Prince Jalan Kendeth | The Red Queen's War (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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nexus_sages2016-10-04 11:21 pm
theredprince) wrote in nexus_sages2016-10-04 11:21 pm
Entry tags:
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.
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.
no subject
*She quirks a brow, bemused. She lets him know with a look that she sees through his ruse, but she'll indulge him--if only because leaving someone hungry when they're within smelling-distance of the Harp's food is cruel to a degree even she wouldn't practice on a stranger.*
Following my lead? You're braver than I thought. Alright.
*She never took up her own menu, never needed to. She's apparently enough of a regular to bring one of the waitstaff over with a discreet signal.*
Start him with the onion soup, and I'll have the snails in Saerloonian Topaz. We'll each have a sautéed filet of beef with green pepper, the grilled asparagus and slithercress. I'll have an akh, and plenty of water for him.
*The waiter bobs in confirmation and moves off, leaving Samus' attention free to return to the young prince.*
So. Now that your meal's on the way, I hope you're ready to sing for it.