Tweak

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Tweak says, "my name is Inigo Montoya"

Bellum Letale Tempus (bellum_tempus) wrote in bellumlogs,
@ 2010-06-18 21:09:00

Entry tags:

plot: delta, plot: tempus

GROUP DELTA GROUP LOG
Who: Group Delta
What: The Raid! Group Delta Arrival Log
Where: Chicago, IL
When: Feb. 11, 1929
Warnings: TBA
Notes: The log is now ready for tagging! Start whenever you like. See Group Delta’s Plot Post for more details! Keep in mind that this post will have comments shut down around this time tomorrow, and is only for tags during the visit to the speak. Any other logs in the following two days are yours to create.

12:01 on Saturday, June 19, Bellum’s tenants should have been asleep in their beds. Some of them, no doubt, were awake, and would have seen the flash that left them standing with fifteen of the building’s other residents, dressed in a period out of the past, in the middle of a party like no other.

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arcere
2010-06-19 04:15 am UTC (link)

Flashes of light, while not completely unusual in a place like this, didn't usually happen in Aiden's room. He was awake and sitting on the floor, seven books and a ridiculous number of papers spread out around him, when the flash struck. It abruptly cleared into a very different situation.

A few things hit him immediately: it wasn't the full moon, so this wasn't that, at least. This wasn't his apartment. And he clearly wasn't stuffed neatly away in the back of his own mind, left to listen and watch as Van Helsing took his rambling control, the old bastard.

I've never gotten you killed.

... and yet this building found more and more ways to piss him off.

Distinctly uncomfortable in the suit he was forced into, Aiden pressed his back against the nearest wall and started looking around. A dark, smoky place, clearly not Bellum ... where the hell was he?

Or would a better question, he thought as he noted the very unusual fashions passing him by, when?

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lillehavfrue
2010-06-19 07:32 am UTC (link)

She let go of the end of the colorful scarf and she stopped right in front of Aiden, who she thought was just another face in her dream.

He looked uncomfortable, pressed with his back against the wall like it was, and it was a sharp contrast to the man with the scarf and the rose. He was a strange person for her to dream of, really. He looked serious and somber, and she canted her head to the side and held a hand out to him.

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arcere
2010-06-19 07:42 am UTC (link)

The wall under his fingers (hands locked behind his back defensively) was almost warm from all the people and the smoke. Aiden kept glancing from one side of the room to the next, unsure of whether he should leave or not. Staying didn't seem like a completely awful idea - nobody had even noticed him yet - but leaving might tell him where he was. Or possibly when.

A girl suddenly stopped in front of him, staring like he was something truly marvelous. He stared back, like she was interrupting something. When she held out her hand, he looked at it, for a moment completely baffled. Was he supposed to shake it? He opened his mouth to say something derisive and dismissive when Helsing stepped in, practically trying to wrest control of his own body from him.

Don't be rude. You'll draw attention to yourself, and of course, that's the last thing you want, hm?

"Can I help you?" was what escaped him, slightly strained from the effort of not sounding too suddenly irritated - not at her, but at the know-it-all voice echoing in his head.

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lillehavfrue
2010-06-19 07:49 am UTC (link)

The play of emotions on his face intrigued her; it was like watching thoughts in progress - uncertainty, hesitation, displeasure, compromise. Where the man she'd spoken to before had been all show, this man was all internal with little bits of irritation slipping through.

"You don't like me," she said, and it was an interested statement. She took his hand, and she tugged him away from the wall and into the press of the swaying crowd. The music playing was slow and boozy, and she let go of his hand and put her own on his stomach lightly.

She swayed a little, but kept the movements at a minimum; the trek through the crowd had made her short of breath, and she wondered that her lungs were bothering her in a dream.

That's because you're on dry land. She looked confused for a moment, and her breathing became a little more desperately shallow in that moment.

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arcere
2010-06-19 07:55 am UTC (link)

It was Van Helsing. It had to be. Otherwise Aiden never would have let her pull him away from the wall and into the claustrophobia of the crowd. He tried to object a few times, but his words were lost in the smoke and conversation, and soon enough she came to a stop, her hand resting on his stomach instead.

"Do I even know you?" he asked irritably, though most of it was, again, lost. Does it matter? cut in Helsing's strangely worried voice. She looks ill. Can't you see her breathing? And, well, he was right - he couldn't really tell, but there for a moment she seemed to be having issues keeping air in her lungs. "Are you all right ... ?"

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lillehavfrue
2010-06-19 08:01 am UTC (link)

Her breathing evened, and she slid her hand to his hip. He's not the one, the strange new voice in her head said, and she very intentionally didn't let it keep her from swaying to the music again. "We haven't met," she said, realizing the people in this dream were awfully detailed for unknown, dream people.

And she'd never heard voices in her head in her life - not when she was awake or asleep.

Why are you-

"I'm not listening to you, so you might as well hush," she said aloud, giving him an apologetic look after. "You ever hear voices?"

He was a dream person; it wasn't as if he could have her committed for the admission.

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arcere
2010-06-19 08:07 am UTC (link)

Of course they hadn't. He frowned slightly as her hand moved to his hip, something he was intensely unfamiliar with, but he didn't try to push her away just yet. All influence courtesy of Helsing, he was sure. She hadn't even answered his question of if she was all right or not -

And then told him to be quiet. When he hadn't even said anything. Or, well ...

"Sometimes," he admitted. You and I rarely speak. I'd hardly call that more than 'rarely'. Aiden grimaced further. "Right now I am." And then it hit him: if she was hearing voices, too, then either she was a very good schizophrenic or he wasn't alone in this monstrosity the building had dumped him in. "Where are you from?"

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lillehavfrue
2010-06-19 08:14 am UTC (link)

She noticed the frown, but she didn't move her hand. She got the sense that he wasn't used to touch like that, and she didn't necessarily interpret that as dislike.

The makeup that went along with her dress and hair (unfamiliar as it all was) was doing a fairly good job of hiding the pallor of her cheeks and the purple circles under her eyes, but when he admitted to hearing voices just then she paled enough to make her illness more visibly pronounced. "I am too," she admitted. "But I never have before."

"I'm from Key West, down South," she said, "but I live in New York now. I just moved in with a friend there, actually."

Tell him the name.

"Bellum, she says to tell you the building name's Bellum."

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arcere
2010-06-19 08:25 am UTC (link)

The word Bellum surprised him, more than he'd expected, but didn't so much as faze Helsing. So he wasn't alone. Whether that was good or bad didn't mean much in the long run; the fact remained that yes, he was here, and no, it wasn't a dream, wasn't a drug trip, wasn't a last-minute hallucination before he died or something.

"You're serious." How would she lie? Think clearly. "So am I. This is unbelievable - you don't know where we are, do you?" And how would she know? This is as unfamiliar a place to me as it is to you.

Oh, this entire business of hearing Van Helsing blather on and on was really starting to get on his nerves. Aiden tried his best to tune it out, listening to the buzz of words around him. Still in America, at least ...

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lillehavfrue
2010-06-19 02:22 pm UTC (link)

It could still be a dream, but Anya liked to stick with her gut instinct, and her gut instinct is that this man wouldn't spend time frolicking around dreams, and he wouldn't lie.

"I just moved in," she said again. She hadn't even read through the forums yet; she didn't know people were stories and stories were people, and she didn't know that the building was fond of playing cat and mouse with its residents. She was going to give Esme a stern talking to for sending her into battle unarmed, but now that she was there, she would have to make do.

We're on dry land, repeated the voice in her head, and it was getting annoying. "Dry land isn't anything new," she told it aloud, looking around the room, but keeping a hand on Aiden's hip. He was real and from her waking- non-hallucination; she wasn't letting him out of her sight. "They speak English, but I can't place the accent," she said, and she looked back down at the coral dress she was wearing. "1920s or 1930s."

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arcere
2010-06-19 05:28 pm UTC (link)

Great. Here he was with a girl who didn't even know what this place was about, and she was thrust into all this without warning. Or so he assumed. Her hand on his hip was still bothering him, but Helsing was doing his best to assure him that for all its impropriety, nobody seemed to have noticed them yet.

So. Early 20th century. Aiden listened, but he couldn't hear a single voice for long enough to place the accent, either, so he just listened instead, trying to place the world instead of the people. He knew history. This was something that should have come easily to him. Even if his emphasis was on everything before 1900, since there were plenty of other historians for this century.

It's rather more difficult to know a place when you're within it than to simply read about it from clues. You can't see a forest when you're sitting in a tree.

"Shut up," he mumbled, then looked at her again. "Not you." Though she seemed to be having the same problem, saying something about dry land. "Somewhere like this at that time ... America, obviously." If only there was a calendar or a clock, some hint, something to tell him, well, anything. Maybe if he asked someone, they could tell him. If it was the wrong time, then they were ostensibly in some very big trouble.

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lillehavfrue
2010-06-19 05:38 pm UTC (link)

"The only person I know in the building is Esme," she told him, once he was done arguing with whoever was in his head. "Do you know people who might be able to help us?" she asked, even as she slipped her hand away from him and backed toward a nearby, vacated chair.

She put her hand on his shoulder, and she used it to hold onto as she climbed onto a nearby chair and look over the crowd. "I was with someone who might be from our time," she said as she stretched on tiptoe to see if anyone stood out. "But I don't see Esme," she said a moment later, and though she'd seen a photo of Stefan, she wasn't certain she could pick him out of the group either.

"Any suggestions?" she asked, looking down at him with a growing smile. Well, this was an adventure. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Atta girl, the voice in her head agreed.

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arcere
2010-06-19 05:52 pm UTC (link)

She knew Esme.

That gave Aiden pause enough to let her use him as a support beam while she stood up on the chair and looked around. Esme, who still worried him even though he wasn't anywhere near her, hadn't talked to her since that strange and frankly unnerving meeting the other week. He looked up at the girl as she stood on the chair and peered over the crowd.

"I don't." Well, no, that wasn't true, he did, but he didn't know if they were here or not. "How many more people did you recognize here? Just the one?" Her smile at him seemed genuinely interested in the whole situation, not forced or hesitant at all. Lucky were the people that could enjoy this building's ridiculousness. "I say we stay unobtrusive until closing time, and figure out where to go from there. It'll be easier to figure out where we are outside."

He unconsciously smoothed his hands over his suit, glancing down at it once. Damn. He'd never bothered to care about fashions, and now he was sure that kind of knowledge would have helped him.

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clowning
2010-06-19 06:28 pm UTC (link)

In the interim, the stench of alcohol on the breath of those men who'd attempted so desperately to intimidate him was fiercely real, very loyal to his imagination, and altogether stunning. Odd. Certainly, his dreams had been shockingly sensational before--that is, appealed to his senses in ways dreams quite possibly do not to others--and well, looking one and then all of them into the eye and simply saying:

"You want to listen, you want to sit;
This was all a misunderstanding!
Impress your women with the drinks you'll get!
And by not being so demanding!"

They sat. They ordered drinks. They mingled. It was as if "Miles" had vanished from their sight.

It was then that he had noticed, a tad more fully than earlier, that he was beginning to rhyme the things he'd say not on purpose, but as if it came entirely too naturally... ignoring this, he begun to gather up the scarf having forgotten about his assistant (in his mind, she was now part of the act.), how dreadful of him. He actually didn't need the scarf at all, and once he'd glanced up to see her atop a chair, surveying the crowd, he shifted through the ebb and tide of the dancing, the kicking, the charleston, the tango, the shimmy, and the revelry and ragtime, to make his way over messily to her, and her new friend.

Once he'd arrived, he arched his brow at the man whose body language boldly stated he was now within 'Sara''s company.

"Is he part of the act now?" he'd inquired.

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lillehavfrue
2010-06-19 06:50 pm UTC (link)

When Miles arrived, Anya motioned to him from her perch atop the chair. "Him," she said, as if she'd called him with her thoughts. "Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child that you have stolen," she quoted, as if that explained everything. "He quoted Labyrinth earlier," she explained, "which hadn't come out in the 20s and 30s. And I'm not sure there was diet Coke then either."

Being unobtrusive wasn't something she did well, and she motioned to the antics of Trenton (who she didn't know) in the crowd. "He's not being unobtrusive," she said, but she hopped down to the ground a moment later. "But I think your idea is a good one, given the circumstances."

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arcere
2010-06-19 10:23 pm UTC (link)

Aiden looked between the two blankly, having no idea who either really was and what they exactly were talking about. Thankfully she at least explained herself. He gave the man a wary look; he didn't recognize him. Not that he'd recognize more than a handful of the building's residents anyway. Still, it never hurt.

And he followed her gaze to someone else, practically a ruckus. He scowled. Nobody else was paying much attention to him, outside the fact that people in bars enjoyed a show, but regardless.

"The faster we get out of here, the better," he grumbled. "I swear, I'm going to carve every curse I know into this building when I get back."

And I'm sure that will help, said the chiding voice in his head.

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clowning
2010-06-19 11:20 pm UTC (link)

What were they both on about? This dream was no longer amusing. It had run its course. In fact, he was much obliged to wake up now as he was compelled. Right this instant. Make it snappy. Yes, now. Go on, wake up. He'd shut his restless, now uninterested eyes, ignoring anything the two of them said into his direction (which, they had not in any case.) and cleared his throat of the weary, riled sediment that did not exist there, but that he feigned did for show. He'd tightened his muscles, his shoulders raising, fists clenching...

And as he'd opened them again, still very much here, like Tara Reid when she'd looked into the mirror after her breast augmentation, he was very displeased, but inclined to swallow his pride.

"Why am I still here? You." he'd motioned to the man now alongside him, extending his forearm. "Would you kindly spare a pinch?"

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lillehavfrue
2010-06-19 11:55 pm UTC (link)

"It's not a dream, Jareth," Anya said, pressing Miles' forearm down gently. "We're from Bellum; we just haven't met there yet," she explained. "And he thinks we should leave quietly and not create a ruckus," she said, motioning to the door which seemed very far away.

"Do you see anyone you know from the building?" she asked Miles, even as she looped her arm through Aiden's to help her walk. The realization that it wasn't a dream had made her recent illness hit her quickly, and she wanted to get outside with as little trouble as possible.

In the quiet, she realized something. "What curses?" she asked the man on her arm, even as she pulled Miles forward and slipped her other arm through his thankfully.

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arcere
2010-06-20 12:49 am UTC (link)

And he would have been so happy to provide. Aiden's hand dropped before it could get much higher than his ribs as the woman pushed the man's arm down. Did people honestly still think this building was a dream? He must have been new, too. People really needed to be warned before they signed the lease.

His arm suddenly held captive, Aiden had no choice but to move along toward the door, though that was a positive for him, personally. The closer they got to outside, the closer he was to figuring out where they were - and freedom.

"Oh, you know," he said casually as they walked. "'Fuck off and die', that sort of petty vandalism." A head or two turned toward him, but he pointedly ignored any and all looks. He was leaving, damn it, and nobody was going to stop him. Well. Except the building even further, but then he'd come to expect that.

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clowning
2010-06-20 12:57 am UTC (link)

A silver bullet, her words cut through the supernatural fortitude of the chest wall of his wolfish assumptions softly and steadily. A man having grown up in the circus as he did, around those who studied deeply the real occult, and of course those who as well knew how to lie about such things being real, Miles was both skeptical and believing.

Too much cough medicine?

"Right... but I don't see anyone that I know. And I don't really know anyone in the building personally." he'd agreed in a faint drawl, though politely as he could summon. Each side of his mouth visibly withheld a grin which desperately wanted to frolic rampantly along his pale, enchanted face. In the midst of indistinct chaos, or unclear oddities, he'd found himself rather comfortable, for however troubled he was in his stomach. Ah, his stomach! It churned, burned, folded over itself like worms in a vat of hot oil. He was anxious and alarmed by what she'd said, yet a deep recess of him was... delighted. Were these not symptoms of his being awake? She was right. Or, at least she'd remain right until proven wrong. And so, he let her take the crook of his arm, hoping that it'd anchor him to more hints of their situation, as he'd looked up at the other man on the opposing side of her and said at his suggestion: "Thus, they won't be offended on account of us all leaving quietly, and preferably through the back. Without them either having to fuck off, or die."

~~Rumpel~~ Miles was a trickster and a criminal. He knew never to leave through the front. One initiatory step forward was taken before he'd halted.

"... Unless of course, such as with a black hole, outside is just a giant tear in reality."

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lillehavfrue
2010-06-20 01:09 am UTC (link)

Anya could see the coat room from where they were, which stood firmly between them and any possible black holes. If they were going to leave, she needed sleeves. No you don't. I like the cold, the voice in her head said, and she thought back at it instead of speaking. I don't, she told it. I'm from Florida, and I get sick, so we're getting coats.

She didn't open her mouth, didn't actually talk aloud, but the two men (unbeknown to her) could hear the words inside their heads, so it should have come as no surprise when he guided them toward the coat room.

She let go of them long enough to lean on the desk and ask the girl behind the counter for something warm and fuzzy.

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arcere
2010-06-20 01:23 am UTC (link)

There was something strange about that other man. Aiden gave him a long look. The weird way he spoke, sentences almost detached, was odd and frankly didn't make any sense in his mind. Was the world outside a black hole? Why would it be a black hole, of all things? It was more likely to be police, or a riot, or maybe the pits of Hell itself. That seemed fairly standard for a building pulled from the nightmares of every literate human on earth.

"If it is, then all the better. I'm sick of dealing with this place." They were nearing the coatroom, though it took a bit of time to fight through the crowds to get there. Aiden let the girl go on ahead and get a coat for herself; he didn't even know if he was supposed to have one. Coats ... so it was winter. Winter, the 20s or 30s, a dark, highly-packed place with drink running free, suits, slicked style ...

Something felt wrong, and it wasn't Van Helsing. He looked at the door as if expecting it to open onto another realm entirely.

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clowning
2010-06-20 01:53 am UTC (link)

Such a pretty thing are you, and nice.
I could make all your wishes come true, for a price.

He shook his head free of what rattling procession was seemingly taking over his mind as he'd glanced at the redhead. He still hadn't her true name and didn't care. She didn't have his either, and he preferred keeping it that way. Why was he even considering names and the security of their disclosure at this point? There was a lot of confusion around them, and within it, he was quite frankly relieved she'd let go of him to go and fetch her coat. Coat? To his knowledge, he hadn't brought one. He'd moistened his lips and bit gently at the center of his bottom one before considering to speak... he was obviously thinking. Especially with how his foot began to tap rhythmically, as if to assist him in coming to a conclusion. As well, his hand cupped his elbow, where the disengaged one lightly tap-tap-tap'd his chin with an index. Hmmmm, he'd hmm'd, and then relaxed his arms a both his sides.

"I don't mind either, but I'll be taking the back. You could say I'm used to it." he'd grinned devilishly.

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lillehavfrue
2010-06-20 02:47 am UTC (link)

The coat that was handed to her wasn't hers at all. It was a long affair, and it had a fuzzy neckline, and it was warm. She wrapped it around herself thankfully (she was very thin skinned), and she asked the girl behind the counter to get one for Aiden as well. The girl, who was dressed in black and seemed to like redheads, obliged.

When Miles said he was going out the back, she looked at Aiden and the back at Miles. "Be careful, Jareth," she said, opting to remain with Aiden. She was feeling tired, and she was fairly certain Aiden would get them somewhere safe; he seemed the strong type.

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	arcere 2010-06-20 03:05 am UTC (link)
	And then the chaos started. (Reply to this) (Parent)

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