There are things you shouldn't see

RP Date: 2026-10-19

Location: Path to Grimwych

Participants: Lettie, Morgane

Summary

Morgane encounters Lettie on the path to the Lake, and the two discuss the village of Grimwych's apparent consciousness. Lettie shows Morgane a mysterious key given to her by the village, which Morgane tells her is for her to use. The two discuss Lettie's idea that everyone might instead contribute a little blood to summon the portal, rather than one person be sacrificed in their entirety. Morgane seems less convinced and reveals that she has experienced prophetic dreams.

This archive was published after approval by all listed participants.

Roleplay

Morgane, since the arrival of the shadow creature, has stayed inside in the evenings.  During the daytime, she ventures out though, and she is doing that today.  She is wearing a fresh gown in a vermilion silk dupioni fabric.  It has long flared sleeves.  Morgane herself contains many mysteries, among them the source of her fashions.  This is her third Grimwych gown to date.  In this beautiful gown, Morgane is walking slowly along the path, holding in her hand a lantern with a flame flickering.  She appears to be searching for something.

Lettie ran along on all fours, a creature made of shadows that formed the lynx body. Her inner were-creature had undertaken a strange change when she got here, no longer simply the feline form she knew since childhood. Wisps of darkness drift and linger around her as paws brush over the ground over landing on it. Spotting Morgane, she remembers her from the tower with the stew-man, she lets the shift fade away. One step to the step she goes from shadow-lynx to the girl with the fuzzy ears atop her head. Her clothing has stuck, she is in a pair of worn cargo pants full of holes and a black sweater falling off one bruised up shoulder. "Hey, I haven't seen you in long time, glad the lake didn't suck you backwards in," was her simple way, excited to see her, greeting.

Morgane sees Lettie approaching, a shadowy cat, and straightens her posture, her lantern illuminating her still expression as she waits.  Perhaps Morgane simply knows that the shadowy creature is Lettie, and is calmly waiting for her arrival.  Or, perhaps she is not as afraid of shadow creatures as she had pretended to the rest of the village the other night.  It's a complicated life, being Morgane.  Either way, she smiles kindly at the werelynx once she becomes humanoid.  "I knew it was you," she says affectionately.  "I am here.  I have been talking with others about how we may leave this place."  Morgane's gaze drifts past Lettie, toward the Lake.  "I wouldn't go toward the Lake, if I were you.  There are things you shouldn't see."

Lettie reached down to just pull the boot laces tighter, not actually tying them, before she stood back up to her full five feet plus if you added those ears. They twitched as she listened to the woman talk, reassuring her that she knew it was the lynx, who had no idea about any shadow creatures that were not her roaming about. She smiled up to her, "I suppose, I think, I'm still the only lynx one the lake has puked out, so yes, me it is." Mismatched eyes lifted to follow her gaze, looking off towards the water sounds off in the distance. Telling the werelynx not to go do something was like telling her to go do it now, her curiosity was now at full mast. "I was thinking about that whole sakrawfishing you were talking about at the people get together. I don't really get it, if everyone wants to leave why are we going to off one person that won't get to leave. Dontcha think the stones are smarter than that?" Clearly, the young woman had been processing and had an idea there, waiting to be shared when-if asked.

Morgane smiles benevolently toward Lettie after having dispensed this essential advice about not venturing over to the Lake.  She appears none the wiser that she's stoked a little curiosity in the werelynx.  (Though, of course, that had been her intention.  She is a secret faerie, after all, such mischief is her business.)  Lettie brings up the sacrifice, and Morgane cants her head, her brow furrowing as she considers the werelynx's thoughts.  "You are observing that this place has proven itself in certain ways to be quite tenacious," she concedes, with a sigh.  "Walk and talk with me, Mildred," she gestures that perhaps they could walk together toward the village.  "What have you been thinking?  I suppose that was quite a lot for you to hear, at your age.  I'm sorry for such a harsh topic."

Lettie glanced back towards the lake with a glint of mischief in those eyes. She would be wandering back at some point to investigate what she should not be seeing. It was inevitable now that it was brought up. The odd gaze shifts to look up at the woman, the colors of her eyes shifting in and out between blue-cat green-a solid shadowy purple all at random, combinations mixing around with each blink. "I am..I think eighteen? Old enough I suppose, but I came from some crazy lands and have experienced many things younger me should have not seen. So, this here feels like cake walking." The teen turn her smile up, reacting just as if Mildred was her name and not a false given one. She had a trace of fae in her blood, she'd been warned about names and their power, so she was careful on that one thing here. The rest was out the window head first no thoughts into the adventure. "I think this place is smarter than many give it room. Like, it has its own brain sorta, maybe now. Lands don't have brains, but it has thoughts I think, desires. Killing one person won't solve any way back home. I'm fairly sure of that one."

Morgane blinks back surprise as Lettie identifies herself as eighteen. She hadn't expected that. But it makes sense enough that the werelynx's development could have been impacted a bit by the traumatic circumstances of her life. "Cake walking," repeats Morgane softly, the fae curious about the expression but not so much as to ask directly. As they walk, Morgane listens to the rest of what Lettie has to say on the subject of Grimwych itself. The fae's face doesn't betray any type of reaction. It is natural, what Lettie has concluded, that Grimwych has its own hopes and dreams, desires, darkness even. Morgane herself shares that opinion. As for the sacrifice itself, Morgane here shakes her head. "I understand if you would feel that way," she says. Her brow furrows again. "It is complicated, because I completely share your opinion about Grimwych itself." She gestures at her gown. "I believe it is spawning these dresses for me, as absurd as it sounds. And what could be the reason? Why would these gowns exist in a place like this?" She shakes her head again. "It makes me feel foolish to say this, but ... do you ever have dreams, that turn out to be true, Mildred?"

Lettie was indeed a small thing, just a runt of the feline litter so to speak, yet Morgane would be right life had done things to that werelynx that had stolen years to shove her forward in them. That white streak of hair in the midst of her red was a constant reminder. "Yeah, the old ladies at this orphanage would do it for circles for the place. People would pay circles to get to walk around a cake while someone played music on their stringy thing. When they stopped the person standing on the squiggle-wiggles of that Double-eww shape would win a cake! Easy peasy!" She explained as if sensing this was something she could proudly know instead of being the confused one. There was a skip to her step as she walked happily along with Moragne towards town, chatting away. "Life is complicated and full of mysteries, they are fun to try to solve," the lynx agreed there. "I think it would require everyone that wants to leave giving blood to make one big sakrawfishing thing, nothing is free, everyone has to pay. Though if it doesn't work then you just gave your life essence to Grimwych. Which is worse?" She shrugged, sharing her two cents. She paused as Morgane showed off her pretty dress, "I wish it would spawn me some pretty clothes, pants and shirts, no dressed, cannot get into things as easily with all that floofy. I think it is the sender that gave me this?" She pulled out the key with a crumbled note that read 'welcome home, lettie'. "I don't know exactly what it says, but the post cubbies gave it to me." Another shrug, "I know a man once that had dreams and they would come true?like he could see the future. You mean like that? No, those I have never had before."

Morgane is not sure she follows what a cakewalk is, but she understands enough:  whatever it is, it's supposed to be easy.  Follow up questions not necessary.  They are walking and chatting companionably about the issues of the day, which is to say ... human sacrifice.  "Hmm," she says only to Lettie's idea of everyone giving a little blood, instead of one person giving everything.  Morgane clearly has her own views.  She does glance with interest at the key that Lettie shows her.  "Oh!" she exclaims, "Well, I wonder what it opens.  I believe this place gives us what we're supposed to have.  You're supposed to unlock something."  She offers the werelynx an encouraging smile before circling back to the subject of dream prophesies.  "I have, just one so far that I know of," she reveals.  "I dreamed of a shadow creature -- not you -- but a shadow creature hunting.  My dream has come true because I saw one."  A beat.  "I hope you aren't out at night, where there are only shadows.  I'm sorry."  She shakes her head.  "I don't want to frighten you.  But I have also dreamed of the sacrifice.  I keep dreaming of it.  I feel it is a message.  It's impossible not to think this, given how this place behaves."

Lettie wants cake now simply because the brain works that way, think of something and want it when you have no means to it. The lynx seems to be perfectly at ease chatting about the sacrifice top, as if it was the proper normal everyday kind of topic to talk about. "It only makes sense. If people want out a portal they have to pay to use it too, but Miss Emma says I'm not allowed to go volunteering myself for things like that." Another shrug from the girl, as if jumping into trouble was her normal and she was being held back. It was and she was. "I don't know what I would open with a key. I mean normally it is a house I think, people lock those? The places they stay with them curtain things and weird flower paintings. I don't know if I belong in a house, I'm more an outsider than an insider. It doesn't look to fit any of the buildings along the street. Town must know I don't have any skills to run one of them. Can't read, no used being a business person." She rambled a little, there was interest in the key and what it could unlock for her here, if she looked. She listened to the talk on dreams from the woman, her ears twitching away as she thought about what she shared. "I do hunt at night, when the shadows are out. It is the best time to be hunting? I don't think I've seen anything." A pause as she continued, "How does the sakrawfishing happen in your dream?"

Morgane has another "Hmm," to say to the concept of paying to use the portal, as if the stones were simply a toll plaza.  Perhaps they are, and the little werelynx is wiser than her years suggest.  She asks Morgane now about the sacrifice, and Morgane looks to the sky, as if entreating it to guide her in her response.  "There are many flowers, it is very beautiful and ceremonial.  You can feel the power," she says only, and smiles sadly in a way that suggests she doesn't feel up to continuing, not yet.  Morgane and her secrets.  They have arrived at a crossroads, and Morgane's steps halt.  "I will go this way, now," she says, gesturing.  "It was nice seeing you, Mildred.  Please stay in, at night.  You are special."