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

Vincent - @/hawk

Vincent turned up his chin, watching the other blinker’s body language with his finger still partially hiding his smirk. L clearly thought highly of himself, but he’d yet to prove himself as very impressive. He was starting to be a bit entertaining, however, so the man chose to stay engaged.

“To humor me?” he suggested with a small shrug in response to the detective’s question. He said nothing as L turned on him, remaining unresponsive for a few seconds before grinning and leaning forwards to meet the other blinker’s gaze. “Of course,” he agreed in a soft voice, as if what L had said were obvious - and it had been foolish of the man to think it needed to be said. “Should we try a room?” he suggested promptly after, expression lighting up at the idea. “…Only if your feeling confident you won’t end up like…that other one.” He gave pause, forgetting poor Joey’s name before ultimately deciding it wasn’t important. He hadn’t been the real killer, but it was a fun role to play; particularly when his company likely knew he was only doing it out of sport.

“I don’t know if it could create something imperfect,” Orpheus replied after a minute, brow furrowing as he thought. “I mean… I’m sure it did, when it was first starting out, if it is a living thing. Nobody is good at something form the moment they start doing it. So maybe its first attempts were imperfect, but it’s been practicing for so long that it doesn’t know how to do it that way anymore? Or maybe it’s just far enough away from human that it doesn’t understand imperfection. Maybe it wants to, though… maybe that’s why it’s having us do this, here, when we’re already surrounded by perfectly adequate blankets.” They just seemed… impersonal. He didn’t know too much about the future, didn’t really know much at all about factories, but he could tell that the blankets wrapped around his and Eurydice’s shoulders weren’t handmade. There was no love in them, no care. They were just… well, they seemed like they were probably exactly the same as millions of other blankets out there.
“I believe we’re getting something of value out of it as well.” Orpheus’ voice was soft, as though he hadn’t entirely expected the words to escape him. His eyes widened just a little bit and he looked down, tying off some of his own strips.
“I just mean… I don’t think we’ll be able to keep the blanket or anything, but we get to take something out of this room. We… would never have had this conversation were it not for the House giving us this room and this task.” Orpheus was distinctly aware of the fact that he was getting closer to Eurydice. He could feel himself inching closer with every knot he tied, every strip he cut… he wanted to be next to her, though he couldn’t explain to himself exactly why.
“I don’t profess to know the House’s intent. I don’t know if any of us ever will. But… I think we can take something valuable from this room, even if it is just using us to create something imperfect and wonderful. I… I’m grateful for the chance to talk. I just mean… I don’t have very many friends. It’s… nice to have someone to talk to.”

“Exactly,” Orpheus replied, glancing up at Eurydice as he finished tying off another strip. His, too, had gotten more even as he had progressed. He had learned how far in to cut – though he thought some of his strips were shorter than Eurydice’s… it wouldn’t be a perfect blanket, but they weren’t aiming for perfect. They were aiming for human. For handmade. For something that would show that both of them were there, that they had created something together that hadn’t existed when they had walked into the room. Sure, the fleece had existed, but it had needed them to become… well, what it was now.
He noticed that she didn’t comment on the friend part… had he been too forward? Should he back off? He often just… said what he thought without considering that the way he formed bonds quickly might not be reflected in the people he found himself growing close to. He had thought L trusted him long before he did, for example… he wasn’t offended that L didn’t trust him yet or that Eurydice didn’t consider him a friend. She was nice, and he wanted to keep talking to her. He wanted to get to know her better.
“I think this counts as a nice room,” Orpheus murmured, fingers hesitating as he reached for his next strip. He was suddenly struck with the fact that he didn’t want this to end. He could possibly make it last a little bit longer…
“What’s… your world like?” he asked after a moment, a hum building in his throat as he turned back to the blanket. He didn’t know if she’d be interested in talking about it, but… if she was willing, he found he wanted to hear.

Kid | Forest Room | ®Hawkpath®

"Metaphorically," Kid said, with almost an amused snort tacked to the end of his statement. "Sadly. I could deal with physically lost."

He did look around the room though. He had no idea what to say about yet another forest room. He also wasn't particularly sure what point this one might have.

Distantly, he heard bird song, before several of them flew across an open patch of forest ahead. Bright wings. Not distressed, either. Just ... flying.

"What I wouldn't give for a peaceful room," Kid muttered under his breath, turning up his collar as he did.

"Would you like to take a walk, detective?"

He indicated some grassy animal track between the trees.

The Doctor | The Living Room | <Raintalon> the quote destroyer

Interesting! The Doctor could not express how interesting that was for her! She did almost end up clapping her hands. Whoops.

"Fascinating," she said. "Highly adaptable. And what is it that you do on Earth?"

She was curious. She doubted that Asami was from her own universe, but that was always a possibility, wasn't it?

"Ah! Yes! Blink! It's the word they use here when you appear and disappear from this place. Have you heard it's called the Paradox House yet?"

This might prove that Asami was a newer blinker than the Doctor, now it came to be here. This wasn't something which the Doctor minded - explaining, that was. Whatever helped.

"And how long have you been appearing here?" she wondered.

Sam | Doodle Jump Room | strider

With this bit of elation, Sam nodded several times and then looked up at the platforms. There were several wood ones, which he was not sure about. But there was also one within jumping range that did not look like it would break at the slightest touch. Sam pointed toward it and then did the same countdown as before, before he jumped. This was ... a whole lot more fun than he expected when he started this.
Again, the platform was not hard to reach and when he landed, Sam steadied himself against Nico ever so slightly.
"You doing alright?" he asked the demigod with a touch of a smile. "This a fun room?" He wasn't sure if it was or it wasn't for Nico. He hoped it was.

L Lawliet | Chess Room | strider

L didn’t see it that way. He didn’t see how, if it wasn’t your fault, it could possibly be a real betrayal. It might feel like one, but that was an emotional reaction, not one he could use to actually tell what he thought. It wasn’t you if the House changed you enough. There was, of course, the possibility that the House could influence you without changing you completely...that could possibly count as a betrayal, he decided. But only if you still had some sort of control over yourself. Only if you were still in there somewhere. And it was less your fault than if you hadn’t been at all influenced.
L considered the question for a long moment, nodding a little. It was a good one, and it showed something about Orpheus that he had suspected but not confirmed.
Orpheus was trusting, and he was a terrible liar. He might have even been a touch naive, but...he could think of scenarios where someone would lie, if they thought it was in their best interest. He wasn’t paranoid, but he wasn’t oblivious, either.
“That would be a betrayal, yes,” he replied thoughtfully. “Both the lie and the actual event. But it misses the point of trust, I think. If, somehow, I was led into a situation where I trusted the wrong person...I would be in grave danger for that reason, because there isn’t a way to tell. I would trust that the House forced their hand, and I would be incorrect and possibly die.”
He fell silent, blinking a little. He didn’t really want to admit he was exhausted, but he couldn’t ignore it, not completely. It was just...there. In the back of his head, and the rest of his head, too. He knew Orpheus could tell. It was probably useless to try and deny it, even if he was nervous to try to sleep.
“It may,” he admitted, letting Orpheus come closer. He shifted on the couch to make room for him in case he wanted to sit down. “Humming may help, too. It’s difficult to say exactly what may work, but…” he shook his head. “Sleeping here is probably about as safe as it’s going to get for a while.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Nico replied, breathless. He made sure Sam was steady before he straightened himself and managed to lift his gaze up. It seemed… well, it seemed never ending, platform upon platform upon platform leading up into the sky… if they kept going, would they end up in space? It was an enticing thought. Nico had never imagined going to space, but it seemed like a cool thing to do, even if it was just in the House. Then again… there was no such thing as ‘just’ when it came to the House.
“This is fun,” he confirmed after a long moment, flashing a shy smile at Sam. “I’ve never done anything like this. I… I enjoy it.” As long as he didn’t look down, but he didn’t say that. No point adding a qualifier like that when the easiest way to get around it was just… choosing not to let himself look down.
“Should we try for that one up there with a spring?”

Czeslaw - amp room - L, Orpheus, unconscious Hook

He adjusted his shoulders with a sigh, as if trying to relax but struggling. Czeslaw wasn't much of a team player, so even the idea of working with the other two to solve this made him uncomfortable. You really couldn't depend on other people, especially when this was kind of important.
Still, he was thankful for Orpheus to figure out the method. That was exactly what he had been counting on him for, and why he had been pressuring him so badly. The poet had made himself useful.
Czeslaw drew closer to the place he wanted to change, hoping his body would be in the way and no one would see him switch the words 'god' and 'immortality'. It only took a couple of taps, and he drew away having held his breath the whole time.
They didn't need to know any more about him than necessary.
The rest of the section that contained his words was more innocuous--something about friendship and time. Even to someone else, the lines he changed could be seen as innocent, but to him they only brought up thoughts of violence and tragedy, not to mention secrets that should not be out.
"It's almost there," he said, looking at the other two expectantly. He looked drained, especially under his eyes, and it was apparent he couldn't last much longer in here.

Orpheus was getting the sense that their world was very, very different from Starling’s. It was possible it was the same world… it was possible that what Starling was describing lay in the future. A very, very far distant future, granted, but a future nonetheless. The idea of it was disconcerting, and hearing more about it did nothing to change that initial impression. There were likely reasons behind Starling’s world being as it was, but Orpheus didn’t know if they were good reasons. People in power tended to try to justify anything to themselves, and then twist it so their way of life was palatable to the people they were exploiting. Somehow, Starling’s situation sounded an awful lot more complicated. Orpheus was careful to hold their tongue, regardless of what they thought of Starling’s government.
“That seems… stressful,” they murmured, shaking their head just a little bit. “I mean… it sounds like you’ve done an awful lot of training, and you don’t know what that training is for?” Orpheus couldn’t imagine that. Perhaps it was because they had a hard time starting something without a clear end goal (they had started music lessons with Apollo because they wanted to play well, they had made their own rudimentary chessboard on the ship because they wanted to try to be at least sort of a match for L next time they played), but they couldn’t fathom working their whole life for something other people had control over. Something others knew about but refused to share.
“I hope you find out soon,” they added, meeting Starling’s eyes. “I’m sure it’s something important, and… whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll do well. I hope… well, I hope it’s better than you expect it to be.” They hated that the reassurance was all they could offer.
“People don’t live beyond fifty?” Orpheus asked shocked. Of course, life expectancy wasn’t terribly high, but once you had reached your fifties… “We tend to regard elders as important, where I’m from. They’re full of stories and wisdom, all sorts of things they can offer the younger generations. I would say that once you reach fifty, you gain a lot of respect. People try to make sure that you don’t need anything… that you’re taken care of, because you spent fifty years caring for the community.”
Orpheus’ eyes narrowed just a little bit. “Spectra?” Their accent came out a little bit as they tried to pronounce the unfamiliar word. It was similar to words they had heard before, but they doubted it was related. Spectra sounded like living things, not like the colored light the word evoked when Orpheus tried to imagine ‘spectra.’
“Do you live underground?” Orpheus asked, curiosity piqued. “I don’t know what it’s like underground, so I don’t really know how to compare, but the sun… well, the sun is amazing. I like it, at least… it’s a little bit too hot in the summers, if I’m being honest, but… it’s… there’s no word I can use to describe it other than life. It burns, sometimes, when you spend too long outside, but it makes the sky blue, and it shines off the clouds, even when it’s raining, so you know it’s always going to be there. And sunrises and sunsets… you’ve never seen color before if you haven’t seen the sun coming over the horizon or just sinking down below. It’s… it’s red and purple and orange and your heart feels like it’s going to burst if you can’t save that moment forever, especially if you’re there with someone you care about. Does… being underground mean you’ve never seen the sea?”
Orpheus trailed off, letting their mouth close as they listened to Starling speak again. They weren’t entirely certain how to respond. The idea that Starling might never be able to figure out what he would have done if he had been given the option to do anything in the world… it was heartbreaking.
“I… would try talking to the gods,” they managed after a long moment, lifting their gaze up to meet Starling’s. “On the off chance that they’re still there, at least. I would check in on them… ask them how they’re doing… ask if they have anything they want to share, whether it’s a story or a trinket.”
The poet watched approvingly as Starling held the lyre, a small smile coming across their face at the delicacy Starling was using.
“It is fragile, if you throw it at the ground or anything, but you don’t have to be quite that gentle. I promise it won’t just fall apart on you.” Orpheus took a few steps forward, reaching an arm out to ask permission before they gently adjusted Starling’s grip on the instrument.
“Your note sounded good,” they murmured, a smile bursting across their face. “Chords are just collections of notes played at the same time. Once you learn which notes sound good together, you won’t make sounds you don’t like ever again.”

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

L watched, narrowing his eyes as the words - the puzzle - on the wall. It was...it was poetry and a puzzle, all at once. He supposed that made sense. He was good at puzzles, and Orpheus was good at poetry. Maybe Czeslaw was good at one of them, too, although he had a hard time imagining either the immortal or the pirate writing poetry. Then again, he wasn’t going to pretend he knew either of them that well. He didn’t know them very well at all, actually. Especially Hook.
Which did make him want to rethink what he’d been told about people dying permanently in the House. Since Hook had been the one to tell him that, and he didn’t have confirmation from a trusted source...he shook his head. This wasn’t the time.
“Ah…” he mused, eyeing the words as they switched. He leaned forward, looking over Czeslaw’s shoulder at the ones he was switching, ones that he probably understood...he filed that information away for later, assuming he couldn’t make sense of it in this room.
He tried not to think too hard about that. He would get it back outside this room. He had to.
He switched his own words, one about criminals and how to catch them. That much, at least, he knew how to accomplish. He switched another couple of words, fixing the sentence as best he could.
“We need Hook,” he said after a moment, glancing back at the pirate. “I don’t think we can do his section.”

Wylan couldn’t help the thrill of pride that ran through him as Matt recognized that he ‘got it.’ He had a feeling he did, but having it confirmed by someone who Wylan’s mind had designated almost immediately as ‘cool’ was incredibly gratifying. He… wasn’t going to straight up tell Matt that he worked with explosions on a regular basis, though. In Ketterdam, a fact like that would either get you killed, get you hired, or get you a really tight group of friends. Wylan hadn’t been here long enough to be able to tell which response was more likely here.
“If you’re coming with, then you must get it, too,” Wylan replied, a grin snaking out across his lips as he looked at Spook. He didn’t know how dangerous this was going to be, but… danger was exciting. He used to love hearing stories when he was growing up, especially stories about the Saints. About people who had gone above and beyond what was expected of them, who had faced danger and saved the world… Wylan knew he wasn’t the type that could save the world. But he wanted his life to be a little bit more exciting. Going into one of these ‘rooms’ seemed like a good first step. Or rather… second or third step. Getting himself established in Ketterdam’s crime ring seemed like a pretty solid first step, and he’d already managed to do that.