Here comes a candle to light you to bed

[homicidium]

Who| Wednesday Addams and you
What| Second place is just the first place loser. Also she kind of hates the Capitol.
Where| D7 Suites, Sublevel 1, the Roof
When| A day after the end of the Arena.
Warnings/Notes| Standard macabre Wednesday stuff.

I. Wednesday wakes up in her room, as everyone does, and takes a few moments to get her bearings. She throws away pretty bouquets, bright and beautiful, and figures out how to change her holographic window into a dark night scene with a full moon and bare tree branches swaying in the wind.

Then she can only do what feels natural. She goes to her bathroom and brushes her teeth and hair, braids it into her two sleek plaits. She scowls at her closet, at all the sparkle and embroidery and color, but then eventually settles on the least embellished dress in there -- it's black and simple, but there's still rhinestones on the white collar, and frilly ruffles along the hem.

She's equally as grumpy in the common area of the Suite, where she's forced to watch herself lose over and over again on the constantly-playing screen. She tries to find food, but it's all sweet and colorful, and none of it even moves or has eyes or occasionally emits a burst of flame.

Miserable, she finds a kitchen knife and sits at the table with her hand spread flat, sadly playing hand roulette to try and make herself feel better.

She misses the Arena.

II. She didn't really know what she'd find when she pressed the very bottom button on the elevator panel. It seemed worth it either way, since it couldn't be worse than the brightness and volume of the Lobby or anywhere else she'd seen so far.

It's not terribly surprising to find what looks like a large parking garage combined with a storage unit, but it's at least sort of dark and dank purely by virtue of being so far underground. It's the most comfortable place she's found in her time here, so she decides to stay a while.

Wednesday can be found here most of the day, sitting in a chariot by herself, curled up with her chin on her knees, quiet. She's sure that she probably shouldn't be here, but then they really shouldn't have given her access, should they?

III. The roof is only somewhere she dares venture after dark, once the sun is gone. The flowers disgust her, but if she sits in the right place and faces the right direction, she can see the mountain range in the distance, past all the city lights, and that's sort of comforting to look at, with the moon hanging low over the far off peaks.

Mother would like that, to go up that high and moonbathe.

Wednesday thinks about lost travelers and those crushed in avalanches, and she feels a little better, running her finger along the embroidery of the cushion she sits on, murmuring to herself.

"Who killed Cock Robin? I, said the Sparrow, with my bow and arrow..."

Comments

[homicidium]

Wednesday can only pause, knife tip wedged slightly in the wood of the table, and look over her shoulder at the person speaking. Then her brow knits in confusion, because Wednesday has a very extensive knowledge of monsters, and this doesn't appear to be any of the ones she knows.

"What are you?"

The question is innocent, but thanks to Wednesday's demeanor, it comes off unpleasant, stand-offish. But there's nothing except curiosity in her eyes.

[shiningeyes]

Wednesday's tone gives her a moment of pause, but just a moment. She's been asked the same question much less politely since her arrival here. Being the bigger person here is easy. (And not just because of her weight.) She stands a little straighter, head lifted.

"I'm a Shadow Monster. From the Shadow Line." Which is a perfectly true explanation, but probably explains very little. Still, she watches for the young girl's reaction.

[homicidium]

"I've never heard of that. You don't look much like a shadow, though."

The knife stands straight on its own as Wednesday takes her hand off the table and turns in her chair, resting her arms on the back of it. She looks at this monster with a vague aura of interest, almost examining her.

"What do you eat? Is it people, or only their shadows?"

[shiningeyes]

No recognition? That's fine. It's hardly surprising. She holds in a bit of a giggle, advancing further into the kitchen. "Most haven't. It should be that way. Humans don't know about us, and most have a hard time even remembering us once our darkness has faded." It's a little sad to think about, but perhaps that's for the best. If they're ever to regroup and try again, leaving the humans clueless would be helpful.

She does actually laugh a little at Wednesday's questions, though there's a bit of a shocked gasp and she raises a hand to her mouth. "I eat food, just like anyone else! I absorb darkness to make myself stronger." And then, with a little aside glance and a lowering of her voice, "...I only devour people when it's absolutely necessary."

[homicidium]

Wednesday tilts her head to the side, angling her face to better look up as the shadow monster, which Wednesday is still vaguely suspicious of, comes closer. "So what do you do? Just lurk around in the dark? Since you don't eat people unless you have to. Most monsters eat people. I don't know if it's because we taste good or just because they can, though."

[shiningeyes]

"...I do what I wish?" It's a funny kind of question, but it seems to be packed full of assumptions on just what a 'monster' ought to be. Her careful advance towards the refrigerator is halted, for this needs to be clarified. "Some monsters eat people. Others torment them. Others imprison them. Others trick them." Some build large ominous trains that transform into large robots and attempt to conquer the human world. It takes all kinds. "...I prefer the taste of cake to people, if I'm being honest."

[homicidium]

"No, I mean every kind of monster has something they're known for doing. Sirens sing, vampires can hypnotize and turn into bats, trolls and fairies steal babies and leave their own behind. Stuff like that. What do shadow monsters do?"

She doesn't think much of explaining other monsters, since maybe this is just a kind that Wednesday doesn't know, and so why would the monster know the things Wednesday does?

"Everyone has their own preferences. Monsters are part of everyone."

[shiningeyes]

Gritta makes a curious sound, for it's not like she's met any vampires or sirens or fairies. (Trolls, she has met. They're really not what human legend said they would be.) "You mean... at their most basic? Shadow Monsters spread darkness, to prepare the way for their Emperor." A task that she'd been generally untalented at, but no one needs to know that right now. Having said it, it doesn't seem all that interesting, on the whole. She gives a little sigh.

"Are they? Why would you say that?"

[homicidium]

"There's an Emperor? Why does he need monsters to spread darkness?" She's also curious as to whether this is literal or existential darkness, but she figures that explanation might come later, if she can keep the girl (it's definitely a girl monster, Wednesday is sure) talking.

"You're standing right there. You're a someone, you have a right to like cake more than humans."

[shiningeyes]

"Because the Emperor can only safely exist in the darkness." Though it suddenly strikes her as a bad idea to say too much more. It's going to eventually get out that Zed's the 'emperor' and she doesn't want to give anyone a weapon to be used against him. They're both going to need every possible advantage. So she leaves it at that, and resumes her advance to the refrigerator.

"Aaah. Yes! I suppose you're right." And she gives a little giggle as she pops the fridge door open. There is no cake to be found, but there's a little container of strawberries. Those will do just fine. She takes them and closes the door. "Are you fond of cake, then?"

[homicidium]

"That makes sense." Not as much sense as why a darkness-needing emperor wouldn't simply choose to live underground, but sense enough to Wednesday. She doesn't ask any more questions about it.

She shrugs. "Cake is all right. I don't usually like sweet food, but it's not as bad as some other things. Grandmama makes good cakes. I don't eat Lurch's cake anymore because he always cooks something into it without meaning to."

[shiningeyes]

If it makes sense, then there's no need to tip her hand any further. That's just fine with Gritta. Still holding her strawberries, she takes them to the table and goes to have herself a seat. "What do you prefer to eat, then?" She does set the strawberries at a distance that indicates that she's free to have some, as well. "...and what sort of things would he cook into it without meaning?" She is cautiously curious. How could cake go wrong?

[homicidium]

Wednesday doesn't take any strawberries, although it's just because she isn't really hungry -- fruit is fine by her. "I like different things," she says, almost indifferently. "Things that are still sort of alive are always good, I like it when the food plays back with you."

She rests her elbow on the table and props her head up in her hand. "Usually just whatever he forgets. Knives, glass, things like that. People, once or twice."