it was going to be a beautiful day

[princekiller]

Afterward, Damen found his way back to the tent, weaving and swaying with his pants held up with one hand. Laurent stirred from beneath his furs, laughing as the ground beneath Damen swayed and lurched. 'Stop,' he warned, walking on unsteady legs toward his own pile of furs. 'If you laugh, I'll follow over.'

And he did just that, collapsing into the pile with a grin and closing his eyes. His muscles were still thrumming pleasantly, mind fuzzy from the drink and activity. 'Halvik had a lot of girls,' he said, exhausted and utterly sated.

'Stop laughing,' he said when he heard another snicker, glancing over to see Laurent with his head propped one on hand.

'This is instructive. I've seen you put half a dozen men in the dirt without breaking a sweat.'

'Not right now, I couldn't,' Damen said. The low ceiling of the tent began to swim and Damen closed his eyes again.

'I can see that,' said Laurent. 'You're relieved of your regular duties in the morning.'

'That's nice of you. I can't get up. I'll just lie here. Or did you need something?'

'Oh, how did you know? Take me to bed.'

Despite himself, Damen laughed, a low thing halfway stuck behind a groan. Rolling onto his side, he pulled the furs up over his head and sleep swiftly dragged under.

If he dreamt, he did not remember it. He woke slowly. Peacefully. The furs beneath him were unbelievably comfortable and the drink he had been given the night before, he was pleased to note, had not left him with an throbbing head.

Taking a deep breath, Damen rolled to his side and stretched his legs as the morning sun peeked through the front fold of the tent.

Damen blinked his eyes open, but his mind could not making any sense of what he was seeing.

The body was not Laurent's. Nor was it Kashel's, nor any of the other women he could remember exhausting him. And there were no furs.

Fear gripped him and held tight and Damen scrambled from the bed, his feet landing on the soft fabric of a rug. Only when Damen looked down, he noted that the rug extended to every corner of the room and that these corners connected walls the likes of which he had ever seen before.

The body in the bed was a man, as broad and tall as Damen but blond like Laurent. He looked like a warrior. Like a soldier.

'Where have you taken him?' he demanded in Veretian, shoulders hunched, unlaced pants barely clinging to his hips. He had no weapon but his own brute strength, but he was prepared to fight.

Comments

[someones_monster]

"I don't know," Matthias tells him. He never questioned it very much, he was just grateful that he hadn't had to find a way here penniless and homeless. "There's a bank, and it gives you a certain amount at the start of each month."

"I know it doesn't make much sense now. I felt that way too. I still feel that way about a lot of it, but...you'll get used to being here eventually. And you might even find someone you know," he adds with a small shrug. After all, Kaz, Inej, and now Jesper are here. Though none of Dutch's companions have shown up.

He looks down at the sneakers and smiles up at Damen. "These are very comfortable, and not as hot as boots. You'll want to get a pair." He nods toward the door. "Let's go," he says, and opens the door back up, letting Damen go ahead first.

[princekiller]

The more Matthias spoke, the more questions Damen had to hold at bay. He couldn't imagine who would join him here, not when he hadn't chosen to come here himself. Would anyone be looking for him? Would Laurent assume he'd been taken or that he'd run? Would he care?

Frowning, Damen stared at the shoes adorning Matthias's feet with unfocused eyes.

When he glanced up again, Matthias was ushering him back out of the room and, dumbly, Damen followed. 'You know the person who makes them?' he asked, testing the feel of the borrowed shoes on his own feet with every step. 'And how do I find this money? This bank?'

[someones_monster]

"No. That is another strange thing about this place, things are made and then sold to stores, and then other people sell them in the stores. The shoes aren't specially fitted, you can find them in all sizes and colors," Matthias tries to explain. It had been a shock for him, to walk in and see all the identical shoes in rows of neat boxes. There were so many more options than he was used to.

He brings them downstairs and meets back up with Dutch.

"The money will be in your packet, and you can keep it in the bank, or get more out of the bank." He gives Dutch a helpless look. This must be how he had been with her all the times she had helped him.

[red17]

The helpless looks makes Dutch smile as she pushes away from the wall she'd been leaning on. They both look in one piece so, unfortunately, there hadn't been any tussling between the two. Too bad. She'll just have to imagine it in her dreams.

"Everything all right?" she asks them both. "Have fun?"

[princekiller]

Damen was beginning to think there wasn't a single thing about this place that wasn't strange. Stores full of shoes made by another, none of them fitted. Packets full of money. A language he had never seen, but inherently understood. None of it felt real. None of it felt feasible.

Dutch was waiting for them in another, larger room. She smirked at them, an expression Damen might have thought to comment upon if not for his continued, general unease.

Instead, he only said, 'Fun is not a word I'd use to describe anything about this morning.' His words trailed off however as his eyes caught on the vast windows that took up almost one entire wall. He moved toward it slowly, mouth agape at the sight that awaited him beyond the glass. For it was not a fort he saw, or at least no fort he'd ever seen before. The structures were massive, the designs neither Akielon nor Veretian. Not even Vaskian.

All Damen could do was stare.

[someones_monster]

Matthias conveyed to Dutch with a look that nothing about this was fun. Not only was he still sore that someone had shown up in bed with him, but he also didn't like being the one to explain the fantastical elements of this world when he, himself, still did not understand many of them.

At least Damen seems nice enough. Matthias had been through most of this himself, largely with Dutch's help, he just forgot how much there is to explain.

"There will be moving machines out there, they're called cars," Matthias supplies in advance, and takes Dutch's hand for the walk to the train station.

[red17]

"And those are the fastest thing this place has got," Dutch says, sighing in a very put upon way. The cars aren't terrible but she continues to miss her ship. However, she doesn't say anything to that effect because Damen's already confused enough and she doesn't want to get into space travel just yet. He might not even believe there's something up there past the sometimes blue sky.

"Cars are pretty helpful but you might want to save learning how to drive for at least your second week here," she advises. "It'll be a little easier to focus then. Possibly."

[princekiller]

He glanced back again at the sound of Matthia's voice, dumbfounded and wholly unnerved.

'Do you not have horses?' he asked, staring at their joined hands for a moment before walking out with them. The air, he was relieved to find, felt just as it had at home. He had not considered it might feel differently until seconds before they'd left the confines of the building, but he was still relieved.

There was nothing he had seen, so far, that reminded him of Akielos, or even Vere.

[someones_monster]

Matthias lets out a small laugh at Dutch's comment about driving. It took him two weeks to master the microwave, let alone drive a car, which he has yet to even consider trying.

"There are horses to ride for leisure, but no one uses them as transportation," Matthias says. "You can ride on the bus, which is like a very large car that you don't have to drive yourself. Or a taxi, which is a car someone else drives for you."

There is also, supposedly, the subway, but Matthias hasn't tried that yet.

[red17]

"And I haven't been near a horse," Dutch tells him with a shake of her head. She prefers things with a little more power, a little more kick than a horse. She wants a fast ship or a fast car or, if all else fails, someone big and fast to carry her around. Running's such a chore, after all.

"The city's not that big either so walking everywhere isn't necessarily out of the question either," Dutch advises with a shrug. "I've run around the island a few times and it's big but not that big. It's doable as long as it's not snowing or raining acid."