downside

[arenaria]

Voice lets her go.

Shell doesn't know how long it's been. She doesn't know where she is. She doesn't know how to get home, or if she has one.

She stands on Voice's doorstep. She blinks slowly at the brightness.

She walks in a random direction.

Downsiders aren't big on charity. It's not like it's going to kill her if she doesn't get help. It's not like she's unfamiliar with the effects of dehydration and hunger; Voice didn't always remember to take good care of the pet in the basement. Shell walks, and when she's tired she lies down on the ground and sleeps, and when she wakes up she walks, and every few days she curls up on the ground, waits to torch from thirst, and then gets up and goes on.

She doesn't count the number of times this happens. It doesn't matter.

She walks. She has nightmares. She walks.

On an unremarkable day on an unremarkable street after unremarkable stretches of years, she feels herself cross a telltale threshold of dizziness and headache: she cannot make significant forward progress towards Not Where She Is Currently Located until she torches or (less likely) someone gives her a lot of water. It's possible she'll be able to sleep through this torch. She sits. She leans on a wall. She should probably pick up the next sharp object she finds. Maybe a piece of broken glass will present itself. Then she can skip these parts.

She sits, and she closes her eyes, and she waits. If the buildings around her would ever have seemed familiar, they don't now.

Comments

[arenaria]

"It's..." She makes a vague gesture, and sits down at his table. "I never had to explain it before, what do you want to know? Everybody there is dead, there's that."

[manofmyword]

"Let's start with: what's the danger?"

[arenaria]

"Torturers," says Shell promptly. "Most of them if you catch their interest just hurt you for a few hours, maybe a day or two, and then let you go, but one kept me for much longer than that and I think that's why I can't remember anything. Even knowing how to fight doesn't do any good, they have this thing called torturers' control, they can make you move however they want unless you're a contractor. The one who kept me for all those years never actually touched me, not once."

She's had decades to process Voice, and while she would be very alarmed if anything about her situation suggested that Voice or anyone Voicelike was about to capture her again, she is not particularly alarmed to be merely describing the history. Not here, where it's safe; not when the door will lead back to her cluttered apartment, also relatively safe.

[manofmyword]

"I'm sorry," he murmurs sympathetically.

[arenaria]

"They let me go," Shell says. "And after I walked around for a while I even found someone I met before they got me, and he knew where I resided, so now I can go back there if I want. But I might stay here instead."

[manofmyword]

"Staying here's a good choice," he says. "Somebody I love got killed here once, but that's a special case."

[arenaria]

"Someone loved me once," sighs Shell dreamily, leaning her face on one hand.

[manofmyword]

He smiles softly.

"I'll bet they did."

[arenaria]

"I think so, anyway. I have an apartment. In Downside your house is how much you were mourned when you died. My apartment is little, so it's probably just one person, but it's - nice, so I think they must've loved me a lot. It's got a lot of clutter because I wasn't there to clear it out for, I think Strat said sixty or seventy years, but it's got pretty wallpaper and furniture and stuff. And anyway it's the only thing I remember from before for sure."

[manofmyword]

"Wouldja do me a favour?" he asks suddenly. "Open your door for me?"

[arenaria]

"Do you want to go to Downside?" asks Shell. "On purpose? Aren't you alive?"

[manofmyword]

He smiles crookedly. Not that there is another option.

"I won't stay long. Don't you worry about me."

[arenaria]

"Do you get doors to here whenever you want them?" she asks quizzically, but she gets up to go to the door.

[manofmyword]

"When I say 'not long'," he says as he follows, "I mean mmmaybe a couple minutes. Will you be a sweetheart and hold the door for me?"

[arenaria]

"I - sure, I suppose, if you just want a look at my apartment or something," says Shell.

One does not dwell in Downside without developing patience.

She holds the door for him.

[manofmyword]

As he steps through the door, he makes a very specific wish:

if there is a version of Nathan in this world, one who's met him, met him and loved him and died, he wants to be where that person is.

[temporal_affairs]

Timer's in bed with Eights, napping off a lovely bit of fornication.

[manofmyword]

"Awww," says the Joker.

[lookingforwardtoit]

"Do I know you?" inquires Eights.

[manofmyword]

"Nope!"

[temporal_affairs]

Nathan wakes up.

"...This is awkward," he says. "Did you die, babe? Eights," he adds, "this is the Joker, I might've mentioned him?"

[lookingforwardtoit]

"Ooh," she says. "Him."

[manofmyword]

"Milliways," he explains succinctly. "I came to see if you're okay. Are you okay? I'm glad you're not stuck on me, anyway, that would've been tragic."

[temporal_affairs]

"Not a vampire anymore," Nathan points out. "Bond was toast. I'm fine, this place isn't so bad, for me. Not overwhelmingly popular among some audiences, I guess, but me, I'm a Timer. But babe, I died a hundred years ago. I figured you never knew this place existed, how'd you find it?"

[manofmyword]

"Ran into somebody else I knew that died and went here," he explains. "One'a Goldie's alts. I didn't know you were here, or anything, but... well, the way she was talking, I wanted to check. See if you wanted a ride home."