High above Arcana, the Archetypes, living patterns that shape reality itself, struggle to trace their vision upon the chaos below them. The Archetypes recruit perceptive citizens of the world below to amplify their hidden patterns - and the more who magnify an Archtype's pattern, the more the world reflects their grand design.
The more time they spend with Gwen, the stranger she seems.
Senna’s been talking to her in the corner for an hour now, while Lucian fixes up some proper food in the decript old tavern kitchen, and every sentence gets more and more confusing. Eventually, she landed on “what are you?” and somehow creepy old doll that gained sentience was the only answer that evening that made any sense.
“So you like fighting.”
“Of course! Oh, she and I used to play fight under the table all the time! Of course, I couldn’t move on my own back then, but I do still love a good battle.”
“My maker” gives her no information as to who “she” could really be, but from what it sounds like, she reminds her distinctly of Isolde. But said queen was a seamstress before, not a doll maker, so that doesn’t seem quite right. Porcelain and fabric are very different things, after all.
But it would explain the scissors.
“So why do you want to fight Viego?”
“Because he must be stopped! The Black Mist is harming so many, and it’s taken over the Hallowed Mist! She would never stand for this.”
“Okay, but how did you know about Viego before we did?”
“Because I watched everything. I watched her die, and saw him grieving, and when I awoke I knew he must be the cuplrit of this awful mist.”
“But- who’s your maker?”
“Isolde!”
“Isolde was a seamstress, not a dollmaker.”
“Well, I imagine dresses and dolls aren’t that dissimilar.”
“Do you know how porcelain works?”
“Oh!” She snaps. “I see what the problem is! You thought I was a porcelain doll.”
“...What other kind of doll would you be?”
“Cloth!”
“They make those?”
“She did. She made me, after all.”
“...That...does make sense, actually. Now I get it.”
Lucian heads over, along with Vayne, who has leans against the wall as she munches on a sandwich. “Couldn’t get that one to eat anything close to magic, so we get extra.”
In front of them is what looks to be roasted pheasant with vegetables. The presentation isn’t anything, but as Senna takes a bite, she makes a sound of approval. “I do have to thank Thresh for one thing: teachin’ you how to cook.”
“You could’ve done it, if you were there.”
“Maybe. I’m not so good at it, though.”
“Is pheasant magic...?” Asks Gwen, looking at her plate with a confused look on her face.
“Demacian pheasant isn’t. But that one was Ionian, which means it’s enchanted by the land.”
Lucian grumbles some, then digs into her plate. Gwen, however, simply sits there politely.
“Not eating?”
She shrugs, and tries. Slices a piece off on her fork, puts in her mouth, chews, swallows, and goes, “That tastes...strange.”
“Strange?” Senna bats him on the arm, getting a pair of rolled eyes in response. “What do you normally eat?”
“Either wraiths or fabric.”
Vayne freezes mid-bite, turns to look at her with concern. Senna blinks several times. Lucian pauses, then continues eating. “Well, s’pose it makes sense. You’re not human.”’
“Fabric.” She places her sandwich on the table, a stunned look on her face. “And wraiths?”
“Oh, absolutely! Though I don’t prefer fabric if I don’t need to. I’d much rather make something with it!” In response, her needles come up to dance around her, pointing this out by making stitching motions in the air.
“You eat fabric.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not made of fabric.”
“I was, before I could move.”
“But now you’re not.”
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“So why do you eat fabric?”
“Well, I’m still a doll, you know!”
“That doesn’t answer anything- and, wait, hold on. More important. You can eat wraiths?”
“Oh, absolutely! They taste like...Well, I’m not sure what else to compare it to!”
“...You think I can eat a wraith?” Asks Senna, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of meat.
“After I made you this?”
“I’m just curious.”
“I could go get you one!”
“...”
“Senna.”
“I’m just curious.”
At that point the door opens, and the Rookie swings themselves onto a chair nearby, clearly exhausted. “Somethin’ happen out there?”
“A lot of yelling...”
Without supplication Gwen hands off her plate to the sentinel, who happily starts digging in, and gives Lucian his proper praise for the meal. Vayne picks her sandwich up again, suspiciously eyeing the seamstress, and continues eating with a concerned look on her face.
Gwen, hungry despite herself, does say she’s going to get a wraith. “Get me one.”
“Senna.”
“I wanna know what they taste like.”
So she does, pinning two down and carefully crushing the bones into a thin powder that falls from them when you cut it open like weighted beads in a plushie. Now there’s nothing but shadow meat and the organs, which she decides to remove for Senna. Their texture is a bit like fabric- not food, she knows, but her food.
The rest of it is good, though, so she leaves that as she heads back, the emptied wraith dangling off a needle as she munches on hers.
“You weren’t kidding,” is the first thing Vayne comments when she comes back inside. Senna’s eyeing the wraith on her needle with a suspicious level of interest, and Lucian looks...she’s not sure what that’s supposed to mean.
“They all leaky?”
Gwen tilts her head. “Leaky?”
Senna wipes at her chin, which Gwen replicates. On her hand is the blood from the organs.
“Only if you leave the organs in! I took them out for you.”
“I could’ve tried them with.”
“I doubt you’d like them. They taste like fabric, a bit.”
“Why are we talking about fabric again?”
Lucian holds his head in his hands as Senna takes the offered corpse, and she takes a small bite. Vayne looks like she’s about ready to shoot both of them, but is only kept in check by the growing threat outside and her husband’s presence. Gwen looks at her with curiosity.
Senna finally speaks, having swallowed. “That tastes like...Lucian, you try it.”
“Why me?”
“You’ve tried more foods than me. I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Senna, that is a wraith.”
“And? A little won’t kill you.”
“How do you know?”
“Trust me. I’d know if it was dangerous.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You don’t have-”
“Did you forget? A little bit of her is still in me.”
“That’s not enough to tell you whether it’s dangerous to eat a wraith- which it is.”
“Just a little! I’ll eat the rest of it.”
“You- why would you finish it?”
“I mean...it’s not bad.”
Their bickering continues for a while, until finally, Lucian resolves to take a small bite. He chews, swallows, as Gwen gets to the head of hers.
“...it’s like tea?”
“What?”
“There’s this thick tea they make in Ionia with weird little balls ins the bottom. It’s like that.”
“Boba,” remarks the Rookie. “I’ve had it once.”
“Yeah. Tastes like that. Not like food, that’s for sure.”
Senna takes another bite. “’S not bad. And thanks for removing the eyes, by the way- no way I could’ve eaten this while it was starin’ at me.”
“Not a problem!” Sings Gwen, as the pops the whole head- eyes and all- into her mouth.
“I’m either killing or leaving all of you once this is over,” comments Vayne.
