week 4

[airlockedmods]

[Four weeks in the Starfield Penitentiary and seven people have lost their lives to Blaze Dudely's cruel game. At some point the robots cleaned up the mess left behind and by Sunday the involved rooms (including the fridge) are all clean and free of blood. In fact there's no sign left of any of the deaths that have happened on the ship so far by at least the next day. The only physical signs that people are gone are the empty beds.

On Sunday morning, you may find that you're recovering a a few other things as well - both strange dreams and some new items.

In addition, there's a new set of doors at the end of the corridor, in the space between the infirmary and the exercise yard. Looks like you've got a new wing to explore.]



Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

(( ooc: Don't forget to turn in your AC for Week 3, submit your memory regains, and put in your benefactor threads! ))

Comments

[silverguitarhero]

[He smiles at her.] Shall I play it from the start, then?

[tuskenlancer]

[ Oh. She looks surprised at the offer, then shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. ]

If you want.

[ But she's not leaving. ]

[silverguitarhero]

[He nods with a little smile, then starts up the Yandro song again.]

I'll build me a desrick on Yandro's high hill,
Where the wild beasts can't reach me or hear my sad cry,
For he's gone, he's gone away, to stay a little while,
But he'll come back if he comes ten thousand miles.

[tuskenlancer]

[ She listens while he sings, attentive, and waits until he's finished before she speaks. ]

What's a desrick?

[silverguitarhero]

It's an old word for an old country song. It's one of those cabins with logs and barred doors, and loophole windows for watching and standing off dangers that might come by.

[tuskenlancer]

[ An old word for an old song. She likes the sound of that, and the corner of her mouth turns upward a little at the thought. ]

A desrick.

[ A safe place. ]

...Did it work?

The person in the song...did they stay safe?

[silverguitarhero]

[He looks a bit surprised at her question, but nods.] She's a-waiting for her promised love, but she's safe there while she waits for him to come. [Or, well, technically his descendant.]

[tuskenlancer]

Good.

[ It's nice to know that someone stays safe. Somewhere. Even if it's a fictional woman in a folk song. ]

What happened? Did he come back?

[silverguitarhero]

[I mean, John did see the sort-of real version of it.]

The song's question is still unanswered. But the man I met...he chose to go back, but only because his grandfather's bargain spoke of gold and riches.

[tuskenlancer]

[ Her eyebrows narrow. Wait a minute. What happened to this being a folk song? ]

What man?

[silverguitarhero]

Some country songs speak more truth than you know. Mr. Yandro was the grandson of the man who'd inspired it, though all he knew were stories and rumors.

[tuskenlancer]

And you met him?

[ She's impressed. It's like...meeting a part of history. Especially since the song itself is so unlike any of the music of her time. It sounds unbelievably ancient. ]

Do you know what happened? When he went back?

[ She knows she's kind of grilling him here, but...she's curious. And it's nice to talk about something other than murder for a change. ]

[silverguitarhero]

I've my suspicions that woman was a witch or spirit, to have been a-waiting so long. And he had the same sorry nature as his grandfather, thinking only of what money he could get from her, not any of the pain she'd been in when she was left behind. [There's a pause.] The creatures of the mountain-the Skim, the Bammat, even the Hidebehind-they all came out, to drive him to her door. [He shakes his head.] She took him, and I don't think he's come back down the mountain since.

[Sorry it's not a happy ending...?]

[tuskenlancer]

[ It never is.

She looks at him, interest replaced by skepticism and a little hurt. Is he making fun of her? ]

You're making those up.

[silverguitarhero]

[He looks a bit offended as well at not being believed.] Lady, I'd not invent a-seeing the Hidebehind. I've no wish to see it again, and if I could forget its looks I would.

[tuskenlancer]

[ CT still looks skeptical, but she looks curious, too. John doesn't seem like the type to make up stories just to tease her, but then, who knows? ]

...So what's a "hidebehind"?

[silverguitarhero]

[He strums his guitar a bit as he thinks.] Folklore says it's a critter that's swift enough to always stay behind you, that no one's supposed to see. Most tales I hear, all it does is follow. But the grudge must have been strong, because it didn't care that I was there to see it. [He seems to shudder a bit.] Though I'll not try to describe more of it.

[tuskenlancer]

[ Folklore, of course. Her brow furrows as she tries to think of a real-life creature it might be based on, but nothing comes to mind. ]

...So you're the only person who's seen it?

[silverguitarhero]

Seen it and lived to tell the tale, I'd say.

[tuskenlancer]

[ She has to smile at that. Well. He's sitting here now, so, assuming he's telling the truth... ]

Yeah. I guess so.

[silverguitarhero]

Thank you for not a-going digging on that. [And we can probably fade out on him playing some more music in this nice greenhouse where no one is dead.]