Reoccurring Nightmare

[Lindsay Curie]

February 22^nd, High Noon

Surely, Agrabah has its share of... oddities. Treasures, curses, genies, magic, it was all out here, in the desert. But.. this?


The broad, dark ship groans as it touches down in the Palace’s courtyard, apparently unconcerned for local flora or fauna. Or, really, that it was parking in the courtyard of a palace in the first place.


Dark paint along the sides seems chipped in some places, but one massive tear splits the left side of the craft. It seems that, while it’s a horrid place to park such a craft, the ship will need repairs.


There’s a soft hiss of air as a side panel lowers, folding outwards into a set of stairs. There’s a moment of silence as the dust settles, before someone— or something — descended into the courtyard. The tall, spindly creature seems to glance around with a single, golden eye, before stepping into the sweltering heat. It seems.. displeased, if it’s mouth— if that’s what that is, on the crest above it’s head — is anything to go by. That doesn’t seed to hinder it, however, as it starts fiddling with some sort of panel.


It seems to be taking readings or notes of some sort.

[Tabs]

He wouldn’t have his health slip again. Tabs had spent the prior month or so being particularly diligent in his… ways. There had been a call for artisans looking for commission work and Tabs assigned them to decorate the city with the Blackblood symbol: lest they forget to whom they owed their livelihood. The four-faced entity paid rather handsomely, earning him some amount of popularity in spite of his unsettling appearance.

The propagandist had been lounging in a hammock some distance from the ground in order to supervise. He’d fallen asleep about an hour into the ordeal. It seemed he was having a restless nap. Legs and claws occasionally twitched or lashed out. Screens, which were typically shut down during rest, would flicker on and off into a rapidly flashing spectrum of color.

It does not understand suffering.

It only understands results. You are Number Four.

A muffled mumbling and shuffling of feet flowed around like the water of a stream around a stone. Someone’s head grazed the bottom of the hammock as they ducked under it, causing it to swing. Tabs awoke with a start, nearly whacking his heads on a tree branch above him. Claws clung to the sides of his bed and his legs reflexively curled over each-other.

The help he hired and was looking over had hurried off further into the maze of city streets once the dark thing made its appearance. Turning his heads to either side of him, he watched the citizens scurry off like roaches touched by a flashlight. Tabs frowned as he looked at the craft. That wasn’t a city-approved docking station. Tourists thought they could do whatever they wanted.

He suspended himself above his hammock and floated down with all the grace of a ribbon on the breeze. Hooves lifted up, positioning themselves, before planting into the ground. He lolloped up to the ship from the side.

“Oorry-ah Ahyah?”

That definitely wasn’t English -- or any Earthly-tongue.

[Lindsay Curie]

The single eye on the tall, slim creature barely shifts from its work, but the bright orbs along its crest seem to twist ever so slightly, glancing over at him. There’s... a response, though it’s not in English, either. And it’s certainly not the same language Tabs had offered. It sounds odd, like an in-between of echolocation and an earthquake. With that, the being seems to stop and wait.

And wait.

... And wait.

After a few moments, the creature makes a noise of annoyance, large eye rolling in displeasure. It finally shifts to look fully at Tabs, expression blasé as a hand comes up to the side of its head. The creature’s face seems to physically stretch to one side, tar-like tendrils pressing a small device from the putty-like core within. Fingers carefully take the machine, fiddle with it slightly, before placing it back in the waiting crater. Tendrils accept the machine, and this time, the sigh that escapes the creature is notably feminine.

“My translator couldn’t parse that. This is a human settlement. This language should suit you fine, yes?”

The creature’s voice is low, dark, and smooth, like a viper in the underbrush. There’s something almost... unsettling? Intimidating? About the way the creature moves. It’s not like sinew and flesh; it’s like watching a fluid roll over itself. Like watching smeared frames of animation, only slower.

Bright eye watches Tabs expectantly, long fingers returning to their work.

[Claude Frollo]

Frollo sat jotting down notes and workarounds on the current situation with the legion in his room. Moreso for his own good than that of the legion. He had been so preoccupied with the learning and relearning medical practices of the new era that he had not had time to actually relax. What a better way to relax than paperwork!

"Well that is about it... Now..." As Frollo was about to put the finishing touches on his work he heard odd noises. Something not ... Normal. Frollo followed the noise to a nearby window where he saw something otherworldly. Ugly and otherworldly but still otherworldly in the least. From where he was, Frollo could see Tabs and he seemed to be talking to someone. But he could not get a good look. He decided to continue his notes by the window to see if he could gleam some useful information from the interaction. Maybe tabs was actually an double agent working for another army? Either way Frollo was sure he found an answer to his situation.

[Chloe]

The ex pit fighter laid out on a plush bench watching the scene with mild distaste. She wasn’t use to making friends with her fellow soldiers she would probably just have to kill them in the end like all the other people she had met in her life in the pits. Between her paws she held a precious bone that he chewed every so often.

“So, What’s your story?” She asks the strange looking alien.

[Lindsay Curie]

Golden eye flicks ever so lightly as long fingers continue to shift and fiddle with the strange tablet. She seems to lift it, allowing it to hover in front of Tabs, before finally addressing the question.

“I am not a Historian, I am an Archivist. Head Archivist, to be exact. It will take more than simply asking to get sensitive information from me. Hm... you’d think humans would have learned to stop trying to hide their follies. But I suppose I have to give them some leeway, regrettably. Having Earth meet its cosmic doom in a hilarious act of idiocy must have been bad for communication. They had over a century to start, but...”

There’s an idle shrug here, and she seems to start up some program. There’s a flicker of light, and the tablet seems to start... scanning Tabs? Thankfully, it only tingles.

“All you need to know is that my name is Lindsay, you will address me as ‘Ma’am’ or ‘Miss Curie’, and that my ship is damaged and needs repair.”

... Wait. What did she say about Earth?

[Tabs]

Tabs shook his heads. Thanks to those memories replaying in his slumber, he’d completely lost track of what era he was in. It was something that one could expect to happen once and a while when you’re over a million years old.

“Ahh--” he gave a half-embarrassed little sound in his human voice, lifting a palm, “I was using the mother tongue. I must have forgotten what millennium it was.”

There was a few moments where the four-faced creature looked mournful. The Producer had all but wiped out his race and his mother tongue along with it. He was furthermore discouraged from speaking his own language by his master. Tabs was tempted to mention this but thought better of it; that might arise too many questions he would find sensitive. He couldn’t be too vulnerable after all. Tabs decided to make small talk with a related, less emotionally charged subject.

“I have no need for translators. I’m fluent in 100 of Earth’s currently most used languages. It was much easier to pick them up when I was travelling the planet, but that was a long--”

Tabs gave a little twitch of surprize once he realized he was interrupted. Eight eyes turned down toward the canine. He didn’t comment on the interruption. Slowly, he folded his arms behind his back in resignation. Shortly after, his eyes returned to the fellow entity. It wasn’t that Tabs disliked animals: he was merely not as interested in them as he was in humanoids.

After the other went on, his scummy smiles shrank to small frowns. His eyes, all eight of them, grew more intense. This wasn’t fake customer service politeness Tabs anymore -- this was you’re trespassing on my territory Tabs.

He felt something. Catching on almost immediately, he pushed back. Rather than fighting with physical combat, Tabs fought with information. Smiles appeared again: less sinister, more cheeky. He was completely within his comfort zone and perfectly confident. As something created from who knows what cosmic horror and casually fluent in 100 Earth tongues (that’s to say nothing of how many alien languages he may have been fluent in), it stood to say Tabs had a vast store of data within him. Tabs resisted the scan, throwing out a massive wave of corrupt responses like some sort of otherworldly DDoS attack. Only a singular word was clearly discernible:

“ No. ”

Denied! Obviously, getting information from Tabs was no walk in the park either...

“Now then,” he said, clicking his nails, “I’m afraid nothing will be done about your ship until you explain yourself: namely, regarding my planet.”

Fake smile customer service Tabs was back.

[Lindsay Curie]

The creature doesn’t move as Tabs speaks, seemingly listening and observing to the other entity. It’s... odd. On one hand, it seems to be a respectful motion, taking to note what he’s saying and doing. On the other, it’s hard to shake the feeling that she’s dissecting absolutely everything he’s doing. Every motion, every expression, every word.

Terrifying, surgical, conquest-focused.

Focus snaps to her strange panel as it starts to throw a fit. Her gaze shifts back to Tabs as plastic smiles spread across his face, and her single eye seems to narrow.

”Now then, I’m afraid nothing will be done about your ship until you explain yourself: namely, regarding my planet.”

There’s a soft noise from the alien, and she shifts to a more.. relaxed position? Long arms cross across her front as she leans against her ship. Gaze settles on the screen-faced creature, and she just seems to... stare. Patient yet judgmental, like a mother watching a toddler throwing a fit over something petty. A speechless ‘are you done yet? Are you proud of the little mess you’re making?’.

After a good, long moment of staring, the creature finally speaks— and it’s loud. The sound of nothing but pure, corrupted data, with no sense of volume control. She seems to chatter something at him, not even slightly off-put by the noise she’s making, before gently taking her tablet and turning back to her ship. It seems his attack on her tablet has also affected her translator, and she’s hardly impressed by the destruction he seems so proud of wreaking.

The creature takes a few steps up the walkway, turning to sit on the stairs of her ship as she fiddles with her tablet. Her body gently forces the translator from the side of her head, allowing it to drop to her side as she mumbles to herself in that strange, echoing tongue again.

[Claude Frollo]

"So... Not a enemy but an archivist... Interesting." Frollo scratched his chin. While he couldn't hear the whole thing from where he sat, he heard enough to warrant some interest. Comsic doom? Punishment from the Lord above no doubt. But mayhap Lady Maleficent called for whatever this thing Tabs was talking to and Tabs was instead an ambassador. It would good to have information on anything that would be helpful for the legion's survival of this future problem.

Perhaps Crow would be interested in this info. Then again knowing that bird brain, he probably already knows. Frollo didn't notice the 3rd individual join the conversation but he wasn't really interested in them. This mysterious archivist. What other jewels of information does this one hold? Frollo chose to listen a little longer. Then report the info to Crow. Just in case.

[Crow]

  Thankfully, and in the interest of convenience, the non-Newtonian alien had been pretty good at making her presence known all by herself. The screech was ungodly, carrying well out of the courtyard and through the halls of the palace. In spite of the nightmares this sound would undoubtedly be causing in the Legionnaires for several weeks, this was perhaps for the best. Crow's opinion of the good judge was at an all time low ever since the disaster at sea, and the less he had to see of him right now, the better.

  "Have we made a new friend, Mister Inquirer?" Crow's tone was amiable as he approached the pair of strange shapes standing out in the courtyard. Well, strange by current comparisons, at least. He gave a polite tip of his hat in Lindsay's direction. Crow couldn't fault Tabs' disposition towards her; he had a grand sense of loyalty, and Crow could only respect that.

  "Please, excuse my companion," He began, gesturing with an outstretched palm, his free hand resting on the head of his cane. "I'm afraid you've landed on... sensitive soil, as it were, and we've all the reason to be wary of unexpected guests."