open | she'll always be seventeen; that girl has love

[morphogenia]

WHO: Kamala Khan
WHERE: Fountain, Inn, around the village(s)
WHEN: June 21-23
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Near-drowning, mentions of potential death scenarios and horror game elements

---

Fountain-

It feels like a dream at first. Who wakes up underwater without a clue as to how they got there? Anime heroines. Maybe she fell asleep while streaming something, she thinks. Ammi will be mad at her for being wasteful again. It is a short-lived reflection. Kamala quickly focuses on holding her breath once the common-sense kicks in. Now isn’t the time for daydreaming. The unpleasant burn from water filling her nose and ears makes this real enough to take seriously. She pinches her nose with her thumb and index finger to be safe. Precious seconds tick by as she thinks about what she should do. The obvious answer is kick her way to the surface. She might have done it any other time. She knows her own strength. She can take whatever is waiting for her at the surface except for one thing. That is what holds her back. The last time she woke up in a strange place, seemingly unbeatable monsters ripped you bit by bit for making a sound. It is possible they took her back somehow and she ended up in the wrong spot like the others did in that dust storm.

Her heart fills with dread. She needs to shrink. It will minimize the sound; give herself a shot at survival. She closes her eyes and wills it to happen. There is no soft glow or weird sensation that comes with her cells rapidly responding to her will. Okay now she’s panicking. Her heart beats rapidly in her chest as she prays for her body to respond. Go small. It is our best chance. The only response is her lungs burning for air. She must ask herself some very hard questions quickly. Is it selfish to go up there knowing she is going to make noise and get whoever is nearby killed? Is it better to drown than be ripped limb from limb? She must decide which is the least selfish way to die.

In the end, her Ammi decides for her. She can hear her scream for her beta. Maybe this is all a bad dream. She is scaring Ammi with this behavior again. Kamala kicks hard until she reaches the surface and hangs onto the side of the fountain like a lifeline. Water pours from her nose, mouth, and ears as she struggles to breathe. She doesn’t know what will happen next. Will her mother pull her into her arms? Will a monster kill her? The only thing she can control is the need to get air into her lungs. She vomits water along the side to accommodate that need.

Eventually her body starts to settle. The spots behind her eyes fade as oxygen reaches her brain. She looks around, visibly disoriented. Neither outcome has happened. No monsters or mother to greet her. This place isn’t Reims. Is it one of the cities mentioned by the others? Somehow the bugs are still alive there in that case. Kamala has no way of knowing why or how of any of this. She can only proceed cautiously.

Every move is painful to her. She flinches at every slosh of water, at her feet when the touch the ground, and the weight on her back that doesn’t belong there. The clothes, hunter green scrubs of all things, that do not belong to her make noise as she moves. The water dripping from her hair and body does too. She wants to cry. Why not when everything is working against her? At least it will make her feel better. She quickly shoves the thought away. She needs to be brave like that boy who had the creatures running past him and never made a sound. She needs to try even if it feels like she is doomed to fail because of things outside her control.

She moves her soaked hair close to her chest to minimize the dripping noise and very slowly starts to walk. The terror and determination are plain to see on her face as she advances with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Any direction is better than no direction. Proceed with caution when approaching the soaking wet teenager since she is visibly spooked by whatever noise you will make.

Inn –

There is a party outside. People are making noise like it is a given. Kamala is so exhausted by her fear and near-death experience at this point that she doesn’t even try to stop them. She thinks back to her conversation with Frank suddenly. It is difficult to figure out what is real and not. Her answer was so simple yet sincere. It doesn’t matter if you are with the people you love. Her family isn’t here. Nakia and Bruno are not here. It is so exhausting to be strong without them again, she thinks. The fire ahead of her looks comforting even if it is noisy like the people outside. She takes off her backpack and curls in front of it like a child. She just wants to sleep for a while. Why not when everything is already so dangerous? She pulls the backpack into her arms and pretends it’s her sloth as she drifts to sleep.

Whenever someone tries to wake her or comes to close, Kamala quietly asks the same thing without fail. “How can you tell when something is real or not?” Maybe she’s getting a fever. This was not one of her better plans.

Wildcard -

Kamala will be wandering around until she starts to get an idea of what is happening here. Feel free to encounter her around the village or villages as she figures out what exactly is happening here. This can be anywhere from her first through third day. Obviously after the first day she will be in a less depressing state so I would recommend then!

Comments

Fountain

[underpinnings]

When Owen came through the fountain, it was with moose bellowing to one side, a cow shoving him in the chest--an entire community of people come through before him, lending hands and taking stock. One big group in a single day--the fountain part still doesn't make any sense, but he liked the rush more than the trickle that followed.

The trickle, he's told, is normal.

What he doesn't like about the day to day is how he has to wonder if it means something, that they're coming more often. Will another group come through, claiming to have lived for years in a simulation? Will anyone ever come with news of his world, his past--or, not even news, but an understanding of his point of view? He's more a part of this community than he has been to any group in a long time, but it doesn't feel like his. There's a gap to get across, and he isn't inclined to bridge it.

But he is inclined to watch the fountain. Who comes through, where they're from, what threats they carry on their person or in their intentions. The girl is young, clearly having a rough time of it. Her silence sits with him, walks alongside his own, as he circles the edge quietly and observes on approach. He had been her age, when he'd been liberated from his military training. He'd known how to move with that caution.

She isn't his enemy, or even really a target, though. Owen lets a footfall settle badly on the concrete beneath a bench, a scrape of sound to announce his presence before she catches him in her periphery. Maybe he should have sent word to Karen: he's a strange man, approaching a young girl in a tense situation.

And he's never really gotten the welcome speech down. She looks scared enough already, he puts his hands up in the usual signal of peaceful approach--and stops actually approaching. "It's warm enough you can probably stay that way if you want," he suggests, voice calm and even, "but do you want help getting somewhere dry and working out what's happened?"

[morphogenia]

Kamala freezes like a frightened rabbit. She turns to him very slowly. She isn't exactly sure which is more afraid of: the noise he is making or the fact that a strange man is approaching her when her powers aren't working. He does what he can to show he's come in peace. Kamala is inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt because of it. She's soaking wet, the size of a child, and completely alone. He doesn't have to get her to lower her guard. She's an easy target.

"I..." Kamala whispers before looking around. Nothing is coming. Does this mean they're safe? "Yes? Where are we?"

[underpinnings]

Owen looks around with her--not to pinpoint what she's looking at, but to make sure nothing else is coming this way that might send her back into a fright. It's late enough, most people are eating at the Inn or settling into their homes, and the local fauna has trailed off.

He left Kero with dinner at the house, well away from the fountain. Nobody needs an alien creature greeting them in those first moments, he already learned that the hard way.

Not needing to get closer yet, he doesn't. The Inn is the obvious place to take her, but the crowd for dinner might be a bit much as well. He'll just take his time: he's not afraid to find his way home in the dark. "We're not anywhere I could point out on a map," he replies, lowering his hands to his sides. "Continent I've never been on, low tech except for these." He raises his arm, showing the teal band to match the green on her wrist. "Whole community of us who came out of that fountain, just like you. We're still figuring it out, but we've got food, shelter, and you're safer than you might think, right now."

[morphogenia]

Kamala glances at the wrist watch and notes the difference in color from his. She files all the information away carefully. She can handle low tech. She's lived in literal ruins before. She can handle this too even if it's concerning. She frowns deeply at him. Community is always a good thing. It's great to hear the first word on this place is that everyone is working together. Safety though.... She knows she can't let this go any further without getting to the point.

She continues to whisper her questions. "Where are-" Wrong question. She's assuming they are in the same place as before. Stupid. Shouldn't she of all people know there's so much craziness beyond planet Earth? Reims, France didn't even begin to cover it. "Have you ever heard of something called a Sound Eater? It's a monster that attacks anything that makes noise."

[underpinnings]

In changing track, she at least asks a question Owen can answer. No one's given him a name for the village, and no one seems inclined to name the continent they're slowly discovering.

It's also a question that makes incredible sense, for her actions and for--his own experience. They called them clickers back home, but who knows what they're called in other countries. Who knows what all the little cults and communes across the map told the kids, to explain the monsters in their world. To convince them to keep quiet when one moved into the area, or when a runner advanced to that stage.

"Something like that, yeah. Aggressive, blind so they hunt with sound." She's still dripping on the dusty grass, but he can tell this is more important. "Having encountered anything like it, here. Worst thing I've seen is a badger on some kind of adrenaline from an insect bite. Knocked over a tree." Which had been about as loud as things got, around here, and nothing had been drawn in to attack the villagers.

[morphogenia]

This is the best thing she could have heard right now. The relief on Kamala's face is impossible to dismiss. She even breathes better afterward. It's like a weight off her chest. After all, why would he lie? He doesn't look like a man with a deathwish. "I'm glad. I don't know if I could have lived with myself if I had drawn them to the people here."

She really couldn't have. Kamala is very protective of all life. She shakes her head in amusement. "Don't get me wrong. The insect bite is concerning, but one problem at a time." She offers up a gentle smile. "Thank you."

Inn/Party

[thestarlord]

There's something about this girl that pulls at a place in Peter that he doesn't like to think about, much less discuss, but there it is. She looks lost and out of place and he feels like he's looking at himself about fifteen years earlier.

Shit.

When she's curled up on her bag and says something about real or not, Peter decides he'll speak up.

"Hey, for me? I like to just pretend that everything's a fantasy until proven otherwise. Usually works out okay."

[morphogenia]

Kamala blinks up at him. That actually isn't the worst advice she's gotten. That nap has actually done a lot to recharge her. She sits up, ready to end her pity party for now. "So I should pretend this is a weird fantasy movie?" She leans against the nearest surface, humming thoughtfully. "Like what kind? The kind of dark 80s kind? Or the more upbeat late 90s/early 2000s kind?" Unfortunately she forgot one of the most important rules of waking up in a weird place: no one knows your references. Whoops? She'll catch herself later.

[thestarlord]

"I don't know anything after about 83, myself, but if you want to pretend this is Star Wars, go for it. Anything you want. You get to be the star of your own action film," Peter says. It's possibly a juvenile way of coping but he has found it works for him and maybe the method doesn't have to be the most mature. Maybe it just has to be the one that works.

"Point is, this place? No telling why we're here or how to get out, from my limited experience with it. I say roll with it and take each day as it comes. If you dwell on it and nothing changes, you're just going to be miserable."

[morphogenia]

It sounds silly and romantic to Kamala. She doesn't think she could actually follow the advice he's giving her, but she gets it. She appreciates it deeply. It still doesn't cease to amaze her the way some people step up when these things happen. There are parts of it she can use. That last part especially seems important to remember. There is one problem with it though. As long as Peter is in the mood to give advice, she has to ask it.

"What do you do about the people you're missing?" Which is kind of assuming a lot on her part. She knew so many people in Reims, France who literally had no one worth going home to. She needs to rephrase that. "Are there people you should be with right now too?"

[thestarlord]

"I have a family. It's not the one I was born to," Peter says, thinking of the other Guardians, but they are his family all the same. He doesn't think he'd count anyone else as family unless his Mom came back.

"They're all really capable people. I know they can take care of themselves even if I'm not there. I miss them like crazy? But I know they're probably all right."

Inn

[fwips]

This girl is definitely new. Peter doesn't keep up with who shows up when, really, but this girl is definitely new simply because she's a girl. There's only one other around his age in this place, so she kind of sticks out even without deciding to take a nap on the lawn.

He gently shakes her shoulder, wonders if anybody's told her where she can find an actual bed to sleep in, then falters at her question.

"Um," he begins, and then gives up with a shrug. "Sometimes you can't. I just try to look at things logically even if they seem crazy— Are you okay?"

[morphogenia]

She lets out a soft sigh... or yawn. Who can say with this one? He looks perfectly nice for someone who crashed her sad and really overwhelmed naptime so she doesn't immediately bite his head off. She knows when someone means well. It's pretty much her every other day but, this one. "That's such a Bruno answer." Which means it is a good one for the record. She pauses for a second as she wonders if it is really okay to unload on this unsuspecting person. She should probably save that for Frank except she told him he didn't have to be everything anymore. This guy is asking the question. Peter is getting the honest answer whether he wants to or not.

"Not really. I got kidnapped and separated from my family again. I almost drowned earlier because I thought horrible monsters might rip me apart if I make any noise. Spoilers: those monsters aren't here because we'd all be pretty dead by now." Kamala rubs her eyes with one hand, reluctantly starting to sit up. "It's been a rough day. I thought I was done getting into these messes, you know? It really sucks."

[fwips]

It's funny: Most of what comes out of her mouth, Peter doesn't have any context for. He doesn't know who Bruno is or why he sounds like him, he knows nothing about the monsters she's talking about. The rest, though, and the sentiment beneath all of what she's said, is the most real thing he's heard since he's been here.

"Yeah," he says, because boy does he know. She's come right out and unloaded on him, so he figures it's okay to sit down next to her, cross-legged on the grass.

"I'm Peter. Sorry about your family."

[morphogenia]

She does welcome the company. It makes her think of Bruno and Will suddenly. She hopes they're okay wherever they are. "Kamala and thanks. Sorry for dumping all my problems on you. I kind of have a problem with that when it's safe to talk." She thinks back to that poor hotdog vendor she basically held hostage one day while eating half his inventory. She really does need to work on this in the future. "I swear I'm not usually such a mess." A beat. Yeah that's a lie. "Okay I am, but I'm not a sad mess. Important distinction."

[fwips]

Peter smiles with a duck of his head — Being a mess is something he understands, too, on both a large and small scale. Heck, tonight's a perfect example of how he somehow manages to do things the wrong way even when he's doing them for the right reasons — Why did he think standing up on a chair and telling everybody about Thanos was a good idea? They just wanted to eat their crabs and forget about the sucky stuff for awhile.

"It's okay," he promises, looking back to Kamala. "Everybody is a mess when they first get here, even if they don't admit it. At least you're honest about it. I tried to act like I actually knew what was going on." Still is, if he's honest about it, even if he's been knocked back a few pegs.

"Where are you from?"

[oorah]

Frank had borrowed a great many things from the Inn (and of course, Karen's dog again) and he's back before Kamala is up for the day. It isn't atypical, of course, but he wants to take a trip with her the way they used to. He's still extremely wary of speaking, and honestly, she's adjusting much better than he is. It's something he doesn't think she'd admit to herself, but he just might force her hand today. Even with the house being soundproofed to a respectable degree, it's automatic the way he makes as little noise as possible, the door clicking shut softly behind him even as Aretha's nails tap staccato on the hardwood.

Setting his supplies down in the front hall, Frank goes about making his way up the stairs. These borrowed boots are nothing like the combat boots the Natives had soundproofed for him and he frowns at the dull noise of them as they hit every step. He takes the right to her room and taps his usual Morse code into the door. R-I-S-E-A-N-D-S-H-I-N-E. Like a good dad, he'll barge in without waiting for her okay, but he has a cup of coffee he snuck out of the Inn for her so at least he didn't come emptyhanded.

[morphogenia]

Kamala tries to ignore him like any respectable daughter would. The noises register when he comes in, of course. She has had some practice in not reacting to them thanks to her family. She stays happily under the covers even after he taps away. She knows damn well what he said. He wouldn't- okay he totally would.

She pokes her head out of the covers to openly glare at him when he enters. This time she's really going to kill him. The angels will understand her wrath is justified. He's already a step ahead of her with a peace offering. She loves coffee in the morning which he knows too well. That earns an even darker glare before she sits up to take the coffee. He wins this round. Again. "I could have been indecent." Kamala mumbles before sipping her coffee. She's not signing to him when he's being mean to her. Besides, he's clearly made progress on soundproofing. It's okay to talk.

[oorah]

He rolls his eyes at her even as Aretha leaps into bed with her. Only when he's sure it won't spill with the dog rolling around does he hand Kamala the cup. "We're going out today, remember?" His voice is still scratchy from neglect, like he keeps forgetting to use it. Mostly because he does. Or even more often - actively refuses. This is his baseline now, his comfort level. It's not his fault no one else is on it. "You forgot, didn't you?"

Frank feigns upset, sitting backwards on the chair at her vanity. Though maybe it's not so fake. If she's changed her mind about their camping trip he won't take it well.

[morphogenia]

She doesn't absolutely zero to discourage the dog. Kamala rewards Aretha with ear scratches before ditching her for sweet, sweet coffee. She feels a tiny pang of guilt. She sort of did. She knew a trip was coming, but.... well. She'll explain. "I didn't forget. I guess my sense of time is still funny. I'm lucky to get five hours of sleep back home in between school and all that other stuff I do." She threw herself back into superheroing hard since coming home. No one should be surprised by that. It was burning her out even if she didn't admit it to herself.

Kamala takes a long sip of coffee. "I have my stuff together already. I just need to do my prayers and eat before we go." At least she isn't backing out if only because it doesn't even occur to her as an option. She's always been consistent about running off with Frank as long as he allowed her to follow. It certainly helped she doesn't actually have much to pack. She's starting over again. Lucky her.

[oorah]

"I've got a lot of free time too," he admits, looking down at the floor. Being Mayor Hotdog had taken its toll the same way Ms. Marvel had for her. He isn't sure how to cope with being just one among many. No special resources or insight. In fact, he's been completely displaced from everything comfortable to him, save her. He's so grateful to have her, and that makes him feel even worse than it did the first time.

Frank gets up suddenly with a scuffling scoot of the chair, trying to force himself to make noise. "I'll go start on breakfast while you do that." Pray. He'd always respected her religion, but that for him meant keeping his distance. Aretha takes a flying leap off the bed and skids into one meaty thigh, effectively impeded from any further forward momentum by the solid appendage. He reaches down to scratch her head idly though it's obvious his heart isn't in it. After another moment's hesitation, he turns to go back down the stairs and get their 19th century shit rolling.

When she comes down after a while, there will be a sprawling breakfast waiting for her of fried eggs and spicy potato hash with shredded groffle. They're about as delicious as they are adorable, Frank had discovered, and 100% halal.

Inn

[ad_dicendum]

Gaius passes close to the young woman only by chance, because he's come back into the Inn to collect a cloak from his room. But on seeing her there, looking alone and without any obvious guardian, parent or even sibling, he pauses when he notices her, reminded of the family members he'd left behind what seems so long ago.

"If you mean this place, it's real, though strange." His English is now fairly good, but it's still heavily accented with something that sounds a little like an Italian accent. "It can be difficult to tell whether or not to believe what your eyes are telling you." He's had visions before, in his dreams and in the street here, and he'd wondered the last time how to know what to believe and what had happened.

"Do you need help?" he adds, after a moment.

[morphogenia]

The accent makes her like him reflexively. Her parents have one and so does her big brother to an extent from spending his early years in Pakistan. She sits up to offer up a little respect to him giving her his time. Kamala appreciates him stopping at all. Adults don't always care. Reims had taught her that bitter lesson as she came to realize only one could ever truly be counted on.

Kamala isn't the type to be bitter though so she doesn't bring it up. She quietly absorbs the advice and lets out a soft chuckle at his question. She probably does. For what exactly she can't be sure of. "Uh... no? I think? The truth is I don't really know what I've gotten myself into. Is there something I should know? Like absolutely everyone here does except the new person?"

[ad_dicendum]

It had always been one of the things that drew people to him, when he was a politician in Rome, that Gaius had made a point to pay attention to people, to their needs, and to their suffering.

So he smiles. She's young, barely a woman in Roman terms, probably still a girl by the standards of most of the people here, and she's here, in a place that is frightening and disorienting even to people far older than she is.

"I think what most people know here is that there are many things we do not know. All of the people here have come here from somewhere else, and none of us know how or why. There are no laws or rules here, just some people doing what they can to survive."

He pauses again, aware that the unstructured and unknown community here could seem daunting to someone young and obviously worried.

"You can always get lunch at the Inn, often another meal too. There is a sort of community here, and people do not like to see anyone go without." It's equally true of Gaius as the manager of the stores as it is of Kate Kelly the innkeeper.

[morphogenia]

That was absolutely the right call. Kamala was steadily losing color as she thought about the fact this place is lawless. The last place she was too. In fact, she was the expected to keep the peace along with a small group of people. That really says everything about the experience there. Gaius provides a welcome distraction as she contemplates how much she never wants to do that again.

Kamala exhales loudly in relief. "Okay good. You were scaring me for a second there! I thought I was going to have to avoid literally everyone because we were stuck in another Purge scenario." Yeah there's no way this guy will get the reference. "It's a story where all crime is legal for a day. People use it to terrorize each other and destroy everything."

Now back on topic: "So if I want to be a part of the community, I should go to the Inn for lunch?" As if the hunter green scrubs aren't enough of a hint she wants to be with people.