Written Wonderland

The person drawing stopped abruptly and frowned. Jaz watched thoughts travel through his mind, and she had the uneasy feeling that her risk had been altogether too much, but there was nothing to do about it now. The man put a stern hand on top of the map he was making as though he were protective of it or obscuring it from her. She pulled her eyes away from it and looked up at the person, wondering if she should be afraid of him.

Would everyone she ran into be so hostile?

"So strangers don't wander in unannounced," he finally replied, his voice staccato and chiding. She watched his frown deepen. Almost as an aside, he added, "You know you're out of place here. And you have no idea how to blend in. You'd do well to be forthcoming; as things stand, you come off suspicious as hell."

The comment stunned Jaz, and her mouth fell open. Gods, she was tired. Maybe if her mind were clearer or it hadn't been so long since she had been touched or if she had slept well or if the dark fae had not tried to make a pass at her, she could have managed to be more convincing. But she didn't know anything about this place. The gate could have sent her anywhere.

Making a pouting frown of her own, she looked at the man, crossed her arms, and said, "Fine, but can I at least sit down first?"

The woman's mouth fell open in surprise, and then pouted, crossing her arms with a frown.

"Fine, but can I at least sit down first?"

Ren was quiet for a moment, torn between the satisfaction of having called her out and some grim displeasure about having been right. There was nothing else to do but hear her out now, though, so at last Ren moved his pack to the floor to make more space and slid the map with him around the side of the table, where he pulled out a stool from underneath it to sit down. Then he gestured with his free hand toward where another stool stood beneath the table near where the woman stood.

The man was quiet for some time, and Jaz wondered what she would do if he said no. Sit on the floor, maybe, just to be obstinate? Leave, eventually?

But then he started moving his pack from the table and pulled out a stool for himself, gesturing for her to do the same. She did in short order, settling herself down and tucking her legs around herself as much as she could to feel less exposed.

She could tell he was looking at her, waiting for her to fess up, but she still had no idea what to tell him. The truth? But how much of it? And where to begin? Would he even believe her? And why?

Well, she wanted that map. It sat between them like bait. And she wanted to see his fingers moving across it again.

Maybe she didn't want to talk. Maybe she just wanted to show him what she was.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to let go of her shape. In the goddess' realm, it was as natural as breathing, but here, it was an effort, especially with an audience. After a moment, though, she relaxed enough to let it happen, her body unspooling itself quickly until her clothes were empty on the stool and a mass of light blue smoke crowded the ceiling above the table. After a short swirl up there, Jaz urged herself to coalesce again, settling back into her clothes and opening her eyes.

"I'm a djinn from Dehaljadrun's realm. I've come of age to take my sorala and needed to leave my village as a result. I'm meant to live in a new realm until I can find my way back." She figured that was enough for him to work with, and he could ask for what else he needed--or tell her to get out. She'd honestly rather know what he was going to do--what anyone in this realm would do--after knowing the truth. And if this person wasn't willing to help her, she was sure there would be others. And perhaps she could be more convincing next time.

The woman pulled out her stool and sat, arms and legs all huddled close to her body as she contemplated how to share what she needed to share. Ren was anxious, his heartbeat steadily growing louder in the silence. He had no idea what she might say, or how he would respond to any of it. Finally, the woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and Ren steeled himself, hand instinctively resting on the dagger on his belt.

All at once, she seemed to start melting - no, evaporating? Her clothes collapsed onto the stool right in front of Ren's eyes, and a light blue smoke clouded the air above him. Without hesitating, Ren stood and stepped back, dagger drawn though remaining at his side, simply at the ready. He watched the smoke above the table move in a slow swirl before flowing back into the woman's clothes and, soon enough, reforming her body.

"I'm a djinn from Dehaljadrun's realm," she stated.

Ren didn't know what a djinn was, but he certainly knew of Dehaljadrun. Demon Queen or goddess of dreams, either way, what she knew of her legends was that she was a clouder and corrupter of thoughts and oft tempted mortals to ruin. Ren couldn't help the sharp glare he tossed the woman--this creature who called herself a djinn. He was about to ask why she'd come to this realm, but, perhaps reading his thoughts, she went on.

"I've come of age to take my sorala and needed to leave my village as a result. I'm meant to live in a new realm until I can find my way back."

Ren allowed a silence to pass as he chewed on that. He knew as little of soralas as he knew anything else about the djinn, but he supposed a coming of age tradition of leaving home seemed benign enough - potentially. It was tempting to write her off as a demon with naught but ill-intentions, but even if he were to do that, what should he do next? If she could turn to smoke, his dagger was all but useless. With a soft sigh, he returned it once more to his holster on his belt, and regarded the djinn matter-of-factly.

"And what do you intend or imagine you might do while you are in this realm, djinn?"

Reforming from smoke was like winding a well-loved rope, and it took some concentration.

When her mind was fully back online, she plainly saw the dagger low in Ren's hand. He was now standing. His sharp glare at her admissions cut to her throat, making it a little difficult to swallow, but she didn't show it. When she was finished speaking, the silence wore on. And on. And it was everything she could do not to press her toes into the floor.

Finally, he sheathed his dagger, realizing the absurdity of a blade in this encounter.

Yes, I was right. He is intelligent.

What she hadn't seen was recognition beyond his immediate reaction at the name of the goddess.

"And what do you intend or imagine you might do while you are in this realm, djinn?" he asked.

The way he said the last word--like a name--hurt. And yet, she was proud of what she was, and ordinarily honored. She shrugged it off with a roll of her right shoulder and took a deep breath.

"I only just arrived. Today. Now," Jaz said honestly with a small sweep of her hands. She didn't want to make him nervous.

She couldn't stop thinking about his hand around his knife, the dagger, held loose but confident. Her gaze flicked to his hands now, significantly distracted. She squeezed her eyes shut. Honesty was going to be... difficult. Gods, she wanted to curl up on the ground so badly. Two conversations now without a touch!

"I..." Her eyes flicked to his, her eyebrows pulling together in slight worry. "We..." she said, unnerved and excited at the same time. Looking down and shaking her head, she finally asked, a little breathless, "May I touch your hand?"

The djinn rolled her shoulder, finally flinching at Ren's tone. Good. She should know she can't just waltz into this realm and immediately be welcome.

After drawing in a deep breath, she answered, "I only just arrived. Today. Now." She gestured with both hands as if at the world contained on the table, simultaneously exasperated and cautious. Again, good. Ren shifted his weight onto one hip, silently satisfied that she was treading carefully, at least in some respect.

But then she shifted her gaze and shut her eyes, a different sort of nervousness brimming. Ren straightened his posture again, regathering the small bit of vigilance he'd started to let slip. There was still so much he didn't know about this creature, so much ground to cover before there could be trust. He almost wanted to just tell her to leave, the idea of traversing this conversational gauntlet exhausting, but that was just kicking the can down the road. He had her attention here, now, reportedly after she'd only just arrived - there may be no better time to try to do this.

"I..." the djinn met his eyes again, worried--if not pleading. "We..." she tried to continue before looking down and shaking her head. "May I touch your hand?"

Ren felt little but disgust for her faux breathless entreaty for physical contact--hopeful to cloud his judgement, no doubt.

"No." He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight onto one hip again, glaring calmly at the djinn for a brief moment before adding, "You haven't answered my question."

"No," he said coldly. Jaz shivered and leaned away from the man. Okay, not very friendly. Great. "You haven't answered my question."

Jaz was a little tempted to cry. It had been a very trying couple of days, and this wasn't going well. She was tired and wanted touch badly, but the last thing she felt like doing was making herself vulnerable in front of this man by getting down on the ground. He held enough contempt for her that that might genuinely be dangerous. And, as far as she knew, there was no contract between these creatures and her people to protect her.

Her mouth turned toward a frown at she stared at the floorboards to the right of her for a moment before meeting the man's gaze again.

"Survive?" Jaz said with some exasperation and a wider gesture across the table. "What is it you aim to do here?" She crossed her arms and quirked an eyebrow, frustrated.

Ren watched as the djinn aimed all the emotions that crossed her face down at the floorboards. She did look on the edge of tears, and admittedly he couldn't quite decide if he wished she'd just cry, then. It hurt his chest to think about, but his stomach would honestly be relieved to see actual tears -- those were harder to fake. She kept it together, though, frowning at the floorboards before finally raising her gaze to him again.

"Survive?" she said with another exasperated gesture over the table, this one a little bit broader. "What is it you aim to do here?" She crossed her arms and quirked an eyebrow, frustrated.

Ren rolled his eyes. Ironically, though, the empty reflection was oddly comforting, in a similar way as tears would have been -- someone better-versed in manipulation would have a better arsenal than that. Maybe it was time to toss her a bone.

"Some legends of creatures from other realms speak of tricksters at best, corrupters or enslavers or murderers more often." Ren stated this matter-of-factly, his tone almost that of a teacher. "What, exactly, does survival entail for a djinn?"

The man rolled his eyes at her, and her frown deepened into a full-blown pout, her eyebrows coming together. Was he really going to be so dismissive of her?

"Some legends of creatures from other realms speak of tricksters at best, corrupters or enslavers or murderers more often." The man spoke with an almost condescending tone, and Jaz wanted to roll her eyes right back at him, but she was too distracted by what the man was saying. Surely her fellow djinn wouldn't have done any of those things? Though, she imagined the dark fae certainly would. "What, exactly, does survival entail for a djinn?"

Jaz's chest ached at the question, and her stomach made a gurgling sound that made her increasingly uncomfortable. And then she felt tingles all over the surface of her skin--phantom touches like those of a swarm of insects--though that was mercifully brief.

She closed her eyes and shivered again, bringing her arms around herself. She didn't want to say this. She really didn't want to say this. She...

"Touch," she said and resisted the urge to cover her own mouth, though her hand twitched in that direction. "Djinn, we... touch is like food. I mean, we can eat other food, too, I think, but..." She opened her eyes, her confidence waning as she glanced at the man in front of her and looked away. "But it's not like, we don't... I wouldn't consume you. It's... mutual... it's..."

She stood up and dropped her hands to her sides, shaking her head.

"Are you... is everyone here this..." she gestured at the man with one hand, "...obstinate?"

Gods be damned, she shouldn't have said that. She had the distinct impression she shouldn't make this creature angry.

"Look, it's not like I'm a dark fae. I..." Gods, that probably didn't mean anything to him. Bringing her hand to her forehead, she said, "I... should just go. I've clearly made a mistake." Jaz turned around, knowing she was leaving her back exposed and vulnerable to the man but unsure how else she was supposed to leave, and took a couple steps toward the door.

The djinn closed her eyes and shivered, bringing her arms around herself.

"Touch," she finally answered. "Djinn, we... touch is like food. I mean, we can eat other food, too, I think, but..." She opened her eyes to look at Ren, but then quickly looked away. "But it's not like, we don't... I wouldn't consume you. It's... mutual... it's..."

She stood up and dropped her hands to her sides, shaking her head.

"Are you... is everyone here this..." she gestured Ren with one hand, "...obstinate?"

Ren let out a huff of air almost like a chuckle, though the djinn seemed too flustered to notice.

"Look, it's not like I'm a dark fae," she went on. "I..." she stammered then, bringing a hand up to her forehead. "I... should just go. I've clearly made a mistake."

"Wait." Ren spoke up when she turned around and stepped toward the door, his tone calm but still instructing more than requesting. His arms unfolded from his chest, though, one hand instinctively reaching toward her before he pulled it back to his side.

"Will you accompany me to the village? Someone there might know more about your kind."

Some part of him wondered why he didn't just let her leave--it wasn't like she was his responsibility--but he'd feel better seeing this through. Certainly better than simply sending her to the village by herself. Map or no, she was likely enough to end up there if she left, and he'd just as soon be there to ensure she didn't try blending in again, for honestly everyone's sake.