Jeremy Chandler [is Merlin] (arrogant_prat) wrote in elsewhere_rpg, @ 2017-10-18 15:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | dresden files: jeremy chandler, tags for admin: year 01 |
Thread - Marco/Jez
Who: Marco & The Wizard of Oz the Woods
What: The Shapeshifter is doing recon and gets made.
When: Oct. 17th, Afternoon
Where: The East Woods
Rating: PG-13
Status: Log - Complete
Roy had given Marco a task: to track down and keep tabs on the monster in the woods. The one who had come through the portal with suitcases. The one who Tex said seemed calm. The one who Tex said had nearly killed her. And to nearly kill a beast like that? Well, Roy was right to tell the shifters to keep their distance and just watch. He wanted intel. He wanted to know what to expect.
They had been watching the monster in the woods for two days now, on different shifts. And the monster wasn’t very impressive, really. He and his leather-bound luggage had finally set up some sort of camp deep in the woods. He’d pulled a tent from his things and set it up, then tucked his things inside and with a snap of his fingers, had a fire going outside. A few wards cast around the area ensured that the other monsters would stay out (Grey would feel them like a headache when he got too close) and he’d settled himself in for the night. The morning had been dull, a few of the large beasts in the woods came by, but all of them avoided the warded area.
And the man sitting at his fire ate a few snacks from his bag in peace.
The only real odd thing?
He had a cat. A small tabby cat that hung around with him. The monster called him ‘Nova’, and the beast liked to sit beside him, or on his shoulder, and the monster with the suitcases seemed to enjoy talking to him.
When it became late afternoon, he finally got up from the fire and wandered towards the edge of his wards and near to the tree Marco had perched himself in. He tilted his head back slightly and those too-blue eyes peered through the branches, before he looked back down at a book he was holding.
“You can come down, you know.” The crisp Oxford accent seemed so out of place here in these woods, just outside of the town of Elsewhere, which was certainly not England, no matter how hard you squinted. “I’ve enough food to share, if you’re hungry.”
***
Marco was in a tree. He’d spent a lot of time the last few days in a tree. This was exhausting; at least with infected Jake there’d been more than two of them, and he hadn’t been moving. Marco wanted a bed, but he’d take a patch of dirt at this point. It was hard to believe that this guy had wrecked Texas, but at the same time, Marco knew not to judge on appearances. After all, he was a prime example of why that was a bad idea.
So he watched. Marco had plucked himself on a branch just inside the area that Grey couldn’t stand on the assumption that it’d keep other monsters who might want an osprey snack out of the area.
He picked at his feathers, because it felt good and there was no reason not to.
Mostly, the only question that Marco had from his several days of watching the really boring wizard-monster was who takes a cat camping? And what kind of cat would put up with it? Weirdos.
Then he started walking towards Marco.
’Be calm, Marco, it’ll look weird if you just bail.’ So he kept grooming himself, fully intent on acting like a bird until the man… monster… whatever… spoke to him.
Shit.
Should he answer?
Marco fluttered, taking up a much higher perch, and eventually decided to respond.
{{ No, thank you. You’ve beaten up things way tougher than me, and I’m not that stupid.}}
***
A small smile overtook the man’s-- monster’s-- face. He was very angular with high cheekbones, cobalt eyes, and slightly curly reddish hair. He was dressed fashionably in a three piece suit made of wool-- pinstripe-- and walked with a cane. A cane which, presently, was tucked up under his arm.
“I’m certain that’s correct. However, I have never harmed someone who hadn’t been intending to harm me first. Now I’m quite convinced that you are not here to harm me, or you would have taken the ample opportunities I’ve afforded you. I have not extended so many opportunities to your friend the skinwalker.” Grey.
Of course he’d made them both.
“I implore you, come down from there. If you are watching me because you have questions, I am more than happy to answer them. I must admit that I have a few of my own.” The cane was lowered from beneath his arm and the tip pressed into the ground as both hands rested on the silver handle.
***
Yeah, no. Lots of things acted nice and still wanted to kill you. Edriss, for example. Though in her case, killing would have been the comfortable option. She was fucked up. Even for an alien slug.
The thing had a British accent. It could mean something, or not. That was the problem with having no idea what was going on; Marco had no idea what information was relevant. It was a pain in the ass. {{ We can talk from here; this is fine.}} Marco told him. And then he did follow up with a question, {{What’s a skinwalker?}} He asked seriously.
Hell, he’d either get a real answer or some information about this… whatever. Either way, it was something.
***
What’s a skinwalker.
The monster on the ground tilted his head. “A skinwalker is a Naagloshii. They are shapeshifters. They feed on your fear and it makes them more powerful, and when they overcome you, they feed on your flesh, your magic, and become you.” He shifted the cane into one hand, leaning slightly upon it as his words were directed to the base of the tree in front of him, instead of tilting his head back. It hurt his neck. He hadn’t looked up but just that once.
He didn’t need to.
“They feed on power, and magic, and they delight in eating people just like me. However, I’m sure now that your skinwalker friend is some sort of half breed.” He didn’t feel right. Something was off.
He gave this monster the creeps, but not so much that he was afraid of him. No, it would take monsters much powerful to scare this monster.
This world was a terrifying one, to be sure.
“You are something else entirely.. And I would very much like to discuss that with you.” Of course he would. This man-- this monster-- was always thirsting after knowledge.
***
Well, that was terrifying. Like there weren’t enough frightening things in the world. Great. {{Yeah, that figures.}} Marco responded. Grey hadn’t eaten anyone; if he had, there was no way the group would have put up with him. They were too interconnected, except maybe for him and Killian, and Grey seemed to like him, so he was probably off the menu.
Some sort of half breed?
{{Wait. So those horrible monsters get down with humans? How does that work?}} Marco would have made a face if he were human.
He wanted to discuss Marco.
The bird looked down at the monster. Birds didn’t show emotion.
{{A question for a question.}} Marco told him.
***
The way the bird spoke. The words he used. The speech pattern.
This was a child.
“They are shapeshifters, they may take the shape of whomever they please. All they need is a touch to become someone. To become you.” He tapped his cane into the soft earth twice. “And once that is done, they do what they please with whom they please. I can only assume that your friend is quite powerful for a halfling, or he would surely be dead by now.” This monster was surprisingly forthcoming with answers. He didn’t try to beat around the bush, he didn’t lie, he only spoke coolly and factually, and with all the confidence of a creature with hundreds of years of life.
So sure of himself.
So arrogant, but not in such a way that was off-putting. He wasn’t cocky, but only had an amount of confidence in himself that seemed like it might have been a bit overboard.
It wasn’t.
A question for a question.
“Your name, if you would be so kind.” For all this knowledge, he wanted only a name in return? It wasn’t about trading secrets right now, it was about winning trust. Secrets came later.
***
{{No, I get that part,}} Marco answered. He could do the same thing. Albeit with a lot more restrictions than Grey seemed to have. Which the other shapeshifter pointed out constantly to the degree Marco wanted to just say ‘I KNOW’ all the time, {{I just don’t get the why. I mean, I’m a bird right now. That doesn’t mean I want to have sex with birds. Ew.}}
Why would non-humans mate with humans? It’d be like trying to cuddle up to a Hork Bajir. Oh, yeah, baby, show me your arm blades, they get me horny.
No, thanks.
{{Marco}} He answered easily, being unaware of the power of names, {{What’s yours?}} He asked in return.
***
“You are not a thousand years old and bored by the thought of having intercourse with the same creatures you’ve been indulging in for the last several centuries. They live a very long time, they bore easily. Their attentions are fickle and they lack proper emotion. Intimate relations are little but entertainment to them and to try out the many different flavors the world has to offer? Well, I suppose that offers them something to hold their interest. At least for now.” He turned his cane slightly, digging the iron tip into the dirty below his feet.
“Marco.” He repeated the name, the way he said it was almost reverent, it was soft and slow, testing it out on his Oxford-accented lips and seeming to taste the letters as they rolled from his tongue. It was certainly unlike anyone had ever spoken his name before.
“My friends call me Jezzah, Marco, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.” He gestured vaguely to a spot in front of him. “I give you my word, no harm will come to you, should you choose to come down. And I am a man of my word.”
There was just something about him, something about this monster, that made him seem.. Safe. He was calm. Solid. Resolute. A rock in a storm. He was very nearly gentle. And so very knowledgable. Far more than any of his colleagues or ‘friends’ knew.
***
Marco considered this explanation. In that case, why would they stop with humans? {{Is that where werewolves would come from?}} Marco asked seriously. He didn’t know! None of this shit existed at home, which was good, because things were already weird enough!
He liked how the man said his name. Which in turn was something he didn’t like. The bird picked at a feather nervously (not that this was conveyed, as again, Marco was a bird). Anything that he liked that much had to be a trap.
Everything was a trap.
{{Yeah, but you see, even if you weren’t a man of your word, you would say you are. No liar runs around shouting that they’re a liar.}} Marco informed him. He wanted to make it clear that although he was talking, which was in and of itself a bad idea, that didn’t mean he was completely stupid. Sure, he wanted to trust the guy. Hell, he wanted to fly down and perch on his shoulder.
That didn’t mean it was a good idea.
***
“Werewolves were born of a similar nature, though not of the Naagloshii.. But you are correct in your assumptions that it was co-mingling that brought them into existence.” Another faint smile crossed his lips. Turning his body just slightly, he considered his tent, then focused on the tree again.
“You are aware that I am powerful, is that so?” He’d wait for some sort of response to the affirmative before he continued. “And that makes you aware that despite your being in this tree, out of reach of my hands, that I could still capture or kill you, in a manner of seconds. But I haven’t.” He allowed that to sink in a moment before the monster spoke again, the cane moving to his right hand.
“You are not here to harm me and that means I have no interest in harming you. I am good, as far as I am able to define the word and apply it to myself, and I would like to prove it to you, Marco.” Again, the way he said his name was so.. Perfect. Slightly different this time, but no less wonderful. He was searching. “Anything. Ask it of me, to prove to you my good intentions, and I will give it.”
A free ticket. Anything the little birdy wanted. What a wide open offer. It was a show of trust-- a grand show of trust. He was trusting Marco not to ask anything insane.
***
{{ Immortals are weird.}} Was Marco’s solemn pronouncement. He would stick with humans, thank you. He liked breasts. Breasts were nice. Hopefully he would live long enough to see some more of them. It was true that he might be able to kill or capture him, but that didn’t mean that his intentions were good.
{{Sure, you could,}} Marco agreed, {{But you want to ask me questions, which means you can’t read my mind, and maybe you want answers more than you want me dead. I don’t know. Maybe you’re using me for information and then you’ll kill us all.}} He wanted to ask the man to stop using his name, but he couldn’t think of a good way to do so.
Ask him for anything?
Marco… drew a blank. There wasn’t much he wanted. Not that this man could do, or that would be evident. But he wasn’t going to tell the man that.
{{Okay. I want to know what you are.}}
That was his request.
***
Tilting his head slightly, in obvious understanding, the monster below spoke again. “Will telling you what I am bring you to trust me? Will it grant you the confidence to come down from that tree, Marco, and stand with me?” His name was like butter. Warmer that time. Melting off of the Oxford man’s lips as he spoke to the tree in front of him.
If it would, of course the man would give it up.
If not? Well, he might just do it anyway. A good faith response.
***
{{No, I won’t trust you.}} He answered honestly, {{But I’ll come down.}} The information, be it true or false, would be worth it, because either way it would tell them something. It wasn’t the man’s fault; Marco didn’t trust anybody here.
He wasn’t that special. The bird shuddered when he used his name again, {{What are you doing with my name?}} He asked suspiciously.
***
He’d come down. That was good enough.
“I am a wizard, Marco. Nothing more and nothing less.. Though I am very old. Older than all of your friends. Older than anyone in your family. Older than grandparents, great grandparents, and their great grandparents. I am very old.. And very tired. Far too tired to care about telling lies. My lies left me along with my youth and the inability to remember them all. I am only this,” he opened out his arms, cane held simply by the neck in one hand, as if showing off himself, his body, and his soul inside, “As you see me.” His arms lowered again.
Why was he saying his name. Such a clever boy.
“There is power in a Name. A true Name. I am searching for yours. I’m certain I’m close.. But as I’ve said, I’m good, by my standards, and mean you no harm. Now please, come down. You may keep your bird form if it pleases you, but know that it is entirely unnecessary.” Because this man, this monster, this.. Jezzah.. Had no interest in hurting Marco.
***
{{How old are you?}} Marco asked. True to his word, the osprey flapped down and took up a perch on the wizard’s shoulder, being careful with his talons so they didn’t rake or dig into his skin. {{Yeah, well, if you’re a wizard, then you’re NOT just what you seem.}} Marco pointed out. Again, he wasn’t stupid.
{{Stop it.}} He said, {{Leave my Name alone.}} The Thoughtspeak voice had a bit of a scowl to it, {{You’re manipulating me.}} He didn’t like it.
And you bet his ass he was staying as an osprey. Ospreys could fly. Flying was useful. And there was no need to show Jezzah what he looked like. He would bet that wasn’t Jezzah’s true form anyway.
***
“Old enough that I no longer count birthdays, nor care to remember my age.” He answered with a small smile, shifting his cane to his opposite hand so that he might reach up towards the bird. “May I?” He inquired, clearly meaning to stroke the feathers of the animal on his shoulder. It was painfully obvious this man liked animals. After all, who had a cat in the woods? A cat who watched from the tent, eyes glowing slightly in the filtered sunlight.
“If you wish.” He’d no longer search for the boy’s Name. Not until he needed it, at least. Then all bets were off. “But I was not manipulating you, I was merely speaking. Finding your True Name and using it? That would be manipulating you, and while I was searching for it, I had no intentions of using it against you.” Not yet, anyway.
But situations changed...
***
That wasn’t an answer. It was a cop out answer. {{Sure.}} Marco liked being touched as an animal, and it wasn’t weird like being touched as a human was. There wasn’t any social stuff attached to it, it was just a bird who liked being preened. Normal.
{{If you aren’t going to use it, then stop looking for it.}} The telepathic voice was firm. No manipulating. He understood, and he didn’t like it. If Jezzah wasn’t going to use it, he didn’t need it.
{{How do you come and go through the portals like that?}} Marco asked him, {{Where do they go?}} They all wanted to know, but none of them was stupid enough to dive head first into them. After all, what if there were monsters, or lava pits, or it was ice cold, or…
Regardless, it was a bad idea.
***
Permission granted, long, slender fingers lifted and he stroked them along the bird’s head, scratching lightly beneath his neck and at the back of it, just where birds loved to be rubbed. He moved down along his back in long, smooth strokes, avoiding the tail and wings. Inevitably, he came back up to scratch along the bird’s face and head again.
Gentle touches. Soft. Warm. Caring. They were caresses more than anything else, designed to feel amazing. The bird was so very soft.
“The portal I came from was the Nevernever. The other portals I have seen.. Some of them are Nevernever, others are to some place else. I have seen monsters come and go. Some go nowhere, I’m certain. Others go to different worlds. You don’t know until you try one, where you’ll end up, unless it’s a Known Way, through the Nevernever. I don’t imagine many of these portals are.”
Just a wealth of information. They should have been sent out here to talk to him, to capture him, not just to watch him.
***
It did feel good. There was something about being touched as an animal that was unique; animals could let themselves go in a way that humans never could. Marco leaned into the touch, rubbing his feathers against the man’s hand and squishing his head down in what was clearly a happy signal from the bird.
{{What’s the Nevernever?}} Marco asked with less hostility in his voice, {{And how do you know where the portals go? If you don’t know, why would you step in one?}} He asked seriously. That was just stupid.
Different worlds. That couldn’t be good. Marco couldn’t articulate why, but it wasn’t good.
***
The monster-- er, wizard-- continued to stroke the bird’s head with a little smile. It was soothing for him. His cat watched jealously. “The Nevernever is the spirit world. It exists alongside our own as sort of.. an alternate dimension, if you would. But the shape of the Nevernever is not the same as our own world. The Nevernever is much more vast, much larger than the mortal world we here live on. It may very well be infinite.” His fingers stroked along the bird’s head before smoothing down over his chest and scratching there lightly.
“The Nevernever touches the mortal world in places that they are similar, where they have something in common, a place where energies have a similar resonance. If a point inside the Nevernever is dark and spooky, the place it touches in the mortal world is also dark and spooky. And five feet in any direction in the Nevernever might be.. A sad place. And that sad place might lead to a cemetery halfway across the planet here in the mortal world.” It was a lot of information to take in. But, this man-- this wizard-- clearly knew what he was talking about and wasn’t scared to share the information. That should have been troubling.
“You can cross through the Nevernever using portals like the ones that show up here, by going into that cemetery and entering there, then crossing those five feet through the Nevernever, and ending up on the other side of the planet. It’s very dangerous, even if you know the Way.. and not many do.” But this wizard seemed to be an exception.
***
Marco listened to the man explain while enjoying having his feathers stroked. Man, this guy was good at it. He wondered what it would be like to be a dog around this guy. Dogs really liked human contact.
{{Oh, I get it. It’s the magical voodoo version of Z-Space.}} Marco ‘said’ with the equivalent of a shrug. Bigger than normal, doesn’t correspond to normal space, shit’s all weird there if you don’t know what you’re doing? Yup, that was Z-Space. Sounded a lot less boring, though. Sure, you could be in Z-Space (they’d unfortunately found that out first hand), but there wasn’t air so it tended to end poorly.
***
“That sounds as if it could be an accurate assessment.” He agreed with a slowly growing smile. “From what I have gathered during my time here, people have come from many different worlds. Yours seems to be somewhat different from my own.” A pause followed as he continued to lavish attention upon the animal. “How old are you, Marco?” A return question from the boy's earlier query.
He seemed young. The wizard guessed perhaps fifteen or sixteen. Maybe a young seventeen, but no older. And certainly modern, maybe the late nineties. Timelines had never been an issue for the animal lover.
***
Yeah, no shit it was ‘somewhat different’. For one, Marco’s world didn’t have wizards in it. Or magic. So that was a little bit of a difference. Just a little bit. It was hard to be too disgruntled when the man’s fingers were finding that spot between the feathers that his beak could never reach. It was like someone scratching your back, but better.
{{I’m 16.}} He answered. And here was time for the man to start not taking him seriously.
Which was actually helpful in this case.
{{What’s in your suitcases?}} Marco asked.
***
Sixteen. About what he expected. “Sixteen.” He repeated the word. “It’s the best time of your life, Marco. No longer a child. Not yet an adult. You’re right on the cusp and yet no one really expects anything great of you just yet. It’s the best time in the world to be utterly useless, or exceedingly great.” Stroking along that spot on Marco’s back, he’d take a moment to focus there, scratching in just the right spot as he felt the bird on his shoulder give a happy little shiver. Ah yes. If he was a dog, he’d be kicking his leg.
“The suitcases? My clothing. I was returning home from a trip I took to the United States. Somehow, I suppose I took a wrong turn.” It was impossible. Even the tone of his voice said that he didn’t believe a word of it. There was no way that he, Jeremy Chandler, had taken a wrong turn through the Nevernever. Not on a route he knew so very well.
Not him.
Something had gone wrong. Something out of his control.
***
The best time of your life.
The bird laughed bitterly in Thoughtspeak, a laugh that was far too old for someone Marco’s age, {{See, that’s why eventually I’m either blowing my brains out or going dog. If it’s all downhill from here? Man, that’s fucked up.}} Yes, he was bitter. So what? Who wouldn’t be in his situation? He’d done all the work and gotten none of the rewards, just more shit and a fucked up brain.
The man sounded like he didn’t believe it.
{{Maybe something funny happened with time nearby?}} Marco suggested, jumping into problem solving mode, even if it was a problem he didn’t know was real or should be solved, {{Like if you fell through a Saario Rip, then the Nevernever would change because spacetime would be all fucked up and I bet these Way things are fluid, right?}}
{{Where are you from if you’re not American?}}
***
That brought about another smile and the monster-- er, Wizard-- Jezzah-- he nodded in agreement. “It is rather awful.” He admitted without pretense. He wasn’t one to pull his punches, he was far too old for that. “But may I suggest a cleaner method of offing yourself, should you choose. Think of the mess that’ll be left to clean.” That.. said a whole lot about Jeremy Chandler. Far, far too much.
But his hand soon dropped away from the bird to give an idle wave, as if to say they didn’t need to speak on such serious topics as what might have gone wrong. He’d been trying to figure that out for days already.
“Where am I from? I am English, dear boy. You can’t have expected that someone with such impeccable fashion sense and impeccable sense of self be American.” Well, and there was that painfully proper Oxford accent. He sounded like the damn Queen. His hand came to straighten up his tie, gloved fingers lingering there a moment before slipping down over the silk and ensuring it was straight and pressed. Not a speck nor smudge of dirt anywhere.
He didn’t have to ask where Marco was from. The boy practically had a neon sign hanging over his head screaming ‘American’.
***
{{I considered that, but humans have stupid survival instincts,}} The bird groused, {{And there aren’t many things that are clean and would kill me quickly enough that my subconscious wouldn’t fix it.}} So a bullet it was probably going to be. If the wizard was far too comfortable with death, so was Marco. You couldn’t have lived his life and not have become a little fucked up.
So the man claimed to be English. Sure, on the surface it had seemed like a stupid question, but it wasn’t like faking an accent was har-
{{Hey!}} Marco objected, {{I’ll have you know my fashion sense is excellent when I’m not in my morphing outfit. I look fantastic, thank you.}} Thus laying to rest any doubt about Marco’s nationality.
{{It’s not my fault clothes are hard.}} He grumbled.
***
And there it was.
Undeniably, undoubtedly American.
It even brought about a soft chuckle from the reserved man, though it began and ended swiftly. “Perhaps when you feel comfortable enough around me, you might show me.” Finally, the man in his three-piece pinstripe suit was tapping his cane against one wingtip shoe and turned to head back to his tent. Of course, he brought the bird along with him. “And you’re quite certain about not being hungry? I’ve enough to share.” Over to the fire he’d been tending earlier, Jezzah sat down on the log he’d propped up and the tabby cat leapt into his lap, eyes riveted on the bird-- who was quite as large as he was.
The cane was leaned against the log so that a hand could settle onto the cat’s head and stroke gently. “And you would be a welcome guest.”
***
{{I don’t know, are you fan of puking?}} Marco asked. That was the first thing people wanted to see: Marco, morph for us! Making it into a party trick. He’d taken to acquiring and morphing famous people because it was less weird for people to watch than say… osprey, and looked better on TV. But he had no desire to show Jezzah morphing.
He was hungry.
{{I’m sure,}} He told the wizard, his eyes settling on the cat who was far too interested in Marco for the bird’s comfort, {{I should probably go before Grey thinks you rang my neck or I did something stupid.}} Or he’d never hear the end of it.
***
The wizard slowly lifted his eyebrows.
“Allow me to regale you with a story, my friend.” Oh. Lord. Here it was.
“A very, very long time ago-- longer now than ever before-- a fish heaved itself up onto land, out of the sea. It gasped in the atmosphere and strained under gravity it had never known before, it returned to the sea many times, and its offspring too learned to make their way onto land. This fish soon grew and evolved, leaving the sea behind, trading fins for limbs, trading scales for skin, through millions of stages, countless branches on the tree of evolution.. But one of those branches ended with two legs, two arms, ten fingers and toes, opposable thumbs, and brains capable of thought, reasoning, knowing the difference between right and wrong.” That red head tilted slightly. “But most importantly..” A pause. “Eyelids.”
What was wrong with this man?
Really!
He’d just close his eyes and turn his back to you if you didn’t want him to see you change, Marco, it really wasn’t that big of a deal!
However: “If you must return, I will not delay you further, Marco.” The cat settled down onto Jezzah’s lap and began to purr, eyes slitting in his comfort.
***
Marco was about to respond sarcastically that yes, he knew how evolution worked, but when Jezzah said that eyelids were most important, Marco snorted. Okay, so he liked this guy. That just made him more suspicious, and maybe he shouldn’t, but he did. In response, he took off from Jezzah’s shoulder and perched himself in a nearby tree.
{{Okay, crazy magic dude and crazy magic cat,}} Because obviously the cat was magic. What wizard would take around a NON-magic cat? {{I guess this is peace out.}} His head jerked around, noting the surroundings and letting the bird decide if there was any reason for them not to take to the air.
There wasn’t.
So he flew upwards again, heading towards the outer area where he knew Grey was waiting.
So much for the ‘watch without being detected’ plan, but at least he had some things to tell everyone.