InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "no love now..................."

Marisol Hernandez (marisolhrndz) wrote in cirque_rp,
@ 2017-11-17 02:19:00

Who: ~~Marisol~~ The Queen Bee & {Open}
What: The drones go buzzing one by one, hurrah hurrah
Where: Hidden in the dining hall
When: October 29th/30th, late late night after closing
Warnings: Trypophobia

It was the easiest place to be stationed - not public at this moment in time, no one had gone missing from it but it was easily accessible to those who would go looking. Marisol was essentially frozen in place, sitting cross-legged on a table with her hands on her knees. There were hundreds of bee-sized holes bored into her body all over. Each hole had a drone sitting in it, waiting. There were other drones buzzing around her in a protective cloud. Still, more drones had gone out to seek the power of the dark entity with orders to return instead of trying to consume that energy to make honey.

Said honey dripped from a few of the holes in Marisol's body. Her clothes would be sticky and their hive would be annoyed but the Queen didn't care. She was doing a favor for the pretty Ringmaster who buzzed with his own power in a way that was different from their own buzzing. A drone crawled up her throat, out of her mouth, settling on her lips and flicking its wings delicately before taking off into the air to join the protective swarm. If she hadn't been paralyzed, she might have been afraid. At the same time, this was old hat. But the paralyzation protected her from going totally insane. Really, it was for the best. But the Queen was getting bored. So far, it was a waste of time, energy and honey.

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wehndigo
2017-11-19 04:53 am UTC (link)

Heat and ash and hate and hunger. Even to his human body’s less acute senses, a pregnant tension charged the air. To the Wendigo, the air tasted of death and laudanum, stale in its doldrums and disquieting the humors. He hoped that this was an uncommon air at Le Cirque, because so far, Vaughn was not impressed. Visitors to the Mirror Labyrinth seemed on high alert, as well. They were unaware of the reason, but he could see it in them through his empty eye sockets, smell it on their breath and in their sweat. They were afraid. They felt the wrong. They were jumpy. Cortisol and stress hormones made meat gamey. The thought of a meal he’d have to work harder to obtain for a meager payoff appealed to him about as much as prying off fingernails. It had been done before, between the swirling mirrors and trick hallways of the mirror labyrinth, if the five-tiered scores etched into the floor to and fro were to be believed. Signs of struggle marked every corner, like a serial killer’s private trophy hall. His predecessor had been prolific. Unfortunately, he would not add his first marks tonight.

As his first night on the job had failed to net him a meal break, Vaughn left his post unfulfilled, his stomach complaining. Nearing the village, he redirected to make a stop at the dining hall before closing. With luck, he’d be able to swipe uncooked rations.

As expected at this hour, the place was nearly empty. Across the room, a figure sat atop a table. He wondered if it was one of those weird Swami meditation type people. Did people like that join circuses, or just live in hostels in tropical places where no one cared if you lived in Birkenstocks and smelt like shitty essential oils? He didn’t much care. His hands patting at the back pockets of his jeans to make sure he’d grabbed his trailer keys, he was making his way around the shadowed edges of the hall when he recognized the Swami person. The Bee woman. Another shape moved peripherally. The other whispered a name. Marisol. Right, that was it.

It was best to apologize for having been an ass on the boards, even if only a gesture. He cut across the room, navigating between dining tables. The screech of chairs against tile as he nudged them aside distracted him enough that he didn’t take in the state of her until he stopped several feet behind the newly arrived woman. He stopped, eyes flicked wider for a moment before settling. The disgusted noise that rose in his chest couldn’t be stopped, however. “That’s... not okay.” His attention narrowed on the Bee perched in Marisol’s mouth. Vaughn swallowed hard, shifting focus to the other party so that he could stop seeing that. He recognized her, too. “Evenin’ Doc.”

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marisolhrndz
2017-11-19 05:12 am UTC (link)

Figures in the dark. The swarm around Marisol tightened, flew faster and buzzing like an angry storm. Two drones were sent out by silent order of the Queen to inspect the new arrivals. They flew close but would not allow themselves to be swatted away. It would have been dangerous for them to try. The drones tasted the air around the strangers. They lingered, hovering with gentle humming wingbeats. And then they flew away, flew back to Marisol's body and into two of the many holes, vanishing from sight.

After a moment of continued silence, Marisol's head moved with a jerky motion to a proper upright position. Her eyes opened as her head then tilted sharply to one side like a rather poor puppeteer was controlling her. When she spoke, the words were almost sing-song, with a hint of a gentle droning as syllables were drawn out at random. It was very clearly not Marisol. It was the Queen. "The light healer and a dark beast, the flesh eater of the mountains and cold who dares to decide what is 'okay'. We have feasted on your kind before, turned your power into strong honey."

The swarm around Marisol relaxed, knowing that their Queen would handle any issues with the creatures who were not attacking. "Marisol is not available at the moment. You address the Queen." The entire time she spoke, nothing moved except her mouth. Even the eyes seemed to be sort of... lifeless. Not dead. There just wasn't anything behind them at the moment.

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finefeathers
2017-11-19 03:05 pm UTC (link)

Rose was perfectly still as one of the drones buzzed over to inspect her; though she wasn't an empath, she still projected an aura of calm competence, seemingly unbothered by what was happening. "Vaughn," she greeted, cutting her eyes over at him in a way that was meant to convey that if he had nothing nice to say, he should likely say nothing at all. "Pleasure to meet you in the flesh."

Marisol - or whatever it was inhabiting her - was speaking then, gentle sibilance on the fricatives that seemed to echo the quiet drone of hundreds of insect wings. It echoed the distant memories Rose had of being close to a beehive; she wanted to approach but thought it unwise, settling instead for mentally documenting as much of the encounter as she could. "My apologies if we've disturbed you," she told the Queen politely, noting that while Marisol's body was responding to the conversation with the nonverbal cues she might expect from speaking to a regular person, the reactions were just slightly off, just enough to be disturbing. To her, it was fascinating.

She kept her voice polite, though not quite deferential despite not being sure which of them the Queen was talking about having feasted on before. "My name is Rose." She didn't request anyone address her by her title, save the Ringmaster who refused to use the modern version of her real name. "Are you or Marisol in any distress? Is there something I can assist with?"

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wehndigo
2017-11-19 07:23 pm UTC (link)

His reaction had been instinctual, and utterly moronic. 24 hours in, and the Georgian was quickly recognizing that he was well out of his depth. Demons existed. Fae did not resemble Tinkerbell. Beehive women were a thing that existed in the real world, not children’s nightmares. He half expected to spy a pucka jaunting about in his shadow, teasing him for his confusion.

He recognized the second woman by her profile, once turned. Rose reprimanded him with a tone. Vaughn swallowed, following the stern greeting with a sharp nod. “Rose.” His eyes flicked to the Queen’s nearly lifeless marionette; his eyebrows drew together when she mentioned how she’d used one of his ilk for food in that goosepimpling sing song.

Without willing it, the temperature around him plummeted. His fingertips turned pale with chill. Irritated by the inhospitable shift in temperature, lingering drones darted away from him in a frenzy. Forcing the involuntary change to abate so as not to offend or worse, kill any of her workers, he tightened his fingertips against his palms. “Sorry.” The word was curt and not perfectly sincere, but courteous. “Ma’am,” he added, his deep southern drawl uncomfortable on such uncertain ground. He took a slow, steady step back to further distance any discomfort the sudden cold snap might have caused the Queen, or Marisol.

“I came to apologize to Marisol, if I’d offended her earlier. If you would let her know, I’d be obliged,” he said after Rose had made her offer of assistance. That, at least, seemed genuine. “I’ll leave you be,” the corner of his mouth twitched. His stomach made a plaintiff growl, reminding him of his mission.

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marisolhrndz
2017-11-19 10:59 pm UTC (link)

The flesh-eater was... Was it frightened or simply unnerved? It could be either but it didn't necessarily matter. She cared very little. But it seemed he was very much not in control of the beast inside of him. Interesting. How new was this little child that he could not fight off the cold? And she knew it was cold with the way the drones darted back, went to hide inside the warmth of the hive to fight the chill from their thin wings. The Queen arched their eyebrow at the apology that wasn't entirely heartfelt but nodded their head slightly anyway in acknowledgment of the word.

The Queen lifted Marisol's hand and gestured for Rose to come closer, "Come, healer. Come. You have no reason to fear the drones. They may sit upon your skin but a gentle touch makes gentle bees. We are not in distress. We act at the request of the Ringmaster. He has us seek the knife in the dark and the ones lost to it." And though she had addressed Rose first, her eyes were on Vaughn, watching him intently. Strange, strange creature.

"Yes, you did offend," she told Vaughn without hesitation, "Marisol has been our home for a very long time. People forget that we are two entities, forget she exists, treat her poorly. They have always treated her poorly. I would suggest you try again later but she won't believe you." The Queen knew Marisol too well. The poor thing always believed that no one could be kind on their own. They always wanted something in return. Perhaps that was the Queen's fault, but not any more than the people in Marisol's past.

It was a smoother action that settled hands on Marisol's stomach, one that wasn't necessarily the Queen and the emptiness faded away for sadness just for a brief moment. The hint of human emotion vanished rather quickly though. Marisol couldn't have control back just yet. It would have been too damaging to her psyche.

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finefeathers
2017-11-21 01:15 am UTC (link)

Rose approached when invited; curiosity overrode any uncertainty, and she had the Queen's own assurances of her safety. "Fascinating," she murmured, mostly to herself, as the Queen spoke to Vaughn. She hadn't seen the exchange they were discussing, but assumed it was something on the cirque's network. She was too wrapped up in studying the way the bees rested in the holes in Marisol's body - holes that seemed to be entirely healed. They were neatly made, cleanly opened, no redness or irritation that she could see - though to be fair, the light was rather dim. She was torn between satisfying her curiosity and being rude; no one really liked to be gawked at even if they were an entirely new sort of medical oddity. Rose hadn't really been one to publish in her medical career - it was counter-productive to laying low and she tended to make a name for herself even when she was trying to blend in because she was both highly skilled and, unbeknownst to most, had magic on her side to help with her recovery rates.

She straightened a little, reminding herself that she had no gloves and should not be poking holes in another woman's body without her consent in the first place. The Queen inhabiting Marisol may not have minded, but Rose hadn't heard from the other woman sharing that strange body. "I hope she finds peace here in the cirque, then," she said quietly when the Queen had finished speaking to Vaughn. "There may be danger here now, but I've found the majority of the people to be kind." She had spent too many years being hypervigilant and then captive to feel entirely at ease yet, especially given the current goings on, and Rome, of course, but she was slowly coming to feel as if being here was better than being alone.

"Is Marisol aware, now?" she asked, glancing back to make sure Vaughn was handling things okay, one eyebrow arched in silent question. It had gotten colder. "Does she feel any of this?" She'd seen that momentary shift in the woman's body language.

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wehndigo
2017-11-22 11:14 pm UTC (link)

His face was blank, but the Queen's response was disconcerting. Marisol wasn't the only one with shit, the only one who'd been kicked when she was down, but he didn't particularly like that he'd just done the kicking, intentionally or not. Less than two full days at the cirque, and he was playing the bully on the playground. The lines around Vaughn's eyes deepened momentarily. He could hear his ex's voice in his head, breaking down the how and why of the psychological impetus for his repetitive inability to just play nice.

"She probably won't," he agreed. That didn't mean he wouldn't try later in the week, just for kicks.

A second look from Rose told him his instinct to back up and excuse himself from the party was a wise one. The good doctor had things under control. The Queen seemed to like her, at least. Vaughn lifted a hand at his side to gesture that he wasn't provoking the situation. "Enjoy your evening ..." He stalled and made a contemplative noise," the three of you." He wasn't sure if that was right, but it was the best he could muster. A mental reel of Macaulay Culkin getting stung to death in that movie he'd seen too many times as a kid kept playing in his head. He took another two steps backwards before turning and resuming his mission for food, leaving the two women to their more productive conversation.

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marisolhrndz
2017-11-23 06:22 pm UTC (link)

The Queen closed their eyes as Rose examined the holes and one of the visible drones started to close up its hole. It slathered honey in the hole, layer by layer and the honey began to turn to perfectly healed flesh. She believed that Rose would find fascination in this and perhaps she wouldn't worry as much about Marisol then. They would not ever need the services of this 'Bandaid' station except in extreme emergencies. Those rarely happened to hive. Not without an intense amount of bodies left behind.

"She doesn't trust men in general," The Queen stated with a faint frown. That made their mutual relationship complicated. The Queen loved to take part in the pleasures of flesh considering she could not otherwise and it wasn't difficult to find partners that wouldn't care what Marisol thought. But such an arrangement was not beneficial to maintaining the hive. Marisol had to be taken into consideration at all times. Her gaze returned to Rose and she managed a faint smile but said nothing about peace. After all, she was searching for a killer, for bodies. There would be no peace until it ended. Though she did say to Vaughn, "Poor little flesh eater, how ever will you survive this place?"

As for Rose's question... "For the most part, no, she is not aware and she cannot feel it. We paralyze her mind in this state, otherwise, it would drive her mad. We have learned from many hives before her," the Queen paused, "Occasionally, a moment winks through but never the pain. I would know as I live in the center of her mind."

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