[OPEN] We pass by headstones on a walk

[arcanegrasp]

Who: Dr. Elias Coldwood (arcanegrasp), Glory the Fledgling God, and YOU!
What:Establishing wider socialization for Glory, general CR with Elias
When: Spring + Early Summer
Where: The Lighthouse
Warning(s): General eldritch body horror [More pending - will add as they come up!]



Prompts below, noted with the level of CR required for each! For folks that planned with me on the plotting post, feel free to pick whichever one sounds the most correct for what we'd hashed out!

Comments

[yournewsidekick]

Oh she is so freaking cool.

Cheerfully: "I'm Nimona! You're Glory, right? I heard 'em talking about you. Love the incomprehensible horror from beyond the known universe look."

She leans in a little more, watching her reflections move across all of Glory's eyes. "How come they stuck you down here?"

[arcanegrasp]

"Niii... moooh... naaa..."

She tries out each sound, slow and deliberate. That's easy enough to remember. Such a strange new face from all the others she's met before, and a name just as different. How exciting! (Not to mention secretive. Does her papa know that she's got a new friend down here?)

Before she can find too many to questions to ask, Nimona gives her one of her own - one that surprises her. She has to look around, as if to double-check on the little world around her, before she answers.

"Stuck? Not stuck." Her answer is definitive, with the air about it like she's just thought about it, and just now decided it, all in one fell swoop. "This is... my bedroom. See? There's bed."

One of her long arms extends to point to the mattress upon the floor, with a blanket tossed upon it. It's torn in some spots, and poorly sewn back up in others - a never-ending battle of repair.

"Are you... stuck, here?" She asks, after she considered it for a moment. Maybe that's where this new face got that idea from? Perhaps she's gotten trapped? "It's okay. There's a door. Papa can open it for you."

[yournewsidekick]

Oh, yikes. This poor kid. Nimona tries not to wince.

"Nah, I'm good," she says with a slightly strained grin. "Nobody sticks me anywhere, I can go wherever I want. See?"

She collapses inward with a muted pop!, transforming into a bright pink fly, and zips around Glory's... head? Well, whatever kinda counts for a head. The bit of her that holds the most eyes.

"When you're this small you can squeeze through anything," she goes on, her voice about three octaves higher and twice as fast. As she skids to a halt and hovers in front of Glory, "Hey, so, uh... Papa lets you out the door too though, right?"

[arcanegrasp]

The mass of tendrils that constitute a "head" properly form one, pressing and shaping together something almost goatlike, the tendrils so malleable that the tendrils disappear. Six large eyes stay trained to the fly, even with the change, and she lifts her hand to the little bug. (Though, no contact is made. She doesn't want to hurt this bug friend like she had accidentally done with the last one.)

"Out the door? Mm... yes," she answers, after a thoughtful hum, tipping that newly coalesced head of hers to and fro as she contemplates. "But only... when..."

Another thoughtful hum of recollection.

"Nice," she settles, "and a good time, for out of my room. Not always... a good time. But sometimes. But because of... bad times. I can't open it by myself."