longlived: (Default)
Huey Laforet ([personal profile] longlived) wrote in [community profile] gocirclegogo2012-07-12 12:26 am

this didn't go as well as Eastwood's escape

A back alley in London. Body parts fall to the streets. Two hands. The forearms. Feet, legs, a hollowed torso in several pieces, internal organs. A human head. Each of the parts is light enough that a falcon could conceivably transport it from one place to another in its claws, and the blood is all clinging. Altogether, these parts would make a full human being--short one eye.

Huey has only done this once before, so it takes some time before his body reassembles. Like cells of an organism, like a well-coordinated swarm of ants, his flesh and bones and organs pull themselves back together, joints locking in and blood flowing once more. He is now as whole in body as he was that day he was made immortal, minus an eye and a ponytail. Huey Laforet looks around him, and in a calm, quiet voice, calls for his youngest daughter.

"Leeza? ...Hilton?"

But there is no answer, and the streets beyond don't sound like 1930s Chicago. Nor did this place seem to have any connection to Alcatraz. So. Something didn't go to plan. (Again.)

"Ah."

But at least he has the clothes he had asked the Poet to fetch. He may as well dress and go looking for answers. He places a hand over his empty eye socket and wishes Renee the best.

[blah blah spam or prose, I don't care which, apologies for his lack of social, you know the drill]
alethiological: (Charles Starkweather (d. 1959))

[personal profile] alethiological 2012-07-12 08:34 pm (UTC)(link)
"...Two." And it's said with no small amount of wariness, though it's obvious it's less from the 'grounding' comment. Protecting a friend, possibly? Not important enough to analyze probably, since a hand is removed to gesture at the wall near him. Even though it's not at that wall, and to a completely different one.

"The master of this domain actively keeps us trapped. However, the space immediately outside this reality is... dangerous." That word feels like a massive understatement. "Being kept inside might be safer. Your attitude might be better at handling the atmosphere."

A beat. "Assuming you're not one of those vivisection types."
alethiological: (Frederick Bywaters (d. 1923))

[personal profile] alethiological 2012-07-12 09:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Unfortunately, being a heart-reader does not mean being a mind-reader. So any idle thoughts or curiosities and his vaguely-concerning vivisection habits go unheard. It's why the pointed stare remains or beat or two after the question. At least before losing the energy to care and reverting back to the lazy state. "Not personally."

The tone says he's in no rush to fix that.

alethiological: (Jòn Rögnvaldsson (d. 1625))

[personal profile] alethiological 2012-07-12 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
"Its."

A bit miserable, but it's enough to pass as an answer. Good enough.
alethiological: (Thomas Howard (d. 1572))

[personal profile] alethiological 2012-07-13 12:05 am (UTC)(link)
"The forbidden knowledge didn't teach you that? ...Hah. You got ripped off."

Feel the amusement at your expense, Huey. Oh, stupid humans. Always hilarious. But the twit asked for an explanation, and as much as he hates explaining, it's to a person he doesn't have to spin up some elaborate metaphor for. Assuming, anyway. If he can't follow along, then sucks to be him. Right.

"All universes are made up of two realities, and the third that oversees all of them. The first reality is the one you stand in. The second is the reality only those no longer human can reach. The third is that allows travel between all other realities. ...And the one I can no longer reach."

Following? Hopefully. Not even a breath before continuing. "That aura of mine you spotted. Myself, and any others like myself, keep it restrained. No need to make others become like you. That thing does the same. A visit to the next layer, unprotected, confirms its presence easily."

How helpful! Now he can ask how to get to that reality, to confirm it himse--

"Too bad you'll never get there." What. Again, not given the chance to argue, on account of said angel has already turned away. "My spare room's already taken, so find a convent or something to help you out. If you say Wright sent you, the Christians'll give you a better deal. Just be sure to send in the proper paperwork. Blue or Black ink only. Multiple submissions are forbidden. Spelling errors, erasures, and scratch outs are similarly forbidden."

The voice of someone who has said this way too many times. Probably why he's waving once over his shoulder in a vague farewell. Or a 'good luck asshole'. Hard to say.