sixthiterationlogs | July Arrivals

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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.

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"Alarms, then," Peggy says, because she wouldn't want to lose her leg on a perfectly normal walk just because someone's paranoia drove them to setting up something with a great deal of sharp edges. "Maybe something that won't harm anyone if they come across it without knowing. I'd hate to limit our already apparently small population."

She nudges the door to the structure they've arrived at open, having to use her shoulder to give it a bit of a push.

"What do you think this is?" she asks, of the large building.

Nerys squinted into the dim light as Peggy tried to get the door open a little further. Clearly someone hadn't been there in some time--but the room they could see from this entrance had a number of tables and chairs, plus what looked like a bar off to one side.

Funny, how bars looked the same on nearly every world Nerys had ever been to.

"A cafe," she said, thoughtfully, stepping gingerly inside and checking her corners with a quick glance or two, just in case. "Or some kind of bar or something. But not for a long time."

Peggy's only seen this sort of thing in history books the likes of which stretched past the first world war, to homes that her grandparents might have lived in. It's very odd for her to be standing in one of them, unsure what to make of it.

"We should check for food," is her first instinct. "Maybe someone's left something?"

"Yeah," Nerys said, as she realized that losing the contents of her stomach (a very nice dinner with Riker, who had then fucking shot her) was likely a really bad survival technique in the long run. "Though I don't know how old it will be. I...is this Earth, do you think? I don't recognize any of the trees."

"I've never seen any other planets," Peggy says with an apology heavy in her words. She feels like she's missing information to be useful, but unfortunately she can only offer what she knows and she knows that this looks like Earth, but she also hasn't travelled all over. "The oxygen levels are clearly suited to life," she says.

"So Earth or something else like it."

What if this were some sort of alien planet? Maybe it would explain the somewhat abandoned state? The time period, even, to a degree? Or maybe she's just reaching.

"It's okay, don't worry about it," Nerys says, looking around them at the mysterious trees. "Humans didn't have interstellar travel for ages, so if we're from different places in time..." She shrugs and chews on her lower lip, realizing that maybe, just maybe, this might be breaking some kind of rules about temporal interactions. Not that she's subject to Starfleet regs about the Temporal Prime Directive around here.

"Earth or not, it's definitely a Class M world, or we wouldn't be breathing, and a pretty comfortable one at that, so that's a benefit, I guess."

Peggy keeps looking around her at the strange little structure they've come to, like a holdover of time gone by. "What do you supposed we're meant to do in this place? There must be some reason we're here," Peggy says, not believing that this is all just a coincidence. "Perhaps we all have some function, some purpose."

"Maybe it's not that we're meant to do anything specifically...just that we should do what we do, and be observed," Nerys replies, and her tone's just a little bit bitter, because she thought she was past that stage of her life. Though if they're being watched, hopefully the watchers are less sadistic than Cardassians.

"I've never appreciated being a lab experiment and I think I'd like being a goldfish even less," is Peggy's opinion of such an idea. She shakes her head in disbelief to imagine that could possibly be the case. She breathes her frustration out. "I'm sorry. I'm in a mood. Being kidnapped does that, apparently."

"Didn't say I liked the notion either," Nerys replies, but it doesn't have any bite to it--she's too soul-weary to care, and she can tell, just as Peggy says it, that her companion is feeling similarly. "Oh yeah, it definitely does for me too. It's okay."

She gestures vaguely with one hand towards the roofs in the distance. "So, should we go downtown?"

Peggy gives a brusque laugh at the remark. "Yes," she agrees wryly, thinking that if this is to be the downtown she has to get used to, it will hardly take even a nano-fraction of the time it took for her to understand both New York and Los Angeles. "Let's not get lost now," is her deadpanned joke.

Nerys tries to remember the human story about getting lost and putting down pieces of food or rocks to try and trace one's way back, only to fail, but she can't remember the exact way it went in Chief's telling, so she decides to shelve the idea.

"Don't know how much more lost we can get, honestly," she says with a darkly amused grin.

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July Arrivals

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