The Sounds of Minds

They don't know how they got here. Perhaps they took a wrong turn or fell from a high place or simply woke up in this strange place, a shaded glen beneath the long branches of a magnificent oak tree. It's a rather pretty place, and not an unpleasant one to find themselves in. Or, at least, it isn't at first sight.

It doesn't matter how secretive they are or how much they hide or how long they've been doing lying, because now, they feel a sudden impulse to tell the truth, the whole truth, and are very incapable of deception. It's confusing but they find the words coming out of their mouth before they can stop it.



Kratzer let out a yelp of surprise as he fell, hitting the soft ground with a thump, his daggers flying out of his fingers and embedding themselves in the grass a few feet from their point of origin.

He pushed himself up and coughed, spitting out blood and hissing with frustration and pain. He'd lost his target, he hadn't fed in weeks, and now that he wasn't following through on his contract Boomslang was sure to be pissed.

"Sheisse!" he growled and put a hand to her forehead, drawing it away with blood from where he'd hit it on the ground. The grassy ground.

This raised a question: where even was he and, how, exactly, did he get here?

Spoiler

Here's a quick description of my character! He a man in his late twenties to early thirties, and happens to be on the taller side. He has dark brown eyes, shoulder length black hair and stubble on his chin. He's currently wearing all black, most notable of all being a black duster. He looks very disheveled and definitely more than a little intimidating.

God, his head hurt.

Clutching the offending part of said head with his hand, he unsteadily sat up and looked groggily in front of him. He had expected to see the room they were staying in at the inn, but instead found himself staring up at a giant oak tree he definitely didn't recognize.

Still holding his head in pain, he hurried to his feet and searched the area for someone or something that he recognized. The longer he looked, the more certain he became that he was in a completely new place. Which, in turn, made him groan out in frustration.

"Raptor, this isn't funny!" he shouted.

There wasn't any response. Shoot. He had been hoping that the comment would draw him out of wherever he had to be. Time to try another route. "Bartimaeus, I don't know what game you're playing at right now, but it's not working!" Still no response. He was starting to suspect that maybe neither one of them were responsible for this - after all, Bartimaeus was Bartimaeus. He would have been gloating by now.

As he looked around, he finally found someone. The man looked like he was half-dead from the way he was coughing up blood, but it wasn't like he could be picky. He strolled over to him and crouched down beside him.

"Hey there," he said, giving a casual little wave. "I'm P-"

Eyes widening in horror, he tried to say his name again. "I'm Pu-" Come on! Why couldn't he just get the name Dresden out? Something really weird was going on right now, and he didn't know what. Was it one of Raptor's potions? Could they even do something like this?

Okay, so he couldn't say "I'm Dresden". That would make things difficult, but maybe he could work around that by saying a different introduction instead?

"My name is Puck."

His eyes widened even more than before. That had definitely not been what he was trying to say! He rushed to come up with some way to explain it. Maybe he could play it off as a weird nickname if they ever met again, or something like that? (He was going to kill Raptor the next time he got his hands on that magician!)

James woke up with a start when he heard voices from behind him. He reached for his gun and tucked his legs under him so he was in a squat, and he peeked around the large circumference of the tree which- wait. He froze, looking up at the large oak tree with low hanging branches.

This was not the tree he'd taken a nap under.

And when he poked his head out from the side to see who was there, he found himself more concerned with the unfamiliar scenery than the two strangers gathered together. That was, until he noticed one of the men was coughing up blood.

Warily, he waited to reveal himself, and remained behind the tree, observing. It was inevitable that they would notice his presence soon, but he didn't want to announce himself. He had no reason to.

He had always been good at noticing people. Call it a talent or a major annoyance - so many of Artie's surprises had been ruined because of it - but he was ultimately an observant person. And, right now, he was very clearly observing someone that was lurking behind the giant oak tree. Observing might have been the wrong word. He was simply just paying attention to the sounds he heard coming from behind him, and from the fact that he felt like someone was watching him.

Opting to leave the man, he rose and made his way over to where their mysterious stalker was. He made sure to keep his footsteps silent, just in case the guy hadn't bothered to look around the tree again. There was just something satisfying in scaring the living daylights out of someone.

He peered around the tree with a casual wave. "Hey there," he said, giving a wide grin that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm P-" He bit his tongue. Tried his best to focus on getting the right name out. Tried to focus on anything but his actual name. "I'm Marius of Britannia, but you can call me Puck for short."

Cue the inevitable look of horror appearing on his face, because that had definitely not been what he was trying to say. Using his nickname was bad enough, but using his true name? It practically was screaming the truth to anyone who knew anything about magicians and spirits!

James drew back when the man’s face appeared to greet his, with a look of distaste marking his features. Puck, or whatever his name was, looked terrified by the very words that were coming out of his own mouth - which made little sense.

“Why do you keep making that face?” he asked, giving puck a critical look.

The look that the man was giving him was definitely one of the ruder ones he had received lately, but it definitely didn't top what Bartimaeus had given him last night alone. He thought for a moment. How was he supposed to respond to a question like that? He could go the obnoxious route and make a jab at the man's appearance, but that was low, even for him. Or he could say something about how his words weren't come out right - it wouldn't be half as rude and would still conceal the fact that he had been attempting to use an alias.

"Well," Puck said with a sigh, "when I try to tell a lie, I tell the truth instea-Oh, come on! I'm going to beat the living daylights out of Raptor when I get my hands on that weaselly magician!"

Spoiler

Heh heh. This will be fun. I'm throwing in a character from an adventure story I wrote way back yonder. He is a compulsive liar, a prankster, and a thief. Basically he's a boy who thinks that he's a man. Wearing a hodge-podge of clothes in different period styles and a colorful beaded rope tied across his forehead in an attempt to set off his sandy curls. Oh, and he has a raccoon.

Finch woke up to his raccoon pulling his hair and scratching at his ear. He groaned and attempted to bat her away with an uncoordinated wave of his arm. He didn't want to open his eyes just yet- the place where he was sprawled out seemed to be swaying, reminding him of the hammock he had spent many nights on recently. Last thing he remembered, he had made an escape after drugging Bane, the pirate king. If he was back with the pirates, he swore he would scream and go ahead and jump overboard.

His raccoon bit down hard on his ear and he bolted upright, nearly falling out of the net of tree limbs he seemed to be in.

"Dammit, Gem, what's wrong with you?" Finch reached up to rub at his ear and sent an accusing glare at his companion.

She chattered at him and climbed up to his shoulder. He shifted on the branches and surveyed the area. It seemed like he was in a giant oak. His head throbbed numbly and he sighed. So, someone who had it out for him had most likely slipped him a hard drink and sent him here- somehow. The trouble would be to narrow down his list of suspects.

Finch was suddenly aware of voices bellow him- two men seemed to be confronting each other. They hadn't seemed to notice his presence so far- that was a good sign. He creeped a bit closer on the sturdiest-looking tree limb and tried to spot a nice, loose belonging on on one of them that he could swipe. After he talked them up and gathered information, of course.

His intent gaze caused him to creep forward inch by inch, until he balanced his weight on a weak spot on the branch. Suddenly, there was a snap, and he tumbled down to land a few feet away from them, flat on his back.

"Hello gentlemen," he gave them a charming, slippery smile from where he lay. It was time to pull out his small talk cards- he opened his mouth to excuse his presence: "don't mind me, I was just examining you both for valuables so that I could steal them."

His smile wavered. Well, that was strange. Depending on the mens' reactions, he would probably have to fall back on his second specialty- quick escape.

Kratzer, who was about to introduce himself when this new boy walked over, simply stopped and frowned at the boy.

"I have had a very long, very bad day, kid, don't test my patience by trying to steal anything," he says, and by his appearance it's true. He's disheveled and has more than a little bit of blood on him - though how much is his is difficult to tell. He turned his attention back to the two men. "My name is Engel Jäger, but most call me Kratzer because I don't want people to be able to track my past." His eyes widened as he spoke and he clapped a hand over his mouth. What the hell was that?!

Puck took a quick step back from the apparent thief - pirate, maybe? - and closed his jacket in a clear attempt to prevent him from stealing the few belongings he had.

"I'm not letting you take anything from this body," he said, wanting to groan in frustration when the reply came out the way that it did. The words sounded questionable at best and deeply suspicious at worst. He had to try to make things right. "I mean, I'm not letting you take anything from Pres' body-"

He wisely followed Kratzer's lead by clamping his hand over his mouth and staring at them with horror clearly written on his face.

Finch stood and dusted himself off. Gem hid herself in the layers of his clothes- he wouldn't say that he blamed her.

"Well, I don't know what that's all about, but I'm feeling very intimidated by you three. Not enough to run, but please don't step any closer- I'll start to feel inferior."

He stared ahead, grin still plastered on his face, and cringed inwardly in embarrassment. It seemed that regardless of what he wanted to say, his subconsciousness was picking and choosing for him. By the looks on the other mens' faces, they were experiencing the same phenomenon.

"Ach, no need to be intimidated," he said, the words coming out of his mouth impulsively. "Just because I kill people for a living doesn't mean I kill kids. Well, that's not entirely true, I have killed kids but I didn't want to, it just - what the f*** is going on here?!" he growls, his accent particularly harsh as he becomes frustrated.

He slowly dropped his hand down to his side, staring at Kratzer - or Engel, or whatever his name was - with wide, horrified eyes. His eyes had admittedly been wide for the duration of the conversation, but they were noticeably larger after hearing what had been said. He took several large steps back from him, bumping into the trunk of the giant oak tree behind him.

Then he took a deep breath to calm himself, because the whole point of pretending to be Dresden was so people like Kratzer wouldn't cause him trouble as he worked towards his goal. It was what he had been doing with Raptor since the moment they had met. He slipped back into the act - the cool posture, the casual and calm look on his face and the tone he had used so many times already.

What should have happened: "I've heard of worse before. As long as you don't try killing me, I think we'll be good." Cue a cheerful smile that could look downright terrifying when combined with the context and his overall appearance.

What actually happened: "I'm very, very disturbed by that," he said. His eyes widened, but he was able to quickly take control of the reaction. "And if you so much as take a step my way I'll light you on fire because I need to protect this body at all costs."

This time, he let himself groan.

Finch sighed. It was always assasins- why must he always run into assassins? He couldn't lie- literally, it seemed, couldn't- he was even more wary of Kratzer now. Gem licked his neck reassuringly, and he strained very hard to piece together a response that couldn't backfire. Defending his pride from the 'kid' comment was his first goal.

"Just so you know, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." He paused and bit his tongue in it's effort to get the next part out, "for an orphan with abandonment issues. At least I'm good at getting away from baddies."

He closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. Great- he couldn't seem to stop digging a hole for himself. Should he even try to address the killing kids thing?

"You seem okay, for a baddy. I mean, I'm not as terrified as usual. Good job."

Okay, no. He should most certainly shut his mouth.

He put his face in his hands, letting out a long breath. "That...sounds...different than it was. It wasn't...like that. I never took a contract to kill a kid, even I have my limits. It was war, and it was complicated." What in the lord's name was going on? He didn't want to tell the truth, he hadn't meant to tell the truth, and here he was spouting all his secrets the minute he opened his mouth!

James didn’t know what was going on. Somehow, he’d woken up in a place where deceit was impossible, as if all lies were sucked out of the air and truth was forced out. He bit his tongue and clenched his teeth, biting down what he felt was the same urge to speak and say something - and urge that was never normally there. He clenched his fists, willing himself not to speak as he watched the other three fumble around with their words, frustrated every time with what came out. If they, helplessly, were finding themselves spilling about their pasts, and having their true emotions and intentions laid bare before the others in unwilling vulnerability, he did not want that.

It was then that the nails digging into his palm broke the skin, and he began to bleed.

“D-dammit!” he muttered. “I’m trying my damned hardest to keep my mouth shut because I’m terrified and don’t know what the damned hell is going on and, dragons above, I don’t want you to know that I’m wanted for treason against the kingdom f-“

He slapped his hand over his mouth, following the example of the others. He furrowed his brows down on wide, frustrated eyes. About to mutter another explative, he ended up finishing his sentence instead.

“-for sabotaging the king’s plans to ressurect immoral experimentation on kids so he could build an elite team to assasinate the world’s leaders.”

James let out a helpless whimper of a sigh. He couldn’t even speak to cuss out whatever it was that was forcing the truth out of him without it doing just that.