Agnes Montague (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pyrodulia) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bottlecaplogs2025-10-02 02:35 pm
pyrodulia) wrote in bottlecaplogs2025-10-02 02:35 pm
[Catchall] Settling In
Who: Agnes and You
What: The process of getting acclimated to a new body and a new world
When: October
Warnings: Mention of Agnes' canonical death (no details), discussion of gruesome use of human remains, cult activity, fire used to destroy important things.
She never actually put any milk in it. She never even drank it. She’d just take it over and sit there, staring out the window into the street for an hour or so, then stand up and leave. I’d go over to clear away her coffee. It was always scalding hot.
The way she always used to order the coffee, it always sounded like she was enjoying it. The order, I mean. Like the phrase “one black coffee with room for milk” was a delightfully novel thing for her to say.
1. Coffee
There was a cafe back home, the Canyon Cafe. Agnes started visiting in 1991, and she was certain that the staff noticed she didn't seem to age a day between then and 2006, when she...before she arrived here in Bottlecap Bay. She'd gotten into a habit, ordering a black coffee with enough room for milk, and then setting with the cup and not drinking a drop. It was the normalcy of the act of ordering she craved.
Here, though, adjustments need to be made. As a Ninetales (what a silly name), she can't exactly hold a mug, so the coffee is prepared and put into a shallow bowl for her. And as a Ninetales, rather than what she was before, she can actually drink it.
She's surprised, with the first sip, exactly how bitter it is. In fact, the look on her face might be comedic for onlookers. There is absolutely sputtering happening, and her tails all standing up straight like a row of exclamation marks.
2. Canopy
For some reason, Rimbombee went out of his way to ensure that Agnes's living quarters up in the Canopy are water-resistant, if not completely impervious to rain, making her more comfortable than some of the other Cheri Berries. In the meantime, though, she can be found exploring the Canopy as a whole or bringing messages from those standing watch to the main building.
There's a restlessness to her that's obvious if you watch her for long. But that restlessness was one she had since she was anchored by Gertrude Robinson. Then, she existed unable to fulfill her purpose. Here and now, she doesn't know what her purpose is.
If you're around the Canopy, perhaps this is a good time to meet the new recruit? After all, she's fully herself instead of Froslass's pet bitch now.
3. Chitin
Agnes has no issues with bugs, in the abstract. But the first time she sees a spider web bridging the gap from the branch of a tree to its trunk, her response is more than a little 'kill it with fire'. Which is especially dangerous considering she's capable of launching a Flamethrower without even thinking about it.
And now the tree's on fire, and the Joltik whose web she just immolated is very upset. Someone should do something about that. Like, now.
4. Wildcard
Catch me on darkersolstice, wherever you get your social media, to plot.
What: The process of getting acclimated to a new body and a new world
When: October
Warnings: Mention of Agnes' canonical death (no details), discussion of gruesome use of human remains, cult activity, fire used to destroy important things.
She never actually put any milk in it. She never even drank it. She’d just take it over and sit there, staring out the window into the street for an hour or so, then stand up and leave. I’d go over to clear away her coffee. It was always scalding hot.
The way she always used to order the coffee, it always sounded like she was enjoying it. The order, I mean. Like the phrase “one black coffee with room for milk” was a delightfully novel thing for her to say.
1. Coffee
There was a cafe back home, the Canyon Cafe. Agnes started visiting in 1991, and she was certain that the staff noticed she didn't seem to age a day between then and 2006, when she...before she arrived here in Bottlecap Bay. She'd gotten into a habit, ordering a black coffee with enough room for milk, and then setting with the cup and not drinking a drop. It was the normalcy of the act of ordering she craved.
Here, though, adjustments need to be made. As a Ninetales (what a silly name), she can't exactly hold a mug, so the coffee is prepared and put into a shallow bowl for her. And as a Ninetales, rather than what she was before, she can actually drink it.
She's surprised, with the first sip, exactly how bitter it is. In fact, the look on her face might be comedic for onlookers. There is absolutely sputtering happening, and her tails all standing up straight like a row of exclamation marks.
2. Canopy
For some reason, Rimbombee went out of his way to ensure that Agnes's living quarters up in the Canopy are water-resistant, if not completely impervious to rain, making her more comfortable than some of the other Cheri Berries. In the meantime, though, she can be found exploring the Canopy as a whole or bringing messages from those standing watch to the main building.
There's a restlessness to her that's obvious if you watch her for long. But that restlessness was one she had since she was anchored by Gertrude Robinson. Then, she existed unable to fulfill her purpose. Here and now, she doesn't know what her purpose is.
If you're around the Canopy, perhaps this is a good time to meet the new recruit? After all, she's fully herself instead of Froslass's pet bitch now.
3. Chitin
Agnes has no issues with bugs, in the abstract. But the first time she sees a spider web bridging the gap from the branch of a tree to its trunk, her response is more than a little 'kill it with fire'. Which is especially dangerous considering she's capable of launching a Flamethrower without even thinking about it.
And now the tree's on fire, and the Joltik whose web she just immolated is very upset. Someone should do something about that. Like, now.
4. Wildcard
Catch me on darkersolstice, wherever you get your social media, to plot.
no subject
As for what comes next, he glances away from her, setting his cup back down but keeping his paws firmly wrapped around it. There’s something nice about knowing without needing to say it. There’s also something nice about finally letting go of pretense and secrecy.
“If that’s how you want to play it, sure. I won’t force your hand.” He’s giving her a second chance to think about it. One last out before fully committing. “Funny thing about places like these: no one has to know what you really are.”
no subject
It feels vaguely unnecessary to ask. She doesn't think Bigby's that type, to go panicking the moment someone is open about being an Avatar. So she's going to go all in.
"I think of everyone here I've met, you're the most likely to understand. After all, we've already talked about it, in abstractions."
no subject
"When you've lived most your life as the unrepetant lord of monsters, it's hard not to be a little understanding of someone with the same tastes." It feels strange, saying that out loud again. Like visiting your hometown after what feels like a lifetime away. "So, go ahead. Hit me."
no subject
(Which makes their first meeting even more ironic, no?)
He's like her, a monster in
humanPokemon form."I'm an Avatar of the destroying flame that Robert Frost wrote about in his poem. I was born to end the world."
no subject
Avatar. It's not a term he's deeply familiar with, but he can make his guess all the same. A being powerful enough to end the world in fire. Some kind of deity then, if not close enough to it. He never really got himself involved with the all-powerful, until they encroached on his territory.
"No wonder you've made an enemy out of an archivist of all people," he hums, finally making that thought known. Nothing more damning to records than a fire out of control. "Wasn't born for anything myself though. I'm what you call a self-made wolf."
He says this like he's not the son of a god himself.
no subject
Wolf--yes, definitely the Hunt, a derivative of the fear of being chased and attacked by a predator. Not the same as her fear, but close enough to be a fear, to feel some sort of kinship.
"The archivist made an enemy of me, though. Not the other way around. She performed a ritual to anchor me, to make me unable to serve my purpose. She thought I was some sort of demon summoned by a cult. Inaccurate, but close enough to move her to act."
no subject
His brows furrow the more he thinks on it. The so-called forces that brought him into existence. If he let them have their way with him, he would have died a long, long time ago. A runt left alone in the woods has no purpose, until he made his own, again and again and again.
But, just as suddenly, his expression softens, their previous conversation still on the back of his mind. Does anything matter in the long run, if all of life's choices have already been ordained from the start? He's getting a fuller picture now.
"... Fear's a great motivator," he huffs after some silence, not realizing how close he really is. "She had everything to lose. Didn't concern her if she had to take everything from you to protect it."
Just the way it goes with their lot, he almost adds. The hero always gets their monster in the end.
no subject
Her ears perk slightly, as she pauses to nibble another morsel of pie.
"But that shouldn't stop me from trying something new. Who knows. Maybe I'll even like it more." It's not quite throwing his own words back at him, but allowing him to hear them again with more context applied.
good to wrap?
What a sobering thing death can be. He had thought himself above it for so long, only to reach its doorstep just very recently. But whereas his first thought would be to consider it an end, Agnes offers a different perspective. A comforting one, in fact. Sometimes, a new beginning is all you could hope for.
Only, he has promises to keep, and miles to go before he sleeps.
"Hm. You'll have to tell me how that goes. Plenty of new around here for all of us." An amused huff follows. For once, he doesn't mind hearing his own words thrown back at him. He stands, ready to take his leave for now, though not without offering one last bit of advice.
"But next time, do skip the coffee. Don't bother with hot cocoa either. Too sweet. Tea might be a happy medium."