sixthiterationlogs | A Beautiful Mess

Huh, Owen thinks: so that's what that looks like. What a thing to be grateful of, that he'd woken up in in the unknown all alone, no one to see him swimming and sputtering, no one to see him stumble in the weight of wet, unfamiliar clothes. It's good to see things from the outside. Witnesses might be shit evidence, but they shed a kind of light on the world. They aren't so shit when you know how to think outside a thing--what else looks like an object being described, why might a person get the height or race wrong.

Perspective, and all that.

Perspective says it can't be any more fun to come out the fountain with that much hair, and Owen retreats up the path to the inn. The place isn't big enough for a drenched woman to disappear in the time it takes to grab a towel and one of the Snuggies from the closet, ridiculous as they are. Owen returns about the time she starts yelling at the trees, so--optimal timing.

She's wet, she's confused, and she has something worth being coerced into revealing to blame it on. Owen approaches slowly, the Snuggie over a shoulder, the towel like a flag of surrender draped over his arms. "Miss? I don't even count myself the messenger in this situation, but if you could avoid shooting me, I can try to explain what's going on."

Inara was starting to get very mad. First she'd been dumped unconscious into a fountain and now whoever had taken her was completely ignoring her. She wasn't rightly sure why they would act in such a way, but they seemed to need a handbook on how to properly kidnap people. So she was not only getting mad but she was also beginning to feel very frustrated.

She whipped around hearing someone speaking and her eyebrows drew together. She stared at him and then looked around because he didn't exactly look like who she'd be expecting to try and kidnap her because of business dealings with Mal. He didn't exactly look like the type of person who would have associated himself with Mal, but what did she know?

Obviously not one thing.

Her eyes narrowed a bit and then took a step towards him. He had a towel and something thrown over his shoulder. "What exactly can you tell me?" She didn't have any weapons but she didn't think he knew that so she wasn't about to say anything about that. "What planet is this?"

Why did he and Rene have to put away that bottle of whiskey so quickly? He could have used some for questions like what planet is this, and it probably helped a great deal in turning panicked arrivals into new friends. Instead, all he has is a towel and a blanket with sleeves.

He's dealt with hostile women before--more hostile than this, really--but he'd had some handle of those situations, and he'd had his life on its measured and logical path to return to whatever the outcome. "I hadn't really thought to ask that myself," he says, sparing the trees around them only a moment's look. If she's anything like the other arrivals, she doesn't have anything in that pack that can do him any harm, but he knows what hands--and fingernails--can do in a pinch. "Mostly because it looks like places I've been on Earth, if that's anything to you."

Here's fucking hoping. "I came up out of that not even a week ago," he adds. "And I don't have half the hair you're contending with." Flipping the towel over to one arm, he gathers it in a scoop and twist of his hand, holding it out for her. "Everyone here claims to have come out of that fountain at some point, and unless a very large group of them are lying, we've never seen the people responsible."

"Earth?"

She stared at him trying to figure out if he was joking. Everyone knew that Earth had been all used up centuries before and hadn't been lived on for just as long. She looked around, almost as if she was waiting for someone to pop out and yell 'Gotcha!', but no one did and she looked back to the young man, her eyebrows furrowing even more.

But maybe it would be best to just move right along because she didn't find any of this very amusing and him bringing up Earth was just disturbing.

Inara sighed and her gaze moved to the towel he was holding out to her. For a moment, she didn't move but as the water kept dripping down into her eyes, she finally reached out and took the towel from him. "Thank you," she said ever as polite as she normally was. Even in this strange situation she wasn't about to let go of things that made her who she was.

"Everyone? I don't quite understand how that would be possible. How... How bringing me, or us all here is possible..."

"I don't even know why Earth isn't the only answer to your question, so, count all of this well beyond my experience." The work he takes up wears him out enough to sleep at night, whichever side of the canyon wall he's found himself on by nightfall--but in the mornings he has to find the threads. Has to take it up again, focusing on a task or a question, just to keep his head on straight.

Dull moments where his mind can wander away from those questions, away from the beginnings of patterns--those'll be the death of him.

This woman, she doesn't have any of that yet. Just the first few questions, no answers, and from the sound of it a context completely removed from his own. "Where and when I'm from," he adds, trying to offer what he can, "Earth is the only planet anyone's from. Some folks have a plan to live on Mars, but I don't know how far along that's gotten."

"You're making the hair work." The voice comes from well above and to her right. Taako's taken to hauling himself up into trees, mostly out of boredom, a little out of paranoia. Without anyone here he trusts or any defenses from magic, without even a way to check out his surroundings with anything more useful than his own eyes and ears, being a little harder to get at seems prudent.

The compliment is at least a sincere one, and clearly heartfelt, given his own hair is three feet long even braided and hanging over one shoulder, and the lack of tending is already bugging him. The texture has never been what you'd call cooperative. It's long enough that the weight alone takes care of some of its more bizarre tricks, but no matter what he tries, little curls and cowlicks are escaping. It can only get worse.

"what?" Inara looked around her, trying to place the voice but didn't see anyone at first. At least not until she looked up. Her eyebrows drew together seeing the delicate looking male that was perched up in a tree. She had no idea why he was up in the tree and while she was curious she didn't see how it was her place to ask why he did things since she didn't even know him.

"Ah, thank you," she finally said, her hand lifting up to self consciously try and pat the wayward curls back into place. "I can't say that I agree with you but thank you all the same." She preferred not looking like a wild woman but, alas that's all she was able to do with her hair at the moment.

Now she might have thought originally not to ask him about his current location but she couldn't exactly help herself when she finally let loose with her question. "Is there a particular reason that you're up in a tree?"

"High ground. And I was bored." He swings around to peer down at her more carefully, vulturine in his position as he braces himself on a few different branches. He's already altered his own scrubs into a wrap skirt and off-the-shoulder drapey top, making the silhouette even odder. "Really, it's not ideal, obvs, but you're pulling it off. I'm about to give up on mine. Doesn't look good." He flicks the curly end of his thick braid, seeing nothing good in its future.

"So you climb trees when you're bored?" Well if that's what he did, it was his own business. It was a little odd, but still his business. But him being in the tree really wasn't the oddest part of this whole conversation. Her hair wasn't exactly something she was use to talking about with others. Her eyebrows lifted slightly as she watched him. "It looks alright. The braid seems to be a good idea."

"It's a stopgap. There's already some split end situations going on that hurt my feelings." But he does preen a little. It's one thing to know you're the hottest thing in the room and another to have passers by confirm the idea. "What's your story?"

Thanks to the wealth of peaches on the other side of the village, Peggy's now got a decent amount of product in her arms that she needs to do something with. Jam would be the best thing, but she's lacking a few of the products she thinks she needs to preserve it for long-term use, though even short term would be quite handy. Peach pie and peach cobbler are also lovely things and she thinks she remembers some supplies being in the bakery.

In the course of her journey, she's managed to keep most of the peaches held secure in an old blanket that she's converted into a carrier. Unfortunately, as she passes the woman wandering, her grip on it begins to slip and a hole begins to tear, sending the peaches spilling around the woman's ankles. "Hold on a moment!" she calls, with mild alarm. "Don't step, you might end up with something squishy under your shoe."

Just when she was thinking that things in her life couldn't possibly get any worse, she missed the woman's warning by just a fraction of a second. As a result, Inara stepped down on something that was indeed squishy. She shut her eyes, mentally trying to compose herself because truly, this was not suppose to be her life.

She was suppose to be on Sihnon teaching. Being comfortable in her own clothing and with food that a cooking staff made. Not all of whatever the strange village gave her, or in most cases, didn't give her.

Exhaling, Inara opened her eyes and swung her attention over to the woman who was apparently carrying what looked like peaches in an old blanket. "Thank you, but too late." She looked down at her foot and sighed as she carefully stepped to the side.

Peggy winces when the woman manages to step on one of the peaches, which has been on the riper side of things. It's a good thing that the boots are hardly high fashion, as Peggy can only imagine stepping on one of those in her heels. "Sorry," she says, with an apologetic look on her face, though she does feel as if that reaction is a bit much for one fallen peach.

She bends to pick up some of the others that have toppled out so that it won't happen again. "If you want, I've got a few towels we can use to wipe off the worst of the juice," she offers. "We can give them a good scrubbing later."

Perhaps her reaction was a bit much, but truly, she was lucky she wasn't completely losing it. But stepping on the peach wasn't the worst, it was just a small annoyance in a week that had gone completely wrong for her.

"No, it's fine," Inara said with a small smile as she crouched down and picked up a few stray peaches. She held them out to the woman. "It's just been a long couple of days and I'm still trying to regain my bearings." She fell quiet for a moment and then once all the peaches were gathered, she gracefully rose up. "But, thank you for offering even though I should have been watching where I was going."

Peggy shifts the peaches so that she can reach out and take the ones being offered to her, beginning to understand that this isn't just a situation of someone having a hard day, but someone who doesn't even know how many hard days are ahead. Not wanting to ruin the day with that, Peggy simply offers her a smile.

"Would you like to walk with me to the inn? We can split one of them and eat it, rather than simply step on them. I'm very good at lending an ear, if you'd like to talk," she offers. "I might even be able to offer some help?" she adds, in the event she has questions.

Inara's expression was one that she recognized, having felt much the same when she arrived in the unpleasant and unflattering scrubs. Women used to something else were obvious, wearing a look of distaste, prominent beneath the normal shock and uncertainty that this place inspired. It had only been until the Observers granted her fabric that she was able to set aside the clothing that they had insisted bringing them in.

Seated on her porch, mending the hem of one of her gowns, she leaned forward to call out to Inara. "Did you just arrive?" A question she knew the answer to. She hadn't seen the woman about the village and her face was one that she would recognize. Beauty had a way of standing out.

"Come, sit with me and gather your bearings." She had no answers to offer her, but she had company and that might at least ease her nerves...so she hoped.

It wasn't often that Inara felt jealous of another female, in fact she could count on one hand the amount of times it had happened to her. But seeing the young woman wearing something that wasn't the hideous scrubs, it just about had her seeing green. But, she managed to keep that envy to herself.

She smiled slightly at her and nodded her head. "I have, just the other day." She glanced around and then with a sigh, turned back to her and headed up the five steps that lead to the porch. Her gaze flickered from the dress to the woman and her smile grew a bit. "Is it so obvious that I'm new?" she asked before taking the seat next to her. Automatically her hands moved to sooth over what should have been the material of her own dress but feeling the cotton under her palms, she frowned and quickly folded her hands on her lap.

"I'm Inara... Thank you for inviting me to sit with you."

The scrubs were truly hideous. Inara's envy was one Lucrezia understood and had shared. Witnessing Queenie in something other than the hideous clothes they arrived with had frustrated her. It wouldn't be long before Inara received a gift of her own. The Observers seemed to enjoy lulling the newly arrived into a false sense of contentment, even if it was in small ways.

"The village isn't large enough that you can be lost in a crowd." It was nothing like Rome or even Giovanni's palazzo. It was small and humble, something she never thought she would live. "The newly arrived all have a similar look. The sort where you cannot believe where you are and desperately hoping it is a dream."

She grinned, tipping her head. "Of course." Her eyes cast down to Inara's scrubs, then to her gown and finally to Inara's face. "I have a bit of fabric left, if you would like something else to wear?"

Perhaps it was petty to hate her clothing as much as she did since there appeared to be so many other things to hate about where she was. But, she couldn't rightly help it. She'd never in her life had to wear anything like them, not even before she'd been a Companion. She'd been born to wealth and had always enjoyed silky fabrics that had been turned into beautiful dresses for her.

Inara chuckled. "I suppose it's hard not to look like that when all you're wishing for is that this is all a dream." She leaned back in the chair and shook her head. "It's hard to believe a place like this can exist." She still didn't understand how it could but she guessed that it didn't matter at all if she did or not.

Her eyes widened and her gaze dropped to the fabric for a moment and she was sorely tempted to take her up on her offer. But, surely she had other dresses she could make with that bit of material. "That is perhaps the kindest offer I've had since arriving," she said as she brought her gaze back up. "But you don't have to give me the last of your fabric, it's yours and it doesn't seem right to take it from you. But, truly, thank you for the offer."

"I thought it was as well and still do sometimes." She chuckled, looking down for a moment at her hands. They were still soft as before, but how long until that changed? Beauty was valued in her life, but there wasn't much to find in this world. It was hard and rough, work she had never known or experienced. If it was a dream, it was taking too long to wake.

She pressed the fabric towards Inarra again. "Truly, you may have it. I have enough gowns for now and there will come a time when I will have more. I don't want to be extravagant. You will need it more than I do." There were only the scrubs and those could be worn down quickly, she imagined.

"Think of it as a means to make your arrival easier."

Clary was wearing a pair of tight blue jeans and a light colored tank top. She had gone through everything available at the inn and had picked out a spare sent of clothes that weren't the scratchy black fabric of her scrubs. The scrubs weren't completely uncomfortable, in that they pants were elastic, but Clary didn't really care for them. It made her feel like she was a patient in an insane asylum or something equally morbid.

She usually spent her time drawing, training or attempting to help around the inn but today she was headed towards the hot springs. She had a towel slung over her shoulder and a piece of flower scent soap in her hand. Clary went to the hot springs every other day to rinse off. It kept her skin smooth, her hair silky and her sanity from cracking. Having Isabelle here with her helped but she didn't completely enjoy her forced vacation.

She paused when she spotted Inara, her bright green eyes looking from the woman's hair, to the expression on her face. "Hey, are you lost?" She looked lost and while it might be a stupid question, Clary didn't think so. You could know exactly where you were and still feel lost.

Inara hadn't realized that perhaps she carried an air of being lost around her. But, under the circumstances, it was probably very normal. She wasn't use to being in a place where she had no way out of it. She wasn't use to the type of clothing she'd been given and she wasn't use to being somewhere where she didn't know anyone.

She offered the young girl a slight smile before she glanced around quickly. "Does it show that much?" She'd wandered around so much lost in her thoughts that she didn't rightly know where she was at. She had tried to keep track of the direction she was going in but now that she had stopped, she realized that no, she had no idea where she was.

Her gaze moved back to the redhead and her eyebrows lifted a bit as she took in the girl's attire. While it wasn't anything Inara would wear, she couldn't help but feel a stab of envy at the girls clothing. But still, her smile never once wavered.

"I... I'm not really sure where I am. I was just looking around because I'd heard that there might be some empty houses..."

Clary nodded her head. "There are. Finding one that isn't damaged is a little harder but they're there. I'm actually running to the hot springs to wash up but I can help you look around when I'm done." The hot springs were the only thing that was keeping Clary's hair silky and smooth.

Her head turned towards the path before looking back at Inara. If she was new then she might not know about the inn or the other things that were available to her. "Oh. Um... if you go to the storage closest at the inn there are spare clothes there. If you don't like the..." She waved her arms to indicate Inara's torso. "-scrubs."

There was also food there but Clary assumed that Inara already knew that.

"And the bulletin board has a run down of what people know here and things that have happened." That was the quick quick run down that Clary could offer.

A Beautiful Mess

fountain

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In town

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around town

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Around Town

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Around Town

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