songerein | The Informant

Entry tags:

alastor

The Informant | Closed

Who: Tobias and Alastor
Which: Closed Log
Where: The forest/Alastor's place
What: Tobias has questions, and ironically the radio demon seems likely to keep his mouth shut.
Warnings: Probably talk of PTSD and war in here. Also hunting, and cannibalism is likely to show up.

Tobias has questions. A lot of questions, actually. He needs information about this place, and the weird demon (alien?) seemed willing enough to provide it. So why not try him? ... A bunch of reasons, up to and including "demons aren't real", "if they are real you shouldn't make a deal with them", and "if you're going to give a present to a demon, what do you even bring?". But eventually Tobias settles on a course of action. He waits until he can see Alastor go off to do... something.

And then he goes off to execute his plan.

He morphs in the woods to Hork-Bajir, setting off for where he'd seen deer. It doesn't take long for him to take one down, considering that he jumps on it from the tops of the trees and brings down a wrist blade into its neck. The head severs from the neck cleanly, and the rest of the herd scatters.

Tobias drags it back to Alastor's place, sets it nearby, and demorphs. There's no cameras here (he's pretty sure) so he's safe. ... He thinks. But either way he's done it, and he perches on a tree nearby to wait for Alastor to come back. ... It's a good thing he already ate, since that deer would make him very hungry.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Precisely!"

Good to see the hawk was paying attention.

"Not anything like the Great War, no. Last year there was a threat known as the Story Eater that we needed to seal away. Some of the first group of dreamers had initially come from another world that the Story Eater had consumed. It was quite a battle, really! However, the Story Eater was overwhelmed by our sheer unwillingness to die. A little cleanup and everything was right as rain!"

Great War? ... Oh right, the guy was old. Lame, but understandable. If what he said was at all true, anyway. He could either actually be a demon or he could be a liar. He'd have to look for other sources to double-check.

<Story Eater... I've heard of things that take over worlds but not really... devour them.> The closest he could think of was like... a giant Taxxon. Man that'd be horrifying... a planet-sized ugly worm? He shuddered mentally. <But good to know that people are stubborn here, too. It's a good trait for pretty much anyone to have, really.>

It was a trait he was very familiar with himself. He'd lost track of how long he'd been a hawk, but he'd surprised himself with just how strongly he'd wanted to survive. <But there's no...> ... Should he even insinuate anything? He wasn't sure. There was no reason to bring this guy in completely, but...

<... The enemy we've been fighting could be anywhere. They... infect people, basically. And then they don't have a choice but to fight for their side. So there's a reason I'm cautious.> 'We're cautious' really, but Alastor didn't have to know about Rachel. Not yet.

Alastor went quiet, moving his elbows to the armrests as he steepled his fingers. He kept smiling the whole time, but his body language broadcast that he was taking the question very seriously. He held perfectly still like a deer as his ambient static buzzed louder, periodic snippets of music and other thoughts flickering through like someone rapidly scanning between radio stations.

"I've never heard of such a thing, not even in Hell," Alastor admitted after several minutes of thoughtful silence. "I could claim that such a thing doesn't happen here, but someone infected, as you put it, would say that. And if they truly are as quiet a threat as you seem to imply, proving to you that I'm not infected doesn't prove that it doesn't exist at all. All it proves is that if there is such a thing, I'm merely unaware of it."

He unsteepled his fingers to prop his cheek up on his fist.

"Quite a conundrum you've brought me!"

<Yeah. It's a problem. I mean, we could tie you up for three days to see if you're clean, but I suspect neither of us would like that.>

Did he just have to hope they weren't here? But hope never got him anything but pain and disappointment. Being careful was what let him stay alive.

<... Magic isn't a thing where I'm from. So it's kind of hard to accept that you - I mean, I don't think that - hm. ... Basically if you were actually a demon, you... probably would be fine? I can't imagine that you don't have defenses.>

"You'd regret it if only because I'm an absolute horror when I'm bored. That and you'd only be able to hold me because I let you. After all, it's very difficult to hold someone..."

He melted into shadow, reappearing behind the very same chair that Tobias perched on with his cheek still propped up by his fist.

"...who can teleport."

He turned at the sound of fabric moving, glaring at Alastor. ... Yeah. Yeah, he should have figured something like that was going to happen.

<Which means you wouldn't have gotten taken over unless you wanted to be. Which I doubt you do. I don't... know a lot of stories of demons, but the stories I've read that do have them they're pretty independent.>

So he was... safe? Maybe? In that way at least. There was nothing about this situation that felt safe. Honestly part of him wanted to fly away because what could he do if this person became an enemy? But he kept himself still, just staring at Alastor.

Alastor stepped away from Tobias, strolling back around to his previous seat. Partially as a courtesy so as not to further startle the hawk.

"That I don't, but depending upon how infection happens, I might not have a choice. Hell still has your basic plagues and hayfever."

Yes. Hell had allergies. It was Hell.

"And we do tend to be an independent lot though it's about having the power to achieve such a thing. Many weaker demons end up selling their souls to stronger ones for protection or other needs. The more powerful demons have not just their contractees as thralls but as a power source for their own magic."

He shrugged lightly as he sat back down.

"I take it those stories you've heard mentioned Deals? You bringing me an offering right out the gate and saying you didn't want to owe any debts sounds like they did. A true Deal -- capital D -- isn't something you can just accidentally stumble into, I assure you. When a Deal is being made, there's quite a light show to go with it for starters. A Deal requires both parties to be fully cognizant that a magically-binding agreement is taking place.

"Then again, these are the rules of my particular Hell. There are a variety of different demons here though not as many as there once were. The rules can vary from world to world."

He listened carefully, settling down again a bit. Should he... hm.

<It's more... being held down and accepting a parasite. Or doing it of your own free will, which does happen.>

But yeah, guilty. He shifted from talon to talon before responding.

<Pretty much. I don't know much about demons. And... okay. So like a multiverse thing. I think I'm starting to get the picture. Not sure I like how it's developing, but I get it.>

Was he angry that other versions of Earth probably weren't dealing with what he was? Yeah. Was he relieved about it? Also yeah.

<I just wanted to cover my butt in case of anything. And it doesn't hurt to get friendly with your neighbors, or so I've been told.>

"Hmm. I suppose I can see why some people might think that was their only option. You do have people willingly giving up their souls in Hell, after all."

At the hawk's uncomfortable shifting, Alastor waved his hand carelessly.

"Oh, I'm not offended! It's only natural you'd be cautious about such things! Particularly if one's free will can be usurped by some parasite intent on conquest. Why invite more trouble than what you already have? If you've got a question, ask away! Even if for no other reason than that deer you brought me is worth significantly more than a 'I don't know about any evil parasites hellbent on taking over this dream world'. Mind I can't tell you everything, of course, but I won't lie to you. A Deal Maker who doesn't keep his word finds himself with no one to make Deals with."

<Makes sense. It's kind of nice to at least... maybe be able to lower our guards slightly. Not totally, obviously - that'd be dumb. But if you haven't seen anything and you've been here a few years, then... maybe...>

Screw it. If anyone can keep their mouth shut, it's someone who makes deals. Or Deals, as the case may be.

<... Obviously I'm not a normal hawk. But uh. I got this way because of alien technology. I used to be human. ... But you knew most of that already, didn't you?>

"I gathered you weren't just an average hawk, yes. For starters, there's no reasonable way you could have brought that deer to my doorstep without help, and the way you wanted privacy for our conversation gave me the impression you weren't likely to ask for outside assistance unless you had no other choice. Though I would have assumed magic, not technology. Still, it isn't that farfetched. The idea of an aeroplane would seem like magic to someone even a hundred years before my time."

Arthur C. Clarke and his famous three laws weren't written until almost three decades after Alastor's death, so the radio host wasn't likely to know them. Still, that third law was basic common sense.

"However, your...well, 'voice' for lack of a better term sounds quite young. I find it disturbing that so many alternate Earths that appear here rely on child soldiers."

<Pretty much. ... And yeah. It's frustrating that it's just us, but... there's no real choice. It's this or let our world get taken over. I wish it was different, but it's not.>

As for the way he got the deer to Alastor's door...

<I could show you, but it's gross.>

Alastor gave a bemused smile.

"After nearly a century in Hell, my constitution is capable of handling quite a lot of unpleasantness. Really, you'd have to hold an orgy or a blood sacrifice on my living room rug to disgust me. Particularly since I'd have to burn the rug to rid myself of the reminders, and I'm quite fond of this rug."

[He chuckles slightly and then flutters to the middle of the room to give himself space.]

<Gotcha. Here goes.>

[He starts to morph, body expanding and changing as he does. It really doesn't take all that much time but it's gross to watch - at least from Tobias' point of view - as feathers pull into his body and his legs thicken and grow longer. Blades pop out of his arms and legs and... everywhere.]

[It takes under a minute, but what was once a hawk is now something completely different.]

<You'd never guess it, but they're actually a pacifist species when they're on their own.>

[Alastor watches with keen interest, not even flinching at some of the more disturbing changes.]

[Once the transformation was complete, Alastor gives an intrigued "hmm". He stands up and walks over, examining the creature. Taller than a human. Had Alastor been a little shorter than his own seven feet, the creature would've been especially intimidating. Despite his cervine features, he eyeballs the creature with the cool efficiency of a hunter gauging potential prey.]

They'd almost have to be. The positions of some of these blades are very inefficient for a predatory species without significant intelligence guiding those blades. However, they'd be extremely useful in tearing through thick vegetation along with making it difficult for a predator to make an easy kill.

[He runs a claw along one of the blades on the creature's neck.]

For example, the long neck should be a vulnerable spot. A predator would normally just need to lock its jaws around the neck until it suffocated, but blades here create a significant risk to the predator attempting that.

[He does his best not to flinch when he's touched - he's not used to it. But he stays still for Alastor's benefit.]

<Right, exactly. I've heard the stories of their species... they're almost all either dead or infected. The ones that are free are a very small number, and they're not even on their native planet anymore.>

[He eyes Alastor carefully - he looks different now that he's not hyperfixated on the details.]

<The enemy's taken a lot from a lot of people.>

"Quite unfortunate," Alastor mused, folding his hands neatly behind his back. "In Hell, souls are commonly traded as easily as coins which is enough of a horror. I can't fathom not just being a slave in body but also mind.

"At least when one first trades their soul to someone, it's by their own poor choices. I take it this poor species is enslaved cradle-to-grave regardless of their own decisions."

He shook his head.

"No no no no, I certainly wouldn't want to see that here!"

<Pretty much. They're very loyal and form tight family and tribe connections... but now they're used as shock troops for our enemy. ... I helped guide some of the free ones to a safe place out in the wilds, but they're obviously very scared of the idea of getting infected again.>

Sell their soul? He wasn't sure that he had one, but the idea of selling it - well. He could only think of a few people he'd risk eternal torture for.

<... They named their first child after me, too. The first free Hork-Bajir in generations.>

Oh, Tobias. The stories Alastor could tell you.

"Congratulations to you and them," Alastor said.

He stopped his inspection of what he now knew as "Hork-Bajir". He retook his seat.

"I admit I'm curious how this technology that lets you do this works, but I don't imagine I'd be able to properly understand it. Still, there is a question I might be able to understand the answer to: I can see why you'd use this form to move the deer, but why remain in your hawk form when entering my home? I don't imagine it's very comfortable for a bird to be anywhere he can't see the sky. So either you're that paranoid about me seeing your true face or there's more to you than even this."

<To be fair, I don't know how it works either. Not in any sort of way that's useful for understanding it, at least. ... As for the forms... hawk is my natural form.>

Now, at least. His human form just feels... wrong, nowadays.

<I spend most of my days hunting and watching people. I'm the one who scouts out places before missions. It's not like I go to school or anything.>

Not anymore. And it's not like he learned much there anyway.

"I don't need the specifics of what happened, but if I may offer a bit of advice? If you're trying to obscure what you are, asking someone where the library calls into question if you were always a bird based on the amount of things that would have to go right for such a thing to be true."

He started ticking things off on his fingers.

"You can read, can speak telepathically, and somehow managed to obtain access to technology allowing for metamorphizing into other creatures. The first is theoretically possible -- I've reported on quite a few tales of hyperintelligent birds during my time so perhaps you were originally someone's pet that they taught to read -- but telepathy? Quite an odd development but very fortunate for a hyperintelligent hawk. And to top that off, you just so happen to come upon something that granted you transmogriphication abilities?"

He raised a brow.

"One item is chance. Two is coincidence. Three is...well, traditionally the phrase is 'enemy action', but I don't think that applies in this case. Regardless, it's highly suspect. Again, I'm not asking for your tragic tale, but I'd be satisfied in having confirmation that I'm right. Or at the very least confirmation that should any more people like you show up, they're not likely to have any ill will towards Reverein if this secret war you've been plucked out of has made you too paranoid to do so."

He narrowed his eyes over his pleasant smile.

"I quite like this town, you understand. After ninety years of eternal torment, this idyllic little place is as close to Heaven as I'll ever get. If nothing else about me, you can trust that I've no ill will towards the people here and do what I can to protect them."

Tobias had seen him hunting the redcaps after all.

<I don't think that they're going to have an issue with the town. To be... hm. Perfectly honest, there's only one of our number who might be as paranoid. But we don't have any ill will towards the place - just a healthy suspicion towards an unknown situation.>

At least it's a healthy suspicion to him.

"Then we'll have no issues!" Alastor said cheerily. "A little bit of paranoia never hurts!"

Alastor's smile was bright, chipper.

<That's what I think, at least.>

He's honestly glad this place is pretty peaceful. Quite honestly the amount of stress they've been under for literal years has frayed him at the edges. He's not how he used to be, and while he's glad he's not... paranoia eats at you.

But he lets go of the morph, quickly returning to his hawk form. At least Alastor doesn't seem grossed out.

<You're taking all of this pretty well, considering. Demon or no.>

"Spend ninety years in Hell, and you learn to take things as they come," Alastor said breezily. "I won't say that transformation of yours isn't unsettling, but it's honestly not the worst one I've ever seen. Besides, Hell isn't exactly a pleasant place to be. Picture the mundanity of everyday life coupled with there being no limit on any depravity you can think of and a thousand more you can't."

He glanced at his claws.

"For example, you can't walk five feet down a sidewalk without having to step over some sort of bodily fluid at least once."

The Informant | Closed

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Gmail, where the hell did you send this tag?!

To the Shadow Realm, clearly

Just gonna swap this back to the original format LOL

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WHERE DID THIS TAG GO?! DAMMIT

It happens!

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