Broken Souls (Peregrine x Levy)

[Peregrine]

Quite unnoticed to the man curled up in a pile of blankets on a long, L-shaped couch, a slightly pulsating blue orb had appeared in the middle of the living room, bobbing slightly in the air about five feet above the floor. It lingered there for a couple of moments, before blinking in something that could almost be described as irritation. It began to float closer, before finally coming to a halt directly over the sleeping man's eyes.

Still mostly asleep, Karl Fillius mumbled slightly in complaint at the blue light that was suddenly shining on his eyelids. He waved one limp hand, trying to shoo away whatever was bothering him, and rolled over, snuggling back down into the blankets. The orb, clearly still dissatisfied, floated over the mound of blankets, settling once more above Karl's face. It took a couple of moments, With a groan of frustration, Karl sat up.

Apparently satisfied with its efforts in rousing Karl from his hideaway, the orb floated away, returning to bob where it had first appeared in the room.

Rubbing bleary eyes Karl stared at the thing in front of him, and it took him more than a couple of moments to recognize it as a communication orb. Back before he had retreated to this house, he used to give one of these orbs to the people he traveled with as a farewell gift, so that they would be able to get ahold of him in an emergency. But Karl hadn't given out one of those orbs since the 1950's.

Finally, after spitting out a few curse words in various languages to the empty air, Karl stood up and marched his way over to the blinking orb. A moment later, his hand lashed out and clasped tightly around the glowing blue sphere.

It seemed as though the ball of light dissolved under his grip, transforming into a shower of blue sparks that flowed towards the ground, before they abruptly consolidated into a swirling blue net only a couple of feet in front of Karl. Peering out from their depths was a rather startled looking, brown-haired man.

Karl took one brief moment to study the face on the other side of the blue veil, before his already narrow eyes lidded further in building rage, and a scowl spread across his face. "Who the fuck are you, and, ba dem peache khewredh shatan, you better tell me how you got that goddam orb."

The middle aged man on the other side took an unconscious step backwards, as though afraid that the furious, scruffy man he had just disturbed would be able to reach right through the blue veil that shimmered between them and latch a clawed hand around his throat. Karl's impatience only grew as the man desperately swallowed a couple times, before finally managing to speak. "I… I'm Michael King. I'm Donald King's grandson."

Karl's anger was abruptly replaced by confusion. "Duck?"

He was almost instantly overwhelmed by a wave of nostalgia, picturing the fifteen year old British boy he'd found desperately clasping a gun in a field in France during World War II, bloodsoaked and surrounded by the corpses of his fellow soldiers. The terrified boy had ended up shooting Karl three times before fainting from panic and shock. Karl had relieved the kid of his gun and dragged him back to a nearby ruined barn where Karl had set up something resembling shelter.

It had taken Karl two days to convince the lad that he wasn't the devil, but when Karl had tried to take him back to a British camp the boy had refused, followed Karl all across war-torn France, and ultimately followed him all the way back to America. If it hadn't been for Denise, a beautiful Boston lass who had stolen Donald's heart, Duck might have stuck around with Karl to this day.

All rage gone in the face of such memories, Karl glanced behind Michael, as though hoping to see the figure of the twenty-three year old man Karl remembered standing behind him. "How… how is he? Donald."

Michael's eyes dropped. "He died two years ago."

"I… I see." Karl's eyes momentarily dropped closed, but that was all the time for mourning he allowed himself. It wasn't as though this was the first, or even the hundredth, time Karl had outlived someone he once called a friend.

When he opened his eyes again, he glanced at Michael with a sigh. "What do you want, mouse?"

Michael's mouth dropped open in surprise, and he seemed momentarily stunned. "But… what? How did you…?"

"Know that's what Duck would have called you?" Karl filled in, a trace of wry humor momentarily breaking through his despondency. "You forget, I traveled with your father for six years. I was the one who originally joked that, since he was Donald, he had to name his son Michael. I never expected him to take that suggestion seriously, not even after a generation."

It seemed that, for the first time, Michael was finally struck with the realization that the man he was seeing, who looked no older than his mid-twenties, was actually the man he had heard of in tales of his childhood, an immortal who had roamed the battlefields of WWII, stealing or destroying the artifacts the Nazis had brought to bear against their enemies, and eventually the ones the Allies dug up to turn against the Germans. The man he had long thought nothing more than a product his grandfather's traumatized mind had conjured up to protect him from the horrors of the war.

The two men stood in silence for several long moments, before Karl finally grew impatient. "What do you want, Michael?"

Michael didn't seem to hear him, only staring blankly at Karl for a few more moments before he finally muttered "Holy shit, you're real."

The words might have been spoken faintly, but with the magic of the blue orb it was more than possible for Karl to make out every faint sound. He heard them, and his temper once more flared up. "Real?! Morologus es! Why did you use that samjer iginebodnen orb if you didn't think I was fucking real?"

"I… umm…"

Karl didn't give him a chance to finish speaking. "Níl tada níos measa na bód ina seasamh. Well, I hope you are happy. As I'm sure your grandfather told you, that orb is single use, and you won't be getting another one. I hope your bèn dàn curiosity is satisfied."

And with no further warning, Karl's hand flashed out, cutting through the blue mist and causing the image in front of him to immediately disperse. The few blue glimmers that remained drifted through the air for a moment, before vanishing when they ran into the nearby wall or the floor.

For a moment Karl stared at the few traces of blue, almost sorrowful, before he spat out another couple of curses and returned to the couch.

"Goddamn waste of time," he muttered, right before he rolled back up into the blankets.

Swear Word Translations

"ba dem peache khewredh shatan" - 'By the devil's twisted tail' (Farsi + google translate)
"Morologus es" - 'You're talking like a moron!' (Latin)
"samjer iginebodnen" - 'Thrice cursed' (Georgian + google translate)
"Níl tada níos measa na bód ina seasamh" - 'There's nothing worse than a standing Prick' - used to insult men, the more casually it is said the more insulting it is. (Gaelic)
"bèn dàn" - 'stupid egg' aka moron/moronic (Chinese)

 

[Levy]

"Hey, uh, we're in the right place, right?"

Before the mildly bemused girl, stood, in all its magnificence and glory, the dwellings of Karl Filius, the Fabled Immortal and all powerful evil overlord of the supernatural world. Or, well, that was what she was promised. But this house, if she could even call it that, looked like it belonged to an old hermit couple still living in the eighteenth century. It was some kind of a cross between a bungalow and a cottage, and the grass looked like it hadn't been cut for a millennium. She turned to find some reassurance from her mentor.

"Right?" Hana asked once more. She was met with a slight breeze, and no mentor in sight. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Mr. Bangkok! Wh- where did you.. uh, okay. That's fine. It's fine. Everything's fine. I just don't have a mentor anymore. That's perfectly alright. I'll just.. hm, okay, is there a doorbell, or...?" Hana looked about the general vicinity of the entrance. "A knocker. Old fashioned, huh?" She muttered, giving the bronze loop a good knock.

A few moments passed. Hana heard no rustling.

Another knock.

And another.

And another.

At this point, Hana was growing a bit impatient. "I'm sure he won't mind if I..." Her hand slowly tightened around the doorknob. "Though it's probably locked anyw- oh my goodness, it's open." Hana quickly shut the door. Was this trespassing? Had she just committed her first act of felony? What this the start of a life lived in crime?

She shook the thoughts out of her head as she backed up from the entrance, pacing in circles. God, she really fell ass backwards into this one, hadn't she? Just two weeks ago, she'd been sitting in her little studio apartment, laboring over a piece for a particularly sweet client, when her door was promptly blown off its hinges. Initially, Hana was more concerned with the state of her front door, but she quickly learned she had more pressing matters to deal with.

It was an oddity. There, on her doorstep, stood a slender woman with perfectly manicured fingertips and beautiful porcelain skin. Why, she looked absolutely harmless. She spoke like it, too, with a honeycomb voice that almost gave Hana a cavity. Her entire presence was enough to make the girl forget entirely about her broken door, and the fact that she was speaking straight out a fantasy novel.

It had taken her a while to process properly process the woman's words, but by the time it had finally registered, the woman was gone without a trace. So, an archaic artifact... magically bound to me, and now I have six months to, erm, 'complete' it and have it 'unbound'. If I fail to do so within the set time limit, my 'existence terminates'. Hana considered this.

What in the fresh hell does that mean?

The young woman had been at her wits end, trying to figure out if she had been dreaming or nightmaring or hallucinating, and even considered consulting a psychiatric institution on the subject. And maybe a repair company, while she was at it. She completely forgot about the broken door. Before she could even get to her phone, though, a new, slightly older man approached her doorstep. He had the same air of confidence, the same honeyed voice and similar clothing too, now that she noticed.

Perhaps the paint fumes were finally getting to her.

First, of course, he had to reassure the young girl that she was not mad, and that she needn't check herself into the nearest hospital. Curving her disbelief had been the most time consuming, but he'd executed the task with swiftness. He had, over the course of the few weeks, explained whatever the woman did not, and told her that there was a way to successfully rid herself of the artifact, which she'd discovered was some ancient Rubik's cube, within the set time limit and be done with it. And they would be glad to help her out, seeing as she knew nothing of the world she had just entered. She simply needed to locate a Karl Filius, and have him agree to help her, as he was the only known man who could perform such complex rituals. She was warned, though, by her newfound mentor, that Karl was not a man of good intentions, and that she would absolutely have to be on her toes around him. He was a liar, and he would lie to gain her trust, but she musnt be swayed with kind words, he had said.

The same man that was seemingly missing from Karl Filius' front porch. He did say he would only accompany her to his doorstep, as she suddenly remembered. Hana's mind returned to the present. She gave his front door a determined glance, before marching up to it and turning the handle.

"I- I'm coming in!" Hana declared her arrival, though a bit shakier than she would've preferred.

 

[Peregrine]

The first notice Karl had that someone had barged into his sanctuary did not come from the source he would have expected. Under normal circumstances, if someone managed to force their way past the wards that surrounded the house and get in the front door, a magical alarm would be triggered. The house would immediately rearrange itself, moving the most important targets to the depths of the house, and creating a path for Karl to reach the intruder with as much haste as possible.

Of course, he'd never actually experienced this outside of a drill, but he was absolutely certain that was what should have happened if anyone entered his house nowadays. The few people the house might have let in without alerting Karl to their arrival, like Duck, were likely all dead by now.

But, none of this happened. What finally alerted Karl to the arrival of someone in his secret, protected abode, was the sound of a bell, rather like the noise that might be made when someone entered an old fashioned store, and the swinging of the door hit the little noisemaker to alert the shopkeeper to the presence of a new arrival.

Karl had placed that bell there long enough ago, and it had been so long since it had been used, that he had almost forgotten it existed. He'd installed it back when there had been more people who knew about this place, people he cared about and trusted, and he'd wanted to have some notification of their return. It hadn't taken much effort for him to use an old Chinese scroll to enchant an old brass bell so that he'd be able to hear it ring anywhere in the house.

How long had it been since that bell had rung?

For one moment after the noise disturbed him from his nap, Karl thought he was back in the past he blinked slightly, and considered simply rolling over and letting whoever it was simply find their own way in. A moment later, and his memory caught up to the present.

Karl sat up so fast he nearly caused himself to fall over in the other direction, before he hopped to his feet, struggling to extract himself from both blanket and pillows. "Go ndéana an diabhal dréimire de cnámh do dhroma ag piocadh úll i ngairdín Ifrinn" he cursed, hopping around on one foot as he struggled to extract the other from the couch. "What gaandu set off that bell?" He froze for a moment, turning to stare fixedly at a nearby light.

"This better not have been you," he warned the empty room, eyes severe. There was, unsurprisingly, no reaction. "Get me to the front door, now!"

On one side of the room, the wall shivered slightly, before sliding open about the width of the door. Karl, finally freed from his entrapments, was about to dart out of the room when he paused, and grabbed what looked like a wooden kitchen spoon off the shelf from in front of a row of books.

With one final curse, he left the room, racing towards the front door.

Swear Word Translations

"Go ndéana an diabhal dréimire de cnámh do dhroma ag piocadh úll i ngairdín Ifrinn" - "May the devil make a ladder of your back bones while picking apples in the garden of hell!" (Irish)

"Gaandu" - Asshole (Hindi)

 

[Levy]

As she entered, Hana surveyed the room with squinted eyes, as there wasn't much of a light source, aside from the outside. She ruffled through all the pockets on her person before locating her smartphone, and switching on the flashlight. She had to wipe her palms on the sides of her pants to hold it properly. If she wasn't careful, a goblin might pop out from behind the shadows, or something like that.

Hana peered around the area. She felt like someone simply transformed a cave into a livable space. There were stones lining the walls and planks of wood overhead, complete with a paved floor. Hana had questions. One of them, being whether she should simply turn around and head home like nothing happened. No, no, she had a job to do. And she really didn't want her lifespan terminated.

So, the young girl trudged forth. She looked back one or twice, and she saw that the front door was shut. She couldn't remember if she closed it or not. Oh well. She had more pressing matters to address, such as a stairwell that looked like it led to the next continent. God, she would have to walk through that? She felt like whoever this Karl character was, he was more than evil. He was sadistic. It was simply cruel.

By the time she had reached the end, she felt like she'd traversed the length of the Sahara desert. Still, despite all her grievances, she had made it, and was faced with a rather showy door. It looked like the entrance to an eighteenth century mansion. Her legs still felt like hell, though, so she sat down to rest with her back at the door. She supposed she hadn't realized the weakness of the door, because after a few moments of rest, it swung open and landed her with a back to hardwood.

"Ack! Damn it, I need to be more careful." She muttered, picking herself up. The chime had startled Hana a bit, and she almost forgot to pick up her bag. Once recovered, she continued her journey into this ridiculous house. From the outside, it looked like it couldn't be bigger than a walk in closet. And yet? What did she find? A stairwell that seemingly led to the underworld.

Hana was fascinated, in a strange way. As she stepped around, she swiped an inquisitive finger over a counter top and was surprised to find a dustless fingertip. It was all very strangely clean.

From what she could tell, this wasn't all there was to the house. There were no couches, so she deduced this wasn't an Old Nordic Age living room. There was no television set, much less a flat screen, not even anything remotely resembling modern technology. There were strange looking looking outlets here and here, as her millennial eye was trained to look for the nearest one when she entered any given room. It didn't look like anything she could charge her phone with.

The floor was of hardwood; mahogany, she concluded. There were knick knacks and novelty trinkets lining the shelves, and Hana could've sworn one of their eyes followed her as she moved. She shook off the chills it gave her.

Hana shined the smartphone to the array of weapons lined up overhead, to which she frowned slightly. She wondered if she could reach one. They were just antiques, and she was sure they were either rusted or dull, otherwise any smart home owner wouldn't put them up for grabs. Besides, it's not like she was stealing. She just... wanted a closer look.

Frisky, and with a little struggle, Hana brought over one of the existing chairs and set it against the wall. She set her bag down on the floor and proceeded to climb on top of the chair, reaching for one of the swords adorning the walls.

"Come on, just a little-" Hana cut herself off as she heard footsteps approaching. They were faint, but this was an empty house, and she could most certainly hear the slight pitter patter of feet. Wait, scratch that. The feet that were approaching sounded angry. Hana waved her smartphone over to the doorway, her heart nearly beating out of her chest.

She thought she was prepared. She wasn't.

"Ah! Goblin!"

There was a scream. Hana lost her footing on the chair she forgot she was standing on.

 

[Peregrine]

As Karl ran through the corridors, he scooped up another couple items that presented themselves to his hurried form. He swung a scarf that looked a lot more like an elongated washrag over one shoulder, and something that resembled a bedsheet tied to shoelaces over the other. The only time he came to a stop was when he saw a small knob protruding from the wall. He paused, turn the handle that seemed to stick into solid wall, and pulled outwards, revealing a perfectly concealed drawer. With quick, careful fingers, he snagged what looked like a perfectly clear marble from within the wall-drawer, before closing it and twisting the knob once more. The marble was tucked into his pocket.

It didn't occur to Karl that, with a cooking spoon still firmly clasped in his right hand, he looked far more like a kitchen boy than he did a protector of the house. All he was concerned about was the fact that the 'scarf' had been enchanted to intercept any non- or low-magic projectiles fired his way, the 'apron' would harden under physical attacks, offering him some protection, and the cooking spoon had the annoying habit of levitating into the air and beating upon the head of anyone that touched it whom it didn't like.

And if these nuisances did nothing to slow the intruder? Well, that's what the marble was for, although Karl couldn't help but hope that it wouldn't prove necessary.

Fully prepared, a bend in the path in front of him suddenly straightened, and he was able to catch a glimpse of the stone walls of the foyer in front of him. He tensed, picking up his pace a bit, preparing for…

Well, he certainly hadn't been prepared for that.

"Bajingan gila…" Karl muttered, as he saw the figure of a person, perched precariously on a chair, boldly reaching up towards one of the blades that was a part of one of the front door's defensive systems. Karl could not comprehend what this intruder was thinking! They'd made it past the wards without setting any of his defensive spells off. What in high heaven would possess them to tamper with it now, when that would be all the more likely to set it off?

Brandishing the kitchen spoon like he might a sword, Karl strode forward, only to watch with increasing bewilderment as the intruder, a young lady he now saw, lost her balance and toppled from her chair onto the ground.

How had this intruder made it past his wards? He couldn't imagine he'd ever seen someone so incompetent.

"Who the fuck are you?" Karl asked the figure on the ground, his face a mask of rage. "And what are you doing in here?"

Swear Word Translations

"Bajingan gila" - "Crazy bastard"(Indonesian + google translate)

 

[Levy]

Hana's back met with the ground with a soft thump, though her spine would've disagreed. She had only caught a glimpse of the... thing that had appeared in the doorway, so she wasn't exactly sure who or what had interrupted her curiosity crusade. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know. Who knows what kinds of demons lurked in this house.

"A- ah, um, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to intrude or anything like that, I- uh," The girl quickly scrambled to her feet, brushing herself off. She was about to continue to introduce herself, before her eyes fell upon the person, yes, person, who had burst through the doors in a steaming rage. It was deduced that he was indeed a man, though his age was a bit more difficult to pinpoint. He was brandishing a... kitchen spoon at her, and an apron was tied to his waist, along with a few other rags. Where was Karl Filius, the all powerful evil overlord of the supernatural world? Was he in hiding? Would she have to complete some sort of blood ritual to be blessed by his presence?

"I'm.. Hana. Nice to meet you. Erm, I'm looking for a Karl Filius? I didn't get a visual description, but I hear he's very easy on the eyes." She was warned that he would be some sort of charmer, using both dashing good looks and poisonous words to draw her in and ultimately manipulate her into complying with his plans. Whatever they were.

"Are you the chef here?" She looked around, picking up her bag. Perhaps he could help her. This was, after all, a very big house. And Hana was a god awful navigator.

 

[Peregrine]

Cook?

Under any other circumstances, Karl would have been likely to forgive someone who had made such a misunderstanding. But now, the mistake just added insult to injury. Karl's already stormy expression turned downright murderous as he stalked closer to the downed girl.

"You're looking for Karl Filius," Karl repeated, his voice scathing and mocking. A moment later that false sweetness vanished under a flood of profanity. "Eyreh be afass seder emmak. Congratulations, you found him. And guess what? I don't fucking want you here. Intruding? I'd say so. What hee mah gave you permission to just waltz in here and try and fucking touch whatever you goddamn please? Chupe mantequilla de mi culo, I certainly didn't."

After that sudden fit of rage Karl seemed to calm somewhat, but there was a sudden glint in his eye that seemed to promise worse was to come. "Now, you little skitstövel, I will give you one chance to get. The fuck. Out. Before you learn exactly why I'm holding a cooking spoon."

With that final threat, Karl's tirade finally came to an end.

Swear Word Translations

"Eyreh be afass seder emmak" - "My dick in your mother's rib cage" (Arabic)
"Hee mah" - dog pussy (Thai)
"Chupe mantequilla de mi culo" - "Suck butter from my ass" (Spanish)
"Skitstövel" - Shit-boot, essentially asshole (Swedish)

 

[Levy]

Hana's grip tightened around the bag on her shoulders. She'd never seen anyone get so upset so suddenly--it was beyond startling. He wasn't just cursing her in English, no, he was speaking a blend of languages. Spanish? Arabic? God, what was this man? Was her very presence so enraging that it wasn't enough to yell at her in just one language?

"Well." She could feel the tips of her ears blazing numb. "I'll, uh, take my leave then, Mr. Filius." Her words came out choked. The last time she was yelled at so viciously was all the way back in highschool, and Hana did not take well to that. The young lady could feel her eyes welling as she took cautioned steps back, before she downright broke into a sprint at the door. Fuck the artifact. If she had to spend another minute in this house she would break the thing with her own two hands.

From past experience, she knew the door was weak on its hinges, so it was only deductive reasoning for her to run for it directly. This was, of course, a mistake. As Hana absolutely rammed her entire body into the door, it almost refused to give way. Didn't budge. Not a bit. In fact, Hana herself was thrown back.

"What-" She tried again for the door knob. It was not cooperative. Completely defeated, she sent a glare back at the man who wielded a kitchen spoon. "Oh, so you kick me out and then lock your door? Think it's funny? Well, fine. Tell your small intestines I said hello since your head is probably that far up your ass!" Hana was, well, she was a bit overwhelmed, and when Hana is overwhelmed, words tend to fly out of her mouth faster than she can think them.

Still, it was quite a sight; the blotchy eyed girl who barely even reached his shoulder, spitting deroagtories at him. She shoved past him, further into the house. Who the hell cared if the angry goblin man had a kitchen spoon? What would he do? Whack her with it? Karl Filius couldn't hold a candle to an evil overload. He was much more suited to be a grumpy hermit man. At this point, Hana didn't care where she was going, she was simply stomping forward with an iron foot.

 

[Peregrine]

A flicker of a victorious smile passed over Karl's face as the girl broke down and turned away, racing back for the door. There was no guilt in his heart for the tears that had misted her eyes or the sorrowful crack in her voice. Her polite attitude hadn't softened him one bit. That was because Karl didn't trust her. This girl's arrival had been far, far too suspicious, and he had seen far too many people who hid their true nature under a mask of politeness and kindness. In all honesty, if a few kind words was really all it took to drive her away, he'd be...

Karl's thoughts came to a halt as abruptly as the young woman's attempted retreat. Had she been paying attention, she might have noticed that Karl looked nearly as surprised as she did when this happened. The door was locked? That made absolutely no sense. The door didn't even have a lock, so how could it possibly be locked. But her fruitless tugging had already proved that the door wasn't going to open, and Karl was positively bewildered.

Perhaps that was why he didn't react at all when she pushed her way past him and went racing into the depths of the house. Under any other circumstances he certainly would have stopped her, the last place he wanted an intruder to go was deeper into the house, but everything about this situation was going from weird to weirder. First she had gotten in without setting off any alarms, and now she couldn't get back out.

The sound of her footsteps had long since been swallowed up before Karl began to move. He took a stumbling step forward, righted himself, rolled the cooking spoon between his fingers, and then finally walked up to the door. A casual tug led to the door swinging open.

Panic momentarily gripped Karl. Had she been faking it? But the house was normally so helpful, surely it would have opened the door...

Abrupt realization suddenly struck Karl, and he let out a groan, half indignation and half irritation. "Volgescheten palingvel, you did this? You let her in?" The door swung closed once more, the movement almost seeming sheepish. Karl's face once more darkened with rage.

"Grozna si kato salata. Why the fuck would you do that, you kak oudelic shoon, I cannot believe you would..."

At this point Karl's tirade began to degrade from a swear fest into something simply unintelligible by anyone's ears other than his own. This was due to the fact that he was switching languages so quickly that it would be impossible for anyone to keep track of them, let alone make sense of what was coming out of his mouth. However, it was clear no matter what that abuse and insults were a commonly recurring theme.

Eventually, however, Karl simply ran out of air. Panting and ever so slightly red in the face, he finally turned away from the door, which swung limply back and forth, as though equally exhausted. Luckily, the rant seemed to have calmed Karl down quite a bit. "If I didn't know it was impossible, I might have thought you'd betrayed me," he said, sounding almost wounded. "That's certainly what it feels like, no matter how illogical it is." He grit his teeth for a moment in silence, before pushing away from the door.

"Let it be known I think nothing of your taste!" he nearly shouted, before he stormed into the depths of the house. The very last thing that could be heard from the foyer before Karl disappeared was one final shout. "I want something to eat!"

In the abruptly silent room, a figurine on the wall moved, lifting one wooden block of a hand to cover it's painted lips, before a faint, childish giggle filled the room. The figurine lowered it's hand, and then everything was completely still.

Swear Word Translations

"Volgescheten palingvel" - Eel skin full of shit (Dutch)
"Grozna si kato salata" - You are as ugly as a salad (Bulgarian) Apparently this is insulting. XD
"Kak oudelic shoon" - Shit eating dog (Armenian)

 

[Levy]

Tumultuous steps sounded in Hana's ears, along with the faint screeching of an Italian man, but both were mostly blocked out by an incessant ringing. Besides fuming, she was also baffled, and a bit disoriented. Why would he do something like that if he wanted her out in the first place? Yes, he had ill intentions, neither was he the most polite, but locking the door on an intruder, without having the intentions of hurting them, simply didn't make sense.

A sudden unsettling thought halted Hana in place. What if he did want to hurt her? No, but, that wouldn't make any sense either. If he wanted to, he would've done so when he saw her. Right?

Hana didn't want to think about the possibilities. A look around would do her some good, she decided. Though it was hazy, so far, she's passed through a living room, a kitchen, at least two libraries, and a... bar? Hana wouldn't give it much thought. She didn't know what to do at this point, so she simply slumped down against the nearest wall, pulling off her bag. A small cube, a little bigger than the size of her fist, sat in the palms of her hands. She fiddled with it a bit. There was an overwhelming urge to throw it against the wall, but she restrained herself.

Anyone a more knowledgeable in the history of the supernatural would undoubtedly be a little more inclined to store the artifact somewhere safer than a tote bag, but Hana was neither of these things. Nothing happened to it either way-- it wasn't caught in the airport scanners and no one pick pocketed it. It might have been thanks to her mentor's sharp presence, now that she looked back on it.

How was she ever going to get him to help?

Given a couple of moments to regroup and a painfully long sigh, Hana was upright and walking again. She seemed to be in a hallway of exclusively doors. The last time she ate was that morning, and a glance at her phone told her it was around afternoon, so she was considerably hungry. If she could just remember where the kitchen was...

"Mm.. here! God, I am starving." The young girl was about to walk in, when she spotted the goblin man. She stepped back and decided to simply peer inside.

 

[Peregrine]

When Karl had been first designing this house, he'd put a great deal of time and effort into designing the kitchen. It was a large and elegant space, counters circling around almost the entire room, a giant, old fashioned kitchen range placed under a large arch, with a merry purple flame dancing where a wood or coal fire might normally burn. Pots and pans were carefully lined along the wall for easy access, while drawers and cabinets filled the counters and some of the wall space. There were three doors in and out of the room, the largest one granted access to the kitchen from the hallway. The other two led to a small scullery with two sinks and a well-stocked larder with a giant ice box respectively.

It was clear at a glance that the kitchen had been designed to easily accommodate a dozen people, if not more. At four places within the room the counters had been interrupted to drop away, the 'counter' lowering to slightly over knee height. A cushion transformed it into a comfortable place for a person to sit. A high table in the middle had six other chairs, one placed at each end and two along the lengths. The whole room was filled with a soft, amber light.

Karl was seated on one of those chairs now, elbow resting on the table and head cradled in his palm. Somewhere in the journey between the foyer and kitchen he had lost kitchen spoon, apron, and towel, and was now dressed simply in a loose-collared black shirt and dark grey slacks.

Karl had spent a great deal of time in this room since it's construction, but it had long since become his least favorite room in the entire house. Under most other circumstances, he would have been anywhere in the house. The most likely places to find him would be in the living room or library, but there were many, many other rooms in the house, and he would often visit them simply for a change of scenery. However, the only place his demand for food could be met was in the kitchen.

That was why he was now sitting at the table, moping quietly over a clear glass of alcohol while a pile of mushrooms and onion was sliced into small chunks by a knife floating in midair, a pot of noodles boiled on the range, and countless strips of chicken dipped themselves into an egg mix before rolling around in a bowl of mixed flour and spices. In a short while the chicken and vegetables would end up in the frying pan, before a mix of white wine, lemon juice, and vegetable broth would be poured over the mix. In the end, it would all end up placed on top of the noodles.

The smell of the cooking food had yet to fully fill the kitchen, which meant the only thing Karl had to distract himself from the unpleasant memories this large, empty room brought was his glass of alcohol. Perhaps that was why he noticed almost immediately when an unexpected and frankly unwelcome guest arrived at the doorstep of the kitchen.

For one moment Karl felt like swearing again, but it seemed all of the words had finally been emptied out of him. At least for a bit. At some point in the future he'd definitely try and chase this uninvited visitor out of his home, and hope that the front door would actually behave this time.

For now, though, all he did was let out a sigh before lifting his head to glare in her direction. Maybe that would be enough to chase her off.

 

[Levy]

The glare undoubtedly aimed at Hana never quite reached its intended recipient, as her eyes were off wandering elsewhere, namely, the stove and counters upon which food was preparing itself. There was a glimmer in her eyes, the glimmer of a renouned glutton. If she had to take a guess, it would have to be some kind of ramen or soba that this magical kitchen was magically preparing. If she was being honest, she'd stay here in a heartbeat if it meant she could watch the food cook on its own without her having to lift a pinky.

Wiping a bit of drool off her face, Hana turned to the man who was brooding by himself. She held in a laugh, before deciding to take a cautious steps in his general direction. Regardless of whether or not she wanted to, or if he wanted to, for that matter, she would have to eventually confront him about it. It was a matter of now or never.

"Can I sit?" Her voice was soft, but not as timid as it was before. She figured she had already been through the worst, so at this point, there was really nothing she should be dreading.

"Now, I know you don't want me here, but hear me out. Just give me a minute" She pulled over the chair beside him and took off her bag. The same cube sat in her palms, and she gestured for him to take it. It was chipped and wooden and looked like it had been worn down by the injuries of time, with multiple pieces missing, but still had a bit of a charm. Even though she had given it to him as a gesture of trust, she had to be careful to not for a second let her guard drop. This man was evil. He had to be. What kind of Good Samaritan kicks people out of their homes with a sailor tongue?

"I kind of need your help, and I was told you were the only person I could go to. This toy is apparently a really old artifact, and I guess it sorta bound to me about a week ago, and I really don't want it. So, I was hoping you could help me- erm, what was the term... complete it? And then unbind it? Please?" She held up a nervous smile.

Of course, she was told explicitly and repeatedly to not, ever, at all, tell him about Mr. Bangkok and his company. He was a bad man, and could probably wreak havoc on them, and they wouldn't want that. From this, she deduced it probably wouldn't be a very good idea to tell him about the death warrant and its due date, because it was something he could likely hold over her and use to his advantage. Not until she needed to, at least. Hopefully, hopefully, he wasn't as bad as she made him out to be.

 

[Peregrine]

It didn't take Karl long to realize that, in this intruder's eyes, he had already been entirely overshadowed by the cooking food. This earned another scowl from him, but, if anything, the lack of response from her encouraged him to go back to paying attention to his glass of alcohol all the sooner. It seemed that, between the food and the fact that he was now seated and no longer threatening her with a cooking spoon, chasing her off this time wasn't going to be anywhere near as easy as it had been the first time.

Or would have been, that was, if it wasn't for the fact that the house had locked the gottverdammt door.

Internally steaming at that thought, he almost didn't notice the trespasser's approach. Almost. He tensed, unconsciously preparing for… what? He knew she wasn't going to attack him, and as little as he liked to admit it he was forced to concede that she wasn't here with ill intention. He'd had a bit of time to think now, and it was clear that the house had allowed her in without triggering any of the numerous wards he had set in place, and forced her to remain for reasons he did not yet understand.

All that aside, her being here was an unwelcome complication in his life, and, whatever problem she represented, Karl wanted nothing to do with it.

Instead of answering her request to sit Karl scooped up the glass in front of him, quickly scoffing the last of the alcohol as he prepared to push away from the table and leave the kitchen before she got a chance to try and rope him into some unknown scheme. The house would save the food for him until this unwanted visitor left.

He was brought, rather abruptly, to a halt by the feel of dark magic suddenly filling the air. He tensed, momentarily certain that the house's wards had somehow failed and granted access to a dark mage, before he abruptly traced the magic to a cube sitting in the young girl's hands. He scooped it up almost before she had a chance to actually offer it to him, settling back into his seat.

With a sudden burst of realization, Karl understood why the house had not allowed this girl to leave. It wasn't concerned with the girl herself; it didn't want to let this cube out. And, since the cube was bound to the girl, it hadn't allowed Karl to chase her away.

"Drullusukkor," Karl spat out, wishing he could chuck both girl and cube forcefully out of the house. He didn't want to deal with this. He gave up on gathering dangerous artifacts to try and keep them safe from the world's madmen almost half a century ago. Unfortunately, no one had told his house that, and now this girl had decided to just waltz in on his life and bring some ancient, dangerous artifact with her.

At least she didn't have the guts to try and demand he help her. If she'd dared to that, he likely would have dumped the pot of boiling water on her.

Karl rubbed his brows, leveling a glare at the girl through the gaps of his fingers. "I don't help people anymore," he finally spat out. "And it's your shit luck that you just brought a perhot' podzalupnaya artifact filled with dark magic into a house that has been designed to collect and protect exactly that. Which is why it is not letting you back out." This time, Karl's glare was leveled at the self-cooking food. All the various ingredients except for the noodles had been added to the pan, and the smell of frying chicken, mushrooms, and rich sauce was filling the kitchen.

"Believe me, I want nothing more than for you to just fuck off, but it looks like you're stuck here. So you might as well get comfortable."

Swear Word Translations

"Gottverdammt" - Goddamn (German)
"Drullusukkor" - Literally "plunger", something like fucktard (Icelandic)
"Perhot' podzalupnaya" - Pisshole dandruff (Russian)

 

[Levy]

For a good moment, Hana stared at him, incredulous. It was... the house? He hadn't locked the door on her? And he didn't seem all too happy with it either. She would've been almost giddy at his disposal of irritation, had his subject of repulsion been anything other than herself. Still, she had to admit this house really was something else. The fact of a self-automated house made the front door closing on itself and the pair of eyes that constantly followed her around much less alarming.

Well, the latter was still slightly disconcerting.

"Woah, wait!" She'd been so caught up in her own thoughts that his blatant refusal completely went over her head. She still loathed the idea of him holding her impending doom over her head, so she'd hold onto that bit of information. Though, as rude as he was, he sounded honest, and perhaps he would be swayed with a good bit of coercion.

"I don't have to settle down or get comfortable!" Her feet scuffled against each other. "You can just take that cube and- and fix it and unbind it and then we can go our seperate ways!" She laughed, but it came out absurdly forced. "You can fix it, and I can go back home, and then you can get back to, um, doing whatever it is you do. You won't even have to look at me anymore! Doesn't that sound absolutely wonderful?" Her eyebrows arched up with unease.

This was not coercion. This was desperation. Hell, the house could've probably picked up on it! For all she knew, Mona Lisa could've been in the next room, laughing at her from a wall! She tried to keep a friendly, collected salesman-like appearance, but it was clear from the layer of sweat on her skin that it wasn't quite going as she'd planned.

"So, wha'd'ya say? Help a gal out? Please?" She gave an expectant glance at the cube he held. "Pretty please?"

 

[Peregrine]

"'Fix' it?" Karl repeated, sounding almost incredulous. A faint burst of laughter slipped from between his lips, mocking and almost cruel. "Teezak hamra. What, do you think it's some leaky hose? Just put some duct tape on and the drecksau will be fixed? You must be joking."

To Hana's eyes it might not have seemed like Karl gave her cube anything more than a glance. However, Karl had been exposed to more magical artifacts than anyone in the world, living or dead. As a matter of fact, he had quite possibly seen more than everyone on earth combined. But even someone without his monumental level of experience would have been able to tell that the cube she had offered him to inspect wasn't simply broken, it was downright shattered.

"This thing isn't simply old and cracked. It's been broken, and then reassembled. And whatever gam yu lou did it didn't even bother to find all the pieces before trying to stick it back together, which is why they did such a shit job."

Clearly no longer interested in holding the old wood thing, Karl set it down before nudging it back towards the girl. Despite the fact that he clearly held no particular regard for the cube, his motions were still careful and almost respectful. It seemed more unconscious than intentional; if there was one thing Karl had learned in his years it was that artifacts required some measure of respect, no matter how harmless they seemed. There was no telling what could set off some thousand-year curse that had been waiting for just the right stimulus to react, and Karl had no desire for an explosion to occur in his kitchen.

"Believe me," Karl continued, leveling another glare at his new intruder, "I want nothing more than for you to fuck off. But I'm not about to go traipsing off to who knows what djavlepik corner of the world those pieces have ended up in because you batted your eyelashes at me."

Swear Word Translations

"Teezak hamra" - Literally "Your butt is red", meaning "you're a dumbass" (Arabic)
"Drecksau" - Dirty pig (German)
"Gam yu lou" - Literally 'goldfish man'. An old pervert who lures children with bags of goldfish (Cantonese)
"Djavlepik" - Devilcock (Danish + google translate)

 

[Levy]

"Well, yeah." Hana slid the toy in her lap with a limp hand. "I'm not dumb. I just.. thought it would be easier to fix." She muttered. When she'd first noticed the cube, it was clear that it didn't have much cube left, just a few odd knobs stuck together. It never quite struck her that pieces of it were missing, either intentionally gone or not, and that they would have to be found before any fixing could happen. Her head slumped onto a pair of crossed arms sprawled over the table.

It was just settling that maybe this wouldn't be as easy as she had originally thought.

Whichever way she looked at it, she wouldn't be able to get out of this predicament. Her friends and Mr. Bangkok were relying on her, and letting them down was simply out of the question, certainly not after they've helped her so much. She would've probably never noticed the cube and ridden out those six months blissfully unaware. If she really would have to go out and find all of the missing pieces of the cube, then this Karl character, however malicious, had a good reason to refuse to help her.

"Agh!" The table muffled her shout of frustration, which was accompanied with a pair of kicking legs. "I wanna go home!" The last word came out whiny and drawn out, which, at any other time, was a tone Hana would never demean herself to, but it seemed that this Karl man made it his life goal to draw out every last ugly emotion she had.

Two steaming bowls of ramen hovered around the temper tantrum on one side of the table, and one bowl landed gracefully in front of Karl accompanied by a glass of wine Hana did not know the caliber of, whilst the other had sat a little ways from her head, unsure. The scent of home had wafted into her nose, which prompted her gaze up. She was met with the best thing she'd seen all day, and the joy of a freshly cooked meal was apparent on her features.

A quick swipe shoved the cube back into the bag she carried. She looked to Karl, practically bouncing in her seat, for reassurance. "Can I?"

 

[Peregrine]

With gritted teeth, Karl ignored the whining girl to his left, focusing instead upon a cabinet on the wall that had just swung open, with two bowls sliding out from inside.

Two. Karl wanted to groan, but he wasn't even surprised anymore. He had built this house well, and it would automatically adjust to take care of however many occupants dwelt inside of it. The girl was trapped in the house, so obviously it was including her in the category of "resident". Which meant food would be prepared for her every day, warm water heated from her, her laundry done, and whatever room she ended up occupying would be cleaned and neatened just like Karl's was. She might have been trapped here, but there was no more elegant prison she could have found.

Karl picked up a fork immediately as soon as the dish was set in front of him, cutting off a piece of chicken, wrapping it up in noodles, before smearing the forkful across the mushroom sauce and sticking the whole collection in his mouth. Which was why, rather than answering the girl's frankly absurd question, he simply raised an eyebrow at her, an expression of ridicule on his face. He took his time chewing, swallowed, took a sip of the wine, and then finally spoke.

"What? C'est con. Did the cube curse your mouth so that you can't put food in it as well?" Snorting, Karl turned back to his own plate of food, quickly preparing another bite.

Swear Word Translations

"C'est conne" - 'That's idiotic', female connotation, "conne" literally means bitch, but context (French)

 

[Levy]

Patience was a virtue when dealing with Karl. This was discovery number one, Hana concluded, and she would have to simply grow used to both his sporatic use of foreign language and his incessant need to insult her every other sentence if she would ever hope to get out.

Her eyes glazed over the dish as a crane would hover over a water snake, and she picked up the fork with little to no hesitation as he gave her the affirmative. Normally, she'd use a nice pair of chopsticks, but the luxury was unaffordable at the moment, so a western utensil would do just as well. She wasn't picky. Neither was she very careful, it seemed, as she began to absolutely devour the dish in front of her. The first bite that fell into her mouth felt divine, and she had to physically fan herself to contain her excitement.

"Oh my goodness, it's so good! Your house cooks better than my mother and father combined! Do you really eat this stuff every day? And you don't have to lift a pinky? Ah, I could live here my whole life!" Any and all trace of frustration or nervousness had vanished, leaving in its place high spirits. Hana was a glutton through and through; the true magic was what a simple bowl of noodles could do to the fickle girl.

"This is so good, my mouth is in heaven, Karl. Christ, this is amazing! Your house really needs to give me some pointers on this stuff. She'd make an amazing wife. You ever consider marrying her? I would cherish her efforts if I were you." Hana was rambling at this point, between forkfuls of food. Towards the end, she'd held the bowl to her lips and downed the entirety of the soup like a true Korean would.

Upon recovering from her bout of food ecstasy, she had a rather disturbing thought. "It wasn't poisoned, was it?" She dwelled on the thought for a moment, staring at his bowl, before drawing the conclusion that it wouldn't make much sense if he did try to kill her. Clearly, the house seemed to have seperate motives and if he was in fact telling the truth, she was under the protection of the house. "It's not, right?" She knew the question was redundant, but she thought his response would be of value in trying to figure out his true character.

 

[Peregrine]

It wasn't until that moment that Karl finally understood the glory of an uninterrupted meal. He'd been alone in the house for long enough that he'd started to think fondly of the nights, many years ago, when the kitchen had been filled with the warm, friendly chatter of several occupants. Now he realized he'd simply been viewing those memories through the rose-colored glasses of nostalgia, because Hana's chatter was nothing short of obnoxious.

As a matter of fact, if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't want to waste the food, he would have been tempted to shove the noodles in his own bowl into his ears, just to drown out her incessant, nonsense babbling.

He forced himself to try and ignore her by focusing on the dish in front of him. At least the house had the sense not to serve him the raman that the girl was so eagerly guzzling, despite the Oriental heritage of their guest. His broth had been used properly, steamed in the pan along with the chicken and mushrooms to create a rich, creamy sauce that had been poured over the cooked noodles. And it was as well done as everything the house produced.

It hadn't even been his idea, Karl recalled. Back in the 1700's, when he had first been building this house, the idea of automated anything was such a foreign concept that Karl had been desperately trying to figure out how he was going to be able to care for the frankly massive number of rooms contained within the house, and the artifacts within them, more than a few of which would attempt to blow up his house if they were left to gather dust in a corner.

Luckily, Karl had known that magical artifacts that took care of things for people existed. The wooden cooking spoon he had brandished at Hana when she had first entered was the poorest example of them, the bristled broom that was now working its way through the kitchen a much mroe poignant example. He'd seen the skatert-samobranka as well, the mythical Russian tablecloth that was able to produce food whenever it was spread on the table. But it had been a renowned Italian dancer named Giuvannina, also the creator and owner of a tea set that had prepared tea for the person who owned it, who gave him the idea to bring all these artifacts together and get them to actually work with each other to create a single cohesive organism.

The house, as he thought of it, was actually a combination of over 3,000 low to mid tier artifacts, which had taken him nearly 10 years to gather, working together almost like a single artifact.

It was a good thing that Hana repeated herself, as it happened. Karl had gotten good enough at tuning her out that if it wasn't for the momentary silence followed by her question it was doubtful that he would have even heard her irrational concern. As it was, at least he heard her final sentence.

He glanced up, eyes narrowed, trying to recall what she had just said before he remembered that he just didn't give a damn. "If you want more," he said instead, "Just tip your bowl back and forth and the house will come pick it up. And try not to be so dendju noizy about it this time."

Swear Word Translations

"Dendju" - "Goddamn" (Belgian)

 

[Levy]

As the man replied with what had seemingly no correlation to anything she just uttered, she began to realize he had no real interest in helping her, let alone talking to her like a human person. She supposed his centuries of life as an immortal led him to be this way; but still, he could at least pretend to care enough to listen. She figured he wouldn't have offered her seconds if the food really was poisoned, or that he possibly didn't care enough to poison her, so she did as he instructed and tipped her bowl back and forth. If nothing else, she could at least drown her misfortune in a hearty meal.

Slowly, she laid her head back down on her arm and watched with charmed eyes as the bowl lifted into the air and made its way back to the counter top to be refilled with broth and noodles. Her eyes wandered to the broom sweeping away at the kitchen floor all on its own, and then to the mahogany paneling of the kitchen, the old fashioned stove top and brick oven, and the delicate patterns etched into the skirting of the walls. The various parts all came together in a graceful manner, and she had to take a moment to appreciate the artistry of the house. She wondered for a moment if Karl had a role in the design and building process of the house.

To Hana's delight, the bowl she parted with moments ago floated back with a second steaming serving of ramen. She wolfed down the meal with a newfound eagerness, equipped with previous knowledge of its culinary divinity. Before requesting a third serving, however, she reached into the tote back in her lap and stole a glance at her phone, noticing it was running low on battery. Her eyes peered up to the intimidating man before her. Surely, he wouldn't mind if she charged her phone somewhere in his house, right?

"Sorry to bother, but I was wondering where I could charge my phone?" Her voice was tentative as she held up her smartphone for view. She would've liked to avoid igniting his clearly fiery temper, if possible. "I was looking around earlier and I couldn't find an outlet. Oh, and don't worry, I have my own charger," She said, fishing out the familiar white wire and power head from the bag.

She would've liked to be able to go online, or the very least alert her mom that she would be gone for longer than she anticipated. But, thinking about it, she wondered if she would have any cell service at all, considering Karl's house was effectively in the middle of nowhere. She'd already apprised her landlord and art clients of a six month leave due to personal reasons, so her work would have to be temporarily halted. Or permanently, depending on how successful she was in garnering his support. The thought made her uneasy, so she drew her attention back to the grumpy man sitting across from her, expectantly.