Martha has returned to the hotel for the first time since the trial. She spent a lot of time at home with the Doctor, Des, her family. It was necessary after such an emotionally grueling couple of days.
She steps into the Rift room and lets the door shut behind her. Martha likes to check in here every hour or so when she's in the hotel to be sure that no one comes through and thinks they can go back the way they came.
It's a good thing, too, because there's a newcomer on the floor looking not at all well off. Bloody hell. Really have to find someone to watch this room constantly.
Martha freezes in the doorway. There's something... different about the new wanderer, too. She can't place what exactly, but goosebumps start to cover her arms. This is silly. There's nothing to be scared about. She's a wanderer, and she's doubled over in dismay.
"It's okay. You're alright. There's no reason to be frightened." It sounds in her head like she's telling herself that.
Medusa freezes at the voice, locks down every muscle. At the words. Because it is not her language and yet she understands. Words of her own come through her brain and it is not her native language, but still, she understands.
You have no idea how frightened you must be.
Medusa takes a deep breath, and speaks. Slowly. Her voice is not deep; but it carries a certain resonance all the same.
"I am not afraid for myself." Lies. "Do not look at my face."
A moment. This is not like any Underworld she had ever been told to expect. She will not take the chance that this may be someone who could be harmed, someone living. She needs to know where she is so she can get a sense of the danger.
Martha feels herself wanting to take a step back at the sound of her voice. It's all very odd. She doesn't know why she's reacting this way. It makes her frustrated with herself to the point that she forces herself to take a few steps forward.
She raises an eyebrow at the words. They don't seem right. They're not anything she's heard from any new wanderer and she's greeted so many of them.
Not afraid for myself.
What does that even mean? The goosebumps have traveled all over her body. She gives a slight shiver, and then locks her jaw and walks forward, again.
"Why shouldn't I look at your face?" Martha presses her lips together. Every muscle in her body is tense. Where is this place? Somehow she imagines this is going to be harder to describe to her than the rest. "... you're in Chicago. But looking at how you're dressed... I would say that you're not from this time period."
Unless she's appearing in a play, but again, that seems unlikely.
Medusa is suddenly very, very tired. Her body relaxes slightly but her hands are still held tightly over her face. She doesn't answer right away; as long as her face is covered, whomever this is before her is safe. She thinks. And it's more important to know where she is.
Chicago. She has never heard of such a place. Perhaps she is alive after all ... but how could that be possible?
"You ... you cannot look me in the face. You will be turned to stone." Medusa almost sobs, grateful. She must have covered herself just in time. One being, at least, saved.
Then the time period remark seeps through. Time period? This makes no sense.
"I am from Cisthene. I ... do not have a good concept of time." She pauses. Living in a cave for three years will do that to you. "Chicago ... is this like Hades?"
There aren't any people in the Rift room at the moment.
There is, however, a People, who's too curious for his own good.
Leapsfar scrambles to the top of the couch and eyes the newcomer for a moment before jumping neatly down to sit in front of her, up on his hindlegs, head tilted to the side. He wasn't exactly shy to start out with. Living in a basement full of humans who feed him and sometimes scritch him hasn't helped with that.
Medusa senses the tiny presence in front of her, the life force. She cannot help but smile.
"Hello, little one," she says gently, her voice slightly muffled by her hands.
"I fear it would do you good to stay away from me."
Whatever the creature is, Medusa hopes that it somehow understands. She is afraid of even touching anything, even as she knows it is her face, her gaze, that is the true danger.
However, if she didn't have that fear, she would be reaching her foot out to find and pet whatever the beast may be. She wouldn't be able to help herself.
Leapsfar is smarter than most squirrels. Being around Daine long enough will do that to any animal. The phrasing's not what he's used to, but he grasps the meaning behind the words. He trills a soft question - why? - and scoots forward to rest a paw on her knee.
She doesn't smell like a predator. Not exactly like a normal two-legger either, but there are enough down here who don't that that doesn't bother him. He'd just like her to pet him.
There is actually Medusa-squee. The narration did not quite expect this.
The little trill - the touch - it is something she has not felt in so long; the soft pads of feet. For a moment, though, her breath hitches, waiting.
But it appears that he is fine to touch her, that he has not been affected. Medusa grins, and feels herself relax as she hasn't in a very long time. Snakes are wonderful, but they are not the same as warm-blooded creatures.
"You are a brave beast," she says in an approving tone, and shifts away to rearrange herself and sits cross-legged, careful to keep her hands over her face. She lifts one leg ever so slightly off the ground to wiggle her toes at him.
See, the thing about Daine is that for all she's human, she's also People, rather strongly. She's more comfortable around animals, talking to animals, almost more comfortable being an animal, though that's a new talent she's still developing.
But that means that when she steps into the Rift room, looking for something, and she sees Medusa, her instincts have to have a nice sit-down to discuss which reaction they're going to have before sending the message to her brain.
The People win.
Daine's kneeling on the ground in front of Medusa almost instantly, reaching out to tentatively touch her shoulder. "Miss? Are you injured?"
She sounds concerned. Not terrified, just... worried, about her.
Medusa flinches away from the touch. She would have liked that touch if she were not so afraid, if all the statues of her garden were not burnt into her memory.
"Please ... be careful."
She wants to laugh at the girl's question. She has a head again, so she is very well, thank you.
"I am not injured, I am ... fine." A strange word, but instantly fitting. It means nothing and keeps a distance while still giving others assurance. "But please do not look at me."
She pauses a moment. "Where ... what is this place?"
If it is the Underworld, perhaps she can take her hands from her face.
"Why shouldn't I look at you?" Daine asks curiously, though she pulls her hand back. This girl seems like a frightened animal. She'll have to feel safe before she'll be comfortable with Daine. "I can close my eyes if you like."
What is this place? Oh dear. There's something about this girl (probably the dress) that is practically screaming to Daine that she's out of place. Which means saying "Chicago" isn't going to clear much up. "It's... a different world," she says finally. You were brought here-- well, they say that it's at random, but I think maybe there are gods who control it. Or a powerful sorcerer. But you've come from your world to a different one, and... they don't know of a way for any of us to get back."
A commanding note creeps into Medusa's tone. "It would perhaps be better if you turned your head away from me." Better safe than sorry, yes? "I do not wish for you to be turned to stone."
Medusa gives a bitter little chuckle at the girl's words. The gods. But of course.
"Yes, gods controlling things seems more ... likely," Medusa says, rallying herself. Because whether she knows it or not, this girl has just given her good news. Not going back means not going back to where she was humiliated by Athena and Perseus, not going back to -
Comments 59
She steps into the Rift room and lets the door shut behind her. Martha likes to check in here every hour or so when she's in the hotel to be sure that no one comes through and thinks they can go back the way they came.
It's a good thing, too, because there's a newcomer on the floor looking not at all well off. Bloody hell. Really have to find someone to watch this room constantly.
Martha freezes in the doorway. There's something... different about the new wanderer, too. She can't place what exactly, but goosebumps start to cover her arms. This is silly. There's nothing to be scared about. She's a wanderer, and she's doubled over in dismay.
"It's okay. You're alright. There's no reason to be frightened." It sounds in her head like she's telling herself that.
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You have no idea how frightened you must be.
Medusa takes a deep breath, and speaks. Slowly. Her voice is not deep; but it carries a certain resonance all the same.
"I am not afraid for myself." Lies. "Do not look at my face."
A moment. This is not like any Underworld she had ever been told to expect. She will not take the chance that this may be someone who could be harmed, someone living. She needs to know where she is so she can get a sense of the danger.
"...Where is this place?"
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She raises an eyebrow at the words. They don't seem right. They're not anything she's heard from any new wanderer and she's greeted so many of them.
Not afraid for myself.
What does that even mean? The goosebumps have traveled all over her body. She gives a slight shiver, and then locks her jaw and walks forward, again.
"Why shouldn't I look at your face?" Martha presses her lips together. Every muscle in her body is tense. Where is this place? Somehow she imagines this is going to be harder to describe to her than the rest. "... you're in Chicago. But looking at how you're dressed... I would say that you're not from this time period."
Unless she's appearing in a play, but again, that seems unlikely.
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Chicago. She has never heard of such a place. Perhaps she is alive after all ... but how could that be possible?
"You ... you cannot look me in the face. You will be turned to stone." Medusa almost sobs, grateful. She must have covered herself just in time. One being, at least, saved.
Then the time period remark seeps through. Time period? This makes no sense.
"I am from Cisthene. I ... do not have a good concept of time." She pauses. Living in a cave for three years will do that to you. "Chicago ... is this like Hades?"
Reply
There is, however, a People, who's too curious for his own good.
Leapsfar scrambles to the top of the couch and eyes the newcomer for a moment before jumping neatly down to sit in front of her, up on his hindlegs, head tilted to the side. He wasn't exactly shy to start out with. Living in a basement full of humans who feed him and sometimes scritch him hasn't helped with that.
Reply
"Hello, little one," she says gently, her voice slightly muffled by her hands.
"I fear it would do you good to stay away from me."
Whatever the creature is, Medusa hopes that it somehow understands. She is afraid of even touching anything, even as she knows it is her face, her gaze, that is the true danger.
However, if she didn't have that fear, she would be reaching her foot out to find and pet whatever the beast may be. She wouldn't be able to help herself.
Reply
She doesn't smell like a predator. Not exactly like a normal two-legger either, but there are enough down here who don't that that doesn't bother him. He'd just like her to pet him.
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The little trill - the touch - it is something she has not felt in so long; the soft pads of feet. For a moment, though, her breath hitches, waiting.
But it appears that he is fine to touch her, that he has not been affected. Medusa grins, and feels herself relax as she hasn't in a very long time. Snakes are wonderful, but they are not the same as warm-blooded creatures.
"You are a brave beast," she says in an approving tone, and shifts away to rearrange herself and sits cross-legged, careful to keep her hands over her face. She lifts one leg ever so slightly off the ground to wiggle her toes at him.
Reply
But that means that when she steps into the Rift room, looking for something, and she sees Medusa, her instincts have to have a nice sit-down to discuss which reaction they're going to have before sending the message to her brain.
The People win.
Daine's kneeling on the ground in front of Medusa almost instantly, reaching out to tentatively touch her shoulder. "Miss? Are you injured?"
She sounds concerned. Not terrified, just... worried, about her.
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"Please ... be careful."
She wants to laugh at the girl's question. She has a head again, so she is very well, thank you.
"I am not injured, I am ... fine." A strange word, but instantly fitting. It means nothing and keeps a distance while still giving others assurance. "But please do not look at me."
She pauses a moment. "Where ... what is this place?"
If it is the Underworld, perhaps she can take her hands from her face.
Reply
What is this place? Oh dear. There's something about this girl (probably the dress) that is practically screaming to Daine that she's out of place. Which means saying "Chicago" isn't going to clear much up. "It's... a different world," she says finally. You were brought here-- well, they say that it's at random, but I think maybe there are gods who control it. Or a powerful sorcerer. But you've come from your world to a different one, and... they don't know of a way for any of us to get back."
Daine chews her lip a bit, still worried.
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A commanding note creeps into Medusa's tone. "It would perhaps be better if you turned your head away from me." Better safe than sorry, yes? "I do not wish for you to be turned to stone."
Medusa gives a bitter little chuckle at the girl's words. The gods. But of course.
"Yes, gods controlling things seems more ... likely," Medusa says, rallying herself. Because whether she knows it or not, this girl has just given her good news. Not going back means not going back to where she was humiliated by Athena and Perseus, not going back to -
"So this is not ... Death?"
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