~ Tнє Pαяα∂σχ Hσυѕє ~ now back to regularly scheduled chaos

Ah. So that attempt at conversation hadn’t gone over well… Orpheus gave a small sigh, wishing he could have anticipated better what the other blinker wanted to talk about. If he didn’t want to talk about his world… well, that was fine, it just meant that Orpheus needed to find a better conversation topic for next time. He had to hope he could come up with something more interesting.
“A room might be nice,” Orpheus replied, trying to keep his tone pleasant, like he hadn’t noticed how displeased Vince was by his chosen topic of conversation. “Have you been in any nice ones lately?”

Starling | Living Room | strider

Starling nodded eagerly at what Orpheus was saying. He didn’t really know much about this kind of thing, so he just SOAKED up all the new information like a dry sponge. “That’s really interesting. I guess music is a bit like a Designation assignment, in a way. You need to work at it to develop your skills.” That made sense to Starling. He didn’t start out knowing how to perform his Designation at birth--it was all training and time. Even now, he wasn’t quite sure he was ready. It would help if we actually knew what they wanted us to DO up there… But that being said, there were physical and mental examinations done frequently by the Aptitude branch that placed you on a certain Designation course. So maybe there was a bit of natural talent involved, too, who knew? That was how Starling met the other avians--they were all assigned to a squad group at 12 years old. An oddball squad that should never have existed, some people said. But, well, who cared about them?

“Apollo…” The name meant something to Starling, and he hesitated when he heard it. It took him a second to remember exactly WHAT it meant, until a face popped up in his head: someone he had met only recently, after receiving his role as squad leader. Unusual pale blue eyes, pale white hair and skin.

Athena. The Governor’s Dog.

He drew in a breath. That was right. Apollo and Athena--both Greek Gods, in the texts he had read. Of course, the Athena he’d met wasn’t the real Athena--or he sure hoped she wasn’t, anyway. But the names formed a connection in his head. “I can’t believe you were taught by the real Apollo… It kind of blows my mind,” Starling said with a shy smile.

He watched with intent as Orpheus began to play, eyes following their fingers as they danced over the strings. It was like nothing he had ever heard before, and his heart skipped in his chest. It almost felt like he might cry for a second. The music was soft and lyrical, but very intentional, too. Like a story, but bending all the sound around into one big beautiful mess. And the more he listened, the more SENSE the mess made, like he was learning just by listening to it. He didn’t want to interrupt, so he saved his questions--kind of hoping the song wouldn’t end. But when it did, he broke into a grin.

“Wow,” Starling said for probably the fiftieth time, not sure if clapping would be the appropriate response. Did people clap for music? He didn’t want to risk accidentally insulting Orpheus, so he didn’t. “Suddenly it makes a lot more sense that you were taught by Apollo. That was… really really--beautiful.” He found himself struggling to find the right words. It was kind of like when Arlo showed him her magic--there just weren’t words in his vocabulary to respond to things like this. He hoped his expression would be enough to convey just how freaking COOL this was for him.

“What’s the first thing Apollo ever taught you?” Starling finally asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

Kelsier | Dreams Room | strider

Kelsier wasn’t paying close enough attention.
He was watching Hades’ face. - Nico’s face, but Hades was the one behind his eyes - and he was trying to be careful, but the truth was that he was too preoccupied by the way his heart was shattering all over again.
Dead. Dead at his hand. It wasn’t Nico, but it felt like it was. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even breathe. He felt like he was the one dead in the ground.
And then he really couldn’t breathe as the kick landed and he was knocked back, pain flooding his entire body.
He sucked in a sharp breath as Hades slid out of his grasp, as he backed away...and flinched back, scrambling to the back of the tent. - room, the tent wasn’t real - and tensing as he prepared for hands to grab him and hold him down. Surely if Hades was alive, there would be punishments for this. Surely if Hades breathed, he’d do his absolute best to make Kelsier regret this.
He grit his teeth, eyes flashing as he glared at Hades. He didn’t speak. He wouldn’t beg. He would take whatever happened next, and he wouldn’t give Hades the satisfaction of crying out.

Czes - amp room - L, Orpheus, unconscious Hook

"Uhh... no," he answered L. At least, it wasn't a readily apparent way out. "It seems like-" He was trying to figure out a way to describe it, "Poetry." It was some kind of boring, personal poetry someone had written about their own emotions. It was not at all something Czes would be interested in, or could relate to. But it did seem kind of tragic and desperate, so the fact that it was etched into a wall was a little worrying. Then when Czeslaw noticed Orpheus coming up behind him, he whipped around and aimed the sword. Orpheus had been acting a little... off just now, and he didn't like it. He was better off safe than sorry.

"Whoa, back up," he ordered with a blatant glare, feet planted on the ground but body leaning away as he brought the blade forward. From his perspective he had every right to defend himself, but it was a much more aggressive gesture than he would usually make.

Vincent - @/hawk

“Ah,” the blond sighed, unsurprised. He stared at the man as he vocalized his exasperation with the House, silently studying him until he eventually lowered the book and met his gaze in silence. He let the silence hang briefly, then took a breath to speak before the other blinker could risk feeling obligated to speak up again.
“Do you find comfort in looking through them?” He asked, reaching past the detective to grab a blank book for himself. He stepped back, giving the other blinker a more comfortable distance between them as he began to thumb through the empty pages. These books had served a purpose once, but there was no draw to them any longer. “Or are you simply bored?”

L | Living Room | ~∂єѕтιиу

L didn’t look away from Vincent. His face was, as always, a mask, unreadable to any but those who knew him best, and then only some.
He didn’t move as the other man reached past him. He could have widened the distance, but something made him want to avoid that if he could, besides...he really didn’t have a sense of personal space to invade in the first place. He wasn’t bothered.
“Neither,” he replied, watching Vincent closely. He didn’t expect there to be anything in the book, but who knew? “It’s strategic. The House seems to push us, yes? It toys with us, tests us, it says, ’will you go this far? What about this far? What will you do now?’”
He tapped the spine of his book thoughtfully. “There is no harm in looking in the books. None that anyone I’ve met is aware of, at least. But it would annoy me if the answer was ever written in one and we simply gave up on finding it.”

“What’s a Designation assignment?” Orpheus asked, eyes widening at the unfamiliar term. They loved hearing about other people’s worlds, learning their intricacies and hearing the sorts of things their acquaintances got up to. What sort of things did Starling enjoy doing in his world? What sort of a world would outlaw music, when music was capable of making people feel things? Was it possible it had been banned because it had such immense power? Orpheus knew people tended to underestimate them because they were just a musician and a poet. They weren’t a great warrior, they didn’t know how to fight – the last time they had attempted to throw a punch, they had broken their thumb. But they could make people feel things, and that was just as powerful, in their mind.
Apollo seemed to have some meaning for Starling, which… well, Orpheus didn’t think they were pleased about that. It was easier to accept that music had been banned in a world that was different from the one they inhabited. Starling recognizing the name meant that the life he was living – the one where there was no music – that was one possible future for Orpheus’ earth. They would never live long enough to see it, but the fact that it could still happen wasn’t pleasant to consider.
“I didn’t expect you to know the name,” Orpheus admitted, blushing a little bit as they scratched at the back of their neck. “Apollo is still much better than me, but I suppose that’s to be expected by the god of music. I like to think I’ve been able to make him proud.” They doubted that Apollo would have given them the lyre if they hadn’t managed to please the god at least a little bit. “If you’re from the future,” they ventured, lifting their gaze to meet Starling’s, “That probably means the gods aren’t as involved in your version of the world as they are in mine. I’ve met a few people from a possible future version of my world. None of them have reported ever seeing the gods, but I know very few people in my world who have never interacted with one even once.”
Orpheus very tentatively set the instrument aside once they had finished, a pleased blush spreading across their face at Starling’s response.
“Thank you,” the murmured, the pink on their cheeks not dying down quite yet. “I’ve worked really hard to improve. It’s… well, I suppose you could say it’s my life’s work.”
They moved the guitar back into position, shifting so Starling could have a better view of what their fingers were doing.
“The first thing Apollo showed me was… well, I suppose it’s a little boring in the grand scheme of things, but you can’t build a temple without having all the bricks first. He showed me how to play each individual note, and eventually, which ones combine to make nice sounds. Once you know the notes… well, there’s a lot more to learn, but the hardest part is learning the finger placement and associating that with the sound the instrument makes. I’d be happy to teach you that part, if you’d like…?”

Nico put a hand to his neck, breath coming in hard as he tried to regain his bearings. He knew Kelsier could attack again. He knew that he could be on the floor within moments, knew that Kelsier could and would choke the life out of him if it made him think he was winning. It hurt. It hurt more than anything else ever had, hurt more than the feeling of Hades slicing at his neck, bringing him inches away from death, it hurt more than knowing that he caused the apocalypse.
He was aware enough of his surroundings that he could look at Kelsier, tears brimming in his eyes as he met the hatred in Kelsier’s for less than a moment. He couldn’t face it. He couldn’t stand the way Kelsier was looking at him, like he was the epitome of everything wrong with the world. He knew he was. He knew this was his fault.
“I think I hate you,” he managed, his voice strained and gravelly. His lip wobbled as he spoke, though he tried to keep his expression steady. “I think I hate you for giving me hope. For… for being the last good person on Earth, because if you hadn’t been… if you hadn’t been, it wouldn’t hurt so bad when you broke.”

L | Chess Post | strider

“How many times have you blinked in?” L asked curiously. “Or...do you know that? It’s come to my attention that not everyone keeps track.”
He knew how many blinks he’d had, but he didn’t know anyone else who knew. At least...he didn’t know if anyone else knew. Maybe they did. How could he tell?
“At any rate...you haven’t been blinking as long as I have,” he continued confidently, because he knew that much at least was true. Though if he’d known Orpheus met his younger self, that might have made him wonder a little more.
“There’s no reason to do it alone,” he added seriously. “Using resources is always the best option. It’s like chess. Why only use one piece when you’re far more likely to win using everything you have? You can use people the same way - with their permission and agreement of course - to succeed at most things you’re trying to accomplish. So, yes, doing it alone isn’t the best option.”
Of course, that did require an element of trust. For L, that was something he wasn’t necessarily willing to give. But there were other ways of using people that didn’t require trust, ways he made use of in his own world. Doing things from a distance, for instance. Background checks. Learning about the people you worked with, figuring them out. And then making it as generally hard to get to him as he could.
None of which worked in the House. No wonder he was so careful, here.
He did, of course, catch on that Orpheus was ignoring his current situation, and his eyes narrowed very slightly. He wanted Orpheus to be safe, but he was aware that that wasn’t always possible...he was hardly one to judge, considering how he lived.
He didn’t trust the crew now to kill Orpheus. He didn’t trust them in any way, really.
“There are people I like,” he agreed softly, watching as Orpheus took in his words. He tilted his head a little bit. “Kid and Myrnin, mainly. But I don’t trust them. Not completely. I can predict their movements, to some extent, and that means I can guess what they might do, but if they were to do something completely unexpected, I would consider that they might mean me or someone else harm. If you or Watari did something unexpected, I wouldn’t need to know why to feel safe. That’s what I mean.”
He met Orpheus’ eyes steadily. “It’s too late. I’ve already decided,” he added simply. “I’m sure. And I’m almost never wrong.”

L Lawliet | Zombie Room | strider <Raintalon>

L could tell Watari didn’t entirely bekeive what he was being told. Or...he probably beloved he didn’t understand what was being communicated. The end result was the same either way. Watari wasn’t aware of how the House worked and he wasn’t going to be aware until he found something he couldn’t explain.
Fair enough. That was how L had been, too.
He froze as the sound reached him. Yes...he heard it. Movement. Groaning. The same sounds as he’d head before.
He looked at Orpheus and Watari, eyes wide. He was leading for a reason. If something happened, he needed to be there to stop it,
He turned back and crept up higher, as silent as possible.

L Lawliet | Amplifier Room | strider ~∂єѕтιиу Razzle Dazzle

“Poetry?” L repeated, opening his eyes again to look at Czeslaw, a small frown in his face.
There was something odd about his expression, it wasn’t immediately clear what it was, until you realized that it was that it existed at all.
L Lawliet’s mask was missing almost entirely.
His face, usually carefully controlled, was open and vulnerable, his dark eyes fixed on the poetry and the immortal with clear curiosity.
He looked up in surprise as Orpheus stood, and almost reached out to catch his arm, but froze as the sword whipped around and pointed ar Orpheus.
“Hey!” He protested, pushing himself to his feet and leaning on the chair a little to make sure he didn’t fall over again. “There’s no need for that...this is unnecessary. I trust Orpheus.”

"That might be more along the lines of different social classes having different foods," Myrnin admitted. Almost sadly. Even he was aware that Kelsier's world was not the best when it came to looking after its people.
Myrnin set the cookies aside and then approached Kelsier and the last piece. As far as the vampire knew, it was the last piece as well.
The other man grinned, then added this final piece, sticking it into place and did a little dance-wiggle on this completion. Then he looked expectantly at Kelsier, eyes wide.
"Now what?" he breathed.

“How many times have I…?” Orpheus hesitated as L asked the question. “I don’t know,” he admitted, frowning as he tried to run through every time he had appeared. He had been blinking in more frequently since joining the crew of the Argo, and he was getting to the point where his blinks were numerous enough that he was having a difficult time telling how many there had been. “Perhaps… around thirty?” he replied after a long moment, deciding that an estimate would be much less time consuming than trying to figure out the actual number. He might try to count his blinks next time he had a few free minutes, but for now he didn’t want to waste any of the time they could be spending talking about other things.
“You do keep track,” he added, and it wasn’t a question. It was interesting to him that L was able to keep track… once upon a time Orpheus might have been able to, but he thought he had lost count somewhere around seven. At that point, he had admitted to himself that he was just going to have to get used to blinking. He was curious now, though, how often he had blinked in. He was sure L could tell him how many blinks they had shared, but that wasn’t the same thing.
“Why did you ask?” he asked after another moment, curious what it had to do with their conversation. Was it something about how many potentially helpful people he had met? He didn’t know how to ask the others to take on the task he had given himself. It would be difficult. Orpheus didn’t know if the House itself would be willing to change. He didn’t know for sure if he could decrease the number of terrible rooms in the future. What he could do was make friends and be there for them when they were hurt by rooms. He could try to make people feel better in the bad rooms and uplift them even more in the good rooms. He could get people to try to be positive with him… yes, it was something that he would take advantage of the people he knew to help him with. There were a large number of very positive people that Orpheus thought would want to make this happen as much as he did.
It was interesting to hear L talk about trust. He saw it very differently from Orpheus, but Orpheus thought he liked L’s version of trust better. His own was more all-encompassing, but L’s… it was intimate, safe.
“I’m honored,” he murmured after a long moment, not daring to look away from L. “I won’t let you down or do anything intentionally that might break your trust. I think… well, it’s a gift that I didn’t know was precious until you handed it to me.”

Orpheus couldn’t read Watari nearly as well as L could, but even he could tell that Watari didn’t really believe what they were telling him about the House. That was… fine. Eventually he would understand. Or, maybe if L had his way, Watari would never understand and he would be perfectly safe. That was… probably preferable. Even if Watari were to just discount this as a strange dream, it was probably for the best that he not come back, so L wouldn’t have to worry about him here, too.
Orpheus’ thoughts were interrupted by the low, haunting sound of something that wasn’t quite human. He glanced over at L, believing fully in his gut response to situations like this that Orpheus had never been in before. Sure, Watari was probably more experienced. Sure, L trusted Watari. But Orpheus didn’t know Watari very well, he just knew L. And it seemed a plan was already formulating in the detective’s head. A plan that Orpheus trusted would help them all get out of there. He followed a few steps behind, careful to keep his steps as silent as possible. The best course of action would be to not draw the zombies’ attention at all. But what of their sense of smell? If they were found… Orpheus shook the thought away. Just… creep upstairs as quickly and as quietly as possible. That was all he had to do. Simple… just not as simple as it sounded.