades." It said, the meaning somewhat twisted by the workings of his mind. Observing him, one did not expect him to give in to the pain so easily. Clearly, they overestimated.

The joy was infectious. His entire body felt happiness that constant war had eroded away. Bloodlust and happiness were not the same thing, but it was the closest thing to it. He swore violently, the effect marred by the idiotic grin spread across his face like a child sprawled on the snow. There was no denying the grin was real and true, but on the face of a soldier like him, it was disturbing, if only a little.

I staggered to my feet, my eyes glaring into the Lard-Butt and my grin reflecting any light that hit it. It was embarassing. My glare softened, and instead of trying to punch myself in the necessaries to end the freakish grin, I sat down and listened to what the goddamn god of fat had to say. "So you brought us all here for your amusement. Let me ask you these questions. Why me? Why a soldier? You obviously have more interesting things in this forsaken heaven, take Scaly-skin or Yarrr-ette the pirate entertaining you." I stopped there, refusing to fear dear Scales or the Cut-lassie. At this point, my mood was in limbo between fierce joy and sarcastic sullenness. I didn't play nice. You could look at my resume and say so. "Hey, Karoda. What are you work skills?" one will ask. "Oh, you know. The usual. Killing people and fighting." I will respond.

§

[Dan-Nal-Khali]

The first thing Valentine registered was confusion; he was hurting, but he wasn’t sure why. Logically, he shouldn’t be in pain, at least, not the type of burning, penetrating agony that was lacing all the way up his side. He didn’t ever feel that type of pain; he could always outrun it. Broken bones, poisoning, bruises, blisters; these were common, familiar afflictions; he could cope with them, because he had dealt with them before.

This, on the other hand, was something that he couldn’t remember ever having experienced before (not that his memory was completely trustworthy at the present time, seeing as his entire focus was locked on PAIN).

Blinking up at the sky, he drew in a choked breath, surprised by just how difficult the process was. He felt cold, which should have been odd, seeing as his skin had been burning, and the sun was still above him despite having ceased its odd torture, but he couldn’t seem to dredge up much concern. His thoughts, usually accelerated to a hundred miles per hour and racing along faster than even he could follow, had slowed to the consistency of molasses; dripping through his consciousness like rapidly congealing tar.
...or perhaps the blood forming a sticky, crimson pool under him.

"Whoa! You really zigged when you should ‘a zagged!"

...was that his voice? Valentine took a moment to work out that no, it wasn’t his voice; that was a woman’s voice, and he was a man. Aure. His mind locked onto his small, quick-tempered best friend at once, despite the voice clearly belonging to no one of the sort; that didn’t seem to register at the present. The lack of French accent and aristocratic speech pattern couldn’t quite filter in either, adding to his certainty that is was, in fact, the beautiful female vampire above him rather than some unknown and certainly dangerous adversary.
“’s funny way a’puttin’ i’Aure.” His mouth was uncooperative, filled with some unknown but certainly familiar liquid. “Did’y knock me on m’assagen?”

She was still speaking. He’d probably spoken over her, but his addled mind was unable to grasp more than a sentence or so at a time, and that alone was hard work. It bothered him a little, seeing as he was sure that he usually could hold several conversations at once. Crimson! That was the name he was looking for! He felt suddenly delighted with himself; what an achievement (the fact that he had been trying to remember nothing of the sort went straight over his head).

Crimson really did get agitated when Val was around, (not that he wasn’t always in some form of bad mood or other), his standard grouchiness elevating to all-out irritation when the German stopped by to say hello. And call him names, knowing the older, slower vampire hadn’t a hope of catching him. The Kyria seemed to find him annoying also, which probably added to Crimson’s violent tendencies towards Val; some sort of protective husband complex.

He really had gotten distracted; it was the molasses doing it. Molasses? He wasn’t really sure where that thought had crept from. He didn’t remember having any molasses... maybe he’d lost them.

“...Aure... where’re t’lasses?” He paused, attempting to play his last comment back to himself, as it had sounded wrong somehow. “M’cold.” That wasn’t right either, but it gave his mouth something to do while he was thinking things over.

“Moles. Moles arses.” ...was that really what he’d been trying to say? He guessed that it must have been. At least it sounded right.

(sorry it took a while; me and RB had a uni issue that we had to deal with)

[RBUseless]

‘Pleasure? The definition of a sadist is one that draws pleasure from the pain or another, but I am no sadist. A scientist, perhaps, but I feel no pleasure.’

A short-fingered hand came up to touch the wicked grin that painted the face of the creature in the Red Hat; small, flat teeth, a sharp tongue and a sharp mind to guide it.

‘A smile is the metaphor for pleasure, yes, but it can imply so many more things than that; you are limited in your observations. Maybe I am one that smiles when nervous, or when displaying aggression? How can you be sure, when all that I am is the theories within your shuttered and restricted mind?’

Arms spread, and he observed the clay being with mischievous eyes. ‘You call yourselves my toys; that is your perspective.’ The smile became truly alarming. ‘So be it.’

He reached out a hand towards Nadian, ordering a reduction in size and a change in matter status. Shrink, he commanded, become what you see yourself to be: my toy. If the being saw itself as a toy, which clearly it did, then it would just have to become one. His will was for the being to become tiny, made of wood and cloth; an animated model dragon, perhaps. That would be fitting.

...and speaking of small...

The pirate, the butterfly, the child; she was feeling small in his presence, but finally appeared to have broken her silence. It was a shame that her only words were pointless ramblings that meant about as much to the collector in the Red Hat as a insect without wings.

‘You are special?’ He advanced, somehow managing to leave his reaching arm behind without looking at all odd to the naked eye. The universe spun under his feet to accommodate his desire to stand face to face with the girl, looking her straight in the eye despite the difference in height that had existed between them mere seconds before. ‘Tell me, how are you special.’ Really, he was interested to know how she thought herself special, and of course, her answer would result in a consequence or reward, depending on its nature.

The names that the symbiotic soldier insisted on calling him were the source of much amusement; even within such a conflicted mind, the thoughts were clearly audible to the observer in the Red Hat (flashing code, line upon line of confused, close to corrupted data; the stream was infected with this virus, overlapping consciousnesses, but holding). Not particularly inventive, perhaps, but he did so love having names.

‘”Lard-Butt”?’ The voice was close to amused (as much as he could generate amusement) but still decidedly deadly. ‘Is that what you would call me? It is an inventive pet name, certainly; feel free to continue using it.’ He was nothing if not unpredictable.

‘And you all do speak of my amusement; have I not made it clear already that you project your own desires onto my face? But the consensus of opinion is not something that can be ignored.’

He had been defined as a sadist on multiple counts, so a sadist he would now be.

/*\

Flailing with a (very manly) shriek of terror, Sam’s feet went out from under him and he landed with a painful thump on the freezing ground.

“Oh that’s just fucking fantastic.” He grumbled, hauling himself back to his feet with the aid of a frosty tree-trunk. Boots slipping in all directions, he struggled to find any sort of balance; preventing himself from cricking into an insanely painful angle by luck alone.

“Fucking Vas...” For the first time, he thought of the other without worry, pain or regret, the sheer humour of the situation, and the speed with which it had occurred wiping all other thoughts away for the present.

[Tyro]

The fox looked to Sam and instantly extended a hand to help.
"Whoops. Come on, up you get." He said as he lowered himself to his level.

[SpearedGrave1]

Bad science. This was the cause that resulted in a man bathing in a puddle of his own blood. There was hardly a bit of research, just a casual glance over a few choice factors that would result in a completely distorted theory. And the experiment was non-existent. But Namoi wasn't concerned with the proper steps to enlightenment. No, she had her conclusion and despite the mounding evidence to the contrary she was right, damnit. Under a shell of control she was panicking and in this haste any number, any piece of data, was fudged to fit into her view of what was going on. She knew she was doing it too but didn't want to give in to that voice scratching in the back of her mind. That little whisper of "your wrong".

Her body hinted at her frustration as her delicate hands slowly balled themselves into fists. Her right leg was just aching to begin it's bombardment into an undefended rib cage. The thing was talking at least, but what about? There were bits of sentences to piece together that crept out for its mouth. They weren't intended for Namoi though; it was talking to someone else. Who?

"Aure?" Namoi said more to herself than the company. "Ok fine, I'll bite on this Aure of yours Mr.BleedyMcdieing"

With one swift motion she swung her shotgun around her back until it connected with the leather case that hung from her shoulder. The brown exterior turned from solid to putty inviting the weapon in with a blobisk absorbing fashion. If this was going to work then luck was going to have to be nudged ever so slightly. With only a subtle few movements Namoi worked her will on the stands of fate between herself and the wounded man. An unseen art of twisting small outcomes in events of the immediate future the two would share. Although the weave of fate is fickle the slight bump might be just what is needed to fool someone in Val's current state.

Namoi dropped down to her knees landing them in the crimson mess that quickly began to dye the white and blue striped stockings she sported. She held a brief pause to calm down and place herself into a more caring mindset. The illusion of it at least. It was a risk, but slowly one of the clenched fists opened and drifted forward to rest on the injurer's good shoulder. Namoi hunted for a voice and, by her own twisting of luck, she found one with a touch of French. That was the way of this spell, once cast it was best to let go and let your gut guide you. And Namoi's gut was telling her to mimic an old black and white film she's seen many years ago. Sure it wasn't perfect, but it was far from that of an angry smartass.

She gave the shoulder a careful push hoping for an acknowledgment while purring out in her impromptu “It’s Aure… I’m right here.” Namoi curled her fingers inward to give a reassuring squeeze. “What happened to you?”

This was a long shot but maybe it would work and if it didn’t, nothing would really change. Namoi was still very confident that she held all the chips and was content to try and play head games. She also was under the impression that his man she fervently pretended too, was in no shape to pull out any last tricks. But who knows, Namoi is a bad scientist after all.

[RBUseless]

Bad science; the scientist in the Red Hat saw it, and painted his face to fit the next degree of wicked malice. He was entertained, more so than ever before, by the newest of his orphans. She was interesting, and thought strange thoughts, despite being so very similar to so many others. She was not a kind alone, and there were others stranger than her within the House, yet her thoughts alone went to manipulation. She was like the controller in the Red Hat, and that sparked both interest and defensive anger (if it was possible for the creation in the Red Hat to feel at all).

She said that she would bite, and he took that, twisting it through the consciousness of the dying mosquito and making it stick before all else. The girl was going to bite on “Aure” who was now little more than a construct of faith, but the bleeding hurricane didn’t know that, and was quintessential in his ignorance.

The girl was pretending that she could exert control, and the mentor in the Red Hat let her have her fun. Allowing her endeavour to work would add to her delusion of power when there was none for her to have, and the choices were always expanding. The man in the Red Hat admitted himself to be most amused by her actions that were so very like his own.
Altering the path of the father and the fox, the guide in the Red Hat ordered a collision of paths. The father had been a doctor, a nursemaid and a failure; the situation was bound to interest him. Just to add to the effect, he ordered the snow to fall around girl and punctured mosquito, so that they would soon be buried.

The gentleman in the Red Hat wasn’t about to let one of his orphans die, but he would leave the ace tucked within his sleeve until it was truly needed.

/*\

Sam took the offered hand, hauling himself back to his feet with murmured thanks. The snow had seeped into his clothes, leaving him cold, and once again he was reminded of Delta Vega; finding the person that he so wanted to find, but it hadn’t been the same, and he had never thought of the others that had lost someone, because his pain had been real enough alone. He was, and ever would be, selfish.

“That way’s clearest.” He pointed to an area of shallower snow, almost like a path (a path that lead to the others, but he didn’t know it) and set off in that direction. “We need to find some shelter.”

[Tyro]

"I doubt we'll find any yet. I haven't." The fox said as he followed. Despite the large feet, they sank rather well in the snow. They padded along the white, crisp surface just behind Sam. He would have walked in silence but he had a question to ask his new friend.
"Do you know how you arrived here? You don't look like you belong..." He didn't know if he belonged here. He felt that he didn't.

[Dan-Nal-Khali]

Valentine was confused. Pathetically, painfully confused. He was sure Aure had been with him, positive that she’d come to help him, but why was someone talking about biting on her? He didn’t understand. Did she want him to bite her? That would make sense (as much as anything made sense), because he was hurting and bleeding and dying- what?

It was the hunters. The hunters had caught him. Killed his Doll and shot him. Suddenly certain, he tried to lift his head, tried to warn Aure that the hunter must still be around somewhere! …but he couldn’t. He could scarcely see; moving was impossible.

The nudge to his shoulder send a wild, burning agony singing through him and he cried out, hoarse and frightened, wondering why Aure was hurting him. Couldn’t she see how damaged he was? Why was she making it- oh, she was speaking.

He blinked, hazy green eyes unseeing, something felt off, but he couldn’t say what it was exactly. “Sho’ me…” He answered without really thinking, feeling like his brains had turned to mush, leaking out like the rapidly spilling blood. In the back of his mind, a little voice told him just how long it would take for a vampire to bleed to death. He ignored it.

“Dunno whe-ryam.” It was a struggle to speak at all, harder still to translate the words from German to English before speaking, but Aure didn’t speak German, and he didn’t speak French… “Riant. Sss… s’air’s’range…” He wasn’t even sure if he was making any sense.

Grabbing for a hand he couldn’t see, and still confused, because Aure didn’t speak like that, but it had to be Aure, Val whimpered softly. “Hur’s.”

[SpearedGrave1]

If only I could have shot him in the leg this would be so much easier. Namoi thought to herself as her ears digested the broken words of the wounded. From the pieces it seemed that this guy had no idea what was going on. Or at least couldn't put things together long enough to make any sense. A pause, that was what was needed.

Namoi pulled her hand away taking note of the blood that she had collected on it. She must have looked like a grungy murderer at this point. A bead of red rolling down from her fingers past her wrist, slowing to a stop as it lost its momentum. It was rather sickening how casually she'd wiped it across her skirt. But deep down inside she was slipping away from her facade of invulnerability. She knew what she was doing was wrong; to play with the dieing's last breaths. It was this kind of stuff that she'd always left to her Vampire master and was only a silent witness to these crimes against humanity. But in this case the blood was literally on her hands.

She shook her head as if to cast out the thoughts. Now's not the time. Namoi commanded herself. Going soft when she was already this far committed, but it was another one of those things that she was sure she'd be crying about later.

Right... back to business...

Namoi's left hand flew forward grasping hard on Val's shoulder while her other snagged his hair. She wanted to see his face. His eyes. To force some glimmer of awareness as she locked her gaze with his. At the first inclination of focus she made her decree.

"I have your Aure and if you don't start making sense. She's Dead, Got it!" Namoi made sure to stress the dead part. "Now I want you to pull yourself together and tell me everything, and I mean everything that happened. Or I'm going to sit you up so you can watch me blow her brains out all over the place."

It was confronting to know that there was no Aure to head explode. Namoi knew she didn't have the guts required to do that. She was scratching at the bottom of the barrel for ideas so it would have to be an all or nothing.