deercountry | (closed) can't see you through the snow-blind

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(closed) can't see you through the snow-blind

Who: The Operator and Luna Lovegood
What: The Operator seeks shelter with a stranger during a blizzard.
When: February 9th
Where: Luna's townhouse in Gaze

[ Over the past few weeks, the Operator has spent the majority of their days in the Archaic Archives. There is so much to learn about this place, so much to unravel, and the very design of the Archives seems to encourage getting lost amongst its volumes for hours at a time. They’ve learned of the Pthumerians, the blood types, the professions that maintain this world: a society and history far, far removed from that of their home.

Like every other day of their search, they leave with more questions than answers and spend the long walk back to the School of Mutter turning them over in their head. So distracted are they that they barely take notice when the snow and wind begin to pick up around them. Even now, they aren’t used to existing in a body that’s vulnerable to something as trivial as weather. Thus, by the time they start to realize that this particular turn might actually be dangerous, it’s already too late.

The snow erases their surroundings, shrinking the world around them to a few scant feet in front of their face. The Operator does their best to remain calm, simply trudging forward as best they can. They’re sure they haven’t been turned around. If they keep heading in the same direction, they’ll hit some sort of structure eventually.

Indeed, they only manage like this for a few minutes before they stumble over something—a something that happens to be furry and mobile and that barks at them as they pick themselves up. ]

Ugh. [ The Operator dusts snow from their clothes, staring warily at the creature even as it wags its tail back at them. They raise a hand, palm out, in case it decides to attack. ] Good kubrow, [ they murmur, voice slow and appeasing. ] Nice kubrow…

[ The dog barks again and bounds over the snow away from the Operator. They breathe a sigh of relief—but the dog isn’t running away. Instead, it stops at a distance of a few meters from and looks back expectantly. ]

You… [ The Operator cocks their head. ] You want me to follow you?

[ The dog barks something that sounds an awful lot like an affirmative. The Operator hesitates for a moment—and then cautiously follows, letting the dog lead them bound by bound through the snow. At least it seems to know where it’s going, which is more than the Operator can say for themself.

It’s a long, blisteringly cold walk through the snow, but eventually, they arrive… somewhere. The Operator doesn’t recognize the tall, boxy house with a blue door, but the dog evidently does. It races ahead of the Operator at the sight of it and immediately begins pawing at the door’s surface, its scratching punctuated by sharp barking. The Operator waits a few feet away, shivering with arms wrapped tightly around them. They’re harder to kill than your average human child by hypothermia or otherwise, but even they aren’t sure how long they can keep walking around in this weather before they’re forced to stop. They’ll just have to hope that someone is actually in the house—and that whoever it is will be kind enough to let them in. ]

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[ Her home had once been a safe haven in the dying days of Deerington; offering solace to Sleepers caught out, lost in the destruction of the town. A place to sleep, to stay, to find something to eat — to be safe. It seemed apt, considering the size of the house Luna had otherwise lived alone in. And with her magic, she could properly protect the place with spells, maintain levels of food and water, make adjustments to accommodate people. It often saw a mixture of people most days; some staying for a little while, or permanently in Peter's case. Others just having some short respite from the final horrors before they continued on their way.

It made sense to continue that in Trench; so much is unknown about the city. Sleepers need all the help they can get. She'd told Ruby she'd gladly offer her home as a safe house here. Make it known as a place where Sleepers can go if needed. Particularly for nights like these.

The wind picks up so quickly, howls through the house; old wood creaks and windows rattle a little. But the house stands firm. She has the fire roaring in the living room, keeping the place warm while she works in the kitchen on some soup: something hearty, plenty of vegetables. It's Helga who hears the door, the barking and scratching on the other side; the enormous wolf-dog barks, calling for her owner and Luna hurries, wand in hand to answer.

The door flies open with a flurry, snow blowing inwards with the howl of wind. Luna holds the door best she can, pressing her fully bodyweight against it. She peers out into the dark, eyes wide at the sight of one of the Dog Keeper's dogs and then behind them, a child shuddering in the cold. The dog doesn't want to come inside, but tries to usher the child in — they have plenty of work to do, after all. ]

Oh—! [ She gasps and reaches out with one hand, beckoning them in. What in Merlin's name are they doing out in this—? ] Come inside, quickly—!

[ The Operator doesn't need to be told twice. They hurry towards the open door, pausing only briefly on the threshold to turn back towards the dog and offer a clumsy half-bow of thanks. Then they step hastily inside, moving as far away from the door as they can within the narrow foyer. The warmth of the house is an almost painful shock after the freezing cold outside and their ears still ring from the howling wind.

They stand there, arms still wrapped around themself and shivering as they take in their surroundings and the woman who had beckoned them inside. The adrenaline that had been pushing them forward ebbs quickly, leaving them light-headed. It takes a few seconds for them to find their voice. ]

Thank you, [ they mumble, offering a deep bow to her as well. The world lurches around them as they do and they reach for a nearby end table to steady themself as they straighten. They have an unpleasant flashback to their arrival here, when they'd been spat out onto the sand from the freezing ocean. At least now they don't need to be carried. Yet. ]

I'm sorry. I—I think I need to sit down.

[ Luna fights to shut the door, pushing with all her might against the wind to close it. They're pretty strong ones; it's going to be quite an awful night, she thinks. But she manages, slightly breathless in face of the winds and exertion. There's a brief moment of quiet from her as she takes them in: much younger than her by a first glance, looks like. Golden-eyed, and dressed quite strangely. This isn't attire she's seen before, neither like Deerington nor Trench's fashions. Perhaps a new Sleeper. She smiles politely at the bow but it slips as soon as they falter and she moves quickly into action without much fuss. ]

It's alright. Here, this way. [ She gently guides them by the shoulders, coaxing them out of the hallway and into the warmth of the living room. With as much care as she can, she moves the child towards one of the sofas close to the fire, encouraging them to sit. Helga watches with interest from the doorway, head tilting to the side. ]

Let's get you warmed up. [ She raises her wand, flicking it in one direction. ] Accio blankets.

[ There's the tiniest pause, Luna waiting expectantly, turning the same way she flicked her wand. Blankets zoom into view through the air and she catches them with both hands. With a little smile, she starts unfolding them and then quickly gets to work wrapping them around their shoulders. ]

You're very lucky one of the Delivery Dogs found you. They're wonderful.

[ The Operator lets themself be shepherded to another room, this one even warmer than the last. It's a far cry from the austere simplicity of Junia's stone church in Cassandra, full of little adornments and spots of color. The Operator's eyes move slowly around the room, pacing themself after the searing whiteness of the blizzard outside.

The fullness of their exhaustion hits them as soon as they sit down. Their limbs feel like anchors, sinking them into the sofa. If they had the energy for it, they might feel embarrassed at just how weak they must seem now. They're supposed to be a warrior, an invincible Tenno. But the truth is, this body of theirs is not accustomed to being pushed past its limits. At home, the only time it would see combat would be in brief, brilliant flashes, flickering into shape just long enough for a quick volley of Void fire before vanishing once more. At all other times, it would be encased in its somatic pod or wandering the familiar, temperature-controlled rooms of their Orbiter, venturing out only into safe, secret places in the company of those they trust. This body is not so much a coddled child as it is a heart in a ribcage—but it is a weakness all the same.

Their eyes turn back towards the woman, watching as she waves a stick in the air and says something about blankets. They are puzzled for a moment—and then their eyes widen in astonishment as the blankets she had requested soar through the air like a condroc into her waiting hands. ]

How—

[ They blink as she begins to tuck the blanket around their shoulders, suddenly finding that they aren't nearly as concerned about how the blankets had come to be here as they are with the warmth they provide. Numb fingers do what they can to pull them even more tightly around themself. Preoccupied as they are, it's a few seconds before they process the woman's words. ]

Delivery Dogs? [ they repeat. There's something familiar about the phrase. They must have read something about them in the Archive, though they hadn't drawn the connection until now. ] They help people, don't they? I... thought it was a wild kubrow at first.

[ Not their finest moment, they realize now. The woman is right: they're lucky to be alive. ]

Oh, that— I'm a witch. I have magic. [ Even now, it still surprises her that people find the concept of magic to be something completely new. It likely comes with the fact she's been here amongst people from different worlds for so long, that everyone's quite used to it by now.

She takes a couple of moments to continue fussing, wrapping additional blankets about their shoulders, placing a couple on their lap and tucking them in. That, combined with the fire, should be enough, she thinks. And she can fix them something warm to eat or drink. Good thing she's already got some soup on the go. ]

Yes, they belong to the Dog Keeper. [ They might have seen that name come up. ] He's a very good person, he's always helped Sleepers and he trains his dogs to do the same. You might have had people call him 'Doug'.

[ It's not his real name, more one that was given to him by Sleepers back in Deerington. He doesn't seem to mind the name, and has never really corrected them or given anyone his actual name. Luna should really go down to the Wayward Station sometime to pay him a visit.

There's a look of interest at the mention of 'wild kubrow'; she's always interested in learning about other words, especially the creatures. ]

A kind of canine creature from your world? [ She shrugs easily, offering them a kind look. Nothing to worry about, being wary of a strange creature that comes out of nowhere. It's perhaps wise to be cautious sometimes. ] You must be new in this place, I take it?

[ "Magic" isn't a completely unknown term to the Operator. Indeed, sometimes Ordis refers to their own abilities as "Tenno magic." But the word has always been used with a mild sense of embarrassment—it isn't so much a precise concept as it is an admission that one doesn't understand enough to call it something else.

...Well, the Operator doesn't understand how a wooden stick can make a bundle of blankets fly. So "magic" it is. ]

Yes, [ they answer. To both counts. ] I only got here a few weeks ago. It's... very different from where I was before.

[ Far fewer things trying to kill them, for one thing. Take the wildlife, for example. ]

Where I'm from, kubrows only live on Earth. And only the most vicious survive there. [ The Operator has fought off enough packs of them to know. Their keen sense of smell and immediate hostility to anything unfamiliar within their territory makes them a constant annoyance. Dogs on the other hand... the Operator is familiar with them as a historical concept, not as a flesh and blood animal. They know that dogs were smaller than kubrows, more docile, and less effective in battle. For those reasons, "dog" is more often than not used as an insult in the Operator's time, an invective for the overly servile and cowardly. They should know; they've used it as such before.

Now, their head turns towards the animal that had followed them into the house—a furry, four-legged creature that roughly resembles the Delivery Dog that had brought them here. Their host's pet, they presume. The Operator points at it. ]

That's a dog, too, isn't it?

[ Luna nods in understanding. It's certainly quite different to a lot of places, jarring to most people who come here. There's admittedly parts of this place that feel familiar to her, and she feels quite lucky with that. But she knows fine well she's likely in a small few. ]

Living here can be quite difficult and it takes a little getting used to. But people manage. And we're here to help one another, too.

[ They idea is not just to survive, but to live. ]

Helga's a dog, yes. Although a bit different from regular dogs. [ Luna turns her head to look at the animal and makes a slight motion with her head to call her. Helga understands, carefully moving to Luna's side. She reaches about half the height of Luna, more like some giant wolf dog than a regular dog. ] She was made within the dream. Dogs aren't meant to be as big as she is; and she can understand speech perfectly.

[ There's also the fact when she bites someone it drives them into a slow madness that ultimately leads to death, but ah— details. She's a sweetheart really. Luna pets Helga's head with a small smile. ]

She also really like pets. [ Which is absolutely permission to pet Helga, if they like. ]

It's not often I get to meet someone who isn't from Earth. [ They don't speak as if they're from there, considering their description of kubrows. ] Usually people are from some variation of it.

[ The Operator watches the animal approach as the woman speaks, noting the differences in appearance. It's the size of a large kubrow, but with a longer snout and without the horn-like protrusion on its nose. The Operator wonders how it would fare against a kubrow—dogs are supposedly more docile, but this one looks just as formidable as any of its counterparts on Earth. ]

Hello, [ the Operator says softly as the dog comes closer. ] It's nice to meet you. [ The woman had said that she understands speech after all. Cautiously, they reach out to stroke the creature's head. Its fur is thicker than a kubrow's, too, less patchy.

They pull their hand away, a slight smile on their face. They wonder what Biz would say about such a creature. Or Master Teasonai. ]

People live all over the solar system where I'm from. I even have some friends from Earth.

[ They are careful to steer the conversation away from where they're from, futile as that may be. They don't like to admit that they don't know. ]

Is that where you're from?

[ Helga would certainly give up a good fight; she's incredibly loyal to Luna. So if any kubrows dared to come for her, Helga would certainly be throwing herself into that particular fight.

Helga utters a soft whine, her tag wagging at being petted. Hello, strange Sleeper-child! She's very pleased, and Luna smiles brightly. Helga deserves so many pets, she's an excellent girl. ]

Oh, how curious—! Do they look like Humans, or are there all sorts? [ She knows Maul, and Scorpia — who despite having difference, still look quite Human. And then there's this child, who looks relatively Human, too. She's quite excited to know more, really. ]

I'm from Earth, yes. In my universe, it's yet to be proven of life outside Earth. Although I've always believed there was something, or someone else out there. I mean, the universe is something so big, after all.

[ There has to be others. But certainly the multiverses all gathering in this place has been a nice way of being proven right. ]

We study the stars, and Muggles have managed to go to the Moon, back home. But that's it, as far I know.

Most of them are human. Except for the Cephalons. Most of them choose to look like geometric light projections. [ They make a shape with their fingers—a square tilted onto its side. ] My ship's Cephalon—Cephalon Ordis—looks like this.

[ If only Ordis could see them now. No doubt he'd be fretting up a storm about their close call with the blizzard. The Operator misses him terribly, but perhaps it's for the best that he's not in Trench. He's always so afraid for them when they venture out in this body; he'd be beside himself knowing that it's the only one they have here. ]

Life on other planets wasn't really proven where I'm from either—it was spread to them. I don't know if there's any life there that can't trace its origin back to Earth. To humans.

[ There's only one being that might have always existed independently of humanity. And the Operator doesn't like to talk about him.

They nod when the woman mentions the Earth's moon—Lua, to them—but one word she had said stands out. ]

What are Muggles?

So they can choose to look like anything, if they wanted to? [ How interesting! She tilts her head as they form the shape with their hands, faintly amused. It's.. weirdly what Paimon looks like, when not in a host. Although he's more like a... fluid ball of light. ]

Oh, I see! Still, a great deal further afield than people in my universe. [ If people are living out on other planets across the universe, then it's a huge step from the efforts into the galaxies in her time. Trips to the moon seem much more like simply stepping into one's front garden. Now, it seems, they're travelling to other countries. It's very exciting! ]

You must be a good amount of time in the future, I imagine then. [ There's a smidge of sympathy there in her expression. This certainly must be a bit of a culture shock for them in comparison. The technology is quite good here, but there's a lot that's dated.

—oh! Muggles! Yes: ]

Non-magical people. It's what we call them, there's a couple of other names too. But 'Muggle' is what people in my country use.

I suppose they could, [ the Operator answers, though their dubious tone makes it clear that they've never actually seen such an exception. They know all too well that Cephalons have their reasons to avoid humanoid projections—if Ordis is any indication, such memories are best left undisturbed.

Her comment about the future gets a wry smile from them, the shrug of their slight shoulders all but hidden under the layers of blankets on top of them. Perhaps they're from the future from the perspective of Trench or the woman's homeworld, but it's always been the present to them. ]

So, muggles are people who can't do what you did with, um. The stick. [ They imitate the motion she'd made with it, miming flicking a wand in the air. ] What do you call the people who can do that?

Wand. [ She gently corrects with a little smile. ] But yes, you're quite right. They can't use this at all, it won't do anything because they don't have any magic in their blood.

[ She holds her wand up for them to get a better look. It's quite unassuming, really. A stick is a fair description, although there's some slightly intricate carving on the handle of it — the end of it shaped like closed flower bloom. ]

Witch or wizard, depending on the person. Wizardkind for the general people. [ Wizard kind of works for everyone, but Luna prefers Witch. There's a faint smile of amusement before she sticks out her free hand for them to shake. ]

I'm Luna.

[ The Operator nods in seeming understanding when the woman mentions the wand responding to "magic in their blood." It is like Orokin technology and Kuva, then—the Old Blood that granted them their tainted immortality. At least whatever power lies in the woman's blood seems far more benign.

They hesitate for just a moment when she sticks out a hand—and then reach out to shake it. ]

It's nice to meet you, Luna, [ they say, bowing their head again. ] I'm called 'Tenno.'

[ Among many, many other titles and aliases. They do their best not to dwell on names. The magic Luna had spoken about before is a much more appealing topic to them and so they point to the wand again. ]

What else can it do? [ they ask. A slight smile tugs at their lips. ] Aside from summon blankets.

[ It's certainly benign. It does give her slight physiological differences to regular and non-magical Humans, but other than that she supposes the magic within her is neutral until it's channelled into spellwork.

There's a polite little nod as they introduce themselves. Tenno. Not a name she's ever heard before. But people have all sorts of interesting names these days. Her eyebrows raise at the question before she looks amused. ]

Oh, all sorts of things, really. I suppose it's easiest to ask what I'm unable to do. [ Magic does have it's own laws, after all. Not being able to create food from nothing at all, bringing those from the dead back to life. Those sorts of things. ] I can do a little bit of everything: charm-work, transfiguration, defensive magic, offensive magic. Lots of things—!

[ If any of those might catch their interest. ]

[ Most of the magic Luna mentions, the Operator can figure out by name alone. Transfiguration is turning something into something else—transmutation in their own world. Defensive and offensive magic are self-explanatory. There's only one term that escapes the Operator. ]

What's charm-work?

Charms are defined as spellwork that adds the properties of an object or person it's being cast upon, but it's quite a broad field. [ It changes what something does, rather than what it is. Not to mention some dark magic could be classed as charm-work.

She looks around, looking for something to show as an example. Spying a book on the coffee table, one she was reading before her visitor arrived, she collects it to use it. Kneeling down on the floor before them, she places the book down between the two of them and points her wand at it. ]

Diminuendo. [ A delicate white jet of light appears from nowhere, wraps itself about the book, and with a little shudder — the books shrinks down to no bigger than a match box. Luna smiles, picking up the now tiny book to show it to them. ]

As an example. Fetching the towels is actually use of the Summoning Charm.

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(closed) can't see you through the snow-blind

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