AU week -- multipup edition

[ostro_goth]

In the bar today, you find:

• a wind turbine engineer who had recently moonlighted as sea rescue volunteer, now carefully arranging a breakfast for two on a tray;
• a metal musician who walks in from the the door, followed by a grey cat, to sit down by the fireplace, order a craft beer, and start trying out cords on his guitar:
• a vampire in a long black coat, shielding himself from the sunlight by standing calmly in a dark corner;
• a biker in full leathers and cut-off vest, leaning against the bar with a beer and listening to the music;
• a dark-haired woman in ca. 1910 clothes, folding suffragette pamphlets at a table right next to the window, the sun warm on her hands;
• an FBI consultant who steps in from a hot and humid place that stinks of stagnant waters, and sighs with relief upon seeing Milliways.

They are all basically friendly and approachable people, even though you might want to be wary with the vampire.



[[OOC: Teja and Count are alive and don't live in Milliways; Hannibal is from this amazing fanfic. Please say in your tag whom you want, or you might get whoever is just logged in.]]

Comments

[sunbaked_baker]

She chuckles, dry. "A combination of quality and how difficult it is to get. Hulldagh nutmeg is about the best in the entire kingdom, or what's left of it, and the demand is upped by the fact that it tends to only grow in out of the way places. Like how Kettier Ginger is the most sought-after ginger partially because it only grows on Mount Ravatogh, and few people are willing to brave the slopes."

[cook_the_rude]

"So I should probably ask for some of that as well, unless they are terribly hard to come by," Dr. Lecter says. "In that case, I would just cheat and ask the bar."

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine grins, pulling aside her rucksack to go looking through it. "I did come across some of the nutmegs some time back. I'd been keeping them dry so I might sell them I got back to Lestallum."

Among pouches of strange, octohedron gems of earthy red-brown, small vials half-filled with silver or gold dust, and darkly iridescent plumage carefully wrapped to keep the feathers clean and unbroken, is a small sack of seven or eight whole nutmegs, partially dried.

"No tomatoes where I am, unfortunately. The Vesperpool is all marshland around its edge until you either reach the mountains, the Myrlwood, or the tunnels to Meldacio."

[cook_the_rude]

"We get tomatoes here," Hannibal says. "I grow them in large pots outside."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I'm terribly jealous," Sunshine shakes her head, wry. "I've always liked the idea of having a garden, growing something of my own, but alas, it was not to be."

Her tone may be lightly amused, but there's a wistfulness there that speaks to the truth of the words. Her lifestyle does not allow her to put down roots, literal or metaphorical.

"There's plenty to be found in the wilds that is good to eat, but there's a lot of making do with what one has on-hand. I may start... collecting the seeds of what I find, just in case."

She imagines fresh food and growing things may be in short supply in the future, if things keep going the way they are.

[cook_the_rude]

"Don't you have a friend with a garden, or at least a balcony, where your plants might find asylum?"

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine shakes her head slightly. "Not without putting most of the burden of growing them on said friend, and I'd not do that. I'm rarely in town, and even more rarely here."

"There's just too much to do, and too few people to do it."

[cook_the_rude]

"You could grow things here and entrust them to the rats," Hannibal suggests. "Or, indeed, me."

[sunbaked_baker]

"That is a very kind offer," she replies, hesitatingly greatly. "But I think... it may be more important for me to get what I can find to those who can grow them back home, rather than worry about my idle desire for a garden of my own."

Giving the seeds to a friend to grow isn't having a garden of one's own, in any case, and viable seeds may be in short supply soon.

"I don't recall what-all I've told you about the situation back home," Sunshine adds, "but in any case it's gotten worse, and it looks like it'll only continue that way for some time, unless something drastic happens."

[cook_the_rude]

"I heard about refugees and catastrophes, but not the details, or indeed the reasons for the situation," Hannibal says.

[sunbaked_baker]

"I've mentioned the war? Between Lucis and Niflheim? Well, there was a cease-fire called a while back, and they were working on a peace treaty," she says, even her wry cheer fading somewhat. "Well, the royals were. Our side was. There was... treachery at the treaty-signing, and the Crown City fell to the invasion a couple of weeks ago. The King's dead, the Oracle... said to be dead as well, though no one ever found her body, and the Crown Prince and his retinue are on the run. Fugitives. The Prince is still reported to be dead, officially, because the Niffs of course don't want anyone holding out hope or getting any ideas of resisting now they've got the city as well as the rest of the country, but we've seen him about."

"I mean, some other hunters've reported seeing him. I've not," she amends.

"The.. uh... the main worrying thing, even aside from all that, the refugees from the Crown City, and the roadblocks and all..." she says, as though hesitant to say it out loud, as though saying it aloud will somehow make it real, "...um... the days are getting shorter."

[cook_the_rude]

"In our world, that happens once every year, as summer turns towards winter," Hannibal says. "Or do you mean that the entire day and night together are getting shorter, as if the planet was speeding up?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh that happens in our world too, seasons changing and all, nights getting longer as we get toward winter, and getting shorter as we get on towards summer," she replies, worry edging her words.

"But... it's springtime, Dr. Lecter. Growing season. And suddenly people're noticing the sun is rising a bit later and setting a bit earlier each day. It's... apparently been going on for a while, according to people more in-the-know than me, just so slightly that nobody really noticed - a few seconds here and there - until recently. It's just really become noticeable since the Crown City fell. More people are getting caught away from safety by the earlier sundown."

[cook_the_rude]

"What happens after dark?"

[sunbaked_baker]

The hunter looks at him.

"The daemons come out."

[cook_the_rude]

"What do they do to people?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"They consume them. And make anyone they consume... like them. Another daemon."

That's the tragedy of it, knowing that what necessitates the saving of travelers is what remains of those who weren't saved.

"It's why the roads are particular dangerous after nightfall. It's where people were most likely trying to travel, to hurry back to safety in time."

"The daemons are connected to the lengthening of the nights, from what I hear, but nobody I've talked to is sure how."

[cook_the_rude]

"There more daemons there are, the more the planet lists to one side?"

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine grimaces a bit. "I've heard tell that it's all down to... some sort of parasite that gets into a person's system and makes 'em into a daemon. And the parasite is supposed to be sensitive to sunlight but thrive in darkness, which is why daemons don't show up in daytime and get hurt if they stay out past sunrise. And it may be the parasite's photo-whatever influence spreadin' everywhere that's making the days shorter, but hell if I know how it all works."

"I just kill 'em and try to keep 'em from killing people."

[cook_the_rude]

"But it seems to be a losing fight?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"That doesn't mean it's not worth fightin'," Sunshine points out, a little more pointedly than she'd intended.

Rage, Rage, against the dying of the etc. and so forth.

"I'm not saying I'm a hundred percent on the details, or even if the prophecy's real, though I've read the Cosmogony, but... nobody has any better answers. If our efforts help the Prince get what he needs and where he needs to be in time to turn things around, then I'll be there. They say the gods tied up the cure for the spreadin' darkness into the royal line. So the Marshall of the Crownsguard has sent out word to all the Hunters, askin' if we'd help them locate the lost royal tombs. They hold the royal arms, and are are necessary part of the thing, if they're interpreting the prophecy right."

"I think there may be one near the Vesperpool, and meant to check the Myrlwood today, but got too caught up herding wayward anglers back to safety."

[cook_the_rude]

"Literally along the line," Hannibal says. "So you need to rouse the dead kings for a while, to collect each one's part of the mystery? Grisly but, probably, doable."

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine chuckles, dry. "No rousing dead kings for me, or any of us. Our part's just to help find 'em, so the Prince can do his part and rouse 'em or whatever he needs to do. Get them to help however he can, being of their blood."

"If there's a tomb hidden anywhere near where I'm stationed. It's in the Myrlwood. That place is a labyrinth, but I'd face it any day rather than venture too far into Steyliff. That place gives me the creeps and is full of demons, to boot."

[cook_the_rude]

"Too many even for you to kill?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"Far too many. I wouldn't venture in there unless there was an absolute pressing need and I had a whole lotta backup," she remarks. "Those ruins are ancient, and who knows what ancient horrors lurk in there, demons too dark to even bear starlight. Steyliff Grove is a ruin of old Solheim, from thousands of years ago. Their civilization - supposedly super-advanced - spanned the globe and created marvels of magic and technology before the Astral War and the starscourge put paid to them."