inhotwater | BEAUTY AND THE BEAST AU 1

You-- [He shivers a little, at that touch. Oh. He swallows.] You won't remember anyway.

[He's... going to back away. He has to.]

Sleep.

[He'll throw a blanket over Oswald, at least. Get this boy warm.]

[there is definitely a pout there as he pulls away, and he half reaches for him again, weakly] At least tell me your name.

...No.

[He's... He's going to step away completely, now.

Oswald will fall asleep soon, anyway, then he can light the fire.]

Rude. [VERY MUCH POUTING NOW as he drops his arm--and yeah, tho, as predicted, he's falling back asleep]

[Good. Finally.

Now, he can light the fire and just... He'll keep an eye on Oswald, for a while. To make sure he's not dying.

By the time Oswald wakes up, though, the room will be empty. His shoulder is wrapped, there's a blanket tucked around him, and the fire was surely on. But that dust was definitely not part of his dream. It seems like no one but him has been in this room in years, and yet...

...

No one in sight, though.]

[when Oswald comes to, it's slowly and fuzzily. At first, anyway. But as soon as he makes an attempt to move, he hisses in pain, flinching as both the trauma to his ankle and his shoulder make themselves known. From there, the world comes into very sharp focus very quickly, and he's gasping for a moment as he clutches at his shoulder, gritting his teeth until the initial surge of pain lessens to a dull throb. Then, when he can breathe normally again, he grunts, releasing his shoulder to grab at the couch so he can slowly push himself up to a sitting position.

The blanket pools around his waist, causing him to take more of a closer note of it.

...huh.

That definitely wasn't there when he went to sleep. And his shoulder was definitely not bandaged like this. There's the flitting, momentary thought that maybe he did this and forgot in a feverish haze but that's quickly dismissed. He didn't have the supplies, and there's no way his ankle would've supported looking for it. Oswald's eyes narrow, and he leans over the side of the couch just slightly, looking for any evidence of footprints]

[There's... not footprints, exactly. There's definitely signs of the dust in the room being disturbed, but it's unclear in what way, exactly. There's parts where it almost looks like something was dragged across the dust, maybe.

But no footprints.

The remaining embers of the fire are going out, now, so the room's getting a little colder...

What are you gonna do now, Oswald?]

[the first thing he does is try to push to his feet. Which is a good idea in theory--but the moment he puts any weight on that ankle it spears pain right up his leg, absolutely burning, and he collapses back onto the couch with a hiss.

Okay, so not that.]

....hello? [he calls it--maybe they're close-by?]

[...

No response.]

[louder, a second time] Hello?!

[. . . . . .]

I can't really walk right now so I'm not sure what you're expecting of me, exactly!

[he might be yelling to himself like a crazy person. All signs point to "no," but...he also doesn't know what he's dealing with until he meets this person. People? Might be people.]

[Still no response.

Seems like you MIGHT just be yelling at nothing, Oswald.]

[Oswald huffs a bit when there's still no reply. Well.

He suppose what he has to do for now is wait, then. Or find another way of getting around. Oswald glances over at the stick he used to drag himself in. It...could be an option. It'll just need some modification. And he reaches for the stick, pulling it over, and then fishing a small knife out of the inside of his vest. Then he starts to carve whittling the top down slightly, before reaching for some excess firewood and slowly whittling out a hole in the center that goes about halfway through the log. It'll take him a solid amount of time, but he's basically trying to whittle himself a very crude crutch.]

[Seems like the best plan right now. Way to improvise, Oswald!

Because, yeah, there's not gonna be any further sign of life for a while. Honestly, with the way this castle looks, it's strange to imagine anyone's really been in here for years.]

[GREAT, HE'S SO GREAT AT IMPROVISING, THANKS SO HECKIN MUCH FOR NOTICING!!!!!

but someone else was here. Of that, he's almost certain. Either way, it takes a solid at least three hours to get it to where he needs it to be, before situating that spare firewood on top of the stick, and then cutting the stick down so it's small enough to fit under his arm. Then he's pushing to his feet, testing the crutch out a bit. He's a bit wobbly with it at first...but it seems to hold.

And then he's going to start trying to explore. Just what's on the ground floor, of course, because he is not tackling those stairs right now, but it's a start.]

[Honestly, the castle looks... Well, on first look, it just seems abandoned. Like no one has been here in a very long time. Many of the furnishings have a thick layer of dust. There's curtains drawn over every window, though for some they're... rather clumsily installed. Looks like whoever did this went more for blocking out the light than aesthetics. Especially considering many of the windows are broken, anyway.

But there are... some signs that there's been movement in the castle. Here and there, there's some remains of fruit peels, or pits, as well as some animal bones here and there. Mostly small ones. Small birds, some rodents, maybe the odd fish?

...It almost seems more like there's been an animal inside here, rather than any people.

The interior is also not very opulent, like one might expect from a castle. Some of this is clearly because, well... it looks like people have come here and ransacked the place for valuables in the past. But it doesn't look like it was particularly impressive, as far as castles go, before that.

What an odd place. Kind of... depressing.]

[ugh. Depressing is right. It's still a castle though, so it's still impressive to a guy that has absolutely never in his life been to one.

So even though it's absolutely horrendous when it comes to cleaning, it still somehow just....holds a note of grandiose. He's impressed, despite the current state of the place.]

You'd think whomever would take care of this better.... [muttered, as he nudges some bones out of the way with his foot. When he does eventually find the kitchen, though, it's a relief, and even moreso when he finds the pantry. Granted, there's not MUCH there, but there is some dried out rice grains that have somehow not gone bad, as well as some ancient-looking salted meat.

Well.

Beggars can't be choosy.

He's going to start to put together a minimal gruel with that, managing also to find some dried herbs that he can throw in]

[Well, hey. It's edible, at least!

While he's cooking, Oswald will notice... a skittering sound, maybe? It's hard to tell. But... is someone there?

Maybe by the doorway?]

[.....skittering??? Oswald's attention sharpens on that--though he keeps cooking the gruel, now adding the bay leaves and starting to hum quietly to himself, really listening for those noises now]

[There's... an odd noise, for a moment. High pitched, only barely audible. Just what the heck is that...?

If he weren't paying close attention, Oswald probably would've missed it entirely.]

[....what the fuck. That makes Oswald almost falter in his actions, but...he manages to keep stirring, and is fairly certain he's convincing about it. He pauses in his humming so he can lift a spoonful of the gruel to his mouth, tasting a small sip of it, humming in consideration]

Not bad...could use a bit more coriander. [and he's reaching for those herbs]

[As he keeps going, there's... an odd sound, again. Different, this time. Like someone tapping quietly on the wall. And it's... going up?

Way up.

It goes quiet again, as Edward just... watches from the ceiling.]

[the CEILING?!

That is...mind-bendingly horrifying. How is whatever it is on the ceiling?! What sort of creature can do that!?

There's a brief falter in Oswald's stirring, but he quickly pulls himself together before it can become noticable. He has some sort of...vague recollections of what he THOUGHT was a dream, but now he's reconsidering that, mind racing to try and formulate a plan of what he's going to do next. A creature who can climb walls. A creature which, if it wanted an easy meal, would've picked him off quite quickly while he was still on the couch. Perhaps a demon. It's certainly something...inhuman, that is for certain, if it's walking on the ceiling.

Right.

He's got to face this thing.]

Yes. I believe that's done.

[he hums a bit] However....I believe there's enough for two.

[he spins, suddenly, holding the pot, and tilts his head up to face whatever this is head-on]

Did you want some?

[Yeah, have fun staring at what absolutely seems to be some sort of bat beast, Oswald.

The creature in question is staring as well. When Oswald spins around, the creature's eyes get bigger, wider, and it just... backs up a little, on the ceiling, ears folding back a bit.

Does it look...

...startled?]

Ah. [It's....well it sure is something to look at. In the dim light from the windows he can get a better idea of the shape of it. Definitely bat-like in nature, but familiar to his dreams, which in this case, might've actually been real. It's...monstrous. It really is. Especially perched on the ceiling like that.

There's a brief pause while Oswald's brain feels like it's starting to do try and do some some internal screaming--but he keeps his expression mildly friendly, even as the panicked urge to run wants to take over. He shoves it down, however, and idly stirs the pot, all the while not taking his eyes off the beast]

It's not much--just rice and salted meat. However, I believe it's passible for what I have to work with.

[he smirks, then] Or would you rather sit there staring all day? [dryly, with a hint of amusement. Well, at least his autopilot of snark is working. It's honestly what's saving him right now; if he didn't have that instinct, he'd be in a world of trouble]

[Edward's heart is beating at about a mile a minute, right now. The few times he'd shown himself to people in the past decade, it'd been quick. Maybe they'd caught a quick glimpse of him before he managed to scare them off and that was that.

Before, Oswald hadn't been lucid. But now...

Now, Edward really is being spoken to. For real.

It's terrifying.

He feels a little frozen, but he manages a quick snarl, before he instinctively backs up further.

Maybe that'll scare him off...?]

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