Day 1, Part 3

CarrollQuest: Day 1: Part 3


Red.

It’s all that seems to fill your vision. The heat is unbearable…

Your head seems to throb rhythmically. Through the red, you think you can see indistinct shapes, swaying unnaturally in the distance. As though from afar, yet at the same time somehow frighteningly nearby, horridly guttural noises entwine your head.

It had been said that in ancient Mantle, the auric scholars sought to use dust, semblance and aura to peer deep into the nature of the soul itself. Some say they delved too far…too deep…

In dreams, they say, the mind can wonder to those same reaches. Those places even the Grimm dare not tread…

You never believed that sort of thing. That dappy witch doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

…the noise grows louder. Closer. You think you hear mad chanting.

You panic.

And finally wake up.

Your eyes open to see a familiar face, but not one you could have easily anticipated.

“Fufufu…haa….haa…”

Flushed red as a beetroot, the upside-down face of Bianca stares down at you, mere inches away. Beneath her ever-present mask, you think you can make out a highly suspect expression. Her panting and soft giggling, you realise, were the ghastly sounds you heard in your near wakened-state.

It’s now centimetres away. She’s been drawing in closer.

“Ahem.” You cough clearly, staring her straight in the eye.

…she keeps pulling closer.

“Bianca! What is the meaning of this?”

She stops, audibly tsking at being caught. But then she draws back and curtsies, as usual.

“Milady, it is most wonderful to see you recovered so.”

“What’s going on? What happened? Where am I?”

So saying, you glance about the room. From the semi-transparent curtains and assorted beds, you must’ve been taken to the infirmary after…after what, actually?

“Milady fainted in the great hall following a tussle with a ruffian. Naturally, this humble servant took it upon herself to deliver you safely to the infirmary for treatment.”

Her expression hardens a little. She’s probably about to scold you.

“Milady, you mustn’t engage with common thugs so wantonly. Even if this is a combat academy, you must take more care of your body. Should anything happen to you, your parents would be most upset-“

“And you would be punished for it. Which is why you secretly followed me here, correct? Honestly…”

“Punished…you must not concern yourself about this humble servant’s well-being, milady…a mere hundred lashings is nothing when your health is at stake…yes…nothing at all…”

Her face is flushed again. Her eyes seem to have slightly glazed over. She’s imagining something quite vulgar, no doubt.

You rub your eyes. You must have been dreadfully tired, since you think you can hear that horrid chanting again.

“Oh Great Hare! Or some say Harem…grant us your ears! Ears of every beast, as you did for Kemonomimus! Let the fetishes burst forth! Fill our heads with ears to hear your magnificent voice! AHAHAHA!”

Oh no. It’s real. What madness is this?

You turn to the direction of the voice, when you realise it’s one you recognise. As you set eyes on the source, everything seems to fall into place. Annoyingly.

Marsha is dancing around the infirmary, carrying the remarkably docile mouse girl you encountered earlier. Every so often she bows her head and their respective faunus ears touch. The mouse girl doesn’t seem to like it very much, but other than looking sour-faced, doesn’t take any action to prevent it.

Marsha seems thoroughly absorbed in her personal dementia, but the mouse girl seems to finally notice you.

“Hey. You squashed me when you collapsed. That wasn’t very heroic.”

“What?”

“You fell on me. You’re a fair bit heavier than you look.”

Your cheeks flush indignantly, at both the slight and your sudden recollection of events.

You intervened with the girl being horribly harassed, made a scene spouting something about honour or chivalry or some other nonsense, challenged a goon to a duel, and something else about an eclaire…

“Milady. There is another matter at hand…”

Bianca has turned uncharacteristically severe. Which is worrying.

“What is it?”

“A woman with whom you had previously been in contact approached you immediately following your collapse. It did not seem that she intended to come to your assistance…I suspect she had something far less savoury in mind.”

“What? Who?”

“The woman resembling a pantomime lead. Archaic naval attire.”

Madalyn. Of course.

“What happened?”

“This humble servant intervened, quite naturally.”

“…and?”

“…she was not particularly co-operative with my attempts to take you to safety. I had to use…less than courteous methods to secure your person.” She looks away, unable to meet your gaze.

You sigh.

An external observer would probably have thought it odd that your parents would leave you in the care of a woman who was, quite frankly, a drooling pervert. However, there is method to the madness. Bianca held certain qualities that disputably could be said to justify her employ. Your parents valued your safety more than anything, particularly after the events that led to them leaving West Menagerie. The land had become fraught with danger, particularly after the militarisation of the White Fang. The country became divided, neighbour unable to trust neighbour, humans and faunus relations growing ever weaker…the person living next door could’ve been a member of the Menagerian Unionist Front, for all you knew. Once peaceful cities saw gang violence…no, genuine guerrilla warfare. And in the background, the Grimm grew ever stronger.

And then there were the children who were drafted into the armed forces on both sides. Those that survived were a force to be reckoned with. And dreadful loyal to the cause. What happened to many of them is difficult to say…

Bianca’s face is bowed in embarrassment. Usually obscured by her clothing and hair, the scar on the side of her slightly muscular neck emerges. There are some things even aura cannot heal.

“…my apologies, milady. It was all I could do to secure your safety.”

You shake your head.

“Will she be fine? You didn’t do anything…permanent to her did you?”

“I did not, milady. She will doubtless be right as rain by morning.”

That’s probably about the best you could hope for. The fact that Madalyn isn’t in the infirmary with you is a good sign. Though she could still be at a hospital. Or a morgue…

There’s a thump on your bed. You turn back to the debacle you’d manage to ignore until now.

“Here’s your teddy back. I can’t sacrifice something to dread gods if it doesn’t even care.”

“I’m not a teddy.”

Marsha seems to have gotten bored with her heretical ritual and has placed the mouse girl on your bed, who sort of gazes into the middle-distance, as if undergoing some kind of profound revelation. She speaks.

“…but then what if we are all teddies? Teddies to the gods to whom our lives are mere dreams…?”

“Shit girl, that’s deep. I doubt it though.”

You’ve no patience for this. Even being in their presence seems to drain you of all strength and reasoning. It’s as if they could drive you mad just by existing.

Maybe there is something to be said for dark gods after all…

You snap out of it and spot the clock on the wall. You must have been out for a few hours, since it is now late afternoon. Your meeting with the headmaster is still some time away, thank goodness. The embarrassment of missing it on your first day no less would be simply unbearable. And you’ve suffered enough embarrassment today as is.

Well, you’re not going to accomplish anything sitting in bed. Best you make up for lost time.

[ ] Explore the school grounds. Attending orientation was optional, but it would still be wise to get to grips with the campus before classes start.
[ ] Find Madalyn. As loathed as you are to do so, finding out what her intentions toward you are could prove important.
[X] Strengthening your faunus-human relations is paramount. Maybe you should try and get better acquainted with the two girls here…
[ ] It’s been some time since you’ve tended to your ‘weapon’…although she shouldn’t be operable at the moment, you’re still a little concerned. You should probably check on her, discreetly of course…
[ ] Other

In all these scenarios, Bianca can accompany you or be charged with attending to a different task, though you might be better off handling certain things in person. So on top there’s also:

[X] Have Bianca go with you.
[ ] Have Bianca do [write-in] (can be one of the options above or something else entirely. Nothing lewd, sorry. Probably.)


Madalyn and The White Queen can likely wait. If Madalyn is upset, she’ll doubtless let you know soon enough. And The White Queen shouldn’t be able to take action independently.

More importantly, you have a sound opportunity at hand. The two faunus girls here don’t seem to know anything about your family history…well, Marsha might, given the crazed greeting she gave you when you first met, but it strikes you as purely incidental. Even if it wasn’t, she doesn’t seem capable of harbouring any real malice. Or harbouring much of anything, really.

It would be useful to have them vouch for your good name…but after your rather embarrassing attempt at befriending Inaba, you’d rather not make more careless mistakes. Perhaps you should ask Bianca for advice? She should be quite knowledgeable in faunus mannerisms. And you trust her to give you sound advice. You think you trust her.

[X] Excuse yourselves for a moment and have Bianca explain faunus interaction
[ ] Improvise. You’ve already learnt from your mistakes, and these two don’t seem the sort to be easily offended (write-in what to say?)


You turn to your would be new friends.

“Please, do excuse us for a moment. I need to confer with my servant on something private. I shall return shortly!”

“You can cut the posh-girl act, you know. No one here believes that stuff anyway.” says Marsha, whilst idly balancing pencils on the mouse-girl’s head. Where did she even get them?

“Ahaha…how very droll” you respond nervously. What is she talking about now? Does she think you’re not really of noble stock?

“Please understand, dear girl. Milady is merely strained from her collapse and recovery. She is most certainly not acting.“ Bianca addresses Marsha in a concise, clipped tone. Her expression suggests a smile beneath her mask, but her eyes are narrowed to almost closed. Not a good sign.

“Bianca! Let us discuss the matter outside. Now.” You say, firmly. A human injury by your personal staff can probably be explained away. But a faunus injury could be nothing short of disastrous.

Before Bianca can even respond, you grab her by the arm as innocuously as possible and lead her outside, and close the door. Although you quickly realise from the sheer size and strength of that arm, that you only managed to shift her at all because she was being entirely compliant.

“Bianca.” You whisper in a hiss. “I don’t know how to deal with faunus, least of all in a strange situation like this! Help me!”

Bianca sighs in a way you find slightly condescending. You’d reprimand her, but you desperately need her help.

“It can’t be helped. Please allow this humble servant to demonstrate."

She moves towards you, arms stretched. It's then that you realise no one else is around to see whatever she has planned for you.

You're beginning to regret your decision.

[X] Let Bianca 'demonstrate' proper faunus greetings
[ ] Stop her. She's going to do something inappropriate...
[ ] Have her demonstrate on Marsha


Against your better judgement, you decide to let Bianca go ahead.

“…do as you must” you utter, closing your eyes and bracing for impact.

“…um…Milady?”

You open your eyes.

Bianca stands with one arm extended. You extend yours in kind, tentatively.

She shakes your hand.

The silence yawns between you as the gesture is concluded.

“…a handshake.”

“Indeed, Milady. It’s a universally recognised standard.”

You glare at her, as years worth of memories of misinformation on faunus behaviour drifts through your mind. She smiles back at you, unabashed.

“Did Milady think there was something more cultural involved? Or perhaps that I would do something shameful?”

You sigh.

“Clearly not. Let us return and make the best of the situation whilst we can-“

“This humble servant would never do something inappropriate to milady in public.”

“Yes, of course. How foolish of me.” Wait. There was something off about that sentence.

But you’re back in the infirmary. The two girls seem to be enacting some kind of classical drama. How surprisingly refined.

“I’m flying, Jack. I guess.” mutters the mouse, held at arms’ length out the open window by Marsha.

Horribly overwrought pipe-music seems to be playing from somewhere. You really wish it wouldn’t.

“Ahem.” you try to attract their attention.

They turn to you. Well, Marsha turns to you, whilst the mouse girl vaguely looks your way as Marsha places her carefully on her head, somehow securing her with her ears. Are those things supposed to be prehensile?

“…”

You hadn’t thought of what to say.

[X] Hand-shake and introductions
[ ] Maybe Bianca wasn’t being entirely truthful. Perhaps you could dare be a bit more creative…

(Please write-in what Alison should say in either case)


"I think we might've gotten off on wrong terms. I am Alison, this is my dear friend Bianca, who is supposed to look out for me. Pleased to meet you two."

There. That felt surprisingly natural. Not unreasonably haughty, like you had been before.

“Ooh, are we redoing introductions? Can I be a pirate this time?”

Oh. Of course. Why would the damn hare be anything less than difficult.

“I’m just joshing. Of course I remember you Ali-baby.”

“…glad to hear it.”

“We met at the winter pageant, did we not? We danced, made merry, made love beneath the sycamore trees…we were to be married in June…it was then, of course that tragedy struck. I was called away to war, you left alone with child…the letters I wrote you never made it back to you in dear old Blighty…and neither did I. A soldier’s unmarked grave, a so-called small corner that is forever Vacuo. And you, withered away, waiting for the man you loved. I’m sorry, Eliza. I’m so sorry…”

“Alison. I said my name is Alison.” you repeat, as patiently as you can.

“Oh yeah, you did. Huh. Must’ve gotten you confused with someone else.”

“Men of Haven, lie ye dreaming? See ye not their dust-blades gleaming…” the mouse girl seems to have started singing absent mindedly in the meantime.

“…Milady would never do such things as fornicating in the outdoors…” Bianca seems torn between her dangerous rage and her rabid libido, apparently overlooking the absurdity of the story.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, however. May I ask you name?” You determinedly ignore Madalyn’s nonsense in favour of getting the mouse girl’s attention.

She pauses her distracted singing and finally seems to give you her undivided attention.

"I'm Doreen Mauz. 17. Blood-type AB Negative. Born in Vacuo. Unmarried. No children."

Sounds suspiciously practised.

"Charmed, I'm sure." What now?

[ ] How to continue the conversation (write-in)


[X] "Well Bianca, sycamore trees HAVE quite sightly foliage..."

Wait, did you really just say that out loud?

“…Milady should not lower herself to make such vulgar jokes.” says Bianca, surprisingly restrained.

“Yeah, man. We’re trying to have a civilized conversation. Why’d you have to start telling dirty jokes?” adds Marsha, unhelpfully.

“What’s so special about sycamore foliage anyway?” Dora seems to be looking it up on her scroll.

“Furthermore, I can personally vouch that Milady’s lower hairs are kept in pristine condition. I tend to them myself.”

“I keep forgetting that humans only have like a tiny patch down there. That must be really weird. Well, not for you guys, I guess.”

The conversation is getting out of hand. And some of those comments are ones you’d really rather have not heard.

“Well, I am glad that we are all acquainted now. I’m sure we shall become best of friends!” Perhaps by saying it aloud you could even convince yourself. It doesn’t seem to be working.

“Not until I find out if the curtains match the drapes or not. Old faunus saying, you know. ‘Never trust a Two-toned Tracy.’”, interjects Marsha.

“That is information for myself and Milady alone to know.”, retorts Bianca.

“Don’t worry, they match. I checked just now.” says a floating disembodied mouth.

…

You really, really don’t like this conversation now.

You glance at the…thing…that just spoke. As does everyone else in the room.

“Er…hi?” it says, as if its presence is perfectly natural.

…

[ ] Greet it calmly.
[ ] Scream.
[ ] Demand an explanation.
[ ] Other, etc.


    In spite of the shock and absurdity of the situation, you manage to recover your senses. No matter what it may be, it only pays to be courteous.

    “Hello. May I ask who you are?” by which you mean ‘what you are’. And add: “and how long have you been here, exactly?”

    “Wh-what? I’ve been here the whole time!”

    “Milady, please stand back. This worthless servant shall tend to this pervert.”

    Bianca moves on the hovering mouth. It seems to recoil in panic, although it doesn’t seem to lose it’s fixed grin it has maintained since it’s appearance.

    “Y-you’re not one to talk! I saw what you were doing with those vials and swabs!”

    “…The guilty shall not be suffered to speak.” intones Bianca. You don’t want to know what those vials are.

    “She’s right, you know. She’s been here the whole time.” Marsha doesn’t seem particularly alarmed by the occurance.

    “Yeah. He has actually.” adds Dora.

    You stare at both faunus girls.

    “It’s been here the whole time? Why didn’t any of you say anything?” you turned to the mouth. “Why didn’t YOU say anything?” you feel your composure beginning to slip, along with your grip on events.

    “She’s annoying and stupid.” Says Marsha.

    “He’s boring and couldn’t emote to save his life.” says Dora.

    “I don’t know any of you people! I didn’t want to intrude on the conversation!” the mouth seems quite desperate by now, as Bianca seems to be inches away from it, sizing up the best approach to pin it to the ground.

    “Then why, perchance, would you speak now and reveal the divine secret of Milday’s most sacred of regions?” Bianca seems fit to burst at this point.

    “I-I didn’t want to be ignored anymore! You guys were talking about pubes and I just wanted to be helpful!”

    You can’t take much more of this.

    “Look. Don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you, exactly? Why are you here?”

    “Me? I’m a normal cat faunus! Haven’t you seen one before?”

    Of course. This is all starting to fit together.

    Wait, no it’s not.

    “You’re a floating mouth! What are you talking about?!”

    “W-wha-?” The mouth seems to tilt downwards for a moment. “Ah shit. I’ve been invisible the whole time, haven’t I?”

    Just as things slowly start to make sense, the infirmary door bursts open and…white death flies through the door.

    You see your life flash before your eyes. The crimson orbs bear down on you.

    And past you.

    “CHESTER!!!” Screams the blurred apparition.

    The blurring halts, and a purple streak flies across the room and lands on the floating mouth, which seems equally shocked and alarmed.

    “Inaba? What the actual fuck.” says the mouth.

    The terrifying blur gains consistency, and Inaba appears, although the terrifying rage remains imprinted on her face.

    “Er…” Marsha and Dora seem confused. They’re staring at the mouth.

    Where the mouth had been.

    In it’s place, coated head to toe in what can only be bright purple paint, appears to be a young…girl? Her cat ears flick irritably and her tail is understandably standing quite on end.

    “…can ya tell what I am yet?”

    You look to Inaba, then to Marsha and Dora. Who are looking at each other. Then back to the cat faunus.

    “…Who the fuck are you?” They cry in unison.


    End of Day 1 Part 3. Please insert cassette 3.