day 194 :: prose [OPEN] :: oh, where do we begin?

[amourtician]

Who: Jay Zimin and anyone who spots him and wishes to approach him.
Open: Open
When: day 194
Where: northern Bastion -- near the onsen
What: Jay arrives in the Bastion, convinced he's hallucinating or worse.
Format: log
Warnings: foul language. Jay curses quite a lot. Blood and self-injury in Jay's thread with Zulf. Quite a lot of flirting (I'm sorry). Gore in Jay's thread with Crona.


The first thing Jay spots upon leaving the Skyway is the hot springs, which he finds completely out of place and baffling. However, there are some nice flat stones to sit on and the place doesn't seem very dangerous. Given how much he aches all over, it doesn't take him very long at all to make his way to the edge of the onsen and perch himself, delicately, on one of the stones.

He takes a furtive look around, sees no one at the first glance and proceeds to unlace and take off his elaborate, high-heeled boots and put them gently on the ground. He rests his swollen feet, clad in delicate silk stockings, on his valise and sighs, very deeply. He walked for far too long, in stiff and uncomfortable formal clothes.

He's too shocked and disoriented to be frightened and most of what he feels is kind of a numb, mild surprise. He's aware that very odd and very bad things have happened, but he's not able to process it fully.

He takes his cigarette case out of the valise and lights up, mostly out of boredom. His brilliantly blue, slightly phosphorescent eyes dart to and fro, looking for any sign of danger or other people or, really, anything that would go some way towards explaining what's happened.

Anyone passing by would see an androgynous young person, very dark-skinned, perhaps 20 or so years old, dressed fairly peculiarly by most standards -- he's wearing a floor-length, black, pleated skirt, a 20s-style starched shirt with a high collar and cravat and a waistcoat and suit jacket that appear to be Regency-styled. He's also wearing quite a lot of makeup and false eyelashes, a top hat, gloves and an obscene number of rings. There's a sharp, jagged scar on one of his cheeks and one of his ears is a ragged stump. The other is long and currently turned down, like a cat's in distress.

Comments

[aprettyred]

This isn't a mind she's come across before. Out of curiosity, Anna leaves the Day Care center with Mikoto, who is just barely small enough for her to carry.

And she just quietly watches this new person for a bit. Nothing really stands out to her but red, because that's the color she actually sees - it explains a great deal, though. She's wearing a rather fluffy red and black dress, as always.

"Just got here?"

[amourtician]

Jay looks up at the sound of Anna's voice and raises an eyebrow at her, half in greeting. Then he notices Mikoto and his expression turns to that of surprise. He's very, very tired and not thinking clearly at all, so all he can think is "ah, that's a very large bug" and blink at Mikoto in confusion.

"Er, yes," he says, still staring at Mikoto. "Er. What ... who ... who are you holding, darling?"

[aprettyred]

Mikoto is a very large bug, but also a very lazy one. His feet wiggle just a little at the attention. Anna is okay with this topic change, she knows that the nature of the Bastion isn't one that makes people happy, and its fine to put off shocking people further..

"This is Mikoto. He is a Larvesta." Anna holds the bug out a bit. "N says when he's full grown, he will be able to breathe fire. Right now, he's just warm."

[amourtician]

Jay's eyes widen in pleasant surprise and he reaches a hesitant hand towards Mikoto. "Is he a fire spirit of some kind? He's rather too ... fuzzy to be a dragon."

He smiles at both Mikoto and Anna. "My name is Jay Zimin. Please, dearest, just call me Jay."

[superdrowningskills]

It's the scent that attracts Alucard. Normally he doesn't particularly pay much attention to goings on in the onsen, but he cannot recall anyone else in the Bastion smelling of cosmetics and finery that has not yet taken on the the scents of the Skyway. He finds himself curious enough to wander over to see what sort of individual the new arrival - and they must be a new arrival - might be.

If the pale man had any expectations on the person he finds, it's certainly not enough to bother with anything more than an expression rather reminiscent of a wild animal sizing up whether or not they're looking at a friend or foe.

"...You have recently arrived?"

[amourtician]

Jay glances at the source of the voice and his mildly bored expression changes immediately, lightning-quick, to a surprised smile. Alucard's very easy on the eyes and dressed very well. There are worse people to encounter while apparently stranded in an unknown place full of ... odd things like Mikoto.

"Oh, hello, darling!" he chirps, even if his voice is hoarse with tiredness. His ears perk up, both the intact one and the stump pointing up. "I'm afraid so. Er. I seem to be rather ... lost."

[superdrowningskills]

The smile isn't returned, although Alucard does relax a fraction at the friendly response.

"This is the Bastion. We are the only known safe haven on the Skyway," he says, not quite sure how to phrase the full truth in a gentle manner.

[amourtician]

Jay would probably misinterpret the full truth right now, in any case, so he just nods, slowly, as if in a stupor.

"The Skyway," he says, carefully. "Ah. Tell me, darling," his voice turns into a purr on the last word, almost involuntarily. Flirting is such a pleasant distraction from being who-knows-where, after all. "Is that ... er, the place I just left? Safe haven from ... what exactly?"

[fuckthemancers]

It's the smell of something burning that draws Zulf's attention. As someone who grew up in a culture that adored smoking pipes, it's something that easily catches him. It takes a little bit of searching but not too much. A style like that is hard to miss, after all. Slowly, just to make sure that the other has enough time to spot him, he comes over before he slowly gestures to a spot not too far from the newcomer.

"Mind if I sit and smoke as well?" It's a casual, non-threatening question, or so he hopes. So far the other seems like they've adjusted, but who knows? Shock is a bit different from rolling with the punches.

[amourtician]

Jay looks up at Zulf and beams. He's starting to doubt he's awake and sober, mostly because he normally does not see more than one well-dressed, delicate young man a month, never mind two in the space of less than a few hours. He's hallucinating that he's somewhere where he no longer stands out quite as much, clearly. "That," he thinks to himself, "or I'm dead and the Lord of Song took me, instead of the Drowned Queen".

Those thoughts, however, do not show on his face in the slightest.

"Of course, darling," he purrs and gestures at the rock nearest to him. "Feel free."

[fuckthemancers]

Perhaps someone who's just used to the strange then? Zulf is still quietly trying to figure out the state of things. Still, smoking brings people together as far as Ura culture is concerned. So he smiles back. There's some ruffling in his skirts before he procurs a pipe- a childhood habit and skill from more than a few years out on streets. Soon enough he's settled down, the pipe alight and smoke filling his lungs as he takes in a deep breath from the pipe. The smoke which is blown out is pale and sweet scented, curling in on itself lazily.

With the smoke curling about his head a bit, he looks back to the other, pipe held delicately but naturally between his fingers. "I should introduce myself. My name is Zulf. It seems you've just arrived here, haven't you? Or I haven't been paying nearly as much attention as I should be."

[amourtician]

Jay inhales the sweet smoke of the pipe, quite by accident, and makes a mental note to ask Zulf about the tobacco he uses. His own cigarettes are unfiltered and strong and rather foul, but he can't afford nicer ones and he's never been partial to pipes (Rook used to tease him about pipes not being phallic enough for him, a fact he remembers with an almost imperceptible flinch). In his flustered and tired state, he'd forgotten to use a cigarette holder.

While Zulf lights his pipe, Jay watches him, quietly, without much comment. When the man introduces himself, Jay smiles at him, not quite looking him in the eye, choosing to instead keep his gaze on his mouth.

"I'm Jay Zimin, darling," he says, still a hint of a flirtatious purr in his voice. "Please, call me Jay. I've ... ah. Yes, I've just arrived in this place. Wherever it is." He gestures with the hand that's holding the cigarette, leaving trails of smoke in the air. "It's ... er. Quite interesting. You've got ... some very strange people, here. And ... other things--" he cuts off, aware that he's said something rather awkward, and blushes.

[blackblooded]

Crona has been here longer than almost everyone. This means that the meister is probably best suited for the welcoming committee. But really, it's difficult. Crona is still shy, still awkward, still nervous, especially with new people.

But it's something Crona works on, something the meister is trying to get better at, and this new person is probably going to need help.

"Um..." The lilac-haired teenager is thin, tall, body language almost painfully awkward and shy. Crona's dressed in rather terribly mismatched clothing, a striped skirt slightly too short, battered leather workboots, a top that (while brightly colored) matches absolutely nothing.

"A-are you new?"

[amourtician]

Jay cocks his head to one side, contemplating Crona's outfit. Right. He's almost definitely hallucinating. No mortal (or, for that matter, sufficiently acclimated spirit) could dress themselves like that, unless they were one of those very rare people that are completely colourblind.

"Er, yes, darling," he says, after about a minute. "I am. I've ... I've just found this place. Whatever it is."

[blackblooded]

'Darling' is not actually a word Crona's ever heard before.

"It's the Bastion." There's an explanation for Jay. Not a very good one, but Crona's not the best with explanations.

"Um. It's... it's a safe place. Everything else was destroyed. But this place survived, and there are lots of people here, and we're rebuilding things."

[amourtician]

Jay nods. Well, the Skyway did look a little ... knocked about. He's never heard of anywhere named the Bastion, but he supposes it's not totally impossible he stepped through to, say, another dimension. Or maybe through one of those famed windows to one of the other planets orbiting the sun Ain. His brain offers these suggestions right after the more obvious one, which is that Mir was destroyed. He puts that one right out of his mind. It's not a good thought, nor, he decides, a useful one.

"Safe," he says, a touch blandly, deciding that this is far more important. And easier to think about, of course, but that estimation is tossed out along with the idea that Mir is gone. "Er. How safe, dearest? Are we talking fortress beset by monsters or a latter-day Dilmun?" He means the primordial city, allegedly founded by the first shoggot to reach Mir, when Mir was chaotic but, by and large, safer. He's quite prepared to explain all that, if Crona is confused.

[hellpyre]

Cigarettes? Who the hell in the Bastion smokes besides Zulf?

Questions Rin was asking as she was approaching the onsen, the scent from those faint wisps catching her attention pretty quickly even before she got near the changing house.

She had intended to go there for a long soak herself after working all day, but her curiosity of the source got the better of her, leading her to slip inside through the changing house and in to the onsen without undressing herself.

... oh.

That sure is an unfamiliar face. And a whole lot of fancy clothes.

"... y'could get in, y'know. There's a changin' room right back there."

[amourtician]

Jay looks up at Rin, sharply, and lets out a croaking, rather mirthless laugh. He waves her suggestion aside.

"Darling, darling, no," he says. "I have ... no appropriate bathing clothes and I'm not getting in naked. That's just indecent!"

Plus, he's not even sure if "appropriate bathing clothes" would conceal the tentacles adequately. He doesn't want to be tried for witchcraft or hung as an abomination just yet.

[hellpyre]

U... huh. New guy. She thought as much. She returns the response with a laugh of her own, crossing arms over her chest.

"That's actually how an onsen works. There's towels in the changin' room, and the curtain up there," she points a finger at the folded back curtain that was connected to a track above Jay's head, "slides across to divide the hot spring."

[amphibian]

Aoi has made a routine for herself: daily Skyway trips in the late afternoon followed usually by a quick dip in the onsen to wind down. Today, she returns absolutely filthy from Jawson's Bog without much more in the way of rewards than usual, aside from some scrapes.

Her hair's falling out of her ponytail and her clothes are covered in grime as she walks by—and even as she approaches, she can smell the smoke, and she immediately thinks wow, ew. Do people who aren't Zulf actually smoke here?

Once she finds the source, she stops walking and her eyebrows shoot up for a moment before her face scrunches up in distaste. There's no telling how much of that look is for the cigarette and how much is for that outfit, because she's having a difficult time processing all of that. She knew a guy with a piercing in his facial hair and a world-famous gyaru, and yet, this. This. Fashion is so, so beyond her.

But she doesn't recognize this face, and she's certainly not one to be rude to the newbies. Instead of trying to figure out why anyone wears top hats anymore or asking for the cigarette to go, she asks, "You're new here, aren't you?"

[amourtician]

"Huh?" Jay peers at Aoi and tries very hard to control his face. He's never seen someone who wasn't lamentably employed as a coal miner or other thankless, filthy job walk around so dirty and ill-kempt. He manages to stop himself from shaking his head or rolling his eyes, too, though it takes a lot of self-control. The fact he's still dazed from everything that's happened helps -- he's not really able to parse anything happening as real, just yet.

"I suppose so, dearest," he says, mildly. "I'm Jay Zimin -- ahh, please, just ... call me Jay."

[amphibian]

Immediately, her pursed expression stretches into a bright, amicable grin. "My name's Aoi Asahina! Anything you wanna call me's fine." Being on first-name basis with everybody all the time is far from the weirdest thing she's gotten used to here.

"Soooo... Didja get the grand tour yet?" Since she hasn't already been assailed with questions, he must have at least gotten the basic run-down, but she has to check. "There's a lot to catch up on, and a whole bunch to see around here!"

[heroofbrightwall]

For his own part Rowan had been keeping himself generally busy. He didn't know how to comfort the people around him, wasn't sure how to communicate and while he wanted very dearly to try, he had fallen short so many times that he eventually just went to work and quietly helped out behind the scenes, doing repairs and cooking on occasion when the young fire-monkey-cat-girl-thing lady wasn't in the kitchens. As such, he didn't particularly ever welcome anyone to the Bastion and never really thought it was his place to step in and offer advice or directions when so many other people were more qualified; when he was wandering between buildings carrying a load of lumber on his shoulder and nearly tripped over the dark-skinned newcomer, the young Prince was fairly certain he'd nearly peed himself in fright.

"OH! Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there. This isn't really much of a sitting place! Oh, no no, not that I was insinuating you're responsible, its nothing like that, I'm just not accustomed to people being there so I wasn't watching where I was going, entirely my fault. Sorry, sorry!" the young man rambled, teetering back and forth and gripping the cut lumber with both hands, struggling to keep them from sliding away after his abrupt halt.

Much like Jay, Rowan had a flair for unusual clothing, though his preference was clearly feminine in nature, the styles and cuts of female fashion looking deceptively masculine on him. He wore tight leather breeches that laced up the thighs, tall suede boots, long suede gloves and fluttery silk blouses under elegantly embroidered vests, and all in gold, violet and crisp white. For one obviously doing hard labor, he kept remarkably clean and hardly seemed to be breaking a sweat, though the thick brown curls and waves of his hair were a bit damp and sticking to his face, framing his flushed face and large, doe brown eyes. He even smelled - oddly enough - like fresh cherry pies.

"Ahh, ah, sorry. Hang on. Hm, got it...whoops!" he cried out, a plank sliding out from behind his grip and clattering to the ground. With that one out of the way, he managed to regain his balance, color suffusing his cheeks in his embarrassment. "I apologize. I promise I'm not always this much of a hazard," he insisted, educated English accent coloring every syllable.

"Terrible first impression to leave. Horrible. I almost don't want to introduce myself so I have a chance to get it again on a day when I'm brilliant instead of boorish. Ah well," he mumbled, carefully setting the lumber aside at last and dusting his hands off before offering one.

"Rowan. I ah, don't believe I've seen you here before, though that's not saying much. Small as this place is I hardly know anyone. Ha."

[amourtician]

Jay, who'd been partially entranced by his own thoughts (going around and around in circles concerning, for example, Crona and her eeriness and that comment about his liver and the dragons Anna mentioned and Lord knows what else), started when Rowan spoke to him and almost dropped his cigarette into the onsen. He looked up at the Prince with some slight shock still playing on his features, his mouth open in a moue of confusion. After about ten seconds, Jay realised he was staring and gave an uncharacteristically shy -- though clearly appreciative -- smile. Half of it was for Rowan's body and half of it for his fashion sense: despite being dressed rather more soberly than usual just prior to ending up on the Skyway and in the Bastion, Jay's tastes generally ran to ostentatious and flamboyant.

He took a drag on the cigarette, eyes half-hooded, trying to look if not composed, then at least not completely lost. Rowan's chatter was charming and Jay found himself smiling once again.

"It's quite all right, darling," he said, softly, adding a slight purr to his voice, once Rowan came to a pause. "No, really! You're busy and ... making yourself useful, I'm just sitting here. You're not a hazard in the slightest." He smiled again. "I'm Jay, dearest. Jay Zimin. I'm ... I suppose I'm new here. Just arrived." He took another languid drag on his cigaretted and added, "you're hardly boorish. I've met my fair share of boors and none of them were as ... well put-together as you are."

Now he was just flirting shamelessly, but if called on that, he would have claimed that it was soothing to his nerves. And he had always, always been a shameless flirt.

[heroofbrightwall]

Good luck getting called out, Jay. Rowan probably wouldn't notice if he was being flirted with even if a person put their hands down his pants. Well, maybe.

Rowan's smile was broad and charming, precisely the face that convinced so many people to follow him into battle back home when he was nothing more than the untried fugitive brother of the king. Reaching up and pushing his damp curls out of his face, the young man simply shrugged if off. If Jay wasn't upset, he had no reason to be, either.

"I don't know if I'm that useful, in all honesty. I just go around making repairs where I see them. Its the best I can really do if I'm not out trying to make the Skyway a little safer, but a lot of people do that and I'm not one to get in the way of professionals," he explained, looking around curiously before leaning to rearrange the planks of wood. He did tilt his gaze up politely whenever he spoke, however. No reason to be rude - you looked at someone when you spoke to them.

Even if their personal habits made you want to sneeze. Even all the time in Aurora where the dark-skinned desert people were so fond of hookahs had never managed to help him get over a constant itch in his nose around any kind of smoke that wasn't cooking related.

"Well put-together? That's kind of you to say, haha. I really thought I looked a bit of a mess. I know I'm filthy. But new, you say? That's wonderful! Oh! I mean, its wonderful to meet new people. Obviously all the circumstances aren't very wonderful, but its a pleasure to make someone else's acquaintance. Its a big place, but sometimes it feels a little small," he remarked, looking down briefly to pull splinters of wood out of his gloves.