diatu | [Adventure] A Question of Faith

[Adventure] A Question of Faith

Who: Eleven, Isabel, and Mr. Fell
Where: First District
When: September ssometime
What: When life gives you giant eyeballs
Warnings: n/a for now!

As had become their custom, Eleven met Isabel outside the temple after his duties were finished, and they made idle chatter as they walked back toward the Academy to turn in for the night.

It was a pleasant way to wind down the evening- or it should have been.

Nothing prepared him for an enormous eye to insert itself into the air beside him. Eleven started, then leaped back with a shout, pulling Isabel with him just as it began speaking.

"A Sundered who is faithful, is -- oh, crap, it's you."

Just as suddenly as it arrived, it vanished, leaving behind a wide, black portal suspended in the night air. Eleven's heart raced as he stared into the nothingness, half-expecting the great eye would return or else the portal itself would close up.

"What kind of thing," he said numbly, brain scrambling to catch up with reality. Belatedly, his grip on Isabel's wrist loosened. "Did you see..?"

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It was at about that moment that Isabel realized that Chaos...hadn't come along. She frowned a little at that, mostly because he was a regular presence at her ankles, usually...

But he was also clever and had a familiar's intelligence. As good as he was, and as able a combat partner (because only really dumb people argued with a familiar the size of a bobcat), it might even be better that he'd stayed behind.

"Chaos isn't here. He's either gone to guard the portal from anyone else entering, or he's gone off to try to get Hendrik's attention--he knows who that is, so..."

Isabel made a face, then, at Eleven's words. Mr. Fell had a point, and a good one, but-- "Why would it being you make it want to stop talking, though? It's weird, El." And the thing about Sundered with faith kept niggling at her. Though she was pretty sure Eleven wasn't the only Sundered who had faith in anything like a god, he probably was the--well, if not strongest, the most dedicated. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

"It may have been hoping for a different person, perhaps not an acolyte. If it does turn out to be demonic, demons certainly don't tend to like anything holy." Most demons anyway.

He couldn't offer anything regarding Hendrik because he hardly knew the fellow, but it was certainly a relief the familiar was looking for help.

Aziraphale pulled out a small piece of chalk and, after a short internal debate against defacing property, drew a small arrow on the wall to indicate the path back. The mark was small, washable and he justified it by assuring himself it might be necessary.

"What did it say or do before it vanished?"

Eleven shrugged, stepping forward and proffering the light to get a good glimpse of their surroundings. There wasn't much to see except walls.

"It said something about Sundered and faith. I know I was the first Sundered to join a temple.."

But then it recognized him. Eleven frowned, mulling that over for a moment before their surroundings shifted and suddenly there was a dead end, with passages where there weren't before.

His stomach flipped.

"..It doesn't want to be followed, after all."

"A Sundered who is faithful, is--oh crap, it's you." Isabel's memory wasn't always perfect, but sometimes (and especially in times like this) it decided to be helpful.

That or maybe a certain something (someone?) who had been asleep was waking up, but really, that was neither here nor there, and not helpful now, so Isabel didn't mention it.

When the walls changed, Isabel didn't panic, but she frowned. This...was not good, not at all.

"Guess we've got a decision to make--do we try to follow it, or do we try to get out?"

"Thank you," he said, glad that someone could provide anything more accurate that something something Sundered something faith, not that he was going to critique Eleven on his review right now. Maybe for another time. "Shame it never completed the thought aloud. I should have liked to know how that finished and if it has any indication of what we're finding ourselves in now."

Speaking of which. Aziraphale turned back and forth in his spot, comically perplexed by the change in environment and aborting a half-begun question that ended up being little more than a "AH?" sound. Did anyone else see that? Did the walls move or did they change locations? It all looked far too similar.

"Not even sure if we're following it... I have no idea where It went. For all we know, it could have created another portal and hopped right out of this realm as soon as we entered." And even if they had a fresh trail to follow, they also had no idea how deep this rabbit hole went! This could go on for days! Or longer! Aziraphale might have nothing to worry about there, but eventually the children would get tired and hungry and then they would still have to turn and travel back. This was all a very bad idea.

And yet. He was curious.

"But," he added, unsure how he felt about the whole thing, "you know what they say. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And we may save some other poor Sundered from dealing with a...surprise visitation."

Eleven's mouth thinned, mind working through a few phrasings for prayers he might try for guidance. But where were they trying to go?

"We'll take the first exit we find," he decided. Whether that was back to the First District or somewhere else would decide their course. Though he somewhat hoped that they would find the mysterious eye and discover what it may have wanted.

Not liking the look of shadowed turns and corners, he drew the Sword of Light from its sheathe. He pointed it in the direction he intended to take and began to walk.

"..Do you have your bracelet, Isabel?"

"Never leave home without it," she replied. "And you're welcome, Mr. Fell. I kinda thought that might be important."

"But yeah, it's right here," she said, lifting her wrist to show Eleven the silver bangle. "Got an idea?"

She hadn't thought of any herself, just yet, but she was following along a few feet behind. After all, she didn't need any extraneous weapons to do damage...

What good in this situation was a piece of jewelry? Oh, now that sword was something very useful, on the other hand--aside, naturally, from the God-given properties of being a sharp metal cutty thing in a potentially dangerous place...even if the light did sort of give away the weapon's location, but then such was the case generally with holy weapons (as he suspected Eleven's to be). Best to strike fear into the hearts of sinners and evil ones with its mere presence.

Creme stirred, coiling itself around the hilt of the blade-less sword like a notification going off in his pocket. Yes, thank you, not now, he thought. There was nothing he would like to set fire to. Yet.

"I'm sorry, but what does your bracelet do?" he asked, turning a bit in their lineup so that he could see the bangle in question. It wasn't one of those awful Smart Watches Crowley tried to show him once, was it?

Eleven glanced at her wrist, nodding.

"It's enchanted with a strong barrier spell," he answered, glancing back to assure both of them were close before carefully taking a turn. "..Last I knew, anyway."

Biting his lip, he threw the ball of light down the corridor, watched it flash by walls, then vanish. Darkness prevailed for a moment, but another spoken word in Osmarius and the rune on his palm flared to life again.

He stepped carefully. "Mr. Fell, could you use your chalk on the floor? If the walls can't be relied on.."

Isabel shook her head at that. "That's only one of the things it can do. All I need to do is think about it--it produces its own music, now." El probably remembered her singing to activate it, when they had first met.

"I can use it to project force in ways that I want it--that's actually its name, the Musical Force Projector. I usually use it defensively, but there's no reason I can't call a weapon from it."

Save that Isabel's preferred weapons are her fists and feet, normally.

"That's clever." He missed those days. To just be able to will something into being with a thought. Not that he needed a shield...most days.

"Oh, of course. Let me just--" kneeling, he awkwardly fumbled a marking onto the floor, indicating the way they came from and the direction they had headed from here. He hadn't expected anyone to notice (not that he had been especially subtle), so it somewhat embarrassed him to be caught making graffiti, even if it was essentially breadcrumbs for their return. "Though there's always the possibility that the floors may not be reliable either.^[1] But better to have faith than not, I think."

It was dark around the edges of Eleven's light. Aziraphale took a deep breath he did not need and stepped protectively closer behind the children.

"I feel like we should make a game of it, if we're going to be here a while, don't you?" he attempted brightly to lighten the mood, putting on a cheery, tight smile in the hope of outshining the spooky darkness around them. Sneaking was not his strong suit--at least if his six millennia history was anything to go by. "The green bottle song? I think the American's have a variant that goes, what is it? 99 bottles of--no, wait, that wouldn't be appropriate."

[1] - Which would most assuredly not be fair, but your mother is a fraggin' aardvark. Not that Aziraphale would ever insinuate such.

Eleven glanced back in surprise, then smiled a bit, assured they would be able to defend themselves and Mr. Fell if necessary.

"They might not be," he agreed. "But we can try to keep track of where we've been."

A touch more confident, he led them down the corridor- but not without a slightly mystified look to Isabel, wondering if she knew what Mr. Fell might be on about, because he certainly didn't.

"Mr. Fell, I know what beer is!" Isabel laughed. "I don't know why it wouldn't be appropriate if it was going to cheer you up. Unless you sing poorly, then I'd ask you kindly to spare my ears." But she still grinned at the man and gave him a wink.

She was pretty sure that El knew what beer was, too. Not that she'd ever seen him drink, but his society wasn't as high strung about drinking as the one on Earth, she knew. So why wouldn't he?

Isabel just shrugged and grinned at El. Hopefully her commentary cleared that up.

"Just because you know what beer is doesn't mean I should encourage the drinking of it with silly songs. I'm sure I can come up with another one that has far more age-appropriate subject matter."

Actually, this bantering was more comforting anyway. He was more or less used to having someone to squabble over petty things with when he got nervous about other things. He smiled back at her wink.

"Surely Eleven, your culture must have repetitive, time-wasting travel songs, too. Humans have always tried to entertain themselves on long journeys with ridiculous songs, silly games, other diversions." He knelt to make another marking on the floor, thought briefly of Yon Yonson and Michael Finnegan and decided not to inflict that Hell upon the children, lest they abandon him in here out of annoyance (he would not fault them at all). "Nowadays we have radios, and vinyl records--and compact discs (though that doesn't always offer quite the diversity in artists that one might expect). And you, Isabel? What sort of music does your world offer?"

He smiled a bit to himself. Maybe that's what he should do once this was over- ask Hendrik to go drinking with him as a sort of apology for leaving him.

"So it's a travelling song?" he asked, deciding that the conversation was pleasantly distracting from the maze around them. He'd grown bolder in his steps, but beginning to lose track of where they might even be trying to go. He could likely Intimate an exit, but which would they be lead to? Maybe pray for knowledge of how many there were, the directions they were in, then divine guidance to them.

His mind churned over potential compositions to those prayers.

"Sylvando would usually play music. He'd sing sometimes-" A smile cracked his concentration a moment as fond memories tugged. "Tried to get us to dance and join in. Can't say that I memorized any of them, though."

"My bracelet could play music, but if there's things in here, uh." Isabel glanced around. "I'd rather not set up what's basically a big sign saying 'here we are!', you know?"

As for Mr. Fell's question, Isabel laughed. "Well, my dad's from Earth, so I know a bit about Earth music. At least contemporary American rock." Or really a lot of rock in general. She was fond of it, and it wasn't as if her dad hadn't tried to give her a good cut section of music. Her mother had helped, too...

"Sounds like our worlds are pretty similar, even if they might not be the same Earth. Grandpa says there are multiverses, after all."

"Ah, a bard," he nodded along, listening about this Sylvando person. "But yes, it's basically like that; a song one sings when one needs a distraction."

Isabel had a point about their noise level, but Aziraphale couldn't resist talking. Call it a nervous habit.

"Multiverses sounds like a science-fiction thing." Which wasn't to say it wasn't true, just that it was all a bit too perplexing and ineffable, and seemed like a long rant Crowley would get on after a few too many bottles of wine in the bookshop. Or something that Shadwell or Miss Device would believe in. But it was enough of a hand-waving explanation for the oddness they had experienced here, he supposed. "It's a shame there aren't more of us explicitly from Earth to compare notes. I should like to know some of our differences.
Tell me, did your world have a Rock-And-Roll band known as Queen? My friend's car was immensely fond of them."

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[Adventure] A Question of Faith

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