abraxaslogs | [open/closed] but I ignore things and I move sideways

[ river doesn't have the best social skills with anyone, let alone children - another reason she appreciates wilhelm's friendship and the easy way he goes along with her weirder behaviors. as it is, she just follows behind him silently, scanning the area and listening to the silence as he tries and fails to make conversation with any of them.

there are other children in the schoolyard, most of them behaving as one might expect of kids recently released from classes for the day: shouting and running around, racing home or lingering around to hang out with their friends. it makes these ones stand out even more, along with a few other children river notices that are alone, oddly intense as they play with their own dolls.

she turns to catch wilhelm's perplexed expression and responds with a very sincere shrug. what the fuck, indeed. ]

They can hear but they're not listening. And they're... seeing, without looking.

[ no, that doesn't seem quite right. she frowns and steps closer to the children, trying to get a better look at the doll on the ground in the center of their circle. ]

What do you see?

[The strange thing — well, on top of everything else — is that the children aren't even playing with the doll. The doll lies with its glass bead eyes staring up at the overcast sky and its stuffed limbs splayed. Each limb, he suddenly notices, points at one of the four children gathered around it. The precision of it is unsettling, like they've invented a magic ritual in their game of pretend. Except maybe it's not pretend.

The hat man likes to play horsey, mumbles the smallest girl in the circle, perfectly placid. The girl who stared at Wilhelm before chimes in, The hat man is such fun.]

He's...your friend?

[He's not sure what else he's supposed to say. And now he's not sure that they'll get anything useful out of these kids, other than the confirmation that, yep, something is very wrong. Looking up from the children, he notices the teacher standing in the doorway, a matronly woman with grey hair pulled back from her soft face in a severe bun. She shakes her head helplessly at a boy who's fiercely playing with his doll by himself.]

[ maybe he isn't getting anything useful out of them, but river's mind is wide open and absorbing everything around them as she stares almost unblinkingly. the doll is on the ground and the children stare at it too; river can feel their singular-minded focus and tries to follow it, tries to see what they're seeing or what they hope to find.

but there's nothing. no hats, no horses, no rooms painted red. another whisper passes through the group and river finds herself mouthing along, momentarily caught in the web of nonsense. it comes so naturally to her, after all.

sorry, wilhelm. you might have to pull her out of it and reminder her why they're here. they all need to wake up and go home. ]

[Whether she realizes it or not, River stands at the head of the doll splayed on the schoolyard ground. As Wilhelm waits for an answer that seems like it will never come, he watches as River slips into a trance. At first, it's little different from her normal — she often wears that wild-eyed look, as if she's seeing things that others can't, and that dreaminess draped about her, as if she's floating around on a current of thoughts.

But then she starts joining in the strange chorus of whispers and mumbles. We're not allowed. Come, let's go, let's play again. It crawls up his skin, leaving goosebumps behind. That's when he grabs River's shoulders and pulls her back from the circle.]

Hey, River, are you okay?

[ he literally and figuratively pulls her away from the magnetic draw of whatever strangeness is lurking about the doll, but for a moment, river's mind flashes back to a time when she would have dissipated into a cloud of smoke to avoid his touch. she's gotten much better about this in the months that have passed since waking up from the dream, flinching away less often and passively seeking out that physical contact when she holds someone's hand or gives them a hug.

but for a second, just before the thread of magic between her and the doll snaps, when her mind's eye is still open - it's like being right back there again, some instinct within her that feels like it should burst with nowhere to go. her body is a solid, tangible thing and wilhelm is real, right next to her and holding on like an anchor to reality ( or what they're supposed to accept is the "real" real world; she's still not entirely convinced ). ]

Wilhelm.

[ she breaks away from the circle completely, turning to face him as she blinks off the stupor. her right hand rises to clutch the sleeve of his shirt, one more anchor to hold her down as she tries to explain. ]

They're... asleep, or dreaming. Sleepwalking? Dreamwalking?

[ something like that. river blinks at him. ]

We have to wake them up. It's time to go home.

[With worry carved into his expression, he curls his hand around River's to give her something to hold onto other than his shirt. He gives a gentle squeeze to reassure her that she's not going anywhere. While he wants to ask her if she saw anything in that strange state, he decides to hold his questions until later.]

Okay. Let's make sure they get home safely.

[They can at least do that much for the children. How they're going to snap them out of whatever's got a hold on them, he has no idea.

Deeming it a lost cause to pry any solid information out of the kids, he decides to try the teacher. Wilhelm cants his head toward where the poor woman is pleading with the boy to go home and give his Eifstide doll a rest, then tugs River along with him. He handles introductions, explains why they've come. In exchange, he learns the names of the children lingering in the schoolyard and where they live. Luckily, he knows the town's layout pretty well.]

[ as his hand slips into hers, river smiles faintly in appreciation and holds on tight, following along as wilhelm seeks out the teacher. rather than paying attention to their conversation, though, she keeps observing the schoolyard and the strangeness of the children that have lingered rather than going home like the others.

the boy the teacher has been speaking to seems agitated or defensive, curled around his doll protectively, and he takes the opportunity of wilhelm's distraction to run away with it. river looks back to the circle of children and the doll on the ground, wondering if they need to take it away to break their fixation. she gently tugs on wilhelm's hand as they return to them. ]

Be careful. They won't be happy, if we touch it.

[ her gaze slides over to the doll, a blank sort of stare for only a moment before she looks back to wilhelm. ]

Maybe we should cover its eyes.

[He looks puzzled by River's suggestion, but he's not going to argue with her whimsical logic. There's no harm in trying it.]

I'll grab the doll. They can get mad at me.

[He squeezes her hand as a sort of good luck charm before detaching from her and, without preamble, plucking the saw-dust stuffed doll from the center of the circle. He makes sure to curl his fingers over the glass-bead eyes. Immediately, the children's distant, dreamy expressions crumple in agitation.

Give her back! demands one of the girls, stamping her foot. What will you do to her? asks a boy, his tone sharp with accusation. Wilhelm holds his empty hand up in a placating gesture.]

Nothing, I promise. She's just...going home. You guys can come with her.

[ the children practically start hissing and clawing to get the doll back the moment wilhelm touches it. river flinches as their panic lashes out, a genuine if misplaced concern for the doll's safety that seems all-consuming. they hardly even seem to notice her, their energy focused on getting the doll back from wilhelm, so she watches and contemplates it for a moment before interjecting. ]

Adair. Oisin. Jessalyn. Trystan.

[ she may not have been paying attention to their conversation but she heard their names, or maybe she can hear them in wilhelm's thoughts. but she says them in a careful deadpan and their eyes all lock onto her at once, seemingly on the same level of weird as she stares at them like she sees it too and understands.

she doesn't, not really, but that's not the point as she tries to think of what she can say to get through to them. ]

It's not time yet. The leaves are still changing colors. Gotta be good and go home, so you can stay together when you Roam.

[The children might as well be wielding pitchforks and torches the way they surround Wilhelm. He's half sure that he didn't tower over them, they'd try to wrestle the doll from his grip.

When River ensnares their attention, pronouncing each one's name as carefully as an incantation, he's about three seconds away from bolting for his bike and shoving the doll into one of his bag's many pockets. Fortunately, her words have a calming effect on the children. After they share a series of glances with each other, one of the girls — Jessalyn? — nods solemnly. All right, she concedes with a pout.]

Follow me.

[Now Wilhelm does return to his bike, which he's left standing by the gate into the schoolyard. As he walks, he tries to keep the doll tucked out of the children's sight, so as to avoid setting them off again. He slips it deep into his bag, where only he'll be able to retrieve it.]

Edited 2024-10-27 19:28 (UTC)

[ river blinks in surprise at their easy compliance ( she didn't really expect that to work ) and stays behind to watch as the kids follow wilhelm over to the bike. her heart seems to beat a little harder when notices the way their shadows move - the way they move when wilhelm's doesn't, shifting and twisting on the ground even when the children stop to ogle the bicycle curiously.

perhaps their hypnotic fixation on the doll has been broken, enough so that they don't notice when wilhelm shoves it into his bag, but there must be some kind of magic that still clings to them. river shoots wilhelm a furtive glance and decides to follow along behind them as they escort the children home. still looking for clues, in a sense, both in their strange company and the rest of nott in the late afternoon around them.

it's surprisingly uneventful. when they stop at the first child's house, as they say their oddly whispered farewells to each other, river stands beside wilhelm to watch them with wide eyes. ]

I was kidding earlier. About the ghosts.

[ but something in the way their shadows seem to dance in a separate of their own makes her wonder if she wasn't far off in some way. ]

[As Wilhelm leads their strange parade through the streets of Nott, he keeps an eye on the children. They chatter among themselves, crashing into one another to slip whispers into ears. They skip and jump and do normal kid things, but every once in a while someone's gaze snags on Wilhelm's bag on the back of the bicycle. Then they fall into silence into a spell, as if scheming how to get the doll back.

The boy, Adair, seems reluctant to part ways with his friends. Or with the doll. But he scurries into his house, slamming the door behind him.]

Are you sure about that?

[Wilhelm is half joking, but with so many strange things to account for it's hard to say. Where do the boundaries of magic lie? How far and wide do they stretch? Then they're onto the next one. Oisin and Jessalyn, brother and sister.]

[ the remaining children start walking again without waiting for their say so, although river briefly makes eye contact with jessalyn to nonverbally confirm that they are in fact taking the path toward their own house. all three of them seem to stare at wilhelm as they walk past, silent and intense for a long moment before they return to their whispered conversations.

river can't quite detect any malice in them but it's vaguely disconcerting nonetheless. it's almost like looking into a mirror; maybe this is a time to self-reflect...

no, that's nonsense. there are ghosts to catch! river continues to watch the kids closely as they both follow behind the group this time. ]

There's no scientific basis to the concept of spectral entities like ghosts or poltergeists, but reports of unexplained phenomena are pretty much universal across various cultures throughout recorded history. And in a world where everything is magic and anything is possible...

[ she trails off, giving a hapless shrug, and smiles at wilhelm. ]

I thought it would be fun to find out together. Not sure this is proof of anything, but look. Can you see them?

[ river isn't sure if he can, if it's only there by virtue of her third eye or because she looked into the doll. ( she doesn't discredit the notion it could be a figment of her own overactive mind either; it's not like she's a stranger to hallucinations. ) but she'll try to point it out to him anyway, where the shadows on the ground seem to move on their own behind the children that seem otherwise oblivious. ]

[And in a world where everything is magic and anything is possible... His thoughts stray, as they often do, back to Erik. When he imagined he was talking to his brother down in the hopeless darkness of the pit, and he'd clung to the possibility that whatever was left of Erik in death had somehow found him across the universe, it must have been a hallucination. He was on the brink of starvation, and spores were warping his mind.

But what about at the end of the summer, when the Heralds swept across the land? Was he really only imagining that Erik was there, or...? It hurts to wonder, the hope of it a double-edged sword.

River points to the children's shadows, stretched out behind them as the sun sinks toward the horizon, and Wilhelm looks but doesn't see what she wants him to see. He shakes his head.]

The shadows?

[All he sees is the children sneaking looks at his bag, as if making sure that he hasn't run off with their precious doll.]

[ she can tell when his thoughts drift away from the children and their quest, and suddenly it doesn't seem quite so fun anymore. try as he may to hide it, wilhelm wears his emotions on his sleeve, and there are always dark clouds that linger just above him even when he otherwise seems to be in good spirits.

river understands. well - she doesn't, not really. the world has torn her apart from simon more than once, leaving her with the despair of thinking she might never see him again, but she at least has the comfort of knowing that he's ( theoretically ) still alive out there somewhere in the 'verse.

rather, what she understands is the way that grief wrings wilhelm's heart until it feels like it may never beat again. it dulls his vision, shadows cast over an empty world without erik in it.

they've never talked about it. perhaps they ought to, someday. as it is, river's hand lowers slowly, her tone and expression falling to something more neutral even as her eyes remain on the children, distantly curious. ]

Yes. They whisper nonsense and disobey the light. The doll has one too. They're doing mischief - they're mischievous.

[ slowly, her gaze slides back to wilhelm and she weakly offers: ]

Maybe it's just "kids will be kids" instead of ghosts. Seems like they're having fun.

[He's not so sure. And from the sound of it, neither is River.]

Yeah, maybe. [He finds a chuckle.] It's the cool new thing. We're just too old to understand.

[The knotted problem of what's behind all of this twists in his thoughts as they finish shepherding the children home. Is it just mischief, or is the mischief a mask for something more sinister? By the time they drop the last girl off, and she skips to the door with the precious doll clutched to her chest, the sun is slanting low in the sky. Afternoon is beginning to sink into evening. Wilhelm looks at River.]

Do you want to keep looking for answers? Or should we head back?

[open/closed] but I ignore things and I move sideways

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