(no subject)

[enterprisingheart]

WHO: Jean-Luc Picard
WHERE: The fountain and around town
WHEN: 8/4
OPEN TO: Everyone!
WARNINGS: None at the moment; will update as necessary

---

The Fountain

With first contact with the Vulcans successfully (re-)established, the trouble with the trouble with the Borg dealt with, and the timeline (presumably) set back on it's proper path, Picard had, generally speaking, assumed that they'd make their way back to the 24th century and whatever inquiry might be awaiting them. Instead, he comes to and finds that he can't breathe, eyes snapping open a moment later to find that he's underwater. Which explains the former, at least, but not why he's here instead of on the Enterprise. Which isn't to say that he has any significant complaints, when it means postponing what would almost certainly have been a visit from Temporal Investigations, but it's not anything that he can he'd be expecting either.

But there's no time to dwell on the fact. He might not know why he's ended up underwater - or where - but he can see light coming from above, and that's better than nothing.

He breaks the water's surface a moment later, coughing and blinking as he begins to haul himself out of the fountain. As beginnings go, he thinks to himself, it's not a terribly auspicious one. But he's alive, even if he feels half-drowned, and just at the moment, he'll take that.

Out and About

Once he's had some time to get his bearings - helped a little bit by an explanation from Beverly - and has figured out where he's going to be staying besides, Picard takes to the streets. Such as they are, anyway, but the point is more figuring out the lay of the land. And what they have to work with besides - explanation or no, he much rather prefers to actually see things himself. And if that also comes with the opportunity to talk to some of the people he hasn't already met.

The earthquake catches him off guard, small though it is, for all that it's mostly that he hadn't thought to expect any tectonic upheaval.

"Never a dull moment, I see."

He's not really directing the comment at anyone. But it's spoken loudly enough to be easily heard, and the last thing he's about to do is stop someone from chiming in if they should care to.

Comments

fountain

[ethnobotany]

At this point, Beverly hadn't been expecting to find anyone she knows here. At least not from her ship and her crew. She knows of Major Kira thanks to Deep Space Nine, Julian Bashir she had met at Starfleet Medical, and of course Spock and Kirk were well known figures, even if she thinks the Spock she met was simply named for the famous Vulcan. But as she happens to approach the fountain, someone's head breaks the surface of the water and a very familiar face begins to haul himself out of the water.

The breath catches in her throat and for a few seconds, she's rooted to the spot. But then her lungs inflate in one large, painful breath and she's running straight for him, unable to stop herself. She's missed the entire crew of the Enterprise more than she could ever say; seeing her best friend and captain climbing over the edge of the fountain makes her ache with it.

"Jean-Luc!" she calls as she nears him, wishing she had a towel with her. Maybe she should start bringing her backpack and a couple of towels from her house just in case someone happens to climb out of the fountain while she's passing by.

She should probably say something else, but her voice sticks in her throat and as much as she doesn't actually weep to see him, there is definitely emotion creeping into her eyes. She has missed him.

"I'm so glad to see you."

[enterprisingheart]

For all that a couple of towels wouldn't go amiss, it's hardly the first time he's ended up having to pull himself out of bodies of water. And on the bright side, while the weather is a little on the cool side it's not so much so as to make it particularly uncomfortable to be standing around in clothes that are soaking wet. (And if there's one good thing about the state of his hairline, it's that he won't have to worry about waiting for his hair to dry.)

The sound of a familiar voice from nearby is enough to have him turning in that direction as soon as he's finished hauling himself out of the fountain, and it's a genuine relief to find that he's not the only person from the Enterprise around. Even if concern follows close on the heels of that relief - while there might not be anything visibly wrong with the situation at hand, the fact remains that someone (or something) has dragged them both from the Enterprise. And in way that he can't recall at that, which doesn't bode particularly well besides.

But he barely has time to even begin to consider what that might mean in the long run, before Beverly's running straight at him. Which is interesting in its own right, although it doesn't seem like now is the right time to say anything about it.

"Beverly," he offers instead, with a smile. "It's good to see you as well."

Even only because her presence offers a much needed point of familiarity just at the moment. And though he has noticed the emotion in her eyes and the way her voice catches in her throat he says nothing about it. Answers can wait until she's ready to give them, regardless of when that should happen to be.

[ethnobotany]

The utter relief Beverly feels at seeing her best friend and captain is beyond measure. She teeters on the edge for a few more seconds before she crosses a line they've never spoken of. Stepping forward, she reaches up and wraps her arms around him, knowing that it'll be something of a surprise to him. For all he knows, he's seen her very recently. For her, though, it's been months.

She keeps the hug for a few long minutes, just enough to show how much she has missed him, before she pulls back, heedless of how his dripping wet self will have gotten her wet.

"Come on," she says gently, stepping back and turning in the direction of the house she's claimed. "I've got towels you can use to dry off in the house and I'll explain everything I know when we're there. But first I need to know what the stardate is for you."

She'll answer the same question once she has his and anything else he wants to know.

[enterprisingheart]

It's absolutely a surprise. Not that he resists, precisely, nor does he make any effort to pull away, but it's very clearly a surprise. And one that raises some very interesting questions, especially given that she's all-but-ignored the fact that he is soaking wet. Unfortunately, he doesn't quite manage to get around to returning the hug by the time he pulls away, but he's not certain that it had been meant as something that she'd expected him to return.

(Even if he can't quite shake the feeling that he should have, now that she's pulled away.)

On the other hand, the offer of being able to dry off is more than a little appealing, and even without the offer of explanations besides he'd have been perfectly willing to follow her to the house she's mentioned. That it'll give him a chance to see at least a little more of the village besides doesn't hurt either. The request for a stardate, on the other hand, comes a bit more of a surprise, and he blinks at it before mentally shrugging and assuming there's probably a reason for it. Especially when the last things he can remember prior to his arrival have directly involved time travel.

"50893.5, as of when I was last aware."

[notsocommon]

The earthquake was something so commonplace at this point that Helen barely lost her balance. She had been here for almost a year now, by her reckoning, and seismic activity had been a part of this place since the day she'd arrived. It was something that was concerning to her, yes, but on the grand scheme it was low on the list of things she wanted to investigate or dedicate much time to. She was one of the doctors and, as such, she devoted a good portion of her day to that very purpose; at the time of the temblor, she'd been heading to the hospital to take stock.

The man who spoke was new to her and Helen was interested in that; she often took a sweep of the fountain daily to see if anyone new had come through but she'd missed this person entirely. "No, not in this place. Whoever has us trapped here clearly likes to shake the ant farm upon occasion to see if we all scurry for cover."

[enterprisingheart]

He turns at the sound of someone else's voice. Admittedly, Helen's voice isn't one that he can claim is familiar, but that's true for most of the people in the settlement just at the moment. And besides, while he might not like the thought that there isn't any sort of way out of the predicament they've all found themselves in that's certainly no reason that he can't get to know his fellow captives.

(Assuming that's what they are, but so far he hasn't seen any reason to consider otherwise.)

"I've known the type, unfortunately. And I have to say I'm not feeling terribly inclined to scurry either, at the moment."

Which might very well only serve to draw the ire of whoever happens to be responsible for their being here, but he's willing to take that risk, just at the moment.

[notsocommon]

"I've been here for a year now and I've had my fill of scurrying. I'm going to try to see if I can get out." Helen knew it was a stupid thing to say, especially to someone she'd only just met and hadn't even exchanged names with but the point stood: she was tired of waiting to see what would happen and wanted to start making things happen. That's what she'd done in Carentan and it would be a course of action to start pursuing here. She only wondered who else among them would agree with her. Hopefully enough.

"I'm Helen, by the way. Dr. Helen Magnus. It's a pleasure." She extended a hand to the man, offering it to shake. She'd erred a bit in speaking before an introduction but she'd been interrupted in medias res, as it were, and sometimes thoughts had to be completed before she lost them entirely.

[enterprisingheart]

For all that he's only just recently arrived, the idea of finding a way out is something that very much appeals to Jean-Luc. One that might certainly be easier said than done, given the length of time Helen has just quoted as the duration of her stay thus far, but that just means that the way out isn't something that's immediately obvious, not that there isn't one.

Still, he figures further discussion on that front can at least wait until after introductions have been had.

"Jean-Luc Picard. And likewise." For... given values of 'a pleasure' that include being trapped in the same bizarre situation together, but instead of mentioning that, he simply takes the hand she offers - the handshake that follows is almost textbook polite.

"And while I certainly can't claim to have been here anywhere nearly as long... I know the sentiment."

Out and About

[thegreatexperiment]

The quakes had become so underwhelming that Sam no longer even trembled when they came and went. She barely had to put one hand on the trunk of the tree she was in to keep herself from toppling out of the branch, some ten feet above the ground. Mostly, she just squeezed her knees around it and rode it out, like the world's worst roller coaster or something. It was just a nuisance, a distraction from the work at hand.

The journal Jude had given her was open on her lap. She'd taking some time to carefully sharpen and shape a piece of charcoal into something she could write with. Or, more accurately, draw with. Now she was using it to try to map out the clown rodeo.

Whenever there was something she didn't understand--and she didn't understand the fucking Skinner Box at all--Sam always found her best defense was to try to break it down into small digestible pieces.

And then digest the fucker.

As the quake subsided, she heard someone below and looked down to see a big, old bald head that she didn't recognize. In addition to her maps, Sam had always started a few pages of notes on the people stuck in the box with her. She didn't recognize this one. Newbie. Always fun.

She smiled down at him, her face framed by the synthetic curls of her wig. "Actually, there are plenty of dull moments. They just come pretty evenly spaced between the fuck-oh-fuck-what's-happening-help-help-help moments."

[enterprisingheart]

To his credit, he doesn't so much as bat an eye at either being addressed by someone who happens to be sitting in a tree or the color of her hair. True, there's no denying that blue isn't a commonly seen hair color, but for all that the young woman addressing him looks human, he has no way of telling if that's actually the case short of asking. Which strikes him as somewhat less than polite at the very least, and quite possibly a bit presumptuous besides.

"Is that so?"

There's nothing in his voice other than polite curiosity, too, for all that he can't help but raise an eyebrow at her comment. It's certainly not surprising that there might be quieter moments, but he has to say that Samantha's phrasing is certainly ... unique. Not inaccurate to at least the variety of crises that have come up during the course of his voyages thus far, no. But unique all the same.

[thegreatexperiment]

There was something about the raised eyebrow, the calm demeanor, and most especially the lack of immediate commentary about her hair that intrigued Sam. And kinda made her want to respect baldy. Of course, she knew better than to make snap judgments about anyone, especially on the basis of about eight seconds' worth of dialog. But she was starting to find that she needed to revise almost all of her rules here in the clown rodeo. Usually for worse. But occasionally for better.

"You ever heard of a Skinner Box?" she asked, giving a shrug of one shoulder. He seemed like the intellectual type. But that may just have been because he was bald and British. "Because, as far as I can tell, that's basically where you're standing, right now."

She shut her journal, tucking the piece of charcoal behind her ear. Her fingers were smeary with soot, but she didn't really care. She grabbed hold of the branch on either side of her hips and pulled her legs in to her chest, before sliding them down. She hung there for a second, before dropping to the earth in a fairly neat squat.

Back when she was a kid, her favorite way of getting down always started by hanging upside down from her knees. But she couldn't really pull that one off in her wig. It wouldn't fall off. The motherfucker was practically glued to her head. But it just looked so obvious.

[enterprisingheart]

She's not wrong to peg him as the intellectual type. Admittedly, it's only tangentially related to what he would otherwise be doing, but neither is it actually wrong. That said, the name doesn't ring any particular bells, either.

"I can't say that I am, actually. Or at least, not by that name."

There's still the possibility that the theory behind them is something that he's familiar with, of course. But just at the moment he doesn't address the fact. It might well come up, of course, but he'll leave that particular point up to Sam herself. For now, he simply watches as she drops down to the earth again, although there's the sense that it's mostly simply because looking away would have been strange - he'd have been perfectly content to continue the conversation had she remained where she'd been, but neither is he going to protest if she would rather come back down to earth.

Out & About.

[babyhunter]

Clary really didn't know what to think of this place. She had named the village Salem in her mind, the broken buildings and dreary feeling reminded her of a town where hundreds of girls burned at the stake plus the last 1600's didn’t feel too off given the lack of power. It probably wasn't the best name but the village was surprisingly less daunting with a name attached to it.

She wound her way through the houses, inspecting the ones that were broken that made it look as if she was searching for ghosts. Clary was naturally curious and not at all shy or hindered by the unknown. Looking through broken down houses wasn't nearly as scary as trying to get Simon out of the Hotel Dumort. However, the sudden earthquakes were a bit unsettling. After the last one, Clary abandoned her house search. She had no interest of being caught inside a precariously built building in the middle of an earthquake.

Clary caught sight of Picard when she stepped away from the nearest house. Her black scrubs made the orange fire of her hair appear more vibrant than usual while her lips twisted in an expression of uncertainty.

"You new too?" She was new at this whole survival thing and Brooklyn had pizza. She really missed pizza.

[enterprisingheart]

From what he's seen of the settlement thus far, Jean-Luc would have been inclined to agree that it was... not entirely what he'd consider normal. Likely for different reason than Clary, true. But either way he can't help but find it strange, and that alone would have him wanting to find out the true nature of the settlement. Add in the fact that he has more than one reason to want to find a way out and well, it's easy to see why he's a little restless.

(The fact that he's always been, a little, when he's forced to take a break doesn't hurt either, but it's not something that he even so much as consciously addresses.)

"To this particular settlement, yes," he answers with a nod. The overall situation itself isn't too far removed from some of those he's found himself in previously, even if the level of technology - or general lack thereof - is going to take some getting used to. But that, at least, is something that he figures doesn't need to come up just at the moment - odd though the situation might be, there is still the Prime Directive to consider. Assuming it even applies in this case, but he's not willing to give up on it just yet.

[babyhunter]

"Settlement? Are you from the 1800's or something?" She had head that some weird time bending magic was going on here but she hadn't expect it to be phrased exactly like that. Clary's bright green gaze scanned the village briefly before falling back on Picard. "Okay, no electricity, or communication or really anything. I get how settlement comes to mind but isn’t it more like a village or town or…" This really was a stupid time to argue semantics.

"You know what, never mind. It isn’t important." Clary waved a hand. She turned to look in the other direction; the rune burned into her neck more visible that it had been before. "I'm honestly more worried about the how we got here part."

Clary briefly fell into her thoughts, 'Maybe drugged… mass illusions or everyone could be dead and this is some strange unknown Purgatory. Fucking Twilight Zone. That or some sort of unfamiliar magic.' Clary had seen a lot recently but nothing that compared accurately to this experience.

[enterprisingheart]

There's a brief blink at the question, but that's the only pause before he's speaking up again.

"I'm not."

The question has come as something of a surprise, yes, and traces of that same surprise still linger in his voice. But neither is he going to dwell on that particular line of conversation any further. Even if he can't help but want to defend his choice of words.

"And I'd have to admit to also being concerned about we arrived here. Or were brought here."

He does notice the rune on her neck, as she turns to look the other way. But he figures that it's not his place to comment on it, given that it very much looks like it's been burned into place and even if it had been intentionally done it almost certainly can't have been comfortable besides.

out and about;

[repressings]

He's been fairly good, all things considering--he's trying to get out more, trying to be more sociable with people he doesn't know. The Credence six months ago would balk at the fact that he's making an effort--people inherently dislike him, and if they don't they'll all just disappear anyway--but there's only so much he can do in a small village like this.

There's another one, now. Another village. He's heard about it, whispers on the edge of his mind, and he has half a heart to go. That would be leaving Mr. Graves and Kira, though, and he doesn't want to do that. There's earthquakes now, too, and Credence is skittish by nature. Being trapped in a cave for three days because of one has only made it worse.

He's alone a path when it happens, a newer arrival--bald, how curious, he's never seen someone in this village bald before--passing his way. The shift is enough for him to stiffen and cry out, unsure and afraid for a brief moment.

Never a dull moment, the new one says, and Credence looks rather pained.

"I wish there was, sir. Certainly, that would be preferable."

[enterprisingheart]

For all that he's never met Credence before - has no idea, even, that someone else is nearby at first - that brief cry has him turning in Credence's direction without fail. Partly out of curiosity, yes, but a good deal also out of concern - there's a part of him that will perhaps always be inclined to help wherever possible, and it's only when he notices that Credence doesn't seem to have been anything worse than startled that he reigns in on the instinct to offer assistance.

Instead, he offers a polite - and friendly - smile.

"You don't need to call me sir. I'm not your commanding officer."

There's a pause there, as he casts about for a suitable response to the rest of Credence's comment, but it doesn't take him too long before he comes up with something.

"And I've heard something along those lines. But I'd be all ears if you were interested in sharing something of your experiences here?"

[repressings]

People in this village are very rude, Credence decides.

Maybe not rude, but certain more open. It's been drilled into him to say 'sir' and 'ma'am until he's blue in the face. But a lot of things have been drilled into him, a lot of them bad.

'Witches are evil' comes to mind. 'Condemn sinners' is another one. If this older gentleman wants him to not call him sir, than he won't. He's learning that it's no skin off of his back, at least here. The stranger seems polite, too. He says something but Credence doesn't answer his question right away, looking at him, hesitating. Instead, he says something completely irrelevant to any topic at hand:

"Are you dead?"

out & about

[learned_to_die]

The quakes have been unsettling for Ned, but the mind is nothing if not adaptable. When the tremors begin, he inserts himself into the nearest doorway (unsure, now, of where he'd heard the advice but grateful for it all the same), bracing himself on either side, palms pressed against the wood. He feels the biting sharpness of slivers digging into his skin, knowing he'll have to attempt to extract them later on, but something else steals his attention - namely, what appears to be a newcomer, looking a bit startled at the trembling underfoot.

In an instant, he's out of the doorway and making his way towards the man, whose hairless head cannot help but to remind Ned of Varys though there's nothing else about him to suggest a similarity. But by the time Ned reaches him, the quakes have stopped, and Ned steadies himself to allow for the vibrations in his skull to cease.

"That isn't the half of it," Ned replies to the man's statement, pressing a finger to his temple to ease the residual tremblings. "But it is the newest of the lot."

[enterprisingheart]

For all that Jean-Luc would likely have been able to whether the tremors on his own, neither can he say that he wouldn't have welcomed a hand all the same. Even if the tremors do stop before Ned manages to reach him. Still, the offer is appreciated and he waits patiently for Ned to finish steadying himself before he even so much as considers speaking.

"How new, if you don't mind me asking?"

There's a raised eyebrow to go with the question, and while there's certainly no reason to suspect that the seismic activity is cause for concern, he figures that it can't hurt to know exactly how recently they've started. Just in case they do turn out to be something worrying, in time.

[learned_to_die]

"A fortnight, perhaps a bit longer. It is .. difficult to say, as I do not track the days as steadfastly as I should. There are those here who do, however, and might be able to give you a more definitive answer, but I do not believe my answer to be wholly inaccurate," Ned replies thoughtfully. He returns his attention to the man, trying to ascertain as much information he can about him without being intrusive.

"You've only just arrived, have you not? Have you found the Inn yet? It is a good place to bring newcomers, as there is a hearth, food, and shelter. I can escort you there, should you desire."

Out and About

[pretendtoneedme]

"You should've been here last month." The voice comes from a man off to the side of the road in a clearing that looks like it used to have a building in it, considering the foundation and some bits of wood and stone that are still lining it. He's obviously working on something, tools around him and a pile of lumber pieces that jumped and shook in the rumbling, and he'd dropped to the ground and looped his hands over his neck to protect his spine when the shaking started. But since it was a mild one and nothing had seemed to fall over - this time - he's pushing himself back to his feet relatively quickly. After several weeks of shakes and quakes, Clint's practically started thinking of this place as California.

"That wasn't anything. First one nearly brought the place down." They've done a decent job cleaning it up and there hadn't been any terrible building damage, but that'd been sheer luck and Clint knows it. As it is, some of the crops had been destroyed, which was bad enough on its own considering they don't have much to work with. He's not seen the man commenting before, which means he has to be new; maybe he hasn't talked to everyone in the village, but he's been around long enough to recognize faces. "It did open up a fissure in the wall of the canyon - then the one after that caved it in, and the one after that cleared it up, sorta. I'll take what just happened over that kind of thing any day."

[enterprisingheart]

Sometimes luck is all one has to count on. Not that Jean-Luc is at all aware that Clint's thoughts are running along those lines, mind, though by his words he can at least guess that there has been some manner of luck involved. Perhaps not enough to avoid any sort of damage whatsoever but enough to at least keep damage relatively minimal. And in either case, he makes his way over to where Clint's working as soon as the tremors finish dying down.

"I can see how," he answers with a nod. "I can't imagine that an earthquake strong enough to create a fissure in a canyon wall would have been anything even remotely like enjoyable."

And while he's not actually going to come out and say as much, he is glad to have missed that particular occurrence. Not that he wouldn't have been able to weather the quake, or so he imagines, but neither is it something he can say that he's in a particular hurry to experience.

[pretendtoneedme]

No one had been in a hurry to experience it. Clint himself had been through earth shakes before, but nothing that big, although he'd seen the aftermath of a couple of that size in the past. It was actually somewhat better living in this village than, say, the city during am occurrence such as that, because there was simply too little stuff for everything to end up smashed into a giant pile. There could still be destruction, but it wasn't the large scale mess that Tokyo or San Francisco usually got in the wake of a really bad quake.

He doesn't blame the newcomer for not being around for the Big Shake; he'd have preferred to miss it himself, but he wasn't given that option. As it is, for now, Clint remains on his knees, reaching out to pick up various nails and other fasteners and return them to the small cup he'd purloined to be a collection zone. "We're trying to figure out a way to shore up that breach now, but materials are just what we can scrounge. We can't get anything like timbers to keep everything braced here; it's just make do with what you've got and deal as best as you can."