wickedchouette | (no subject)

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[Alfie greets and makes nice with newcomers when he comes across them, but he doesn't go out of his way to seek them out. He's not interested in being part of any de facto welcome wagon, especially not now that more and more people are filtering their way in, either to use the Meadous as a waypoint or to settle down and stay; that can be a job for people like Meulin and Harley. He does, however, notice new houses as he passes them by, and today there's one on his regular walking route. He takes note of the name on the mailbox - Beauregard, good lord - and is all set to continue ambling onwards when a flash of movement catches his eye. Is that--

-- yes. That absolutely is his cat, leaping up onto the windowsill and slipping in through the open window.

With a sigh, he turns and heads towards the door instead, giving it a firm knock.]

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Haven't met her yet, no. But she sounds great. Anybody that can tame a fucking raccoon has to be some sort of wizard.

[ Lady is really insistent on climbing up Beau, which makes her wince, but she doesn't mind that much. ]

... D'you wanna come in or. [ she says, vaguely awkward. ]

Yeah, sure, all right.

[He's pretty sure she's offering more out of politeness than because she actually wants company - but fuck it, she's interesting, and he's completely okay with taking advantage of her reluctant hospitality.]

Is Lady also invited?

[He gestures to the cat, making it clearer who he means.]

[ She doesn't hate the company. She also knows she herself isn't exactly good company at the moment, but it's not like she's going to pretend for this random guy. He can deal, she thinks. ]

I think Lady already decided where she's invited. [ Beau says, vaguely amused. But she heads back into the house, and flops down on the couch. Picks a little at her bandages. ]

How long have you been here for? [ Pause. ] Please tell me that Gwen lady wasn't lying to me and you actually don't do trials here.

[He shuffles after her, choosing a chair, if there is one available.]

Define "trial" for me.

[ there's a few! there's space for seven people to sit down in this living room, specifically. ]

There's a lockdown on Thursday nights at eleven. Someone gets murdered. Saturday we spend the whole fucking day trying to figure out who killed the people who got murdered. [ ... god, she wants alcohol. ] Sometimes there's one body. Sometimes there's multiple.

[He snorts, though he doesn't look shocked or horrified by the description.]

Fuck's sake-- no, no; nothing like that. Three years I've been here, and no.

[ she lets out a slow sigh, kneading at her eyes with the heels of her palms. ]

Cool, great, because I've been doing that every week for about three months and I'm pretty fucking sick of it. [ a bit angrily: ] I was supposed to go home this time.

Edited 2020-08-07 04:28 (UTC)

Well, you're in luck.

[He says, leaning forward a little, hands clasped together.]

This is the best place for that. Have you spoken to the young god in charge? Do they still give out letters on arrival?

Uh - yeah. I saw the letter, I haven't talked to them.

[ almost petulantly: ] I'm sick of hosts. This is the fucking third time, I'm so done.

[Alfie raises an eyebrow.]

Hosts?

Yeah, like - fuck, uh. Not the people in charge, but the people who had to run the trials for us. It was the sisters in the first one, and the directors in the second.

They weren't the ones who put us there, though.

And who were the ones who put you there?

The first one was a fucking sentient murder house. The second was sentient misery.

Sentient misery. Now, that's a new one. Not a god of misery?

No, like - it was an egg, and it brought us from the ends of our first fucking... murder game. [ she spits the term out. ] And it needed misery to hatch, so it made us do the murder thing again.

[ she glances away. ] But it was misery. Some creature made of it.

[Alfie squints, scorn and distain plain on his face, though it's not directed at her. He believes her, but he has a low tolerance for godly shenanigans, and this definitely fits that category.]

And when it hatched?

[ a long and heavy sigh. ]

It threw itself a birthday party.

And yet you expected to be sent home. How did that happen?

Because we gave it presents. [ she's not joking, they were forced to throw this thing a birthday party. ] I gave it weed and free passage to my world. Someone else gave it a pasta pass, and another person gave them a computer with the internet on it.

[ she says this like she's not sure what the internet is, but. ]

It was happy with that, so it let us go.

[Alfie only has the barest understanding of the internet himself, but. That's not where his interest goes here.]

Free passage to your world.

[Girl, why would you ever do that.]

Yeah. Because it's not stronger than the fucking gods, so if it tries to cause trouble, they can just smite it.

[ shrug. ]

Mmmm. And now here you are.

[He studies her, making no effort to hide that that's what he's doing.]

Going home is easier now than it used to be. We've got our own portal.

[ she - watches him in return, after a moment. ]

Yeah? And how do I know that fucking portal isn't going to yeet me into another murder game?

[what the fuck does yeet mean, BEAU]

I use it to go to my world on a weekly basis.

[Though uh. His London is at least a little bit of a murder game.]

[ she just learned this one!! she has learned many things from many modern worlds. ]

The last place I was in dragged me in because I had misery residuals on me. I'm not fucking taking the chance until I'm sure I'm going home.

[ which kills her, really. her friends. :c ]