2019-07-16 - The Voices of Those Who Stand Looking

It's a lovely summer evening - if you like your evenings hot and sticky, anyway. It's proved to be a little bit more of both than a lot of townies are happy with, northwestern flowers that they are, so the area around Gray Pond is actually fairly quiet. At least of human noise. The air is filled with the songs of frogs and crickets and night birds, calling to each other. Fireflies dance over the water, flirting in vain with their reflections over the pond, and the lapping of the water against the reeds and grasses gives its own subtle counterpoint to the music of the night.

Lyric has come out her, seized by a peculiar restlessness. Maybe it's the heat, or the stickiness that makes it so that there is ALWAYS a bead of sweat trickling somewhere down her skin where it's hard to wipe away and just a little itchy. Maybe it's the sense of shadows just out of sight. It's hard to say. But she's out here, as the sky slowly turns from gold, to bloody crimson, to dark purple.

Lyric didn't mind the heat. She lived in the trailer park and her air conditioner had gone out at the end of last summer and she'd not had the funds to repace it yet. At least here there may be a slight breeze. There was water and the bay was out after the dog eating creature they'd all ran into a day or two ago. A soft sigh escapes her and she sits on the ground, hands behind her, legs extended as she leans back, just thinking.

There were so many things filling her mind, all jumbled in there together that none of it could be picked out singularly and examined. Opening her eyes she watches the sky, squinting up at it as it changes colors slowly. At first she hadn't noticed but the gold that washed over the area now was gone and now it was crimsom red, and even that was changing. It was getting dark. She had lost track of time. Sitting up further she doesn't yet get to her feet. The restlessness was still churning inside of her. "I should go.." she whispers only to herself.

Just as she's starting to sit up, she hears something that you wouldn't expect to hear out here. At least not this time of night - it's the faint sound of a band, playing. They're pretty good, too - rocking out to a cover of Stairway to Heaven. The music is very faint, just loud enough to hear, and to recognize it as live and not just someone bringing some speakers out for a high school party. Off in the distance, blocked by some dangling trees, there are some faint lights. Maybe some band is practicing out here?

At first when Lyric hears the band she thinks it's coming from the church for some reason. It had been her first thought anyway. Tucking her hair back from her face, behind her ears, she manages to get to her feet. Once there, she turns a semi-circle until she sees the lights through the trees. A band! That meant more people and she wasn't really alone out here after all. Walking towards that direction, she is careful where she steps, not wanting to trip. She even starts dancing a little as she walks. Who can not dance to this song?

It's VERY danceable. It's actually ridiculously so; it's like, as she moves, that the band somehow knows she's enjoying it. Not only does the volume go up, but the music starts changing juuuust enough that it's like it's syncing with her moves. There's a little path through the trees towards the lights, and the pulses of the fireflies near her skin are like tiny little concert fans, waving butt-lighters at the sky. It's a pretty good time.

Until she breaks through the last few bits of trees, and...there's no band. It's a little cove-like space that doesn't even have the SPACE for a band, considering that most of it's underwater. But the music is all around her, warm and bright. And then she realizes - it's not coming from the air, but from the water. The pure, clean water of the lake, which currently looks down into what seems to be ANOTHER little cove, but on this one, there's a band playing. And she can hear them, perfectly.

Perfection was never real. Not to Lyric. But she went with it anyway for now because she was curious why there would be a band out here playing a song so.. perfect. The dancing continues through the woods, over the path and then she's there! But there was nothing there! It was all wrong even if Lyric was mesmerized by the music it was all wrong. This was the cove, the water was there. "Hello?" The word is tentative and not spoken to herself this time. Hesitating, she doesn't step towards the water, not after what had just happened. Not unless she is compelled to do so. "Is anyone here?" Her voice is soft, much softer than the music.

There's no compulsion. Not exactly. But the water ripples when she speaks, in a way not explained by the breezeless summer night, or the barely existent currents of the lake. It ripples in time with her words, each tiny tremble on the water letting free a spray of light. The music continues unabated, the band in the water playing their hearts out.

It was magic! Lyric knew a little about that. In a way. Kneeling down, her curiosity gets the better of her and she tentatively reaches out a hand to trail her fingertips through the edge of the water, looking for a reaction in it. There's a brief glance around, making sure it's not a trap, but she was interested in the music and the water.

Lyric is a clever person! There is a reaction to the touch of her fingertips on the water.

Unfortunately, that reaction is basically that the water shivers just a touch, then surges up in a large, concave shape, like a gleaming ice cream scoop. Instead of the world's largest sundae, though, it scoops up a big helping of Lyric, and drags her down into the water before she can toss herself aside.

She's dragged /very/ far down, although the water never seems to lose its light, remaining a serene blue touched by crimson and gold. And the music stays with her - now it's not Stairway to Heaven. It's "Do You Believe in Magic". And the band is /killing/ it.

It's a shame Lyric can't breathe with all this water around. But below her, the light seems to get brighter.

Why why why? Lyric had known better! Her mind had screamed it at her and yet she'd touched the water. There's the briefest of screams before the water overtakes her and pulls her under. Far, far under. Kicking the entire way, trying to get free from its grasp.

Grasp? Of water? There had to be a bottom here somewhere so she could kick off and get free. She couldn't breathe! Trying to swim, trying to find the surface, she kicks and moves her arms almost desperately, tuning the music out and trying to go away from the light.

The water gets thicker, the further she goes, gaining a consistency like gel, then like porridge, then like wet sand. She strains and kicks and claws - just when her air is about to give up for good, her fingers break through...something. Another few kicks, the blood roaring in her ears, her lungs burning with the desperate desire to breathe in...

And she's through. She finds herself lying on the ground, summer grass tickling her face and hands, in the cove she saw from the other side. There's the band, playing - the musicians aren't human, though. They're large, hairy sort of creatures with purplish bat-wings for oversized ears, and hangdog sort of faces with bulbous eyes. They play on, with joy. The dude-ette-thing on the drums gives her a cheery little wave, though, in between beats.

The forest around her is wild, primal, and the sky above is blank and featureless.

Nothing could have prepared Lyric for the fear of dying. There was no peace when you knew your time was near no matter what anyone says. There was pure, raw fear and desperation. Her heart felt like it was going to explode at the same time her lungs would. The water was so thick, she couldn't open her eyes just blindly claw through it. She felt so powerless. Reach, reach.. chanting each word in her mind to bring it a focus when all she wanted to do was give up. She couldn't quit.

Finally, she breaks through and she flops on the grass sucking in painful breath after painful breath, her lungs equally praising her and protesting. Her fists claw at the earth and she holds it in both hands, the tickle of the grass proof she was still alive. Lifting her head, she can hear the music. No longer perfect, but incessant music. She couldn't get away from it.

Then she turns her head and catches sight of the musicians and all of her movements cease, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Then the wave comes and she tries to duck into the unkempt grass. "Wake up, Lyric, wake up! Be in your bed at home." Closing her eyes, she waits then opens them and pinches herself. Was she dreaming?

Oh hey, the music stops! Maybe that's what pinching does, here. She can close her eyes, but she can't stop up her ears, and there are low murmurs from the band, "Hey, don't see that every day, do you?"

"Nope. Do you suppose she meant to do that?"

"Don't look like it."

"I dunno. Maybe she likes falling from things and pinching herself. Maybe that's a thing where she comes from."

When Lyric opens her eyes again, she'll find that the band-monsters have moved closer, and staring at her with curiosity. They all bare their (many, sharp, pointed) teeth at her at the same time.

So she wasn't dreaming. Unless she really was and was dreaming of pinching herself. The voices though! Opening her eyes she widens them when she sees the creatures bearing in on her, teeth bared. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" Yelling it out and ending the me into a scream that would make horror movies jealous, but she does that thing she does when she's super afraid and pushes back with her mind. "GET AWAYYY!"

And push Lyric does! The band members go tumbling asses over bat-ears, shouting with distress and surprise. One of them falls back into the snare kit, and there's an unfortunate tearing sound. "My drums!" It wails softly, trying to pull itself out of the mess. The others stagger to their feet and help, making distressed noises at the damage. They all turn to give Lyric wary looks, and edge away from her, sort of trying to hide behind their broken band kit. They're too big, and it doesn't help. At all.

Oh great, now Lyric was an asshole. Still, self preservation and all that and they brought her here. "How do I go home? Tell me how I go home and I'll leave you alone. I won't do it again if you tell me." Hoping she finally had the upper hand, she demands answers. "I need to go home."

One of the band-monsters, the one whose snare kit has been ruined, RUINED, by being tumbled into, ignores her. It kneels down to try to fix its poor, broken drums. Which mostly involves smoothing one big, hairy paw over the damage and kinda wishing really hard. Good luck with that, monster-dude.

The other three exchange looks, then peer back at her. "Um," one says, "I guess you could try to go back the way you came?" It points up.

Another reaches out and cuffs that one hard on the flappy ear. "Dummy! She fell out of the sky! How do you think she's gonna get back there? Do you see any wings?" It flaps its head wings as emphasis.

"I dunno," the first one mutters, "maybe she grows them when she needs them."

The third rolls its enormous eyes and stares at her. "Why should we do anything for you, huh? We were just minding our own business, practicing, and now you've wrecked our kit. Are you some kind of music hater, or something?"

Lyric opens her mouth then closes it as she looks up towards the sky. There's a very visible shudder and she shakes her head. I wasn't trying to hurt you or your music. You scared me. It liooked like you were going to bite me. Can.. can you all fly? Can you take me home?"

She was certifiable and she knew it. She was having a conversation with monsters. "Who are you and where am I? What is this place called? Is there any other way to get out of here?" She really wasn't feeling as reasonable as she sounded.

All four monster-faces wrinkle in identical distaste. "BITE you?" the first one says, sounding horrified. "Why would we do that? You probably taste terrible." This time it ducks the blow from the second one, who hisses, "She might LIKE the way she tastes. Don't be so fucking rude."

The third one ignores their squabbling, and says, "Look, lady, we don't know where you're from. Over THERE I guess, and we don't go over there. There's maaaaybe someone who might be able to help you, buuuuut..."

"Oh yeah," the first one chimes in, "THEM. They might know the way."

"I guess we could tell her about them. They get bored anyway."

It's the fourth one, kneeling by the kit, who breaks in, "She broke my drums! Don't tell her anything. Until she /fixes/ them." All four of them turn and stare at Lyric, thoughtfully.

"Wait, wait.. will they want to hurt me? Or .. bite me?" Lyric hesitates. "Who are they?" Exhaling a breath she gets closer to them and looks at the drums. "I can fix it, maybe. But I have to get home. I want someone who can really help me.".

The band-monsters exchange looks again. The first one leans over to the second and says, in a whisper that really isn't /whispery/ at all, "Uh. Is it me, or does she have a THING. About the biting."

The second one elbows the first hard, muttering back, "Don't say it so loud, numbskull. Just because she's got a weird fetish for being bitten, it doesn't mean she's a bad person. Just smile and nod and don't be so damned judgy." They both try to follow this advice, throwing her wide (oh god so toothy) grins and nodding solemnly.

The third holds his massive, clawed paws up. "Lady, nobody wants to bite you. We were just going to send you to the tree octopuses, is all. They just got these little tiny beaks, could barely even take a nibble even if they wanted to."

"Octopodes," the first puts in, smugly. "It's /octopodes/."

"Octopi," the second corrects, with a sniff. "Octopi is clearly the most reasonable and elegant plural available."

The fourth one lets out a groan. "Nobody fucking cares about podes or pi or puses. Just have her fix my drums, man! Unless you plan on me playing by slapping my thighs?"

"Is there a labyrinth to get through too?" Lyric scoffs in only a half teasing manner. This was all too weird. So weird. Giving up on any of it really being real, she looks at the drums and closes her eyes then opens them again, trying to make them back to just how she had pictured them but using her mind to do it.

"Do you have any ruby slippers I can borrow?" Now she was just being a jerk and she sobers as she remembers almost drowning. "Really, I just want to go home." The drums are none the worse for wear now patched up as best she can. "Where are the octo?"

"Ooooooh," All four of the band monsters say it in unison as she closes her eyes and the drums seamlessly repair themselves. The third one stares at her for a moment. "Well, that was mighty brave of you."

"Or that other thing," the first one mutters, looking at the lush but skeletal woods around them. "Now get her out of here before THEY sniff her out."

The fourth monster looks so damned happy. Like it's just going to cry right there as it hugs its big snare drum carefully. It's the one that says, "All right. No slippers - ruby seems pretty gaudy, but ain't no accounting for taste. But look, just go thataway," it points with a big hairy hand, "and keep the PINK moss to your right, and the BLUE moss to your left. Shouldn't be very far. They'll find you."

Directions given, the monsters start testing the kit out, and getting ready to play another set.

It was a scary decision. Another one in Lyrics life. Stay or go? "What if I stay here with you, what happens then?" She doesn't go between the pink and blue moss yet. "Am I going to die?" Feeling very much like she is going to, she addresses only the first one. "I don't know what to do. I'm not good at this!"

The band-monster she addresses reaches up and scratches itself behind its ear. The big batwings flap in quiet pleasure. Aaaaaahhh. Once that's done, it blinks big eyes at her and...shrugs. "I guess you could hang out. Do you sing? We could use a singer."

"HEY," says the third one - who seems to be the lead singer.

"I'm just saying," the first says quickly. "If she wants to make herself USEFUL, she could sing!"

"Nope," says the third. It glares at her, offended. "You're gonna die." A pause. "I mean, some day, anyway. The longer you stay here, the more likely it is. I mean, LOOK at you. No claws, no teeth, and you just shine all over the place. They're gonna," its voice drops to the kind of growl that starts low in one throat, and ends up buried teeth-deep in someone else's, "EAT YOU ALIVE."

And then it's back to normal. "You'd better run along and find your way home. But hey, drop in whenever you like, if you want to listen to some mad tunes." He points up to the sky.

"Heehee, drop in," the first snickers, only to have the second elbow it heavily in the ribs.

The weird thing? I mean, the OTHER weird thing, on top of the other weird things? Lyric feels like she could just 'drop in'. She /remembers/ what that felt like...and she's pretty sure she could do it again.

The things were amusing. They were fun and funny. Lyric didn't have a lot of that in her life and she was sooo tempted to just stay here and live out her days here forever. Until she puts things together. "You mean the dark men will come?" Her voice is shaky now and she tries to hide her dismay and outright fear. "I gotta go. I have to outrun them." Suddenly everything ceases to be funny and she turns towards the aforementioned path and takes off. Pink to her right, blue to her left. Pink right, blue left.

In lieu of an answer to THAT question, the bears start up playing again - Kansas, "Point of Know Return". It accompanies her running for a bit before fading out. The mosses in question glow faintly in the featureless twilight, so it's not that hard to keep to the right (?) path, wading through lush ferns up to her waist and pushing through occasional tangles of thorns that are larger and more clawlike than anything in the 'real' Firefly Forest. Her legs are just beginning to give out when there's a rustle from up above, and something drops onto her shoulders. Something with a lot of long, whippy limbs that curl around her, and a gleeful, childlike voice that goes, "WHEEEEEEEEe!" in her ear.

There's a scream that follows the feel of the thing on her shoulder and Lyric tries to swipe it off of her even as the clawlike thorns prohibit her from running all out. "Don't tell me you talk too." But there's no sense of complacency. "I just want to go home. The band told me you could help me get home. How do I get back there?"

There's a giggle in her ear, as the octopus settles in to get comfy on one of her shoulders. It's a small but handsome example of the species, with a creamy, salmon colored skin dotted with large dark splotches, and a white underneath. "Which is it?" it asks, voice high and breathy. "Do you want me to help you get back to YOUR side, or do you want me to not talk?"

"I just want to go home. You can talk all you want, but I do really need to go home. I'm not from this world, wherever this world is and I don't belong here. I feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. This can't be really real can it? I mean, not really? Which way do I go to get home and how do I get there?" Lyrics voice turns into a plea and for the thousandth time she wishes she'd never touched the water.

Four tentacles gently pat her face, two on each side. "Oh, poor thing. You're just a lost lamb, aren't you? I'm Fifteen! Nice to meetcha." A tentacle idly plays with Lyric's hair. "Okay. We'll get you to the thin point - it's where YOUR place and THIS place are the closest. I can't get you OUT, though. You'll have to do that alllllll on your own." And then the voice chirrups up with directions. Some of them are simple - go around this tree, go under that outcropping - but some are /weird/. Like 'spin around three times, then take two steps back'. But, if Lyric follows them, they will eventually come to somewhere...else.

If there's even the chance that Lyric can get back home she's going to follow every direction to a T. The circles, the tree, hop, skip and jump and count to three, everything required of her is done and nothing extra, not willing to get lost. The Pi is nice t hough and once they are there, she can feel the shift. Hear the saw. "This is the old saw mill. I've been here before. Not really close though, my friend Lizzy never let me come so close." Her hands clench and she just looks straight ahead. Eyes on the goal as it were. "Whatever I have to do, I'll do." \

"Well," Fifteen says, thoughtfully, "it looks like that might be your way out!" One skinny tendril lifts up to point at a...odd, half-finished contraption, that's surrounded by gleaming, lacquered, wooden gears. The octopus crawls down Lyric's body (she can feel the kiss of suction cups through cloth a dozen times over before it reaches the ground), then swings itself up into the nearest tree, climbing with monkey-like agility. "Hope you're good with machines! Good luck!"

Ew.. just all kinds of ew. With the helpfulness of the Pi, Lyric tries not to shudder and dislodge the creature as it traverses her body. Her eyes widen. "Machines? Not really, but I can fix some things. I mean, I learned some mechanic and repair things in foster care." Following the direction of the tentacle she heads that way. "Thank you for the help I won't forget you, Fifteen." Plodding up ahead to either face her fate or get home.

Gears! Gears EVERYWHERE. They're in the grass, they're hanging off the pieces of the machine, they're sitting on a nearby wooden bench. It's not quite a car engine, and it's not quite a clockwork thing, but it's some sort of hybrid of the two. Lyric gets to work - and it's /hard/. It's harder than she would have figured, but she works her way methodically through the machine, learning how it works, feeling some strange knowledge seep into her bones. She starts adjusting dials, setting it vaguely for what she thinks 'home' is...and then pulls the big lever on the side.

Gears turn. Tick tick tick tick. Slowly, the machine whrrs to life, and one of those blobs of 'real' stabilizes, grows to be big enough to walk through - it's showing a gorgeous summer day on the other end. Surely THAT much time didn't pass while she was in here? But then, how would she tell?

Either way, she's got a single wooden cog left over. It probably belonged somewhere in the machine, but...oops. She could try to take it with her, or she could toss it away...

There was a chance. Lyric works and works and works. Her hands keep busy doing things her brain tells them to do and after she thinks she has it she steps back and watches and waits. Then it kicks on and the shimmery turns more real on the other side. Was it real though? Really? She has a cog. Does she have another chance to fit it? Should she run? There's no throwing it or dropping it. She holds it in her hand and she runs like she had swam before, with all her might and willpower, trying to get through, the cog in her hand. If she can make it through, she'll drop it at the last second, leaving that hand to come through last, trying to drop it on the other side in case someone else gets trapped inside someday. Trying to think ahead. Attempting to make sure her whole hand gets through the hold after dropping it on the other side...

Leaving at the thin point was much easier than tearing her way through back at the pond - it's just like running through thin air, except for sudden hot tingle that seems penetrate all the way down to her bones. But she can easily drop the cog juuuust on the other side, and retrieve her hand without incident. And then?

She's back at the Abandoned Sawmill, somewhere around noon the next day, with the sun shining down, birds singing, and absolutely nothing scary at all. If you don't count that hulking, rotting sawmill behind her, with that big, big blade just waiting to be fired up once more.