kingdoms_of_auradon | (no subject)

Open/locked?: Open!
Who: Vexen/Even/Whatever nickname you give him
What: A new arrival!
Warnings: Copious amounts of sass and sarcasm? Nothing serious to start with, will tag individual threads if the Traumatic Backstory comes up.
It's a lovely, frost-trimmed morning in Auradon, blades of glass glittering in the sunlight, and...a dismayed looking scientist staring at a castle that very definitely isn't the one he lives in? There's no shock or confusion on his face as he takes in his decidedly unfamiliar surroundings, but just a tired sense of annoyance-tinged dread.

"Oh, Darkness take me, not again..."

Darkness take him home, he means. Whatever this is, he doesn't have time for it! An aura of inky purple-black rises from the ground to envelop him...and deposit him a mere ten feet away. That's obviously not where he meant for it to take him, as he scowls and tries again, this time stepping out of a darkened portal on a nearby wall. Increasingly frustrated, he digs a crown-themed smartphone from a pocket and checks the screen, before shooting it a glare that would be able to peel paint even if his eyes weren't an uncannily vibrant, acidic-looking green.

"What..." It comes out a tired sounding mutter, as he pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "Is the point of a phone that functions across worlds if the signal cannot reach those worlds I must actually call for assistance from?"

Alright, worlds so utterly cut off from the rest that even the Darkness can't reach out from it are most certainly outside the scope of what the designers had in mind, but the fact remains, his phone is useless. So he supposes...all that's left is to try to learn what he can about where he is. And that means recon.

While he's not making active effort to go unseen, he doubts he'll have any reason to need to operate in secrecy, he still isn't quite in the habit of simply approaching people and asking them to explain things to him. He still has some pride left, after all, and it demands that he at least make some notes of his own, first. So, if someone didn't catch him complaining to himself, they might instead spot the scientist simply observing, with an expression of curiosity mixed with concern. It doesn't, after all, take him look to note that the area is oddly deserted, even for what must be the fringes of winter.

He's going to try not to think about what that reminds him of. If the corridors can't reach this place, after all, then neither can they.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When she managed to get a glimpse of his notes, she'd find them...about as legible as a prescription written by an overworked ER doctor with five seconds to write out the script. Worse, the shorthand wasn't any sort of standard, but rather a personal one developed for his unique field of study and thus known to very few. In short, it was a mess.

She wouldn't have long to look, however, as he drew himself up to his full (rather impressive) height and held the book up so he could look over his own impenetrable notes.

"Thus far, I have learned that this world appears to either be cut off from my ordinary method of travel, or somehow dampening my ability to traverse the Darkness that ordinarily spreads between all worlds. Tests seem to favor the latter, as my ability to travel even within this world is severely hampered, limited to approximately ten feet and incapable of bypassing solid objects. I cannot yet rule out the former, however, as anything I might be able to lure here if the world is indeed connected to the Darkness is of a nature that I would not risk unleashing if I am unable to contain or destroy it.

"The thorns on the Isle are a concerning matter, as well, but my theories on that front are entirely untested. I have only seen illusory facsimiles of them, and thus am disinclined to commit to any suspicions regarding them."

Ugh. Of course the first potential source of actual help is written in chicken-scratch. Just her luck.

And now he was babbling about things she didn't understand. Travsering Darkness? Is that what he called his teleportation spell? She tuned in and out, as it wasn't helpful, but that last bit did grab her attention.

"I used to be on the isle. The thorns didn't seem to do much of anything, long as you kept your distance. You think they could be a bigger deal than they already are?"