Sure. He’d been apparently transported into an alternate dimension and yes, that was still not something he was entirely able to actually wrap his head around entirely yet, but. His anxiety had caused him to spiral out of control as a result of much less frightening situations, so. He should be proud of that fact, technically!
Admittedly, this was definitely all thanks to Pathfinder and his efforts to care for Mirage in this unfamiliar world, as well as the other glimpses of familiar faces he’d caught during his time here.
It meant he wasn’t stranded here alone, at the very least.
It had got him wondering, however, that if multiple people from his own world – timeline, dimension, what -have-you – had ended up here, what that might mean.
Like perhaps when they declared his brothers MIA, could it mean that they have…ended up here?
The Archimedes Ward is the last of the four districts he had left to try and explore, and he’d taken today as an opportunity to wander. The calendar Path kept on his apartment wall had allowed Elliott to work out it had been approximately a week and a half since he arrived here, and thus, it was high time he actually took some time to traverse it.
It’s unlikely he’ll spot Vahid, or Ramin, or Suki here – or anywhere in this city but – it wasn’t like he had exactly anything else going on, he might as well dedicate his time spent in this realm trying.
It boggles his mind each time just how damn different each part of this city was, but the Archimedes Ward was more far removed from the universe he grew up in than any of the others.
He had at least been able to detect some small reminders of home from the others’, this was….like nothing he’d ever seen before.
He is proved wrong in an unfortunately, disturbingly way, when he catches the scent of…what could only be described as a particular brand of seasoned Leviathan meat, that was a renowned speciality of Solace. Yeah, anything seemed to be possible when it came to here, but he thinks he might have at the very least spotted a bloody Leviathan were there any actually here. Was this place so fucked up that it actually preyed upon his own memories?
Elliott finds himself wandering the street for some time, torn between a warm comfort of familiarity, as well as one of deep-rooted loss. He does not end up buying or even sampling anything, but rather, makes his way back towards one of the more peaceful areas of the district. There’s a body of water, at the very least, where people seem to be taking some joy leaping in, swimming and hollering in delight. Elliott slumps into a nearby bench, emotionally exhausted but taking some small comfort in watching other peoples’ glee in this instance.
Others were seated upon the surrounding benches, flicking stray breadcrumbs for the inhabiting birds to feed upon. Elliott watches idly, now feeling a little reluctant he didn’t pick up any food from the market after all – it would be a nice activity to join in on – when a large, black raven lands amongst them and caws loudly.
No one else pays much attention, but Elliott jolts upwards in surprise. It – it might just be coincidence but Octavio and Path had both said Bloodhound was here and – well, Elliott had seen Arthur in the Ring as well around the HQ to –
He was by no measures a bird-watcher, but he sees Arthur tilt his head in his direction.
Well. Wasn’t like he was renowned here. Sure, he felt some small measure of embarrassment that people might be watching and judging him for talking to a bird, but in all honesty, he’d seen people do much more bizarre acts during their time here.
“Uh. Arthur. Right? Yeah? Arthur? Y-y–you’re Bloodhound’s —” he stops and swallows, suddenly self-conscious as to how to refer the bird with regard to their relationship with the hunter. Bloodhound kept mostly to themself, and whilst polite, they were not a person Elliott claimed to know well by any length or measure.
“…friend!” He finishes, lamely, wincing as he does so. But nothing for it to press on. “Blood – Bloodhound – they around? Nearby? I mean. If they’re. If you’re actually Arthur and I haven’t just been talking to a random raven for the last five minutes. I –”
He scratches the nape of his neck and glances around. He’s drawing looks alright, and his cheeks are burning but–
Well. Fuck. With any luck, he wouldn’t see any of these people bar those from his universe ever again, so, what did it matter?
Did nothing to reassure the anxiety of looking foolish in public hammering behind his chest, but what was done was done.
bloodhound was similarly lucky to have located pathfinder within the day of their arrival; the MRVN had been of great assistance in abating the hunter’s worries. they are under no illusions about the purpose of the island. it is an experiment. all of it, from the land itself to the compartmentalized residences, is carefully engineered.
judging from their captors’ tendency toward the apocalyptic, it is either progressing very poorly or working as intended. bloodhound is not sure which outcome would begrieve them more.
all they know is that they want to return home. idleness does not suit them, and they miss the arena so.
bloodhound’s nature forces them into isolation more often than they’d like, hours upon hours spent between the lonely branches of the mistwood and the comfort of their room. meeting new people is not on their list of priorities.
when they do decide to walk amidst the city folk, the quieter areas of archimedes and cotes receive preferential treatment. arthur has taken a liking to archimedes in particular. the ward is home to a public outdoor recreational area, and a massive pool. bloodhound doesn’t care much for swimming, but their corvid companion was quick to realize that the people liked to feed the birds.
he disembarks from the hunter’s shoulder as they pass the park entrance, swooping down to the benches to catch crumbs. bloodhound tries to scold him, but he’s already gone.
they are able to navigate slowly by the sound of arthur’s begging caws, but those are brought to a stop by a familiar voice. they’re in plainclothes, and as such know they won’t be recognized unless they speak. mirage’s effort to hold a conversation with arthur threatens to draw a laugh out of them.
after getting their fill of amusement, they approach, crouch down next to mirage, and coax arthur back onto their shoulder.
❝ þú ert gráðugur, ❞ they say, tapping under the raven’s beak with one finger. ❝ i’ve already fed you plenty today. ❞
as they draw back up, they tuck loose hairs behind their ear, and turn to address elliott.
❝ yes. i am, in fact, around. hello, mirage. ❞