revivalproject | Shadowplay

Entry tags:

Shadowplay

WHO: Celty and you
WHERE: Various locations
WHAT: What's a ~~dullahan~~ girl gotta do to relax around here?
WHEN: Mid to end of June
WARNINGS: Headless women.

I. Soaking in the Sun

The beach isn't a place she's come out to very often, and the few times she has, it's been to slip into the hot springs deep in the nearby caves for a soak. Today is different.

Vacations aren't a thing she's particularly done, mostly because of her personal circumstances. It's one thing to become an urban legend, it's another to actually be seen as she is and not cause people to scream and overreact in panic, usually with blunt weapons or a vehicle.

She's done some thinking since being stuck surrounded by white walls that were on occasion slathered in peanut butter to spell inane things. There are stranger people than she, and if she can accept that, then perhaps they can accept her. That decision alone has lifted some strange weight she'd never realized had been on her shoulders. It's kind of like when she decided to follow Shinra's suggestion and give up her search, back home.

And now she's here. She can only imagine Shinra pouting at missing out at seeing her at the beach. The thought is cute, although it also brings the ache of homesickness. Sighing, Celty sets the shadowy kickstand on her motorcycle before turning to the sun-dappled shade of the space she's chosen, near the edge of the treeline down the purple-sanded shores. With a flick of her wrist she forms a chair entirely of blackness, shadows twisting and shaping there on the sand. In another swirl, her black bodysuit shifts and resituates itself around her as a modest one-piece swimsuit. Lastly she removes her helmet, setting it beside the chair as she settles into it with a sigh before forming a big black 'straw' hat to drape over where one's head would have been.

This...isn't so bad, she thinks.

II. Drop-offs & Deliveries

Maybe you see the black motorcycle around Temba's streets, weaving expertly along to avoid less smooth or uncleared roads, or taking a chance on some of the more uneven ones. Regardless, it's clear that the Black Rider's been learning her way around the city, getting to know its roads. There's no rumble of an engine that accompanies these outings, nothing save the crunch of gravel under wheels or the occasional screech. Sometimes the sound of- what one might swear- a ghostly whinny, but surely it's something of the imagination, the wind, perhaps.

Celty makes good on her offer from a couple months prior, willing to help carry loads for people if they need assistance transporting something, or just want a lift from one end of the city to the other. They can either contact her on the network or flag her down if they see her.

III. Something Else?

(Got any ideas in particular? Choose your own adventure!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He moves over to the motorcycle immediately, scuttling past Celty and her weird conjured beach chairs with the same sort of manic energy he had when first approaching her. Some of that initial paranoia is still there, even, as Dustin pauses to look over his shoulders before kneeling down at the bike's side. But mostly the teenager just looks excited.

"This is part of the ensemble, right?" he asks, though considering how he immediately follows that up with more rapid-fire questions it's more of a statement, or perhaps a launching-off point. "A development on the horse or carriage from the myths I'm assuming. Was it always a motorcycle, or did it change over time as global technology advanced? Or did you change it intentionally?"

The chairs are banished with a sweep of her hand, black mist evaporating in the blink of an eye. Trailing after Dustin, Celty follows after him, stepping around to the side. She lifts a hand to set on the handlebars, and the teenager would hear the ghostly echo of a horse's nicker.

[I couldn't smuggle a horse and carriage aboard a ship. But I didn't want to leave him. Fortunately, I found an old motorcycle abandoned by the docks. It was foreign to me at the time, but obvious enough as a method of transportation.]

She offers the explanation once she finishes her typing.

Dustin has a hand out, gently running his fingers over the motorcycle's chassis, but flinches away quickly as it...makes a horse noise at him? Probably should have expected something weird like that. The interruption gets him to look up and read Celty's new message, at least, which answers a couple questions.

"So it's a...sort of transformation. A soul transfer?" Dustin resumes observing the motorcycle - with just his eyes this time - taking particular interest in the engine. "Is it--sorry. Is he sentient?"

[To whatever extent my powers allow. So far as I'm concerned, he is. I'm afraid I can't remember the how's of things. That knowledge is probably with my head.

His name is Shooter.]

It looks like a motorcycle, but none of its metal parts reflect any of the light that slips past the leafy canopy overhead. Save for that detail it looks like a standard, classic motorcycle, not the sleek sportier models.

Interestingly, the more Celty describes her motorcycle, the more Dustin's enthusiasm is replaced by awkwardness. People giving their rides names and gendered pronouns is hardly an unusual practice where he's from, but something about the bike being aware is distinctly unsettling to him - like he's ogling a stranger rather than a machine. Maybe he's remembering how unnerved Cal was about BD-1 being prodded at and continuing to channel his embarrassment about it. Regardless of the reason, Dustin backs off a little, nervously running a hand through his hair.

So he's quietly grateful when Celty offers him something else to focus on. "--Now that doesn't make sense to me," Dustin says with a quick shake of his head, brow furrowed. "You were able to kind of...'summon' Shooter to you in a new form when you had to leave him behind. But you couldn't do that with your own head? The helmet seems like it would make a good enough vessel for it."

It might be stranger for a motorcycle to roll on its own, turn its wheel and 'nudge' you, but that's what it does as it seems Celty doesn't have a problem with this kid, and the kid isn't screaming in terror at him.

Again Celty shakes her 'head' when Dustin asks more questions.

[He was already summoned. When I woke and found my head missing, but he was already there. I knew I could probably dismiss him, but I wasn't sure I'd know how to bring him back, and...I didn't want to be without him. So we found the motorcycle for him to use instead.]

Dustin flinches a little as the bike gently prods him. Mental disconnect is growing now. He can accept that Shooter is sentient, therefore it makes sense that he can make his own decisions and have some capacity to move on his own, but also...he's a motorcycle. And a horse? Do I treat him more like one or the other?

Tentatively, and with no small amount of confusion, Dustin reaches out his hand to pet the bike's front fender while he reads Celty's answer.

"Ah," he says, quirking his eyebrows. "So it might be possible, but you wouldn't know because...your previous memories are stored in your disembodied head. For some reason." Dustin frowns. "The concept of a soul and its memories being split like that is...well I can't exactly call it inconsistent. You're from another universe where dullahans are real. To say that the properties you adhere to are 'inconsistent' with my knowledge would be stating the obvious."

It's a strange thing, and yet there seems to be some contentment exuding from the motorcycle as Dustin gives it a pat.

Celty shrugs as the teenager tries to speak his thoughts in trying to make sense of the things she's told him. It's like listening to Shinra try to spin up theories about how she functioned.

[It doesn't make sense, but that's all I can figure. It's a part of me that's missing, and for whatever significance that is that it also holds parts of my memories, I don't know anything other than that they're just not there anymore.]

It's strange (and he feels a little ridiculous for reacting this way), but Shooter's contentment relaxes Dustin quite a bit. Can't believe I'm petting a motorcycle, he thinks ruefully, even as he more enthusiastically scratches at the ridges of the bike's front suspension. Whatever. I guess I can get used to this.

Dustin shrugs, though it's in response to Celty instead of his internal rationalization. "You can't know what you don't remember. I get that," he says earnestly--but doesn't elaborate. "Do you think it could have been destroyed? Otherwise I don't see why the Agrii couldn't have brought it here with you and Shooter. Unless they wanted to keep you in the dark deliberately." Dustin scoffs. "Never mind, that tracks. Of course they'd do that shit."

The suggestion is alarming, but Celty gives an emphatic shake of her helmet.

[No, it's still in Japan. Back home I can sense it to a degree, but not enough to be able to find it. I just know it's somewhere there.]

Would the Agrii do such a thing? She doubts they even know her full situation. It doesn't seem like they do too much research in whom they bring in, so long as key points ping whatever qualifications they have. Maybe the thing that brings them in is one giant search engine. ...that's a troubling thought.

It doesn't escape Dustin's notice that Celty didn't comment on the criticism he just made about the Agrii. Seemed quick to deflect some of the blame from them earlier, too, he considers, raising his eyebrows at the dullahan's tablet like he's expecting her to follow up. When she doesn't, he disengages with a slight shake of his head and a huff. ...Nah, she's hardly a sympathizer. Doesn't seem like she knows enough to be one anyway. Relax, Thatcher.

Abandoning that thread for now. "So you have a set of instincts, I guess," Dustin continues, though he seems to be only partially paying attention to the conversation as he resumes looking over Shooter, this time focusing in on signs of wear. "How much have those filled in? Did you know you were a dullahan when you woke up, for example? Or is it more like...specialized trade knowledge that you're missing?"

It's true enough. The most she's seen of the Agrii is their attempt at a celebration for what must have marked a new year in this place, but it wasn't enough for her to really decide one way or another that she trusted them. Even Tony had his reservations about them, and he'd apparently met them himself. If anything, Celty could only sympathize on the level of the loss of something deeply valued to them.

She looks at Dustin as the boy in turn studies Shooter. The motorcycle's obviously been well-cared for, but it's impossible to tell of any wear and tear for just how solid everything looks.

[I knew what I was. I know I can do things but I don't know if I ever knew how it worked exactly to be able to explain it. I can remember things from some centuries past. But it's difficult to say exactly what I can't remember without it being specifically brought up.]

Having migrated to the back end of the motorcycle, Dustin has to stand up to read Celty's next message. His inspection of the bike is inconclusive; Shooter could be in pristine condition because Celty knows how to take care of him well, but it could also be, you know. Fairy bullshit. A topic for later, he decides. There's something more important nagging at his mind right now.

"No problem - I've got one for you," Dustin says. Some of that earlier intensity returns to his gaze, but it's a bit different--narrower. Trying to fit Celty into the puzzle pieces he has from his world, even though he's pretty sure that won't work. "Your powers, with the smoke. How much do you understand about them?"

Celty shrugs. This is familiar territory at least, albeit something she's never really cared too much to try to figure out. Shinra's put forth his own theories in lieu of her refusing to offer any herself, not that he was here to speculate with the boy.

[I understand that I can do this or that with it. I couldn't say how it works exactly, or what it even is. I can make it solid or intangible at will.]

This is a frustratingly vague answer, but it fits with everything else Celty has told him so far. No memories, no details - just instincts. It'd be like trying to explain the gasp reflex based only on the instinct to breathe, without having ever been dunked in ice water. When it's relevant, it just happens.

So instead, Dustin changes tracks. "Have you seen anyone else here with powers like yours?" he asks, voice tense. This line of questioning is more what he's concerned about, anyway; learning about Celty's abilities is a curiosity, but this is a matter of safety.

No, she thinks, shaking her helmet then. That's easy enough to answer, and at least Celty seems certain of it.

[I'm sure I would sense anyone else like me, for one. Although if it's a matter of powers by similarity I wouldn't be able to say for sure. Not everyone is from Earth.

I haven't seen anyone else use anything, but I've been keeping my own abilities to myself for the most part as well.]

Dustin relaxes, but only slightly. It's hardly other dullahans that he's concerned about.

"Yeah, I was afraid of that," he murmurs, then quickly corrects himself. "--Not that you've been hiding your own abilities, I mean. That other people could've been doing the same. I'd be hard to stay hidden, but--"

Dustin cuts himself off with a terse frown, staring at the sand by his feet. Shades are a weird subject for him. On the one hand, he's never discussed them at length with anyone, even people on the message boards where he's had to dive for what scraps of details he does know about them. Dustin is acutely aware of how unhinged the concept would sound if he casually broached it with someone from his world. On the other hand, Celty is not from his world, and is in fact a being that is just as weird as Shades are. But years of self-conditioning and doubts quash any hope of fixating on the latter, and that's that.

"--Never mind," he says instead, trying to (badly) brush off his awkwardness with a shrug. "Just keep an eye out, would you? It's...important."

Uncertain of what to make of Dustin's concerns, she waits before tilting her 'head' when he finally dismisses it. She'd be frowning right now if she could. Lifting her tablet, Celty taps out her words before flipping the screen around to him again.

[If it's important than I'd like to know what I'm supposed to be watching out for, especially if it's dangerous.]

It only makes sense to her to have more information. And with the amount of strange things that happen here, she'd rather like to know if it's something she can deal with or if it's another thing to weather through.

"Of course you would." Dustin huffs a sigh, sliding a hand down his face. Her insistence seems to tap into his common sense, even if he's still a little embarrassed about it.

This can't be any weirder than what she's experienced already, he tells himself. Relax. Good grief.

"Ah...I guess I'll start with the name," Dustin ventures, steeling his nerves by folding his arms tightly across his chest. "Although it's colloquial, so I can't imagine you've--whatever, not important. Shades? Ring a bell?"

She'd been swarmed by people possessed by a demon sword whose desire was to be loved, so yeah, Celty's scale of weird is pretty up there.

So she waits, glad she doesn't have to press much more. She doesn't mind being asked to keep an eye out for things, but just because she can't die doesn't mean she cares to throw herself headlong into something dangerous.

Shades... Perhaps used in the slang, but Celty doubts it's the same thing as what Dustin's probably talking about. She shakes her head. Easier to keep it simple.

This answer is exactly what he was expecting, but it doesn't stop Dustin from frowning anyway. Wouldn't it be so much easier if she just knew? Now he has to give voice to the things that have caused him so much irrational fear for so long, and he doesn't even know that much about them himself. The concept is daunting.

"Right." Dustin absently kneads the mangled bridge of his nose. "It's an informal term. General consensus is that Shades are connected to something called the 'Astral.' There's...less agreement on what that means. Mostly pseudo-scientific nonsense that can't be directly tested or replicated. Whatever it is, it's some kind of alternate plane of existence - like a parallel dimension. But it's fundamentally incompatible with humans.

"Some people can kind of...touch it, I guess. Borrow from it?" He shrugs. "Different descriptions depending on who you talk to. Anyway, Shades--they have one foot in it, and it rips them apart, mentally and physically. They become mostly incorporeal and can only tangentially interact with the rest of the world, usually by hiding in people's shadows and manipulating them. The dissonance also drives them completely insane."

Dustin pauses in his lecture to see if Celty has any input. It's A Lot.

It makes a lot more sense than a lot of the things her roommate would put forth, anyway. Sure, there are details that don't make too much sense but Celty can understand that there is some sort of other plane of existence and these Shades have bridged it. That insanity is a factor into exposure with the things hardly surprises her. Maybe it's a wonder she hasn't just gone insane being without a part of herself for so long.

[Are they naturally threatening? Or is it only those that find a host as an outlet?]

"Yes."

The answer is given without hesitation and with maybe more force than is strictly required. Dustin's face is set with absolute conviction.

"It doesn't matter if they've found an outlet or not," he continues, a strained tinge to his voice. "They don't see the world the same way we--" A beat and a quick shake of the head. "--the same way humans do. 'People's souls are like beacons in a storm. Shades seek them out because they're drowning, and they'll take as many people down with them as they can.'"

A quote, lifted directly from an episode of his father's show. Jacob Silver's narration was always a bit too flowery for Dustin's tastes, but the man definitely knew what he was talking about, and Dustin figures the embellishments made his producers happy anyway.

Flowery it may be, but it does make for a clearer image. It's also a bit chilling. Celty gives a little shiver.

[Do the people that are manipulated by these Shades look any different?]

She figures it's a fair question. If it's subtle and restricted to something like her shadows then it'd be more difficult to keep an eye out for, but something to be aware of nevertheless.

Dustin shakes his head again. "Not any documentation to suggest they do--they wouldn't live long enough to study anyway," he elaborates with a scowl. "Finding victim patterns is difficult, too. Since Shades can manifest a variety of abilities from the Astral, they can leverage those in unique ways to torment and kill people. Some of them will favor those powers, others will favor soul-stealing. Really annoyingly unpredictable."

Shadowplay

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