Falias, Finias Chapter Two
Suggested Theme:
Main Theme- Isolation by Joy Division
Kazdan discovers a neat little trick, or rather uncovers another rule, about porting his code to Chaotic. You can bring anything (well, he hasn't tried to bring weapons or booze) you want to Chaotic; however, you can't take anything out. He found this out when he first returned to Earth. He spent a dizzying thirty minutes processing what happened to him in Perim before porting right back to Chaotic. Unfortunately, he realized that he brought his mop with him (he was mopping up the kitchen floor) to the PortCourt. He then ported back to Earth to return the mop, but the mop didn't return.
Now, Kazdan knows that he either needs to get Dractyl scales (which he doesn't know where he could possibly find those) or pond scum for H'earring so he can get that tour. However, H'earring didn't specify if the pond scum needed to be from the UnderWorld; instead of spending fruitless hours of wandering the UnderWorld, he has decided to simply take advantage of the little Scanner loophole and just get some pond scum from the local park.
He waits until about four in the morning to go get the pond scum. He could've gone that night after his first foray into Chaotic, but he was frankly tired from cleaning the house, although he never quite finished his mopping, and he just wanted to make his dinner. He didn't really sleep well that night; he was too excited from his time from Perim, from actually meeting a Creature. For a chance to explore the UnderWorld properly.
He decides to don the clothes from his closet. The clothes from his closet are just baggy green shirts, cargo pants, and decent hiking boots; these are clothes that his mom bought in bulk for him. He only wears these clothes when his mom is home or when he has to get himself dirty; his usual attire resides in his armoire and belonged to his dad. He decides to use his clunky, black rain boots because he doesn't want to ruin his hiking boots. He also dons a pair of black rubber gloves that he normally used to clean the gutters with.
He slips out of his home and it only takes him about twenty minutes of speed walking to reach his destination; the park is deserted of the human populace at this time which makes it so much easier for him to scoop up the pond scum into his garbage bag. He knows most of what the scoops into the bag is just green water with barely solidified pond scum, but he figures this is better than nothing. He hopes that H'earring will accept it.
When Kazdan ports to the UnderWorld, he realizes that he's in an entirely different spot than the last time he was here. He groans inwardly; apparently, as he just discovered, you do not end up in the same spot you ported to. He's sleep-deprived, wearing clothes he doesn't like, and he's lugging around a garbage bag of pond scum. He hopes that the pond scum (which is mostly water) doesn't evaporate from the heat in the UnderWorld.
"It wasn't this hot yesterday and that was in the afternoon! Maybe, the mornings are always this muggy?" Kazdan slips into his habit of talking out loud to himself; he tends to do this when he's alone and as far as he could tell he sees no one around. But then again, UnderWorlders are known for being sneaky, maybe not as sneaky as Mipedians, but they are supposed to be masters of deceptions.
"Shit, H'earring told me to get to that 'cathedral' at noon…it'll probably take me longer to find the place!" Kazdan curses at his own eagerness for getting the pond scum when he should've made some kind of map or gathered information from the PortCourt beforehand. He could port back to Chaotic, but he's afraid that he'll lose his bag of pond scum. In the end, he decides it would be best to just wander and hope for the best.
He wanders through the cobblestone streets and gazes at the buildings surrounding him, hoping for some telltale signs of familiarity. Aside from rusting metal scraps, crumbling buildings, and other almost medieval-dystopian features litter the landscape. Actually, if Kazdan had to bluntly describe UnderWorld City, it looked like a dump, especially in comparison to Earth. He's pretty certain that the city makes some third-world countries look good, if only for a split second.
He turns another unrecognizable corner to find at least one building worth remembering. The building has a door as red as Chaor and looks like a raggedy apartment that an urban hobbit would live in; it's tucked between two dirty, limestone buildings like a burrow. He is almost mildly impressed that the tiny building sports a balcony with rickety shutters. The red door with a golden-ring knocker swings open and out comes H'earring.
"So that's what I was smelling!" Kazdan nearly falls to the ground when H'earring rushes him and climbs him like a tree. He flinches and cringes at being touched; for him, being touched, especially if the touch is harmless in nature, is exceedingly rare. Touch usually signifies pain for him, either physically or emotionally. Even when his mom kisses his cheek, whenever she's about to go back to Boston, he has to force himself not to recoil in revulsion. And he actually loves his mom….or at least, as much as he's able to.
"H'earring, please, stop!" Kazdan hears his voice cracking and crumbling like the buildings around him; he feels his cheeks flush in hot embarrassment at his weakness. God, I would be the worst UnderWorlder in Perim! What UnderWorlder almost cries at being touched? He trembles and feels H'earring finally getting off of his body. He doesn't look at H'earring; he doesn't want to see the pity in the Creature's eyes that he knows must be there.
"So…I've got to go to Chaor's Castle to see if I can score some ingredients for dinner tonight; we can start your tour there. But, first, I'll just store this snack inside for later." Kazdan gives H'earring the garbage bag; he still refuses to look at H'earring as he returns to his house. He patiently waits for H'earring to come back; he only sees tufts of red and green skin that signal that H'earring is walking away from him. Kazdan follows him silently like a terrified little boy.
Kazdan is barely containing his excitement; he's grinning like a madman. He feels like every step he takes makes his blood roar happily; there's a chance that he'll meet Chaor. After all, the Location is called Chaor's Castle. Does that necessarily guarantee he'll see Chaor? No, but he wants to be hopeful. He really wants to believe that he'll meet his hero. Does he expect his hero to be overjoyed to see him? Hell no, but he figures that Chaor won't reject his praises to the mighty warrior, so that'll be a start.
Chaor's Castle is easily the most impressive (at least, by his bias opinion) Location in UnderWorld City. It's a collection of spires and natural walls. The spires are made of a coppery metal that almost shines like tarnish gold against the proverbial red of the UnderWorld; the spires' tops are odd assortment of clashing styles like some look like medieval maces and others look like spikes from Chaor's back. The natural walls look like they sprung up from the volcanic ground and were then molded by the former conqueror kings (and maybe some queens) of the UnderWorld; some of the walls look pinkish and puckered like newborn scars.
Of course, Kazdan scans the Location; he only has a scan of UnderWorld City, not of Chaor's Castle itself. He's pretty certain that this will be the only way for him to get a piece of this Location. He also notices that H'earring does not take the front door route; instead, they walk for about five minutes to reach the back of the castle. He has a feeling, by the look of the intimidating Crimson Guard knockoffs, that they are not worthy of going through the front door. Man, I wanted to check out the great hall and the throneroom. He pouts inwardly, not wanting to garner any response from the guards.
The back entrance is guarded but somehow seems less odious; although, the fresh smell of copper is a bit alarming to Kazdan. They pause in front of the guards and H'earring briefly talks to one of them before the guards let them go through the back gate. The guards do not spare either of them a glance, not even for the wimpy human.
"Okay, don't say anything for the next couple of minutes. Most Creatures don't like humans especially the talkative ones. And believe me, the kitchen mistress hates mouthy humans. Pretend you're mute." Kazdan gives H'earring a withering look that consists of a frown and arching his eyebrows. He wants to sarcastically inform the mutant rabbit that he has gone a whole month without talking before (he tested it out back in seventh grade; none of his teachers or classmates reacted to his month-long silence) and hasn't even utter a word in the past twenty minutes. H'earring frowns back at him and then shrugs his annoyance off.
It takes them about five minutes, where their slow walking became speed walking and then finally jogging, to reach the backdoor to the kitchens. H'earring knocks on the red-stained, Kazdan has finally found the source of the copper smell, wooden door. Kazdan almost offers H'earring to lift him up so he can use the gaudy, gold doorknocker; however, his kind offer dies at the screeching sound of the door being opened.
"You always have to be on time, don't ya, H'earring?" A woman, or at least he presumes so if her ample breasts were anything to go by, leers at H'earring. She is massive in height and weight, and also green like a Martian whale. She is wearing a raggedy brown dress with an apron stained with so much red; Kazdan is pretty certain that she's the cause for the blood on the door. He is also certain that she must be related to Dardemus.
"Can't resist seeing your golden smile, gives me another reason to wake up in the morning." H'earring coos saccharinely. Kazdan resists the urge to gag visibly; he hates their flirting. In fact, he hates seeing people, human or non-human, flirting; flirting reminds him of his lacking social décor and how unattractive he is. God, it's sad when a radioactive-mutated rabbit can actually attract someone unlike me. Kazdan grimaces and then quickly reverts back to his apathy; he hopes that the kitchen mistress didn't notice.
"What's the little Troubadour doing with ya?" The kitchen mistress glares at Kazdan; his hopes are dashed once again.
"Oh, I promised him a tour of the city if he got me some snacks. Maybe, you and I can share the snacks together later." H'earring adds a sultry wink. The kitchen mistress bats her yellow-fever eyes. Once again, Kazdan wants to gag, but this time he retains his apathy successfully.
"Well, I can't let this bag of bones wander the castle; Lord Chaor is already in a right snit over a failed raid. Then again, Lord Chaor could always use a new punching bag; I would kill for a break from his stomping and shaking up the castle. Then again, he'll blame me and we won't be able have our date later." Kazdan inwardly throws up in his mind when the kitchen mistress sticks out her arrow-shaped tongue and swipes suggestively over her yellowing shark teeth.
WAH!
Kazdan's apathy is replaced with shock; he hears a baby coming somewhere inside. His mind runs rampant at the baby's wail. Oh God, is that baby an ingredient? Is that baby going to be chopped up and fed to Chaor like Pelops? Does Chaor eat babies? Do UnderWorlders eat babies? Fuck, what if H'earring double crosses me and offers me up to this ogress for her disgusting banquet for Chaor?! He feels his face drain of color and his stomach tightening. The urge to port out grows with every passing second.
"Shit, the sickly babe woke up. Nivenna told me that sleeping draught should've kept the babe asleep for half the day. Maybe, the babe's a lot tougher than he looks. Or Lord Chaor trashing his training room is what did it." The kitchen mistress and H'earring flinch when the mysterious baby lets out another weak but rippling wail. Kazdan is twitching; his instincts are screaming at him to go inside and comfort the baby. The baby is crying for attention!
"Look at that, the twiggy human actually has intensity in his body; well, some. Maybe, a human can actually be of some use, while you can help me search for some Harpy lard in the pantry." Kazdan nearly trips over H'earring to get inside. The kitchen is the literal Hell's kitchen. He sees a table covered in blood and buckets filled with pink entrails and multicolored eyeballs. He sees a massive stove spitting out blue-gas flames; he sees an almost cauldron-size, blacken pot frothing with brown, greasy bubbles. There's a rusted trough filled with stacks of dirty, slimy metal plates, forks, knives, and even some silver spoons. The room itself is as red as the guards outside and the floor is like the dirty cobblestone roads of the city. I really hope that the baby wasn't left in some bucket of intestines. Kazdan scowls at the baby's sudden silence.
"The wispy mute almost ran you over, H'earring. Must really want to see the sad little thing." The kitchen mistress tsks like she finds Kazdan's compassion for a baby to be childish. If he wasn't half-certain that the kitchen mistress would happily beat him with the cleaver and dump him into the pot, Kazdan would have cussed her out.
CRASH!
Kazdan jumps back from the surprise stomp from above; he realizes that the Chaor has to be one who did that. Momentarily, he is excited again; he's literally only a floor away from Chaor. But then, he hears the hidden baby begin to whine again, clearly frightened by the sudden noise. The whining is coming from behind a rosewood (or at least the Perim equivalent of the wood) door with a tarnished golden knob and a rusted keyhole. He practically sprints across the kitchen and tries to open the door, only to hear the annoying jangle of it being locked.
"Hold on! Humans are so impatient, rivaling Lord Chaor." He hears the kitchen mistress mutters under her breath; another stomp shakes the ceiling again. She slowly, and he's pretty certain that she's being slow just to annoy him, walks over and unlocks the door. And then, like a sledgehammer to a mirror, Kazdan is pushed inside and then hears the key turn to lock the door again. There's giggling and guffawing outside the door; he hears them, H'earring and the kitchen mistress, leave him to search for 'Harpy lard' in the food pantry.
"I hope that pond scum gives him diarrhea!" Kazdan curses at H'earring breaking his word. So much for a tour around UnderWorld City! Sex makes even Creatures stupid! Kazdan dry heaves at the subsequent thought of H'earring having sex with that bloated, irresponsible ogress.
He looks around the dimly lit, the only light coming from a torch with a strange glowing crystal, room and sees yellowing tarps on furniture; he sees three glass cases loaded with very delicate-looking, gold-painted plates and crystal champagne glasses. This is probably where they hide their good china; where are the goblets? Are they stored somewhere else? It would be pretty lame if Chaor had to drink out of one of those frilly glasses; maybe the goblets are stored with the weapons. Honestly, in Chaor's hands, anything can be a weapon. Kazdan lets out a geeky snigger.
"Mmmhhh…" The baby softly whines; he finds the baby in the darkest corner of the room. The baby is in a box labelled in the pictograph language that he saw on the signs; luckily, he can visibly see scraps of white, red, black, and gold cloth in the box. He guesses that the box contains handkerchiefs or fancy dinner serviettes. He happily finds the baby on top of the scraps and is happy to see the babe at least dressed in a gray onesie with three red buttons.
"Thank the non-existing God that you weren't buried in this." He whispers softly as he picks the baby up gently. The baby is shockingly white, whiter than the moon; the baby's hair is just as white as the skin and would almost disappear into it if not for the thick tresses. The baby also has pupil-less, ice-blue eyes like Chaor; in fact, the eyes have the exact same color as Chaor's eyes. The baby has a Roman nose where the bridge is high enough to make it looked hook; however, the lips are shaped like Cupid's bow and are just a couple shades darker than the skin.
"Okay, let's make sure you don't have a filthy diaper. At worse, the kitchen mistress will have a real mess to clean up." He talks to himself, although he is saying out loud so he's not really talking to himself. He puts the baby on the floor and unbuttons the onesie; he then pulls the onesie down to see more moon-pale skin and a thick, brown cloth diaper with red snaps. He doesn't smell anything, but it is probable that baby's poop doesn't stink. He unbuttons the sides of the diaper and sees no fecal traces or yellow stains.
"Oh, you're a boy! Good to know that some Creatures' genders are easy to figure out. Although, H'earring…I don't want to finish that thought." He buttons up the diaper and buttons up the onesie. He lifts up the baby and stands him up like a toy soldier. The baby gives him an open-mouth smile, revealing some tiny, shark-looking teeth.
"Wow, you've got Chaor's teeth too! I won-" He is cut off by a fairly large stomp that causes a bit of plaster from the ceiling to fall like a waterfall of dust. Immediately, the baby stops smiling and begins to whimper, signaling to Kazdan that the baby is probably about to cry again and perhaps very loudly.
"Oh no, dearie, don't cry. I've got you! I'll sing you a song, a very loud song to block out that scary stomping." Kazdan coos patronizingly and takes out his Scanner. He is so grateful that the very expensive (considering how they can teleport you to another dimension would explain the exorbitant prices) Scanner is equipped to play music. He immediately goes through and picks out an instrumental track. For about four seconds, there is only drumming before the bass comes in and about six seconds later the 80s synth kicks in. Kazdan taps his foot and cradles the baby into his arms. The baby stops his whimpering and stares up at him like he's waiting for something magical to happen.
"In fear every day, every evening,
He calls her aloud from above,
Carefully watched for a reason,
Painstaking devotion and love.
Surrendered to self-preservation,
From others who care for themselves,
A blindness that touches perfection,
But hurts just like anything else."
Kazdan is pretty certain that singing a Joy Division song to a baby is perhaps not his brightest idea. He has sang for babies before, but usually something happy and obviously approved by the mother. However, there's no hovering mother telling him what educational, positive song to sing; plus, it's not like the baby is going to remember this, hopefully.
"Isolation,
Isolation,
Isolation."
Kazdan winces at how loudly he belts out isolation and hopes that Chaor isn't going to come down and potentially beat up the idiot interrupting his temper tantrum. He doesn't hear any loud stomping and presumes that he is safe. He then smiles at the baby and blows a bit of air onto his face; the baby smiles and blows air right back at him.
"Mother, I tried, please believe me.
I'm doing the best that I can.
I'm ashamed of the things
I've been put through.
I'm ashamed of the person I am."
He knows that he can't match Ian Curtis's despair, but he likes to believe that he comes close. And besides, who is going to compare him to Ian Curtis here? Actually, he finds it kind of sad that Perim probably doesn't have something like Joy Division for music around here.
"Isolation,
Isolation,
Isolation."
Three has always been his favorite number, and his dad once told him that three is a very important number in their magical heritage. Part of him feels like he's casting some kind of curse on the baby, ensuring the poor babe to be alone for the rest of his life. A more, rational side of him tells him to keep singing and the baby will be just fine.
"But if you could just see the beauty,
These things I could never describe.
These pleasures a wayward distraction,
This is my one broken prize."
He knows that the end is coming, only one more refrain to go. He is sadden by this because this song always left him wanting more lyrics, more poetry. There won't be anymore because this is all that there is to this song; everything has a conclusion.
"Isolation,
Isolation,
Isolation,
Isolation,
Isolation."
The baby drools a bit but shows off another open-mouth, toothy smile. He is pleased by the human's performance. Kazdan almost smirks smugly, pretending that the baby is demanding for an encore. He rewinds the track again and begins again; he'll sing until H'earring and the kitchen mistress comes to fetch them. He's not about to leave this infant alone again, even the isolated ones deserve affection.
Author's Comments- Wow, this took much longer than expected, but school has a way of distracting me. I literally changed the song five times before happily settling on this song; originally, I was going to use "Where Do We Go But Nowhere" by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. Then, I got into Joy Division and went from "A Means to an End" to "Dead Souls" to "She Lost Control" before stumbling and settling on "Isolation." This song is far more fitting for the party involved: a kid without a friend, a baby without a mother, and a lord without a soul. I'm being poetic on that last part.
Not entirely certain how many chapters it will be before I reach my version of the first episode. I just want to do some building for the characters, or rather Kazdan, and the world. I'm even working on some Perim terms for time because the guide I have doesn't necessarily tell me how Creatures label time. Again, not certain when the next chapter will be out, but hopefully before school starts up again.