forum Beneath the Heavens Lies Cruelty and Hardship… But Here I Almost Feel Safe. (Closed 1/1) Stalkers welcome

Started August 08, 2023 by @Morals-are-for-mortals language

tune

(woops, sorry for the delay, I got tied up with work.)

Qeen nodded, that certainly made things easier. She let Tseth lead their staggering gait, supporting him as best as she could. Her eyes keep flicking to the prisoners, some watching them, others letting their heads hang down, the smell of suffering thick in the air. She clicks her tongue in disapproval. Making a split second decision, Qeen gently nudges Tseth to go right, leaving him to lean up against the wall by himself for a second.

She approaches one of the cells holding a prisoner that at least looked at her. The ragged man had a full beard, and his eyes were dark, but still had a hint of a spark in them, not fully hopeless.

Qeen lowers her voice to a whisper, pulling out the same ration from before, passing it through the cell to give to him.

"Anyone comes down this hall, please make a noise. Scream, yell, just a loud word would do." She requested, rounding her eyes to look sincere in her request. She didn't get a response, but the man shuffled over to grab the bread, eating it quickly and without a word. Like a caged animal.

Qeen didn't know if he would. She wasn't counting on it. But it was something to at least attempt to cover some bases, which made her feel slightly better about this mess of a situation.

She returned to Tseth, silently helping him up again, letting him lead with a sobered expression.

(No worries!)

Tseth rested against he wall and watched Qeen, quickly catching on to what she was doing. But… he didn't exactly agree with it. She might be unaware of the fact right now, but she was sentencing that man to death. Anything that caused a minor annoyance–let alone a ruckus–was severely punished. That is why all these prisoners were in such terrible shape.

Once they reached the wooden door to exit the holding cells, Tseth reached for the door handle. He silently cursed himself while doing so. Did every small task have to be accompanied by some sort of pain? He could only imagine how much there would be if he tried to fly. He narrowed his eyes as his train of thought continued.

And then he realized that he probably shouldn't be glaring at the closed door and actually open it. He turned he handle and pushed the door open a crack. Just enough to see if anyone was out there. There wasn't.

Qeen lets out a relieved breath as they get into the hallway unchallenged. The hallway is familiar as she was just out here a few moments ago, poking her nose where it didn't belong. She was only here visiting anyways. Qeen had wanted to see if she could get some information from the Manta Palace about a personal hobby. A book, a teacher, anything really. One thing had led to another, and now she was smuggling out what looked like a dangerous political prisoner. Huh. Life really was pandemonium.

Qeen picks up their pace slightly as they get into the dimly lit hallway, she still lets him lead, but she nudges him to move just a bit faster.

The silence was thick and each noise made Qeen's yellow eyes fly to the source, her expression jumpy even if she didn't physically react. Despite the need for secrecy, the damned questions began to claw at the base of her brain again. The cloaked woman keeps her voice low, but she clears her throat, clearly intending to speak.

"So…" Qeen trails off, the cousin of a shit-eating grin on her face. "You get out often?"

She chuckles softly to herself, doing things in halves was boring. Maybe teasing the wounded man was punching down. But at this point, she was 85% sure she was doing him a favor. If he needed a crutch, he could deal with Qeen being a pest.

Tseth was equally as jumpy as Qeen, maybe even more so. His red eyes scanned the halls for any movement, any reds or oranges that would indicate the presence of someone else in the hall with them. He was reliant on his heat-seeking abilities at the moment.

He glanced down at Qeen, his expression making it possible to practically read his thoughts. But he didn't say any of them.

Tseth did, however, quite suddenly stop at a door on the right side of the hall. It was a bit different from the last two, with carvings etched into it. It looked like there were some moving parts to the carvings, likely a sort of puzzle. It just depends on what kind. Doors like these were only used to keep things secret. Or if you just wanted to show off your wealth, Tseth thought. He examined the door, brow furrowed in concentration as he recalled how it was opened the first time he saw it.

Qeen was startled by the sudden stopping, Tseth's weight making her stop as well with a soft grunt. She turned to follow his gaze, eyes landing on the ornate door. Her first, immediate, reaction was a thrill of excitement. A puzzle! Those were fun, a great time-consumer, and… ah. Time consuming. Crap.

Qeen sucks on her teeth in thought, inhaling air in a light hissing noise. Her free arm that isn't supporting the wounded man reaches out to try and touch the carvings, to get a feel of the details under her fingertips, to feel the grain of the wood.

But she holds back, hesitating briefly. Calm, careful, caution.

Qeen looks at Tseth, carefully arching one eyebrow in an expectant expression.

"This is your stop? I don't think we're invited."

This was where all the prisoners wings and capes were kept, safeguarded by the puzzle door. It wasn't a particularly difficult one, but it was a bit more than just solving the puzzle to open it.

Tseth glanced down at Qeen. "Easier than it looks…" Well, maybe not. He had seen it solved before, if just for a moment. But looking more, among the detailed carvings hid representations of each elder of the realms. So if Tseth remembered correctly…

He took another glance down the hallway before he reached to touch the first depiction. Daleth, elder of the Isles. When it was touched, the eyes of the depiction woke with a white glow. Tseth quickly retracted his hand, momentarily startled by it. It's just light magic. Nothing else. He hesitated for a moment before doing the rest, eyes darting across the carvings as they were touched. Ayin, Teth, Samekh, Tsadi, Lamed- A silent chant in he back of his mind as he solved it.

Once they were all activated, Tseth looked a little proud of himself. But he wasn't done yet. He said a small saying in a different language. It sounded like Manta. Surprisingly fluent as well, of which one wouldn't expect from a man who had presumably always been a Dark Dragon. It seems there was more to be uncovered about Tseth now than there was before.

All of the carvings in the door lit up with the same white glow, illuminating the intricate patterns. It was almost a bit over-the-top for what the door held behind it, but then again this was the palace of the Mantas. The Royal Family had always shown off their wealth and power, and the current Queen was no exception.

Qeen watched with wide, fascinated eyes. This kind of thing was right up her alley. It scratched a specific itch in her brain that she didn't even know she had. A puzzle, mixed with history, lights, much too much dramatics, and needing to speak another language to enter? What strange heaven was this?

Despite the nearly overwhelming desire to stop and study the door, Qeen contents herself with slowly and deliberately blinking, memorizing the pattern and at least the phonetics of the words in case she ever needed it later, safely tucking the information away into her brain. She longed to study the intricate carvings more, but a much more tantalizing subject for study was starting to open itself.

Tseth himself.

The woman hums once in admiration, head tilting in acknowledgement.

"Very impressive. Let's go collect your prize, shall we?"

The inside of the room held the prisoners cloaks and capes, each one presumably taken from its unwilling host. Qeen surveys them, trying to ignore the slight twist in her stomach at the thought. Now wasn't the time for empathy, or nausea. Particularly nausea. Qeen presses the pressure point on the webbing in between her thumb and pointer finger, feeling slightly less ill.

After taking a second to recollect herself, she nods at Tseth, spreading out her arms to motion at the whole room, her cloak rippling to show her formal clothes underneath, and the black tattoos down her arm.

"Your prize."

Tseth watched as the door opened and slid back to reveal the array of capes and wings decorating the walls. He didn’t take long to observe all of them. They needed to get out of here quickly.

He let go of Qeen to lean on the wall for support. He had gained a small amount of strength already, likely able to use the wall as a support while he walked now. He felt somewhat guilty for having to use Qeen as essentially a crutch. Especially since they just met not that long ago.

Tseth watched as she spread her arms, taking a moment to observe the various details of both her and her clothing. He was curious about the tattoos, but didn’t ask about them.

And then he returned his gaze to the mounted wings, searching for his own. He spotted the familiar black spines poking out near the end, and starting walking towards them. For some reason, though, Tseth made an effort to glance behind him every few seconds. But once he got near his wings, he quickly snatched them from the wall and connected them to himself.
His back-spikes flexed experimentally and his wings stretched out. Despite his current state, getting his wings had given him an air of intimidation. Perhaps it was just because he was a Dark Dragon.

Tseth turned back to Qeen. He already looked the slightest bit more comfortable with his wings back.

And now, they needed to escape the palace itself.

Qeen squares her shoulders unconsciously as Tseth reconnects with his wings. She's not even intimidated, she logically knows how wounded the man is, that he technically needed her help, but there was just something primal that made her want to take a step back. Qeen shakes off the prickling feeling and stands her ground. She smiles at him, hoping that to be the right response to this.

It was only a matter of time until it was discovered Tseth was missing. And even less time for someone to realize he wasn't alone. An injured person could only make it so far on their own.

Qeen's fingers twitched as she felt a pang of uncertainty. Was it her responsibility to get this man all the way out? She'd already helped him this far. He stood a much better chance with his wings now safely back in his possession. The risk vs. reward was murky at best.

She runs her fingers along the edge of one of the mounted wings, looking merely pondering. She had a calm, neutral expression, even as her eyes flashed with thought. The layout of the palace was foreign to her, Qeen hadn't had a chance to look for or study floor plans before she'd come. It had been a small visit, not a heist.

Qeen could remember her path up to the prisoners cells perfectly, all the way up to the way the air brushed past her and the swirl of the dust in the murky air. But that was a fraction of the actual palace, the opulence display was clear.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Qeen glances at the tall, dark figure.

"I'll go out on a limb and say you've been here longer than me. What's the plan, princess?"

Tseth thought for a second, evaluating their options. They could go back to Wasteland, but neither of them would survive when he’s like this… and she likely wouldn’t be fond of that idea. Too many risks, and no reward on her part. Tseth knew that most people would need more than just the feeling of doing the right thing.

There was also the option of hiding out somewhere in the Snowy Mountains. But where? He would have to figure that out later. He was thinking far ahead. Right now, they just needed to get out of the palace. Without being seen by any guards. Well, the best way is the quickest way, which is also the worst way. But he has done more dangerous things. This will just add to the list and reinforce the reputation of Krill for being outright crazy.

There was a little gleam in his eye when he looked up at Qeen again. “Break a window, jump out. We just need to get to one.” Straightforward, simple, and insane due to the fact that he likely couldn’t fly for very long with his injuries.

Tseth guessed she was hoping for some detailed escape plan. He wasn’t ever given a tour of the palace himself. When he wasn’t a prisoner here he rarely came for visits. In fact it was pretty illegal for a Krill to be in this realm unless invited by the ruling government. He only remembered what sections he was brought through, and through half of them he was clawing up the soldiers who were bringing him here.

Qeen laughs at first, amused by the suggestion. She was still faced away, staring at the wings mounted on the wall. Butterfly wings, with delicate marbling's in the color, quite beautiful if taken out of context of them being here.

She turns to look at him, ready to brainstorm serious suggestions, when she catches Tseth's eyes. And realizes he's serious.

Qeen's brain does a little double take, glitching for a second. So much could go wrong with that. WHat-

She's left kind of staring into the middle distance with a haunted expression, calculating all the numerous and probably very explosive ways they could hit the ground with creative velocities.

Her neutral expression cracks and she just regards him with a half baffled look, noticing the gleam in his eyes.

"Fuck. Okay?"

Qeen's voice for the first time loses it's polite, if teasing quality. It's genuine and so, so confused, but relenting? She's here. So.. Okay. That's what they're doing.

Tseth regarded Qeens reaction with a small chuckle. That was the first time had laughed in… months? Yeah, that seemed right. “What? Is that cloak just for decoration?” Now, it was his time to tease her.

With any luck, the fall would be softened by both the snow and if they controlled their speed with their respective flying appendages. Granted, speedy and steep landings weren’t most other species field of expertise. Maybe Tseth didn’t take that into account.

He limped back over to Qeen’s side, still using the wall as a bit of support. But the dizziness had subsided a while ago. All that was holding him back was the extreme pain—and the fact that he didn’t actually have that much energy at all from starving himself. He could push through and deal with the consequences later.

Qeen resumed her place by his side, helping him to remain standing. They did not have all the time in the world. Several factors were cutting away at their available escape time actually. It was a precious commodity.

She cracks a small smile, trying not to let her nerves show.

"It's not. But jumping from windows isn't a preferred hobby of mine."

Qeen hesitates, then steels her resolve, and pushes aside all the little warning bells in her brain that were yelling at her.

"But I suppose today might as well be the day I start, eh?"

Flying was a hobby of Qeen's, but she didn't particularly think of herself as a thrill seeker. Safe and efficient were her keywords when flying. So this was definitely a step out of her usual comfort zone. If she reframed it as a learning experience in her mind, perhaps her cortisol levels would go down. Hopefully.

Tseth nods in approval at Qeens response. While Qeen may not be a thrill seeker, Tseth most definitely was. Or, he used to be. A bit of his old personality was shining through right now. And that side of him would do things like this for fun.

But well, now that they were going with that plan, Tseth realized that he actually didn’t know where the nearest window was. He could remember the secret password to a magic door but he couldn’t remember that. Figures. But it was a palace, so there were sure to be some fancy windows looking out over the snowy landscape.

The two of them made their way down to the end of the hall, Tseth looking down the two options of where they could go next. He was also cautiously searching for any other people walking through. They couldn’t take any chances if someone rounded the corner.

If Qeen were to look at him again, she would notice the change of his eyes. They had gone from a deep crimson, to a light blue. It wasn’t uncommon for those of his species to be able to do that, but what had prompted the change on his part was a mystery. Perhaps despite the situation he had already had lost a bit of uneasiness.

Tseth made an educated guess and turned to the left. He observed the various decorations of the hall, which for the most part kept up a similar theme of white and gold detailing. Long dark blue curtains hung from the ceiling, their purpose for being there unknown other than simply adding to the feel of the place. The castle was lit with white fire torches and chandeliers, their flickering flames almost constantly burning.

Qeen honestly felt right at home in the palace. She practically blended into the environment, dressed as she was in her white, silver, and gold. It just made Tseth stand out all the more however. With his dark wings, and curious, curious eyes.

Even the temperature was nice, with the lit flames a delicious contrast to the snow outside. She made a mental note to try to come back here one day and see if she could get a tour. If she could come back here one day that is.

Ignoring the stress, this was a lovely stroll through a beautiful palace with a delightfully curious new friend. All in all, a positive way to spend an afternoon.

They'd even be able to top it all off with a potentially deadly and quite possibly pressure chase through the snowy mountains. How lovely.

Qeen's fingers get twitchy again as she wishes she didn't leave her spear behind at home. It hadn't seemed necessary. Well let that be a learning experience, hm?

"Do you know where we're going?" She hisses under her breath to Tseth, not liking the uncertainty in their strides.

(I see you have been struck with the Teeth autocorrect, ‘twas a matter of time.)

Tseth winced at Qeen’s sudden change of tone, his posture visibly more rigid. He glanced at her and then back down the hallway. “No.” Paranoia.

If she wanted to take the lead, he would be more than happy to oblige. She likely had a better knowledge of the place than he did. He didn’t know the palace. He just wanted to get out of here as fast as possible, before someone he really never wanted to see again came after the two of them. And if he did, neither Tseth nor Qeen would get out of this alive.

Another, less pressing reason why he wanted to get out of the grand building was just that. It was too grand. Mazes of hallways and flashy displays. It was all so bright. Literally. It gave him a bleeding headache that made him want to claw his eyes out. Perhaps he should refrain from looking around too much.

(Sorry! I've been sick the past few days and am only coherent enough to make sentences now. I'll just pretend I crawled away to my cave in shame at Teeth)

Qeen breathes out in slight exasperation at the answer she already knew, but received anyways. She considered for a moment leaving him tucked away in a corner somewhere while she could go scout ahead. Would that be practical?

Maybe. Safer for her, definitely, but perhaps not for Tseth. Damn it all.

Qeen settled for increasing their pace again, frustrated by their lack of progress.

How hard was it to find one window at a suitable angle to jump out of? Apparently, quite difficult, when mixed in with halls of marble and crystal. Her father would go mad with joy here. Perhaps she'd have to take him here one day and listen to the old man ramble on about architecture.

The woman winces at the sound of their feet shuffling, her own boots making light clicking sounds on the floor. She urges the two of them to turn left, staring down yet another corridor. The curtains might be a good sign?

(Oh no! I’m sorry, hope you’re doing alright. If you need a break just lmk. And also, I have to say that Tseth has a lot of nicknames from autocorrect and misspellings. We call that one “Mr. Teeth.”)
(On another note, I’m back home so my responses will be a little more frequent.)

Tseth squinted down the next hallway they turned. It was significantly colder down this way. He didn’t need thermal sight to tell that much. He used to live in this realm before Wasteland, he knew cold well.

But the cold was a good sign. It meant that something was barring the efficiency of the insulation here in this hall. And that meant windows. Tseth felt a flash of excitement. They could get out of here. He could get out of here.

And all the better, because he could practically sense Qeens frustration. It was probably because of him. In this state he was practically an injured wild animal that she had decided to take in out of pity. Was that her motivation, he thought? He sighed and decided to leave that line of thinking for another time.

Tseth motioned to go towards the curtains, swiftly pulling back one of the silk navy blue curtains with prejudice once they got close enough. And to their luck, there was a window behind it. A large window with thin iron bars supporting it throughout and making an elaborate swirling design at the very top. But against the grey, cloudy skies that threatened another snowstorm the iron bars looked more imposing than a work of art.

The individual window segments closer to the floor were more than large enough for Tseth and Qeen to escape through. Someone just had to shatter the glass, then they’d have to jump out and land on the ground without making a mistake. Easy.

(I'm doing much better, thank you! Glad you made it back safely!)

Qeen physically felt her shoulders relax at the sight of the sky. The cold metal of the window just accenting the dark grey of the sky. A familiar sight for someone born and raised in the mountains. Snow was a comforting sight to her. The little flurries of snowflakes, taken along by a stray gust of wind dancing and pressing up against the glass, trying to let the cold in.

Snow was calm, in predictable, even, and unbroken sheets of white across the ground. Who wouldn't be more relaxed after staring across an empty field of sheer blankness?

Qeen placed her hand on the window, feeling the immediate chill in her fingertips, sapping away her heat. She pulls away a fraction, just enough to let her tap her fingernails against the glass, hearing the sound it made and approximating thickness and strength from that. It was good glass, but it would be impractical to have thick panes in every window of every part of the palace. Much easier, and cheaper to instead do thinner glass and structure it with metal, along with opening more avenues for artistic embellishment.

They could break this. They could break this

Qeen's neutral, but annoyed face, breaks into a grin, and she tilts her head up to look at Tseth.

"Up for an early parole? It's a beautiful day for it."