[OTA] Is there life on Mars?

[reprobate]

WHO: Sirius Black
WHERE: Fountain & Bridge outside of town
WHEN: 26 June, 28 June
OPEN TO: ALL - Please mind the notes for the prompts
WARNINGS: Standard Padfoot warnings

---

It's a God-awful small affair;

Open to ONE thread, fcfs

Sleeping was always a bit of a risky prospect within the hallowed walls of Azkaban prison. If you were the steady sort and could dutifully ignore the constant wailing, it was one of the few activities a prisoner could manage with any consistency. The trouble was, the ratio of steady to unsteady wasn't exactly through the roof to start, and it was nearly guaranteed that whatever marbles you brought in were well lost within weeks.

And a bad dream, the sort that everyone in the place eventually fell into, night sweats and jolting awake to a heart hammering in your ears? Like honey to the Dementors. Good luck staying sane then.

As a matter of fact, Sirius reckoned he was the sanest person in the joint, which didn't say much for the general level of mental health in the British wizarding prison system. And it was only being a dog most of the time that allowed him that dubious distinction — With a few notable exceptions, he'd spent most of his life as the dodgiest person in the room.

The days ran together, but he got his hands on a newspaper every now and then, and was clear enough on the date. Nearly five years he'd been locked in this cage, fueled by a deep-seated anger, his savior the very thing that had allowed his nemesis to escape (relatively) unscathed. The wailing didn't bother him anymore, nor the fleas. He gladly ate what slop he was given, and kept a sliver of his strength up by tenacity alone. He stayed a mangey black dog more often than not, and his sleep was blissfully simple.

The shift now he felt before waking, the heaviness of human thought sliding into the watery place between sleep and awareness—

Wait, no. That was actual water.

Sputtering, he surfaced with a spate of violent coughing, his arms skinny and wobbling as they pulled him over the lip of the fountain and to the worn stones surrounding it. On hands and knees, he hacked up the rest of his dinner, indifferent to the mess as he blinked into the startling brightness of a clear summer day.

So much for being the sanest person in the place.

To the seat with the clearest view;

OTA

As unlikely as it had seemed even then, at first Sirius had thought he'd been victim of an apparating accident. Granted, he'd not been trying to disapparate, and certainly wouldn't have been aiming for someplace so far from England, but it wasn't unheard of.

Well, unheard of from inside bloody Azkaban, but not generally.

But apparently that wasn't it at all, it was something that was odd enough and inexplicable enough that two full days later, he was still not entirely certain he hadn't simply, finally had the mental break loads of people had been predicting for years. Not that he was complaining, really; if this was what a mental break was like, he reckoned he ought to have had one years back — Free food that tasted better than he remembered anything ever tasting, free lodging with an actual bed with an actual mattress, loads of sunshine, a giant box full of cigarettes with his name on it, along with the freedom to go wherever he liked... If Peter had been here to strangle when he'd first arrived, it would've been practically paradise.

Presently, he was seated on the edge of the wooden bridge that crossed the river just outside of town, his long legs straddling one of the supports for the railing, idly swinging heavy black boots over the water while he smoked a cigarette and just took it all in. It was loud and quiet here all at the same time, all the sweet, everyday noises he didn't realize he'd forgotten replacing the cacophony he left back in prison.

Comments

Fountain

[3ofswords]

Well, add a cleanup kit to the fountain watch: from what he hears, people are coming in more often, and having a worse time of it of late. Half of them won't talk for days, Noctis could barely string a sentence together. At least the weather is cooperating--no water dried up or late snows, sudden hail to pelt the new transplants as they roll around and throw up.

Living as close as he does, with his chores varying by day and number of fucks, it's an easy shift to sit in the park with a spare towel and a bowl of peaches. Kira swats Hoshi from his shoulder to the back of the bench, handing him a peach pit to keep him occupied.

In a really fucked up way, watching the guy flop out and barf, the fountain is kind of how they're born. Thinking of everyone as a big shitty infant certainly lowers his expectations for first words and hand eye coordination, and makes him appreciate that nobody comes through naked.

Especially Skeletor here. For once, Kira actually is one to talk.

Crouching down outside of arm's reach, he leads with the towel, dangled into view. "The whole what is your name, who is the president bit hasn't been going well of late," he says, not expecting any real reply. "But I've got peaches and optional medical care, if you want either."

[reprobate]

"The wha— The pre-president," Sirius echoed in a voice painfully rough from disuse, the word then tumbling into a wheezing peal of laughter that sent him toppling over, splayed out on his back across the stones, matted hair missing the sick by a centimeter or less. It hurt a bit, the laughing, but it was equally as brilliant, the fucked absurdity of it all, his body bunching in on itself as he coughed out the sound.

Without warning, he was on wobbly feet, immediately in the stranger's face and the laughter ended as he stared down at him with wide, sunken eyes. "Do you have a mirror—" he began, and then snapped his attention to the raven pecking listlessly at a seed lodged between the slats of a nearby bench. Sirius lunged that way, turning only when he was at the bench, the bird cawing at him with a warning slap of its wings.

"Is this your bird?" he demanded, eyes fully wild now. "Can it carry a message?"

Except... who would he write? Remu— no. Dumbledore? Maybe.

[3ofswords]

Oh good, he was fucking crazy. "Oh good, you're fucking crazy," Kira said, all the self preservation of a bird seeing his twin in a window. "He probably could, he just can't traverse the material components of String Theory to deliver it anywhere useful."

And all of your friends were long dead and fake, by certain measures, so: have a peach.

Kira shoved himself up to follow, clicking his tongue more to remind Hoshi of his existence than to give any command. The crow leapt away from its nuisance and returned to being one on his shoulder, picking up a lock of hair--something Kira assumed he found soothing.

"We have mirrors, bathrooms--towels," he added, prepared to fling his and head somewhere with witnesses if this went south. "Do you want to sit down, or do you want to swan over to the inn with all the grace of a reanimated rotisserie chicken?"

[reprobate]

A rotisserie chicken sounded bloody glorious, and achieving one by hook or crook instantly jumped onto Sirius' to-do list. There were, however, matters a great deal more pressing.

"Where are we?" he demanded, stepping closer to the bloke again, only to have the bird take a swipe from his perch with a click of its beak. Sirius snapped his teeth instantly back, and then swiveled his attention to the owner.

"Who are 'we'? I need an owl." At present, he had no money to pay for one, didn't even have the parchment or ink to write note it would carry, but that could be sorted later. "Where can I hire an owl?"

[3ofswords]

"Up in my personal space," he answered, dumping the towel onto dripping hair and, in the motion to drop his hand, pressing the guy back by his sternum. Which he could feel entirely too much of under those scrubs.

The question, and the realization that it might not be a trite crazy person reference to Alice or her cousin the Jabberwocky--infinite dumb universes meant one might involve this obsession with birds--didn't improve his opinion. Wherever the man was from, he was still off, but so were half the people he took the subway home with at four in the morning.

Or the old him had, or--whatever. Crazy is a little relative, these days. "We don't have any, and you're a lot further from where you want them to fly your...messages, or whatever. Sit down, eat something, I'll tell you what I can."

[dann_0]

Danny is about to cross the bridge when he spots the guy and he decides to stop for a chat. The detective doesn't have anywhere useful to be right this minute and from what he can tell this is someone new. He could make sure to get their name for the census.

He knocks on the wood of the bridge to alert the other to his presence as he leans against the railing an arm's length away. His own scrubs have a few marks on them, signs of daily wear and his hair is a bit of a mess from the lack of hair products. But overall he looks good, having gained a bit of strength and a tan being out working a lot.

"Peaceful isn't it?"

[reprobate]

The knock seemed far away, and it took a moment for Sirius to pull his attention from the burbling water to the man standing above him, as cheerful as the yellow sunshine. A far cry from himself, sunken cheeks and a fine tremble in his fingers where they held his cigarette. At least he was clean, which was more than he could say three days ago.

"It is," Sirius allowed with a nod, his voice still sandpaper rough. "It's been awhile since I've seen anything like it."

[dann_0]

Danny takes it all in. Being a cop he has seen his fair share of people who look like they've been on the rougher side of life and he softens slightly. He doesn't have any indication that this guy is a danger after all.

"Yeah, I've lived in cities all my life and sometimes it still surprises me how quiet it is out here. I am Danny, by the way"

[reprobate]

"Sirius," he offered in return, and motioned to the spot beside him on the bridge. "You're welcome to join me, if the smoke won't bother you." Because he most assuredly wasn't going to be putting the cigarette out until he was good and ready, not after five years without.

"It's loud in a different way, I think," he added, sliding a look back to the river streaming out beneath them. "The water and wind, the birds." Someone was hammering in the distance, too, the noise rolling out over the rooftops and fading against the trees. The detail was so mundane, so fucking ordinary, it was nearly overwhelming all on its own.

[dann_0]

"Nice to meet you." Danny smiles and settles down next to him. The smoke doesn't bother him that much."Don't me started on the birds. There is some right next to my bedroom window that likes to start screaming at the crack of dawn. It is impossible to sleep in." Danny's default mode is ranting about something.

[oorah]

The acrid smell of smoke impedes his forward momentum, two large dogs hot on the heels of one of those strong, silent types. The scent reminds him distinctly of Chloe, hardly anyone else in Reims had cigarettes and she had to hoard the few she did come by as it was. There are even much fewer people here in comparison, too, so he would've noticed a smoker among them before. The one dog, a slim black German Shepherd, keeps running along ahead when Frank stops, his soft step tapping out an echo onto the wood bridge's surface. He holds his breath when it's louder than he bargained for, but turns to face the stranger anyway. The black-and-tan bloodhound remains obediently at his heel, panting curiously as she flashes a look to Frank to see if it's okay to approach. Aurora has no such qualms, looping back around and colliding her pointy nose with the guy's leg, sniffing aggressively. YOU SMELL NEW. I'm A DOG!!

There's a weary, but bemused look on Frank's face as he slides his hands into jean pockets. Training her is going much slower than Aretha for obvious reasons. Most of which are that he returns her to Kira and it undoes all his progress from the day before. Still, there's no apology to be found in his gaze. Aurora is a sweetheart even if she's a little excitable. Anyone who doesn't like her is someone to keep his eye on anyway.

[reprobate]

The reaction was instantaneous, really — Things were just simpler with dogs, whether you were with one or were one. Sirius, being a bit of both at the moment, reached immediately to ruffle the fur of his new companion, to lean in and whisper gruffly against a velvety ear, to nose at the long, lean snout. In no time at all, they were tangled on the wooden slats of the bridge, rolling playfully into each other, the still lit cigarette being held dutifully aloft the only indication Sirius didn't believe himself as fully canine as his wrestling partner.

[oorah]

Frank rolls his eyes good-naturally when they two tumble and wrestle across the bridge. He doesn't discourage the rough-housing, merely trying to steer them not into the water. That would be a bad day for everyone, he thinks, even if it might be funny at first. Aretha looks at him and Frank nods, and the bloodhound bursts forward to get involved by lapping sloppy kisses all over Sirius' face while he's downed. The Mayor finds himself biting the inside of his lip against a bigger grin. Maybe he's finally met his match in dog person af mode. He's impressed with it, in any case.

[reprobate]

As could be expected, the cigarette was lost to the fray. Sirius turned his head just in time to see the pale blur of it bounce off one of the wooden slats with an anry puff of sparks, and then slip through the adjacent gap and down to the surging water below. He had plenty more, so the loss hardly mattered, but even if he hadn't, he might not have cared. This was as normal as he'd felt in over five years.

Outnumbered, he eventually gave up, splayed back across the boards with his hair a wild halo, legs still hooked at the knee over the edge of the bridge. The dogs settled a bit, too, feverish kisses giving way to gentle nudges to be petted as Sirius slid his gaze to the figure standing nearby.

"Evening," he said, as if this all were perfectly normal.

[pharmakis]

Her crocdog was always at her side whenever she left the house, preferring to keep her company than roam freely as the other animals in her care did. While he might not afford much protection, it was comforting to have him nearby, more so when she ventured out of the village alone. There was little reason to be wary of the others living here, but that natural suspicion was difficult to remove, not after hundreds of years alone.

The man seated on the side of the bridge was unfamiliar to her, dark and carrying an air of foreboding. She understood danger enough to sense something in him, whether it was a threat or not, it was difficult to tell. Instinctively, she reached for her pouch, wanting to feel her potions close at hand, but there was nothing. Her magic was limited now.

"You are new?" She asked, her crocdog charging ahead of her to greet him.

[reprobate]

Sirius had become acquainted with the notion of the toothy little crocodile dogs within perhaps his first few hours post-fountain. They seemed to have the run of the place, and not surprisingly so: What they lacked in beauty they more than made up for in sweetness and tenacity, and a good deal of them had secured a human companion. Sirius couldn't fault them; he knew those tricks, too.

This one he greeted in kind, reaching to pet over the skinny, leathery body and scratch obediently under a long snout with his free hand. "Hello, gorgeous," he cooed to it, reckoning that among its own kind, it likely was.

The voice of its owner pulled his attention upward, and he stared a long, heartbreaking moment at the soft sway of red hair in the breeze.

Clearing his throat, he dragged his gaze back to her dog, took a deep pull from his cigarette and then sighed it out, the smoke twisting away into the wind.

"I am new," he finally confirmed, his voice still gravelly from disuse, and squinted up at her again.

[pharmakis]

He seemed to take more easily to the crocdog than the others in the village. Most viewed them as a nuisance or as a hideous addition to the village. She had seen worse and the creature's friendliness compensated for its appearance. It had a better heart than any of the glorious animals the gods had made.

The cigarette fascinated her. It burned like incense, but the smell was disgusting. He breathed it in and blew out a puff of smoke, as if he were about expel a stream of fire as well. She watched him curiously, choosing not to come any closer and smell more of that stick.

"As am I. You are a bit more at ease than others who arrive here." Save for her. This was her freedom as well.

[reprobate]

"The others," Sirius echoed, and peeked back up at her again. "Implying you're not included in that lot." She certainly seem plenty calm to him.

On second glance, she looked less like Lily than he'd first thought, although there was no getting around the red hair. It had been Lily's crowning glory, that hair, and impossible to miss. For this woman, it must be much the same. You don't overlook hair like that.

[littledhampir]

For reasons Rose wasn’t likely to get into voluntarily with pretty well anyone, she had found herself avoiding the river that separated the two settlements. Just the sound of gurgling water would set her teeth on edge, bringing unwanted memories to the forefront of her mind for the brunette to relive and dissect until she drove herself mad.

While she’d proven herself to be remarkable at avoidance when it suited her, she was equally unremarkable at being able to bear confinement, even one as self-imposed as steering clear of the river might have been. She could only walk the edge of the forest so many times before the monotony of it pushed her further out, the voice inside her head that taunted her for own weakness, enough to send her towards the other settlement today.

The stranger on the bridge could have been doing nothing but staring and Rose would have found something to be irritated by, the Dhampir needing her unease to be about anything other than the fragments of memory that insisted on trying to push themselves to the surface.

“And to think, the one thing this place had going for it was the clean, fresh air.” Her tone dry, nose wrinkled as she stupidly stood downwind of Sirius and his cigarette.

[reprobate]

Pausing, cigarette held aloft by one insouciant hand, Sirius smirked, his brow creasing, and then slid a look to his new critic. She was fit and clearly spoiling for a fight, but he was rather a dab hand at being judged and merely canted his head.

"And to think, feet can be used for walking," he blithely replied, and gaze still fixed upon her, lifted the smoke to his lips for a long, slow drag.

[littledhampir]

The scent of smoke, curled in her direction, teasing her nose and leaving her, dare she say it, disappointed. It lacked the sweet, heady scent of cloves she'd come to associate with a certain Royal and while she'd never freely admit to missing Adrian Ivashkov, there was a sense of nostalgia that stirred inside of her at finding what she had to assume was one of the only people in this place who happened to have cigarettes.

"Thankfully we have an abundance of bridges, right?" Eyebrows arching infinitesimally as she met his gaze head-on, keeping her focus on him rather than the water that rushed beneath their feet.

[reprobate]

"Could always take a boat," Sirius suggested with an easy motion toward the nearby boatshed with the hand still holding the cigarette. Whether there were actually any boats in it, he hadn't the foggiest idea. "Or swim."

Leaning back on the palm of his free hand, he canted his head as he peered steadily her way. "Alternately, you could just stop and stand right there and breathe deeply so you have a reason to chat me up."

[enterprisingheart]

Even Picard can't deny that the village is certainly unusual. No more so than some of the other strange things that have happened to him over the course of his time as captain of the Enterprise, but he's well aware of the fact that most people don't have quite his tendency to run into the odd and unexplained. Or extradimensional beings that like to drop by apparently for no other reason than being bored.

Not, of course, that he's aware of the line of thinking Sirius' thoughts are following. All he's aware of is the fact that there's someone he doesn't remember having seen before sitting on the edge of the bridge, and that's enough to have him make his way on over at the very least.

"Taking in the view?"

[reprobate]

Being spoken to at all was nearly as much a novelty as speaking himself, and when Sirius slid his gaze away from the burbling water and up to the lean man who'd approached, it took a long moment for him to answer, his expression placid if a bit amazed.

"It's a nice one," he allowed at length with a little dip of his head, attention tugged perpetually back to the view. It was a sight better than anything he'd seen in the last five years.

[enterprisingheart]

"It is," Picard agrees with a nod. True, there's the fact that no one has quite figured out how to get back home, but that doesn't change the fact that there are certainly some decent views. Most everything else is often irritating, but there are worse places to be trapped all the same.

"That said, I do rather find myself missing home, sometimes."