nexus_sages | enter a lost prince

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enter a lost prince

Jalan had been through Hel. No literally. He'd walked through actual Hel and it honestly was one of the worst experiences of his life. Far less fire and brimstone then he thought though. It was mostly just a vast endless gray desert. Filled with, of course, countless abominations that wouldn't be out of place in the deepest dankest of nightmares. Which was why he was so very incredibly thrilled to discover there was actually an Exit. An exit that would take you anywhere you thought of when you opened it. Unless you weren't thinking of a 'where'. Then it just dumped you kinda... wherever. And Jalan wasn't really thinking about anything besides outrunning the terrifying lady demon who seemed rather keen on tearing off his delicate bits.

So he really didn't care very much where he ended up as he tumbled through the door. He spun around to slam the door shut, a magical black key clutched in his hand ready to lock it up tight so Little Miss Hellspawn couldn't eat his soul... only to discover there was no door. He looked around in confusion but ended up breathing a sigh of relief. His key was on a chain so he slipped it back around his neck as he got a good look around.

Didn't recognize anything one bit. But he wasn't really concerned. Honestly he was just grateful that he was alive and not in Hel, and there were no undead monstrosities looking at him with hungry eyes.

He was a little concerned when he read the brochure. The food wasn't safe? What about the water? He hadn't had a sip since he started traipsing about the Afterlife and he was beyond thirsty. And starving. Honestly he was just a complete mess right now. Even his garb, which normally might make a Lord of the Rings cosplayer green with envy, was covered in dust, dried blood, and torn beyond repair.

"Pardon me," Lost, alone, and on the verge of dehydration, the prince put on his best, most charming of smiles and waved to the closest person, "I've read the food and drink here could be dangerous. Any chance you can lead me to something safe? A change of clothes too... these have. Had it I think."

Plus he felt as if he was sticking out like a sore thumb. Most of the people here... well they weren't dressed like him really. In fact a lot of them reminded him of the little he'd seen of the ancient Builder's culture. Weird.

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[Ooh, it's always fun when people recognize her! :D ngl having a little cognitive dissonance seeing Louis' face on a different character.]

It's amazing how much a person can think in such a short span. It's the politeness that gets her attention. Such a rare thing for a Manhattan girl like her (even in a world with Captain America there to remind everyone about their fucking language.) When Ver turns she looks the newcomer over quickly, taking in a number of details. Pertinent ones, to her thinking: the blood, the former quality of his clothes, and the cut thereof. It was bad enough when people showed up by falling out of the sky. Now they're showing up dead. It's not a great progression and it's starting to worry her.

For her part, Verity is as she is meant to be: brightly-colored and observing from a distance. Her hair is halfway restrained with braids and most of her tattoos are covered by the sleeves of her sweater. She smiles a little more easily these days, but the frown lines are still there. But her looks are just as sharp, and it's safe to assume the remarks will be too.

The newcomer's requests are reasonable and he seems calm. That's a good place to start. Still, all that blood... "Er, are you hurt? That might be the place to start."

[ ooc: haha sorry. He's just absolutely perfect for Jalan with his face and expressions and costumes. ]

"Hurt?" he winced and laughed a little, "Most of this isn't mine.. probably. Got into a tangle with a lichkin earlier. And then a demon just a little bit ago. Just a few cuts here and there. Certainly nothing to be concerned over."

Which he should probably clean up soon. Who even new WHAT that dust in the drylands was made up of? He really didn't want to dwell on it all that much. No right now pressing most urgently in his mind was sitting down. Preferably with about a thousand bottles of wine but he'll take some water and something good to eat for now.

[It's okay, he's a handsome actor with great expressions and I can't begrudge you that. I just recently finished binge-watching all the seasons on Netflix so it's very much in my thoughts right now ya know?]

"Oh, well, if that's all." If he's got a thing for eyebrows, boy, is he in for a treat. She can do magical things with her eyebrows. Two things at once, even: look skeptical and get a bottle of water from her bag. (Okay, that second part is with her hands, but still.) She cracks the seal before handing it to him.

"C'mon, I know a place. It's not far, just down the road here." She nods to one of the many paths winding between the buildings. "The food's good and always safe, they're scrupulous about their sources."

Hey! Enough with the browmagic. He really DID fight a Litchkin. He even stabbed it with his handy magical sword. And there WAS a demon. He just did more running and screaming away from it then fighting. It had rather big teeth you really couldn't blame him given the situation.

"Just a day in the life of a heroic prince," he waves a hand like it's no big thing. Though he's more of a prince who's accidentally heroic more often then strait up. It's definitely the results that count!

"You seem like a lady of impeccable taste so I'll trust your judgement on it," he replied. Honestly he'd be happy with most anything as long as it wasn't jerky or other gross dry travel food.

He stared oddly at the water bottle once he had it in his hand, and gave her a questioning glance before he took a swig, draining half the thing in a single gulp.

"Haaaah... that's good. Probably the dehydration talking but that's the best damn water I've ever had," he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and took a moment to study the bottle again, "Are your sure you should be giving a plasteek bottle in such good condition to a complete stranger though?"

He's not really in a position to make those kinds of demands. Really, he should be grateful she's not the sort of woman who shaves off her natural eyebrows and paints on even more dramatic ones. Anyway, she believes him. The true parts. Litchkin and demons are hardly the weirdest things she's heard of (or seen). But even her skepticism isn't so finely aimed as to make it clear her issue's with his apparent lack of concern about the blood and how much might have been his own.

"A heroic prince, hmm?" Okay, that skepticism might be a little better aimed. She's got funny ideas about what being a hero entails. But it falters in the face of his easy acceptance of her judgment. Irony, that she'll spare people who probably need more of it for such little kindnesses. "Thank you."

His obvious enjoyment and gratitude makes the corners of her mouth curl up briefly. "You're welcome. The bottles aren't rare here, so don't worry about that. You have plastic where you come from?"

If he was injured severely he would have never escaped Hel. He would have been ripped to tiny bits and bobs. Hence why his biggest concern? Whether or not he can drink his weight in wine after getting something to eat and cleaned up.

"Yes, not much though. The secret to making it was lost long ago," he drained the other half of the bottle. It made a world of difference, he felt a hundred times better already, "You can find little broken things often enough, but full things? Not really. A few years back I found these things, the Builders apparently called them 'shades'? Tinted plasteek ovals in a frame, they went over your eyes like so," he held his hands over his eyes in demonstration, "Dimmed the bright sun. I lost them in a bet though and the glassmaker I went to never could make a pair quite right."

Yes the medieval prince is talking about wearing a sweet pair of sunglasses. He thought they looked good on him too. And he liked looking good. Plus they made horse rides so much more pleasant. He'd been crushed when he had to go back to squinting.

That's very likely true. But people can ride a wave of adrenaline through all sorts of circumstances only to collapse when they're finally safe. And there's the very real chance he could already be dead, but she hasn't figured out a polite way to ask that yet, so a more roundabout questioning of how one is feeling will have to suffice to prompt a little self-reflection. At least, until she figures out a better way to handle these things.

Verity watches his pantomime of sunglasses with amusement before adjusting her glasses. "Sunglasses. Or shades, yeah, we have those too. I'm sure we can find you another pair you'll like."

They could get him all sorts of plastic things. Even plastic clothes. But they've reached The Harp of the Stars and food is more of a priority right now, she's guessing. Don't worry, none of the food is plastic. It's a nice little fusion French-Torilian cafe where everything smells good and most of it even looks like food. The patio seating is charming with its little tables and view of the parklands, but she opts for a table inside and sinks into one of the leather seats with the ease of a regular. "How long has it been since you've eaten?"

The waiter, who might be a centaur of some goaty kind, brings Jalan a menu and Verity a greeting. Yup, definitely a regular.

He looked visibly brightened when she mentioned shades were, in fact, available. Truly the best news he's heard in... a very long time. To be honest he couldn't remember when the last time was that someone actually told him something to be excited about. Of course he was significantly more excited about the prospect of getting something to eat.

"How long?" he echoed as he slid into the seat opposite her. He looked worried, like he hadn't really thought about the question until she asked, "Since before I walked through the door to Hel. That's where I was moments before I stumbled into you. You can't eat anything there or you'll never be able to leave again. And time... it passes oddly there."

He couldn't suppress a shudder as he accepted the menu from the waiter (and tried not to gawk)

He should be careful with that, she doesn't have her sunglasses on! (Bad jokes are the best jokes.) Still, the excitement is cute. She easily grows fond of cute things. Poor boy has no idea what he's in for. With her, or with the meal. Maybe she'll be nice and not order anything too weird.

"Let's assume it's been a while." Her eyes narrow slightly at his shuddering, because rude, but she's got a smile--for the waiter, when she turns to him. "A cup of bone broth for him while he decides, and an akhaccino for me, please." There's a little teasing from the waiter about her going so easy on this one, which gets a smirk aimed at his departing back.

Jalan's still getting to make some decisions, so he shouldn't complain. The menu is varied and extensive, so his problem is less likely to be finding something that sounds good and more that he has to narrow it down to what he can conceivably eat in this sitting. He can take his time, Verity looks content to people-watch while she waits. Her eyes dart through the crowd at regular intervals, expecting something but never surprised it isn't there.

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enter a lost prince

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I have assumed walking I hope that's okay. To make amends: http://bit.ly/2cZKN1g

looks just like him!

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