(no subject)

[friendlyfiend]

Characters: A'kin the Friendly Fiend and YOU
Setting: 3-18, dorm floors, and the Cafeteria
Format: Willing to follow your lead
Summary: Arrivals are confusing; arrivals when the Tower is preparing for mischief doubly so.
Warnings: None


Room 3-18
His first thought is that he must have been summoned; that he's been gated by a fellow 'loth for some reason, or that somehow, somewhere, some berk had got their hands on a copy of the Book of Keeping... But why him, of all yugoloths, and why is he immobilized flat on his back against some kind of soft surface, why is he not hearing demands or gloating or anything at all from whoever or whatever is responsible for this?

The thirty seconds of paralysis seem to stretch on for ages as A'kin's mind darts from one unanswerable question to another. Once he's able to move, his surroundings still offer no answers. There's no residual summoning magic that he can detect; no magic at all, save for a few suspiciously familiar items in the trunk by his bed; no watching presence that any of his divinations can reveal. The sense of resistance when he tries to teleport tells him that this isn't anywhere in Sigil, but he can't reach familiar locations on other planes, either. The only thing the arcanaloth can find that might be some sort of clue is a tiny note tucked in some clothing, and its simply-written message of destruction is completely implausible.

"What are you playing at here, I wonder...."

Forcing a pleasant, amicable grin that he's not really feeling right now, A'kin steps outside.


Dormitory Hallways
"......"
"I'm sorry, say again?"
"....."
"My friend, I don't understand..."
"......"
"I don't follow, cutter...."

Anyone departing from or returning to their rooms may find themself greeted by an odd sight- a worker unit being interrogated by a jackal-headed being in brightly-colored robes. As the one-sided conversation continues, his look of confusion at the unintelligible babble deepens into a worried scowl. Being transported against his will was troubling enough, but this...

Cafeteria
Having eventually given up on that information source, A'kin eventually meanders his way to the Cafeteria, hoping that the lure of food will create an informal gathering place. From time to time he idly picks at the unappetizing oatmeal, but the majority of his attention is on the other diners.

Comments

[friendlyfiend]

For a moment, it seems as if A'kin is about to ask another question- and then he abruptly hesitates and looks away, abashed.

"I'm sorry; I'm imposing on you, aren't I? I don't even know enough yet to know what I'll need to know, and it's hardly fair to pass on that burden. 'Please tell me everything about everything' is a spire-climb if ever there was one."

[warriorscribe]

"No." Enoch's response is immediate. "The knowledge we gain should be shared. What else do you want to know?"

[friendlyfiend]

"Aside from 'all of it', you mean? It's been ages since I've been this new to a kip; I hardly know where to start..." A'kin forces down another couple spoonfuls of oatmeal as he ponders.

"Dangers that might not be readily apparent to the sods who aren't already expecting them, perhaps? I'm certain I'll get the hang of this eventually, but I'd rather not learn things the hard way if I can avoid it."

[warriorscribe]

That was...very easy to do. Or, perhaps not easy, but something Enoch is by now used to doing; he'd used his own experiences as an example of the tower's cruelty for some time now. They were painful wounds to keep open, but if they prevented others from making the same mistakes...

"The twenty first level offers food of better quality and variety than this one, but don't eat there. The task they will ask of you in payment is next to impossible. If you fail to complete it, they will take part of your body instead."

[friendlyfiend]

"And not informing buyers beforehand," A'kin guesses, frowning darkly. "They sound little better than cross-traders, peeling customers like that."

He's familiar with the type; it's much like a typical devil's deal in structure, made all the worse by the fact their hosts almost certainly can control supply here and could easily force the issue if any aspiring chefs tried to set themselves up as an alternative.

"Please tell me those wretches don't see much business?"

[warriorscribe]

"I was told the consequences when I asked, but that was after I had been told what they wanted in payment."

Enoch picks off a piece of bread roll in quick, nervous movements, otherwise appearing somewhat distressed, but overall composed. "Not that I've seen. I warn away anyone I can. But one of our hosts has a tendency to provide us with only the minimum for survival for a month, leading some to try to seek variety on that level."

[friendlyfiend]

"Only after it was already too late."

After everything else he's been told, that's not surprising. A'kin sighs and pushes his partially-eaten meal aside, turning to look over at Enoch with a sympathetic expression.

"I'm sorry that you had to suffer through all of that. You're well now, I hope?"

[warriorscribe]

Enoch nods. "I am. I was lucky enough to have friends and family here that could heal me...and I suspect resurrection restored the kidney they took, too."

After all, if other people had wounds that were gone when they'd resurrected...

I know shouldn't be tagging right now, but....

[friendlyfiend]

"Resurrection?" A'kin stares, obviously impressed. "You're lucky indeed if you have friends willing and able to call you back from death."

And I probably shouldn't be compounding the problem. <_<

[warriorscribe]

"No, no...that...that's something else about this place. It seems to be true for all worlds that aren't one's own. Death isn't permanent; you'll awaken the next day."

Enoch stares at his food for a little while. "I worry for the children here. What they'll learn of death if they live here too long..."

[friendlyfiend]

"From what you've told me, this bleeding birdcage sounds a poor place for anyone to live too long, let alone a child."

He shakes his head in distaste, then moves on to the rest of Enoch's words. If he's telling the truth- and he's given A'kin no reason to suspect otherwise- then the metaphysics here are profoundly alien to anything he's encountered or even heard of.

"But... you say that's a property of all planes of this kind? For all beings transported? Not to question your sincerity, but I can't imagine how that could be possible for anything but mortals."

[warriorscribe]

"It's been true of both foreign worlds I've been pulled to, and I am not mortal."

Enoch's stare at his plate becomes almost wistful-looking. "Our provider in Meridian - the world I was in before this one - said it was because we were outsiders. Our hosts here have said the same thing."

[friendlyfiend]

"...You're planetouched, yes?" A'kin asks, regarding Enoch curiously.

"The immortality of an aasimar or tiefling isn't exactly the same as that of celestials and fiends; you lot still have spiritual duality as mortals do.

Calling a soul back to its body takes a fair amount of magic to begin with. Bringing back those whose body and soul aren't divisible is an even greater task. To restore planeborne to life so readily... this place must be treating the souls of 'outsiders' quite strangely indeed."

[warriorscribe]

"Planetouched?" Enoch repeats, listening to A'kin and trying his hardest to grasp from context what he meant.

"I'm...not entirely certain what you mean. Or that our souls even leave our bodies to begin with." He isn't sure, but he thinks he would remember attempting to be taken somewhere, right...?

"I'm afraid I don't understand many of your terms..."

[friendlyfiend]

"Terribly sorry about that, my friend; I had meant to clarify, not confuse.

'Planetouched' is the collective term for those who have the essence of the planes about them- usually as a result of having some sort of planeborne being in their ancestry. Cutters with fiendish, celestial, or elemental heritage are what you get most often, but it's not unheard of for them to spring up in other ways or from other sources."

A bit less detailed of an explanation than he might give under other circumstances, but the question of how death and souls work in this place is still occupying much of A'kin's attention. Profoundly alien metaphysics indeed....

"Was that the only part where I lost you, or...?"

[warriorscribe]

At least the "celestial" mention helps him along. Enoch takes a guess at A'kin's meaning again.

"You are asking, then, if I have the essence of Heaven?"

[friendlyfiend]

A'kin nods. It had been more like 'assuming' than 'asking', but he's beginning to to question how much common frame of reference he can really assume here.

"Regardless of how you came by it, you do have something of that nature about you."

[warriorscribe]

Well...he certainly wasn't an ordinary human anymore. And the encounter with Rei had proven he wasn't so to certain supernatural senses either. He wasn't sure how much to reveal, since he wasn't sure how much he could explain.

"I'm...human. I may not be the same as others anymore, but what sets me apart is that I was invited to Heaven while still alive."

[friendlyfiend]

And there go his hopes of being able to take any commonalities for granted. Visiting the Upper Planes while alive shouldn't be able to have this kind of effect on a man's nature... but visiting the planes isn't a rarefied privilege, either. Grasping for understanding, he seizes on the one part of that which made sense.

"So... you were uniquely favored?"

[warriorscribe]

Enoch nods. "God summoned me to Heaven to act as scribe for the Council of Elders."

Normally he would steer clear of mentioning the Council. After all, God wasn't thought to need one. But this was a being from another world entirely.

[friendlyfiend]

"I would have guessed you for their paladin sooner than their scribe, but you seem like it would suit you well."

The existence of a divinely-appointed council of celestials isn't remotely aberrant from A'kin's perspective- but even if it was, the religious context would be reason enough to hold his tongue. Spiritual matters are one thing; gods are another entirely.

"You were saying, though, that you believe your soul stayed with your body when you died here? Is that normal for your experience of immortality?"

[warriorscribe]

"'Paladin'?" Enoch repeats immediately after A'kin says it. He assumes it's some sort of warrior. He knows he looks the part. He is one, really, has been for literally as far back as his memory goes. His memory of being a scribe in Heaven is very faint by now, where it exists at all.

Regardless, the other had begun to speak again - and Enoch's reaction is immediate and clearly more emotional than logical. "No. As far as I know...my immortality only prevents me from aging."

[friendlyfiend]

"I'm sorry.. I had no intention to thorn you." A'kin shakes his head, ears flattened back anxiously.

"The experience you described should not, could not, happen where I'm from without active and powerful intervention. This place seems to either be operating under a very different system of metaphysics than my world's, or else putting a great deal of energy into subverting them... but what you've spoken of your world is curious to me too, if less unnerving. I don't know what I can take for granted anymore."

[warriorscribe]

"No, I'm sorry. Souls that remain earthbound when the body dies are...matters I dealt with at home. Certainly other worlds must have different rules, but...the ones that seem connected to...rifts to multitudes of other worlds seem to be consistent, though."

Enoch picks another piece off his bread roll distractedly. It was strange, but after he'd accepted the idea of different worlds, he hadn't given much thought to how different they were...