InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I am Spartacus."

Cuthbert Allgood (kaswhippingboy) wrote in chaosunraveled,
@ 2009-08-26 21:09:00

Entry tags:

alessa, cuthbert, finished thread, rating: r, setting: asgard's kitchen

Who: Alessa and Cuthbert
When: Not too long after Rachel and Cuthbert's arrival
Where: Asgard's kitchens
Ratings: R for Bert's potty mouth!
Warnings: Language
Summary: Feeling out of sorts and out of his depth, Cuthbert leaps at Alessa's offer of company for a meal.

It had been a long, strange bit of time for Cuthbert Allgood. He'd been through strange things before, certainly, and the idea of other worlds and holy wars fought in puzzles and games weren't concepts hard to grasp, but....

This place was different than anything he knew. His own bedroom was comfortably familiar enough, and he thanked the Kas-ka who had brought him here for that, but everything else was just strange.

These people didn't eat together? He couldn't get his mind around that concept. How could a group of people, of knights and soldiers, not eat together in their own palace? This was a home of the White, why weren't there nightly celebrations to toast their luck and glory?

It was hard enough to accept the fact that he had been chosen for this and not Alain, but he had assumed he would have his new ka-mates to fall back on. Not that he was the sort to let on there was anything wrong, but still.

He was extremely grateful that sai Alessa had offered to share a meal with him. He'd share khef with at least one of this strange new family he'd found himself a part of, praise the Beams for that.

He wondered briefly if people here would think his clothes were funny. They already thought he talked funny, he knew that. But he'd been speaking the High Speech and the outer-barony talk for years. What would they think of his denim trousers, his boots, his neckerchief? What if he was horribly out of fashion and every single girl in the place laughed at him?

Stupid to worry about that, but better to fret about that than the things that were really bothering him. Shrugging his shoulders and muttering a quick prayer against misfortune, Bert left his room and headed to wait at the top of the stairs for Alessa.

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bring_god_down
2009-08-27 04:42 am UTC (link)

She found it strange that only still a couple days after half the game had left, two new people to Asgard had been introduced. One of them, Cuthbert, had sort of caught Alessa's attention; due mostly to the odd way he spoke. Once Alessa had actually started to talk him though she decided that maybe he wouldn't be a bad addition to the team.

When he went on about sharing meals, and celebrations, she had offered to show him the kitchen, and eat with him. There was no harm in doing that, and the woman was trying her best to be more open to people. Not having much time, Alessa tossed on a pair of denim jeans, and a blue colored, long sleeved shirt before she exited the room, and headed for the stairs.

She spotted him, and waved. Well, least she assumed it was him. He didn't look familiar to her at all. "Hi, you must be Cuthbert?" Alessa asked, "I'm Alessa,"

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-27 04:50 am UTC (link)

The first thing Cuthbert noticed about Alessa was her hair. Where he came from, women didn't cut it. If a woman's hair was cut, it usually meant something awful had happened. Luckily his look of shock was wiped away quickly as he remembered this wasn't In-World, and Alessa wasn't from the same culture he was.

The second was that she was dressed remarkably similar to what he was used to. That was a relief.

He also noted she was quite pretty, but despite his apparent interest in female companionship, that was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment.

"Indeed I am!" he said brightly, smiling. He cocked his knee and swept a bow. "Cuthbert Allgood, at your service! And you must be the fair protector of man, Sai Alessa. Long days and pleasant nights to you! S'good to meet you face to face."

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bring_god_down
2009-08-27 05:06 am UTC (link)

She couldn't help but laugh at Cuthbert's reaction to her. "I-I apologize, I'm not used to people acting this way." she said with a small smile. "And, anyway, just call me Alessa."

About the whole defender of man thing; Alessa wasn't so sure if she really bought into all that name meaning stuff, but then again she did know that in history, names had been important. Plus, she had tried to defend man from an evil god.

"So, anything you're hungry for?" she asked. First out of curiosity, and second to get more of a gauge on his personality. "The kitchen has pretty much anything and everything you could want. Come on, I'll lead the way!"

With that said, Alessa slowly descended the stairs, making sure Cuthbert was still following her. In due time they finally made it to the kitchen. "And this is the kitchen."

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-27 05:14 am UTC (link)

"Simple as it sounds, I'd give my right hand for a popkin about now. With roast beef. Cattle weren't threading true in Mejis yet, and I haven't had roast beef in about a year." Bert followed Alessa, smiling the whole way. He'd been worried, really, that he'd be seen as an outsider. He knew how it could be, someone new coming into an established group.

"And feel free to call me Bert, all my friends do. Or did, I s'pose." Whether they had fallen or still lived, he wasn't a part of their world anymore. It was strange to think about that, so Bert just didn't.

He let out a long, low whistle when they reached the kitchen.

"What...what is all this?" Bert's eyes widened and couldn't settle on one single thing. The strange machines and the size of the room left even him speechless. He'd never seen anything like it! He'd expected something like the kitchen in Gilead. A fireplace, a few coal stoves and an overpowering smell of potatoes. This...this was like something out of a nursery story!

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bring_god_down
2009-08-27 05:33 am UTC (link)

"A popkin, is that like a sandwich or something?" Alessa mentally smacked herself, realizing that Bert probably didn't know what a sandwich was. "And wow, an entire year, huh?" Given that, she figured that he must have had a somewhat difficult life before coming here.

Judging by his reaction now she was wondering what time period he was from. "Oh, well, that thing over there is a stove and an oven. You use the stove to cook things in a pot. The oven is used to bake, roast, and broil things. That over there," she pointed to the microwave, "that's a microwave, you use it to cook things faster." Then she pointed to the fridge, "and that's the fridge; most of the perishables are kept in there, and we also keep food in the cabinets. Mostly boxed and canned food."

She walked over to the fridge, opened it, and pulled out a thing of roast beef, and placed it on the table. "Not sure what else you use to make a popkin out of, but I'm sure you'll find it."

As for Alessa, she pulled out some vegetables for a salad, along with some cut up grilled chicken. "I'm making a salad, if you were wondering. I can leave out some more if you want to make yourself one."

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-27 05:43 am UTC (link)

"Uh-uh." Bert shook his head, confronted with things he just couldn't fit into his world view. He logically knew that things were different in other worlds, and this place wasn't quite like In-World, but those shiny box things just stumped him.

"That's not a stove and that's not an oven. I know what those look like, and they're great iron monstrosities that belch smoke everywhere. Those are...lookit them, they're just boxes! What're they made out of? I've never seen stone like that!"

Could they be things like what the Great Old Ones had made? That magic had been long lost, the only last vestiges of it remaining even in Gilead.

But more importantly, Alessa had produced roast beef. Praise Gan and the Beams, real red meat! His mouth was already watering at the sight of it.

"And you don't even know what a popkin is? Ah, fuck me - I mean cry pardon!" He could at least try and be polite. Some girls didn't care what you said in front of'em and some did. "I don't mean to sound like a horse's ass. Just not used to all this, ken? A popkin's just meat and cheese in bread that you toast up. Is that anything like a sam-witch?"

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bring_god_down
2009-08-27 05:57 am UTC (link)

While she cut up the vegetables, she actually looked down and laughed; something rare for her. "What time period are you from? You sound like you might be from the 19th century; ahh I mean, like the 19th century in my world," she asked him.

"It's not stone, it's sort of a mix of metal and other materials. I don't really know the details about what they're made out of though." She finished cutting up the veggies, and was now putting them in the bowl along with the chicken. "And, yeah! That's quite a lot like a sandwich! I mean, a sandwich is basically meat, cheese, sometimes veggies, and sometimes sauce in between two pieces of bread. Sometimes it's heated up, and sometimes not."

Remembering something, Alessa gestured to the toaster, "That's our toaster; you put the bread in the slots, pull down the lever, and when it's done the toast pops up."

Having that out of the way, she reached into the fridge for a bottle of dressing, and brought that and the salad to the table. She didn't sit down yet though.

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-27 06:44 am UTC (link)

"Are they magic boxes?" Bert had to ask, peering at the mikro-whatsit. "There's a lot of magic here. More'n back in Gilead, and we had wizards a'plenty. Most of them right bastards, too. Or are they Ancient's machines?"

Other than the war machines that Farson commanded, the machines of the Ancients were only preserved in stories. But he imagined if they could make carts that pulled themselves and buildings of metal, they could make shiny boxes that cooked food without poisoning the air.

"And I'm not sure I understand your question. It was 39 generations after the death of the great King Arthur - my ancestry goes all the way back to his court, say true. During the war against the Good Man. Guess that's over now, though, since we lost Jericho Hill."

And what had become of Gilead? Were the servants of the Red crawling through the halls of the palace even now? And who sat on the throne? Farson? Flagg? Broadcloak the traitorous bastard himself?

"Cry pardon, I was woolgathering a bit there. Is this really a machine that will toast your bread for you?" As quickly as his smile had faded with dark thoughts it was back, as though the concept of a toasting machine was the most amazing thing he'd ever heard of. He busied himself with poking about the amazing kitchen, looking for the rest of what he needed for a proper popkin.

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bring_god_down
2009-08-27 07:04 am UTC (link)

"Hnn, no, I wouldn't call it magic personally." Alessa answered, "Ancient's machines?" Okay, now she was stumped; what time was he from? He mentioned being from 39 generations after the death of King Arthur. Granted that didn't tell Alessa much, and a generation could be 20-70 years. She did some quick calculations; if a generation in his world was 70 years then it was possible that this young man was from around the year 3330, only 20 years and he'd be from around 1380.

The clothes he was wearing betrayed that idea though. "I see, how long is a generation in your world?" She stopped, "Oh, well, I just mean that you seem surprised about all the things here. You sound like someone that would come from the old centuries...least in my world."

"Ha ha, yeah! It is! It also toasts other things as well. If it fits, you can probably toast it."

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-27 07:21 am UTC (link)

"We don't have anything like this in Gilead. We don't even hardly have paper! We used to, but...the world's changed. The empires of the Ancients fell to magic hundreds of years ago, and we lost their technology. Some of it's still around, but not much of it works." Bert slapped together some beef and cheese decided he'd try one of those magic boxes.

"An a generation's just a generation. About a hundred years or so, I guess. I could recite you my whole line back to Arthur's knight that was my grandsire, but we'd both die of boredom before I was done." He grinned as he hesitantly dropped two pieces of bread into the slots on the toasting machine and pressed the switch.

And it would toast anything? Oh, the possibilities!

"All-World's seen many turns of the wheel of Ka," he explained. "Times come and the world moves on but eventually the time comes back again. That's what they say, anyway. Gilead came after the world started to move on. Then the Crimson King and John Farson waged war against the Baronies of In-World and Mid-World. They wanted to force the world to move on. We held'em back as long as we could, but they had war machines and powerful magic and the Gunslingers had been waning for generations. There only thirteen of us in my class - an unlucky number, you ken. Cort always said we'd die young and bad. He was right 'bout that, at least."

He hadn't intended to just start talking about it all, but Alessa was his ka-mate and he'd always been one to talk.

"By the time we made our last stand on Jericho Hill, me'n Roland were the only gunslingers left. So now - less Roland actually goes looking for his thrice-damned tower - the world'll move on, and then the machines will come back and the whole bloody thing'll start all over again."

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bring_god_down
2009-08-27 07:44 am UTC (link)

Alessa took in the whole thing, and pondered; "Sounds cyclic to me. The Mayans had a belief that the planet earth would end at certain times, but be reborn again."

She sat down, "Hope you don't mind me sitting," she said, "And sounds to me like you might be from kind of parallel future to the world I was from. And paper? You didn't have paper? How did you communicate with each other, how did you receive news?" The idea of having no paper was surprising to Alessa; not that it should have been.

Alessa looked at him, sort of knowing what it was like to fight against an evil, and to only succeed in the short term; or to fail entirely. "This Red Man, was he like the devil or something?" she asked.

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-27 07:58 am UTC (link)

"Nah, sit all you like, may it do you fine." Bert was still eyeing the toast machine out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, we had some paper, but not much. It was more precious than gold. News was spread word of mouth less it was real important. Then we used letters, or messengers." It had been hell trying to write anything on the tiny slips they'd had in Mejis, even in short code.

The sudden popping of the toast machine startled him, and his right hand immediately went to his hip. But there was nothing there and he felt a wave of nausea pass him. The first thing he should have done was find guns, and he hadn't. He'd forgotten the face of his father already.

He shook himself and grabbed his toast, juggling the hot slices from hand to hand before sitting and joining her.

"Say true, pretty Alessa. He's the devil himself, from the wastes of Out-Land at the edge of the world. He's the father of all evil and lies and I'd see him dead if I could. His servants killed my friends, my family, poisoned our world and raped the land..." He sighed.

"Listen to me go on! What sort of talk is this? We're sharing khef, not war stories! This isn't the time for dark tales and vile deeds in the night! Let's speak of happy things."

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bring_god_down
2009-08-27 08:14 am UTC (link)

She listened to him with utmost fascination, and once he was seated she started to eat her salad. It was amusing to see him wanting to speak about pleasant things; and right now that might be what Alessa needed. After swallowing a second bite of salad she asked, "Pleasant things, well, you must have had music and stories back in your world. Did you have any particular favorites?" she asked him.

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-27 05:04 pm UTC (link)

"Oh, music and stories a'plenty!" Bert agreed, nodding enthusiastically. He bit into his popkin and rolled his eyes, sounds of muffled pleasure working their way around mouthfuls of food. He'd almost forgotten what beef tasted like. By the Beams, this was delicious!

"Mmmph! That's good!" he exclaimed, brushing crumbs away from his mouth. "Well, my favorite story's probably the one about the Guardians. There's twelve portals at the edge of the world, doors outside of ka that lead to other worlds. Each one was at the end of the magic road, and the roads cut the world into different lands, and along each road there's a Guardian. Once upon a time, ken, in the days of Arthur Eld, there was a wizard named Maerlyn. He had a magic mirror that could show anything in the world. And when Arthur died, they say the mirror shattered and the shards were lost through the doors at the end of Gan's roads and the wreaked havoc in other worlds. To make sure it never happened again, Gan placed his most loyal servants to guard the doors. And o'course the Dark Tower at the middle of it all. He gave them a special extra brain, too, to make sure they were smarter than any man or woman." And he still knew each and every Guardian that Gan had placed. Roland didn't believe they were real, thought it was all legend and silliness. But Bert believed with all of his heart that the Guardians were out there.

"It's probably one of the best known stories from back home. The Guardians are all over - there's statues of'em everywhere from Gilead to the outer baronies. And poems and other stories and things like that. There's the Bear, the Horse, the Eagle, the Rat, the Eliophant, the Bat, the Dog, the Wolf, the Fish, the Hare, the Lion and the Great Turtle."

He wolfed down his popkin between bites, all traces of the thoughts that had darkened his mind gone now.

"Oh, 'n my favorite song's 'Hey Jude'. S'just a tavern song, but s'a good one."

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bring_god_down
2009-08-27 05:54 pm UTC (link)

She listened to everything that Bert was telling her, amused by the prospect that the legend of King Arthur in his world also had a Merlin. Perhaps Raziel was onto something when he had once explained to Alessa that there were millions of different worlds and dimensions. "I think you might have liked Raziel. He was one of the ones that left before you came, but he was an angel; the angel of mysteries. He once told me in passing that there were millions of different worlds and dimensions." She smiled, took a bite of salad, "He didn't say a thing about guardians though."

Alessa continued to eat, "Back at my home, there was this story that my mom used to tell me. It was about a peaceful village where everyone prospered. One day this monster appeared at the gates, and nobody could get in or out. Weapons, spears, bullets couldn't hurt the monster and he would just eat everyone who attacked. Finally, they summoned this priestess who tried to talk to the monster. He, well, he killed her. The townspeople grieved, and prayed to their god to resurrect her. This god did, and the priestess lived.

She went back to the monster, and destroyed him by saying a simple phrase. 'Tu fu ego eres' and the monster died."

She took more bites of her meal, and added, "It means, 'I was once you, you will become me' Not sure why that phrase was used."

At the mention of the song, Alessa perked up. "I know that song! I mean, maybe it's not the same song. It was performed by some group who called themselves The Beatles; and released back in 1968 - six months before I was born."

She smiled, "But, I think my favorite song...don't think I have one really. Favorite poem is 'The Marriage of Heaven and Hell' by William Blake."

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-27 06:05 pm UTC (link)

"I don't know about millions," Bert said, "but I know there's at least twelve. Probably more. The Turtle, Maturin, is the most powerful and important. He carries the world on his back - when Gan made All-World, he dropped it, but Maturin was there to catch it. Is your world on the back of a turtle, too?" It really was amazing to talk to someone from one of these other worlds.

"Huh. That's a neat story. It sort of makes sense though, doesn't it? It was probably a magic spell, if she was a priestess. S'easy to defeat monsters with the right magic spell. Maerlyn killed a lot of monsters with magic, back in the time of Eld. There're some good stories about him, too. Well, they're stories but they're true." And the ones Alessa knew probably were, too. Stories didn't just pop into existence out of nowhere.

"Really?" Now that was interesting. "Every piano player in every tavern back home plays it! Ah..." He cleared his throat, calling the lyrics to mind. It had been some time since he sang - since the feasts had stopped in the great hall because of the war - but some talents never left.

"Hey Jude, I see you lad. She's left you lonely, but it's not all bad...." The words were different, but the tune - unbeknown to Bert - was the very same as the song Alessa was thinking of.

"You like poems, too?"

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bring_god_down
2009-08-27 06:46 pm UTC (link)

"I know the town I came from had three different worlds, all interconnected with each other." She thought about the whole turtle thing, and finally said, "Not a turtle, but there's a race of people in my world who are called the Greeks. They have this myth about how one of the titans - someone by the name of Atlas was punished, and had to hold the world up. Some say, the whole holding the world is a misconception, and what he's really holding up is a celestial sphere."

It was nice, actually getting to talk to someone about mythology.

"Yes, a spell. The priestesses back in my world were known for that; the spells they performed."

Now when Bert started to sing, Alessa's eyes widened. The lyrics were different, but the tune was the same. "Yeah, the lyrics are different, but that tune, it's the exact same as the tune I know!"

"Yes, I do." She closed her eyes, recollecting a passage from that poem, and finally quoted,

"Let the Priests of the Raven of dawn, no longer in deadly black, with hoarse note curse the sons of joy. Nor his accepted brethren, whom, tyrant, he calls free: lay the bound or build the roof. Nor pale religious letchery call that virginity, that wishes but acts not!
For every thing that lives is Holy."

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-27 06:57 pm UTC (link)

"As long as someone's holding it up!" Bert said, cheerily. Atlas would have to be an enormous man to hold up a whole world. The only giant Bert knew of was Perth, and he wasn't nearly that big.

"Priestesses were long gone by the time I was born, but they used to do all sorts of magic. Now it's just wizards and witches. The bad kind. Sometimes I wonder if there was any other sort. Even Maerlyn went bad when the Bends o'the Rainbow fell into his hands." And Bert had to surpress a shudder, remembering his own encounter with one of the Rainbow's sphere's. Thank Gan Roland had listened and handed it over to his father.

"Say true? How's that for strange! Here we are, from two different worlds, but we've got the same music!" He wondered if there were any other similarities.

He listened intently as Alessa spoke, recalling the nights in Gilead's great hall, and the recitation of drama poems. This was helping him adjust to his new life much better than he'd thought it would.

"S'a pretty poem. Everything that lives is holy, I like that." He nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds like something from back home almost, the ones written in the old High Speech. Which is quite pretty, but I think it makes a lad sound like a ninny when it's actually used for talking. I may sound like a backwater Calla lad, but I'd rather that than sound like some snooty peacock of a lord. But it's pretty for poetry."

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bring_god_down
2009-08-27 07:36 pm UTC (link)

She grinned, "Yeah, my mom was a priestess, and my best friend was being trained to be one as well. Umm, but what were the wizards and witches in your world like?" Alessa knew from experience that often times those with magic could be accused of being evil.

"My mom sometimes used to play these records; they weren't the type of songs that young children understand, but I liked listening to them when I was six-seven years old. She used to listen to a lot of Pink Floyd, King Crimson, and some other weird music."

She nodded, by this time she had finished her salad. "Yes, the poem is a strange one. I've read that some call it a satire. The other parts of the poems; an angel is sent to hell, and another angel becomes a devil. The whole thing is reversed; angels are arrogant, and the devils are holy. I don't know what he was getting at though."

"No, I once knew of a guy that spoke almost like you do. Not quite exactly, but he would always say things like, 'this ain't right', 'late on a gig, bud', 'I only smoke when I'm happy', things like that."

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-27 11:20 pm UTC (link)

"Well, I guess it depends on the witch or wizard," Bert said, thoughtfully. "And witches are easier - they scare me shitless, say true, but at least they never try and hide what they are. Which is scary old women who hold truck with monsters from the Prim and inappropriately touch innocent young lads such as meself. Most of'em don't even have any real magic, they use tricks and herbs to weasel money out of the pockets of fools. But some of them...."

Some of them had dark and powerful magic. Not many, he knew that, but some. Maybe even Rhea had been one, Bert wasn't sure. But mostly they were mean, wicked old women who did ghastly things with animal bits and poisonous plants. And of course did terrible things to pretty young boys.

Not that the single witch he'd actually encountered in life had done so, but still.

"Well, the witches with real magic tend to keep to themselves. Can't say as I blame'em, what with what Maerlyn started back when he went crazy with power. Wizards...eh, there used to be a lot of them about. Mostly from Delain. S'where Gilead's court wizard was from. He turned out to be a traitor in Farson's pocket."

He tried not to start when she mentioned the name 'King Crimson'. But he was curious. "You got any here? I like music, it'd be neat to hear some from another world."

Poetic dissection wasn't one of Bert's favorite pastimes, so he just shrugged and smiled.

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bring_god_down
2009-08-27 11:54 pm UTC (link)

Folding her hands on the table she listened attentively. "That doesn't sound that much different from the witches in my world. Well, except..." her eyes glanced to the right as if trying to recall something, "Sometimes witches didn't have any magic; they were just accused of being witches because of their beliefs."

She couldn't help to shudder at the whole thing, knowing what it was like to be ostracized as a witch. "No, I can't I would blame them either. Anyone with magic/power back in my world was shunned as a witch, a demon, or something born of the devil." She had to decide if she should tell him about her abilities. He would probably learn about them soon, but how would he take it if it came as a surprise?

"Oh, yeah! There are actually a couple of music stores in Emptiness. You can go there and take whatever you want. I don't make a habit of it, but I've collected a few records." She then added, almost out of nowhere, "but, ummm, look there's something you might need to know. There are people here that have certain abilities, supernatural abilities, and I happen to be one of them."

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-28 12:20 am UTC (link)

Bert nodded. "Aye, there've been problems with that back through history. Fucking charyou tree." He spit the words, disgusted. How could people do that? Even seeing the evidence of it, he couldn't believe that any normally sane and reasonable person could think burning someone alive was a good idea.

"S'not like anyone who could use magic was shunned, guess it depended on what they did with it. I don't trust much magic, say true, but it can be useful sometimes. Too useful most of the time." But without technology, what else did they have to rely on? And Farson employed wizards and sorcerers. What choice had Gilead.

"Well, that much I'd figured out for myself," Bert said at Alessa's sudden revelation. He smiled, but it wasn't quite as bright as formerly. "There's so much magic here, it stands to reason. But that's not what you're talking about, is it?" He tilted his head as he thought. If she meant magic, she probably would have just come out and said it.

"If you mean the Touch, I've got a bit of it myself. Not like Alain - nobody ever had the Touch strong as him less they were a wizard - but enough to do me some good."

Or maybe she was just worried he'd think she was a witch. Which was just silly - she was too young and nice.

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bring_god_down
2009-08-28 01:18 am UTC (link)

"Charyou tree?" Alessa asked suddenly. Then, "And the touch?"

The young woman shook her head, "No, not magic; well some people call it that, but I don't."

She looked around the kitchen, before returning her gaze to Bert. "I can do things with my mind," she said finally, but not choosing to bring anything to her, or to lift anything. Instead she let out a laugh, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be talking about that."

"So, what was it you did in your world, exactly?"

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kaswhippingboy
2009-08-28 02:09 am UTC (link)

Bert wet his lips and wiped his hands together, his face turning serious. How many times had he told this story at Gilead's Reaptide festivals? Now it held more meaning to him. Now he understood why it was a ghost story.

"In the days of Arthur Eld," he began, his voice taking on a slightly lyrical cadence, "the wizard Maerlyn was driven mad by dark magics. He was cast out by King Arthur, and he preyed upon the far flung baronies. In the farming village of Brockest, the fields had lain barren for years. Come Reaptide, the time we give thanks for our crops and good fortune under the Demon Moon, Maerlyn began to poison the ears of the villagers. Burn a sacrifice, to appease the Old Gods, he said." Bert's voice changed slightly for Maerlyn's words. His body language changed as well, taking on the part.

"Abandon the Gods of Gilead, human blood will revive your land. But they didn't listen. Years came and went, and then famine and drought, and all the time Maerlyn whispered in their ears. Until they listened, and a girl was burned at the charyou tree. And the next day the feilds were revived and rain fell and the land was revived. And the surrounding villages saw, and they burned their maidens as well, until there were no more maidens and Arthur Eld came out of Gilead to set right what Maerlyn had wrought."

And then came the lottery, and the death of Roland's granddame, and only four years ago Bert himself had heard the cries of charyou tree and hear Susan's screams in his mind....

"Ahem. Sorry 'bout that. Back home I was a Gunslinger, a knight of Gilead. And the Touch is just...the Touch. If something bad's about to happen, I feel it or I get a mixed up dream about it. Or if someone close to me's in trouble, I know. And I can find people. Things like that."

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bring_god_down
2009-08-28 02:49 am UTC (link)

She wound up biting her finger, making an effort to hold in all notes of disgust, and memories that were surfacing. Unbeknownst to her, she had broken skin, and blood trickled down to her finger. She didn't notice it until the metallic smell of blood entered her nose, and the taste in her mouth. Almost immediately she pulled away, "damn it," she hissed, "excuse me, I need to go get something from the cabinet."

At that she stood up, and went over to the cabinets to search for what she needed, til she found it. She pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and poured it on the wound. "Not that it hurts, but I don't like infections. Those can be worse than the actual injury itself."

She sat back down, injury set and clean. "I apologize for that; I'm not entirely fond of the old gods. They're nothing but childish, malevolent spirits."

Alessa mentally noted that this whole touch thing sounded a bit like Blythe, especially the dreaming aspect. "So, like prophetic dreaming? I have that too, but well, often times it only pertains to me. When I was young, I used to have them more often. Used to have hunches about when something bad would happen."

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kaswhippingboy, 2009-08-28 04:52 pm UTC

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kaswhippingboy, 2009-08-28 05:37 pm UTC

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bring_god_down, 2009-08-28 06:47 pm UTC

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kaswhippingboy, 2009-08-28 07:02 pm UTC

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