The Sixth Iteration (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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sixthiterationlogs2016-06-30 04:00 pm
sixthiteration) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2016-06-30 04:00 pm
Entry tags:
- !arrival post,
- asoiaf: jon snow,
- dragon age: dorian pavus,
- heathers: veronica sawyer,
- losers: cougar alvarez,
- martian: mark watney,
- marvel: frank castle,
- marvel: peggy carter,
- marvel: sam wilson,
- ouat: emma swan,
- pacific rim: raleigh becket,
- spn: jo harvelle,
- star trek: kira nerys,
- star wars: hux,
- star wars: kylo ren,
- tvd: kol mikaelson
July Arrivals
WHO: Arrivals
WHERE: The fountain park
WHEN: July 1, 12:00 PM
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: CLOSED
In the snug circle of an old park, a fountain sits burbling beneath a broad, midday sky.
Once-neat paving stones have buckled and cracked from the slow nudge of wayward roots. Benches stand covered in lichen and rust. Three paths push into the underbrush like the spokes on a wheel, the encroaching forest creating lush tunnels through the dark.
But the fountain stands singular and pristine, brightly splashing in open rebellion of the deep, muffled sounds of a place long ago gone to seed. A vibration hums through the ground, there and quickly gone, and the water in the fountain trembles, lapping against the high walls of its cool, pale reservoir.
It is the first of July.
It is precisely twelve o'clock in the afternoon.
WHERE: The fountain park
WHEN: July 1, 12:00 PM
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: CLOSED
In the snug circle of an old park, a fountain sits burbling beneath a broad, midday sky.
Once-neat paving stones have buckled and cracked from the slow nudge of wayward roots. Benches stand covered in lichen and rust. Three paths push into the underbrush like the spokes on a wheel, the encroaching forest creating lush tunnels through the dark.
But the fountain stands singular and pristine, brightly splashing in open rebellion of the deep, muffled sounds of a place long ago gone to seed. A vibration hums through the ground, there and quickly gone, and the water in the fountain trembles, lapping against the high walls of its cool, pale reservoir.
It is the first of July.
It is precisely twelve o'clock in the afternoon.
Re: Arrival: Jo Harvelle
Loud? Well, it can work, but it's not him. He gestures towards the first row of houses. "Lady's choice," he says with a tip of a hat that isn't there.
Re: Arrival: Jo Harvelle
Jo would love anything that she'd normally have on her, and everything her backpack had carried across four worlds. She'd even go for a full new stock from what had been the Roadhouse's filled coffers out of Aja's hands and bankbook. All of it gone entirely annoys the hell out of her. Salt rubbing into the wound, over and over and over, each new time she remembers and her tense just enough without no one to punch for it.
Though she'd still take a gun, and or, especially, her father's knife, over a lockpick kit even now.
She heads for the first house. No lights on in any windows she can spot. A thick dust settled on the stairs, and the window ledges, the porch and the door. That makes her give Cougar an odd glance, but even then, she still raises her hand and knocks first. Just. In case. The lack of a gun made it harder to have anything defensible if it was just someone who didn't give a damn about their place hiding inside it versus it just being this abandoned.
Re: Arrival: Jo Harvelle
He covers his mouth with his arm as he heads inside, trying not to inhale too much of it. "No one here," is his opinion, because if they are, they're messier than even Jensen.
Re: Arrival: Jo Harvelle
She doesn't even sound like she's annoyed or scolding. She's far more of the class and kind who like to get in and out without being seen, heard, or leaving the hint to be questioned later. But that's what hunters do. They don't mind fucking with shit, or talking you out of your money, across a table or through a card, or taking things that aren't rightfully theirs. But usually without any clues that might lead back.
The oops just makes her shake her head more. Amused, even by way of that being creepy, in and of itself.
"It's doesn't look like they've been here for a long time." Not with how much dust was kicked up just by him kicking in that door. The arc it made on the dust on the floor, and -- "Just look at this stuff." It looks old. Like old-old. Older than anything she'd had be far. Even the Apocalypse had been rundown after current. The furniture and everything. It was so much older than anything she could remember seeing outside of bits of old movies.
Re: Arrival: Jo Harvelle
He opens the drawers in the kitchen, tearing through the possessions, but there's nothing personal here. No names, no pictures, no indication that anyone has actually lived here.
"Do you think these were built and left to dust?"
Re: Arrival: Jo Harvelle
It made more sense to be in the Hell Dimension with nothing, at this point, than in a room that seemed decades or a century old.
She passed through there, the awkward, heavy boots, scuffing up dust bunnies, to the kitchen when he's made it. "It's fucking creepy to think about someone building this whole town ages ago just to let it sit here, without anyone to live in it." Beat. "But if there were people, where are they now? It doesn't even look like it's been touched. Like people were only just here at some point."
Which just seems even stranger. Nothing personal, but nothing modern. But modern had any number of meanings.
Which is where her next words come from, "Maybe it's not that old. Maybe we're somewhere in the past?"
Re: Arrival: Jo Harvelle
And at the same time, is there anything sane about the fact that he can't get back through a fountain portal to his team?
He shakes his head, trying to dismiss the idea that he's losing his mind. "Even if we're in the past, why so dusty?" he demands.
Re: Arrival: Jo Harvelle
The first words get an exceedingly well-worn in dart and half-roll of her eyes. It's only been minutes since she arrived and she's not sure she even wants to have that conversation. Not that Cougar's given her any reason to discount him, but it's been only minutes since arriving in this place. But crazy isn't something she is. Not when she's done that too many times.
The past. The future. Other planets. Other universes. Other beings.
So much other it had it's own boxes and dictionaries.
It helps that she gets it, when his next question actually incorporates her idea, like it's not insane. She doesn't want to be anyone's dart board. But she gets it. Or because she gets it. It is insane. A lot of the time. A lot to wrap your head around, and even years later, she's right fucking here today, still not at the end of that road, that never stops bumping, twisting, dropping her down, out, upside down like a rollercoaster without warning.
It's a why she really doesn't have an answer for, tossing back instead. "How long does it even take to get this much dust?"
Re: Arrival: Jo Harvelle
It's not a good sign. "What next? Another house?"
Re: Arrival: Jo Harvelle
"Can't hurt. Double check that maybe this one and the next one are the same?" Jo was headed back for the door, because it was good as this being an empty, forgotten place. Which was strange. Once upon a time, nearly a decade ago, she would have assumed something like this was gone and forgotten because it was haunted. Ghosts. Monsters. But that's not here either.
Nothing prickling at the back of her neck and warm in her palms.
No single sensor in the light sigils on her shoulders, check and back trembled slightly.
Headed down the stairs, she went back to it. "How many years? Five? Ten? Half a century?"
Re: Arrival: Jo Harvelle
"No," he says, dragging a finger over the table and eyeing it. "Two possibilities," he says. "Not many years and there were people." Because dust comes from dead skin cells and that means if there are people, then this type of dust layer doesn't mean much. "No people? Could be decades," he agrees.