Callisto (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
myfavoritemurder) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
apocalypsehowcomm2021-11-13 11:25 am
myfavoritemurder) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2021-11-13 11:25 am
[LOG] I don't need a new love or a new life [OPEN]
Who: Callisto AND YOU
When: Mid-November
Where: Various places around town!
Summary: A feral warlord arrives in town and is about to make that everybody else's problem.
Warnings: N/A at the moment; will edit if that changes
A; ARRIVAL; OTA
[Callisto pops up in what she imagines to be some sort of shrine. It's unadorned and impersonal, giving her no hint about what god it's dedicated to, but there are basins to place offerings in and segregated booths for private contemplation, so she's pretty sure her initial guess is right on the money. For a long moment, she's still: her hand braced against the wall, and her eyes squeezed shut against the harsh bright light. Her head swims. Her legs nearly buckle.
But then she pushes through it. Despite the weakness and disorientation, she pushes off the wall and spins for the door, one hand on the hilt of the dagger in her belt. She's dressed head to toe in leather armor, wearing a sword strapped to her back, and to say she looks out of place would be an understatement - but there's no hint of self-consciousness to her as she strides down the hall, boots clicking on the hard floor.]
Who are you?
[She snaps at the first person she sees - though she is, of course, still speaking Ancient Greek by this point.]
What have you done with me?
B; ADJUSTMENTS; OTA
[The next several hours are an absolute whirlwind, and one that's more exhausting than energizing. Believing everything she's told, at least, isn't a problem: for a woman who comes from a world filled to the brim with gods and magic, ADI's explanation sounds perfectly reasonable to her. Being recruited, however, is a little more hairy. "Sure, I'll help you with your little apocalypse problem," she says to the ADI rep who does her intake. "But you'll have to do some things for me in return." And when they don't immediately promise to harness their considerable power and technology to help her destroy Xena, she balks. Hard.
It takes time, but a tentative agreement is reached. ADI might be unnecessarily squeamish about the idea of aiding and abetting her vengeance plans, but they do seem to be her best shot at returning home, and so she agrees to fight for them - reluctantly, and with strong conviction that she's getting the short end of the stick here, but she's faced down more hopeless-looking situations. She's sure she'll eventually find some way to leverage this one in her favor, too.
But honestly, the big-picture stuff is the easy part. It's the day to day stuff that's disorienting. Powerful, mysterious beings and travel between worlds is far easier for her to wrap her head around than a thin, hard rectangle that everyone insists isn't magic, even though it somehow holds currency and keeps track of her finances for her. And yet it's not long before she sees it in action, because after finishing up with all the preliminary introductions, the very first thing they do is hustle her off to find more "suitable" clothes - an idea that she dismisses as unnecessary only before they leave the building and hit the cold winter air. Others might encounter her on the street outside a clothing store, right after her very first car ride, leaning her forehead against the brick outer wall of the building and waiting for the waves of nausea to pass. Soon after, she can be found inside the clothing store itself, sorting through everything with a perplexed and critical eye. Coaxing her to pick up anything other than a winter coat and some snow pants might be a bit of a struggle.
ADI Housing is next, and after making sure she knows which apartment has been assigned to her, this is where the intake folks finally leave her to find her way on her own. For the next few hours, she just wanders, paying zero mind to the difference between public and private spaces. She investigates the gym and the laundry room (final verdict: complete and utter mysteries), but if anyone is prone to leaving their apartment door unlocked, they might also find her inside, poking through their stuff.
She is, on the whole, on the subdued side of things this evening, skulking around rather than stomping around. She rests in common areas, sitting on the floor, glaring unprompted at anyone who passes by. And when late evening comes and she starts hearing talk of the guards locking the doors soon, she heads for the exit - slipping out, rather than in, before curfew hits. Bundled up in her new coat and ski pants, she aimlessly wanders the downtown streets for a few hours, seeking out nothing in particular, simply getting the lay of the land. Bus stops end up being of particular interest to her, and though she never tries to board a bus herself, she always stops when she sees one coming, watching the passenger disembarkation and embarkation process with a vague sort of interest.]
Where do they go?
[She asks out loud, if there's anyone standing near her.]
What's the farthest anyone has ever traveled on one?
[They too must be magic, she reasons - maybe even mysterious and not well understood, like the forces that brought her here. If she gets on the right one, she wonders, will it whisk her away across worlds?]
C; ROOMMATES; CLOSED TO EMILY DYER
[When she's told that she's being assigned an apartment, Callisto initially dismisses the idea. She has little use for indoor spaces, particularly when it comes to living in them: she hasn't lived in a house since she was a teenager and hasn't felt at home in one since she was a child, and she doesn't see either of those things ever changing.
But once she gets a load of this world's climate, the indoors ends up being a bit more appealing, and she does have some level of curiosity about... well. All of this, honestly. This means that when Emily comes home, she'll find an unfamiliar winter coat and pair of snow pants spread out to dry on the living room floor, and a leather-clad stranger in the apartment kitchen, fiddling with the stove burners. She's got one lit at full blast, and is leaning in close, examining the writing on the control panel.]
Do you use these to cook?
[She asks, by way of greeting.]
When: Mid-November
Where: Various places around town!
Summary: A feral warlord arrives in town and is about to make that everybody else's problem.
Warnings: N/A at the moment; will edit if that changes
A; ARRIVAL; OTA
[Callisto pops up in what she imagines to be some sort of shrine. It's unadorned and impersonal, giving her no hint about what god it's dedicated to, but there are basins to place offerings in and segregated booths for private contemplation, so she's pretty sure her initial guess is right on the money. For a long moment, she's still: her hand braced against the wall, and her eyes squeezed shut against the harsh bright light. Her head swims. Her legs nearly buckle.
But then she pushes through it. Despite the weakness and disorientation, she pushes off the wall and spins for the door, one hand on the hilt of the dagger in her belt. She's dressed head to toe in leather armor, wearing a sword strapped to her back, and to say she looks out of place would be an understatement - but there's no hint of self-consciousness to her as she strides down the hall, boots clicking on the hard floor.]
Who are you?
[She snaps at the first person she sees - though she is, of course, still speaking Ancient Greek by this point.]
What have you done with me?
B; ADJUSTMENTS; OTA
[The next several hours are an absolute whirlwind, and one that's more exhausting than energizing. Believing everything she's told, at least, isn't a problem: for a woman who comes from a world filled to the brim with gods and magic, ADI's explanation sounds perfectly reasonable to her. Being recruited, however, is a little more hairy. "Sure, I'll help you with your little apocalypse problem," she says to the ADI rep who does her intake. "But you'll have to do some things for me in return." And when they don't immediately promise to harness their considerable power and technology to help her destroy Xena, she balks. Hard.
It takes time, but a tentative agreement is reached. ADI might be unnecessarily squeamish about the idea of aiding and abetting her vengeance plans, but they do seem to be her best shot at returning home, and so she agrees to fight for them - reluctantly, and with strong conviction that she's getting the short end of the stick here, but she's faced down more hopeless-looking situations. She's sure she'll eventually find some way to leverage this one in her favor, too.
But honestly, the big-picture stuff is the easy part. It's the day to day stuff that's disorienting. Powerful, mysterious beings and travel between worlds is far easier for her to wrap her head around than a thin, hard rectangle that everyone insists isn't magic, even though it somehow holds currency and keeps track of her finances for her. And yet it's not long before she sees it in action, because after finishing up with all the preliminary introductions, the very first thing they do is hustle her off to find more "suitable" clothes - an idea that she dismisses as unnecessary only before they leave the building and hit the cold winter air. Others might encounter her on the street outside a clothing store, right after her very first car ride, leaning her forehead against the brick outer wall of the building and waiting for the waves of nausea to pass. Soon after, she can be found inside the clothing store itself, sorting through everything with a perplexed and critical eye. Coaxing her to pick up anything other than a winter coat and some snow pants might be a bit of a struggle.
ADI Housing is next, and after making sure she knows which apartment has been assigned to her, this is where the intake folks finally leave her to find her way on her own. For the next few hours, she just wanders, paying zero mind to the difference between public and private spaces. She investigates the gym and the laundry room (final verdict: complete and utter mysteries), but if anyone is prone to leaving their apartment door unlocked, they might also find her inside, poking through their stuff.
She is, on the whole, on the subdued side of things this evening, skulking around rather than stomping around. She rests in common areas, sitting on the floor, glaring unprompted at anyone who passes by. And when late evening comes and she starts hearing talk of the guards locking the doors soon, she heads for the exit - slipping out, rather than in, before curfew hits. Bundled up in her new coat and ski pants, she aimlessly wanders the downtown streets for a few hours, seeking out nothing in particular, simply getting the lay of the land. Bus stops end up being of particular interest to her, and though she never tries to board a bus herself, she always stops when she sees one coming, watching the passenger disembarkation and embarkation process with a vague sort of interest.]
Where do they go?
[She asks out loud, if there's anyone standing near her.]
What's the farthest anyone has ever traveled on one?
[They too must be magic, she reasons - maybe even mysterious and not well understood, like the forces that brought her here. If she gets on the right one, she wonders, will it whisk her away across worlds?]
C; ROOMMATES; CLOSED TO EMILY DYER
[When she's told that she's being assigned an apartment, Callisto initially dismisses the idea. She has little use for indoor spaces, particularly when it comes to living in them: she hasn't lived in a house since she was a teenager and hasn't felt at home in one since she was a child, and she doesn't see either of those things ever changing.
But once she gets a load of this world's climate, the indoors ends up being a bit more appealing, and she does have some level of curiosity about... well. All of this, honestly. This means that when Emily comes home, she'll find an unfamiliar winter coat and pair of snow pants spread out to dry on the living room floor, and a leather-clad stranger in the apartment kitchen, fiddling with the stove burners. She's got one lit at full blast, and is leaning in close, examining the writing on the control panel.]
Do you use these to cook?
[She asks, by way of greeting.]
no subject
Stephen presses the call button; it lights up, and the numbers above the elevator doors change to indicate its upward descent, and eventual arrival.
In the meanwhile, he just looks at her askance. Not much to add when split by that stubborn language barrier. Not awkward at all.]
So.
[Come on, elevator.]
no subject
The doors slide open a few seconds later, and she springs back, shooting Stephen a perplexed look.]
No. You first.
[She says, nodding him forward. Go on, buddy. Prove that you're not trying to get her to blithely walk to her own death here.]
no subject
The idea is to indicate where they’ll be going, preemptively and without startling her. Maybe.
Because he can’t help himself, he has to make a remark, even though the words will mean nothing, echoing in the confines of elevator.]
You’ll be a charades expert by the time we’re done. Who needs words?
no subject
[She mocks lightly, in imitation of what, to her, sounds like babbling nonsense - but she steps into the elevator without any real complaint or further hesitation. She's not a fearful person, nor even a cautious one - and if he is trying to lure him to her death, then he's stuck in here with her, and she has her sword.
She jumps lightly when the chamber starts to move, but it's out of surprise rather than fear, and curiosity continues to reign supreme. Having seen him pressing a button and making the thing start up, she decides to try it out for herself: darting out a hand and pressing a few more at random, in quick succession.]
wails at this
The doors slide closed, the elevator lurches lightly on its way down, and he’s more than happy to stand there patiently until they reach their destination, when—
She starts pressing the elevator buttons to his dismay, which is going to extend their travel time at least tenfold to the basement levels. Each one lights up like a little taunt, laughing at him.]
No, you can’t do that. Stop.
[Instinct dictates that he reaches out to grip at her arm, halting this nonsense. Certainly that’ll go over well.]
a five-year-old with a sword
in which Stephen gets a little grayer
The elevator buttons are forgotten in favor of his apparent offense, and wow she’s definitely striking him clear across the chin with that swipe, rattling his teeth a little.
He steps back, brow furrowed and obviously displeased, but of course the point is taken — no touching.]
No.
[Pointing at the buttons like a man talking to a small child who had nearly touched the stove.]
no subject
What are they, weapons? I only wanted to test what they do.
[And yet, they're still traveling down, rather than up or sideways or whatever else she might have imagined. The cabin slows as it reaches the next level, stops, and the doors pop open; Callisto doesn't try to walk off, but she does lean out, taking a look.]
no subject
Of course, the doors will only oblige if she isn’t sticking her head out, so Stephen taps on the side of the elevator to grab her attention.]
Hey. Back in.
[He gestures with a spread hand at the empty side of the elevator, with a smile that is nothing short of exasperatedly facetious.]
no subject
Aha.
She gives him the most unimpressed look, as if this is all his fault, but then she makes a show of looking from the button panel, to the doors, and then back to the panel again.]
I did this?
[No regrets! She just wants to make sure she's understanding things correctly.]
no subject
Yes.
[The elevator doors slide open. Stephen reaches out to press the button to close them again. It hums and descends. Stops. The doors slide open again.]
You did this.
[If only he could use his magic freely in this universe — they’d be there without having to deal with this absurd tedium.]
no subject
This is ridiculous.
[She comments, trying to convey this by gesturing to the doors (currently standing open), widening her eyes, and shaking her head in bemusement.]
All of this is ridiculous. Whatever god you are, your realm is a mystery.
[This is still the most interesting thing that's happened to her in ages, though, so she's not complaining yet.]
no subject
Oh, you’re sorry? You acted before thinking and regret making our elevator ride a thousand times longer than it should be? Well, it’s okay. We all make mistakes.
[The doors close. The elevator descends. And then, finally, they reach the proper basement floor, B1, where Stephen then steps out for the first time.]
Come on.
[After checking whether or not she’s following, his priority is to find an ADI employee who’ll escort her to a certain piece of paper, fixing this language problem first and foremost.]
no subject
When the doors slide open to another strange, unfamiliar hallway, she does a double take when Stephen actually exits the moving chamber. But she follows at a leisurely pace, still stopping frequently to examine paintings and wall sconces and light switches, only distracted from this when an ADI employee spots them and starts beelining in their direction.]
Oh, goodie.
[Callisto comments, crossing her arms and turning to face the newcomer.]
I'm attracting an entourage. You all really know how to make a girl feel important.
no subject
Talk to you later.
[It's about as much help as he can offer, just a send-off, as they encourage her to follow. Stephen will wait patiently, though, for her return, seeing no need to disappear just yet -- his curiosity (and helpful nature, too, probably) roots him to the spot despite himself.]
no subject
Still, when she's finally led back out into the hallway, they're probably glad to be rid of her.
When she spots Stephen, a brief look of surprise crosses her face; she hadn't expected to see him still standing there.]
Are you one of them?
[She asks, the words still unfamiliar-feeling on her tongue.]
no subject
She doesn't look terribly pleased; etches of frustration on her features, though that's just a fragment of the gamut of emotion so many of them experience upon arrival. At least she hasn't come out with her sword swinging. Stephen considers that a win.]
A part of ADI? [His low tone is much the same even in a language that's parsed, now, but perhaps it's easier to pick up on how wry it sounds despite the seriousness.] No. I went through that process much the same as you when I arrived. Pretty handy little scrap of paper, isn't it?
[Stephen's native tongue is English, so it seems like a moot point -- that is, until one realizes just how many languages might be between them all, those hailing from different universes altogether.]
no subject
[She agrees, her respect grudging but still present. ADI isn't run by or affiliated with gods - they'd made that very clear - but they still possess powers that no mere mortal should be capable of. Callisto is pretty sure that she hates all of them, but this at least makes them interesting.
And, maybe, this man is, too. She takes a step closer, studying him.]
But you chose to work with them. What is your purpose here? What do you do?
[And then without waiting for the answer--]
Oh, and show me the moving room again.
no subject
We'll be returning to the elevator to leave the building, anyway. Walk and talk.
[If she's so eager, then he turns again to lead her back the way they came. He can answer any burning questions on the way.]
I work in the medical department. I'm a doctor, and ADI needs all the help they can get, even from us off-worlders.
[Even though he specialized in something he definitely does not practice today, a medical opinion is still a medical opinion. The fieldwork around here can be dangerous (as is simply existing in this city), so he's kept his hands full.]
I'm cooperating with them because they're our best bet for a few things: understanding the threat to this world, and eventually finding a way back home. Not to mention a means to even live in this world while we're here.
no subject
[She says, touching the hilt of the sword strapped to her back, as if to verify that it's still there. This time, as they walk, she slows at every bit of writing that she finds, no matter how minor or inconsequential: nameplates on paintings, directional signs, the fine print on fire alarms.]
What have you discovered so far, about finding a way back?
no subject
[She’ll either take his advice or learn it the hard way. Stephen sounds assured, regardless, as though spouting off some universal truth.
He watches as she reads every little tidbit on the way, making conversation in-between the investigations.]
Nothing. No luck on any front, from anyone. But ADI is the best way to springboard investigations into the issue. The rest of the world is oblivious to the dangers out there, and to us.
no subject
Watch me.
[She spits, tightening her grip on the sword.]
They brought me here to fight, and fighting is what they'll get. But don't worry - I know how to control myself.
[Sometimes. For a certain value of controlling herself.]
no subject
We’ll see. In the meanwhile, why don’t you tell me about yourself? Your name is familiar, you know.
no subject
People don't ask me that.
[And in truth, she barely knows how to answer. The only things that she cares about aren't really about her.]
I saw my village burned to a crisp when I was young, but I doubt you know my name from that. People don't remember orphaned peasant girls.
[There, that's something about herself. That's totally the sort of answer he was looking for, right?]
no subject
In my world, your name is associated with a myth. And with a certain constellation in the sky.
[Though this is difficult — and though Stephen usually doesn’t mind if his own blunt nature might bring about offense, he thinks it’s best to avoid that much now. Best to pick and choose what to say he thinks he knows.]
This might seem random, but have you ever been turned into a bear?
[nailed it]
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