Fox, Crow and Rabbit

RP Date: 2026-10-05

Location: Decommissioned Underground Reservoir

Participants: Lucian, Marw

Summary

Marw and Lucian share a candlelit dinner in an abandoned underground reservoir, sharing romantic conversation about human sacrifice and whether the wine is poisoned.

This archive was published after approval by all listed participants.

Roleplay

Marw could have picked an abandoned house to reside in; there were plenty. She could have picked a shop and used its supplies to trade. She could have taken a room above the taverne on the theory that there was safety in numbers. She had chosen none of those when it came to selecting her temporary den. Of all places, she had chosen the underground reservoir. It was spacious, had sturdy metal doors, and a grate that she was certain could be made quite secure if she found enough chain and a few decent locks. It was underground, hidden from casual passers-by, and, most importantly, removed from the main hubbub of the village and all the strange residents who had lately found themselves there. The tunnels remained blocked, though perhaps one day curiosity would get the better of her and she would discover what lay beyond them. Not now, though.
Over the last few days, she had been making the place something resembling a home. For now. A rabbit, caught and expertly skinned the day before, turned slowly over the flames, now and again sending a drop of fat hissing into the fire. Marw herself stood at the table, sleeves folded neatly to her elbows, swiftly shaving the skin from a carrot with a knife. Once finished, she placed it with the small pile beside her before reaching for another. Between each one, she took the occasional sip from a wine glass of red. Entirely at home in the quiet. Now and again, the dull thud of the glass being set back down upon the table echoed through the reservoir walls.

Lucian is preceded by the echoing of his guitar, disjointed as it bounces off the cavernous walls before resolving into a gentle ballad with a few minor chords thrown in to reflect the underground setting. He takes the wider path on his approach, to be sure he isn't sneaking up on anyone, and when he gets closer kneels. He takes the guitar case off his back and pops it open, swapping his guitar for the brass candlestick inside. He approaches, bearing the candle like a bouquet. "Doña Raposa, Ms. Marw. I was honored to receive your invitation." He looks around the reservoir, before adding, "Nice acoustics."

Marw pauses upon hearing the distant notes of the guitar, a quiet sigh and a roll of her eyes is the reaction it gets before she looks towards where it comes from, brows lofted as she waits. A small incline of her head in greeting but she did not anticipate that he would soon be kneeling before her presenting her with a candlestick. There isn't many occasions that would cause the woman to falter in reaction, this however seems to be one of them. Her sharp blue gaze moves from Lucian, to the candlestick, then back to Lucian again. Then finally she accepts it. "Thank you." There is a careful politeness about her tone as she assumes that must simply be a custom of his land that she is unfamiliar with. She sets it down upon the table. "Where I am from, one normally brings a bottle of wine." The tip of her knife gestures toward the open bottle of red and the empty glass waiting beside it. "Fortunately, I anticipated your shortcomings. Pour yourself a glass and sit down."<br /> It seems the matter is settled and she returns to the vegetables. It isn't long for them to be chopped with precise neat strokes and dropped into the pan of boiling water. All the while she makes zero attempt to fill the silence. No polite how are you, no discussion about the weather, just the hope that the silence will internally make the musician squirm in discomfort. <br /> When the meal is finally ready, she plates it without ceremony and sets Lucian's portion down before him. Only then does Marw take her own seat, her plate set down as she settles. She does not reach for her cutlery, now, apparently is the time for conversation. "You voted Nay." Her wine glass picked up as she takes a sip. "And I cannot figure out why."

Lucian fusses with his guitar a few moments longer after Marw accepts the candlestick, making sure it is settled in the case just so, making sure the case is latched against the damp air. He smiles to himself as he pours the wine, "If I had wine, I would bring wine. I have candles, so I bring candles, ni modo." He settles into the indicated chair with ease, listening to the cadence of Marw's cookery, chops and stirs. If she doesn't talk, he doesn't either, and just smells the wine and admires the echoes. When the time does come, he smiles and joins her in a sip of wine before answering. "It could be because this is the only wine around I know of, but this is very nice." He sighs quietly and looks past Marw into the darker chamber. "It's like I told the Londoner, Merlincito. Three people can get along. Five maybe, if there's enough resources. Ten people form a government, and the first act of government to decide who it is safe to kill." He sips his wine again, frowning like it's the wine's fault he's soured. "I know you want to go home, but this path is the path of blood."

Marw regards him over the rim of her glass for a moment before she shakes her head. "No. That is not why. I do not know where home is." No particular emotion attaches to that admission. Attention flits to the guitar case he had set aside "Mr Corvo, I find it quite peculiar that a man who carried what appears to be half an armoury in a guitar case when we first met, should be so delicate at the prospect of a little blood." She leant back in her chair, tapping her nail thoughtfully against her glass. "So I don't care what you told the Londoner. I am asking why <i>you</i> believe it." A shrug of her shoulders as she quite openly admits, "Because if I am going to argue you out of your opinion, I need to know what built the foundations of your viewpoint." Attention then shifted toward his untouched plate, a brow lofted in near offence. "And eat." Firm, dry and soon partnered with a look. "I caught the rabbit. I pulled the vegetables from the earth. The least you can do is be polite enough to appreciate the effort."

Lucian raises an eyebrow slowly and glances at his guitar case with a deep longing. If his weapons worked he could solve this whole thing in an afternoon. To himself he mutters a vocal reminder, "Ni modo," before digging into the rabbit while making eye contact with Marw, so she can make sure he's enjoying it. He dabs at his lips with his crow-embroidered handkerchief before answering, "Your efforts do not disappoint, Doña Raposa." He smiles brightly, then his lips droop, and finally he answers her question while looking at his wine. "Because it would not be <i>my</i> blood. A dozen people, individually scared, confused, searching for answers. But put them together and they stop being individuals. They become a juaría...como se dice...a mob." He looks up to Marw now, genuinely inquisitive, "Do you know what a mob does, Ms. Foxx? They are like coyotes, wild dogs. They find weakness and they tear at it. They will not come for me, I have teeth too. They will not come for the caballero in his suit of armor. Will they go for the fairy girl, or will they notice her axes? Will they go for the little cat with her forks? Will they come for the cunning fox, before it can gain control of them? I do not know."

Marw listens silently, no scoff or immediate rebuttal, genuinely considering his angle. She thoughtfully twirls her glass stem between her fingers before asking, "What happens if they do nothing?" Blue eyes snap back to him. "Will people continue to come through that lake? The resources are already limited. Eventually food becomes scarce. Then what? People starve? They turn on one another anyway? Cannibalism?" Another shrug and then she says "We are trapped, Mr Corvo. No way out and no better than being hens in a coop." A leisurely sip of her wine is had as if the conversation was on what colour patio slabs they should have when they do a garden renovation. "All it takes is for one fox to come through that lake, then the hens will be slaughtered." <br /> Marw lowers her glass and nods toward his own. "I put a rather heavy dose of sleeping pills into that bottle after I poured my own." She picks up her fork and nudges a piece of rabbit from her plate that she herself had not touched. "And I basted the rabbit in a sedative." <br /> She says it with such calmness. "If you begin running now, I doubt you will make it as far as the stairs." Another small push of the rabbit across the plate. "Once you are unconscious, I could take you to the stones. Then see if the stones are truly the way out of here." Then the fork is set down, the clatter bouncing off the stone walls. Then she reaches for her glass again, her gaze settling on him, a flicker of amusement in her eyes as she takes an unhurried sip. Perhaps he might panic; perhaps he might notice his eyelids were <i>not</i> growing heavy, his limbs unencumbered and his thoughts perfectly clear. Because, of course, she had not done those things; the wine and food were completely and utterly untainted. One corner of her purple painted lips curve into a smile "Caged crows are not safe either, Mr Corvo. They were meant to be free."

Lucian is beginning to shrug along with the notion that they may face worse problems if they don't make the sacrifice, when Marw's words snap him back into the present moment. Is he starting to flag and slow because she's telling the truth, or because this is the first decent meal he's had, or just because she put the idea in his head? With a suddenly bright smile, he eats another large bite of rabbit and sips his wine, dabbing his lips again, "Well, it truly brings out the flavor of the rabbit, whatever you used. Is magic really that simple, a little blood in the right place, portal open? You don't need specific words or special stars?" He shrugs and tries some more of the carrots. "Well, if it can get you free of this mess, that's fine. Seems shortsighted to me though. Fox against the jauría, without her eyes in the sky?" He makes his best play and stifles a yawn.

Marw watches him take another bite, the amusement in her expression becoming considerably less guarded when he elects to continue eating rather than bolt for the stairs. Only then does she pick up her own fork again. "Salt." That is apparently the entirety of her secret recipe. She takes a bite herself and, once swallowed, adds, "Nothing more exotic than that. Certainly nowhere near enough to kill you. It would be unpalatable." A few more mouthfuls are taken before she admits, "I thought you might run. Or perhaps pluck a weapon from somewhere or attempt to sing me to death." Her amusement fades somewhat at his question, mostly because it had an irritatingly good point to it. "As for the magic, I have no idea." She pauses, wondering over it. After all magic, as far as she understood it, could be irritatingly particular?specific words, bizarre pronunciations, ireplicable gestures. If someone in the village already knew the magic they needed, surely they would have spoken up? An annoyed sigh before she utters "Well, as they say, if at first you don't succeed, try, try again." She resumes eating before her attention settles fully upon him once more, a brow lifting. "If we are going to work effectively together, Mr Corvo, eventually I am going to require you to become considerably more sympathetic to my point of view." There is almost a question in it. Almost. "And a word of warning, the only fable I know concerning a fox and a crow ends with the bird losing something..." she then lifts her mostly drunk glass as if to offer a toast "...and the fox gaining it."

Lucian breathes more easily and laughs, truly digging in to the food now, shaking his head. "Ahhh, salt has killed many men over time. What would I gain from bewitching you with song or battling you with blade, if the poison was already inside me? That was done, ni modo, move on to what is next." He listens to the musings of his new partner in... crime? Is there crime without laws?... glancing only sporadically at his guitar case. At the end he shakes his head, "Aesop. Greek fellow. Never been to Greece, but it is...an easy place. They just have grapes and olives, <i>bop bop bop</i>, you take and eat them. My people have many tales of crow and raven, fox, and coyote. They have more to do in the deserts, I think." He sets down his utensils and looks back up to Marw. "If we find out, for sure, that this is how the portal works, then that is one thing. But right now it is hope and rumor and guesses. That is a very dangerous thing to bounce around a scared group of people."

Marw pauses at the mention of the unfamiliar place, searching her memory for anything that might make it familiar and finding nothing. "Never heard of it. I am beginning to suspect we are not merely from different countries, but from different worlds." When Lucian sets down his utensils, Marw's attention returns to him. That, at least, is a universal signal that dinner has reached its natural conclusion. She does not need to be fluent in his language to understand that. "I will send you my proposal regarding how the sacrifice should be selected within the next few days." Her wine glass is lifted for the last of its contents. "I imagine you will recognise my handwriting or stationery, so I won't attempt to disguise it to spare myself your bleeding heart judgement." The empty glass is set down before she turns slightly toward him in her chair. One elbow rests along the back of it as she studies him. "You should come for dinner again next week. You may also stay the night then, if you wish." She remains completely composed as she adds the condition. "But you must leave before I wake." She has the decency to allow a sliver of silence after that. Just enough time for the words to settle, but not enough for him to accept or decline the offer. Her head tilts toward the exit, in case he has somehow forgotten the way. "Good night, Mr Corvo. Travel back to the village safely."<br /> ooc: Wanna do a wrap post?

Lucian nods quietly, adding, "So far only Rory is from a world with cities named like mine. But in his..." He waves his hand in the air in little circles, "They do magic spells with wizards and wands. Fairy stories." Realizing he's likely in a fairy story now, what with the lake and the stones, he dabs his lips with the handkerchief, then once again more slowly after hearing Marw's contingent offer. "Well. If you attempted to disguise your handwriting, you would not be the woman I am growing to understand you to be." He smiles and shifts down to his guitar case, opening it just in case his instrument went missing or became endangered somehow during dinner, then closing and latching it again. "I would be honored to join you for dinner next week, and would be honored to give you back your sanctuary before the dawn. Until then, Doña Raposa." He doesn't get far out of sight before he starts whistling the same tune as before, but in a major key, until the echoes double back on themselves and turn it into mush.