sixthiterationlogs

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WHO: Elrond
WHERE: Fountain
WHEN: June 18th
OPEN TO: Claire Temple
WARNINGS: N/A, will update if it changes

It began innocently enough, the fading of music and song, until there was nothing but silence and if not for the simple fact that the warmth of the fire also faded, he might have thought naught of it. Yet, with the abrupt absence of the warmth of the fire, there is sudden weight resting against him as if someone or thing had decided to rest upon his back. His back is not the only part of him to feel as if a weight is bearing down upon it and as he sought to pull up and away from the feeling of such heavy restraint, confusion became further rampant.

It is apparent that he is no longer within the familiar hall he'd been within but moments prior, though how he'd been taken from it and dumped beneath some body of water was an unnerving mystery. Whom or whatever was responsible it would seem had sought to hinder his escaping it easily, given the restraints holding whatever weight that rested upon him. It takes more effort than it rightfully should to break the surface and pull himself free of the water. He can only hope that there is nothing around that might attack him as he seeks to regain both breath and sight, one hand endeavoring to untangle his hair from around his face and neck.

While there appeared to be nothing about that would present an immediate threat to him, he was instead presented with even more questions than he'd had prior. The more he observed, the more the mystery grew. It was more than the strange surroundings that he'd never seen the like of before, more than the light-weight clothing and strange footwear he'd been seemingly forced into, there was something inherently very wrong now. While he hadn't yet managed to single out why that feeling was weighing nearly as heavy upon him as the weight his back bore, he both feared and hoped that time would reveal the answer.

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Passing the fountain during that part of the day wasn't usually planned, but that's what Claire was doing when she heard the unmistakable sounds of water splashing and someone gasping for air as soon as they breached the surface. There had been a number of people arriving as of late, though no one that she knew personally. Part of her was happy about that, yet there was a sadness, too.

As she slowly approaches, Claire is immediately shocked by the height of the guy and that there is something very different about him in comparison to the others she's helped straight out of the fountain. She notes he's also not the standard level of confused most are upon arriving. Then again, the last guy was, too, and she ended up being held by the throat with a metal hand.

She stops a few yards away and shows her hands to signal she's of no danger to him.

"I know you have a thousand questions and I will do my best to answer them." She motions she's going to come closer. "First things first. My name is Claire and that bag on your back has some dry clothes in it."

Rain was very possible, as it had been for the last few days.

The fact that he'd not heard the woman's approach was silently worrying, and the woman herself looks just as unfamilar and unusual as his location. The sigil she gives him prior to speaking is familiar enough however. The promise of the attempt to answer his questions is even appreciated and he quietly notes the name given; it's not a name he's ever heard before which seems fitting, yet one more thing to let him know he's far from home.

At least now he knew what the weight against his back was, though the question of how it had gotten there remained. "This isn't the first time you've found people like this I take it?" He said, even as he reached up with intent to try pulling the pack off.

A task made more complicated by the fact that part of his hair was caught bout the straps. There was a small hope that what he'd been wearing had been stored in the bag, but there was also doubt that whatever had placed him in this situation would give him that token of comfort and familiarity.

Claire watches for a few short moments before leaning to the side to see if he was making progress. Seeing that he wasn't, she steps closer. "Can I help," she asks, motioning vaguely before deciding that he wouldn't do the same thing Bucky did.

"And yeah, everyone here has come out of that fountain at least once. Some two or three times."

When he allows her to, Claire notices the hair tangled and does her best to unravel it on both sides before sliding the pack down. It's also at the same time that she notices the ears on the tall man and in half a second, she realizes the man is straight out of a fairy tale.

Slowly she comes around and holds the bag up, her expression slightly awed, but mostly intrigued.

"Do you have a name?"

Elrond briefly shifted his gaze from his efforts to the woman as she spoke again, giving her a short nod of permission in response the request. It's a relief when the bag finally leaves his shoulders and back, though it doesn't appear to help the fit of the shirt he's wearing.

His gaze follows her as she comes around and holds the bag up, one eyebrow rising slightly as he studies it for a moment, also noting Claire's expression. He's also quietly intrigued, even if his discomfort is marring what might otherwise be a curious wonder. He reached for the bag even as he answered her question.

"Elrond."

One look at him says he really shouldn't be in the scrubs that everyone arrives with. That's obviously someone's sense of humour working double time and Claire genuinely feels bad for the man. Especially since this is obviously his first time in a world other than his own, as it was hers. And she was still trying to get used to it.

At his name, Claire gives a slow nod. It wasn't anything she'd heard before, but there was the name Elwood that was sort of close (no, not really beyond the first two letters).

As the bag leaves her hand, she looks at him curiously. "Any titles come with that?"

Because this was an elf who carried one hell of a regalness to him.

He examined the bag as he was given it back, but it would appear he wasn't quite done yet in adding to his list of different mysteries present in this unknown land. The bag was nothing he'd seen the like of before now and really the only similarities to the packs he was familiar with was the fact it was a fabric bag with two straps attached to it.

He had his doubts that his titles, past or present, would mean a thing, yet perhaps Claire's reaction or lack of would give him answers regardless. Thus he answered while he sought out just how one was to open this strange bag. "Yes. I've been called many things in the ages I've lived. I've been called half-elven, Vice-regent and herald of Gil-galad, loremaster, healer and Lord of Rivendell."

There was one other title, but he left it unsaid, and yet the thought of it pulled his attention from the mystery of how to get into the bag to the hands holding it and a deep frown marred his expression as he realized that his clothes and circlet had not been the only items he'd lost.

"What robs us of our accouterments? I bore a ring that is vitally important that I retrieve if possible."

Edited 2018-06-19 00:46 (UTC)

Well, if there wasn't much of a reaction this far, Claire's involuntary deadpan expression the next time Elrond looked up would betray her in the most horrible of ways.

Did he say ages he lived?

And even while that was happening, Claire was subconsciously aware of the trouble the elf was still having. Even before he said anything, she shook herself out of the disbelief of trying to guess just how old he might be. If she did find out his true age, that would be an entirely different reaction.

"Um, right. There's a zipper.." She looked up at him. "A long fastener to keep things closed."

Did that make more sense?

"Also, that ring? Probably not here. No one seems to have arrived with any personal belongings."

Edited 2018-06-19 02:07 (UTC)

Yes, he had indeed said ages, though perhaps the word might mean something different to those not from Arda. If she ever cared to actually ask him outright about his age, he'd likely tell her as he saw no real reason not to reveal it yet.

The first word she used had meant nothing to him, but at her elaboration, he began to look some sign of a fastener as he replied to her last statement.

"Does anyone know where those belongings go? Are they left behind back whence we came or lost within the Void?"

"Ages" definitely didn't mean as long as Elrond likely thought it did. But it was still a stretch of time that was almost unfathomable to Claire without even knowing how long he was actually talking about. Still, she's not sure she should ask for fear of tripping over her own chin.

"I wish I could tell you for sure, I'm sorry." she apologized for sincerely. "The only jewelry you own now is that device on your wrist. I'm going to assume you have never seen anything like that before and you're probably not going to like this, but you can't take it off."

Elrond accepted the apology silently, deciding that he'd hope for the best scenario in his mind, namely that it was left behind in Rivendell. There were people there he trusted to find and keep Vilya safe and hidden while keeping Rivendell itself also safe.

The mention of the device on his wrist dragged his attention to it, turning the wrist it was attached to so as to better examine it. Given he saw no seam or sign of fastening upon its band, he took her at her word about its removal being impossible. Though it was no doubt apparent by the narrowing of his eyes as he studied it, that he was far from pleased at this development.

"I have indeed not seen the like of this...thing. What is it for? Does something here seek to draw us in and bind us to its whim with this accessory?"

That's all any of them can do, really. So Claire only nods and watches him try and get his bearings which may look like he does. For someone who is an elf, brand new out of the fountain and from a place that obviously has no tech beyond maybe some water mills. The device on his wrist is most likely unfathomable to him, among other things.

At his questions, she winces. He may have hit the nail on the proverbially head there.

"Mostly communication between all of us here in the village. At least that's what we realized they could do when we got here. As far as your other questions, maybe? We've come to realize this place has a number of mysteries to it that aren't easy to solve. Namely why some are different colours than others."

Claire raises her light grey band to show it to him.

Well, that was certainly interesting to note. He'd already noted his own was the same color as the cloth he was clothed in. It was entirely possible the colors were used by whatever power that has dragged them here, robbed them of not only their garments, but whatever else they might have had on them before forcing them into unfamiliar clothing as well as placing irremovable items upon their person.

As Claire had succiently put it, 'a number of mysteries' indeed. Though he note that expression of hers as he'd asked his question. It could be entirely possible he was quite correct in his guess as to the bands true purpose beyond mere communication between the people brought here. He would wait and observe before he drew any further conclusions about it.

"How many are here? What else can you tell me of this place?"

None of them could know for certain if the wrist devices had a tracking feature on them. Why wouldn't they? The place they were last was what many decided was a dream, given the way they came through the fountain looking like mountain people who'd been asleep for a couple of years. Others were pretty well convinced they were clones.

Not that that was any better.

She thinks about that for a second, long enough to get a rough estimate for him. "I'd say about 50, give or take a couple. You're about the fourth or fifth new person in short of a week though. So something is changing. What?"

Claire shakes her head.

Looking towards the inn again, she gestures over her shoulder. "I have a house close-by. How about you change into some dry clothes and I'll tell you the rest of what I know."

Edited (fixing tense) 2018-06-30 03:24 (UTC)

Fifty. On one hand, it wasn't too large a number. On the other, it still was a sizable number, enough to make up a small village at least. Especially, given there were still people being brought. What could the power that dragged them here want with enough people to make up a small village? Why separate them from their belongings and yet grant them strange new ones in return?

Elrond followed her gaze toward the large building that was possibly an inn of some kind, and nodded in agreement with the suggestion within the statement, gesturing shortly after for her to lead the way. Even if the answers he got only served to fuel more questions and mysteries, it would be good to shed the ill-fitting and wet clothing he was currently forced to endure. If fortune favored him, there would be more favorable clothing within the odd pack to change into. If it chose not to, well, at least he would be drier in whatever it did offer him.

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