goneawayworld | A Child's Town in the Winter [Closed]

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A Child's Town in the Winter [Closed]

Who: Dan Sagittarius and the Easter Bunny
What: Krampus, Krampus.
Where: The Gardens
When: Backdated to the Christmas plots.
Warnings/Notes: Potential references to alcohol and drugs.

Once again, Dan's out of roses, and that means another trip down to the Gardens, always a pleasant distraction from the monotony and corporatism of the Rig. He's been doing his best to press the petals dry between pages of a library book he doesn't understand, but after long enough they crumble to bits, and while Dan doesn't know that there are any spirits that can be warded with roses here on the Rig, he knows that back home once a plant breaks down to dust it ceases to be useful as a ward. So, it's time for another welcome visit to Bunny.

The Rig has decided that, for this week, even the Gardens should be festive, so rather than the usual verdant bushes and fruit-bearing trees, there's a thin layer of frost on the ground, and tinsel-strewn evergreens, winter jasmine, Lenten roses and winterberries make the landscape lush. Dan wraps his arms around himself in the chill, annoyed that yet another part of this goddamn vehicle has opted to drop the temperature, and looks around for Bunny. But he does see a flash of something in the scrub.

It doesn't matter that Dan spent his childhood subsistence-hunting rabbits and deer, pheasants and antelope; he loves animals and would love nothing more than to be peacefully surrounded by them.

"Hey, buddy." Dan crouches down, unwilling to sit in the frost. "Didn't know we got wildlife around here."

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A little earlier this wouldn't be mysterious. Had Dan arrived earlier he'd have known he'd found who he was looking for, even if he wouldn't have been in time to do anything about it.

Earlier Bunny was even thinking that Dan was likely to come by for roses soon, it was regular he came by. He was growing the roses for Dan when it was the last thought he had before all the world became dark with panic.

Maybe it's a little miracle that Dan and his particular cigarette and clean soap scent were on his mind before his mind stopped being capable of remembering Dan's name, because if it hadn't been the rabbit panicking in the rose bushes might panic hard enough to run.

Not that he'd get far, with those blinded white eyes of his.

With the panic of sudden blindness and the terror of this sudden helplessness and no means to sort out what the threat is, where to run to, who to run from, it's only the very, very tenuous awareness that this smell and this tone of voice means safety, means the perpetual undercurrent of keep watch be vigilant is abated slightly that keeps him still under the rosebush for Dan to identify, the black striped marks like a flower unfolding still distinct on his forehead.

Edited 2021-01-12 10:48 (UTC)

A rabbit that doesn't bolt when you approach is usually a rabbit that's hurt, in Dan's experience. Even domesticated bunnies have a tendency to take off when a stranger gets close enough to reach them; it's just that prey instinct. So the fact that the rabbit stays still when Dan moves slowly towards its cowering place under the rosebush

"Here, I ain't gonna hurt you..." He holds his hand out a few inches away from Bunny so he can smell him, and when Bunny still doesn't make a run for it, he inches closer and gently moves some of the rose bush aside to see this scared, blinded creature, with markings on it that-

"-Bunny? Is that you?" At first Dan thinks that maybe Bunny can shapeshift, but why would he do so into such a defenseless and terrified form. "If it is you, if you can recognize my voice, thump your foot. It's Dan."

It's deeply unfortunate that he can't understand English right now. He can't even think in a language enough to conceptualize how to tell a friend what happened, especially when he's not sure what happened, when he caught a direly familiar scent and then -

- in his severely lessened ability to reason almost everything has been obliterated but the basics of move away from fear and move towards safety, and Dan is at least safe. So he lopes towards Dan, not away, only shivering all over when he catches a trace of the threatening scent -

It is awful to know he has been diminished so much that he can't even fit how much ability to think he has lost into his mind, horrifying to feel so helpless and not even able to fully comprehend how much he is without -

- but Dan is still on that level, still more capable than he is, and the only way to even remotely explain what has happened is to clue Dan in to the only clue he has. Bunny nuzzles up against Dan's hand, clamps his teeth on Dan's sleeve and tugs his hand down to the dirt, to where he can still smell the threat. There's a goatlike hoofprint in the dirt.

Definitely not a normal rabbit. Definitely Bunny. The question is just how.

"The hell...?" Dan rifles through his mental list of beasties and horror, and all he can tell is that if it's a faun, it's certainly a very unusual one, and that there are none of the trademark rings of flowers that one would leave behind. He's heard of satyrs, but in his world they're extinct and he wouldn't know what to do with one. Which means this threat is new.

"Please don't mind this. I need the warmth as much as you do." Dan's fingers are whiteish as he takes Bunny into his arms and holds Bunny gently against his chest, then tucks into the jacket that the Jorg thankfully is letting them wear over their uniforms for all the chilly festivities. And if Bunny doesn't squirm, he starts to follow the trail, breaking off a piece of pine along the way to be a makeshift weapon.

He does mind, in the way that everything right now is a choice between innumerable terrifying things, all his reduced cognition geared into which terrifying option is less terrifying.

Being picked up by something, even something familiar is awful, and his heartrate skyrockets as he twists and then stiffens - the other option is falling to the ground, is trying to run but he's done that and only run into things, without his sight. Underneath his distinct markings he is already a little battered and bruised.

He doesn't have the words for trust anymore. He only has the concept of more fear or less fear, more pain or less pain. The balance tips slightly in Dan's familiar favor. Bunny is stiff and breathing too fast as Dan zips him into the jacket, where warmth calms him slightly.

But his nose is still out of the jacket, sniffing for the threat.

It doesn't take a genius to see that Bunny's terrified as he twists then freezes at being picked up - but Dan can't leave him here, defenseless, especially when he doesn't know if whatever they're tracking is some sort of predator.

He lets Bunny's nose peek out of his jacket, and with the hand not carry the pine shank he uses two fingers to, gently as he can, try and stroke the area between Bunny's shoulders where so many animals like to be petted. If it does anything to soothe Bunny, he'll continue.

Dan's tracked animals plenty of times, but even if he hadn't, the goat-creature they're looking for left a blindingly obvious trail. He follows it quietly, just in case they need to come at it by surprise, and even though he can't tell how much Bunny understands, he hopes that if Bunny smells the threat he'll let Dan know somehow.

The warmth and the petting from a familiar hand is comforting, but with the comfort comes the despair of -

- of what's happened, what has happened, why is he so scared and why can't he see and why can't he think, but in practice all that's able to run through his mind is fear and anxiety and stress, larger emotions boiled down into simple ones.

Until the smell of something awful cuts through the stress and Bunny stops sniffing, freezes for a split second before kicking with one back leg like he's trying to hit the ground, signal danger, and in practice just kicking Dan in the stomach.

"It's okay, it's okay..." Dan murmurs very quietly, not sure how much, if any, Bunny can understand from him, but trying his best to keep his tone of voice calm and comforting, and then he feels the thump-thump against his stomach and stops.

And sees.

The only reason he doesn't say you're an ugly motherfucker is because he doesn't know how well this thing can hear him, and currently it's not looking at him. In Dan's estimation, it's like the ugliest cross of a satyr and a faun, with horns but cloven feet and a matted, shaggy coat and a mud-clotted tassle of a tail dragging on the ground. It's got a stained sack full of something that it's dragging on the ground and a ghoulish face. And after a second, even Dan can smell it.

Currently, it's picking winterberries and sampling them, chomping them in its goat-like mouth and spit-dribbling the ones it doesn't like on the ground in a blood-like, pulpy little trail on the white snow.

The question is what to do from here, attack or talk. Dan, continuing to stroke Bunny's shoulders, removes Bunny from the jacket because his instinct is to talk, and if it attacks him while he talks he doesn't want Bunny in the line of fire. He tucks Bunny into one of the rose bushes and, still gently murmuring to him, brushes some snow and dirt on top of Bunny to camouflage him.

And then, taking a few steps away, holding the pine shank but loosely, in English then Common Tongue. "I'm here peacefully. How can I help you? I am like a meadow. I speak with the voice of a monster. How can I help?"

The creature's head jerks up and it evaluates Dan with a long, yellow-eyed stare. It's face isn't particularly human, but its eyes are closer to catlike than goat or human.

"Help?" its has a rancid chuckle at the suggestion. "Up for a little butchery, mortal? How nice. Nobody ever wants to help me."

The goat creature drops its sack with a meaty, wet crunch, its ghoulish smile wide and dripping half-chewed berries. Its red coat might have been scarlet once, but now it's matted and browned with age and . . . something that's still damp.

"How many children would you say are on this beautiful pile of bolts? And how many can you carry at one time?"

"Oh, no." Dan's voice stays calm, firm but somehow nonjudgmental, and he doesn't move for his makeshift weapon. "Unfortunately, ain't many kids here. Ain't bring-your-kid-to-work day."

It doesn't matter that Dan's disgusted and horrified; this isn't the first creature he's run into that feasts on children. This might not even be the fiftieth. His face is as calm as his voice.

"But if there are any, I reckon you should let me go and carry them. You look like you might could be a little tired."

"You're noseblind." The beast's nostrils flare. "I smell them. Them and their sins."

It kicks the sack over. Nothing's moving inside. A little rancid, dark goo leaks out. "Knock yourself out. But keep up, boy, they're not going to capture themselves."

It's clear the creature intends to trot off, and it starts to do so, looking over its shoulder to see that Dan is picking up the sack (and the pace.)

"I don't think so." If Dan had his gun, this would be the point where he'd draw it, since it's quickly becoming clear there's nothing to salvage in the sapience here. This is a creature that hunts to hunt, and in this case, on people too young to defend themselves.

He doesn't have his gun, so instead he grabs his makeshift shank and moves towards the Krampus, past the sack, and steps down hard on the end of the coat to bring the monster to a stop without compromising the use of his own hands and arms.

"Stop."

Krampus whips around and out of the coat pulls a - a spray bottle, and lashes a spray of liquid over Dan, aiming for his eyes. Where it lands on bare skin it relentlessly burns, and the garden is full of the smell of mace.

"I see how it is! Maybe if you were younger, I'd smell your sins too, eh?"

He reaches into his coat to pull out a wavy-edged blade, tarnished and stained with something other than rust. There are plenty of other baubles and weapons inside the coat that Dan has a chance to glimpse, twisted ornament-looking things, one shining with a bright light through thick red glass, others looking almost like weapons. Some clearly just are weapons. Like the knife he brandished at Dan.

Dan, admittedly, was not remotely expecting that, and while he had one hand ready to throw a jab and the other to block a physical blow, there isn't really a way to block getting splashed in the face with mace. He only just manages to cover his eyes in time as he stumbles away from the coat.

Dan hates that every once in a while, he feels relieved to be able to go "well, fuck that" and resort to an actual fight. But that's where he's at now, feeling the acid burning at his skin, soaking his jacket. Feeling a quasi-satisfying rush of "well, fuck that".

A shiv made of a pine branch isn't going to do much against a blade, but, Dan realizes, there's a whole armory right here in Krampus' oversized coat, and other strange things too. He just has to get to it.

Plan B now includes: tackle this motherfucker, get him on the ground, and loot his pockets like Dan's winning the damn lottery. And so Dan grabs a rock and hurls it at Krampus' head as he finds his footing, and as Krampus reacts to that Dan uses the moment to full on, fearlessly shoulder-ram the monster, hopefully taking them both to the ground.

Krampus goes down cursing, spitting in Dan's face as he scrabbles in his coat with one clawed hand, holding Dan off with the other. A few ornaments spill out of his coat, along with a handful of rusted blades, and Krampus finds the orb he's looking for - but instead of using it on Dan, he smashes it against his own forehead, and vanishes in a cloud of what looks like metal filing from underneath Dan..

His laughter echoes through the garden, though, so he hasn't apparated very far - just towards the garden entrance.

Without the Krampus' hand holding him off, Dan tumbles forward onto the ground, slashing up his hand on one of the rusty blades - but now he has a rusty blade, and he didn't twenty seconds ago.

"God fucking damn it." Dan hates fighting teleporters. They'll run you to exhaustion and laugh about it, and it's clear that's exactly what Krampus wants to do. He grabs a second blade and scrambles to his feet, breaking into a sprint at the Krampus because he can only have so many ornaments to teleport with.

Krampus has dropped a few ornaments in their struggle, all twisted glass in unpleasant putrid yellows, browns, reds and blacks, parodies of Christmas decorations with their glitter-painted scenes of squalor and torment. But the glitter pictures do indicate what they do - one lying at Dan's feet is a firebomb, and another in his path releases a cloud of mustard gas. There are a few more but not much time to pick them all up, especially given Krampus is skittering back to grab a few.

"You'd do best to stay back, boy!" the cat-eyed goat man taunts, hoisting an ornament as he tucks more weapons back into his coat. "I have more ways to make your death miserable than you can even DREAM of!" he cackles at the threat. "On second thought, why don't you try it again? I could use a good laugh right about now."

One of the ornaments inside his hastily tucked coat is still gleaming, and through the thick dark red glass, the light inside is the only thing underneath Krampus' coat that isn't instinctively repulsive.

When the Krampus starts to scramble back for the decorations, Dan pivots and beats him to it. Krampus wouldn't come running back for these baubles if they weren't valuable, and as soon as the Krampus comes up on him he slashes across the Krampus' face with the rusty dagger, picks up the ornament with a glitter picture of a firebomb, and pitches it straight at the Krampus' throat.

Dan's seen his siblings die in ways that he can't even say out loud. Dan's responded to angry spirits that have slowly ripped their victims limb from limb or sucked their souls away over months, monsters that have sucked blood from people for weeks. The Krampus' threat not only doesn't scare him, but it's downright comical.

"Not so fun picking on adults, is it?" Dan lunges for the inside of the coat, where the red lit ornament is, the one that looks so out of place on the entire visage of this putrid creature. And Dan's grinning, because it turns out he lives for this.

"Ah, your guts all string out the same!" Krampus taunts back, but with an annoyed hiss instead of an amused one as he dodges the firebomb and it catches on his sack.

Krampus throws off his sack, dancing the red ornament just out of Dan's reach, lashing out with one sharply hoofed foot. When Dan lunges for the ornament again, Krampus headbutts him, or attempts to, a glint in his eye and the silencing of his taunts too clearly indicating that the red ornament, unlike the smoldering, stinking rotten bag, is too important to give up.

Krampus appears to reach for the glowing bauble, but the powder he throws out instead creates a stinking yellow fog between Dan and the Krampus. If Dan doesn't manage to snatch the goat-footed imp, this will be his clean getaway surely.

Dan gets hit by both the kick and the headbutt, but his fall is softened by the snow. His goal, now, is to get that ornament, but Krampus moves fast enough that he gets the yellow fog out and Dan falls back, coughing. Krampus escapes for the moment.

Dan retreats from the fog and catches his breath, trying to think through where the Krampus would go on the Rig. Usually the Rig feels too small, but right now it's much too large, with too many hiding spots, too many passageways, and way too many potential victims.

He returns to where Bunny is hiding and, hoping his scent isn't too masked by the yellow fog, holds his hand out for Bunny to sniff and murmurs to him before taking Bunny into his jacket again. "Hate to take you on a hunt, Bunny, but I can't reckon you got anyone safer to be with like this than me."

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A Child's Town in the Winter [Closed]

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