Huvrye Tirvio (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
effiomsfavorite) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metalogs2022-11-30 01:46 pm
effiomsfavorite) wrote in metalogs2022-11-30 01:46 pm
Open | Obligatory Pretty Woman Montage Reference Here
Who: Huvrye effiomsfavorite and whoever would like to join in
What: Huvrye has never experienced civilian life, and now he's in a new world with an unlimited credit card. This is the venn diagram overlap of Fish Out Of Water and Shopping Montage.
When: Late November/Early December - within the first few days after his arrival
Where: Central City
Content Warnings: None so far, will be labeled if they come up
1. The Pretty Woman shopping montage
[Huvrye has never been shopping in his life. It's been all military uniforms for day one, and they only got as personalized as patches with his identification number and, when he received one after surviving basic, his name. So getting clothes to replace his - because his shirt is still stained despite his best attempts to wash it - needs to happen.]
[You might see him in a department store, looking very lost in the men's section. He's not spoiled for choice so much as he is paralyzed by it. How is he supposed to choose?]
[Or you may see him in that same department store, having discovered the Hawaiian shirts. He's holding one that's bright blue and patterned with pink flowers and looking absolutely delighted. Someone please keep him from buying nothing but Hawaiian shirts, because he absolutely will.]
[Or you may find him later, on a street lined by boutiques, being firmly escorted from one of the fancier ones. He doesn't resist - it doesn't look like he's been causing trouble - but he definitely glares at the door as it shuts behind him. He's been treated like a person for a few days now, and it turns out going back to being treated like a lesser being stings after that.]
[(It's possible the boutique doesn't like metas; it's also entirely possible they threw him out for bad taste, because he's definitely wearing a brightly patterned sweater. It's not quite Ugly Christmas Sweater territory, but it's very close.)]
2. Lunchtime
[It's been a while since Huvrye has eaten - he'd been given a hot drink when he was helping with the snowstorm a few days back, and before that he can't really remember. But he's got the time now, and the money, and he can still hear Gozol's warning about aura poisoning rattling around in his head, so he might as well get a meal. He'd found something near the Diadem hotel called a Food Court, and upon arrival...well, it's the same issue as the department store: too many choices, zero context. He's at least found a map of the place, and is looking it over (and trying his hardest not to miss Yin, because even if Yin didn't have context for this world in particular, he might at least know more). He sees you passing, and waves you over.]
Hey, is this-
[He points at a completely random listing without even looking at it.]
-any good?
3. Lobby
[Huvrye has seen places this fancy before, sure, but they were for top brass and rich civs. He still hasn't quite wrapped his mind around the fact that he's staying in the Diadem Hotel himself, if only temporarily, but he's still taking advantage of it. For now, he's sitting in the lobby, in one of the plush chairs, wings splayed out over the sides and draping onto the floor, people watching. He's still not used to the fact that he's the only homunculus here, the only fairy - it's weird to be in a fancy civ place not to see the bright colors of salon-modified wings everywhere he looks. Still, his sweater is cozy, and the coffee he'd picked up on the way here has salted caramel in it (which is a new and fantastic experience for him) - he can be comfortable here for a while. Join him, observe him, judge him for getting his coffee from Starbucks - either way, he's not going anywhere for a bit.]
4. Wildcard
[Got another idea? Write your own prompt or hit me up at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
kiaxet or Kiaxet#7085!]
effiomsfavorite and whoever would like to join inWhat: Huvrye has never experienced civilian life, and now he's in a new world with an unlimited credit card. This is the venn diagram overlap of Fish Out Of Water and Shopping Montage.
When: Late November/Early December - within the first few days after his arrival
Where: Central City
Content Warnings: None so far, will be labeled if they come up
1. The Pretty Woman shopping montage
[Huvrye has never been shopping in his life. It's been all military uniforms for day one, and they only got as personalized as patches with his identification number and, when he received one after surviving basic, his name. So getting clothes to replace his - because his shirt is still stained despite his best attempts to wash it - needs to happen.]
[You might see him in a department store, looking very lost in the men's section. He's not spoiled for choice so much as he is paralyzed by it. How is he supposed to choose?]
[Or you may see him in that same department store, having discovered the Hawaiian shirts. He's holding one that's bright blue and patterned with pink flowers and looking absolutely delighted. Someone please keep him from buying nothing but Hawaiian shirts, because he absolutely will.]
[Or you may find him later, on a street lined by boutiques, being firmly escorted from one of the fancier ones. He doesn't resist - it doesn't look like he's been causing trouble - but he definitely glares at the door as it shuts behind him. He's been treated like a person for a few days now, and it turns out going back to being treated like a lesser being stings after that.]
[(It's possible the boutique doesn't like metas; it's also entirely possible they threw him out for bad taste, because he's definitely wearing a brightly patterned sweater. It's not quite Ugly Christmas Sweater territory, but it's very close.)]
2. Lunchtime
[It's been a while since Huvrye has eaten - he'd been given a hot drink when he was helping with the snowstorm a few days back, and before that he can't really remember. But he's got the time now, and the money, and he can still hear Gozol's warning about aura poisoning rattling around in his head, so he might as well get a meal. He'd found something near the Diadem hotel called a Food Court, and upon arrival...well, it's the same issue as the department store: too many choices, zero context. He's at least found a map of the place, and is looking it over (and trying his hardest not to miss Yin, because even if Yin didn't have context for this world in particular, he might at least know more). He sees you passing, and waves you over.]
Hey, is this-
[He points at a completely random listing without even looking at it.]
-any good?
3. Lobby
[Huvrye has seen places this fancy before, sure, but they were for top brass and rich civs. He still hasn't quite wrapped his mind around the fact that he's staying in the Diadem Hotel himself, if only temporarily, but he's still taking advantage of it. For now, he's sitting in the lobby, in one of the plush chairs, wings splayed out over the sides and draping onto the floor, people watching. He's still not used to the fact that he's the only homunculus here, the only fairy - it's weird to be in a fancy civ place not to see the bright colors of salon-modified wings everywhere he looks. Still, his sweater is cozy, and the coffee he'd picked up on the way here has salted caramel in it (which is a new and fantastic experience for him) - he can be comfortable here for a while. Join him, observe him, judge him for getting his coffee from Starbucks - either way, he's not going anywhere for a bit.]
4. Wildcard
[Got another idea? Write your own prompt or hit me up at
no subject
[He explains.]
Until I know more I don't really want people seeing us together after this. They might ask questions and I - I don't even know what fake answers to give yet.
[If they both went "wait, what? Is that...?" over it...]
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[Hunter has no wings and it's a tall hotel. He's missing something here.]
We could just tell people you're my kid.
[...yes, he's serious. Huvrye no]
[But he doesn't pursue it and shrugs instead, giving his room number. He doesn't know how long Hunter has been here, but odds are it's longer than Huvrye's current tenure; he might know something about all of this that Huvrye doesn't.]
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And I never told them what the one family member I did have looked like, so if they see me talking to an older person that looks just like me, looking uncomfortable? They might assume he's alive again somehow and try to maim you on sight.
[Ominous.]
[The tone is extremely cavalier and it doesn't match the actual words at all.]
Just open the window when I knock, because I can only stay invisible for as long as I can hold my breath.
[He points to his hood for Flapjack to hop back in. Time to go.]
I'll give you a half hour to get back and settled in.
[He doesn't ask if it's a good time. He doesn't ask if he wants time to finish shopping. No, he makes it sound like he's granting permission for a whole half hour. In fact, it almost sounds like an order, like he's used to firing off rendezvous times.]
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[Huvrye puts a hand firmly on Hunter's shoulder - not quite clamped down, not enough to hurt, but enough to make a point.]
I'll see you in five minutes.
[He may hate his career, but the Senior General authoritative demeanor comes in handy sometimes.]
[(It may also be an adverse reaction to getting ordered around. Hunter may be a kid, but Huvrye doesn't have to take that sort of thing here, and that means he's not going to.)]
[Hopefully five minutes is long enough for Hunter to get whatever he needs to do sorted; either way, if Hunter doesn't have anything else to say, then Huvrye is off. Everything else can wait.]
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[And acting accordingly.]
[He hasn't forgotten how to show throat to someone more intimidating and the way he caves to a stronger personality nearly as quickly as he'd thrown his weight around speaks volumes.]
[He looks away and stops meeting his eyes.]
Five minutes.
[The thing about being near the top of the totem pole is that even if you're used to being an authority figure to many, you're also used someone having authority over you. You're used to knowing when to show throat.]
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[This...may have been overkill.]
[(It's a bad habit.)]
[He hesitates for a moment, then pats Hunter's shoulder twice before heading out - a friendly gesture, and hopefully one that will put him a little more at ease. The conversation's going to be tough enough; he doesn't need to be tense on top of it.]
[Five minutes later, Huvrye is back in his hotel room. The stained shirt has been shed in favor of the hotel bathrobe over his pants and boots (because he still doesn't have a replacement shirt), the room's coffee pot is brewing, and the window is cracked. He's not waiting by the window, but he's close enough to get there when Hunter arrives.]
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[He gets off the staff and takes a few breaths to catch his breath, slamming the window shut and drawing the curtains because of the aforementioned metas that sometimes fly around.]
[The staff magically turns back into a bird, the same one as earlier, and it lands on Hunter's shoulder. He holds up a finger.]
Give me - a moment.
[He'd been holding it for a few minutes for the flight over from a nearby building.]
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[...okay. Add it to the pile of weird stuff he's witnessed today and worry about it later, when there are less important things on the docket.]
Sure.
[He lets Hunter catch his breath, pouring coffee into two mugs and setting them out on the coffee table. When it sounds like Hunter has managed to settle down, Huvrye catches his eye and nods towards the (closed, curtained) window.]
What are you hiding from?
[Because that behavior can't be anything but.]
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Or that something was weird about us looking similar.
Because I haven't -
[He leans back against the windowsill, arms acrossed.]
Only one friend knows what I am. Even back home, she's the only one. She's human. It doesn't have the same connotations for her.
I don't know how my other friends would take it.
[Especially given who he's a copy of. Another human witchhunter.]
But you still need to answer my question. What does it even mean to be a homunculus in your world?
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[It also makes sense that Hunter is so cagey, if he's the only homunculus he knows, and if they're not common where he's from. He'd said something about them being nearly extinct somewhere in that panic. It certainly says a few things about how homunculi are treated in Hunter's world.]
[But those are questions he'll have for Hunter after he's done explaining the particular brand of awful that is Lasardhi. He takes a seat, picks up one of the mugs, and gestures towards Hunter with it.]
I'll explain, but you might want to sit down first.
[It's a warning, even though his tone is level. This isn't going to be a fun conversation.]
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cw: talk of war crimes, corpse desecration
[Where he'd left off is probably the best place. He sighs.]
I told you we all look alike, and we can't modify our appearances, so we can't be mistaken for civilians. That's...because homunculi are weapons. We're made for war, out of corpses of actual people. Dead civs.
They make us and give us numbers, teach us how our bodies work, and put us through training - we don't get names unless we survive it. Troops, spec ops, officers - we're most of the military, and almost everyone who gets sent to the front lines, unless there are civ engineers we need to escort.
And we're supposed to be loyal. [The twist of disgust in his tone is impossible to miss, and his gaze is no longer on Hunter - it's over his shoulder and far into the past.] Protect the city, especially now that the continent is overrun with Corrupted. Everything to keep the city safe. And if we start thinking something is off - if we say Lasardhi is wrong, or that maybe protecting the city shouldn't involve killing refugees-
[He catches his hand shaking and thunks the coffee mug down on the table, splashing coffee onto the finish. It's better than the fit of rage he'd had when he'd first realized how wrong it all was, how right about everything Joba had been-]
[His voice had been rising with his anger; when he speaks again, it's flat - still angry, but not controlled so much as beaten.]
Then we get executed and recycled. They use the parts for someone a little more loyal next time.
[He finally looks back at Hunter.]
We're not people; we're government property. That's what it means to be a homunculus in Lasardhi. I...don't know if that's better or worse than being mostly extinct.
[He doesn't know what Hunter's situation back home is like, but he at least knows Hunter can hide it. That's got to count for something.]
cw: some more of that corpse desecration, and genocide, wow these canons
[It sounds...awful. Worse than Belos' regime. At least they had the good fortune of him backloading most of the absolute genocidal horror until the end. And the Corrupted...he's not sure what that is but it sounds like some kind of plague or contagious magical evil. Or a swarm of evil creatures?]
[It still puts him in a strange position of trying to figure out how he feels when it comes to associating with the man in front of him. Hunter, like every Golden Guard before him, had rebelled against Belos, even though it had killed all but one of them.]
[But then...they're dead now, aren't they. They didn't save the day, their efforts towards doing the right thing didn't reward them, fate was not on their side.]
[And it sounds like it's not on the side of these homunculi either. If they rebel, if they try to do the right thing, they don't survive. They get killed, and remade, just like the Golden Guards. He can think that what they did was awful, if they were killing refugees, and know that he - as he is now, with his life experiences - would choose differently if pressed into that situation. And that is something to worry about, here in a world like this that seems to be gradually controlling more and more people like him, being pushed into doing something awful.]
[But he also knows that he'd die for it in circumstances like that, just like he almost died for it back home. If Luz hadn't taken his place when Kikimora was trying to capture him... ]
[Can he really hate the ones trying to survive? When the same horror of the dead Golden Guards is the only thing that awaits their rebellion? Maybe it's not his place to judge at all. Maybe the best he can do is just judge the current actions of the man in front of him now, as they happen in the present. Especially now that he's free to choose.]
[The fact he refused to let someone like him walk away, apparently concerned at his age, does say something about him. So does his obvious outrage and anger.]
[His voice is soft when he finally speaks, and his heart can be heard aching through it. Because so much is similar. At first, he thought this man was like him, then that he was wrong, but apparently he was right by accident.]
I'm sorry. That you went through that.
We are alike. Maybe it's not exactly the same. I was lucky, that the bad things I did weren't as permanent. That I was kept in the dark about the Emperor's plans.
And that I found out in time to do the right thing. I changed sides and joined the rebellion before he committed genocide and killed every witch and demon in the Boiling Isles.
[He leans forward with his elbows on his thights, expression pensive, twiddling his fingers anxiously.]
I'm a Grimwalker. Homunculus was a technical term I found in some of the books I read when I was trying to figure out what I was. Grimwalkers always have eyes like mine, so that combined with what you said...
[That's why he'd gotten confused.]
I wasn't made from dead bodies and I don't know the exact recipe for the ritual, but I do know was made with the bone of someone dead, in their image.
To serve the Emperor, Belos. I was a copy of someone he murdered, someone he used to be close to, and he made me to be his right hand, the Golden Guard.
He raised me. He pretended he was my uncle.
[His voice restricts.]
And I wasn't the first. All the past Golden Guards, the past Grimwalkers, he made and killed them one by one, because every time he made one they betrayed him, and rebelled. He almost killed me, too, when I found out what he'd done and what he planned to do to the Boiling Isles.
He wanted them to be loyal and when they weren't? He just made a new one.
My friends saved me. They decided to be my friends even after all the bad things I'd done, even when I was still serving him. They saw good in me, and were there for me when I ran away from him, when I needed someone.
same terrible, terrible hat
[He's going to lose that sympathy immediately if he ever talks about his role in the war, isn't he. Effiom may be a world away, but that doesn't make him any less Effiom's butcher if anyone finds out what he's done.]
[And what was done to him- to Joba-]
[There are parts of his story that Hunter never needs to hear. The broad strokes should be enough.]
[But the broad strokes are enough to make Huvrye's heart sink to the floor when Hunter starts talking. All of that, and he still says they're alike-]
[But it turns out that's only to an extent, and that extent falls far short of Huvrye's crimes. Congratulations on getting out in time to rebel against the genocide instead of actively participating in it at a very high level. He's already doing much better than Huvrye in that regard.]
[On top of that, Hunter had never had a choice. Huvrye was always on track for some higher role - elite homunculi are too specialized, too expensive, to stay in the rank and file for long - but he could have remained a sniper, or in spec ops, if he weren't horrifyingly good at his job. He'd climbed to his position over a mountain of corpses back when he'd thought it was the right thing to do, but at least Effiom hadn't groomed him for it. Hunter had been created and raised (and Grimwalkers can be made as children, and grow up, and age - he trips over the concept and files it away for later) to be the right hand man of a genocidal maniac for his entire life - the latest in a long line of Grimwalkers all raised like Hunter had been, who all got wise and rebelled.]
[(The latest in a long line of Jobas, some part of him whispers, and he shuts that down fast.)]
[But...Hunter got out. Hunter has friends who stood by him despite who he'd been.]
[(Deep down, the part of Huvrye that paid for his actions in blood and gore at Kyriena's hands is quietly terrified for Hunter's friends. The part that still misses Joba, that aches for any meaningful connection with someone who understands, is jealous. He shuts those down too.)]
They sound like good friends.
[It is deeply sincere. Hunter may have been led around by the nose just as badly as Huvrye, but he'd gotten out before the damage was too bad, and if Huvrye is understanding him correctly, he'd prevented the worst of the killing and his friends were still alive and would be with him if he hadn't ended up here. Differences in their alchemical makeup aside, Hunter is one thing Huvrye never was: lucky.]
I don't know what people think of Grimwalkers where you're from, but if your friends already like you for who you are, then why would they care about what you are?
[He's genuinely trying to understand. There's a chunk of context here that he still doesn't have.]
no subject
Different. The magic that makes Grimwalkers isn't its own special thing but it's still making something artificial. Out of something dead. In the Boiling Isles that kind of thing, something fake made from something dead...
It's gross. By most people's standards. And there are these legends around Grimwalkers and they're not exactly flattering. Like...ghost stories.
And for my friends here, I just -
[He keeps twiddling his fingers anxiously.]
I don't think it's normal for a lot of them either. I have one friend whose powers involve death, and I don't think it would bother him.
But besides him, I don't know about the others. Even the humans. Luz was okay with it but Luz is incredibly weird. And one thing I learned here is humans have stories about people coming back from the dead. They have an entire genre of horror movies about people rising from the dead and then humans killing them again.
There's also apparently a really famous story about someone bringing an artificial being to life out of dead body parts. I didn't read it but I know they call the being a monster, not the creator.
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We can't win, can we.
[Another drink, and then he leans forward a bit.]
Well, if you ever want to talk to someone who gets it, I'm here, and I'm not planning on telling anyone. About either of us.
[If he never hears anyone call him the butcher again, it'll be too soon. He's not about to do anything to drag that reputation into this world, and evidently that includes letting people know he's a homunculus.]
Though if you ever need to tell someone else, your death powers friend sounds like your best bet.
no subject
I've never met anyone else like me. Not back home. Not even here, where there are lots of people from other worlds.
And I'm glad being brought here means you at least could get away. This place definitely has problems but in some ways it's not bad. It's even nice in a lot of ways.
[Titan, his home world sounds awful.]
We still have something terrible to fight back home, but I'm lucky that even if I go back, Belos is gone now.
[It doesn't sound like that's the case in Huvrye's world. So this world might be a respite.]
no subject
[It is a very good thing they're not the exact same. Hunter doesn't deserve that.]
[He huffs at Hunter's assessment of this world.]
There's snow here. Actual weather. Cities that aren't under domes. Real animals. And- [There's a moment's pause - being property is such a fact of life back home that he's not used to talking about it in a way that isn't soaked in bitterness and self-hatred.] -people stare at my wings, but they also treat me like a person most of the time. It's...good.
There's one person I'd go back for. If he shows up here, I'm never going back.
[He drains his mug and puts it back on the table. He'd only known Yin -responsive, sassy, and alive - for about a day, but thinking about him still hurts. At least he knows now that time has stopped back home, which means Yin is still alive without him (or as alive as he can be, at least).]
[He looks back at Hunter.]
Thanks for looking out for me, by the way. Probably a good thing if nobody mistakes me for Belos.
[If any of Hunter's friends have that part of the story, he wouldn't exactly blame them for wanting to go after the guy. He'd do the same himself, if only for damage reduction.]
[(And if he can't take it out on Effiom, that'd be the next best thing. He can multitask.)]
no subject
Okay that...that sounds even worse.
[ He wonders what his world will be like when he and his friends go back. And if it'll be that broken. ]
And you don't need to thank me.
People can get pulled here from different times so it's just...necessary.
[The way he unconsciously fiddles with his hands at the thought of his uncle showing up, alive, looks a little more like wringing when he mentions that. His knuckles are too white for it to be a casual gesture anymore.]
[But he notices what he's doing and loosens his grip.]
no subject
[He doesn't miss the hand wringing, and it's not hard to follow that particular train of thought to its conclusion. Speaking of people coming back from the dead...]
[(He would love to see Joba again, if only to apologize. On the other hand, he can't imagine that Belos coming here would be anything but a disaster.)]
[So he takes a different tack and leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.]
Look, the only people back home who looked out for me anymore were fellow soldiers watching my back. Up until the day before I got here, nobody watched my back because they liked me as a person.
[Because he got Joba killed; anyone else in the Interground would have known he was a liability to interact with, and he couldn't have a real conversation with anyone else. The Naabs cared, but they didn't know, and he was still a homunculus.]
You didn't have any idea who I was and you still looked out for me. So, thank you.
['Diversion' and 'completely sincere' are not mutually exclusive in this case.]
cw: implied child abuse
And technically I was also their boss.
[He shrugs slightly.]
And even then, it wasn't really that uncommon for everyone in the Emperor's Coven to stab each other in the back to gain more of, or avoid losing, Belos' favor. [His voice temporary loses some of its tone.] He wasn't someone you failed.
[His hand makes an abortive gesture towards his face. The side with the scar. Stops. Drops again.]
[It's subtle, but it's a mistake he wouldn't have made in the past. When he'd always been drowning in the shame of hurting his uncle by making him get angry enough to lose control. When he'd carefully insulated Belos from anyone finding out, because he didn't want his Uncle to feel shame over his curse or to show him ingratitude.]
[But he's been talking about some things a little more openly now. And feeling them more openly too. Enough to do things unconsciously when they might have been locked down in the past.]
[He squints and the tone changes again, to the cavalier way someone might talk about annoying workplace politics.]
I honestly kind of lost count of how many times Kikimora tried to kill me. She really wanted a promotion.
[His expression grows more gentle.]
Anyway, my point is I know what it's like. To feel alone. You don't have to feel that way anymore. There are a lot of good people here. And if you ever do feel it anyway, just let me know.
Maybe we could do some kind of...activities? [He has no idea how to talk about leisure. Or offer friendship. Still. It still comes out very stilted.] Humans are crazy. They created a lot of fun stuff to do, and it's weird even by witch standards.
[Therefore, there's a lot of novelty.]
no subject
[Hunter scars. Hunter's a Grimwalker, and evidently Grimwalkers heal differently. Things to remember, in case Hunter ever needs help.]
[Following that train of thought means the mention of casual workplace murder takes him completely by surprise, and for a moment he just stares. He'd ask if Hunter has any idea how messed up that is, but he's pretty sure he doesn't.]
[Man, both of their worlds are pretty bad, huh.]
[And then Hunter suggests "some kind of activities," and it throws Huvrye again, in a much better direction this time. His expression cracks into a smile, and he leans back in his chair and laughs. Hunter. Hunter. Buddy.]
Boy, you know about as much about being a civ as I do, huh.
[Virtually nothing, though Huvrye might be a little better at suggesting casual bonding.]
[The laughter subsides after a few seconds, but the smile remains.]
But yeah, "activities" sounds fun, and if you know some good people I'd love to meet them.
no subject
[Because, well...it's true.]
At least I stopped calling people civilians.
[Most of the time. Sometimes when trying to protect them when a big thing happens, but not on a general basis.]
no subject
Wait, you called them civs to their faces? They hate that.
[Said conspiratorially, to someone who also Gets It.]
no subject
[The smile fades, but not to sadness, just to something a little more thoughtful.]
It gets confusing sometimes? That being gone. The authority. Not knowing what I'm supposed to be.
[He raises his eyebrows.]
But it was still a relief. When I realized that's what I am now.
A civilian.
[The word feels strange on his tongue. Heavy. But filled with promise.]
Because I can't change the past, but with civilians, they get to decide who they want to be in the future.
[Earnestly.]
You can have that too now.
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