OPEN | and the moon gazed on my midnight labours

[lifeskills]

Who: Victor Frankenstein (lifeskills) and whoever!
Where: Basement, caverns, and the library.
When: Oct. 30th, 31st, and Nov. 1st.
Rating: Let's go with PG-13 just to be safe, IDK.
Summary: He's no explorer, but he is a chronic insomniac with time to kill and he can't hide in his room forever, strangeness or no strangeness. Poking around is better than nothing.

The Story:



Basement/Caverns


<sub>[It doesn't take Victor long to start feeling the loss of hearth and home. It's more than just existing in a land dredged up from the depths of the human imagination, it's the loss of smaller, mundane things. A familiar workspace. His clothes. His books, his notes, his materials... Unadventurous and unfulfilled though it may seem to some, those bits of flotsam had made up the whole of his life. His hands don't know what to do with themselves without something familiar to touch, to do. He is his work and has been for a long while. As far as abductions go, this one is particularly hard to fathom for all the freedom it grants without the one ultimate liberty: being able to leave. He misses Caliban least of all, but even the task he'd assigned himself in his monster's name had been his choice. A purpose.

Here his sole purpose seems to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. He's not a fan of this waiting game, aimless as it is.

While Vanessa takes her rest, Victor is restless. His senses are too raw for him to eat or sleep, and that imbues him with a false courage, enough to propel him out of their room alone. Wandering isn't a habit he's indulged in since boyhood, but it comes naturally, driven by curiosity and a need to do something that isn't just pacing the length of his room. Anything he finds he can report back to Vanessa, and that is of benefit to them both.

Despite his better judgement, he ends up spending time outside their shared lodgings longer than he intends, whiling away the night hours. Before too long, his evaluation of the mansion takes him down floor by floor, to the ballroom, to the kitchen, down halls that never seem to end, and finally down the stairs into the basement.

On the first night, he doesn't stay longer than a minute. On the second, he hunts down the source of the generator hum and adds it to the notes he's already started to compile in a small notebook.

On the third, after danger fails to appear to rip him into shreds and no horde of white-haired blood-eaters swarm him, he returns with the notebook and a lantern to test his luck a little further. Maybe it's simply a desire to reconstitute his notes and have something of comfort around him, but he finds marking down the caverns' first few turns on paper provides a fruitful labor. Tentative at first, Victor doesn't mean to venture very far into the dark maw under the stairs, but it's the same sort of lie he'd told himself when he'd considered giving up his research after the Monster's birth. His need to know overrides good sense. A left turns into another, which turns into another, which turns into the beginnings of a map.]</sub>



Library


<sub>[The mansion is as lavish as he's ever seen, there can be no denying that, but Victor doesn't come to appreciate much of it until the library. Ah, the library. It puts the "wonder" in Wonderland. Once Victor stumbles across it for the first time, the sharp, metallic edge of tension that characterizes his days softens just a bit.

Books have been some of his only companions over the course of his life; they've filled the roles of friend, colleague, and mentor. They give, not take. If there's a place outside of the surgical room where he's in his element, it's in a place of knowledge. He supposes he has to take what he can get, all else aside. If what he and Vanessa have heard about this new land is to be believed, the discomfort of being in it is of the pervasive and long-lasting variety.

One needs small comforts where one can find them.

During the days, people may find this well-dressed lad making a concentrated effort to hunt down the library so he can walk the aisles, running his fingers along book spines. It's not just for the aesthetic pleasure; he finds the publication dates of material more bewildering the more items he finds from centuries not his own. Amazing how all life in the universe had seemed to stop at the year 1891.]</sub>

Comments

[lifeskills]

<sub>[The implication behind her remark couldn't be farther from the truth. Small and degraded as it is, he's at ease in his home where stacks of books and an unmade bed are there to greet him, in a laboratory where he controls which variables to manipulate, at the odd jobs which provide him the funds to maintain his meager lifestyle.

Most of the time, he's even at ease being alone in dark and dank conditions. But not here. Not here where the people themselves wish to convince him the very fabric of reality has changed around him from one moment to the next.

Victor retracts his head a fraction, doing a poor job of hiding his own wordless audit of her.]</sub>

I wouldn't say that. If I were with any part of this place, I wouldn't bother familiarizing myself with amateur cartography.

_{[He slips the journal free from its place beneath his arm. As to what his business is, that should suffice as an answer.]}

[no_eels]

[What he gets in response is what appears to be a nod; an inclination of the Nightfury's head. Prior to meeting Hiccup, Toothless wouldn't have thought that vikings would be the most important beings in his life. Certainly Stormfly and the other dragons are his friends, but none of them surpass the importance of Hiccup.

Toothless' eyes, like a true predator's, follow the pencil with apt concentration. Part of him tenses, as if he's going to make a dash for it, and then he slowly relaxes again, catching himself. No. Fetch will get him thrown out. Or at least the traditional sort of fast fetch.

So, cautiously, he walks out from underneath his table and over to the pencil, pausing before lowering his head and picking up the object in his short teeth. It will now be a slimy pencil for quite a bit of time. He glances over at Victor before, slowly, he approaches the viking, stopping a few feet away and then dropping the pencil between them.]

[equalmeasure]

[Normally, she has no quarrel with anyone who deigns to give her attention, but there's something about his silent appraisal that makes her mildly uncomfortable, something she can't quite put her finger on. She combats it by squaring her shoulders, pressing her lips together in thought for a brief moment.]

You're new, then.

[Much like her, truth be told. A month was long enough for her to make herself familiar with some of what Wonderland had to offer, but not much. She narrows her eyes again for a moment before sighing, dropping a hand against her hip.]

Well then. It seems this place really does collect all sorts.

[He doesn't look terribly remarkable, really. She has to wonder how Wonderland chooses its captives.]

[lifeskills]

<sub>[This isn't the first time he's been labelled a newcomer, and with the frequency of the observation he doubts it'll be the last. If he'd known the shape of her thoughts, he might not have wondered for a brief, unsettling moment if the rest of her contempt toward him went beyond appearances.

He could take a sharp tongue, not bothered by mere words, but the people he'd met had been responding to something deeper than his appearance. Something in his name. Frankenstein.

Victor lacks an inflated ego about himself--at least where his physicality is concerned. He'd be the first to admit his features from boyhood to adulthood had been neither exceptionally pleasing to the eye nor exceptionally unpleasing; his mind and his will had always been his greatest strengths, not his outward aspect. If there's an ugliness, it's beneath the skin in that playground of mind and spirit.

He spends an irrational second thinking that's what she means, having seen it like an ink stain on a shirt.]</sub>

I could say the same. _{[Rationally, he suspects she means nothing by it. Or that he's odd, which is next to nothing.]} I'd be curious to know who sets the standard.

_{[He spares a look for her pants. His tone suggests he's not convinced it's her or the others like her who dress and act so unlike himself, but why these people have gathered here is a question he also has yet to answer.]}

[lifeskills]

<sub>[Blood pumps a hard and fast beat underneath his skin--excitement, fear, and not a little disbelief.

The creature seems self-aware. High cognitive ability is an area Victor's only ever studied in-depth where it applies to human intelligence, not animal kind. It just makes bearing witness to this all the more extraordinary, rivaling even the most impressive things Wonderland's thrown at him to date.

Still crouching, Victor finds himself smiling, a brief flash of brightness.]</sub>

Amazing.

_{[Not the saliva-coated writing instrument on the floor, no. But the act which had deposited it there certainly qualifies.]}

You respond to the sound of a man's voice. Awfully well-trained for a beast of your size.

<sub>[A man staying bent over to make himself smaller is probably not how one should approach an animal that could easily break bones and rend flesh if it feels provoked, but no one can say Victor has the best sense in all situations.

But could he touch it, that's the question. How accepting of human contact is this creature?]</sub>

[no_eels]

[Toothless has the answer for that question strapped around him: his leather harness, complete with the saddle on his back, bearing signs of human craftsmanship. It rustles as he steps forward once and then stops, sniffing at Victor and getting his scent down to memory — as he does with all of his viking pals.

Dragons have an exquisite sense of smell. Some more than others, but Toothless' nose is fairly good at tracking things down.

He rumbles low, ears perking up as he peers at the viking. There are certainly zero signs that Toothless is nervous about Victor coming closer, especially as the Nightfury can't see any weaponry. That would be the only factor. Perhaps alongside fear — fearful vikings can be dangerous and unpredictable. But Victor looks interested, rather than fearful. That's a good sign, Toothless thinks.]

[onsilksheets]

[If she were made aware of his full name, Bela would certainly recognise it. But Wonderland was no stranger to plucking people with famous names- fictional in some worlds - from different times and places, dropping them into the mansion without even the slightest of warnings.

That being said, Bela wouldn't blame him for wanting to keep his identity a secret, knowing what connotations it brought along with it. She'd certainly be fascinated by the truth but he may be reluctant to share her enthusiasm for it. For all she knew, he could be wholly different from the fiction.

She watches the way he looks at her, the smile still in place.]

A pleasure to meet you as well, Victor.

[Now that pleasantries were exchanged and they were on a first name basis, she couldn't help but think about a follow on question, something that wouldn't be too intrusive or make him uncomfortable.]

How long have you been in Wonderland for?

[No asking for personal details or circumstances, just to find out how new he actually was. It was entirely possible that Victor had acquired an information pamphlet for himself already or he had people known to him here. People who could inform him about where he was.]

[equalmeasure]

[Rebekah knows a little something about having a reputation, about what it means to bear a name that sends shivers down the spines of those you've never even met. Many vampires did not know their origins, had no idea where they came from, but there were those that knew their lore, who'd gained it firsthand by dealing with the Mikaelsons themselves or had it passed on by others while both Klaus and Elijah took great care not to leave any written records of their history or movements behind. They only allowed others to learn what they wanted them to learn, but even that was enough.

Being an Original vampire meant power. It meant inspiring fear.

She lets out a brief and unassuming hmm as she steps forward, watching with some amusement as he gives that pointed look. His own manner of dress is familiar to her; it's been a long while since she's seen it firsthand, but she remembers it well. She'd been rather fond of the era in question.]

Truth be told, there doesn't seem to be one. No single standard that each and every captive is held to and measured against. Disorderly and unseemly.

[That seems to be how Wonderland likes to do most things, she's noticed. Chaotic.]

Do you have a name? It's rude not to introduce yourself when meeting a lady.

[lifeskills]

<sub>[Victor refrains from voicing the questions on his mind; he'd be just as better off looking into the answers himself than asking an uncooperative source. Are they being mannerly now? And here he'd thought it was the one thing he wasn't going to find down in these dank caverns at this time of night.

He turns the light out and away from himself to conceal the way interest in his identity--a thing of little import only a few days ago--causes a more grim thoughtfulness to hood his gaze. Giving the most intimate half of his name and only that half sits sits uncomfortably with him, but to give his full name risks further scrutiny, a thing he'd rather see deflected somewhere else.]</sub>

There's a standard for manners? I thought there were none to speak of.

_{[Though her own forthright way gives him room to quip, it doesn't change that there is a marked difference between entertaining a man and a woman. She wins, but only because it would be a pointless fight.]}

Victor. A, if the professional title pleases you more. _{["Doctor" does just as well as anything else. He can't imagine his first name being used in maintaining tepid acquaintances with people who aren't even close to him.]} Pleased to make your acquaintance.

_{[That done, it's just a matter of waiting for the next opportunity to excuse himself.]}

[lifeskills]

<sub>[The idea of Victor causing harm to this creature and not the other way around is hard to imagine. Forget an animal with sharpened teeth and claws, even a horse can break a man's bones if provoked. Though things don't seem to follow their natural laws here, Victor doesn't suppose an injury would hurt any less.

To avoid that outcome, a wish man might not test his luck, but there are times when Victor is too inquisitive for his own good, and damn the consequences. Despite himself, now might be one of those times.

He holds his hand out, not far from his body but just enough to let Toothless keep scenting him in the manner one greets a dog.]</sub>

[no_eels]

[The Nightfury looks at Victor's hand for only a moment before he takes a few more steps forward, slowly, and closes the distance between them. He presses his leathery, warm snout against the viking's hand, equally warm breath snuffling over it. His green eyes are wide, but not alarmingly so, as he trills quietly in the back of his throat, keen on communicating that he means no harm.

Just to get that out of the way.]

[lifeskills]

_{[He already feels intruded upon most of the time he steps foot outside of his loaned room, so it's a small matter to have someone question him on his stay.]}

Ah... not long. Days.

_{[It's a difficult thing to speak about so calmly as if one's understanding of the universe mustn't shift exponentially in accepting their place here. He looks down for a moment.]}

But I've heard it's a small length of time in comparison to some.

[onsilksheets]

You heard correctly. I have been here for about fifteen months now myself.

[Which was a considerable amount of time to be away from one's home. Bela is quiet as she contemplates that, speaking up after a moment.]

Some have been in Wonderland for years. And yet, there is always a chance that you'll be sent home again. It's happened before.

[lifeskills]

<sub>[Despite having taken great joy in the natural world and the corner of it the animal kingdom holds since childhood, Victor has never gotten so close to something so magnificent this easily.

A dragon tamer, he most certainly is not. Whoever had been teaching Toothless to live amongst humans deserves the credit for the moment he shares now.]</sub>

Well now, my boy, who do you belong to?

<sub>[He brings his hands to rest on either side of Toothless' massive jawline, measuring the distance between with his eyes. His best guess is male, and his best guess is usually right.

Victor doesn't expect an answer, though this being Wonderland, animals with the power of speech are supposed to be part and parcel of the appeal. Without his really realizing it, it's just easy to talk to it like a particularly charming pet... an exotic pet.]</sub>

If only you could talk, you could tell me what you are and how you come to be. Fly straight out off the page, did you?

_{[He punctuates the question by running a hand over the smooth, dry scales.]}

[lifeskills]

That long?

_{[Victor's surprise is more the kind of somber reflection than outright dismay. His eyebrows rise and fall with the revelation.]}

Years of not knowing whether you're coming or going, or why this has gone on so long? It strains the bounds of the imagination. I've been wondering how those my companion and I have encountered so far seem at peace with the idea of being here, living in this way. I suppose over a year is long enough to grow accustomed to anything.

[equalmeasure]

[She raises an eyebrow, vaguely impressed by the title itself, though it's fleeting.]

A doctor.

[Something that takes quite a bit of work and dedication, she knows that much, even if such pursuits were never of much interest to her or her brothers. She looks thoughtful for a moment; they've several doctors here, all different sorts, and for a brief moment she wonders what they all must think of one another. Surely they don't all see eye-to-eye.]

Rebekah Mikaelson. No fancy title to flaunt, unfortunately.

[As though she needs one to think highly of herself.]

A doctor of what, might I ask?

[onsilksheets]

There is also another possibility- some people have nothing to go home to at all so this, with the events and the occasional chaos, is the best chance that they have at having a life. That amount of time can have someone adapt and adjust to living here, even though they know what can happen in Wonderland.

[Bela was talking about people in general as well as herself; she stresses the former rather than the latter, unwilling to share too much about herself.]

They do what they need to do to survive. I can respect that.

[lifeskills]

_{[Victor has to shake his head with a noncommittal lift to his mouth that's not quite a smile.]}

We wouldn't do the job well if we let ourselves feel as self-important as you make it sound. And as it is, the natural sciences don't seem to hold much of a position of honor here.

<sub>[Though pride is surely one of his flaws, he doesn't intend to sound like he's bragging; it isn't worth antagonizing a conversation partner who seems to have no problems being barefaced with her thoughts. His interests had bade him enter into the surgeon's trade with the physician's knowledge, which could indeed earn respect if applied in the right circles, but without the physician's prestige and salary at his back, his reputation is not much to boast about.

If he does have a reputation for something, it's not for the kind of work he wants to be known for.]</sub>

But surgery is my specialty. _{[If someone cares to ask, he has no reason to withhold such information.]} Now that we've been introduced, does that allay your concerns about my suspicious character? Or is that a common problem in these parts?

_{[It's a tenuous position to take when most people should be asleep at this time of night, but he finds it hard to believe he's any more out of place in the caves than her.]}

[lifeskills]

_{[That's not a possibility Victor would have arrived at right away.]}

Here? In a world I haven't heard anyone claim as their own?

<sub>[What could be so calamitous that it would make a rationally-minded person want to abandon their position in one world and replace it with one that seems like little more than a poorly understood daydream?

And what could this Wonderland provide that life could not?]</sub>

What does this reality offer that the other doesn't?

[avoirfaim]

[ For someone with so little regard for the worth of (most) people, Hannibal doesn't often forget a face. He had been skimming the network in his growing irritability, and in all honesty hadn't paid enough attention to Victor and his friend the day before. They had existed, another pair of the newly kidnapped and confused, and that was all there was to it.

He barely glances out of the corner of his eyes at Victor as he adjusts the bible under his arm, but he recognizes him. He's new, and he's staring; an unfamiliar place is no excuse for rudeness. ]

Can I help you with something?

[ And he doesn't even look up from the pages of Good Omens that he's trying his damnedest to keep steady. ]

[equalmeasure]

They're given more respect than you might think. It's all a matter of timing.

[Wonderland was indeed a place comprised entirely of chaos and whimsy, of magic that could never be trusted or relied upon, as was often the case. Now and then, however, it seemed that people got hurt badly enough that no amount of help from the closets could cure their ills, and they certainly honored the natural sciences then.

Something about his response causes her to smirk; he's a difficult read, and she can't quite tell if he's stubborn or monotonously flippant or somewhere in between, but she finds herself amused all the same.]

If that was all it took to banish someone's concerns, darling, we'd none of us have any sense of self-preservation.

[Translation: no, but that's adorable that you think so.]

[onsilksheets]

Food. Shelter. Maybe even a few friends if they're lucky. There are worlds out there which are overrun with awful things- Wonderland is not as bad as those worlds.

[As for Bela herself she found friends and someone she had fallen for. She understood that not everyone here would be happy with the situation, but she knows how she felt about it, and that was all that mattered to her.]

Although, I don't blame you for wanting to return to where you're from.

[lifeskills]

<sub>[Anonymity gives him breathing room, and anonymity is what he hopes to maintain. Like with most things, this means a battle between personal curiosity and what is sensible.

He looks down before his impulse to ask gets the best of him.]</sub>

No... no. My apologies.

_{[A lie is better than nothing, and he's getting more and more used to spinning them. He slides the book in his hands back into place on the shelf.]}

[lifeskills]

<sub>[He lifts his eyebrows. Not knowing what to make of the other is a mutual quandary. What is this, half-compliments about his trade in one hand, and jibes toward reprobates in the other?

But this is Wonderland, as they say. Riddles and verbal sparring are supposed to be part of the tale.]</sub>

So... common, I should assume.

<sub>[There's a touch of sarcasm in the reply, given that he'd already had his fair share of danger and intrigue before stepping through a seam in the universe. Self-preservation he's finding is becoming more and more difficult.

On top of that, he's no threat himself. The idea that he would be makes him want to laugh at the last few months and the tiring cat-and-mouse struggle against the Monster and other supernatural creatures. He doesn't, of course, but dark humor colors his next response all the same.]</sub>

Well, no need for you to stay in suspense. I won't keep you from your business.

[lifeskills]

<sub>[In this life, there are hungers that compel us. Food. Shelter. Warmth. Even poetry. But one thing stands titanic. The words, spoken on day distinguished by the darkest grief, echo in his ears, turning his gaze distant for a second.

His world? His world and his life in it have their share of awful aspects, but they're his. If he doesn't admit how ineffectual it is to run from those things now, when will he? Not even imagining an escape to a new world can set right all of the wrongs he'd leave behind.]</sub>

A pleasant daydream. Who among us hasn't thought about starting new somewhere the past can't reach. _{[Victor glances at the woman.]} But if there's no rhyme or reason to who arrives here, who's to say those awful things won't follow?

_{[And what's the point, then? It's not much of a sanctuary in that light.]}