July Arrivals

[sixthiteration]

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.

Comments

[andrend]

"If nothing else a way to purify it can be found or thought up. I will take a planet of odd weather over a desert wasteland." His words are short and clipped, but over all Ren has dropped his combative bristling attitude for the moment and settled in on the knowledge that for now he has to work with these people. It's no different than being aboard the Finalizer, other than the respect or fear he would have to work to re-instill in these new strangers.

"This building is too ill-conceived to have stood weather like this for long." He agrees without directly saying Sam was right and frowns, the slightest downturn at the side of his mouth and a furrow of expressive brows.

"We should check on the others. If nothing else they can be directed to more productive uses of time than huddling in refuge from the storm."

[notabirdcostume]

Sam couldn't agree more. At least they HAVE water to work with -- even if it looks disgusting right now. He knows there are billions of people back home who have to use water like this on a daily basis. He also knows those same people suffer from a number of diseases, but right now they may be looking at the difference between living with a bug and dying. He'll take a bug, though it's perhaps a little early to start getting so negative.

Sam's notices that this man seems to refuse to admit that he has made any good points. He's not upset, it's just another quirk to add to this man's growing list. Sam smiles slightly and turns back to exit the kitchen, "Sure, maybe they'll want to explore the upstairs area and break some furniture up there too. That'll be productive."

It's a playful jibe that Sam can't resist as he starts to head out of the kitchen.

Unless you have objections, we can wrap this up here/soon

[andrend]

Ren expels a breath through his nose at the jibe, a half snort of derisiveness. He doesn't smile, but he doesn't seem to get any more irritable at least. He just follows Sam toward the exit without even a secondary glance toward his discarded weapon. He could make another, and he could handle himself without it just fine.

"Smugglers often stash their most valuable contraband in the panels of the least suspicious looking items on board their ships." It is the only response he can think of that isn't immediately combative. Just an offhand comment so Sam wouldn't have the last word.

sounds good to me!

[notabirdcostume]

Well that's an interesting tidbit from the man. It wasn't actually expected and at first Sam would have chalked it up to an attempt at a show of humor before he realized the man was series. It was something to consider actually, though Sam was skeptical that someone putting this much effort would hide something like that.

Still...you'd never know. Sam was just surprised a guy like this knew something like that. Definitely some interesting folks in this mix of people.

"Good to know."