Bee (runs_a_monk) wrote in strangergamesrp, @ 2012-10-19 17:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | bee, closed, heraclitus, log |
[Log] A Different World
Who: Bee, Heraclitus
When: October 1st
Where: The Infirmary
What: Bee and his dog have arrived! Oddly, he is not upset.
Warnings: None?
Open or Closed: Closed
Observable: No
*
Bee woke up to Cooter growling, low and soft. The dog’s head was on his chest. Bee reached up and blindly laid a hand over the dog’s head. Cooter stopped growling, and Bee opened his eyes to the bright lights. Bright lights, resting on a table, the chill and antiseptic smell of a hospital. Bee sat up. Cooter’s claws scrabbled on the slick metal as he sat beside Bee, his head nearly level with the young man’s.
Bee looked over to the side, and nodded to the person standing there. “Blessed be. Who are you?”
Quiet curiosity was in his voice, no alarm. Cooter’s tail thumped his hip as he draped an arm over the warm tri-colour hound.
“Ah, thank goodness your dog has stopped.” Heraclitus didn’t dislike dogs, but that one had been growling for a while now.
“I’m glad you’re awake young man, how do you feel?” Heraclitus asked. “Or should I refer to you as young lady?” DNA had revealed a few interesting things about this one, as had the scans they’d run over him.
Bee blinked, taken aback. How had the man known? “Young man is correct,” he answered, after a moment. Cooter licked his ear and he smiled a little. “A little light-headed. I’m afraid I don’t have the pleasure of your name?”
Heraclitus smiled. He liked this one. “My name, young man, is Heraclitus. I’m here to tell you what had happened, and hopefully answer all your questions.” Heraclitus cleared his throat and dug in a pocket before holding his hand out to the young man.
“Would you like a sweet?”
Bee looked at the candy longingly, but answered, “No, but thank you.” It wasn’t good for his teeth, even if they were so very good and rare. He stroked Cooter’s side. “If you are here to tell me what has happened, perhaps you could begin. I’m a little confused, sir.” He’d last been somewhere outside Beaufort, and in the middle of the forest. Definitely not anywhere near big enough to have a hospital.
Heraclitus shrugged and ate the candy himself. “I’m afraid you’re not in your own world anymore. You’ve been removed from it by the Machine, and brought here to Pacis Urbs,” Heraclitus explained, pausing to allow this information to sink in and for the young man to ask questions.
Bee considered it carefully. He nodded a little. “Pacis Urbs....peace?” he asked, tipping his head to the side. The tail of his braid dusted along the tabletop. “A city, then. And where have I been...landed in this city?”
“In a place especially created for travellers from other worlds such as yourself. This is a recurring problem, and we have a system set up to send you home as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the process to send you home costs a great deal of money,” Heraclitus continued, very appreciative of this young one’s calm gravity.
Ah. Bee looked down briefly. It was that way then.
“Then you require services in exchange for sending me home,” Bee surmised. “As I do not have any money on me.”
Heraclitus nodded. “Some choose to participate in the Games to entertain the crowds, but they are other ways to earn money here. Whatever skills you have, I’m sure we can find a way to put to use,” Heraclitus assured the young man.
“The Games. What do those entail?” Bee asked, patiently. One thing after another, carefully, methodically. New world, new city. Travellers, exchanges. And these Games. Bee reached up and stroked Cooter’s soft velvety ears.
“They are competitions between Otherworlders,” Heraclitus gave the simplest explanation that he could.
“Competitions of...what?” Bee persevered.
“Anything that can be considered a competition, boy. Mock battles, or obstacle courses, or any number of things,” Heraclitus smiled. No need to let on about the Dark Games just yet.
“Gladiators,” Bee offered, after a long moment of thought, pulling up his history lessons.
“Yes, I’ve heard that term before. However, we provide excellent treatment for any and all injuries. We also don’t throw people to the lions.” Heraclitus winked.
Bee raised an eyebrow. “You say a lot but you’re not telling me much.” He leaned into Cooter and eyed the old man.
Heraclitus smiled and leaned forward. “Hmm? I am only answering your questions. You’ll have to forgive me if this old man doesn’t answer them the way that pleases you. . .” Heraclitus paused and scratched at his beard. “Come to it, you haven’t told me your name, young sir.”
“Please call me Bee.”
Bee smiled. “And this is Cooter.” He patted the dog. “You don’t...there didn’t happen to be a mare to come with me as well?”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bee.” The old man smiled. “And Cooter.” Heraclitus shook his head. “No, just the two of you.”
Bee sighed. “I see.” Mimi would be safe, he prayed. He was quite fond of the little mare, as stubborn and ill-tempered as she could be. “I do not have any skills that you may find useful in these...games. I am a monk.”
“There are other things to do here--some cook or clean, or work in the Domus...” A monk would not appreciate a place of alcohol and vices, would he? Some didn’t mind, but it would be better to play it safe.
“Or work in the infirmary,” Heraclitus added. “Wherever your talents can be put to work, Brother Bee.”
“I see. You have had many others like me? Not travellers between worlds, that I see, but those of...religious orders?” Bee wanted to know. His curiosity was up and running around, pouncing on everything. Well, how could he help it? It was so like what happened in his world, and he knew from experience how many questions the travelers wanted to ask! He had answered so many he might be entitled to ask a few of his own.
“There are a few, but not many. I think some have set up a chapel for those who need a place to worship,” Heraclitus confirmed. It was hard to keep track of who had gone home and who was still in residence.
“I see. Thank you.” Bee shifted, and dangled his feet over the edge of the table. Cooter slithered to the edge and flowed down, nosing up against Bee’s knees before putting his nose down and starting to scent out the room, tail wagging. He was essentially a menace to anything delicate set about knee-height and below.
Bee watched him go with a calm watchfulness; he was accustomed to making sure the dog stayed out of trouble.
Heraclitus watched the dog with a fond smile. “There are others who have brought their animal companions with them. If you need any special accommodations, please let us know.”
“Cooter’s a good dog,” Bee assured him. A good dog, if young and enthusiastic. “This place for others, here, is this where we stay?” he asked,
“You’ll be staying on campus--in fact, you’re not allowed to leave. This is for your safety and ours as well. You see, sometimes Others carry diseases that can infect Natives very easily--even if the Other is not sick, you see. Also, some very violent people have been brought through in the past, so we really can’t allow you to wander the city freely, or things could get nasty,” Heraclitus explained. “But, we’ve already assigned you a room and a roommate to help you adjust to your stay here.”
Bee considered this. “Campus” was an old word and implied some sort of domain or...schooling? “So you have an area set aside just for us.” He looked down at his lap plucking at the scrubs, but his brow furrowed when he felt the collar shift with the movement. He reached up and touched it, running quick fingers over the smooth slim metal.
He raised an eyebrow and looked up at Heraclitus. “And this?”
“It’s a device that allows us to nullify the powers of the more violent Others who come through,” Heraclitus explained. “It helps us keep the more dangerous or combative Others from hurting themselves or others. Please do not think this is some kind of device that can control your thoughts. It’s simply provides us with a line to your nervous system, allowing us to cap powers or knock someone out if we have to.”
Bee considered this. “It is not...harmful?” That was a very important question.
Heraclitus shook his head. “No. It also translates your language into others languages, as very few people here speak the same language.” Heraclitus smiled. “It’s a very useful device.” The man paused as someone brought him a reader. He peered at the screen and then looked at Bee.
“I’m sorry, but do you know you’re radioactive, young man?” Not the strangest thing to happen, but it still deserved scrutiny.
Bee blinked. “Oh? Ah, I, yes. Cooter is too, I think. How...no, that’s not...” He trailed off, shook his head, and started again. “Is that...normally something you check for?”
“It’s one of the things we check for, yes, but not something we usually find.” Heraclitus peered very closely at Bee. “That would explain some anomalies of your anatomy.” The old man admitted. “Is this...harmful? Or has your body adapted to it? Are you a risk to others?”
“Oh, no, not at all. The place I’m from, well, there was a great war. Nuclear weapons were used world-wide. So sick places - where radiation is strong - are not uncommon. I’m not harmful, I do not think...just don’t let me stand near your X-ray plates,” Bee explained, carefully, biting at his lip as he found the right words. Fortunately, he’d just been in a town and words came easily to hand - when he’d been out in the wild places for weeks, months...sometimes that made it hard to think of the word he wanted, when he hadn’t spoken to another soul for so long.
“It shouldn’t interfere with you collar, but if you can’t understand someone, or you start seeing strange things, or anything else odd, please let us know--just in case.” The man smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Do you have any other questions?”
Bee thought about it, and patted his leg so Cooter would come back to him “Not right now,” he concluded, calmly.
‘If you think of anything else, you can always come and ask me, or you can ask Gin Charlie. He’s in charge of your floor. If anyone give you trouble, please seek him out.” Heraclitus smiled and shuffled to his feet. “My old bones are stiff, or I would take you down to you room myself. It’s on the third floor, and your name will be on it--you should speak to Gin Charlie about accommodations for your dog.”
“Thank you. I will. Can you tell me where to find him?” Bee got to his feet, and straightened the scrubs. He made a slight face. Drafty. “Um, my clothes?”
“He’s in the office of the commons---you’ll know you’re there when you see the hideous carpet,” Heraclitus promised. “Your belongings were placed in your room.”
“What floor?” Bee asked, leaning down to pet Cooter. The hound leaned against his thigh, wagging his tail.
“The third floor,” Heraclitus repeated. “You’ll go into the elevator and press the three--are there elevators in your world?”
“In some of the cities, yes,” Bee answered, straightening. “I...have not personally seen one, though.”
Hereclitus smiled. “Then, my boy, you’ll get a new experience today.” On top of many others.
“I think this all qualifies,” Bee answered, and smiled.