unblinkered | this state of affairs is incorrect

Brenda's is closed. Brenda's is never closed. Not during its usual hours, not at 5am. Except on national holidays, or during severe weather, neither of which is present today. There's no notice on the door, just the Open sign flipped around to Closed. This state of affairs is incorrect.

There was no indication that the coffee shop was in financial trouble. Max knew as much from eavesdropping on the teens working in the back. The manager didn't come out much, but she never seemed alarmed or upset- always a little smug, if anything. Max wasn't sure if her name was Brenda, or if that was just the chain- she was always Ma'am to the staff. Her employees-only room down the hall, near the bathrooms- usually dead quiet. All day long, at least when Max was there. Enough activity- footsteps, occasional laughter- to tell she was there, but nothing that indicated any trouble for the store.
An emergency, then. She'd been called away on some urgent business, and... told the kids not to come into work? It wasn't as if she did much managing- could she not trust her staff to do their job unsupervised, despite more or less doing so day in and day out? And...
And no, she couldn't have gone somewhere. Her car, that Volkswagen beetle was there. It was definitely hers, she left to go get lunch every day at 1:00. No other cars parked nearby, that he could see. So, unless she'd gone on foot to something extremely urgent, she was still in the building.
Max knocks. There's no answer.
Max goes around behind the building and takes the key from under the dumpster, where a less than cautious morning-shift barista had been fool enough to retrieve it while someone like Max could have been watching. He opens the door and goes inside, because they don't have cameras and he's a regular- they wouldn't charge him with breaking and entering, he's sure, even if they did find out.

People who aren't Max might have shrugged and gone to a different coffee shop. People who are Max are instead inclined to find out what it is that disturbed their nice, orderly little universe and demand it account for itself.

It's dark and no one is there. Max looks around for anything out of place, and finds that there is exactly one thing out of place. The manager's door is open. This is considerably more unusual than the related fact, which is that the manager isn't there. Max has seen how careful she is to lock that door before going anywhere.
He goes inside. Privacy is not something Max has a lot of regard for- more something he resents, to some extent. And the room is clearly the sort of thing someone might want to keep private.

There are bookshelves, and there is a desk, and there are chalkboards, and they are all covered in paper. As is the floor. The paper is covered in smears. Some huge collection of notes, or documents, or something, all smudged into illegibility. Written in pencil, erased by a particularly smeary eraser. Most of the shapes of the smears suggest diagrams and math more than they do writing. Max inspects all of it, searching for clues. Nothing is legible, except for a few notes posted by the door.
The other door. Not the one leading in. A door with scorch marks and dents. A door set into the wall, where according to the geometry of the building, it ought to open into the alleyway, despite no such door being present. The legible notes, written in ink and taped to the wall, read "I HAVE TO GO", "DO NOT OPEN" and "SOMEONE PLEASE BLOCK THIS OFF" and "DON'T LET HER IN" and "YOUR NAME IS PRECIOUS", scribbled in hasty capital letters.

Max wonders what is behind the door. He's unnerved somewhat by the surrounding evidence of the manager having some sort of psychotic break, but his thoughts have not had sufficient time to settle into questions before opening the door. He is still in the information-gathering stage, and there can clearly be nothing behind the door but additional information to gather. The question of whether to open the mysterious door in the mysterious place fails to even cross his mind.
He steps into a dark room.

Which abruptly stops being a dark room, and starts being a brightly-lit forest. Max's hand, halfway through reaching for the light switch, falls to his side.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

imeanforever

"What would you have expected to notice?" inquires Promise.

From:

unblinkered

"To notice..."

This is a surprisingly good question.

"To notice things like- like magic doors! That... are those that rare, you- you said I needed to go home, are there other people who go home? Why haven't they told- what about the physicists, wouldn't they find... fairyons, or- oh, god, oh god. Fairies- is magic a thing, it's got to be a thing if there's doors that move, christ, someone..."

He looks at her again. She definitely has wings. No special effects going on here. This is real life. Real life is supposed to be very bad at keeping secrets. But then, this. Fairy. That's that.

From:

imeanforever

"Sorcery is a thing but it doesn't work in the mortal world," says Promise. "The doors aren't really common - I certainly don't have a total of how many there are in the entire fairy realm but I'd have to fly for days to find one stable enough to use, and longer to find one with a cooperative gatekeeper."

From:

unblinkered

"...I don't buy it. You didn't say- what about mortals? If people go back and forth at all... wouldn't the secret get out? How long has this been happening? How long... wait, magic doesn't... why doesn't it- no, that's a different question."

He starts pacing nervously.

From:

imeanforever

"I think mortals have only come through able to speak for the last few - millions years?" says Promise. "I'm not personally old enough to remember it. I don't care if you go home and tell everybody you met a leaflet, but if you don't go home soon you're going to wind up vassaled or dead."

From:

unblinkered

Millions. Millions of- that's longer than there's been people, that... there were fairies, humanoid fairies who... before... what's that mean for evolution? The history of... or maybe before they weren't humanoid? The resemblance goes the other way, causally? Dinosaur fairies? Max realizes he's started thinking about dinosaur fairies and mentally slaps himself back on track.

"So nobody's ever- wait. You... what's "vassaled"?"

From:

imeanforever

"...Oh, I should warn you about that. Don't tell any fairies your real name, make something up - and don't eat anything here unless it is directly hand-to-mouth from a fairy who you are willing to be bound to serve until you die. It might be a better option than starving, if you like the fairy, but ideally you'll go home to safe mortal food before it's more than a minor discomfort."

From:

unblinkered

He stares.

"Bound to serve until...?"

He turns around and starts muttering to himself.

"Doors that move, folding space, okay, unusual system, fits with... wings, some trick with mass, reasonable, that... bound to serve? That's- neural- brains are complicated, people... you can't... simple effect... someone would have to... nanobots? Nano... magic... thing? Why names, food would make sense but knowing a name! The mechanism... where's the softwa- who wrote- why would... that's not basic, that would have to..."

He turns around again.

"When you say "bound to serve", do you mean that they can threaten to kill you, or... is it mind control? How do they get it by knowing your name, why would that be the restriction, any effect that could trigger on a match between name and name-knowing could easily trigger on something easier. Why- did someone make magic? Why would they design that to...?"

From:

imeanforever

"I mean, if the Queen - the only person to whom I am vassal, because she knows every fairy's name - showed up here and told me to do something it would happen without my decisions in the matter entering into it, although technically my mind would be free to think whatever thoughts I liked. If you told me your name or took food from me I could do the same to you. If any magic that exists was designed it was so long ago that no one remembers why or who, I assure you."

From:

unblinkered

...'YOUR NAME IS PRECIOUS'. Brenda- Brenda? The manager must have known. The manager must have used that door. The manager... that mystery hardly seems worth pursuing at the moment. He'll look into it later, perhaps.

"...and why the hell does it work that way? It's not... those rules are fundamentally complicated, someone had to... the Queen? How long has this Queen been around, would she know?"

From:

imeanforever

"The Queen's been around as long as anyone can remember and I very much do not recommend attracting her attention in any way, shape, or form," says Promise firmly.

From:

unblinkered

"...care to explain why that is?"

'DON'T LET HER IN' springs to mind. The queen...? No, more likely some other hostile fairy. Although... there was exactly one HER that was present on the other side of the gate, noticing him immediately and telling him that absolutely nobody else in the world could be trusted, including and especially the Queen of the entire realm.

Horrifying realization sets in. Max doesn't let it show on his face.

From:

imeanforever

"The Queen knows every fairy's name. She doesn't have yours, but that doesn't give you any special protection from anything else her vassals can do, ranging from magic to forcefeeding to just tying you up and torturing you until you give up your name anyway. Look, do you really want to quiz me about the way the fairy realm works? I would think you'd want to get out of it as soon as possible."

From:

unblinkered

Want to get out. A way out. She wants him to go with her to find a way out of this world, and back into his. DON'T LET HER IN. The vassal thing... a bluff? If he couldn't eat anything here, he'd get hungry, be forced to go back eventually, leading her right to the exit. At least, the eating things part. YOUR NAME IS PRECIOUS- that much, at least, had to have been a real warning. Max can't see how not telling her his name could be playing into her hands.

"I think..." he says, carefully, "I really would like to quiz you about the way the fairy realm works." (To be fair, he actually really would.) "Is this place not safe to talk in? Should we go somewhere we're less likely to be overheard?"

From:

imeanforever

"This area isn't especially heavily trafficked, but my house would be more private, if that's what you want to do with whatever calories you came in with."

From:

unblinkered

"Well, I don't have the first idea of where I'd find a- a gate, you said, so I've hardly got an alternative. You have a house?"

He does not, in fact, have all that many calories in him. He'd just woken up, and was on his way to Brenda's for breakfast and coffee when all this happened. But he's not worried about that- that part is a bluff to get him moving along faster. There's no reason for there to be two triggers for the vassal thing, after all. It's probably safe for him to eat whatever's edible.

From:

imeanforever

"In my tree," she says. "It's quick flying, it'll take longer walking because there's a river you'll have to cross and I definitely can't carry you."

From:

unblinkered

"What's "quick" and "longer"? Few minutes? Does the river have a bridge, or a crossing? Or is it just assumed everyone's going to have wings?"

Is she trying to dissuade him by coming up with obstacles? If she wants him to go somewhere, to some gate, to open it or something... she'd be taking him to it, right? Does she really not know where the gate is, and needs him to find it? So she'd know that her house doesn't have a gate... but in that case, she's going to be very disappointed when she finds out he's not lying about not knowing how to find one.

This is quite the tangled web of deceit.

Edited Date: 2014-09-01 12:04 am (UTC)

From:

imeanforever

"Everyone here does have wings unless they've been cursed," says Promise. "There's not a bridge, but there's a detour where you could probably wade. It'll take maybe two hours all told?"

From:

unblinkered

Two hours? And he's going to ruin his- no, he can take off his slacks and carry them.

Two hours is a lot of time. It's time enough to ask a lot of nosy questions.

"Sounds good. Which way are we going?"

From:

imeanforever

"This way. And if we meet any other fairies pretend that I've fed you, okay? I can't offer much of a fight to somebody who wants to take you but if they don't want a fight it'll put them off."

From:

unblinkered

Pretend she's fed him? But... okay, so... if she's bluffing and the food thing is a trick, then that wouldn't discourage anyone. Maybe she doesn't expect to encounter anyone? If the food thing is serious...

Max is quite hungry. If it comes to that... he might be able to steal some food from her house without her noticing, to eat in an emergency. She might not notice she can give him commands until he's escaped, although there's the risk that she might try to command him anyway out of desperation if he does anything too overt to resist her.

For now, at least...

"Will do." and, once they've embarked, "What happens if I eat something that doesn't belong to anyone- an apple off a wild tree, or something?"

From:

imeanforever

"That might be safe, if no one notices, or it might turn out someone's got a claim on the tree. I can't get vassaled that way - it's very hard to vassal a fairy with food unless you're a mortal offering mortal food - but you could. That's also the reason it's hand-to-mouth feeding if you do wind up taking food - it shortens the chain of responsibility so no one else can wedge in and say that was their - is an apple a nut or something?"

From:

unblinkered

"You don't have- you have nuts, but you don't have- okay, different ecosystem, but also different plane of existence, that would- why-"

He sighs.

"It's a fruit. Pretty common, tasty sort of red thing with more solid flesh than most. Kind of the archetypal example of fruit on Earth- wait, I'm assuming this isn't somewhere on Earth, right? Different dimension, or something?"