Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80 
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Aug 26, 2021 14:23:08 GMT -5
It stood to reason, Theodosia supposed, that she shouldn't have expected very much enlightening information from a man so thoroughly shrouded in shadows. It seemed that Gray couldn't speak a single sentence that wasn't twisted with riddles, contorted until the truth was so thoroughly hidden that it may have never been there at all. It was there, though. She trusted the man to know as well as she did that all mysterious half-answers and cryptic suggestions were best built around a grain of truth. That was, after all, the first principle of fortune-telling.
"A successor," she mused. "But not a copy. A difficult balance indeed, Gray. Is that why you're still alive? Trapped in a dying, comatose body simply because your work isn't yet done and you don't remember how to finish it? I wonder what will happen to Nina when you finally breathe your last. Will your bonds become hers, tying her to the tower for the rest of her unnatural life? You've done something monstrous, and you haven't even the courtesy to wake up and see it through yourself. I'll get her out of this, Gray. Just you wait and see."
The man's final, most cryptic advice brought a furrow to her brow as she tried to figure out what he meant. A few minutes in the light...even as she pondered these words, she realized that the light in the tent was quickly fading. Trinkets and tokens hanging from the walls began to vanish in the deep, inky shadows as candles went out one by one, snuffed out by some invisible force. As she glanced around, the smiling man seemed to fade into the darkness. Another form appeared in his stead, looming out of the shadows on feet of burlap and cotton. The doll with the scratched-out eyes advanced on her, wielding a sewing needle the size of a broadsword in one patchwork hand. As Theodosia jumped to her feet and scrambled backwards, the doll spoke, the stitches on its mouth stretching and snapping with each word.
"Good dollies don't talk," it intoned, its voice as dry as rustling leaves. Theodosia froze, recognizing her own words in the doll's mouth. She said the same thing every time she made a doll, whispering it to the little puppets as she stitched the mouths on their faces. Backing up, she quickly found herself trapped against the fabric of the tent once more, staring in horror at the doll as it approached.
"Please," she whispered, trembling and cowering before the point of the needle. "Please don't do thi-"
Her words were cut off by a scream of pain as the doll lunged forward, jabbing the needle into her heart. For a split second, the agony of being impaled made the whole dream-world fall away into nothingness, and she wondered if she really was going to die. This was no ordinary nightmare, after all. As she clutched at the needle embedded in her chest, she stared at the quickly-fading shadow of Gray, the only other thing remaining in this void of pain and swirling mist.
"I'll cut the strings," she gasped, clutching at the needle in a futile effort to pull it out. A moment later, even Gray vanished, along with the needle. Theodosia found herself curled in her nest of pillows, soaked in sweat and tears. She gasped and trembled, trying to remind herself that it had all been just a dream, that the sharp pain she still felt in her chest wasn't real. When she raised a hand to the front of her nightgown, however, she felt a small, cold piece of metal embedded deep in her flesh over her heart. Wincing in pain, she pulled the sewing needle from her breast and stared at it in the dim moonlight coming through her window. A coincidence, she tried to tell herself, struggling to control the rising panic with logical explanations. I must have rolled over it in my sleep. I drop needles all the time.
Still, this attempt at calming herself down didn't help, and she knew she wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight. Sighing, she lit a candle and stepped over to her small work table, tossing the needle aside. A small piece of gauze stopped the bleeding quickly enough, although she noted with some disappointment that the spot of blood had soaked through the front of her nightgown. Sitting down, she took up her sewing supplies and began making a new curse dolly, this time in the likeness of Gray. The familiar routine helped to calm her, and the work helped to quell the trembling of her hands. As she started working on the sooty-black cloak, though, she realized that her scissors were gone. Frowning, she felt around on the table, sure she'd just put them down a moment ago. Hadn't she just used them to cut the thread? Glancing around, she got the sudden sense that something was very wrong. A panicked, impulsive glance at the wall where she hung her dolls brought a scream of terror to her lips as she saw what was happening. One of her dolls, a blue-eyed young man who'd called her a fraud so many years ago, was holding the scissors in both hands and using them to cut down the others. As they fell, they began to twitch and move, rising to their feet with awkward, jerky movements. The blue-eyed doll turned towards her, its button eyes seeming to stare through her as it snapped the scissors shut. Without waiting to see what it was going to do, Theodosia turned and ran, fleeing out the door into the cool night air. She had to get to Nina's house, had to get help. The nightmare, it seemed, had just been the beginning.
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"Nina!" screamed Theodosia, standing ankle-deep in water and staring up at the cylindrical stone walls of the glasshouse. "Nina, wake up! Let me in, I need help! It's about Gray and my dolls and I had a nightmare and they stabbed me and now they're all awake and running around and you really need to let me in! I don't know if they followed me but they'll try to kill me. Where are you, Nina? Wake up!"
She glanced back behind her, panting and trying to catch her breath. The fortune-teller had run all this way in her nightgown, not even taking the time to put on shoes as she'd fled from her house. Ordinarily, she would've been terrified at the thought of anyone seeing her in such a state, but that was the least of her concerns now. Squinting into the darkness, she imagined dozens of little dolls marching across the sand, armed with all manner of sharp implements. She shuddered, then turned back to the side of the glasshouse and smacked her hands against it in frustration.
"Wake up, Nina!" she shouted again, voice tight with fear. "Nina, I need help! I need you to let me in right now!"
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 289
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Aug 28, 2021 16:15:10 GMT -5
Nina was drifting through dreams of her own, skating over water as she explored old ruins, trying to match her breath with the rush of the waves in order to stay afloat. Her first warning that something was amiss came in the shape of a break in the pattern, of a wave that grazed her ankles. Then a wall of water struck against her side, and she was sucked in among the salt spray with a deafening roar. Reaching out for the surface, she felt a wooden ceiling. She clawed at the floor of the Tower, and nearly rolled over from the window-seat where she’d curled to sleep. The tide rippled on the other side of the heavy stone walls.
Her pulse was racing. They had come for her.
She skulked through the room of the Tower, as shadows of poisonous plants brushed against her, finding her way with a familiarity that she had grown to hate, and stumbled over the legs of her comatose mentor to plant her face onto a stained-glass window. Through lavender hydrangea petals, she saw-
“Theodosia?” She whispered.
Her tired mind couldn’t make sense of things. Instead, the girl retreated. Stray thoughts ran through her head, of how she’d ran away weeks before, to avoid being jumped by either the local ruler’s thug or by a bunch of dying cultists. Leaving Theodosia, her closest connection in the village, behind. Vulnerable. She smacked the back of her hand against a bamboo stem and stewed in the sting. What had happened?! Soon, there was the soft thud, as a rope ladder rolled down the side of the stone-and-glass building among the tide pools.
“Come.” She called out from above.
The ladder was little more than a collection of rope loops, often narrow enough that you couldn’t put two hands together. Transversal loops reinforced the rungs. A gibbous moon above illuminated Nina’s tanned figure. The loops were unequal, the traveler having crafted it while her main hand was still in the process of healing, when needed an easier way to get into her house. The girl would help Theodosia as she took the last steps up and onto the glass roof of the tower, directing her to the safety of the metal beams connecting the glass panels.
“Rest your feet on this plank.” She said, pointing to the piece of driftwood that overhung the edge of the conical roof like the brim on a hat. “But keep your weight on the roof.” She gestured sitting down, but didn’t do so herself until Theodosia was safely in place. The other’s state of dress made it painfully obvious how dire the situation was. In the dim light, below, one could see Gray’s glasshouse in all its shadowy beauty, along with its master.
Nina’s arms raised in a forbidding gesture.
“You can’t go in. The wards…” Nina winced, and half-covered a yawn. “They might kill someone. Either you directly, or Gray, by trying to get the energy to kill you.” She mouthed, as the yawn slowly escaped. Though only in socks, she was wearing her trademark blue outfit, it being the only one she had.
Remembering that Theodosia was prone to spontaneous physical contact, Nina tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder, then wrapped and arm around her shoulders.
“Breathe. I’ll protect you. Whatever comes, they have to go through me.” She said.
She was all too aware that the Tower’s magical protections only extended to its inside. That if Alden (or the Angel-touched) arrived with bows, all she could do to help Theodosia was give herself up to whatever they designed for her. Her eyes scanned the rocky shores, but the pursuers she spotted turned out to be rocks. Her mind ran through the last words she’d have like Theodosia to keep for her in case Gray ever woke up. That was funny…It almost felt like the fortuneteller had mentioned him.
Nina raised her palm.
“Wait. Don’t tell me yet. Just breathe.”
She walked up on the tilted glass and disappeared below a trapdoor, sliding down another rope. Moments later, she reemerged, with a familiar grey cloak which she’d try to wrap around Theodosia’s shoulders, and with a warm ceramic mug filled with a warm, honey-like liquid. It was fragrant nectar she’d gathered from the Overgrowth, kept over embers overnight to reduce for storage.
“Now tell me.”
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Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Aug 30, 2021 6:28:31 GMT -5
Glancing over her shoulder into the darkness, Theodosia swore that she could see legions of murderous dolls swarming over the beach. The moonlight illuminated just enough of the sand and tidepools that every shadow seemed to contain a little needle-wielding figure, each an effigy of one who had wronged her before. How many times had she whispered her hatred to the little dolls, never thinking that they'd ever whisper back? How many needles had she jabbed into their soft cloth bodies, not expecting them to return the favor? She shuddered, hugging her arms tightly around herself as the splash of the waves soaked her to the bone with icy spray.
The gentle thump of the rope ladder tumbling down the side of the tower made her jump, but her shock was soon replaced with a sense of relief that nearly drove the imagined dolls from her mind. She scrambled up to the roof, struggling somewhat to navigate the uneven, unfamiliar ladder. She'd never been the most athletic of people, and her trembling hands made slow progress as she clambered up to the top. After several perilous moments, she found herself sitting atop the glass rooftop as Nina explained why she couldn't go inside. She nodded numbly, only letting out a sigh of relief when the rope ladder was pulled up and securely stowed. The thought that merely going inside could be enough to kill her was a sobering one, but even being up on the roof was better than being down there on the beach. No dolls would be able to climb up here...or so she hoped.
"I always wondered why you never invited me to come visit," she murmured, leaning into Nina's rather awkward hug. "It's alright, I don't mind staying up here..."
She fell silent as her friend vanished inside, scanning the beach for any sign of wandering dolls. Seeing none, she waited patiently for Nina's return, shivering in the cold ocean breeze. The cloak around her shoulders and the hot drink were accepted with a grateful smile, and she took an eager sip. The sweet nectar warmed her body, and she found herself feeling at least a little bit better.
"It's my dolls," she whispered, clutching the mug tightly in both hands. "They've come to life. I swear it, I saw them! They've started moving around, and they're going to kill me. Look, one of them stabbed me while I was sleeping with a sewing needle!"
Prodding a finger at her own bust, she pointed out the spot of blood on the front of her seawater-soaked nightgown. The doll really had stabbed her, and not with a small needle either. She hadn't been imagining it, it hadn't just been part of that weird dream. Speaking of the dream...she glanced down at the cloak Nina had put over her shoulders, a sudden chill running through her body. She shook it off with cry of disgust, shivering as though she'd just been wrapped in human skin. Setting down the mug, she scrambled up the side of the rooftop to peer down inside, terrified as to what she might see. Her worse fears came to pass as she recognized the corpse-like figure of the tower's master lying there, exactly as he'd been in her dream. It had been real, then. All of it. Feeling suddenly lightheaded, she slid back down to where Nina sat, throwing her arms around her friend and holding her tight. Theodosia's whole body trembled, and Nina would be able to feel the fortune-teller's rapid heartbeat and fast, shallow breaths.
"It wasn't just the dolls," she whispered, shuddering. "I had a dream last night, Nina. Gray was there. I've never met him, but he was there. It's him, right there. He looked just like that. He got into my dream somehow and...told me things. Something's very wrong, Nina. I'm scared and there's people coming into my dreams and my dolls are coming to life and they stabbed me and Gray said you might become a murderer and I don't know what to do about any of it!"
As she spoke, her voice rose from a frightened whisper to a panicked wail, echoing out over the beach over the crash of the surf beneath. She squeezed Nina in her arms, trying to gain some comfort in her friend's touch and warmth. Not only was she terribly frightened, but she was starting to realize how very cold she was. Oh, how she longed for the comfort of her little next back home...but with the roving horde of murderous dolls, she wasn't sure if she'd ever fell safe and comfortable there again.
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 289
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 1, 2021 10:59:28 GMT -5
It occurred to Nina that it was the same cloak she’d worn when she took Tressor’s life and, while the rejection was understandable, it still hurt. Trauma, she figured. Her fingers clenched on the night-colored fabric before it slipped into the water. It’s not like she had many to spare. She started to raise her hand, struggling to tell Theodosia that it was fine to come back, this area was more stable, she’ll move away, but her throat felt dry and words wouldn’t string together right. Before she could react, the fortuneteller had her wrapped in her arms, and Nina’s world shattered.
“I came back last evening.” Words rung oddly in her ears, as if she were underwater. “First thing I did was flick a spider off his eyeball. I was planning to climb up there tomorrow, get some water for the plants.” She pointed tiredly at the steep dark coastline delineating the beach. “Because he liked them. Why do I bother.” Nina sounded utterly exhausted.
It felt as if a dark wind was blowing, overturning pieces of her past. She had known that the man was a maniac, the sort who’d secretly help fund a rebellion against his lord just so he’d be kept up-to-date with its proceedings. She’d known. Yet, the fact that his coma was only broken by his cloak sometimes appearing over her shoulders in her sleep, had made a figment of trust bud in her chest. Now, that cloak burned her hands.
“I’m sorry. I got you in this mess.” The traveler was so ashamed, that sentences almost wouldn’t come out. “I’ll get you out. Somehow.”
Gray had never told her not to get close to people, lest he got interested in them. She’d suspected it. She’d been right. Dreams…Such a vulnerable space. Theodosia’s terror flowed like frozen oil over Nina’s shoulders to fuel her smoldering anger. She’d never known he could do that. Had she? She remembered snippets of Gray’s voice as he sunk her into a hypnotic trance. He’d helped with her crippling insomnia and night terrors that way, not as if those were completely normal reaction to him torturing someone in the other room. Nina clawed at her temples. Just what had he put in her mind that she did not remember? Yet…This story wasn’t fully like him. Too obvious. And…dolls?! She rubbed her face, trying to wake up.
“Are you still bleeding?!” Belatedly, Nina turned her gaze to the dark spot on Theodosia’s chest. What was she going to do if the other needed surgery?! As the girl mentally went through available medicinal plants, she didn’t lose track of the larger picture. “How many dolls are we talking about? Like two…three?”
She could deal with a couple of magic dolls, right? Her hands nervously folded. And still…
That Gray would injure someone in such a brazen and seemingly random way felt out of character. What game was he playing? And why was she the one who risked stumbling into murder?
“He might have meant the inheritance cycle of the Clocktower.” Nina spoke quietly. “One becomes the Master of the Clocktower by killing the previous master.” Normally she would have kept the assassin’s secrets, but he’d broken that unspoken truce by invading the mind of the very first person here who’d shown her kindness. Her sarcasm was so dry it cracked. “Yes, that historically went about as well as you can imagine.” She looked down at the dark water, and a shadow leaped just under the surface. “Don’t worry,” she reassured Theodosia. “That’s just the resident octopus. I’m trying to befriend ‘em.” The traveler sighed, and focused on the matter at hand. “There was one of his,” and Nina tilted her head towards the man in the glasshouse, “predecessors, one called the Mother of Shadows. According to legends, she had an extensive network of apprentices and spies, and is even said to have treated them quite fairly.” She gathered her thoughts as she spoke. “Yet…When she was nearing her end, she secretly released a prisoner under the condition that they carry the title instead and run away, breaking the title away from the magic. Trying to break the Tower itself. So I was told by a tree who had cared for that escapee. They really cared about her.” The emotion she remembered from connecting with the great tree's soul carried over. “It didn’t work…Not in the least because hundreds of years later the tree also met Gray, whose aim was also to destroy the Tower which granted him magic.”
Focus. Which was the part most relevant for now?
“Even worse…” Right, that part. “Whether as a side-effect of magic artifacts that the escapee, later witch, carried with her, or as a calculated sacrifice to prevent things getting worse in other areas of the world, part of the forest was…corrupted. Some trees came to life, kidnapped people, encasing them into bark, turning them into trees.”
Nina purposefully did not mention that she carried a part of that accursed clock inside her.
“Could it…Could it be the same kind of corruption?” Nina slammed her fist onto the palm of her other hand. “The magic should have been weaker here!”
She shook her head. There was no time for academic discussion. Someone had to fix this and, once again, it was going to have to be her.
“Either way. If you want to stay, I’ll get you some canvas, and a pot of embers to keep warm. W-“ Nina nearly choked at the word ‘we’. “He,” she spit out, “had the canvas set up to gather mist, for water, so it smells a bit musty, but it should be dry. The tide rises, so in a while, you’ll be safe from anything that can’t swim.”
Nina slumped forward, practically wilting.
“And I’ll go and deal with this.”
‘Somehow.’
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Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Sept 6, 2021 14:04:38 GMT -5
In the weeks that they'd known each other, Theodosia realized, she'd never seen Nina ever look so exhausted before. Even when the woman had been half-drowned and washed up on the beach, she hadn't seemed so weary. She wasn't sure exactly where Nina had been for the past while, but it seemed that the journey had taken quite its toll on her. She'd returned here to her home, her sanctuary, to recover...and here was Theodosia, coming to her with problems and worries. She hesitated, fidgeting, then took Nina's hand in her own soft, uncalloused fingers and gave it an encouraging squeeze.
"You mustn't blame yourself for this, Nina dear," she murmured, squeezing the woman's hand to her chest and meeting her gaze. "You've been dragged into this just as much as I have. Gray told me, and I've no reason to not believe him. I'll get you out of this, Nina. It's not your burden to bear alone. Gray is to blame, and the tower, but not you. What crime did you commit but try to save a dying man?"
She glanced back down at the sleeping man in the tower, looking for all the world like an enbalmed corpse. He'd seemed so menacing in her dream, like a wraith from the very darkest depths of her most feverish nightmares. Was this really the same man who'd intruded upon her dream? How far did the tower's influence really extend? Shuddering, she turned back to Nina and tried to give her a brave smile.
"I don't think I'm still bleeding," she said, raising a fingertip to the spot of blood and rubbing it tentatively. "It went deep, but it was just a needle, and I don't think it hit anything vital. It's a good thing that I'm...nevermind. As for the dolls...oh, I don't know. Fifty or sixty? I make them whenever someone upsets me and poke them full of pins and tell them my complaints every night. I think they might be looking for payback..."
The memory of angrily stabbing needles through the dolls and telling them exactly how much she hated them burned in her mind, filling her with sudden regret. They were just little cloth dolls, who would have thought that they'd listen and remember? What sort of power did the clock tower have that it could force the cruelty of consciousness upon her little curse dollies? If it could corrupt trees and dolls, what would be next? She glanced down at the octopus in the water, wondering if it too would end up dragging someone beneath the waves after spending too long by the tower.
"You aren't going to deal with anything on your own," she said, shaking her head. "They're my dolls. I made them, I whispered hatred into their heads for years. I'm coming with you, I'm not letting you try to take this all on your own shoulders. Besides, don't you think you ought to rest? You look like you haven't slept since the feast."
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 289
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 10, 2021 11:43:03 GMT -5
“What did he tell you?!” Nina flinched. “What did I tell you…” Theodosia disappeared in front of her, as the girl’s eyes filled with tears. When they’d returned from the Angels’ meadow, she’d been so out of it that she could not remember what she said. Her voice was a breathy staccato. “I…I tried to keep it hidden. To give him the chance at a normal life.” She forced out. Memories of the months on the waves filled her mind. Memories of the too-small glasshouse, and of their silences carefully brushing against each other. Away from his spy network, torture instruments, away from the Lord whose every word he would follow, the man had almost seemed…normal. Nina shuddered as she gazed down at the inky mirror of the sea. “Was it foolish of me to hope?” She asked.
She watched ripples grow and crisscross the stars, and felt drawn to letting herself fall. There was something inarguably broken about Gray. Yet sometimes, he was broken in just the right way that he’d changed her perspective of the world for the better. And for that, despite his many crimes, she’d let him live. A sinking feeling enveloped her, and Theodosia’s hug felt suffocating.
“You don’t have to pretend to like me or care, you know.” Nina snapped. “I realize that you’re trying to ensure that I won’t run off.” She pulled away, feeling sick. After all, there could be no other reason while the fortuneteller would shower her with so much affection. “I won’t.” She clenched her hands. She looked down at them. “I was given a power, that enables me to fight things that other people cannot. Which means I have to.”
Sitting there at the edge of the dark tower, the traveler looked more caged than ever. An eyebrow rose when sticking needles in dolls was mentioned, and she opened her mouth as if to say something, but ended up shaking her head.
“Also… It is my fault.” She smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I brought Gray and the Tower here. Instead of…” She imagined taking up a hammer just as a heartbeat of the clock made the glass rumble, and her voice was barely more than a murmur. “Making sure the story of the Tower ended beneath the waves.”
‘Gray?’ The memory asked. ‘What are we going to do if the Mist continues forever?’
‘You’re going to keep asking questions, and I’m going to keep going through my routine.’ The sentence felt as if had ran threadbare, down to the willpower strings within. ‘If you’re idle, you can brush up on your astronomy by telling me about the brightest stars in each constellation and how to use them for guidance.’
‘But there are no stars here!’
‘Which means we aren’t limited to one sky.’
Was it too late?
“But…I won’t lie…I’ll need your help.” Nina sheepishly acknowledged. If Theodosia was a focus point for the magic, she reckoned, then she might hold the most sway over it. “It may be most dangerous for you however. For that, we’ll need weapons.”
Nina rubbed her eyes, and snuck inside once more.
At first in the shadows, and then in the warm glow of a small lamp, Nina hurried between the plants. She snuck a pendant, about the size of a matchbox, under her blouse, and snuck weapons in the usual sleeves. She lifted two sticks for Theodosia to catch, hollow and light. Bamboo, she explained. Ever since it had seen the sun it was growing like crazy. However, the most important piece was a metal sprinkler that Nina asked for help with lifting via rope so it wouldn’t topple over.
“Try not to spill it on me.” Nina asked. “Mistwater. Water condensed from the Mist. It seeps out magic.” She explained. “To you, it’s harmless. Nearly killed me, after I’d been drinking it for a while.”
She looked up at Theodosia, brave, fragile Theodosia, and it occurred to her that heading into a place that had murderous needles shouldn’t be done barefoot.
“I’m afraid I don’t have extra clothes, but I can borrow his boots for you if you’d like.” She tried, awkwardly pointing below.
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Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Sept 13, 2021 1:17:47 GMT -5
Theodosia flinched, suddenly remembering that Nina hadn't been entirely lucid as she'd rambled about her first meeting with Gray. Perhaps it had been a mistake to say...but there was little point in keeping secrets here. When Nina snapped at her and pulled away from her grasp, Theodosia felt suddenly as though she'd been slapped in the face. Her eyes widened as she stared at her friend in shock, unsure as to how she ought to respond. The sudden rejection stung, and she felt the familiar warmth of teardrops in her eyes as she grabbed at her friend's hand once more. If she lost Nina, who else did she have? There wasn't anyone else she could speak to, not a single person she was able to bring her problems to. Squeezing Nina's hand against her chest, she met the woman's gaze, not letting her pull away any further.
"I'm not pretending anything!" she cried, voice echoing off the glass roof and across the gentle surf beneath. "Not with you, Nina. You're the only one, don't you understand? The only one who I can speak to, tell my secrets to! I can't talk to anyone else, not without ruining everything. A fortune-teller has to remain aloof and mysterious, you know. I can't get close to anyone else but you. I'm not pretending to like you, you're the only one I really do care about. My profession doesn't allow me to get close or care about anybody else, not one!"
When Nina admitted that she really did need her help after all, Theodosia smiled once more. This was more like it, the affirmation that she needed. The sense of being needed was something that she sometimes lacked, especially when people called her profession useless or fake. The opportunity to finally help Nina with something, even if it was just solving her own problems, was definitely a welcome one. The woman seemed so tired, after all.
"Don't speak nonsense, Nina," she scolded, shaking her head. "If you'd sent the tower to the bottom of the sea, it probably would have washed up just the same. Look at Gray, Nina. That is a man who clings to life not because he wishes to live, but because he's forgotten how to die. The tower would have remained, spreading its evil without anybody to check it. The only difference, Nina, is that you wouldn't be here with us. Where would I be without you, hmm? Where would we all be? You didn't bring the tower here, Nina. You brought yourself, and that's what matters."
When Nina slipped inside, Theodosia took the opportunity to lean back and gaze up at the unfamiliar stars above. She'd never quite understood star-reading as a fortune-telling method, always considering it a silly and pointless art. What skill was there in reading something that never changed? Sure, there were seasonal differences, but everyone knew that star charts existed. Now, though, looking up at nameless constellations and mysterious astral bodies, she could see how one might try to guess the future in the shapes of the heavens. Perhaps she could offer star readings as a new and novel service to garner more customers...but she'd have to spend some time conspicuously gazing up at the night sky in public first. She had appearances to keep up, after all.
Upon Nina's return, Theodosia took the proffered sticks dubiously. She wasn't sure exactly what good they'd do against the dolls, but figured that perhaps she could use them to knock the little creatures away. The watering can, however, was a different matter entirely. She hefted the metal can cautiously in both hands, eyeing the seemingly-innocuous water within with no small level of concern. Despite her profession, she'd never had any spark of magical ability whatsoever, and so handling something so innately magical was a new and somewhat frightening experience.
Nina's mention of new clothes reminded Theodosia of exactly how cold and wet she was, and she shivered in the gentle breeze. She glanced down at her bare feet and nodded, chuckling at the thought of using Gray's boots. Would they fit?
"What am I supposed to do with this water?" she asked, giving the can a little shake. "Pour it on the dolls? I don't know what good that will do except make them wet. Do you have a lot of experience working with magic dolls, Nina?"
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 289
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 15, 2021 13:06:53 GMT -5
“It erodes magic,” Nina rephrased. She pointed up at Theodosia. “Not a problem if you’re not relying on magic to keep you alive. Bit of a problem if you are.” She pointed at herself, and the lamp illuminated her toothy grin. “And I’ve got magic that’s complex enough to repair itself to some degree. I don’t think they do.”
Walking away, she crouched down and, as she fiddled with the buckles of Gray’s boots, she continued to speak. The boots, and their ominous, regular steps, or alternatively the way they’d be completely silent as their owner appeared behind you, held in them something of the mystery of the Tower. Nina slipped a dagger from one of them, shook down a tiny screwdriver from the other. She stared, as if daring their owner to protest the theft. Then sighed, and threw a canvas over his feet.
“I’d advise keeping the mistwater for emergencies.” She said. Even if there was some more at the bottom of a barrel…“It’s not enough for all of them.” Might make them angry, too.
Thus prepared, and with a curved needle that she’d hesitantly slipped from the back end of a drawer into her pocket, Nina climbed back up on the swinging rope.
“To be fair, I’ve never dealt with dolls.” She admitted. “My magic is one of detail, of understanding. I’d need to be there to see.” By the time she understood, it might be too late, she feared.
They needed to hurry. She helped Theodosia down the ladder, and then slipped into the water herself. The waves now reached the middle of her calves.
“What do we know.” Nina started. In one hand she held a stick and in the other, the lamp, throwing a mirror-like sheen over the waters.
“First, the Clocktower is entwined with death and pain. The concept of punishment, and repetition, might be what drew it to the dolls, like a tall tree draws lightning.” She sketched a zigzag in the air.
With the stick, she prodded and swiped in front of her, to avoid the deeper pools or the spiky animals living in them.
“Second, your dolls in particular were affected, which means that either your emotions about them, or the story those emotions wove, might be used to give them energy.”
Her eyes narrowed, as if she was trying to read hints on the back of her eyelids.
“Third, the only other link to the Clocktower that we have is a dream. If the dream was the pathway, or the catalyst, for magic, then it means they might still be working on dream-logic.”
When they reached what was still the shore, Nina stopped for them to put on their socks and boots. She’d brought a few additional pairs of socks for Theodosia, due to the larger boots.
“I can try to appeal to authority, as a fellow fragment of the Clocktower. Worked on a pair of handcuffs.” The girl pondered. “Might not be enough. On the other hand…” There was a glimmer in her eyes. “They might be less part of the Clocktower than they are of, well, you.”
She stared intently at the sea, lips parting several times as she tried to find the right way to phrase this.
“Why did you craft them?” She asked. “I’m not trying to be mean. I’m trying to understand you, so I could try to understand what makes this magic live.”
“Is it because you genuinely wish those people harm? Is it because you are,” she raised her palms “– and please don’t take offense in it - intrigued by pain? Is it because you feel like you can’t speak out when someone treats you unjustly, because you don’t have a tribe?”
Nina tentatively reached out towards Theodosia.
“Please.”
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Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Sept 19, 2021 19:52:16 GMT -5
Theodosia sat on the roof, looking down at Nina as she pulled the boots off of the comatose Gray. As much as she claimed to hate the man, Nina definitely displayed an awful lot of tenderness as she removed the man's boots and shook out the various little tools and weapons. Theodosia's lips tightened into a thin line as she watched Nina pull a piece of cloth over the man's feet, and she turned away to stare off at the settlement's fires flickering off in the distance. Gray was the cause of quite literally every problem Nina had in her life, and yet she still didn't want the man to get cold feet. Would she ever be so charitable? Perhaps if she didn't hold onto grudges so fiercely, she wouldn't be in this situation in the first place...but surely she couldn't be expected to just let things go, could she? No, that was just unreasonable. The world was unfair enough, and she deserved her little indulgences. They made her feel better, after all.
When Nina returned, Theodosia let her friend help her down the latter before wading back through the surf. Something slimy and cold slithered against her ankle as she stepped cautiously through the water, and she shuddered. Had that been the octopus that Nina had been talking about, or was it just a piece of seaweed? In the inky blackness of the water, it was impossible to tell. Glancing back, she saw Nina walking behind her and suddenly realized that she'd been talking to her.
"Dreams and clocks and dolls," she said, nodding along and trying to remember what Nina had just said. "It'll be a long night indeed. And I haven't really dealt with dolls before either...at least, not like these. Well, I suppose I have dealt with all of these, but not- oh, you know what I mean. I don't know how much logic there is to be found in dreams though, Nina. I wouldn't rely on that, myself. As for the dolls drawing breath from my emotions...what am I supposed to do about that? I don't know the first thing about magic, I just don't want them stabbing me anymore. Needles hurt."
As they stepped up to the shore, Theodosia took the time to pull on Gray's boots. Even with three pairs of socks, they seemed too big on her. At least they would protect her feet, although she worried that she'd trip over them if she tried to run. When Nina started asking about why she made the dolls, though, Theodosia was suddenly very interested in the state of the boots' laces. She knelt in silence for several moments, fiddling and fidgeting with the boots as she tried to figure out how she ought to answer. What could she say that wouldn't make her sound like a bad person? There had to be a way to spin this, to avoid driving away the one and only friend she had.
"It's...a family tradition," she said finally, still firmly focused on her boots. "My mother taught me how to make them when I was small. I...just never grew out of the habit. Come on, let's get going, ok? We wouldn't want them to get out and get into trouble now! No time to be talking, we've got dolls to catch!"
She straightened up and headed off towards the settlement, painfully aware of how shrill her voice had gotten towards the end. Walking quickly, she avoided Nina's gaze and strode quickly, hoping that the light of the lantern didn't reveal how flushed her cheeks had grown. She simply couldn't tell Nina the truth, that her doll-making was borne of pure spite and petty vengeance. Certainly not after watching how generously the woman treated Gray after everything he'd done to her. Any attempts at conversation henceforth would be quickly shushed, followed by a hurried explanation that Theodosia didn't want anyone to hear them and see her running about in just her nightgown.
As the pair approached her little house, Theodosia paused. The window-shutters were open, and she could see the telltale flickering of candles and oil lamps within behind her curtains. Hadn't she closed those before going to sleep? Frowning, she glanced over at the door, which was open as well. She'd slammed that shut as she'd fled, she was sure of it. As they stood in the street, Theodosia turned to Nina, her voice little more than a hushed whisper.
"Something's strange about all this," she said. "I can feel it. I closed that door, and those shutters too. Odd that they'd leave the curtains drawn, though...oh! Did you see that?"
She pointed a shaking finger at the window, where a shadow had just moved across the curtains. The silhouette was not that of a doll, but of a woman, tall and shapely. The figure stood before the window for only a moment before vanishing once more, stepping out of sight.
"There's someone in my house!" whispered Theodosia, shocked. "A person! I don't know who that could be...I don't know any of my neighbors who look like that, at least. Maybe someone heard my screaming and went in to investigate? Oh, I hope she's alright...unless she's not in there to investigate at all. What if she's a robber? A thief, come to steal my things? A lot of people are jealous of my silks and jewelry, I'm sure of it. I've seen people looking, heard them whispering. Maybe she saw me run away and thought it would be a good time to ransack my house! Oh, if I get my hands on that woman I'll..."
She trailed off, looking at her friend. Nina, who tried to help everyone. Nina, who took care of her comatose mentor despite his being a terrible person. Nina, who gave everyone a chance. What would she think if she knew how spiteful Theodosia could be?
"I'll...ask her politely to stop," she finished lamely, then turned away, not wanting to meet Nina's gaze. Instead, she gestured back towards the house, pointing towards the open windows.
"I don't see any dolls," she said, squinting at the curtains for any sign of cotton-stuffed demons. "I wonder where they've gone. I certainly hope they haven't all gotten out. It wasn't a dream, though! They're really awake, and one of them really did stab me. I didn't do that to myself."
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 289
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 22, 2021 16:02:19 GMT -5
Nina stared at Theodosia, an eyebrow raised, until understanding struck.
“Oh! I guess it makes more sense for me to be the scary one.” She murmured, and the light in her eyes folded upon itself.
She didn’t want to be the scary one. But it was too late now, after Tressor’s murder. It would be safer for Theodosia to seem like the reasonable person, if the thief was someone from the village that the fortune-teller had to maintain ties with.
If it was truly just a thief…Nina’s palms felt cold. And if it was, where were the dolls?
Nina licked her fingers and extinguished the fuse of the lamp, which allowed them to approach in the darkness. Even so, the open door seemed too unsettling to try. Too inviting. The girl stood pressed against the wall by the window, trying to hear, trying to sense threads of magic. Yet despite all this she’d still hurry, because if there was somebody inside, she couldn’t bear to wait until magic dolls stuck a needle in the back of their neck.
Like she’d done.
Smoothly, she slipped a knee up the windowsill. For a moment she was one with the window edge, an L-shape of sorts, before she pulled the curtain aside with her bamboo stick. She walked in.
“Greetings.” She’d say, if there was anyone in the room. “So, have you found the cake recipe?”
It was one of the tricks that Gray had taught her, so it seemed fitting to use it against his creations. When the human mind was faced with an absurd situation, it was less capable to focus on attacking.
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Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Sept 22, 2021 16:43:57 GMT -5
As Nina crept up to the house on feet as silent as a spider's, Theodosia followed cautiously behind. Thankfully, the soft, sandy ground kept her oversized boots from making too much noise as she snuck along behind her friend, clutching her arms tightly around herself and shivering from more than just the cold. She peered over Nina's shoulder, holding her breath as the wanderer stepped up to the windowsill and swung a leg over. A moment later, as she swept the curtain aside and announced herself, Theodosia's eyes went wide. Nina (and by extension Gray) had been right, as the two of them often were. When the human mind was faced with something inexplicable, it seldom thought to attack. Instead, Theodosia screamed.
Seated before them in the living room was none other than Theodosia herself...of a sort. The woman sitting primly on the overstuffed couch with her legs crossed and hands folded in her lap certainly looked like Theodosia, with the same flowing red hair and one of her elaborate green silk dresses. The two shared the same figure, the same height, and even the same nervous twitch of the fingertips. The woman seated before them, however, was made entirely of stitched cloth. Her face, crafted from what appeared to be spare scraps of fabric, had only buttons for eyes and a simple painted smile. The hands, so delicate and lifelike, appeared to be made from pieces of silk salvaged from sliced-up undergarments. The hair, styled with a few of the ribbons and golden pins that Theodosia kept in her jewelry box, appeared to be made of red thread. All around the cloth woman's feet sat dozens of little cloth dolls, all working furiously with needles and thread to finish up a few stitches on her ankle. As Nina stepped inside, the sharp click of scissors rang out as one of the dolls severed the thread, finishing the job. The Not-Theodosia rose from her seat, raising the hem of her dress to inspect the stitching before petting the little doll on the head and turning to address the intruder.
"You must be Nina," she said, speaking in an uncannily accurate recreation of Theodosia's own silky-smooth fortune-telling voice. "My friend. My only friend. My children tell me so much. Come in, now. Come in and have some tea. You do like tea, don't you? I'll get a kettle going, just for you. And who's that there behind you? Oh, she's gone. Who could that have been? You'll have to tell me about your new friend, Nina dear."
Indeed, Theodosia had vanished from the window and now sat huddled by the wall, clutching her head in her hands and trembling. Seeing the cloth facsimile of herself was bad enough, but the fact that it spoke in her voice chilled her to her very core. It felt so wrong to her her own voice coming from the mouth of another, especially some fabric monstrosity that her dolls had apparently stitched together from her clothing. What did it all mean? Why had they built her like that? Why her? Why was any of this happening?
"What are you doing with that stick, Nina dear?" asked Not-Theodosia, her words coming from behind the red, unmoving lips. "You can leave it by the door with the parasols and umbrellas. Why didn't you come in through the door? It was open, you know. The window is such a silly way to enter a house, don't you think?"
As she spoke, the dolls scurried around her ankles, bustling to and fro like worker bees tending to their queen. Notably, each and every one bore some manner of sharp implement in its little cloth hands, ranging from large sewing needles and hat pins to kitchen knives and pieces of broken glass.
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 289
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Oct 5, 2021 15:52:48 GMT -5
The stranger had looked impossibly tall, as a shadow projected onto the curtains. Somehow she still did, not physically, but propped up by the insanity of being a living, life-sized doll. Nina’s mind staggered, pulled itself up by a thread of thought involving cake, and felt a kick to the back of its knees as Theodosia’s scream rung behind her.
She dared not turn back. If the fortune-teller had run, then looking for her would attract unwanted attention. And if she had been stabbed in the back by a doll, then she was currently, quietly, dying or carried away hoping, in vain, for the one she called her friend to save her. Nina’s features moved like melting slush ice, slow and disconnected.
Tap. Tap. The traveler hit her stick on the floor.
“This?” She asked, as if it was the first time she’d seen the object. Tap. “I had a bad fall during my journey to the jungle. Need this so I wouldn’t keep getting injured.” Technically correct; firmly a lie. Her eyes brushed over the glimmering glass shards paraded around.
A broomstick would have been better, she thought. Danger fizzled like volcanic spring-water in her veins. It was for the same reason that her usual weapon was a cruel, needle-like thing. With her thin frame, she couldn’t put enough force behind her hits to compete on force; she had to rely on dexterity, what Gray called ‘finés’. She assumed had something to do with finality. But a small, dexterity-based weapon wasn’t of much use when you had to face a small (pfft) army.
“I’m a silly person.” Nina shrugged. She gestured widely, turning as if to encompass all of the dolls, and studying the room around her along the way. She remained close to the wall. “The door is open, you say? That’s strange.” The girl tilted her head. Her eyes seemed to lose focus, almost as if she was looking through the cloth-Theodosia. “Were you expecting someone?”
She was looking. Her magic expanded, trying to grasp how things were connected. That would tell her where to cut.
“Maybe Gray, by any chance?” She tapped her chin. “I’m concerned he might’ve caused trouble in my absence.”
She talked more than she needed, trying to buy time for her exploration. Colors wove in her mind, ranging from a sharp burn to a breathless azure. That was the closest she could describe them. She could have spent hours exploring them, each millimeter a meadow, each seam a river. It nearly hurt to hurry.
Alas, sometimes magic had to be mercenary. One of her first lessons.
“And, oh, if you don’t mind-“ The stick tilted to point at the cloth-woman, as if by accident. As if by accident, Nina’s affable tone went dangerously low, like the meltwater of her fear was falling down high rocks. “Just who exactly are you? I’ve never met you before.”
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Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Oct 5, 2021 17:08:56 GMT -5
Not-Theodosia inclined her head, peering curiously at the thin rod with her black button eyes for a long, lingering moment. It was a strange experience indeed, being looked at by eyes which were very obviously not eyes at all, but the fabric fortune-teller seemed to manage well enough. She chuckled, the sound seeming to drift out from behind the motionless painted lips, and stepped towards the door. As she walked, the little dolls parted before her, swirling and swarming about her as though to guard her from harm.
"Silly indeed," she said, shutting the door with a sharp click. "That's odd...I'm sure I was waiting for someone, but I can't for the life of me remember who it was. I don't suppose you know, Nina dear? Oh, how strange of me to forget. It feels as though my head is filled with cotton sometimes...I don't think it was Gray. Who is that, again?"
A doll tugged on the hem of her skirt, and she bent low for the little creature to whisper into her ear. Nodding, she gave the doll an affectionate peck on the forehead before straightening up once more, clapping her hands together with the soft pat of cloth on cloth.
"Ah," she said, bobbing her head up and down. "Gray, of course. No, it certainly wasn't him. Isn't he still asleep? No, it was someone else entirely. Who could it have been...but oh, it seems that I'm not the only forgetful one here today! Surely you can't have forgotten, Nina dear. It's me, Theodosia. Your friend. Don't you remember?"
A strangled sob came from outside the window as Theodosia heard the doll claim her name in her own voice. Clapping a hand over her mouth, she trembled and hugged her knees, wondering if perhaps this was still all just a twisted nightmare. Hearing her own voice coming from the doll was bad enough, but to have it claim to be her was awful. What would it do if it found her? Worse yet...what if Nina decided that she liked the cloth version of Theodosia more than the real thing? What if all the townsfolk did? Where would she go if she was cast out, replaced by a soft, silken version of herself that wasn't full of spite and hatred? As she sat there, wracked with anxiety and self-pity, a sharp pain stabbed into her ankle. She yelped, slapping at the spot, but found nothing but a droplet of blood leaking from a tiny pinprick.
"Oh!" cried Not-Theodosia, lifting the hem of her skirt to see the little doll beneath. The cloth creature looked up at her with large button eyes, still holding the needle it had used to prick her ankle.
"Oh, you little scoundrel!" she continued, scooping up the doll in her arms and pinching its cheek. "What did I tell you about being naughty? Do that again and I'll put you in a box. Run along now, and be good!"
She placed the little doll on the ground, fixing it with one more reproachful stare as it bowed its head in clear contrition. The doll vanished beneath an overstuffed sofa, and Not-Theodosia let out a soft giggle.
"They're so troublesome at times," she said, waving a hand towards the horde of dolls as they scurried about and crawled up the furniture. "But I simply adore them. Now then, Nina dear. What was it that brought you here to my door? I don't believe you've ever been here before. Surely you didn't come all this way for a cup of tea?"
As she said the words, three dolls ran out from the kitchen bearing a steaming teapot between them. Two more ran after them, wearing teapots on their heads like helmets. Plucking the teacups from the doll's heads, Not-Theodosia offered one to Nina, then filled them both from the teapot. The sparse leaves at the bottom of Nina's cup swirled as she poured, the liquid barely dark enough to be considered tea.
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 289
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Oct 24, 2021 15:18:39 GMT -5
Nina's eyes explored the simple room, following the cloth-Theodosia as closely as one might a dangerous beast. It was a nice room, she thought, and hated herself for it. Under her fingers the wooden wall felt rough, left largely unpolished by carpenters hurrying to finish houses for the Village-Empire before the summer rains came in. But there was colorful cloth adorning both walls and floor, like blankets for the soul. Nina wondered whether owning enough silk to make a duplicate of yourself was a reasonable thing.
It would have had to be acquired recently, she reckoned, Theodosia having hinted at being picked up by the Depravity with little more than the clothes on herself. Maybe it had come with the house. Maybe not. Convincing a rich lady from Naoki's entourage to leave a rich gift seemed harmless, didn't it, almost a punchline when compared to the larger con of inherited class wealth. But then Nina thought back at Theodosia's mention of séances, and she wasn't so sure anymore.
She told herself that it didn't matter. She had brought the curse of magic here, she would cast it out.
But so much of the magic could be tangled with Theodosia's mind that it unsettled the traveler to realise she might not know her friend that well.
"I did not forget. I do not remember," she said, cryptically, lips tensely parted in the manner of one trying to say more.
Her fingers dug into the wooden windowsill, and the traveler half-turned and nearly propelled herself back over it, when a shrill cry drew her that way, ready to strike and stab. But a frost-edged moment of hesitation, of looking at the false Theodosia shoo the small doll away, hinted that it would not be by stabbing that this mystery was brought to an end. If her suspicions were true, the two Theodosias might be linked.
She wondered what would end it.
"Tea. Right. Lovely." She spoke, the pauses in-between more palpable than the words.
She wondered, eyes narrowed in the struggle to remember, about beehives, and about who-
'Who is really in control,' Gray had mused. 'The Queen, or the worker bees?' He was reading a thin booklet with a golden bee on the cover.
'The Queen, obviously.' Nina replied. She eyed the volume, that Gray had called a scientific journal, one of which she'd tried stealing in her quest to murder the man, before figuring out they were not written by him and not even journals. Boring, too.
'Are queens always in control?' The man had raised his gaze in his unsettling, unblinking way, like a scalpel scraping at the skull, that she could feel without seeing.
Was cloth-Theodosia in control, or was she a sacrifice in the doll's quest for vengeance against the real one? Nina wondered. She picked up her tea, surprised that she wasn't shaking, nodding thanks to the little carriers.
The cup felt warm against her fingers. Her lips were parched, but she didn't drink.
"You have to read this for me," the traveler said, hands clenched on the cup. "It's important. Look." She reached out towards the stranger. "Not too deep. Just under the surface."
She remembered destroying a magical being before, in a similar matter. She remembered enough to realise that there were gaps in that memory.
"Reflection." Nina uttered, like a spell. "I'm sorry. You are not Theodosia. You are not the friend who dragged me to safety through darkness and forest and storm." Her voice picked up like a branch twirling in the wind, and then cracked. "Say, has it occurred to you...that you're made out of whole cloth?"
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Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Oct 28, 2021 13:39:02 GMT -5
The more Nina looked around the living room, the more gaudy tokens of luxury she would see. Silks and tapestries hung from the walls, woven years ago on looms that would never spin again. Fine vases, likely brought from the old world in straw-filled crates, held unusual plants of all varieties. The air was scented by incense and candles, luxuries that only the most wealthy would have wasted precious cargo space on. It was difficult to tell how much food or useful supplies could have been brought if such extravagances had been merely abandoned when the floodwaters came, but trying to calculate such a figure was only an exercise in frustration. Clearly, Theodosia's grifting and "seances" had done well for her, at least among what had once been the upper crust. Decadence, it seemed, smelled of lavender.
As Nina asked for a reading, Not-Theodosia swept over, her footsteps as soft and light as if she were floating on air. She jangled as she walked, silken wrists heavy with golden bracelets Theodosia's numerous jewelry boxes. Bending down over Nina's teacup, she peered into the swirling liquid with her button eyes, watching as the scant few tea leaves within drifted and spun. It seemed that the dolls had copied the way Theodosia always made it, concerned as she was over her ever-dwindling supply of precious leaves.
"Reading so few leaves is an exercise in patience," she said, cupping the teacup (and Nina's own hand) in both soft fabric hands. "One never sees the whole picture at once, so it's left to the mystic to fill in the blanks. It's all about connecting the dots and seeing what makes sense, but the threads of destiny aren't exactly clear on the best of days. It's not something just anybody can do, but the fates have blessed me with clever eyes."
Outside, Theodosia listened in horror as her own words came from a doll's painted mouth. Had she not spoken those same lines to a former duchess just this morning? The sheer uncanniness of hearing herself made her tremble, the impossibility of it all eliciting a sense of utter revulsion from deep within her psyche. This wasn't supposed to happen. This couldn't happen...and yet it was. She was being replaced by a doll, and was powerless to do anything but listen and shiver. Nina was her only hope, the only chance of salvation from this ludicrous situation, and yet she was terrified that her friend would decide that she liked the cloth version of her better.
When Nina informed Not-Theodosia that she was in fact made of cloth, the doll-woman froze. She looked up at Nina, staring at her with blank buttons and a painted, unmoving smile. While her expression didn't change, however, her body language did. She stood more stiffly, fidgeting slightly and clutching her hands together in a startlingly accurate mimicry of the real Theodosia.
"What ever do you mean, Nina dear?" she asked, the faintest of tremors creeping into her voice. "Of course I am. Don't you recognize me? I'm Theodosia, don't you recognize your friend? I don't know who else I could be, I don't believe there are any other fortune-tellers around. Are you confused? And-and-and...whole cloth? Don't be silly!"
She looked down at the teacup again, looking for her reflection in the steaming liquid, but a doll in tiny green boots jumped up and smacked it out of her hand. Not-Theodosia yelped as the irreplaceable teacup shattered on the ground, sending tea and shards of ceramic everywhere.
"Oh!" she gasped, stumbling back. "Oh, how very rude. Why ever did you do that?"
She picked up the doll and pinched its cheek reproachfully, causing it to squirm in her grasp. As she did so, the other dolls seemed to take a new interest in Nina's presence. The little figures began spreading out, circling around Nina and positioning themselves strategically near the windows and doors. Meanwhile, Not-Theodosia seemed to take notice of her hands for the first time, staring at them and pinching her fingers nervously.
"These...these are just gloves," she declared, tugging at a fingertip and quickly clasping both hands behind her back. "That's all. Very nice gloves, from...oh, I can't remember. Someone must have given them to me, someone very kind indeed. How nice of them. Everyone's so nice to me."
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