Talon rested his back against the chalkboard, slipped the pencil in his other pocket, and, fully stepping away from the conversation, used the moment to overlook the four in front of him. This may have seemed a little out of character for the person he wanted to portray, but if you looked at it from a different perspective, it was totally in character.
Was it not vehemently childish for a prince to remove himself from a situation and pout if it wasn't going his way? Sure, Talon could keep being stubborn and piss everyone off… but that would impede him from accomplishing his goal.
So, Talon watched the other four while letting a sour look plaster his face.
Crow was still pale and seemingly afraid of Talon, never letting Talon out of her sight. She stood right next to the bathroom door as if ready to retreat at any moment.
'Can someone lock themselves in there?'
Remi sat on top of the front left desk in relation to Talon, which placed him between Crow and Talon.
Temp sat on a chair in the back right of the room, the desk he had knocked over still lying on the floor.
Vitty, having calmed down for the most part, was now sitting in the chair at the front right desk. She still tapped her hands together from time to time.
'A nervous tic?'
Remi revealed his plan:
"Our first step in trying to figure anything out should be revealing who we are. Perhaps there's a factor that has brought us all together. There could be an actual reason we're here beyond what that shadow monster had to say."
Vitty responded first:
"Yeah..."
Crow slowly nodded.
After a four-second pause, Temp added:
"...I'm fine with that."
Talon tilted his head back and looked down at them.
"Do what you will..."
"In that case, I'll start." Remi stood, placed a hand on his chest, then continued, "I'm of the Mare line of the Tristol kingdom, third in line to the throne." Remi sent a glare at Talon. "I am, or at least was, nineteen. I don't know how I died, but the why most likely sums up to succession rights."
Talon studied Remi's face and mannerisms. It wasn't too hard to figure out that at least some of what he said was possibly true. The man carried himself like a prince… the only thing unregal about him was his foul mouth…
'Who am I to talk?'
As for the nation itself, Tristol was to the far, far east. Talon had only ever heard rumors about it once or twice, and all he remembered was the name.
Remi smiled and sat back down on top of the desk.
Vitty went next:
"I'm a…" Vitty paused, her eyes darting around the room, and nervously continued, "was a glassmaker. I live, well, used to live on the outskirts of Flurenial. I don't really have any family or friends. I was uh, twenty. Uhh.. I've heard good things about Tristol, though I've never been able to visit."
Remi smiled.
"Thanks for your kind words."
Talon desperately hid a snicker.
'Remi… you're plan's working, you bastard. Hahaha.'
Vitty was either a terribly good liar or a true fool. Talon wasn't going to make any gambits with his existence, but her situation was growing more and more clear. At least, if Talon's theory of the Restrictions was correct…
It's not like he knew anything, though. He didn't know more than any of them. He could be entirely wrong and barking up the wrong tree. Hell, he might be barking at a mirror.
Talon glanced at the clock above the door whenever he could.
'1:35'
When Vitty signaled she was done, Crow cautiously walked up to the chalkboard and picked up a piece of white chalk from the holder. Talon slinked to the side, giving her space to write… also, because his presence was scaring her.
With Talon out of the way, the busty girl brought her hand up and slowly smushed the chalk into the green board. As she scraped along, it made a jarring noise and left a large trail of dust in its wake.
It was evident she'd never written on one before. Well, neither had Talon. Usually, only the highest-level institutions had them in their classrooms.
Talon has never even been in a classroom, except to clean one! And none of them he's ever cleaned had one.
When she finally lifted her chalk, there were three words on the large board: 'Eighteen', 'seamstress', 'Pleiora'—her apparent age, occupation, and country of residence... Needless to say, former.
This nation was the first one Talon knew a little bit about. Pleiora was the commerce nation just across the channel… From time to time, his masters would talk about the country in passing. From what Talon could tell, they had pretty good relations.
As for her being a seamstress… her hands when she was writing were way too unsteady. Sure, she may not have a formal education, but a seamstress should have good handwriting despite that. Speaking of handwriting…
Talon wasn't all too good himself. He practiced with a stick in the mud when he had the rare break, but he was always careful because if he'd gotten caught, it would mean a beating. A slave's value would plummet if they knew how to read and write.
However, when he did write, he made a concerted effort to ensure what he wrote was legible. It was a matter of pride in that regard.
With Crow done…
Temp cleared his throat and tapped the ground four times with his foot, then, in a slightly sterile and awkward voice, spoke:
"I was a leatherworker. I was twenty-one years old. I lived in Olaria."
'How odd…'
Talon didn't know much about the man, but his manner of speaking had changed in the last ten minutes. His voice, words, and actions all felt rigid. Even if he only said a few words before, the change was odd. Not to mention the guy was constantly tripping over himself.
Talon couldn't help but form a hypothesis for Temp's Restriction based on that extrapolation.
On the other hand, there were just too many variables remaining to attain any conclusive rationale. He'd have to keep watching Temp for now.
Remi looked at Talon:
"I don't suppose you wish to share anything about yourself?"
"You already know everything you deserve to know. I am The Prince."
Remi brought two fingers to his head and rubbed his temple. He was done with Talon's shenanigans.
"Sadly, it doesn't seem we have any connection. I'd wager to say that our only connection is how disconnected we are. None of us are from the same continent and we led very different lives… as far as we know."
Remi pushed himself off the desk and walked around, giving the room a light inspection, then added:
"I guess our next course of action should be to inspect the room for anything strange… From looking to the front, I'll take the back left, Crow can take the back right, The Prince…" Remi sighed, "The Prince can take the front left. Temp, you take the front right. Vitty, you take the bathroom…"
'You sure I'm the asshole?'
Vitty shrieked:
"I uh, can I—"
Talon interjected:
"Who are you to think you can order me! I'd usually reject a wretch's request, but since I'm curious about this strange facility, I'll go along with your inspection plan; however, I'll choose my job. I'll take the bathroom… It's no place for The Prince, but there's something I wanted to check. Hope you don't mind."
Remi smiled, deviously.
"That's fine with me. Vitty, you can search the front left."
"Y-yeah! Okay!"
Talon held back his smile and trudged his way to the bathroom. Peering through the doorway, the first thing he saw was a sink with a mirror above it. Talon cautiously approached it and stared at his reflection.
'I look… surprisingly clean.'
He'd noticed it before, but his clothes were truly immaculate. No stain or anything in sight. He drew his gaze up to his pulchritudinous face, a face that had once been hidden behind all sorts of dirt and grime. A dirty face that he'd only ever gazed upon through muddy water's reflection.
'I… I really looked like this?'
He did look like a prince… Perhaps his nickname was kind of fitting. His beauty stunned even himself. It even seemed like his hair had been cut and styled for him.
'I knew I was fairly good-looking because of how the servant girls treated me, but this…'
Talon brought his hand up and caressed his face. A face that screamed and radiated trust. Talon opened his mouth and saw an effulgent smile.
'This… I did not need to go overboard playing the fool…'
If he had known he was this majestic before, he would've acted like Remi… Although being able to stick it to people was fun and satisfying in its own way.
After admiring himself in the mirror a bit more, he finally got to searching the bathroom in earnest.
Talon gazed at the floor, which sprawled out in an even grid pattern with white tiles sectioned by black lines. The wall was painted solid blue all around, and there was a peculiar grate on the solid white ceiling. Despite the presence of no light source, just like the room outside, it was inexplicably bright.
As for the toilet, it looked like nothing Talon had ever seen. He'd heard rumors of them before, but seeing them in person was something new.
It was white and had a latch that allowed it to be opened and closed. Talon played with it a little, picking it up and letting it drop.
"What the hell are you doing in there?!"
Temp's scream put Talon back on track.
'He lost his rigidity just to scream at me?'
Talon then discovered that the back part could be removed and took it off to see water in a small vat inside.
'Peculiar… how does this work?'
Talon pressed down on the small lever on the side and watched as the vat flipped over, causing the water in the bowl to spin into a vortex and vanish into the hole at the bottom. Then, the vat flipped back up, and water began to refill rapidly.
'Where… where was this in the outhouses?! This thing must be a gift from Alta himself!'
Talon didn't even need to use a bathroom anymore, but he remembered the horrid smell he'd have to live with. Having to scoop it out and carry it to the river… The people constantly contracting dysentery… Here was a device that could take care of all those problems!
He cursed his enslavers and anyone who'd dare indulge in the luxury of sitting on porcelain thrones!
Finally, Talon returned to the sink and opened the cabinets under it. He looked inside but saw nothing but metal rods. Talon shrugged, then played with the sink a little and jumped back when water started spurting out.
'Yeesh! That scared me!'
Talon meddled with it for a little while and quickly discovered that pushing it up would turn it on, and pushing it down would turn it off—a grand discovery.
When he was done, he turned around and closed the solid brown door. When he did, it had a lock that he had never seen before, and in the middle of the door was a weird clock-like thing.
Curiously, Talon twisted the lock and heard a clink. In the next second, the clock started up and left behind a red aftertrail as the hand swiveled around.
Talon dropped to the floor and took the paper and pencil from his pocket. To the best of his ability, he scribbled a message then tucked the paper back in his pocket.
When sixty seconds passed, the lock clicked again, unlocking itself, and the timer began slowly moving in reverse. Talon stood up and tried to lock it again, but it wouldn't budge.
He reopened the door and looked at the others. Remi was playing with the window, trying to open it, to no effect. Crow was cautiously looking in the fridge while holding a glass bottle of water in her hands. Vitty was nearly pressed against the chalkboard, running her fingers along its surface. And Temp… Temp had fallen again and was lying on the floor, with his head turned away from Talon.
Talon opened his mouth to speak, but he never got the chance.
Temp cut Talon off before he could.
"Stop calling me a wretch…"
Temp craned his head and stared at The Prince in horror.