Whisperwind Combs

[JFought]

Swapped...? ...mind dungeon?!

W-wait... find me... get out...! Fast!

Isidora's voice didn't sound like anything, but the speed of it, the urgency in the wording... She seemed almost panicked.

The top of the staircase opened perpendicularly into another narrow street. It was lined with brick buildings, packed so tightly together they effectively formed a hallway. None of them had doors, only shuttered windows too high to reach. Was this also an alley?

The street itself was entirely empty. Not a single soul, nor any sign that anyone had ever lived here. The path down Laura’s left ended quickly at a wooden stockade fence blocking the way, while to the right was pure nothing, the street stretching endlessly into a grey horizon. Wherever this was supposed to represent, the dungeon had clearly taken a few liberties…

The vantage hadn't elucidated much, unfortunately. And the new right path looked anything but 'fast.'

...see?

It was phrased like a question.

 

[Jackie Cat]

So... Isidora was taking this about as well as Laura had expected. She bit her lip, wondering if everyone in the party was going through this – and about to need a course of therapy.

As for what she could see...

"Alleyway," she replied, with a passing frustrated wish to have instant messaging again. Or at least for Betel's network to actually work down here. "Palisade."

Simple answers might make it through more reliably, right?

Laura put her back to one wall and slumped slightly. A barrier like that... Lack of freedom, metaphorically? Or a literal confinement, in a place without freedom of movement?

"Trapped," she added, flatly.

Unless the endless grey street contained something other than inaccessible houses. Or... she could double back.

"Tunnel."

She swallowed, and ran her paw back amd forth across the bricks. Had the dungeon rendered them in fine detail? Were these bricks made by pokémon paws? Had Isidora—

What if she shouldn't do this? Intrude. Figure out Isidora, solve her like she was already doing on autopilot.

What if she had to.

"Isidora... Tell me what to do," she whispered.

 

[JFought]

There was a pause, as if Isidora needed a moment to consider her words.

Running her paw across the bricks didn't reveal any secrets, but as far as distractions went, it was not as if the dungeon had much else to offer. They definitely felt like stone: smooth except for slight chips, stains, and weathered indentations. All arranged orderly so that her paw glided mostly uninterrupted. Though closer examination would cause it to seem somewhat uncanny. While the imperfections gave off the impression of an unmaintained back alley wall, the impression was almost too perfect, as if it lacked a logic beyond aesthetic. It was like a memory of what weathered brick should look like, removed from any sort of physical context.

The whisper returned.

What... dungeon want? Try that.

Ignore anything... I'll guide you.

 

[Jackie Cat]

Dream-brick. About what Laura expected, given the door-less houses and forbidding vibe of everything here. This was Isidora's city as she thought of it. Emotionally speaking.

She glanced in both directions again, considering her options. An alleyway to nowhere, and a wall she may or not be able to get past. Somehow, she doubted she could just vault it, or smash it down. It didn't matter what she was capable of on Forlas, only what Isidora had been capable of at this time in her life, whatever time that was. Which, if Laura's intuition meant anything, was probably deep in her past. Hopefully deep in her past. The bad times, before she studied history and learned magic...

She was guessing, guessing, when she could be walking through this place. This memory. Laura shook her head, turned and headed back the way she came. She had to be right about the general picture, surely – the doors wouldn't be missing if this was a memory of success and opportunity.

'Ignore everything', the whisper had sounded like. She's ashamed, said her gut, and Laura ran a paw over her face, resenting herself for the analysis. Even if it was right. Which she knew she was. Fuck.

Whatever. It wasn't like she could just quit. The one route that held promise, that felt like anything, was that tunnel. Even though the thought brought a measure of dread...

"I think the tunnel is the only path," she said, to update Isidora, as she headed towards it. "I'm going into the darkness."

 

[JFought]

A dark tunnel…?

It wasn't much of a tunnel. Several steps in and she had already reached the turn, her cat-eyesight still keeping her surroundings perfectly visible, if somewhat dreary. Turning the corner, Laura would find herself in a short corridor, face-to-face with a scarlet door thrice her height and with a wooden panel nailed where a door handle should be, suggesting it was meant to be pushed. Perhaps this was the true way forward. What other option did she really have?

...wait…

...wait…! Be careful…! Keep... ...don't… ...DARE…!​

Its redness beckoned to her in the darkness.

 

[Jackie Cat]

Laura stood in front of the door, staring at it, some part of her wondering whether it was just going to open on its own and drag her in. Whether it was safe to look away...

'Don't you dare' came through just fine through the whispers. Feelings of guilt and defensiveness roiled equally in her stomach.

"Okay," she said. "Okay. I've stopped."

She rubbed her temples, and groaned. The dungeon was gonna force this, obviously. She could try an escape orb, maybe. Sorry everyone, the psyche-dungeon was too uncomfortable, had to back out and scrub the mission...

"There's nowhere else," she said, flatly. Maybe that had been true for Isidora, too...

She put her back against the tunnel wall and stared sidelong at the red door.

"There's nowhere else to go."

 

[JFought]

Wait...

There was another pause. Perhaps Isidora had realised how she sounded.

Isidora couldn't see the door, and it was a stretch to imagine she could guess it was there based on nothing. But she was clearly worried about something. Whether it was a secret, a danger, some horrible memory... Laura could only imagine what was happening on the other end of their mental link.

Keep talking. Do... say. Don't stop... anything.

...careful... please...

The door waited patiently for a decision.

 

[Jackie Cat]

Laura narrowed her eyes at the door, her heartrate picking up. Whatever was on the other side of that thing was obviously gonna suck. But hey – this was a nightmare, right? It couldn't hurt her. The point was to witness, and think, and feel. The dungeon wanted something from her, but it wasn't trying to kill her...

"Red door," she said, feeling a growl in her throat. "Gotta open it."

She swallowed, and went to put her paw on the handle.

"I'll be careful."

There was something else. Something else she should say.

"It's gonna be okay," she told Isidora. One way or another, she'd make sure that was true. "It'll be okay."

She turned the handle, and opened the door...

 

[JFought]

No response.

Immediately upon entering, Laura would be struck by the rose-tinged scent of a long-burnt incense. The door pushed open into a well-polished wooden floor, reflecting the warm colour of candlelight from a small chandelier. Its glow draped the newly entered room in a sort of reddish-orange dim, mitigated by dark grey walls so that it hung lightly over the various clothed tables and cushioned chairs taking up space between her and the counter on the other side, manned by a Weavile polishing a glass. Judging from the setup of the stools at the counter and the booths starting near entrance and creeping along the right wall, it must have been a bar of some sort, maybe closer to a lounge. To the counter’s left was a suspicious back door, and other than the bartender, the place was empty.

Closer attention would show the whole room was awash with detail. From the pre-prepared glasses on the tables, to the small bookshelf in a corner containing just three conspicuous books, to the posters on the walls written in the local language, to the individual bottles of wine displayed behind the counter, to the red velvet carpeting the booth seats, and the way the red tablecloths weren’t quite centred... This wasn't some abstract metaphor; this was a place. Even the bricks in the walls were well-defined.

The Weavile at the counter looked up from their glass. Isidora? Except, no, his ear feathers were too long. He must have been standing on something to rise over the marble top like that, as he couldn't have been that much taller than it. “Welcome. Make yourself at home,” he droned, before getting right back to polishing, as if on autopilot.

Were it that easy. For as classy as it looked, it was obvious this was no simple bar lounge, and not just because it was a dungeon illusion. Maybe it was the rose scent, maybe all the red would tip Laura off, but either way, something about this place seemed… dishonest.

 

[Jackie Cat]

Laura pressed the fabric of her scarf between her digital pads as she looked around. This was somewhere deeply familiar to Isidora – a home, a place of work, or both. There was information here.

Incense, chandelier, velvet, cushions, wine... all accessed from a tunnel, located below the alleyways of dense, urban housing. Luxury in low places. Sensual opulence hidden from public view. Something shameful. Meaning... what, exactly? It brought to mind prohibition-era speakeasies, organised crime, gambling, occultism... and bordellos. She bit her lip. Best not to jump to conclusions.

“Welcome. Make yourself at home.”

Act casual.

She tried to think like a journalist, not a teenage dropout. Don't gawp. Take notes; ask questions. There were no patrons, only her and the bartender. She was meant to be here.

"Thank you," she said, thinking quickly. "How's business?"

Hopefully Weavile would give an answer that filled her in somehow. Otherwise – the posters, the books, could she tell what they were about? She moved over towards the bar, wondering if the phantasm would stop her if she just went past him... What was so alluring about that door, anyway...? Her mind drank in details like water down a parched throat. She needed to know. What services were bought here? Was Isidora a client or staff? Which should she play...?

 

[JFought]

"Thank you. How's business?"

The bartender looked around the room, then back at her. "Poor."

The look behind the Weavile's eyes was lifeless and uncanny. Hollow. His movements, too, were slow, dreamlike, and undetailed. He was perhaps the only true reminder this wasn't currently a real place. Just something conjured up by the dungeon for a still unknown purpose.

Ignoring him to look at any poster for too long would reveal an unsettling fact: she couldn't read them. The logographic script was written there plain as day, but where Betel's auto-translation should have worked to derive meaning, it failed. A trick of the dungeon? Or were they just plain illegible? It was impossible to say.

Some posters did have pictures. Many were too small to make out from a distance, likely accompaniments to advertisements. The larger ones were artist interpretations of pokémon. And if she looked at one of them closely enough, she would realise that the numbers were perfectly recognisable to her, no translation even necessary. They were written above the pictures, large and bold. Dollar amounts. These were bounties.

As for the books, the spines were blank. She'd have to get closer to see what was inside.

The bartender spoke to recapture her attention. "Did you come here to gawk? Or do you need something?" He held out a claw, seemingly to gesture at one of the higher stools so they could meet over the counter. "You seem lost."

 

[Jackie Cat]

Laura relaxed a little. Dreamlike – Weavile was just as unreal as the rest. More than the rest, even.

"Not at all," she replied, evenly, as she studied the posters.

At first her mind jumped to trafficking, then she recognised the stylings of a wanted poster. She'd seen plenty of those on Forlas by now. Had Isidora worked as a bounty hunter? For a moment, it seemed somehow tame. But on Forlas, bounties were posted publicly, for outlaws. These could be contracts for assassination...

"I'm looking for work," she said, casual as anything. Lying was hard – acting not so much, apparently. "Considering my options."

She approached the bar, selecting a book from the shelf on her way there.

"What can you tell me about your clientele?"

Was Isidora still listening? If instructions came through, she'd follow them, but she already had a sinking feeling there was no easy route through whatever this was...

 

[JFought]

"Work." The bartender seemed to size her up with some disbelief. "Do you know where you are?"

He placed his glass and rag down on the counter, and that disbelief quickly turned to suspicion. "No one would hire a meowth to serve alcohol. You know that, right?"

He was treating this place like a normal bar. It looked like Laura made a bad move somewhere...

But then he relaxed.

"I'm not tryin' to offend by that. Our regular guests tend to look not too different from you, as it happens." He closed his eyes in a short moment of thought. "Our bar prides itself on diversity and openness. As long as you have a need, we're happy to serve in whatever small way we can. And so the 'mon we tend to get are usually the desperate type." He then leaned slightly on the counter. "Though some aren't. Some others just prefer the atmosphere. And they're always our biggest spenders."

A small smile played at the Weavile's lips. "If you really want to work here, I could put a word in for an interview. Could even do it right now. It's a slow day, after all."

Oddly generous of him, with how suspicious he was just a few seconds ago... But then again, he wasn't real.

Was Isidora still listening?

It was impossible to tell. It had been all silence since entering here, and that didn't seem to be changing.

 

[Jackie Cat]

Laura nodded, keeping her expression still. A little flustered, perhaps, but...

That was okay. She was being tricked, right? This was a trap. Desperate types? The abrupt swing in tone?

"I'd appreciate that," she replied, her voice steadier than her heartrate. "Anything I should know, first? My, uh, friend who pointed me this way didn't tell me much."

No-one would hire a meowth, huh? Why not? At least she knew now she wasn't literally playing Isidora, although whether she was in Isidora's role or not was still unclear. She swallowed, and turned her attention to the book. Was there anything enlightening in there...?

 

[JFought]

"Just be honest," the bartender replied simply. "We can't provide if you won't."

With that, the Weavile stepped off whatever he had been standing on. His crest still visible behind the counter, he made his way to the back door and left Laura behind.

The cover of the book was blank. With the Weavile gone for now, it looked like Laura had a short moment to herself. The dungeon was now proceeding automatically, so she was free to do and look around as she wished.

 

[Jackie Cat]

Be honest, huh? Well that wasn't an option. She was bullshitting in the dark, here.

She watched Weavile go, then opened the book, and took a look inside...

 

[JFought]

Inside the book was a message.

It was gibberish. If Laura recognised the script, then she would also know that the consonants weren’t in the right places to form coherent words, in any language. If she flipped the page, she would find it identical. And the next. And the next. It was as if the book existed specifically to communicate nothing.

Staring at the message for too long would cause Laura to feel emptier.

"It's okay. I found somethin' to replace it."

The back door suddenly opened by itself, and out from it drifted a Mismagius. Ringing the base of her hat was a simple and dull silver crown, while her neck was adorned with a variety of jeweled necklaces: pearls and blood-red diamonds strung on platinum strings. Her eyes were just as hollow as the Weavile's, but something seemed different about her. Something hard to place when they had just met.

"Hello there, meowth. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." She floated downward while her 'dress' billowed in a mock curtsy. "I was told you seek employment. Do you wish to speak at a booth here, or in private?"

 

[Jackie Cat]

Fear welled up in her, and she shut the book with the abruptness of closing a browser tab with a jumpscare.

That voice, that thought... Isidora? That was Isidora; that was something she'd said or thought in her past – it had to be. Something to replace what? (Isidora's world had magic, right? What kind of magic – magic that this dungeon could replicate?)

Laura blinked, reassessing that hollowness in the phantasm's eyes. She'd put it down to the uncanny, unreal nature of their existence here, echoing another world. What if it wasn't? What if it the truth was worse than that?

"A booth is fine," she said, a little fast. "What may I call you?"

She slipped from her barstool, to walk to the nearest one, hyper-aware of herself after the lurching dread of that book. Think, think, what was that? She swallowed, wondering if Isidora had even been literate when she'd walked into this place. Without the guidance the Sneasel had promised, Laura was flying blind – maybe Isidora had been, too...

 

[JFought]

"A booth is fine," she said, a little fast. "What may I call you?" She slipped from her barstool, to walk to the nearest one.

The Mismagius wore a perpetual smile, but at this display, it seemed to grow wider, as if in amusement. "Proactive, are we? Very well." There was no sign she noticed the mishap with the book.

Quickly, she floated ahead of Laura to gesture to the side of the booth that gave view of the front door, then took the opposite side. "You may call me 'The Witch,' if that would suit you," she introduced as she 'sat' down in her seat by floating low enough for her dress to brush against the velvet. "It is, for all intents and purposes, my name. And yours?"

It was around then that she'd notice it. The Witch's movements and mannerisms were noticeably more detailed than the Weavile's, like a proper emulation, based on memory. In another world, this was a person.

"I heard you were recommended here by a friend. Care to elaborate?"

 

[Jackie Cat]

"My name is Laura, ma'am Witch."

Laura took the seat indicated, and suppressed her anxiety by asking herself questions. Like an investigator. Was 'the witch' the Mismagius' moniker for her species, or her profession? Should she include the definite article when addressing her? Would her own name spur some objection? Who was the Witch to Isidora? Was she an ally, or an antagonist?

Antagonist, obviously.

Attack her.

"She didn't tell me much," said Laura, carefully, threading the needle between truth and plausibility. "We didn't get a chance to speak at length when it came up, so I don't know any details past where to find this place, but..."

Intuition spurred her tongue.

"...I'm not sure I have anywhere else to go."