This World or the Next

[Orkamaat]

Orkamaat only moved when there was a safe distance between them, measuring his steps so that he could easily retrace them. Doors in this city had an annoying habit of moving around, sometimes disappearing altogether. You had to chain them in place with the Other — if you knew how — or you had to resort to dirtier tricks like the one the Priest had used.

Burning eyes left the demon’s head for a moment to scrutinize the marks. Like twin suns, a scorching gaze for anyone who could feel it. The Walker demon was not among them.

“That is an old tongue,” he said at length. They had crossed the ebbing street, avoiding a few gaping mouths that sprouted beneath their feet, trying to drag them down. “And this is an old town.”

Older than both of them combined, which was saying something. It was where all the dreams went, loved, hated, discarded. Didn’t matter. It was the bazaar of curiosities, except most curiosities were dangerous enough to kill you simply for looking at them wrong. And if you died here, you just never left.

The city was thick with people.

“Where did you learn it?”

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Orkamaat"]

The caution displayed by Orky was almost palpable.

He could almost taste it in the air itself, but the walker was too busy with keeping an eye on things to really get a taste for it. A pity, but there were worse fates here than death. Those who weren't careful would experience it many times over, multiple lifetimes.

"One of the old ones once passed through my home once." There were many old ones, but only one sort of the Old Ones actually left this reality after some unfortunate events back in the dawn of time. You couldn't really blame them, really, here? They were all powerful and all-knowing.

Out there?

Something strange happened to their psychology.

"A deal was struck and services were rendered."

This would not surprise anyone. Spirits like him - Walker or not - were infamous for their deals, for their habits in doublespeak and the reflection of truth. Of course, Walker was one of the more... straight-edges when it came to telling the truth, but the general reputation followed him everywhere regardless.

"It's quite senseless to carry souls around just like that, you know, they are so fragile outside of their host. So this." One more gesture of the arm with the bleeding text, before putting it down again and continuing his path towards the center of the 'city'. "Is the very best next thing."

It basically served as a credit rating here. Even if it was much more complicated than that, but you had to dumb it down these days. So nobody would lose focus.

 

[Orkamaat]

A nod, a noncommittal noise. Orkamaat was already smeared in a thin layer over his surroundings, probing and searching for anything and everything. His mind was in a thousand different places at once, which is as weird as it sounds. The Priest himself was used to the experience, of course, so he handled the sensory overload pretty well. Chalk it up to old age.

“Oh, I don’t know,” came his reply a thousand thought-streams later, delivered with a hazy smile. “I find them to be quite cooperative after being subjected to the Nothing That is Balagoth.” The expression stretched his skin entirely too far for comfort, revealing rows of teeth that definitely had no business being there.

But like with everything else, this place grabbed you and made you its own. All things: people, thoughts, concepts deformed in the Dream Bazaar. It slithered its tendrils into your soul and never quite left, even when the visitor managed to cross the threshold back to reality.

Instead of fighting it, Leaper welcomed it with open arms (figuratively speaking,of course). It was never a good idea to oppose the combined onslaught of a realm construed by googols of souls rattling at the chains of their cage. Never.

“Have you come seeking anything in particular, Walker?”

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]