Another Musketeer Arrives

[not_apriest]

Who: Aramis and OPEN
Where: The Grounds
When: October 15th. Morning.
Rating: PG at worst? We don't really know what to expect yet.
Summary: Aramis wakes up on a beach and isn't sure how he got there.
The Story:


He opened his eyes and immediately squinted against the glare of the sun. And that was already wrong. He put his hands down to push himself up and noticed they sank in hot sand. He frowned. Very very wrong. There were no beaches in Paris. Where the hell was he? He pushed himself up to a sitting position, patting himself down, taking stock. He still had his weapons. His hat was on the sand near his left hand. He was still wearing his cloak and his boots. He grabbed his hat and stood, looking around. There was sparkling blue water to his right. Rich green grass to his left. Beyond, some distance away, he could see what appeared to be a great manor house.

He headed for that.

Comments

[action]

[thestormcomes]

[Athos, having not been invited to the magnificent fête hosted by Lord Buckingham out in the gardens, can think of plenty of better things to do with his time than crash a party.

...give him a minute, he's still thinking.

While he thinks (away from the orchards and neatly-situated rows of autumn flora), he strolls outside to enjoy the brisk air. By far, the harvest is his favorite when it comes to seasons, and as he moves towards the beacWAIT WHO THE DEVIL-]

Aramis?

[Yes. Exactly that. Very peculiar indeed.]

[not_apriest]

[Aramis looks up when the familiar voice calls his name. He sees nothing odd about Athos being here. He assumes they were all taken at the same time.]

Oh, thank God. You're here as well. Where's Porthos? Have you found him yet?

[thestormcomes]

[The narration is willing to bet a small fortune that Aramis hardly expected Athos to stride forward and pull him into an embrace.]

Porthos? No, no...he is not here.

[Athos steps back, patting down his friends arms, reassuring himself that Aramis is actually present. It saddens him to know that Porthos did not accompany the musketeer, but it's hardly surprising.]

He has not been here this entire time, I- I apologize, I forget you are only just arrived. I'm afraid you have been spirited away from France, ami.

[not_apriest]

[Narration would be correct. There's a grunt of surprise when he's embraced and a wry look as Athos pats down his arms. But something Athos says strikes him in particular.]

'This entire time'? Athos, what's going on? Where in heaven's name are we?

[thestormcomes]

Wonderland,

[he replies with no small trace of bitterness.]

I've been here nearly a year, with neither kith nor kin to alleviate my suffering.

[And he's not overdramatizing, either. Even those naturally inclined towards being alone can get lonely.]

This place...functions on a level unheard of in our time.

[not_apriest]

[Aramis had never been fooled by Athos' search for solitude. He and Porthos had always been around to some degree, no matter how dark Athos was feeling. In fact, the darker Athos' mood, the more inclined at least one of them was to staying no farther away than the next room. The three of them lived together and fought together. They didn't spend every waking moment together, by any means, but they had each other to depend on. What Athos is telling him is not taken lightly. He doesn't, however, embarrass his friend by saying so. He focuses on the last statement.]

What does that mean?

[thestormcomes]

[It cannot be stressed how much Athos has felt the lack of companionship and camaraderie these past months, and how relieved he is to finally have an old friend at his side again.]

This is not another country, nor does it reside in the world that we know. It is a place that possesses finite boundaries, one we cannot escape from. Its purpose and leader are unclear, but many others dwell in the manor, all from different worlds of their own.

[He grimaces.]

...Worlds, and times. Do not be surprised should you speak with someone who claims to be from an era several hundred years in the future.

[airshipswank]

In front of the great manor house Buckingham has just finished distributing invitations for a small gathering he has planned later today. Standing near the fountain he gauges the right location for the dance floor when he spots somebody approaching in the corner of his eyes.

He turns to greet them, but finds their appearance far from any of the residents he knows or indeed even those he does not yet know. A familiar face. He was beginning to think he would never see the day and though his chest still stings from the reminder that one musketeer is nuisance enough he can't help but feel that this... will be interesting.

"One more and we have the entire set," Buckingham calls out as he faces the musketeer, making no notion to approach.

He can't say how much Aramis already knows, of their world and this world alike, and would hate to tailor his conversation to the wrong assumptions, especially since he might yet have an entire year of knowledge to hold over the new arrival's head.

"Or is that... two more these days? I'm not... quite sure on that."

Buckingham offers a broad grin. Ah, but where are his manners?

"Welcome."

[not_apriest]

There's a face he's not happy to see.

"Buckingham," he says, only allowing mild displeasure to colour his tone.

Buckingham, but not Porthos. It hardly seems fair. Though, judging by the shot about nearly have the entire set, it seems Buckingham doesn't believe it fair, either.

"You preen like you're the lord of the manor," he notes dryly. "But I've already run into Athos and I know that you're not."

[airshipswank]

But it is such a pretty face! Pretty, if slightly disappointed that he could not be the first to welcome Aramis, because surely his friend must have filled him in on Wonderland too thoroughly to leave much confusion for Buckingham to revel in.

"Call it a work in progress."

What can he say? Aim for the stars; even if you miss you might still land on top of an airship. Something to that effect at any rate.

"You haven't been here long, have you? Did Athos not... offer you a tour? I can spare a moment, if you wish."

[not_apriest]

He's not about to go into what passed between him and Athos, but taking Buckingham up on his offer - however distasteful - might allow him some insight into what the Englishman is up to.

Because there's no doubt he's up to something.

"I've only just arrived this morning," he admits. "What did you have in mind?"

[airshipswank]

A fair question.

Presenting his friend's head to Athos in a wooden box certainly crossed the duke's mind ever so briefly, given the other musketeer's latest affront. Regrettably even such crude methods of revenge do require some preparation, an entirely different outfit and most of all more time than Buckingham currently cares to spare for the ire that would undoubtedly follow.

No. No, he has his mind set on killing with kindness. For the time being.

"A look at the mansion, if you've yet to see it. The library is simply breathtaking."

Not literally, alas.

[not_apriest]

"I've seen it." He looks Buckingham over. "Are you always so overdressed for prison?" he asks.

[speaksforthetrees]

After that...incident with the river, well, the Lorax finds himself getting a little embarrassed around water. For this reason, he's only able to see the newcomer once he's about halfway to the mansion, and it takes a bit of, let's say observation to be sure this is not one of the other two tall folks with silly hats.

"Hello there! You look a bit lost! I guess you're new here, huh?"

[not_apriest]

Athos had warned him of the strange sights he'd seen in this place, but he wasn't quite prepared for the fuzzy orange dwarf that was approaching him.

"Oh, um. Yes. I arrived this morning," he replied, managing to maintain his composure, though he was giving the little man a wary glance. "Are you a prisoner or a resident here?"

[speaksforthetrees]

The Lorax tilts his head slightly. "Prisoner, I guess. I'm not here by choice, if that's what you mean."

He steps a little closer, aware his appearance is a little unsettling for some of the people here-- especially those who've just arrived. "The name's the Lorax. I speak for the trees." Pause. "Well, spoke." He glances behind him. "Different trees."

[not_apriest]

"So you... speak for certain trees." He cocked his head curiously. "What do trees tend to talk about?"

[speaksforthetrees]

"It's less of a talking to them and more of a talking for them kinda thing," the Lorax explains. "I say what they would say if they could."

Which is usually stuff like, don't cut me down!

[not_apriest]

"I see. I take it they require an advocate where you come from," Aramis remarked.

Knock Knock

[sinkships]

Who's there?
Redglare.
Redglare who?
Redglare ruins everyone's day by being a creeper.

It is, coincidentally, what she planning on doing now. It's hard to stalk someone on a beach. It's hard and no one will ever understand unless they are also blind and see via taste and smell. The scent of the other was faint, possibly due to the smell of salt and sand, but it smelled distinctly like Athos. Well, not so much the other musketeer as the place where he comes from.

Still, it is rather hard sneaking around in an open beach area when you're dressed in bright teal and red.

"And I was under the impression we had met our limit for men who smell of wine and steel. Among other things, of course."

[not_apriest]

Once he was refreshed, Aramis ventured back down to the beach where he'd arrived. Now he's walking along, trying to... he isn't sure. See the seam between his reality and this one?

The voice behind him is strange and when he turns, the being it's coming from is even stranger. Ominous in a way the little orange man he'd met earlier was not.

"Excuse me?"

[sinkships]

It's hard to manage motions with her cane in sand, but she tilts it to the side, and her head follows along.

"Was I not clear? You smell of wine and steel, among other things. The trappings of piety. Riches. Gold. I don't believe I've ever smelled such a rich bouquet of scents before."

Clearly she's interested in keeping him on the ropes as long as possible, from the way she's decided that circling him is a completely innocent gesture despite sharp features and sharper teeth.

"What is your name, human?"

Calling him human is unnecessary, but fun.

[not_apriest]

He didn't find it that jarring, since she clearly wasn't one. He only raised his eyebrow at it a little bit.

"Aramis. And yours?"

the slooow essst taaaag

[sinkships]

Redglare pulls her can from the sand and gestures to herself with a slight flourish. Legislacerating is as much entertaining as it is a necessary judicial duty.

"I am Neophyte Redglare, legislacerator of the Cruelest Bar."

[not_apriest]

"Which means what, exactly?" Aramis asks, watching her movements warily.