Mell :3

No one tell Lucy || TMA RP ACC

[dont-tell-lucy]

((Howdy ho! This is Abyss, because this plotline has a baker's dozen characters so I need a new spot for them. Plus, I wasn't using this blog lol.))

((Here, we follow the story of 13 kids, ranging from ages 8 to 18, and a terrible, terrible caretaker. This blog is owned by Mell, as a vent point, and takes place in the world of The Magnus Archives podcast.))

((Due to the intended trajectory, i believe tws are necessary. In descending order of weight [how frequent they are] we have: child abuse, manipulation, violence, gore, general tma tws, emotional abuse, physical abuse, spousal abuse, cannibalism, self harm, and implied sexual abuse))

((Characters and associated tags will be below:

#The True Heir - Mell, they/them

#Neverland Local - Casey, it/its

#Visceral Cook - Ryan, he/him

#We Are Alpharius - Alpharius, they/them

#Blood Marred Keys - Roland Yamaha, he/him

#Plummet - Ciela, she/her

#Twisted Forget-me-nots - Azaleia, he/she/they

#I'll Never Die - Eric Javion, he/him

#Like A Dog - Hunter, he/him

#I'll Let it Burn - Willow, she/he

#Of Clay And Heat - Hamilton, he/they

#R-O -T-T-O-G-O - Elizabeth, she/her

#Snuffed - Nox, he/she

))

[pleiades-cabin-talk]

Rose is walking through one of London's many alleyways, for one reason or another. maybe they're going somewhere specific, or maybe he's just exploring.

What they're doing doesn't matter, as he hears someone curse loudly, followed by a few bricks and a teenager landing in front of them with a loud crunching sound.

He looks to be about 16, with dark barely grey hair and deathly pale skin. he looks worryingly thin. The kid's outfit consists of a long sleeve band shirt, worn jeans, and skate shoes.

After a minute, he sits up, wincing as he pops his arm back into it's socket.

That was a six story fall.

@dont-tell-lucy

Rose whelps then gasps after what plays out before him, stumbling a few steps back before shaking his head, willing determination into his veins instead. Electricity flits up his sides for a split second when he regains his footing, jolting forward and kneeling besides the fallen boy.

"Goodness! Are you alright hun?" clearly he's not, and Rose knows and sees that, but he asks anyway, shoving a few of the bricks aside before his hands come to hover around the frail built child, not quite touching them just yet while assessing his state.

"That was quite the fall kid, can you tell me what parts of your body hurt?" He feels frantic, and surely speaks just a tad too fast, yet keeps his voice remarkably smooth and low, reminiscent of soft drumming, the steady hum of rain upon fresh, newly grown leafs on the trees, of the forest, of the sea.

He can only hope that, if the boy is rattled, it be soothing, even if simply subconsciously.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Eric pushes Rose away, scampering to his feet and taking a few steps away with a slight frown on his face.

"I'm fine, don't touch me."

He says very tersely, sinking into a bit of a reserved stance. from what Rose saw before they were pushed away, he isn't lying. it genuinely seems like his one injury was his dislocated shoulder. but...

he doesn't look fine.

he's twitchy and wincing whenever he moves.

[the-archivist-tma]

((https://www.tumblr.com/martinblackwoodofficial/780329103124496384/martin-is-just-doing-something-probably-his-job?source=share continuation of this))

Jon is in his office, doing archivist stuff, when he hears a scampering across the roof tiles above them. It probably would have dismissed such a thing to be rodents or other vermin, if a roof tile didn't give out and dump a teenager in front of their desk. She just lays face down on the ground, uttering a pained noise.

@dont-tell-lucy

I- are you alright???

[dont-tell-lucy]

The kid stays lying, not immediately responding. After a little bit, Jon hears a muffled, defeated 'no'.

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]

[butchdragondyke]

tags from @ceaseless-rambler

[spinalfluidexplosiongirl]

the etymology for those wondering

[nobodys-soldier]

Elias gets home from whatever he does, and at first he notices nothing out of the ordinary. After a bit, though, he hears what sounds to be… sobbing? Coming from his closet.

Assuming he goes to investigate, he spots a shuddering mass of what looks to be every spare soft thing in his apartment. The sobs are clearly coming from it.

@dont-tell-lucy

“Oh, Jesus.”

He’s going to need to get a towel. They’re making a mess everywhere.

[dont-tell-lucy]

After Elias speaks, the shuddering of the mound increases, and the sobbing becomes more muffled. Whoever is in the mound shifts away from him slightly. Whoever is under there seems very scared.

[nobodys-soldier]

He sighs, placing a hand on his hip and walking over to give it a light kick, see if that makes it look up. How do these things keep getting into his apartment…?

“Hello?”

[dont-tell-lucy]

The kid scoots away, emerging from the safety of the mound to press himself against the far wall of the closet.

It's the same kid as last time.

He seems quite scared, tears still trickling down his face and smudging the eyeshadow and mascara clearly put there to hide a black eye. His hair is slicked back, and he's wearing a tight button-up. He looks like someone straight from a choir, but more notably, he looks... strangled, and distinctly uncomfortable. He raises an arm to block his face.

"...p-please don't hurt me... again..."

He sounds distraught, almost broken. He's one of the people who were shown in the file that Jackson handed Elias.

What were the precise instructions again? 'Keep an eye out for them, protect them if necessary, inform Jackson when he encounters one.'? That sounds about right.

[nobodys-soldier]

Elias gets home from whatever he does, and at first he notices nothing out of the ordinary. After a bit, though, he hears what sounds to be… sobbing? Coming from his closet.

Assuming he goes to investigate, he spots a shuddering mass of what looks to be every spare soft thing in his apartment. The sobs are clearly coming from it.

@dont-tell-lucy

“Oh, Jesus.”

He’s going to need to get a towel. They’re making a mess everywhere.

[dont-tell-lucy]

After Elias speaks, the shuddering of the mound increases, and the sobbing becomes more muffled. Whoever is in the mound shifts away from him slightly. Whoever is under there seems very scared.

[dont-tell-lucy]

((yknow, the more i look at my character tags here, the more i realize the absolute genius of some))

[dont-tell-lucy]

((*ACCIDENTAL genius. Not trying to toot my own horn lol))

[dont-tell-lucy]

((yknow, the more i look at my character tags here, the more i realize the absolute genius of some))

[eliasbouchardofficial]

When Elias opens the door to his office, the first thing they notice is how bright it is, almost blinding her with the contrast.

The second thing he notices is the child sleeping on their desk.

He looks to be no older than 10, wearing a tank top, skinny jeans, and pink socks in sandals.

More noteworthy, however, are her large wings. Like his hair, her wings look sooty with orange underlights, like a dying fire. Elias can't quite tell if the kid's wings are stunted or just young.

- @dont-tell-lucy

((I do hope I'm pronouning correctly for Elias, do tell me if I'm wrong.))

*they cover their eyes, hurt a bit by the brightness... They definitely prefer duller lighting.*

Ah... Hello. Can i politely inquire about what you're doing in my office?

[dont-tell-lucy]

The kid doesn't respond, seeming fast asleep.

A further glance around the office reveals the cause of the brightness to be a frankly impractical amount of oil lamps, especially for a ten year old to have seemingly just been carrying around. Less obviously is the half-open window he probably climbed through to get in and a rucksack nearby.

A quick check on the nearest of the 20ish lamps or use of the Eye would tell Elias that the lamps are about half full, which would be about 6 hours for the make.

[eliasbouchardofficial]

*they gently approach the kid, putting a hand on their shoulder. They need... A better place to sleep than Elias' desk*

Hello? Are you okay?

It can't be that comfortable, sleeping on a desk...

[dont-tell-lucy]

the kid immediately and violently jolts awake, flailing to the point that he ends up tumbling off the desk with a squawk. after a bit of panicked flailing and hyperventilating, she slowly pulls herself off of the floor and just stares at Elias. his wings are pulled in, as if to make herself seem smaller and less threatening. after a bit, he very softly speaks.

"...hi,"

[residentsofhollowville]

Brutus is, for one reason or another, currently wandering the woods around Hollowville when he spots someone else.

He looks to be a teen, maybe 15 years old, wearing a red flannel and jeans. He has a rifle slung on his back, and seems to be hunting.

- @dont-tell-lucy

He looks so much like his sister that he almost yells her name. A closer look reveals this not to be the case. Still. He recognizes kin.

In his weak little voice, he shouts "Hello?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Hunter spins around, staring into Brutus' eyes. He freezes, like a deer in headlights. He slowly raises a hand, waving. He hesitates for a moment, before starting to walk over to the other.

[residentsofhollowville]

He wishes he had his board. This stranger makes him dodgy. It helps to know he's probably just as scared as he is.

He waves back stiffly, taking a couple steps closer.

"Who're you?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Hunter stops, just close enough to hear Brutus. When he speaks, his voice sounds gruff, as if from disuse.

"...Hunter. You are..?"

He sounds noticeably brittish, with underlines of hick-in-the-sticks American.

[residentsofhollowville]

"I'm Brutus."

He sounds like he's from around here. But he's not, is he? He would know.

Why can't he trust that?

[dont-tell-lucy]

"Well met."

He says, giving a slight nod as if to tip his nonexistent hat. He starts to say something, before his head snaps around to stare into the woods. Hunter takes the rifle off of his back, starting to stalk towards whatever he noticed, seemingly forgetting Brutus.

[residentsofhollowville]

What kind of child says well met?

The same kind that'd try to be his friend, he supposes.

He sneaks off after.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Hunter is really fast and dead silent, picking through the forest like he's lived his whole life here. Brutus gets left a bit in the dust, and hears a gunshot. When he catches up, he sees Hunter grabbing a dead stag by the horns, his rifle still smoking.

[residentsofhollowville]

He slaps a hand over his mouth. His legs are shaking. He tries to run, but he can't bring himself to budge.

He must not be spotted.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Hunter doesn't immediately notice Brutus, struggling to drag the stag onto some sort of sled. He then stills, and quickly tosses his rifle out of his reach.

"I can smell your fear. Relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

He says somewhat calmly in spite of his shaky voice.

[residentsofhollowville]

He pries his hand away, still trembling fiercely. He doesn't trust him. He doesn't trust most people, but do either of them quite qualify anymore?

He points vaguely to the deer, a million questions left mute. The only one that leaves his mouth is "Why?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Hunter shrugs, finally getting the stag on the sled and grabbing the cord.

"Bullets are cheaper than meat."

He starts to drag the sled in a generally northwards direction, before adding,

"Rifles, are not. If you intend to follow me, please grab it,"

He gestures at the rifle.

"I can't be trusted with it right now."

Hunter half-mutters hatefully.

[residentsofhollowville]

He obligingly picks it up, disconcerting by the weight of it in his hands. This is dangerous. People can say what they want of guns, but at the end of the day, they are meant to kill.

[dont-tell-lucy]

The rifle is a wood stock Remington Model 700 chambered in .308 Winchester. Neatly carved upon the buttstock is the motto 'live by the hunt die by the hunt'. The rifle is clearly old and well cared for.

Hunter gives Brutus a curt nod and a grunted 'thanks', walking in silence for about half an hour before the two of them come upon a cabin or lodge of some sort. Hunter stops out front, rummaging through his pockets for something.

[residentsofhollowville]

"Where are we?'

Talking hurts. He feels small and feeble. He is not small and feeble.

He holds the gun, and it provides him no comfort. This is a bad place, he knows it. When he tried to come to it, it drove him into a hole. The chase always ends in blood.

[dont-tell-lucy]

"my home,"

Hunter says, sorting through a ring of keys before unlocking and opening the door. He turns to Brutus, grabbing the cord of the sled as he does so.

"Head on in, I have to get this to the shed. Set the rifle in the rack by the door."

Hunter starts to walk off, before pausing.

"Oh, if pops stops you, tell him you're my friend."

He walks off, vanishing around the side of the house.

[eliasbouchardofficial]

When Elias opens the door to his office, the first thing they notice is how bright it is, almost blinding her with the contrast.

The second thing he notices is the child sleeping on their desk.

He looks to be no older than 10, wearing a tank top, skinny jeans, and pink socks in sandals.

More noteworthy, however, are her large wings. Like his hair, her wings look sooty with orange underlights, like a dying fire. Elias can't quite tell if the kid's wings are stunted or just young.

- @dont-tell-lucy

((I do hope I'm pronouning correctly for Elias, do tell me if I'm wrong.))

*they cover their eyes, hurt a bit by the brightness... They definitely prefer duller lighting.*

Ah... Hello. Can i politely inquire about what you're doing in my office?

[dont-tell-lucy]

The kid doesn't respond, seeming fast asleep.

A further glance around the office reveals the cause of the brightness to be a frankly impractical amount of oil lamps, especially for a ten year old to have seemingly just been carrying around. Less obviously is the half-open window he probably climbed through to get in and a rucksack nearby.

A quick check on the nearest of the 20ish lamps or use of the Eye would tell Elias that the lamps are about half full, which would be about 6 hours for the make.

[jaubaius]

A bird explaining to a hedgehog crossing so it doesn’t die.

[serialreblogger]

!!! ok but that’s legitimately what it’s doing!! That’s a corvid right there (looks like a hooded crow, to be precise), which means it’s intelligent enough to recognize, a) cars are dangerous and streets should be treated with a certain degree of caution, b) this car’s slowing down for them–cars do that sometimes–which means they’re not in imminent danger, so it doesn’t have to fly away just yet, c) that hedgehog’s still gonna get killed if it doesn’t MOVE, FAST (cars can change speed very quickly and the hedgehog’s still in the way), and almost certainly also d) if the bird does nothing it gets a free lunch.

Y’all, Y’ALL. This bird is consciously deciding to put itself in danger in order to save the life of a very stupid creature. A creature which, if the bird did nothing, could be free food. 

i can’t - look if you follow me you know I have a thing for corvids, but this is - like!!! People are always saying “ah yes they have sub-human intelligence and don’t consider anything that isn’t immediately necessary for their own survival/pleasure,” but! Whether or not it can do philosophy, this crow is clearly demonstrating compassion. Even if it’s just the kind of compassion a toddler shows to a snail, a social creature that instinctively recognizes the potential for emotion in other beings, that’s still huge and cool and important and corvids!!! are! neat!!! 

[verdantvulpus]

They’re incredibly smart! And kind!!!

[residentsofhollowville]

Brutus is, for one reason or another, currently wandering the woods around Hollowville when he spots someone else.

He looks to be a teen, maybe 15 years old, wearing a red flannel and jeans. He has a rifle slung on his back, and seems to be hunting.

- @dont-tell-lucy

He looks so much like his sister that he almost yells her name. A closer look reveals this not to be the case. Still. He recognizes kin.

In his weak little voice, he shouts "Hello?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Hunter spins around, staring into Brutus' eyes. He freezes, like a deer in headlights. He slowly raises a hand, waving. He hesitates for a moment, before starting to walk over to the other.

[residentsofhollowville]

He wishes he had his board. This stranger makes him dodgy. It helps to know he's probably just as scared as he is.

He waves back stiffly, taking a couple steps closer.

"Who're you?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Hunter stops, just close enough to hear Brutus. When he speaks, his voice sounds gruff, as if from disuse.

"...Hunter. You are..?"

He sounds noticeably brittish, with underlines of hick-in-the-sticks American.

[residentsofhollowville]

"I'm Brutus."

He sounds like he's from around here. But he's not, is he? He would know.

Why can't he trust that?

[dont-tell-lucy]

"Well met."

He says, giving a slight nod as if to tip his nonexistent hat. He starts to say something, before his head snaps around to stare into the woods. Hunter takes the rifle off of his back, starting to stalk towards whatever he noticed, seemingly forgetting Brutus.

[residentsofhollowville]

What kind of child says well met?

The same kind that'd try to be his friend, he supposes.

He sneaks off after.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Hunter is really fast and dead silent, picking through the forest like he's lived his whole life here. Brutus gets left a bit in the dust, and hears a gunshot. When he catches up, he sees Hunter grabbing a dead stag by the horns, his rifle still smoking.

[residentsofhollowville]

He slaps a hand over his mouth. His legs are shaking. He tries to run, but he can't bring himself to budge.

He must not be spotted.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Hunter doesn't immediately notice Brutus, struggling to drag the stag onto some sort of sled. He then stills, and quickly tosses his rifle out of his reach.

"I can smell your fear. Relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

He says somewhat calmly in spite of his shaky voice.

[residentsofhollowville]

He pries his hand away, still trembling fiercely. He doesn't trust him. He doesn't trust most people, but do either of them quite qualify anymore?

He points vaguely to the deer, a million questions left mute. The only one that leaves his mouth is "Why?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Hunter shrugs, finally getting the stag on the sled and grabbing the cord.

"Bullets are cheaper than meat."

He starts to drag the sled in a generally northwards direction, before adding,

"Rifles, are not. If you intend to follow me, please grab it,"

He gestures at the rifle.

"I can't be trusted with it right now."

Hunter half-mutters hatefully.

[residentsofhollowville]

He obligingly picks it up, disconcerting by the weight of it in his hands. This is dangerous. People can say what they want of guns, but at the end of the day, they are meant to kill.

[dont-tell-lucy]

The rifle is a wood stock Remington Model 700 chambered in .308 Winchester. Neatly carved upon the buttstock is the motto 'live by the hunt die by the hunt'. The rifle is clearly old and well cared for.

Hunter gives Brutus a curt nod and a grunted 'thanks', walking in silence for about half an hour before the two of them come upon a cabin or lodge of some sort. Hunter stops out front, rummaging through his pockets for something.

[martinblackwoodofficial]

Martin is just doing something-probably his job- in the archives, when a ceiling tile gives way and a teen falls out with a yelp. She looks to be 15, and has long reddish-brown hair. Her outfit consists of a pair of skinny jeans, black canvas shoes and a blue t-shirt with "full of spores" and an arrow pointing up on it worn over a grey long sleeve. She is also wearing a medical mask.

- @dont-tell-lucy

*He practically leaps back, terrified*

"AHH- I- Hello? A-are you okay..?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Elizabeth just... lays there, staring at the ceiling accusatorily. When she speaks, her voice is a somewhat dry rasp.

"Traitor."

She glares at the snapped ceiling tile before sitting up and looking at Martin.

"...Hi, I'm okay."

[martinblackwoodofficial]

*He offers a hand*

"Who's a traitor?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Elizabeth takes Martin's hand, pulling herself to her feet.

"The roof tile, that dastardly knave betrayed me in my efforts!"

She half-shouts dramatically, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, general theatre dramatics.

[martinblackwoodofficial]

"I can't believe it- You're a bit young to be here."

*He pauses for a moment. Why are there so many children in the archives*

[dont-tell-lucy]

"Uhhhhhh"

Elizabeth's eyes dart around in a mockery of panic as she takes a step towards a nearby shelf.

"Well, you see, uh, you'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE."

She dramatically declares, running at the shelf, kicking off of it to get more height, and disappearing back into the roof through the hole she made, clearly holding back a laugh.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

Amelie senses, maybe more feels, someone break into their domain. The intruder is of the same cloth, based on how well they seem to be traveling through Wonderland.

- @dont-tell-lucy

Huh? Since when are people still able to get into their place without their permission?? That's odd,it should investigate it in case it's someone with ill intentions.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Amelie finds Azaleia crouched next to a sleeping Mell, gently poking them as if to try and stir them awake. She freezes upon spotting Amelie, a growl bubbling up into his throat.

It's difficult to discern how Azaleia looks, as their form seems to shift and sway. They seem to be roughly 5'9", and appear to either be wearing an asylum gown or a victorian era suit. She has long hair and limbs, but anything more is indicernable.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

"...Ah. That's why."

Fae stares at Azaleia for a few moments before raising up its arms. Mell did mention a spiral friend in passing is that them?

"I won't hurt either of you,do not worry."

Fae keeps its voice softer than usual as to not startle them. Cat slowly approaches him, sitting down on the ground next to Mell.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia seems on edge, scooping Mell up and taking a few steps away from Amelie.

"Who are you."

She spits out, probably a bit more harshly than intended. He seems ready to bolt, eyes darting around.

Mell is still asleep, seeming quite comfortable in their arms.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

"Hey, please calm down. My name is Amelie and I am Mell's friend. I was the one who gave them shelter from... Whatever it is that they're running away."

They say, watching him.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia squints at Amelie, hesitating for a moment.

"Thank you."

She says hesitantly, before slinking off into the forest with the sleeping Mell.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

"... Please wait, I would like to talk."

Fae says hesitantly, unsure if their wish will be honoured.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia seems to not hear Amelie, but there is a very obvious trail of Forget-Me-Not pettles that lead to an old Victorian style door left ajar.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

They sigh, following the trail. Hopefully the spiralling won't mind. It has to find out more,maybe there's a way to help Mell,if not them both.

"Mell's friend¿? May we talk¿?"

It calls out hesitantly.

[dont-tell-lucy]

The door slowly creaks open fully, revealing what looks to be a Victorian-era mental asylum and a continuation of the petal trail.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

They wince at the sight of the asylum, immediately connecting the dots. Poor kid...

Yet still,fae continues on,a bit unsure in their steps.

[dont-tell-lucy]

The trail goes on for an unnoteable amount of time, past closed windowed doors to identical rooms. A hospital bed and a dresser with a blurred out photo and a vase of forget-me-nots.

Eventually, Amelie reaches what appears to be an office. Azaleia sits in the armchair behind the desk, seeming to be waiting for Amelie. Her form is a bit clearer, more clearly the victorian era suit that suits them quite well.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

They blink slightly, somewhat surprised.

"...Hi?¿"

Fae says awkwardly, unsure how to proceed.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia sits up straighter, puffing her chest to look a bit bigger.

"Hello. Please, take a seat that isn't mine."

He gestures to the various chairs around the room.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

They sit down on the nearest chair,a confused look on faer face. Why is he acting like that?

"Can we talk now¿?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia nods, crossing their arms.

"So, how did Mell end up in your domain? How long have they been there?"

His pose is a bit... tense, like they're ready to spring to its feet at any moment.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

"Mell approached me while I was out and about, asking me for help. They were running away from something, I think?¿ I offered them to stay in my domain for a bit. I think it was atleast a month ago?¿ I don't quite remember. Is something wrong with that?¿"

They tilt faer head at Azaleia, looking confused.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia nods along with what Amelie says, watching them intently. He quirks one of their eyebrows, looking a bit surprised.

"An entire month?"

It half-asks accusitorally, resting his chin on their hands.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

Amelie sighs heavily, brushing off their curls from its shoulders.

"I was busy with being dissolved into a pile of fractal petals and then dealing with the realisation of newfound immortality and basically godhood."

They deadpan, staring straight at Azaleia.

"Plus, I trust Mell and their ability to get out of their own. I made sure to show them the way out. Why are you so insistent on seeing me as an enemy¿? It's clear we both are on the same side, wanting to keep our friend safe."

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia rolls his eyes slightly, gesturing nondescriptly.

"I don't think my distrust here is quite surprising, I doubt you wouldn't be the same in my position. And beside, I've long learned not to trust those of your nature."

Her tone is stark, but they have noticeably relaxed, leaning back in its seat and letting her shoulders relax.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

Amelie senses, maybe more feels, someone break into their domain. The intruder is of the same cloth, based on how well they seem to be traveling through Wonderland.

- @dont-tell-lucy

Huh? Since when are people still able to get into their place without their permission?? That's odd,it should investigate it in case it's someone with ill intentions.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Amelie finds Azaleia crouched next to a sleeping Mell, gently poking them as if to try and stir them awake. She freezes upon spotting Amelie, a growl bubbling up into his throat.

It's difficult to discern how Azaleia looks, as their form seems to shift and sway. They seem to be roughly 5'9", and appear to either be wearing an asylum gown or a victorian era suit. She has long hair and limbs, but anything more is indicernable.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

"...Ah. That's why."

Fae stares at Azaleia for a few moments before raising up its arms. Mell did mention a spiral friend in passing is that them?

"I won't hurt either of you,do not worry."

Fae keeps its voice softer than usual as to not startle them. Cat slowly approaches him, sitting down on the ground next to Mell.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia seems on edge, scooping Mell up and taking a few steps away from Amelie.

"Who are you."

She spits out, probably a bit more harshly than intended. He seems ready to bolt, eyes darting around.

Mell is still asleep, seeming quite comfortable in their arms.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

"Hey, please calm down. My name is Amelie and I am Mell's friend. I was the one who gave them shelter from... Whatever it is that they're running away."

They say, watching him.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia squints at Amelie, hesitating for a moment.

"Thank you."

She says hesitantly, before slinking off into the forest with the sleeping Mell.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

"... Please wait, I would like to talk."

Fae says hesitantly, unsure if their wish will be honoured.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia seems to not hear Amelie, but there is a very obvious trail of Forget-Me-Not pettles that lead to an old Victorian style door left ajar.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

They sigh, following the trail. Hopefully the spiralling won't mind. It has to find out more,maybe there's a way to help Mell,if not them both.

"Mell's friend¿? May we talk¿?"

It calls out hesitantly.

[dont-tell-lucy]

The door slowly creaks open fully, revealing what looks to be a Victorian-era mental asylum and a continuation of the petal trail.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

They wince at the sight of the asylum, immediately connecting the dots. Poor kid...

Yet still,fae continues on,a bit unsure in their steps.

[dont-tell-lucy]

The trail goes on for an unnoteable amount of time, past closed windowed doors to identical rooms. A hospital bed and a dresser with a blurred out photo and a vase of forget-me-nots.

Eventually, Amelie reaches what appears to be an office. Azaleia sits in the armchair behind the desk, seeming to be waiting for Amelie. Her form is a bit clearer, more clearly the victorian era suit that suits them quite well.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

They blink slightly, somewhat surprised.

"...Hi?¿"

Fae says awkwardly, unsure how to proceed.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia sits up straighter, puffing her chest to look a bit bigger.

"Hello. Please, take a seat that isn't mine."

He gestures to the various chairs around the room.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

They sit down on the nearest chair,a confused look on faer face. Why is he acting like that?

"Can we talk now¿?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia nods, crossing their arms.

"So, how did Mell end up in your domain? How long have they been there?"

His pose is a bit... tense, like they're ready to spring to its feet at any moment.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

"Mell approached me while I was out and about, asking me for help. They were running away from something, I think?¿ I offered them to stay in my domain for a bit. I think it was atleast a month ago?¿ I don't quite remember. Is something wrong with that?¿"

They tilt faer head at Azaleia, looking confused.

[dont-tell-lucy]

Azaleia nods along with what Amelie says, watching them intently. He quirks one of their eyebrows, looking a bit surprised.

"An entire month?"

It half-asks accusitorally, resting his chin on their hands.

[martinblackwoodofficial]

Martin is just doing something-probably his job- in the archives, when a ceiling tile gives way and a teen falls out with a yelp. She looks to be 15, and has long reddish-brown hair. Her outfit consists of a pair of skinny jeans, black canvas shoes and a blue t-shirt with "full of spores" and an arrow pointing up on it worn over a grey long sleeve. She is also wearing a medical mask.

- @dont-tell-lucy

*He practically leaps back, terrified*

"AHH- I- Hello? A-are you okay..?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Elizabeth just... lays there, staring at the ceiling accusatorily. When she speaks, her voice is a somewhat dry rasp.

"Traitor."

She glares at the snapped ceiling tile before sitting up and looking at Martin.

"...Hi, I'm okay."

[martinblackwoodofficial]

*He offers a hand*

"Who's a traitor?"

[dont-tell-lucy]

Elizabeth takes Martin's hand, pulling herself to her feet.

"The roof tile, that dastardly knave betrayed me in my efforts!"

She half-shouts dramatically, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, general theatre dramatics.